The Immortal Dream

by Czar_Yoshi

Protagonist Privilege

Papyrus stood at the prow of his airship, his teeth dry from the wind as he grinned out at the mountains.

It was an Equestrian model, with ornate beating wings and a long, graceful rudder, hanging from a dirigible that was shaped like a cross between a glider and a sail. From what he'd been able to tease out, most Equestrian airships were somehow powered by proximity to major pegasus cities; this one was a special long-distance model that had been retrofitted with a secondary propulsion mechanism more akin to the ones commercially available in the north. That made its wings largely ornamental after the first day or two of travel, but he didn't mind. They still looked cool.

"The Aldenfold," Felicity said, stepping up beside him with an assassin's grace and looking forlornly out over the railing. "My sisters say we could be in the Empire before nightfall."

Papyrus felt an old instinct to flex claws he no longer had.

"Do you have a moment?" Felicity asked, placing her gaze on him instead. "We go much further, and we'll lose the ability to write this off as a pleasure cruise and go home. And I'd feel a bit more comfortable with one more serious conversation about our plans here put behind me before we make landfall."

Her words echoed distantly in Papyrus's ears. He saw only mountains, ones he had crossed many times in his lives in varying states of desperation. He saw his old kingdom looming ahead in his mind's eye; the vision of it that he wanted to leave for his sister, the cesspit his maddened self had perceived it to be, its true past and present states, neither of which he had seen clearly. His goals for it that were too new and nebulous to pin down.

"Knock yourself out," he said absently, still trying to envision something the Empire could become that would form a complete picture with everything else he had seen at as.

"I'm worried," Felicity told him, speaking loudly over the wind, "about our contingencies. Currently, the plan as I've heard it seems to be get there, see what we have to work with, and then take over the Griffon Empire. There are some minor ideas about what to do with it after that, but let's ignore that for now. What I want is to hear your honest and earnest idea of how long you think this will take and what kind of time commitment you think we're making."

"Worried I'll get bored a week in when we discover we have precious little to work with?" Papyrus raised an eyebrow. "Think I'm here for a quick rush of adrenaline, that I'm expecting we can just waltz back in and keep cashing in on all the setup we did last time around?"

Felicity hesitated. "If nothing else, I'd like to hear your thought process around those matters."

"Well, I hope it takes forever," Papyrus said, turning back to the mountains passing below. "If we got this done and over with in a week, it would do a pretty shabby job of giving me something to do with myself, don't you think?"

Felicity said nothing.

Papyrus flicked his tail. "Last time, we got as far as we did with my princely position, the secret backing of the powers that be, Meltdown's ability to manipulate energy prices for the entire Empire, plenty of greedy and corrupt sphinxes to extort for money and influence, and with all that it took us roughly five years of scheming for everything to come together. This time, we've got our reputations and the probably-secret heir to Stormhoof, whatever any of that counts for in this day and age. Furthermore, the catalyst last time that let us set our plans in motion was the specter of a war between Ironridge and Yakyakistan, which is happening again, right now."

He closed his eyes, trying to find focus in the wind on his face. "It's possible we really will be able to waltz back in, flip the table on the status quo, and own the place before the week is through. It's also possible that we get there and literally everyone is dead. Or perhaps there's been a revolution while I wasn't looking and everyone is now so happy that it would be pointless for us to tamper further. Optimally, we'll find all our current tools useless and can integrate ourselves into society like ordinary civilians, slowly building up social capital in the name of a lengthy and impossible goal that allows the years to slip by in a manner that doesn't feel quite so directionless, but that's a pipe dream and we all know it. How do you want this to go?"

"I," Felicity said, wrapped tightly in a fur coat, "have my duties to the Princess and to my family. I'm getting old, Papyrus. And my daughter is growing up. I already feel as though I haven't struck the right balance for her, trying to provide an environment where she can live a normal life without fear of the specter of sphinx madness claiming her mind. If we spend ten, twenty years on this, it's going to be my last hurrah, the last great project I do with my life. But even three years for Floria could be some of the most precious and formative years she's going to get. And all I can think about is how this project of ours will cause her to spend them."

