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Lostale Chapter 1 - The First Descent
Summary - Somehow, your soul has wandered into the Undertale universe; it probably happened when you lost your grip on life. Now you’re stuck in a land of monsters, trapped by a magic barrier and unending time loops.
You know the story, the people (monsters) surrounding you; you know how to save them, and how easily you can die. It’s a good thing you don’t really care about living then, isn’t it? …Perhaps not, because it’s that lack of determination that let’s Flowey remain in control of the resets. You can’t quite muster up the necessary emotion to save, or load, or even reset; sometimes, you feel that there’s just a void where your heart once was.
First Flowey, then Toriel, and all the rest of the monsters whose paths you cross… they’re slowly forcing you to face the real world. Something about the Underground is inspiring feelings in you, the feeling that there’s something you can do. It’s giving you the ability to care, to joke, to laugh, to cry… After all - the barrier doesn’t care if you can save. You have a human soul - the seventh soul that the monsters need to break free.
Trigger warnings for breakdowns, depression, very slight suicidal thoughts.
You were lying down, fading in and out of consciousness, when you suddenly realized that the world had changed. The numbing fog faded slightly as you tried to figure out what it was – what had just pulled you out of your fugue. You could remember lying in your bed, darkness – dark, darker, and even darker blackness – and someone’s laughter… You didn’t really care, though. You just wanted to go back to oblivion, let yourself fade away…
You sat up; you stood up. You couldn’t keep lying down – something was calling out to you. Your ears were ringing from the silence as you shambled forwards, not really looking around. This wasn’t your room, nor did it even look like a room at all. You stopped just before you stepped on some grass.
In confusion, you looked down and stared blankly at the greenery. What was grass doing in front of you? You hadn’t been outside to see grass since… since…
“Howdy!” You want to snap your head up to see who’s talking, but you can’t bring yourself to muster the energy. Instead, you keep staring at the grass… and the weird yellow flower that popped up out of it. Huh. That’s enough to stir your interest despite yourself, and you focus on the oddity.
“My name’s Flowey. Flowey the Flower!” Flowey’s head bobbed on his stem as he talked, and a giant grin spread across his yellow face. You stare blankly for a moment, before you realize why you aren’t surprised. You used to play a video game with a Flowey in it. You remember liking the game; you remember loving it and going over everything about it you could find. You could remember reading stories, imagining stories, imagining yourself suddenly in this world…
But right now, you couldn’t muster up the energy to care. “Hi, Flowey,” you mutter tonelessly. It was an automatic response, and it was easier to say it than to ignore it.
The flower gazed at you for several long seconds, probably analyzing you and trying to predict how you’d act. You didn’t really know how you’d continue reacting – if you’d continue reacting before retreating back into yourself – so you wished him luck. “Golly, aren’t you polite! You sure seem pretty tired…” You shrug; it’s true. About all you can feel now is how tired you are. “Well, I can help you go to sleep!”
Your lips twitch upwards slightly as you guess at what he actually means. He’s probably going to send you off into eternal sleep. You think about running away, distracting him by talking, dodging when he attacks… doing nothing and letting him kill you. That…sounds kind of nice, actually. Maybe you should let him help you?
Flowey sways happily on his stem, apparently not too put out about not getting a response. “That sure looks like a yes to me! Here, let me show you a neat trick first!” Your heart beats faster in anticipation as Flowey pulls it from your chest. You can’t help but to look, but to see what you are. You’ve always wanted to know what your SOUL color would be.
Helpless laughter spilled from you, unbidden and without thought, as you finally get your answer. Grey – your SOUL was grey, pale and washed out. Any color that might have stained it had been washed almost entirely away. If you look closer, you can see a faint hint of a hue – maybe blue, or possibly green, or even purple. It’s too pale to tell; it might as well be yellow for all you can tell.
Flowey echoes your laughter with his own hollow giggles. “Wow, your SOUL is so weak! You see that heart?” He nods at your heart, and you give a helpless nod of your own, still chuckling mirthlessly. “That’s your SOUL, the very culmination of your being!”
“I guess it’s the soul factor of who I am?” you ask, and a wry grin slipped on your face. Huh. You felt more alive now than you had in what felt like a very long time. You even felt alive enough to try and make bad puns.
The flowers wide grin twitched and faded slightly. It looks like he doesn’t appreciate puns very much. “You’re pretty weak right now, but…” he trailed off in a teasing singsong. You just waited for him to continue, shifting your weight to the other foot. “It can grow stronger if you gain a lot of LV!”
You felt yourself becoming more alive as Flowey’s dialogue kept pulling memories of the game more and more into the forefront of your mind, shielding you from what you were avoiding. “What’s El Vee? Lotsa’ ‘vigoration? Love values? Level? Lovely Violets?” You ask almost playfully, curious to see if the flower would get the same irritated twitch as earlier. It was interesting to see the soulless flower reacting so emotionally.
The twitch you saw earlier did, in fact, return as Flowey struggled to keep playing nice. “Why, no, silly! LV stands for LOVE, of course!” You nod faux-sagely, humor draining away. You wonder if you have any LOVE in your heart. “Hey, don’t worry! I’ll share some with you, and then you’ll have a nice deep sleep!”
Flowey winked, and the air around him sparkled. You…weren’t too sure about letting him kill you anymore. You kind of wanted to see what the Underground was like. Huh – you were wanting things again, more than –
You shook your head vigorously, your most energetic motion so far. No, that was why you couldn’t stay awake, stay aware. You took a step back and watched your Soul follow along simultaneously. You were stepping away from the thoughts like you always did, avoiding reality and the truth.
The being watching you saw your denial and retreat. “Aw, come on, friend! LOVE is nice, and helps you not feel so broken inside!” You wonder how high his LV is. “Look – down here, LOVE is shared through… Little white… Friendliness pellets!” White bullets spun around Flowey, and you were surprised by how small they were. Then again, when you compared them to the size of actual bullets… they were pretty large in comparison, weren’t they? “Don’t they look nice and friendly?” You wanted to laugh at how hard Flowey was trying to appear ‘nice and friendly’ – yet still managing to fail.
Instead, you took a step closer to the flower, watching your heart move closer to the magical projectiles. You weren’t sure what you wanted to do, yet. Dodge or wait? Live or die? …did it even matter? You pulled back, frowning, as you realized that you were caught in an area that was trapped within an eternal time loop. Did Flowey or Frisk hold the power to Save and Reset? If you died… would you wake up with your memories intact whenever they wound time back?
Flowey didn’t care about your hesitation. “Are you ready?” His chirpy voice called out as the bullets spun. “Move around! Get as many as you can!” The ‘friendliness pellets’ all homed in on you and flew forward, slowly enough that you didn’t instinctively flinch back. You waited as they grew closer, and closer… before stepping to the side and watching them fly past. They disappeared before they got too far away from Flowey, but you were busy watching Flowey’s reaction.
His grin slipped slightly, but stayed on by sheer determination. It looked strained and obviously forced, and probably wouldn’t have convinced anybody even if they didn’t know what was actually going on. “Hey buddy, you missed them.” You shrug at him in an almost apology, and he was quick to begin smiling easily once more. “Let’s try again, okay?” This time the bullets formed and shot at you much more quickly, but it was still easy to dodge them.
Flowey wasn’t bothering to try to smile anymore. His little face made no effort to hide the anger and irritation he felt at your repeated thwarting of his attempts to kill you. You doubted he was really trying all that hard, but it probably was annoying to just have someone ignore you like you were ignoring him. You wondered how often Flowey was overlooked, how much time he actually spent in anyone’s presence. People would go mad in isolation, wouldn’t they? Papyrus was his friend, as much as an energetic skeleton could be to a soulless flower, but you didn’t think Flowey talked to people all that much.
…No wonder his acting and conversational skills sucked. “Is this a joke?” he demanded. “Are you braindead?” You shrugged again in response and he looked furious. “RUN. INTO. THE. BULLETS!!!” You couldn’t help but smile as he instantly tried to correct himself, pasting on a friendly face and almost speaking over himself, “Friendliness pellets.”
You gave him a ‘B’ for effort, an ‘F’ for sincerity, and an overall failing grade in accuracy as you dodged the rapidly spinning bullets. You were glad you didn’t let him hit you right away; this was too good to miss. A sudden chill filled the air, and you watched the flower child’s face transform. The friendly smile and cheerful eyes were replaced by a fanged gash and hollow emptiness. His voice echoed as he spoke, low pitched and menacing. Your amusement and lingering numbness turned into instinctual fear as your body began shrieking warning signs at you. Oh.
“YoU knOW WhaT’S gOIng oN HErE, DOn’t yOU?” You shuddered as his voice split as he spoke. You took several steps blindly backward, heart pulsing furiously outside your chest. “YOu jUst WAntEd tO SeE ME sUFfer.” Flowey cut off your escape was with a ring of bullets that blazed into existence around you, a circle surrounding you at waist height.
“Die.”
As spine-chilling laughter echoed in the cave, you frantically ducked and tried to dart under the bullets. You skidded to a halt as they copied you, dropping so that you couldn’t have avoided them. You didn’t know why you were trying so hard, why you were avoiding the bullets, but… you didn’t want to die.
You frantically backed into the middle of the circle as the bullets moved closer, slow in Flowey’s security of his victory. You wanted to scream out for help, to cry out in denial, the hide your rapidly-beating heart before you had a heart attack… so you did. “Help,” came out as a whisper, rasping up your dry throat. “HELP!” You screamed out in terror, wanting someone to save you, wanting someone to come and make everything better, wanting someone –
Someone came. Heat blazed through the air as a fireball slammed into Flowey’s face. He let out a shriek as he the force flung him away, his magic bullets disappearing as he his concentration was shattered. You stared in stunned silence, your throat stinging as you watched the singed plant pull itself underground. A large white monster strode forward, the fire cradled in her palm slowly fading into smoke. It was Toriel.
She watched Flowey disappear before she let the fire fully dissipate, turning away with a sigh. “What a miserable creature, torturing such a poor, innocent youth.” Why was she calling you an innocent youth? She should be able to see that you aren’t. The fuzzy maternal monster turned away from Flowey’s disappearance and towards you, a kind smile on her face. “Ah, do not be afraid! I am Toriel, caretaker of the Ruins.”
She didn’t have to worry; you weren’t afraid anymore. She didn’t have to introduce herself either; you already knew who she was. You show that lack of fear and the decent grip on manners that you still manage to maintain by stepping forward, offering her a hand for a handshake. Your pathetic looking excuse for a heart came forward with you, and you saw Toriel’s eyes focus on it. You stepped back, outstretched hand coming back to cover your exposed heart as you watched an expression of sadness cross her face. You didn’t want to introduce yourself anymore.
You didn’t want to say your name. You weren’t going to say your name unless someone asked… and they wouldn’t.
Toriel began talking again, and both of you pretended not to notice the enormous social gaff you’d just made. “I pass through this place every day to see if anyone has fallen down. You are the first human to come here in a long time. Come!” she called, and gestured you forwards. “I will guide you through the catacombs.”
Your soul throbbed once more before sliding back into your chest, Toriel turning and walking away in the same heartbeat. You wondered what would happen if you didn’t follow her. Would she wait for you? Would she head home without you? She had saved you earlier, but would she continue to save you when all you did was –
“Thank you,” you croak out as you stumble forward. She had saved you, after all. Even if you weren’t sure whether or not you wanted to thank her for that, you appreciated the effort she had showed. You pulled back in alarm as she abruptly turned towards you, concern on her face.
“Is your throat injured?” she asked as she stepped forward. You didn’t say anything, just looking up into her face as she approached. What would she do? You closed your eyes when she lifted a hand – the same one that had burned her former child – towards you. You braced yourself for anything, but still flinched slightly when her soft paw cupped over your throat. The scratchiness inside faded slightly as your skin warmed, a soft glow managing to shine through despite your closed eyes.
