Coolness---with flavor!

Dingo stares at the Tale for a moment. He couldn’t shake the feeling of how similar he looked to his sour friend. Was it just him⁇ Was he just going crazy⁇ Both could be valid. Though having to explain timelines would be tricky, especially after all the attempts with his own brother he had to make.

❛Uh. Well, oi mean it’s a timeline that’s rough ‘round th’ edges, in a basic since,❜ he says as he scratches at his temple.

“OH! YOU MEAN A ‘RED’ PLACE! I’VE HEARD OF THOSE A FEW TIMES, AND I HAVE A FEW FRIENDS FROM PLACES LIKE THAT!”

“I didn’t know it was possible to feel remorse without a soul.” He flicks that writing for only a second. It seems a little snarky, but it’s a genuine thought, he knows his own Flowey always laments about being unable to feel anything and how awful it is.

“I still have other concerns however. Like just how low your taking his health. Normally, in my training, the moment it gets below 100 is when it’s time to stop. Getting as low as I found him, then him walking home, without healing, you must realize, sets off many red flags.

“This could be a case of you simply not knowing. And in that case, as long as your reasonable, I shall be too. Because a friend would not wish to actually, seriously hurt their friend, after all.” Velcro does not trust Flowey even the slightest. But he’s willing to be as civil as he can. He knows Flowey would be smart to accept what he has to say, even if he doesn’t care.

The Flowers act stutters a little, before coming back in full force. “As I said; I never intended to do so much damage to my best friend. I felt so terrible about it, and we took a break from training with each other for a while after he’d healed, and spent more time focusing on a practice dummy we found!”

Or rather; one that Flowey had ‘borrowed’ from the Ruins.

“I promise, ‘friend’---I’ll do better in the future! We’re already taking steps to be more prepared and have food ready for if one of us gets too hurt.”

Velcro is another Papyrus, but for people used to Tange, he’s tall and vaguely terrifying. He still has to pause like a doofus whenever he wants to write what he’s trying to say. Perhaps the silence makes him more intimidating though.

When he shows what he’s written it says, “Hello. I’m Velcro. I have heard some things about you, and I figured it best to share several concerns. Also, unless you know sign language, this is how I’m going to talk to you.” he explains.

The fact Tange’s friend is this universe’s Flowey was also lost on Velcro. He didn’t know until just meeting him now. He knows his own Flowey’s a pushover and also a good friend. This one however… He’s heard what other Floweys can be like. And none of it’s good.

“Well! I don’t know how I’d use sign language, being a flower with leaves for ‘hands’, friend.” Was this guy mute? That’s not a common factor in monsters down here. They were quickly shaping up to be an anomoly. Interesting. And Flowey just can’t wait to learn more about them!

....Even if they gave off the same unpleasant feeling as the smiley trashbag did. “Is it about how Papyrus and I were training together? I feel so terrible about that, you know...I’d never meant to leave him so hurt.” 

...FLOWEY---THIS IS VELCRO. VELCRO, THIS IS...FLOWEY.”

The little flower bobs in place, expression a little odd as he looks up at Velcro, who was...not exactly what the flower had in mind when Tangerine said he wanted to introduce him to someone important, who wanted to meet him.

“Howd’eh”, fumbles the flower, who’s struggling to maintain his usual smile. To Tangerine, this comes across as natural nervousness in the face of meeting a stranger; but in actuality, it reflects the flowers sheer disbelief.

How could his ‘best buddy’ neglect to tell him that he was meeting another Papyrus? For that matter; where’d this guy even come from? There wasn’t a save or load file for them, and he couldn’t view their code. A check would tell him more, but he’s a little wary about trying to ‘check’ an unknown factor.

“I’m flowe---flowe the flowey---er---Flowey the Flower. Gosh, I must sound so silly right now, with my tongue all twisted around like that!” Collecting himself, shaking off the strangeness of the situation to the best of its ability, the soulless creature sticks its tongue. Tangerine looks on worriedly in the background. This meeting hadn’t been planned, per say---he’d been putting it off, for fear of how Velcro and Flowey would get on well, with Velcro having shown disapproval of his friend without having even met him.

I THINK THAT IF YOU CAN SEE THE HOLES IN ONE’S LOWER LUMBAR SACRUM, ITS TOO REVEALING! I’D SAY THE SAME FOR A VISIBLE SOUL OR TAILBONE! POSTURE DEFINITELY MATTERS, THOUGH I THINK THE POSTER AND THE VIEWER WILL HAVE CONFLICTING OPINIONS WHICH REQUIRE SPEAKING IN PRIVATE IF YOU HAVE CONCERNS ON IF TAGS SHOULD BE ADDED TO SOMETHING, OR IF YOU FEEL SOMEONE NEEDS TO BE NOTIFIED ABOUT PUBLIC IMMODESTY IF IT DOESN’T APPEAR TO BE RECOGNIZED!

