Hiya, I had this idea floating round in my head of a martial arts enthusiast reader and how they could have a rather interesting soul due to meditation and a possibly pacifist view on fighting... but then I remembered actually being a part of a university society for martial arts and how everyone was burly, friendly and huge pub-golf enthusiasts. I found the latter much more amusing and decided to write this one-shot base on it. I hope you enjoy it!
The floor thrums under your feet, shaking with the heavy, thudding base pouring from the many speakers lining the room. Constellations of bulbs line and crisscross the ceiling, flashing a multitude of colours, ranging from neon green and bright barbie pink to day-glow blue and the classic white light. You squint slightly at the bright, busting flashes as you lean further forward across the bar. You push up your felt pirate hat and ignore the tacky feeling of spilt drinks under your arms as you eye up the range of bottles behind the bar. Well, as you you try to eye them up. To be honest, it's getting a bit hard to see them now, not that this is going to stop you.
"One goldschlager and two skittle bombs please!" You order, causing the barkeep to level you an uncertain frown.
"You sure? You already had five bombs," she tuts, but shrugs as you wink at her then shift your eye patch to the other eye to wink at her again with a toothy grin.
"Hey, where'd your friends go?" she asks, as she hunts around for the right bottles, voice barely on the cusp of hearing over the music screaming out around you.
You frown slightly as the words sink in, looking around yourself in a haze as if you're just realising for the first time that you are alone; before a sluggish memory drifts through your head and hits you like a mallet, making your arms pinwheel as you enthusiastically start blabbering your way into an excited explanation.
"Ah! The freshers we got so far all gone home- poor things, not used to it all yet- and Romo has parents a commin in tomo and Daim had to get a taxi coz he kept barfing and Lucy went home with this really tall chick and Fabi-"
"Cool, here's the drinks. Get them down quick. Clubs about to close hun," the barkeep tells you, scanning your card and tossing it back to you.
You grin, lift up your fake beard and down the shots, waving her off as you turn about and shimmy onto the dance floor like a sleep deprived duck on stilts. You're dancing is only somewhat better as you attempt to slut drop and hip bump a girl who'd been trying to get past you. She's weirdly into this (and not at all put off by the fact you're dressed as a full bellied pirate) and you decide to quickly get yourself out of this unwanted duo with the age old, hitching breath and hand over your stomach and mouth trick. It works like a charm and she melts away like butter, allowing you to continue to dance like a mad man, uninterrupted in your swaying, jolting movements.
That is until the lights blare on and the music cuts out. Groans echo through the sweaty room as people everywhere either catch sight of their empty wallets, their dance partners' faces or the state of their shoes.
You too would be glaring down at your drink stained boots and grumbling at their state, ifyou were in any state to be able to see them. As it is, you just swagger out the room and down the stairs with the crowd, blinking owlishly around as you try and scold your mind into acting sober enough to hire a taxi without getting rejected.
"Heeeey-" you start, leaning into one taxi's front window.
"No."
You shrug and turn to another, rapping on the window until he rolls down the glass.
"Wazzu-"
"Notyouagain."
"Ugh!" You turn from him and eye up another one. "Excuss may my gud sir, me I-"
"You're not sicking up inmycar, idiot."
"Fiiiiiine! I'll walk you bastards!" you exclaim, making a tosser movement with your right hand and winking at a group of giggly girls, walking in the opposite direction.
Now, you know walking home by yourself is not the best idea. You're always telling people in your defense society explicitly that it is 'not the best idea', so obviously you're being the world's biggest hypocrite as you drunkenly shuffle along the busy streets. Usually you actively try to avoid situations like this, getting taxis even though you only live ten minutes away from the town center. But the night air has hit you, along with those last three shots, and the world looks so pretty in that jazzy, hazy glow of unfocused eyes.
As you walk along the emptying cobbled streets, it takes you a while to realize that the chattering sounds of the club goers has faded away into something else:
Panting, shouting, yelling.
"Hold phones," you mutter, looking down one of the alleyways on your right, eyes trailing along the overflowing dumpsters and abandoned shopping trolley, focusing just enough to see a man with something shiny in his hand, approaching two shadow-drenched figures.
"pick on my bro and you're in for a bad time. last warning buddy. f..." a gravelly voice snarls out from one of the shadows.
You blink, drunken mind sluggishly filtering through those words.
Right...
You look at the dude who's not backing off, then at the two blurry figures again.
Right.
"welp, i warned ya, so don-"
The deep voice cuts off in surprise as you slam your hands palm first on his assailant's ears, making the man drop the switchblade in his hands as he clutches at his head with a stupefied whimper. Grabbing his arms, you wrench them back and twist them up until you have them locked up his back. You then use his weight against him to slam him into a wall, stomping down on the back of his leg and dislocating his knee with an audible pop. You round the whole thing all off with a solid kick betwixt the legs and put your hands on your hips to survey your sobbing, quivering handiwork. There is only the sound of whimpering moans and a sharp in-drawn breath from inside the alley, filling the long silence as you stagger slightly and turn to check on the two strangers.
"...huh," says the shorter shadow.