She took a moment to catch her breath, but Papyrus didn't bother interrupting with a witty remark. His old self would have seen Floria as a potent and powerful tool - and he knew that the reason she was conceived was because Felicity once saw her as the same. And she was a powerful tool. Possibly the best one they had, depending on the state of the Empire.

He had resolved to do things differently and better this time, as a prerequisite for even trying. He had promised himself that he would learn from his mistakes. But that was difficult when he didn't know how else to see her, and so the best balance - and not a very good one - he had managed to strike was pretending Floria didn't exist at all.

"I need to know," Felicity continued, "under what circumstances you would consider abandoning or changing your goals. Not because I think trying to atone for past wrongs isn't noble, and not that I suspect the Empire is a perfectly happy place where there's nothing to be done to make it better. I need to know how you would react if I decided my daughter's needs had to take precedence over those of our plans."

She swallowed. "You remember, last time I wavered at the very end and almost broke. Looking back, I wish I had changed my mind earlier. You're trying to learn from your own mistakes and do better this time, aren't you? Well, I am too. And for me, that means talking in advance about the possibility that our loyalty to the cause might not be absolute."

Papyrus frowned. This was exactly his problem. "I've worked with disloyal pieces before. I know how to plan around the possibility that someone won't always do as I want. It's what I was good at. And having frank conversations with prospective traitors about their prospective treachery that didn't involve threats or blackmail to keep them in line was never in the playbook."

He rounded on her. "I know we're saying we'll do things differently, and I solemnly swear I won't use unsavory means to keep you or anyone else in line. Cross my heart, lesson learned. But what if that does happen? What if we call it all off weeks or months or years in the future, amicably go our separate ways or even stick together, sans our dreams of conquest? If all that happens and I'm a nice and good sport about watching my new plans crumble into dust, what do I do next?"

Felicity looked uncomfortable. "That's more or less what I'm asking you. If myself and Floria left, I promise we would do it in as minimally inconvenient a way as possible that wouldn't stop you from continuing with the others, unless I truly and earnestly believed you needed to be stopped. But if you yourself chose to end your ambitions, presumably it would be for a good enough reason that you'd find your present fears silly. Speaking from experience, last time, I was terrified that something would tempt me from our path. And like I said, I wish I hadn't been."

"The whole point of this is to give me something to do with my life," Papyrus half sighed, half growled. "I died. By all rights I shouldn't exist. What kept me going in this life ever since I was old enough to understand that was the hope of finding the reason I was brought back, and now I finally know that it was nothing more meaningful than a child goddess who couldn't live with letting me get in the last word. I need there to be a reason I'm still here. I can't have all this just be meaningless. And if we fail to accomplish anything, that's exactly what it will be. I can't risk that. But I also can't play dirty to hedge against that without defeating the point of doing it at all."

"Can't you?" Felicity asked. "Isn't that what happened last time? Our plans came tumbling down despite all the foul play in the world, and it was all because one of us changed their mind at the last minute. Despite how... unconflicted you were about it all. And unless I'm very badly mistaken, you're glad our ambitions were stopped."

"Perhaps," Papyrus admitted. "But if they hadn't been foiled, I wouldn't be in this present pickle to begin with. All I want is to accomplish something worth accomplishing. It doesn't have to be reconquering the Griffon Empire, that's just a goal for the sake of having a goal. And ideally I'd do it in a way that's not so ridiculously evil that it makes it no longer worth doing. A little jaywalking is fine, maybe some petty slander and burglary or punching someone's lights out, but no more trying to assassinate someone by driving them to suicide and all that."

"Or trying to frame someone else when he didn't go through with it," Felicity added. "Which you claimed was the plan all along."

"Yes, not one of my finer moments." Papyrus waved her off with a wing. "Our finer moments. But what's the alternative? Is being nice and friendly and telling you how fine I am with the possibility that you could take Floria and bail on our plans going to prevent you from actually doing it? Doubtful. Is there a nice and friendly way at all to ensure that doesn't happen? Who knows? Not me. All my talents and experience revolve around putting the skull in skullduggery. So either I'm a naive villain who doesn't know how to be effective and nice at the same time, or such a thing simply can't be done in the first place. Both cases mean that for me, do something and make it worth doing are mutually exclusive."

