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[Too bad nobody ever taught the spiders to make websites. Or maybe not, who knows what Muffet would have done with that sort of reach. Well, she's dead too now. (It hurts, but not as much as it did. He didn't know Muffet well.)]

'S always a good day for donuts. Dunno what it's waiting for if it's that.

I don't know, do astronomy things make a difference in baking...? [Some of his idle late-night multitasking readings have lead to learning that yeasts in different parts of the world apparently have noticeable differences, to the point that connoisseurs can identify them. Elevation makes a difference, humidity makes a difference, the moon exerts enough gravitational force to apparently make the oceans move... Maybe all those sayings about stars being in alignment mean something more than poetry.]

[Sans considers this.] There's solar cookers. Or, I dunno, maybe an ionizing particle hits some computer chip in your oven and messes stuff up. [That is extremely unlikely, though.]

In my... oven. [The robot helmet is off in the workshop for tinkering in the off-chance Papyrus needs a (not-so) secret identity, so Papyrus's expression isn't particularly robotical. Just a brief staring off, as he puts a few seconds into refreshing his knowledge on ionizing particles.]

...Wow! Looks like ionizing particles... get worse the higher up you get? Good thing we're down in a canyon... Would hate to bake on top of a mountain. [How high the canyon actually puts them, is a question he almost asks. But why voice the worrying thought, when he can scrounge up on his own? There's fun info like latitude, longitude, and elevation in one of the pages about the city, and... hmm. That's at least a couple factors of likelihood. He's suddenly aware of his various computer chips like someone just tapped a tuning fork at them all.]

Well, it depends on the oven. Not all of 'em have computer chips. And you'd have to get really unlucky. [The odds of it actually messing up what you're cooking are extremely low.] Solar cookers are a better way to cook with space.

Oh, yeah? [This is part open invitation for Sans to talk about Something Space, part distracted attempt to give himself a conversational space in which to continue his study.

Yes, various cosmic rays sometimes flip bits, which might just be part of why he's hearing them. Gamma rays are especially penetrating and good at causing problems, which is why they're a comic book staple - and, even more exciting, they're also caused by things like lightning. But the occasional error is almost always minor, not causing catastrophic crashes...]

Well, yeah. It's like when you crack an egg on the sidewalk to cook it, but you don't use a sidewalk. [Sans absolutely tried the crack an egg on the sidewalk thing when they arrived in summer, incidentally. A few times in different places.] Might get one for the hot dog cart. Bet it'd bring in a crowd. [Just Sans cooking hot dogs with a solar funnel cooker and blinding anyone who happens to stand at the wrong angle.]

[...So there's ways to compensate for the radiation errors, redundant processing for error correcting memory, but that slows processing a couple percent. Between the drop in processing and the expense of the higher quality parts involved, major financial and scientific computers (above ground) are the main ones that use that, since most people don't need them... Well, given the difficulties he had when Sans was doing time weirdness suggests he should look into getting some...]

But you don't... [Papyrus doesn't outright stop his search, continuing to slowly multitask it with part of his processing, but the bulk of his attention focuses on squinting at his brother.] What do you use, instead of a sidewalk? [He's visualizing Sans just holding the egg in the air with an invisible hand, and he's pretty sure the shells aren't the only things keeping eggs from spontaneously cooking. Is this the next prank, convincing him of some fake egg trivia?]

You can glue some aluminum foil to a cardboard funnel. [There are definitely fancier solar cookers, but this method is cheap and can be made with things already found in their house, so of course that's what Sans would use.] The point is concentrating sunlight to heat up whatever you want to cook.

[...It doesn't seem likely that a bit switch could cause his memory to go haywire with recording everything - it had taken more intent than just idly thinking about it, which implies several bytes at least are involved. But he has been activating it in short bursts, hasn't he? His emotional processing is down to about 83% of what it had been directly after Sans helped him with a reset, even adjusting for the immediate euphoria and horror and heartbreak. No, the metric as of a week later and the measurements he'd taken then, 83% compared to that... And it's only been five months. How low had he gotten before Sans noticed, and called him out about it? ECC might provide a little protection against bits getting stuck holding memory emotions too, definitely worth trying...]

...And the foil doesn't cook the cardboard? [Cardboard is flammable, even human cardboard. Dabbling in arson teaches things like this.]

Well, the funnel just collects the sunlight. You do the cooking in a jar with one of those oven bags you put turkeys in. [Sans learned about those around human Thanksgiving! It was one of the very few good things about last human Thanksgiving.

But, well, Papyrus has seemed increasingly distracted. So.]

You thinking up new pranks for today already? [Sans doesn't think that's actually what Papyrus is thinking about. Really, he hopes Papyrus doesn't do too many today, because Sans isn't sure he feels up to any more than the one.]

Uhh. Yeah, maybe! [He did put through the purchase for someone to head out to the ruins with a pony with snacks, after all. That's pranks enough.

But he hadn't expected the question, or prepared a cover story for all the non-conversational processing, and now that Sans has caught on... Maybe a little truth, as an apology for the rudeness.] And, a little side research, on particles. And how to protect computers from them. Would hate for anything to happen to my backup drives! I might move them into the basement...

[Down into the hole he's been occasionally digging down in the basement, rather. It had just been for eventual longer term workshop option, once he finalizes getting his license and car worked out... But having an underground room, with a few dozen feet of dirt between it and the sky, can only be good for more sensitive electronics. Like him, sometimes.]