"WOWIE! THAT WAS SO COOL HUMAN! ARE YOU A REAL PIRATE?!" Exclaims the other.
You look up at the source of the louder voice and grin happily, eyes crinkling and cheeks dimpling. "Heck yeah! I'm captain Blackbeard! See! I made myself a beard and everything!" You tear off your fake beard and offer it to the tall one who takes it gently. If it were lighter and if you were slightly more sober, you might notice the incredulous look you're getting from the smaller one. But it dark and you're not.
"WOW! I DIDNOTKNOW THESE WERE DETACHABLE. NICE TO MEET YOU PIRATE HUMAN. I AM THE GREAT PAPYRUS!"
You squint up at him as you take in his words and what little of his fuzzy appearance you can make out... huh... very pale skin... very thin and somehow sparkly face...You shrug it off, grinning at him one last time and putting it all down to your drunken stupor as you turn to inspect the killer cretin, who is staggering off with a screaming, jagged limp and balls firmly in hand.
"Uhhhggghhh..." you groan, shuffling after him but by the time you get there he's somehow gone. You sigh and keep walking, turning towards home and wondering if any burger places will still be open.
"uh, wait a sec there buddy."
You turn around, hazily looking down at the small dude, before grinning again.
"Heeeey," you say to him, wobbling slightly in place and trying to right yourself. You feel his eyes on you, taking in your slightly deranged appearance.
"right, uh just want to say thanks, you know, for steppin in- won't be down that shortcut again for sure- and yeah, i'd get in trouble if i went up against a human, so...i owe you one."
You look up at the sky vaguely, then down at him, then up to his brother and then back down. You shoot some finger guns at the smaller one and topple over to your right, just catching yourself before you hit the floor.
"Pretend you didn't see that," you tell them both, bringing your finger up to your mouth in a clumsy shushing motion. They turn to look at each other briefly, quickly coming to an unspoken decision.
"...uh huh, i know this sounds stupid an all, seein' as you just beat up a dude for us, but uh, should you be walkin home alone like this?"
You blink at him, focusing on his white eyes surrounded by black... huh. Oh wait, he's talking. "I what now? Soz wasn't listening, your eyes are socool."
He doesn't seem to have a response ready for this and exchanges another bewildered look with his brother, who kneels down before you and looks up at you with what you think is a kind smile. It's hard to tell, all you know is that there's a lotta teeth there and he's tilting his head like a confused puppy.
"I FEEL IT IS ONLY RIGHT THAT WE WALK YOU HOME, PIRATE BLACKBEARD, AS THANKS FOR YOUR ASSISTANCE." Your beard is put back on your face with gentle hands as he says this, and you tilt your head to the side.
"Soz dude but dunno know you twos that well so I'm not taken you with. Berides I needs some sus-sustab-sustance."
"UH, WHAT IS THAT HUMAN?"
"they want food bro."
"Yeps, I'm gonna like die with the hanging tomoz if I don-woah!" You're cut off with a yelp as the big one shifts you up onto his shoulder in one fluid motion. Which is no mean feet, you're a tall dude.
"YOU'RE NOT DYING ON MY WATCH HUMAN! I'M GOING TO MAKE YOU THE BEST, LIFE SAVING SPAGHETTI YOU WILL EVER HAVE!"
You blink from your new, higher perspective, your fight or flight reflexes slowly leaving your ridged frame as his words sink in.
"Uh, dude,Papyrooo, I'm not gonna die, I was bein sar- uh - sarha- wait I can say this-carhastic," you beam, happy in your success at enunciating. Papyrus doesn't seem to pay you much mind as he turns about and starts walking back through the alleys. There is a snort of laughter and you look down from your fireman's carry to see the smaller one following behind you. It's slightly lighter on the streets with the dim glow of the occasional street light. Your unfocused eyes can now make out the huge smile on the guy's face.
"that soundedexhausting," he tells you.
"Nuh, I'm good at speaking like," you tell him, smiling when he laughs again even if you're not sure why he's doing it.
"name's sans," he informs you, holding up a hand for you to lean down and shake.
"Blackbeard," you return happily, pumping his hand up and down, only to stop as a strange sound reaches your ears. Your ride stops and turns around.
"AHHHG! SANS! DON'T PRANK OUR PIRATE FRIEND WITH A WOOPIE CUSHION! YOU'RE EMBARRASSING ME!"
On top of Papyrus's shoulder, you find yourself laughing your arse off and pointing at Sans with tears coming off your face.
"Ah-haa-haa, where- hah- where were you h-haha-hiding that?!"
Sans shrugs at you as you start moving again but you can tell he's happy with your response. His eye lights are still trained on you cautiously but the shadows under his sockets seem less dark, less strained somehow, and more intrigued. Wait a second...
"Hold the bone! You twos are skeletons!" You suddenly shout out, voice echoing in the empty streets as you look from the skull next to you to the skull below. Sans ogles at you, mouth dropping open faintly and sweat beading down his skull.
"...you didn't reali-? i mean, that's not a pro-"
"Dudes! You should totally join my crew! We can be SKELETON PIRATES!" You exclaim, almost falling off Papyrus's back as you shoot Sans your patented double finger gun bang and waggle your eyebrows.
