She set out for Snowdin the following day. A particularly damp part of the excursion had her using her good wing for an umbrella, and she was watching her step on a wooden bridge and trying to keep water out of her eyes when another pair of sheet shuffled past, offering a brisk, "PARDON ME, THANK YOU."
She stopped, held her wing over her brow and squinted at the passing figure. "Son of a bitch," she uttered. There Papyrus went, strutting away. Seizing this opportunity, she turned on her heels and followed him.
Papyrus arrived at a house that looked like an igloo coupled with a piranha. The door was fashioned into a set of clamped jaws, and even the windows had an aggressive slant.
She stopped at a distance, resting her bare feet in a patch of soggy grass, while Papyrus knocked on the door for what felt like three minutes.
"CAPTAIN UNDYNE! WOULD YOU PLEASE ANSWER THE DOOR? I KNOW YOU'RE HOME BECAUSE YOUR LIGHTS ARE ON."
The answer was a fist punching out one of the window panes from the inside, letting broken glass decorate the moss, clovers and crushed soda cans skirting the house. A round, blue, fin-framed head then poked out. It grinned toothily at the visitor and snapped in a (barely) feminine voice, "What?!"
"AH, THERE YOU ARE." Papyrus dropped to one knee on the doormat, as if to serenade the window, but instead came out his usual brash rhetoric. "IT IS I, THE STRONG AND LOYAL PAPYRUS! I'M HERE TO SUBMIT MY APPLICATION FOR THE ROYAL GUARD."
"Again? Didn't you already put one in last week?"
Papyrus eagerly rose to his feet. "I DID! I JUST OFFERING YOU A SPARE, IN CASE YOU MISPLACED THE FIRST ONE. I KNOW PAPERWORK CAN BE VERY TRICKY."
Undyne's expression squished with maniacal glee. "Heh! It sure can! That's why I throw all mine in the trash!"
"THAT SEEMS LIKE A TERRIBLE WAY TO MANAGE YOUR BILLS, THOUGH." He looked nonplussed. "WAIT—ARE YOU SAYING YOU THREW AWAY MY APPLICATION?"
"Of course not! In the Royal Guard we use all paper for target practice. I assure you it felt good to tear it to pieces on the end of my spear! Nya hah!"
"OH DEAR, BUT MY STATIONERY WAS PERFECT! IT WAS NOT MEANT FOR TEARING, ALTHOUGH I'M SURE YOUR SPEAR COULD ADMIRE PERFECTION WHEN IT SAW IT. ARE YOU SURE YOU WON'T RECONSIDER MY APPLICATION? I COULD HELP YOU SKEWER IT, EVEN. I'VE BEEN PRACTICING MY SKEWERING!"
The head in the window twisted to a unnatural degree and pursed bright red lips in thought. "Hmm... tempting, but... nope!" Undyne then disappeared into the house, gurgling with laughter. "Try again next week, loser! Nya!"
Papyrus hung his head. "ALAS, THE DOOR HAS BEEN CLOSED TO ME. OR IT REMAINS CLOSED, RATHER. BUT THERE'S STILL A WINDOW OF OPPORTUNITY, EVEN IF I'M TOO LARGE TO FIT THROUGH IT." He gave the broken window a critical look. "THE GREAT PAPYRUS WON'T GIVE UP! I'LL PROVE MY WORTH TO THE ROYAL GUARD, YET. UNDYNE WILL HAVE NO CHOICE BUT TO SEE HOW PERFECTLY WINDOW-SHAPED I AM!"
She couldn't hold it in any longer. "God, you're a tool."
"EH?" Papyrus spun around and noticed her. "ACTUALLY, I'M A SKELETON. HELLO THERE! I DON'T BELIEVE WE'VE MET. IT MUST BE QUITE AN HONOR FOR YOU! SURELY YOU'VE COME TO CONGRATULATE ME ON THE EVE OF MY BEING ACCEPTED INTO HIS MAJESTY'S ROYAL GUARD."
She snickered. "Tch, yeah, I do get all my kicks from watching men's dreams get crushed on doorsteps."
He narrowed a look of confusion at her. "YOU HAVE VERY PECULIAR TASTES. I FEEL BAD FOR THE MEN YOU WATCH. DO YOU HAVE A MORE FAVORABLE VIEWING OF SKELETONS?"
"Well..." She danced with a fresh idea, taking on a coquettish curl from her neck to her tail. "I am in the market. In fact, I think I can do you a favor."
His (already bone-white) expression brightened. "REALLY? I'M LISTENING..."
"You're looking to impress that fish lady in there, right? I can help you do that."
"EXCUSE YOU. UNDYNE SHOULD AT LEAST BE ADDRESSED AS 'CAPTAIN FISH LADY'."
"Whatever. Do you think she'll be impressed if you show off your skills by... say, beating me in a duel?"
"OH? YOU'RE CHALLENGING ME? TO ACTUAL COMBAT?"
"That is what I am saying, yes."
Papyrus thumbed his chin. "HMM, PUMMELING AN UNARMED LADY IN FRONT OF UNDYNE'S HOUSE IN A TEST OF WARRIOR BRAVADO? ...SHE'LL LOVE IT! I MEET YOUR CHALLENGE!"
"That's the spirit. In fact, if you can beat me... I'll read your fortune."
"UNDYNE WILL BEHOLD MY EXCEPTIONAL SKILLS AND I GET A FORTUNE? THERE'S NOTHING TO LOSE! HOW SHALL WE BEGIN?"
