#Wingdings is practically gone it's all Gaster now

[forgettable-au]

Here’s a question, if Papyrus where to be refused to all of Wing Ding’s fragments and retain his memories (despite how impossible it would be), would he be Wing Ding with all of Papyrus’s memories, or Papyrus with all of Wing Ding’s

Aka if Steven Universe/Dragon Ball fused would it be Pap or WG?

He would remain more Papyrus :] !!

Papyrus with Wingdings memories

Papyrus is someone who we could say is a natural progression towards something better

With a desire to better himself and also one of helping others better themselves

Of course he struggles and has a long way to go in lots of areas, but he's not giving up on himself or anyone else

It would be weird to make a character like that reverse to an old identity, someone who just ended up destroying himself (both metaphorically and physically)

So he would definitely stay Papyrus

[smells-like-mettaton]

“The waver in a persons voice when they’re stressed” with gaster?

the next life

Rating: T Word Count: 768 Read on AO3: here

XXX

Metal bent and buckled, rivets popping from the pressure, polyurethane gloves melting to the cloth gloves melting to his hands. Marrow boiling in his bones, thoughts evaporating like every last trace of humidity in the parched air.

Wrong. Everything had gone so, so wrong. This was supposed to be routine maintenance. No magma flares had been predicted for the next seventy-two hours. His calculations were never wrong.

He was never wrong, and if he was, it couldn’t be now—not with his brother huddled in the maintenance pod beside him, his sockets dark with terror.

“✋︎—I ☟︎AV☜︎ ☜︎VE☼︎Y❄︎☟︎✋︎☠︎☝︎ UN👎︎☜︎R 👍︎⚐︎NTR⚐︎☹︎,” he said, his cipher flickering in and out. Sans would never believe such a trembling lie.

If Wingdings didn’t do something soon, it wouldn’t matter. Skeletons could survive extreme temperatures, but with enough time heat could crack their bones. Then they’d be nothing but charred dust embedded in the pod’s melting hull.

“Dings, I…” Sans gasped out.

Wingdings flipped switches and turned dials, trying to vent heat, engage the backup coolant containers. Warnings blared and blared, loud as Sans’s drunk voice on karaoke night. 

“Dings.” Sans grasped the sleeve of his lab coat, which was starting to smoke. “Please.”

Wingdings tugged his arm free. He couldn’t afford to be distracted now. He had to work harder, faster, he had to save them—

“Papyrus.”

Wingdings flinched at his childhood name. He’d discarded that font long ago, replacing it with others that would be taken more seriously. Aster for straightforward communication; Wingdings to protect his work from nosy journalists. The mystery of the dingbat accent added a certain flair to his reputation, too.

Of course, none of that mattered now. On the other side of the pod, red-hot magma began to seep through the pod’s cracks.

“We’re not getting out of here.” Sans’s voice was resigned. His bones rattled gently, barely audible over all the klaxons. “Can you finally take a break for two seconds to look me in the eyes?”

Wingdings didn’t want to. That would be as good as admitting he’d failed. That his life’s work ended in a fiery grave, where no one could even give them a proper funeral. Without his constant adjustments, the CORE would overload New Home’s power grid. It would be back to the darkness for the rest of monsterkind. All those people who’d counted on him…

“You’ve done everything you can,” Sans said. “You’ve done everything for everyone else, except for—”

Except for me, Sans didn’t say. 

If there had been any water left in him, Wingdings would’ve cried.

“I’M SORRY,” he murmured, gripping his brother’s hand. The melted rubber oozed between their metacarpals. 

“I know.”

Magma inched closer, yet closer. The heat baked the periosteum of his skull.

“I SHOULD NEVER HAVE BROUGHT YOU WITH ME.”

“What, and crawl through all those narrow maintenance pipes yourself?”

Wingdings shook his head. It wasn’t the time for his brother’s terrible jokes. 

There would never be a time again.

“‘Sides, it’s a bit late to get cold feet.”

Wingdings snorted in spite of himself. The magma reached the tip of Sans’s slippers, catching them aflame.

“Ah. Toasty.” Sans forced a grin.

Sans was trying to comfort him. Despite everything, his brother was still trying to make things a little brighter. 

Wingdings’ ribcage felt like it was cracking.

“SANS, I—”

The pod shuddered. The control panel sparked, circuits sizzling and smoking. 

“It’s ok.” Sans squeezed his hand. “I’ll see ya in the next life, alright?”

“THE NEXT LIFE,” Wingdings murmured, eyesockets widening. 

He’d done studies into other lives. Other realities. Universes where the Barrier didn’t exist, or where they’d never been trapped in the first place—but any practical experiments would have taken far too much power. More power than he’d even been able to harness with the CORE.

But maybe, with the raw heat energy surrounding them—

He reached back for the controls, tugging Sans’s rubber-fused hand with him.

“H-hey, I thought we were having a moment.” Sans’s shorts were on fire; he tried to pat out the flames with his free hand.

“WE ARE. AND WE WILL HAVE MANY MORE MOMENTS YET!”

Mental calculations complete, Wingdings opened the fuel hatches and punched the throttle. Explosions shook him to his core (oh, Sans would have loved that pun) as gasoline hit magma and combusted. And with that power—

They punched through into the dark.

XXX

“There’s two of ‘em… brothers, I think. They just showed up one day and… asserted themselves.

“This town has gotten a lot more interesting since then.”

[napstamuse]

My thoughts on Deltarune, what it is, and what it means for the UnderRune world

Alright so this is the condensed version of a much wordier theory I was working on. For all intents and purposes, this is part four of Goner Theory, just.. Under a different name, I guess? I’ll probably think of one later. Also, even after trimming, this post is still quite long. You have been warned.

Anyway, there are a couple of recurring things that are within Deltarune just under the surface that are very interesting and make me more excited for the continuation than I already was! Without further ado, let’s dive right in.

So when I first played Deltarune, I was slightly disappointed with just how absent Gaster was considering the fact that he more or less promoted the demo through Twitter. 

But after some digging, I was so very, very far from wrong. First of all, his motif is everywhere in the music. This includes, but is not necessarily limited to:

ANOTHER HIM (this one is very clear, probably the most obvious one)

Scarlet Forest (a little tricky to hear, but definitely there around 1:28)

The Circus (@0:14, the piano backing)

THE WORLD REVOLVING (Honestly like… Everywhere. It’s the backing for practically the entire song.)

THE HOLY (this one is probably the biggest stretch. Right around 0:30, the bells sound like his motif to me - but this could just be the same note pattern.)

Friendship (In the background, starting around 1:44)

(I think of particular interest here is Gaster’s ties to Jevil, but that’s a whole different topic for another post)

As was evidenced by Undertale, Toby very much uses leitmotif to his advantage. If a particular motif is clearly heard in a song, it is not on accident or out of laziness. I think this, combined with how often the “Don’t forget, I’m with you in the dark” motif is heard elsewhere in the soundtrack, poses a clear message - Gaster is here, and is always here, just in the background.

Other evidence of him includes:

When you use your cellphone in the Dark World, it plays the same sound as ENTRY NUMBER 17. 

The weird door in the South part of Hometown is this same sound, but slowed waaaaay down (I think about 700%?)

The track name “ANOTHER HIM” is a clear reference to the track “HIM” from Undertale, otherwise known as Gaster’s Theme.

The messages hidden in the Deltarune website, written in Wingdings and saved as “him.png”. 

Undertale and Deltarune both use a numeric code to identify who is speaking when a textbox is displayed on screen. The type code for the narration in the very beginning, when you’re creating your Vessel, is 666, which is also the typecode for when Gaster speaks in Undertale.

As previously mentioned, he was the one “connecting” to us via Twitter to download the Survey Program.

Anything having to do with the intro sequence as well as the game over screens is named in all caps in the code. Of special note is the sequence where you’re creating your Vessel where objects are named “GONERMAKER”. 

In short, Gaster is very much present. It’s just not quite as clear cut as in Undertale, in terms of the code and events that can happen in the game. So that’s part one.

Part two - Gaster and the Skelebros are Darkners. People have already gone over this in other posts with Sans and I’m very much inclined to agree (I would link some here, but with the Tumblr Purge still in effect I’d like to play it safe). To sum it up:

Darkners don’t turn to dust, they bleed. This is evidenced by some different bits of dialogue (”Buckets of blood!”, “Everybody bleeds, right?”). Sans, if you remember, bleeds when you finally slash him in a genocide run of Undertale.

Darkners can dodge in battle, much like Sans.

Darkners have to be tired out to end the battle, same as Sans.

The fast travel doors within the Dark World are the same as Sans’ bedroom door, complete with weird light. This combined with Sans’ use of “shortcuts” to teleport to different locations in Undertale is a pretty solid connection.

Darkners (especially Lancer and Rouxls) display the same blatant disregard for the laws of physics that Sans and Papyrus do. 

So there’s part two. With those two things in mind, I propose my theory on what, exactly, Deltarune is:

The world of Deltarune is a pocket universe created and maintained by a machine of Gaster’s creation. And the machine holding it all together?

This thing.

The True Lab was previously Gaster’s domain - this much is straight up canon (it is the actual royal lab, and Gaster was previously the royal scientist). I’ve theorized in the past that Gaster was also put to the task of understanding and harnessing the power of the human SOUL, and I still stand by that. And if you look in the center of that machine, that looks an awful lot like the red SOUL. 

So here’s my theorized timeline:

Gaster, within the Alpha/Delta Timeline, is appointed as Royal Scientist within the kingdom of the Darkners. He is set upon the task of investigating the power within human SOULs for one reason or another (I think likely either because humans are outside of the Darkner/Lightner society or because they have SAVE/LOAD powers)

 While investigating, with the help of some assistants, Gaster uncovers the timeline fuckery that is caused by a human SOUL with enough power. This becomes the object of his obsession.

Gaster manages to obtain a red SOUL and keep it preserved so that it won’t break.

He could have gotten this SOUL one of two ways, I think. Either:

He extracted it from a human.

He fabricated it by amassing enough Determination in one place.

I’m not sure which of these two it is, or if it’s something else entirely, but those are my guesses. Either way, he gets a SOUL with the gift of Determination.

Gaster, after thorough study, creates The Machine, unlocking the potential within the SOUL for his own use. He gains access to SAVE/LOAD/RESET powers as well as the incredible magical energy contained within. This will later become the heart of the CORE.

Gaster creates a SAVE within The Machine, a universal “backup” of the surrounding area. The ultimate fallback in case of disaster. 

Gaster continues to study and experiment, eventually making a fatal mistake which culminates in the events described in Goner Theory 1-3. Because of the way he is destroyed, he is unable to reload his SAVE. 

Gaster is caught within The Void, a place completely outside of time and space. This is where he still resides, scattered across all of the many timelines between the two universes.

The Machine is kept intact, and with it, a pocket universe created by Gaster’s SAVE. The world of Deltarune is all contained in that machine, powered by the lone human SOUL trapped within. 

The magic within The Machine proliferates through the Underground, freeing little bits and pieces of the trapped universe. This is what allows the different Goner encounters to happen - the Goners are shadows of the beings trapped within the pocket universe. 

This is where I’d like to note that this timeline is by no means complete and/or set in stone. I am quite certain on the major elements of it (the Deltarune pocket universe, the Machine holding it, etc.) but the details could flex as more information becomes clear.

So now that we have finally established all of this... What is the Deltarune demo?

If you remember, from the Deltarune site before the 24 hour mark was up, it was Gaster talking directly to us.

The site now is even in a different font and speaking style, further supporting this.

That combined with the fact that the program is actually called “SURVEY PROGRAM”, Gaster’s inquisitive nature, and the fact that he directly asked for our responses, I think that the demo is a point of contact.

It is a further opportunity for research, to see what others do when interacting with the universe he has bottled up. Moreover, it’s a point of contact with him previous to his accident. 

And how is he doing this? 

It’s through the Machine, and the red SOUL within. The SOUL and its home are an interface of sorts, and likely Gaster’s prized creation. This is further supported by how the save screen looks previous to beating the game:

It also comes with its own set of messages when copying and erasing the files:

"IT CONFORMED TO THE REFLECTION. 

 "WHAT AN INTERESTING BEHAVIOR.

 "PREPARATIONS ARE COMPLETE." 

 "IT WAS AS IF IT WAS NEVER THERE AT ALL."

"IT RETAINED ITS ORIGINAL SHAPE.”

"THEN IT WAS SPARED."

"VERY INTERESTING."

"THE DIVISION IS COMPLETE."

"IT IS IMMUNE TO ITS OWN IMAGE."

"IT IS BARREN AND CANNOT BE COPIED."

"BUT THERE WAS NOTHING LEFT TO COPY."

"BUT IT WAS ALREADY GONE."

"BUT THERE WAS NOTHING LEFT TO ERASE."

