do you think even the worst person can change?

#i literally need to go to bed but i wanted to reply so bad. hi. batting my eyes at u #did we ever actually write any crossover stuff with these guys and any of ur muses.... i dont think so #i struggled with how i wanted to format dialogue here because it feels weird to use his normal asterisks #but also its just so central to my writing here. so #ALSO icons are just important to how i write here too so. they are here #* so cool ! ⇢ ic / sans #zheurgeist #* so cool ! ⇢ v. dungeons and dragons

if the person in the room doesn't answer the door, sans figures, then at least he's gotten some good knock knock joke practice. sure, it'll have been a bummer that he came all this way, but really, it wasn't that much effort.

(he wouldn't be here if it had been.)

he's being incredibly patient, all things considered, and it might have served him well to have used the time a little more productively — like planning what he would say if and when he did find this 'zeveth' — but productivity is not in sans' wheelhouse. it would frankly be an insult to his entire persona if he used his time effectively.

or maybe his being here in the first place is a sign that he's not so apathetic as he loves to pretend to be.

* knock, knock...

still, the moment the door swings open, he's grinning widely, glancing up with dark eyesockets. perhaps it's a trick of the light, but it looks like there are tiny pinpricks of light glimmering up at her in amusement.

* yeah. * you're supposed to say 'who's there?'

* anywho. * you're zeveth, right?

he takes a hand out of his pocket, offering it out for a handshake. * i'm sans. * sans the skeleton.

right down to business. that counts as productivity, right?

me when my old mutuals… 🥺

#* so cool ! ⇢ out

He withdraws his hand, tucking the pearl into the pockets of the puppet's clothes.

It isn't a bad question. From the perspective of someone who didn't know, it's fairly rational. Alphys had, after all, been adept enough to develop a way to separate him physically from his superstructure in the first place, and working with her personally despite her grating demeanor had been something Five Pebbles wasn't not looking forward to---anything to stop the Rot from consuming his superstructure.

(He can still feel it, of course. Even disconnected from it physically, the link between this small part of him and the miles of biomechanical structures is not so easily severed.)

"All iterators generate extreme heat due to the extensive processing power it takes to sustain our functions and consciousnesses," Five Pebbles explains. "Even if I were only what you see in front of you, I would require an external system to facilitate cooling. As it happens, my 'consciousness' is still connected to running the processes of my superstructure, which spans miles upon miles. With that in mind, there would be no way to sustainably keep me online in an environment like that of Hotland. Since iterators were typically constructed near or on large bodies of water, we considered moving this puppet to Waterfell, but the excess humidity would have damaged the puppet without the presence of the outer superstructure's fan systems, and the options for 'residence' were both more well-established and convenient in Snowdin."

He pauses for only a moment. "And the color of the data pearls is only somewhat relevant to their contents. Small amounts of data, or data that has weathered with time, display as white. I don't waste my time with those. The color of anything else varies on the preference of the person who put the data into the pearl."

Instead of offering another question, he diverts the conversation entirely.

"Regardless of my forced position, I am curious about the King. And Alphys. I can surmise much about the world as it is now from the things I have observed firsthand, but there are also many things that have changed so much as to have become completely unrecognizable from the way the world was when only we Iterators were left to inhabit it."

he listens intently with growing interest as five pebbles explains. it's all fascinating to him, the kind of thing he would love to sit and study if there was more time. but he's out of questions, and he's half-convinced he's going to be asked to leave.

instead, the subject changes again, and an almost-question is posed to him instead. sans blinks for a moment, actually surprised, and then shrugs, grinning.

* well, huh. * i guess... what can i tell you? * they're both pretty cool. * asgore's a nice guy, very friendly, very warm. * but he can be really intense when it comes to the safety and well-being of all of us down here. * mostly about getting out of here. * so, just taking a guess, if he takes interest in you, it's gonna be because he thinks you might be able to help break the barrier or something. * alphys... is brilliant. she really is. * neurotic and awkward and bad with people, but brilliant. * if anyone down here is going to be your biggest ally, it's her.

there's clear fondness in his voice as he speaks of them both, much more relaxed now that they seem to have settled into a more normal conversation.

