#;;i was wrong

[miithriin]

Gollum: *growls*

Talion: *high pitched scream* GET YOUR FUCKING DOG, BITCH!

Celebrimbor: Calm yourself Talion, he doesn't bite.

Talion: YES IT DO!

[lothrilzul]

Up to now, I thought the Talon Company sigil was a dancing lion.

[kxndncss]

                              [INCISION NUMBER ONE]

         Ambition was one thing--to take risks into account and calculate the various instances in which an experiment could go wrong was a process Gaster (despite himself) quite enjoyed. Gaster was a meticulous creature, he was a monster of numbers, of structure--it was in application, in the actual experiment that many found themselves pale, and shy away from the challenge. His hypothesis was one many clung to--what was a husk of a monster that carried the unfathomable power of human beings? What if they could harness the durability of human kind--what if no one need suffer the underground if one were to offer their body for science? It was a hard call to make.

Perhaps why Gaster never offered. 

He never would.

A hush fell over the laboratory’s expansive walls, finally devoid of any voices which would seek to detour Gaster’s new-found resolve. He hadn’t been made for battle, he was not streamlined for destruction as others might have been, but his bones were D E N S E, they harbored magic in ways others could not hope to replicate. If he could afford another his immense magical prowess--if he could drink in a human’s potential for the good of Magical creatures, he would have gladly done so. Only he couldn’t--not without breaking down and melting into nothing. So, what of a creature who could possibly harness the powers of the very beings that had banished them to a life of darkness--? what of a creature born with such terrible potential? Gaster would make it so.

Gaster would offer the pieces needed in earnest. He would offer it his bones.

It was his responsibility.

His first attempt was crude at best, mapped with a marker along the top of his right hand--a simple circle, large enough as a base, just enough to begin before the addition of unnatural compounds. It was the easiest avenue to pursue, after all--it did not inhibit his movement, it did not take away from his ability to continue his work. What was some minor self mutilation? He scored the outline with the tip of a scalpel, peeling back bone with a small curl of painful residue in its wake with each tentative push of his fingers. He hissed, he sucked down the immense discomfort in a needless breath an completed his endeavor with the very same reluctance as he’d started with. The pain was nothing, really--he could endure, he would have to if he meant to continue his work. His pain meant nothing in the shadow of the mountain that kept them all prisoner.

The pain echoed in a throb that traveled along his bones, wreathing his arm in an uncomfortable swath until it radiated in a shock within the crack that bisected his skull. The force of the sudden pain left him dizzy, and suddenly all too mindful of the night human steel split him open for the first time--it would not be the last, he reminded himself. By the night’s ending, he would have one more scar to bear.

The device he sets to finish the deed was crude at best, a circular blade wrought together in haste unbecoming of a monster of his caliber--but time was of the essence, and precision gave way to practicality--what could get the job done quicker, was the question Gaster fought with each new hastily constructed component. More power, sharper blades, pressure, time, to be mindful of pain was not an avenue the Royal Scientist considered. Ten seconds was all he would need.

Ten seconds.

He readied himself, adjusted the device and positioned it above the scored outline--And what a perfect match, he thought grimly as the cold sensation of steel bled into his wounded bones without mercy. Ten seconds, the skeleton reminded himself, just ten seconds--

A breath, pointless as it was, broke against his teeth, and he adjusted the cruel straps which held his arm down taut (adjusted should he lose his will to continue half way through, there would be no means of pulling away.) and he was ready. Ten seconds. Ten seconds and it would be over.

* ☜☠☝✌☝☜📬

                                       * [ENGAGE.]

His strange tongue was lost to the sound of a roar, to the whirl of cold, unfeeling technology. The pain was instantaneous and grueling, and wrenched terrible screams from the skeleton monster he’d not thought himself capable of--not anymore. Ten seconds was all it took to separate the section of bone needed for his experiment to continue--

                      It was the longest ten seconds of his life.

