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#Post#: 110--------------------------------------------------
Handplates to Freedom
By: InterNutter Date: July 28, 2016, 2:51 am
---------------------------------------------------------
I also love the stuffing out of Zarla-S:
HTML http://zarla-s.tumblr.com
HTML http://zarla-s.tumblr.com
and hir handplates au:
HTML http://zarla-s.tumblr.com
/post/139516306171/okay-i-get-a-lot-of-questions-about-what-orde
r-the
HTML http://zarla-s.tumblr.com/post/139516306171/okay-i-get-a-lot-of-questions-about-what-order-the<br
/>and seeing those little baby skelebros going through all sorts
of inexplicable torture for no reason beyond science... Well...
I has teh feelz.
So I'm giving them a happier life.
This one's improvised whenever I have mood enough and time.
Questions are welcomed. As are edit suggestions.
So without further ado...
====8<====
Disclaimer: Undertale belongs to Toby Fox, long may he write
ground-breaking games with such lovable characters. The
Handplates AU belongs to Zarla-S, long may ze draw. And finally,
the whole concept of Toriel rescuing the tortured Skelebros
belongs to LoyaltyKask, who sent in the ask in the first place.
Peace, love, and serendipity to you all. All I own is this
story. I hope it's enjoyable.
Twice Upon a Dream
InterNutter
Abduction Day 1
(WDG-2P)
Something had... changed. Usually, when Two woke up, there was
pain. And he was on the soft platform, the one that He used
whenever recovery from experiments was... difficult. But there
was no pain. Two risked opening an eye. Then the other. Perfect
bi nocular vision, as He would say. Everything seemed normal.
But it wasn't.
Normal was pain. Normal was the small room with the electric
barrier and the hard platform that he and his brother were
allowed to sit or sleep on. Though they usually preferred the
floor. Normal was Him and His experiments. Normal was trying
again and again to understand Why... and an absence of answers.
But here was not normal. Here was soft and warm and... better
than the hard platforms. Two sat up. The walls were not grey.
They were not any of the bold colours of the colour cube,
either. He knew those names. White, Green, Red, Blue, Yellow,
and Orange. This was... strange. A colour he could not name. It
was almost like Red... but it was also like the Green of their
clothes. Weaker.
And another strangeness. One was across the other side of the
room, barely visible under his heavy, thick sheet. Just like
Two's, but it had different patterns. It, like the platform, was
soft and warm and it squished.
One was scared, Two could tell by the glow of his eye. Two only
knew one way to help him feel better, but he dared not risk it.
They were on the soft platforms for a reason.
"Brother," he whispered. "Are you hurt?"
"...no," said One. "...that's what's got me on edge... it's all
wrong."
"I'm scared, too," said Two. "I wish we could be scared
together."
Everything was strange. The light. The colours. The things
scattered around the room. The flat thing on the floor and the
big filing cabinet against the wall with only one door and
the... shorter, flatter filing cabinet with weird draws. And the
enormous box full of unfamiliar shapes. And the flat, square
shapes on the wall with... colours inside. Nothing made sense,
and Two wanted to be scared at the top of his lungs, but he knew
that would summon Him.
So he put both hands over his mouth and tried to be scared as
quietly as possible.
It didn't work. That, at least, was normal. Two was more than
used to his efforts not working. But what happened next... it
was so far away from normal that he almost fainted from the
shock.
The door in the wall opened. Softly and slowly. And by degrees,
a giant appeared. They were not Him, but they were something...
Other. Other was White. And wore Blue. And Other was much, much
bigger than Him. Two was so scared that he forgot about lying
quietly on the soft platform and stood up. Other was not going
to hurt One!
"Children?" said the Other. "I heard sounds. Are you awake?"
Two pressed himself against the Not-Quite-Red wall despite
himself. The world wavered and darkened around him, and he
wasn't sure that Other was doing it. "You keep back! Don't touch
us!"
(Toriel)
They had been hurt when she found them, taking a covert route
through the Underground and towards the Ruins. Whoever had left
them there (Toriel had her suspicions, but could not prove them)
was lucky that he or she was not present. There would have been
quite the battle. As it was, she had taken them and fled. And
spent quite a lot of herself trying to heal them. Poor children.
They had taken so many hurts.
Now she could hear one of them whimpering, so of course she came
to check on them.
What welcomed her was not gratitude, but suspicion and fear. The
taller one got up and stood on his bed. The shorter one was
hunkered under his covers. She had thought that giving them a
warm, comfortable room with their own clothing to choose from
and their own toys to play with would have been a welcome thing
to do. She was wrong. They were more scared than they had been
scarred.
Backed up against the wall, scared out of his wits and about to
faint, the taller one spoke. "Yoo keebak! Dun tush us!"
Evidently, their tormenter had not taught them to speak
properly. Just enough to make themselves understood, and no
more. Toriel fought to keep an angry expression off her face.
Fought to be what they needed. And what they needed was an
abundance of kindness. "I promise all will be well," she cooed.
"You are safe now. I will not harm you."
The smaller one moved around under his covers so he could peek
out from the foot of the bed. "...yeh whassa catch? yoo withim?"
"Absolutely not," she said. "I was only down there once, but I
saw more than enough to hate what he had done to you. There is
no catch, child. Only a home."
The unfamiliar word stuck in both their throats. She could hear
them repeating it under their breaths.
"Yes. Home. A place you will always belong within." Though she
ached to hold them close and kiss them and gift them with every
sign of parental love, she knew that would only frighten them.
"I am baking a pie."
Blank skeletal expression from the taller, and unadulterated
suspicion and hostility from the other.
"That's a form of food," she added. "When you are ready, you may
come out and have some. I will be waiting for you." She left,
and left the door open. Soon, they would smell the pie. And if
they were like any other monster children, hunger would soon
overwhelm their trepidation.
She had the pie cooked to perfection. Butterscotch and Cinnamon,
because nothing tempted a child like sweet things. And she had
enough magic to heal them quickly if they had an allergy. Toriel
cut slices and let the rich scent flood her new house. Set them
out on the table and kept them warm with her fire magic. Sat and
waited.
And waited.
And waited.
Shuffling noises eventually made her look up from her book. Ah.
There they came. Clinging to each other like they were all that
they had in the world. That each of them was all that they could
trust. She pretended to keep reading. They stopped when they
spotted her.
"...itsa trik," said the smaller one.
"Smels _good_," said the larger one. "Hungry."
