Entry 12, July 2. 1500H

Finally, I have a comm line to my homeworld.

The person who answered the call was not Lucidia, rather it was Papyrus. He's glad to hear me safe and sound.

We shared our experiences thus far. He thought it was quite the mystery of a tasteless prank.

Lucidia did have a moment of panic. But thank goodness Papyrus prevented a meltdown. Otherwise, in Papyrus' own words, 'She might have sent my brother on a parachuteless skydive. Again'.

Papyrus said his Eye can reach me if he uses it in Frisk's Hub. It appears that wherever I am had some semblance of a connection to The Void. This reveal was part of the major reason why things didn't spiral out of control back home.

Now… if only I can remember what happened the day before I woke up on those Goldenflowers. I'm hoping they weren't possessed by DEMONS.

As much as I wanted to speak with Lucidia, Papyrus said she was getting her 'much needed sleep'.

That's when I noticed something was off. I'm the one with the nocturnal habit, not her. I asked Papyrus about the time.

It was about 11PM. 2300 hours. Eight ahead of Ebott's Wake. If the approximate geography between dimensions is in sync with their respective timezones, I am stuck in this world's version of the Far West.

Great. Just great. Not only am I in the wrong dimension, I'm also on the wrong part of the globe. No wonder the environment appeared so oddly foreign.

I should arrange for a new call eight hours from now. That is, if this establishment opens at midnight. I'll have to ask the front desk about that.

As a reward for their kind diligence, I had the two Papyrus (Papyruses? Papyri?) talk to each other over the line. It's heartwarming to watch them gush their hearts out.

Entry 13, July 2. 1500H

My first order of business was to get some supplies for a week's stay. I can't be running around in civilization without a change of clothes and other personal hygiene tools. I'm not as rugged as Gaelic, and I'm certainly not the slob that is Sans Serif.

Papyrus recommended a few places to get goods for an economical price. One involved Joe's House of Stuff: the largest thrift shop in the 'Pacific Northwest'. Any necessities that I couldn't find should be somewhere in the 'WalMart' hypermarket.

With my mind no longer focused on the possible troubles of home, I had a better look at the town. It's… zany. This makes Ebott Town with all its quirks appear normal. Perhaps even sleepy.

The daily happenings here remind me of Cenna's favourite television series. Something about… Blood Battle Gate? No that's not it. She always used the untranslated name. It's… Kekkai… something. Either ways, that setting shared many things in common with Ebott's Wake.

Interdimensional rifts, checked.
Colourful monstrous denizens, checked.
Visitors from the other realms, checked.
Movies being real, checked.
Far West, checked.

Chaos and mayhem? Well, I don't see anything fatal or catastrophic yet. Any and all mischief turned out to be harmless comedy. Furthermore, the town hadn't devolved into a hive of scum and villainy.

I hope it stays that way.

Entry 14, July 2. 1600H

Joe's House of Stuff was something else, alright. It's stocked with all kinds of secondhand goods: from jewelry to clothes to devices to fantasy weapons to knick-knacks to other odds and ends.

It made sense that the wanderers might need to either pawn off their treasures for extra funds, or exchange them for goods that would be considered valuable in their home realm.

For example: a primitive hunter sold his fur hat to buy bags of cowrie shells. These shells aren't that valuable in the 21st century, but they're a prized currency in the ancient world. He could always make a new hat with that amount of money.

Then the next customer - an urbanite - sold her phone to buy that same fur hat. A rich handicrafts afficanado, perhaps? Such craftsmanship is a rarity in modern days. Only those with interest in leatherworking and history would produce an item of that nature. Commissions from amateurs won't be as accurate.

Meanwhile I just handed cold, hard cash for her phone. It's factory-wiped with the SIM card removed. Good. At least she wasn't clueless about technology.

Though I usually stay away from used devices for many reasons, I didn't want to spend more than I needed. The shopkeeper said that this model would just be two years old. An acceptable age if it's in good condition.

Their technology is expectedly far behind the 2070s. But, it's enough for photos, videos, and the occasional communication. Papyrus won't need to show up at my doorstep in the dead of morning anymore.

Buying a cheap coat would only make me look silly, so I settled for something more general… It didn't take long for Papyrus to make Grillby-related comments.

He then noticed my Arcanagram tattoos showing through underneath the sleeves. I stopped wearing white in public for a reason. In my homeworld, I have to keep these inked weavings a secret.

They're my weapons, after all.

However, that is not a problem in this land. It's full of wizards and free of enemies; to them it's nothing unusual to find a magic user strapped to the brim with magical gear.

Entry 15, July 2. 1713H

Papyrus' brother, Sans, showed up at the House of Stuff just as we were about to leave.

We… had a rough start.

Once everything calmed down, Papyrus suggested that we adjourn to a cafe called 'Das Boot'. They serve good sandwiches, he said.

It gave me a moment's respite to write this entry.

Though no offense was taken, my reactions did stir some curiosity. Sans wondered why I reacted so hostile to a whoopee cushion joke.

I replied by telling them that Sans Serif - his counterpart - was once a dangerous enemy. He's a man of many masks: a zealot born without a complete heart, trained by a foolish mentor to become the ultimate assassin. What a 'spectacular' outcome that was.

The topic quickly switched to my writing habits. I was recording every event live, as though I was the book version of Mettaton. What drives me so?

There's the long answer and there's the short answer. The short answer would be: 'for my wife Lucidia to read'.

Enough about me, skelebrothers. Let's write down about you, your family, and your zany town instead. I said so just when an elf, a dwarf, a human, a beastkin, and a halfling walked into the establishment. (The elf was plain ecstatic to have 'normal sandwiches for once'.)

Papyrus juggles between ambassadorial work and his daily blogging adventures. I did see his face on certain types of tourism promotional material. Hmm… Would it be a good idea to let him blog about me?

Sans is more or less a scientist for All Fine Labs. Productive work. At least he's no longer that vague bum of Underground fame.

It appears that their family tree expanded a little. Doctor Aster married a human named Doctor Ross, and they had a human daughter named Garamond (nicknamed Gary). She's about 2 to 3 years old. Very different from our master Investigator.

Alphys and Undyne had a daughter of their own too. About the same age. She's an axolotl monster named Leviathan (nicknamed Levi). How does a fish and a lizard result in an amphibian…? Can two females reproduce in this world? Biology seems to be different here.

Undyne kept her gym teacher job at Dreemurr Elementary. Papyrus wished that she could combine her PE routines with counselling. I suppose this means she's good in two fields.

Doctor Alphys became the head of All Fine Labs. Still an anime nerd, though no longer as spineless as her younger times. She's a boss, a spouse, and a mother now. They're all positions that require strength.

Toriel runs Dreemurr Elementary with her husband Asgore as the groundskeeper. His love for gardening knows no bounds: many of Ebott Wake's landscaping birthed from his hands.

They're back to good terms with each other? And raising three teenagers? Frisk, Chara, and Asriel.

Chara and Asriel, restored? Could there be a way? All our experiments failed thus far. Could this realm's science hold the key to their restoration? Or, do such possibilities exist only in this world?

Then there's the matter of Frisk. Their character sounds… different. I won't know how much until I meet this version in person.

The brothers look at me with glee and curious anticipation. They suddenly want to hear more stories of their alternates. And their friend's alternates. I can't say I blame them. Who wouldn't want to know?

I put my pen down so I could focus on my tales.