This must be healing magic. It felt…kind, like someone asking how your day went, like someone making you a homemade meal, like someone drawing you into a hug, like someone telling you everything would be okay, like someone listening to your fears, like someone wiping away your tears…
You didn’t realize you were crying until the same warmth touched your face, wiping under your eyes and leaving wet cheeks behind. You refused to open your eyes, instead turning your face down. You felt wetness drip from your chin before Toriel placed a hand there, gently applying pressure until you lifted your face, eyes grudgingly sliding open. You saw a smile, gentle and worn, and warm eyes, crinkled and lined with stress and happiness.
You didn’t want to see this; you didn’t want to feel this. The feelings Toriel was inspiring within you were a lie. You didn’t want to raise a hand to clutch at the one holding you steady. You didn’t want to lean into the comfort she was offering. You didn’t want to sag into her as she enveloped you in a hug. You didn’t want to collapse into her arms, sobbing. You didn’t want to remember your past.
…But you did.
.oOo. .oOo. .oOo
Current >> Next >>Last - Chapter 6 This story is also posted on AO3 here and FF.net here.
Lostale Chapter 2 - Wake-up Call
This is a quiet, calm chapter that mostly takes place in Toriel's sitting room, where pleasant breakfast conversation is discussed. You know, like about how you're trapped beneath a barrier and your only escape is to die or to kill someone else. Fun talk!
Warning for vague references to planned death, characters getting emotional, and some quality puns.
The darkness surrounding you was warm. You never wanted to leave this nice, comforting oblivion. There was a soothing static surrounding your thoughts, muting the hurt they caused. You felt like you could stay here forever or for no time at all, and everything would pass on by.
…Something called for your attention, breaking through the haze. It was sweet, coaxing, and made you think of soft things. It was warmth and kindness, and even though those thoughts hurt… you found yourself rising to wakefulness.
“Please wake up, my child. It is time to rise and break your fast.” The voice was unfamiliar but gentle, and you knew that it was talking to you. You didn’t want to listen, but you didn’t have much choice from where you were lying down. “Come, you have slept for long enough.”
You shifted groggily, hearing the rustle of blankets and feeling a soft surface beneath you. No matter how much you slept, it never seemed like enough. You wanted to sleep forever, and let the empty world pass on without you. It wasn’t like anyone wanted you there, anymore. There wasn’t anyone…
Which was why you were confused about the voice. Who could be calling out to you? Why were they asking you to wake up? You didn’t want to wake up. Life wasn’t about what you wanted, though, and you felt slumber slipping farther away.
When a hand landed on your shoulder and shook you gently, you forced your eyes open. The first thing you saw was purple, purple fabric and white fur. Had someone dressed up a gigantic stuffed teddy bear? It was only when you saw the face that you remembered what happened before you last fell asleep… or as had actually happened, collapsed unconscious into a goat lady’s arms.
You had sobbed yourself into sleep in a strangers arms; how embarrassing. Of course, you knew her – knew practically everyone in the Underground that you could come across – but to her, you were just a random human that fell apart. She comforted you despite that lack of familiarity, so you owed it to her to get up like she was asking. So you did.
Her hand slipped off your shoulder as you rose, blankets pooling around your waist and warm air rushing to surround you in its place. Even as you shifted, it still felt as if gravity pulled down on your chest, a heavy weight pressing inwards even as you became more vertical than horizontal. It didn’t matter how you felt, though – you owed it to Toriel to try, in thanks for her not flaming you but instead taking you to safety.
…You assumed she had taken you to safety, what with the soft surface you had just been sleeping on. Looking past her, blearily rubbing at your eyes in an attempt to focus them, you could see a wardrobe and a table with a lamp on it. You were inside a house, then – probably her house. You stared at Toriel for several seconds before you realized that you should probably respond to her calls. “…I’m awake.”
Her smile in reply was enough for you to know you had been right to speak. “Very good, my child! Now, please, come with me and I shall see to your nourishment!” She rose from where she had been leaning beside your bed, and waited by the door. She seemed perfectly content to just stand there, a little smile on her face.
You didn’t want her to have to wait on your account. You tiredly began mustering your energy, preparing to either speak again or rise to follow her. Zombie-like in your automatic motions, you swung your legs out of bed, the limbs thudding like lead weights against the floor and side of the bed. You stared blankly for a moment, trying to remember what you were about to do next. … Oh, that was it.
You mechanically push the last of the covers off your lap, and lever yourself upwards. You swayed as you stood, but all in all, you were successful in standing. You debated whether this was worth a pat on the back in reward or a smack on the head for not doing so earlier.
Toriel seemed pleased, and finally left the room. You followed her, not knowing what else to do. You wanted to go back to sleep, but that didn’t seem like an option right now. Not with Toriel leading the way, humming quietly as she ushered you towards a chair at the table. You blinked when you realized you were staring at the tabletop in the dining room. When did that happen?
Several blinks later, you felt warmth besides you, and you looked up to see Toriel placing a plate and cup before you. Your mind slowly focused, finally whirring into gear, as you took a blind sip from the glass. You vaguely registered tasting something sweet and warm, and then something crunchy and oddly tangy as you ate.
“Do you like the food, my child?” Toriel asked, her own plate empty as she leaned forward. You looked down at your equally empty plate – for the life of you, you had no idea what you’d just eaten. You didn’t remember anything tasting really bad, so you gave her a little nod, head jerking up and down on fraying puppet strings. Her smile made the effort more than worth it. “I am very glad to hear this; I no longer have the opportunity to cook for others as often as I would like.” Her smile grew melancholy, and you finally felt yourself snap into the present moment.
A veil seemed to lift from the world around you as you finally woke up. Toriel needed you right now. “Thank you,” you began hesitatingly, noting how smooth your throat felt, how softly your voice came out. “I really appreciated the food.” You took an additional second to brace yourself, to gather your facilities. What should you be doing right now? What did Toriel need? What was she expecting you to do?
…Ah. She was probably expecting you to be afraid, or need more clarification about monsters and the Underground. “Where am I?” you asked, more strongly than before.
Toriel paused before answering you, examining you thoughtfully. “You are in my home within the Ruins, my child. It lies within the far end of the Underground, home to the monsters banished from the surface.” You wondered how much you could be expected to know about monsters; the game had been entirely unclear on the human world outside.
“I…think I heard a story about monsters, before,” you began. “That they were sealed away, locked behind a magic barrier.” You find yourself smiling slightly as you speak, knowing how your words were true and yet a lie at the same time. “I thought it was just a tale, something someone made up.” That someone being Toby Fox, of course – that would be the Annoying Dog, here. You wondered if you’d run into him, and what he’d say to you. …Bark, bark, probably.
The smile Toriel gave you in return was very sad as she spoke. “I am afraid that this is no faerie tale, my child. We monsters are all very real and inescapably trapped by the Barrier – and now that you have fallen here, you are captured within its boundaries as well.” She rose to her feet, elegance in every movement despite how tall and sturdy she was. Crossing the room in several steady strides, she reached down and plucked a book from the bookshelf. She returned to the table, neatly sliding the book beside your plate.
“Here is a portion of our history, carefully created since the construction of the barrier. If you wish to learn more, you may peruse its contents while I attend to the food and the kitchen. When I return, I would be willing to answer any questions that you may have.” Toriel gently placed her hand on your head, ruffling your already messy hair and sending it into further disarray. She smoothed your hair back down, before stepping aside and heading towards the kitchen. You idly wonder whether or not she has a hairbrush before you turn your attention to the book.
It was a slim volume, and you didn’t think this was anywhere near a large enough to contain the monster’s history since being trapped underground. How many decades, centuries, or even millennia had the monsters been down here? Surely it was more than enough to have a proper full-sized book? You began flipping through the pages, skimming for anything that hadn’t been mentioned within the game.
Your memory of the game was somewhat fuzzy at this point – though not half as fuzzy as Toriel – but just looking through these pages was enough to rekindle your knowledge. It mentioned the war with the humans, the barrier being risen, the monsters migration to the far end of the caves, the hard days where monsters slowly adjusted to their new lives, how despair and hope filled the Underground in equal turns, how the king and queen had inspired happiness amongst their subjects, how one day they felt settled enough they had created a child of their own, how a human fell into the Underground, how there was finally hope for peace, how the monsters list their fear and slowly spread across the caverns, how both of the royal family’s children had died, how the king declared war against humans and the underground fell into despair once more, how monsters Fell Down and died…
You gently closed the book and sighed, feeling even emptier at the thought of the monsters’ hardships. They didn’t deserve to be locked down here, just because humans were a bunch of paranoid, war-mongering bastards. You knew that the humans’ fears were almost completely unjustified – the only monster who had ever desired the power that the humans were terrified of, was a soulless creature who was acting based on his memories of how his human friend would have acted. …That was the issue, of course; humans were always all-too willing to grab for power, to help or to harm. It was difficult to imagine a race of beings that were made of positive emotions and magic, that had no real desire for power or the other stupid things humans always dreamed of and fought for…killed for.
The only reason that you knew better, yourself, was because you’d met and befriended all the monsters – even if it was only virtual versions of them within a game. You knew that none of them should be trapped down here, living their lives of forced cheer and failing hope. Your ragged nails bit into your hands as you clenched your fists tight, anger clawing its way to the surface of your mind. This wasn’t right. Your teeth bared in a snarl as you stared at the unintentionally damning book.
You wanted to do something, somehow – anything. What could you do, though, pathetic human that you were? The anger faded quickly, sinking back into darkness and despair. You felt your face slip, emotions dripping like the tears that were once more slipping down your cheeks. You used one of your still clenched hands to wipe the tears away, not sure if they were from anger or sadness. It didn’t really matter, now did it?
“Child?” You duck your head down at the call, trying to hide your crying. You didn’t need to bother Toriel with another breakdown, not after you had forced her to deal with the mess that was you already. Your attempt was for naught, as you felt a warmth settle at your side. There was a gentle pressure against your shoulder, and you let it tug you into the furry mass. You bury your head into the fabric, once more being held by the giant goat mom who was really too good for this world. Too good to be trapped Underground. Too good to be trapped alone within the ruins.
“This isn’t right…” you mutter quietly, your voice muffled. “Why do people have to be trapped, just because another bunch of people were afraid?” You couldn’t communicate to her why you found this idea so distressing, when you’d supposedly only seen her and Flowey, who had already tried to kill you. That didn’t really matter, though. “Isn’t there any way for you to see the surface once more, break the barrier somehow?”
You knew the answer to that, but the book hadn’t mentioned it. Even with your knowledge, you didn’t know if it was really possible for the barrier to be broken – there was Flowey, so where was Frisk? How many humans had already fallen down, fallen into the king’s hands, fallen into death’s embrace and had their souls sealed away? You pull back, and meet Toriel’s eyes once more, tears completely absent from your own.
She looked hesitant, unsure of how to respond. Tell a broken child of how their death could spare a kingdom of monsters, of how the only other way to escape was to kill a monster and steal their soul, or lie? You wordlessly challenged her to tell the truth. “Child… the barrier was constructed by seven great mages. No one has been able to shatter the barrier in the centuries we’ve been trapped within.” She wasn’t lying, but she wasn’t looking at you anymore. Her gaze had fallen, trapped somewhere between cruel memories and harsh reality.
“If it’s been centuries, have you been able to come up with any ideas? Has it weakened any? Have any actions been taken?” You didn’t know why you were being so forceful, the queries and almost accusations tearing their way free without your input. You pull back, regaining yourself, and feel an odd sensation beginning to fill you from within. Maturity, fear, understanding, drive – you didn’t know.
