Snowdin Part 5
No longer absorbed in the air of heat and thick dampness in the bar, Frisk felt the cold become much more striking now. Especially in her feet area, where her missing shoe was.
But she didn't care much for it at the moment. She couldn't care much of anything, in fact, for her mind was wracked with thoughts and terror.
"Y-you didn't actually believe that story, did you, Frisk?" Flowey asked her.
Frisk wanted to answer with an assured no. Normally, she wouldn't think twice on a story like that, for it felt so absurd, so exaggerated in its goriness and detail that how could she rationally believe it? This time, however, she wasn't sure. She just felt dread, and desperately didn't want to think about it anymore. Instead, she decided to just tell her companion the truth. Or at least, the closest thing she felt was the truth.
"I don't… I don't know what to believe in anymore," Frisk admitted. "But if it's true then… Jesus."
"Uh-huh," Sans said in his chill voice.
"How far away is the house," Frisk asked, trying to change the subject.
"Not long," Sans said. "Just beyond the library. Been in there?"
"Yeah, we… we took a look," Frisk said.
"Real treat the owner huh?" Sans asked sarcastically.
"Oh you can't imagine," Flowey said and rolled his eyes. "Know anything about that?"
"Mm, no," Sans said. "Nada."
"He said something about a bribe," Flowey added. "I think. Mentioned it while he was talking to RG 01 back when he was in town a moment ago. Although, I think "talking" is putting it lightly."
"I don't know much about any bribe," Sans said. "But it would explain why the place is still open. Eh. I'm sure it's not that important. At least not to us, that is."
"Uh-huh," Frisk simply said.
If she was in the mood, she would've commented on the strange hint of friendship she felt she gathered in that short dialogue between the two of them, despite the usual chemistry she had grown used with them. Instead, she just nodded and kept walking.
"Hey, kiddo," Sans suddenly said to her. "Noticed you are only wearing one shoe."
"Oh right," Frisk replied, removed from her thoughts.
She had gotten so used to it, to the missing shoe, that she almost forgot about it. That and the snow, strangely enough, didn't prove as cold or distracting to walk on in nothing but her bare sock.
"Yeah, that's a long story," Frisk added.
"Eh, you don't need to tell it," Sans said. "But we have some spare shoes at home if you want. Sure some of my brother's would fit you nicely."
"Erm… thanks," Frisk replied, unsure.
"You may even have both of the pair," Sans added. "In case you don't want to look like a clown with two different shoes on both your legs."
"Hmm, yeah, that'd… be weird," Frisk simply said.
"Are you alright?" the skeleton suddenly asked.
"Excuse me?" Frisk replied.
"Bothered about that story at Grillby's, eh?" Sans asked.
"N-no I-," Frisk began. "Alright, yeah. A bit."
"Don't let it bite ya that hard kid," Sans said. "Know it sounds easy but… just try not to think about it for now. Whether it's true or not, you can't do anything about it so… why care? Works for me all the time."
"Erm, alright…" Frisk said, unsure.
"That's the spirit," Sans said, jokingly.
"But… was it true though?" Frisk asked nervously.
"Hmm?" Sans asked back.
"What the old bird dude said about Mickey?" Frisk clarified. "Is Mickey… really like that."
Sans didn't say anything, just kept his pace. But his eerie silence proved all the answer she needed, and the terror within her only rose. Her frightful thoughts now came tumbling down like an avalanche, but before they could pile up and suffocate her, the thoughts were stopped as she suddenly felt something poking her back. She turned around and saw Flowey trying to get her attention with his vines.
"Hey," he whispered to her. "Stop walking."
And so Frisk did. The skeleton, who heard the flower as well, followed suit.
"W-what is it?" Frisk whispered anxiously.
Flowey slowly pointed with one of his vines towards a strange creature that stood just outside the library. It was a monster that resembled an old, anthropomorphic deer. He seemed short but only due to the fact his back was incredibly crooked, so he leaned incredibly forward like a great force was weighing him down. What seemed to be a beard resembling the mane of a goat hung from his chins, and his eyes, grey and tired, lay underneath a pair of spectacles. He had one single remaining reindeer horn which was old and withered, looking like a rotten branch about to crumble. In terms of clothing, he dressed very lightly, consisting of almost nothing but a wool robe that resembled a carpet more than anything and he held an old, withered stick that seemed to be fitted as a cane.
In short, Frisk didn't find that monster to stand particularly out from the rest of the poor creatures in Snowdin, but the sudden urgency from Flowey just made her slightly scared of him, as if this old creature, once seeing her, would suddenly lunge at her at incredible speed and devour her like trolls from the old stories.
"Well crap," Sans said.
"That's old man Dunder," Flowey whispered.
"Who is-?" Frisk began.
"We should get out of here," Flowey whispered then sighed. "Can't believe I'm asking for his help, but… Trashbag?"
"Noted," Sans said.
"Hey, what's going… on?" Frisk said.
Before she finished, the bulging skeleton grabbed her shoulder and suddenly, the air got heavier, not as much as in the bar though, and she found herself standing no longer standing in snow but rather a warm carpet in what appeared to be the living room of someone's home.
"Well, that could've gone smoother," Sans said. "Eh. Whatever. Welcome to my place, kiddos."
In terms of design and texture, his home was probably much better off compared to the rest of the houses in town, having warm air and working electricity. The wallpapers were coloured a brownish red, and the floor had a carpet with a fancy wave-like pattern.
