That thing wasn't a human. I don't know what it was. [It doesn't feel good to say it, but it feels like something that has to be said regardless. A rightness, if not a relief. Flowey, though--Sans remembers and doesn't remember that name. That flower. The friend Papyrus had mentioned, the one who'd avoided Sans. The first anomaly.] I usually remember lots of awful things, but this is more than usual. All mine. Not yours.
[Always his. Feelings stick with you. Feelings echo, even if you can't remember. But right now maybe he can remember, or something. If emotions echo, then right now he's in an echo chamber.]
Hmmm... So we're both remembering a lot of things, and... You're feeling a lot about it. [It seems strange, how he still isn't sad or scared - the ongoing notifs have upgraded to graphs, the projections of expected emotions and what he's actually feeling in vivid contrast. But he doesn't have to feel what his brother's feeling, to have some degree of compassion in recognizing that Sans is having a bad time.
Still, he reaches to the snack bowl abandoned on the couch earlier, the one still mostly full of batteries, and grabs one to snack on. Buys a moment to think, reassures Sans he's not neglecting his power or safety.] And you keep thinking about things like these?
[If there's a little bit of detached psychoanalysis creeping into his voice, with Kassabian one of the models he's got for dispassionate listening, well... These things happen.]
You're not? [Sans's tone is accusatory, angry in a way he doesn't generally direct at Papyrus. Even as he says it, though, he's conflicted. He doesn't actually want Papyrus to feel like this, but:] Of course you're not. It's not fair. I'm the one with--with fucked up emotions.
[That's not enough to completely describe the enormity of his issues in his own mind, but it's a succinct summary.]
in which Papyrus comes to the conclusion that his emotional intensity flowed into Sans
It's not fair, even if that's usually already true. [His tone is agreeing and supportive, despite the lack of hesitation in a tactless implication that Sans is usually a basket case. But Papyrus shakes his head even as he says it.] That said, I'm also weird right now! Something... unplugged, or something.
[He might have chalked it up to a robot thing, except Sans is visibly out of sorts - and, as he checks his notifs, the tracker's sent him a few alerts about things. Breaking and entering?]
...I asked if you were feeling my stuff, because, I'm not. I do remember dying... a lot? [His skull furrows a little more as he realizes just how true that statement is - echoes of death, not just that snowdrift area he confronted the human, but also in other places, beset by roots or bombs or just pellet-bullets.] But I don't feel much about it. Maybe as much as you're feeling too much.
not unreasonable, as positive sans snores away in his bedroom
[Papyrus agreeing with Sans about his emotional fucked-upness shouldn't hurt. That's stupid, Sans knew that and he knew Papyrus knew that, why does it hurt? Every passing feeling is turned up to eleven, but only the bad ones.] Great. That's what we need on top of the power being out. [Sans isn't surprised something else is happening on top of the power outage, but it still sucks.] Well, I can't fix any emotions like this.
[Not unless he wants to blast people with negativity. With Papyrus, he doesn't want that at all. With anyone else, that sounds like way too much work to deal with.]
[Rather than express anything like Sans might be imagining, like apparently worry or disappointment according to the projection, he shrugs.]
That's no problem, I'm not in a hurry! [Reassurance, maybe forgiveness? Is forgiveness a thing Sans might be wanting, with that frustrated voice? Papyrus offers it up anyway, just in case.] I don't seem all numb, anyway. I was having a great time brainstorming power generators.
[The tones in his voice, the expressions on his face, they're genuine in their optimism and amusement and kindness. The unshadowed positivity might seem fake compared to a normal Papyrus, but they're miles more real compared to his leech behavior, or the incomplete mask he put on while genuinely numbing out.]
[As far as Sans can tell, Papyrus isn't lying. He's too fine with things, but it seems genuine. Of course, Sans could be wrong. He's hardly objective about Papyrus on a good day, and this isn't one of those days. He can't push away the paranoia that he might be missing something.] Fine. Just do that here so I can keep an eye on you.
[So he can make sure Papyrus doesn't lose his charge or have some dramatic emotional change or turn into a gooey puddle or whatever else. Could be almost anything.]
Yes, okay, okay. [He says it to placate and doesn't hide it, pointedly settling in more on the couch comfortably. It's not that he feels annoyed by the clingy demand, for all that memory and the projections both say that this is wildly atypical for them both... But maybe joking about it will help Sans feel more normal? Or at least help identify specifics of the fucked up emotions.] Just one eye, are you sure?
One eye minimum. [Sans plays along automatically, fixing a few more of the eyes of his halo on Papyrus, but it's just that--an automatic response. It doesn't do anything to make him feel better. Nothing seems to be working as far as making Sans feel better. That's not Papyrus's fault.]
Phew, as long as I'm under constant surveillance, I must be safe. [He says it, but again there's a lack of actual annoyance under it - it's wry and amused, like reading off a script. Fits with Sans's own weird tone and expression, which don't quite seem to match.
