Chapter Text
New Log:
I think we might be doomed.
Antre’s taken over most of Hotland by now and everyone wants me to do something about it, but what am I supposed to do? Based on our stats alone the chances of me winning in a battle are slim at best. I’ve been asking Asgore for help, he’d surely be able to subdue Antre, but, for some reason, the Kings been reluctant to respond on the matter… and Antre’s just been taking advantage! Bragging, egging, calling himself the “Lord of Screens”. It's like he wants the whole of the Underground to turn on him. He can’t just declare himself an overlord… can he?
My next best option is to deploy Mettaton. His body isn’t fully ready yet, far from it, but I could cut the theatrics short and fast track it. My client's going to hate it, I just know it, but hopefully he’ll be willing to help us out, even if it is a pretty Hotland exclusive situation, and even if it was meant to fight humans instead. I’ll tell him that I won’t finish the body unless he helps us! Hopefully he isn't too mad about that.
Speaking of things on my plate. I’ve accidentally created life. Well, not exactly. The living slosh being stored in the fridge is showing spikes in activity after nearly two decades as a dormant puddle. It’s been in there longer than I’ve even been the Royal Scientist. Occasionally it moved around and somehow shattered its own containment. After cleaning up the mess I noticed it was responsive to stimuli, and after it broke containment a third time, I started to monitor and perform minor, unobtrusive tests. I’ve also been finding signs of tampering with the lab equipment, and suspect the blob may be the culprit, but it’s been something like a pet to me these past few weeks; I even fed it kibble and read manga to it before bed (I think it sleeps?). Just the sweetest little thing, you know?
So, when it started growing limbs and teeth and told me it was “The WEB’s #1 Bestselling Author!” through magazine and manual clippings, I just about lost my marbles. We had some pretty big journalists back in the day. One in particular was especially nosey– in more ways than one. He went missing around the same time logged for the blob’s acquisition, so that tracks, but it still left the what, how and why of his whole fridge thing. The icing on the cake? He doesn’t actually remember. Yup. Turns out his name is just about the only thing he remembers, or at least can declare. Obviously the patient still retains habituals like how to read and avoid danger, but that was about it. Every time he tried to speak, incomprehensible garbling came out; anytime he tried to write, he’d resign to filling the page– literally filling the page with equally incomprehensible scribbles. I was starting to think nothing was left behind those eyes when he somehow bypassed the Lab entrance’s safety measures and woke me mid-nap with a mortified scream. It took me nearly an hour to convince the poor guy that he wasn’t on fire, that nothing was on fire, that he was safe and not dying. I had to turn down the lights after that to calm things down.
We found a way to communicate eventually. Charades was a universal sport afterall! I continued to monitor their vitals and stats for the next few days. I even tried to fit some clothes on him, but the corporeal goo just kept oozing out of them– much to his own dismay– so for now we’ve just fashioned a weighted blanket into a cloak of sorts.
Taking care of my unexpected patient was probably one of my better burdens, but I couldn’t keep him in the lab, and neither Hotland nor the state of it was safe for a monster so vulnerable and clueless. I found a family contact from a Missing Monsters catalog. It’s rare for new entries to be added, especially when a human is in the underground, but no one ever found this monster’s dust, and now we sort-of know why… at least someone was crossing their fingers for a few months before he was presumed dead by human hands. There had only been one contact for next of kin, a Wood Land salesperson named Roozh. I couldn’t recall that the esteemed journalist even had family, but we weren’t exactly close before, just acquaintances who occasionally bumped into each other on the way to meet W.D. Gaster– me for training and work, him for interviews and press statements. Those aforementioned bumps weren’t without some turbulence either, as he insisted his time was more important than mine; now, he's kinda sweet? Hard to think a guy like him could ever be sweet. Maybe it was the effect of the amnesia, or maybe the 15 year nap inside a fridge. Plenty of time to cool off, haha… I could only hope whoever this Roozh was took good care of him and could help him recover. At the very least, it gave me more time to get Mettaton’s body combat ready.
He said he’d send me letters, I look forward to reading them! :D
End Log.
To Whomever It May Concern,
I don’t like this plan at all. Roozh, rich pink and composed of flattened, swooping teardrops, was allegedly my guardian once upon a time, according to the files. Though they didn’t look much older than I felt and didn’t exactly emit a loving aura. No, they looked like they could blow away with the slightest gust if there ever was one, but was still ready and willing to chew Alphys to shreds when we met at the ferry dock, blaming her for somehow doing this to me or keeping me captive for years.
