It's a dog pet dog world.

tendergardenruler

Good. Pickiness made things a little more difficult than they needed to be, though he was used to that in young ones. Still, he was thankful it was drank up without a fuss, and went about unfolding the roll of gauze so that he could shuffle in a little closer, and gestures to the armour in request or permission to have the armour removed. *This is fair. *They weren’t given much chance… to meet anyone for long, down here. Asgore replied lightly, already working to rip open an alcohol swap and starts to dab around the arrow, trying to see how he could remove it with the least amount of pain… and hovers his hand near it like he wants to touch it’s shaft. It’s the soldier’s question that stops him cold, and his body seems to go slack or distant. *…Not much, can be done. He admits without much hesitation, eyes focused on the wound wholly. *Humans are rather divided. Their goals, their beliefs can rise and mast and change on their whims. *Just as soon as they could rally to protect us, they could rally to destroy us… Asgore’s massive hands wind a little more firmly around the items in his hands, like they tethered him down. His soft eyes flick up to his ally’s. *My rule has not yet been established above, as royalty no longer serves a purpose. *They have Prime Ministers, as leaders.

The soldier obligingly removed his armor to make it easier for the other monster to work. His white fur only served to emphasize the bloody mess, and as past experience may or may not have dictated, the arrowheads this particular group used were rather wicked and barbed. Getting it out was going to be painful, there was little escaping it.

Perhaps fortunately, the guard was distracted from the state of his own wound; from the look he gave his leader, he seemed far more worried about the mental wounds and scars left behind by these people on the other monster before him. 

On instinct, he lowered a white furred paw to the larger goat’s shoulder. “Whatever must be done, we are with you, Your Highness,” he says softly, “I am sure of it. I will follow whatever orders you give, but I hope you will let us help you. It sounds like the world above needs your leadership as much as the world we live in,” he went on, and went quiet before concluding, “even if they won’t admit it.” He left the somewhat dark implication unspoken.

tendergardenruler

Asgore only grimly nodded, adjusting his grip around the other’s waist as they shuffled closer to the little chamber beside the throne room, and stopped to help lean the other onto the wall before sitting him on the guard’s stool. *Their greed, is their crux. *The struggle in humans, is that their hearts seem to be more easily overpowered by negative vices than ours. *Selfishness, Greed, Vanity, Cruelty, Fear, Haughtiness…. Asgore only shook his head with deeply ingrained disappointment, sitting up to leave, parting the doors to pass the coffins hidden within and snatch up the first aid kit hidden there. He was quickly back at a moment’s notice. *There is more evil known to us than good, in Human Kind. *But it does not mean, that they are without kindness. *Frisk, has shown us this. He continued softly, knealing down to the ground to part open the kit, and offers up a pain killer in liquid form. Made it easier to swallow, and he managed a half smile at it. *It’s lime flavoured.

While reluctant still, the wounded guard accepted the aid from the other monster without complaint or comment, steadying himself once on the stool and nodding to let the other know that he was okay on his own for the moment.

The lupine lifted his nose as the king made his way through those doors; he couldn’t place the scent he picked up from the room beyond, but it seemed out of place for the underground.

Upon the larger monster’s return, the soldier nodded and held out his paw for the liquid. “At this point I don’t think I’m feeling terribly picky, Your Highness,” he said, closing his eyes as a brief dizzy spell overtook him for a moment. What had been on those arrows he didn’t know. Nothing that couldn’t be undone, he hoped.

“So I had heard about the human child, but I know little of them, or any of the others that are said to have made their way here,” he commented.

                      If    WE     don’t end 

                              WAR,

                                       war 

                                          WILL

                                                                  end

                                                         US.