Papyrus shifts in place to maximize the comfort, fidgets with his wire hair to get it to some kind of aesthetic, and hums thoughtfully at nothing visible. The tracker's giving him... some kind of bizarre message, not based on any of the preset alerts. A discrepancy with duplication? Was it doing some backup upload when the power went out, and now it's trying and failing to complete it...?]
No such thing as safe here. [It's an automatic response, fitting with the paranoia he feels jittering around. But at least if he can see Papyrus, he can maybe see some of the bad stuff coming. Normally Sans might pull out his phone; it's not as if he can't multitask when it comes to keeping an eye on something. But no, he just keeps watching Papyrus, as if he might vanish if Sans looks away.]
[Papyrus glances back up at a few of Sans's eyes, the response taking a minute to process with his other train of thought. He hadn't divided his attention, lacking nervousness about seeming rude as he normally would, and it's only now that he partitions it.]
Hmm... You're not wrong... Relatively safe, then? Since some of the dangers are too big and omni-present to do much about.
Yeah, those ones. Can't stop thinking about those ones. [He can't. Obviously Papyrus can.] But yeah, nothing we can do about 'em. Might be able to stop you from shutting down due to low power, though.
You keep saying that... [It's confusing, the emphasis on this idea. A ping clarifies it should be worrying - whether because Sans knows something he doesn't, or because the fixation means something's wrong with Sans. But they already know something is. Maybe distraction isn't the approach here, but something more...]
Does it reassure you any, to hear that I ate fine during my lunch break? Not long before the power went out. I promise.
No. [It should, though, shouldn't it? But no, there's no reassurance. He absorbs the knowledge as if it was a completely neutral fact, feeling nothing at all about it. He scrubs at his face.] Doesn't make me feel bad. I know that's a good thing. Like, objectively.
If things are working normally, then you shouldn't lose power. But it's not like the power loss was normal. No proof the drain won't increase. No proof you won't suddenly start drawing more power accidentally. No proof something else won't happen. [It's easy to travel down this particular emotional spiral of paranoia. No comfort, all concern.]
[Papyrus visibly considers these notions, compares them with what he remembers of the last several months - no proof those memories are real either, considering, but working with what he's got...]
Yeah, I guess that's a good point. Okay, watch on! And if you want a book, for while you watch, we can go grab one from my room.
[Of course, there's a couple coffee table books about space, space telescopes, and so on to be found in the living room already.]
Suit yourself! [It's said brightly, without signs of discomfort at the unflinching watchfulness - the discomfort is somewhere else, after all. He settles in for a while of being here, focusing on internal processes for a time.
It's not the same as that openly numb waffle breakfast, but it's not that different. Papyrus is nearly motionless, agreeably staying put and minimizing his activity to help preserve energy - without fears of sedentary backslides, self consciousness about the mechanical behavior, or worries about Sans alike, to rile him into nervous/hopeful motion. Internally, he reads up on the various notifications he's been getting, along with the efficiency of different forms of power generation - would something with steam be viable? Why is the tracker insisting it's running two instances on two separate phones, but the contents of the phones are identical?
Eventually, for all that worries aren't driving him, hope for Sans's wellbeing and awareness that his brother tends not to say everything that's relevant spur him to at least say:] You're not bored, or hungry, are you? I can take a nap, if that'd help anything.
[Sans isn't really bored with his mind bouncing from one negative possibility to the next, looking for any sign of something wrong. And so, speaking of signs of something wrong:] You want to take a nap? [Is Papyrus lower on energy than he thinks?] Maybe you should, if you're offering. [Unless this is a sign of some personality change. Or...] Unless you're just sayin' that so I'll leave you alone.
[He shrugs, briefly but with enough motion to be visible to what he's found average human perception catches - watchful Sans will surely catch the deliberateness of it.]
No, I really don't mind. I promise! Maybe I normally would... [He's pretty certain he normally would, going by his memories and the framework's projections of his norms.] But right now, well. Minding seems like one of the feelings I'm not really feeling. I'm fine. [The fine Papyrus again, except he's more sincerely amused when he chuckles about it.]
Lucky. [Sans grumbles, mostly to himself. But maybe not. Who knows what sorts of dangerous things Papyrus might just "not mind" in this state?] Don't suppose you got a battery level display I can look at. [He knows Papyrus is aware of his own personal charge, but as for putting it up on a monitor or something, Sans isn't sure if Papyrus would have ever seen the need even when he wasn't fine with apparently everything.]
No physical display in my arm, or anything. [He's amused and somewhat thoughtful at the idea - something to flag for revisiting, when he's doing upgrades next.]
But I track it... Should be easy enough to share with you! Maybe if I set something to text you, when it changes by... Oh, 1%? [His hands aren't moving, aren't grabbing for his phone, but there's a slight change in his posture and expression and tone like he's already drafting something.] Then you can monitor by that! Fair's fair, and all.
