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[The TV coming on adds to the bolstering electronics hum, though it's still not nearly enough to settle him. That the DVD player starts the moment it loads the disc means there's the light and sound of its starting commercials too, which he can hope Sans is distracted by - at least enough to miss the precision with which Papyrus straightens and returns towards the couch.]

Okay... [Manual control, and he sits hard in his usual spot, then hides his hands between his knees.] Okay, good! And, if it's not to anyone's liking, feel free to speak up. Or... float around, or something.

[Sans is trying pretty hard to be distracted by the DVD as it starts up, but some of his eyes follow Papyrus's precise movements while another watches Dinah's soul. He can't focus, and that shouldn't be a problem except that means he can't slow his thoughts down. He's looking in the direction of the television but he's hardly processing it. He's definitely not getting any closer to falling asleep.]

[Being constantly watched is just part of being in Sans's presence, these days. And not just his brother's face, not even the halo too - aren't there a few eyes in the walls, still, in frequently used places like this? Papyrus doesn't slouch under the watchful silence, but it's a strain.]

And... if it's all good... Feel free to say nothing! [The strain is a little audible in his voice, despite himself. It's easier to rein in trembling motions by going by automated movements - especially since he's been programming various movements for use whenever, to make more of a habit so he can more easily conceal things in plain sight. But getting his voice down with a convincing cadence is a lot harder to do on the fly, so there's no easy automating that away.]

[Sans is saying nothing, but the longer he sits there and continues to say nothing, the more he's convinced things are not actually all good. Okay, so he knew that. Everyone knows that. But it's all stuck in his skull, and he realizes that even with the movie on right now he has no idea what it is they're supposed to be watching. Being underground again, the power plant, the time spent split in two--it's a lot all at once.

Sans drops his head back to stare pointlessly up at the ceiling. Then he grabs one of the decorative cushions and drops it on his face, like that will do anything. It doesn't.]

[Truth be told, Papyrus can't focus on the movie either. It's easy enough to continuously distract himself - the background signals are less stabbingly sparse, populating enough to make an ongoing white noise of things to listen and watch again. But he's multitasking with a little more purpose than that, going over the various responses to Sans's post like he'll figure out just the thing to tell them, so they don't all start recklessly spelunking in to very real danger's way. It's not something he has high hopes for achieving, not even really middling hopes...

To distract himself from the failed distraction, he glances over his brother's way. Just in time to see the cushion's plummet, and the way it sits there on Sans's unmoving face.]

...Okay... If it's a terrible movie, you can just say so! [It's not quite accusatory, for all there's a frustration with the very clearly stated movie-watching feedback rules not being followed here. He goes on to empathize, a little hysterically:] I completely understand! Sometimes things are... unexpectedly awful!

'S not that. [Sans's voice is muffled from the cushion, but not as much as it would be if he was one of those people who had to move their mouths to talk.] It's all the other awful stuff. Y'know. Just Tuesday around here.

[If Sans was still split in two, he imagines his negative side would have kept going. He doesn't have to, though. There's something a little odd about being able to be negative but stop himself.]

Sometimes things are unexpectedly awful!! [The on-edge cheer of his repetition doesn't abate, and if anything is all the stronger. Contradicting Sans's words, but agreeing with the sentiment behind them. He hesitates after saying so, though, and waits a second to dare adding:] Things like... everything.

[Now that he's mentioned it... He wants to keep talking. There's a floodgate of things to complain about, express fear about, seek - and give! - reassurances about. Too much for any old movie to just cover over. But... but he doesn't want to trample over Sans's hurts, if his brother really can't talk about it right now. Sans didn't even get the comfort of a shower, yet. The least Papyrus can do is throw him a bone.] This is worse than any just Tuesday around here. It's... it's a Threesday, at least.

[Heh. Sans doesn't move the cushion, but it's not like that actually stops him from watching Papyrus. He's got his halo, of course, and then the few eyes that have remained on the living room walls. They're mostly situated around the couch.]

I said a lot of dumb stuff when I was split in two. [It's an offer to talk about it, if Papyrus wants to. An awkward offer, because Sans isn't good at this, but still. He'd sort of been planning to anyway, before he made that post.]

You said a lot of dumb stuff...? [It's less agreement than incredulous question, though it's a bit of both. Papyrus huffs a breath resembling that bitter laugh, but doesn't outright voice it.] Dumb stuff was kind of going around, there! It's hard to think any of that was true, with how... extreme, all my feelings were getting.

[Hard. Not impossible. Not by a long shot. Emphasized, exaggerated... but all of it based in something true. He has to think it's the same for Sans. But he has to give them both the potential out.]