But in terms of the rest, the furniture, clothing and sense of cleanliness, it was pretty close to what Frisk imagined his house would be, judging by what she could guess and figure out about the strange skeleton's character. The furnitures in the living room included a green torn sofa, one small table holding an open bag of chips, a bigger one for dining, and an old dusty looking antique television pushed against one wall. Countless stains and stenches of varying flavours and origins covered these furnitures, alongside some dirty laundry on the sofa and floors. More stains were on the wallpapers which also had tearings in it, and to say the floor was dirty would be an understatement. Even more dust and dried out stains of various colours filled the floor, red, yellow, brown and black. There was also a staircase leading to a second floor and an open kitchen tied to the living room with no door in between. Frisk only took a quick glance at the aforementioned kitchen before she had enough, as the surprisingly tall sink was filled with unwashed dishes, plates and other appliances of the sort. Even the small table in the kitchen was a victim of the same slobbiness and laziness as the rest of the house, filled with dirty plates holding half-eaten burgers that had become home for a group of flies.
Suffice to say, a nest would be a better term for the place, and soon, the warm air turned so heavy it was as if it had never gotten a single breeze from the outside. Out of the two of them though, Flowey seemed to be more surprised than her by the look of the place.
"W-what the… heck?" he asked, baffled. "Hey, trashbag. You sure you got the right place?"
"I mean, unless there is another family of slobs with an identical house in a snowy place underground," Sans answered. "Then yeah. I think this is the right place."
"Family of slobs?" Flowey repeated in bafflement. "But… but Papyrus isn't a-"
"But now that you say it," Sans began. "Maybe there is another family of slobs in an identical house in a snowy place underground. Hmm."
"H-hey, what is that smell?" Flowey suddenly asked.
"What smell?" Frisk asked him.
"You need to be a little more specific in this house," Sans said.
"Just… just pay attention," Flowey said with a hint of annoyance.
Frisk now stood still, absorbing the countless odours of the place. After a few moments, she noticed that one stood out, not just in its strength, but also strange familiarity. That stench grew slowly, but surely in its intensity until it drowned all the other odours in the place. Quickly after that, Frisk saw that a subtle green hue was coming down the stairs from some unseen origin. That wasn't what surprised her the most though. What did was that now she finally realized why the stench felt incredibly familiar to her.
"H-hey I know that smell," Frisk said. "That's… that's frigging weed. Just… stronger somehow."
"Weed?" Flowey asked curiously. "How the heck do you know what weed smells like? Wait a minute. Frisk? Are you telling me you-"
"No, I… my dad is a junkie," Frisk quickly answered before Flowey finished.
"Oh," Flowey replied, sounding sorta surprised.
God, why the hell did I just reveal that to him? Frisk thought.
"Oh yeah, that smell," Sans said and sighed with disappointment. "Baron's breath, it's called. Some type of drug cigars that… it's what my bro smokes a lot these days."
"What?" Flowey said, sounding befuddled once more. "Since when does Papyrus smoke?"
"Since a few years ago," Sans said. "Hey, can you wait here a moment kiddos? Need to talk to my bro a bit before he comes down. Make yourself comfortable in the meantime. Do whatever you please, touch whatever you please. You even have my permission to raid the fridge, if you'd like."
"Uh… sure…" Frisk replied awkwardly.
With that said, Sans casually headed up the stairs towards the origin of the strange green smokes. There came a few seconds tapping footsteps, followed by a door opening and shutting.
"Hey Flowey," Frisk began. "What was up with that… old reindeer guy back there? Why were you scared of him?
"Oh, Dunder?" Flowey said. "I wasn't scared of him, per se. Dunder is… well to put it short, let's just say you can't let him see you. No matter what.
"W… why not?" Frisk asked nervously.
"Old man Dunder is pretty ancient," Flowey explained. "That's not an insult, by the way, he's actually pretty old."
"Ok…" Frisk said, sounding as if Flowey just spoke in an unknown language. "What's that got to do with anything?"
"Because, due to his age," Flowey began. "He is… he's one of the few monsters down here who knows what a human actually looks like."
"Oh…" Frisk said. "Wow, he must be pretty old then."
"I think over a thousand years old, last I checked," Flowey said.
"Yeah, that's… pretty old," Frisk said. "I don't think I can even comprehend being that old. But wait. Why didn't you warn me about him beforehand? Before we reached town that is."
"Yeah that's kinda my fault," Flowey said. "Frankly, I assumed he died sometime during my years-long coma. But as it turns out the stubborn grandpa just refuses to die it seems. Plus, he lives outside of town, or he did, last time I saw him, and rarely ever came up here due to his age, except like once or twice a year. Really didn't expect him to be here the exact day we showed up."
"Hmm," Frisk replied. "Well, either way, thanks for the heads up."
"No problem," Flowey said.
Frisk now looked around the trashed place, tired and emotionally exhausted. She wasn't a fan of it but figured it was better than nothing, and so let herself fall on the green sofa and sighed tiredly. The sofa was surprisingly comfortable, and Frisk figured she could sleep easy in it, once all the dirty laundry and leftover food were removed from it.
"Now what?" she asked, no one in particular.
"Let's… go upstairs," Flowey suggested. "Let's spy on trashbag. See what's up."
"Really?" Frisk said. "Erm… ok then…"
"What?" Flowey asked.
"You're just usually so cautious about these things," Frisk said. "Has my dumb curiosity rubbed on you these past few hours or what?"
"Maybe," Flowey said. "I'm just… let's just say I'm kinda more curious about this particular thing."
"Well it's fine by me," Frisk said. "Erm… mostly fine, rather. I'm just nervous what that creepy skeleton guy will do if he notices us spying on him."
