september 3, 2013

here for the daily update on my life. not that it'll matter if this next month or so goes down its worst route.

kids finally talked to tori about leaving. can't believe she agreed to allow us the 'road trip' bit, given how suddenly this came up for her. guess that's just like us monsters, to take these things in stride. she did insist on putting together their school work for the next month. dunno if the kids'll begrudge the work, or be happy for the distraction. it'll be a lot of driving, and i'm not looking forward to that either.

we all went to talk to asgore together. as for how that went? pretty sure he's already called up blackwell, and made whatever promises he needs to just so that his son can walk in the door. it probably won't be cheap for him, but the king looked so excited to help. to do something for his son. meaning meeting him went as well as it could. asriel barely said a word the whole time.

their relationship, that being the king and his son... too complicated for me. lots of emotions there. asriel knows what his dad did while the kid was dust, and he's probably hard pressed to forgive him for it. prince loves humans, and probably always has since that first one fell. it was before my time, though.

all just speculation on my part. i hope i'll forgive me for that, if i ever read this with fresh eyes. it's pen, so i'm not erasing it. got an inkling you'll deal with it, quill you not?

papyrus was excited for me when i told him what we were doin'. y'know, with me taking an active role, trying to do something actively for someone else. doing an activity. lots of emphasis on that active word. he thinks i'm learning to not be lazy. sorry paps, just saving the world. lots of procrastinating i haven't done yet.

papyrus wanted to come along too, but this next month's going to be busy for him. he's going to be arguing for monster citizenship in america, on the grounds that even though we weren't born on american soil, we were born under it. good luck with that bro. we've agreed to call every day, if we're able, so i'll still be able to keep track of everything going on with him.

he won't be hearing about everything we're doing. just stuff about the school, how the kids like it, probably a few of my best bad jokes when i can snake them in. i'm counting on you to deliver if the kid turn back the clock. it's for the best he doesn't get more than that. not that i have ever thought he couldn't take this time stuff, he'd probably take it better than me. i just don't think i want him to.

don't alway feel sure why i'm telling me this, i know it already. unless whoever is reading this isn't me. in that case, yes frisk. i keep a journal, just for you to read.

since you're reading anyway, just a few weeks until we leave, kid. september 21, we take off. we'll be at arcadia bay between october the third and fifth, depending on how much we slack off. i hope you're ready for whatever we find when we get there, kid.


English was going to be awesome, Max thought as she walked out of the room. She wasn't sure what had possessed her to request to be moved into the AP course, but she was going to have to thank that spirit if she ever met it. Mrs Hoida seemed awesome so far, and really passionate about her subject. Of course Blackwell would have only the best teachers.

Max was admittedly a bit apprehensive about that first assignment. Seriously, a three paragraph introductory letter to the teacher? That was going to suck. Why can't I write about anything but me? Like, photos! Photographers! Movies? Books? The weather? At least she had a couple of days to do that, and it didn't seem likely that the rest of her teachers would bury her in homework on day one. It was a college level course, she could forgive that.

Max had more important things to think on now. She had her schedule in her hand as she stepped to the side of the hall. The sounds of the hallway were drowned out by her heart pounding as she reread what her next class was. 'The Language of Photography.'

Mark Jefferson's class. The class that could make or break her future.

Don't freak out, Max. You've got to get into the room, into your seat. Then you can freak out and be on time, and it will be a very punctual freak out.

She didn't need to go to her locker for anything, she was carrying all of her materials for her morning classes in her bag. Thus , all that she had to was move herself down the stairs onto the first floor, and down the hall. The whole school was two floors, and fairly compact. Given that the student base was fairly selective, they probably didn't need a whole lot of different rooms.

She had woodenly avoided her classmates in the halls, hovering closer to the lockers and walls than most would probably feel comfortable with. Finally, she could see the door, hanging open. There he was, holding the door open, and she could have screamed.

Between the glasses and the hair, Mark Jefferson already looked the part of a hipster. The suit he was wearing today, classy as all hell and even looking ironed on top of it complimented the image. He looks every part a stereotypical artist.

Don't freak out don't freak out dontfreakoutmax.

"Hello," Mr. Jefferson greeted as she stepped into the door. "You are supposed to be in the Language of Photography, right?"

AAAAAAAH

"Um, yes?" Max questioned. She shook her head and tried to reaffirm her certainty. It instead came out as, "I mean, uh, yes. I am."

Mr. Jefferson chuckled at her answer. Her declaration didn't seem to be having the desired effect. And now he knows I'm a loser.

"Well, at least someone's early. Brought your camera, or maybe a phone?" He asked next.

"Of course," Max answered, patting the bag hanging from her side. "I always have my camera on me."

Except that time last night where she did not have her camera. How unarmed it had made her feel, like she was missing a part of her being. She had double checked, then triple checked to make sure she had it in her bag this morning when she got up. And what a rough awakening it had been, giving how late she'd been up. At least most of her things were out of their boxes, though she doubted her dorm mates felt so happy about the noise.

Her answer seemed to satisfy Mr. Jefferson, who smiled at her answer this time.

"That's a good habit to have for a photographer. The world doesn't wait for you to run home to grab it." He quirked his brow curiously. "I assume that's why you're here, isn't it? Miss...?"

"Max. Caulfield," she answered. "And yes. I've loved taking pictures since forever. I can't see myself doing anything else."

His lips twitched upwards once again, and Max could have died. How is he so perfect?

"Well, now you've got me excited, Max. I'll see you inside. Sit wherever you want, there's no assigned seating," he said, ushering her at last into his classroom.

Okay Max, somehow you didn't explode. Her pulse was elevated to the point of reverberating in her skull, and breathing was predictably a manually controlled mess right now. At least she could let herself breath now that the most immediately scary part of her day was past.

Jefferson's classroom wasn't quite what she was used to. In the place of desks were tables, arranged in a circle around an open center. Perfect place for a campfire, if someone wanted to go crazy. The blackboard was largely blank right now, except for a brief 'Welcome to Language of Photography!' greeting, followed by Mark Jefferson's signature.

She walked to the back of the room and looked upon the billboards. Jefferson's legacy. Magazine covers, commissions, and shots that he just liked. That one there was the cover of Pop Vine, asking in large text "IS GRUNGE DEAD?" and boasting of holding shots from Jefferson himself. It was only the cover, so it was with a heavy heart Max had to acknowledge she wouldn't find the contents without the magazine itself. Maybe he has an extra copy lying around, and would let me borrow it if I asked. Or she could just look them up on the Internet, like anyone else would do. That seemed like a safe option.

Max took a seat next to the boards, placing her bag on the floor next to her. Sitting there meant that she could look at them anytime. It also gave her an overview of the entire classroom, which was going to be very helpful. Somehow, the position also made her feel powerful. Bow before your Queen, plebeians.