I don’t actually know if this is true, now that I think about it, but Alphys has been nothing but kind to me! And they’re letting me go now right? So what’s the fuss? They don’t deserve this!
Standing between the two was the most I could do as a disorientated blob, but thankfully it was enough to get Roozh to back off. Once Alphys wrongfully apologized, we said our goodbyes and parted ways. I figured if the Doctor still felt this was the best choice, maybe it was best not to fight it.
The cloaked Ferryperson whistled their songs lightheartedly as we went. It must’ve been when we were halfway there that they glanced back at us with their patched eye and chittered in a sweet, dusty, voice, “So the pigeon escapes the oil,” their crunkled whiskers glinted through a smile before they turned back to guide the boat, “If you’re in need of change, a picture’s worth is a thousand. Haha, but it seems you are already earning. What will you write next, I wonder…?”
The familiarity with which they spoke boggled me, but I didn’t respond– I couldn’t, and Roozh didn’t either. They were too busy staring into oblivion to complain I guess. Silence defined much of the trip down the river, broken by a splish of water against the hull, or an occasional huff or miffed sigh from my pink chaperone. There was something calming, yet dreadful about the water here. Unlike the clear, sterilized water from the lab or the clouds of dry steam in Hotland, this water was so dark and quiet, and when I looked over the boat’s edge, I didn’t recognize my molten reflection at first. I was expecting something else, something… pointy… and far more charming.
“Hey, be careful would you?” Roozh finally broke the silence to tug lightly at my cloak. When I didn’t move, their image appeared next to mine, a distinct nose surviving the quivering distortion to their silhouette; that, and a worried, skeptical pinch to their features. Somehow, I felt they looked more like myself than I did.
I smiled, seeing them, like seeing an old friend appear around a corner, but it dissolved as soon as I remembered their earlier hostility.
“I never did understand what’s so great about all the trouble you put yourself through,” the other sighed, crossing their arms over the boat’s edge, “The Doctor told me all you could remember was your name…” they frowned, turning away from me, “and that silly title you were so proud of, so… I don’t expect you to understand what I’m even talking about. Just– just be careful.”
Those were the last words exchanged before we arrived to Wood Land. We stopped someplace blotched with a mysterious light that lacked any warmth, where the trees stretched high out of sight and spread far out of view. One would think that a place called “Wood Land" would be full of warmth, busy buzzing creatures and thriving flora but the trees lining the land were pale when we arrived. Their leaves collected atop my makeshift cloak before we’d even parted from the boat, like some desperate attempt to flee. The air was chilly here, and the grass crunched, dead underfoot from the frosts.
“Perhaps we will meet again. Or perhaps not,” The Ferryperson bid.
I hesitated on the small dock, their blurb from earlier still swimming around in my head. The cloaked figure watched me, unconcerned but curious. So I scrambled together some gestures they might understand: Pointing at them, tapping my partied mouth, pretending to write in my notebook.
‘You speak of writing…’
I twisted back to check that Roozh wasn’t bothered by my curiosity, but they were turned away from us, talking to someone on the phone with a cheery tone that made my skin crawl.
The cloaked figure responded with far more than I ever expected, “Yes, you treated it as both an art and a science. Seeing you again, I imagine your next work will be rather interesting, hah!” they bent over to consider another option, “Or maybe not interesting at all.”
I took the opportunity to show the Ferryperson my horrendous notes, turning through my early attempts to communicate with Dr. Alphys.
“Oh my…” Ferryperson tilted their head, their messed-up whiskers twitching with intrigue.
“Are you done yet?” Roozh’s voice was still far away, but it made me jump all the same, slapping the book shut and squeezing it preciously to my chest.
“I suppose we are!”
“Well? C’mon Jay, I don’t have all day!”
I don’t think I was doing well in hiding how miffed I was. At this point it was a wonder if literally anyone else would be a better ward than this miserable stiff. It was a wonder I needed a caretaker at all! How hard could it be to make a living in this place? I’d done well enough for myself before hadn’t I?
I bet I did!
On our way through the woods, it was increasingly apparent that Roozh was already trying to ditch me. Their pace kept getting faster, I shambled and flung my body to keep up, eventually practically cartwheeling on points as they started hopping and skipping up trunks and between branches. When I mis-judged a skip, clearing the branch entirely, I fell slower than I expected. My body fanned into thin layers as it caught on the air– which was pretty cool, not gonna lie– but this was all background noise to my flailing, however, especially when one of my flailing appendages ‘caught’ on Roozh’s baby blue blouse.