This game is an experiment. And in fact is an experiment we already know about.

That’s right. Deltarune, and our playing of it, is the experiment detailed in ENTRY NUMBER 17. Gaster’s final experiment before his accident. 

And now, one last thing.

I have firmly believed for quite some time that the real Chara, the child who fell and lived with the Dreemurrs, is NOT the same as the Chara who confronts you at the end of a Genocide run. 

The Chara who died to save the Monsters is gone, and has been for quite some time. I believe they are the narrator of Frisk’s adventures through the underground with the exception of the Genocide run.

The Chara we see in the genocide run is not angry nor vengeful, as you might expect from the Chara who sacrificed themselves to save Monsterkind. The Chara we see in the Genocide run is someone entirely different - The demon that comes when you call its name. A soulless, empty husk filled with nothing but distant curiosity for cause and effect, whose emotions are only brought forth through displays of incredible violence and awakened from a sleep between worlds by your actions alone.

...Sounds kinda familiar, doesn’t it?

I think by entering the realm of Deltarune, we inadvertently erased what appears to be the only human inhabitant, replacing their soul with ours. This left us not with Kris, but Kris’ body with an artificial SOUL. Kris, and their SOUL, is nowhere to be found. And looking at the code, I think we can even see where they’ve gone:

And once the vessel gets a will of its own, and rejects us, what are we left with...? 

...I think Deltarune is setting us up for consequences. Sometimes, your actions don’t matter. The act of us participating in this experiment, of being in this world in the first place, has irrevocably brought about disaster.

We have inadvertently participated in the experiment that brought Gaster and his home world to disaster.

And we may well be helpless to stop it.

[gasters-story]

Chapter 35

Word Count: 2,054

"So you just let him do it?" Rocksan asks while staring at her clasped hands. Gaster took a sip of his coffee before answering.

"Is there a problem with that? Should I just let Papyrus stay dead?" Gaster asks back at her. "Sans took at least most responsibility away from me anyways."

Rocksan looked up at him confused. "Most responsibility?" She repeated. As if on cue, Papyrus came into the room with a book. He ran up to Gaster and offered said book to him.

"Can you read to me more?" He asks with an excited tone. Gaster didn't answer at first, glancing at Rocksan since he knew she was watching.

"Don't you have a brother who can?" He responds, earning a frown from the kid.

"But you promised cause I fell asleep at the library…" Papyrus muttered sadly. Gaster let out a sigh.

"I've got a patient, so later." Papyrus blinked at the scientist's answer. He looks over at the bed Rocksan was in.

"Oh!" He looks at Gaster again. "Can I help?" Now he's found something new to be excited about and soon let down for.

"You're a bit too young and small for that." Gaster says. He adds on once Papyrus frowns again. "If you grow and learn enough then maybe."

Papyrus quickly perks up. "Smart I'll grow tall and smart and help you! And help with a lot more things!" The kid was practically bouncing with excitement.

"That's right, I guess." Gaster mutters at first. "Now go get Sans to read to you." With that, Papyrus was already heading off to do so. For a moment after he left, it was silent.

"That was softer than I expected from you." Rocksan says quietly. Gaster looks at her and squints a bit.

"Oh really? You basing that off a first impression? Because if I remember correctly yours wasn't pretty either." Gaster retorts. Rocksan looks away and starts to mutter.

"I just didn't expect it out of you, or any of this." Gaster chuckled quietly and took another sip of his coffee. "I thought before you would use them for the barrier or something… not that I would've wanted that as a mother but…"

"The situation between then and now is different." Gaster starts as he stares into his cup. "They weren't for the same purpose or mistake, so therefore their fate didn't deserve to be that way.

Rocksan went silent as she thought about it. Gaster did the same, not bothering to talk more than he has to. He went to leave only to be stopped again. "Thanks for talking with me, by the way."

Gaster paused for a moment, then shrugged and kept walking. Not much came to mind on what to say on that.

For most days, Sans checked on how Rocksan was healing. She requested to stay even though she didn't have to and Sans thought it was fine since they didn't normally get patients nor anything to work on in the labs. Gaster didn't like her staying longer but just decided to accept it since he normally didn't have to deal with her.

Sadly today wasn't that kind of day. Anton visited this time with Grillby since there was apparently a scheduled hang out between Sans, Papyrus, and Grillby. In the end, that meant Gaster had to deal with Rocksan and Anton planned to bug the royal scientist. A bad turn of events for Gaster.

"Oh great." He muttered as he saw Anton entering the room Rocksan and him were in.

'Yo!' The flame monster wrote as soon as he entered. 'Sans said I could find you here!'

Gaster rubbed his skull a bit as he responded. "I'll have to talk to him later… Why aren't you watching them or something?"

'They can handle themselves!' Anton wraps an arm around Gaster. 'Besides, we dad's weren't invited to this hang out!'

"We?" Gaster repeated, knowing that Rocksan was of course paying attention to them. "You're the only dad here, remember?" Anton just silently laughed.

'Sure thing.' Anton then noticed Rocksan watching for the first time. 'Oh hey!' Things could only get worse from here to Gaster. 'The name is Anton! Hope you don't mind reading!'

"No it's fine." Rocksan said with a shake of her head. "It's nice to meet you. I'm Rocksan." As soon as Anton essentially let go of Gaster, the scientist was making his way out of the room. He wasn't going to stay for this interaction.

Anton would say something but his only way to do that would be to head over to the other and get his attention. He just decided he can do that later and looked at Rocksan.

'So how well do you know Gaster?' Anton asks her first. Rocksan hesitated at first but Anton didn't seem to pay mind to that.

"Kind of a while…" She mutters. "I mostly just see him on the boat rides he takes occasionally since I do that.

'Oh? You're the person? No reason you were gone then!' Anton smiles more than he was doing before. 'Thanks for all your help then! You make traveling around this big place a lot easier you know.' Rocksan was admittedly flattered at the thanks. 'If only we had a similar way to get around Hotland though, to get to the capital and back easier. So far we just got more paths getting built around.'

"Yes. Plus it's hot there, as the name implies." Rocksan adds. "What… what does Gaster specialize in? Do you think he could at least make an attempt at it?"

'I don't know but he is the royal scientist! So I bet he knows quite a bit and could help. He's told me once he's been studying sciences of all different kinds for as long as he can remember!' Anton writes, liking Rocksan's idea. 'I can ask him later.'

"As long as he remembers, huh…" Rocksan repeats quietly. Anton perked up a bit but didn't manage to hear what she said at all.

"All right. Visiting time is over." Gaster says as he re-enters the room. He grabs Anton by the arm, which catches the elemental by surprise. Anton makes his arm change shape a bit and moved to pull away from the other before reforming it to the way it was before.

'But I only just got here!' Anton writes quickly.

"And? I didn't plan on you being here at all really." Gaster crosses his arms.

'Fiiiine. Can I ask you a quick question then?' Anton asks and gets a look from the other like "you just did". 'Do you think you can build something in Hotland so we can easily get around?'

"I'll think about it. Now out." Gaster answers after a slight pause. Anton pouted a bit but starts to head put like told.

'I'll just visit another time.' Anton writes, not knowing if Gaster was looking since he was turned away.

"If I let you." Anton silently laughs and quickly heads out at the other's response. Gaster glances at Rocksan once the flame was gone before moving to head back out as well.

"Wait, please." Rocksan requests, making Gaster do so without a response. "I wish to ask you a question myself. Sans doesn't seem to remember me, as well as Papyrus. What about you? Do you remember your past? Of who you were before this?"

There was a long pause before Gaster decided to answer. "Souls are fragile things, especially when outside of the body. They can be easily tampered with and wiped clean of memories or personality. I would say I lost both. The only key I have of my part is my original name from a database, along with the information that belonged to that name."

"And that is?" Rocksan leaned forward a bit from being intrigued.

"Aster. Aster Wingding." Gaster looked back at her and glared, as if she was asking too much. Rocksan's eyelights shook in their sockets. The other studied her expression for a moment before deciding to leave. He felt the need to quickly get out of the labs so he decided to at least head for Asgore's castle. There was a person he wanted to see that could maybe ease his bones that had recently begun to shake.

"…Should I make some tea?" Was Asgore's first question to Gaster when he arrived, looking clearly troubled. The royal scientist just accepted and found a seat in Asgore's big armchair. Ashore got the tea ready as soon as he could and gave a cup to his friend. "Are you alright?"

Gaster didn't answer for a few moments. He took a sip of the fresh tea after letting it cool down to soothe himself amd think of an answer. "What do you think are the chances of meeting someone from a previous life?" He then began to name percentages and explain, as if reading a datasheet from his head.

"Relax, please." Asgore rests a hand on the others shoulder for comfort. "Did this really happen? Did you meet someone from when you were human?" Gaster didn't exactly like that phrasing but he just pushed past that.

"I only think so. I have to confirm but the look in her eyes said a lot already." Gaster muttered and took another sip of his tea.

"I see…" Asgore says quietly. "I say go for the answers you really wish to know and get them while you can, but make sure to be careful on if you may regret those answers."

Gaster takes the time to think as he lets silence fill the room. A realm of possibilities stood in front of him and an unknown past. He could think of a few to ask but with the only known factors a few others were not really an option for Gaster. Asgore meanwhile just patiently waits for the other to say something.

"I think I just need a breather for now." Gaster mutters. Normally he didn't go to the king or anyone else for personal matters like this but it was a choice recently made on a whim rather than thought, things he normally didn't do.

"I see. I hope I helped in some way." Asgore removed his hand from the other's shoulder. He was beginning to leave when Gaster spoke again.

"And thanks for the tea, too." He looked back to see Gaster rubbing the back of his neck with his hand. Asgore let out a small chuckle.

"Anytime. Let me know if you need some more." Asgore knew that was Gaster's special way of saying thanks for everything. He just left after that by his friend's request.

That left Gaster with his thoughts completely, staring off at the opposite wall. Maybe he should go back through the logs that the scientists from before left behind about him before he asks any questions so he knows he didn't miss anything. The most he got before was a name, age, date of birth, death, and revival. Unless they were trying to isolate most main variables as much as possible, there could be more about him. If not, he guessed Rocksan was the last of possible chances to get answers.

Gaster got up from the chair once his cup was empty. Maybe he'll go for another walk, or perhaps just check the files now rather than later. He definitely wouldn't go to Rocksan first, that was the last step. He just left Asgore's place without telling the king as one would expect from the royal scientist. He thought he should go for the files since it'll take a long while to go through them all and then a walk to think about any new factors. It sounded like a good plan to at least Gaster since it'll take a few days to even do the first part without interruptions from Sans or Papyrus, or both, and breaks. Even if Rocksan left by the time wege was done then she would still be doing her job of boat rides around most of the Underground since she's managed to do something for monsters with that and they would hate to have it not be as organized since she said where they would go if they had no one on board.

His chance shouldn't disappear, his probably overthinking made that clear to him.

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[Index]

[decaffeinatedcatastrope]

i think the readmore works now :D

A snippet / kind of a chapter of Storm the Sorrow?  There’s some bits before this but I wanted to establish their meeting before I posted anything else about these two.  

Gaster is like, 19-21ish here, I think.

warnings:  awkward/accidental flirting, a smart person says stupid things and makes stupid assumptions

This is a prequel to all the cute shit that happens with Red and Sans I’ve been posting.  Just a prequel set like, 800 years in the past or something.  :3c

The two of them met in the Royal Court, although Calibri admits that she really didn’t notice the nervous young skeleton admiring her from the Prince’s side.  It wasn’t until after the Prince became a King and her Queen was married that her and Gaster actually met.  

Gaster wanted to access the Font of Knowledge, and according to Asgore, Calibri had a physical access point to it in her personal quarters.  Gaster was suspicious, of course, since Asgore knew of the young skeleton’s odd...fascination with Lady Calibri.  But she was so...scary.

She was Captain of the Guard, The Royal Judge - hell, her title was the Hand of Judgement!  She was twisted by LV and had a presence that could silence the entire Court simply with her entrance.  

Despite this, she had a gentle voice (she’d never spoken to him before, but still!) and an awful laugh (not to mention, her taste in humor was...unfortunate.) and her bouts of Premonition were...frightening, at best.  

And yet, she was captivating.  Why was he doing this?  Why did he trust Asgore with that stupid piece of information, there was no way it was true, why was he even knocking on her door, it was after moonrise at an ungodly hour of the night, she wasn’t going to--

The door opened, and Lady Calibri loomed over him.  Her eye lights glittered ruby with violence, with Determination, with malice, and--

“Why do you not answer me - ...oh.”  Gaster flinched, but noticed that she seemed to relax when she noticed it was him.  Her razor teeth showed in a soft, if not amused smile.  “...forgive me, i did not mean to startle you.”