With that, she rose up from the sofa, which proved to be slightly difficult due to her weariness, and headed up the stairs, following the oozing green smoke that seemed to now lessen in its intensity.
"Still scared of him, eh?" Flowey asked his carrying companion.
"Yeah…" Frisk admitted. "I know it's illogical at this point but… I can't help it. He just creeps me out somehow."
"I'd say most fears are illogical," Flowey said.
"Mmhm," Frisk replied. "I guess I can see that."
At the end of the staircase was a small hallway with two doors. The strange green smoke that smelled of strong weed came from underneath the door right in front of the staircase. As Frisk approached it, what sounded like loud yelling came from behind the door, with the sounds of something or someone stumbling coming quickly afterwards. Frisk stood in front of it now, and curiously, she leaned her ear on the door.
"-you're always lazing about and such, so why am I not allowed to do so as well and-" said an unfamiliar voice.
"I've told you constantly this is different and-" said a voice who Frisk recognized as Sans'.
"Oh, how is it different?!" the other voice said angrily.
"What do you- whatever. I've already argued with you today bro. We have guests over now and... I'm just asking you not to be junked up while they are here, ok? Just for one day, at the most."
"Why not?! It's not like they'll notice it or anything!"
"I've already told you a lot of times…! Alright, fine. Just do what you want now I guess…"
"Strange," Flowey said, who had also leaned against the door. "Never heard them argue like that. Or at least, not where trashbag is the one telling his brother to get it together."
"I see…" Frisk replied. "Although, I kinda know what it's-"
Without realizing it, she, by pure accident, leaned too close to the door so that her elbow scraped down on the handle, and in just a moment, she and Flowey came stumbling into the room on the other side.
"Oh shit!" she exclaimed.
She stumbled down onto the floor which seemed to come rushing towards her face and hit her like a football. It happened so fast she barely had time to react before the pain came upon her face.
"Aww fuck," she muttered, face on the dirty floor.
"Are you alright?" Flowey asked.
"Yeah…" Frisk replied. "Just… hurt a bit."
"Who… what is that, Sans?" an said an unfamiliar male voice.
It was the same voice she heard talking to Sans.
Regaining her balance, Frisk looked up and saw one familiar, fat skeleton looking down at her. But then she saw that there was another skeleton beside him, looking down at her as well. One much taller and skinnier, and unlike his shorter counterpart, this one had the shape and body that she would expect to find inside an ordinary adult human.
That particular skeleton monster was barefoot, wearing nothing but a pair of red and black patterned pyjama pants that clearly hadn't been washed in days, and complete with a plain, light grey undershirt, that dangled loosely from his neck like it was oversized, clearly due to him being literally nothing but bones underneath. The only thing that seemed out of place for a human skeleton to have was his head, which seemed a bit too long for a human skull and to fit with this strange expansion, his two eyesockets were less like black holes and more like two vertical lines, or small crevices.
As Frisk looked at him, she saw that he also appeared much more emotive than Sans. It was strange to see a skeleton emote without muscles, but somehow, his skull shifted and bent like it was white skin. She could also tell from his strange expression that he looked at her with a mix of surprise and intrigue.
"What the…" Flowey said, looking around and sounding strangely befuddled.
Frisk groaned as she pushed herself up to her feet and dusted herself. Now, with a clearer head, she could take in her surroundings much easier.
When it came to cleanliness and fineness, the room was not that different than what she had seen so far from the rest of the house. There were layers of dust on almost every object and furniture Frisk could see, and the floor was covered in stains, food crumbs, and what seemed to be several old and smoked weed joints. The number of furnitures and objects were also pretty minuscule as well, with a large carpet with a fire pattern lay in the centre of the room, underneath yet another pile of dirty clothes, a dusty, messy car bed lay at a wall beside the door, and a very antique looking computer lay on the floor underneath the window. There was also a half-empty bookcase and an open wardrobe holding no clothes, except what looked like a set of white knight costume with a red cape that was thrown into a pile deep inside, as if they were memories of a lost dream the owner wanted nothing to do with. Lastly, besides the car bed, there was a single black trashcan, which was filled with a pile of papers, herbs and more of the same old weed joints.
"Erm… hi?" Frisk said to the tall skeleton and smiled awkwardly.
"Uh, Sans?" the large skeleton asked, staring at her with disbelief. "Is that a… human?"
"Uh…" Frisk said nervously.
"Sans, is that a human?" the skeleton asked again.
"Mmh," Sans answered. "That, Papyrus, is indeed a human."
Frisk, Flowey and the tall skeleton eyed each other with almost the same expression of confused emotions. Then suddenly, the tall skeleton's mouth stretched into a small smile, and following that, he laughed nervously. His body then began to rattle, and the room was filled with the sounds of a shaking ribcage while he took a few steps backwards, still with a smile on his face.
"My… gods," he said. "I can't believe it. A human? An actual human? In my room? In my house?"
"Well, kiddo," Sans said. "Frisk, this is my little bro, Papyrus."
Even though the tall skinny skeleton, Papyrus, stared at her while backing into a corner of the room like a frightened animal, he smiled, although a bit awkwardly like his mind was stuck between a place of pure happiness and terror.
"Ho-holy…" Papyrus muttered.
A strange but quiet rattling noise suddenly came from his mouth, and it took Frisk a moment to realize it was him attempting to suppress his nervous laughter.
"Papyrus?" Flowey said. "Wow. You've… certainly changed."
The tall skeleton stopped making his strange noise as he looked at the flower with a confused expression.