The others started to filter into the room after her, a solid half-minute later. Was I really that early, or did everyone else get lost? A Hispanic-looking boy was the first one in, followed by a couple of girls. One had black hair with awesome looking purple highlights. In general, she had a sort of gothic look about her, finished by the cross around her neck. The other girl wore a green hoodie and glasses, and had her hair tied up in a ponytail.

The next girl to enter was a familiar face. She stepped into the room a bit cautiously, her blouse looking a bit too warm for the weather. She seemed just as overwhelmed by the room she found herself in as Max did.

"Hey Kate," Max said as she recognized the girl. This got her attention, and Kate's lips tugged the slightest bit upwards. She moved towards Max's seat with a bit more certainty than she'd entered the room with.

"Hey... Max, right?" She asked.

"Yeah. You want to...?" Max left her question unfinished, letting her vague gesture beside her fill in the blank. This revealed a problem. There wasn't actually another chair at the table. "Uh... Slide a chair over?"

The distinct lack of chair seemed to disappoint Kate, who shook her head. "I'll be fine, Max. I mean, more room to work with if there's only one of at a table, right?" Kate offered a smile before taking a seat at the next table over to the right of her, sitting on the opposite side of the computer that share the table.

Barring Jefferson himself, only three more people filtered into the room. The guy has darker skin, and looked incredibly relaxed as he stepped into the room. Or incredibly stoned... Yep. I saw enough of that in Seattle to recognize someone who's blazed when I see them.

The last two stood out the most. Actually the reason was pretty clear. The one girl, her hair a blonde mass that stretched down her back, didn't really leave much of an impression. The other girl however...

That cashmere is probably more expensive than everything in my entire closet. Including the closet.

Short blonde hair, brushed to precision, the perfect shade of eyeliner, the remarked upon purple and impressive cashmere, the not entirely modest skirt... This girl looked loaded. Evidentially, Max must have been staring. As soon as this girl noticed her, she looked her up and down and scoffed.

Okay, what I was doing wasn't especially cool either, but really? Max turned to admire the window intently for the briefest of moments. The rich girl and her accomplice sat at the same table, just to Max's left.

And then Mark Jefferson walked in.

"Okay class, put away your phones, shut down your conversations and take your seats."

There was a shuffle of activity as Max moved to follow the teacher's command. Out of her bag came the essentials. Her camera, of course, her notebook, a pencil bag. After a brief moment's consideration, her journal came out too. It seemed right having it out. Worst came to worst, she could doodle in the empty margins.

"Now, before we begin properly, I'm supposed to try and learn your names. And take attendance, to make sure you've actually shown up," Mr. Jefferson continued, heading to his own desk in the front corner of the room. He picked up a clipboard and then stepped up to the center of the room.

"Alyssa?" He started.

"Here," the gothic looking girl answered. Jefferson marked something down on the sheet.

"Daniel?"

"Here," the Hispanic boy said. That was when the jitters hit Max, like suddenly this was the most important thing in her life.

Oh good. The anxiety of taking attendance.

"Hayden?"

"Hey," The stoned dude by the door answered. Another check on the attendance sheet.

"Kate?"

"Present," Kate said. She was marked down.

Heh. Marked down. Maximal Punnage. It didn't calm her nerves.

"Maxine?" He had already been looking at her when her name came up.

"Here," she answered quickly. Maybe a bit oddly too. "I... Uh, prefer Max." Still, she felt the entire planet roll off her shoulder onto the floor and once more her respiratory system returned to functionality. Jefferson nodded, and continued down the list.

"Stella?"

"Here." Girl with the hoody and ponytail.

"Taylor?"

"Here," the girl with the longer blonde hair answered.

"And, last but not least, Victoria?" He looked at the last girl inquisitively.

"Right here, Jefferson," she answered with a raise of her hand and a sickly-sweet lilt in her voice. Oh god, what even is she doing?

Jefferson took the introduction in stride, and marked her as present. He placed the clipboard back on his desk and took his place in the middle of the gathering of tables. He sat on the corner of Daniel's table, and clapped his hands together.

"That's everyone then," he was saying all the while. "Good start, no one's playing hooky on day one. Yes, I know, who would do such a thing? The answer to that question is 'enough that I need to take attendance every day.' So get here on time every day."

Max chuckled uncomfortably, though a few other people seemed amused by it too. That Victoria girl, for one.

"Anyway, welcome to the Language of Photography," The teacher continued. "If you don't know me, my name is Mark Jefferson. Mr. Jefferson will do for you." He leaned forward a bit. "I was raised here in Arcadia Bay, and moved away after high school to the East Coast. I attended the American Academy of Art in Chicago in the nineties as a photography major, and managed to take a few shots that apparently, people liked. I worked for years as a professional for several publications, and went on to publish my own books a few years back. I've been back here in Arcadia Bay for three years now as a teacher, and thus... Here I am."

Max knew all of this. She had read up on him a few years ago, after reading his name in a book of famous photographers. Imagine her shock, seeing her hometown in a book about famous people? She hadn't heard of him before. Even in Seattle, she'd still held an attachment to this little town, and so her natural inclination had been to learn everything she could. She hadn't stopped following news on him since.

That was why, when she read that Jefferson had started teaching, Blackwell had become her number one priority. A dream, just like Seattle had been as a child. And now she was living her dream all over again. Hopefully, this one lives up to my expectations.

It was a solid start so far.

"Don't worry, none of you need to get up here and introduce yourselves the same way. I hated that in school too. We've got all year to get to know each other." Jefferson pushed himself off the table and stood over them all, a god among men. What's a Queen to a God? "So, let's begin. Who here can explain what an image is?"

There was a silence as Jefferson stepped in a circle looking for anyone to answer.

Then Victoria's hand shot up.

"Yes, Victoria?" Jefferson asked.

"An image is a single frame that is captured in some way, by our eyes, our memory, or a painting, among other things," she answered. It sounded rehearsed, and like utter bull.

It seemed to impress Jefferson though, who smiled at the answer. "Very good answer. Almost like I've read it before. It looks like someone has already started their reading, which is impressive since I haven't handed out the book yet." He laid his hand into the table. "Follow-up question: what is a photograph?"

"An image specifically captured using, say, a camera, or a phone and printed out," Victoria answered again, much quicker this time. Kiss ass. Jefferson shook his head in amusement.

"Alright, Victoria. You've proven you can read. I want to see if anyone here can think," Jefferson said. Victoria leaned back in her chair, seemingly torn between being smug at being right and being pretty much banned from answering the next question. "Who here can tell me what it takes to make a good photograph?"

Not wanting to shown up Max actually did have an answer for that, and her hand went up. She wracked her mind for the right idea, and latched onto it as soon as she was called. "The emotional contents of the image. Maybe helped by a few lighting tricks."

Jefferson raised a brow, crossed his arms and leaned back a bit curiously. Did I say something wrong?

