When There's a Whip, There's a Way: Remastered

by GreaterAxelord

The Bloodline had been tainted, cursed. Redemption was assumed to be well beyond the means of Richter after the atrocities he had committed under the control of the Dark Magician Shaft. But Fate gave him one more chance, one final attempt to reconcile with the past. (This is the remastered and remade version of my old story posted here, progress is ported from my AO3 Account)

8. Chapter 7 - Somber Escapades

So maybe the mess in his room was worse than he had initially thought. He could blame the dark for hiding that fact, or maybe that he simply had been too caught up in the life he was barreling towards at full speed. He did seem to have a penchant for ignoring and missing the obvious when wrapped up in work. That's what it was, work. The Village Project was on a scale completely unheard of to the Belmont previously. He had helped build villages, sure, but he never orchestrated the plans. He was just the hired help sought after by others because of his brawn. Now he was responsible for overseeing practically a new society. It shook him to his core. If he was in a better mood, he would say he was moving up in the world. Something about packing up his belongings after overstaying his welcome happened to kill the mood. A piece of parchment here, a scroll with inane scribbles there, and a very comfortable and very sweaty hoodie somewhere in between. It was almost amusing to think that he really did not have any clothing of his own anymore outside of his bandana (and even that was just a rugged bandage, his original long since lost to his knowledge). Toriel had seen to that under the guise of cleaning. Whether or not she knew the importance of distancing himself from his past was unknown to him but he was glad either way. The less time he had to spend in that cursed outfit, the better. It did mean he couldn't hide from his own reflection anymore. The clothing she had given him was either far too baggy or just a bit too revealing. It was ironic, really. He used to be one to flaunt his arms and physique. The body of the land's greatest Vampire Hunter, Richter had thought. Now those arms were more scar than flesh in a certain light. Frankenstein's Monster was less patchwork than him and that was saying a lot. The Creature still had him beat though.

He untensed his shoulders with a huff. He didn't really know how long it would take for him to come to terms with his body. He had spent far too much time all together reflecting on his wounds. The gashes would inevitably fill out again, his skin would tan, and the scars would become distant memories. It wasn't as if the idea of scars drove him off. He would normally be proud of the damage as they were signs of his previous conquests and of previous lessons. He had seen battle and came out victorious. It is just the costs of those victories that haunted him; he was reminded of them with every glance. The memories he had suppressed during his reign as Lord of the Castle and until just yesterday were finally coming to light. Slow, painful, and heartachingly sorrowful. They were still of him and he knew he needed to embrace every part of himself if he wanted to heal. So with a quick nod towards the mirror, he picked up the pace. He was wasting time. If Richter had to guess, Papyrus was the kind of man (monster) to show up early for an outing. He was far too enthusiastic to control himself otherwise by the sounds of things. Cleaning the room wouldn't be the hard part. After all, if worst comes to worst, he could just get the help of Karasuman who had once again perched himself outside the windowsill as a single raven. The hunter knew the rest were off somewhere watching. The true issue was that he had not a single clue what to wear on a "romp" through the town as Maria used to say. He had a pair of jeans (which felt weird under his touch), several tank tops with even more colorful designs slapped on them, and the same pair of leather boots he had been given earlier. There was little else that fit him well enough to be seen in public. Maybe he could ask if Toriel had any jackets to wear over his outfit. It was far too warm outside to wear anything heavy but his current getup was...lacking.

Knock. Knock. Knock.

Almost as if the family could read his thoughts like his own monsters could, there was a familiar knock at the door. Richter wasn't surprised at this point. From his short stay with the family, he had learned to never expect a quiet moment. There was always someone, or something, making plenty of noise throughout the house. It was a very boisterous household. He also knew to never make them wait, especially the teens. Asriel was very tenacious in his snooping as his track record had shown and the hunter wouldn't be surprised if he'd spot the kid looking through the window with the raven if he waited longer than a minute. So wanting to avoid arguably the inevitable, Richter strolled over to the door and swung it open. His head was buried in a tanktop as he struggled to get his sore arm through the hole, but it was safe to assume they would let themselves in. The wound on his shoulder had a penchant for tearing open, leaving it stiffer than a statue even in the best of times. So he just turned himself around and walked to where he thought the bed was before finally managing to push the rest of his arm through. Who knew something as sparse as a tank top would cause this much trouble? The sounds of a paw tapping on an object behind him brought back the conversation the night prior to his memory. That's right, Asriel was to join him and Papyrus on their journey through the town. Did he get approval from his mother yet? He wasn't terribly keen on upsetting her as well as Sans as he really didn't have much batting for him at this point. As if they could once again read his thoughts, Asriel(?) spoke from behind him.

"You know that Undyne would have a fit if she knew you were wearing her shirts, right? She loves her anime and is pretty protective of her, uh...I think it's called memorabilia? Alphys got her that."

There was that name again: Undyne. Richter knew very little about the monster outside of her being very close to the family. She did have a good taste in boots though so at least there was that. He wasn't happy to hear though that he might start a fight for wearing her clothing. He just desperately needed something to wear that wasn't that accursed barrel-chested tunic Toriel had given him earlier in his stay. Maybe Asriel could help him out then. With a pained shrug (damn his arm), he piled up the rest of the clothing into a small bag and chucked it onto the bed. Not like he'd be getting much use out of them right now despite his love for the hoodie.

"I mean hey, if you've got something else I could wear, I am all ears. These are a bit too...revealing."

