shitposting rave 2, electric boogaloo

* Howdy there!
* You're not a dog from home, are you.
* So that means you might...
* Ugh.

[Flowey produces a stick out of... somewhere. The ground, maybe? And waves it at @Dogmeat with a thorny vine.]

* Do you play fetch?

 

*laughs* What? You really don't think I'm hot? Really?

Okay.

*smirks* Have fun being wrong.

*sighs* Trust me, dude, no job is worth all that pain.

 

-settles in for the long staring haul-

 

Cronus. Kid. Look at me. My brother was here when you showed up, and he told me about it.

Everyone else under age, put your hands over your ears, cause I'm gonna say words I don't say to the kids in my family.

You set up this narrative. You walked into this place, where nobody knows you, and most of us can't check on your facts, and you could have just walked in wearing your greaser jacket and acted cool and aloof and been taken for exactly what you want people to think of you, but instead, you announced that you are the designated Butt Monkey of the social group you belonged to where you came from and everyone picked on you.

I don't know how you expected people to react. Maybe you thought they'd be all sympathetic. That's not how it works. People who know nothing about you believe what you tell them, as long as you seem to believe it. You believe that you're a dweeb and everyone hates you. Therefore, it must be true.

People want to like things that other people like. You ever notice how someone can go for months without a date and when they find someone, suddenly everyone else starts to notice them?

That's because they see the person in a different light now that they know other people like that person.

If everyone really hates you, people think, maybe being friends with you is hazardous to their social health. There are people who don't care about that--like my brother--but people like that tend to think for themselves, and they are going to notice that you're not like them. You care, too. You care so much that if you're in a room where the majority of people hate you--because you told them to--you won't pay attention to the ones who don't, because they must not be part of the in crowd, and you want to be one of the in crowd, so you spend your time trying to make them like you, instead of responding to the people who do, and they eventually give up. And then you've fulfilled your own prophecy. Everyone hates you. The world is a terrible place and you must be unfuckable.

Well, nobody wants to fuck the guy who spent the last half hour talking about how nobody wants to fuck him, because nobody wants to be the person who shows up at the office Christmas party with Mr Unfuckable and watch their colleagues' good opinion of them plummet.

I don't know how this got started, but if it really matters to you to be liked by the right people, you're going to have to start watching them and behaving the way they behave, which would include not insulting things that most of them seem to like out of hand. And you're going to have to stop introducing yourself as the Butt Monkey Nobody Likes, because the only people who will respond positively to that are people like Sal and Bill who are looking to suck you in to whatever they're planning and probably leave you holding the body.

 

It can in fact be managed, stop acting like a child.

At any rate, it seems I've arrived just in time for another fight. Fun. I can add it to the tally and share it with Grimly again. The success rate of his plan is becoming something of a running joke now.

 

It's not just a job. I happen to actually like being a medic thank you very much, it's a calling! It's not like you would understand since you evidently haven't nursed someone back to health before or you would know how rewarding that is. -offended sniff-

Oh come on now that's silly and immature you two.
-kisses Throttle's cheek-

 

That sounds like a serious issue, actually. I know you can't fix hardwired programming (and frankly it's ludicrously dangerous to try) but have you thought about shutting down your medic proticols when we're in... where ever this is? I have yet to see someone become injured, seriously or no.

It might afford you some peace.

 

-cackles-
Listen to the guy bucko.
No one ever questioned my cool guy creds. Obviously 'cuz I am the ultimate coolest guy in tha whole multiverse.
-takes a bite from an apple-

 

-starts slightly and glances at him despite herself, then snorts and leans over to kiss the side of his helm-

 

Well, no, I haven't. But I've brought someone back to life. Does that count?

And I know about medics loving their jobs. Sev does. And he doesn't get punched in the empathy by it the way you do.

 

Ehhh i don't know about that I lost an arm in here at some point. Might even lie around in a corner or so

 

Medical override emotional regulation chip. Works wonders.

Empathy ain't worth nothin.

 

No that just... seems wrong. I'm the medic. It's what I do.

-giggles and pulls her into a real kiss-

Well I'm sure he actually went to school to become a healer and wasn't just... uh. Built as one. So maybe that's why.

-garbled screaching-

 

* But then however will he be liked for who he is?
* You don't want him to get friendship by lying, do you...?

 

Eh, well, my home timeline collapsed and I'm probably the only survivor. So... okay, considering?

I mean. I miss my mom.

 

-offended muffled noises-
(Half Life has covered his mouth with his hands trying not to screach again)

 

In Happier Non Ampora Related News My Hands Are Once Again Feeling Out Of Place

The Villains Grin At Me And Invade My Precious Hivetower

And They Dont Even Have The Decency To Be Dressed Right During The Sacking

Which Is To Say Theyre Tiny

 

please don't look in the closet

the skeletons aren't ready yet

 

You don't seem terribly put out by it. I think you'll be fine.

 

If that's the only way he can get the kinda friends he'd actually appreciate, then, yeah, I personally think it's an alright strategy. Not a perfect one but well, when's the world ever perfect?