* i dunno how long you were down there, but obviously a lot longer than we've been here. * so. quick version? * there was a big war, and then humans trapped us underground. * asgore's been trying to break the barrier and set us all free. * that's pretty much the long 'n short of it.

Despite its simplistic nature, this is another question that gives Five Pebbles pause.

"Data pearls," he corrects, slowly retracting his puppet back up to the line of them closer to the ceiling, ire fading. It isn't a particularly interesting question, but until it was asked, he hadn't realized how much he missed having conversations about things as simple as data pearls. "Even by the time the first iterator was created, a data pearl was an incredibly archaic method of storing data."

His collection of them is, effectively, meaningless. Brought to his can by creatures who had likely not understood their significance or meaning, and only known that he seemed to react well to their presence when they supplied them.

"They still saw some use after they went out of style, but it wasn't nearly as widespread as it had been. Iterators had always been connected to a network that meant sending ordinary data using any other means would have been silly, but we and our creators used the pearls as a more covert means of communication. For us especially, the sending and reception of a data pearl using a purposed organism was almost impossible to track, and it was one of the only ways to receive information without the knowledge of any other members of the network. Given that I have lost contact with the rest of the iterators, they are functionally useless."

He plucks a red one out of the line, replacing it with the magenta pearl he had previously been messing with. Then he moves back over to the skeleton, holding the red pearl out for inspection---there isn't any particular sense of sentimentality in this one that necessitates fretting over its safety.

"I'm sorting them. For the same reason a person might do any mundane, meaningless activity: to pass the time. One question."

#omg yeah that makes a lot of sense #he probably is somewhere in snowdin then since the river runs through there too #maybe even in a room in the library #sans vc wanna come stay in the secret shed behind my house instead? it's more private #boundlss #* so cool ! ⇢ ic / sans

* wow, that's pretty nifty. * we could use that sorta thing here.

he looks impressed, anyway, and intrigued — sans likes learning new stuff, and the change of subject is as much a relief to him as it likely is to the other.

* do the colors mean anything?

the question slips out carelessly, genuine curiosity distracting him from his limited chance for answers. he realizes only a second later, shaking his head with a small laugh.

* whoops, hang on. i forgot. * if i've only got one question left, i guess i should put more thought into it, huh. * it is interesting, though. * kinda reminds me of this cube puzzle my bro likes. * well, i mean, it's colorful. and it's mundane and meaningless, to pass the time. that's all. * anywho.

sans thinks for a minute.

* okay, here goes: * 's there a reason they brought you all the way to snowdin? * i mean, i'm not complaining or anything, 'cuz hotland's far away * 'n i'm lazy. * but i'd think the king would've wanted you at the lab with al.

@universalcarnival | starter call !

* i uh — * heh. * funny, i didn't think anyone else would be here.

the sight of the flower in the ruins is unexpected, but sans doesn't seem... particularly caught off-guard either. he offers little more than a shrug before bending down to pick up the watering can at his feet.

* but i bet you weren't expecting to see anyone else either, huh?

* well, don't flatter yourself. * i'm just here to help toriel pack up the rest of her stuff. * everyone left in a pretty big hurry. * ....'cept you, apparently. * why? * didn't wanna celebrate with everyone?

#apparently im in a post-pacifist mood #giving u both :)#* so cool ! ⇢ ic / sans #* so cool ! ⇢ v. surface #<— sorta but they're still underground yanno #universalcarnival

@universalcarnival | starter call !

HEY UNDYNE !

the booming voice of a certain skeleton echoes down the street as he chases after her, falling into step quickly at her side.

SO, UM... I WAS THINKING. M...MAYBE WE SHOULD BRAINSTORM THE BEST WAY TO, UM... BEFRIEND THE REST OF THE HUMANS? TOGETHER? BECAUSE! I WAS TALKING TO FRISK AND THEY SEEM TO THINK THAT SOMEONE... WHO ISN'T US! MIGHT COME ON... A BIT STRONG?

#* so cool ! ⇢ ic / papyrus #* so cool ! ⇢ v. surface #just a little thing <3 heya friend

"As much as you allow yourself."

