With cold snow the only thing left supporting his skull, Papyrus could feel the cracks spreading from the inside of his bones outward and the magic that forms his body seeping invisibly into the ether. It took every ounce of his fading strength to speak his conviction. He still believes..! A promise, a truth that he had to hold onto in order to stave off the fear with the world ebbing towards a nothingness around him as he turned to dust.
He has to, or else...Sans... . . .
Out of the pitch black devoid of thought and sensation, he wakes with a sudden instinctual alarm seizing his SOUL. The resulting jolt rocks him and causes his bones to clatter with a gasp. The vague aftertaste of panic and terror linger in the stillness as he stares upward through his dark eye sockets into something bright - so bright he needs a moment and still can hardly recognize the color of blue. With...white fog patches?
Puzzled, he turns his head to begin taking in his surroundings as the faint rattling of his bones starts to gradually diminish. The motion of his head is immediately halted again as the cervical vertebrae catch awkwardly with a pinch of soreness. Without thought, Papyrus reaches a gloved hand to his neck and touches the maligned segment to - ...wait. His neck? He has one?! Full awareness of his form rushes in as he realizes his body is once more whole. Shuffling up to one elbow, he peers down to see for himself, staring in disbelief. Every bone is there. Despite the pain, despite the disintegration of his body, despite the slip into nothingness that followed, Papyrus is entirely and unmistakably alive.
For some reason however, his very cool battle body is no longer with him. His current clothing is not like any worn in the Underground, but he has to appreciate the tailoring, especially when it goes so well with his red scarf. As his gaze travels over the new attire covering his skeletal frame, he becomes acutely aware of something else; a weight in his other hand that tugs at his SOUL for attention in eager whispers. Lifting it close to his chest, Papyrus opens his gloved hand, and is quite surprised to find himself holding a round object no larger than a duck's egg. It looks like a rough, grey stone with flecks of clear crystal covered in a mixture of moss and frost, but the appearance does not detract from the eager greeting of something shifting excitedly inside the shell. Instinctively, the sentry sits up fully to cup the egg in both gloved hands and keep it from rolling out of his palms as it rocks and wiggles side to side. For all that excitement he can feel bubbling inside, a chuckle slips out through a smile.
"WOWIE...YOU SURE CAN MOVE! MOST OF THE ROCKS I HAVE MET CAN ONLY SLIDE A LITTLE."
No, that doesn't seem right after saying it. He hums thoughtfully as he lowers his brows, "OR...MAYBE YOU'RE NOT A ROCK? ...NO, YOU ARE SOMETHING ELSE. SOMETHING GREAT!"
That much decided if nothing more, he looks further from himself. He would very much like to help this not-a-rock, but he has to figure a few things out. For starters, where in the caverns has he ended up that has such a high, bright ceiling? He really needs to get back to Snowdin so he can let his brother know he is alright! There is no snow, magma, or water around him, only stone and dirt under him in a narrow alley between a pair of buildings. Maybe someplace beyond New Home? He can hear other voices outside the shaded space, and with any luck, someone out there can tell him which direction is homeward.
Gathering himself, he keeps both hands curled protectively around the egg as he tries to ease up to his feet without moving his stiff neck too much. A wobble tests his balance as he rises to his full height, but he manages to lean against the wall briefly instead of toppling over. Huh, lightheaded. Not the lightest it has been, but it makes his skull feel funny. As soon as that wash of blurry sensation fades, he steps away from the wall and towards the bustle of monsters he has never met before.
It is not until a few hours after that Papyrus has managed to get a loose grasp on the situation into which he has fallen after speaking to different residents and finding his way to the Discovery guild. This is the city of Haven, which is located on the surface, not under Mount Ebott and further than any place he could have imagined from the Underground. The idea of being on the surface had been so exciting to learn he had momentarily turned to try to make sure that Sans heard!- only to feel a pang in his ribcage. Still, more information was given that he had been summoned by magic like the other Scions. It meant there is a chance Sans could come here as well - and, most importantly, without harm. His brother is just very lazy, and Papyrus will have to be patient. He is not alone however, as his not-a-rock is in fact an egg, and within it is a special creature linked to him that will help him heal this world.
Somehow.
Contemplating the reality of his situation, Papyrus had wandered back down through the city and has come to sit out of the way on a set of stairs within the lower half of the city. His anima egg is calm where it rests tucked securely into his scarf. From this particular step, between the buildings stacked on the slope of the mountain, he can watch the ships at the docks and gaze beyond them to the sparkling waves of the sea in the afternoon light. In one hand he holds a compass, and his thumb idly slides back and forth over one edge slowly as he gets used to the presence of this new tool on which he will need to rely.