[Sans doesn't say anything immediately.] Near the end, things got kinda wild. [It's not as if everything was entirely false, but as their negative selves had gotten more negative, it had been more about venting feelings than about complete truth as to what was upsetting. And now Sans knows his negative side had been dealing with LV on top of it--

Which leads to another situation. A situation on top of situations. Or underneath situations, because this one came before anything that started in San Benedicto. New memories that aren't really new.]

There were a lot of things to get emotional about. More stuff than usual. [That's extremely vague on purpose.]

At least twice as much. [Vague and agreeing in turn, as he tries to puzzle out what specifics Sans might mean. Papyrus isn't clinging to math-themed puns intentionally, but if it's happening, it's happening, no sense struggling about it.

...Which really isn't the kind of thought he usually has, or rather isn't the kind of thought he usually stops at. And he doesn't need the ping of the internal model to tell him so. That thought's more helpless than his usual trains of thought, but entirely within the habits that had started forming for his negative self, when he was no longer able to calm down but trying not to veer into anger at anyone. He stares at Sans, sidelong, looking for any hint of that kind of feeling now.]

Yup. [Sans isn't moving that cushion from his face. Or maybe, now that he's dropped his hands back down, limp, it's too much work to move it.]

I guess we should talk about it or something. [Though the way he says it, it's more like a philosophical point than something he is planning on launching into.]

Heh. Yeah, I guess! Before someone else goes and... talks about it for us? [It's not as though their split selves were outright other people, as difficult as it is to relate to the extreme intensity or muted pleasantry of how those halves were behaving. But something - Ozpaka, he has little doubt - did that splitting and intensifying for them. So, in a way, it's as if all those too-honest barbs had been someone else talking for them.]

Badly. [He adds as an addendum.] Talks about it badly, through us. Or something twisted up like that.

[...Though, given Sans's first reaction on recombining hadn't been a shower, a nap, a snack, or any other kind of relaxing refreshing thing, but... the proactive step of sharing what information he had, with all the others who might think to read it...? Papyrus glances sidelong at Sans's halo, a degree of consideration stronger than his dread about this.]

Yeah. No sign that the weird stuff's gonna stop any time soon. [And having all of his negative emotions bundled into one body with almost no filter hadn't been great, but there are undoubtedly ways things could be worse. Ways he could say a lot more without meaning to and with no preparation for dealing with the fallout.]

...Not really sure where to start, though. [But Sans does, at least, remove the cushion from his face and sit up mostly properly. He's still slouching a little.]

...Or when, right? [Papyrus doesn't quite stress the word, but his hands wring in his lap. For what it's worth, he's not quite sitting up straight either, especially by his standards. Part of it is the angled position he's taken to using, the better to give his fans a bit of space, so he doesn't overheat loudly enough to make the TV hard to hear. But part of it is something... tired.]

But there's no waiting until things aren't weird. That probably won't be until we're dead! [He glances off at Dinah's soul, floating silently over the table, then off into the fragmented memories of countless deaths.] Or, I guess, until we're all eaten--! [His voice shuts off with a snap as he closes his mouth hurriedly, wincing a little at the painful abruptness of metal teeth on skeletal teeth, but it's worth it to cut that kind of high-strung sentiment off before he can get too far. It sounded entirely too much like... Well, like him, the way he was getting over the last week or so. Part of how he strives not to be, especially now.]

[Sans doesn't fuss with his feathers or shift around. Sans holds himself perfectly still. Practiced. Like a statue. Like waiting in a hallway for someone to show up.] Yeah. Guess things are about as un-weird as they get right now. [The best they can expect.] Not eaten yet. [Only sort of eaten, only sort of dead. Well, if they can keep Papyrus from getting eaten at all, that would be nice. So far so good on that, he guesses.] Figured maybe if I let everybody else know about the Okpaza situation, maybe they'd be able to figure something out. Didn't really expect--y'know.

[The response.]

[Papyrus nods, something tired on his face. That response, of one person charging underground to do something about it, others talking of doing so, like they were all taking the warning as a challenge, and not in a fun Undyne way. Grief about her is more immediate and raw again, with the memories of getting to know her better, of living with her, of grieving her under other circumstances rolling around.]

...D-Doesn't even seem worth posting the video. [Even admitting the potential futility of an effort they put time into is rough.] Those kids might, uh... just try to befriend Jonas, without even...

[He shakes his head, deliberately trailing off, and tightens the grip his fingers have on each other.]

No, better to... To not give them any hints how to get down there at all! And, maybe, they'll get... bored of the idea. And do something else. [It's not a very Papyrusy approach. He's self conscious and unhappy about it. If it weren't for the cold shower, he'd already be overheating with the processing strain of everything.]