“Hey! Wh-!? AYIE!” their shrill mixed with my squawks as I continued to grab onto them and they continued to entangle themselves in the branches below.
Once I realized we weren’t actually falling and they realized I hadn’t suddenly turned homicidal, we both promptly fixed ourselves and agreed that this particular bumble didn’t happen and proceeded to Roozh’s home with efficient silence.
Only one interruption occurred in the form of a bright yellow creature jumpscaring us both just shy of the treehouse’s front door. Sporting a smoky grey blazer and an excessively sparkly chain, their smile was just as intense as their complexion. They were glowing, literally. I could feel my eyes turning into the intruder's namesake from its intensity.
“I thought I heard beauty on the wind~!”
“Not now, Blyndcite,” Roozh grumbled. I couldn’t have agreed more with the name or the tone of their rejection. My chaperone sulked in front of the door as they fished for their keys. Blyndcite wasn’t leaving, and instead pondered me, for a moment, then looked back to Roozh, then to me again with a frown which flipped back into a smile in a blink.
“Say there, bud, I don’t think we’ve met before! You're new in tow- Ahk!” a pine cone abruptly bounced off his face, then another, and another, each one landing with a louder crack than the last.
“Get LOST! I’m not in the mood!” Roozh readied another toss.
“B-but–!”
I also picked a pine cone and gave it my best sling. It landed square on the intruder’s noggin and pride flared instantly.
“I get it, I get it! Yahk!” As suddenly as they arrived, Blyndcite disappeared into the browning canopy and relieved us of their obnoxious luminance. We took refuge in the treehouse as soon as Roozh could get the damn door open, but I could hardly say it was a relaxing atmosphere.
The place was littered with… stuff. Not, dirty, or even messy, just cluttered.
I couldn’t immediately tell what everything was; an assembly of cloth here, a collage of drawings there, wooden body parts with jewels and patterned scarves adorning them. It was hard to tell when the kitchen stopped and when the living room started amongst the sea of things.
“This is just work stuff,” Roozh gathered up an armfull of said ‘work stuff’ on their way to the kitchen and dumped them in a different pile of miscellaneous artifacts as if it improved things.
Not that I was judging, of course, this was a hot contender for Alphy’s office but at least Alphys had an excuse.
I gravitated toward the fireplace, despite my prior incident in said lab. The pit was but a cold block of wood and pile of stale ash, instead my attention was drawn to the picture frames along its upper ledge. Housed within each frame was a colorful cast of various monsters, at the center of it all was a mug mugshot of one handsome looking mailman with quite the competitive schnozz. They were bit boxier in build compared to Roozh’s swooping silhouette. At least, that was the effect of the desaturated ocean blue and pale maroon uniform. He looked nervous, but excited happy. I felt a twinkle of pride, the longer I studied it. That was a critter on the up-and-up! It was like looking into a mirror.
A yellowed quill feather sat still and stiff along the photo’s dusty, faded frame. A small bundle of wildflowers were placed along the bottom. I stretched up to get a closer look and there was something else engraved along the bottom. When I nudged the flowers aside it read:
‘In loving memory, Junqton G. Junqton. #1 Best Baby Brother.’
Suddenly, a piercing bark crashed against my backside.
“DON’T TOUCH–!” Roozh vaulted over the stuff-scape toward the fireplace, but I was already on the ceiling– having jolted up in pursuit of my soul.
Roozh put the flowers back where they were, hands shaking at first, but then clutching into fists as their feathery ponytail bristled in its tie. I thought they would explode then and there but instead a sharp exhale left them. Then, clasping their hands, Roozh chuckled in a syrupy tone.
“Eeehhaha! Actually, I guess I won’t be needing this anymore, now that you’re home~!... Outta nowhere!” They looked up at me with a pitying, yet hospitable smile.
“My apologies for the disturbance. I haven’t been a very good host have I? Let’s get your room set up and a fresh meal going shall we?”
Roozh was sparkling, their flat hue shimmering through a more saturated, equally syrupy spectrum of pinks before they left toward the corridor on the far side of the room. Another shiver went through my core. There was something about that voice, that mask that made me want to crawl right out the window and take my chances. To honor Alphy’s efforts, I considered staying up on the ceiling for the rest of the day, but was already oozing against my will.
The guest room was also full of stuff. Different stuff. Posters, awards, outfits, but mostly unopened boxes packed wall to wall, and on each one was my name: Junqton G. Junqton.