"That sounds like only part of a definition, Max. Don't keep me in suspense, what's the rest?" His prompting seemed to have the whole room staring at her. I'd have rather been absolutely wrong.

"It, uh... Depends on what you want to capture? Like, um, beauty? City life? A crisis? A day in someone's life? If you don't accomplish that, then all the lighting and technique in the world won't make your image stand out. In the words of Andreas Feineger, 'A technically perfect photograph can be the world's most boring picture'," Max answered, citing one of her secret favorites. Lots of bullshit, all spewing out of her mouth at a whim. She suddenly didn't feel too great, as the silence stretched out longer and longer as Jefferson and her classmates considered her answer.

One eternity later, Jefferson smiled.

"An interesting take on it. I suppose I could agree, to an extent," he said. Max blinked twice. Wait really? "That still doesn't feel like a full answer, so perhaps we could get some help filling in the blanks. Alyssa, if you could capture any concept in a photo, what would your first choice be?"

"Um... growing up?" The girl hazarded.

"And, saying we were to capture it in a single picture, what would you want the picture to be of?"

Alyssa leaned back in her seat and thought about it. "A teenager's room."

Jefferson nodded at this answer.

"How about you, Hayden? How would you depict the idea of growing up?"

"Uh, well... How about a younger man's diploma?"

"A more literal sign of progress. And you, Kate? How would you do it?"

"A child just after their baptism," she said without hesitation. Though after a hesitant pause, she added, "Or an older person, alongside an old toy they used to love."

"A rise of passage, or a show of how little we truly grow up. I like it. Daniel?"

Jefferson went around to each and every person in the room, asking each person what they would take a picture of. Daniel would take a picture of two sketches, drawn years apart with years of practice between them. Taylor, the top of her dresser. Stella thought up a photo of her folder at home, filled with every report card she'd received since she was in elementary school.

"Victoria?"

"Well, a girl's first car, or her first date."

Jefferson nodded. "And now back to you Max. By your own definition, how would you define growing up in a picture?"

Max leaned back in her chair and thought about it. The answer seemed obvious. But, was it really right to give that answer without Chloe's permission? It was kind of personal. Her dilemma must have seeped into her face, since concern slipped onto Jefferson's face. Fuck it.

"A friend of mine and I kept track of our heights, who was growing taller and when. Her dad used to scratch it into the wall in her room. So, I'd take a picture of that," she answered. Jefferson nodded again. In a weird way, she still felt like she'd just told everyone too much about herself.

"That's everybody right? Well, I can't pick a favorite answer. You're all right," Jefferson announced. "Objectively there is no true right answer. And there lies what I'm trying to get through, and likely what Max had meant. When someone looks at a photo, they need to be able to invest in it somehow. Whether it's just family looking back on a memory, or an idea being pushed, if your photo, your image conveys something it's a success. The better it does so, whether it's a strong reaction in a few or a lesser reaction in the many depends on why the picture was being taken in the first place."

"To be able to do that, you need all the tools possible, whether literal or technical. In spite of Feineger's insight brought to us by Max, technique does help. And that, ladies and gentlemen, is why you will be sitting in here listening to this old hipster ramble for the next nine months."

From there, Jefferson gave them a run down of how the course was going to go for at least that semester. He'd passed out a syllabus, which included his grading style and a schedule for how the winter semester was going to go. The bell rang too soon, and it was hesitantly that they all filed out of the room for lunch. Not without him assigning reading and passing out the book itself, first. Sigh.

She was curious how Victoria already had the book, though. She had refused one at the end of class, waving around a tablet of sorts. Did she buy it ahead of time?

"See you tomorrow, Max. Good answers in class today," he'd told her as she walked of the room. Her heart was a flutter, and she forgot for a moment her distaste in sharing something so personal with strangers. But only a moment.

"'Good answer, Max,'" Victoria mocked from behind her in the hall. She left no hint of the sweetness she had in her voice for Mr. Jefferson. Max frowned, as she could feel just how fruitful this next conversation was going to be. Oh good. Guess even here there's going to be drama and bullshit. "Honestly, though. He wasn't impressed in the slightest. He just felt bad."

"Do we have a problem?" Max asked, trying to keep her voice neutral. It didn't work, but by damn did she try.

"Um, yeah. I do actually," Victoria said acidly. She didn't say anything immediately after that, feeling content to speed up to cut off Max. She tried to step around to find the other blonde girl from class, Taylor, was blocking her there too. Together the two girls backed her up against a locker. Victoria adopted a proud, smile then, standing tall over Max.

"Let me lay down a bit of reality for you, 'Max.' First off, that look is awful in every sad hipster way. You stand out in the worst way. Second-" Victoria's stance changed, as she leaned in closer and got inches away from Max's face. Here comes the actual 'problem' "you're not going to keep Jefferson's attention forever. He's going to realize you're just another cliche as soon as he sees our first photos. He's going to see that I'm not. So you can crawl back to your dorm now, and pack. Save yourself the time and heartbreak."

And with that, Victoria smiled, and waved for her crony to follow her down the hall.

What the fuck was that for?

"Max, are you okay?" An approaching voice asked, accompanied by footsteps. Max turned towards the voice, and saw Kate approaching her.

"Yeah, I'm fine," Max answered. "I think I just got attacked, but I have no idea."

"How awful," Kate said in earnest. "She sounded angry, from what little I caught."

Max shook her head. "I don't know. I appreciate the concern though. Are you heading to lunch now?"

With something almost approaching a smile, Kate nodded. Good, backup. In case drama decides to corner me again.

"I left my lunch in my locker, so I'll need to stop there first," Kate said. Max nodded.

"Same. I'll find you in the Cafeteria," Max told the girl. Right now, having a bit of time to stew sounded like what she needed. And the day had been going so well, too.


September 3rd, 2013

Blackwell sucks ass! I told myself not to whine so soon, but damn... The day started like Christmas morning. I barely had any dreams, partly because of sugar induced insomnia and partly because I was so pumped to start my first official day of my new life. Like a dork I couldn't figure out what to wear, so I chose what was on the floor. I'm normally awful with names, but I did manage to retain a few new ones over the day. Brooke, Alyssa... Taylor...

And here's where I write in the sigh. How could I forget about Victoria Chase? Rich, stylish, entitled. I could feel INSTANT JUDGEMENT when she looked at my raggedy ass clothes. As if I'm at Blackwell to strike fashion poses... Maybe I'm being extra crispy sensitive, but I think Victoria wants life here to be like her own reality show. She already fabricated drama with me, and I don't foresee her getting any easier to deal with.

So that wasn't fun along with my general social unease... I thought it would be easier being back. Call the waaahmbulance! I don't want this day to end all "Woe is Max". It was incredible to walk across the green campus in the morning mist. I love the stony steps and brick walls of Blackwell. It's so atmospheric in isolation. Everything is a picture waiting to be taken... Speaking of, at least on great thing did happen today: Mr. Jefferson's photography class. Sigh...