                                                     APPLY

tendergardenruler

Of course there would be more monsters out there. There was always the risk of exposure on the surface, and many monsters knew that. Still, Asgore shuddered, and kept moving himself forward. His poor ally was so out of sorts, and caught his own salival slip before he was invited to. Okay. The soldier was priority right now. Even the joke… Heh. Asgore tucked his head to have a little chuckle. *Alright, I won’t… name anything. Though he continues to heft and walk the Lupine warrior along, turning the hall towards the med kit he knows he has nearby. *Instead, I can instruct you on more history… *Though not much need be said. The Morugan always prioritized money and fame over life, and made a reputation out of achieving the most incredible treasures and feats possible. *They found collecting monster dust a fun hobby… even during the war times.

The soldier outright shivered upon hearing the additional history being introduced. In this case, fortunately, not a signal of deteriorating health, but one borne of an ugly memory re-surfacing. “One of them commented on my “pretty white fur,”” the wounded lupine recounted. “I thought it was a compliment. Then one of them said “Yeah, it’s a shame.” I didn’t quite understand until now what he must have meant. Dust...” he said, and then covered his muzzle to cough again, his weight briefly becoming more heavy against his king as his own legs struggled to hold up the weight of his own body.

“Are they all so greedy, Your Highness?” he asked, ears folding down. “I have heard so many terrible things about the humans, it is so easy to hate them. But others have said good things, and yet others have said that we must always be the merciful ones. The Qu-” he began, and then all but bit his tongue, not wanting to remind the king of the lonely nature of his own castle.

tendergardenruler

There is. He sat with them so many times, begged and commanded and threatened at times with consequences, yet… the elder brother seemed to be uncaring for the laws. The aggression he felt in his breast was layered with cold as he worked again and again to change his focus. *No, you will not. His tone brooks for no argument, though he’s talking quickly after already as his eyes study the fletching, and the red stained wood that was not blood. Those Morugan humans were utterly cruel, even now. *First, we’re going to stitch you up and then have you rest. No monster will fall under my watch. He shifts himself a little bit, bringing his arm beneath the lupine’s own to offer the support to start walking inside. It was critical to get him treated as soon as possible. *The Morugan people are vengeful and filled with toxic hatred, directed even towards their own kind. *It would be best to make sure of your health before we do anything of the matter…

“Your... Your Highness?” the soldier asked, voice suddenly an octave higher out of fear. Fear of being removed from his post and assignment gripped the duty-bound lupine, said lupe already smarting from his failure to successfully keep the peace.

It almost seemed as though he was going to bolt from the room right there, though as the ruler moved in to aid him in moving, he remained transfixed in place, and then followed along, considering the offered help to be a tacit command from his king.

After the first few steps, he homed in on a detail - the goat had said “we” do anything, and he wasn’t the type to use the royal “we”. 

“I... understand, Your Highness. Just be aware that there are other monsters out there, I saw tracks. Perhaps,” he started, and then shuddered. Much to his chagrin, he realized he had started to drool while speaking, and he quickly reached an arm up to wipe it away on his forearm, not noticing at first that his own spittle was flecked with red. 

“I defer to your judgment of course. So long as naming something is not involved. With all due respect,” the soldier stated. If he remembered later what he’d just said in his lightheaded haze, he’d be mortified, but for now he felt compelled to try and bring a little levity to the situation, even if briefly.

You are not welcome by Rumay-Chian

I still don’t see why some Toriels hang out with him. He’s a little…

naiya-of-waterfall

(She gave another hiss, this one an irritated one. It was now or never. Without hesitating, she charged at her target, ready to pounce and sink her long fangs into whatever they found first. Whether it be arm, neck or shoulder, if she bit down hard enough almost nothing was going to make her let go.)

He may have been wary, but even being ready, it was quite another thing to have a furious hissing bat launching out of the darkness and seemingly bent on causing him monstrous bodily harm.