The answer is personal, and it shows in the way the constant movements of Five Pebbles' puppet stop for a moment, voice taking on a mechanical distortion that only tends to happen when distraction causes him to focus on the Rot consuming his structure.

If there is a subject Five Pebbles is more knowledgeable on than the nature of cycles, it is the nature of free will. The words of Seven Red Suns from a bygone era are clear in his mind even now, his staunch refusal to be compared to a bug trapped in a maze---only for him to trap himself.

For this rodent to question whether or not he has free will, even despite the circumstances he refuses to directly admit are more than hypothetical, is an insult of the highest caliber.

Not that he reveals as much.

"Supposing there is some force controlling the existence of these cycles, or timelines, if you didn't have free will, what would be the point of their existence? The very notion of having a variable that acts out different paths implies some degree of consistency in the rest of the participants of these timelines. The actions of the variable and their motivations---or the motivations of some unknown force---are beyond your control, but you should question the logic behind equating 'control' with 'will'. A bug trapped in a maze is still able to choose whether it can go left or right, or it can choose not to move at all."

The puppet moves jerkily, lowering itself down closer to the skeleton's level.

"One question."

* ...

* ...hit a nerve, huh?

he can tell that the supercomputer doesn't like his question, even before he neglects to grant sans an additional one this time. what he isn't sure about is why — other than perhaps the apparent personal nature brings up sensitive memories.

well. he can relate.

* ....well, that's your opinion, i guess.

somehow, the answer isn't very comforting. he just can't put his finger on why. and that's the most frustrating part. there's something he's missing, a piece of this puzzle he can't quite place, but he has absolutely no clue what it is.

sans thinks for another moment about what else to ask. this particular line of questioning has come to a grinding halt with the subject of free will, and while sans has half a mind to nag five pebbles about it, to make a joke or something else that will just get him riled up and angrier, he ultimately decides against it.

* what are you working on? * those, uh — * pearl... things? * what're they for?

"You ask complicated questions," says Five Pebbles, but his interest has diverted again from the series of data pearls, showing his personal investment in answering it.

"In the first place, it depends on the tangible recollections of these other timelines, though I would hesitate to label them as 'other'. If they stem from the choices of one person, I would liken it more to a repetition or a cycle where everything remains the same and only changes in reaction to the person influencing the events---'the variable'. In theory, only the variable would know for certain whether or not they were aware of the events their actions caused and the destruction of one possible path in favor of another."

He does not resume sorting, but he doesn't lower his puppet to the level of the skeleton, either. The questions he asks are unusual thus far, in comparison to the rest of the interlopers he has come after; Five Pebbles might even go so far as to consider this conversation worthwhile, setting aside the unwanted humor.

"However, my own experience provides me with the means to provide you with a more satisfying answer to this line of questioning, which I doubt is as hypothetical as you say. For the sake of explanation, let us first assume that the variable is not aware of the consequences their actions have. In that scenario, the variable would not remember the previous 'cycles', and as such would be bound to two possibilities: unconscious action of their own accord or unconscious action through active interference of a third party or force which pushes them towards certain decisions to achieve a desired outcome. The first of these two options is unlikely; if a person would organically choose to make a certain decision, it stands to reason that if you erased their memory of making that choice and led them back to it, they would make the same decision a second time. This applies doubly so if the subjects of the 'cycles' who are not the variable are largely unaware of their existence."

He turns the puppet back to the data pearls now, plucking one of the scattered, disorganized pearls out of the air and passing it mechanically between the hands of the puppet.

"If the variable is aware of the effects their actions have, they are either a willing or unwilling participant in these diverging paths. In this case, however, their awareness grants credibility to the idea that they are acting of their own free will. This means, then, that there are three logical possibilities---and of those, the variable is cognizant of their own circumstances in two of them. Awareness is far more likely than the alternative."

Another pass of the pearl between the puppet's hands.

"Two more questions."

#never apologize lol #boundlss #* so cool ! ⇢ ic / sans

at this point, sans' head begins to hurt. the information, though he asked for it, is overwhelming in a suffocating — though familiar — way. part way through the creature's spiel, he fumbles around in his pocket for his phone, and starts taking notes in an unintelligible scrawl of text abbreviations. he's mumbling under his breath, repeating back phrases and snippets of thoughts for his own memory's sake.

his foot taps intermittently, as if his body itches to pace, but he's just too lazy to move any more.

finally, silence. a long moment passes before sans speaks again.

