OCTOBER 1ST [It's startling to wake up in an unfamiliar bed, for multiple reasons. There's the part where he woke up, despite not remembering going to sleep - last he recalls, hadn't he been looking around the Ruins for the source of that child-like and presumably human voice...? There's the part where he doesn't recognize the room he's in, either, or the face of the person in the other bed. And most of all... Well, he shrieks a little.]
Is this... skin?!?
[He doesn't recognize his own hands. And not just because there's no gloves on them - the arms extending from them are definitely not bone! At least the pajamas look like a thing he would own, but he's too busy trying to back up into his headboard, away from his own hand, to really appreciate that.]
THIS IS NOT MY BEAUTIFUL HOUSE - THIS IS AUNT MYRNA'S PARTY CHEESE SALAD [It takes some panicking, talking with the other confused residents, and getting dressed before Papyrus begins exploring this new house and beyond. He finds his reflection in a mirror quickly enough, plays with the curly hair and discovers how it hurts when tugged at. Encounters photo after photo documenting a life he has no memory of, with this face over and over, yet his own name (partly) on the mailbox.
And every day the TV shows this commercial without any sign of familiar MTT Brand jingles or logos, and yet... There's skeletons in it, dancing as freely as you like. Why does the TV have skeletons, but he's here looking all... human? Before he can even contemplate the injustice of it for long there's a knock at the door, and another human lady with a smile and an apron and a mysterious moldsmal in hand.]
Oh, thank you, but I'm not looking to adopt.
[There is maybe a tiny misunderstanding happening here.]
DON'T WORRY, OFFICER - I HAVE A LICENSE. [There's still a lot of strangeness about waking up in this secluded surface town, but there are some clear upsides with it. There's a car in the garage, and Papyrus Knochenmus has a driver's license. It's right in his wallet, with a picture of that very human face.
It sure didn't come with any particular grasp of how to drive, and his understanding of it is largely theoretical, what with coming from an underground kingdom where even travel by boat is erratic and his only exposure to cars was in movies and dreams.
But that's not about to stop the new, (improved???) human Papyrus with his slicked back hair and red convertible. Slowly, like a teenager learning to parallel park for the first time, he makes his way down the neighborhood street. Veering a little too close to more than a couple mailboxes, as it turns out driving like people in the movies, with constantly turning the wheel hither and yon, isn't a great idea.
Fortunately, he's going at a slow enough speed that he can dodge the suddenly appearing mailboxes, and onlookers can feel free to keep pace and offer encouragements, criticism, or other opinions on his driving.]
ALWAYS RESPECT THE HOLIDAY TRADITIONS - (network and/or in-person)
[If nothing else, Papyrus is a studious stickler for The Rules (except for the times he chooses to blatantly disregard them. This time is no exception, as holiday traditions and decor are important. He has no problem crafting quite a few jack-o-lanterns through the month and leaving them lit all night, trying to play along with the Joneses for the most decorated yard.
So it's his "family's" good fortune, when their house is an impenetrable fortress of little pumpkin-sheltered candles come Halloween. Yet that does only so much good, when the TV's volume only goes up to 5, but he can hear screaming somewhere in the neighborhood. Has somebody gone customizing their device for greater sound output? Or, could something be... wrong?]
"Uhhhh. Does anybody else hear screaming?? Is someone pulling a prank?"
[Everyone's wrist radios - wherever they've been left - crackle with questions as he heads out into the yard, peering around the neighborhood in search of whatever's going on. If it's just a customized TV he'll want to know who to ask to fix his up, and if it's a prank, well, who doesn't enjoy an audience to a good prank? And if it's not either of those... Maybe someone should be on hand to call for help.]
WILDCARD [Got an idea for another top level, like mingling at the block party, helping with his inevitable car repairs, going for a hike and definitely not an escape attempt into the mountains, or other household shenanigans? Message me or pm me at swirlingflight and we can brainstorm a little!
Also, feel free to respond with prose or action as you prefer, I will match style.]
