#william gaster

[rescueddetermination]

Entry No. 4

Will drops into his chair with a groan. 

He’s got a set of claw-inflicted gashes on his left arm, which were unfortunately inflicted straight through his sweater. He’s bleeding from them, but not enough that he cares to bandage up yet. Otherwise, he just looks... satisfied.  In the background, there’s the sound of happy crying.  “Chara is awake.” Will starts, folding his hands in front of him. “And seems to be mostly intact. They are currently with Asriel and Lucas in the other room.”

“They don’t seem to be able to speak. I believe it’s related to laryngeal damage from the flowers’ toxin. It may be fixable through surgery, but I’ll need to investigate further before I attempt anything. Their sense of balance was certainly unaffected, they were quite capable of defending themselves from a perceived threat...” As Will speaks, one of his remote hands wanders in the background, a bite mark in its side. It looks almost dazed.  “They have made some comments that have me particularly concerned about what they might have been experiencing while their Soul was acting up. There’s not much to be done about that, at the moment, but it bears monitoring.” Will says, sliding over to pick up the hand and gently rubbing its palm. Like an animal, it spreads itself wide and relaxes in his grip, and he begins to slowly repair the bite marks with his magic.  “It’s still hard for me to process that the Queen would decide to entrust the kid to me. Lucas and Asriel haven’t been told yet. I’ll talk to Chara about it once things have calmed down some. I agree with her assessment that the child should be in a situation where their caretaker can monitor their health, but I still barely feel like I knew what I was doing with just Lucas.” Will shakes his head and pats the remote hand, its wounds filled in as though patching a piece of clay. It hops into the air and gives him a thumbs-up before sailing off past the camera.  “I am also attempting to find temporary means of communication with Chara that don’t require a pad or pen or keyboard. I seem to recall a form of hand-gesture-based language that was practiced by mute and deaf individuals on the surface, but there isn’t anything in the literature I have down here about it. If there’s anyone out there who knows of such a system, please let me know?” “Ah, and on that note-” Will clears his throat. “My deepest thanks to Sentiment, a Doctor like myself who helped me resuscitate Chara. He answered some of my questions and was generally pleasant to work with. I hope to meet many more individuals out there through this connection. For now, log number four, William D. Gaster, signing off.”

[rescueddetermination]

To whomever taught my child to say ‘Assflash’, I do not appreciate it and would like to speak to you.

[rescueddetermination]

Entry No. 3

The screen clicks on to show the good Doctor again. He’s wearing a sweater this time, with a funny (well, the Queen thought it was funny) image of a cat on it. The cat’s wearing lab goggles, and the sweater reads ‘I have no idea what I’m doing’ in large white font. Though Will is never going to admit it, he finds it hilarious and adorable. He sips from his coffee, then pushes his glasses up and leans forward. He looks better-rested, at least. The sound of the EKG, and the pumping of a ventilator, both filter in from another room.  “Well, hello out there again.” He said, after a moment. “I suppose we had the satellite down for a few days. I wish I had better news.”

“Chara’s alive, but still nonresponsive. Their brainwave activity is erratic, and spikes along with their seizures, as expected. What I did not expect was to find that her Soul’s magical activity also spikes during these episodes. All I know about human Souls is their magical potential. I’ve never once heard of a medical condition that caused one to do this.” Will says. He shakes his head. “It doesn’t make sense.” “That said, their temperature has stabilized, and what organ damage occurred from the toxins has been stopped. I’m treating parts of their stomach, liver, and respiratory system. Their throat suffered some damage, and the tissues are healing. How they heal will determine how well their voice recovers. I’m hopeful, but there are operations I can perform if something dramatic happens.” He pauses, then glances at the picture on his desk. “While I’ve asked King Asgore not to allow anyone to bother me right now unless it’s an emergency, the Queen did stop by. We... talked. She and Asriel have spoken, and I believe things will be all right in the royal family.” He pauses again. “She wants me to take custody of the child. For medical reasons, and because I believe she blames herself for allowing this to happen. So long as Chara is willing, once they wake up, I am to assume full responsibility for them. I know the Queen, and I know she wouldn’t just decide something like this on a whim, but this still seems drastic.” Will sighs, then turns back to the camera. “Right. At any rate, we’ve managed to perform some updates to the Chronos probe. While I only received one message, in private, it has given me hope that there are more of you out there. The probe should now allow for near-realtime communication, though I still believe it cannot handle live transfer of video. So if you’re out there, if you’re seeing this... send a signal back.” His hand moves up to the keyboard. “Log number three, William D. Gaster, signing off.”

