XXXXStuck. (B2)
...
There goes your alarm. All ringing and telling you to wake the fuck up.
You've been awake for a while, though. You just don't feel like emerging from your covers. There is absolutely no way it isn't 6:12 in the morning. And there is not a chance in Hell today isn't the 13th of April.
It's been that day for...
As long as you can remember.
You used to get a bit further. In the beginning. When this took longer. But lately; and by that you mean, since a duration of time that feels like an eternity, it's only taken about a day.
You try not to get too comfortable.
Cover still draped over your head, you sit up in your bed and reach around for the alarm to shut it off. You've a long trek ahead of you, so you better get started.
It's always so Goddamn cold over there.
Huh...It's kind of cold in here, too. That's odd.
You sigh as the sound of someone calling your name travels through the bedroom door. He sounds excited...More excited than usual, actually.
Could it be...
You pull the cover from your head and look quickly at the time displayed on your alarm clock.
6:12.
Your calendar quickly tells you it is indeed the 13th of April. Yet again. Crushing any hope you had left that it may have changed.
But this time, you have no idea where in the ever loving fuck you are.
This is not your bedroom. Well, it is. Everything is a complete mess. Lol, there's the treadmill you never actually use, because how are you even supposed to lose weight, anyway? And there's that good ol' vortex of useless trash, odd socks and mouldy pizza.
But, this room...
One glance out of the window tells you you are in Snowdin. For some reason.
Huh...Looks like you won't have to trek all that way after all. Not that you NEED to walk all the way. You have your shortcuts. But walking it has become a habit. It gives you time to think up new conversation starters. You usually go with the same old one in the end, though.
But this...this sure is a strange turn of events.
He calls your name again.
What is your name, anyway? It was sort of X'd out in the title of this chapter.
COMIC OF THE PUNDERGROUND
Hm...That seems to suit you, but maybe it is a little long. There's only four X's, you know.
SANS
There we go. That's more like it. You've been quite sans the motivation recently, haven't you?
Haha, wow...That one was dark.
He shouts one more time. Maybe you should call back and alert him to the fact that you are awake, and probably not dead or something.
Sans: coming.
?: WHAT IS TAKING YOU SO LONG?
Sans: i don't know why you're so surprised.
Sans: it's tibia expected at this point.
Sans: i'm just plain bone idle in the mornings.
?:OH MY GOD!
?: THIS IS NO TIME FOR PUNS!
?: MY HUMAN SENSES ARE TINGLING.
?: WELL. THEY DO THAT EVERY DAY
?: BUT, THIS TIME IS DIFFERENT!
?: I CAN FEEL IT IN MY BONES.
What
The Hell
Is he going on about?
You climb lazily out of bed and slouch over to the door, flinging it open.
Sans: what's gotten under your skin today, g-
?: GOOD MORNING BROTHER! I MADE YOU SOME SPAGHETTI!
As you stare up into that beaming face, all you can think is...This is not going to be an ordinary timeline.
Of course, the question on the minds of literally everyone here involved is: Who is this guy? He's been question marks for a little while, now.
Let's name him:
SKELETOR-
?: NYEH HEH HEH!
?: IMPRESSED?
?: I HAVE TAKEN MY CULINARY TALENTS TO BRAND NEW HEIGHTS, AND OUT DONE EVEN MYSELF!
?: EVERY MONSTER IN THE UNDERGROUND WILL FLOCK TO MY HOME COOKED CUISINE!
?: YOUR SILENCE SPEAKS VOLUMES!
?: ARE YOU ONLY REALIZING NOW, BROTHER, THAT, WHEN IT COMES TO THE ART OF CULINARY REFINEMENT, NEXT TO I, THE GREAT PAPYRUS, YOU STILL HAVE A WAYS TO GO?
Sans: ...
Sans: papyrus?
...Ok, well. Skeletor was close.
...
Shut up.
Papyrus: NYEH?
Papyrus: WHAT'S UP, BROTHER? YOU LOOK LIKE YOU'VE SEEN A GHOST.
Sans: oh, you know me. i'm just excited about this grub.
Sans: bone appétit!
Papyrus: SANS PLEASE!
Papyrus: ANYWAY. EAT UP. TODAY IS A VERY SPECIAL DAY!
Papyrus: I JUST KNOW A HUMAN WILL COME THROUGH TODAY, AND I WILL CAPTURE THEM!
Papyrus: AND THEN, FINALLY I WILL GET ALL THE RECOGNITION I DESERVE.