Papyrus has to then stop a few minutes to berate his brother for being so lazy as the smaller skeleton wheezes over his knees and chokes and splutters on his own laughter. You're feeling pretty pleased with yourself as you watch him double over and wipe away his tears. You decide to make the situation worse.
"Hey Sans, Sans, Sans- you should do it. Pirate costumes are really cool, you know why? Coz- look no stop laughing- it's- c'mon Sans!- it's- it's coz they ARRRR!"
Sans splutters out another laugh as Papyrus groans.
"NOT YOU TOO!" He moans before abruptly turning around with you bobbing happily along with him, watching as Sans finally recovers and catches up with you.
"ha-ah, you're great kid," he finally tells you. "you know what a pirates favorite letter is?"
"ARRRR!" You shout out happily.
"aye ye'd think it be r but his true love be thee c," he says, putting on a truly awful pirate accent. You vaguely feel a stitch forming in your chest but you can't find it in yourself to care as you giggle and snort like a loon.
"WE'RE HERE HUMAN- THANK THE STARS- LETS GET YOU THAT SPAGHETTI!"
You twist about on his shoulder as he opens the frosted glass door of a towering apartment complex and pounds up the stairs loudly, up to their flat. You jump and judder up and down on his shoulder, finally noticing how hard his weird, white outfit is on your stomach. Eventually Papyrus stops, gently lifting you and placing you down in the entrance of his flat. You hesitate, inhibitions distantly trying to scream for your attention in a far off corner of your mind.
"you cool with coming in? i can call you a taxi if you want" says Sans, watching you patiently as you slowly make your mind up. You turn to look at him with a small wry grin.
"...Thanks, I'll take a leap though. You guys are good."
"THANK YOU HUMAN PIRATE! SO ARE YOU!"
You grin happily up at Papyrus as he passes by you and jauntily stroll after him, looking around at your surroundings as if you would remember any of the details of it in the morning. There's a painting you think, and some furniture- obviously- and maybe that blurry black lump is a tv and- oooh! A balcony! You bounce over and look out the sliding door, grinning at the sight of the many lights of the city laid out before you.
When you finally tear your eyes away from the yellow glow of your city, Papyrus seems to be doing something in the kitchen and Sans has slumped down on the sofa. It looks ridiculously comfortable and you can't resist joining him with a groan.
"you look bone tired." he tells you, shifting softly to watch you. It takes you a moment but you get it, and promptly fall off the sofa with laughter. Puns are always better when drunk.
"You- I- uhhhh drunk puns are harrrrd!" You groan, throwing your head back on the sofa cushion and tucking your legs under the coffee table. "Wait! Got it! Beauf- uh- beauty is the in the eye of abeer-holder, hah!"
"good one kid," he humours you, staring down at you for a long moment. His eye-lights are softly glowing and his smile is wide enough to make you unconsciously smile back at him. He snorts at something, looking away for a few seconds then back again, grinning anew, and gives you one of his own jokes:
"here: a neutron walks into a bar and asks for a drink. barman puts it down and says: for you, no charge."
You grin up at him. "I don't get it."
"ehh you'll laugh when your sober, speaking of: i think my bro's done with the spaghetti."
You look around, and low and behold there's Papyrus with a plate of pasta.
"Oh god that looks good," you groan, taking it from him and shovelling it into your mouth, uncaring of the scalding heat, the odd, grainy texture or the slight gluey feeling between your teeth. You're only caring about the fact it is hot and salty andfoooooood. Sans is staring at you outright as you stuff your face and Papyrus seems to be vibrating on the spot with excitement at your enthusiasm. By the time you have cleaned your plate Sans is looking slightly worried and Papyrus is busy babbling about cooking you a second plate.
"Thanks dude!" You grin, slumping back into the sofa. Man do you feel tired. You should probably call a taxi... in a minute... Sans seems to be talking about something again but you haven't been listening, simply dazing into space with hooded eyes.
"-litter glue right? i mean i don't think humans are even able to-"
"I had a good night," you murmur to him, interrupting his arts and crafts spiel. "I beat Fabian on the waterfall round and Daim had a real go at it, the poor ligh'weight. Got the cabin crew royal-like pissed. Also got to meet you two. That douchmurderbag's stupid, why'd... why'd he...he..." your voice drifts off as your head bobs.
Vaguely you hear someone asking about your badass fighting. You smile dreamily. "S'my soc- sos- club. M' capt'n of den- def'nce. C'm ov'r 'n I'll t'ch ya..."
You think he says something about that but you've stopped listening and are gently sliding to the right, towards the carpet, only to stop as a pair of cold hands gently pick you up and lay you down.
After that, there is only sleep... and one hell of a hangover to come the next day.
I can imagine the skeletons coming along to visit your self-defense society now and meeting all your burly martial arts enthusiasts. Predictably, they all eventually fall for Papyrus's charms and he gains himself a mini army of badass human friends who, while not quite giving him a shower of kisses, will give a shower of punches to anyone who messes with him. Needless to say Sans approves.