There's more to tell but journal, forgive me, I'm truly wiped out.

September 4th, 2013

I have an assload of homework already. So much bullshit. At least give us noobs a day to acclimate. But, to prove I'm not a total loser, I made a new friend in my science class. His name is Warren Graham and he's a serious geek, plus he's dark and witty.

He comes across as kind of a know-it-all, but it turns out he does kind of know a lot. We talked about photographers, and he actually named a few I'd never heard of. We traded numbers and he'll be a good study partner (or a good friend). I'll need at least one based on the clique action here. I thought being 18 meant I didn't have to deal with this teenage drama anymore. I THOUGHT.

At least I get to research famous photographers for some of my homework. Mr. Jefferson assigned us a ton of reading, but this is exactly what I want to study. Jefferson is supercool and superchill.

He doesn't try to be too hop, just says what he thinks and expects us too as well. I think he's a genius. OMG I WANT TO MARRY HIM. Just joking. This one class is worth all of the social dysfunction.

September 15, 2013

Homework is kicking my ass. I bet the teachers grade harder just to stop you from feeling special. But Victoria Chase and her snob minions still front like they're honored guests of Blackell. The bros here aren't any different. Nathan Prescott is Victoria's male clone, with way more money and attitude, if that's possible.

His family is the oldest in Arcadia Bay and I heard stories about them when I was a kid. The Prescotts give a shitload of bank to Blackwell, so Nathan acts like he literally owns the school. The other day during class, he put his feet on the desk, started texting and the teacher didn't say jack!

I'd get suspended. But him and Victoria are part of this silly elite "Vortex Club" that puts on popular parties and so they get their way. It's good to be king and queen.

I guess I could be called one of the lucky ones. Victoria only notices me because we're both in Mr. Jefferson's class, and we're just across the hall from each other in the dorms. She's just been passive aggression and rude comments. Nathan, on the other hand...

Is it bad to be happy that I'm too 'lowly' for him to deign to notice me? I heard that Hayden and him cornered Daniel because Nathan didn't like how Daniel's sketch of him came out. You knew who you were commissioning to sketch you dude. With how good I know Daniel is, it's safe to say that's just how you look naturally Nathan. No I'm not sorry. Daniel doesn't deserve that, especially not from an ass like Nathan.

I swear he has creeped me out since I first saw him, before I even knew his name.

I shouldn't act so angry like this. It's like everything I've written since the school year started has been about this sucking or that.. And not everyone here is awful. Kate Marsh, who I met on my first night here, is pretty cool. She's down the hall from me, and in my photography class. She's so pretty and sweet and friendly. It makes her more beautiful than the beeatches here like Victoria who think beauty is just your face and outfit. Those are only multipliers.

Okay, enough Max. Don't play their games.


The bell rang too soon, just as it felt like it always did in Mr. Jefferson's class. With a clap of the hands, Mr. Jefferson started his goodbyes.

"Alright, remember to finish the reading before Friday, because there will be a quiz. And once again, you have two weeks to enter the Everyday Heroes competition. The pictures are due on in two weeks on Wednesday, October 10th. The winner gets to join me in San Francisco where their picture will be on display alongside winners from across the country. So get to work, this could be the start to your careers."

Yeah, no pressure. Max picked up her school possessions and stuffed them into her bag, starting with her notebook and ending with her camera. Everything clear, she lifted the bag over her shoulder and let it rest against her side. The only other student still in the room was, of course, Victoria.

"So, Mr. Jefferson, any suggestions on what to shoot?" She'd asked with a flirtatious lilt. She was leaning against the teacher's desk at the front of the room, her heel kicked off the ground.

"Your very best shot, Victoria, and nothing less," he answered plainly, looking back down at his paperwork. Go Jefferson! With a huff, Victoria left the room. Max made to follow her out the door. "I trust you intend to enter too, Max."

Startled, Max nearly walked right into the T.V. by the door. She spun around to find Jefferson looking up at her inquisitively.

"Uh, yeah. Of course," she muttered in return. She unconsciously grabbed her arm, a nervous tick she barely registered.

"Good. It is why you're here. Having seen a few of your other shots, I know you'll think of something good." With the that, he returned to his work.

After a moment of staring at Jefferson dumbly, Max turned out the door into the bustle of the hallway. That was nice of him. I probably wouldn't have even considered it. Not that she shouldn't, but she knew how she got. Nervous and stressed, which would make her procrastinate, which would make her further unnerved and further stressed. It began a viscous cycle that ended with nothing at all getting accomplished.

"Maximus Prime!" A familiar voice called across the hall. She turned to face the speaker, knowing only one person would address her in such a way. Or period, without some backhanded insult. Thats not fair. There's Kate, and Dana isn't bad either. Juliet, too, depending on the day. The skater guys... His unkempt brown hair was the first thing to appear from the crowd of the halls. "What's up?"

"Too much for one Transformer, Warren," she answered glumly. "Homework was one thing, but now Jefferson wants us to enter a competition."

"Oh? That sounds like something you should tell me about," Warren told her. They started down the hallway towards the front door of the building. Max didn't need to go to her locker. She had stopped going there at all after the first week except to hide/retrieve her lunch.

"He's calling it the 'Everyday Heroes' competition," Max began. "Apparently, other schools around the country are all doing it, and all the winners will be flown to San Francisco to have their picture shown off."

Warren whistled. "That sounds awesome. I mean, that's what you'd wanted, right?"

"Well, yeah..." Max sighed.

"I'm smelling a but," Warren said in a joking manner. In spite of his tone, Max knew that she had his full attention.

"But now it's real, and that's terrifying," Max turned her head to Warren. "I haven't even gotten any pictures around the campus yet, and now I have to try and jumpstart my career on a whim."

Warren nodded, and patted her back gently. Damn if you aren't trying, Warren. "That sounds stressful. I know you'll think of something though. If there's anything I can do to help..."

"Know any way to stop time for me so I don't have to worry about it for a while?" Max tried. With an overblown frown, Warren shook his head.

"Not really. I could slow down time for just you if we had a rocket ship, but that wouldn't do a thing for extending your grounded deadlines," Warren looked dramatically to the horizon. It was kind of impressive he even managed to get that across, considering they were still in the hallway.

They turned out the main entrance of the main school building. The grounds were littered with students, as per usual just after classes ended for the day. Max saw Brooke, the girl with red and blue highlights in her hair, reading some sort of catalog. The skater guys were by the edge of the lawn, grinding on the edges of a bench and doing some 'rad' tricks. The one guy, Justin, spun his board around after kicking off of the bench and drifted backwards blindly for a moment. I could never pull that off. I'd fall on my face.

