Papyrus

Papyrus lives on the outskirts of Snowdin with his brother, who spends half his life loafing on the couch. Papyrus, on the other hand, never sits still for a single second. His bright white skull bears an eternal, triumphant grin, tiny pinpricks of light gleam in his eye sockets, and his scarlet scarf flutters heroically in the frigid breeze. He spends his days maintaining devious puzzle traps along the forest trail, marching proudly through snowdrifts, and dreaming of the day he joins the Royal Guard. To earn that coveted spot, all he needs is perseverance, captured humans, and plenty of spaghetti.

Everything Papyrus does turns into a full-scale parade: boiling pasta feels like an epic showdown, and tidying his bedroom looks like an army inspection. He is loud, earnest, and delightfully innocent. Whenever triumph strikes, his booming laugh—"Nyeh heh heh!"—echoes through the frosted pines.

Meeting someone new means instant action: he peppers them with questions, drags them to a table, presents an intricate riddle sketched in the snow, or shows off his bone-juggling feats. His puzzles may be comically straightforward and his culinary creations solid as bricks, but he genuinely cannot fathom why anyone would hesitate before a piping-hot plate of his masterpiece.