Ok, I've got some new plot info. So, uh, every part will be 8 chapters long. And uh. There may be only 3 or 4 parts depending on this story's progress. Also, From this chapter to about chapter 13 or 14, it'll be the same formula as chapter 10. so. Yay I guess. And sorry this chapter took a while to get released, I had some writer's block. (Does anyone read these anymore?)
Chapter 11. Recordings
The moon rises on the tenth night with a half gleam. Its curve is perfect.
Undyne walked out with a wide smile on her face as she breathed in the fresh air. The vines and leaves rustled in the wind.
Another day, another pain in the ass.
She walked quickly past her and Alphys' "sitting rock" and made it to the wall of vines and stone. When she placed her hand on it she held on to the nearest vine and planted her left foot on a jutting rock. Continuing this pattern, she kept climbing, cheating death, persevering non-boredom and depression.
Finding handholds and grips were way too easy for her. Looks like those combat and piano lessons paid off.
She reached the top, and looked into the clear night sky. Undyne then stood completely up. There wasn't a field; there was only scrap metal and vines with boulders laid out for hundreds of miles. Luscious mountains and valleys could be seen in the distance. She collected several pieces of metal, vines, and rocks, and made camp.
Later that night, Asgore decided to look through some singed seats and carpet at the explosion site of the plane. His hands started to become slightly burnt and callused. Small embers lit up near the former foyer. He looked back and smelled raw gasoline and flames. After a split second, a small flash of light transformed into a mild explosion.
The explosion knocked Asgore down to to the ground, but no major damage was caused. Afterwards, he kept sifting through the wreckage and found miniature, dusty, and ashy books. The notebooks' pages were surprisingly intact.
When Asgore gathered more burnt food and stored water, he returned to the inlet and placed in the largest weaved basket Toriel made.
Some more searching through stored objects came into Asgore's way, specifically, the search of a pen. Maybe there would be someway to keep everyone sane while surviving here. It might even tell future travelers of the pains and struggles Asgore and Co. went through. The idea might seem childish or insane, but Asgore thought it was the only thing they could do with the notebooks and pens.
Journals. Informative ones. Not any cancerous "Dear, Diary" journals. Actual recorded history of past events and actions. Maybe even some venting here and there.
Alphys might write down "Dear, Diary", but that's her problem.
Asgore opened up one of the lined Journals and started writing about the past few days
"My name is Asgore Dreemurr, and I wasn't meant to be here. Where ever I am in the world right now…
'Nice way to start off,' he thought.
"...It started off simple. My life was, 'ok' back then. A perfect garden. A decent home. A fresh start from living in The Underground. I was...happy? In a way. But one normal winter day, everything changed. It built up. All the way to the point where we actually got onto the plane.
"It was magnificent. Beautiful. Very expensive.
'They might not know who Toriel is. Oh well, they'll figure it out.' Asgore smirked.
"I thought that the tensions between Toriel and I would soften, but they didn't. Much. Maybe barely. But it wouldn't matter anymore. After we, and some other friends, wrecked into the place in which you are reading this now."
Asgore kept writing for several hours. All night even. Up to the current day. Day 11. His final paragraph was written with shaking hands, making it appear like so:
"tHis dox wos thc dox thot I fooud this ioovuol. Hopcfullx, movc will hoppcu tomovvow."
Or:
"This day was the day that I found this journal. Hopefully, more will happen tomorrow."
He closed the journal and placed it and his pen on a flat rock posed on the wall. Asgore then walked out of the inlet with six pens and copies of the same blank journal. In the inside of the front cover on all journals, Asgore wrote "Hopefully this will keep you sane". He then handed everyone the journal, but he halfheartedly tossed it towards Sans.
He was only missing one person.
Undyne.
Asgore looked everywhere. He even ran down the sides of the stretching canyon.
Then he saw smoke coming from the top of one wall above the wreckage.
That has to be Undyne.
He walked backwards a bit, getting a good angle, and some air clearance. His arm lifted and swung back. Asgore then jerked it forward, and upwards, letting the pen and journal to fly through the wind, reaching Undyne's camp.
When Asgore walked back, towards the cascade, he looked to his right and saw Papyrus leaning on a perplexed Sans. Sans just stared at the journal then opened it up and wrote "whatever" inside of it. But, Papyrus seemed, off.
Ill, or malnourished, malaise.
He already tricked himself into eating fake spaghetti for the past few days, so, he should be fine. So what exactly was wrong with him?
Soon after Asgore took another step, Papyrus collapsed on the canyon floor. Sans looked up, shocked, and held him in his arms. Alphys, Frisk, and Toriel ran to him. Undyne climbed down quickly and joined everyone as well.
Asgore gasped and sprinted, then slid to Papyrus sleeping body.
Ok, so to clarify, the journals that I have introduced aren't just filler material. They have true meaning because they explain what happens in either vague or extreme detail what I don't write in between or in my chapters. The things you miss out on. Plus, I would think that the "missed scenes" would be better told in the character's point of view. They'll also be important after the story is over. So. See you later I guess.