Max and Warren stepped down the small flight of stairs, and around the edge of the fountain.

"I need to drop off my stuff at my room. I think I actually have some time later, if you want to help me with Ms. Grants homework." It was a more desperate plea than Max let on. Warren for his part sighed.

"Alas, fair maiden, I cannot," he had the most apologetic of smiles. "I've got a family call to look forward to, and I'm not about to miss a call from the family. The homework isn't due for a couple more days, so how does tomorrow sound?"

Max sighed. "Fair enough, Warren."

They silently passed into the dormitory grounds. Zachary and Logan were passing their football back and forth in relative silence, a common sight on the grounds. Alyssa set her school things beside her on a bench, and was pulling some book from her bag. Otherwise, the dormitory's yard was quiet. Oh, sorry. 'Prescott Hall.' Because of course it's not enough that they practically own the damn school, they need their name on the place I sleep.

They stepped inside the front door, where the building was split practically down the center. A divide between the girls' and boys' dorm halls.

"I'll see you around, Max," Warren waved, still visibly sorry. He started heading towards the boys rooms.

"Cya Warren," Max returned, moving towards her own hall.

Truly alone, Max decided to revel in the solitude. She pushed her back against the nearest wall and pulled out her earbuds. With the tap of a button, her music was begun. Syd Matters, nice pick shuffle.

With the sound of guitar playing in her ear, Max pushed in the door and started up the steps. Her room was on the second floor. Below her room would be the kitchen, which was a mildly inconvenient trek when she got the munchies. She did have a decent view of the yard, though the sight of the rest of Blackwell was blocked by the L shape of the girls rooms. She passed Dana and Juliet on the steps, and acknowledged them with a nod.

No one was in the hallway ahead of her. She made it to her room at the end of the hall, and pushed the door open. No one bothered to lock their doors anymore. It was a bit of a girl code thing that most of their hall had adopted, even when they hated each other. No one was going to say no in case of an emergency, and if shit really hit the fan for someone, everyone's door was open to them. That was the theory, at least. Thanks for that idea, Dana. I hope it won't become necessary.

Stepping into her room, Max immediately marched to the opposite side of the room and laid her bag on the desk. With nothing but her thoughts left, Max stepped back, and sat down on the edge of her bed.

Her room was no longer a mess of boxes. Truly, it hadn't been since that first sleepless night. Except for her desk, it couldn't even qualify as a mess. She had a few magazines covering her side table, and schoolwork on her desk, but otherwise her room looked tidy. Even my bed beneath me is made. Or was before I fell onto it. She had old photos hung up on the wall next to her desk. Pictures of her friends from Seattle, pictures with her parents. Only one picture in the room was framed. One that sat on the dresser at the foot of her bed.

When the hell will you get the stomach to just call her, Max.

Her room had become her sanctuary at the end of every day, a place to hide away for a while. Her guitar leaned against the couch invitingly, begging her to play along to the song in her ear. By the window was the plant Mom had left to her care. Just water it once every couple of days. When was the last time I did that?

Max turned off her music, and laid back on her bed for a moment. The wall beside her was blank. She had been hoping to cover it in photographs, but she hadn't taken any yet. None with friends, no scenery, not even a good moment that she was only baring witness to.

Nothing I could just pawn off as my best and turn in for the contest. I can't even be lazy right.

The light outside her window wasn't going anywhere fast. Birds were still singing out there. Without Warren to save her from her science, she was at a loss for what to do. She could do the reading for Jefferson's class, but he'd just recap most of it in a couple of weeks time. It'd be easier to skim the chapters after that, since he didn't do pop quizzes. The first test was still a couple of weeks away.

It is a pretty nice day out. I'm not doing homework. Why am I in bed?

Hadn't she just been thinking about having not taken any photo-walks around campus? Max pulled herself to a sit, and practically threw herself at her bag. She emptied her actually school supplies onto her desk, leaving only her journal, her camera, and a few essentials in the bag. She nearly took off out the door in that instant, but she caught her own face in the mirror. As good a start as any.

She pulled her camera from her bag, held in up to her eye. The lighting wasn't perfect, but it was an impromptu shot. Once Max had herself centered in the frame, she took the photo. No flash, not for a mirror shot. The photo slid out, and Max took it. She gave it a quick shake before seeing how it came out.

I look just like an awkward teenage girl, taking a selfie with a camera bigger than my face.

You really shouldn't hide your face next time... Takes away that emotional investment we talked about on day one. Makes you seem soulless.

It didn't seem worth trying again then and there though, she had an entire Blackwell to take photos of. With a smile on her face, Max left her room with camera in hand.


"Uh, Enjoy your stay, mister... Um, the Skeleton?"

"thanks, i intend to," Sans answered, much to Frisk's amusement. It was the family name, Frisk knew, but it was still funny. Humans had not been taking to monsters as easily as monsters did humans, but stuff like this was harmless. Funny, even.

It hadn't really escalated into anything especially bad anywhere, as far as Frisk knew. Not that there was a lot of opportunity, given that all the monsters outside of Ebott had too much media attention on them for anyone to get away with a ruckus near them. The ones inside it were all under government protection. That upset a lot of anti-change people, but they'd change their tune when the monster's gold reached them. Money does that to people.

That line of thought led him to glance at Asriel as he reconsidered it. There are a lot of Floweys out here, isn't that what you'd said?

A sobering thought. Frisk disliked those. And it was entirely his own, too.

I had thought us past this finger pointing.

With the a sigh, Frisk had to agree. Chara wasn't the cause of his thoughts, or his problems. Chara couldn't even manage to be the cause of most of them.

It has never been my intent to be a burden.

The inn they were staying at was a bit small and pretty run down looking, but Frisk kind of liked it. It had two floors, with the second floor connected by a balcony. There were scratches and cracks in the wood, and even a few glass shards in the parking lot. If they had arrived a few weeks earlier, the pool might have even been open. It probably wouldn't have been especially clean, but it would have been open. But alas, the ides of September were a couple days past, and with it the changing of the season was kicking in. Not by a lot, thanks to this 'Climate Change' thing that Mom had started reading on recently.

She had been astonished by the Summer weather, and demanded to know the cause. The internet was still hard for her, as she never even had the chance to experience the Undernet, but she was certainly up to the learning curve.

Their room was on the bottom floor, near the end. As far as humanly possible from where we parked, of course. The room itself was small, only having two beds for the three of them to share. It didn't have a tv, but there was a tiny fridge.

"think i saw an ice machine out there," Sans said as he threw his bag onto the closer bed. "get the bed situation sorted out, i'll be back in a minute or twenty."

Just as quickly, Sans disappeared out the door. Frisk and Asriel watched him go, and then turned to each other. Asriel held an unspoken plea on his face, just like he had had the past two days when they stopped for the night. The last two stops had been a lot nicer, though.

