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

[whattaprick]

Well, we're back now. [ Also not really in a state to work for long periods of time, but you know, physical limits are for losers etc. Whatever! He doesn't want to be a rock forever, no offense to the people who are actually rocks. ]

It affects souls, too. [ Celandine chimes in. ] Gon could see it in Sans, and in everyone the Prince poisoned.

[periphrasing]

Uuugh. Given that it's poison from a fae, I'm not really surprised that souls are involved in this.

[She sounds super grumpy about this. Didn't they all have enough of soul talk back in Portland? Cripes.]

I know the Ringmaster has one of the Prince's fangs-- that's what the sword that Sans was using during your fight was, by the way. A manticore fang-- but I'm still rather unclear on its properties or how it works. Perhaps I can request to examine it more closely...

[motivenotfound]

Ooooh, hey! Not to interrupt, but--

[She's absolutely interrupting, and she knows it. She heard the word 'soul', okay.]

The soul is absolutely what casts the reflection of the physical form. That's really basic. That's why my magic isn't always permanent--I'm only making changes to the body, so the soul remembers and corrects its form.

That's actually what I was researching before I left... I can try to help, if you want.

[osteothropy]

I hope my soul remembers not having a scorpion butt.

[Mari science is science he can relate to.]

[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.]

[periphrasing]

[That's... actually super helpful? Thanks Mari.]

Hmmm.... That does help clarify some things... but if I'm understanding correctly, it leaves us with an even bigger problem. Because what that sounds like to me, is that the foundational blueprint of the physical body has been tampered with, and I have even less of an understanding of how to fix that than I do human biology!

Guhhhhh. I don't suppose that correction process works in reverse, does it?

[motivenotfound]

No dice, sorry!

We're gonna have to come up with some other way.

But! If we can reach the soul, the body should follow suit.

... though it's probably easier to reach the soul through the body anyway. Definitely safer.

[whattaprick]

[ Lambert's just sort of been listening to this this whole time, with a frown and touch of impatience. This isn't really his forte, either, but ... ]

I don't know any potions that can touch the soul, but I know my way around a decent amount of alchemy. And it looks like we've got a new medic. So if someone else can figure out the magic or spirit or whatever part of it, maybe we can come up with something.

[ Spoken like, you know, he's not someone who should be on bedrest for the next week at least. But he hates sitting still. ]