MOPS AGGRESSIVELY [Open]

[control_freak]

Who: Foster and you!
When: Day 151
Where: Carnival Grounds - Various
What: Psi has hits upon a clever way to get Foster's goat.
Warnings: Foster.

A. Taking Out The Trash

Anyone who generally takes notice of Foster at all will notice that the past week or so, he's been unusually... hardworking. Not with magic or other suspicious lurkings, but with cleaning. He's constantly busy--scrubbing walls, hauling garbage, mopping floors.

He's not just doing his job, he's pushing himself.

Why?

One word:

Papyrus.

Psi's solution to his disagreement with Foster was actually fairly clever: rather than confronting (or antagonising) Foster further, he'd simply assigned Foster to assist Papyrus in his janitorial tasks.

Papyrus? Thrilled.

He immediately cast himself as Foster's mentor, giving the necromancer a whirlwind tour of the job and peppering him with questions and reassurances and instructing him in the finer points of mop handling with an intensity of optimism and good faith that was honestly pretty repulsive--

Foster retained approximately none of it.

Which only seemed to motivate Papyrus to try harder, which drove Foster further into impotent fury, which inspired Papyrus to champion his achievements and potential more, which antagonised Foster even further, which...

Well. Anyway. The harder Foster works, the faster he can leave Papyrus behind, or so the logic goes. He's honestly taking his aggression out on the grime, but he's also trying--desperately--to achieve a level of performance that will shut Papyrus up.

Or at least end the ordeal faster.

...

Mind your feet.

B. Duck and Cover

Prior to the Carnival, Foster had never been gainfully employed in his entire life. This--his contract here, as part of the Carnival--is the most employed he's ever been. Despite that, he's been grudgingly cooperative with it. Until now. Obeying orders and performing thankless labour for no reward is somewhat gratifying to him, honestly. But this?

Papyrus is not just exhausting, not just grating, not just insufferable... he's relentless.

Escaping him as soon as their work is done is a challenge, because he never wants to let Foster leave.

And even once he's detached himself from the skeleton, Foster still takes pains to avoid him other times. Paranoia has a tendency to drive Foster to unnecessary extremes. Now even eating is to be done in odd corners of the carnival, lest Papyrus see him sitting in the open and sit down to enthusiastically strike up a one-sided "conversation."

A lot of his preferred retreats are kind of strange--instead of his trailer, for example, he can sometimes be found on the floor of ferris wheel carriages. Or hidden inside of the midway game stands, a trick he unwittingly shares with Papyrus' brother. Or in the barn's loft--which is cool, shaded, and hidden from view. Between the elevation, the lack of light, and the bales of straw... it's by far the best place in every way but one: getting a plate or bowl of food up a ladder is basically impossible.

Comments

A

[hippocarnival]

"Look out!"

That's about all the warning Foster gets while he's diligently cleaning around the Big Top, before a medium sized balancing ball bounds through the curtains that separates the back from the stage--and it's coming right for him.

Yuya bursts through the curtains right behind it, arms outstretched in a vain attempt to catch it before the collision.

[control_freak]

Unfortunately, Yuya's cry only serves to attract Foster's attention, not elicit a timely response; he turns, mop still clutched in his claws, barely registering the moving ball of colour in time for it to bounce up and hit him square in the face.

He drops the mop. The ball bounces off Foster's face and off to the side while he clutches his eyes and nose with his paws.

He doesn't... say anything.

Give him a moment.

[hippocarnival]

Yuya lunges forward, but he's not fast enough. He comes to a hard stop as the ball collides into Foster's face, hunched over with his arms out in mid-grab with a growing look of horror one his face.

The ball won't cause any real damage, but it's embarrassing. And it's Foster, who he thinks as already having a few reasons as is to be mad at Yuya.

"I... am so sorry. I'm sorry!"

[control_freak]

Foster is just standing there, his paws over his face, clawtips buried in the edge of his hairline.

He isn't crying. He isn't visibly angry.

It's impossible to tell What he's doing until Yuya's apologies push him over the edge. Then he drops to his knees on the scuffed (but freshly mopped) wood, face still buried in his paws--

At which point it becomes obvious what he's doing.

He's laughing.

He's laughing, breathlessly, possibly a little uncontrollably, and definitely inappropriately. He'd been holding it in, swallowing the sound and making small, disquieting, fragmented noises as it built inside his chest and bubbled up his throat until finally he breaks and it just...

...comes out.

[hippocarnival]

He doesn't glare at Yuya, or yell, or let out any muffled sounds of pain. He's just still, and that moment drags on for an agonizingly long time for Yuya as he waits for an outburst.

But the one he didn't expect is laughter. It stuns him for a moment, that Foster thinks this was funny.