Her font was so strange, so...plain, he noticed.  Out of reflex, he began to sign in response.

“speak please.  i know that you can.”

Gaster seemed startled at first, before chuckling nervously.  Right, she was a skeleton.  She could understand him.  He knew this, but still...he wasn’t used to people being able to understand his font.  Immediately, he knew his mouth was going to get him in trouble.

“...Yes I...can.”  He spoke often enough to himself, but his voice cracked with nervousness.  Oh god, his soul felt like it was going to rip from his ribcage. 

Calibri quirked a brow bone at him.  “...are you alright, Archivist?”

He opened his mouth to speak again, but flinched.  Right.  Focus, this is why you’re here.  Don’t get distracted.  “Yes, I...was informed that you may be able to help me with a problem.”

An absolutely wicked smirk broke her face.  “oh ~ and what sort of problem is it, that you come to me at this hour of the night?”

“I want to access the Font of Knowledge.”  He stated flatly.

He frowned in confusion as her whole demeanor shifted.  Her smile faltered before she tensed again and broke into...nervous laughter?  She was so strange.  

“ah, yes well.”  Calibri took a moment to gather herself back up and put on her business face.  “And what is your reason for wanting this?”

Gaster winced at her change of tone.  Did he do something wrong?  “I...I was hoping accessing the Font here would allow me to learn easier access on my own later.  As I am the Archivist now, I only wish to further our knowledge, in hopes to help my King and Queen.  Maybe better the relations with our human neighbors?”  

She gave him a hard stare, those ruby embers burning into his very soul.  After a moment though, her look softened and she stepped aside.  “You speak truthfully.  i welcome you.”  

Gaster stood there for a moment, unsure about what’d just happened.  Had...had she just judged him?  Stars above, that was the single most terrifying experience he’d had, knowing that with just a look she could see everything, everything he was and everything he’d done.  Perhaps even things that he would do, eventually.  The thought horrified him.

“Archivist?”

“P-Please, call me WingDings.”  He replied, quickly walking past her into the room.  It was, as she was, extravagant.  

She snorted, then giggled.  He frowned.  

“Really??  Must you laugh?”  He chided her.

“i’m sorry, i know that’s terribly rude.  i just can’t help it, it’s such a silly font.”

“It is not silly, it’s rare.  Prestigious.”

At that, she laughed loudly.  Obnoxiously.  “’prestigious’”-snort-

“Do you have access to the Font of Knowledge, or is this a waste of time??”  Gaster snapped grumpily.  He couldn’t help that his font was strange!  If anything, Calibri’s was worse, it was so plain and she couldn’t even bother speaking in proper script half the time!!  The nerve!

“i’m sorry~”  She wheezed.  

“Really.  Because it does not look like it.”

She snorted again, trying to regain her composure.  “well, you’ve certainly gotten brave, for someone that was so terrified of me mere moments ago, Archivist.”

He opened his mouth to retort when he realized he’d been talking back to the Captain of the Guard and the Hand of Judgement.  He let out an embarrassing noise.  “Oh stars - I - You - I’m ashamed, Lady Cali--”

“Do not apologize.”  She ordered.

He went silent.  She cleared her non-existent throat and gave him a smile.

“...Do not apologize for acting true to yourself around me.”  She said, looking at something else in the room.  “never apologize for that.  we are not in the Court now, and i so despise the masks everyone wears around me.  they hope i will not see through them.”  She spoke, walking over to a potted plant and petting the leaves slightly.  “i do, and it is an ugly thing, to hide yourself like that.”

Gaster didn’t quite know how to respond to her speech, and out of reflex began silently signing before he caught himself.  She wasn’t even looking at him.  “...I...uh.”

“you wish to see the Font, correct?”

“Y-Yes, very much so.”

“...well, in return for my allowing you access, you will not hide yourself here, around me.”

“What?”

“please, it is all i ask.”

“I...of course.  Yes.  I can do that.  Well, I’ll try.”

She smiled slightly, looking back at him.  “yes, i understand that it’s a difficult habit to break.”

“Yes...”  Feeling the nagging need to speak his mind, he let go and let his mouth free for a moment.  “You know, you are nothing like I thought you were.  The only payment you ask of me is that I don’t hide who I am, for something as precious as access to the Font??  I thought you would be different.”

“...it is an ugly thing, the mask we wear for others.  yes?”

Gaster opened his mouth, before his sockets widened.  Oh.  She was also talking about herself.  She...really wasn’t all that different from everyone else, was she?  The stories made her sound so different, putting her on a pedestal of power and glory.

“You’re lonely.”  He blurted out, and he clapped his hand over his mouth.  He saw her wince slightly.

She chuckled.  “...you are perceptive.”  She started.  She was going to say more, but his damn mouth started up again.

“Is that why you were flirting with me?”

She faltered again, and an absolutely brilliant scarlet lit up her cheekbones.  “...Well, I...did not think you had noticed.  You didn’t exactly take--”

“I am after knowledge, not affection.”

She gave him a look.  He winced a little and looked away.  

She sighed.  “Right, well.  It’s this way.  Follow.”

“...I’m sorry.  You wanted me to be true to myself.  Well, this is me, with my brilliant mind and stupid mouth.”  He winced again.  Goddamn it.  

She snorted.  “...well, you are not wrong.”

Gaster relaxed a little at that.  She didn’t seem terribly angry at him, at least.  “...There is something I don’t understand.  You have the company of the entire Court.  The King and Queen are just down the hall.  You have permission to go anywhere in the palace, and further if you wished.  How are you lonely?”

She gave him a look again.  He must have said something stupid again.  “Don’t answer that.”

She snorted again.  “maybe you’ll find the answer in the Font.”  She replied a little more sharply than intended.  She halted at the precipice of another room, letting him enter first. “It’s through here.”

Without hesitation, he entered the room and then immediately came to a halt.  “...Uh.  This is...your bed chamber.”

Calibri peeked into the room, a slightly amused smile on her face.  “Yes, the wellspring is strongest within the circle there, around the bed.”  She pointed, and he got a good glimpse of the sharpened phalanges she called fingers.

“Your bed.”

“Yes, that is what I said.”  

He was quiet all of two seconds as his soul screamed at him to run.  “I’ve decided that maybe I won’t need it--”

“For the uninitiated, access to the Font is easiest in slumber.  I have reports to complete, and will not bother you.”

“Lady Calibri, I will not - I can’t--”

“I do not tolerate cowards, Archivist.”

“I am not a coward, I just don’t think it’s appropriate to--”

“it’s just a bed, are you frightened it’s going to bite you?”

“No, I’m not--”  He caught sight of that wicked smile again, those razor teeth glinting in the candle light.  Oh.  She was teasing him again.  “Stop that.”

“stop what?”  Her grin widened.

“...That.  What you’re doing right now.”

“and what would that be?”

“The - The teasing, flirting thing!”

“i am simply smiling at you, Archivist.”

“That’s not a virtuous smile.”

“i am not a virtuous monster.”

“Not with that Level of Violence, no.”

Her whole demeanor changed in an instant.  Her smile flickered away as if she’d been struck.  Gaster’s sockets widened when he realized what his stupid mouth had done.  “Wait, I didn’t--”

“No.”  Her voice was...calm, but he could feel the pressure of it strike his soul.  He’d made her angry.  

“...No, you are correct.”  She replied quietly.  It was as if she’d realized what she’d been doing, was holding herself back again.  She was practically whispering.  “I’m sorry.  I won’t bother you.”

“W-wait, I didn’t--”

She was gone.  The door to the chamber didn’t quite click shut, as if to give him peace of mind that he could leave if he wanted.  

The room felt...cold, and he stared at the door in confusion.  Everything about her confused him, he’d felt that angry pressure on his soul, yet she’d been calm.  She had every right to be cross with him for his stupid words, yet she apologized to him.

He frowned.  Asgore had always told him that he was terrible at reading people.  For all his knowledge, people were a mystery to him.  Calibri was a mystery to him.  He wanted to know more, like why she was lonely?  Why she insisted he be himself around her and yet, she felt the need to hide herself from him.

“What a hypocrite.”  His mouth answered, and he winced.  “Why do I always do this?  I’m an idiot.”  

He waited a moment to see if she would respond, but was met with only silence.  He really had to stop talking to himself.  Sighing, he took in the room.  The chamber was simply decorated, not at all like the extravagance of the main chamber.  The floor was stone, and there was a...tree?  A tree growing out of the stone floor.  Right, yes, the Judge’s chambers were in the tower that rested on the mountain side.  Connected to it.  

Still, why would she let the stone floor degrade enough to let an entire tree grow into the room?  Surely the leaves were a nuisance.  Ignoring the tree, he noticed the candles littering the room.  Leaving lit candles everywhere, really--

Oh, they were probably lit with magic.  The King and Queen were well versed in fire magic, after all, lighting some candles for their favorite Judge wouldn’t be too hard.  At least that meant they were safe.  Stepping towards the bed, he notice the faint hum of magic, starting at his toes and sending his soul thrumming.  That was the circle she’d indicated, the runes more ancient than history remembered.  

But the Font remembered.  Stars, what he wouldn’t give for that knowledge.  When he’d been chosen as Archivist for his infallible memory, he’d been over the moon in excitement.  Access to the Royal archives?  All that history??  And now, the Font...it was right there.  It was right there.  He could hear it calling to him, and he wanted so badly to step forward.

But something kept him rooted in that spot.  Maybe it was the fact that this was Calibri’s bed.  This was personal.  She sleeps here, he thought to himself, in the Font.  Every night.  Well...he glanced to the door, where the light of more candles flickered silently.  Most nights.  Maybe...

He was no stranger to what knowledge did, and had spent many a sleepless night awake, making plans, designing grand ideas.  And he couldn’t help but wonder...what knowledge keeps one like Calibri up at night?

He knew she wasn’t ‘doing reports’, because her desk was in here.  He could see her notes.  And oh how he wanted to read them.  But no, that was...that was a horrible invasion of privacy.  He might have the empathy of a rock, but at least he had enough sense not to invade her privacy...any more than he already was.  He hugged himself as the fact that he was in her private bedchamber popped into his head again.  

And as much as he wanted knowledge, he felt...guilty.  “I’m an idiot.”  He repeated with a sigh.  Turning around, he quickly made his way to the door and...cautiously peeked out.  

Calibri was sitting before the fire on the floor, her dress pooling around her like water.  Her armor was scattered around, and she was polishing it.  In the harsh firelight, he could see every scratch and scar on it.  

Even the ones on her.  Although, only the physical ones.  Quickly, his mind brought up a list of things he knew.  He knew that Violence did terrible things to the soul, to a monster’s mind.  He knew that Calibri took on Violence so that her King and Queen did not have to.  So that the rest of the guard could go back to their families with light souls and warm smiles.  And for every level of Violence she surpassed, the easier it became to protect them.

And yet she seemed...alright?  No, she was clearly not alright.  She kept herself isolated, even more so than himself.  He did not know who her family was, or where she came from.  Maybe it was in the archives somewhere?  He didn’t know how long she’d been the Judge, nor did he know the burdens that brought upon her.  

He did not know why she was lonely.  He opened the door a little wider, and it made a noise that, if he had not been right next to it, he would have never noticed.  But Calibri did, and her gaze snapped to him, those eye lights locked onto him with almost impossible precision.  

He felt himself frozen in place, not by magic, but by fear.  She was terrifying.  She was captivating.  She was like the swell of a storm crashing overhead.  He could feel his soul twist in his ribcage.  

And then the moment passed, and she looked away.  Almost ashamed.  

“...That was quick.  You truly must be a prodigy, to have accessed the Font so--”

“I didn’t.”  Gaster cut her off, stepping into the room and shutting the door.  “I didn’t actually...access the Font.”

She gently set down the piece of armor she was polishing.  So very gently, he noticed.  He had no doubt she could easily crush the metal with those hands, if she desired.  Could crush him too.

He frowned.  That...was a thought he’d rather not deal with right now.  Focus.  “I hope you can forgive me for bothering you.  I will...leave if you want me to.”

She didn’t answer.  

“...Lady Calib--”

“was it because of me?”  She asked, so quietly.  

“No, no.”  He answered quickly.  “Please don’t think that.”

She chuckled...rather sadly, actually.  “it’s hard not to.  i was acting... inappropriately.”

“Well, yes, but it’s alright.  I was too.”

“you were being honest.”

“Sometimes, it’s better not to be.  I simply forgot that...you can understand everything I say.  I often talk about others, differently than my hands do.  It’s not always...nice.”  He admitted, his voice going quiet too now.  

He jolted when she laughed.  He didn’t understand, nothing about this was funny.  

“so, you are honest when people are not aware of it.  And i am aware of it when people are not honest.  we are truly different.”

“Yes, but why are you laughing?”

She just laughed again.  

“I don’t understand.”