"Where do you want me?" Frisk asked, knowing what was coming, Asriel smiled, and stepped around him to take in the room.

"Hm... The place is a bit dirty. We've done relaxing on the bed before, too," the Prince put his hand to his chin and surveyed the room.

"How about one with both of us this time?" Frisk suggested, hoping onto the side of the far bed. "You set a timer, and hop on the bed next to me."

Asriel took in this idea. He seemed conflicted. Frisk shook his head.

"Just do it, Asriel. You'll be happy to have the picture, someday," Frisk patted the bed beside him. Asriel let out a sigh, and smiled up at him. He started to fiddle with the camera, before setting it down on the opposite bed facing them.

Leave a spot for me. I will make Asriel's favorite face.

Chara, I wish we could. There is a problem with that, though.

Not being classified as a physical entity has yet to stop Napstablook's face from appearing in the tabloids.

And he's better at answering my calls than you, even though you live in my head. It's different and you know it.

The emotional equivalent of a shrug edged onto Frisk's being as the picture was taken. The prince jumped off the bed as the photo slid out of the front of the camera, where the prince grabbed it. Frisk looked over Asriel's shoulder to see the picture. Look. It seems I have made it into the photo anyway. There is my addition.

Asriel looked as happy as could be, in the forced sort of sense that most people are for a photo. He truly looked like a dork in that sweater, but the trail had gotten surprisingly cold today, and his natural coat wasn't doing enough for him. Maybe if it gets colder, we can get him back in that scarf!

An unlikely happenstance.

Memory of the weather reports passes through your mind. All sunny or cloudy until the Rockies. Likely warm again once you descend. The memory is just as dull as the first time you went through the reports.

Frisk, on the other hand, showed a hint of his exchange with Chara on his face. His smile looked forced, even for a photo. His eyes were averted to the empty space beside him, and he looked sad.

"Um... Frisk?" Asriel was looking at him, concern evident in his bright eyes. "Are you okay?"

Frisk smiled regretfully. "Sorry, my thoughts went elsewhere."

"I see," Asriel looked back at the picture, not seeing more than just the two of them. "We can take it again, if you want."

Always so accommodating. Time has not taken that from you brother.

Frisk nodded. "I'd like that."

Asriel set the timer, set down the camera and jumped back onto the bed for take two.

Happy thoughts, Frisk. Chara, think about chocolate!

Chocolate?

Perhaps Frisk and Chara combined had thought too many happy thoughts. Asriel had jumped off the bed to fetch the new picture with more apprehension than the first time. He cautiously peeked down at the photo. It was quite dramatic, and unnecessary. Or maybe it wasn't, as Asriel snorted as soon as he looked at the picture.

"Okay Frisk, you've got me." Asriel flicked the photo through his fingers and stretched it towards Frisk between his middle and pointer fingers. Frisk took it in his hands and laughed himself. His smile was big and goofy, closer resembling a crazed child than a kid happy to be in a picture. He had honestly meant to aim for the latter, but this was kind of funny.

Chara managed to impress the sound of a huff into Frisk's thoughts.

All thanks to you, partner.

Do not. Tease me. Like that.

Worth it.

"so, the camera's got that bed, and you two have the other?" Sans pushed out the bathroom door, a bag of ice around in his hand. He dropped it onto the floor next to the mini-fridge. "that leaves me with the bathroom then. not something a lot of people would be happy with."

"Sorry, Sans!" Asriel sputtered out, grabbing his camera off the other bed.

"you sure? i could do it. so long as neither of you get nature's call in the night." Sans kicked off his slippers and sat at the edge of the opposite bed. "she never warns you when she'll come-a knock-knocking." Sans winked. "course, she has nothing on my knock-knock jokes."

"I don't know, Sans," Frisk kicked his own shoes off and laid back in the bed. "I think Mother Nature has some great jokes. Maybe even a couple that beat yours."

"you sure about that?" Sans asked curiously. "you know me, right? i would like to hear one of these jokes."

"The platypus." Frisk answered. Sans let out a chuckle, and even Asriel laughed a tiny bit.

Fair play.


The page has ketchup stains along the margins, but is still somehow perfectly legible.

october 1st, 2013

well. i uh... guess daily was a generous goal from the start. 'specially since i'm driving and all.

stopping by crater lake tomorrow as our last big stop before we reach our destination. asriel read on the road that there's some old tree in the water that's been bobbing up in down for a century. 'the old man of the lake' or something like that. very spiritual stuff. i would say he probably doesn't get a lot of visitors, but even i had heard of this place before we'd planned on the trip. so there goes that joke.

the only other landmark that really impressed the kids was that gateway arch in st. louis. prince got a good picture of me holding the thing up. all this nothing exceeding has me in really good shape. i should think about slowing down before i'm outdoing undyne.

we haven't come up with much in the way of a plan yet, other than tour the school and such. called up Muffet a few days ago and told her we were gonna be in town. heh, she offered to host us for a couple of days whilst we explore the town. frisk was a bit disappointed when I refused. not sure why, he and muffet never really came across as close. then again, this kid makes a show of loving all of us monsters.

i wonder if she still had that pet of hers. does she walk that thing? seeing that would would really take the (cup)cake.

In the corner of the page are is a sketch of what might be eyes. One is just a line, with large eyelashes and a twinkle coming off it. The other is a circle, shaded in entirely but for a smaller white circle. Despite the effeminate lashes, it is obviously Sans.


Max had known something was off the moment she walked in the main doors of the building. Principal Wells was standing guard at his office, talking to a familiar few sets of eyes. The monster's eyes followed Max as she turned the corner, and Max could barely muster a wave. When was the last time I even thought about the literal monsters? I've been so busy trying to survive the figurative ones.

Every one of the staff also seemed to have some air of tension in them. While that was nothing new for the security chief, David(?). Even the janitor Sam, with all of his tender care and social awkwardness seemed odder than normal. He hadn't been feeding the squirrels when Max left the dorms that morning. And no one in the student body knew why it was.

"I bet it has something to do with that monster that was talking to Principal Wells earlier," Warren had extrapolated during lunch. Max had nodded skeptically.

"What if it's about Mrs. Hoida's absence?" She had hazarded. Warren had shrugged.

"Maybe."

Kate hadn't known either. She seemed excited and nervous all on her own, which didn't do anything to help Max's own state. When she'd tried to ask what had Kate acting up, she found herself thoroughly stonewalled. It didn't seem very much like Kate, but at a certain point even Max had to acknowledge it wasn't her business. Even if it should all be my business.

Jefferson hadn't been waiting at the door of his room like he normally did. He had taken his seat at the front desk and spun his pen around between his fingers. Something is definitely up.

She had been the first one in his room as normal. There was something upsetting about not having Jefferson greet her at the door as he normally did with all of her classmates. The reminder about the Everyday Heroes competition on the board added to her nerves.