She definitely looked pained as she responded to your questions. “The Barrier is self-sustaining, and will last for centuries more without fading. We do know how to break the barrier, but… it is not a viable option, child.”
For the first time, you did not want to appear as a child before this monster. She wouldn’t share the dark truth with a child, and you already knew what she was hesitant to admit. “What is the key, then? Why won’t it work?” You knew why she didn’t want it to work, but the fact is, that it would work.
She drew back entirely, taking the book with her as she left the table. You watched as she slid the book back where it belonged, and picked up the book from her chair instead. “Would you like to hear a snail fact?” she asked, a pleading tone in her voice. “They are quite fascinating creatures.”
You were being cruel, hurting her with your words, bringing up thoughts and wounds that had yet to heal. You felt sick to your stomach at the realization, and felt even more worthless and pathetic than before. God, you hated yourself so much. This is why you shouldn’t try to do anything, shouldn’t try to help – you only hurt others, made things worse. You really needed to stop trying, just… stop.
You couldn’t stop. “Toriel?” you questioned softly, masking the pain in your voice with the concern you felt. “What is the key to breaking the barrier?” You were gentle, coaxing – as if she was the broken one, and not you. Perhaps you both were.
She remained silent for several long minutes, and you didn’t push. You were afraid to say anything else, lest she start destroying things – the door to the ruins, for one; any leftover positive regard towards you, for another. Instead, you stood from the table and went to her, kneeling down in front of the fire before her.
“…do you truly wish to know?” she asked, just as softly as you had. “There is a reason that the barrier has not been broken, despite our knowing how.” You silently nodded, unwilling to speak up and accidently stop her. “It is a cruel key; must you really know?” You nodded again, firmly. She sighed, but continued.
“To break the barrier, seven human souls must be gathered. Only with the power of seven human souls, equivalent to the mages who first erected it, can the barrier be destroyed.” A tear leaked down her cheek. “Humans have fallen down here before, left the ruins and attempted to reach the barrier. They have all fallen before the king, dead by Asgore’s hands.”
You let out a soft “ah,” of understanding, and reach up to cup her hands. “How many humans have there been before me? How close are you to being free?”
Her face twitched, and another tear broke free. “Too many, and too far.” Your lip quirks up slightly in morbid humor at her poetic non-answer, but you reach up to wipe away her tears. “I have seen so many children come and go, and my heart will always remain trapped here.” You sigh, feeling sorry for her, but the heavy weight you carry in your own chest will not allow you to dwell without drowning even farther.
“Toriel…” you begin, not sure how to ask what you need to know. If you are one of the earlier humans to fall, you could stay with her, and ask her to bring the king your soul upon your inevitable death. However, if it was as you were expecting, and you were the seventh soul they needed… well. “I don’t want to see you trapped here,” you said helplessly. “I don’t… I want to…” you struggle for the right words, for the emotions you should be feeling. “I’m not…” …that still wasn’t right. “I’m willing to…”
“No!” Toriel cried out. She flung her snail book aside as she slid out of her chair, falling to her knees before you. Her arms wrapped around you in a desperate hug, and you felt your insides clenching. You felt grief begin to rise, but acceptance and gentle warmth caught the emotion and replaced it. You returned her hug carefully for a moment, but pulled back – not out of her grip, just enough to let her see your eyes – your determination, or lack of it when it came to caring about your own life.
“I will not see another child die!” she proclaimed, a queen’s edict, a demand for her subjects to obey and for fate to abide by her whims.
You weren’t one of her subjects, and fate was folly only to its own whims. “I am not a child, Toriel,” you state calmly. Familiar detachment had fallen upon you. “If I am able to help others, if my dying could set other beings and children free…” An empty smile crossed your face as you pulled back and stepped away, trying not to see the heartbreak on her face. This sort of thing was why you needed to die. “At least then it would mean something, yeah?”
She looked stricken, but not surprised. “Child, you…” she faltered. “You could stay with me, be happy here,” she tried. You let your empty gaze speak for you. “You have not even seen the Ruins yet – surely that is something you wish to do.”
You pause, consider her words. You thought you should want to see the ruins, experience the puzzles for yourself. There was a chance of you dying and breaking your soul, though… and you couldn’t quite muster up the desire to experience new lands and people. You were barely able to muster the desire to try to break the Barrier, after all. You didn’t really have enough energy to spare for much else. You shake your head in negation. “There’s… not much I can want, nowadays,” you try to explain. “There’s not much I can even try to want.” You see understanding and sadness in her eyes, and know you have won. It’s a bittersweet victory, and it tastes sour in your mouth – nothing like butterscotch or cinnamon.
You offer her a helpless smile, empty of all but the echoes of emotion. “I… am sorry.” This was the truth – sorrow was there, that you were doing this to her, but it wasn’t enough. “That would sound nice, but…” you look away.
She draws back, and you hear the floor creak as she stands. “Will you wait one day?” She asks quietly. “Just enough for you to consider this fully – for you to enjoy even a little bit of life?”
You don’t know what will hurt her more – if you stay a little longer, or if you leave immediately. “I’ve considered my death for far longer than this…” you admit, “but… if you want me to wait a little while longer…”
“I do,” she says softly. You take in a deep breath, hold it for a moment, and breathe out slowly. You don’t know what to do.
“Okay,” you accede to her wishes. Your lips do the funny twitchy thing again. “I guess you can show me the Ruins after all.” Something catches your eye, and you stretch out and grabbed the book that had been mercilessly discarded. “Before that, though…” you stand offering the tome back to Toriel, who is still standing in the doorway. “1001 Interesting Snail Facts” is proudly displayed on the cover.
“I wouldn’t mind hearing some of those snail facts, now. I’m feeling a bit too sluggish to move around overly much.” You chuckle slightly, and receive a small giggle in return. Your heart relaxes slightly, loosening the tight band trapped around your chest. “I’m not ready to escargot anywhere just yet.”
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This story is also on AO3 here and FF.net here.
So. Yeah. You're willing to die to break the barrier, and you made Toriel cry. But, hey! At least you made a few good snail puns! ...Here's a warning: more puns are coming. Let me know what you think of them? In case the last one didn't make sense, escargot is pronounced es-car-go, not es-car-got. ...Okay, so I have almost 5 chapters in total written (some need to be typed up and edited), and at this point, I may as well call this story HugTale. So far, there have been hugs in every chapter. (Ch5 may break this streak) What can I say? I like hugs, and Toriel likes giving hugs, apparently.
Lostale Ch 3 - Day of Res-pie-te
Rather than delve into snail facts immediately, Toriel insisted on showing you the ruins. You acquiesced easily enough, willing to go along with whatever she wanted for what remained of the day. Despite the less-than-pleasant talk you two had just shared, Toriel seemed very excited to tour the ruins with you. You followed along just behind and beside Toriel as she led the way out of her home.
The first thing that had caught your eye had been the dark and empty branches of a tree, twisting and rising above a carpet of red leaves. Toriel had called it a ‘never-green tree’, and you’d felt that same quirk of humor that was beginning to arise more often. The name was a lot more accurate than ‘ever-red’, or even ‘ever-black’ – you stood there long enough to watch a leaf grow, already crimson red at its creation, before it soon lost its grip and broke away to join the pile of fallen debris below.
You wondered if that tree was the source of all the red leaves that were scattered in neat piles throughout the ruins, adding a touch of extra color to the entirely purple themed rooms. You spotted several Froggits playing amongst the leaves in one of the next rooms, with a cautious Whimsun fluttering nearby. When you stopped to watch, Toriel joined you. Within moments, the monsters you were watching had noticed, and began to shy away.
You turned away as well, with a slight pang in your heart at the rejection. Huh. You didn’t expect that to hurt. Why shouldn’t you have, though? Didn’t just about everything hurt these days? You continued on, not entirely sure where you were going as Toriel lingered behind for several more seconds. You both wound your way through the entirety of the ruins, from the rotating room to the rock puzzles to the crumbling floors.
Eventually, you reached the room where Flowey had confronted you. Toriel hesitated, but when you made no move to continue, she placed a hand on your shoulder before moving into the flower room. You simply sat on the grass, right before where Flowey had popped up. He didn’t appear, but that didn’t surprise you – he was likely wary with Toriel nearby, and the Flower wasn’t really the confrontational type, anyways. He was the sneaky follower type instead.
You did join Toriel in the flower room, Chara’s grave. She was tending to the flowers when you approached, and you knelt down to assist her. There was silence for several minutes, before she slowly began telling you her tale. She talked about her children, her firstborn son and her only child by birth, and the seven other children she had cared for as her own. You silently noted that you would indeed be the seventh soul – the eighth human to fall.
You spared a moment to wonder what would happen with Frisk; had you replaced them, or just fallen before them? You let the thought linger as you listened, Toriel telling tales of her children’s antics.
You heard about how her son had the kindest soul, always willing to stop and help another. You heard about how her first human child was wary, unable to trust anyone but her son who had found them and supported them when they were injured. You heard about how her second human child had been quiet; always willing to listen and wait before doing anything or making any judgements. You heard about her third human child, who was brash and headstrong, following his heart without pausing to think about the danger. You heard about her fourth human child, who loved to dance and threw her entire soul into the display without any artifice. You heard about her fifth human child, who was endlessly fascinated by this new land and wouldn’t stop until he’d learned about everything he could discover. You heard about her sixth human child, who had eagerly learned any recipes they could from Toriel and then shared the results with any nearby monsters. You heard about her seventh human child, who had felt a profound sense of what was wrong and right within the world and set about ‘fixing’ that wherever he could.
You heard about her eighth human child, who felt broken but had a soul big enough for the entire Underground. You thought that was an interesting description for Frisk…before you remembered that Toriel hadn’t met Frisk. You had frozen, staring up at Toriel with wide eyes, all else momentarily forgotten. Her smile was soft and sad as she abandoned her own flowers to lean over, engulfing you in another hug.
The world was warm within her love, overflowing and reaching out to you. “You said that you are not a child,” she breathed into your hair, “but know that I shall always treasure you as my child. Even if this is the only time we have,” she broke off, “I want you to know how much it means to me.”
You were confused, lost, and hurting. Why was she doing this, saying this? You’d broken down before her, she knew you were broken, and she’d known you for less than a day. Why was she claiming you as her own? Why was she setting herself up for heartache? You’d already hurt her, unintentionally and unfortunately intentionally; why was she only setting herself up for more hurt?
You were still lost as she pulled you to your feet, standing herself. She kept your hand within hers as you began the steady trek back to her home. You expected her to let go when you reached the long corridor to prove your independence, but all she did was hold your hand tighter. You made it through all the puzzles, even managing to lead slightly through the spike bridge and cracked floor maze. Toriel hadn’t seemed keen on you leading, but she let you try – at those times, her grip on your hand seemed to be far more for her benefit than for yours.
Still, you didn’t encounter any monsters willing to confront either of you the entire way back. When you reached the entryway of the house, Toriel finally let go of your hand. “Please, explore the upper floors while I make us some food.” Her smile felt sad as she led you to the hallway, stopping before the first door. “For the time that you are here… you may consider this your room.” It was the room you’d woken up in, the room she would give to Frisk.
You reached out, giving Toriel a half-hug, before heading into the child’s room. She did not join you, instead heading back the hallway, and presumably to the kitchen. You felt exhausted, drained emotionally and physically, and simply dropped onto the bed. You sat there for several moments, not sure what to do. Slowly, you toed off your shoes, and lay back above the blankets. You stared emptily at the blank ceiling, thoughts mulled and indecipherable. You eventually closed your eyes, letting the darkness behind your eyelids echo the darkness within your mind and soul.