Both their bodies were rumbling. She could hear it. How long
could they possibly resist the lure of sweet pie?
They edged around the doorway. Sidled along the wall. Made it
all the way to the table.
Toriel remained still. She did whisper, "Yes. You may have
some."
The taller of the two snatched a piece of pie off the table and
split it into halves for the other. Both ate quickly and with
their hands, while they hunkered on the floor. The smaller one
never took his gaze off of Toriel.
(WDG-1S)
There had to be a trick. A catch. A trap. Something was very
wrong with everything and One could not nail down what it was.
This... other creature had to be something like Him. Had to be.
There just wasn't anything else.
But this... pi... tasted so _nice_. He was almost lost in the
flavour of it. He was busy scraping crumbs out of his crevices
when it finally happened. The Other stood up. He froze in place
and reached for his brother. Too late to run. He hurried under
the heavy chairs and hoped they were enough. The big white feet
came closer. Closer and closer.
They had to be doomed!
But all that happened was another plate of pi. Resting just
within their reach.
Unbelievable. And the Other just walked away. Back to the chair
they had been sitting in earlier.
What kind of test was this?
One statched up the pi this time, splitting it in two for his
brother. It made him feel good. It made them both feel good.
Warm inside. And... better.
So very much better.
One would not sleep very well, that night. He had to keep watch.
Because the only time when He was kind, was when He was setting
up a newer, more painful experiment.
====8<====
Instalment one! What do you think? Keep going? Scrap it? Am I
the epitome of evil? Say something!
#Post#: 112--------------------------------------------------
Re: Handplates to Freedom
By: InterNutter Date: July 29, 2016, 2:02 am
---------------------------------------------------------
Well I guess I should at least tell Zarla-S that this exists.
After I'm done doing this part:
====8<====
Abduction Day 2
(WDG-1S)
His fault. It was his fault for not paying attention. For being
sleepy. Somehow, the Other got hold of them and took their
clothes and put them in a tub of warm water with bubbles[1] that
happened to be by the fire. There, she ruthlessly went over
their entire skeletal system with a soft sponge and showed them
how to play in the bubbles.
Okay. So it wasn't much like the way He did things, but it was
frightening because One didn't know what was going on half the
time.
And after the Other was satisfied, it was out of the tub and
into thick, soft, fluffy towels and the big, soft chair while
the Other busied themself with water disposal and mopping and
putting away. Two clung to him and he clung to Two, not knowing
what to expect out of the Other.
Something had to be wrong with being naked, they knew that much.
And living in fear of Him had taught both brothers not to ask
questions. And it had taught them to fear anything new.
The Other returned, eventually, with their sleeves rolled back
down and colourful bundles. Clothing. But not like the weak
Green things that He had tied to their bodies. These were
strange shapes. And colours. Some were small. Some were not.
The Other had so many new words for them. Underclothes. Shirt.
Pants. Coat. Scarf. Hat. They showed the brothers how they
worked against their enormous body, but the things were clearly
too small for the Other. The things were... brother-sized. It
was clear that they weren't getting the weak Green clothes back.
And He had made it clear that there was no point resisting.
Two went first. Learning how to put on the layers of clothings.
He was ever more trusting and let the Other know about his
preferences. Which were jarring to One's eyes, but he looked
so... _happy_. He was even glowing green.
When was the last time that had happened?
Two being happy gave him the courage to stand up and let the
Other assist in getting his clothings on. He consistently chose
the darkest of Blue that the Other always had available. And of
course One kept telling the Other to be careful, and that One
only had one HP.
The Other made a show of healing him. Big, gentle hands and warm
energy. It didn't do a thing, but One couldn't remember a single
moment when any other being but Two had spent any care on him.
He relaxed. Just for a moment. and stretched out his arms...
The Other was holding him! And Two! And Two was holding him,
too. There was no squeezing on his soul, and the Other had a
gentle enough grip that he could escape if he wanted... but it
felt so wrong in all the right ways. He let himself be weak. Let
himself lean into the warm, squishy softness of the Other. Let
himself believe, just for a moment, that everything was going to
be all right.
He closed his eyes.
And was right back into the cold, dark, grey and the hard floor
of the cell he shared with Two. Sitting on the platform and
watching as He had Two's arm and... snapped it.
One jolted away with a scream. This place was wrong! This place
was a trick! This place was a trap! All he could say was "NO!"
as he ran away from the Other. Wrestled open the door that
neither of them had tried. Ran out and out and--
"NO!"
The black shape loomed before him. Frightened him into
stillness. Made him cower on the ground and wait for death. He
couldn't fight it. He was too weak.
(Toriel)
Too soon, damnit. For all that they needed comfort and love, it
was too soon to expect them to accept it. But -oh- it felt so
good to hold two children in her arms. Even if it was for a
handful of seconds.
It hurt her heart when the smaller one started shrieking in
fear. There was a book on this. The humans called it 'Shell
Shock' amongst many other names[2]. But she knew it as Recurring
Terrors. People who saw too many horrors, and saw them again and
again, long after those terrors had finished. She let him run,
and let the taller one follow.
She lagged behind, vision veiled behind her tears. They deserved
more than she could give. They deserved far more than either of
them would accept.
"Bruth'r," cooed the taller one. He hunkered near the smaller
one, who was huddled at the base of the tree. The tree that
never kept its leaves for long. She had seen it so often that
she didn't think of it. It had to be frightening for them both.
"Bruth'r" the taller one repeated. "Issokay. I'm heer." Warm,
comforting, orange light flared from his eyes and swarmed around
them both.
The smaller one's ragged and dangerous breathing slowed. They
both fell to embracing each other.
It had been wrong to give them separate beds. She could see
that, now. What they needed the most was each other. One
consistent thing amidst all these changes around them. Getting
them to accept her was going to be a big step. Bigger, perhaps,
than they would be prepared to take for... years...
And the loss of her own two children hit her like a hammer. It
was an older wound, certainly, but having two children so close
and yet out of her reach, seemed to rip it open anew. All she
could do was her utmost to cry quietly.
(WDG-P2)
Something really weird happened. Just after he got One soothed
out of his fear-cramp, he heard something strange. It sounded
like... crying. But neither he nor One was doing it.
They both looked. Stared.
It was the Other. _They_ were the one doing all the crying.
"He never did that," said Two.
"...i know," said One. "...what if they grab us again?"
"Was it so bad the last time?"
One seemed to think about this. "...guess not." He shrugged and
began a cautious approach. "...what's the worst that can
happen?"