Everyone else filtered into the room, ending with Victoria and Taylor's groupie saunter. Ending with an overblown flip of the hair once the rich bitch herself reached her seat. One that Jefferson was too distracted too notice.

A phone buzzed at the front of the room, and Mr. Jefferson picked it up in an instant. He looked almost relieved as he pocketed the phone and pushed himself to his feet.

"Alright. I know what you're all thinking. Good news is, Principal Wells just gave us all the go ahead to tell you what's been going on," Mr. Jefferson said. "Last night, the faculty of Blackwell were all called and told we were going to be hosting a prestigious couple of guests starting on Monday."

Max blinked. Well that's short notice. No wonder the faculty looks so stressed. And Mrs Hoida's out for it, too...

Already Max could see the daydreaming on everyone's faces as they tried to imagine who it was. Jefferson had paused after starting the announcement, a small smile finally cracking on his face as he drank in everyone's reactions.

"It's probably not your first guess. I'm not sure how many of you follow the news, so let's start there. As many of you know, monsters emerged from their hiding place back in May this year in Virginia." There were murmurs in the crowd, guesses of 'that skeleton ambassador,' or 'the goat guy.' Jefferson put to a stop to the guesses with an open palm."Hold all questions until the end of the story."

"When the monsters emerged, there were a few things that stood out to the first Virginians that reported seeing them. First was the epiphany that, yes, monsters are real. Second was the king that stood at their front, a... giant goat man. The third thing was the human child that followed him, alongside another two more goat like monsters. The smallest of which turned out to be the king's son. The prince of all monsters."

He sounds like he's reading from a script. It's so... Not like him. And he clearly doesn't enjoy it himself.

As the thought hit her, Jefferson shifted in his seat to a more casual position. Almost like he had heard it himself.

"Dramatic, right? But a monarchy don't seem to have a lot of place in our democratic system. That's why we see a skeleton on the news instead of goat people," Jefferson said with a smirk. "I don't think at any point in my greatest eighties high could I imagine saying that. Don't tell Principal Wells I said that, either."

He got a few laughs around the room, but he had them all too engaged to stop for long. Except for Hayden, he seems like he's in his greatest millennial high right now.

"Now, I can't get into every detail about the monsters, you can do your own research on that. The point is, that prince and that human are in Oregon right now, on their way to spend a week or so in our quiet town. This King Asgore Dreemur called Principal Wells personally to ask if Wells could show his son our school," Jefferson leaned forward with a serious expression, one that was unbecoming on his face. "What we, the faculty, have to ask of you is this: behave. I'm not entirely sure how much time they'll be spending in the school itself, but I don't want to be the one to send the monster prince home with our not-so-classy high school language added to his vernacular."

The rest of the lesson became less engaging after that. Quite the accomplishment, Principal Wells. Overshadowing even Jefferson's lessons like this.

Max honestly hadn't thought about the monsters much since meeting Muffet that first time. The news had hit hard when they first emerged, and then sunk into the back of her conscious. Odds are, it'll be just like meeting anyone else. Except they'll have, like, horns and huge teeth or something. That still makes them less threatening than half the people I see in the hallways every day.

Hours later, she sat in her room plucking mindlessly at her guitar. It sounded a bit out of tune, but she couldn't really distinguish which string it was that was doing it. She wasn't really thinking about it. It was just noise, an attempt to drown out her thoughts.

Her phone beeped across the room. With a frown, Max put down her guitar and crossed the room. Warren's message was still lit up on her phone.

'Hey, so we've got monsters coming. You stocked up on your health potions?'

Max let out a laugh. She typed out her response quickly. 'Mana pots only. I thought you were healing?'

Her phone buzzed with his response a few moments later. 'I've always been tank, Max! Come on. Are we really going to have to find randos for the Blackwell Defense event?'

'I bet we could teach Kate to heal. Stella seems like a Warlock type, or maybe Brooke. And... Idk. Daniel as another dps, maybe?' Daniel would totally play WoW, wouldn't he?

'Eww. A lock in this expansion? Cmon. Pretty sure Brooke would be DK anyway.' Max shuddered at the thought. Yeah, Brooke's uninvited. Though that would be scarily fitting...

Would that make Nathan the Lich King? And what would that leave Victoria as? She'd probably be on Alliance, that bitch.

After a moment picturing her classmates as fantastical races, the logistics of their composition hit her. She sighed and typed in one last message.

'Welp. We're gonna wipe.'

'Well, it is just one monster. A kid at that,' Warren messaged back. Her phone buzzed again. 'Boss or not, we should be okay. Besides, look at this picture. He probably wouldn't hurt a fly.'

A picture popped as she finished the last message. The 'monster' in the picture was noticeably shorter than the robes next to him. He wore a green shirt with a series of cute, childish yellow stripes crossing his torso and sleeves. Every part of him not covered by clothing was covered by white fur. His eyes were a mystery, as he had been staring intently at the ground. His eyes and arms alike sagged tiredly. He was adorable.

She wasn't impressed by whoever took the picture though. It was taken sideways, clearly by a phone. This is the one Warren sends me? I have standards man.

Warren was sending another message before Max could finish analyzing the picture.

'Google says its from when the monsters emerged back in April.'

'What about the human kid? Isn't he coming too?'

There was a pause. Max sat back on her couch as she waited for an answer. She could have just looked up something herself, but she figured Warren was already searching for a picture. Sure enough, another picture popped into her messages. This one was a bit better quality, less blurry and less amateurish.

The Monster Prince was in this one too, sitting on a park bench next to a young... Boy, maybe? He(?) had a similar striped shirt on as the Prince, except it was blue with purple stripes. He had long brown hair that fell just below his neck and covered his forehead, and he wore a passive expression. He did look a bit happy, though. It looked like it was warmer out in this shot, and given they were eating ice cream it was easy to assume this shot was taken in the Summer. Warren confirmed as much a moment later in his description.

'Suddenly, I feel like maybe a party is overkill,' he added.

'No kidding. We're going to have to tape our mouths shut all week, lest we corrupt the youth.'

What was so stressful about bringing these kids in to look the school?


There was a flash of light as Asriel snapped the photo. He flicked it a bit after he pulled it out, and together he and Frisk looked at it.

"Nice shot," Frisk said.

The lake had the slightest hint of the sun's light reflecting off it, and in that morning light it seemed all the more beautiful. Not a lot of other people had gotten up so early to see the lake. Probably because it was a weird time of year for it. Kids were all going to school, college kid were trapped between jobs and classes, and most parents knew it was too early in the year to pull them out to look at cool things. Thanks monster mom. Totally worth it.

The islands were beautiful to look at, and Frisk especially enjoyed their names. Wizard Island was the big one, made of volcanic rocks. The other one, the Phantom Ship, did kind of resemble a boat. The guide had been very specific about the seven trees that grew on top of it, maybe like sails. It seems likely that most pirates have better seas to plunder.