He got an arm up to defend himself, and howled loudly in pain as those fangs punctured fur and skin and dug deeply into flesh.

tendergardenruler

He hated the condition his ally found himself in. The poor male looked utterly worn, and yet the soldier still tried to keep form and strength. Enough to even try and defend themselves against what had happened- *P-Please, take it easy…! Asgore’s hand hovers near, like he wanted to try and choke the spot to keep it from bleeding further. His eyes are trained to the fletching, trying to process it’s likeness. *The humans, they attacked you? *But the treaty…! The arrow finally clicks. Of course, these loathsome beasts wouldn’t respect customs and monster protection. His face goes very sour and detached, already drawing up minor healing magic to staunch the wound as best he can manage it. *Morugan tribe. Of course. The words are muttered quite bitterly, like he’d spit next to purify his mouth.

The lupine smiled wearily. “I would say that perhaps this group will need a reminder about the treaty, if there is one, Your Highness,” he said.

The smile was gone almost as soon as it appeared. “I will need to get stitched up, but I will set back out to try and track them down, to try and make this right,” he stated firmly, though he closed his eyes for a moment and swayed on his feet briefly before catching himself once more on the door frame. “Possibly after a short rest as well.”

He inclined his head curiously after that last statement. “If I might ask, what is your history with this group? Is there something I should know when I deal with them?”

✣ bringing them food

overbearing-goat-mom

> With one last shriek, Toriel laid there in the snow, recovering from her failure of giving this imbecile a good FIGHT. Her face scrunched up from the freezing temperatures touching her sensitive nuzzle, and tried to concentrate. With a quick flick of her wrists, she set the ropes on fire, letting them slowly burn so that she herself wouldn’t be scorched.

“Dignity? That’s a term I haven’t heard in ages…”

After a couple of moments, the rope fell to the snow in a pile of suet. The doe got up with surprising grace, rubbing her wrists, followed by cracking her knuckles.

“It annoys me at how ignorant you are about Snowdin, let alone the entire underground.”

“In this world, nobody cares about how they ACT. A monster’s respect to others died along with the war.”

Another flick of her wrists, and balls of flames erupted from the palm of her hands.

“In this world…”

“I T ‘ S  K I L L E D  O R  B E  K I L L E D .”

It had started off so well, but the sight of magic had startled him, and the soldier jumped back to watch as she burned the bindings away. His scowl was deep as he watched her rise, but he didn’t have it in him to stab her in the back as she got up, his respect for her former position enough to keep him still, perhaps.

When the fireballs appeared, out came his sword, several feet of sharp metal that reflected the flickering flame from her own hands, though the blade was broken off at the end, some amount of it clearly missing.

The lupine flinched at hearing that phrase, something about it setting his hackles up, his teeth on edge. Maybe that was for the best, as it distracted him from the fear that had begun welling up. Him, a guard of the lowest order, staring across the battlefield at her, the former Queen of the Underground.

“I am the ignorant one? This from the one who was banished to the ruins in disgrace?” he asked, rhetorically of course. “Perhaps your outlook is not so widely shared by the rest of us as you would like to think. A ruler would certainly realize that she had the power to foster a society based on respect, and not just spit out platitudes that she could hide behind.”

[ * Nothing quite as mysterious and creepy as following a trail of drippings and the sound of groaning. Luckily, that haunting feeling would be broken by the sight of a creature that was in such a sorry state that a proper descriptor would require a 6-week validation process ] 

H….h…h…

hello…

[ * His voice was a mess. Every part of it sounded exhausted, drained and lifeless. Under it was the faint undercurrent of hospitality, though similar to lemonade with too little syrup, the earnest try sounded more pathetic and depressing than the upbeat tone it wanted to be. ]

[ * The robe on the floor was a mess. Tears, stains, scuffmarks. It’s seen more in a day than it did in a lifetime. Even now, it already reeked of a fate worse than death. Judging by the mess inside the tub, that’s understandable. ] 

I…i am sorry… f-foorrrr th… -ess. 