Two approached cautiously as well. They had been through a lot
of the worst that could happen. And the Other was so much bigger
than Him. Nobody could possibly hurt the Other. And yet... there
they were. Weeping. Sitting on the ground and pushing their
hands to their face and shedding real tears. They were huddled
up like they were truly miserable.
One cautiously poked them. Then danced backwards as if expecting
the Other to strike.
Sniff. Sob. Gulp, "I... I am sorry, little ones. I didn't mean
to frighten you." Her voice fell to a whisper. "It has been...
so _long_... since I held a child." They wiped their face with
their sleeve. "Please do not be afraid. I would never harm you."
"...what?" said One.
"You said... 'sorry'," said Two. "He never said any such thing."
"...not without the word 'not' in front of it," rumbled One.
"...what's the catch? ...why are you being... nice?"
The Other looked more than confused. Staring at the two brothers
as if... well... He would call the Other 'stupid'. "It's the way
people should be... especially to children. And... it's what you
deserve."
Two turned to face his brother. "I think we should trust them."
====8<====
More... whenever.
[1] I'm assuming that, since these are _living_ skeletons, that
soap and water will do no harm.
[2] Toriel is REALLY old. Or her source material is, since
Monsterkind only has what humanity throws away.
#Post#: 114--------------------------------------------------
Re: Handplates to Freedom
By: InterNutter Date: July 30, 2016, 2:22 am
---------------------------------------------------------
Part the third
====8<====
Abduction Day 3
(Excerpt from Toriel's diary)
I visit the chamber of flowers whenever they sleep. These little
skeletons need me, that much is true, but I dare not forsake any
fallen child for their comfort. I fear what a young human might
do to them. Yet I must not allow a fallen child to fall into
Asgore's hands. Not after what I found out.
Nobody had fallen, today.
Following yesterday's... misadventure... neither of the brothers
have wanted to venture beyond the house. This is good in the
short term, as there are many dangers that could harm them or
even... kill... the smaller one.
They need names. And I need to think about how to introduce them
to the idea.
(WDG-2P)
It was very strange. But then, everything was very strange. The
food. The Clothes. The things. And the Other.
They got up from the big chair so they could sit on the floor.
"Hello children," they said. "I would like to talk with you,
today." That was her word for the brothers when they were
together. Children. If they wanted individual attention, they
called each of them 'big brother' and 'little brother'.
"...yeah sure, let's talk," said One. "...what are you up to?
...really?"
"Well, today, I am up to names. My name is Toriel. You may call
me that when you want me, or when you're talking about me. Can
you say 'Toriel'?"[3]
"Toriel!" Two grinned. This being was a Toriel.
"Very good," Toriel cheered. "Little Brother? Can you say
'Toriel'?"
Nothing bad had happened to them for three days, so of course
One wanted to see what happened when he was bad. "...no.
...don't wanna."
"That is quite all right. It is far too early for you to trust
me. But I have been thinking of proper names for the two of
you." The Other had papers in their robe. With letters on them.
"These are the fonts you speak in. Papyrus, and Comic Sans."
It was as if the Other... the Toriel... had done _magic_. "I can
read that," Two blurted. "I can _read_ that! It says 'Papyrus'!
I can read it and it says 'Papyrus'! And the other one says
'Comic Sans'! I can tell! I can really tell!" He hopped up and
down for the sheer joy of being able to read[4]. "I'm not stupid
any more, brother! I can _READ_!"
"...knew you had it in you, bro."
"Would you like to keep it as a name, Big Brother?" asked
Toriel. "Would you like to be named 'Papyrus'?"
He looked over to his brother, who was suspicious. All it took
was a tiny shake of One's head.
Two deflated. Showed Toriel his plate. "This is my designation.
We call each other One and Two when we are not Brother."
(WDG-1S)
This wasn't the first time that something he said had made him
feel bad. Just watching all the happy bleed out of Two was
enough to make a flat, greasy feeling happen somewhere near his
ribs. He didn't like making Two feel bad, but it was better than
anything He could do.
But He wasn't around to hurt them any more.
One watched Toriel, almost ready to try another attack, for all
he knew that it would do little. If she showed the slightest
hint of anger...
"As you wish," was all they said. "How about you, Little
Brother?" They held up the paper that said 'Comic Sans'. "You
are so unhappy all the time, we cannot exactly call you 'comic'.
Even as a skeleton, you need to be more humerus... hahaha."
"...heh," he echoed. Okay. That was a little funny. He was
starting to like this Toriel in spite of himself.
"So," the enormous being folded the paper between the 'Comic'
and the 'Sans', leaving the second half visible. "What do you
think?"
He showed them his handplate. Not as an offered arm, but as the
back of a raised fist. "This is my designation. We call each
other One and Two when we are not Brother."
They looked a little sad, and said, "As you wish." They took a
breath. "I have a few books in these fonts. How would the two of
you like to read with me? We can each read a page."
Two felt like testing them, too. "May I have a hug?"
"Of course. I am available for hugs at any time."
One watched in barely muted horror as his brother almost got
lost within Toriel's arms.
(Toriel)
Well. The tall brother was the most open of the two of them. A
minor miracle, considering where they spent the beginning of
their lives. After story time and some lessons on pronouns (she
was going to get them to call her 'she' or 'her' if it killed
her!), she let them help her cook dinner. A simple stew tonight.
Nothing that would upset the tastes of a child.
She showed the taller brother how to be careful with knives and
peelers while the smaller one of the two hung back. He always
had his back to the wall. She would never win him over by
grabbing or forcing him to do things. Therefore, she offered him
choices.
And always for activities where he could not hurt himself.
"Would you like to strip the herbs, or stir the dumpling mix?"
"Would you like to break up the breadcrumbs, or roll the
dumplings?"
He wrote what he thought were bad words in the scattered flour.
And threw small objects at her. He was testing his limits. She
remembered when Chara... when Chara... A moment of melancholy
washed over her. The final straw was a raw egg. Toriel stopped
what she was doing and turned on the smaller skeleton.
"Oh my, that egg was going to be your brother's breakfast,
tomorrow. I am afraid that was naughty, my child."
"...ain't yer chile," he mumbled. "...so whatchu gon' do?"
"What am I going to do? I am going to finish making dinner.
_You_ are going to sit in the corner and think about nicer
things to do than throwing about other people's food."
"...make me."
She hated to do it, but he had to know where the line was. She
scooped him up and placed him gently on a cushion, facing into a
corner. "Now you stay there and think of a nicer way to get what
you want. You may come to the table when dinner is ready."