“maybe you never will.  it does not matter.  why couldn’t you access the font?”

“Because...well, your bed is in the way.”  He stated as if it was the most obvious answer in the world, and she giggled.  Shaking his head, he continued.  “I also felt terrible for upsetting you.”

“ah, it’s...fine.  i honestly forget sometimes just how scary it must be, to talk to me.  alone.”

“...Yes, well--”

“to be faced with the Hand of Judgment.”  When her tone shifted, Gaster made a rather embarrassing noise.  She laughed as his face blushed a brilliant violet.  

As embarrassed as he was, that laugh sounded a bit different than before.  Lighter.  More genuine.  His soul thrummed happily.  

“Yes, yes, you’re terrifying.”  He rolled his eye lights, before boldly scooting a few pieces of armor out of the way with his boot and sitting next to her.  Next to the fireplace.  Which a part of him was worried she was going to toss him in.

She stared at him incredulously, before rescuing her armor from his abuse and huffing.  

“Before you ask, I’m...lonely too.  It’s nice to have someone to speak to.  Like this.”  Gaster replied, and he was correct.  She’d been about to ask what he was doing.  Instead, her expression shifted to one of curiosity, and then she smiled.  

“Also, my room doesn’t have a fireplace.  It’s rather cold, and I--”

“that’s enough honesty for right now.”  

His teeth clicked as he shut his mouth, before he chuckled.  “Me and my stupid mouth will be quiet now.”

She laughed again.  

[askmicrowaveayem]

Boink! The Gaster Brothers Pt. 6

[Previous]

[Archive] [Cast]

Vrinda smiled and nodded, then pat his shoulder before continuing towards the house. “I will think of a set of exercises for you then. For now, rest and get yourself something to eat.”

--

He nodded and hurried inside to join Dings in setting up lunch, feeling a little braver than before.

He wouldn’t let anyone hurt him ever again.

--

After lunch they were let to do what they wanted, Dings deciding to play with some wooden toys outside and then showing Rage his favorite tree to climb.

By then it was time for the evening chores, dinner, lessons, and then bed.

The following day was the same, but when it came to magic lessons Vrinda had Rage sit everything out completely while she exercised with her son. When he was finished, she sent him away.

Dings put up a fuss, but it only took Vrinda to raise her voice and threaten a spanking if he didn’t get his bony little butt back home.

He quickly grabbed his rear and took off.

Rage and his new mother were left alone in the clearing.

--

Rage stood once they were alone, stepping forward to take the place where Dings had been practicing. He touched his bracelet, steadying himself, waiting to be told how to begin.

--

Vrinda would run him through the drills again first and foremost. The basics always needed to be remembered and perfected before you tried anything else. Once that was completed she went onto something different.

“So you want range? To make others keep their distance before they can get too close.”

--

He nodded. “And how to make them get away from me if they are close.”

He remembered the merchant’s hands on his neck and the edge of that cane threatening to ram up inside his skull.

Too close.

Everything was too close.

--

Vrinda nodded and changed positions to be by his side. “Show me the furthest attack you can make from yourself.”

--

He wasn’t entirely sure what to do, but after a moment, held up his arm and summoned a bone at the far side of the clearing. The furthest line of division he could see.

He didn’t know if he’d done it properly, but as soon as the bone summoned, he realized he probably could have gone further--

He didn’t have any concept of his magic’s limits.

As far as his mind was concerned, he could put a bone anywhere.

--

“Good. Run through all your drills holding that distance.” She instructed, then would wait as he did so a few times.

When he finished she praised him again before moving onto the next; “There are many ways an attack summoned in your hand can shape. Blunt, blue, sharp, jagged, small, large. Try to feel deep within yourself and summon an attack that you identify with.”

She summoned her own again; small and dagger-like, pointed and smooth. It would require being dangerously close but would be 100% lethal if stabbed into the right spot.

--

In his hand?

He considered for another long moment, unsure how to find an attack he identified with. That sounded like something he’d have to try lots of different ideas for, not something he could possibly summon on the first try. Still. He’d try.

He wouldn’t be beaten if he messed up. He knew that. He kept telling himself that.

First try.

Identified with--

--there was a shape in him that he could somewhat identify. A way he thought of himself that was big, and lumpy, and grossly formed, as rough as his skull had become over two years of abuse. As calloused as his hands and feet were after spending so long scrubbing out the wagon and running alongside it to lighten the load.

He tried to form that with his magic, in his hand, and closed his eyes until he could feel the weight of it in his palm.

He opened his eyes and frowned in disappoint when he saw what he’d made.

A little concave oval with bumps and indents. It fit snugly in his palm.

It had teeth.

--

Vrinda looked shocked. She drew in closer to him, a hand on his shoulder as she stared down at the strange… bone with teeth.

It was nothing she had ever seen before. Her brow furrowed, but not in disappointment.

“... Rage, what were you thinking when you made that?”

She was curious, not angry.

--

He’d stopped tensing at her touches, just letting her come close, staring down at the the thing as well, eyes flat.

“...it was something Hugh told me,” he said. “There’s a lizard, he said. One that wants to survive so bad, if it’s starving, it’ll eat it’s own tail and regrow it later when it’s got food again.”

He stared down at the ugly thing, turning it over slowly in his hand.

“It was probably just another one of his lies. But that’s what I was thinking about.”

--

“A lie or not, you have created something I didn’t think possible.” Vrinda said, grinning. “I want you to work on what you feel like this should be. Mold it into what you see in your soul. This is your practice today.”

--

His eyes lightened a little. Brightening some. He nodded, holding the thing a little closer and looking up at her once more. “...didn’t think possible?”

--

“Bone attacks can be molded, but they typically always hold the same shape. This is something new. It has teeth. I have never seen a skeleton able to create such a thing.” She sounded proud.

“So nurture it. Let it grow into what you think it should be.”

--

His mouth twitched up a little more in a smile.

Maybe he was a freak or a broken monster, but-- he’d made something new?

All new. Entirely. Without mimicking or studying. He nodded again, looking away before the grin on his face grew any larger, and looked back down at the ugly, toothy bowl in his palm.

He spent the rest of the day trying to coax it into something a little bigger. A little different.

--

Vrinda would leave him after awhile, encouraging him to keep work at it but to not let his little brother know what they were doing and to be sure not to stay out too late and come home before it was time to do his chores.

She would head back, to give Dings his speaking lesson.

--

He came back in a rush, exhausted but able to do his chores, though his pace was more frantic than usual and his eyes constantly drooping. He helped prepare dinner absentmindedly, but recovered more once he’d eaten some food.

--

Dings would make worried noises at him and use some new sounds he had learned to express his concern, eloquently mumbling ‘huh? huh? huh?’ to his other brother and trying to figure out why he was so tired.

Vrinda helped by telling him Rage wanted to practice magic on his own that day, that he wanted to be able to protect him even better next time.

It was close enough to the truth and Dings believed it, enamored even more with his awesome big brother.

They would eat, wash up, and head to bed.

The following day would be the same, although in the morning Vrinda prepared a pot of tea for Rage instead of the usual cider. It had more care put into it than just pouring something to drink and would give him more energy.

Morning chores, then magic practice. Dings was always first before being sent away.

“Show me what you’ve managed so far.” She said once he was gone, sounding eager and excited.

--

He wasn’t sure if what he’d managed was worth that excitement and was almost embarrassed to show her, but he held out his hands anyway--both of them, this time, and concentrated all the same, a snappish yellow magic beginning to form bones in his hands.

This time, it was more recognizable as a skull. The concave bowl had turned into the inside of the skull, its teeth downward and now more completed with a simple bottom jaw. The teeth were more defined, sharper. The snout a little longer.

It was big enough it was easier for him to hold it in two hands.

--

If he felt any shame for how ‘bad’ it might have looked, perhaps it would vanish as Vrinda’s smile grew twice as wide. “A skull! Fantastic, dear. Do you know what kind of skull you are shaping it into?”

--

He shook his head slowly. “Am I supposed to have an idea?”

He didn’t know much about… well, ironically, he didn’t know much about skeletons either, but he especially didn’t know about nonmagical creature’s skeletons. And this skull was much too large to be an animal he’d actually seen--it wasn’t catlike or doggish. Too arched and pointed for that. But he didn’t know if there was a certain direction it was trying to go in or not.

--

“Only if it will help you create it. Remember, pulling it from here-” Vrinda touched his chest right over where his soul would be, “-is what matters the most. Create from the soul, even if it isn’t anything you’ve ever seen before.”

--

He nodded again, letting her touch his chest with only the slightest urge to lean away.

“Should I just keep going every day like this, then?”

--

“Yes, but don’t stress yourself like yesterday. Don’t rush.” She said, patting his shoulder and straightening up. “... Don’t worry the little one.”

--

He stiffened a little at that order and gave a quick nod.

“I won’t. Sorry, ma’am.”

...he wondered how long he’d have to hide his magic from Dings. Was there some certain reason he wasn’t allowed to see?

--

“It’s alright.” Vrinda said, her voice calm and not angry, but stern.

“If this isn’t something I can do, I don’t want Wingdings to think about trying it. He’s a very impressionable young boy and will want to mimick. For now, just keep it hidden.”

Both of his parents seemed more keen to let him on what appeared to be secrets than they did their birth son.

--

He looked down at the skull again and let it dissipate between his fingers, thinking hard.

“...is something wrong, here?”

He’d never asked that before. Never questioned much.

“I just.. I’m sorry if I brought trouble. Things just seem very tense, sometimes?”

--

Vrinda looked surprised at the sudden questions, not answering at first, but soon settling down beside Rage to explain.

“You have brought no trouble to us. Never think that you have.” He touched his hand, “... Treb and I hide a lot from the little one. Things he doesn’t need to know.”

“... He’s too young to question why his mother knows magic and can read. Why we have so many books. Why I teach him how to understand two languages and to write when none of his friends can. Why his father looks the way he does.”

She frowned sadly. “Neither of us want him to question it. He is a sweet little boy who needn’t worry about what his parents have done.”

--

For the first time, Rage felt something a little cold towards Vrinda.

He let her keep touching his hand. Let her talk. But he looked down at the ground, and studied the books he’d been given, and said, “I think you’re too late for that.”

--

Vrinda sighed and removed her hand. “Perhaps.”

“He probably will start asking questions soon. He’s a smart boy.”

She was silent for awhile, “... Treb comes from a similar situation as yourself.”

--

Oh.

Rage nodded once.

“...are they dead?”

--

“No.” She frowned.

--

“Who?” he asked, still not looking at her.

--

Vrinda tensed her mouth. “A group of raiders. A very large group of raiders.”

“... They were his family.”

--

“Are they Gasters, too?” Rage asked, assuming the family name had come from Treb.

He was expressionless, his eyes looking down, but seeing something other than the dirt.

--

“No. Neither of us originally were.”

--

Rage frowned finally.

That would make them much harder to find.

--

Vrinda stayed beside him, not touching him, silent.

She would tell him what he wanted to know, but unless asked, stayed quiet.

--

He asked, “Did they take his jaw?”

--

“No. He lost it fighting for them to someone else, as with everything else on him.” She looked at him, her own face perfect and pristine in comparison. “They didn’t abuse him themselves, but expected him to live a life he wasn’t suited to.”

--

The corner of Rage’s mouth twitched.

He remembered the cane poised to break him apart from the inside, and wondered how much force it took to rip off a jaw.

“Okay,” he said, and asked no more.

--

Vrinda looked at him sadly, suddenly losing the rigidness in her face and looking guilty and remorseful.

She slowly stood and would head back towards the house.

--

He watched her go.

That expression she’d made. Broken up and guilty.

That was his fault.

But he wouldn’t let it hurt him.

He summoned his skull and held it close to his chest.

He wasn’t wrong for what he wanted to do.

--

When he returned back home it was as though nothing had happened. Vrinda was back to her usual self, speaking nothing of what they had talked about. Dings was happy to see his brother and spent some time following him around saying what he could of his name; “Ra! Rrra!”

He tried to get him to play a game with a ball with him before they had to do their chores and wash up for dinner.

--

Rage was happy to continue as if nothing had happened. When he was nervous, he grinned, and when he did anything else, he kept his face flat as usual.

He tried to refuse playing the ball game, claiming he was too tired, but he’d play toss if Dings could actually get it somewhere he could catch.

--

Chores, dinner, a lesson, and then bed.

The next day would start the same as the others. But when it came to the lessons Vrinda would ask something different; “Do you want me to stay or shall I leave you to work alone?”

--

“Alone, please,” he said, tone light. Almost expecting pushback.

Alone.

--

Vrinda didn’t push and would leave him alone.

Unless told otherwise it would be how his lessons were from then on. Rage wasn’t a child, he was a young man who could make his own decisions. Vrinda would be there to keep him clothed, fed, happy, and make sure he could read and write, but she would give him the space he wanted without complaint.