Jay for short, apparently. Junqton D. (Jay) Junqton might have a better ring to if we're switching things up.
My host's projecting voice pinched my attention back to more important matters,“You’re in luck! A few folks remembered that you and I were related so most of your things from your apartment were surrendered to me! I’ll get the boxes cleared out so you’ll be comfortable. In the meantime, could you check that the soup isn’t boiling over?”
I quickly jabbed at the nearest box, then to myself.
“You want to do the boxes?”
I gave my best version of a nod, which was more of a forward and back wobble.
“Alright then, whatever you like, Junqton!” Roozh said cheerily, but a twitch in their eye betrayed their objection before they left.
I wasn’t even sure where to start with all of this, but I couldn't not handle my own things myself. Something told me that Roozh didn’t ask for all of this, and when I placed my closest attempt at a hand on the nearest box, the touch was cushioned by a thick layer of dust.
I think that was when it all really hit me. I suddenly felt drained and pale, sick to my stomach.
My death may have been greatly exaggerated, but I still left people behind. I still left a whole life behind. I couldn’t remember the exact number Roozh had shrieked to Dr. Alphys when they’d arrived to pick me up. Some number of years that I’d been gone.
Dr. Alphys had been more concerned with stabilizing me and collecting data than the exact context of my new existence, but I wouldn't bother her with this just yet; she had enough to do– whatever that was with that robot on her work station.
I felt weaker than usual as I turned to the first box and just stared at it. I stared at it some more and then stared at it again. It wasn’t until a few minutes of this lagging that I realized the desire to open any of these simply didn’t exist. I know that I should, I should be the one to do it, but my arms and legs defied me for reasons wrapped up and sealed away into the darkness of my mind.
“Jay~!” Roozh’s overly cheerful sales voice expanded the room. The lightbulb overhead was a little dim, there were traces of brown fur on a few jackets in the corner. My body had gone painfully rigid, but I was still shaking like a scared animal.
“You okay in there?” a hesitant hand found its way under my hood to ruffle what could be hair or fur or spikes. I tried to say that I was alright, but a tight knot in my chest blocked even the attempt for words, and I found myself gasping instead. My cheeks felt wet and my eyes burned with a hatred I couldn’t quite place as everything became blurry and terribly confusing. Something had been ruined, something precious and so hard to obtain gone to waste.
Next thing I knew, there was a warm pressure around me. Roozh pulled me into a tight hug– as tight as it could get without clipping me in two, anyway.
Hot, wet tears soaked into Roozh’s blue jacket, my face smushed into rose-scented office clothes and I stood there awkwardly holding in a growl of frustration and partially failing.
Roozh sniffled again, patting my back completely unnecessarily, as if they didn’t quite know how to do it. It made me feel like a baby, but not in the comfortable snug way.
“Haha… We’re both terrible at this huh?”
I snorted in response, a sound so wet and gross Roozh visibly flinched, their feathered ponytail curling in disgust.
“Okay, that’s enough. You feel better right?” They pulled back to assess me, but their eyes were crinkled shut, face twisting with a heldback sob. I reached up to pat away the tears before they could ruin carefully applied makeup, and like a hammer to tempered glass the mask completely shattered and they really started sobbing. I’d never seen someone look angry at their own eyeballs before.
“There’s–! There’s soup!” Roozh swatted away my drippy nub-hands and stood with a sniffle, “The soup’s fucking ready, how many times do I have t– to say it–!”
Dinner was an early-bird’s serving of soup and toast. Due to the circumstances of my teeth being lipless, I drank the soup by enrapping my entire body around the bowl and absorbing the nourishment– as one does. Roozh then suddenly became full so I did the same to their soup and toast as well.
We left the guest room alone for the time being and cleared out the living room instead to settle in for the night. I sat on the couch in the living room, ‘journaling’ to the sound of many business calls in the kitchen. Eventually they went silent, but a stolen glance revealed they’d merely gone from taking calls to reviewing a catalog.
“It’s been fifteen years you know,” Roozh finally spoke after some time. When I looked back, bitterness scrunched the base of their nose, eliciting a defensive frown from mine.
“You’d think the new ‘Royal Scientist’ would have a better explanation than ‘I found him in the fridge.”
When they put it like that, I had to admit– silently to myself– that their frustration might be reasonable, but Dr. Alphys had found me in the fridge, it wasn't her fault. The question was who put me in there. Roozh didn’t comment further, they just continued to look distantly out the window.
