This a sideblog for Pencenary, a Papyrus from a SF universe. The blog features IC blogstyle and para f2f (Face-to-face) roleplay. Must be 18 or older to interact, follows back from caramelpears.
The purple-hued skeleton jolts awake, raising his head slightly in order to peer past his slipper-clad feet. In front of him, he can see Sans, clad in his armor, glaring down at him with hands planted on either hip.
“FOR THAT MATTER, WHY ARE YOU UNDERGROUND? I DIDN’T GO TO THE HASSLE OF SECURING A HOUSE ON THE SURFACE JUST SO YOU COULD SPEND YOUR TIME SLEEPING AT YOUR OLD GUARD POST!”
He winces at the volume, rubbing his left eye with a groan, wishing that he’d imbibed a little less alcohol the night before. His brother’s voice was as loud and grating as a metal desk being dragged across a gravel pit.
“Dog unit started howling. Down here was quiet. That enough of an explanation for you, or should I find something else to qualify as an ‘excuse’?”
Papyrus stretches languidly, fingers linked together as his arms reach over his head, shoulders, spine, elbows and knuckles cracking one after the other, sounding not unlike walnut shells breaking thanks to a nutcracker.
He gets the pleasure of watching his brother shudder at the sound.
“STOP THAT!
NOW, WHEN YOU’RE DONE WASTING TIME, QUEEN TORIEL HAS ORDERED THE ROYAL GUARD TO PATROL THE BOUNDARIES WE’VE ESTABLISHED AROUND MOUNT EBOTT. GETTING TO THE SURFACE WAS ONE THING, MAINTAINING OUR POSITION IS ANOTHER. IF WE LET UP OUR ASSAULT, THE HUMANS WILL PUSH US BACK.”
Papyrus rolls his eyes.
“And you want me on the front lines, I suppose.”
“NO. YOUR HEALTH IS ABYSMAL. YOU MAY HAVE AN UNCANNY TALENT FOR DODGING MOST THINGS SENT YOUR WAY, BUT I WON’T HAVE YOU DUSTING DUE TO CARELESSNESS AMONG THE RANKS, OR DUE TO A LUCKY SHOT FROM THE ENEMY SIDE.”
San’s words get a weary chuckle in response.
“Glad to hear you care, bro.”
“SOMEONE HAS TO CARE ABOUT YOU, SINCE YOU DON’T CARE ABOUT YOURSELF. LOOK AT YOU. YOU SMELL LIKE A BOTTLE RECYCLING BIN AND YOUR CLOTHES ARE RUMPLED. WHAT DID YOU DO LAST NIGHT, DRINK YOURSELF INTO A STUPOR AND PASS OUT?”
“Spot on guess, bro. But you missed ‘smoked a bag of weed’.”
“UGH.”
Sans kicks the guard stand, and the jolt makes Papyrus wince, his head aching from the sway of his vision. “GET UP. IF YOU’RE NOT GOING TO MAKE USE OF OUR HOME ON THE SURFACE, YOU’RE GOING TO UTILIZE THE HOUSE WE STILL HAVE DOWN HERE.
FEED YOURSELF, SHOWER, AND BE AT THE MOUNTAIN’S EXIT IN AN HOURS TIME, OR I WILL COME AND DRAG YOU UP THERE MYSELF.”
“Alright, alright. Just----yell a little quieter.”
Sans opens his mouth, but pauses at seeing the wretched, squinty-eyed expression on his older brothers face as he tacks a word onto his sentence.
“Please?”
After a rather long moment, in which Papyrus shamelessly plays up his sick-kitten act, complete with exaggerated groans of pain while clutching his head, Sans would heave a sigh, rubbing at a space between his eye-sockets.
“-----FINE. But I mean it, Papyrus. One hour. Make yourself presentable and meet me at the Mountain cave exit. We have a meeting with Alphys and the Queen, to discuss what our next military action will be.”
With that, Sans turns, and marches off, heading to the rock bridge leading to Snowdin. After that, it would be an hour’s trek to cross the underground.
Papyrus heaves a sigh of his own as he ekes himself out from the old outpost, slouching his way through the path in the snow that San’s had made.
In an hours time, he would be ‘contributing’ to the war effort by spying on distant places with a set of binoculars from the top of Mount Ebott. A ‘good’ use of his observational skills and sixth sense for dangerous situations --- though Alphys found it to be a waste, considering his combat capabilities.
At the step to his house, he would pause, glancing off towards Waterfall, at the snow-covered path that ran alongside the river. It was only a year ago that he’d spent a few days talking with the human that had fallen into the underground, getting them to lower their guard and ‘play nice’ with Sans.
They offered Friendship, and Sans answered in kind with a hail of bones.
The poor kid didn’t stand a chance.
They were the seventh soul---the one required to break the barrier.
They’re out of the underground, and Sans has gotten to see the sky, gotten to see real stars, instead of rocks on a cavern ceiling. Papyrus just hates that he had to throw his own moral code into the dirt to make it happen.
“Things’ll be calmer now that the war is over,” he murmurs, shutting the door behind himself, heading upstairs to get himself ‘cleaned up’ for the day.
It had taken a year to start the war. And hoping it would end after they secured the mountains for themselves had been a foolish hope.
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