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[Papyrus lets out a frazzled static sound as a grumble rather than weigh in further on the car battery question, because he doesn't want to instigate an argument and an honest answer would acknowledge he just called Sans's idea stupid.]

I mean, I do convert some food to power. It doesn't have to be all charging. [More than it used to be. More than it was in those first days of figuring things out, of accidentally partially starving himself before noticing the phone thing. But he's still mostly matter, and that matters in some way. The private pun doesn't manage to amuse him, unfortunately, and he digs fingers into his wire hair, tensing slightly at the way it feels.]

It doesn't have to be... food, food. Scrap metal would help. Stuff with calcium - chalk, or something. [Not exactly tasty food, but something of emergency rations at least. He doesn't feel like striving to make it taste good. Effort for comfort's sake when he doubts he'd enjoy it is pretty wasteful, and all.]

Edited 2022-05-26 08:03 (UTC)

Yeah, okay. Not as many people are gonna be making a rush on chalk supplies. [Easier to get, even legally. Cheaper than batteries, too. He'll add it to his grocery list. He pulls out his phone. He's been getting updates on Papyrus's charge levels; now that there's two, is he getting two updates?]

[Not two distinct updates, no. Whatever function he put together from this has been glitching in the two most recent updates, with random characters repeating and the numbers doubling up. Seems Papyrus-nice hasn't been paying attention to the output to clean it up, but the design has been trying to make sense of the doubled signal.]

BattBerty chcaarge: 87%89% EBSBM: 28%35% Williwngnggesss tot takte ta nanp: 78%3% HopHe thiis hselphs!

[This Papyrus, not actively observing what Sans is doing with his phone, continues picking at his wire hair. The sensitivity no longer feels nice or comforting, and now just reminds him of how they all emerged through his skull, reducing his bone that much more. What can he do with this?]

Then you've got it all figured out, huh? [Only somewhat bitter, in the sense of wanting to have it all figrued out himself,, with maybe a complimentary follower offering encouragement and praise.] I mean. That'll... That'll help.

[Well, that sure is some kind of output.] I can fake it, anyway. [Sans says, distracted by his phone into not even attempting to cover for his self-deprecation. If it's all in the same order, he can deal with this.] Hey, what's your charge percentage right now? And your emotion level. [Sans is guessing negative emotions Papyrus is the 3% willingness to take nap.]

My emotion lev-? [Still grappling with the uncommonly blunt self-deprecation from Sans, Papyrus takes a second or two to process the question, then his face reddens in embarrassed anger.] He told you about that?! What the fuck, that's not... That's...

[He trails off as he focuses inward, checking the summary quantification for the first time since coming to. The numbers remind him of that sense of a bed of nails, odd spikes and dips in what emotions are active and what have gone completely inert. "Nice" is a word for the missing ones - happiness might better.]

...It's. Not good. [The words are obviously bitten out, between the anger with his other self, fear of what if this is permanent, and shame he didn't notice this sooner, all tangling up to challenge his efforts at politeness.] In... Mid-thirties. And charge is almost ninety. Why?

[The glitched updates cover the last hour and forty minutes, about thirty minutes apart - each of them registering a drop with one of the respective Papyruses.]

Okay, so you're probably the second set. Makes sense. [This Papyrus showed up second. And since this Papyrus is worked up about it, Sans will turn his phone around so Papyrus can get a look at the screen.] I asked other you to let me see his charge levels, since he's way too fine with everything. It's giving me yours, too.

[Technically Sans didn't ask for the emotion or nap levels, but he--well, he can't like anything, but he prefers having as much information as possible to work with. It might mean something that this Papyrus has more overall emotions. Digging into that's probably a huge breach of privacy, though. More importantly, it's not relevant to this situation. Maybe later, if he needs it for something.

He's not unaware Papyrus is upset about Sans knowing this; he's got a couple of his invisible hands on his phone too, just in case Papyrus tries to grab it.]

What, he wouldn't or couldn't say no, so you made sure to ask... [Papyrus trails off with a wince, as it sounds even worse said aloud than he'd expected.] Sorry, I mean... Sorry. That's not what I mean. You're worrying, of course you're worrying, you're always worrying about something...

[He trails off again, and focuses on the screen to figure out just what his other half's been sharing around, the better to know what to yell at him about. The text on the screen is a baffling mess of... extra characters, it looks like.]

