Ia/Ib - I DON'T HAVE ANY FACTS ABOUT THIS ROOM - Dec 1st (Home)

His sleeping cap feels heavier on his skull than usual, Papyrus notes, as he shifts into wakefulness and blinks at the ceiling. All of him feels heavier than usual. And he must have slept heavily, because... he doesn't recognize that ceiling.

Looking to one side, he takes in some truly dated decor, and in a profoundly unfamiliar room. Someone must have moved him in his sleep, without waking him? Sans, presumably. But is it a prank... or surprise? Had he or someone else overheard that phonecall, his comments about the 'vacations', and set something up...? He's too busy for that! Strange heavy lethargy or not!

But then...

Maybe Papyrus glances to his other side, and finds another person on the bed - one who appears to be human. If so, his eyes widen at the sight, and a plainly forced smile overtakes his face as he asks, "h-how did you bypass all of the puzzles?"

Or maybe the other occupant's already bolted, leaving a visibly empty and warm space to puzzle the still half-asleep skeleton. That gives him time to push out of bed, and really take in how his body isn't moving how he's used to. Time to look down and notice all the extra features his bones have gained, like muscles and skin and hair, and shriek. Loudly.

II - A WORLD WHERE THEY DON'T KNOW HOW TO VACUUM - Dec 3rd (Home)

It is, unfortunately, not the first time Papyrus has met a human so quick to violence. Maybe it shouldn't have been a surprise, how quickly the living room situation has escalated.

But it is a surprise, one he's still reeling from. All the other humans he's met now (supposed 'family' members and neighbors alike) have hardly reminded him of that first human, underground. This salesman was impeccably dressed, offering a great tool for cleaning! A far cry from the shambling child, increasingly spattered in dust, their gloves downright coated in it.

And yet... That aggressive salespitch, pushing into the house like a child once trampled all over his puzzles. The impatience and inclination to proceed to other targets, regardless of the manners of a situation...

"Hey, you don't need to cut the prices or the customers," he protests, raising his hands in a placating way. "If you put down the knife, I can pull out my wallet?"

III - I'VE ACTUALLY NEVER DONE THIS BEFORE - Dec 20th (Street, Fire Department Shelter)

A couple weeks, a couple breakdowns. Some in his emotions, and done privately - or as privately as he could manage, since suddenly finding himself human was too alarming to fully hide from his new housemates. Some breakdowns were mechanical, and offered opportunities to be surprised by the new-yet-old-timey electrical wiring of the house, or his favorite thing yet - excuses to 'pop the hood' of the very real car found parked in the driveway!

Right now, the car is fine, and not in the driveway. It's on a different curb, parked a little closer to one of those dog urination posts than it should be. The current breakdown is to the social order, as the radio continues blaring all kinds of very concerning words about evacuating to safe locations.

He leaves the car behind, keys in hand, to make his way to where he thinks the fire department is - the sight of other people walking in the same direction, shooting fearful glances at the sky or openly weeping, are good indications he's on the right path! It's strange to actually go along with an evacuation, but, well... It's not like he knows where 'the enemy' is, to go offer them a chastising speech about murder. Not yet. Maybe he can ask one of the others walking towards the shelter, or ask one of the authorities inside. Just as soon as he finds someone who isn't obviously distressed about things.

IV - DO YOU WANT TO PRACTICE MONOLOGUES TOGETHER? - Dec 22nd (XMas Party)

In the aftermath of the evacuation, the words on everyone's lips were neighborhood Christmas party. Papyrus gets it - that's how the world works, after all. Live in continuous background fear that death will come, helpless to really prevent it, and do one's best to smile and keep going anyway! Why dwell on alarming surprises like that? He hadn't needed the encouragements to go to the party, when it's something to look forward to, and a mannerly thing to do besides.

He's glad he came, but, well... It's a surprise, just how far he has to go in the arts of looking on the bright side. It's almost awe-inspiring, just how convincingly the partygoers are completely disregarding the stress of things! Almost no whispers of the scare this week at all. A skeleton-man-of-the-house could take notes!

So that's exactly what he's doing. Going around with a punch glass or small plate of barely touched food in hand, mingling with a purpose. Sometimes, he stares at various partygoers with occasionally too-long stretches of forgetting to blink, until his eyelids flutter unconsciously and he rubs at them. Sometimes, he's actively in the conversations, doing his best to smile the same way they do, match their cheerful conversation with similar banter in turn.

WILDCARD
(Feel free to tag as action tags or prose as you prefer, I'll match what you use! I'm also open to other prompts, using locations like the yet-generic diner for milkshakes and reminiscing, or variations on the log's prompts. PM me here or swirlingflight to touch base!)