[rescueddetermination]

Entry No. 2

This time, Will is nowhere to be found. Instead, the tops of two fuzzy heads appear at the bottom of the frame, one black, one white.  “Told you the angle was messed up.” One says, and a gangly black-furred arm reaches up to fix it. The hand has a visible set of pink pads. “S’not my fault your dad’s almost taller than mine.” The other replies.  As the camera angles down, the kids come into view. Asriel and Lucas, giving each other a look. At least they look rested and fairly composed. Just like before, there’s the gentle beep of an EKG in the background. Asriel’s wearing borrowed pajamas, and he’s folded the extra sleeves into a sort of scarf. Lucas’ eyes are a gentle gold. “Okay, uh, how to start?” Lucas asks, folding his arm back around his chest to rub his shoulder. “Umm. Hi. I’m Lucas Gaster, an’ this is Asriel Dreemurr.”

“Doctor Gaster’s sleeping.” Asriel says. “So, uh, we thought... we might try and record some stuff for this thing. We just got a message that the, um, the probe thing was ready.” “I mean, it came up on dad’s phone.” Lucas clarifies. “But he hasn’t slept for, like... three days.” “So we wanted him to sleep.” Asriel says. “And, um, here we are. It said we could get text messages and maybe images. Video and live stuff, they said, that’d take more bandwidth.” “Something about the probe-thing’s location.” Lucas says. He shrugs. It’s an odd rippling motion with all four arms. “I dunno exactly. But anyway.” “First of all, wanna make sure everyone knows, already told Doctor Gaster. Chara told me to call ‘em ‘they’ an’ ‘them’.” Asriel says, crossing his arms. “I know he said ‘girl’ in the first’un but he was wrong.” “Yeah, dad didn’t know.” Lucas says. “Second, um. He’s really not sure what’s going on.” “He said the flowers might mess with her brain.” Asriel says. Both kids glance past the camera at something. “And he sounded really worried about that.” “So, um, if you’re out there, maybe send a message back? Just.. you know, in case.” Lucas says. His eyes return to the camera. “‘cause my dad needs help. He was so tired. An’ Chara needs help too.” “Yeah.” Asriel nods. “Even jus’ knowin’ there’s someone out there would probably be nice, I guess?” “Would mean he could ask more specific stuff!” Lucas says. “And, I mean, people from another... what’d he call it?” “Time-line?” Asriel shrugs. “Anyway, meetin’ new people’d be cool.” “*Very* cool.” Lucas agrees. “Especially if dad can get help with Chara.” “Yeah, um. I’m... I’m pretty scared that, y’know, they aren’t gonna wake back up.” Asriel says, wringing his hands. Lucas wraps both of the arms on that side around him in a hug. “S-so, um. Yeah.” “S’pretty much all of it. Um... talk to you later, maybe?” Lucas says, then taps the escape key, and the transmission goes blank. 

[rescueddetermination]

Entry No. 1

The broadcast starts distorted. The sound of typing and the beep of an EKG can be heard. 