He hung his head. "That's why I'm hoping waiting and scouting out the Empire's present state will yield us some magical answers that make this no longer an issue. Best case, everyone's so rotten and evil that we won't have to feel bad at all about unwitting hostages and extortion and mind control because they'll have it coming, but that's what I thought last time and it didn't work out so well."

Felicity thought for a moment. "You really have changed, you know? High Prince Gazelle would never have grappled with the tradeoff between doing something ethically and effectively, let alone where another person could hear him."

Papyrus groaned. "Yes, thank you for noticing, it's been a bumpy ride. Are you going to carry on like a lovesick parent, or will you make it worth my while to talk about this kind of stuff by giving me an answer I can do something with?"

"All I can say is that you shouldn't get too attached to your goals," Felicity said, banishing her smile and shaking her head. "For the longest time I thought the meaning to my life was protecting my sisters and getting back at those who were responsible for the state of our world. It gave me the strength to survive in grueling circumstances no child should have been forced to endure, yes, but my reluctance to let go meant that when a new, better purpose came to me, I almost didn't grab on in time. If the only meaning of this trip to you is looking for something to do with yourself, you had better keep your eyes open so you won't miss it when you see it."

Papyrus said nothing.

"That's my advice," Felicity said. "Born from lived experience. My purpose now is ensuring that Floria has a future. Think as big or small as you like, but that's good enough for me."

Papyrus sighed. "Right. Got it. Imagine I gave you a witty joke about being too young for responsible fatherhood in this body, and go do whatever it is you do when I'm not looking. I've got some thinking to do, please and thank you. And once we get there, let's try to stay stealthy and undercover for just one day, learn what we can, not get involved, and then have the big conversation about exactly how much we all want to commit to this plan."

Felicity politely bowed. "I'll be down below, then. May your thoughts bring clarity."

Papyrus made a show of watching the mountains as she left. He really did need to think, even though no amount of thought could solve a problem that was fundamentally born of overthinking things. If only he could just not care about reconciling his past with his present, or about justifying why he was still alive...

But there was another reason he had sent her off as well.

"How long have you been eavesdropping?" Papyrus asked. "And can you really hear us from that far away?"

Across the deck, Discord rolled his eyes, then climbed out of a trash bin that had been bolted down near an outdoor dining area. "Do you even need to ask?"

"Well?" Papyrus asked, turning back to the mountains. "Going to tell me something useful for a change, or just plaster me with more riddles?"

Discord grinned. "Oh, don't worry, this one will be an easy riddle. And I've only got one this time, too!"

"Fine," Papyrus sighed. "I could use a distraction. Hit me with your best shot."

"If the present-day Griffon Empire was the setting in a story," Discord said, standing directly behind him and yet somehow perfectly audible over the wind, "who would be the protagonist?"

Papyrus frowned.

"Simple, isn't it?" He could hear Discord smiling.

"Simple for you to tell me whatever I say is wrong, maybe," Papyrus grunted. "This is about whether I end up on the right side of history, isn't it? As a protagonist or a villain. And it's going to lead into a lengthy lecture about who gets to decide that, and eventually you're going to tell me no one does and thus it was a pointless question all along, and the moral will be that I'm thinking too hard about this and the solution is to add parables that complicate things further. I know how you work."

Discord chuckled ominously. "You think you know me so well."

"Go ahead," Papyrus groaned. "Tell me how even that is completely wrong and off the mark."

"Well." Discord strummed his talons and claws together ominously. "What if... I was the protagonist?"

"Doubt it," Papyrus said, not even stopping to consider.

"Correct! I'm not." Discord winked. "Although I can be whenever I want to. But what if the protagonist was someone completely different, unrelated to either of us? What if our little conversation here didn't even merit an inclusion in their story because we were both nobodies, background characters or even never appeared at all?"

Papyrus shrugged. "What if that was the case? Alright. Go on. Tell me what that would mean."

Discord blew a raspberry. "Well, I'm not the one running around dissatisfied with his role in things. All I'm saying is, what if it wasn't your job to fix everything and heroically put the place back together specifically because someone else is already doing that? For that matter, what if the story wasn't even about grand politics and heroism at all, and instead the protagonist was a humble farmer in Goldfeather who tended their crops and lived a peaceful, uneventful existence?"