--

Rage had two years of memory in total. Two years that consisted of lies and abuse. Only two years. He was a child of two years with the form and function of someone older, and he was angry.

Two years had taught him nothing of how to control anger. Of how to feel different. Of how to leave the patterns he was trapped in.

And he was angry.

And he had no guidance. No teachers. No one to show him where or how or why.

So he sat in the woods on his own. Forming his skull. Forming his own reasons. How own wheres, and hows, and whys.

And if he survived off anger, then that still meant he was surviving.

--

Weeks turned into months. Their lives were uneventful but peaceful. Dings would learn how to say a couple of words; ‘Rage’, ‘yes’, ‘no’, ‘mom’, ‘dad’, and a few others. His voice was weak and scratchy like his mother’s, but he was very happy to use his new words around his brother as much as he could, even if they didn’t serve any real purpose.

Vrinda would keep up with his lessons, although would only help his magic if requested.

Treb, however, was just sort of a constant presence of calm and stability. He did the same things every day. He would occasionally pat Rage on the shoulder when there was a job well done, or ask him to help with a repair around the farm. He was a skeleton of few words, even using his hands.

One day while Rage was sat outside alone he approached him.

--

Over the months in the house, Rage had picked up Wingdings quickly through consistent study and a lot of effort. He rarely went into town, and used wingdings to understand Dings the most, as a consequence, but when Treb spoke, he listened.

He’d grown used to not having his ‘magic lesson’ in the woods be interrupted, though, so when Treb did suddenly appear, Rage dismissed the skull in his hands and looked up, cautious and unsure of what had prompted this.

--

Treb, like always, didn’t say or sign anything at first. He sat his huge frame beside Rage.

‘Hey kiddo.’

--

‘Hello,’ he signed back still unused to it enough that he tended towards more formal signing than informal.

--

‘You’ve been spending a lot of time out here alone. Are you okay?’ Treb asked, somehow able to look concerned with only his hands and his eyes available to him.

--

He looked up a to focus on Treb’s face a little slowly, signing back. ‘I’m fine.’

And then his vocabulary ran out--at least, his vocabulary to sign with. He could still understand well enough, but...

“...I’m just practicing magic. That’s all,” he said.

He was better than he’d ever been.

He’d never felt so little when calm.

He’d never been able to move so quickly when worried.

--

Treb nodded, ‘I know. Practicing magic is good.’ He looked proud, ‘Vrinda and I are proud of you.’

‘I don’t know any myself, but it looks like you don’t even need Vrinda to help out anymore.’

--

The one thing he really didn’t like about Wingdings was he couldn’t look away or look down when he was talked at, so Treb had to see the full discomfort and embarrassed sort of happiness on his face.

“Yeah, she left a few weeks ago,” he said, mumbling. “...I don’t really know what else to do, now, though.”

--

‘You haven’t asked her to stay and help again?’ Treb signed.

--

He shook his head, shrugging.

--

‘Why not?’

--

“I told her to go. So shouldn’t ask her to come back.”

It was logical.

--

‘There’s nothing wrong with asking for help again if you’re unsure what to do.’ Treb signed, ‘Vrinda is a little sharp around the edges, but she’s a good teacher.’

--

“I just don’t know what to work on next,” he said, not denying Vrinda was a good teacher, but not saying he’d go ask for help.

--

Treb nodded and fell quiet for a few moments. ‘Vrinda won’t say anything, but she feels she upset you somehow.’

He didn’t know how or what had happened, but he knew his wife, and he could read her like a book when no one else could.

--

He stayed quiet for a few moments as well. He remembered that day, the look Vrinda had given him, and he’d just been following her lead with never mentioning it.

“She told me about you, some,” he said.

Didn’t confirm or deny that he he blamed her.

He had been upset.

--

‘Yeah?’ Treb asked, wanting the boy to continue. He didn’t seem upset she did. He wasn’t ashamed of his past.

--

“What happened to your jaw?”

He wished he didn’t have to look at Treb to listen to him.

--

‘The last city my group tried to raze was the one Vrinda was in. One of the guards managed to get their halberd right here-’ He stopped to point at a long, old cut that trailed up from his teeth towards the side of his head. ‘When they angled it down, it caught into my jaw, and tore it off.’

--

He watched Treb move his finger and touch the side of his face.

His own hands twitched up to his face, clutching the areas as a sudden sensation wracked him--a ghost of violence on that same part of his face joining the phantom presence of the cane at the opening under his jaw.

He cringed, squeezing his eyes shut for a moment and willing the feelings away.

Hated how much he moved, didn’t mean to, fuck.

--

Treb gave him a moment, waiting until his eyes were open again. ‘Vrinda is a terrible healer, but she did what she could. Not even the best healers can bring it back.’

He tried to smile, his eyes holding most of his emotion as always. ‘She taught me how to sign instead. So everything worked out in the end.’

--

He nodded shakily, slowly pulling his hands down and grimacing a bit as he tried to pick out words.

“...do you hate them..?”

--

‘The guard who took my jaw?’

--

“The ones who made you fight,” he said, voice cold.

--

Treb thought about that for a moment.

… ‘In a way.’ He took a moment before elaborating. ‘I hate the things I’ve done for them because I thought it was normal. But… I’m tired.’ The skeleton laughed, the sound like an airy wheeze. ‘Tired and old. A lot of my anger has long since burnt out.’

--

He thought it was normal.

He’d thought it was normal.

“I’ll do it for you, if you want,” Rage said, eyes down so he wouldn’t have to look at Treb’s face.

Hands only.

“I can do it.”

--

Treb looked at him. After a moment one hand reached over, firmly wrapping around his shoulders and giving him a firm squeeze. ‘No. Living this life, alive and happy with a family, is my revenge.’

‘They will never know the joy that I have for themselves.’

--

What kind of revenge was that? That wasn’t revenge.

That was hiding. Hiding in peace, but still hiding.

Rage knew what revenge looked like. Knew what it felt like. Revenge was a wooden cane in hand and an ache in his arms from swinging it down. Revenge was looking down at the ground he’d been beaten into and knowing they would never get to look down on him like that again. Revenge was taking the objects of terror--the wagon, the cane, the rune--and stealing away with them. Burning the woodchips for their fires. Melting down the rings. Pouring the ink into rivers and watching it all wash away.

His jaw creaked from the force of his teeth clenching.

He nodded and signed, ‘okay.’

--

Treb knew that look well.

He gave Rage’s shoulder another squeeze, trying to bring him back from the thoughts swirling in his head, and offered him a flask from his pocket filled with strong drink.

‘You and Vrinda are a lot alike.’

--

He took the drink and chugged, not hesitating or wincing at all at the strength of it.

He gave Treb a questioning look.

--

Treb smiled as best he could. ‘What’s that look for?’

--

‘What does that mean?’ he asked, not angrily, but not understanding at all.

--

‘You both have a very intense desire for revenge, even if it isn’t revenge for yourself.’ Treb said, still smiling. ‘Although she calls it justice.’

--

“It’s not justice,” he said, “It’s what they deserve.”

--

He was still smiling, ‘There are a lot of different ways to say it.’

Treb moved to stand, patting Rage’s shoulder one more time.

--

Rage let him go, letting his shoulder be patted and remaining sitting.

After a few more minutes, he stood to go outside. Practice his magic. Clear his head.

--

The day would pass by uneventfully after that. The routine would resume. Magic practice, chores, dinner, lessons, and bed.

In the dead of night there was a loud thud from a few rooms over. Dings stirred slightly, eye sockets creaking open to peer around at what might be going on.

--

Rage sat up, unsure if he’d actually heard a sound when he saw Dings moving.

Quietly, he crawled out of bed, motioning for Dings to stay while he went to peer out the door of their bedroom.

--

Dings looked scared, but nodded and stayed where he was, pulling the blankets and little higher around his chin.

The noises were coming from his parent’s bedroom. There was another loud slam.

--

Now alarmed, Rage closed the door behind him, not about to leave Dings exposed to whatever was going on, and hurried to their parents’ room, throwing open their door.

--

The room was dark, but three extra figures could be made out of the blackness wearing dark robes hiding their faces.

Two were trying to subdue Treb, the large skeleton fighting against one’s magic while another tried to pin him down and wrestle a thin, sharp bone into his chest where his soul would be. Another had their arms wrapped around Vrinda as she kicked in the air, planted her feet, and slammed her attacker into the wall behind her while they tried to do much the same as the other; a sharp implement poised to try and stab into her soul.

--

Rage was rooted to the spot, eyes wide and breathing becoming ragged.

His first instinct wasn’t to help.

It was to keep himself safe.

To not be hurt.

Run. Be a good boy. Go cower and cover your head and beg for it all to be okay.

He summoned his skull, instead.

It was too big to be in his hands, now. He cradled it against his chest with both arms, aiming with shaky and uneven movements.

The flash lit up the whole darkness of the room, and a yellow bolt of magic raced towards the intruder trying to stab Trebuchet.

--

The intruder was blasted against the wall, singed and startled. The one holding him down with magic looked equally taken off guard and switched their magic to Rage, grabbing him and turning him green.

Vrinda managed to throw her own attacker over her shoulder, climbing ontop of them and summoning her own small, pinprick bone. They struggled together, her arms shaking as she tried to force against the other’s hands and push it into their chest.

--

Rage grit his teeth and tried to not panic when he felt his soul taken ahold of. He hoped the intruder could only turn one person green at a time, but if not--he wasn’t going to make himself easy to hold.

Not again.

There wasn’t a hand on his neck. There was no one holding him down.

He tried to fire off another bolt of magic at them.

--

They still weren’t prepared for it despite seeing what it had done before, stumbling back from the blast and letting their magic go from Rage.

Treb scrambled to the bed, yanking something from underneath it. He swung an axe nearly as large as Rage’s torso into the figure who had been holding them down.

They were decapitated in an instant.

The other fighting Vrinda gurgled, their soul alight and glowing yellow as she held it firmly and plunged her attack deep inside of it.

The third tried to scramble back to the window they had climbed through.

--

Rage watched them scramble, frightened, trying to get away--

He sent a third blast towards them, aim just a little off, and instead hitting the wall just in front of the remaining intruder.

--

It was just enough to make them stumble back. Just enough to stall them enough for Vrinda to get to her feet.

They started to climb out the window.

Vrinda raced forward, stabbing their hand on the ledge.

They cried out.

She yanked them back inside, tossing them onto the floor.

--

Three blasts had been a lot. Rage was shaky on his feet and leaned back against the wall, still clutching his skull tightly, watching Vrinda throw them down.

He knew what it was like to hit the floor like that.

To try and scrambled up and plead.

He watched, breathing hard and eyes flat while the dust began to settle around the room.

--

Perhaps Rage would see something familiar in Vrinda’s face as she held the figure down, as they tried to fight her off.

No mercy.

Give them what they deserved.

Serve them justice.

Get revenge on him for breaking into her home and threatening her livelihood.

Their soul was grabbed with practiced ease, pulling it out when their hands slipped away from her’s.

The small, sharp bone plunged into their soul.

[gasterimagines]

Also with the angst how do the Gaster's react to their S/O being murdered and them being unable to save them.