"Do I… know you?" Papyrus asked him.
"Really?" Flowey asked, sounding surprised and almost saddened. "You… you don't remember me? It's me. Flowey. Your, erm, your old best friend, remember? From a few years ago? Give or take. We used to chat a lot. Hang out a lot in fact."
Papyrus examined him clearer, and his eyesockets seemed to bend like he was squinting. Then, the sockets opened up again and he stared at him like he just got some sense of clarity.
"F-Flowey?" he asked, sounding very surprised. "By the… wowie! What is this… feeling?"
The tall skeleton could suppress no longer and gave out a burst of strange laughter. It was a laugh of joy and gleeful surprise, but simultaneously, it was a laughter of unease. Of fear, almost like he was terrified of his own reaction.
"Welp, I think we broke him," Flowey said snarkily.
"Erm, Sans, is this normal with him?" Frisk asked while she watched the strange event unfold.
"Not really," Sans said, watching his brother laugh maniacally. "This is new."
The tall skeleton kept laughing, louder and louder and his bones rattled with, and a strange watery fluid leaked out from his bones uncannily like sweat. Eventually, he attempted to calm down and placed one of his bony palms over his jaw.
"S-sorry, I…" he muttered before giving out another small burst of laughter. "G-god… Flowey it's so… it's so good to see you again."
"Yeah…" Flowey said, confused. "You too…"
"H-how you've been?" he said and smiled nervously.
"Well I just woke up from a coma and now I have a bunch of holes in my memories," Flowey said.
"Huh…" Papyrus said.
He then turned to look at the girl carrying him, and Frisk felt a tinge of uneasy hit her as the tall skeleton stared at her with black empty eye sockets.
"W-who are you?" he asked nervously, sounding almost like Frisk was gonna scream at him.
"Name's Francisca," Frisk said. "Just… just call me Frisk. Everyone does that."
"F-Frisk?" Papyrus nervously asked back. "W-well. It's… nice to meet you. I always wanted to see a human… but… but…"
The tall skeleton smile seemed to fade as he turned towards his older yet much shorter brother.
"S-Sans?" he asked. "W-why is there a h-human standing in our house?"
"What, you expect her to sit?" Sans joked.
"Heh, n-no, I…" Papyrus said and smiled awkwardly "It's just… it's illegal you know? I'm glad to see her, and I thank you for s-showing me her. But… it's not right to have a human in our home. S-she should leave. Get out of here before they… before they…"
"It's only illegal if they find out," Sans said. "Which no one has. So far that is."
"I mean… we could leave if it's too much of an issue," Frisk said. "Find some other monsters willing to help us."
"Oh, no, no," Sans said. "It's no big deal."
"I-isn't it?" Papyrus nervously asked.
"Yeah it's alright bro," Sans said. "We are the only two monsters in town who knows about her. Not even old man Dunder knows she's a human."
"Oh…" Papyrus said and smiled nervously again. "That's g-good, I have so much I want to ask her but… gods, I need another smoke. Sans, where did you-?"
"Hey, Pappy?" Sans said. "Why won't you go downstairs and… cook some lunch for us?"
The tall skeleton monster's smile went away once more.
"Do I… have to?" he asked grumpily.
"Didn't we just eat?" Frisk asked.
"We ate breakfast," Sans said. "It's time for lunch."
"That was breakfast?" Frisk asked. "Man, I've completely lost track of time down here."
"You and many others," Sans said as he turned back to his brother. "Pappy?"
"Ugh, fine," Papyrus said grumpily. "I'll go make some food, but… you'll be the one to make dinner tonight then."
His smaller but older brother gave out a simple shrug.
"Deal," he said.
With that, the taller skeleton gave a quick look to his two guests before lazily going out the door.
"You're just gonna go to buy a burger for dinner, aren't you?" Frisk asked Sans, once his brother was out of earshot.
"Of course," the short skeleton answered. "Just don't tell Pappy about it."
"Who… is that?" Flowey asked in disbelief.
"Sorry?" Sans replied.
"That skeleton," Flowey added. "That's… that's not Papyrus. Papyrus would never be so lazy he'll refuse to cook, or hell, be a lazy bum like you in general."
"A lot of things have happened in the time you were gone," Sans said. "That old Papyrus you knew, well… he's changed."
"But… how?" Flowey asked. "What happened to him."
A look of unease fell upon the grinning skeleton, and he gave out a small sigh.
"That's a long, confusing story," Sans said. "I'll tell you about it during lunch."
A cloud of almost completely white smoke emerged from the kitchen, while Frisk, Flowey and Sans were sitting by the round dining table just in front of it. The tall skeleton was lazily stirring something in a pan with a spatula while lazily staring down at whatever he was cooking.
"Ok, you promised," Flowey said. "Now tell us, what in the world happened to him?"
"As I said, it's a long story," Sans began. "But since none of us are going anywhere the next few minutes, I might as well give you the abridged version."
He inhaled a small bit of air, which Frisk found strange to see a skeleton do, and then leaned a bit back in his chair.
"A few years ago," he began. "There was this… let's call it an event. I'm sure you remember how adventurous he used to be, flower. Back in the days when you "befriended" him."
"I wasn't that bad to him," Flowey said and rolled his eyes.
"Uh-huh," Sans simply said.
"But I do remember those days," Flowey added. "I remember the old Papyrus, fortunately, and yeah. He was… cheerful. Organized even, and with full of energy."
"I find it hard to imagine this guy being like that," Frisk said. "Erm, no offence."
"None taken," Sans said. "He was was pretty much a different person back then. Kinda the polar opposite of me in fact."
