SO. TO KICK OFF THE WEEK OF SPECULATION BEFORE THE UPDATE DROPS.
last night i had a bit of a Revelation. literally. i borderline woke up in a cold sweat with this realization. the way i lunged for my laptop to scream at friends... ough. lets get into it
so. i do believe I've made a couple of theory posts about Barnaby not being quite as receptive to his and Wally's "forced" best friendship as Wally - since the show wrote them to be friends instead of it happening naturally. i thought it might be a point of tension for Barn. i thought a lot.
YES SO I'M TOSSING (almost) ALL OF THAT OUT THE WINDOW!
the bios state Barnaby as Wally's best friend multiple times over. it had to be regularly reinforced. their colors were chosen to mark them as friends.
but Barnaby - presumably - can't see the bios, he wouldn't know the scripts. the friendship would be natural from his perspective. how would he know otherwise? even if the relationship started out synthetic, i don't doubt that it became genuine. in the context of their world and perceptions, realistically speaking Barnaby probably wouldn't sense anything wrong.
the reminders to be best friends weren't for Barnaby.
they were for Wally.
i'm starting to suspect that Wally is Barnaby's best friend, but Barnaby isn't Wally's. i think that Wally's "best friend" is Home - or at least Wally has a closer connection to them / Home is more important to Wally than anyone else is.
i remember reading this livestream trivia (from theneighborhoodwatch's doc, if you haven't their resources yet what are you even doing?):
and i assumed it was for Barnaby's side of the relationship. but it's not, is it? it's Wally's? and it makes too much fucking Sense! it fits! i can see it perfectly! i can feel things slotting together in my mind due to this shift in perspective, and i'm scared
Barnaby probably thinks the relationship is natural, just like how he thinks he's a real person in a real world. Wally probably knows that the relationship is a role, just like how he knows he's a puppet in a false reality.
that leaves me wondering how much of it is genuine on Wally's side. i don't doubt that they really are friends, but how deep does that connection go? in the interview, Wally sounded excited/proud about having a best friend, but how much came from a place of feeling, and how much came from a place of Fulfilling The Role? how much of it is performative? how much of it is a mask?
i've been seeing everything differently. Barnaby poses for Wally the most because he has good balance and is good at staying still, not because of favoritism or because he's Wally's best friend. in the 14 (15 including the hidden halloween) audios, Barnaby consistently seeks out Wally and checks in on him. Wally seems more casual about their relationship than Barnaby is.
i'm worried that Wally values Home & You/Us over Barnaby. that Barnaby is second or third place in Wally's heart. that Wally means more to Barnaby than he means to Wally. after all, only one of them needed their relationship to be reinforced on a seemingly regular basis.
i'm confident that Wally cares about / loves Barnaby, but the question is how much? to what extent?
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'I don't know what you're-a trying to say…' Peppino sighed, exasperated. He went to turn away, when-
'Pe-Pino.'
The voice… it was his voice, but the cadence was just slightly off. An imperfect mimicry, but close enough that it immediately fired every panic neuron in his brain at once.
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A little piece of writing to nail down the vibes im going for with my interpretation of Fake Peppino! Having a normal fun day in the kitchen where nothing uncomfortable or weird happens.
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'Pe- pi- no.'
Peppino tried not to flinch when he felt the heavy wet hand on his shoulder and the voice gurgling in his ear. Deep breaths- okay. He inhaled sharply and grit his teeth, bracing himself before he turned around.
It hadn't been easy, getting used to… that thing. Fake Peppino, as he had been calling it in his head. But he did feel admittedly a little guilty for destroying the tower- its home, really- and it didn't ask to be made like that. Still, he wished it hadn't decided to stick around sometimes. He'd spent an entire week just trying to make sure it didn't attack him on sight! And even then, it STILL chased him from time to time...
But he had reached an uneasy accord with his doppelganger, or at least thought so. He seemed more sedate at any rate, and Peppino had even managed to talk it into helping in the kitchen- which is where he was now, spreading a ball of dough thin with his knuckles, before he was so rudely interrupted.
He turned and forced a smile, trying to cover up his nerves with fake confidence. Ghh- he never got used to seeing him. His fake looked like him, but… uncanny. Stretched. Something wearing the wrong size of his skin. It made a weird bubbling noise- Peppino had come to learn that was its 'excited sound'- and grasped his wrist to tug him to the other side of the kitchen.
'Okay, o-kay! Slow down- whats-a the rush, paisano? What do you want to-a show me?'