Undertale - He blames himself- It doesn’t matter where he was when it happened, or if he had any possible chance of saving you- It’s 100% his fault and no one could convince him otherwise- He goes quiet- It’s like he can’t muster the energy to speak- He doesn’t smile or laugh, the sparkle is gone from his eyes- He used to be so passionate about everything- His work, his friends, hobbies, nature, kittens, art, music, you-- All that excitement and energy is gone- Nobody can get more than a sigh out of him- When forced to communicate, he signs in Wingdings or ASL- Shockingly, he doesn’t cry for weeks- Not when he found out, not at the funeral, not when he went home alone- It was only when he finally gathered up your things that he found something- It was one of his own sweaters, but he’d given it to you since you liked the color and that it smelled like him- But the more you wore it, the more your own scent covered his- This is the first thing he notices when picking it up- And this is when he breaksUnderfell - It’s very, very tempting to go on a murder spree and kill everything in sight- The only thing that stops him is the thought that you wouldn’t want that- He repeats this like a mantra every time he’s about to do something stupid- They wouldn’t want that, they wanted me to be a good person, I need to do it for them-- Sometimes he wonders why he bothers- He did try to improve…when you were alive- But you’re dead- Somebody killed the only person who’s ever loved him, they’re dead, so what’s the point of being good?- What’s the point of anything?- He’d cut back on drinking and quit opioids entirely at your request, but now- Now it doesn’t matter how much he poisons himself- While he would never consider trying to join you, seeing as he’s much too stubborn to give into his grief…- There’s a good chance he’ll never wake up if he keeps knocking himself out with drugs- He’s well aware of this- Maybe he’s not so stubborn anymore- He’s too tired- Exhausted, really- The fury that fueled him after your death has faded into apathy- He just wants to sleep, and by any means necessaryUnderswap - He disappears- It’s very likely that no one alive right now will ever see him again- Maybe he’ll feel ready to rejoin society in a few centuries- For now, he needs some alone time- You’re not the first of his lovers to die- In almost a thousand years of life, he’s lost far too many partners to tragic circumstances- Most passed from old age, sickness, or injury- But never has one been murdered- All the losses have been painful, yet something about this one aches like nothing he’s ever felt before- It’s the thought that he could have saved you, had he only been paying closer attention- The others’ deaths had been inevitable- Humans have such unfortunately short life spans- He knew you’d have to leave him eventually- He’d just wished it wouldn’t be so soon- No one sees him at the funeral your friends and/or family holds- They find it so distasteful, to think that your own partner wouldn’t come- He’s there, alright- Safely out of sight, where no one can see him cry- He holds a silent vigil by your tombstone once everyone else has left- It lasts for countless days and nights before he finally tears himself away and heads for who knows whereOutertale - After receiving the news from Asgore, he breaks down right then and there- Sobbing, falling to his knees, heaving, hyperventilating- it hits him like a freight train- The king does his best to console him, but knows it won’t have any effect-  Shortly after this is when he turns to denial- No one is allowed to mention the incident in his presence (not like they would anyway, it’d be terribly callous)- Anyone who refers to you in the past tense- “They were always so nice…”- is either screamed at or made very uncomfortable when Gaster immediately starts to cry- He has no idea how to handle this- His parents died when he was too young to remember, and the only loss he’s experienced since was a goldfish or two- When his prior partners have left, they left of their own accord- Never like this- It’s not fair- You were the only one who stayed, you were supposed to stay forever- Once he’s worked through some of the distress, he channels those feelings into finding the person who killed you- He hires hackers, trackers, private investigators, and practically bribes the local police to join in the chase- Money is not an issue- The criminal is eventually caught and sentenced to life in prison- And Gaster still doesn’t hurt any less

Mertale - He has no idea what happened- It’s not like anyone came to break the news, you’re the only person he has any contact with- The murder was reported in the local paper, but it’s not as if Gaster can leave the ocean and go buy a copy- All he knows is that you haven’t come to visit him in a few days- Did he do something wrong? Are you upset, or just busy?- Part of him seems to sense that the truth is much, much worse- From any distance, there’s a thin tether between your souls- This magical bond lets each of you know when the other is feeling strong emotions- Some time last week, he felt waves of fear coming from your end- He felt so helpless, being trapped where he couldn’t protect you- The distress signals continued for what felt like hours, but could have only been a few minutes- And then, there was nothing- But he refuses to believe something has happened- No, that would be far too terrible- So he ignores that teensy part of his mind that knows you’re dead in danger, adamantly pushing the thought away- Every day for the rest of his life, he follows the same schedule- Wake up, catch some breakfast, wander until the time you’re usually let off from work, and head for the shallows by your regular meeting spot- And there he waits for you to come back

[decaffeinatedcatastrope]

Another snippet of Storm the Sorrow, the prequel :D  In this one Gaster tries eating human food for the first time.  If the readmore doesn’t work, please use this backup post.

warnings:  bad attempts at flirting, book assault, skeleton malfunctions, naked teasing, potential mentions of poly shenanigans, non-consensual chest oggling, gaster’s stupid genius mouth.

<...I...need advice >  Gaster admitted silently, his hands wringing as the ethereal versions he could manifest did the signing for him.

Asgore looked up from his tea and paperwork in surprise.  He smiled and gestured to the chair next to him.  “Of course, my friend, sit.”

< I thought you would tease me for needing advice >  Gaster signed, quirking a brow bone at his King as he took the offered seat.

Asgore chuckled and shook his head.  “You know I would not tease you for needing something of me.  My door is always open.”  He quickly moved to get his tea kettle, but stopped at the sound of Gaster’s voice.  

Once he had Asgore’s attention again, he politely declined the tea.  < Perhaps later I must get back to work I just wanted to ask something > The manifested hands were a flurry behind him, while he continued to nervously wring his own hands.  Where did one begin on this subject?  He felt his soul fluttering as he thought about it.

“Is everything alright?  You normally never take a break from your work like this.”  Asgore gave him a warm smile.  “Please, tell me what troubles you.”

After a moment, Gaster let out a short breath, and his own hands began signing.  < Is it appropriate to court someone higher in the Court than you? >

Asgore stared at his hands for another moment, before his booming laugh filled the room.  He tried to regain his composure as he heard Gaster’s strange voice scolding him.  “Forgive me, but who exactly is it that you have taken a fancy to?”  

Gaster frowned and looked away, before getting to his feet.  

Asgore’s smile fell.  “Wait, wait, do not leave.  Please, I’m sorry for laughing.  It’s just...there haven’t been rules against that sort of thing in place since my grandfather’s reign.  You can court anyone you wish to, as long as it is mutual, of course.”

Gaster looked confused.  < I was looking in the Library and found a guide > He started, before hesitating.  < Is it wrong? >

“A book in the library?  It is likely.  Many of them are out of date.  I can have an order to have those removed--”  A sound interrupted him, and Asgore looked up to see Gaster shaking his head and frantically signing.  

< Do I have permission to amend them? >

“...WingDings, it would take ages to amend every wrong book.”

Gaster gave him a deadpan stare.  Right, the Library was the Archivist’s domain, Asgore remembered.  “Fine, yes you may amend them.  However, only with permission, I cannot have you going and altering anything historically important, no matter how wrong it is.”

Gaster made a soft noise.  < I will get to work >

“No no, you haven’t even told me who it was you’ve taken to so.”  Asgore smiled.  “Please sit again.”

Gaster stared at him again, the faintest of violet tinting his cheekbones.  He refused to sit.  

“It wouldn’t be Lady Calibri, would it?”  

Gaster made a strangled noise and covered his face.  Asgore let out a jovial laugh.  “I knew you two would get along!  You do not need my permission to court her, WingDings.”

Question answered, Gaster waved his hands dismissively and fled from the room as Asgore laughed again.  

The nerve!  Gaster thought to himself.  King or not, to laugh at him - no, he was not good at this sort of...feelings thing!  That was no excuse to laugh.  Pulling the book in question out of his pocket, he chucked it out the nearest window in a fit of anger.   ----- “And what will we not do again?”  Calibri asked, dangling a small monster in the air by their tail.  This was not what she was qualified for.  She was a warrior, Captain of the Royal Guard and a master of Judgment, and here she was scolding children, for tormenting her new recruits.  

Thankfully, children seemed to be immune to the vicious chill in her voice.  Shame her recruits weren’t.  The child giggled at her.  Giggled.  At Her.  “Answer me.”

“I promise not to steal boots from the guard’s quarters again.”

She narrowed her sockets at them, but was otherwise satisfied with the answer, even though she knew they’d do it again.  Her attention snapped to the new recruits.  “And you, what will you not do again??”

The whole lot of them stumbled over themselves in terror.  They couldn’t tell if she was talking to one of them or all of them.

She pinched her nasal bone in annoyance and gently set the child down on the ground.  “Shoo.”

The child giggled and ran off, so now all her attention was on her recruits.  She approached them, and was sure they could hear the thundering roar of her soul.  She was not happy.  “I asked a question of you.  You will answer me.”

“W-which--” “I don’t--” “Oh stars don’t--”

“Oh for Asgore’s sake -” She mumbled.  “Remember to LOCK the stars damned barracks, you imbeci--”  THUNK  “ngh!?”

No one moved for a breath or two, as Calibri’s attention was drawn to whatever had just socked her in the skull and then tumbled to the ground.  It was a...book?  Curiously, she turned to see if that child had the enough bravery to attempt such a stupid thing as striking her with something, but they were gone.  

“M--m’am, it uh.  It fell from the palace.”  One of the guards mumbled.  

Calibri hummed and stooped to pick up the book.  Books were practically Gaster’s favorite things, how dare someone abuse one so.  And it was a book on...courtship?  She snorted.  Perhaps someone was having romantic troubles.  Regardless, she’d return it to Gaster, since she had no clue how the Library was organized.  

“...M’am?”

Right, them.  She waved them off dismissively.  “You are dismissed.”

“...B-but--”

“Leave.”

She couldn’t quite hide the amused smile on her face as the group of them scrambled over each other in a panic.  After the dust settled, there was still a forgotten helmet wobbling in the dirt.  She sighed and picked it up too, she’d return it later with a lesson about treating your equipment with respect.  

With the helm tucked under one arm and the book hugged to her chestplate, she decided it would be best to turn in for the day.  She was feeling particularly cranky and hoped Gaster would be curled up with a book outside her door again, like he always was.  Something about him helped sooth the unending rage that never seemed to leave her be now a days.  

She frowned, and her thoughts began to wander into...dangerous territory.  She hadn’t heard a lot about the previous Judge, not from Asgore’s father at least.  But the previous Archivist - Stars bless him - had told her of Violence’s terrible grip on his brother’s soul.  She would never forget the pain on his face when he finally told her, that his brother had not simply died as everyone else said, but taken his own life because of it.  How sad.

Her grip on the book tightened, and she felt a foreign flash of fear brush her soul.  Would she get that bad, someday?  She could hardly imagine feeling so...so utterly lost, so at the mercy of Violence, that--

She stopped, before she was taken by giggles.  At the ‘Mercy’ of ‘Violence’.  That was ironic, and she couldn’t help it, she laughed.  It echoed down the halls, and one of the palace staff gave her an odd look.

She threw them an apologetic grin, and flinched when they squeaked and darted away and out of sight.  Out of fear.  

Her smile fell, and she sighed.  What will become of me?  She asked herself, curling inwards.  She stopped when she heard the groan of metal from the helmet she was currently crushing.  

Calibri stopped her journey through the palace and took a moment to get a hold of herself.  The part of her that Gaster saw, not the violence.  Not the strength.  Just...her.  What she was meant to be, not what she was.

Her soul gave a flutter of happiness at the though, and slowly the fires of rage calmed into embers for just a moment.  Slowly, she smiled, and felt her soul flutter again as she rounded the corner to her quarters, and saw Gaster sitting by the door, book in hand.

He was reliable as the sun rising in the morning.  “hello Dings!”  She called, breaking into a jog.  

Gaster jolted slightly when he heard Calibri call his name, and saw her sprinting towards him.  But she had a wide smile on her face, so he returned it.  However, she was getting rather close and not slowing--

He yelped as she dropped the helmet in her arm to the floor, and scooped him up into a half hug.  “Oof - Yes, hello Calibri.  Please put me down now.”  He laughed, and she did so, almost nervously.  

Smiling, he retrieved the helmet she’d dropped.  “This isn’t yours.  Did another recruit disappear?”

She snorted and carefully unlocked her door with a flick of magic.  “no, the fool left it after i had to scold them all for not locking the barracks.”

“Oh?”  Gaster replied curiously, following her into the room.  “Is that a problem?”

“there’s a little thief in town that likes to steal boots, they’ve taken to the ones the guards leave about the barracks.”

Gaster stared at her for a moment, before he burst into enthusiastic laughter.  Stars, she loved his laugh.  Despite his age (he was at least 20, as far as she knew), it seemed like his magic was still settling.  Probably because he hadn’t used his voice much since coming to the palace.  He’d have days where his it would waver, or his laugh would change.  But it was settling nicely into a deep baritone, and she would be lying if she didn’t find it rather...enticing.  

“Cali?”  He asked, pulling her out of her spacey thoughts.  “Are you alright?”

Shaking those thoughts from her skull, she smiled.  “yes, i was just thinking.  it doesn’t really matter.  oh!  something funny happened earlier.”

“Oh?  What happened?  Did you make another guard faint?”

She laughed.  “no!  not this time, at least.”  She produced the book and held it up for him.  “this fell on my head while i was addressing the recruits.”

She was so lost in the intricate designs on the book’s cover that she didn’t notice Gaster’s eye lights shrink to pinpricks.  “and i thought - who would dare disrespect a book like this by tossing it from a window?  and you love books, so i thought i would bring it to you.”  

Gaster’s mouth hung open for a few moments before he could respond.  “...Yes, books are...my thing.  I will take that and return it to the Library as soon as possible.”   He replied, reaching for the book only to have her pull it out of his reach.

The stiffness in his voice caught her attention, and for a second or two it felt like he was melting under the burning embers that were her eye lights.  “are you alright?”  She asked finally.

“Yes, I am fine.”

Her gaze became scrutinous.  She was just now noticing the darker, violet bone around his eye sockets.  “because you look like shit.”

He couldn’t help it, he snorted.  “Yes well, I’ve had a lot on my mind recently and probably haven’t been sleeping as well as I should.  It happens.”