IF THERE IS INAPPROPRIATE ECTO, SUCH AS GENITALS, OR A TONGUE WAGGLING ABOUT OBSCENELY, ITS PROBABLY NSFW!

Velcro has been observing. And by observing, that means standing nearby, listening and paying attention to his movements mostly. Though he can’t see the damage or anything, he can generally tell what shape Tange is in if he focuses on it.

It’s how he can tell what people are signing at him, despite his lack of sight. The magic in a person lets him sense where they are generally, even if it can be near impossible to tell without knowing the person’s magic better or focusing on them. And having the context of hearing.

Through this, he does notice Tange not using one of his arms, and it remaining near his chest oddly. He was confused for a moment, but soon enough knew it to be similar to how slings hold broken arms. Which raises questions.

Once he has issues with the can, Velcro will finally take out his notebook and ask something. Surprisingly it’s not about his arm, nor why he can’t do it. Velcro figures he’ll be told eventually one way or another. Even if it concerns him.

He instead asks “Do you need help?”

As he’s pondering simply just having a sub-par pasta sauce (and the idea of that made him quite unhappy indeed), Velcro slides his little notebook into Tangerine’s field of vision. A sigh is heard.

Of course his friend would have noticed something.

He does so, coming in and closing the door. He’s a little surprised to hear about the sock, Tange can be particular about things being tidy like himself. He wonders why he hasn’t picked it up.

Nonetheless, he’ll do so. He won’t question it, at least not yet. Maybe it’s another dumb sock thing like the sock with all the notes on it. He’ll put his boots to the side, coming in. Without them he’s a few inches shorter… But still towers over Tange. He comes into the kitchen curiously.

The sock hasn’t been touched for one good reason; its wet.

He’ll deal with it at a time when its dried out---and when it doesn’t hurt his spine or arm to bend over too much, resulting in pain and nausea. In the kitchen, Tangerine resumes his attempt to cook, stirring the sauce around. 

The tall man just nods. He could pull out his notebook and ask why he’s here and not out like he normally is, or how he could forget, or even mention putting notifications on his phone. But he doesn’t.

He’s just quiet. He’s used to Tange doing much of the talking. Usually if he misses something or is late or whatever, he immediately starts explaining why. Even just normally, he often talks about his day or whatever. So. He figures he’ll find out soon enough anyways without even saying anything.

He does wonder if he can come in, but seeing as he hasn’t technically been invited in yet, he’ll remain where he is.

“....WOULD YOU LIKE TO COME IN? I WAS JUST DOING A BIT OF COOKING, SO...”

Can’t cook or clean? Can’t do his hobbies? No distraction. There’s a solution. That solution is Velcro.

He comes over intermittently, usually on the same days. They’ve made a been of a schedule at this point. He comes over to train or just hang out. He wasn’t expecting to find that his friend was at home

Like a sensible person, he knocks on the front door. Because just waltzing on in or teleporting in randomly is rude. He’s scolded his brother for it, he will not be a hypocrite! Here’s the tall mute boi.

A knock comes on the door, and Tangerine sighs, putting down the wooden spoon, before covering the pot once more. The sauce can simmer a while longer, since its not going anywhere. Heading over to the door, he fully expects to open it and find Undyne or Flowey on the other side, especially considering how ‘early’ it was in the morning.

Instead, he sees Velcro, brows lifting up.

“OH-”

He’s about to feel bad, and explain things, when he remembers. Velcro can’t see him, so he doesn’t know what’s wrong with his arm. And considering how unhappy Velcro has been lately with Flowey, who continued to find reasons not to be available for a meeting, he doesn’t want the man to assume incorrectly that his arm injury was a result of a ‘hangout’ with his friend.

The fact that his left arm was resting in a sling, and the fact that his head hurt a great deal made it hard to focus. Too many exhausting ‘practice’ sessions with Flowey, coupled with poor sleep, and a vigorous training session earlier that day with Undyne had ended up with the distracted skeleton failing to block a strike, and taking a strong blow across his forearm. 

As a result, his ulna had snapped, and his radius had become fractured.

Undyne had been beside herself with remorse, and had told him strictly to rest for the next week, since she hadn’t planned to hurt him so much. 

His brother had picked him up, and taken him home with a shortcut.

And so, the skeleton had to watch as the living room became cluttered, unable to do much to clean it---unable to properly enjoy any of his hobbies with the sling in the way, and more recovery to look forward to.

