I'm gonna start off…simple. This is a re-write of TheMadYuriWriter16's story 'Undertale: Judgement'. I liked the story, but after the first couple of chapters it became painfully clear that their story was both underwritten and small in chapter size. Also, considering this was updated in April 22nd of 2016, I took it upon myself to create this- well, recreate this, actually.

Well, I mean considering this this story was originally theirs, I'm gonna have to do…THAT. Yes, THAT, the dreaded thing that every writer hates doing, the bane of a writer's existence.

A…*shivers*…Disclaimer. Ugh. I feel like vomiting after writing that.

I don't own Undertale- Toby Fox does…that magnificent bastard. Also, I don't own the original idea, either- TMYW16 does-, but I do own any deviations from the original, plus my writing style, sense of humour, and lack of wit.

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"Frisk?"

Hmm?

"what was your life like? on the surface I mean?"

Oh…it's a long story

"we have time."

-Sans to Frisk.

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Frisk's life was…normal, actually. Everything about it was normal; the food she ate- though she'd politely tell you to fuck off if you ever offered her human food- and the people she met, the experiences she had and the memories she shared with her family. Everything was normal, even the air she breathed- funnily enough- and the puns she was so obsessed with making every waking hour of every day…though she was more of a night owl anyway.

Everything about her was normal…well, except for Frisk herself. Yes, Frisk was anything but normal, but she never let that get her down, now did she? Magic instead of Determination, bones and skin with no organs or muscles in-between- but still, that never stopped her from living a normal life with a normal-ish family and a normal mother and a normal father.

Except…her dad was anything but normal. Well, being a skeleton that had somehow made it past the barrier that entombed the rest of his race beneath the mountain of Ebbot couldn't be normal by even monster standards, so to humans? To humans he was a sheer abnormality, a phenomenon that should not exist, but at the same time…he did. He'd been to the Void- the in-between of both life and death- and he'd travelled to places he still hadn't worked up the courage to properly explain to her. Sure, he'd told her, but it went right over her. The only thing she understood was something about timelines and RESETS, but again, the only thing she did understand from that was RESETTTING.

She could do that whenever she wanted to. Gaster had told her it was some sort of ability that hybrids possessed, or normal humans with abnormal amounts of Determination could wield- thankfully to a lesser extent, because the LOVE in their hearts could take them from the pure path the RESETS were meant to be used for. Or…something along those lines anyway- to be honest the only way she understood what he was talking about was that he wasn't talking.

At all…because he spoke in hands…

…hey, she knows two languages because of him, has cool magic, can teleport and can even remember timelines! That's got to offset the 'weird factor' that her father was, right?

Shrugging off that thought she stared down the hole her father had allegedly crawled out of- it was awfully deep, but she could see something gold at the bottom of the seemingly bottomless hole. Again, she thought that Gaster dragging his bony backside out of the mountain through this way was just his way of tickling her…funny bone. Hah, she needed to write a book of all the jokes she made, it was getting hard to keep track of them all.

Sighing, she turned to mirror in her hands, eyeing her pale complexion and eyeless eye sockets- two small white pinpricks rested where normal brown eyes would rest. Had Gaster not come along he had told her that she'd have inherited her mother's brown eyes- eyes that he said he wouldn't mind her having. His way of flattering her, or at least making her feel better. Her Jaw was nothing but bone, but from her ears up skin covered the rest of her face and head. Wrapping a scarf or something around her face was easy, and besides, the fact that Ebbot Village was always cold due to its close proximity with the mountain made wearing a scarf nearly all the time an easy excuse. Besides, if someone was questioning her fashion sense, she'd just give them the 'Patented Frisk Creepy Face (Trademarked, of course)'.

Ignoring the fact that her sweater was practically the same as every other kid's here, she relished in the knowledge that she had slippers instead of those stupid sneakers everyone seemed so keen on wearing. They showed off her skeletal feet and ankles, creeping people out if they did look down and exasperating her mother to no end. Though, after refusing to wear actual shoes for the seventieth time in a row, her mother finally gave up and simply asked that she try not to get them dirty.

Putting her bony hands in her pockets- skeletal for the left and human for the right- she turned around, ready to go back to the spot her family had set up for some sort of picnic they came here for. Of course she never did like human food, but if her mother cooked it, denying her wasn't an option. Neither was refusing her food even if it wasn't human food and some foolish attempt to create monster food; the woman had a heart as soft as wet cotton, so Frisk denying her anything became an impossibility, a trait she apparently shared with her father.

That man was whipped- whipped good, but she couldn't really say anything because so was she. I mean, to have a mother that's so soft inside that she'd cry if she stepped on an ant? Yeah, you'd do anything to keep that smile on her face.

Somewhere in the distance she heard a whip cracking, but ignored it.

She caught sight of a blur of black, a shove to her bone-hard chest- she'd have to remember that- and suddenly the hole her father had crawled out of- allegedly , anyway, because she still felt he was lying to her about that- was what she found herself plummeting downwards in.

