Papyrus (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
spaghettimonster) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
lostcarnival2016-11-17 06:42 pm
spaghettimonster) wrote in lostcarnival2016-11-17 06:42 pm
[CLOSED] A COUPLE OF BONEHEADS
Who: Papyrus, Papyrus' Nightmare, and Sans
What: Accidental napping leads to an accidental nightmare
When: Season 1 Day 15, late at night!
Where: The carnival grounds.
Warnings: Whatever comes with a nightmare, brother issues, maybe body horror.
Papyrus never meant to fall asleep. Really, he'd meant to not sleep at all while they were here, after the Ringmaster's first announcement. He could stay awake, stay busy, for a few days. If push came to shove, he could take a nap in the trailer, surrounded by his earlier attempts at dreamcatchers. Maybe a week without a nap was too much, or maybe he underestimated the power of the sleepy tea. Either way, it was his own fault, and no one else's, and he'd be sure to say so to the Ringmaster if he ever got the chance.
Maybe thirty minutes into picking up debris from around the ferris wheel, metaphorically skull-splitting yawns began to strike. Strong enough to make him dizzy. He leaned against the base of the ferris wheel, rubbing at his eyesockets, and considered going back to the trailer for a bit. In the minutes he considered this, he dozed off. After a week of depositing his creations near trailers and in the ownership of public nappers, there were no more stashed away in mysteriously deep pockets or secret phone-based dimensional storage spaces.
The skeleton sleeps.
The churning of the dreamworld twists his thoughts to unpleasant, frightening places.
The ambient magic of the place gives them form.
Shadows drip up, coalescing into a long, wavering figure. Its viscous form settles, as much as the word applies, with a bipedal form with long pale fingers... and a white, skeletal mask of a face. Broken, with cracks running through it and no particular distinction of the teeth. Like it had been partially melted, and even one of the eye sockets dripped nearly shut.
It was a mostly-forgotten dream, one that Papyrus preferred to avoid because... it made everything feel gray, and broken.
Like he felt, at the idea that Undyne was having so much fun that she couldn't bother to call. Like Sans wanted nothing to do with him. Like the people just wanted Asgore back, that they cared nothing for all the encouragement Papyrus had tried so hard to give them...
Lɪᴋᴇ ᴇᴠᴇʀʏᴛʜɪɴɢ ᴡᴏʀᴋᴇᴅ ᴘᴇʀꜰᴇᴄᴛʟʏ ᴡᴇʟʟ ᴡɪᴛʜᴏᴜᴛ ʜɪᴍ.
What: Accidental napping leads to an accidental nightmare
When: Season 1 Day 15, late at night!
Where: The carnival grounds.
Warnings: Whatever comes with a nightmare, brother issues, maybe body horror.
Papyrus never meant to fall asleep. Really, he'd meant to not sleep at all while they were here, after the Ringmaster's first announcement. He could stay awake, stay busy, for a few days. If push came to shove, he could take a nap in the trailer, surrounded by his earlier attempts at dreamcatchers. Maybe a week without a nap was too much, or maybe he underestimated the power of the sleepy tea. Either way, it was his own fault, and no one else's, and he'd be sure to say so to the Ringmaster if he ever got the chance.
Maybe thirty minutes into picking up debris from around the ferris wheel, metaphorically skull-splitting yawns began to strike. Strong enough to make him dizzy. He leaned against the base of the ferris wheel, rubbing at his eyesockets, and considered going back to the trailer for a bit. In the minutes he considered this, he dozed off. After a week of depositing his creations near trailers and in the ownership of public nappers, there were no more stashed away in mysteriously deep pockets or secret phone-based dimensional storage spaces.
The skeleton sleeps.
The churning of the dreamworld twists his thoughts to unpleasant, frightening places.
The ambient magic of the place gives them form.
Shadows drip up, coalescing into a long, wavering figure. Its viscous form settles, as much as the word applies, with a bipedal form with long pale fingers... and a white, skeletal mask of a face. Broken, with cracks running through it and no particular distinction of the teeth. Like it had been partially melted, and even one of the eye sockets dripped nearly shut.
It was a mostly-forgotten dream, one that Papyrus preferred to avoid because... it made everything feel gray, and broken.
Like he felt, at the idea that Undyne was having so much fun that she couldn't bother to call. Like Sans wanted nothing to do with him. Like the people just wanted Asgore back, that they cared nothing for all the encouragement Papyrus had tried so hard to give them...
Lɪᴋᴇ ᴇᴠᴇʀʏᴛʜɪɴɢ ᴡᴏʀᴋᴇᴅ ᴘᴇʀꜰᴇᴄᴛʟʏ ᴡᴇʟʟ ᴡɪᴛʜᴏᴜᴛ ʜɪᴍ.
no subject
"What can I say," he says, a bit of life coming back to him as the relief of this admission slowly takes effect. "I'm a silly kind of guy."
He'll take it, though. He has to remember - this time around things can be different.