When Will finally appears from the static, he’s leaned forward, fiddling with something behind the camera. He’s sitting in an office chair, wearing a plain white t-shirt that damn near blends in with his skin, and on the back wall an aged diploma that identifies him as Dr. William Dillon Gaster, M.D. is visible. Another one claims he earned a license to practice general surgery. Framed on the desk next to his chair is a picture of him with a huge smile on his face, cradling a tiny black fuzzy baby in his arms--Lucas, on the day of his adoption. The doctor sits back, and his exhausted face comes into the frame. He’s holding his glasses instead of wearing them, and his eyes barely look focused. His hair is a complete mess, and there’s a coffee stain on the collar of his shirt. 

“This is Entry Number One.” He says, and takes a moment to stare at the screen. He snaps back to it when a haggard yell echoes through the room, and shakes his head. “My name is William Dillon Gaster, and I suppose I’m not sure what I’m hoping to gain from this. Perhaps I want someone to know what’s going on. I’ve asked my team to work on modifying Chronos to accept inbound messages as soon as they get some rest. But I want someone to know what I’ve found, and what’s happening.” “Three hours ago I returned to my lab bearing a young girl from the royal gardens. She’d ingested what I initially believed to be some kind of buttercup, and was undergoing some kind of toxic shock. I now believe the flowers had been modified by some kind of magical contaminant. They had certainly mutated for some reason.” Will sets his glasses down and rubs his face.  “The girl is not currently fully conscious. She’s breathing, I’ve pumped her stomach and purged it with charcoal, and I’ve been administering medicine as necessary to try to fight the fever and potential respiratory damage.” Will shakes his head. “I’ll document her unique biology later, but for now, suffice to say that I fully believe the rumors of Boss Monster crossbreeding resulting in viable children were true. That’s unimportant for the moment. She’s being monitored by my son and Prince Asriel.” “If you’re receiving this log, I assume that you’re seeing it by monitoring transmissions from outside your local time-space. The theory is still nebulous to me. We only brought our probe online two days ago. Though I admit her situation leaves me slightly overwhelmed on its own, the reason I’m turning to such a long-shot idea as this log is simple. I remotely checked our probe during a spare moment and found that we had somehow created a sort of branch off of the timeline that we were previously on. The other one has ceased. I don’t know what that means.” Will leans forward and places his head in his hands. “I’m not expecting much, if anything, to come from this. I’ve never been great at keeping logs of events or experiments. But this is... necessary, I think. If anyone is out there, then... hello, I suppose.” A conjured hand appears, hovering over the escape key. “Log number one, William D. Gaster, signing off.”

[rescueddetermination]

Crisis Point

It was two in the afternoon when Will staggered into the Chronos lab. He rubbed his eyes, then looked at his assistants. They’d started to take shift-naps, which was fine. Right now, Alphys was taking hers, which left Tenor and Jacob at the computers.  “Alright, what’s going on?” He asked, looking over the screens. A map of the Underground...? “We pinpointed that fucked up spot.” Tenor said, turning in her chair. “Yer not gonna like it, boss.” “It will have been a shock, we believe, yes.” Jacob added, typing away. “Coordinate system is having been checked and double-checked, however. Cannot have been mistaken.”

