17:4
"U-um, M-M-Mr. Dreemurr, sir, um, y-you have a p-phone call, sir!"
An annoyed sigh erupted from the massive monster, who had been sitting peacefully in his leather desk chair. That is, until the nervous chattering of his secretary came from the speaker of his office phone. He had only just gotten comfortably; not even halfway through his first cup of Golden Flower Tea, or having taken a single bite of his butter biscuit. Having to deal with such a busy schedule on a daily basis only made his tea time all the more necessary, and any kind of interruption was simply intolerable.
"Now, Alphys, what have I told you about disturbing me during my regimens?" he answered back through the phone, his voice deep and rugged. His secretary, timid as she was, was usually good when it came to managing calls and messages during the hours when he was unavailable. Which is why this also came as a surprise to her employer as to why this time was so different.
"I-I'm sorry, Mr. Dreemurr, sir!" Alphys apologized frantically, sounding far more intimidated than usual, "I-i-it's just, um, w-well-"
"Spit it out, Alphsy," he ordered, dabbing his hairy lips with his napkin, "You're not a broken record!"
"She i-insisted that you would a-accept her call!" she managed to get out, her boss' attitude giving her enough motivation to deliver the message.
"Well, insist to her that if she leaves a message, I'll be sure to get back to her the moment I'm available." the lofty beast commanded, taking another sip of his tea to comfort his nerves.
"I, um, tried that already," the secretary explained to him, sounding hopeless, "S-she had some rather 'crude' things to say about that." He sighed feeling rather defeated, sitting there arguing about it was only going to cost him more of his precious time.
"Put her on." He ordered, leaning back in his chair. He planned to make this quick; settle whatever the matter was and get back to his momentary relaxation. "This is Asgore Dreemurr, what can I do for you?" he asked, having been cued by the click of the switching lines.
"I'd suggest you start by reprimanding your assistant, but I've already taken the liberty of saving you the trouble." an all too familiar feminine voice answered on the other line. Asgore nearly choked on his sip of tea, as he was desperate to respond to the woman he knew was on the other end of the call.
"Tor-Tori," he exclaimed through a fit of coughs, catching his breath, "It's been too long."
"Ms. Toriel," the woman corrected him, a strictness to her tone, "And it hasn't been long enough." Any hopes that the boss monster had in that instance were immediately shattered by those words alone, and he groaned internally.
"My apologies, Ms. Toriel," he cooperated, "I take it you're doing well?" The long pause followed by an audible sigh on the other line contradicted what he'd expected to hear.
"If I were, I wouldn't be on the phone with you now, would I?" Ms. Tori suggested.
"I reckon not," Asgore answered, as he stood from his chair and began pacing around his small office, "What can I help you with?"
"Well, I'm having a hard time turning a profit with my bookstore-" Toriel explained.
"Say no more," Asgore interrupted, pulling a checkbook and pen out of his purple suit jacket's inside pocket, "Just say the amount and I'll have Alphys mail you a check."
"Excuse me, but I think you have me confused for someone else," the female monster replied, sounding offended, "If I were looking for a handout, we wouldn't be having this conversation." This only left the large monster puzzled and somewhat embarrassed for having assumed such a thing. Of course, if she wanted money she could've went to the skeletons over in Snowdin.
"Very well, what would you have me to do?" he insisted, knowing now to listen before speaking.
"As I was saying, I'm having trouble turning a profit with my bookstore," Toriel continued, "Given the location, it's a tad obscure to the average consumer. But, seeing that you have connections with the Underground's hottest star, I was hoping that you could arrange some kind of advertisement for me."
"Advertisement," Asgore repeated to himself, figuring it to be a reasonable enough request, "Consider it done. Now, if we could meet to go over the details-"
"Toriel's World of Knowledge & Wonder," Ms. Tori cut him off before he could go any further, "1115 Steam Lane, the Ruins. Thank you for your time, Mr. Dreemurr, and enjoy the rest of your evening." And with that, the woman's voice was replaced with the audible dial tone.
