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[Sans doesn't move much at all. He does get up once, when the food is delivered, teleporting down to the baffled delivery guy. He also throws away enough food in the fridge to make a relatively mess-free zone where the takeout can go until Papyrus arrives. He eats half of a bread stick. He goes back to the couch and, mercifully, passes out for an entire hour until one of his many eyes spots Papyrus on the lawn through a window, just standing there. There's no way he wants a lift up, right? Not when Sans would have to touch him.

Sans watches his phone. If Papyrus wants something, he'll text, right? He keeps an eye on Papyrus at the same time, though.]

[This isn't the blank stare of Papyrus texting with his thoughts - or if it is, he doesn't actually send any texts Sans's way. Instead, he eventually exist the car without word, and goes around the back to unhook the various securing straps there.

Once the wooden crate is free, he lifts it and hauls it up the sidewalk to where the stairs to the front door previously rested. He pries his fingers into the wood, and tugs the lid off with his hands, revealing a modular white staircase within - chosen because the central support and extending stairs resemble a spine. A moment glancing at the instructions, digging out the various packaged nuts and bolts, and he starts setting up.]

[Sans can't quite make out the back of Papyrus's car from this angle, but after a second he can see Papyrus returning with a crate. Looks like he's going to get started on building after all. Papyrus seems a lot less energetic than he'd been this morning, though, and Sans doubts it's because he's exhausted from hauling stuff around. Maybe because nobody's there to put on a show for. Except Sans, who's peeking out windows. (Hard not to, the way he works now. Still, Sans is primed for extra sensitivity toward invading Papyrus's privacy right now, so he feels bad anyway, like a reflex.)

Sans deliberately lays back down on the couch and closes at least the eyes he has on his body. The eyes on the wall continue doing whatever they want, which always means they stay open and watching. (Sans could read into that about himself, but he's trying not to think too hard, right?) He'll wait until Papyrus comes inside and actually talks to him.]

Edited 2022-10-24 05:35 (UTC)

[He can get reasonably far on his own, making sure the modular pieces are all fitted together. As joking as the suggestion to add tools to himself back in the day might have been, he has done that a bit - enough for a powered screwdriver, at least. Eventually the stair is assembled well enough to prop up against the building...

But not to stand on, or climb. It needs securing to the ground, and especially needs securing to the building, neither of which he can do with the supplies he has. He can direct the car to move over next to it, secure it in place with a couple straps so it's unlikely to just tip over... But still, no more putting it off. He pockets the parts needed for attaching it to the porch, then stands to retrieve the groceries.]

HEY SANS,
DID THAT TAKEOUT ARRIVE?
I COULD USE A BITE BEFORE THE NEXT STEP HERE.

[Because, you know, it's a staircase. He could use a lift upstairs to get that bite, and more importantly to gather the tools he needs for the rest of this... But Sans likes eating as a family, and he'll try to do that first. Maybe it'll help.]

[In the back of his mind, Sans watches the staircase assembly. Not attached yet, but it's a staircase now. When he gets a text, one eye of Sans's halo opens up to take a look. He grabs the phone to answer a second later.]

yeah
you want a lift?

[In other circumstances, Sans would teleport out in response to that text and ask in person. He'll wait this time.]

[Papyrus sighs and shifts in place, looking up at the dangling chain above the step ladder. It was functional as a makeshift way down, but... He'd really rather not keep testing that. And here's Sans so carefully asking, rather than showing up in person to be annoying. His two-sided brother, back to the withdrawn and sad and self-damaging side.

This cheese had better do something to help.]

YES, IF YOU'RE AWAKE ENOUGH FOR IT.
I WON'T IMPOSE ON YOU FOR LONG!!

[If he knows that a few of the eyes are positioned just so to look out here, he's not acknowledging it - no sign of a guess that Sans has been watching the whole time.]

[Sans stands up, stretching all his limbs and shaking out his feathers so they only look mostly rumpled before he shortcuts outside. He's managed to keep from pulling too many more feathers out, and hasn't pulled any out at all since that weird conversation with Rusty, but still, it's not like he's preened them either.]

Hey. [Sans has gotten his expression under its usual control; the signs of distress are masked like they usually are. His grin is casual, his posture its typical slouch. The stress shows around his eyes only if you know him well--which of course means Papyrus can tell, but Sans is doing what he can here.] Ready?

[Assuming Papyrus doesn't change his mind, Sans will put a hand on Papyrus's arm and drop them off in the kitchen. Papyrus was talking about food, so...]