"Are you trying to convince me to become a farmer?" Papyrus raised an eyebrow. "Or to settle for some other humble life, and leave the Empire up to whoever else feels like stepping up? Because you could just say so directly."

"No, I've got something more esoteric in mind," Discord mused, rubbing his chin. "Suppose I rephrased the question. You're not trying to guess who the protagonist is. You're deciding who they are. Who would you choose?"

Papyrus blinked.

Discord patiently smiled.

Papyrus narrowed his eyes.

"Can't even answer a simple question at face value," Discord lamented. "My, my. You know, most people would pick themselves without a second thought. Aren't you the only person you concretely know for sure has thoughts and feelings? Look at Felicity. She tells you plenty about what she's feeling, but how do you know she's not just a meat robot running through the actions? Or worse, reading from a predetermined script? Why, picking anyone but yourself could be tantamount to admitting they might see you this way!"

"Why ask me this?" Papyrus pressed. "What changes based on my answer? Those farmers will keep on farming regardless of how important I think they are. Perhaps you get a kick out of philosophical discussions about the nature of reality and this is only a matter of entertainment, but right now I'm in the market for cold, hard advice on what to do about my problems."

Discord reached forward, and in one swift motion booped Papyrus on the nose.

Papyrus swatted at him. "Do you mind taking this even remotely seriously for once in your existence?"

"The first time I did that," Discord said, his tone deadly serious, "I made you a protagonist. This time, I'm giving you one free use to spend on whoever you see fit. Think good and hard before using it."

"That didn't do anything," Papyrus pointed out. "Not last time, and not this time, either. You just want to see me mash someone's nose in."

Discord winked. "While that would undoubtedly be hilarious, and it might not look like it does anything to your eyes, it does, in fact, do something. Are you tired of our games? Do you want me to tell you what it does?"

Papyrus raised an eyebrow. "Try me."

"This whole plan of yours to take over the Griffon Empire," Discord said, slowly strolling away. "You've changed from how you used to be, but it's still all about yourself. You're not thinking about how the people who live there feel. You're not thinking about how your friends feel. You're not thinking about how poor Floria feels. You're coming to realize you've found no fulfillment across your lives, and you're searching desperately to find some, yet for no reason more than your own sake, your own peace of mind, your own atonement for your own sins."

His neck elongated, letting his head orbit Papyrus even as he continued his march to the trash can. "The boop might not do anything, at least not from your perspective. But considering who to use it on? Thinking about other people, their own ambitions and desires, whether or not they ought to matter to the grand course of history? If you become the ruler of a country, you won't need any of my powers to decide that for everyone. In fact, you were quite enthusiastic about it last time around. So put some thought into it. Every last person you come across, starting with your friends and extending to strangers in the road, think good and hard about how much they matter and whether their story deserves to be told."

Discord climbed back into the trash can, his body disappearing, his neck retracting after it like a hose. "Perhaps you can find in them the purpose you seek. Or perhaps they can find in you a ruler who sees them as more than background characters in a story. And if you ever reach a point where you realize you don't need my boop to make them matter to the story, you'll find yourself in possession of a tool far more powerful than a ticket to a cheap laugh."

He disappeared, leaving Papyrus to stare at his own hoof.

Was he being selfish, trying to fix up the Empire for the sake of his own peace of mind? It wasn't selfish if the masses benefited from it too, even if he was technically more interested in the benefit to himself. That was the difference between who he was now and who he used to be. Now, he was taking care to ensure he went about his business in a way that was beneficial to society, or at least not detrimental.

There was no way all Discord wanted was for him to have a what if other people matter epiphany. That was a concept for foals; even admitting it shouldn't be taken as a given and still belonged on the table was embarrassing. What, had Papyrus just been lectured like a five-year-old who didn't know how to share? He had just told Felicity all about how he was doing this in a way that wasn't evil and didn't trample...

Papyrus's heart sank. He couldn't finish his train of thought. The truth was, he had absolutely no idea how to do what Discord asked. When he looked at other ponies, he saw logic and rules; things he could say and ways he could press in order to get different responses. That was just how things were. Presumably, it was how everyone saw everyone else, and it was an unspoken rule for nobody to let anyone else know they were in on the masquerade. And, presumably, he had always just been a little better at figuring out how those rules worked for the people he met than everyone else.

