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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.]

Yeah, sure. I'm overthinking it. [He doesn't really know why he keeps trying to solve anything; he doesn't have a good track record. Maybe it's just habit.] You wanna text the other guys, or just wait until they get back?

[Trading a discomfort for a discomfort is some kind of fairness, though one he's sure he wouldn't like even if he was feeling liking. It's effective as a distraction, anyway. Thinking again about facing this mythical other him - happy and kind, not a trace of annoyance or disgust at the sight of him, when he so very much won't return it...]

...Are they supposed to be out long? [Why are they walking around wasting energy when it's cloudy?]

[Sans shrugs.] Sans--the other one--was gonna check out something he heard from the guys at the ruins. The other Papyrus pointed out he had to be outside for his solar chargers to work at all anyway and I can't exactly keep him locked up in the house.

[Well. Probably. That would be pretty rude, if nothing else.]

What if-- [Calm. Measured. He's a skeleton with excellent self-control, or whatever, and this is difficult but that's no excuse not to make the effort.] Do we know. If them... getting hurt... Hurts us, too. Would we...

[He trails off, unsure how to finish the sentence and struggling to decide. Would they know, feeling it across some ineffable connection? Would they be injured the same way? Would there be no sign at all, like with all the other disappearances, like any number of monsters who dropped to dust after an accident out of sight? He's full enough of thoughts he scarcely notices if Sans starts to answer, busy muttering to himself.] ...I should contact him.

Uh. [They have different bodies, so what hurts one of them shouldn't hurt the other, right? But they're supposed to just have one body, and their soul is definitely split between the two of them. But not everything causes soul damage. And anyway, lots of things don't work like they do at home here.]

Yeah, maybe we should check on 'em.

Y-Yeah. [It's not as though his finger is visibly hovering in the air over a button, given his phone is still tucked away, all but officially a part of his torso these days. To send a text through his phone is a matter of thought and decision, as much as summoning a bone. But Sans can probably pick up that Papyrus isn't dividing his attention between this and another ongoing conversation, just between this and the flurry of feelings and thoughts he's stuck in. (Dropped into, but stuck? That's not a Papyrus sentiment).

...Some of those feelings get recursive, feeling down on himself for feeling down on himself, when he remembers successfully pushing through the difficulty of it so many times, why should it be different now?]

...Did... You... You talked. To him. Both of them. Did they... What am I asking, they weren't upset about you, right? [Only because they couldn't be, he suspects.]

Nah, so I don't think they can be. [Since a Sans that's all negative isn't really much good for anything, except maybe keeping an eye on charge levels.] When I appeared, the other Sans was asleep, so I met the other you first, and he was okay even when we thought it was just some emotion problem and all my positive emotions were just gone, so.

[Sans's positive emotions being somewhere has to be better than them being nowhere, but positive Papyrus was just encouraging. Too bad all that encouragement got wasted on him.

Sans pulls out his phone again to shoot out a quick "you aren't dead right?" message to both their positive counterparts. The other Sans replies with "not dead, stop worrying", which probably means he needs to keep worrying to make up for the lack of it.]

He didn't think it was a little weird you'd be having emotion problems too...? This guy. 'Fine with everything'. [It's an outright audio clip of Sans's voice from earlier, though Papyrus's face goes embarrassed almost as soon as the sound plays. So he's been recording this conversation with a little more detail than usual, even though that maybe messes with his emotions even more. What of it. This is important.

He's distracted from making any defensive comments about it by feeling his phone light up with a text message - the same one Sans has just sent to the other Papyrus, cloned to his by virtue of having the same number.]

That's what you're...? [He cuts himself off again, as unrewarding as this exercise is still feeling, and corrects to:] ...Thanks for not giving me away.

[Meanwhile, to Sans's phone - and Sans's phone only - a reply comes back:
NOT DEAD, BUT THE PROUD OWNER OF A CAN OF POWDERED MILK!
WE CAN SEE HOW IT TASTES SOON, I'M AROUND THE CORNER.
THOUGHT YOU MIGHT BE WORRYING ALREADY...
SO I'LL COME BE IN THE LAWN UNTIL YOU FEEL A LITTLE LESS BAD.
(I KNOW BETTER WILL TAKE A WHILE.)]

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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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