Had she lacked experience in this sort of thing, it would have been a brilliantly stupid plan. As it was—since she had been raised in a militant society and received self-defense training from the age she quit crapping her pants—it was only a sensibly stupid plan. She squared into a fighting stance (shifting after a moment to favor her uninjured wing) and sized up the field. The ground was puddle-slick, and they had some spare yards before the ground dropped into impenetrable marsh. Without the mobility of flight, she'd have to manage space carefully. This guy looked like he had the combat prowess of a slinky toy, but she underestimated his brother and that turned out pretty fun, so... no taking chances with this one.
Papyrus produced a length of human bone from a non-existent scabbard on his back and brandished it like a sword. "ALRIGHTY, LET'S SEE HOW YOU WARM UP TO MY REGULAR ATTACK!"
She ducked around a swing that cut the air with such force it made her ears ring. Alarmed, she staggered back to get more room to breathe. Well, either this guy doesn't know his own strength, or he's really not fucking around.
The bone swipes came one, two, and then again—they were powerful, but slow and easy for her nimble figure to navigate. Just to test her boundaries, she pivoted into an opening and struck the solid plate of his back with her heel. He stumbled forward, but recovered quickly. "WOW, DID YOU SEE HOW I TOOK THAT BLOW WITHOUT BUDGING AN INCH? ALL THE MILK I'VE BEEN DRINKING MUST BE PAYING-" She came in with a left hook that aborted his thought. It missed, but drew a satisfying, "YIKES."
Papyrus jumped back and struck a posture that almost looked crafty. "YOUR ATTACKS ARE QUITE WORTHY! IN FACT, THEY'RE ONLY A LITTLE RUSTY. YOU COULD USE SOME GUIDANCE TO POLISH THEM INTO A TRUE WARRIOR'S ATTACK. ALLOW ME TO SHOW YOU...!"
She braced for another huge swing. It sprang for her in a streak of wild blue, she pounced out of the way-
-and got clocked hard enough to half-plant her face in the mud. She sputtered and blinked until the impossible angle of attack stopped rattling her brain. Did she just get hit with a second, invisible bone?
"NYEH, HEH HEH! WHAT DID YOU THINK OF MY SPECIAL ATTACK? IT HITS YOU IF YOU TRY TO MOVE, YOU SEE. IT IS A MOST CLEVER RUSE, ISN'T IT?"
She hissed and got up on her knees, pawing at the caked mud around her nose. Above her, Papyrus swung his weapon dramatically.
"DO YOU YIELD?" He then bent a little closer to whisper oh-not-subtly, "HOW DID THAT SOUND? I THINK IT'S COMMANDING. SHE LIKES CONFIDENCE."
She coughed up a strand of grass and grimaced. "Shit... yeah, yeah, I yield."
He hitched the bone on his shoulder and posed triumphantly. "SPLENDID." He checked the closed door behind him and then immediately swung back around, as if pretending he hadn't. "GEE, IT MUST HAVE BEEN SWELL TO WATCH ME FIGHT. I'M SURE SOMEBODY WHO LIVES IN A HOUSE NEARBY AGREES!"
A warbling belch and bark of laughter issued within the house.
She scooped a nearby puddle of (slightly less rancid) water into her face to wash away most of the mud, huffed and stood up. "Right then. You win, so I suppose I owe you your reward."
"REWARD? OH, RIGHT, MY FORTUNE! HOW EXCITING. DO YOU READ TEA LEAVES OR PALMS? I'M A LITTLE SHORT ON PALMS, YOU SEE."
She signaled for him to approach. Not suspicious in the slightest, he did so. Sometimes it's a blessing to meet people this gullible. He was taller than she realized, standing closely over her by nearly a whole head. The black slits of his eye sockets blinked (ugh, still weird) at her with unchecked curiosity.
She rapped on his chest piece with her knuckles. The sound reported an unrecognizable alloy—something between metal and plastic. Looking him over, she noted that the parts not armor-clad were clothed in a sturdy-looking material. It'll be tough to get a reading through any of this.
"ADMIRING MY BATTLE ARMOR, ARE YOU? IT'S CUSTOM-MADE, YOU SEE. I'D GIVE YOU THE NAME OF MY TAILOR, BUT I CAN'T QUITE REMEMBER. HMM, ODD."
His brow furrowed with a frown, discomfited by the lapse in memory. "WHAT IF HE WASN'T EVEN A TAILOR? WHAT IF HE WAS A COBBLER? OR A BLACKSMITH...?! WHAT AN EMBARRASSING MISTAKE FOR YOU, IF I RECOMMENDED SOMEBODY AND YOU CALLED HIM BY THE WRONG PROFESSION? YOU'D HAVE TO APOLOGIZE PROF-"
She clapped her hand completely over his bare forehead. "Shush." Mercifully, this shut him up. "I'll just have to use your head. Hold still."
Close your eyes. Breathe. Focus. She opened her magic and slipped out of her skin.
If Papyrus's soul was anything like his brother's, she expected a coat of resistance right away—but it wasn't there. Her shade plunged straight through, and what she touched was so shocking it ground her teeth and knocked her eyes open wide.
It was like sticking one's hand into a box of rattlesnakes made of firecrackers. She didn't find a heart of any kind, but rather a nebulous pool of crackling energy, repelling her and sucking her in at once. Sparking phosphorus and candle wicks caught her arm and raced up her spine like lightning, rooting her feet to the spot and scorching her mind.
His spirit was pure pandemonium, unreadable at its core. At an instant she wanted to break away, but her hand was glued to the hot stove of his aura and it was pretty fucking painful. Her mind was stuck on breathless a loop of oh shit oh shit oh shit oh shit oh shit until—finally, she gasped and stopped standing.
"OH MY," was the last thing she heard before blacking out.