[Open] working your fingers to the bones, cause nobody loves you when you're gone

[coolskeletonnyehntyfive]

Who: Papyrus, Sans, and YOU!
When: March 12th and onwards
Where: Medbay
What: Papyrus had a really bad idea that nearly got himself and Sans killed. Sans put out a call for help. This log is for the general followup/aftermath.
Warnings: Broken bones and hearts, cracked skulls, life draining, will add more if necessary.

((OOC Note: The translator event will affect the skeletons, so anyone tagging in on the 13th will be in for a lively game of charades!))

Comments

[coolskeletonnyehntyfive]

He seems a bit confused, and definitely curious about her hand, but he's not afraid or put off in the slightest. And the moment she mentions Sans he nods, as if that completely settles the matter.

"Well, then! It's high time you met the better skeleton, nyeh heh! I am known as the great-- ow," he tried to lift his broken arm to make some sort of gesture, but he quickly abandons that idea and slips it back into the sling. "Anyway, my name's Papyrus!"

[swaddledog]

As he starts to lift his arm, Furiosa finally reaches out to stop him. She doesn't exactly have to though, since he settles it down right after, leaving her hand hovering awkwardly until she puts it back down.

"Settle down there, Ace. Bones don't heal over night."

Or do they? She didn't really know with Sans or Papyrus. They were something she's never quite seen before.

"Bone man has had a lot of good things to say about you. He's under the impression we'd get along." She snorts quietly. "But I can leave if you want to be alone."

[coolskeletonnyehntyfive]

"Oh no, I said my name's Papyrus. Though you can call me Ace if you like that better! It's very cool."

Ridiculous as everything he just said might have sounded, he seems absolutely sincere. And interested in talking to her, if she feels like sticking around. "He might have been right about that! After all, you seem pretty great yourself, so that's one thing we have in common!"

[swaddledog]

Everyone gets a nickname, Papyrus, and yours is apparently Ace now, since nicknames at least gave her a level of detachment that she needed.

He does, however, manage to make her blush a little, color rushing to her cheeks. "I wouldn't make such a quick assumption."

She looks at his arm, rather curious.

"Without skin and muscles how do you keep your limbs from just falling off anyway?"

[coolskeletonnyehntyfive]

"It's very simple!" He holds out his good arm, rotating it and flexing his fingers. There's a subtle clack and rattle as he moves, but there seems to be enough space between bones to keep them from grinding against each other. "All monsters -- the ones from the Underground, where my brother and I lived, that is -- are composed entirely of magic and dust. Everything about how our bodies work is because of our very cool, powerful magic."

He appraised her curiously.

"And since we seem to be sharing, how do you handle being so susceptible to hypothermia and such?"

[swaddledog]

Furiosa realizes, at that moment, that the question may have been somewhat invasive. If she feels remorse for asking (she doesn't), she doesn't show it. It does shine some light on what Sans and Papyrus's deal is after all.

"Where I'm from, it's very hot. There's no water." She starts, then pauses. Furiosa debates a moment leaving it at that, but she decides to elaborate. "Keeping cool is more of a priority than warm. But it could get cool in the Citadel tunnels, and when too cold the War Boys and Pups would huddle for warmth."

She pauses, then adds cheekily, "Also, quilts."

[coolskeletonnyehntyfive]

"Ah! So you must be from a place like Hotland!" Surely that was it. This is a cool human (?) woman from a literal land of lava and conveyor belt puzzles. He likes her better already. "What are War Boys? Are they anything like the Royal Guard?"

Because that title is far too cool. He wants to be a war boy.

[swaddledog]

No you don't Papyrus.

"Hotland would describe it well." Hell, there's probably a section of the wasteland just called 'Hotland' considering their naming conventions involve things like 'Dry Gustie'.

"Ah... Royal guard?" She seems confused for a moment, then shakes her head. "Sort of? They were the Immortan Joe's forces. Half-lifers. Means they won't live a full life. They painted their bodies like skeletons-- white powder, soot around the eyes and nose -- because they embrace it as their bodies. But engines, those are eternal."

[coolskeletonnyehntyfive]

Well, Papyrus can't help but approve of humans getting closer to their cool skeletal roots. It's a great design that looks good on everybody! What's not to like?

"Engines? But they break down and need lots of performance upgrades and maintenance, don't they? I've read a lot of human magazines about cars, you see! So I know a thing or two!"

[swaddledog]

Let's be real, skeletons are badass. Your broken arm is just a sign of adventure.

"An engine you can fix when it breaks. When it shuts down, you can just replace parts." Furiosa moves her left arm heavily, extending it out in front of Papyrus's face. "Things like you and me? We're irreplaceable. Don't ever forget that."

But hey, enough seriousness. Let's talk about cars.

"You ever worked on a real engine?"

[coolskeletonnyehntyfive]

Papyrus nods sheepishly, getting her point. No more silly, reckless adventures in the name of love, especially when like half the ship went out of their way to tell him it was a bad idea.

"I have not!" He says it with all the brightness of someone who would have been able to answer yes. "Humans don't often throw away real cars, or at least, they don't seem to throw them away in a way that they make their way to the underground. But sometimes we get their literature!"

It's obvious the topic has his full attention. Experienced or not, the guy loves cars.

[swaddledog]

That's a good skeleton. Don't do stupid things like your brother that gets you killed.

"Typically, they have to be dragged underground." Spoken like someone who knows a thing about dragging cars into tunnels.

She rises briefly, her hands going to her belt. It's for decoration entirely, dangling off her hips and stooping slightly so the flaming skull was at the center point of a curtain of chains. She tugs the buckle, pulling it off, then dumps it on Papyrus's chest.

"My rig is in the cargo bay. It has the same symbol as this belt. Heal quickly and find it and I'll teach you a few things about engines." She sits down, thinking a moment. "You can go inside. It won't go anywhere without me. You have to know the right sequence and you're not ready for that."