* right. * i was afraid you'd say that.

his expression is grim when he looks up, eyes focusing on the puppet. his eyelights track the pearl's movement, but he's perfectly still otherwise.

* the human... * welp. guess that answers that.

slipping his phone away, sans slides his hands back into his pockets, shrugging, as that easy grin returns to his face.

* okay. just for shits and giggles then... * if all this were true — * and this 'variable' was really out there, controllin' things, * starting and stopping timelines... * how much free will d'ya think the rest of us really have?

more funny haha d&d sans things:

as a bard, the biggest source of his magic comes from his words. his most-used spells are hideous laughter and vicious mockery. obviously. but he also plays the trombone.

his eldritch blast is flavored as a gaster blaster. mage hand is like those spectral hands that gaster has.

sleep is his signature spell and because his hp is so low he constantly falls asleep first out of everyone in the room.

#* so cool ! ⇢ headcanon / sans #* so cool ! ⇢ out

8gilol

#this is sans. To me #* so cool ! ⇢ vis / sans

He doesn't bother replying to the first question, though his lack of immediate derision has less to do with personal kindness and more to do with the personal interest he has in the subject matter of the second.

Speculation of that kind, after all, goes hand in hand with his intended purpose, when it still mattered. It can't be anything but coincidence, but the coincidence itself intrigues Five Pebbles enough to allow the annoying, playful remarks that come before it to go unanswered.

"I know as much about multiverse theory as I would imagine any ordinary creature who spent any amount of time studying it knows," Five Pebbles responds.

(Nine data pearls in a line. He swaps two of them.)

"Multiple theories by myself and other iterators posited that our intended purpose might lie in connecting to another universe, should such a thing have existed. These theories would not have been discussed between us if there had not been evidence to substantiate them; there are other worlds that run tangential to ours and possibly more that do not."

(Ten data pearls in a line. He discards one, letting it rise back up to the top of the can.)

"Reaching another world would have been a different issue entirely. Our iterations are cyclical in nature and difficult to change; setting aside even the enormity of my superstructure, we were created to linger. Aside from that, from the perspective of every creature in this world, there is only 'something that is here' or 'something that is not'---if one of us had found a way into one of the worlds that is not this one and had thus become themselves 'something that is not here', we would know only that they had ceased communications."

(Ten data pearls in a line.)

"Your line of questioning interests me," Five Pebbles admits, with some small reluctance. "You have two questions remaining. I've deducted one for your joke."

he listens attentively, and with interest. five pebbles speaks in complex terminology and language that sans hasn't heard in years outside of his own books, but it's startlingly familiar, and he feels a bit of a chill come over the room. if he allows his mind to drift, he can almost imagine it's twelve years and who knows how many resets ago: he's standing in this very room, listening to ██████ talk about physics and determination and souls and —

sans blinks, and he's back in his body.

gottem.

* joke? * me? * you're right. the public education system is a joke.

* but okay, thanks. that's... pretty much what i expected. * so okay. hear me out. * now let's say that these hypothetical universes are in fact just branching timelines of one single 'world' * where the choices of one single person influence and create these branches. * except these timelines don't co-exist. one just stops, and another begins.

his eyelights flicker slightly, like candle flames, threatening to extinguish. there's a long moment of silence, and his voice is grim when he speaks again.

* do you think the person controlling the creation of those timelines... * would be aware they were doing it?