"Well, what happened to him then?" Frisk asked.
Sans didn't answer right away, but Frisk could see that he looked like his mind was wracked with thoughts on how to proceed.
"So like I said, there was this event taking place," the skeleton continued. "Some journey or expedition to someplace. Can't remember where though. But my bro, always the confident type, was obviously excited for it, for a chance for a proper adventure. And since you had disappeared, flower boy, my bro didn't really have that many friends. Thankfully, or at least what we thought was thankful, he managed to get himself… invited to this expedition."
"Was The Royal Hunt involved?" Flowey suddenly asked.
"I can't tell you that," Sans said.
"So they were," Frisk added. "Got it."
"Believe what you believe," Sans added. "So, long story short, this expedition was supposed to last about a weekend I think. If you could make it through those days, well, then you've won. Pappy and I were more than sure he could make it. Hell, maybe he'd even come on the absolute top. So when the day came, he put on his so-called "battle suit", which was his nickname for a personal knight costume he doesn't really remember the reason for making, and went with clear confidence of victory, and that this event would finally make him famous, as he always dreamed to be."
Sans took a short pause as if he was reflecting on something. Frisk took this moment to do so as well and was suddenly reminded of the pile of armour she saw thrown away into Papyrus' closet.
"And?" Flowey asked impatiently.
"My bro lasted only a few hours," Sans said. "The first night, he came home. I didn't recognize him at first. He was so… broken. Terrified even, as if his spirit had completely shattered somehow. Suffice to say, I had never seen him like this before."
"W-what happened to him?" Frisk asked nervously.
Sans shrugged.
"He never told me," Sans explained. "Just that it was something bad, to put it mildly. He had nightmares for weeks- no, months after that day. He barely left the house anymore, just stayed on his computer all day and night, and eventually, he even stopped caring about things like heroism or fame. The things he usually loved and kept him going. Said it all was just pointless. That everything was."
"So he became you?" Flowey asked snarkily.
"Heh, something like that," Sans replied. "But then one day, he found a way to get Baron's breath online. No idea how he found out about it, but I have some ideas. Most of them involving the internet. Oh, and I forgot to mention. Baron's breath is this new herbal drug that's been around here a few years."
"Yeah, I figured," Frisk said.
"It popped up not long after you went, Flowey," Sans continued. "At times, I even thought your disappearance was somehow related to the birth of that weed."
"I don't… I'm not sure weed is that addicting," Frisk said.
"Hmm?" Sans asked.
"Ok, I'm not an expert," Frisk continued. "Plus, I've never tried it but… well, from what I've heard, weed is kinda like alcohol. Yeah, it's bad but, not when it's like… regulated, if you understand me. I don't know. Maybe I'm not as knowledgable on this as I thought. At least your brother's not addicted to nicotine or, god forbid, meth or something."
"Well, I kinda see what you mean," Sans said. "A few problems though. My brother was… is a panicky mess, and he's easily addicted to things so he pretty much did, or does rather nothing but smoke it all day, every day. That's why most of the stuff in this house basically smells like that. Also, Baron's breath isn't like ordinary weed."
"In what way?" Frisk asked.
"It's… well, it has a bit of magic involved," Sans explained.
"Erm, do you mean literally or… like, metaphorically?" Frisk asked.
"A bit of both, I'd say," Sans said. "For one, it is made out of some magically mutated plants, or at least that's what I've read, and since magic is pretty much unstable and unpredictable by nature… well, add that with some already addicting substances and you have a ticking mental timebomb which we barely know the ramifications of, much less what it can do to your mind, which… I'm starting to feel that it's only making things worse for Papyrus in the long run."
"I see," Frisk said. "Erm, sorry about what I said I… I'm not sure if it was insensitive or not."
"Eh, no probs kiddo," Sans said and winked.
"Welp, the food is done!" Papyrus yelled lazily from the kitchen.
With that, the tall skeleton wandered into the kitchen, scratching his bum with one hand but holding in his other, oven mittened hand a plate of what seemed to resemble spaghetti. The taller brother then lazily placed the plate onto the dinner table and quickly sat down, looking like he was exhausted from such a relatively small task.
As Frisk expected, unfortunately, the pile of spaghetti being served looked very hastily made and dry, with a sickly green hue on its strands, some of which seemed barely cooked. There was also nothing else with it, no sauce, oil or even any hint of spice. The best thing Frisk could say about it that it at least looked like food, although a pretty undesirable one.
"Erm, what is that?" Flowey rudely asked.
"It's spaghetti," Papyrus said. "Since I got so little to do, I memorized a recipe online, but we were lacking some ingredients and I also made a few shortcuts here and there. Why? Does it not look good?"
"Oh, no- I mean yes," Frisk said awkwardly. "I mean it looks… delicious?"
"Really?" Flowey asked. "Because it looks like a diseased octopus."
"Don't knock it till you try it," Sans said.
With that said, he picked up his fork and scooped up a large pile of spaghetti onto his dish before cramming some of it in his mouth. He grimaced for a moment but kept chewing, clearly forcing it in.
"You're not eating kiddos?" he asked, mouth full of spaghetti.
"I'm not hungry," Frisk said.
"Yeah, we just ate, didn't we?" Flowey replied.
"Eh, your loss," Sans said. "More for us then."
He forced another mouthful up his mouth, and as Frisk watched, she began to wonder how he, a skeleton with no clear internal organs, was able to digest food in the first place, and half expected a pile of half-chewed spaghetti to start leaking down from under his clothes.