And she cleaned the egg off herself and went back to making
dinner.
"...i wanna know what th' rules are... wh't happens t' me or m'
brothur when either of us breaks 'em... w's gon' make ya hurt
us?" He was clinging to the doorframe as if afraid to set foot
in the kitchen. "When d' the 'speriments start again?"
"O, my child..." she breathed. Toriel dropped to her knees.
Offered her open arms. "There are no more experiments. There is
no more hurting. I only wish to give you and your brother the
best home. The best education. I feel that you deserve it. And I
promise you that I will not harm you or your brother."
"Whassa promise?" said the taller one.
"O my goodness..."
The questions had begun.
====8<====
[3] Of course she's coming over all Mr Rogers at this point.
Their diction leaves something to be desired and One mumbles all
the time. She only has suspicions about how smart they are.
[4] Because dyslexic Papyrus gives me life. He even wrote notes
in Papyrus, in-game. Papyrus and Comic Sans are both fonts that
dyslexics can read with less difficulty.[insert The More You
Know GIF]
#Post#: 116--------------------------------------------------
Re: Handplates to Freedom
By: InterNutter Date: July 30, 2016, 8:37 pm
---------------------------------------------------------
MOR!
====8<====
Abduction Day 4
(WDG-1S)
"Breakfast is ready. Come sit at the table."
One knew that she was going to show her true colours, today.
Today, Two was going to bear the brunt of One's actions. He
clung tighter to his brother's hand on the walk down the hallway
to the dining table. Somehow, it was longer, this morning.
But it was the same pretty place. Even he had to admit that it
was pretty. Everything was... nice. The fire in the hearth
warmed without being dangerous. He could put his whole self in
and not be burned. Or... that was the theory. He would wait
another day to test it. Today, he was testing Her, to see if she
was anything like Him after all.
Three places. The blue placemat held a plate already full of
bacon, beans, and fried tomatoes. That was his. Two's placemat
was orange, and had exactly the same thing. Her mat was pink,
and held the same food. Each of the brothers had a large glass
of milk. Good for strong bones.
Toriel was not in the dining room. She was bustling about in the
kitchen. One looked to his brother. He didn't know what was
happening either.
She came out of the kitchen with three plates balanced on her
arm. "And a special treat... a soft-boiled egg with toast
sticks."
The little plate she added to One's placemat had buttered,
toasted bread cut into long, thin strips. And an egg sitting and
steaming in a cup. "One for you. And one for me." the same kind
of little plate. The same kind of bread. And the same cup with
her own steaming egg. "And one for... oh dear."
Two's plate had the bread. And the cup. But that cup was
glaringly empty of egg.
"That is not right. You will miss out, Big Brother. That is
_not_ right..."
One glared at his egg. Trying to calculate how he could cut it
in half for his brother.
Toriel plucked her full egg cup off her plate and swapped it for
Two's. "There. Now no brother will go hungry."
_What?_
One watched her as she sat, seemingly without a concern. Watched
her place the empty egg cup beside her toast sticks. And then
commenced her breakfast as if nothing at all was wrong.
(WDG-2P)
Two looked to his brother. One was looking at him. Both were
trying to urge each other, with their minds, to say or do
something.
_You talk to her. No *you* talk to her. I'm not going to do it,
you do it._ And so on.
"It is not poison," said Toriel. "You may eat."
_No, YOU say something._
"If you doubt, you may swap your plate with mine. Any time you
wish."
Two finally broke. "Won't _you_ go hungry, Miss Toriel Ma'am."
"...you're supposed t' pick one..." muttered One, under his
breath.
"It is only one egg. And you brothers both need to eat more than
I do. And since it's a treat, I thought you deserved it more."
Everything smelled so nice. It was all nice. Everything was
nice. Even she was nice. "...why?" he said.
"You have been through a lot and I think you deserve a treat."
One picked up the egg in his cup. Got up and carried it over to
Toriel's setting and swapped it for the empty one. "...i don't."
he said, and he sat back down. "...i was mean to you... you
didn't deserve it." He took a deep breath and said something he
never thought he'd say to someone in charge ever again.
"..i'msorry."
"Thank you," said Toriel. "Let us be sure that it never happens
again."
(Toriel)
After they got dressed, she took them for a walk. They needed to
see that some things in the ruins were harmless. Starting with
the tree in her courtyard. Of course she packed a basket of
snacks and drinks. These were hungry little skeletons, after
all. And many of the things available in the ruins were...
unpalatable.
And on the trip, her desire to be a teacher came to the fore.
She had all sorts of guidance about them.
"That is a migosp. They much prefer to be left alone." Or,
"There is Wimsun. They are afraid of everything." Or, "That is a
vegetoid. They might feed you if you are hungry, but you must be
able to dodge their attacks. Look for the green ones. They will
restore you."
All the way to the golden flowers. She did not talk to them,
this time. She did not tell the little skeletons that there was
a child's body under that trove. But she did encourage them to
sit and enjoy the sunshine that filtered down. Skeletons needed
sunshine, after all.
Little Brother fell asleep in a sunbeam, and Big Brother asked
her questions about the flowers. The smaller brother woke up for
food, of course. And he made himself stay awake for the walk
back, though he leaned on his brother more often on the way back
to her home.
"I could carry you, if you like," offered Toriel. "I do not
mind."
"...ic'n... (huff)... stillwalk..."
He was lying. She could tell. He would fall asleep during story
time and remain asleep until dinner. She slowed down for him
and, since she could not say 'I love you', she said, "As you
wish."
====8<====
Moar whenever.
#Post#: 118--------------------------------------------------
Re: Handplates to Freedom
By: InterNutter Date: July 31, 2016, 9:35 pm
---------------------------------------------------------
MOAR!
====8<====
Abduction Day 5
(technically)
(WDG-1S)
Nightmares plagued him. Every time he closed his eyes, He was
there. Either in the cell, in the experimental arenas, or, most
worryingly, in places almost like Toriel's house. Only...
nightmarishly twisted into hybrids of the house and the lab.
Two was out of it. Sleeping the sleep of the innocent by his
side. He did not respond to One's clinging grip by squeezing in
return. He didn't even wake when One slid from his arms
altogether. One sidled away from his brother and surveyed the
room they shared from the vantage of the bed they shared.
Toriel had placed both beds together, and rearranged the room
around that.