Sans: you some kind of human hunting fanatic, huh?
Papyrus: OF COURSE!
Papyrus: THAT IS THE MOST BASIC REQUIREMENT
Papyrus: FOR A FUTURE MEMBER OF THE ROYAL GUARD!
Papyrus: NYEH HEH HEH HEH HEH!
He leaves you alone with the spaghetti. Well, you probably shouldn't let it go to waste. You dig your fork into the pile of limp noodles, and begin to eat.
Oh...
Oh no...
This is...
This flavour...This texture...It is...Indescribable...
You are lucky you don't have a stomach. Otherwise, you might vomit. Something clearly went terribly wrong with this recipe.
Maybe you should make him some real food. There's still time. You think? God this timeline is already so topsy turvy.
You locate the kitchen and get busy. It's been a while since you've cooked something that isn't a hot dog. You mean, hot dogs are great and all, but after like a thousand days in a row of eating literally fuck all else, they start to taste like crap.
Maybe you'll let the human treat you to Grillby's when they show up.
If they show up.
You make a...quiche? Er...I think that's a quiche?
Maybe it's a pie?
...
I don't even know.
It probably tastes less terrible than that spaghetti, anyway.
Not that that's saying much.
You leave it on the side to cool, and set off.
Snowdin seems normal at least. Well, there's like, one new thing, but it is a fucking bonus! There seems to now be a Mayor. Snowdin has needed a Mayor for so Goddamn long. And now they have one! Aww. Look at him. All wearing his adorable little sash, and Santa hat.
Bless.
The Mayor is great.
Ten minutes later, you wait in the trees by the huge locked door, so ready to see that familiar face.
But, they don't show up.
Instead, you watch as a boy wearing glasses and a blue and light blue striped sweater emerges from the door. You have no idea what you were expecting, but it wasn't this.
Sans – Greet new human?
You approach the boy from behind, deciding to go with your usual shtick. Maybe he knows why this timeline is already so fucked up.
Sans: Human.
Sans: Don't you know how to greet a new pal?
You barely begin the next sentence of those exhausting, rehearsed words, when the boy turns.
Your eyes flash briefly. It's as though he's done this before.
You continue to smile as you extend your hand in a polite gesture of peace.
Sans: put 'er there.
?: er...hey...talking skeleton.
?: i have a better idea.
?: pull my finger. it's a special human greeting.
He holds out his finger.
You...see right through his ruse. You are literally the best prankster you know, after all.
You 'take the bait'.
Hehehe, sucker.
Pop!
Your arm promptly falls straight out of its sleeve, the hand still clasped firmly around the human's finger.
You allow yourself a moment of intense amusement, while the human appears to be screaming internally. Silence passes between you as you remain highly entertained, until a whoopee cushion falls out of your sleeve and plops onto the snow, making a long, low farting sound.
You do not stop smiling.
?: er...
Sans: i've got to hand it to you
Sans: you're pretty funny looking for a human.
?: er...
Sans: you are a human, right?
?: er...
Sans: oh right. can i have my arm back?
Sans: i've grown rather attached to it.
?: er...
You reach forward and retrieve your arm.
This does nothing to pacify the human. You're pretty sure he's going to be scarred for life.
Or at least the next five minutes.
Sans: so listen. i'm supposed to be on the lookout for humans. but i don't really care about capturing anyone.
Sans: my brother...papyrus, on the other hand...
?: there's two of you?
?: does his arm come off as well?
Sans: only when he has a...
Sans: bone to pick with you.
?: (omg)
Sans: actually, i think i hear him coming.
Sans: here's an idea. follow me!
You lead the way across the unstable looking bridge, absently observing the shitty quality of the bars built across it. They were made far too wide to stop anyone.
Did Papyrus do that?
Sans: see that conveniently shaped lamp?
?: erm...yes.
Sans: hide behind it.
?: um...
?: ok. fuck it. whatever.
The human hides behind the conveniently shaped lamp. Wow, that thing really is conveniently shaped. The only possible way he could be discovered there by a human hunting fanatical skelebro is if someone purposefully sold out his location.
Papyrus marches into the clearing, a Determined expression on his face.
Sans: hey papyrus. check out this lamp!
Papyrus: SANS! I DON'T HAVE TIME FOR THIS!
Papyrus: WHY ARE YOU LOLLYGAGGING AROUND?
Sans: hey chill out. i've gotten a ton of work done today.
Sans: a skeleton.
Papyrus: SANS!
Sans: come on papyrus. you know my puns tickle your funny bone.