Ready and waiting! [It's not quite an earnestly bright tone, though it's not outright impatience either - it hasn't been long enough for impatience to accumulate, when he only just sent the request. But it's a little forced, trying to match the way Sans is playing it normally. Not strongly, but audible enough that he notices it as he runs the memory of his own voice back, and rushes to add:] With, a little extra takeout. I should have texted you sooner!

[Most of the groceries with him are nonperishables, and not a concern in that way. It's really only the cheese in question. But it's only been maybe thirty minutes out here, hardly long enough for it to go bad...]

[Sans doesn't comment on any forced tones of voice; he's not going to be that hypocritical today, probably. He takes a step back away from Papyrus as soon as they're in the kitchen, then one more for good measure. If he stands far enough away for his extra limbs not to reach, that would probably look weird, so he doesn't do that.]

Food's in the fridge. [He doesn't think to mention he cleared out some space for it, though there's spoiled food in the trash can now.] You need anything else?

[Because Sans can definitely put more than six feet of space between them if he retreats back to the couch.]

[The two steps back might not be as weird as the distance Sans decides against, but the immediacy of them? That gets a baffled frown from Papyrus.]

Not... right now... [With the story of getting food, he should at least retrieve a small portion of it, and he might as well put the rest of these things in the appropriate cabinets and shelves. The cheese can wait a couple minutes. So if Sans is teleporting off to actually hide in the ruins or a cave or a graveyard or something, well... He'll have to shake answers out of that glitching tracker, he supposes.]

[Sans ignores that tone of voice too. He's good at this.] Okay, cool.

[And Sans vanishes. But not across town, just back to the couch. He's going to crawl back under the blanket now.]

[Irritated static rises and fades in the wake of his disappearance, and Papyrus grumbles as he places the bag on a counter and gets to it. Things put away, a pair of plates pulled out, the takeout bag pulled out to retrieve pasta... Small bag for two meals, unless they separated things into two. Strange.

Suspicious.

He pings the tracker for the details of the takeout order, and grumbles again when it - again - takes three pings before it even starts to respond. What has Sans been loading his phone up with, that it's running so slowly? It's a mostly-rhetorical question, since he doesn't split focus to check - he doesn't want to leave obvious digital fingerprints in the device by digging around. Just getting the order's details is enough.

...Just breadsticks. And only half of one is missing from the bag. So Sans hasn't eaten anything, for hours, despite still being primarily skeletal. Papyrus grabs one of the bread sticks, a scoop of the pasta, and half the bag of cheese to dump onto one of the plates, his own serving of pasta on the other, and stomps towards the living room. Sure enough, there Sans is.]

Okay, master waitstaff Papyrus has breakfast ready. [This tone to be ignored is something more chiding, as he deposits the cheese-bread-pasta plate in front of his brother.]

[Sans sits up when Papyrus starts stomping into the room. He looks at the plate in front of him with some level of confusion.] I thought you wanted the pasta. [There's also the matter of all this cheese on his plate, but Papyrus had mentioned getting Sans cheese earlier. Or at least asking Sans about cheese, which had apparently led to getting him cheese and putting it on a plate.

Okay, so Sans isn't really sure why he has all this cheese either. But the pasta was for Papyrus, so he can ask about that first.]

Yes, that's why I have some. [Papyrus wields his plate in such a way to tilt it for an unmistakable sight - some of the same pasta, in a similarly sized pile. That his plate lacks bread or cheese goes unmentioned.] But I'm a big enough skeleton to share! It's no problem.

[Making too much of a fuss about the pasta seems dumb; Sans shrugs.] Guess I should've ordered a bigger portion. [Not that Sans is particularly hungry right now, but it's obvious Papyrus is going to insist on making sure Sans eats. He picks up a bread stick and bites into it very deliberately.]

[A little of Papyrus's tension eases with the sight, because that's something. Only a little eases, he's wary of appeasing gestures that'll drop and backslide the moment he walks away... But that's something.]

For yourself? If you already ate it all, then yeah, you probably should have! [Because his portion size is fine - the food is basically just for manners, when he's mostly charging and supplementing with batteries and bolts and oil and such. And he can pretend he doesn't know what Sans hasn't eaten today.

Belatedly, he adds a fork to the plate, keeping the other for his own use.]

I don't want to steal your pasta. [Sans takes another bite of bread stick. It's just as deliberate an act as the first bite.] Would've stolen your bread sticks, but you don't have any of those.

[But really, he wouldn't have. He's still not really very hungry, though that's less true than it was when he woke up. That stored up energy is going toward replenishing his magic reserves, probably. (Or whatever it's called now. Sans doesn't think about it too much; easier to just stick to old terms.)]

Or, uh, your cheese, I guess. If you had any of that. [Why the cheese? Sans still isn't exactly sure.]