One had no fears of monsters under the bed. He had had plenty of
just one monster, coming for them whenever He liked. The dark
shadows under the bed held nothing more threatening than dust
bunnies and the occasional forgotten toy or misplaced slipper.
What he feared was real. And it could be happening any time. One
ran his phalanges over the plate on his right hand. Feeling the
letters in the dark.
_Running for somewhere to hide. Desperate to find a place where
He wouldn't find them. Suspecting, and then knowing, that it was
the hand plates that allowed Him to find them._
Marked as a thing. Property. Experimental creations, with no
more rights than lab mice. And tagged with tracking devices.
_I will always find you, no matter how far you run, and no
matter where you hide._
One popped his right hand off, just to watch it fall limp. And
popped it back on. He knew that wouldn't work.
_Watching in utter helplessness as He snapped Two's arm for no
good reason. Hearing his brother scream the instant that the
bone cracked. Knowing in an instant that He could do that to any
limb He found._
And he'd been having nightmares about watching Two's face as One
turned to dust.
There was nothing for it. He had to tell Miss Toriel.
One slid out of bed, shuffling into soft, plush slippers that
had ridiculous googly eyes on them. He liked them because they
made Two laugh. Pulled on a soft, oversized coat that Miss
Toriel said were only for bedtimes and for when he wasn't
feeling well. Well, he certainly wasn't feeling that great right
now. One shuffled out of the bedroom and went looking for her.
She wasn't in her room. She wasn't in the hall. She wasn't in
the room with the stairs that lead down into the cellar. She was
in the dining room. Sitting at the table with a book weighed
open and paper sheets under her immense hands. Her eyes were
closed and she was sitting up, and there was a pen in one of her
hands.
One climbed a chair to look. Miss Toriel had been copying from
one of her books. Copying common script into the Papyrus font.
So Two could read the books.
He gently slid the pen out of her fuzzy fingers...
And nearly died of fright when she snorted awake.
"Oh my goodness. Little Brother. Are you unwell?"
"...nightmares," he said, trying to imitate her precise way of
speaking. He didn't much care how well either brother spoke.
Just so long as He could understand them. Miss Toriel cared
about everything they did or didn't do. So this time, he offered
her his hand plate as if he were going to pet her lovely white
fur. "...these... let _him_ track us... been scared he's gonna
find us."
The rest, he left unsaid. He was pretty sure Miss Toriel knew
most of what had happened down there. And if she didn't... she
had some pretty good guesses.
Miss Toriel yawned. "My apologies, Little Brother. May I show
you something? You may hold my hand if you wish."
He clung to it as if it were his last chance. As if it were
Two's last chance. As if she could protect them both from Him
and all His experiments.
Clinging tightly to her, One let Miss Toriel take him to the
forbidden cellar, and down the long hall to... a purple door?
"This is the only door to the rest of the Underground. I have
sealed it and warded it such that it will not open unless I will
it to. Your tormenter may know that you are beyond this door,
but he will not be able to move past it."
"...idunno... he's got some pretty big equipment... what if--?"
he couldn't speak beyond those words. His head filled with
pictures. And all of them with Him as the central player.
"Well, to be safe, I suppose we must have a closer look at those
things. May I?"
He was eager to nod. So worn out from worry that he let her
carry him back upstairs. She was kind and did not know how
horrible He was. He shivered in Miss Toriel's arms, dreading the
thought of her in His custody.
(Toriel)
She didn't want to tell Little Brother that she was only up
because of similar nightmares. That scientist may have had good
reason for doing what he did, but torturing children was not
justifyable, no matter his imagined ends. Not even with the
greater good argument. Yes, thousands of skeletons had perished
when that child had come through, guns blazing... But that did
not mean he had good reason for torturing innocent monsters.
And he would never be torturing these innocents if _she_ had any
say in things.
Once upstairs, she had to find a magnifying glass and the right
kind of lamp single-handedly. Abandoning Little Brother to a
cushion or a soft chair would not help his terrors to ebb at
all. So she held him against her hip as if he were any other
scared child who needed comfort. Only once all her equipment was
together did she sit him at the table so she could peer at the
fixtures on his hand.
Rivets. He had used rivets to fasten the plates onto these
children. "In order to remove these, I would have to drill--"
she covered her mouth and shook her head. Hot tears filled her
eyes. She'd have to hurt them in order to free them.
"...it's okay," said Little Brother. "...the drilling part don't
hurt nearly as much as hot rivets."
(WDG-2P)
It was a very strange morning. Firstly, his brother was awake
before him. Secondly, Miss Toriel Ma'am was tired and worried.
And she had put on an extravaganza of a feast. There was barely
room for the placemats, there was so much food.
"...it's bad news, bro," said One.
Miss Toriel Ma'am sat on the floor, and her face looked like it
was only taking a brief break between cries. "I have looked at
your brother's hand plate," she said. "The bad man fixed them on
the both of you with riv--*" her voice cracked and stopped. A
few tears leaked down her fur. "In order to remove them, I would
have to dri--*" she broke down into sobs.
Two tried petting her shoulder. He didn't know if he was allowed
to hug her when she wasn't hugging him. "It will be all right,
Miss Toriel Ma'am. I know you won't be _trying_ to hurt us."
That made it worse. Oh no. He'd broken her. And she was so kind
and gentle and everything. And He would be coming and--
Two didn't remember going to the corner, but One was there with
him and holding him and repeating, "...it's okay, it's okay...
she's been like that all morning, it ain't your fault, it's
okay..." over and over again.
It was a very bad morning. But not nearly so bad as the rest of
the day.
====8<====
More later :) Toodles!
#Post#: 120--------------------------------------------------
Re: Handplates to Freedom
By: InterNutter Date: August 3, 2016, 2:00 am
---------------------------------------------------------
I can finally write some more! [NB for last post, this forum
does not like the word c-r-a-c-k. Go figure]
====8<====
(WDG-1S)
The crying was done with, and he'd eaten slightly more than his
fill. It was hard to remember that Toriel was not Him, and would
not withhold food to see what happened next. With her around,
there had never been a moment of hunger. And now, with a
slightly unpleasant feeling just under his ribs, One would have
much rather cuddled up in the pillow pile and slept it off.
No such luck. She insisted on going for another walk into the
chamber of flowers.
Walking so far exhausted him. What he wouldn't give for a short
cut. An easier way to get around.
Toriel stopped for rests, often. Let him get his breath back
before they journeyed onwards. And maybe that was why...
He wanted to blame himself. Everything bad that had happened
with Him seemed to happen because of something One had done.