The next few moments were rather...strange.  With a heated look, Calibri opened her mouth to respond, but then her eye lights guttered out and a rather...broken smile popped onto her face.  Gaster frowned, she was jumping through emotions far too fast to be healthy.  

“well, um.  nothing i can do for that, unfortunately.  here.”  She swatted the helmet from his grip and practically threw the book at him, before dashing off to her bedchamber.  The door slammed shut so loudly it made his skull ring.

Gaster fumbled to catch the book and not let the helmet break his foot, before he was left standing in her quarters in a confused stupor.  “...Uh.”  When she didn’t respond or reappear, he took a moment to sneer at the book in question.  He wondered if she’d read it.

God he hoped not, because if she ever found out he’d been the one to chuck it out the window, she’d probably laugh at him.  He flinched when he realized he’d actually hit her with the damn thing.  Oh stars, today was just an awful day, wasn’t it?

He sat on one of her chairs and tucked the book into his robes.  He considered the fire, but he knew if she ever found it there that she’d knew it was him.  

It was just a stupid book, why was he so embarrassed?  Sure, it was about courtship and...things, but still.  He doubted she had time to read any of it.

He was pulled out of his thoughts when he heard Calibri’s door click open.  She drifted into the room without her armor, which she always did when he came to visit.  But she looked so distant, and it scared him.  

“Cali, are you certain you’re alright?  You don’t look well.”

“i’m fine.”  She blurted out, before laughing nervously.  “i’m just lost in thoughts i would prefer not to have right now.”

Gaster frowned.  “Is it your Violence?”

She laughed again.  “actually, no?  it’s other things, don’t worry about it.  i don’t want to trouble you with it.”  

“It’s not a trouble.  Talk to me.”

“if i am talking, then you have to talk.  tell me what has been troubling you so, that you haven’t been sleeping well?”

At that, Gaster was silent.  

“well, if you aren’t willing to tell me, i’m not willing to tell you my trivial thoughts.”  She headed over to the fire and retrieved a jar of soup from the shelf above it.  “they aren’t bad thoughts, if you are concerned.  just...thoughts.”  

“Ah, alright.  Well, my troubles aren’t bad either, just...troubles.”  Gaster replied.  “Are you going to heat that up?”

“i was thinking about it.  i don’t really want to eat in the hall today.”  Calibri answered, dumping the contents of the jar into the pot above the fire.

“What kind is it?”  Gaster asked curiously, getting up to observe the soup.  

She found his curiosity endearing.  “just some stew Gerson made up for us in the barracks.  i keep it around for certain days.”  

“You know, I don’t think I want to go to the hall today either.  It’s been a terrible day.”  He replied, before his brain caught up with his mouth.  “I mean, I don’t want to impose.”

She snorted.  “i am not certain you’d like this.”  She told him, before putting the lid back on the pot.

“Is it bad?  I haven’t seen this Gerson fellow cook, so I can’t compare.”  

“no no, it’s fine.  it’s just a little more...substantial?  than you are probably used to.”

“What?  What do you mean?”

Oh this poor innocent boy.  She let out an amused sigh and set the jar back on the shelf.  She’d wash it...eventually. “it’s deer stew, very little magic.”

Gaster made a face.  “What?  Why would you eat that?  That’s human food.”

“Violence changes you, did you know that?”  She started, before focusing on him and giving him a wide, toothy grin.  “you become...predatory.”  

Oh.  Oh, that’s what she meant.  “...Oh.”  Gaster mumbled.  He had to admit, she was being a little scary, but he had a feeling she was doing that on purpose to tease him.  She did that often, so he ignored it.  “Well, I’d still like to try some.”

Her smile faltered and became more genuine, before she laughed.  “if you insist.  i do not have a table, though, so i hope you are fine sitting by the fire.”

“You don’t have a table?”  

“if i eat in here, i usually just eat at my desk.”  

“With your papers?  Cali, what if you spill food on them??”

“if they’re reports, i usually just toss those out.”  She admitted, snickering at his absolutely horrified face.

“Cali, those are important - You can’t just toss them out!”

She rolled her eye lights.  “oh?  and do you want to go check on the old woman who lost her tea pot for the fifth time this month?  or the gentleman who claims he’s not playing the lute loudly at all hours of the night and upsetting his neighbors?”

Gaster’s expression shifted into one of confusion.  “What?”

“that’s what most of my reports are.  shit like that.”  She snorted and checked on the soup.  It was mildly warm, perfect for her but probably not enough for more civilized folk.  A few more minutes then.

...Alternatively, she could just add more fire to heat it faster.  The fire roared a little louder, and she smiled.

Gaster noticed, like he noticed everything.  “...Do you have fire magic?”

“a little.  not like the King and Queen, exactly.  mine isn’t entirely natural.”  She replied, looking for some bowls that weren’t filthy.  She had a horrible habit of forgetting to wash her dishes.  She’d have to sneak some more clean ones away from the hall soon.

“What do you mean?”  Gaster asked.  She gave him a look that said she would prefer not to answer.  So he decided to shut up.

After a few moments of quiet, Calibri let out a soft “a-ha!” once she found a clean pair of bowls.  Now she just needed to find some spoons.

Gaster watched, torn between being amused and annoyed by her disorganization.  “You are a mess.”

She froze and looked back at him, sockets wide.  For a brief moment, Gaster thought she was angry, that he’d said the wrong thing, but then she broke into roaring laughter.  

Gaster watched as she collapsed into giggles on the floor, one of the bowls escaping her grip to roll to his feet.  “Definitely a mess.” He chuckled and picked up the abandoned dish, before offering Calibri his hand to help her up.

She snorted and grabbed it, yanking him onto the floor next to her.  He let out a loud yelp as the bowl escaped again.

Then he fell into laughter too.  This was so ridiculous, what they were doing.  “Why - haha - why are we on your floor?  Why is this funny?”

“i have no idea hehehe”  She giggled madly, and pulled him into an impromptu hug.

That knocked some sense back into Gaster, and he very quickly realized that what they were doing wasn’t entirely appropriate for their level of courtship.  Which was currently not...a thing at all.  Wrong or not, the book had been clear that cuddling was much further in the process than they should be at.

Calibri sat up and quirked a browbone at him.  “are you alright?  i didn’t hurt you, did i?  you look terrified...i’m sorry.”

“No, no no it’s not you.  Shh.”  Gaster reached up and touched her cheekbone.  Again, it seemed far too advanced a gesture for their relationship, but he felt his soul flutter when she reached up and held his hand there with a warm smile on her face.  

When he told her he wasn’t afraid of her, she could tell that he was being honest.  It was in his voice, his eye lights - the window to his soul.  She could look at his soul if she wanted the absolute truth, but...it felt like a violation of trust.  He’d been so kind and honest to her, she didn’t want to risk that on her curiosity.  Let him have his secrets, she told herself.

I want to kiss him, another thought spoke up.  And with that, she giggled nervously and picked herself up off the floor.  Retrieving the bowls, she checked the stew and lowered the fire.  “it’s ready, if you still want some.  i cannot say it will appeal to your tastes.”

Gaster had remained on the floor, entranced by the flurry of emotions that’d crossed her face just before she’d gotten up.  Warmth, curiosity, maybe affection?  And then shock, and panic.  He wanted to know what was going on in her mind.  It absolutely drove him mad, this mystery that was her.  

“Dings?  are you alright?”

Shaken from his thoughts, he got to his feet.  “Y-yes, yes I’m fine.”  He replied, brushing the dust from his robes.  “I’d still like to try some, it smells decent enough.”

She snorted in amusement, but dished up two bowls anyway.  She handed one to him and they both sat down before she remembered she’d never found the spoons.  “...oops.”  She gave him a nervous smile.

With a shrug, Gaster simply put the bowl to his teeth and sipped.  Half the mixture fell clear through the bottom of his jaw and onto his robes.  “Ah!”

Calibri let out a short laugh, before she clamped a hand over her mouth in hopes to muffle it.  

“W-what?  What just happened??”  Gaster asked, entirely embarrassed.  He’d wanted to show her that the breech of dinner etiquette didn’t phase him, but now he couldn’t hide it.  Not when he had stew dribbling into his robes.  

“i’m sorry,”  Calibri started, once she’d gotten a hold of herself.  She offered him a rag to dab up the food.  “i didn’t even think - others that have tried human food haven’t been as...lacking as our kind.”

“What??”

“you were treating it as if it were magic food, and it is not.”  She explained, or tried to at least.  “i’m not the best at explaining things.”

“How are you supposed to eat it if you can’t even get the damn food into your mouth then??”  Gaster grumbled, dabbing at his robes with rag.  He’d have to have them washed for sure.

Calibri tapped his arm, and he looked up at her, his face still crumpled in annoyance.  But then he noticed she was sticking her tongue out at him and giving him an absolutely cheeky look.  He felt his face heat up.  

Oh.  He’d never...yes, he knew skeletons could conjure appendages that they lacked, and that Calibri did that often, but he’d never actually...he noticed her tongue was like a shard of ruby, glittering in the firelight.  Almost without his consent, his eye lights darted down to her rib cage, where her other conjured...suddenly, a stream of absolutely inappropriate thoughts tore through his mind.  In a panic, he tore his gaze away to glare indignantly at his bowl of stew.  

Calibri didn’t know whether or not to be amused or concerned at his reaction.  She’d caught the way his gaze had drifted from her face downward, and she felt a little flicker of accomplishment.  But then she reminded herself that he was her dear friend, he was only probably comparing her tongue to her bosom because they were both conjured magic.  Manifested.  Not exactly real.  It was something he’d do, anyway, with the way his mind worked.

Still, she hoped she’d gotten her point across, and picked up her bowl of stew to sip on it.  

Gaster made a strange noise, drawing her attention again.  When she looked at him this time, he had a little violet tongue poking out from between his teeth.  

“...Ith thith righ’?”  He asked her.

Stars, she could have cooed at how adorable he was.  “put your tongue back in your mouth, Dings.”

He did so.  “Ah, okay.  So...now I can eat the stew?”

“i don’t know, can you?”  She replied cheekily, taking another sip of her stew.

The look of irritation on his face nearly made her spit it across the room.  

“You’re not being helpful.”  Gaster chided her, picking up his soup and trying again.  He managed to get some in his mouth this time, but now it was dribbling down his vertebrae.  “Ah!!  Dammit all!”

Calibri snorted and giggled, before she got up to retrieve a towel.  She didn’t want the stench of stew soaking into her chair.   ----- It took a more than a little trial and error to get the hang of it, but soon Gaster was able to eat the food without literally soaking himself in it.  She’d even given him a second helping, since most of his first had ended up in his robes.  

Over all, he found eating human food to be a lot more unpleasant than he’d thought.  It was heavy, and greasy, and lacked the tingle of intent that monster food always had.  It was like eating a dead animal, and that wasn’t exactly untrue.  Seeing deer wandering about wasn’t rare, they tended to linger around the palace and monster villages because monsters had no reason to harm them.  Usually.

Calibri though, seemed invigorated by the food in a way he was not.  Her eye lights blazed a little brighter, and she seemed the littlest bit more...dangerous?  Like her intent had shifted.  He still felt at ease with her, he knew she would never harm him, but it was easy to tell.

The stew sat heavy within him, and made him uncomfortable and tired.  “Ugh.”

“are you alright?”  She asked, retrieving his bowl and nonchalantly chucking it in the washbasin with the others.  She’d deal with them later.

“No.” Gaster answered honestly.  He wanted to crawl into bed and sleep for a year.

Calibri hummed.  “it takes a few tries to get used to it.  eating human food, i mean.”

“Why do you eat it then?”

“it...helps.”  She answered lamely.  

“Helps with what?”

“...the violence.”  She admitted, quietly.  “it gives my magic something to focus on, to...tear apart, to destroy?”

Gaster was quiet as he considered her answer.  “...That’s part of the...’predatory’ thing you mentioned earlier, yes?  Wait, can you no longer eat monster food??”

She fidgeted with her claws, picking at her right thumb knuckle.  She did that often when she was nervous.  “no, i can eat monster food easily enough, it just isn’t as...satisfying anymore?  i don’t know how to describe it.”

“So you need both?”

“no, i can survive on monster food.  if i ate only human food, i would starve.  but without it, days would become unbearable.”  She explained quietly.  “it would put people in danger.”

“Why?”  He asked, honestly not understanding what she...oh.  Oh no.  “No.  No, no no.  Cali, you are not dangerous.”

She snorted, but it was laced with bitterness.  “you truly know nothing of me.”

“I know enough.  You are not dangerous.”

“Do not speak as if you can Judge me.”  She hissed at him.  She expected him to jolt back in fear at her voice.