Papyrus: OH MY GOD!
Sans: anyway. cool lamp, huh?
Papyrus: ...
While you banter back and forth with the ever enthusiastic Papyrus, in the back of your mind, a nagging guilt tugs at you. You try to sound as familiar with him as possible, but, in the end, only one thing remains...
You don't know him. At all.
This isn't the brother you have spent your entire life admiring. But it becomes painfully clear, that you are the one he has.
While you were talking, the human escaped. But you don't really care. You spend the rest of the day trying to get your bearings on where you stand socially in this timeline, then return home.
You wonder whether things will stay this way now, or whether you will wake up tomorrow and everything will have returned to normal.
While you're at it, you can't help but wonder which way would be for the best. On one hand, you hope Frisk is ok, and that they actually exist. But, on the other hand, from what you have seen of Papyrus throughout the day...you don't think you will have to keep looking over your shoulder and making sure he doesn't get into too much trouble-
Papyrus: SANS?
Well...Maybe you will. But for different reasons.
You make your way into the kitchen, and to the source of all the yelling.
Papyrus: SANS, I DO NOT WISH TO ALARM YOU
Papyrus: BUT I THINK SOMEONE BROKE INTO OUR HOUSE!
Sans: really?
Sans: doesn't look like anything was stolen.
Papyrus: THAT'S BECAUSE
Papyrus: NOTHING WAS STOLEN!
Sans: ...
Papyrus: BEHOLD!
He gestures dramatically towards the quiche you made earlier. You had almost forgotten about that thing.
Sans: oh, that?
Sans: i made it earlier.
Sans: it's for you.
Sans: i know you like-
Papyrus: IS SOMETHING WRONG?
Sans: huh?
Papyrus: YOU HAVE NEVER COOKED ANYTHING BEFORE.
Papyrus: YOU USUALLY JUST GET TAKE OUT, OR SPEND YOUR TIME IN THAT GREASE TRAP, GRILLBY'S.
Papyrus: WAIT!
Papyrus: THIS IS A JOKE, ISN'T IT?
Sans: ...
Sans: you got me!
Papyrus: I KNEW IT!
Papyrus: NOTHING GETS PAST THE GREAT PAPYRUS!
Papyrus: ...EXCEPT THAT HUMAN.
Papyrus: BUT, NEVER FEAR!
Papyrus: THERE IS ALWAYS TOMORROW!
Papyrus: NYEH HEH HEH!
He triumphantly leaves the kitchen.
You...don't have the heart to eat the quiche.
Using one of your 'short cuts', you deposit it somewhere it can be forgotten, and never think about it again.
...
It's been five weeks since then.
Five weeks. And still, every morning you are certain you are going to wake up once again on the 13th of April.
But, no. You're half way through May already.
You've never got this far. Not even when Frisk was first starting out.
John sure is slow. Fucking n00b.
Three days after he first showed up, you found something interesting while checking your drawers. The key you always kept just so happened to still be there, and it opened up a secret room behind your house.
A small lab awaited you, nothing like the one you're used to. But still, it had everything you were looking for.
You spend a lot of time there, trying to figure out just what happened.
A large, hulking machine stands in the corner of the room, displaying a series of codes that wouldn't make the faintest bit of sense to anyone else, but you know exactly what you are looking at.
This machine displays every instance of this universe. There was a time when you could switch focus between each one, and retcon outcomes at will. You lost that power a long time ago.
That doesn't stop you from being able to see the codes, though. The codes of each instance, and all the times the human RESET the timeline.
A1, A2, A3, A4, A5, A6, A7, A8, A9, A10, A11, A12, A-...Holy fucking CHRIST Frisk. How many times did they RESET?!
...
A413...A612...Ah! Here we go...A1111...
Wow.
Just wow.
Currently, the monitor seems to be fixated on instance 'B2'. That would be all fine and dandy, but, what the shit happened to instance 'B1'? Why don't you remember it?
I mean, you've been trapped in a state of perpetual Groundhog Day for like, 1,113 timelines in a row. Surely some of them would slip your mind, right?
But, no...Even if you don't remember the exact events of each one, you are at least AWARE of them. As far as you know, B1 never happened. Or...you weren't a part of it.
You wish you still had the power to access any timeline whenever you wanted.
Well, look on the bright side.
You may not be able to access it. But we can!
Achievement Unlocked – We may now delve face first into the shitfest of a timeline humbly known as instance B1.
Hurray?
I mean. It's not that big of a deal.
We've already been there.