"Where does all it come from though?" Flowey asked. "The drugs I mean. Someone must be making it down here. Or at least profiting from it."
"Well," Sans began and swallowed the food in his mouth. "There is… one person that sells and makes pretty much all of the drugs down here. Thing is, no one knows who they are, or their name. But they have a nickname down here, so that helps."
"And that name is?" Frisk asked.
Sans chuckled suddenly and slowly shook his head with amusement.
"What?" Frisk asked, confused.
"Ok, kiddos," he began. "Are you ready for this? Because I don't think you're ready. The guy that makes most of the Baron's breath… they call him the… they call him The Kushmaster."
Frisk snorted in amusement from hearing that.
"Ok, but seriously, what is he actually called?" she then asked him.
"I just told you, kiddo," Sans said.
"Wait, really?" Frisk said.
She stared at the skeleton's constant grin, looking for any slip-up, anything that could hint at some deep layers of irony in his words. But she failed to find it, and as a result, she almost burst into laughter.
"Seriously?!" she asked in disbelief and amusement. "Kushmaster? That is like the dumbest name for a drug lord I've ever heard."
"Look, I didn't come up with that name, kiddo," Sans said, agreeing with her.
"W-what's wrong it?" Papyrus asked, confused.
"What's next?" Frisk asked cheekily. "Weed lord? Marijuana man?"
"No seriously, how is it bad?" Papyrus asked again.
"Maybe he has a cousin who owns a spy agency and is called The Hushmaster," Sans said.
Frisk snickered again.
"God, that was really stupid," she said.
"I know," Sans said.
"Wow, you actually laughed at that?" Flowey said to her.
"I know, I know," Frisk said, smiling. "I have a shit sense of humour sometimes."
"Geez, kiddo, anyone ever told you to watch your language?" Sans said cheekily.
"Oh come on," Frisk replied. "I'm 16 and a half years old. I'm pretty much legally allowed to swear."
"Hmm, fair point," Sans replied.
"Wait, you're 16?" Papyrus replied. "Wowie, how convenient. I'm around 16 as well. I think?"
"You're 16?" Frisk asked back, surprised. "Huh that… that actually explains some things."
"Like what?" Papyrus asked.
"Umm I… I don't know," Frisk said. "I might just be… saying nonsense right now. I do that sometimes. When I'm tired."
A moment of silence came upon the group as they all sat, thinking about one thing or another. For a while, the only sound in the vicinity was the clicking of Sans' and Papyrus' fork against the spaghetti covered plate.
"Welp, I think I am finally going to go to bed," Frisk said after a moment.
"Erm… isn't it just noon?" Papyrus asked.
"I didn't… I didn't sleep at all last night," Frisk said.
"Me neither," Flowey said. "In fact, I think I haven't slept in years. So to speak."
"You don't need an excuse if you ask me," Sans said. "I pretty much sleep all day, every other day."
"Then I'll… I think I will take a rest too," Papyrus added. "I didn't really get much sleep last night either."
"I noticed," Sans said. "Been spending once again too much time on the computer last night I reckon?"
Papyrus suddenly looked at him with an annoyed glint on his skull face, almost like he was insulted by what his brother said.
"Why?!" he asked, almost sounding angry. "Am I not allowed to do that either?!"
"Sorry, it was a joke, I… I didn't mean to insult you, bro," Sans said.
"Oh did you now?!" Papyrus said, louder. "Well, in that case, bro, that means you should at least have some resemblance of empathy somewhere in that braindead skull of yours and recognize that I can only go rest when I'm happy! You should know that if you are gonna take away my herbs and smokes, that the only thing left that would keep me busy then is the internet, so I will not let you take that from he as well!"
"P-Pappy, calm down I-" Sans began.
"Oh, I'm not gonna calm down!" Papyrus protested. "And I'm not even done! Wanna know why I'm insulted?! Because you act like you're above me while you're the one who's lived for years, boondoggling! You lived this sorry excuse of a lifestyle your whole adulthood, and if you take away my computer, you also take away the last thing that keeps me busy!"
"I'm not gonna take-" Sans attempted to say.
"And if you take away what keeps me busy and happy!" Papyrus continued. "Then… then… ok, you know what?! Fine! Take if you want! Take my herbs! Take my computer! Take away my gods dammed life if you want! I don't care anymore since you clearly don't care about me! In fact, no one does! I even went through the trouble of making you all dinner but you ingrates can't even appreciate that!"
"N-no, it's good, your cooking is great!" Frisk said.
"You haven't even tasted it yet," Papyrus said to her sternly.
"Well… it's the thought that counts right?" Flowey said.
"Says you," Papyrus said grumpily. "You who abandoned me many years ago for no reason, and were gone when I needed you the most, my "best friend". Where was the thought then eh? Where was it?"
Papyrus then shut his mouth and grumpily crossed his arms.
"Whatever," he said. "I'm going to my room now. I'm tired."
With that, he stood up from his chair and stomped angrily up the steps to his room. After he shut the door, there came a peaceful quietness to the rest of the house. Not one of the trio did anything. Just sat by the table, still like time itself had stopped.
"Jesus," Frisk said after a moment.
"Well now," Flowey said. "Never seen him get that bad."
"Yeah, he does that sometimes," Sans said. "Gets real cranky after he hasn't had one of his smokes for a while."
"Yeah…" Frisk said. "I get it. I get it."
