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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.)]

No problem. You can tell 'em whenever you want, as long as it's not never. [Sans doesn't feel better about hearing from the other Sans and Papyrus. The worry about what they're doing slides down the priority list, but there are plenty of other things to take its place. Like the message he got from the other Papyrus, for example. Still trying to be encouraging. He knows Sans literally can't be encouraged, right?]

Why does he keep trying? [Sans can't decide if he feels more guilty or frustrated by it.]

[He nods slowly, not realizing how soon it's likely to be. Drafts fragments of possible messages, shooting them to future deletion as some part or another causes a too-strong negative reaction. Too apologetic, too aggressive, too robotic...]

...Trying?

[Even if feelings of concern aren't quite happening, more a fragmented mix of curiosity and worry, at the very least asking after Sans's problems lets him dither on sending his message. (That's not how it works, he can multitask to do them both easily. But it's an excuse.)]

He--the other Papyrus--said he'd stand on the lawn until I felt less bad. So I guess he'll be there forever, but at least I'll know where he is. [That's not fair; Papyrus is just being nice to him. He doesn't know why Papyrus is so nice to him. Well, probably because he can't not be. He's stuck that way. This Papyrus is the one who doesn't have to be.]

He's heading back here. I'm guessing you didn't see the message. [Otherwise he wouldn't have had to ask what Sans was talking about.]

[Every anecdote of what the other Papyrus said or did just baffles and annoys Papyrus further. Why stand in the lawn, specifically - is he pretending to be a flower? If he's coming to keep Sans company, wouldn't the porch be a better option?] Why...?

[But he could follow that with where, and when, because those thoughts are fleeting or shunted to a smaller partition - the bigger and more alarming thought is that the countdown's already on. And, going by his internal model of his old usual behavior? It's probably less than ten minutes, if he's texting about it without specifying a time. Papyrus mumbles a couple more swears, then focuses. Not texting and having an angry confrontation about existing seems awful compared to giving a heads up and meeting each other outside. In the lawn, to be flowers or whatever, if they must. He sends a message off, and doesn't share it with Sans.

Sans, though, gets another text from Papyrus's number.
I JUST GOT A WEIRD TEXT,
THERE'S ANOTHER ME?]

Probably so he can get as much charge from the sun as he can right now. [Under the porch might be acceptable if it was sunny out, but with all the clouds, Sans can't say Papyrus getting maximum sunlight exposure is bad.]

You text him? He's asking me about you.

[There's a pause as Sans considers the appropriate response, and finally he just sends back "yeah".]

... Yeah. [His face is tense with a poorly concealed grimace, but he turns away to open the bedroom door.] He's almost here, after all!! No point putting it off!!!

[Another text comes back after a few seconds, a stream of thought response.

OH, THAT'S EXCITING!
I THINK.

HOPE YOU'LL BE OKAY WITH DOUBLE THE PAPYRUS COMPANY!

If the budding conversation between the Papyruses is giving him the impression sticking around wouldn't be welcome, he's not mentioning it.]

[Sans sends back "two of you is better than two of me", which is true even if one of the Papyruses is full of negative emotions.]

Guess I'll meet you guys outside, then. [And Sans vanishes, teleporting to the front yard.]

[The Papyrus inside the house freezes up in the doorway, relieved and alarmed by the moment of privacy before an unprepared confrontation. What if he just hid back in the closet, now that no one's around to notice, could he - no, no, Sans would just find him again, and even if he didn't this nicer Papyrus would surely come for clothes eventually. No sense leaving the opening for terrible skeleton in the closet jokes - his train of thought derails and he makes a strangled noise at realizing, no wonder that's where he woke up, full of the kinds of awful feelings he tries to shove away, he's already a joke...

Outside, Sans quickly receives the reply, "I WON'T ARGUE THAT!! SEE YOU SOON."

It's belated, because that Papyrus is already in sight - several houses down the street, and he waves enthusiastically the moment he sees Sans appear in the yard.]

Hey!! You beat me to the yard, I wasn't expecting that. Congrats!!

[Sans keeps a few eye sockets on the front door, waiting on Papyrus, but he can do that and turn toward the other Papyrus--first Papyrus?--at the same time. He shrugs.]

I've always got a shortcut handy. [The shortcuts thing is a dumb joke, usually one he tells mostly to himself in front of people who don't know about his teleportation, but also one that sees a lot of use in the "make Papyrus roll his eyes" department. Always a busy department. Sans doesn't feel anything about making it this time. Not a surprise; he's just trying to act the part.

