mister10below | [Video] | [Open Commentlog]

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[Bobby's outside, holding the journal facing towards him with one hand and tossing a snowball with the other.]

I promise this is not my fault! I had absolutely nothing to do with this.

[Not that anyone except for maybe two people would have any reason to suspect him. But he's too used to having to give a disclaimer every time snow comes when it probably shouldn't have.]

But since it is here and awesome, I am totally taking advantage of it.

Does anyone like ice skating? Someone go skating with me, guys!

[There's a pause as he throws the snowball high up into the air and lets it fall back to the ground.]

Or if we can get enough people, I am all in for a game of snow capture the flag.

[It is SNOWING, and Bobby is the happiest mutant ever right now. Reply here or come bug him outside? He's wandering around all over, so if it's some place outside, feel free to run into him there.]

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Why? So you could tell me about how it works in your universe makes more sense? I don't think so.

*Sorry, Bobby, these moodswings happen. It'll swing back before too long.*

[Bobby's relatively undisturbed by the mood swing. He's had plenty of experience, growing up in a mansion of cranky teenagers with superpowers. He grimaces and gives a bit of a rueful smile.]

Yeah, I guess I deserved that for the Roman thing. But I promise to shut up about how much sense things make?

I don't want to talk about it anyway, it doesn't do any good.

[He shrugs.]

You don't have to talk about it if you don't want to. What do you mean it doesn't do any good, though?

Talking changes nothing.

*Except making himself feel more sorry for himself. But that's not a hard thing to do.*

It does sometimes. But why does it have to change anything? Anything big, I mean. Talking can have other purposes.

What? What possible purpose would talking about something that causes me constant pain and can never be changed have?

[Oh. Uh. Bobby blinks slightly, because he'd sort of just been thinking about talking in general, not talking about something specific like that.]

Some people say that sometimes just talking about it or getting it out makes them feel better? Like, bottling it up just makes you focus on it more, and when you actually talk about it, it releases some of the tension or something. Or maybe it's more having someone you can talk to about it, who's maybe had a similar experience or at least understands it somewhat, so you don't feel alone.

I don't know, I'm not really good at that whole psychology thing.

[That was so much more the Professor's area.]

I don't think anyone could understand it, anyway.

*And the mood starts to swing back towards depressed/grumpy instead of ragey/grumpy.*

You're probably right. Not completely, anyway, especially someone who's not from your world. But they might be able to understand parts of it, or relate to it somewhat, even if it's not exactly the same.

*Sollux just shakes his head.*

[Bobby shrugs.]

It's up to you. It's not like I'm gonna try to force you to talk about it, or anything.

I don't want to talk about it.

*Especailly not with someone he barely knows.*

And I think I'm going to go somewhere warmer, those of us who don't control cold weather can't stand it for long.

*Its hard to tell if that last line is an insult or a joke, really.*

Fair enough.

[Bobby's going to take it as a joke, and he grins.]

So I've heard. See you around, then.

*Sollux grunts a bit and turns to go, idly waiving over his shoulder.*

Later.

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