#this guy #* so cool ! ⇢ vis / sans

etchif

also. this guy

transgenderization

remember to pay attention to me btw. remember to pay attention and to be in love with me. btw. right now

#mhm #* so cool ! ⇢ mus / papyrus

'Sentient robot' is an offensive understatement for a being that was a god in the eyes of its creators; the bitterness that colors his reactionary thoughts is entirely voluntary. But the jokes have stopped, and the easy acquiescence gives him pause. He stops in the middle of his sequential sorting (eight data pearls in a line, twelve scattered about the upper area of his can) to face his puppet towards the skeleton, assisting arm traversing the paths on the walls of his can to bring him slightly closer. "Questions," he repeats. If the puppet had a face that were capable of anything but a hollow stare, he would narrow its eyes. "I'm curious what use you think my answers will be." The logical solution would be to refrain from answering at all, but the audacity intrigues him as much as the idea itself of asking questions. There is hardly a limit to what Five Pebbles is capable of computing, but the use of those answers to a civilization he knows differs in nearly every way from those who created him must be flimsy at best. "Three questions." The puppet jerks back to the line of data pearls, resuming his sorting. "If I like your question, you can ask another. If I don't, consider it a waste of your time and effort to have come here. When you run out, I won't be as merciful to the rodents."

#* so cool ! ⇢ ic / sans #boundlss

truthfully, sans is surprised by the other's agreeableness. huh. i must be onto something with my approach here. it's a fairly reasonable outcome, all things considered. after all, curiosity is what drives most intelligent people. i guess it all comes down to asking the right questions...

he isn't entirely convinced five pebbles will know the answers. but he's not asking about monster history, or even humans. in fact, his questions have everything to do with computers.

* well, you’re a data guy, right? * see, mostly i’m interested to see what you’ll make of some data of my own.

his eyes close for a moment as he slips deep into thought for a moment. he tilts his head to the side, cracking his neck, and then his eyelights flicker back into existence, giving the illusion of a brightening smile.

* so, okay. three questions. right. let’s see… * if riverboat a leaves hotland at 10:24am traveling at 3 knots and riverboat b leaves waterfall at noon traveling at 4 knots, which one will reach snowdin first? * …nah, just kidding. * i hate sea travel. i just take shortcuts.

there's a glimmer of humor in his expression. sorry. i just couldn't help myself. stifling a laugh, sans climbs back to his feet, slipping his hands into his pockets.

* anyway, how much to do you know about multiverse theory?

tumblr hates when i try to format small bold text

#what are you doing why are you making random letters normal sized and unbolded #* so cool ! ⇢ out

@bonepranks ( sans ) / five pebbles starter call.

"When a bothersome rodent is not flushed from the can it finds its entertainment from, most would consider it a mercy."

Five Pebbles has received many visitors since his excavation. Company does not register as a fond word to either his mechanical or organic parts---it makes the feeling of the Rot the interlopers have not yet encountered seep tangibly through his electric veins like molasses, hearing the voices of others. A pity to Rot exposed to the underground cavern's air, petty and standoffish as he is, when they might have found Looks to the Moon instead if they had only been located a mile further.

Thus far, the skeleton is his least favorite intruder.

"I don't particularly care for your jokes or find them funny," he says, the form of his puppet zipping from one side of the can to the other with the aid of the long, mechanical arm. As he always has, he sorts data pearls, combs through information. As always, it is the idle and meaningless busywork of a slowly rotting creature who was built to last forever. "Seek amusement in places it is meant to be found. I am not always merciful enough to let the rodent leave with a warning."

In his state of decay, he doubts he could cause the harm he was once able to, but the excavators don't know about the Rot.

in spite of the hostile greeting, the smile never leaves sans' face. (it can't, of course — one of the benefits of his nature — but there are still tiny pinpricks of light in his sockets that suggest a lack of gravity to his attitude.)

* aw, gee. * i mean, i can tone it down, but haven't'cha considered that maybe... * i dunno * lightening the mood might help your attitude?

* although, eh, what do i know? * you're not the first grumpy smart guy i've met.

sans drops to the floor into a cross-legged sitting position, the too-long sleeves of his hoodie falling past the tips of his fingers, and he cocks his head at the sapient composite of mechanical and organic.

* anyway, believe it or not, i'm not here to gawk. * alphys already has one sentient robot with a soul, and he's like, super popular * so i'm not really that surprised everyone else is expecting the same out of you. * trust me, though, i hate attention in excess too. * so lucky for both of us, i was just hoping to ask some questions. * since you're clearly a genius.

he keeps his tone casual, words chosen with care. (probably more than alphys is doing... love her, but she's not the most... tactful.)

* so, whaddya say? * i promise, no more jokes.