"... Aha." Yuya straightens back up, abashed. He doesn't laugh as strongly, but at least the lack of anger lightens his own mood. "I really didn't know you were back here! I was way too focused on my routine..." He comes a little closer, leaning over and putting his hands on his knees as he looks down at Foster.

Whoops didn't get a notif......

[control_freak]

"No! No, by all means!" Foster wheezes. Saliva wets his bottom lip and flecks his chin slightly; laughing and swallowing are mutually exclusive activities for most people--the difference is that Foster never quite regains his ability to do so once he's worked up.

"My presence absolutely shouldn't mean anything to you! Otherwise it'd be an inconvenience, knowing I exist at all!" He gestures dramatically, the tips of his claws brushing his own collarbone before he reaches to retrieve his mop, hooking those claws under its wooden handle and scooping it up in one surprisingly fluid motion.

[hippocarnival]

Yuya's weak smile fades completely and he stares at Foster with a dumb look. Because, in a word: what, Foster?

"You're not inconvenient," he starts slowly, glancing aside for the ball--luckily it didn't roll far, so he moves over to put his hands on it and reclaim his prop. He doesn't take his eyes off of Foster for long, however.

"Is your job with the carnival cleaning? Like a janitor?" It's just idle, curious questions--his tone light and unassuming.

A

[sunflowerfields]

If there's any location in the carnival that's always in need of a vigorous mopping, it's the cookhouse, and Hinawa has since learned how to stay out of the way of the overenthusiastic cleaning crew (aka Papyrus).

"Oh, my, it's so spotless I can almost see my reflection!" Unbeknownst to her, Foster may not be in the mood for compliments.

[control_freak]

... it's... not the biggest mistake anyone's made around him here, but it's still a bit of a mistake.

".....almost..." he echoes, as though he's not entirely processed the statement yet.

"... almost." He repeats it again. Bitterer.

"What else can I do?" It's halfway desperate. Almost angry. At this point, he's mopped this floor under Papyrus' guidance so many times, and he still can't get it right? Or right enough? He's losing his mind. Or his temper. Or his confidence. Or--

He lets go of the mop with one furry paw, clawtips burying into his hairline.

"Should I lick it clean?!"

[sunflowerfields]

Hinawa lets him get it all out before speaking up. Although, she'd be lying if she said the outburst hadn't caught her off guard.

"Oh, dear, I didn't mean it like that." She says sympathetically. "It really does look wonderful. It was just a little joke!"

[control_freak]

"Nothing is ever 'just' a joke," he replies, his tone just benign enough to be surprisingly even. And surprisingly ominous.

It's a form of violence, actually. Hinawa's tone is so repulsive he wants to scream and dig his claws in--to what, it doesn't matter, because he manages to restrain himself by not moving at all, only giving her an extremely ambiguous sideways look and a bright, counterfeit smile.

[sunflowerfields]

She's not quite sure how to take that. He seems unwell, but she'd hate to offend him further. There has to be something she can do to put him at ease.

"How long have you been at this, anyway?" She asks. "Would you like to take a break? I can make some tea."

[criticallyfucked]

"Wrong."

He looks at her with total external calm, but he's neither at ease nor even remotely appreciative; if anything, what he's feeling could be described as raw, unfiltered disgust.

"Wrong, wrong, wrong." He's pushing his ability to seem dispassionate, and it's falling apart more and more with every word. "Do you give your garbage can a day off? Make it a cup of tea when it's tired?" He's practically mocking her--in a desperate, claw-clutching kind of way, like he's trying to cut her off and throw himself under the bus at the exact same time.

"What about the bottoms of your shoes? The floor you walk on??"

B

[pullingamiko]

Miko, meanwhile, is working at the moment - specifically, checking the ferris wheel carriage for spills and the like that might need to be cleaned up. Turns out there is something on the floor, but rather than being a spill, its... a Foster.

"--Oh. Hey! Uh... what're you doing in here?"

With... a salad. Why.

[control_freak]

Why?

Why what?

Why salad?

Because some days the kitchen thinks barbecue is a great meal theme and Foster is sure it is for people who aren't so viscerally repulsed by the presence of another being's blood having touched its flesh that--

Oh. Why in the ferris wheel. Of course!

".... hello." He smiles at Miko in that lazy kind of way, his claws still dipped in the bowl of salad like it's a finger food. Which it is. All foods are finger foods when your fingers are 3-inch claws.

"What do you think?" He doesn't actually give her a chance to respond, because he's obviously feeling extremely helpful right now. "I'm eating, obviously."

[pullingamiko]

"Yeah, so I noticed. Kind of a weird place to eat, though." She leans against the gate of the carriage, her ears flicking. "There no room in the Cookhouse? Or, like, anywhere else?"

Her phrasing might make it sound like she's annoyed about it, but honestly, her tone is a lot closer to friendly ribbing than any sort of genuine irritation.