Blaming himself came as a reflex. If he hadn't made Toriel cry.
If he had just tried to go back to sleep. If he had woken Two
and let him help. If he had kept the function of the handplate
to himself...
Then maybe...
(Toriel)
They met the human in the room with the long hallway and the
single column. She was already dusty from murders. She wore some
kind of fancy skirt that stuck out sideways and carried... a
pair of shoes? She used them as a weapon. Swung them around.
"Fear not, my child," she began, but got no further. This child
wanted to fight. And they were aiming at Little Brother. _NO!_
It barely took a thought. She dived between the human and the
smaller skeleton. Shielding him from harm with her own body.
"Run! Run and hide!" she urged. The skeletons fled.
Toriel blocked the human's way. All she had to do was stay in
her way long enough and then flee. With luck, this child might
not find her again. And Toriel had pockets loaded with treats.
She could heal herself if necessary. But if this little girl
found Little Brother again...
She used her showiest attacks, intending to frighten rather than
harm. And it worked. After a long and arduous battle, the child
fled. Toriel let her go, gave herself just long enough to
recover her breath and then... went searching for the skeleton
brothers. She dared not call out, very loud. Not at first. More
time was needed to give the murderous child space.
She found their arms in a nook behind the column. Their right
forearms. A misdirection that might have worked on their former
tormentor. Toriel channeled her healing energy into the arms,
knowing they would feel it. _ I am alive, dear ones. Have
courage._ They could not hear her thoughts, but they would know
she was still able to help them. She held their arms close to
her heart and willed all of her protective magic at them.
And then she searched. Every room. The candy room. Wept at the
rooms drifting with dust. Searched down every hole, in every
linking corridor between hidden places.
She could feel the murderous child hammering at the door between
the ruins and the rest of the underground. Toriel debated
whether to let her through.
If the human child went on, she would kill more monsters. And
Asgore would surely end her if nobody else did. If she
remained... she would backtrack. Hunt down any living monster
that had managed to avoid her. Two lives that were so very
precious to her versus the whole of the underground. The life of
a human child... who may not know any better.
Toriel increased her pace, not knowing what to do. Her
imagination was quick to supply horrors. Both arms in her grasp,
crumbling and turning into dust. One arm at a time doing the
same. And worst of all, only one arm crumbling in her hands. And
her, helpless to stop it.
She let the first door open. Felt the child slip through. Closed
it again. Now the little murderess was trapped between two
doors. Everyone was, however temporarily, safe.
But she could not find the brothers. She knew they were alive,
yes, but she could not find them. They could be trapped. If they
were hurt, they would not be hurt for long. What if they were
allergic to something? Would healing magic work against
allergies? What if they'd caught a sickness? What if some other
creature of the underground was menacing them? What if they'd
become lost?
Now her imagination pictured them somewhere dark and cold, lost
and alone, separated in their flight. And each of them falling
ill.
It was no surprise that she was nearly in a blind panic by the
time she reached her little home. The fire had gone out. Half
the food was missing. The cushion nest that Little Brother
preferred to lounge in was knocked askew. She knew the murdering
child could not reach them, at least. Only now did she dare call
for them. "Little Brother! Big Brother! Where are you?"
"Miss Toriel Ma'am," came a distant voice. Big Brother! "Is it
safe?"
"Keep calling," shouted Toriel. "I am coming for you. Is Little
Brother with you?"
"Yes, Miss Toriel Ma'am. We hid good! And we stayed hid no
matter what that creature did. What was that creature, Miss
Toriel Ma'am?"
They were in her bedroom! Of all the sights that made her soul
feel its best, it was the sight of four little glowing eyes
staring up at her from under that bed. "It is safe, my children.
It is safe..." She all but fell to the floor, arms open wide and
hands offering the brothers their arms back. "The bad one is...
contained... for now."
They emerged at last. Big Brother went straight for a hug, and
Little Brother hung back as he reattached his arm. "...uh...
why's there red comin' outta you?"
She hadn't even realised she'd been injured. "Oh dear. That
child must have hurt me..."
Big Brother lit up like a city, healing magic flooding his body
so hard that it flared out of him like a bonfire. The sheer
power of it made Toriel gasp. He healed her in less than a
minute and would not relax his power until she said, "Enough.
Enough. I am well. All is well. We are all fine, are we not?"
She felt her grip on the Greater Underground door slip, just for
a moment, and the human child slid through.
_I am sorry. I am so, so sorry..._
(WDG-2P)
Two let himself relax against Miss Toriel Ma'am. Safe. Well.
They were good words. Warm words. Happy words. Healing made him
feel sleepy and weak. And out of breath. "We are," he panted.
"Thank you, Miss Toriel Ma'am."
And then, a small miracle. One slunk into her lap (another warm
and happy word) and murmured, "...i don't mind bein' called sans
no more." He must have caught Two's expression because he added,
"...yeah, bro... you can be papyrus if you like, too."
Papyrus had been waiting for a chance to say it. "My brother,
Sans," he cheered. "You are amazing!"
He laughed. "...maybe... i'm kind'a glad all that healing
stopped, though... your magic gets toasty after a while,
Toriel."
She squeezed them against her and laid her lips against each of
their skulls with a little squeaky noise. "I am so glad that you
are well. I am so glad that you are safe."
He had so many questions that they couldn't come out. Papyrus
didn't know which one to ask first. Why couldn't she heal
herself? What was that bad creature? Where did all the dust come
from? Why had the bad creature made red come out of Miss Toriel
Ma'am? Why was it called a child? And what did Miss Toriel mean
by 'contained for now'?
Questions for another day. Hugs and healing were too important.
====8<====
More whenever I can.
#Post#: 122--------------------------------------------------
Re: Handplates to Freedom
By: InterNutter Date: August 4, 2016, 1:22 am
---------------------------------------------------------
====8<====
[s]Abduction Day 6[/s]Adoption Day 1
Papyrus could feel the tension in the air. All those un-asked
questions filled him up with an unpleasant tickly sensation. And
Miss Toriel Ma'am was upset. He could see it. All her smiles had
gone away and there was a slump to her shoulders. And she moved
slowly. Like his brother did when... when He had hurt them.
Papyrus knew from rough experience that not all hurts went away
with healing.
But those prickly, tickly questions kept bothering him.
Sans was being a lot nicer to Miss Toriel Ma'am. Helping out,
where she let him, or trying a few weak jokes. None of his
usual... anger... was coming out. And it was good to see him
being like that for someone, but...