“Show me.” Will said, and Tenor nodded. She spun back around, and the pair brought up their findings. The map was intricately detailed, and accompanied by a clock. As it advanced toward 9:56 PM, a field of red dots appeared, with exact timestamps and coordinate data. They converged around Asgore’s garden, and by the time the clock hit 9:56 exactly, they had solidified into a single point. Will leaned back, rubbing his face again. Tenor and Jacob shared a look--the boss never preferred his real hands this much. But he had gotten the least sleep of all of them, and from the expression on his face, he wasn’t intending to get more anytime soon.  “Thoughts?” Will asked, as the animation played again. The two monsters looked down at their keyboards, and all three of them spent a long moment trying to process what all of this meant. “Timeline of events will have become unstable after that coordinate.” Jacob said, finally. “Can have seen in prior loop.” “I agree.” Tenor said. “Somethin’ happens there that fucks with the whole thing.” “In Asgore’s garden, though?” Will mused. “The guard aren’t foolproof, but they’d notice a bomb or something similar that wasn’t supposed to be there.” “So whatever it is, it’s probably supposed’ta be there.” Tenor said, and growled. “That’d be th’Queen, th’King, their son...” “None of which are having been prone to danger-causing, especially not when of this magnitude.” Jacob said, clicking his mandibles thoughtfully.  “Something that could do this, that wouldn’t rouse suspicion getting inside the gardens at night.” Will said, and leaned on the wall. He stared at that spot. Not far from where they’d had tea just minutes earlier. Over by that overgrown buttercup patch, in fact.  But buttercups never hurt anything. Even when ingested, he knew, they were mildly toxic--a high fever, vomiting, some cramping, but nothing that could disrupt history. He frowned. Something powerful enough to register on the Chronos probe’s instruments. Something inconspicuous within the castle. His brow furrowed. It couldn’t be. Could it? “Tenor.” He said, evenly. “Jacob. I want you to meet me in the gardens at nine fifty five. Bring recording equipment and stay in the shadows once you’re there.” “Yessir.” They responded.  “For now, go home, get some rest. I need to take care of some things at home myself. Remember, not a word of this to anyone, especially not the royals or the press. I’ll message Alphys to take up the control room duties once she’s done sleeping.” “Understood.” Tenor nodded, hopping down from her chair.  “It will have been done.” Jacob said, getting up and stretching.  “Good. I’ll be there.” Will said. He turned and left the room, and said not a word to anyone on his way back to the small New Home lab that doubled as his house. Even as he weaved around pedestrians in the crowded streets of the city, he simply kept his head down and let his mind wander over what he now suspected. He was broken from his thoughts when he arrived home. It took him a second of breathing deep to get his head back in the moment. Once that was done, he opened the door and stepped inside. The home part of his lab was a comfortable little two-bedroom affair. He had a couch, a television, a stocked kitchen, the usual amenities. Coming home was always refreshing, after working long hours, but what brought a smile to Will’s face was the boy on the couch.  Lucas Serif Gaster was seven years old, the adopted son of the royal scientist. Will had taken him in as an infant, and raised him as best he could with the help of the royal family and a small group of friends. The kid was, like Will, a fairly rare and unique monster--four gangly arms with gently clawed, slender fingers, long, lanky legs ending in slim feline paws, and gently fuzzy skin the color of ash. He had no visible nose, pointed elfin ears, a mouth of herbivorous flat teeth, and his eyes shifted color with his mood.  For now, Lucas was passed out on the couch, a textbook open but face-down on his chest in his lower pair of arms. His upper right arm was propped over his eyes, and his mouth was wide open, snoring away.  Will shook his head as he removed his lab coat, hanging it by the door. He retrieved a blanket from the closet and gently pulled it over his son, placing a gentle, warm hand on his head. The boy had been studying hard, and it pained Will that he was so busy. He’d promised that once this current project was underway, he’d bring Luke to work with him. While the CORE was far too dangerous for the kid, and Chronos was too top-secret, Luke’s desire to help and to learn meant that the prospect of seeing the Hotland Lab was far more exciting than any trip to Snowdin or outing in New Home.  With a quiet sigh, the doctor headed for his bedroom. He needed the sleep. One last thing. One last part of the puzzle. Then he’d make time to let Luke help him.

[rescueddetermination]

King

Will checked his watch again as he approached the castle door. Almost on time. He hadn’t slept since the findings came in the night before, and even now, his team was still at the lab. They’d started to develop a coordinate system, one that could include data on both time and position, and were running their data through that to organize it. There was also talk about remotely modifying the Chronos probe to support more functionality, but that was simply theory for the time being. With nothing left to do and an hour of sleep, Will rushed to New Home for his weekly afternoon meeting with the King. He opened the door two minutes late, sheepishly stepping inside. 