Peppino tugged his wrist free and returned his hands to their comfortable position, tugging nervously on his tank top. Fake Peppino had dragged him over to the pizza oven. It was a great brick thing- a traditional piece and easily the most expensive thing in the whole restaurant, but also something he would never sell. After all, what kind of a pizza chef would he be without his pizza oven?
His clone straightened up then, drawing an involuntary shiver out of Peppino. It looked at him. Peppino looked back. He briefly made eye contact, watching as the fake's right eye slowly dribbled down his face- he glanced away before it started to make his heart pound any louder.
'Ah… what? What is it?' He mumbled again, shrivelling a little under the unyielding gaze. He may have been his clone, but they apparently didn't copy the part of him that hated prolonged eye contact, ugh. He chanced another look. His double was looking at him almost expectantly.
Suddenly, he raised an arm- quick enough to make Peppino flinch. But he didn't strike. He simply pointed- one finger poking Peppino in the chest. Then he moved his hand to point at the oven, the heat of which was beginning to make even more sweat bead on his forehead.
'I don't know what you're-a trying to say…' Peppino sighed, exasperated. He went to turn away, when-
'Pe-Pino.'
The voice… it was his voice, but the cadence was just slightly off. An imperfect mimicry, but close enough that it immediately fired every panic neuron in his brain at once.
'Peppinos. Pi- Za.' The fake nodded, looking pleased- then slapped one hand down on Peppino’s head, crushing his chefs hat down and drawing a yelp of surprise out of him.
'Peppino. Pi-zza.' The words sounded smoother as he rolled them around his mouth, smiling wide enough that his teeth looked as if they were about to drip out of his lips. He pushed Peppino a little closer to the oven- his heels dug into the ground instinctively. The heat was oppressive... 'Peppi-no. Pizza.'
Peppino froze. He had learnt not to run- bolting only excited his fake. He stood stock still, even as its face slowly lowered to his. His eyes widened- there wasn't anywhere else to look but into his own distorted visage, the oven's heat only causing it to drip more. Oh, god, it was dripping everywhere…
His hands balled into fists, ready to react, but his body seemed stuck. Damn his freeze instinct-! He held his breath as his fake tilted his head curiously, and then laughed. A bubbling gurgle, face practically split in two.
'Pizza. is. Peppi-no.' He said, happily. Peppino couldn't bring himself to figure out what exactly that meant, because the only idea he had right now- well, the heat wasn't helping, and his vision was blurring, and it wasn't good…
'Peppino. Pizza. Nothing. Compares!'
All of a sudden, he was pushed back. Away from the heat, a cold blast of air hitting him as the doppelganger shoved him. All at once Peppino’s body reacted, scrambling back along the floor and breathing- wheezing, really- trying to get enough air in his lungs so he didn't pass out. All the while he watched as the wax figure of himself dripped like a candle in the heat, spun on its heel happily and giggled.
'Not- yet!' It smiled, face still firmly turned to look at Peppino even as its entire body twisted 180 degrees to stick to the nearest wall- his neck creaked with the strain, more of its doughy flesh sloughing off onto the floor as he moved away from the heat.
'Cook.' It's hand found one of the open vents- it's favorite hiding spots. 'Let him. Cook. Not ready!' It smiled, eyelids squeezing shut happily over misshapen sockets, tongue lolling out the side of its mouth.
'Later? Pizza later. Nothing Compares...' He mumbled, voice softening as Peppino could only watch in wide-eyed terror as it folded itself in half to slide into the narrow vent- he'd seen it many times but he still wasn't used to it. The wet sounds of a body moving in ways it shouldn't, the scrape of the metal... As it pushed itself into the darkness, Peppino saw its face- his face- the last thing to disappear.
'Peppino. Pizza...? Soon...'
And then it was gone.
He didn't move.
Honestly, he stayed on the floor for an uncomfortably long time.
After what felt like hours, his body finally decided to return the feeling to his joints- and all at once he scrambled upright. What- what was that? He thought…
He thought he was reaching… some kind of agreement with that thing. But clearly it was still far, far beyond his understanding. And what it said- no. No, Peppino shook his head violently. He didn't want to think about it. Because if he thought about it, it sounded an awful lot like...
No. No, no, no. That was silly. He just needed to get back to work. He needed to push this out of his mind and forget it ever happened.
He stumbled over towards his pile of pizza dough. Looking down at it, he couldn't help but feel… uneasy, suddenly. A wave of strange nausea rose in his chest.
Maybe… maybe that was enough pizza for one day.
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