She turned her head, hard to do due to the velocity that she sped towards the ground at with wind whipping and nipping at her body, and spotted a patch of golden flowers that gravity seemed eager to drag her body towards.

Sighing just before she slammed back-first into the ground, she looked upwards again.

"Well, I don't find this very humerus at all."

As her back crackled against the ground, her 99HP dropping to 9, she couldn't help the one thought that drifted through her head.

'I wonder if we're having spaghetti tonight?'

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The ground shifted around, waking Frisk from her short fall- well, more like large…gigantic…

…okay, it felt like she was falling for hours, even after her back hit the ground and she passed out. The falling feeling was still there, but perhaps that's because she was being rudely shuffled around, a hand clasping her shoulder and shaking her body roughly.

Thankfully her red scarf that her father said reminded her too much of something called a 'Papyrus' was still wrapped around her chin and lower face tightly, so all the person shaking her could see was a head of brown hair- unkempt, because Frisk never did like doing her hair- and closed eyes. Maybe they'd notice the skeletal left hand, or her bony ankles, but right now Frisk was too damn comfy on the ground. Hey, she was a pun-making, fun-loving, lazy ass skeletal human with barely any will at all to even attempt to do anything remotely resembling an activity beyond sleeping. She was like that since birth, and again Gaster said it reminded him of something to do with…font? She ignored it once more; he was weird.

Then she inhaled some pollen, and while she recognised the pollen as Buttercups, she wasn't afraid- because she was already technically dead she couldn't die again- but she was curious. Of course, cracking open an eye she glared at the obviously human figure standing over her with curiosity and worry both in her crimson eyes. Crimson eyes that Frisk found fascinating to stare into, but not fascinating enough to go on one of her father's famous 'thinking tangents'. She'd been seen doing one or two in her time when she found something that she didn't understand or that she wanted knowledge on, but thankfully nobody had actually remembered her doing them.

Sitting up abruptly, and ignoring the squeak that the human made when she shot up and obviously surprised them, Frisk looked around. "Hmm…low-hanging rock ceiling, smell of despair and terror, yellow Buttercups lying around and dying trees straight outta some sort of old horror flick…" standing, ignoring the hapless human next to her, Frisk looked around once more, breathing in dramatically as if taking in the new smell of a car, or the scent of a new house. "Yep, the Underground; looks homey."

Turning when she heard another squeak- 'seems the human finally noticed the feet', she thought amusedly- she stared into crimson eyes, her white pinpricks staring straight into her soul.

The girl on the ground was…scared- well, having just woken up from what seemed to be some sort of hundred-year long sleep, you'd be scared too. The person in front of her didn't even seem threatening to her, but you never know with the Underground; down here you can have the most grotesque monsters with hearts as soft as wool, or cute monsters with hearts as cold as ice. It was a world of Kill or Be Killed down here. Well, it was…obviously she'd been asleep for quite a while.

Or was she dead? Chara had no idea, but being in a physical body that was obviously hers, and the fact that she wasn't transparent, helped ease her mind slightly. Maybe the whole thing with Asriel was a dream, and she'd find her Mother Toriel sitting at a table waiting for her back at Home, or her father Asgore waiting to tell her the next 'great adventure' he'd come up with in his mind. And hopefully, maybe…Asriel would still be alive, and he'd still hang out with her even though she terrified him to no end, and maybe she'd help fix that somewhat-broken relationship and she could finally leave her hate for humanity behind.

Maybe…but then the memories all came rushing back…she had died, been dead for something around a hundred years- her emotions were all over the place. But she'd fix this. She'd find Toriel and hug her so hard she'd never forget her warmth, and she'd cuddle up to Asgore and listen to him ramble on and on while sipping from his admittedly good tea, or maybe…she'd visit Asriel's grave and apologise for everything she did. Everything she said and all the mean words she spouted. Apologise for being the cause of his death, for trying to pressure an obviously soft soul to harden and expect him to fight the humans above ground. Of course she was foolish in thinking that his spirit- wherever it was- would forgive her, but Chara wouldn't stop until her sins stopped crawling on her back and decided that she'd repented enough.

But first…perhaps she could start on her road of reconciliation by guiding this human-that-obviously-wasn't-a-human- I mean, humans didn't have skeletal feet and pinprick eyes with empty eye sockets, did they? No, but skeletons did, which brought up the question of 'who was the monster that she was born from?' and others such as that.

"Uh…" But, first, before she could ask anything, she'd have to introduce herself.

"Hey, having trouble introducing yourself?" at the sound of the obviously female hybrid's voice Chara simply nodded once; her mouth was dry, but not from nervousness or anything. She'd not had a drink in practically a century, so what do you expect? She could also feel her stomach rumble and her pulse jump at the faint thought of food- but she pushed it back in favour of nodding wordlessly again. "Nah, don't worry 'bout it; can't introduce myself neither."