Papyrus (the other former skeleton) | Undertale | OTA
[It's startling to wake up in an unfamiliar bed, for multiple reasons. There's the part where he woke up, despite not remembering going to sleep - last he recalls, hadn't he been looking around the Ruins for the source of that child-like and presumably human voice...? There's the part where he doesn't recognize the room he's in, either, or the face of the person in the other bed. And most of all... Well, he shrieks a little.]
Is this... skin?!?
[He doesn't recognize his own hands. And not just because there's no gloves on them - the arms extending from them are definitely not bone! At least the pajamas look like a thing he would own, but he's too busy trying to back up into his headboard, away from his own hand, to really appreciate that.]
THIS IS NOT MY BEAUTIFUL HOUSE - THIS IS AUNT MYRNA'S PARTY CHEESE SALAD
[It takes some panicking, talking with the other confused residents, and getting dressed before Papyrus begins exploring this new house and beyond. He finds his reflection in a mirror quickly enough, plays with the curly hair and discovers how it hurts when tugged at. Encounters photo after photo documenting a life he has no memory of, with this face over and over, yet his own name (partly) on the mailbox.
And every day the TV shows this commercial without any sign of familiar MTT Brand jingles or logos, and yet... There's skeletons in it, dancing as freely as you like. Why does the TV have skeletons, but he's here looking all... human? Before he can even contemplate the injustice of it for long there's a knock at the door, and another human lady with a smile and an apron and a mysterious moldsmal in hand.]
Oh, thank you, but I'm not looking to adopt.
[There is maybe a tiny misunderstanding happening here.]
DON'T WORRY, OFFICER - I HAVE A LICENSE.
[There's still a lot of strangeness about waking up in this secluded surface town, but there are some clear upsides with it. There's a car in the garage, and Papyrus Knochenmus has a driver's license. It's right in his wallet, with a picture of that very human face.
It sure didn't come with any particular grasp of how to drive, and his understanding of it is largely theoretical, what with coming from an underground kingdom where even travel by boat is erratic and his only exposure to cars was in movies and dreams.
But that's not about to stop the new, (improved???) human Papyrus with his slicked back hair and red convertible. Slowly, like a teenager learning to parallel park for the first time, he makes his way down the neighborhood street. Veering a little too close to more than a couple mailboxes, as it turns out driving like people in the movies, with constantly turning the wheel hither and yon, isn't a great idea.
Fortunately, he's going at a slow enough speed that he can dodge the suddenly appearing mailboxes, and onlookers can feel free to keep pace and offer encouragements, criticism, or other opinions on his driving.]
ALWAYS RESPECT THE HOLIDAY TRADITIONS - (network and/or in-person)
[If nothing else, Papyrus is a studious stickler for The Rules (except for the times he chooses to blatantly disregard them. This time is no exception, as holiday traditions and decor are important. He has no problem crafting quite a few jack-o-lanterns through the month and leaving them lit all night, trying to play along with the Joneses for the most decorated yard.
So it's his "family's" good fortune, when their house is an impenetrable fortress of little pumpkin-sheltered candles come Halloween. Yet that does only so much good, when the TV's volume only goes up to 5, but he can hear screaming somewhere in the neighborhood. Has somebody gone customizing their device for greater sound output? Or, could something be... wrong?]
"Uhhhh. Does anybody else hear screaming?? Is someone pulling a prank?"
[Everyone's wrist radios - wherever they've been left - crackle with questions as he heads out into the yard, peering around the neighborhood in search of whatever's going on. If it's just a customized TV he'll want to know who to ask to fix his up, and if it's a prank, well, who doesn't enjoy an audience to a good prank? And if it's not either of those... Maybe someone should be on hand to call for help.]
WILDCARD
[Got an idea for another top level, like mingling at the block party, helping with his inevitable car repairs, going for a hike and definitely not an escape attempt into the mountains, or other household shenanigans? Message me or pm me at
Also, feel free to respond with prose or action as you prefer, I will match style.]