Something other than this bizarre situation didn’t sit right with me. There was a record that I was at some point labeled missing, yet, no one ever found me until now. Roozh was upset, obviously, and Dr. Alphys had been surprised, but I couldn’t help but feel they’d both moved on from the fact of the matter rather quickly. One would think I did this often and just got carried away this time around.
I could only dig my building questions into a new page on my notebook, recording them in wobbly loops and ping-ponging lines from my spot on the couch.
“Sheesh,” Roozh huffed from over my shoulder, “You competing for a horror graphics exhibit?”
An interesting suggestion; I scratched my hair-fur-spikes to consider. The page was already mostly blackened, but what should have been a meaningless mess of ink made me think of fear.
The realization sent a shiver through my goo.
“Hah! See? I bet you’d win!”
I turned to a new page as a lighter note of curiosity hit me, but I realized I could just ask Roozh themself. To do so, I looked up, pressed my hand-nubs together and flapped them open and closed. It was the most book-like gesture I could think of. Roozh understood immediately.
“Um…, yeah! There should be one around here,” Roozh left to rummage, “Did you want a specific book? I still have your dictionary on the shelf.” Their response made me think I probably already knew the answer to what I was about to ask.
“To be honest, I’m surprised you still remember that little code we made up, maybe it's movement memory… I think that’s what it’s called anyway,” they said as they handed me a large yellow book. It looked like it was completely hand-written, even the cover was an impressive feat of calligraphy. It read:
‘WORDS TO IMPOSE ON SOCIETY AND THEIR MEANINGS
by
JUNQTON G. JUNQTON’
Upon opening to the fore words, I laughed aloud.
‘IT’S ALL MADE UP AND NOW YOU HAVE TO DEAL WITH IT!!!’
Just a few examples, dear reader, for your education:
Smowning - A smile the eyes forgot to tell the mouth about.
Crunkle - a crinkle that’s actually a problem; may need medical attention.
Glooby - highly saturated in bummed-out energy. A downer that doesn’t have to say anything to ruin the mood. (Entry courtesy of Theatre The Ater Mr. The Antre, a real piece of work!)
It was easy to get lost in the hilarity, but eventually I remembered what I meant to do and fished an erasable pen from my inventory - courtesy of the Doctor.
Once all the words were selected I turned the book to ask my question.
‘to speak- in the past- this happened?’ it wasn't my best collage.
Roozh gave a surprised look, but their brow soon crinked in understanding, they took a seat next to me. Their hands idling in thought. Something like hesitation crossed their features, but before I could look into it, they began to move, and just as I could easily read words on a page, Roozh’s gestures were interpreted instantly:
‘When you were little, you never got the hang of talking, so we came up with our own code… The book could’ve been an easy guess, but you probably remember if you can understand this much.’
I blinked a few times, equal parts concerned for myself and intrigued by this advanced form of charades. This would have made things with Alphys a lot easier. I could have told them that dog kibble tastes better than her ‘nutrient sticks’.
‘Try it!’ Roozh shot me an encouraging smile that I wasn’t expecting. With some hesitance, I held up my hands, certain I’d conjure up nonsense. Starting with something simple, like tapping my ears and pointing at the other monster’s hands.
Roozh responded, ‘That means, I hear you.’
My knee-jerk reaction was to argue that that’s exactly what I meant, but then I realized the error and tried again, this time moving my nubs the best I could around themselves.
Roozh smiled even brighter, an expression that seemed to strain their features.
‘That means, I understand your hands.’
I was suddenly feeling bashful under their prideful glow, sucking my nubs back into my body to slump into a blob. I protracted my nubs only momentarily to sign, ‘I’m tired, goodnight,’ before returning to blob.
“Oh c’mon don’t be like that! This is a good thing! It means I don’t have to teach it to you all over again,” they stood and shot me an obnoxiously smug glare before strutting out the room into another hallway, returning a moment later with an armful of blankets. They landed on me in one big pile, squishing me under the weight of stuffing.
“Get some sleep if you’re so tired then, you’re getting a job first thing tomorrow.”
Indeed this beast was a cruel and terrible creature, making a poor, old, mushy man work on their second day back in the world, but I didn’t complain for now. I made myself comfortable under the covers as the lights flickered off and the sound of Roozh doing who-knows-what in the kitchen died down and drifted out of the room.
Once the room finally felt still and the silence settled in, I felt it, a terrible ache in my chest. Surely, some part of me must miss my sibling after fifteen years, but another part, something that was surely deranged, still wanted me to crawl out the window and never come back.