Dark…darker…yet darker; the faintest flicker of amusement threatened to rise at the fitting quote. Emptiness quickly quashed that emotion, and you wandered adrift, floating in a sea of denial. You could have remained there; safe from the hurts of the world, but once more a voice came to interrupt you. The sound was accompanied by a scent, unfamiliar but pleasant all the same.
Grudgingly, you dragged yourself back to the real world. Surprisingly, you even still had the energy to spare for opening your eyes, sending the darkness away until you next returned. Toriel was sitting on the bed, a plate carefully held in one hand. “Child?” she called worriedly.
The desire to not cause her any more worry gave you the motivation to rise, until you were sitting cross-legged on the bed facing her. When you moved, she smiled, and once you settled she offered out the plate. You took it carefully, unwilling to dirty the bed with crumbs.
It was a golden pie, and you realized that you knew what the scent was: butterscotch and cinnamon. You felt something rise unbidden in your chest. “I did not know which you preferred more, butterscotch or cinnamon…” Toriel began, shifting slightly. “So I used them both to create this pie. I do hope that you enjoy it.” She smiled, warm but wary, as if expecting another painful blow from you.
You felt tears gather in your eyes as you take a bite. The slice is still warm from Toriel’s fire magic, and you can taste the care and love that went into its creation. It has to be because of the magic that created it – you can actually feel the emotions poured into the food. Warmth, care, safety, concern, happiness, sadness; a promise – you choke, tears starting to overflow as the gentle emotions are pressed upon you. It’s painful, so extraordinarily painful, but it’s the most beautiful pain you’ve ever felt. The taste of cinnamon and butterscotch swirled on your tongue, sweet with enough to spice it up.
“I love it,” you choke, and have to set down the plate to wipe your eyes once more. “I love it…” you sob, as the emotions linger. You force yourself to take another bite, and bite back another sob at the renewed force of feelings. You see hands reaching out to take the plate away, and you desperately pull it back towards you, protecting it. The hands pause, retreat, and you feel a weight settle on your shoulder, pulling you into a hug without dislodging either you or the pie.
Toriel let you cry as you ate, and you could feel a similar warmth emanating from her as you could from the pie. The love that this woman could feel was unbelievable, overwhelming, and you didn’t know how to comprehend or respond to it.
Eventually, you finished, and the two of you sat together in silence for several moments before she began talking. “Oh dear… if this was your response to cinnamon and butterscotch, perhaps it is a good thing that I did not make snail pie.” You can’t help your quiet laugh, but you privately imagine that you would be almost just as torn up inside even if the pie Toriel baked had a more…questionable taste. “Pie believe that it may be best saved for another day.” You couldn’t stop yourself from cracking up, barely believing the pun she’d just made. Her eyes were sparkling as she continued, “I shell just have to wait.” You let out an undignified snort, amusement rising unfettered.
“Toriel, I believe that you butter stop now before you hurt yourself.” You giggle along with Toriel, even as you wonder why your heart feels so light. “These puns are barely half-baked.” That was so horrible, but you both are laughing like it’s the best joke you’ve heard in years.
“Do you know any batter ones, then?” You snicker, but shake your head.
“No, but I’m sure I can cook up a few more jokes anyways.” You should be ashamed of yourself, but all you can feel is happiness. It’s weird, being happy once more.
As you continue to trade jokes with Toriel, you feel another powerful emotion rising up. It isn’t one of your normal negative feelings, still blocked from you by the magical power of Toriel’s pie, love, and bad jokes. No – instead, you’re determined to find more happiness for Toriel.
For just a moment, you felt the world grow clear, and you know that you’ll remember this moment forever. The happiness of trading laughs with someone who sincerely loves bad jokes, the peace from spending time with someone who cares about you very much… it filled you with Determination.
You blink, and Toriel reels off one last pun before she leaves, taking the plate with her and humming as she goes. Something completely foreign had just happened, and you didn’t know what it was. The empty room sapped at your strength and your emotions, and you suddenly felt hollow, worn out and tired. You’d just expended a great deal of energy, after all. Keeping up with Toriel had been no joke.
You wanted to go back to sleep, but instead, you headed out to the sitting room. You had a limited amount of time to spend with Toriel, after all. She was sitting in her comfortable little chair, book in her lap, and you curled up on the floor beside her.
The fire magic from the fireplace warmed you as you listened to her speak, reading softly of snail facts. Every so often a small smile or frown flickered across your face, but you just sat there with your eyes closed, trying to soak up as much of the warmth radiating out as you could while you were able. It was oddly comfortable, and you drifted, half there and half within the void of your mind.
It was a delicate peace, and one destined to break, but it lasted through the rest of the evening. It even followed you to bed, as you and Toriel parted ways for the night and you slipped into slumber. It didn’t last long after that, the balance tipping back towards the darkness that supported you with its emptiness. There was no one to hurt you, no one to be hurt by; no one was supposed to be here, so there could be no one missing when they weren’t there.
You let yourself be vulnerable, open, with the darkness shielding you. You felt protected here, and you let that lull you into deeper sleep, deeper depths of darkness, deeper into the void…
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Lostale Chapter 4 - Pocketful of Sunshine
It's time to leave Toriel behind, and move forward to the Barrier. She has some things for you before you leave, and each of them are priceless.
I include an interpretation of Inventory and just how you can carry so many unwieldy items throughout the Underground - hopefully it will make sense.
You don’t want to wake up. Of course, when has what you wanted ever mattered? You’re leaving the depths of sleeps behind, rising from the quiet darkness to the deafening turmoil of your waking mind. You don’t like it at all. It’s too loud, too overbearing, always lashing out against you.
Thoughts of the past are dragging at your soul, hounding you with thoughts of what you could have done, with everything that has ever gone wrong. You are trapped within the thoughts of what you could have done, what you didn’t do, what you will never been able to do…
You internally flinch, and try to bury yourself back within the void. You don’t like thinking about many things anymore. It made you so exhausted, tired, dead inside – and wasn’t that a joke? You lacked the determination to do anything, fix anything, to stop hurting others…
There is something you can do. You would startle in remembrance, if you had the energy to spare. You’d been trapped Underground, within the barrier, and you could break it. You could help bring freedom to all of the monsters the barrier trapped, that the humans damned… and you wouldn’t even have to keep going after that.
You wouldn’t be making it out of the Underground, and that was oddly comforting. It was still an abstract enough notion to not be terrifying, but instead, relieving. You weren’t sure if you had enough energy to make it across the Underground in one piece, much less the energy to deal with anything after that. You would be able to stop…but first, you had to make it to the barrier.
You didn’t have the Determination to brute force your way through the Underground, using trial and error whenever something failed to work. You didn’t have the Determination to keep getting up each time you fell, were killed…so you’ll just have to be more careful. The thought of so much effort is already draining at your newfound conviction, but you force yourself to instead picture the results – all the monsters free, and you free in an entirely different way.
To do that, you’ll need to make it past Flowey, the Royal Guard, Papyrus, Undyne, Alphys, Mettaton, and everybody else along the way… that path sounds near-impossible. Aren’t there any shortcuts that you could take that would require less effort?
Maybe the Riverperson could – oh. The Riverperson wasn’t the only one who got around the Underground quickly; Sans explicitly used shortcuts to jump to wherever he wanted to be. Maybe you didn’t have to trek through the entire Underground; maybe you can just get Sans to take you straight to the king. It would be less work for you, and equally less work for him – right?
He shouldn’t have a problem with it…after all, it was only his promise to Toriel that kept him from immediately killing Frisk, wasn’t it? You’d already convinced Toriel to let you go forward with the express intent of handing your soul over to the king via death… surely that would be enough to relieve Sans of his promise? If the skeleton still wanted to keep the promise after he’s been released from the duty, wouldn’t him bringing you straight to the capital count as ‘guiding’ and ‘watching over’ you?
Unless…unless he wanted to give his brother a chance at human hunting? That would make Papyrus pretty happy, and isn’t that a major part of what drives Sans? …It’d be pretty risky, though, to just hope that a random human would play along with the puzzles and not hurt anyone along the way. Besides, if you did have fun with Papyrus, he might end up attached – there was no question that you were already attached to the cool skeleton even if you’d never seen him in person – and you’re just going to die. There’s no point in befriending Papyrus if you’re just going to take a permanent ‘vacation’ immediately after and never see him again…
Really, exposing yourself to Papyrus could only just cause more pain. There was nothing else that being alive seemed to do anymore but to hurt you and help you to hurt others. You grimace, unsure of what you can do to avoid causing others to feel worse. Maybe you should have just let Flowey kill you right from the start – that certainly would have stopped you from hurting Toriel. If you never met her, then there was no way you could injure her, right?
Was continuing on even worth the chance of the hurt that it could cause? Flowey would be waiting at the end of the ruins, probably – he could fix your mistake. It would be easy, really, so much easier…
“My child?” Something tried to disrupt your thoughts, but you don’t pay it any mind. What should you say to Flowey? “Child?” Should you even say anything?
Something is touching you. It takes several moments for the feeling to register, but once it does, you slowly level dead eyes onto whatever dared to enter your personal space.
It was white. You didn’t like white; it was too empty, too clean, too easily stained – a pretense of purity. You wanted the whiteness to go away and leave you be to the darkness.
It stayed, and even more white entered your vision. You couldn’t comprehend what you were seeing – your mind saw the colors and shapes, but refused to assign them properties or names. “It is morning once more, my child.” The sounds again – you knew them to be words this time. “Come, you should always start your day with a nutritious breakfast!”
You didn’t want to start the day, with a nutritious breakfast or otherwise. That meant you would have to start moving, start feeling. Against your will, you felt yourself get up and rise out of bed. You followed the monster of white and purple – lies and royalty – into the sitting room once more.
The white guided you to a seat, and the white gave you food to eat. You stared at the plate, not really seeing the food you intellectually knew was there or the point of eating it. It would be far too much effort to just raise your hand and grasp the fork, much less slice off a bite and bring it all the way to your mouth. You didn’t want to move.
“Normally I do not encourage desert for breakfast, my child, but I believe today to be worthy of an exception.” The white wanted you to eat –Toriel wanted you to eat. She was trying to help, to be kind. You didn’t deserve the kindness she was showing you, but you couldn’t say that to her. Even though it was true, saying it aloud would only hurt her more.
Instead, you focused until you were actually seeing the plate, rather than just looking emptily past it. Displayed proudly was another piece of the painfully delicious pie. You wondered if it would still inspire the same emotions now that it had earlier, since it had been sitting around for a while.
It did. Even with just one bite, the emotional energy was already pouring into you, forcing you even farther into wakefulness. The feelings you had been numb to, now gained strength and demanded your attention. Sadness, happiness, curiosity, concern, relief – all powered by magic and the emotional power baked inside a slice of pie.
You decided, right then and there, that magic was incredibly weird…but you were grateful, despite your resentment at being forced to feel so much. You realize that you’ve been really rude to Toriel all morning, and turn to face her.
The goat lady is tucking into her own breakfast, which seems far less appetizing than the breakfast she served to you. You don’t know exactly what it is, but you strongly suspect that snails are somehow involved. Eurgh. “Thank you,” you offer, and the returning smile makes all the effort worth it. Thus encouraged, you continue. “I really appreciate all that you’ve done for me, Toriel.”
Her smile slips slightly, but becomes no less real. “Of course, my child. I am happy to have helped, and I am more than willing to do anything else that might aid you.” You can tell that the offer pained her, but that it was an earnest offer none the less.
Well, now wasn’t that a convenient opportunity. You take a second bite of the incredible pie as you think about what you’d be willing to request of her. There was no point in asking her to escort you to the castle – she only shows up there to stop you from dying in the game, and that would defeat the entire purpose of you going. Besides, you don’t want to force her to leave her home in the Ruins – not when that’s practically all she has left.