[Sans studies Papyrus's expression. Papyrus definitely seems more exhausted than usual, and he thinks back to the text message he'd gotten after Papyrus had gone back to being one person. His emotional levels had been at 61%, so...]

If you want, I can try and reset your emotions. Before we talk about this stuff. [It's not exactly a distraction. Maybe a little, but it's a genuine offer. Doesn't seem fair to do this with Papyrus at an emotional deficit if they can fix it.]

My...? [Papyrus startles at the offer, and while his expression is still tired, his reaction isn't particularly subdued, even for him.] Wh-Why would you...? I mean, I guess you've been seeing those texts. And I admit, it's not great looking! But, last time it was in the teens. This is nothing!

[There's some reflexive boastfulness, some of course the Great Papyrus can handle anything, even partially dulled emotions, to his response. There's an uneasiness, discomfort with losing his emotional balance in the overwhelming rush - not helped with how the last weeks have gone. And...]

...Can you manage happy, right now? [It's a little bit concern for Sans, with everything. A little bit wistful, with how he's struggling for it. A little bit hopeful.]

[A fair question, even if Sans is a little distracted with the idea of Papyrus's emotions having gotten so far down they were nearly in the single digits that first time Sans had fixed them. Still, Sans gives the question actual, non-dismissive thought.]

I'm not gonna say it's the best time for it, but yeah, probably. I can work off memory. [He'd need some time to rev it up, he thinks, but he has happy memories of Papyrus to work with, and so it doesn't seem completely out of his reach.] It'd probably take longer. We can wait 'til after if you want.

[Papyrus briefly half-smiles, a mix of sad satisfaction at something confirmed, and something commiserating to hear it. He had a feeling it wouldn't be as easy as that, for either of them to drag each other up out of all this.]

Yeah, after is very what I want. I still have backups to do, anyway! And I don't need another... [He trails off, hesitating, then sets his jaw as he braces himself. It's easier to take initiative to start the conversation, with his feelings somewhat numbed, and the worry about how it could go less worrying. And yet it's harder to take initiative, to go into any real details, with so much less optimism about how it could go. He summarizes.] ...I don't need another unhappy reset, right now. It's going way slower, we have time.

[And if they don't have time, because everything goes to shit all at once, then everything's gone to shit anyway and a third of his feelings being missing will hardly be the biggest thing on their minds. That's some kind of pessimistic optimism.]

Right. [Sans is pretty sure he could stop himself from forcing negative emotions on Papyrus, but it's not something he'd want to risk if Papyrus thinks it's a possibility. It's true Sans isn't exactly at his best right now.] So I guess we're talking, then.

[Somehow. It's a lot to talk about.]

Y-Yeah. [Papyrus wrings gloved hands again for a few seconds.] Let's, uh... Actually! I'll list things out. Let me know if I miss any, I promise I won't take as any kind of hint. [Maybe it'll be easier to talk about talking about things, and accidentally and casually sidle into one of the topics.]

Firstly, there's... Well, there's my emotions, and the draining thing... again. There's the splitting in two emotions thing, and how extreme everyone got... [Even the pieces that were broadcast to the network hinted at some big life choices that people will be dealing with ramifications from.] There's... some things, in particular, that various skeletons said. About what we live for, or... or not living, for a while. And there's the terrible choices people are making! Or recently made. [With an effort, he doesn't outright look at the soul floating over the table. Not directly. He just glances, briefly, pointedly, like the hint of attention her way will distract from the question of what Sans lives for or how many times various skeletons remember dying.]

[Sans is perfectly still, and so he doesn't so much as twitch when Papyrus lists off all of their options. In his mind, he's trying to go back over what was said about each topic. Some are easier to think about than others.]

Well. Pretty safe to say my negative emotions shouldn't get a body all to themselves. [That sounds almost like a joke, though it's not quite. It's just so natural to talk like that, to soften and lighten things. Anyway, he can continue with that.] But not the positive ones either. ...Works better with both, I guess.

[Which is strange to admit, when not that long ago he had wanted to dump his negative emotions entirely. He's changed his mind on that.]

Mmhmm. Yeah, I veto any more splitting in two! Not a recommended experience for anyone. [It starts light and jokey enough, matching the initial tone a little. But his voice drops off as he goes, in volume and cheer, to something quieter and serious. Like he's reluctant to say this too loudly.] Even before things got too intense. Just... not being able to cheer up, at all...?

[His negative self had been awake for a while, he realized over time - each half realized it, separately. But he's only now really putting together what that was. Fear and shame, and none of Papyrus's practiced positivity to push past it, and it left him hiding in the dark.]

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