B1, Day 2 [public channel]

[whattaprick]

[ There are a lot of things people need to do right now: help the Prince's servants get resettled, get started on figuring out who can work on a cure for the petrification, deal with the trauma of dying in a hopefully healthy and non-self-destructive way, show the new people the ropes of what the Carnival has to work with.

Instead, in the morning of the second day since the Prince was defeated, anyone on the radio gets this: ]

So, I've been wondering.

[ The Nightrider's voice, for those who recognize it, has definitely been better. It's a low, hoarse rasp, and the pause at the end is not just for effect, but to actually catch his breath. ]

Just how old is everyone here, anyway? Here, I'll start. I'm ... pretty sure I'm almost sixty. [ A beat. ] ... Maybe.

[ Why did anyone let this man have his radio back again? ]

[ ooc; Lambert's flat on his back in the medical tent for this, feel free to bug him in person and threadjack each other at will. ]

Comments

[spaghettimonster]

Hey, that's right, what happened to your tail?

[Sans' butt has been so many different things it'll be a wonder if it remembers anything.]

[osteothropy]

You're only wondering this now?

[It's a gentle tease, before he adds:]

Mari tentacled it.

[spaghettimonster]

[Loftily, from the incredible heights his height and youth accord him:]

Only asking now! I've had many other things on my mind. As well you know.

But... [But he doesn't want to risk miring them in those other things, so he shifts to more questions. There's serious questions, and then there's this.]

It looks so boneless. She can just do that? Can she do it to arms?

[osteothropy]

Why? Interested in giving the boneless life a spin?

[He assumes she can, yes. Though imagining Papyrus completely made of tentacle flesh is disturbing.]

[spaghettimonster]

No! Can you imagine? All squishing and flopping about...

[Disturbing, and yet, so vivid.]

What a difficult life... I'm just scared she could do that to me! There's no defense against such a prank.

[osteothropy]

Pretty sure you noticed that I was already having enough trouble with the ten-tail-cle version. But hey, on the bright side, I've been told it's not permanent. "The Soul remembers" and all that.

[spaghettimonster]

[He can't help it, he snickers. At last, all these weird changes are pushing Sans to branch out to non-bone puns.]

I sure don't envy your velcro limb. Sticking to every other thing... But you'll go back to the scorpion tail...? Not the dog tail?

[osteothropy]

Dunno.

[He sounds less amused about that part, and at least a little bit apprehensive.]

I guess. That felt... kinda like a soul thing.

[spaghettimonster]

[Tentatively positive, because he has an idea, but not nearly enough understanding of all this stuff Sans and Mari were talking about.]

Well... that's okay, isn't it? All these long term changes, like tails and feet, my crystals and your reflection... Aren't these soul things too?

[osteothropy]

Yeah. I think that's what makes them stick around long term. Like it's written into your magical genetic code.

[spaghettimonster]

All right! That's fine then. The Ringmaster does soul stuff too, she's bound to better at coding!

[Eating people is how genetic programmers display their power.]