However, if she took you to even just the end of the Ruins, that would keep you safe from Flowey. He liked to appear just before the exit, and you weren’t sure if he’d let you through without another attempt at killing you and stealing your soul. “Could you…” you start, unsure of whether or not this is the right thing to ask. Toriel nods, wordlessly encouraging you to continue, and you find the strength to continue speaking. “Could you escort me to the end of the Ruins? Then… then can you listen or look for the breaking of the barrier, so that you’ll know when you can leave for freedom?” You felt terrible asking that of her – asking her to look for your death. You were essentially asking her to look forward to the death of someone she cared about, even if you couldn’t understand why she cared for you at all.
She folded her paws together, in prayer or in thought. You slowly finished your breakfast, unsure of whether or not you had once again caused her pain, but you didn’t know what else you could do. It always just seemed to happen, despite your best efforts. You fidgeted nervously with your fork once you finished off your pie, unsure of what else to do.
Slowly, she nodded. “Of course, my child.” It was unfair how much those two words kept making your heart throb in additional agony, forcing it to feel a confusing maelstrom of emotions. Still, you felt your tension drain away at her agreement, no matter how unhappy it seemed. “I shall provide you with several more ways to ease your journey,” she spoke, seeming more focused and less sad now that she had something she could do.
The goat mom rose as she spoke, making her way into the kitchen. You grabbed both of your dirty dishes and followed along behind her, mildly curious as to what else she could do for you that she hadn’t already done. “I have a spare cell phone with my number already programmed within, so you can call me should you ever again need my assistance.” You were truly surprised by the offer – in the game, Toriel never picked up the phone once you left the ruins. Though…that may have partly been the Annoying Dog’s fault, since it was suggested that he stole her phone once more after you left… Yet here was Toriel, giving you the phone right before you will leave her behind…and you weren’t exactly likely to maintain ownership of the phone overly long. Maybe you’ll give it to Asgore before he kills you?
Unsure of what to do with it, you take the phone Toriel hands you and slip it into a pocket, determined to deal with it later. You hand her the plates in return, but as she takes them to the sink, you realize that you can’t feel the phone in your pocket anymore. Had you lost it already? Starting to panic slightly, you desperately try to pull it out. Maybe it had just slipped out of your pocket? When you pulled your searching hand back out, the missing phone was right there in your palm. You stared at it for a moment, confused. Maybe it had just been your imagination? You slip it back in your pocket, intending to put it aside for now. You pat the pocket, intending to comfort yourself with the shape of the phone, but it isn’t there again? What?
Laughter interrupts your confusion, and you look up from where you’re staring at your pocket to see Toriel, paw politely covering her mouth in an attempt to hide her amusement at your confusion. “Are you unused to your pocket dimension, my child?” …is she making a joke, or is that actually a thing?
“You’re saying that I suddenly have a… pocket dimension attached to my pocket?” You question disbelievingly, abandoning your search for your apparently dimensionally displaced phone.
“Oh, no, of course not!” Toriel exclaimed as she busied herself with the fridge. You immediately felt foolish, and ducked your head in shame. You were so stupid, so wrong; you just wanted to di- “It’s attached to you, of course! There is no need for pockets with your pocket dimension!” …What.
“What?” You ask, giving up. “I don’t understand. Why – how would I even have a pocket dimension, much less access it accidently if it isn’t connected to my pocket?” You clench your fists tighter, and then open them, half expecting your phone to magically appear. It doesn’t, and you’re actually mildly disappointed. You wanted your phone to come to your hand…and it does. You stare in disbelief at the ancient device, thankful that you haven’t lost Toriel’s gift, but unsure how to otherwise react.
You hear Toriel bustling around, and look away from your new phone to see her bustling around the fridge. “Well, using pockets does make it easier to tuck things away,” she admitted. “They aren’t necessary, though – simply pick up the item with the intent of tucking it away, and away it shall go! After all, how else would you be able to take food or other larger objects with you?”
So saying, she presents you with several more plates, all holding a slice of pie. You don’t know what she wants you to do, but after a moment, you take one of the pie piece plates. “I think you will want to save that for later,” she softly recommends. “You may eat these whenever you find your strength failing, and they shall help to heal you.”
You swallow a lump in your throat and nod, grateful to the goat lady. She didn’t have to give you the pie infused with the magical energy that was coursing through your veins even now, assisting you and bolstering your spirit. You closed your eyes and imagined this piece going away, waiting for when you need it next. You feel a weight disappear from your hand, and a mental slot fill up inside your mind.
You think you understand how this works, now, and send your phone to the same space. You look to Toriel, who is looking back at you with an expression of pride on her face. “Very good, my child! You are doing well. Now, take these with you as well.” She held back out the other slice of pie, and a new one with it. Feeling unbelievably grateful, you take them both, and place them within your pocket space and take inventory of what you’re hiding away. Three slices of butterscotch-cinnamon pie and one old mobile phone – a queen’s bounty, really.
“Thank you, Toriel,” you say, moving forward with your now-empty hands to catch her in a hug. She returns the hug gladly, enfolding you in warmth. You breathe in deeply, smelling fire and life; fur and dirt; butterscotch and cinnamon. You think that this scent is something distinctly Toriel, and it will always remind you of home.
“You are welcome, my child, but I have yet one more thing to give to you.” She drew back, but you could still feel her warmth. “I am afraid that it is not so much a physical item, as a piece of advice and guidance.” You tilt your head to the side, mildly curious. You think you might have some idea where she’s going with this… “I cannot accompany you outside the ruins, but I have a friend who has promised to protect any humans that cross his path.” You were right, for once. She’s telling you about Sans.
“I know not his name,” she admits, “but he has a kind heart and a good sense of humor – especially with his knock-knock jokes.” She smiles, probably recalling the memory of a particularly good laugh. “He wanders the forests of Snowdin – the land just beyond the Ruin’s exit. He has told me little of himself – only that he has a brother, Papyrus, who means the world to him.” Her smile is soft, and you feel an answering smile on your own face. Thinking about Papyrus almost always helped you to feel happier.
“If you find him, you can count on his help. He is a very good person, and I believe that he will protect you for as long as he can.” Her smile wobbled, and you wondered if there was a term for someone who protected you so that you could die in a specific place that you wanted. Death-guard, maybe?
Sadness was crossing her face, and you needed to stop it before it became any worse. “If he’s a friend of yours, then I’m sure he really is a great person,” you try to reassure. “I’m already looking forward to meeting him.” Toriel seems a little less depressed, but that’s not enough, so you try to think up another pun or joke for her to laugh over – they’d worked fairly well last night, hadn’t they? “If he likes knock-knock jokes, I’m sure to a-door him.” You place heavy emphasis on the pun, and your effort pays off when a moment later, the exiled queen lets out an undignified snort of laughter.
You aren’t sure whether she’s laughing at you or your weak joke, but…it’s enough. This is enough – you’ve done all you can, here, lingered as long as you can. You’re ready to go. A flash of terror bolts through you as you set your mind on moving closer to your death…but this is what you want. “Let’s go ahead, then.” You leave the room, hesitating only a few short moments before heading down the stairs.
Toriel followed along behind you after a momentary pause, likely thrown by your abrupt exit. You would feel bad about being rude, but you were ready to leave now – you needed to leave now, while you still had the motivation to keep moving. You both walked down the steps together in silence, as the hallway turned purple, as you both rounded the corner. Toriel faltered as you both came to the first door, but determinedly helped you tug it open.
You were both silent as you walked through the last, long corridor of the ruins. As it changed color, you prepared yourself for the possibility of Flowey. You didn’t think he’d show up… and he didn’t. You breathed out a sigh of relief as you passed the grass patch, and both Toriel and you stop before the final door.
When you turn to look at her for a final time, there are tears in her eyes. “This is where I must leave you, my child,” she whispered, heartache in her voice. You feel similar sentiments of sadness gather in your own eyes, trying to spill over.
You deny them, and instead nod, pulling yourself together. “Thank you again…for everything.” The smile you offer her is small, but true. “I…actually managed to enjoy spending time with you.” You lick your lips, unsure of whether or not you wanted to say this next sentence. “I think… I could have been happy with you, if this was in another situation.” You tilt your head as you ponder on that thought. “But…I guess this’ll have to do.”
You nod sharply, just once, and are swept up into another hug. You don’t think you’ll ever mind getting hugged by Toriel – each one is an experience of warmth and safety, two emotions that are even more absent than all the rest nowadays. You take in the scent of home once more, feel the smooth sensation of fur against your skin, of tears falling onto your bent head…
You pull back from your last hug, and for a final time, wipe the tears you’ve caused from her eyes. She lets you, and watches as you open the door. “Goodbye, my child,” she chokes out.
You pause, ready to exit. You weigh a last parting statement in your mind – would she want to hear it? Would you mean it? Would this help, or hurt her more? “Goodbye… Mom.” You heard a strangled sound, but you couldn’t bear to look.
Tears finally fell from your eyes as you tore through the door, slamming the portal closed forever more behind you. You didn’t know if the sound of sobs you heard were hers or your own as you left.
.oOo. .oOo. .oOo.
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This story is also on AO3 here and FF.net here.
Lostale Ch 5 - No Shortcuts on the Road of Life
Summary: You've made it through the Ruins - now it's time to meet a new friend. Of course, you're mostly just hoping for a quick ticket to the king, rather than any laughs. we'll see about that, alright kid?
The echo of Toriel’s cries faded into silence, even though you could only stand numbly by the door. The Goat Mom was gone, leaving you behind just as you had abandoned her. There was the sensation of cold stinging against your face, as the chilled air found a weakness and pounced upon your tears.
You didn’t bother to dry your cheeks, feeling that you earned whatever pain they brought. Really, the mild sensation of cutting wind was nothing compared to what you really deserved. You gritted your teeth and tried to push aside your guilt and your grief. Just standing here wallowing wasn’t getting you any closer to the barrier.
The dark trees towering above seemed to echo your mood, and you found comfort in their quiet presence. Everything around you was still – the trees barely rustled, no animals called, only the slightest of winds was even moving at all. The snow blanketing the landscape seemed crisp, almost entirely clean and untouched, but a section had been slightly cleared as a path.
You began along the path, paying no mind to the camera you knew Alphys had hidden in the bushes. That didn’t really matter, now did it? No, the only thing that mattered right now was the skeleton that was probably already following you. You paused at the sight of a thick branch across the path. You lifted a foot and gently tested the wood’s strength, pushing down more forcefully and looking for any sign of it weakening or snapping.
It didn’t; the branch was strong, and you would have to apply far more effort if you wanted to break it. You wanted neither the branch to break nor to expend your effort; you’d leave that to Sans. You stepped over the branch and continued walking, head cocked at an angle so you’d be able to better hear the –
Snap. There it was. You turned slightly, just enough that you could see the broken branch over your shoulder. A small smile crept onto your face as you looked away and continued forwards. Sans was definitely here. You thought you heard him scurrying between the trees at one point. You didn’t bother trying to find him; he’d only hide if you tried, and he’d reveal himself in due time.
After another minute of walking, that due time came. You paused at the bridge, and heard the crunching of heavy footsteps in the snow. You turned around to look, not bothering to wait.
A darkened figure was determinedly striding towards you, wreathed in black smoke, tendrils of the void curling around him. Your eyes widened at the threatening display, not expecting Sans to look so terrifying. Was this really Sans? You couldn’t recognize the figure, hidden in plain sight as it was.
“H u m a n,” rasped a low voice, and the unearthly sound of it sent shivers scraping down your spine. Despite your rising fear, you looked forward at where you assumed eyes would be – it was hard to tell, as the monster’s shape seemed distorted. “Don’t you know how to greet a new pal? Reach out and shake my hand.”