Chara, having gotten a little bit more strength back after that, spoke up. "Well, I'm Chara; Chara Dreamurr. Somewhat-Princess of the Underground."

Frisk nodded in acceptance to the name and title- she found it quite cute to be honest; but her soul wasn't. the damn thing was practically filled with determination…enough to do RESETS. She was getting some sort of bad feeling from the- by the looks of it- year-younger kid, but eventually she sighed. If timelines could get messed up by her, then she was in no position to rattle on someone else who could mess them up too. Frisk just hoped the kid didn't mess it up any worse than she could.

"Frisk."

Chara, however, tilted her head sideways. "No last name?"

Frisk grinned beneath her scarf- this would be a good time for her. "Nah; dad never had the backbone to actually marry ma, and she never had a last name anyway. He was the 'bone to be wild' kind, found settling down a hassle- but I don't think he regretted it."

Frisk grinned some more beneath her scarf when Chara groaned in exasperation at the puns she pulled.

So, in her infinite wisdom, Frisk decided to do some more- Chara's smile, however annoying she found the puns, spurred Frisk on a little, and soon they spent about ten minutes back and forth-ing some admittedly good puns. Again, Frisk forgot to bring pen and paper with her so she could write them down for later reference, but she'd probably remember them anyway…probably.

Then, that feeling she felt from the kid came back, but it was coming from behind her, not in front- so of course she just had to stop throwing around puns and shuffle the nervous human behind her. Being half human didn't mean you thought of yourself as one- you got the best qualities from both races with none of the drawbacks, that didn't exactly make you the same as every other person you came across. In recorded history there have only been about ten or so hybrids, including her, so she could technically consider her kind a different race altogether.

Looking down, the human with their head popping over her shoulder worryingly, Frisk spotted a…flower. A flower…with a goddamned face.

"Huh. Well…don't see that on the surface."

The flower either didn't hear her or didn't care what she said, but it did gain an obviously fake smile- that feeling was back again, by the way. Dark and tingly and almost tangible. It felt viscous and reminded her of the time her dad got truly angry. There was a faint sound of static around the three of them, the feeling of dread multiplying and screaming at her to rungetawayfightandkillandobliteratethislittlemurderer- then she blinked, her eyes going back to white pinpricks from their red magical glow. That feeling really put her on edge for her to ever consider using survival instincts over logical reasoning.

The fake-smiling flower looked up at her, and fake-gasped in fake-surprise; everything about it was fake, down to the way it greeted her and its goddamn name. though for some reason she felt the flower's name wasn't a falsity at all. She actually felt kind of bad about it.

"Well, Golly! You must be new around here, aint'cha?" before Frisk could even agree or disagree- and Chara could answer- the flower continued. "Well howdy then! I'm Flowey! Flowey the Flower!"

Kneeling down, Frisk looked the flower in the eye for a full minute, trying to find out its motives to playing this obviously fake game of 'be friends'. "Flowey, eh?"

"Yep! That's me!"

"…I almost feel sorry for you." At this, Flowey's grin disappeared before coming back, just a little more nervous than before. "I mean, Flowey? What poor sod named you that uncreative name?"

"I…did…"

"Oh…"

After that riveting conversation, the flower seemed to gain its spunk back and looked at the other human besides Frisk- for some reason he hadn't made the distinction between 'human', 'monster', and 'hybrid'. Frisk was slightly upset about it, but she rolled those feelings away.

"Howdy! I'm Flo…wey…"

The human stared at the flower, the flower at the human, then they both looked at Frisk who had somehow managed to ignore them in favour of exploring a bit. Then they both looked at each other, then Frisk who was sitting in the golden flowers reading a book from who-knows-where, then back at each other, then Frisk- who had somehow gotten a chessboard and was playing it with herself.

Then, they looked at each other. "Ch-Ch-Chara…?"

Frisk was playing solo Twister when Chara replied, but soon got bored again.

"Azzy…?"

Frisk simply rolled her pinpricks when Chara hugged the flower to her stomach, both crying and weeping about 'failed plans' and 'sorry'. She ignored them- emotions weren't her thing. Guess she got that from her dad. Turning, ignoring the reuniting flower and human, she spotted something that made her, the unflappable Frisk…spit-take. It was absurd, but considering they were now surrounded by monsters of all shapes and sizes she shouldn't be too surprised about what she saw. But it was taking all of her willpower not to run up to the thing and

"I-Is that a GOAT!?"

Of course she was ignored by the reuniting couple, and of course she was heard by the…goat…thing…and of course she couldn't handle it all.

So she did what she usually does when she can't handle situations like this.

She puns. "Well, this is a baaaaad situation we've found ourselves in."

Two groans and a giggle later, and Frisk found herself liking the idea of being Underground.

But that static-y dangerous feeling from earlier? That never left.