Willingness to take a nap...? [He's pretty sure, but not certain that's what that row is.Didn't the nice guy bother cleaning his forms, or double-checking his work, or literally anything? And... did this corrupt earlier, at that time stamp, or retroactively with him coming to in the closet? He's upset enough to try to reach for the phone and scroll up in the text history, the better to read it all - but he doesn't immediately try to yank it away, if he does get a hand on the screen.]

I only asked for the charge level. [Sans can't help but respond defensively; he didn't tell the other Papyrus to give him more detailed statistics! Of course, he didn't turn it down, either. Okay, he's a bad brother. He doesn't quite meet Papyrus's eyes as he keeps explaining.] The nap thing, uh, he said he'd take a nap if it made me feel better? I mean, if everything hadn't already been so weird, that would've tipped me off right away on its own.

[Sans's grip tightens minutely on the phone, but he allows Papyrus to scroll back through the text history. It's texts with Papyrus, so it's not like he doesn't already know what he said, presumably.]

Yeah, maybe. Guess he doesn't have any worries about doing more important things!! [Papyrus gripes, his irritation still mostly directed at his more lackadaisical half - mostly - as he scrolls up.] Can't have bad dreams if you don't feel anything bad... Maybe that's why he offered.

[He doesn't know who he wants to make excuses for, who he wants to blame. It's like all the irritable thoughts he usually wrestles down - through a mix of what, worrying about consequences and hoping for better outcomes? - they're all right at the surface, easy to grumble or yell if he doesn't guard himself. It's frazzling. Raw and exposed. He's going to go hide in that shapeless framework again before he knows it, if he doesn't get a handle on this. Manners, Papyrus. Even when they're not particularly rewarding (or rewarding at all?)]

...Okay. Okay, fine, this is... Obviously I don't like it. But it's not... as detailed, as I thought. [He's not relieved, as he reaches the end of familiar texts and the start of the notifications, and starts scrolling back down to note the pattern of changes. Not relieved, but a tiny bit of dread uncoils.] What's that based on, anyway? Did he bother to say?

[Sans shrugs.] I'd say it's totally made up, but it's giving results for you too so I guess it's gotta be based on something. [Figuring out the reasoning behind the nap willingness percentage wasn't really something Sans had thought about until now. He is sort of curious, though, now that this Papyrus has pointed it out.] You could ask him, if you can't just look it up inside your body or whatever. We'll have to tell other Sans and Papyrus about you eventually anyway.

[The ongoing scowl picks up a fresh haunted element, at the idea of telling the other thems about him. Because it's not fair for them to get to brace themselves for seeing him? Because then he won't get to confront the nice one with his existence, face-to-face...?]

It's not sending from me. And it's not real stat anyway. [He keeps scrolling rather than acknowledge the idea of contacting anyone, looking for patterns in the numbers. The nap percentage shifted here and there, with the slow trickle of power.] ...But I'm sure it's based on some composite. Nice me wouldn't want to trick you by lying, or whatever.

Huh, how's it have stats from you if it's not sending from you? [Sans doesn't exactly expect Papyrus to know, it's just curiosity. Probably some weird thing about this place. It's not like either of them are supposed to be two people; you can't really expect complete logic from this kind of situation.]

I, uh... [As he's already staring at Sans's phone, there's no visible change if he glances guiltily at it. Not that he knows for sure, not having been part of this programming, but he'd guess some kind of tracker. Probably not the Sans-monitoring one, if it's giving live updates, but something based in ... both Papyruses?]

It's not sending from me. [Having to repeat himself with different emphasis, Papyrus sighs and elaborates.] It's probably pinging through his phone. Which, is the same as my phone. So!! Duplicated input.

[Makes sense. The duplicate phone thing is definitely one of those "weird things about this place" deals. And Papyrus pretty much always has his phone literally attached to himself (themselves) anyway.]

Convenient, as long as we're not getting charged double for all this phone duplication. [Sans doesn't really think so, since he doubts phone companies have procedures for "cell phone got perfectly duplicated, one phone number now applies to two phones".] You done lookin' at mine? You're not gonna see anything that's not on yours.