A blurred hand extended from the smoke, a limb seemingly made of darkness. It only took you a moment to steel yourself, reaching out with your left hand to firmly clasp the one extended to you. The sound of a long, wet fart filled the solemn air, and you couldn’t help the smile that twitched onto your lips. That was so juvenile…
The darkness instantly vanished, revealing the figure before you in full color. There was no doubt that this was Sans – a chubby skeleton (how even?) wearing a blue jacket and black shorts, a wide grin spread across his face. The grin seemed to light up his eyes – his eye sockets – as he began to speak, this time in a far friendlier tone. “heheh,” he chuckled, and you felt your smile grow in response to his good humor as you finally let go of his hand. “the old whoopee cushion in the hand trick. it’s ALWAYS funny.”
You snorted and shook your head, but you couldn’t deny the humor on your face. “anyways, you’re a human, right?” You nodded in affirmation and he continued, eyes sharp as he tracked your face. “that’s hilarious. i'm sans. sans the skeleton. im actually supposed to be on watch for humans right now.” His eyes shifted to the side, and you felt the call of opportunity.
“What do you do with the humans you find?” You ask faux innocently. You knew what you wanted to ask him, but you weren’t entirely sure how to without tipping him off that you knew far more than you could be able to reasonably claim.
Sans shrugged, seemingly unbothered by the change in the script. “eh, i'm supposed to bring ‘em up before the king, but i don’t really care about doing that.” Well, that was helpful.
“Really?” You ask, shifting to stand more solidly. “That would have been pretty convenient – that’s where I’m trying to go.” You were tired of speaking around, and guessed that you two could keep circling your words for hours if you didn’t just get straight to the point. “I need to get there and give him something.” You tapped your chest, right above where your SOUL had manifested. “I promised someone that I’d break the barrier for her, after all.”
A hint of surprise finally crossed San’s features, but that was it. “huh. too bad, then. i'm not up to giving free lifts to just anybody who needs to go places.” You hum lightly; you hadn’t expected Sans to make this easy, after all.
“Well, then,” you shrug. “Would it be easier for you to just take my soul?” You spread your arms out to your side, showing how vulnerable you were. “It’d make it a lot easier for me, but I’m not sure how long it’ll last without some form of protection.”
The surprise was replaced by wary suspicion, and you couldn’t help your amusement. “that’s not a very funny joke, kid.” That made two out of three monsters in the Underground that were treating you like a child – how old were they, and just how young did you seem? “there’s only one way take a human soul, and, uh, i kind of doubt you’re up for dying right now.”
You can’t help your laughter. Wow, that had to be the most inaccurate statement you’d ever heard. The skeleton before you shifted, stepping back slightly and seemingly prepared for an attack. “Sorry, Sans,” you say with a smile, and your tone make him even more uneasy. “It’s just that, you guessed exactly what I was up for.” You shrugged. “That’s what I’m offering – my death, and my soul to the king.”
You grimace slightly, as something you’d completely forgotten occurs to you. “Although, ah, I was kind of hoping to dissuade him from war against humanity, first. I don’t think that would end well for either of our civilizations or people.” Sans eyed you speculatively, judging your words and intentions.
“huh. you serious about that offer, kid?” he asks, seemingly not caring about your answer either way, and you nod. He hums, and then tilts his head, seemingly listening for something. “eh, i'm not really up for any human killing.” He chuckles hollowly before continuing. “my bro’s probably getting impatient up ahead, and i made a promise – “
“She knows what I’m doing.” You interrupt, and Sans smile drops without moving an inch. “She told me that someone promised to protect any humans, to guide them – but she knew where I’m going, my intentions when we parted ways.” You swallow past the lump in your throat. “I think that releases you from the promise, but…”
You close your eyes, and give up. You weren’t going to make Sans do anything that he didn’t want to, that would hurt him further. You’d already done enough of that already. “Okay.” You drew in a deep breath. “Okay,” you repeated yourself, as you reassured yourself of this new path. “You don’t have to do anything,” you admit quietly.
This path would be a lot harder, and you didn’t want to traverse it…but when was life about what you wanted. “You mentioned that your brother is up ahead, right?” You asked, an empty smile pasted on your face. Your chest was heavy, and you could already feel the weight of life bearing down on you once more. “I’ll keep going for as long as I can,” you say, and the words feel like a painful promise and you have to close your eyes, “but I don’t think I’ll be able to make it.”
You would play the games, go along with what everybody wanted, but you wouldn’t be able to hold out very long. “The Underground is dangerous, and it’s not just the king who is willing to kill humans. If I die to some random monster, I don’t want it to go to waste.” You level your gaze on Sans, unwilling to compromise on this point. “When I die, I don’t want my soul to just shatter. It needs to be taken to the barrier, and with how weak it is, I don’t know how long it will last in the hands of someone who doesn’t know what they’re doing.”
There was no fighting your conclusion. Sans had to know how dangerous the Underground was – thus the whole promise of protection in the first place. “you’re a pretty determined kid, aren’t ya’?” he asked, and you couldn’t identify the tone in his voice.
Even still, you shook your head in denial. “That’s the problem,” you admit quietly. “I’m not determined enough to make it through the Underground alive.”
Sans looks disbelieving, and you wonder if he thinks that you’re the one behind the resets. “well, you look pretty determined from here,” he disagrees, and you have to roll your eyes.
“Give it five minutes, and it’ll be gone,” you admit. “I’ve only got so much energy, and I’ve already wasted enough effort convincing you.” You can’t help but scoff, bitter. “I hope it was worth it.”
You instantly regret your words as you see his face darken, and you flush in shame. “…sorry,” you say quietly. “I didn’t mean that how it sounded.”
Something claps you on the shoulder, and you look up to see Sans standing right before you. “eh, forget about it. come on, i'm sure Papyrus will love to see a real human.” He gives you a gentle push, and you finally move across the bridge. You can see Sans’ sentry station, but to the side and in front of that is…
“Wow,” you say dully. “That is one bizarre lamp.” It’s one of the weirdest looking things you’ve ever seen, and you’re including yourself in that category. In fact, it probably looks so weird because it does resemble you.
Sans just shrugs, an easy gin on his face. “pretty convenient, huh? why don’t you go hide behind it while i talk to my bro.” You go ahead and hide behind the out of place object, figuring that you may as well at this point. You close your eyes as you wait for Papyrus, and then listen as the two banter. You lean forward, forehead resting against the cool surface of the lamp. Unlike Frisk’s short lamp, yours doesn’t have a shade, the light spilling out from above rather than the sides.
You wonder how it changed, why it replaced the more familiar conveniently-shaped lamp, which admittedly would have been far less convenient for you. You are forced to smile several times at the familiar jokes which you can’t help but overhear, appreciating each brother’s efforts.
Papyrus… he really does sound happy, even when he’s scolding his brother. Frustrated too, of course, but there’s no denying the tall skeleton’s good humor. It’s infectious, and you feel your own mood improve slightly. Sure, Sans was a complete bust, but at least now you’d be able to spend time with Papyrus. If you’re incredibly lucky, maybe you’ll even make it to his fight and then subsequent hangout.
“NYEH-HEH-HEH-HEH!” Rings out through the air, and you give in and chuckle. “HEH!” comes the parting call, and you know that Papyrus has left.
“ok, you can come out now.” You slowly step out from behind the lamp, giving it an appreciative pat for being such good cover. Sans is just standing where you left him, the grin on his face looking far more real now. You approach him, not sure what to say, but knowing that it’d be rude to just leave without saying goodbye.
“…Thanks, I guess,” you admit. “I suppose I’ll see you around?”
He doesn’t say anything, so you go ahead and start walking away. “hey, pal,” he calls out, and you stop. “i'm not going to drag you to the king, but…” he shifts, then winks. “i'll keep an eye socket out for ya’.”
Genuine warmth floods through you at his pronouncement and you offer him a smile in return. “Thanks, Sans. Eye appreciate it.” You tap just below your eye in time with the pun, and he lets out a startled laugh.
“in return,” Sans continues, “would you mind doin’ me a favor?” You nod warily, already feeling the weight of future exhaustion. “my brother’s been kind of down lately… he’s never seen a human before. and seeing you might just make his day.” That was an odd thought – that your presence could make someone feel better, rather than worse. “don’t worry, he’s not dangerous. even if he tries to be.”
“…Alright,” you acquiesce. It wasn’t like you could avoid Papyrus or his puzzles, and you already knew that the vibrant skeleton wouldn’t kill a fly – or a human, as was the case here.
“thanks a million. i'll be up ahead.” With that, Sans turned around and walked back the way you both came, back in the direction of the Ruins. You feel a spark of bitter anger – if he had used that power to just take you to the king, you wouldn’t have to keep thinking about ways you have and you will screw up – but it fades quickly, lacking the passion to keep burning.
You head forward yourself, but unlike Sans, in the correct direction. You quickly come to the first crossroads; the path splits up, with a branch turning left while the other continues straight. You peer down the left of the fork, and think you can spy a glimpse of water through the trees. This must be the first save location outside the Ruins, then.
Scanning the small clearing, you look for any sign of a Save point: a glowing yellow star, a feeling of determination…but there’s nothing. Stepping forward, you reach the spot where you’re pretty sure the Save spot was in the game. “The convenience of the lamp still fills me with determination?” You mutter questioningly under your breath. Much to your expectations, nothing happens.
A bitter smile slips across your face without your consent. “Of course it doesn’t.”
.oOo. .oOo. .oOo.
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You can’t see it, but over on AO3, Sans is actually speaking in Comic Sans.
So, you’ve left the ruins. The style changes slightly, as we leave Toriel behind and make contact with the Skelebros, who I utterly adore... as will become abundantly clear soon enough.
This is actually five chapters behind where it is on AO3 and FF.net ... oops.
Lostale Ch 6 - Rocky Road and Nice Cream
Summary: You make your way through Snowdin Forest. It’s simultaneously much easier and just as hard as you thought it would be. The snow passes by in a blur, but you’re about to reach the end of your emotional tether… Words: 2,380
Despite the disappointment of not being able to Save, you have to continue on. You’re already dragging your feet, not looking forward to trudging through all of the cold snow. You don’t feel numb just yet; even the now-dried tear tracks feel almost warm. You wonder how long it will take for the cold to sink in.
Skipping the side path, you make your way straight ahead. There is no need for detours or dawdling – there was nothing you didn’t already know about the room to your left. Instead, you decide to just go straight forward as far as you can. You don’t even stop at the box, not needing nor wanting the tough glove. You weren’t going to fight back against any monsters. They didn’t deserve to be hurt.
Papyrus voice carries clearly along the path, and you have to stop for a moment beside a small rock to admire the clarity and sheer volume he was projecting. The skeleton must have heard you, because he turned away from Sans and to your direction. You study his face, skeletal but not monstrous. You think it might be a lot more terrifying if you weren’t already familiar with Papyrus’ good heart, and accustomed yourself to the sight of skeletons.
Papyrus, however, was not accustomed to the sight of you. He looked to Sans for guidance, only to find the smaller skeleton facing you. Papyrus couldn’t see, but Sans was winking at you. When Papyrus twisted back to see what Sans had just been looking at, Sans turned to face his brother. Papyrus turned to Sans for help again, but Sans was once more apparently studying you. Papyrus turned to copy him…
You felt a fond smile grow on your face as you watched the two monsters begin to spin in place, unsure of which direction to look. Sans kept his hands tucked in his pockets as he spun around surprisingly quickly, yet somehow lazily? Papyrus ended up flinging himself all over the place as he twirled, and you could just catch a look of confusion in the brief moments he was facing your direction.
