[The sudden, dream-instigated increase in things like too many eyes (or at least many eyes, he's not insulting the eyes), or metallic body part replacements, or weirdly visible souls, or intangibility... It's not a great thing. But the worst thing about this situation has to be his brother hearing the thoughts that Papyrus doesn't want voiced - partly precisely for fear of needlessly hurting Sans's feelings - and feeling that muted self-denigration about it. The very outcome he didn't want, and so didn't say the thing, because it's only as true as Sans thinks and acts like it is!
He grumbles and scrubs at his face with his hands... well, no with one hand and the casing of one wrist, as his intangible hand goes through his skull. It's not enough pressure to scratch badly, just alarm him. Right, they're getting up and heading to his room instead.
It briefly occurs to him as he stands - because it occurs to Sans? - that he doesn't really question his brother coming along for it. Of course Sans is welcome to go with, it's uncomfortable being apart right now. They've been trying to keep to their own habits, because it's important to be able to when they have to, and every skeleton deserves privacy... But there's a time and place for that strain, and when things are actively getting more alarming and disorienting isn't really it. There's no sense making themselves especially miserable or alone. There's a little bit of a take that to Sans's not-thoughts of unreliability, as Papyrus actively pushes himself to think something that won't get him dwelling on the sense of helplessness in the face of the latest weirdness.]
W-Well... Yeah, probably! But... [The helplessness feeling is still very much present, as he struggles to think what to do about it. The one upside of the leech thing was that he was never indecisive. The downsides were more than he could count, of course, between the violent positivity and... everything. But it's hard to think what to do, proactively, about any of this. They haven't even figured out what's causing it.]
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He grumbles and scrubs at his face with his hands... well, no with one hand and the casing of one wrist, as his intangible hand goes through his skull. It's not enough pressure to scratch badly, just alarm him. Right, they're getting up and heading to his room instead.
It briefly occurs to him as he stands - because it occurs to Sans? - that he doesn't really question his brother coming along for it. Of course Sans is welcome to go with, it's uncomfortable being apart right now. They've been trying to keep to their own habits, because it's important to be able to when they have to, and every skeleton deserves privacy... But there's a time and place for that strain, and when things are actively getting more alarming and disorienting isn't really it. There's no sense making themselves especially miserable or alone. There's a little bit of a take that to Sans's not-thoughts of unreliability, as Papyrus actively pushes himself to think something that won't get him dwelling on the sense of helplessness in the face of the latest weirdness.]
W-Well... Yeah, probably! But... [The helplessness feeling is still very much present, as he struggles to think what to do about it. The one upside of the leech thing was that he was never indecisive. The downsides were more than he could count, of course, between the violent positivity and... everything. But it's hard to think what to do, proactively, about any of this. They haven't even figured out what's causing it.]