Sure enough, Asgore was there at the old table beside the garden. He perked up when Will entered, then waved him over with a broad smile. “William! Come on, you’re right on time.” “Two minutes and thirty-four seconds late, your highness.” Will said. He bowed before taking his seat, folding his real hands delicately in his lap. “I do sincerely apologize.” Asgore scoffed, pouring the scientist a cup of tea. “Nonsense. Relax, Will. I know you’ve been working hard lately.” Will pulled the cup closer with a summoned hand, then lifted it on its saucer with another, pinky out on the first. Mm. Floral. No doubt one of Asgore’s concoctions--Will knew he had been growing special varieties of a great many of his prized flowers, curated for safe consumption. “I suppose. Still, I’ll try to be here on time next week.” Asgore’s eyes twinkled from within his golden bangs. “I won’t hold you to it. Do you like the tea?” “I do. Something different today.” Will said. He sipped again. “A new batch?” “Using the yellow flowers from the Ruins.” Asgore said, nodding enthusiastically. “I find it to be nicely subtle. Careful, though, it does stain clothing.” Will smiled, setting the teacup down. “I would hate to ruin a perfectly good lab coat. You’ve outdone yourself.” “Flattery will get you another cup.” Asgore chuckled, deep and rich. He refilled Will’s cup, then sipped his own, startlingly dainty for such a large creature. “So, tell me. Did it work?” “Better than expected.” Will said, glancing out at the rainbow field of flowers. Asgore had been too busy to trim back some of them--those buttercups looked a little aggressive in their section of dirt.  “Well?” Asgore leaned forward. “Do tell.” “Honestly, your highness, I would love to.” Will shook his head. “But I’m afraid we’re still figuring out the data ourselves. I would hate to tell you something inaccurate, especially when it’s this important.” Asgore huffed, leaning back again and downing his tea. He poured himself another cup with a furrowed brow, then crossed his arms. “Are you sure there’s nothing--” “Very sure, I’m afraid, your highness.” Will said, lifting his hand from his lap palm out. “I apologize, but there’s nothing sensible to report yet.” “I suppose I’ll have to wait, then, hm?” Asgore asked. He watched Will fold his hands, then stroked his beard. “You’ll let me know first and foremost the instant you have something you’re confident in, I hope.” “Of course.” Will nodded. He sipped his tea, then grinned. “Though from what I hear, you’ve got your hands full without my help.” Asgore narrowed his eyes. “Asriel is a bit of a handful, yes.” “Oh come on, your highness. The rumors are out there. You won’t even let anything slip to me?” Will asked, his grin undaunted.  “William, you are one of my most trusted advisors. I care deeply about your thoughts on subjects far beyond science.” Asgore said. He straightened out his robe, and crossed his arms again. “You are still not privy to all of my family’s secrets. I promise that I will tell you what there is to know, when the time is right.” “I suppose I’ll have to be content with that.” Will said, with a wistful tone.  “And what of you? Your--” They were both interrupted by one of Will’s summoned hands, which suddenly pulled his buzzing phone from his pocket and worked with another to point at it. Will frowned, peering at the message on its screen, then sighed and stood. “I apologize, your highness. We’ll have to finish this conversation later. Something big at the lab.” He said, finishing his tea in one gulp and bowing again. “It was a pleasure as always.” “Of course, of course. Don’t let me keep you. Tell them how proud I am.” Asgore said, lifting his teacup in a salute. “And for stars’ sake, get some sleep, will you?” “You know how difficult that can be.” Will said, then waved as he rushed for the door. “I’ll catch back up with you later, your highness!” “And I with you!” Asgore called.  Will shut the door behind him, then frowned, re-reading the message. Something big on the timeline as they decoded it, related to the possible incident later that day. Come immediately. Potential emergency. He took the steps to the elevator two at a time, and rubbed his face as the doors closed. Great. Just. Great.