Papyrus gave up, and just turned away from you, and leant down to whisper into Sans ear…ear-hole? Where his ear would be if he were a human? Sans obliged, leaning closer to his brother, but you couldn’t see either of their expressions. That did nothing to stop you from hearing Papyrus’ booming voice – it carried marvelously through the snowy landscape. “SANS!! OH MY GOD!! IS THAT…A HUMAN!?!?!??!?!”
You tried to hide your smile as both brothers turned back to look for ‘a human’. You already know that Sans is going to pull the obnoxious brother card, but can’t quite bring yourself to interfere. “uhhhh…” Sans turns to Papyrus with his standard grin in place, but you can almost see the wicked spark in his eye. “actually, i think that’s a rock.”
You helpfully reach out and pat the rock in question – it comes up to your knees, so it barely takes any effort. What was such a large rock doing in the middle of the path? Papyrus’ face falls, and you can see disappointment written clear across it. “OH.” His voice is quieter, this time.
“hey, what’s that beside the rock?” Sans nods to you, and you manage to muster up a wave for the downcast skeleton, drawing his attention back towards you.
Said skeleton immediately brightens up, his voice even louder what appears to be his normal volume as he speaks. “OH MY GOD!!!” He leans back over to Sans, and whispers slightly more successfully than the time before. “IS… IS THAT A HUMAN?”
Sans faux whispers back, loud enough for you to hear, “yes.”
“OH MY GOD!!!” You never knew Papyrus was so religious. “SANS! I FINALLY DID IT!! UNDYNE WILL… I’M GONNA… I’LL BE SO…” Papyrus seems to have lost his words in his excitement, and you can’t help but feel the gentle tug of amusement. “POPULAR!!! POPULAR!!! POPULAR!!!” Papyrus shouted at the top of his non-existent lungs.
The energy overflowing off the skeleton was managing to hype you up slightly, and you almost felt excited yourself. Papyrus drew himself back up to full height, and coughed into his fist. “…’AHEM’” he said, and you wondered if just saying the sound had the same effect as clearing your throat if you didn’t have a throat to clear. In any case, Papyrus certainly seemed to have pulled himself together, and was now staring you down with a surprisingly ferocious face. “HUMAN! YOU SHALL NOT PASS THIS AREA!” Have the skeletons watched the Lord of the Rings? “I, THE GREAT PAPYRUS, WILL STOP YOU!!! I WILL THEN CAPTURE YOU! YOU WILL BE DELIVERED TO THE CAPITRAL! THEN… THEN!!!”
Papyrus composure faltered slightly as he tried to continue. “I’M NOT SURE WHAT’S NEXT.” He recovered quickly, however, continuing along with his previous enthusiasm. “IN ANY CASE! CONTINUE… ONLY IF YOU DARE!!!” His intense look slipped into something far happier before he dashed off, already laughing at the top of his breath. “NYEH HEH HEH HEH HEH HEH HEH HEH!!!”
You mentally shrugged and began walking towards Sans and the exit to the next room, as ready as you will ever be to continue on. “well, that went well. don’t sweat it, kid.” You glance over to see him just as relaxed as before, easy grin on his face. “seriously kid, you can chill out. not all the monsters here are as friendly as my bro, but i’m sure they’ll warm up to you soon enough.”
You already knew that the monsters are more than happy to make friends, but that doesn’t make you any less aware of the times you had died to them when playing the game. Sans is probably just trying to make sure you don’t lash out back at the monsters in fear, but he doesn’t need to worry about that. He’ll probably figure out soon enough that you’re willing to take the blows without attacking back, preferably before you get killed…but it’s not like it would make much difference, would it?
…No, you need to speak to the king, to argue for peace on both monster and humankinds behalf. Shaking yourself out of your thoughts, you notice that Sans has already disappeared. You don’t want to move, but you force yourself down the path once more. You need to keep walking, moving towards the goal you’ve set for yourself.
.oOo. .oOo. .oOo.
You’re startled to realize that you’ve successfully made it most of the way to Snowdin without dying along the way. Most of the teenage monsters were avoiding you, though you did run into and subsequently immediately ditch Jerry. Doggo had been easy to pet and get past, and you quickly left him smoking on dog treats. You pet Lesser dog once when you first met him, and then several more times when he abandoned making his snow-dog and excitedly rushed up to you for more pets. You even managed to disguise your scent and quickly bypassed the dog couple, though your clothes had suffered from the experience.
You wince, as your clothes hadn’t been the only thing to suffer from that battle, and gently rubbed at where the deep gash in your side had been. There axes were sharp, and even though adrenaline and fear had done their point in helping you dodge, it hadn’t been enough to escape without injury. As soon as the couple had left, you had fumbled for one of the Nice Creams you had bought. “Love yourself; I love you!” Ha! What a joke. Even though the words were a clear lie, you still felt warmth blossom inside you as the magic healed your wounds.
Thankfully, Doggo and Lesser Dog had dropped enough gold to pay for several of frozen treats – you hadn’t needed to bother with snow golf to collect any more funds. Sans was there as well; he’d already given his barely-useful blue stop sign speech earlier, and he had tried to sell you from fried snow. You humored him the first time, agreeing to pay 5G for what was essentially water, but just shrugged noncommittally when he bumped the price of his ‘product’ up to 50G. He didn’t seem too put out, so you didn’t feel too bad at not playing along any longer. He hadn’t played along with your plan, after all… admittedly, if he had, you definitely would not have been able to humor him. It would be a bit hard to play along if you were dead.
You barely humored him at his crossword puzzle, as well. You had stopped for just long enough to glance down at it and see the it was technically unsolvable, just like the endless puzzle that was life, but you felt that if you paused now you would never start again. You listened to the following brotherly squabble with a hint of fondness. All the monsters down here were just too good, too precious to have been purposefully trapped down in this small, confined cave. You agreed that Crosswords were harder to Papyrus’ dismay, but you honestly agreed with the smaller skeleton and you couldn’t muster up the energy to lie.
Papyrus’ spaghetti had been… well. You weren’t exactly sure what to think of the dish, but it was entirely frozen solid, so you didn’t get to try any… not that you wanted to. It looked fine from the outside, but the clink it had made when you poked it with a fork was vaguely ominous, and you remembered theories about how terrible Papyrus spaghetti really was. This effort was supposed to be almost edible according to Sans, if you were remembering correctly, but what did that even mean?
You supposed it didn’t actually matter. You couldn’t eat it, and you weren’t even filled with Determination by the hungry mouse nearby. You were just depressed that Papyrus was trying so hard, but that it was going to waste. Even if the mouse one day heated up the spaghetti, what did it matter? The lovingly crafted spaghetti would just sit there, eternally uneaten and unwanted by everyone who noticed it.
When Papyrus asked you about the spaghetti, you weren’t sure how to respond. You didn’t want to cause any hurt, but you also didn’t want to lie. In the end, you just admitted that you couldn’t figure out how to warm it up. Papyrus seemed slightly saddened by this, but he almost instantly bounced back to full brightness. Literally – he was almost bouncing in place, bright smile on his face as he ‘guided’ you through his puzzles.
They weren’t exactly very complex puzzles, so it only took you a few tries to get the second X/O puzzle right. It was a bit harder when you weren’t looking at it from a top-down perspective, but you thought that you could almost see how it resembled Papyrus from a ground view…if you squinted and leant back a little, maybe tilted your head slightly. The puzzle-making skeleton just kept getting more excited by your “INCREDIBLE PUZZLE-SOLVING PROWESS”, and he rushed ahead past you and Sans to ensure that the rest of his puzzles were in top condition.
The lazy skeleton was waiting on the other side of where the spikes had been before you solved the puzzle. He winked and admitted that, “nothing is my favorite thing to do.” This startled you into a bitter laugh.
“That sounds about right,” you admit. “Luckily for me, that’s probably what I’ve got to look forward to once I help break the barrier.” After you were killed and your soul used, you wouldn’t have to keep going. Either you faded to the back of the mind of whoever absorbed you, or your soul just passed on to wherever souls went. Either would make you – well, not happy, but… You wouldn’t be hurting any more.
Sans eyed you seriously at your response, and you weren’t sure whether he was more curious or morbidly amused. “you’re really dead-set on this, huh?” You huffed out slightly harder than normal, the only sign of your amusement as you nodded in agreement. “well. guess it isn’t my business, but, uh…” he trailed off. “isn’t there anything you want to live for?”
That was the wrong question to ask. All it did was make you think of the reasons you had to die – all your reasons to live had already passed on. “Nope,” you said succinctly.
The skeleton closed his eyes, and you wondered despite yourself how that was even possible with solid bone. “huh. you really think there’s nobody waiting for you, nobody that cares for you?”
He’s talking about Toriel, or trying to find out more about your background. Either way, the answer is the same. “Nope,” you repeat.
“you sure about that?” Why was he still pressing for more answers? Didn’t he love doing nothing? Why wouldn’t he just let you –
“There’s no one,” you firmly declare, and level your best glare on him. He just shrugs it off with an easy smile that you’re starting to really despise.
“funny. i could have sworn that i heard from someone who cares about you very much.” You never thought you’d think this before, but you just wanted Sans to shut up.
“You think Toriel cares about me?” You can’t help the bitter laughter that spills from your lips. “She cares about an idea, an image; I’m just someone who was there was she needed anybody. I could have been anybody – hell, I’m just a nobody! She just wants someone because her own kids are dead, and that’s exactly what I’m going to be soon enough! So why don’t you just drop it, and let me drop dead in peace? This is hard enough as it is!”
You’re screaming by the end of your rant, but Sans looks unfazed. He looks ready to retort, but you aren’t listening any more. You don’t want to listen to him, to his words, to his attempt to make you want to live. Why is he even trying? Why won’t he just give up? Why was he wasting any effort on you? The only thing you’re good for is dying. That’s the only way you won’t hurt anyone else.
.oOo. .oOo. .oOo.
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Also on AO3 here and FF.net here. (If you visit AO3, the skeletons are speaking in the proper fonts!)
Yeah. You just blew up at Sans in complete frustration. …well, at least it’s better than the numb void you were feeling before?
In the next chapter, Papyrus takes a much more predominant role!
Lostale Ch 7 - Burning Bridges
Summary: Propelled by the power of your fury, you storm off through the Underground. Hopefully your less-than-positive emotions won’t place you in a bad situation… Words: 2,541 Warning for being injured
You blaze your way through the next rooms in a fury, anger outweighing your exhaustion. Indignation at Sans filled you with the energy to continue onwards. What right did he have to try to make you want to live, when it was the only thing you could do, when he himself had already given up? All he would do would be to make this harder for you, more painful for everyone despite your best efforts.
In your anger, you misstep and begin sliding the wrong way along the ice puzzle. Panic instantly replaces anger, freezing your veins as you see the cliffs edge approaching. No, no, no, no! You try to scrabble backwards, sideways, anyways but forward – the ice is too slick. You can’t stop yourself as you pitch over the edge.
Whump. Your heart is beating far too fast in your chest, your breath coming in heavy pants, and your lungs hurt – but you’re alive. You sit, dazed in the snow, safe and intact. You place a hand over your heart, trying to slow down the rapid pace. You’re unhurt from the fall, despite the tall drop.
You stare uncomprehendingly at the hill above you. How had that not hurt? Had you landed on golden flowers again? You peered down, and see that your but had firmly landed on a large pile of snow. You had sunk into the snowy covering, but weren’t even touching the ground. …The Underground was ridiculous, you decided.
Shakily, you stood up and brushed the snow off your clothes. You should have remembered that Papyrus wouldn’t activate a puzzle that could genuinely hurt anybody, despite his affinity for spikes. Right in front of you is his sculpture, incredibly detailed and apparently defying all laws of physics. You wonder just how much work went into this, how much time – how many times he spent the exact same time trying to create a perfect image of himself through the medium of snow.