About a half an hour later, Frisk and Flowey, reluctantly, went to rest in Papyrus' room. Sans had strangely enough refused to let them sleep in his room, and once Frisk suggested the couch, he also didn't recommend the living room on the account that some insects that had apparently taken a nest in one or two hidden places. But he assured the duo that Papyrus was most likely asleep at this point, and as it turned out, he was right. They all peeked quietly into his room and saw him, deep in sleep, in his car bed, with his eyesockets shut tight like eyelids.
Sans had then helped her with an old dusty sleeping bag he owned and an old flower pot for Flowey. Once they quietly found a good spot, Frisk gave her thanks to the skeleton before he closed the door on them. Once Flowey had adjusted himself in his pot, she lay down on the sleeping bag to finally end her quest for a nap. Or at least, she attempted to, for almost an hour later, Frisk was still awake. Strangely enough, she couldn't sleep, now that she was finally there. For the most part, she just stared up at the white, cracked ceiling, while her companion was presumably long fallen asleep in his flower pot at the corner.
While she silently stared at the ceiling, Frisk began to think once again. To ponder on this day she just had. All of this still felt unreal. Everything did, from the tall skeleton brother who snored softly on his car bed, and even the simple breeze that came from a small crack in the window. She wasn't sure she would even fully grasp this world, not for a very long time.
After a while, she turned to look at the tall, snoring skeleton monster. Besides his calm breathing, he was almost unmistakable from a corpse. Not only that, but he now looked like a completely different monster, with not a single hint of his previous anxiety or depression. He even seemed to smile a bit in his sleep, like he was once the happiest and most optimistic skeleton in the underground. A speck from his cheerful past, much like the pile of discarded armour in his closet, that only surfaced once he was in peace and slumber.
Or maybe she is overthinking this, Frisk thought. But then again, Flowey did say that he used to be different. What could've happened then, Frisk wondered. What was this event that changed him so much? And what was he like, once upon a time? Those questions added more questions, and those questions kept her awake even longer.
Eventually, these bothersome thoughts became hard to ignore, and so Frisk turned around to ask her companion about them. Assuming he was awake like her that is.
"Hey, Flo-" she whispered.
She stopped in her word once she saw it. The pot was empty, and once she turned to her open pink bag, it was empty as well, like something or someone had conjured her companion away. Frisk felt a tinge of fear grab her chest and grow within her, as it dawned on her she was alone in this unfamiliar world.
"Flowey?" she whispered nervously.
Suddenly, she heard the sound of a familiar voice nearby in the room grunting. She turned towards it, and once she saw him, her worries quickly faded. Her companion was crawling on the floor with his many vines, like a small octopus learning to walk.
"Gah… finally," Flowey said. "Hey Frisk, look. I can walk again. Or, erm, crawl rather."
"Jesus," Frisk said. "Scared me there for a minute, Flowey."
"Aww, you missed me already?" Flowey asked cheekily.
"Oh, shut up," Frisk said and smiled.
"Ungh, well… it's still not perfect," Flowey said. "Still hurts a bit. Feels like I'm stretching my insides a bit. Gods. Is this what having bones is like? Kinda miss what's that's- er… sorry. I meant I kinda wish I knew what it was like."
Frisk snorted a bit then turned to look at the ceiling again.
"You're not missing much," she said to him.
"Noticed you're not asleep," Flowey said and stopped right beside her. "Is there… something wrong or…?"
"I can't sleep," Frisk admitted.
"Really?" Flowey replied, sounding like Frisk just grew a second head. "Weren't you going on about these past few hours just how tired you were?"
"It's… not that," Frisk answered.
"Hmm," Flowey replied. "Alright, I see. Scared about having another nightmare again, aren't you?"
"No, I mean-" Frisk began.
She stopped herself mid-sentence as she realized she had no idea why she would want to hide it from him. Was she scared? Of what? To embarrass herself? In that case, what was there to be embarrassed about.
"Alright, yeah, I am," she admitted to him. "I know it's weird but…"
"Nah it's fine," Flowey said. "I mean, I told you that I think most fears are illogical. Doesn't mean don't get it. I mean, it's not like I'm not scared of anything myself. Everyone is."
"Hmm," Frisk said. "So.. what are you scared of."
Flowey went silent for a few moments.
"Sorry," Frisk said. "Shouldn't have asked."
"Oh, no it's fine," Flowey said. "I'm scared of many things. Some logical things, like death or danger, and some… not so logical things you could say."
"Like what?" Frisk asked curiously.
"It's… silly," Flowey said.
"I'll try not to laugh," Frisk reassured.
"Well…" Flowey said with a sense of embarrassment. "Erm, for example… I'm scared of… c-clowns."
"Clowns?" Frisk said back and chuckled lightly.
"Hey you promised not to laugh," Flowey said, mildly insulted.
"I said I'd try not to I… sorry," Frisk said, unable to stop her smile. "I'm sorry. I'm kinda shit at keeping promises."
"Uh-huh," Flowey replied.
"It's fine though," Frisk added. "Lot's of people are scared of clowns. I don't think that makes you any… lesser, if that makes sense."
"Hmm," Flowey said. "Honestly I'm… not that insulted. In fact, I kinda expected this reaction from you, to be honest."
"Oh, am I that much of an ass?" Frisk cheekily asked.
"Heh, kinda," Flowey answered cheekily with a smile. "But your turn now. What are you scared of? Besides the obvious that is."
"Hmm," Frisk said, thinking. "Well… I think spiders a kinda creepy in a way. Not in a big way, mind you, but enough that I sometimes feel uncomfortable when I'm around them."
"Well, that ain't that silly if you'd ask me," Flowey said. "Spiders can get pretty weird down here."
