#snafved

                     This reality was far different than any other he had encountered in his travels. Sure, his machine, his CREATION, was grand, but was it capable of twisting timelines? Or setting up new ones for that matter? It was only shortly after the royal scientist had revealed his creation to his queen on her demand (GODS that woman worried too much. They were only cracks! No matter the deepness.) that their world was turned completely and utterly upside down.

                      Upon exiting his laboratory, the people of Hotlands began to refer to the two as a couple, to which extended into his home in Snowdin and so on. Come to find out that, in this timeline, Gaster and Toriel were…

                      Married.

                      As was proven by the silver band adorning his left ringfinger.

                      Initial shock took over as the man glanced to his—wait, was she even queen in this reality?—Toriel for a moment. Shaking his head and ignoring the comments made by the townspeople, Gaster took his “wife’s” hand and led her inside his home. Settling down once inside, the skeletal man began to speak:

                      ‘ Toriel. I’ve not the faintest idea of what or how this reality has come to be. Neither of us entered the machine, nor was it turned on! I’ve used it many times in the past, I admit, but this timeline has never once occurred before! If it is your wish, I will find a way to get us back IMMEDIATELY. ‘

In truth, Toriel found it hard to be in good mirth, though it was amusing in some capacity that the machine would displace them in such a way. The situation as a whole, however, proved itself quietly horrific.

(Someone was ｍｉｓｓｉｎｇ.)

Despite her unrelenting dread, the monster kept her spine straight and chin high, greeting all those that recognized her with warmth and attention. Her paw did not even shake to hold the phalanges of Gaster: for all intents and purposes, Toriel was at home in the universe, her conduct implying that the only thing amiss could be the slightest chill she received from the air.

Ducking her head to fit into the humble abode her companion had led her to, Toriel found herself blindsided by how much information Gaster was trying to communicate to her: anxiety caused her to absentmindedly snap her fingers within her sleeve, flames coming alive for but an instant before flickering out--a nervous habit that hadn't plagued her in years.

                                           is he                             (where                ?)                                          are they

"Gaster," she murmured, keeping her tone level instead of allowing it to hitch with panic, "I believe that if you knew how to reverse this situation in a timely manner, you would have done so by now." She had to remain calm: likewise, she needed the doctor sharp, not scrambling to provide some barely-satisfactory excuse to her questions. "I must implore you to breathe: you are well-versed in returning to the 'time' you came from, yes? I have no doubt that you will be able to solve this."

[text] Lady Toriel,

                      I assure you, my skull is holding up just fine. The pain has long since died. As for my soul, well, I doubt anything of the sort would happen.

                      If so, the next royal scientist would have more knowledge of the subject than I.

                      Come by whenever you wish, I will even go to the castle and escort you if you like. You could sit in on a couple of experiments if you so choose.

                      Best regards,

                      W.D. Gaster, RS. 

Send “%” for a CURIOUS text.  || Accepting

                       ‘ LADY TORIEL, please, don’t worry. They are merely just – ‘ Gaster needed to come up with a lie, quick. He needn’t worry the queen, after all.

                      ‘ –scratches. They are scratches, my lady. ‘ Not technically a lie–they WERE scratched, just very…deep ones. 

"Gaster," the queen choked, horror etched into the lines of her face, her eyes, her breath--

"Your skull is splitting ａｐａｒｔ."

Such injury dashes away the common senses and decency the queen possessed, her large paws already shaking upwards. The pad of one thumb touches the ridge 'pon his left cheek; the sensation makes her shiver, pupils dilating noticeably.