The second Papyrus better get out here soon. It can't take that long to walk from Papyrus's bedroom to the front door.]

Yeah, yeah.... [Papyrus gives an obligatory eye roll as he calls back, but it's as much playing the part as Sans's joke itself - too blatantly amused and fondly. Annoyance about things like that is deactivated - or, as it happens, somewhere else right now.]

Is he here? If he woke up in bed, I may have to make a little fun of him. [After all, that's where the other Sans woke up - which makes sense, waking up in bed and all. Or maybe he'd been in bed and this Sans woke up somewhere else...? The chronology of which Sans was around when and where is a little muddled for him, with all of the confused notifications last night.

Inside, Papyrus has hastily grabbed a skull baseball cap and pulled it down low on his skull, the better to hide any tears he's equally hastily wiped off his face. He's heading down the stairs, only half-assured he's not going to suddenly come face-to-face with a happier him that's decided to come inside instead... And muttering empty 'optimistic' words to himself, even if there's any wall-eyes seeing him.]

[Sans does indeed spot Papyrus through a few of the eyes on the wall--they've diminished to their old levels, but that still places some in the living room, some in the kitchen, and several in the hallway. Of course, this particular Sans isn't the only one who uses those, and so Papyrus (both of them) will get a text:

there's a papyrus 2 now?
sup

Meanwhile outside, Sans debates how much he should tell positive Papyrus before the two actually get to meet. He falls back on the usual: lying. Just a little bit. So he's not a good person, he knows that already.]

Nah, but I did find him in your room. [...] Sorry, guess I went in without asking, but I kinda thought someone was breaking into the house, so. [Shrug. He still feels reflexively bad about it somehow.]

[It probably doesn't help his apology feel meaningful, when the Papyrus in front of him shrugs it off without complaint - unlike his counterpart inside.]

That sounds like a reasonable reason to go in there! I'd rather we know about any break-ins, and help unbreak them back out. And... [His eyes shift slightly with his attention, before he focuses again.] Oh, that wasn't you.

[Inside, the other Papyrus pauses at a window to look outside for signs of them, only to frown at the air as he notices the text come in. Right. Two of Sans, too.
"THAT.
UHH.
IS THAT HOW YOU'RE NICKNAMING YOURSELVES"

He doesn't like it, doesn't want to be an outright second-thought in that way, but he also kind of feels like he deserves it. And there's an impulse to push himself to think better of himself, but... no. It's not working. (Is this how Sans usually feels?)]

[Of course Papyrus is fine with it, this Papyrus is fine with everything. Well, it's not like Sans is capable of feeling better either way.] What wasn't me? [Oh, right, there's two of him. He knows the face Papyrus makes when he gets a text by now, but being split into two people is new enough that it's not the first thing that comes to mind for explanations.] Is the other Sans texting you?

[nah
we haven't picked nicknames
you got a better idea?
and do you want me to head back home?

Positive Sans is definitely curious to meet the new Papyrus--assuming it's the same situation, this one must have all of Papyrus's negative feelings, right?--but he doesn't want to overwhelm the guy or anything.]

I think he - yeah, the other you is definitely texting the other me. [He briefly considers the start of the odd texts - that greeting of 'sup' - with a glance towards the house, as if skeletons are going to start popping out all the windows if this dividing trend continues.] Or maybe the other way around. They're talking about nicknames. Do we need nicknames?

[Inside, it's not quite a relief to hear that they're not Sans1 and Sans2 now, that there's no expectation of labeling him the same way... but it is a release of unhappiness that brings him a little closer to neutral. That's something. Sans asking, instead of teleporting behind him, is something too.

"IT'S STILL YOUR HOUSE TOO, NICKNAME OR NO NICKNAME!!
YOU CAN COME BACK SOONER OR LATER.
BUT. IF YOU'RE OFFERING,
MAYBE LATER THAN SOONER.
YOU COULD GRAB TAKEOUT"

A second passes, and:
"WAIT, THERE'S NO TAKEOUT
NEVERMIND."

He scrubs at his face again, feeling a fresh wave of self conscious stupidity that he's worried he didn't hide well enough in those texts, and shakes his head. Taking a minute doesn't seem to be making any of this any easier to deal with. Might as well fix a bland smile on his face and do what he can not to drag the others down. He heads to the front door.]

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i have to drag it out just long enough to appreciate the 2 simultaneous threads here

multi-thread drifting

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we've hit danger zone: conversing with each other directly, rather than at someone else in tandem

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