Starting over again... It will be hard, yet he is here for a reason, and the Great Papyrus will not ignore that call.
Arrival
He has to, or else...Sans... . . .
Out of the pitch black devoid of thought and sensation, he wakes with a sudden instinctual alarm seizing his SOUL. The resulting jolt rocks him and causes his bones to clatter with a gasp. The vague aftertaste of panic and terror linger in the stillness as he stares upward through his dark eye sockets into something bright - so bright he needs a moment and still can hardly recognize the color of blue. With...white fog patches?
Puzzled, he turns his head to begin taking in his surroundings as the faint rattling of his bones starts to gradually diminish. The motion of his head is immediately halted again as the cervical vertebrae catch awkwardly with a pinch of soreness. Without thought, Papyrus reaches a gloved hand to his neck and touches the maligned segment to - ...wait. His neck? He has one?! Full awareness of his form rushes in as he realizes his body is once more whole. Shuffling up to one elbow, he peers down to see for himself, staring in disbelief. Every bone is there. Despite the pain, despite the disintegration of his body, despite the slip into nothingness that followed, Papyrus is entirely and unmistakably alive.
For some reason however, his very cool battle body is no longer with him. His current clothing is not like any worn in the Underground, but he has to appreciate the tailoring, especially when it goes so well with his red scarf. As his gaze travels over the new attire covering his skeletal frame, he becomes acutely aware of something else; a weight in his other hand that tugs at his SOUL for attention in eager whispers. Lifting it close to his chest, Papyrus opens his gloved hand, and is quite surprised to find himself holding a round object no larger than a duck's egg. It looks like a rough, grey stone with flecks of clear crystal covered in a mixture of moss and frost, but the appearance does not detract from the eager greeting of something shifting excitedly inside the shell. Instinctively, the sentry sits up fully to cup the egg in both gloved hands and keep it from rolling out of his palms as it rocks and wiggles side to side. For all that excitement he can feel bubbling inside, a chuckle slips out through a smile.
"WOWIE...YOU SURE CAN MOVE! MOST OF THE ROCKS I HAVE MET CAN ONLY SLIDE A LITTLE."
No, that doesn't seem right after saying it. He hums thoughtfully as he lowers his brows, "OR...MAYBE YOU'RE NOT A ROCK? ...NO, YOU ARE SOMETHING ELSE. SOMETHING GREAT!"
That much decided if nothing more, he looks further from himself. He would very much like to help this not-a-rock, but he has to figure a few things out. For starters, where in the caverns has he ended up that has such a high, bright ceiling? He really needs to get back to Snowdin so he can let his brother know he is alright! There is no snow, magma, or water around him, only stone and dirt under him in a narrow alley between a pair of buildings. Maybe someplace beyond New Home? He can hear other voices outside the shaded space, and with any luck, someone out there can tell him which direction is homeward.
Gathering himself, he keeps both hands curled protectively around the egg as he tries to ease up to his feet without moving his stiff neck too much. A wobble tests his balance as he rises to his full height, but he manages to lean against the wall briefly instead of toppling over. Huh, lightheaded. Not the lightest it has been, but it makes his skull feel funny. As soon as that wash of blurry sensation fades, he steps away from the wall and towards the bustle of monsters he has never met before.
It is not until a few hours after that Papyrus has managed to get a loose grasp on the situation into which he has fallen after speaking to different residents and finding his way to the Discovery guild. This is the city of Haven, which is located on the surface, not under Mount Ebott and further than any place he could have imagined from the Underground. The idea of being on the surface had been so exciting to learn he had momentarily turned to try to make sure that Sans heard!- only to feel a pang in his ribcage. Still, more information was given that he had been summoned by magic like the other Scions. It meant there is a chance Sans could come here as well - and, most importantly, without harm. His brother is just very lazy, and Papyrus will have to be patient. He is not alone however, as his not-a-rock is in fact an egg, and within it is a special creature linked to him that will help him heal this world.
Somehow.
Contemplating the reality of his situation, Papyrus had wandered back down through the city and has come to sit out of the way on a set of stairs within the lower half of the city. His anima egg is calm where it rests tucked securely into his scarf. From this particular step, between the buildings stacked on the slope of the mountain, he can watch the ships at the docks and gaze beyond them to the sparkling waves of the sea in the afternoon light. In one hand he holds a compass, and his thumb idly slides back and forth over one edge slowly as he gets used to the presence of this new tool on which he will need to rely.
Starting over again... It will be hard, yet he is here for a reason, and the Great Papyrus will not ignore that call.