Alright. [Sans can't not wonder if that will just drain Papyrus's battery more, but it seems worth it if Sans can be sure Papyrus isn't fine-ing himself to death. He'll just have to grab even more batteries. Not right now. Later. Tomorrow night, maybe. Of course, that's more time for other people to grab them first... Sans pulls out his phone finally to check what news he can get under the no power circumstances.] You can charge from any battery, yeah?
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spaghettimonster) wrote2021-07-31 02:32 am
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[Always his. Feelings stick with you. Feelings echo, even if you can't remember. But right now maybe he can remember, or something. If emotions echo, then right now he's in an echo chamber.]
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Still, he reaches to the snack bowl abandoned on the couch earlier, the one still mostly full of batteries, and grabs one to snack on. Buys a moment to think, reassures Sans he's not neglecting his power or safety.] And you keep thinking about things like these?
[If there's a little bit of detached psychoanalysis creeping into his voice, with Kassabian one of the models he's got for dispassionate listening, well... These things happen.]
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[That's not enough to completely describe the enormity of his issues in his own mind, but it's a succinct summary.]
in which Papyrus comes to the conclusion that his emotional intensity flowed into Sans
[He might have chalked it up to a robot thing, except Sans is visibly out of sorts - and, as he checks his notifs, the tracker's sent him a few alerts about things. Breaking and entering?]
...I asked if you were feeling my stuff, because, I'm not. I do remember dying... a lot? [His skull furrows a little more as he realizes just how true that statement is - echoes of death, not just that snowdrift area he confronted the human, but also in other places, beset by roots or bombs or just pellet-bullets.] But I don't feel much about it. Maybe as much as you're feeling too much.
not unreasonable, as positive sans snores away in his bedroom
[Not unless he wants to blast people with negativity. With Papyrus, he doesn't want that at all. With anyone else, that sounds like way too much work to deal with.]
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That's no problem, I'm not in a hurry! [Reassurance, maybe forgiveness? Is forgiveness a thing Sans might be wanting, with that frustrated voice? Papyrus offers it up anyway, just in case.] I don't seem all numb, anyway. I was having a great time brainstorming power generators.
[The tones in his voice, the expressions on his face, they're genuine in their optimism and amusement and kindness. The unshadowed positivity might seem fake compared to a normal Papyrus, but they're miles more real compared to his leech behavior, or the incomplete mask he put on while genuinely numbing out.]
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[So he can make sure Papyrus doesn't lose his charge or have some dramatic emotional change or turn into a gooey puddle or whatever else. Could be almost anything.]
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Papyrus shifts in place to maximize the comfort, fidgets with his wire hair to get it to some kind of aesthetic, and hums thoughtfully at nothing visible. The tracker's giving him... some kind of bizarre message, not based on any of the preset alerts. A discrepancy with duplication? Was it doing some backup upload when the power went out, and now it's trying and failing to complete it...?]
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Hmm... You're not wrong... Relatively safe, then? Since some of the dangers are too big and omni-present to do much about.
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Does it reassure you any, to hear that I ate fine during my lunch break? Not long before the power went out. I promise.
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[He just doesn't feel anything about it.]
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[He's not sure whether conviction, in that sense, is a feeling - let alone one like Sans seems too low to really feel.]
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Yeah, I guess that's a good point. Okay, watch on! And if you want a book, for while you watch, we can go grab one from my room.
[Of course, there's a couple coffee table books about space, space telescopes, and so on to be found in the living room already.]
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It's not the same as that openly numb waffle breakfast, but it's not that different. Papyrus is nearly motionless, agreeably staying put and minimizing his activity to help preserve energy - without fears of sedentary backslides, self consciousness about the mechanical behavior, or worries about Sans alike, to rile him into nervous/hopeful motion. Internally, he reads up on the various notifications he's been getting, along with the efficiency of different forms of power generation - would something with steam be viable? Why is the tracker insisting it's running two instances on two separate phones, but the contents of the phones are identical?
Eventually, for all that worries aren't driving him, hope for Sans's wellbeing and awareness that his brother tends not to say everything that's relevant spur him to at least say:] You're not bored, or hungry, are you? I can take a nap, if that'd help anything.
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No, I really don't mind. I promise! Maybe I normally would... [He's pretty certain he normally would, going by his memories and the framework's projections of his norms.] But right now, well. Minding seems like one of the feelings I'm not really feeling. I'm fine. [The fine Papyrus again, except he's more sincerely amused when he chuckles about it.]
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But I track it... Should be easy enough to share with you! Maybe if I set something to text you, when it changes by... Oh, 1%? [His hands aren't moving, aren't grabbing for his phone, but there's a slight change in his posture and expression and tone like he's already drafting something.] Then you can monitor by that! Fair's fair, and all.
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[Maybe if he steals some car batteries...]
can't deny that worry has some merit - fearlessness leads to kender behavior
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