[control_freak]

"Haha." Foster's laugh is fairly hollow, actually. He pulls his paw out of his salad; a cherry tomato is skewered on the tip of one claw, which he lifts as though in demonstration.

"Anywhere else, and he'll find me."

But the cherry tomato probably doesn't shed any light on that cryptic answer.

[pullingamiko]

"Uuh... who'll find you, exactly?"

Is someone after him or what? Normally she'd assume that his nonchalance means he's not actually in danger or anything, but... it's Foster. So who can even say.

[dorkypantsuit]

Psionic and Ginko are also heading to lunch when they run across Foster in one of his weird hiding spots. This is uncomfortable for multiple reasons. One, the last time he'd actually tried to have a real conversation with Foster he'd ended up storming out of the other kid's trailer. Second, Ginko knew about the argument he'd had with Foster and wanted to help. Third, Ginko and Foster were kind of maybe getting along making the Psionic kind of the odd one out in this situation. Fourth, just what the fuck was Foster doing hiding in the god damn barn? He want's to get angry about it, but it's not like Foster planned on running into them here. Really, he's just annoyed because he'd rather ignore the problem than solve it. Though, it wasn't like Ginko was really going to let that be an option in the first place.

The Psionic didn't even really want that to be an option. The truth was, he still wanted to help Foster with this, whatever this was. He still felt like it was his responsibility.

"What are you doing?" Psi asks, crossing all four of his arms across his chest as he looks up at Foster.

[criticallyfucked]

That's... a very good question.

If Psi and Ginko had been around 30 minutes ago, it would have been pretty easy to answer, because Foster wouldn't have been here.

If they'd only come from the opposite direction, even, he might have been missed--his yellow hair visible over the top of a bale easily mistaken for more straw.

But instead they have him somewhat cornered. His furry arms folded over his knees, he glances up at Psi, then Ginko, then back to Psi--quick, mistrustful looks, with an aggrieved crease to his brows and that characteristically unkind, unsound smile.

"Oh, did I miss a spot somewhere? Did you just realise I'm too worthless to do even something simple like that right? I can try again! It's not like I'm going anywhere!"

[dontpokethat]

Okay, well this... isn't somewhere he'd expected to find Foster. Though, he supposes, maybe he should stop expecting anything in particular of Foster.

Expected or not, though, it doesn't seem like a good idea to let this go on without comment for too much longer. Ginko takes a very small step forward, not quite putting himself between them, but trying to get both of their attention.

"--Foster, he's just wondering why you're here right now. Aren't you supposed to be taking a break?"

Ignoring, for the moment, the fact that even if Foster were working he probably wouldn't be doing it in this particular part of the barn.

[dorkypantsuit]

Psi's eyes widen before he glances away, actually a little hurt by Foster's comments. Admittedly he didn't think Foster would enjoy working with Papyrus, but he hadn't been trying to torture the human. Really he just thought that Papyrus was one of those rare people who could actually work with Foster without working themselves into some kind of rage. And it was clear to the Psionic that Foster couldn't be trusted to do any job on his own. He didn't think Foster should ever really be alone, being alone when you had thoughts like Foster's could be dangerous. The Psionic didn't have any control over what Foster did in his freetime though, only over what he did at work.

Still, he can sense Foster's suspicion and the sinking feeling that he's messed comes back once more. He should probably say something to Foster about respecting his supervisor. He knows the Ringmaster would react poorly if she saw Foster acting like this. Still, the RIngmaster isn't here, and honestly the Psionic just doesn't care. Foster could hate him as much as he wanted to. He rubs a hand across his face, as though he can wipe the exhaustion he feels whenever he thinks of Foster away while his other left hand reaches out for Ginko.

"Just forget it."

[criticallyfucked]

Ginko's presence is.... not a terribly mitigating factor to Foster. Ginko wanted to satisfy his curiosity about Foster, about their friendship back in Portland... Foster can respect that insamuch as he won't go out of his way to stop the man, but by that same token, he is the opposite of motivated to maintain any kind of pleasant front for Ginko's sake.

Which is to say, he has no intention of being nice just because Ginko is there.

"Don't worry. I probably will," he responds evenly--but he's still smiling.

[dontpokethat]

Ginko does take Psi's hand, but he doesn't move to leave. He looks between the two, frowning; he remembers what Psi had said about having trouble talking to Foster, and... well, if it weren't for their work situation, he'd be inclined to leave it at that. Let them deal with it or not, try to talk to them separately.

However, Psi is Foster's supervisor. They can't avoid each other - and that's without taking into account Ginko's personal reasons for wanting them to at least sort of get along.

"--Hang on, Psi. Foster, why are you in here right now?"

[dorkypantsuit]

He stops trying to leave, looking at Ginko and pointedly not looking at Foster. He hates the way he can smile while saying something so derisive. He hates how guilty it makes him feel.

"He can hang out in the hay if he wants to."