torielgoatdad

Then again… parasympathic system… restorative… digestion… low energy…

[ * Torien tried to relax,even with the other pushing down on his irregular chest, making it a little stiff to breathe. Meanwhile, the wolf could feel the multitude of heartbeats, small, rapid pulses akin to the galloping of horses, with the strongest heartbeat being like the stomping of a slow elephant. ]

Hm… bacon.. strongest chemical agitators…

Not privy to much… something grilled sounds good… salty… crusty… nice firm bite…

[ * Torien took a few deep breaths and moved his fingers. Maybe if he tried his best could at least pull himself back up. His hand landed on the edge of the tub, before the fingers clenched and pressed into the sides, trying to get a grip to lift the rest of himself up. ]

[ * As inches of his body started to pull up, strands of goo broke off of his skin. Below where he lied, there was a thing filament of dust, a thin, shed skin creating a dazzling display of chromic reflections. ]

[ * While the dripping, dusting nature was enough reason for concern, there was a clear hint that is was starting to slow down, as the severity of the injuries no longer overtook the speed of recovery. Even with all parts attached, it was a sight to make any monster shiver, if only a passing one ]

The wolf chuckled softly. “Either you’re inviting me out on a date or trying to send me out to Grillby’s. You don’t strike me as a burger person. BLT maybe?” he asked. “You’re right, there aren’t too many problems bacon can’t cure. Cured meat, curative... hah.”

He gave up trying the humor thing, as once again, it wasn’t really his forte. His hands were held out, and his ears twitched, as did his lips; he wanted to help, but he also recognized what it was like to try and move under one’s own power, and wanted to give the other monster that chance if he could manage.

Right up until he saw the dust in the base of the tub. His breath caught with a short audible gasp, and he leaned in close, wrapping the other in a steadying embrace as though expecting the rest of him to fade into dust at any moment, or worried that even a mild slip and a whack on the head could be the difference between survival, and the unthinkable alternative.

“There you go. You’re gonna make it now, we’re through the worst of it.” It seemed like the thing to say. “Don’t push yourself too much. You’ve got to survive for that sandwich, right?”

               * “It is… somewhat elating, is it not?”

It was clear that the wounds inflicted by Frisk hadn’t yet healed, and they likely would never. Toriel still bore her own scars, many of which were many decades or centuries old.

He turned, giving the goat a little privacy for the moment, looking off in the direction he believed Snowdin to be, not that he could see it through the walls. He tucked his hands behind his back as he stared off thoughtfully and waxed philosophical.

|| Meme Here || Accepting!

               * “Surely you do not really wish                    to have a kiss from such an                    old goat. I will humor you, but                    being that we are acquaintances                    I have my reservations.”

“Of... course,” he said, a bit awkwardly, dipping his muzzle in a nod of thanks as he straightened back to his formal stance. “In honor of the season, and the fact that someone is still decorating despite all that has happened, it seemed appropriate to respect tradition and keep them alive.”

[ * Nothing quite as mysterious and creepy as following a trail of drippings and the sound of groaning. Luckily, that haunting feeling would be broken by the sight of a creature that was in such a sorry state that a proper descriptor would require a 6-week validation process ] 

H….h…h…

hello…

[ * His voice was a mess. Every part of it sounded exhausted, drained and lifeless. Under it was the faint undercurrent of hospitality, though similar to lemonade with too little syrup, the earnest try sounded more pathetic and depressing than the upbeat tone it wanted to be. ]

[ * The robe on the floor was a mess. Tears, stains, scuffmarks. It’s seen more in a day than it did in a lifetime. Even now, it already reeked of a fate worse than death. Judging by the mess inside the tub, that’s understandable. ] 

I…i am sorry… f-foorrrr th… -ess. 

torielgoatdad

T-trying to… … … hit oh me…

Ha… ha.

Jokes… mental defence… traumatic denial… good for keeping awake… the dangers of… anaesthetics.

