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[Papyrus pauses mid-scrub, slowly starts to scrub again, and stops. Turns to look at his brother, and for longer than just a glance.] Back... to the void...? [Repeating the words himself confirms that, yes, that sounds familiar.] You mean... That stuff, when I was rusting...?

Yeah. [Sans sits up, though he can't bring himself to turn properly toward Papyrus. Of course, that doesn't stop Sans from watching him.] Last night I believed that again. For a little while. [He snapped out of it, but it still happened.]

What the heck? But that was months and months ago. [Maybe not that many months, but it was back before the whole house situation, so it feels long ago. Still, Papyrus's tone is more rhetorical confusion than an actual question for Sans. He drops the half-scrubbed piece in the sink and turns to lean against it.] Has that... happened before? Weird thoughts... coming back?

[It's a concerning question even as he asks. He's found himself wondering about some of the weird things he's believed, wondering if there were bits of truth to them, but he hasn't reacted so obviously poorly - he thinks.]

[Now Sans glances at Papyrus with his usual eyes.] Last month. But I thought I was just stressed out. [He was stressed out, of course. But maybe he should have mentioned the specifics of that particular feeling to Papyrus. Oops.]

...Last month... [He's not certain when Sans means, and isn't sure he wants to ask, so he lets the echo trail off there. Instead, he shakes his head.] I should tell you, I have not found myself thinking that stuff again... The void god stuff. Not even when you brought us back in...

Well, one of us shouldn't be. [But at least he's not infecting Papyrus with it by touching him anymore. Of course, he didn't touch Papyrus until after he'd snapped back out of it.] When I'm-- [--more broken than usual. --going extra crazy. --spacing out.]--like that, I still think you're one too. [He still wants to take Papyrus along with him, whatever that means. Looking at it from the outside, it's harder to figure out his own motives.]

Still...? Guess I'm glad your weird thoughts aren't leaving me out. [Somewhat conflicted gladness, if he's being entirely honest. But at least that's... including him. And not in a way that's likely to knock him off the roof, or any other bizarre and unlikely thing with no reason to be imagining anything of the sort. He shakes his head again, ] Not, uh... Not so glad, void god thoughts have anything against smoothies. It didn't make me even a little sick. [So it clearly wasn't anything about worrying for Papyrus's well-being.]

It was the noise. [Which he says mostly because he remembers saying it. It had been the noise, for some reason, and it was different from Papyrus talking, because...?] Not a lot of smoothies in the void. [Which is half a joke, but he's pretty sure that was kind of the reason.] Or--things. In general. There's you, and there's me, and... [Sans is starting to sound... A little distant...] And light. Like when you close your eyes. You don't see darkness, your mind makes some light. [Eigengrau.] It's supposed to be like that.

...Supposed to be, huh. [It's already happening again, and the morning's barely started. Papyrus grimaces again, but not as nervously as in talk of power grids or smoothie destruction. He's still leaning against the sink, after all, several feet away from where Sans is apparently drifting into space directly from the kitchen table. It's enough distance to feel less apprehensive, and venture some questions - for the sake of asking, or jostling Sans back to sense, alike.] Do you suppose... I could make this light, shape into a smoothie, and drink it? Or some other drink. It doesn't have to be a smoothie.

[That's a really weird question, and it makes Sans hesitate.] Why would you want to-- [Right. Because Papyrus needs to drink things sometimes to live. Because Papyrus is a monster, not a void god. Because Sans also isn't a void god. Carefully, like he has to walk across a pane of glass, he lowers his head back down onto the table, burying his face in the pillow of his arms. Even his halo of eyes are closed for the moment. He didn't break anything. He didn't do anything at all, he just said some weird stuff. Okay.]

Okay. Trying to think about how I think when I'm like that's a bad idea.

That was the fastest 'change your thinking to change your self' I've ever seen. [It's at least half awed compliment, for all that the situation is not one that either of them wants or needs. He shakes his head a third time, relieved how quickly Sans got sensible - sensible enough to close all the extra eyes, even. If his smoothie-related ramble helped, then...]

Just sit there and think... about milkshakes? And going to Grillby's. [A bunch of very physical, socially-oriented memories. Underground. Gross. About as far from the void of space and its intangible light-worship as it gets. Finally, all those trips in there can be good for something.]

[Thinking about Grillby's is like--heh, like touching a fire. Grillby'd have liked that one.] Y'know, it's been a while since I've had a milkshake. [Lately, there's just been a continuously growing pile of reasons he can't even joke about trying to steal any of Papyrus's drinks, but this would probably be a good place for one of those jokes, too, if he was going to do it. Instead, carefully, he opens all his eyes again. When his thoughts remain grounded, he finishes the last of his pizza.] Maybe I'll grab one when I'm on break later.

What, you haven't had any?? Sans! [His usual concerned aggravation comes like it was never gone. As carefully as he's been trying to tread this conversation, Papyrus metaphorically lunges for a safe topic to lecture on.] You have even more bones than you used to, you need the calcium! Cheese alone surely won't do it.

Is there calcium in soda? [Sans knows there's not. This is just so much easier to talk about.]

Oh my god, you're not fooling me. [Not that Sans is sincerely asking the question, not that they're not both avoiding the other topic. He huffs and turns back to the sink, grabbing that half-scrubbed metal part to finish cleaning it like he wishes he could clean weird thoughts out of heads.] If you get sick, from some calcium deficiency, don't expect me to sit around wiping your brow or whatever treatment it needs!

Well. It'd probably be calcium. [If it's a calcium deficiency, that would be the treatment. Sans's grin quirks up just a little bit.]

I'll probably buy you a box of chalk. [Famous calcium-enriched supplement, that.] After that you're on your own!! [It is a relief to be bantering about stupid bullshit like this.]

The box with the different colors? [Why would Sans hope for that.]

I... guess so? [This uncertainty warrants a glance back at Sans, the better to wonder just why he would ask that.] Sans, are you tasting colors or something? [Because this is either a wings and void weirdness thing, or Sans is plotting to draw somewhere he shouldn't be drawing, Papyrus can already tell.]

Nah. [That would be cool, though.] The humans just always talk about eating colorful food. [That would be eating vegetables in multiple colors. Not chalk.]

I guess so...? That does sound like a culinary advice... [Not that he's making any particular point of bringing up the things he's learned more recently, in light of other food troubles. Has Sans been doing some research on his own...? Incredible if true.]

But, you could just pour colorful stuff on them. Food dyes. Condiments. Paint your own colorful food. [And then it might make some kind of chalk slurry, great for putting in a cup and drinking, as long as one doesn't mind the gritty texture or impulse to cough. The conversation has made another circuit back to smoothies.]

Who knows how humans work. [Sans says, like he could not just look up that information if he really cared. No, it's clearly a mystery that will never be solved. Sans is clearly feeling more relaxed, meanwhile; he's still got his blanket cape, but it's not held up so high as his wings settle out of their tense huddle.] The guys at the dig site were tellin' me about the color thing when they saw how much candy I brought the other day. [Look, other people also care about Sans's terrible, terrible food decisions.]

Edited 2021-11-18 20:34 (UTC)

They were giving you advice on more candy you should get..?? [Baffling and aggravating if true, but at least it's more of the mundane and casual nonsense to banter about.]

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that was a good and necessary pun

😎

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