Trying to change his ways was, at heart, a conscious choice not to exploit that. For reasons that he used to neither understand nor accept, and now accepted while no longer trying to understand.

Papyrus hated looking at himself this way. He wanted to shy away, to go back to brooding in circles about the Empire. But he needed a way past his current conundrum. Discord had finally spoken plainly, and Papyrus was just about desperate enough to give even that advice a serious try.

And so the ship flew on, Papyrus standing at its prow, making a silent resolution to himself to look someone in the eye and try to imagine them in his place as the protagonist of his story.

---

"Still out here, are you?" Felicity asked some hours later, this time accompanied by both of her sisters and even Floria. The ship was idling, a sheer, gigantic cliff just before them where the mountains fell away to an endless expanse of water.

The northern sea.

Papyrus nodded, the Empire once again back in his thoughts. Far to the east, the coastline began, Stormhoof Castle on an island right up against the shore, close in the shadow of the Aldenfold.

Or, at least, it was probably still there. As with everything else about the Empire, he would get to see for himself soon enough.

"We need to talk shop," Senescey declared, the early evening sun at her back. "Confirm our plans before we act on them. First and foremost, our first destination is that island down there. Stormhoof Castle Town. Is anyone not on board with this or concerned about it in any manner that going elsewhere could address?"

"My reasoning hasn't changed," Papyrus said, ignoring Floria's intent gaze. "That place was one of my favorite haunts, and one of yours as well. If anyone is going to recognize us, that's where it will happen, and if we're going to get rustled I'd much rather have it happen early in than once we've got an operation going and have something to lose. By the same token, it was also the province that most directly felt the effects of our chaos. If any place harbors ill feelings towards us, that one is at the top of the list. Now, I'm not saying we choose Stormhoof as a long-term base of operations. But for testing the waters, no place is less likely to give us a false negative."

It was Floria who spoke next. "Stormhoof is the province of my father."

Papyrus tapped his wingtips together and gave an awkward grin. "Without getting toooo deep into the nitty-gritty, yes, it is. Though now that I think on it, right before everything went south I might have tried a short-lived ploy involving convincing everyone you were actually the heir to Gyre, which could work for or against us depending whether anyone who remembers it is still alive. And what our goals are."

He hesitated, the sight of Discord's retreating head rattling around in his mind. "I mean... depending on what your goals are."

Floria looked somewhere between taken aback and intrigued. "Of all the ponies here, I hadn't imagined the first to ask what I want out of all this would be you. But very well." She sighed. "I agree with the present consensus that I should hide aboard the ship and otherwise conceal my race and lineage until you can confirm the present public sentiment towards sphinxes. However, I don't see anything that sentiment could feasibly be that would allow me to productively contribute, or do anything other than hide. These concerns apply no matter where in the Empire we make berth, but doubly so in a land where my family once ruled. I desire that you spare no effort in remediating these concerns, and worry only that it will be harder to do so here, should you encounter any pressing reason to stay in Stormhoof. I would rather not become a monarch or a political pariah, but I have little more desire to spend the entirety of this venture alone on a boat."

I want to be useful. Let me help.

Her words pressed themselves into Papyrus's freshly Discord-addled brain, stripped of their mannerisms and reduced to their essence. It was a simple motivation, one he could reduce a lot of creatures to. Also a very easy one to exploit. All you had to do with someone like that was tell them you needed them, reinforce the message over time, and they would be hooked.

But... imagine if this return to the Empire was her story, not his?

It probably wouldn't make for a very good story if the main character was perpetually out of the action, he decided. Her desire might have been simple, but it was reasonable.

Papyrus left it at that. Strangers on the street, sure, but he really didn't like the idea of himself as a side character in Floria's life. Besides, he had thought about it, made an effort, probably done himself and Discord proud. Probably.