One of the questions escaped. "What _was_ that thing?"
"...half-past breakfast," murmured Sans. "...didn't think you'd
last this long."
"Brother," Papyrus chided. "This is important. I can feel it."
Miss Toriel Ma'am put her fork down. She'd only been poking her
food around, anyway. "That... creature... was a human. They...
They are the species that put monsters like us underground. They
are the species that put up the barrier. And the barrier keeps
us down here."
"...so we'd all be better off if humans didn't exist, right?"
said Sans.
Miss Toriel Ma'am shut her eyes and got very, very still. He
could almost see a halo of sadness around her. "I loved a human
child as if they were my own, once."
"...aaah," Sans growled to himself. "...failure... stupid..."
"They were not a child of my body and soul, but a child of my
heart," said Miss Toriel Ma'am. She hadn't heard Sans. "My
husband and I... loved them. Just as we loved the child who did
come from our souls[5]. They grew together as siblings. And for
a little time, everything seemed... better."
It was not a happy story. Stories about happenings in the
Underground never seemed to end happily. The human fell sick.
Dangerously sick. No magic could help them. No amount of
medicines or spells or potions worked. The human was fading
away, and they only had one request. To see the flowers from
their village one final time.
Miss Toriel Ma'am's monster-child took the human's soul. And
then the humans body. Together, they crossed the barrier and
Miss Toriel Ma'am's son tried to fulfil their sibling's last
wish. It didn't end well. The monster child had just enough time
to tell their story before they fell down and turned into dust.
"...sorry," said Sans. "...didn't know."
"Humans have choices," said Miss Toriel Ma'am. "The one that you
saw chose to be a murderer. And I... I chose to contain them
behind the door in the cellar. Unfortunately... when you healed
me, Papyrus, I... I accidentally let them go on to the greater
Underground." She hurried to soothe him. "It was not your fault,
my child. It was mine. I should have... I should have..."
"...hey, it's okay," said Sans, reaching out to comfort her.
"...maybe that thing an' _him_ will get together... they deserve
each other, don'cha think?"
*
Welp. That went over like... something designed to sink. He
dropped the subject and let Papyrus ask all the questions and
say all the things.
"Why was that one so mean?"
"How did they make the barrier?"
"Why did they make the barrier?"
"How can we be ready?"
Sans surfaced from his self-blame for that one. Already, Paps
was thinking ahead for the next time. Paps was real clever about
that sort of thing and He never figured it out. Paps planned. He
didn't always plan all the way, because some things just didn't
work out all the way. But he always had some really good ideas.
Lots of them very nearly worked.
"I can... teach some methods," Toriel allowed. "And I have some
books. It has become clear that you will need to defend
yourselves. It is usually a long time between the days when
children fall. We will have time."
*
(Excerpts from Toriel's journal)
It is regrettable, but I must teach these children how to fight.
The smaller of the two, Sans, will not benefit from traditional
armour, so I have taken the liberty of adding speed spells to
his clothing. He will have to dodge, and dodge quickly, if he
has any hope for survival.
Papyrus is far more able to withstand hurt, but I will do what I
can for him to allow his clothing to protect him from harm.
Their first lesson is how to use their magic to deflect an
attack from another. The hallway of my cellar seems to be the
best place to practice. Not even ghosts come there. But I cannot
help but feel a terrible foreboding. Am I training more
innocents to die? Am I training more murderers?
I know not which action is for the best. I can only protect what
lives I can.
[5] Ask me about my whack theories on Monster reproduction!
====8<====
I figure in this timeline, Gaster becomes a boss monster who's
out to capture Pap and Sans before anyone in authority finds
out. Pacifist runs convince both him and Alphys to come clean
about their abominations of science.
#Post#: 124--------------------------------------------------
Re: Handplates to Freedom
By: InterNutter Date: August 7, 2016, 4:59 am
---------------------------------------------------------
More at last!
====8<====
Adoption Day 7
Sans had got used to Toriel carrying him back to their cosy
little home. Training was tiring for him, and whether they
trained in the long hall with the column or the long hall that
was their cellar, he finished every day absolutely exhausted.
It didn't matter if he got hit. Tori threw healing magic for
them to train with. He learned to block and dodge really
quickly. And it was a good thing that most battles didn't last
for very long before a monster didn't want to fight. Showing
mercy was important. Tremendously important.
And after they got to know everyone in the ruins, it wasn't as
if they got into many fights.
He relaxed in her arms. Carried around like a baby. Like he had
never been carried.
_Dim memories from the edge of consciousness. A lot of pain. A
green light, and Him swearing and yelling the word 'no' over and
over again. Feeling his body being hoisted up into a grip very
similar to the one Tori was using now..._
Sans didn't want to run away. For a start, he was way too tired.
But he would have given anything to be in his bed and hiding
under the covers from that memory.
{POP}
He dropped about an inch onto the surface of the big bed he
shared with Paps. So worn out that he was getting tunnel vision.
He could hear Tori and Paps screaming. And he could barely keep
his eyes open.
_I'm okay. I'm sorry. I'm okay. Just... come... find..._ and
sleep swallowed him whole.
*
Two of the scariest things had happened. First and foremost was
that Sans vanished from her arms. Not a trace. Not a shower of
ash (that nightmare still woke her up in the wee small hours).
Not a wisp of smoke. Nothing but a brief 'pop' like a balloon
meeting something sharp.
Of course she screamed. Which made Papyrus scream. She ran back
to the cellar hall where they had started. She tried to hear him
through the door.
And then Papyrus announced. "We'll find him in our room."
The eeriest thing was how he said it with complete calm. He had
one eye closed and the other was... squinting. Toriel got the
feeling that he wasn't looking into the here and now.
She scooped him up and ran all the way to their room and,
indeed, he was right there on top of the quilt. And out cold.
Toriel didn't put Papyrus down. There was plenty of room for
them both in her arms.
*
Sans was okay. Sans was fine. He'd just found a brand new
ability and it had knocked him sideways.
Papyrus held his brother until he, too, fell asleep.
And woke up sometime in the early morning. Facing Sans, who was
also awake. Miss Toriel Ma'am had not let either of them go.
"...she copies the books into your font so you can read them,"
said Sans. "...don't think she sleeps much."
"Sometimes I wake in the night," said Papyrus, trying to
whisper. "And she's feeding you healing magic. I know she
doesn't sleep much."
That seemed to decide it. "...we gotta do something nice for
her."