But he stood there, giving her that deadpan stare, before he reached up and swatted her in the foreskull with his hand.  The sound of bone on bone was loud in the silence.  “Stop that.  Stop trying to scare me off.”

It was absurd.  He had the gall to strike her??  Sure, it lacked ill intent, but - the nerve!  She was Captain of the Guard, she was the Hand of Judgment!  How dare he, how dare--

“Wait, you’re not actually angry with me now, are you?  Should I leave?”

He was so...brave and stupid!  She felt her mask break, and she collapsed to the floor in mad giggles for a second time that night.

Gaster just stood there in confusion, absolutely at a loss over what to do.  She’d gone from pissed to giggles in a split second.  He honestly had no idea how to deal with that.  “W-what??”

It took a few moments for Calibri to regain herself.  But eventually she did, although she let herself remain on the floor.  “if only i could be as honest as you.”  She began, a warm smile on her face.  

“It’s not difficult.”  Gaster replied, sitting next to her on the floor.  

She took a deep breath, a breath they both knew she didn’t need to take.  “you smell tasty.”

Gaster gave her an indignant stare.  “Please, do not.”

“do not what?”

“Say that ever again.”

“that you smell tasty?”

“Yes that.  Do not.”

“does it upset you?”

“...Yes.”

She snorted.  “you don’t look upset.”

“I am, be quiet.”

“your face is purple.”

“It does that when I’m upset.”

She snickered again, before her sockets fluttered closed.  She let herself relax a little.  

“...Is it helping?”

“hmm?  is what helping?”

“The food.  Is it helping make your day more bearable?”

She made a dismissive noise.  “if anything is helping make my day bearable, it’s you.”

Gaster couldn’t really find the words to respond to that.  Not without massively embarrassing himself, at least.  So he went quiet.  

The two stayed like that for a while, him sitting by the fire and her draped across the floor like a comfortable rug.  Eventually, even the smell of the stew soaking his robes became unbearable, and Calibri sat up and stretched.  

Gaster had simply been staring at the fire in thought, and jumped when he heard her finally.  “...Did you have a good nap?”

“i was not asleep.  simply resting and enjoying good company.”  She got to her feet easily, in a practiced, fluid movement.  He had no doubt it was an instinctive move now, with how many times she’d gotten knocked down in battle.  Sometimes it was hard for him to imagine her as the warrior she actually was.  She was just so...silly most of the time.

“what are you thinking about?”

“How terrifying it would be to fight you.”  He answered, hoping she’d understand his lie.

She laughed.  “why?  do you want to fight me?”

His sockets widened and he shook his head.  “Stars no, no.  I would die of fear before you ever laid your hands on me.”

She scoffed.  “you die of fear?  you bopped me on the head earlier.  i think you’d die of stupid before you ever died of fear.”

“I am not stupid.”

“you are emotionally stupid.”

He opened his mouth to disagree, but reconsidered.  “...I...suppose you are not wrong.”

“that is my line.”

“Again, you are not wrong.”  He smiled.  

She snorted, before grasping him under his arms and lifting him up off the floor.  He made a soft yelp in surprise.  “get up, you stink.”

“I thought I smelled tasty?”

“that was hours ago, human food spoils quickly.”

“Is that why your room always smells like rotting meat?”

She frowned, and Gaster swore he felt the pressure in her grip double.  Right, she could crush him if she wanted to.  But then again, he knew she didn’t want to.  That one thought made him very brave.  “Surely I don’t add too much to that aroma.”

“stop talking.”

“Make me.”

He yelled in shock as she hefted him over her shoulder and strode towards the bedchamber.

“Wait wait I didn’t mean it!!”  He struggled to get free, but it was pointless.  She was too strong.  

“then your mouth is too honest.”  She replied, before unceremoniously dropping him onto the stone floor of her bedchamber.  “Oof!”  

She gave him a smirk, before heading to her wardrobe and looking for a set of robes he could possibly wear, at least so he didn’t smell of rancid stew the entire way back to his wing.

“What are you doing?”

“i am looking for something for you to wear.”  

He frowned at her.  “I am not wearing a dress.”

She scoffed.  “good, because i’m not giving you one of my gowns.  i have common clothes too.”

“These are not common clothes, these are the Archivist’s robes!”

“well, your robes stink of deer meat.”

“That’s not my fault!!”

Pulling a set of robes from her wardrobe that were...almost suspiciously identical to his own, she held them out for him to take.

He...stared at them in confusion.

“you’re supposed to take them.”

He snatched them from her, before examining them closely.  “That’s not - why do you have Archivist’s robes?  Even the gold stitching is the same...”  

“they belonged to my - well, he wasn’t exactly my father, but we were very close.  he was the archivist before you.  i kept them after he passed.”

Gaster gave her a look of surprise, before regarding the robes with the same sort of amazement.  “...I can’t take these.”  

“please do, you stink.”

“Not because of that, these - these are yours, i can’t--”

“yes, they’re mine and i’m letting you borrow them.  i do want them back, however.”

“Why?”

She gave him a look that told him that was a stupid question.  “because they’re important to--”

“No, why are you...letting me borrow them?”

She rolled her eye lights.  “i’ve already told you, because you stink--”

“Stars dammit Cali, you know that’s not what I mean!”

She sighed.  “...because you always do well to take care of your things, and i trust you not to destroy them before you can get them back to me.”

“Thank you...and...fine.  I’ll wear them.”

“thank you.”  She smiled, before she tugged on a book in her bookshelf, and it...opened up a doorway??  

“...What.”

“the bathing room.”

“...You have your own bathing room?”

“the previous judge did not like being vulnerable around others, from what i heard.  i honestly prefer the bathing chamber in the King and Queen’s wing.”

It took him a second or two to process that sentence and what it implied.  “Wait wait, you’ve been in the Royal bathing chamber?!”

She gave him that cheeky smirk again.  “quite often, yes.  it’s fun to have a little girl time with Toriel every now and again.”  

His face was quite purple now, and she giggled madly.  “it’s even more fun when Asgore joins us.  you know, you should--”

He made a noise akin to a deflating balloon and dashed into the bathing chamber.  The door slammed shut and she broke into roaring laughter.  Such an innocent little thing.  

Not so little, she reminded herself.  Even as the seasons changed, she could see him coming into his magic well.  Where she had to look down at him to meet his eyes when they’d first met, now they were practically equal.  Soon, he’d likely surpass her.  

Not that she was tall, of course, but she’d been taller than him.  Once.

There was a soft noise, a splash.  “Ah-ah!  You failed to mention the water was freezing!!”

She snorted.  “oh, and it’s not heated, sorry!”

“Dammit Cali, I’m freezing my phalanges off!!”

“i could come heat the water for you.”  She cooed through the door.  He made another squeaky noise.  

“No I’m fine!”

“i’m going to!  oh you poor thing, you must be so cold in there!”

“NO DON’T YOU DARE OPEN THAT DOOR!!”

It was absurd, teasing him through the door like that.  She roared with laughter for the third (the third!!) time that night.  It made her soul feel lighter than it had in ages.  In fact, the blaze of Violence in her soul was almost undetectable.  If she looked for it, it was still there, but smothered in something else, something warm and comforting.  

That feeling combined with the food her magic was working hard to rip to shreds made her rather sleepy.  She trusted Gaster to take care of himself, she was tired.

Quickly undressing into her night clothes, she crawled into bed and tucked herself in.  The voices of the Font were loud tonight, helping her to make sense of the things she’d experienced that day, among other things.  Helping her pick apart the meaning of everyone’s actions.  But even so, Gaster and the path he was on remained a mystery to her.  

Soon the voices faded and she slipped into a calm slumber. ----- “i could come heat the water for you.”  Gaster heard her sing through the door.  The noise he made was absolutely abhorrent.  

“No I’m fine!”  He blurted out, sinking further into the icy water.  He hadn’t realized it was a cold spring before tossing himself into it, it’d had mist (that’s not steam!) floating above it and the rest of the room was full of that comfortable warmth that always seemed to permeate Calibri’s quarters.

Now he was rattling himself to pieces in the chilly bath.  

“i’m going to!  oh you poor thing, you must be so cold in there!”  She teased through the door.

“NO DON’T YOU DARE OPEN THAT DOOR!!”  Gaster shrieked, pushing his magic into the door in case she tried.  Then he heard her laughing again.  It was such a stupid laugh and for such a stupid reason, but it still made his soul flutter wildly with happiness, that he could be the one to make her laugh like that.  Even if it was at his own expense.

He ducked under the water completely until the sound faded and the room became quiet.  Washing quickly, he dressed in the fresh robes (they smelled like the rest of her clothes, that warm cedar scent, like the fire) and was impressed by how much better they were than his own.  They were also far too large for him, but that was besides the point.  

The previous Archivist had worn these.  Stars, what he wouldn’t give to have met him, to be trained by him instead of having to rely on mere books and notes.  

A thought popped back into his head.  If rumors were true, the vast knowledge the previous Archivist had once had should be retained in the even more vast Font of Knowledge, among other things.  Right...access to the Font was originally his reason for bothering Cali in the first place.

Gathering up his soiled robes, he quietly opened the door and wondered if she’d mind if he just took a moment or two to use--

She was in bed.  And her bed was in the middle of the Font.  He made a sour face.  It looked like he wasn’t going to be getting access to the Font any time soon.  Defeated, he made his way towards the door.

“mm.  are you finished?”  Calibri mumbled quietly, poorly holding in a yawn.  Her razor teeth glinted in the low candle light.

Gaster stared at her for a moment, because she was in her bed clothes and he felt that it was entirely inappropriate to see her like this.  “I - um--”

She chuckled.  “they look enormous on you.  well, at least they’re clean.  bring them back soon?”

“Y-Yes, I will.”

“promise?”

“Of course.”

She hummed, before tucking herself back into bed.

And that was it.  Gaster saw her relax and almost instantly fall asleep again, like it was the easiest thing in the world.  

He shut the door, and was left to his own devices in her quarters.  Bundled up in his borrowed robes, he decided to at least repay her kindness and clean up.  

And, you know, since she was completely useless at cleaning up after herself.  There were at least a dozen filthy bowls lying around, half of them he was sure she’d stolen away from the Hall.  

Rolling up his sleeves, he heated some water and filled up the washbasin with a stray shard of soap he’d spotted on a shelf.  He scrubbed every bowl, spoon, fork and knife he could find until they were spotless, and then stuck them in the cupboard where he felt they probably belonged.  He found a collection of food jars full of...questionable things that were beginning to fester, and washed them up too.  Hopefully she wouldn’t mind.  

The room certainly smelled a lot better after his cleaning spree.  He’d scrubbed the bones in his hands raw, but it was worth it.  Gathering up his soiled robes, the book he’d abused earlier toppled out onto the floor.  It’d somehow missed getting soaked with stew, but he gave it a good sneer anyway.  

Deciding that she’d still probably notice if he tossed it in the fire, he took it with him.  

Despite that one part about not courting those above your station, the rest of the book did seem rather...helpful.  Maybe Cali liked him more than he initially thought?  She clearly felt at ease around him, offered him food, allowed him in her...bedchamber.  His face flooded with magic at that last thought.  

She’d claimed to have spent time in the Royal bathing chamber, with the King and Queen no less.  Public baths weren’t frowned upon of course, but it was the principle of the thing!  

Idly, he wondered if he could join them.  Then again, Asgore may not want him to see the Queen like that.  He knew Cali was different, they were good friends before they were King, Queen and Captain.

But then again, if he began to court Calibri, he wouldn’t want anyone to see her like that either.  But he knew he couldn’t stop her, even if he wanted to.  The last thing he wanted was to try and change her, the way she was.  it would ruin the mystery of her.

Ugh, why was this all so confusing.  It didn’t help that his soul roiled in protest at the food he’d eaten.  She was right, whatever was in that food definitely wasn’t settling well with him.  Hopefully she hadn’t inadvertently poisoned him.

He shook his head of that thought right then, because he knew she would never harm him.  She would’ve never let him eat it if she thought it might kill him.  But still...maybe he should be the one to offer food from now on.  If she was willing to stomach that garbage, surely she’d be willing to put up with his slightly less awful cooking.

He was so lost in thought, he didn’t even notice that he’d walked right past his door and all the way to the library.  He knew he should go back to his quarters and probably sleep, but his mind was going now.  He wondered if there was any book documenting the differences Violence made in a monster’s soul.  The physical changes, the dietary variances, it was all so interesting to him.

He wondered if it was rude, to think of her that way.  Like an experiment.  No, she would understand, especially if his intent was to help, perhaps in the future, maybe...maybe monsters would not have to suffer through the affects of Violence to become stronger.  Or for any reason.

Maybe they could all live in peace.

The thought warmed his soul, and he quickly lit a candle at his favorite desk and got to work looking through the book ledger, even as the moon rose outside the tower and cast it’s cool light on the floor around him.