Fonttale
Chapter One:
Unseen and Unheard
If you make yourself a problem, someone will eventually solve you.
Papyrus repeated the phrase in his head over and over again, until the words became nonsense and the nonsense became a blur that overwhelmed any and all of his other thoughts.
Gripping the arm rest of the couch until his arm shook, he glared at the television screen; struggling to keep his breathing at a slow and steady pace and his rage under control.
Mettaton was at it again. He had a habit of taking short random intermissions between his singing and dancing to remind everyone of how great he was. A habit Papyrus was having more and more trouble tolerating as the years went by.
As Mettaton crowed and pranced around the stage like a peacock, the crowd went wild. Hands, claws, tentacles, and wings flew up into the air as the crowd roared with applause; the cheering rising to an almost deafening crescendo almost blocking out Mettaton's voice.
Almost.
Mettaton always seemed to find a way to be louder than everyone else. No matter how loud the applause, his voice was never drowned out; much to Papyrus's disappointment. After all, the most important and best part of the show was not the dancing or singing, but the self-loving speeches made between them. At least that's what everyone else thought...everyone but Papyrus.
Papyrus knew the truth. He knew exactly what Mettaton was. A pathetic and narcissistic waste of metal, magic, and life. If there was ever a time when Mettaton once cared about the music or joy of others, that time had long since passed. Now he was nothing but an attention whore to the fullest degree with no love for anyone but himself. Strutting and flirting on the stage like a common stripper, scooping up praise like it were gold.
"Disgusting," muttered Papyrus, shaking his head."Absolutely revolting."
Sighing, the young skeleton switched off the television and sat in silence for a moment in the dark.
The rage was gone, replaced with a cold despair he knew all too well, that settled in his ribcage and refused to leave.
He hated nights like this. When all was quiet and there was absolutely nothing he had to do.
The house was already clean, and his side of the fridge was already packed with inedible spaghetti to the point where storing more was impossible. The trash receptacle was already taken out and his room was spotless as always.
"I suppose I'll go see Flowey then," said Papyrus to no one.
He glanced upstairs towards San's room before heading out the door into the night air.
His brother had long since gone to his room to sleep.
Sleep well Brother...
The snow crunched under Papyrus's boots as he headed toward the mysterious door that opened for no one but him...and humans apparently.
Papyrus grinned as he remembered the human with the glasses and notebook he had met while going to meet with Flowey. It was still difficult for Papyrus to tell which humans were male and female, but he assumed that one was female due to the dress it wore and the braids it had tied with ribbons.
In monster culture, frills and ribbons were girlish things worn by small children; and striped shirts were the customary garb for the males. It was a necessary dress code for monsters due to their variety. By the time the children turned into adults, everyone knew their name and gender by heart. One pro of being a species that lived for hundreds of years he supposed.
When the human girl saw him, she had been frightened. They were all frightened, and had every right to be. He was a Horror Font after all. As a mouse is instinctually frightened of a cat, a human is frightened by a Horror.
He was impressed that she had managed to avoid dusting any Monsters. Most of the Humans he came across gathered as much EXP as possible in order to survive, but not this girl. He could tell just by looking at her that she was a kind soul, probably bullied though.
Papyrus was lucky to be the Lying Font. Had he been any other, the girl might have screamed Snowdin awake, but as it was, a single sentence was enough to silence her and stop her in her tracks.
"You are not afraid of me."
Immediately all fear left her eyes. Instantly believing him, she smiled, curtsied, and introduced herself.
Papyrus couldn't remember her name.
He did remember everything else though. How she held her notebook to her chest like the school girl she was, how her eyes twinkled with hope and happiness as he used his font to lie to her, comfort her.
"I will not hurt you."
Both of his eye sockets glowed orange as a pumpkin whenever he used his font. It was a terrifying sight when paired with his permanent smile...as long as you weren't under his spell of course. As long as they weren't a fellow skeleton, a fellow Font, they were susceptible.
"Those who hear Papyrus's lies are doomed to believe in him, and those who believe in him are bound to be betrayed."
"What's your name, Stranger?" asked the girl smiling brightly.
"My name is Papyrus; it's a pleasure to meet you," said Papyrus kissing her hand like the gentleman he tried constantly to be.
He was a killer, true, but he didn't have to be an asshole.
Not to people who didn't deserve it anyway.
Taking back her hand the girl giggled. "Well aren't you friendly?"
"I try to be. It's admittedly difficult when you're surrounded by such violent creatures."
"Tell me about it, I think every creature I've come across save for one has tried to kill me!"
"Despicable; picking on such a poor sweet child!"
"Yeah, I get bullied a lot at school too. People just don't seem to like me..."
"What a shame, you seem so kind...and polite! Do all Human girls curtsy like you?" Papyrus smiled at her, happy to have finally come across a polite and kind Human for once. He wasn't even used to seeing such politeness in the Underground from Monsters! He wasn't an old man, but he had thought people of his and the next generation had forgotten what respect was. When WAS the last time he saw a young lady curtsy? Had he ever?
She shook her head. "Nope, I think I'm the only one who curtsies anymore, or at least I'm the only one in class. Maybe that's why they make fun of me..."
"Nonsense! That's hardly a reason!" said Papyrus crossing his arms and scowling.
Unbelievable.
Making fun of someone for being respectful and polite?
Do they make fun of someone's skin color too?
So stupid...
"I'm glad you're nice at least," said the young girl sighing.
"Yes, but you know you really shouldn't talk to strangers Human."
The girl laughed. "A stranger's just a friend you haven't met!" she said waving him off.
Papyrus stared at her for a minute. "That's...an interesting philosophy..."
The young girl laughed once more.
He remembered her telling him of the surface, of her friends of whom she got separated from while collecting plant data for a school project. He remembered her showing him her notes and telling him about an "evil" flower who tried to kill her.
He remembered telling her to turn around for a moment.
He remembered bludgeoning her over the head with a bone he had conjured, he remembered her falling dead at his feet and her blood painting the snow, he remembered collecting her soul for the king, and carrying her body to the dump.
But he didn't remember feeling bad.
That girl was asking for it.