Prune wasn’t even home to be a distraction. 

“Ey, that ain’t a bad thing to each their own, right?” He scratches the back of his head. That was probably best for Tangerine to keep his mindset that way- the truth was fairly ugly and unsettling to any of the more ‘innocent’ types of Papyrus’s out there. Even his own Underswap self wouldn’t approve of the blood.

“There ain’t much here for ya, I’m afraid. It’s been pretty vacant..a lot has happened here. Ya should probably head on back into yer timeline.” He wasn’t trying to be rude, it was factual.

“AW...I HAD HOPED TO MEET MY ALTERNATE AS WELL, BUT. IF YOU THINK ITS BEST THAT I GO HOME, I SHOULD PROBABLY DO THAT.”

Tangerine glances around once more, eyeing the barren, dead looking forest, and the dusty sentry station that Horror had been sleeping at.

“YOU TAKE CARE OF YOURSELF, OKAY? DON’T FALL ASLEEP.”

Because accidents can happen, and Sans---regardless of who---was very fragile. It was best to avoid taking risks, if one could help it.

“No no, I get the same spiel from my own Papyrus. Don’t sweat it.” The migraine had dissipated abruptly, his lazy grin returning on his face while he looks up at him. He wasn’t at all offended.

“It is a pretty hilarious trick though.” He snorts, looking down at himself. He was somewhat bloody from an encounter he had earlier with a human that stumbled on by. His shift was going to be over soon and then he’d toss the dirty clothing into the hamper.

Why were so many of his and his brothers alts covered in tomato sauce?

A part of his mind probably knows that’s not what it is, but the rest of his mind wouldn’t cope well with the fact, and thus writes red stains off as being harmless, food-related substances for his own piece of mind.

Horror heard an earful from Tangerine. Of course he listened. Waiting for him to finish his lecture. When he did he gave a low hum.

“Easy now, didn’t mean to get ya goin’ like that, Tang–” He couldn’t finish the rest of his sentence. The migraine returns to Horror immensely, his free hand reaches up to grip the empty socket. A couple beads of sweat ran down along his temples, trying to calm himself down.

“I’ll…keep that in mind. Sorry bro.” He says sincerely through a wincing expression.

“NO---I’M SORRY. I FORGOT FOR A MOMENT THAT I WAS SPEAKING WITH YOU, AND NOT MY OWN BROTHER. HE PULLS THAT TRICK QUITE OFTEN.” Tangerine heaves a sigh, and rubs at the back of his head. He can see that Horror is wincing, and begins to feel bad for what he’s done.

For once Horror gave Tangerine a lazy grin rather than his malicious one, his eye moving from wide to half-lidded. It takes him a moment to extend his hand to Tangerine, when he takes his hand a loud ‘PFFFTTTTTTT’ sound came from their hand.

In all reality he still was a Sans.

“Nice to meet ‘cha, Tangerine. Everyone calls me ‘Horror’. Occassionally they will call me ‘Axe’.” He shrugs, resisting the urge to burst out into laughter from the old trick in the book he laid on Tangerine.

From cheerful, to gravely disappointed within the span of three seconds.

He takes his hand back, and gives the others hand a sigh, shaking his head as he rests his hands on his hips, launching into a lecture of why pranking people with a whoopie cushion was both impolite and disgusting/

Its like shaking hands with a fart.

Painful?

Ah, he meant the obvious gaping hole that Horror had on the top of his head. He simply glances over to the side and scratches the back of his head, before returning his gaze back over to the Papyrus that stood there.

“I won’t lie, it does get fairly painful every once in awhile. I keep gettin’ migraines and whatnot, but it ain’t no surprise.” The migraines were growing intense for some reason; moreso than ever before. The only way he could alleviate the pressure was to hold onto his empty socket. When monsters would witness him doing that, they’d grimace with unease at the sight. It wouldn’t surprise him if Tange would react the same way.

“AH. WELL. I’M SORRY TO HEAR THAT.”

Tangerine doesn’t seem to know what to say for a moment. After glancing around, he attempts a friendly smile, extending one hand out.

“OH---’HORROR’...? I THINK I’VE BEEN TO ONE OF THESE KIND OF PLACES, BEFORE. BUT. THE LAST TIME I WAS, I SAW A PAPYRUS WITH THAT SORT OF HEAD WOUND.” Cue the rather long pause.

“...SPEAKING OF...ARE YOU ALRIGHT? THAT LOOKS VERY PAINFUL...” How like a classic to be concerned for a stranger. His brows are furrowed, worry lines firmly set in his face as he views the shorter skeleton; surprisingly at ease, considering the unsettling grin on Sans’ face.