"Same to you." the bearded monster exhaled, ending the call on his end as well. Even though her bitterness was still ever so present, he couldn't help but take some joy away from her call. It'd been so long since he'd heard her voice, that even screams of hatred were like a choir of angels singing in perfect harmony. The silence was what killed him. He'd rather hear her rant and ramble, curse at him, and call him every name in the book, than to hear nothing at all.
And she knew that, and that's exactly what she wanted.
He looked upon the portrait that hung from his wall; the portrait of his family. Him and his queen, fresh and ripe in their youth. Underground royalty, having clawed their way to the top. They earned the love, respect, and admiration of every monster that lived in "their" kingdom. And they were happy to share their wealth and power with the two men that stuck beside them during their long fought battle for supremacy. The small, rigged, tortoise that stood to their left, and the tall, pasty, gentleman in black that stood to their right.
Oh, how he'd change since that day. The once young, slim, and neatly trimmed goat dressed in purple was now older, heavier, and hairier around the face. The king that held the hand of his queen now had no hand to hold. The kingdom he ruled increased, but the family he loved so much decreased. Oh, what he would do to change that, but it was far too late for that now. He'd already failed his family, but he wouldn't fail his people.
"Ya gonna ask her out, or ya just gonna sit there starin' like a creepa'?" the young tortoise asked, nudging the young goat monster.
"Ask who out?" Asgore questioned, pretending to be clueless.
"Don't play dumb with me, flea bag," the tortoise said, backhanding the other monster on the arm, "The dame at the end of the bar ya been eyein' all night."
"Shut up," the goat murmured a growl, trying his best to hide his face, "Don't let her hear you!" He briefly glanced out of the corner of his eye at the monster that sat at the far corner of the counter, somewhat relieved that she hadn't noticed them. She just sat there, enjoying her drink and scribbling away in her text book. Looking so ravishing in her plum belted dress and matching heels. Her ruby eyes glistening in the dim bar, and a shine that reflected from her silky, clean, white, fur made it seem as though she was glowing. Almost like and angel from Heaven. Or a goddess.
"C'mon, Gorey, mingle with the nice gal," his reptilian friend encouraged him, "Worst she could do is say no!"
"I don't have time for a relationship, Gerson," Asgore explained, trying to come up with any excuse to not humiliate himself, "I got far too much on my plate as is."
"Bullshit!" Gerson exclaimed, which only caused his larger friend to shush him frantically.
"Gentlemen." A tall pale man greeted the two in a smooth, raspy, voice, as he sat down next to Asgore.
"Gaster." the large monster returned, nodding before looking to the flaming bartender, "Cosmopolitan."
"Who died?" Gerson asked, referencing Gaster's black attire.
"Half of your brain cells," the pale man answered, straightening his glasses, "It's made more tragic knowing that you were born with very few to begin with."
"Can't argue with that." the tortoise sighed in defeat.
"Namely because you lack the mental capability." Gaster added, as he lit himself a cigarette. His remark earned a laugh from Asgore.
"Ain'tcha late gettin' here?" Gerson asked, trying to change the subject.
"I had a lecture on quantum field theory," the man in black explained, "After that, I had dinner with the misses, took Sans to nightcare, handled that thing from last night, and made a delivery to the butcher's." The bartender sat the dark blue drink with the glittering white specks in it in front of Gaster, who gladly took a sip.
"Ya see that?" Gerson said, gesturing to Gaster.
"Stay away from the bologna." Gaster added, taking another small sip of his drink.
"The guy's got a wife and a kid-"
"Two kids." Gaster corrected the tortoise.
"Ey, mazel tov!" the tortoise congratulated him, Asgore doing the same, "Anyway, a wife and two kids, and he's still got enough time for the business."