[ * Torien’s breathed turned irregular for a moment, followed by a jolted cough. His entire body convulsed in response. He lifted an arm up, making a noise not until when one pulls slime from ceramic, and placed said arm over his eyes ]

S…nger this…

Can take… hectometres… rockside.

They… the fall that… but… different… time.

[ * Torien seemed to fade in and out of lucidity, as evidented that it took a few good beats before he registered the request. His response was a pathetic laugh, followed by his arm pulled away from his head, once again giving that eerie sound of pulled adhesive ]

Know… of them… makes it hard… tell apart… many dialects… sign.. guage… no consistency…

Imagine… entirely different… just a few… cities away.

[ * The patient didn’t even seem to notice the warm paw pressing onto his chest. His heartbeat was quite slow, far below what it reasonable could be to sustain itself. Yet, that was only the strongest pulse. Below it seemed to be several smaller heartbeats, normally masked by the overbearing rhythm of the strongest ]

D…worrymuch…

experat… scarremoval…battlefield…

Couldgofor… a quick bite… then again…

balanceof… resource acquisition… vs… spend… restoration…

another reason for… intravenous… nutrient ingestion…

[ * His head reared onto the edge of the tub, where another heavy groan fell out of his lungs. ]

If only the roles were reversed, the trained surgeon would be dealing with the problem, and the thug would be getting treated properly. Instead it was the layman handling a problem way over his head, and the other’s life was at risk.

In the quiet moment, the guard turned his head slightly at an angle, more than a bit puzzled at what he was feeling. At first he thought it was the wounded goat’s heart going into severe arrhythmia, but he pressed a touch more firmly and spread out his fingers, picking up that something was amiss, but this wasn’t the result of trauma. Or at least, not this one. Investigating that would have to wait.

“We shall have to go and get a good meal after this, yes. Any favorites you would fancy? For me, little compares to the scent from meat on the grill,” he went on, trying to stimulate all the goat’s senses to keep him going.

tendergardenruler

Asgore’s sensitive ears catch upon it, lifting his head from his hunched work over moving stone and brick from the corner of the room here. It felt familiar yet unfamiliar all at once, and slowly his head turns as the person in question enters, braced to the door… He’s already up though, hearing the voice and smelling the scent of monster blood. *An Inci- Are you alright? Asgore bleats nervously, already ripping his gloves from his hands to toss them down to the flower bed as he’s already tearing up towards the entry where the soldier’s prone body was hunched over. He was worried, very worried, and hovered his hand out to the injured being’s shoulder to offer support. *What has happened? *Do you require aid? He rasps quickly, rapidly, already looking to the arrow most of all and… fretting deeply. What had happened?

“I’m sorry,” the weary voice said, the latter part followed by a breathy pant from the armored soldier, it was clear some exhaustion was setting in. It was equally clear that here, in the presence of the king, he was trying desperately to stay strong, even forcing himself to stand at attention despite a pained flinch after rising from his hunched posture. He couldn’t hide the thin trail of coppery-scented crimson that had snaked down the outside of his leg and was starting to form a tiny little pool to the side of his boot.

His paw extended out, perhaps about to accept that offer for help. No, the hand stayed in a closed fist, fingers down.

[ * Nothing quite as mysterious and creepy as following a trail of drippings and the sound of groaning. Luckily, that haunting feeling would be broken by the sight of a creature that was in such a sorry state that a proper descriptor would require a 6-week validation process ] 

H….h…h…

hello…

[ * His voice was a mess. Every part of it sounded exhausted, drained and lifeless. Under it was the faint undercurrent of hospitality, though similar to lemonade with too little syrup, the earnest try sounded more pathetic and depressing than the upbeat tone it wanted to be. ]

[ * The robe on the floor was a mess. Tears, stains, scuffmarks. It’s seen more in a day than it did in a lifetime. Even now, it already reeked of a fate worse than death. Judging by the mess inside the tub, that’s understandable. ] 

I…i am sorry… f-foorrrr th… -ess. 

torielgoatdad

[ * Torien seemed much too out of it. He waggled his finger suggestively, though the fact his hand hung, mostly limp, over the lip of the bath just made it seem like the shakings of gravity. ]

Tsk… tsk… If I… had… guts… pull though…. wouldn’t… no more.

