☠ NOT SEEING THE BEACH FOR THE GRAINS ☠ [There's sand... absolutely everywhere. That's the first thing Papyrus is aware of, even before his inner monologue catches on to the part where his name is Papyrus. The sand's covering the ground, spilling into his clothes, grainy against his bones and pinching where it gets caught under the metal around his wrist.
He doesn't know how he got to be lying half-buried in sand, or why he's wearing these things, but he has words for a lot of the things going on. This is sand, that's a glove, the thing on his arm is some kind of metal... Maybe armor? Above him is full of bright, and Papyrus squints at the sky like he's never had to compensate for so much light in his life.
The sand falls in little streams as he pushes himself up, some of it catching in folds, and some of it... Well. Some of it, he has to look down and rap on the side of his skull, to knock it out of the holes in his face. The sensation, he finds, is not enjoyable. It's good to know he has preferences.]
☠ IT'S DANGEROUS TO GO ALONE ☠ [The marketplace is full of more things he doesn't remember, but all of it's better than the sand. Shops and carts selling various things all over, and his lack of money no obstacle - plenty are willing to haggle a trade of a short chore for a sale. Crowds of people, in a good variety of shapes - though not many skeletons to speak of.
There are at least some bones on display, in the windowsill of a spooky shop with plenty of crystals but no door. It's almost like it's not a real shop at all, the way nobody else stops there or looks at it. But Papyrus is drawn to it, long enough to examine the bones, knock on the window frame, and get appraised by a cloaked and shadowy figure within.
'Start with meditation,' the probably-a-merchant intones, pushing a bundle at him. 'Take this. Now get going, I'm closing for the day.' The curtain swishes shut with such force it should've been accompanied by the sound of a door slamming, leaving Papyrus with a robe, note, and candle in his hands. He considers them, then looks to the nearest passerby.]
Hey, do you know... how to meditate??
☠ A CULINARY EXPERIENCE TO ROCK HIS WORLD ☠ ['Surprise me,' Papyrus had said, not wanting to reveal that he didn't recognize many of the items listed on the menu. The chef bobbed in response, extending a tentacle his way without any cooking at all, uncurling it to reveal:]
A... rock?
[A heart-shaped one, at that. Papyrus accepts it, pretty sure he's recognizing it well enough to have the right word and an idea what it is - and none of those ideas connect to food. But he's not the expert here! Bottoms up.
...No, he concludes a painful moment later, it's not meant for chewing on. He shifts it in his mouth, stone clacking against teeth in a gentle cacophany, and stares pensively into the distance as he considers the flavor. Maybe he can politely spit it out, the moment the chef stops waving a tentacle in his face and turns away.]
☠ HOMEWARD BOUND ☠ [The sun is well past setting, he's given meditation a shot... and wound up with a small white dog for his trouble. A dog who insists it smells something else like him on the island, the way his clothes do. Maybe it's where he lives, they reason, and off they go! A dog and skeleton, on an island-roaming adventure.
It takes some wandering, and checking places he's already been through the day. Random shops in the boardwalk, a loop around the beach, even back up to one of the dents where the vending machine accosted him with vials.
But eventually, they reach a cabana he's sure he doesn't remember stepping into. And sitting right out in the open on a table is a set of keys with a skull, which almost certainly confirms it.]
Aha! This must be where I lay my head, huh? But... there's not much in here...
☠ WILDCARD ☠ [OOC: Looking for a different prompt? Papyrus will roam all over the place through the day and much of the night, so you can tag me with something, or catch me in the discord, plotting post, or swirlingflight to brainstorm one. And feel free to tag with action or prose, I'll match your style!]
PAPYRUS | Undertale | OTA
[There's sand... absolutely everywhere. That's the first thing Papyrus is aware of, even before his inner monologue catches on to the part where his name is Papyrus. The sand's covering the ground, spilling into his clothes, grainy against his bones and pinching where it gets caught under the metal around his wrist.
He doesn't know how he got to be lying half-buried in sand, or why he's wearing these things, but he has words for a lot of the things going on. This is sand, that's a glove, the thing on his arm is some kind of metal... Maybe armor? Above him is full of bright, and Papyrus squints at the sky like he's never had to compensate for so much light in his life.
The sand falls in little streams as he pushes himself up, some of it catching in folds, and some of it... Well. Some of it, he has to look down and rap on the side of his skull, to knock it out of the holes in his face. The sensation, he finds, is not enjoyable. It's good to know he has preferences.]
☠ IT'S DANGEROUS TO GO ALONE ☠
[The marketplace is full of more things he doesn't remember, but all of it's better than the sand. Shops and carts selling various things all over, and his lack of money no obstacle - plenty are willing to haggle a trade of a short chore for a sale. Crowds of people, in a good variety of shapes - though not many skeletons to speak of.
There are at least some bones on display, in the windowsill of a spooky shop with plenty of crystals but no door. It's almost like it's not a real shop at all, the way nobody else stops there or looks at it. But Papyrus is drawn to it, long enough to examine the bones, knock on the window frame, and get appraised by a cloaked and shadowy figure within.
'Start with meditation,' the probably-a-merchant intones, pushing a bundle at him. 'Take this. Now get going, I'm closing for the day.' The curtain swishes shut with such force it should've been accompanied by the sound of a door slamming, leaving Papyrus with a robe, note, and candle in his hands. He considers them, then looks to the nearest passerby.]
Hey, do you know... how to meditate??
☠ A CULINARY EXPERIENCE TO ROCK HIS WORLD ☠
['Surprise me,' Papyrus had said, not wanting to reveal that he didn't recognize many of the items listed on the menu. The chef bobbed in response, extending a tentacle his way without any cooking at all, uncurling it to reveal:]
A... rock?
[A heart-shaped one, at that. Papyrus accepts it, pretty sure he's recognizing it well enough to have the right word and an idea what it is - and none of those ideas connect to food. But he's not the expert here! Bottoms up.
...No, he concludes a painful moment later, it's not meant for chewing on. He shifts it in his mouth, stone clacking against teeth in a gentle cacophany, and stares pensively into the distance as he considers the flavor. Maybe he can politely spit it out, the moment the chef stops waving a tentacle in his face and turns away.]
☠ HOMEWARD BOUND ☠
[The sun is well past setting, he's given meditation a shot... and wound up with a small white dog for his trouble. A dog who insists it smells something else like him on the island, the way his clothes do. Maybe it's where he lives, they reason, and off they go! A dog and skeleton, on an island-roaming adventure.
It takes some wandering, and checking places he's already been through the day. Random shops in the boardwalk, a loop around the beach, even back up to one of the dents where the vending machine accosted him with vials.
But eventually, they reach a cabana he's sure he doesn't remember stepping into. And sitting right out in the open on a table is a set of keys with a skull, which almost certainly confirms it.]
Aha! This must be where I lay my head, huh? But... there's not much in here...
☠ WILDCARD ☠
[OOC: Looking for a different prompt? Papyrus will roam all over the place through the day and much of the night, so you can tag me with something, or catch me in the discord, plotting post, or