I've got plenty of cheese in the pasta. [Papyrus uses the fork to stab and twist one, prying it open to show the mixed cheese and herbs and whatnot within.] They're stuffed shells, remember? I've got plenty of calcium with this alone.

[No bones, no need - just habit. Sans, though, plenty of bones. Plenty of intangibility and spreading the bones out in weird ways, and who knows what they might have done for their durability? He glances at the pasta he deliberately put on Sans plate, and makes absolutely no move toward retrieving it, not even a slight aborted motion.]

Guess so. [Sans notices the way Papyrus glances at the pasta. He grabs the fork and takes a bite of that, too. Then one of the pieces of cheese. See, he's eaten a bit of everything on the plate. Ta da.

Papyrus might just sit here until he eats everything on said plate, though.]

So, how is it? [He doesn't think Papyrus has even actually eaten anything himself, actually. Not that Papyrus seems to need to--but Sans doesn't need to, either, judging by the last couple of weeks. Just two guys eating food for no reason.]

[Good, Papyrus could say, but he hasn't actually tasted any yet. He lifts the fork with the opened shell and shoves it into his mouth.]

Good. Delicious as ever!

[This isn't entirely true, given he didn't actually add any of the mechanical additives for enhancing the flavor. And the food's still in his mouth as he speaks - but with a voice solely of broadcasted audio, unshaped by his mouth, it's easier than ever to take a bite and talk clearly at the same time.

Terrible manners, though, and not something Papyrus usually does. His metal face doesn't flush, but the rest of his expression gives away that he would be flushing in irritated embarrassment - with a tinge of suspicion. It's a very Sans thing to do, talking while eating, and who's been mucking around in Papyrus's skull? He immediately takes a second bite of pasta, as if it'll stop him from dropping the accusation aloud.]

[It takes Sans a moment to realize Papyrus is talking with his mouth full, considering it doesn't sound like it. The convenience of being a robot. It's only once Papyrus's expression changes that Sans notices it, and the suspicion makes him look away as much as he can with so many eyes.]

Cool. [Would it be more or less awkward if Sans vanished into his room right now? He stays put for the moment, though his food is currently going untouched for now as Sans tries to decide if he actually saw suspicion in Papyrus's expression or if he was just imagining it.] The cheese is good. [You know, the one piece he had.]

[Papyrus swallows the bland food, relieved as ever that it's still working as it ought to - absorbed into his magic to digest, rather than physically moving through him. That would surely cause an even heavier blockage than the one he feels in some difficult to pin down part of his chest.]

...Oh yeah? There's more in the bag... I'll have to try it.

[Later. He's not wandering away for Sans to scrape the plate off for the dog, especially when the dog isn't here and the roomba doesn't have any sense of taste to enjoy the scraps - the nearly full meal - with. Maybe he could change that, add some taste receptors and capacity to appreciate them...? Later, when some other projects are resolved or stalled out. And when he's not firmly trying to make something better here.]

You can have one of mine if you want. [Sans nudges his plate using one of his extra hands, which means the plate just seems to nudge itself invisibly closer to Papyrus. (Maybe reminding Papyrus that Sans has a bunch of extra long extra arms just hanging around at all times invisibly is a bad idea, but it doesn't occur to Sans at the moment.)]

[It's not a great idea - Papyrus tenses at the sight, his motions slowing with the reminder. But he visibly braces himself and forces himself to relax again, refusing to keep flinching, refusing to keep avoiding. This is his home, their home, and he refuses to stop being glad his brother's here too.]

That's... I appreciate the offer!! I will, thank you. [He reaches down with a fluid deftness that is another automated motion, rather than making himself have to keep making the conscious choice to reach further - or maybe just to grab the cheese quickly, without jostling the plate.]

The weird shit just wrapped up, anyway. [So there shouldn't be anything wrong with the food. There won't be. There hasn't been overlapping weird nonsense yet - whatever hooked a few people into interest in the caves had to do with the light in the power plant, somehow. Nobody's pulling out a pacific rim meme about escalating changes.]

[Sans freezes when Papyrus tenses, though it's difficult to tell when Sans isn't moving much. He pulls all his arms back close against his body, as if Papyrus would even be able to tell.]

Yeah. [At least, it seems to have wrapped up. Not that there isn't plenty of aftermath to deal with, but Sans can't help but keep a few eyes out for signs things might continue, just in case. Like maybe he'd be able to stop himself if he just saw it coming.] We'll probably get at least a couple days off now.

[Or literally a week off from work, in Papyrus's case! Not that Sans knows about that.]

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that indecision of not wanting to get too far with a tag w/o chance for sans to act, but...

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