But what?
====8<====
more when inspiration strikes.
#Post#: 125--------------------------------------------------
Re: Handplates to Freedom
By: InterNutter Date: August 8, 2016, 11:03 pm
---------------------------------------------------------
Let's see what I can do
====8<====
Toriel had always been worried for the skeleton brothers, but
their behaviour was getting a little strange. Well, strange even
for them. Their tormenter had no interest in teaching them how
to be children, so they never really learned. They had had a
tendency to stop and look to her whenever they felt they were
enjoying themselves for too long. And they flinched whenever she
made to caress their heads.
But now...
Ever since Sans had teleported for the first time, and she had
fallen asleep cuddling them, they had become even stranger. They
were secretive to begin with, but now they were purposely trying
to hide something from her. Books came and went from her
shelves. She could sometimes hear Sans reading in the night, but
not hear _what_ he was reading.
And whenever she announced she was going out, one or the other
would announce that they would both be fine at home for the
_exact_ time that she would be gone. And when she came back, one
or the other would be cleaning.
They were certainly a lot more affectionate. If there was an
hour at home where she did not have one or more brother
embracing her, then she couldn't remember any more. Reading time
moved onto her comfy chair, with both brothers snuggled into her
lap and making attempts at reading. Papyrus had to use a ruler,
sometimes, to 'make the letters behave'. A method he or the both
of them had invented, they said, to help her sleep.
They knew she was staying up in the nights to make things for
their benefit.
And as their covert behaviour progressed... they started talking
in hands. She could no longer deny that they were the creations
and victims of Doctor Gaster. He was the only skeleton she knew
who spoke in symbols. Though neither of the brothers knew how
to, or bothered with, manifesting magical hands that spoke in
sign language. Toriel could tell they knew she didn't understand
when they did it. It was always when she came to check on them,
and one of them was always squinting. She would catch a word,
maybe two, in Common, and then the one who was talking would
seamlessly switch to the symbol font of Gaster's.
Sometimes, they would emerge from under their beds and smile in
a guilty way.
And even more worrying, two days after she started crying to
herself, Papyrus and Sans came to confess.
"We never wanted you to feel bad, Miss Toriel Ma'am," said
Papyrus. He was holding Sans' hand very tightly. Possibly for
courage. "We just... um..."
"...wanted to surprise you," murmured Sans. "...we're sorry."
"Can we show you?"
They had gifts under their beds. Things they had made. Things
they were still making. Things they had yet to make.
Papyrus proudly showed a 'reading lens' he had made out of bits
of wire and yellow cellophane. It helped him focus on the
letters a great deal better than the ruler. He'd been using it
at night to help with their research.
Sans showed how he and his brother had been working on making
her a feast. So far, they had figured out spaghetti, hot dogs,
and something that could charitably be called a quiche.
"...we're still working on pie," Sans confessed. "...wanted t'
make a day when we did everything for you... f'r a change."
Toriel couldn't stand it any longer. She scooped them up in her
arms and wept into their shoulders.
"Brother! It didn't work. She's still crying."
"...just wait."
"Oh, I am so relieved," she sighed. "I had thought you were
becoming hostile. I had worried that you did not trust me..."
"You... can't See the pictures?" said Papyrus.
A long question and answer session followed, with all of them
huddled into a sheet fort made out of the table, and picnicking
on the brothers' cooking efforts. Gaster had done hideous things
to them, that was true. He had also given them peculiar gifts.
Both brothers could see into the timelines. They could change
the way things went by what they said or what they did. Or
didn't do.
"There's a time coming where everything is muddled up," said
Papyrus. "It's a long way from now and... we can't sort it out."
"...'s like looking into mud," said Sans. "...but we know it's
after the seventh kid falls."
That was like a shot to her heart. Was Asgore going to go
through with his awful plan? Was he doing it even now?
"We can't See what we aren't there for," said Papyrus, answering
a question she hadn't framed into words. "Sorry, Miss Toriel
Ma'am."
She sighed. "I still worry about that little girl. She was so
scared. I wish I could have saved her. I wish we could have
calmed her."
Sans was squinting. "...sorry, Tori... i see a weird jar... and
a human soul inside it... and it's next to a big man who looks a
lot like you."
*
Starving. Out of breath. Wishing she could go home. Lost.
Lonely. And scared out of her wits. She had thought that the
cave under the waterfall was a great place to hide. They had
said that going through water threw off dogs.
They were wrong.
She woke to see four dogs holding her arms and legs down. A
fifth had her shoes!
"Take it off her," said one. "Leave it here."
"Murderer," said another.
"You're going straight to the king," said a third.
"Er," said the one with her shoes. It was holding them as if
they were a dead rat. "What do I do with this?"
"Take it into the marshes. Hide it where it won't hurt anyone
else."
No. This was wrong. The flower had promised... it had promised
she would go home... She started to cry. Too late. Far, far too
late.
====8<====
more when inspiration strikes.
#Post#: 126--------------------------------------------------
Re: Handplates to Freedom
By: InterNutter Date: August 11, 2016, 2:38 am
---------------------------------------------------------
Adoption Day 10
Sans couldn't remember the last time he actually slept. Not the
cat-napping he usually did when weariness caught up with him and
bludgeoned watchful wariness with a sneak attack. Not the kind
of sleep he got back in the bad place, where he fell unconscious
from pain, or when he had his senses open for any sign of His
approach. But this time... right after Toriel tucked them both
in to their shared bed, he fell deep down into sleep so pure
that he actually felt... rested.
Something had unlocked. Not anywhere physical, just... within
himself.
Sans opened his eyes. Same friendly ceiling. Same soft bed. Same
collection of toys and... same best brother ever, waiting for
him and practicing his blue magic on a particularly light teddy
bear.
"Finally," said Papyrus. "I thought you would be napping
forever, brother. Miss Toriel Ma'am has been keeping breakfast
warm for hours."
Sans dragged himself out of bed. He felt a lot better than he
had since... since he couldn't remember. How was it that getting
a full night's sleep was exhausting? He shuffled into the
googly-eye slippers and made his way to the dining room.
"...thanks for waiting for me," he mumbled. "...dunno why i'm so
tired, i actually got to sleep."
Toriel was impressed by something. Scooped him up in a hug and
danced with him. Laughing all the time and congratulating him.
It took four tries at understanding her before she spelled it
out:
A good sleep can raise someone's HP above their usual limits.
And now all he wanted to do was sleep. That, and eat. He was
starving.
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