The picture that Frisk and Asriel alike were most excited about didn't appear to be much. It just looked like a log, floating vertically in the water. The Old Man of the Lake was not just any old log floating vertically in the most famous lake this far in the West. Apparently, the first American explorers had found this very same log when they first found the lake, and it had been there for pretty much forever. Can't speak for the Native Americans there.

They had gotten lucky. The tree could've been anywhere in the entirety of Crater Lake, but instead it was right there in front of them, bobbing up and down invitingly.

"He's got to have some great stories to tell," Frisk said.

"Frisk, it's just a tree," Asriel answered.

"A tree who has seen more lifetimes than me," Frisk said. He imagined Asriel could feel the meaning behind that declaration. "More than Sans. Maybe more than you, or your Dad."

In the distance on the lake, the Old Man continued to bob. He seemed to be moving closer to the center of the lake, and further from them. It was hard to tell, though. When Frisk turned to his traveling companion, Asriel's lips had sunk a bit, likely at the mention of Asgore.

"Still, it's kind of cool even just to see it. Something constant." Frisk smiled reassuringly. "Even if it won't talk."

"What do you mean?" Asriel asked.

"Well, no matter what I do, or what happens, he'll be there. I'm not going to change that." Frisk let Asriel consider this for a moment. When Asriel turned to Frisk, He looked a bit happier again. His snout twisted into a bit of a smirk when he saw that Frisk was still looking at the picture. With a sigh, Asriel handed the photo of the Old Man to Frisk, who happily pocketed it without a word.

Frisk pulled out his phone and frowned at the time it showed him.

"You think Sans is awake yet?"

"Of course not. We could totally stay out and take more pictures," Asriel said. Frisk raised a brow, and shrugged.

"Okay. I pushed out a save when we got out of the van. We should be fine to risk a few more," Frisk said.

The mountain air, combined with the chill of the lake, was a refreshing feeling. They weren't near civilization right now. Being so far away from people was relaxing. Frisk couldn't ink of the last time he had sought relative solitude like this. Even as he traversed the Underground again and again, he was never this close to literally alone. Only ever figuratively.

Up here, though, on Mount Mazama? Here was only him, and Asriel, and Sans somewhere. Maybe a park ranger was out there too, and some troublesome kids cutting school. Frisk could hear birds. Bugs. The wind. It was peaceful. Can we just never go back?

We have to. No one else is going to save existence.

Is existence worth saving?

Yes. Even you have to agree that places like this place are worth it.

One last time, Frisk looked out over the Lake. Beautiful. Chara's desire to stay must have been contagious. Frisk couldn't entirely ignore it. It did abate slightly, a pang of acquiescence edging onto him in its place.

You make a fair point. Even if I detest it.

They arrived an hour later back at the car. It was a plain thing, big enough to fit the three of them and their stuff and things. Dad had wanted to give them a trailer to stay in too, but Sans had talked him out of that with the simple reminder that he was driving. Might have been nice, though.

The designated monster was laying back on the hood of the car, surprisingly awake and with a phone to the side of his head. Just like his brother, Sans doesn't have ears. The bone marrow shifted above above Sans's eye like an eyebrow as the kids approached.

"so, scratch that last part paps. I found 'em," Sans told the other line. A pause as the voice said something back, and Sans's smile actually widened. "course I'll pass that along bro. yeah, first thing when we get there tomorrow. yes, the car is still running. yes, both of the kids are still here. paps, i'm never gonna tell them a thing if you don't hang up. love you too, bro."

With that, Sans pulled the phone from his not-ear and shoved it into his pocket.

"What's Papyrus so excited for you to tell us today?" Frisk asked knowingly.

"he really wanted you to know he says 'hello,'" Sans said, lacking any of Papyrus's charisma. He slid off the front of the car with an elasticity not often associated with bone marrow, and landed on his pink slippers. The stench of a day's worth of ketchup and grease assaults your nostrils without mercy.

So dramatic, Chara.

Dead children needs hobbies. I imagine the Integrity child still does ballet in hell.

Frisk resisted frowning at that exchange as Sans sauntered up to the two of them.

"you two are late," he said plainly. "wish i'd have known you'd take your time, i would have turned off my alarm."

"You woke up for your alarm?" Frisk crossed his arms, leaned back a bit and quirked his eyebrow. One would think you do not believe him.

"don't know. slept through that part," he shrugged. "still, paps called, and that definitely woke me up. all the same, it isn't like we didn't plan for a few delays. we should still get there at time-o-clock tomorrow."

"And when we arrive?" Asriel asked. "We don't have much of a plan, do we?"

"don't we? figured you were coming up with something while you were gone."

Frisk flinched, and turned his head slowly towards Asriel hopefully. Asriel had done the same. They both turned back to Sans and shook their heads. Sans was still smiling.

"good, means we have no expectations. means we can wing it and be happy with the outcome."

"I have had a plan for everything for so long," Frisk said. He clenched his fist for dramatic effect, before pumping it into the air. "This is going to be great! Between my Determination and your guys help, we're going to improvise the best plan."

His declaration actually seemed to take Sans back. Asriel shook his head, for once being the one to keep himself composed.

"Come on, you dorks," the Prince shook his head. "Arcadia Bay awaits us."

"and the improv act of our lives, apparently," Sans opened the driver side door. "shoulda brought more than one joke book."

Frisk smirked at that. "Didn't you?"

"technicality. quantum physics ain't a joke, kid. just a useful tool for jokes."


Alternate title: Calm Before the Storm. 'Looking for Group' seemed more appropriately lighthearted for the contents of the chapter. Dorky enough for most of the cast, and not quite as cliche. Matches up with Max sort of finding friends, but... well, they aren't besties.

Couldn't think of a way to reference the web comic by the same name within the chapter, since it's been ten years since I last looked at it.

Had trouble with the finishing touches on this chapter, thus why it took an extra week to come out than the last one. I could write about places for hours, like the Crater Lake scene, but once I have to write conversations everything has to be perfect and I'm never happy.

The biggest concern I had was with the 'High school drama.' By definition, it's mostly all BS, and Victoria especially is bad about that. Making said BS both in character and somewhat entertaining did nothing to speed me up. I'd had Frisk's scenes done far before I had Max's first scene finished.

That quote from Andreas Feineger that I pulled up is real. Yanked straight from a Google search. Max, being in AP English, has to at least understand that backing up your claims with the word of professionals makes your case seem more valid. Smart guy, I think. Genuinely liked his pictures too, and this is coming from someone not into photography.

Edit January 8th, 2018: fixed a couple of typos, but there are probably a bunch more out there. Mostly I'm adding this to publically laugh at my authors note. Before The Storm hadn't even been announced when I'd released this chapter. I'm pretty sure your author can see the future. Don't tell him I said that though.