"What are we discussing?" Gaster questioned, realizing he'd come in late to their conversation.
"Our furry pal here's been makin' googly eyes at a certain lady a couple seats down from us." Gerson took the liberty of explaining the situation. Gaster turned and saw the female they were referring to, examining her closely.
"Hmm, yes, she is quite the specimen." he commented, turning back to his drink.
"I feel like you could've worded that differently." Asgore replied, rolling his eyes.
"She's a lovely lady," He rephrased his previous comment, "Why don't you go speak to her?"
"Been tryin' to get 'em to do that all night," Gerson informed, as the goat monster slouched forward on the counter, "He ain't budged an inch."
"I believe our friend here's feeling self-conscious." Gaster remarked, looking across to Gerson. Asgore didn't respond, as he knew he couldn't hide it from them.
"What's the matter with you?" Gerson asked him, not believing what he was hearing, "You're a good lookin' fella! Yer strong, ya got a good head on yer shoulders, ya got the biggest the heart! What girl wouldn't want ya?"
"You flirtin' with me, Ger?" Asgore replied, pretending to be wooed.
"And seeing you're both of the same race, your chances of a successful partnership increase exponentially." Gaster added on to Gerson reasoning.
"Does everything have to be scientific and technical with you?" Asgore turned to Gaster, but noticed someone talking to the lady at the end of the bar. A well built seahorse appeared to be hitting on her, but she didn't look to be swayed. In fact she looked rather annoyed by his advances. Asgore narrowed his eyes, as he stood up from his stool.
"Where ya goin'?" the tortoise asked, but received no answer, "Gorey?" The two watched as Asgore moved across the bar towards the two at the other end.
"Look, how many time do I have to tell you that I'm just not interested?" the young female monster groaned, irritated by the pestering seahorse. The seemingly self obsessed merhorse only ignored her rejection, as he continued to flex his chiseled physique.
"Once," Asgore took it upon himself to answer on the seahorse's behalf, "And that's why you're going to apologize to the nice lady for bothering her, right, Aaron?" The seahorse looked up at Asgore, who only stared down at him menacingly.
"Uh, yeah, sure!" Aaron agreed, a chill going down his back as he recognized the larger monster, "S-sorry 'bout that, ma'am, you have a lovely evenin'!" He was quick to rush off, as Asgore looked at the young female before him, somewhat awestruck.
"You alright, miss?" He asked. The young goat girl looked up at Asgore, her heart racing in excitement.
"Yes, thank you." She answered, smiling. Asgore couldn't help but return the smile, as he extended his hand to her.
"I'm Asgore." He introduced himself, the young woman accepting his hand and shaking it.
"Toriel," She returned, her ruby eyes looking into the other monster's violet ones, "But most people just call me Tori."
"Well, most people call me Gorey." He added.
"Or King Fluffybuns!" Gerson called from across the bar, causing Asgore to immediately cringe.
"King Fluffybuns?" Toriel snickered, trying so hard not to burst out laughing. Asgore couldn't begin to explain how embarrassed and humiliated he felt at that moment, nor his burning desire to strangle his tortoise friend. "What's that all about?"
"It's, uh, a long story." Asgore informed, feeling as though he should just run away with the little dignity he had left.
"Well, tell it to me," she insisted, patting the seat next to her. In a way, he couldn't believe what he was hearing, but that doesn't mean he wasn't oh so willing to comply. And so he did, and the two of them talked the night away.
He admired the woman in the painting, the one draped in scarlet and gold. She was his goddess, and he worshiped the very ground that she walked upon. He showered her with gold and fine jewelry, nothing was too expensive for her. He built her a mansion, with many rooms for her to dwell in. He gave her his life, and she gave him hers.
And now, she wouldn't take a penny from him.
Asgore returned to his desk, picking up the phone and dialing a number. "Yes, this is Asgore Dreemurr," He informed, "Is Mettaton available to speak?"