Can’t… ve… the decen… to die.

[ * His breathing grew ever troubled as he tried to prod himself back up. The minor moment of respite had caused whatever adrenaline carried him here to fade away. Even his chest felt too heavy to breathe ]

Fell… fell… tripped… fell.

Couldn’t… mirror…

Forgot… take… ugh…

[ * His mind was so clouded he hardly noticed the missing words and broken language. To him, it was all fine. He barely even felt the other strapping down parts ]

Never leave… a torniquette… long… necrosis sets… after just…

…wound with iodine… alcohol… sterile water… used maggots… supposedly… only dead flesh…

[ * Hearing the noise of troubled breathing, mixed with the semi-coherent ramblings of a man casually lounging over the edge of death, is not really something a soldier was trained for. Maybe the snark of a man ready to die for his cause, or the whimperings of a scared recruit. But not a fellow so amicable to the thought of dying he thought to strike an intellectual conversation with it ]

…surgeon… mostly… and shrapnel…

I remembuhw… ears… blown… loud…. sign language… could tallll-k…

Orfan… lik-uh me… excccccceh-puh-t… me…

Ahah…hah…ha…

[ * His eyes drifted up to the ceiling. Why did he even bother to come here at all? Now he was just taking up space, making a mess, and ruining a person’s day. Wasn’t that the reason he went out in the first place? ]

“Don’t.”

It was a simple statement, a command really, delivered firmly, a stone wrapped in soft cloth. Were the goat to slip away, the soldier would be quite cross with him, that much was clear from his tone, and the stern gaze from his light green eyes. One paw cupped the wounded monster’s face, firmly at first, and then it stroked back once from the side of his mouth to his cheek and patted gently. Being tender wasn’t really his strength, but a horribly wounded and possibly dying man deserved a little comfort.

“You will have to remind me when I need to take the tourniquet off then,” he went on, in a more normal voice as he continued his work. It was quite true, this was not why he was petitioning for the Royal Guard, but he had a knack for turning off parts of his mind when duty demanded it. Plus there was the fact that he had a significant measure of respect for this monster and the service he’d done to his people, and it was enough to drive him to deal with this little problem he’d encountered as best he could. First aid he was trained for, and while what he was dealing with was well beyond him, he was at least staunching the bleeding, hopefully long enough to find someone who could really help.

[ * Nothing quite as mysterious and creepy as following a trail of drippings and the sound of groaning. Luckily, that haunting feeling would be broken by the sight of a creature that was in such a sorry state that a proper descriptor would require a 6-week validation process ] 

H….h…h…

hello…

[ * His voice was a mess. Every part of it sounded exhausted, drained and lifeless. Under it was the faint undercurrent of hospitality, though similar to lemonade with too little syrup, the earnest try sounded more pathetic and depressing than the upbeat tone it wanted to be. ]

[ * The robe on the floor was a mess. Tears, stains, scuffmarks. It’s seen more in a day than it did in a lifetime. Even now, it already reeked of a fate worse than death. Judging by the mess inside the tub, that’s understandable. ] 

I…i am sorry… f-foorrrr th… -ess. 

What should have been some form of relief that this broken body was alive was more shocking than anything, seeing the form start moving again caused his heart to stop, if only to skip a beat. Or two.

Soldier. Get to work. He’s still alive. Do something or that’s not going to be the case for long. Move it.

The voice of training eventually spurred him to motion, and shut off his horrified emotions enough for Rho to set to his work. His armored gloves joined his weapon on the floor before he snatched a towel in a bunched fist, moving to kneel next to the tub so he could start cleaning up the victim inside.