Can't go wrong building in some redundancy. [Okay, that's an extreme simplification, but it's Sans. He's eating a bowl of cereal with fruit gummies poured in it. Actually, he's nearly done with the bowl. The milk has become so many colors.] Back home you'd use magic to nudge some stuff around. Won't work here, but you might be able to work out something analogous. You've got computer powers, yeah?

[And, lest Sans be accused of having a master's degree in quantum physics or something, Sans proceeds to drink the remaining milk from the bowl sloppily enough that he spills some.]

Edited 2022-04-10 06:29 (UTC)

[It's like the kitchen is becoming an abstract art installation, first the blue, now this milky rainbow spreading across table, floor, and clothing... His voice goes even drier.]

Yeah, amazingly enough. Being mostly computer, comes with computer powers. [Computer powers like the ability to take a picture of this scene, slap a caption of WHY over it, and send the resulting image to Sans's phone without moving.]

[Sans has recovered enough to use his phone with his invisible hands. Which is good, because otherwise he might have had to wait a few more seconds before seeing that image. The image is also what he decides to respond to first.]

I figured I'd go for a whole look. [Sans wipes his mouth with his sleeve. It's a good thing for everyone he's going to take a shower before work.] Back home I'd just put the redundant chips over top of each other. Dunno if anyone here can do that. [You know. Superposition them. Like how he kept his books. Normal methods of storing things when you want to save space.]

[Papyrus snorts at the 'whole look', because it sure is. He's not arguing that. He's mostly arguing the choice of what look to go for.]

Well, I can go for that cool muscled look. It's mostly aesthetic... so, there's room for extra chips in there. [Wait, he wasn't planning on admitting that part of this is getting redundancy for himself... Oh well.] Because, I sure haven't figured out how to! It'd make for a much cleaner workshop, if I did... [Efficient, too. Imagine having all his tools in reach, in a single toolbox.]

[If they were at home, Sans could help Papyrus out. A couple weeks ago, Sans could have helped out, too. But that--that would probably have been unstable.]

If I get my regular magic back I'll let you know, but I guess until then you should just stick muscles on all your stuff for more chip space. [But actually, given what Papyrus said, Sans figures he's really worried about bit errors happening to his own body.]

A muscled tower...? [The idea of the computer he uses for running the helicopter just having a muscular arm sticking out the side sure is an image, but not one that brings delight. The point of the muscles is partly that advertisements are full of them as a physical standard of admirable beauty, random devices like stoves don't need it.

He shakes his head slowly, bemused by it all, but more than ready to use the ridiculousness as an excuse to shove away admissions of worries.] Aesthetically better than spilled milk, but! Consider instead! Cool spikes, of a size to fit some chips in.

[Sans tries to imagine a computer with a bunch of spikes on the casing. It's very Papyrus.] Maybe you can make a little spike puzzle on top.

Spike puzzle to unencrypt the contents, huh...? [That's not a terrible idea, at least for making it more challenging for people to get into. If only because so many - monsters and humans and ex-humans alike - don't seem to bother with them. And it'd be another little slice of home, which would be fitting for the back-up drives of memories...]

Nobody around here'd expect it. Humans don't seem that into puzzles. [Word puzzles and number puzzles, sure, but not traps in the middle of the road puzzles.]

I guess it's just not the same, when you live above the scary caves... [He mutters it, as much as Papyrus mutters anything, with a grimace to the side. Monster puzzles are half entertainment and mental enrichment, or supposed to be, but half old-fashioned defense mechanisms. More and more for slowing and annoying potential enemies than killing them, but...] Anyway, that's a great idea!! I'll gladly put it to good use.

[A good idea this time. Score one for Sans.] Bet it'll look cool. You were looking into nanotech before, yeah? [Even if Sans was a bit suspicious as to why Papyrus was looking them up at the time, given how Papyrus had been acting.] Smaller chips are good, but don't start too small, yeah? Then you're gonna have to deal with quantum tunneling.

[Also heat and working out how to build chips that small if Papyrus is going to do custom work and a bunch of other problems, but jumping into dealing with significant amounts of tunneling to avoid cosmic rays seems counterproductive.

Also, sorry not sorry, Sans knew about at least the theory behind nanotech this whole time and instead chose to talk about bananomachines on the network.]

[At first, he nods along to the idea, taking a couple of mental notes on avenues to pursue. Even beyond the whole instigating transformations thing, it'd be good to know how nanotech works, it seems versatile and people like Robotnik are still working on it. Then it sinks in that Sans sounds entirely too knowledgeable about this, meaning either he's done research in the last week (which his phone's made clear he hasn't!) or he was holding back. And a look at Sans's perma-grin gives that sorry not sorry vibe. Papyrus scowls.]

...The next time you're being weird, I'm filling your room with bananos.

[Does that mean nanomachines? Does that mean bananas? He's not clarifying, just letting the ambiguous threat hang in the air between them. If there's anything their delayed death / continued life / whatever this is has taught him, there will be an opportunity to make good on it.]

[That particular pun being brought back up, combined with the way Papyrus is looking at him, startles Sans into real laughter. It's the first time since the Okpaza incident. It's nice to know that's still a thing that can happen.]

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Papyrus: distract from symbols with reminder of space

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in this thread: Papyrus fretting about computer things for minutes on end while holding up a convo

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I can't believe I have the perfect icon for this

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