He gasped sharply once the machine powered down, content to curl into his seat as he drank in the receding tides of agony as a cliff side overlooking a turbulent seafront. Slowly, he removed the leather straps from his upper arm, careful not to disturb the blade or the sample it had so effectively procured.

His head throbbed, and the cold sensation of steel bled into his fingertips once more--it would not let go.

* ✋☠👍✋💧✋⚐☠ ☠🕆💣👌☜☼ ⚐☠☜ 📬 📬 📬  👍⚐💣🏱☹☜❄☜📬

          * [INCISION NUMBER ONE . . .  

                                                   COMPLETE.]

[kxndncss]

[H e a d  c a n o n]

                   [Sans, Papyrus, and the splintered soul]

                                    [Part 1] [Part 2]

SAMPLE 00787 S. is born.

          After several days of close observation, Gaster concluded the newly minted life was stable enough to sustain form outside of stasis. He assumes the project will go without a hitch (despite the constant, and extreme state of weariness he felt), but upon taking its first few breaths, Gaster finds that, perhaps, his resolve in remaining impassive in regards to this small creature isn’t quite as strong as he thought it would be. The more he studies and interacts with the subject, the more certain he is that they’re aware (on some level, anyway) of what is happening around them.

Gaster is, at first, reluctant to believe  what he sees, at once truly amazed and horrified at what extreme results could be wrought with only a piece of a soul’s whole.

His resolve to press on and continue the process of exposure ultimately wilts, however, as the small child begins (even at such an early stage) to emulate sounds, attempts at speech akin to a baby’s babbling. The child was sentient, his initial experiment was a failure--to proceed would mean willfully putting a living, thinking, feeling creature through torture. Gaster doesn’t continue, he retires the project (left to be rekindled by other means as the years pass) and gifts the small child with a name.

The child was called Sans.

Gaster was a monster of many talents, but rearing a child (especially when he lacked the proper instinct to care for himself) was not something he was prepared for, nor was it something he necessarily welcomed at first. Though kind, W.D Gaster had no intentions of starting a family of any kind (due in part to his experiences as a child). It is with the aid of his oldest friend Unafyne that the Royal Scientist finds his paternal instincts fostered, and the new-found/unintentional addition to his life to be far more gratifying than he’d thought possible.

The weakness in him eventually passed, his work on the core continued, and Sans was growing to be every bit as brilliant as his father.

But it was not enough.

[kxndncss]

                                          [H e a d  c a n o n]

                    [Sans, Papyrus, and the splintered soul]

                                                           [Part 1]

         Gaster was appointed the prestigious title of Royal Scientist after the ending of the Great War, and was charged with a few very important tasks: Aid in the provision of power for monster-kind, and research (the eventual) means of escape from the underground. 

One was infinitely more complicated than the other.

While his work on the CORE was a constant, ongoing project, Gaster was slowly immersed into research covering the physical properties of Human beings, and what it was that made them more durable than monsters, what it was that gave the human soul the force to persist even after the body had died. Enduring the horrors of war, afforded Gaster insight (first hand experience) on the raw power a human soul could possess.

His research into what would become known as DETERMINATION would begin.

W.D Gaster was well known as a risk taker, brilliant, ceaseless worker, yet reckless, but never with those who followed/worked for him. He would never chance the life of another beyond his own, (his KINDNESS) his strict safety regimen was often said to have hindered what could have been life changing research.

Not that Gaster would hear any of it.

Due in part to this (or perhaps some extreme lack of self worth) Gaster often subjected himself to his own research for the sake of progress. This eventually leads him to the hypothesis: could a monster feasibly maintain the same sort of power a human soul could and remain solid?

The answer seemed obvious.

No. Not by any natural means, anyway.

It was then Gaster began toying with the magic involved with monster birth, and how it could possibly aid in the continuance of his research. If he could create artificial life, perhaps his research would go more smoothly--he could distance himself from what was essentially just an extension of his arm. 

Right?

Using Magic, Gaster forced a fraction of his soul to splinter, tearing his very essence from his core to begin what would ultimately change his work, and his life, forever.

SAMPLE 00787 S. is born