At that point, you would have given up and just created snow-lumps like Sans did. Expectantly, you turn to find the lazy lump that was always there… only to see an actual snow sculpture in its place. You stared at it, disbelieving. Was that really…?
You wandered over, and trailed a hand on top of the creation. Yes, Sans had really made a snow-hot-dog. Snow-‘dog. This skeleton…
You felt your anger at the snow-apostrophe-dog’s creator slide, replaced with bemused amusement and confusion. Why was this different? Why was Sans putting in any effort beyond just being a friendly stalker? Had… had he not given up yet?
Guilt washed over you like a cold shower, reminding you just how cruel you’d been to him when he’d only been trying to help. You’d shouted at him, hadn’t you? Thrown away Toriel’s love back into his face, declared it worthless? You were sick, weak, pathetic; you didn’t deserve the affection you knew Toriel did hold for you. She did care, and you’d spat upon that.
You were a cad, a coward, and you deserved the anger Sans would no doubt be feeling towards you. You’d essentially told him that his friend didn’t matter, that her grief made her deluded… You’d even given him her name, when for whatever reason, they had specifically never told each other that information.
Well, you guessed that Sans definitely wouldn’t help you out now. It was a tossup as to whether or not he’d still be willing to keep an eye-socket out for your death, and if he did, it would only be for monster-kinds benefit, not yours.
You make your way back up through the hill in a daze, and your thoughts are as slippery as the tiles you cross. You manage to make it through without slipping again, and you feel a pile of snow land on your head before it shatters. You’ll never know what shape it took, and for whatever reason, this fact only makes you more depressed.
To the right is a path that leads down to Sans, where he shows off his short-cutting skills. You send it a guilty glance and continue forward, unwilling to confront Sans. You didn’t know how angry he would be with you. You can’t remember how he had appeared during the tile puzzle right after your argument – you’d shot straight through, and he hadn’t lingered behind. You wince, and could only hope that your abrupt and irritable behavior hadn’t offended Papyrus. Great, that was just another thing you could feel guilty about.
You would apologize to Papyrus if you ever saw him again. First, though, you had to make it through the snow poff room and Greater Dog. You were not looking forward to the upcoming fight, and desperately wished that you could save. You’d been lucky so far, managing to quickly disarm the dogs due to your foreknowledge, and the rest of the forest’s inhabitants had left you alone. There wasn’t a quick fix for Greater Dog’s battle though, so you braced yourself as best you could before approaching the last snow poff. Hopefully Sans was close by, despite his doubtless anger at you. This was probably going to hurt.
.oOo. .oOo. .oOo.
Everything hurt. Your body was sore, and you could already feel bruises forming on your skin. Your chest felt compressed, damaged, and you wondered if Greater Dog had messed up your ribs when he lunged at your chest for cuddles. Your hands were numb for being out in the cold for so long and then the sheer amount of repetitive stroking motions you had made to soothe the excited dog.
Greater Dog was long gone by now, and you wished you could see how much HP you had left – or even had in the first place – but that was impossible. You might be Underground, but there was no graphical user interface for you to interact with or read. It didn’t matter, though. It didn’t matter how much you were aching, how much you wanted to sleep.
The next stage of your adjusted plan was drawing close. If Sans wouldn’t bring you to the Capital, like his job said he should do, then you’d just have to get a member of the Royal Guard to do it. Papyrus wouldn’t drag you to the capital, but whenever he defeated Frisk in a fight… he always trapped them and locked them in his shed for Undyne, didn’t he? …For varying definitions of ‘trap’ and ‘lock’, of course.
There was no need for you to heal. The Nice Cream in your pocket-space inventory could wait for later. The quicker Papyrus dropped you down to minimum health, the quicker this would be over with. …The quicker you got moving, the quicker Papyrus would fight you.
With a groan, you rose to your feet and started forward. Greater Dog had pushed you to the ground and then never relented in his pursuit for affection. It had been adorable in the first few moments, before it quickly turned agonizing under his sheer force.
Luckily, the last bridge was right before you. You tapped a foot along the first ‘plank’ to ensure that the bridge was sturdy, and the hard rock you felt reassured you. Bless Papyrus’ heart for painting over the rock formation to make it look scarier. You were grateful that he’d also installed rope handrails, and gave them a gentle tug to ensure they were secured. The rope was taut, barely moving despite your efforts. Good.
You started slowly along the bridge, keeping a tight grasp on the ropes in case you tripped. You felt exhausted, and wouldn’t be surprised if you stumbled. Wouldn’t that be a terrifying waste of a death?
“HUMAN!” Papyrus interrupted your thoughts with his shout, and you looked up from your feet to see the two skeleton brothers waiting on the other side of the bridge. “THIS IS YOUR FINAL AND MOST DANGEROUS CHALLENGE!” The most challenging thing about this would be keeping a straight face, not showing any amusement or pain. “BEHOLD! THE GAUNTLET OF DEADLY TERROR!”
You examined the faces of the two across from you. Papyrus looked determined to stop you, to defeat you with his last puzzle. Sans…didn’t seem to be angry, but you weren’t really sure. He was wearing that same grin, just the same as always. Had it even dropped when you’d been yelling at him? Your anger had distracted you so much that you didn’t notice.
What immediately caught your notice now, however, was the giant spurt of flame erupting beside you…and the spiky mace above you…and the two spears pointed directly at you…and the canon, which at this point, seemed like the least threatening weapon…if it weren’t for the dog, which was happily bobbing from a rope. Yeah. The ‘Gauntlet of Deadly Terror’ was pretty intimidating – or it would have been, if you didn’t expect Papyrus to shut it down rather than activate it.
Until then, you simply enjoyed the heat from the flames. It burned against your numb skin, but this pain felt amazing. You took a step closer, holding out your hands to the warmth, and sighed with relief as feeling started to return.
“HUMAN! PLEASE BE CAREFUL! THAT IS NOT HOW YOU SOLVE THIS TRAP!” You blink and look back at Papyrus, who now seemed extremely worried. Why? You were just warming yourself with the nice fire. Sure, it would be dangerous if you got too much closer, but you weren’t that much of an imbecile…
“heh. i don’t think they can take the heat, bro.” Sans shrugged, and you wondered how much effort it took to look that careless.
“SANS!” Papyrus stamped his foot once, but turned back to face you, elegantly rubbing a gloved hand under his chin in thought. “DESPITE YOUR DEPLORABLE PUNNERY, I DO BELIEVE THAT YOU HAVE A POINT. THIS CHALLENGE SEEMS…A LITTLE UNFAIR,” Papyrus admitted sheepishly. “BESIDES! IT WOULD BE TOO EASY TO CAPTURE THE HUMAN WHEN THEY ARE ALREADY WOUNDED!”
You blinked in surprise. You were pretty sure, despite the sad state of your memory, that this wasn’t how the script went. How did Papyrus even notice you were hurt, anyways?
“IN FACT! I BELIEVE THAT WE SHOULD ENSURE THE HUMAN IS AT FULL HEALTH, SO THAT THE HUMAN CAN FULLLY APPRECIATE THE MAGNIFICENCE THAT IS THE GREAT PAPYRUS’ PUZZLES! NYEH-HEH-HEH-HEH!” Wait, what?
Before you had the time to recognize what was going on, Papyrus had dismissed the death trap and was striding towards you. You were frozen in place, looking up, up, up at the tall skeleton right before you. This was the closest you’d ever been to Papyrus, and now you could clearly see just how much taller than you he was. His bones looked larger than a normal human’s, and his face was far more pointed and narrow.
Despite his threatening countenance, his easy grin and warm kindness kept you from truly panicking. You were confused and uncertain, but not scared. He wasn’t crowding you, just standing right before you on the bridge. If you wanted, you could back up, but you didn’t see the need to just yet. He wasn’t…doing anything, just looking at you and now he was bending over?
“HUMAN?” He questioned softly. “WILL YOU COME WITH ME, PLEASE?” Automatically, you nodded before you even registered his question. There was no way that you could deny him anything when he asked with such a sincere voice. “ARE YOU ABLE TO KEEP WALKING?” You nodded again, more hesitantly this time, as you started to understand what he was asking. Your ribs still hurt, and you were slow, but you could keep moving forward…probably.
“GOOD! I AM GLAD!” Papyrus stood back up, no longer on your height, but you could still clearly see the smile on his face. “THEN, HUMAN, PLEASE FOLLOW ME BACK TO MY MAGNIFICENT ABODE, THE HOME OF THE GREAT PAPYRUS! IT IS THE BEST PLACE TO BEGIN FEELING BETTER, NO MATTER WHAT THE PROBLEM IS!” He held out a gloved hand to you, and your fists tightened reflexively on the rope railing.
You didn’t move. This…was not how things were supposed to go. You were supposed to fight Papyrus and then wait in his shed until Undyne arrived, and then be ferried to the barrier – either in person, or as a soul. Papyrus wasn’t supposed to stop and aid you. He wasn’t supposed to try to help you.
You take a faltering step backwards. This wasn’t making sense. You took another step backwards, barely feeling the rope burns starting to form on your hands. You were so confused. You stared at his face and step backwards, but it was locked in your vision, unmoving. What was he doing? You stepped back, but Papyrus was still too close to you, right there when you needed to stay away from him.
“HUMAN? THAT IS NOT FOLLOWING ME, NOR THE CORRECT WAY TO GO.” His voice rang in your ears, inescapable and powerful. “IN FACT, I BELIEVE THAT YOU ARE GOING IN THE EXACT WRONG DIRECTION!” He was slowly moving toward you, hand still outstretched. “LET ME GUIDE YOU, HUMAN. I PROMISE THAT I WILL NOT HURT YOU.”
He couldn’t promise that. That was the exact thing that he shouldn’t be offering. If he wouldn’t hurt you, then he would be the one getting hurt. You would be hurting him – were already hurting him. You could see the sting of rejection in your face. He didn’t know why you were denying him – he could only guess that you were afraid of him, or that he’d said something wrong. That he was wrong, when in reality, the only thing wrong here was you.
Go with him and make him feel better now, or run away so that he wouldn’t be hurt later? (Could you even run at all, with your body so sore? Maybe you should have eaten that Nice Cream after all, and maybe this could all have been avoided. Maybe he would let you get away?) This was why Sans should have just taken you straight to the king. Now it was inevitable that you hurt Papyrus, just like you’d already hurt Toriel.
Your heart hurt, and your head was spinning. What should you do? You hear a keening whine echoing between the cliffs, and realize that it’s you making the sound. You’ve let go of the ropes and crouched into a ball, rocking back and forth. Go or stay? Leave or go? Listen or Leave? Pain now or later? You were hurting, everything was so confusing, and you didn’t know what to do! Back and forth, back and forth, back and forth –
Something was surrounding you, lifting you. You curl up tighter, trying to draw yourself into a ball, trying to ignore whatever was going on in the world. You didn’t know what to do, and you couldn’t deal with this again, not so soon. You’d already done so much today, tried so hard. Let someone else deal with this, now. The pain was too much for you to handle – mental, physical, emotional -
Darkness came calling, beckoning you to fall. Gratefully, you let go, relaxing into the sturdy yet infinitely gentle hold. For now you would rest – everything else could come later.
.oOo. .oOo. .oOo.
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Also on AO3 here and FF.net here. (If you visit AO3, the skeletons are speaking in the proper fonts!)
…so. You fainted, again, into the arms of someone who cares, again. At least this time it can be attributed to blood loss and emotional fatigue. …Is this a bad time to mention that I suffer from choice paralysis? I’ve never fainted from it, but I have been locked into place for indeterminable amounts of time, suffering mental agony the entire time…