"God, don't tell me," Frisk said. "But then there is also that Mickey guy, whom… I haven't met yet but… you heard the story. Why wouldn't I be scared of that?"
"Ehh, no surprises there," Flowey said.
"Do you think it's true?" Frisk asked him. "The story that the old bird said. I mean, Sans seemed pretty fazed by it. And he clearly knows something about Mickey. More than we at least."
"I… I don't know," Flowey said. "Let's just… let's just worry about that later."
"Yeah, maybe," Frisk said.
"So is that all your fears?" Flowey asked.
"Hmm, no," Frisk answered. "There is more, obviously. Not sure which of it scares me the most though. But… if I had to pick something, then I guess it would be… it would be…"
She stopped in her words and stared at the ceiling, unable to think properly anymore. It was like countless ideas flew in her head, yet she was unable to grasp a single one.
"It would be what?" Flowey pried.
Frisk, unable to think of a satisfying answer, just shrugged and said the first thing that popped up in her head.
"Just… everything I guess," she said.
"Everything as in… literally everything?" Flowey pried.
"Everything as in… I… I'm not sure," Frisk said. "I think it was just a poor choice of words on my part. But… I guess what I'm saying is that… what I'm most scared of… are just the things I don't understand, which I realized now could be… everything."
"Like Gaster?" Flowey asked.
"Erm, yeah, maybe," Frisk said. "Like Gaster, I guess. But… I don't think it's just him though, whoever, or whatever, he is. I think, or at least my fears from my dream of him might just be a… symptom. A part of something bigger I'm much more scared to face. Like the idea that… despite everything… I know nothing. I never will. And every time I think I've figured it out, life throws a wrench at me and it's like the whole of reality comes crumbling down. Suddenly, I have to quickly adapt to these new changes, these new things that shouldn't make sense but… now they do. And if I don't adapt I… I may just… lose my mind. Or something like that. I don't know. I guess I'm just… rambling now."
"Hmm," Flowey said, in thought.
Another silence came between them. This one felt more reminiscent of the silence that often occurred back at the bar. A silence of unease and discomfort, which Frisk felt herself to blame for, this time. Mostly, she just said the first thoughts that came to her head, even if they perhaps weren't correct her thoughts, so to speak. She wasn't sure. She wasn't sure of anything anymore. After a while of this silence, her companion was the first to break it.
"Well now," he said. "That was… therapeutic. I think."
"Sorry about that," Frisk said. "I kinda went into a bit of a tangent there."
"You shouldn't be," Flowey said. "It was a nice talk. But also, you really don't need to apologize so often. No offence."
"Oh, sorry I- god," Frisk said. "Man, now that you mention it. I guess I do have a habit of-"
There came a loud sound of glass breaking outside, and Frisk quickly rose up in shock.
"What was that?" she whispered.
"I dunno," Flowey said. "Hopefully just some mishaps outside."
Frisk turned to look at the window from her point as if she could see from her distance what it was. Then, there came another crash followed by the sounds of some panicked townsfolk. Papyrus now rustled uneasily in his bed.
"Mm, what's… going on," he said, half-asleep.
"I'm gonna go take a look," Flowey said.
He crawled with his vines towards the window, and then once he was under it, he extended his vines upwards and pulled himself up onto the windowsill.
"What do you see?" Frisk asked nervously. "What is happening out there?"
"This is… weird," Flowey said, looking out with his eyes crossed. "It seems like everyone is in a hurry for some reason, or like they're… trying to hide from something."
"Like… what?" Frisk asked.
Before Flowey could answer, the door to the room burst open, which made Frisk almost jump out from her makeshift bed. Thankfully, once her momentary shock faded, she saw that it was just Sans who came rushing in.
"Hey kiddos," he said with a subtle tone of emergency. "Erm… bad news. I need to move you, kids, to someplace else for the time being. Somewhere more hidden."
"W-why?" Frisk asked. "What's going on out there."
"We just got a late message from the capital," Sans explained. "And by we, I mean us Snowdin folk. It's Mickey. And The Royal Hunt. They are on their way here, to Snowdin. And they're about to arrive in just a few minutes."
Author's note:
Poor Papyrus, how the mighty fall.
Anyway, so I mentioned in my last notes that I was planning to finish and release this chapter before the end of April, but then I hit a wall of sorts before I could finish. Well, that wall is called Papyrus. As you can see, he has certainly changed from his UT Prime counterpart(despite this AU being very similar to that), and a big part of that is due to what happened in the old prequel story I wrote some time ago, "A hunt to Remember", which is also about this "event" that Sans mentioned. The one that changed him, and not for the better, if you'd ask me(and if you are gonna go type in the comments:"b-but Sans said that Papyrus never told him what happened, even though he clearly did in the prequel story, this continuity error makes this fic oBJectIVLy bad" To that I say to you, my handsome strawman I clearly didn't just make up in my head: "I know." Sans is just lying to Frisk and Flowey here) But like I said, I am probably going to do a soft reboot of that prequel story sometime in the future, because to be honest, I am not that big fan of it anymore and it doesn't vibe as well with the rest of the AU.
Anyway, trying to handle Papyrus' PTSD from that "event" proved to be quite a challenge, and I really tried to portray it in the best possible way. I even went online to look it up, where I learned that most people don't suffer PTSD the same way, so... yeah. I just really hope I did it justice.
The next chapter, as you can tell, will be a bit more exciting with even more mysteries to follow. I will also be introducing several new characters, some more or less important than others, and most of these characters will be brand new, with no relation or appearance in UT Prime. But it might be a while before that chapter, so enough chatter and I'll see you soon. Hopefully.