The sisters were talking logistics, and Papyrus wasn't listening. He could do more, if he tried to find a way for Floria to contribute, even if it overcomplicated things or reduced the success chances of the plan. But for all the fuss he had made earlier, taking over the Empire wasn't really what mattered. It was about finding something to do with himself. And entertaining Discord's advice technically counted as something to do. Besides, Floria's reaction to him helping her for no apparent reason would be entertaining.

Sure. He gave himself a satisfied smile, put it on display with no context for all to see, and wrote down help make Floria useful as the new top item in his secret mental plan.

---

The first thing Papyrus noticed about Stormhoof Castle, aside from the fact that it was still bustling and not an overgrown ruin, was the airships.

Back in his day, the Empire hadn't owned any airship technology, the machines and their inner workings too new and complex and zealously guarded by other nations for his country to have set up an industry yet - and they had little incentive to, with their relatively small continent and river system for effortless local travel. The castle used to have only one dock, reserved for private transports on nobility business, while seafaring vessels occupied an elaborate and massive system of sheltered docks down below.

Now, he saw that same spidery harbor, serving slightly less traffic than in his heyday, yet still very much alive. But above it was an entirely new setup, constructed from the roofs of buildings and the walls of the keep in the center of the island. White stone piers supported by lumber from the sides and steel from below, ramps and lifts leading up and down, a brand new airship dock fit perfectly into the island's pile-of-buildings aesthetic, offering loading space for no less than thirty vessels. And in the distance, on the mainland, Papyrus could make out a landing field that hadn't been there before, where ships were grounded for maintenance or to conserve energy.

"Well, that's a good sign," Papyrus remarked, standing next to Senescey, who was presently disguised as a pegasus who could have been his sister. Together, they would be the preliminary exploration party; it was decided that the two undisguised sarosians might want to sit out the first scouting mission until they discovered how the Empire felt about those, too.

"Indeed," Senescey said, her voice slightly higher-pitched due to her form. "It's encouraging that they've not only managed to survive, but build new infrastructure."

Papyrus winked cheekily. "Oh, that? I was talking about how we wouldn't be tempted to use the scarcity of airships as the foundation for a gambit involving confiscating Varsidelian merchant ships in order to raise tensions to justify moving troops around again."

"A shame, too," Senescey said, her voice distant. "That was actually one of your better plans. And from the things I've heard, all the troops you pre-positioned for your intended coup meant they put up a better defense against Chrysalis than they could have if those armies hadn't been deployed throughout the Empire."

Papyrus had no quip for that.

"Anyways." Senescey shook her head. "You take the lead. I'm ready when you are."

Papyrus jumped over the railing.

Wind whipped around his feathers and pulled at his cheeks as he spiraled, snapped out his wings, and pulled up into a glide, Senescey following in his wake as the ship pulled up and away - there was no sense paying for mooring when they could just fly.

Stormhoof spun and grew in Papyrus's vision as he straightened out and looped closer, dipping between two rooftops into an alley, curving and rising with the roadway, ducking under an arch where another road crossed this one. He laughed in exhilaration, skimming past pedestrians who reacted as if they saw nothing more than a pair of reckless teenagers having a race.

Sphinxes had always been hampered by cultural expectations around their wings. Wings were a sign of power; Garsheeva was seen by most of the public only when she took to the skies. Wielding that power was a sign of dominance, more so than any griffon or pegasus exercising theirs. Keeping them furled was a sign of respect and restraint. As a sphinx, Papyrus had never believed in those; he flew as often as he could as a symbol of freedom and defiance, rebellion against that institution and its norms.

But wheeling in the imperial sky as a pegasus, like he had seen so many pegasi and griffons do so long ago... This feeling was completely different, because it meant nothing at all.

His old motivations? He was beneath them. And so, for a moment, Papyrus put his mission aside and flew, Senescey matching his movements, and was free.

Eventually, they landed in a plaza that offered some rare green space, backed by a fountain, a road winding around it.

"Look at that," Senescey said, furling her wings beside him and nodding at the fountain. "Wonder how much power that takes to run. They never could have afforded this in our days."

Papyrus nodded. "I'll bet once Gersheeva disappeared, everyone started digging their own mana wells, and power is plentiful now. Or at the very least not a leash used to control the provinces."

"Well?" Senescey asked, looking across the stream of pedestrians walking by. "So far no one seems to be paying us too much mind."

