lostcarnival | DAY 173: WELL FUCK

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the psiioniic

DAY 173: WELL FUCK

Who: Psi and Labor Crew
What: Change of Plans...
Where: The Dining Hall
When: Day 173, right after breakfast.

Doesn't matter who you are or what you are doing. After breakfast on day 173 Psi is hunting down members of his crew, using the radio if he has to. He's already been doing headcounts at breakfast every morning, visually checking up on everyone even if he can't ask them personally if they are alright. Headcounts mean shit to him right now, however. He's clearly stressed, has been for the past few days, but he's managed to not scream at anyone at least. That might be changing now.

"Listen to me." He says, nervously looking around to make sure no one is paying attention to them. "Evening radio check-ins are now mandatory. I don't care what you are doing, if I can't see you, I better be hearing your voice on the radio."

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He notices the as Papyrus glances over to the table and suddenly the pieces click for him. Sans was missing. Sans was Papyrus' brother. Here he was freaking out about "anybody else going missing" when one of the people missing was obviously someone Papyrus would care quite a bit about. The Psionic suddenly feels like a total jackass. He feels even worse when he realizes he can't tell Papyrus they're trying to get him back. They have no plan, no leverage in a situation like this. They were trapped.

"...We have to trust the Ringmaster to handle this." She was the only one who could really do anything here. As mad as he is at her for bringing them here, he has to believe she would do something.

Papyrus nods, and out of habit fixes a confident smile in place. Knowing that, if something goes wrong, he should go to his boss and ask her for help... The feeling of being trapped in a small realm he can't escape, as people mysteriously disappear... It's like he's back home! And openly expressing the feelings of fear and helplessness just aren't done. Especially since such displays make it harder for the people around to hold onto their own hope...

"Yeah! I'm sure she can!" He grasps around for something a little more substantial, since it seems Psi's not very great at shouting motivational encouragements. "Like... in Hell! Everything worked out."

Psi looks surprised by that response, and then he smiles, weakly. Despite that he doesn't look happy, though at least he doesn't look as stressed and panicked as before. She did come for them, it was true, but how much trauma would those they lost suffer this time? When would she decide enough was enough? He laughs, nothing more than a soft exhale of sound.

"How can you seem so confident?"

It's hard to tell if that's a sigh or a laugh, but he's at least trying to smile. And making the effort is at least the first two steps. Papyrus' smile gets that extra notch brighter and more sincere.

"Well, I practice. A lot! I think lots of unpleasant, nervous, angry things... but, if I said them all, it would just discourage everyone. They'd be sad, and not want to be around me..." Something about his voice says: he's speaking from experience. He doesn't give any sign whether it's his own experience, watching watching someone else be negative and lonely, or both.

"So I don't dwell on that! I focus on the positives. Lots of good things happen all the time! I want to encourage them to keep happening." Papyrus considers for a moment, then winks. "Some of it is, I admit, natural skill. But don't let that discourage you! Practice is still a very big piece."

And the Psionic has no idea how to respond to that, the thinking so different from his own. The thought that all this time Papyrus' natural positivity was simple the skeleton pretending, he didn't know how to handle that.

"Doesn't that... Feel sad?"

Papyrus tilts his head like he's confused.

"What would feel sad? Pushing myself not to dwell in sadness... is what I'm doing?"

The Psionic just looks away. He can't even imagine it. Which is hypocritical considering how frequently he simply pretends his problems don't exist. Still, he feels there's a difference between feelings and circumstances. Circumstances could be forgotten, but his feelings were always present. When he was sad he acted sad, and when he was happy likewise. He couldn't just force his feelings to change. He didn't think anyone could.

"And the sadness just... Goes away?"

"Not immediately. Sadness... It's still around, as long as whatever caused it is still around."

And believe him, right now there's plenty of present, active causes for sadness.

"But... hmm. It's like dogs who want a bone, making a ruckus, howling for attention, tugging at my sleeve and asking for one! Even if I wanted to my bones away, and I almost never do, the more I stay with them talking about it... the longer it takes for me to get the bone! They're very silly like that! And I'm not falling for it. I politely but firmly close the door."

Papyrus nods, decisively, like that's all there is to it. Briefly acknowledge the emotions, all the aches and wants and downs, then decide what to do independent of them. His frustrated outbursts with his brother, reflexively blaming Sans for his own failures, surely don't point to any failure with this idea.

He doesn't really get it. The metaphor doesn't help either, but he supposes there's really no point in him understanding it. As long as Papyrus is alright, that's something he can appreciate. He puts a hand on the skeleton's shoulder.

"I'm glad you've found a good way to deal with it all."

"So am I!" Papyrus chirps, bright and earnest.

Without some way to push that stuff aside, well. A kind of sad resignation runs in the family. His own grumpy, belligerent teenage years were one thing, especially since it was just him and Sans at that point.

He reaches up, pats the top of Psi's hand. "It might not work for everyone... but, it might. So if you ever want, ask! I'm happy to give advice."

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