Uhh... [He glances to Sans, and back at the phone, fingers still gripping it. Accidentally draining electricity when starving was one thing, but he hasn't figured out how to hack with a touch. It's annoying, when the phone's right there - the tracker hasn't been working right lately, and he wants to know why. It's not that it was found and deactivated, it still flags major concerns, but... it's only offering details when demanded, and that only sometimes. And he really doesn't think he can remotely hack it without Sans noticing, now.]

...I guess I've seen enough. [Slowly, he reluctantly lets go.] Even if it's not on my phone, since, apparently I didn't exist for a few hours!

[It's not like death, exactly, to have not-been as anything but emotions in darkness for a while. But he's reminded of dying, waking up in the ruins, and only learning much later that hours at minimum had passed in between.]

The other Papyrus'd probably show it to you on his phone if you ask. [Sans puts his away, meanwhile; he noticed Papyrus's reluctance to stop looking at it. There's plenty of possibilities for that, but Sans doesn't want him deleting the charging tracker off the phone or something. Of course, that would probably be a lot easier to do with the other Papyrus's phone, but that Papyrus would also explain it to Sans if he asked and could probably be convinced to put it back, too.] I started existing at midnight, I guess. Dunno why you took so long.

[...]

Okay, I have some theories.

[The other Papyrus definitely will, if Sans's story that they've been split cleanly in two with the other having the rest of his usual emotions is true. Good cheer, confidence things will go well, eagerness to help... Those things are in another skeleton. One who'll probably give anyone who asks access to things like that...

Well, that stuff's probably true, but also probably true is that he won't mind answering his questions about it either. So it's something to resolve later. Label it, flag it, shelve it. He can't quite manage to feel good about... anything, but he can at least push himself to calm down. The things Kassabian's talked him through are supposed to be for dealing with negative self talk, anyway.]

...Oh yeah? [Terse curiosity, he's not that calm yet. But working on it.]

Well, I've got more negative emotions than you. Or, I did when we were both just one guy each, I guess. Dunno how it works now that we're both formed.

[But with more negative emotions to start with, it follows there would be faster formation. Not a definite explanation, but a possible one, in Sans's opinion.]

You... [Disagreement shows in voice and face, though Papyrus again makes himself stop and think about what he's saying. Fear of saying the wrong thing and upsetting them into an argument sure is one of the things he's feeling. Yippee.]

...I don't think. That's, exactly the case.

[It's a good thing confusion is a neutral emotion, because it's the one Sans needs access to right now. He's not even upset by the response, just--well, confused.]

Really?

Yes, really? I said that for... for reasons. [He shifts, rests his hand on his hip, and tries not to avoid eye contact. Changing the eyes he's meeting won't read as avoiding eye contact, will it?] I don't think that's why.

[He doesn't think it's true at all, but explaining his reasoning... Ugh, does he have to? Does he want to? Other than out of impulses like the want to throw his unhappiness in Sans's face, even though that'll just make them both unhappy?]

[Sans could ask for elaboration; it still doesn't really make sense. That's probably a bad idea, though, even if it's harder for him to keep his mouth metaphorically shut now that he's been split in half.]

Well, I guess it doesn't matter. Yeah, I could be wrong, I'm wrong all the time.

You wallow in negativity all the time.

[It comes out before he stops himself, the notion having been against he back of his teeth from when Sans first voiced the theory. He stiffens, tries to talk it back.] Or... sometimes... spend more time, being unhappy. And expressing it. In ways.

Shit. [The last is to himself, a frustrated and regretful noise. It's not like he thought calm would be easy. But trying to balance with literally only a half of himself - or 55.55%,, or something - is a real struggle!]

Edited (half half) 2022-05-28 18:19 (UTC)

Not on purpose. [Sans says that without thinking, but after he does he's really not sure what the point of saying it was. It's not like Papyrus is wrong.] Okay, so maybe I formed faster 'cause I express unhappiness more. Whatever.

It doesn't really matter anyway. [It's a peace offering, of the classic change the subject, to a degree variety. A traditional skeleton household exchange.] Forming at all isn't because of, of anything we feel, or express, or whatever. It's just because something weird's going on, again! No point feeling responsible for that. Might as well blame ourselves for rain!!

[It's not the calmest way of reminding himself about distorted thinking, his voice raising through it, but it's earnest.]

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tfw you've been bullshitting this the whole time

that's what rp is

impasta syndrome... when your writing is all noodle incidents :pensive:

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