"So far so good," Papyrus agreed, scanning the crowd. Not a single sarosian, though that wasn't too different from twenty years ago - Stormhoof hadn't been a friendly province for them even before Chrysalis came through and enslaved them all. "I vote we find a newspaper."

Senescey flipped a coin and caught it, already leading the way.

As they walked, Papyrus craned his ears to pick up muttering. The crowd was at ease, with no one making an effort to guard their voices, no post-apocalyptic vibe permeating the conversation. He even saw two young mothers sharing a bench, watching their children play. Evidently times were good enough, at least in this city, that starting families was still a palatable option.

He almost started to look away when the oldest of the kids - a male grifflet with a dark coat, probably around ten - spotted him, met his eyes, beamed, and came ambling over.

"Hey, mister!" the grifflet chirped, swaggering like only a ten-year-old could, his mother fast on her way to scoop him up. "Great cosplay!"

"Cosplay?" Papyrus blinked. "Ah, yes, I'm quite proud of this one. Glad to see a kid like you appreciating the finer aspects of culture, right?"

The grifflet started to respond, but was swaddled in his mother's wings before he could get anything coherent out. "I'm so sorry about that," she apologized with a submissive smile, pulling the squawking grifflet back, undoubtedly preparing to lecture him about the wisdom of talking to strangers.

Papyrus gave her a disarming Grandbell salute and a wink, and turned to leave. But internally, he was frowning: was Prince Gazelle Cosplayer really the first thing that crossed anyone's mind when they saw him? Sure, he used to make jokes about this very thing, but mostly for jump-scaring people who were around back then. This kid, by contrast, had been born well after his reign of terror. Even the kid's mother was probably too young to have known much about politics back then, unless she was very unlucky. And the kid thought he was cool...

Hopefully there was someone else the kid had mistaken him for an impostor of. If his legacy had somehow morphed into a form that could produce a reaction like that among children... Well, at the very least, it might be useful. But it was also a sign that not all might be as it should be.

Comments

[Zapdroid]

Can someone describe to me how much Papyrus differs right now from his original form? It’s been so long and I want to get an idea of how close he looks to his old self now that it’s getting relevant again.

Hopefully we can follow his story for a while here; I’m very curious to see where it leads!

[Okie Brony]

I love it when my notifications thingy works and notifies me of stuff! I'm always happy to see a new chapter of my favorite longfic.

The long-awaited return of Discord. I love the mental image of his neck retracting into the trash can like a hose into a reel, with his talking head as the sprayer.

I don't think I've ever read the word "grifflet" before. I like it! It reminds me of Weird Al's "Am-lettes" in "Amish Paradise." Can't wait to find out who the grifflet thought Papyrus was cosplaying as.

🎶We sell quilts at discount price, livin' in an Amish paradise!🎵

[ZanyZapper]

11803925
Yeah I'm wondering myself, since he's a Pegasus now and was a sphinx before. For some reason I picture him as kind of beige and generic looking but that might be my head just filling in a placeholder since I can't remember the actual design. I don't think anyone has made the connection to Gazelle based on looks alone so I'm not sure who the kid thought he was cosplaying as.

[Czar_Yoshi]

11803925
Basically identical, except he's a pegasus instead of a sphinx, and a little younger.

[Venlinelle]

"The first time I did that," Discord said, his tone deadly serious, "I made you a protagonist. This time, I'm giving you one free use to spend on whoever you see fit. Think good and hard before using it."

This chapter is brilliant. The way you use Discord’s literal story-manipulation powers metaphorically in such a way that the audience and Discord know it’s more literal than it seems but Papyrus doesn’t is genius. Discord, as he knows, can literally change the protagonists of the story—but Papyrus doesn’t know that, and so isn’t distracted by its implications, and so takes the intended personal lesson from it. And now we get to see him reflect upon how his actions would impact other characters were they the protagonists, which is metaphorical to him, but not to us, and so it has increased weight in our eyes.

The meta elements of this story are genuinely some of the best and most well-utilized I’ve seen in this fandom, and you have a thousand compliments from me for them.

Papyrus is also rapidly becoming my favorite viewpoint character, so my additional compliments for that—and my thanks to Discord for promoting him.