Asriel just shook his head, his ears flopping as he did so, at the notion. That made sense, Richter was definitely larger than the teens, let alone built more. It made him wonder what this Undyne was like for her clothing to fit him (to some degree, he knew that it was made for someone with significantly smaller shoulders). What piqued his interest though was that she clearly had a mind for combat. Those boots seemed tailormade for the wear and tear of battle. It very much so reminded him of his own pairs back in his youth. It was a shame he didn't have access to his old wardrobe to some degree. He would never wear the same garb he once had been clad in but there was a lot to say about how effective the gear had been. Eh, oh well, there was nothing he could do now as he finished up cleaning, Asriel wrapped up in the device in his hand again. It was called a phone, wasn't it? Richter was still fairly behind on catching up with the countless new pieces of technology. Let it not be said that he was one against innovation...but this was just a bit too much for his tastes. He'd have to ask about the phone sometime in the future if he got the chance. With the idea popping into his head, the Belmont turned his attention back to the monster and asked something that had been on his mind since he had woken up.

"So when you say it's a city, do we mean large fortifications and many dwellings? Are castle walls still in style? I know your mother had mentioned something about districts but much of that was lost on me."

Asriel nodded, swiped his paw across the device, and pocketed it before turning his attention to the Belmont. There was no hesitation in his words as if he had been waiting to explain this. Was Richter really that predictable?

"It's really not that complicated. Let's see...we have eight districts, three of them being for monsters only. One is kinda a middle ground? The rest are for humans. Some of the states nearby work the same way but I dunno about them. Mom doesn't let us talk much with them."

He took a moment to respond to a sound that came from the "phone", tapping on it excitedly before shoving it back in his pocket and continuing. What was he doing?

"We're in District 3. Most of the monster businesses are here in the city. Lots of shops and goodies, a mall to hang out at, stuff like that. It's pretty safe. No humans really start fights in this district since the Royal Guard visits the area regularly. I think it's because Alphys works there but don't let Undyne hear me say that. She takes her job pretty seriously."

So there are a lot of merchants then? If Richter wasn't as broke as he was, he would be tempted to get his hands on some new gear. He doubted though that they sold armor. Hell, he'd be surprised if he could even find chainmail anywhere. Guess it went out of fashion.

"OH! I mentioned before, but my dad lives and works there too. He's got this flower shop, he's a florist. It's cool. Flowers are cool..."

Once again Asriel was getting sidetracked by the noises his device was making. What started off as a single ding erupted into quite a few. If Richter wasn't so confused as to what the device was, he felt like he would be pretty damn irritated at the constant interruptions to the conversation. The teen seemed pretty nonchalant about it though, a wide smile adorning his face as he focused down, so it must have been important enough to stop talking and address it. While Asriel was buried in his own little world, Richter thought back on what he was told. So everything had been sectioned off into eight districts. Of course mankind would dedicate themselves to tearing themselves and others apart. That really wasn't anything new. So many villages in his youth refused to associate with each other due to whatever petty grudges the elders had. It mattered not how desperately they needed help or resources, they could all be wiped off the face of the planet for all they cared. No wonder the Belmont was so disobedient half the time, he simply couldn't spare a single fuck for their little politics. Richter was a man of action and one who would never bat an eye at helping others. Did that get him in trouble? Oh definitely so, the amount of times he had been lectured for bringing refugees to the village or for helping nearby caravans from the creatures of the night was staggering to say the least. But what could they have done to stop him? Absolutely nothing, something they learned when he had taken their heads and mounted them on pikes.

. . . . . Oh.

"-anyway, that's really it. They don't see many humans and the ones they do see are just the regulars. They might be a bit scared of you but that's okay. You won't be that scary once they get to know you. Papyrus and I can help introduce you to them!"

Well that was morbid. To think that monsters were terrified of mankind in the same way humans greatly feared monsterkind. Richter had played that role once: that of the Boogeyman for both sides. He was well versed in the fears of others. Part of him, secluded deep down in the wreckage of his mind, wanted to play off on that fear. Maybe it could come in handy to be seen as intimidating here. No one to start fights, no one to fuck with the Royal Family. But he shook that notion aside, he just hoped he wouldn't be as intimidating now. He desperately wanted to turn a new leaf and to leave that lifestyle behind him...no matter how tempting it seemed.

"Well I hope I don't make a bad first impression. Not really planning on making your family's life worse. I'm sure your relationship with the public is strained as is."

Asriel once again shrugged at this, taking no time to respond. The words that came out of his muzzle were those of someone far beyond his years. The subject must have weighed heavily upon him.

"You won't change that, Richter. They have their mind set and nothing will change their prejudice. If anything I'm worried about how they will treat you."

"Who, monster or mankind?"

"Both"

Well once again Richter's prediction was right. It had been around nine in the morning when he arrived. A mere hour after his conversation with Asriel came several loud knocks on the front door. Richter had been in the kitchen enjoying a toasted bagel admiring how much of a beautiful piece of technology a toaster was when the jarringly loud sound nearly made him drop it straight into the sink. He juggled it for several seconds before allowing a moment to swallow the bread without killing himself (hah, the legendary Belmont killed by a bagel). Best not to keep them waiting he told himself as he booked it over to the still knocking guest. Whoever was behind the door hadn't stopped once. It was incessant, loud, and very firm. Good lord was this family obsessed with knocking in the most obnoxious ways. Shoving the rest of the bagel in his mouth, he wiped his hands on his jeans and swung open the door to reveal...the Great Papyrus himself. No surprises there. He was still wearing his porcelain "armor" and neon red attire, his cape flapping once again in wind that simply did not exist as he held his head up high. The confidence of this man struck the Belmont as endearing in almost a child-like way. Before Richter could get the food out of his mouth to welcome him in, the shouting began. How could anyone even call that a normal speaking voice? He didn't even have time to brace himself for the volume. The skeleton was charming but the barrage of ear-blasting words was something he certainly needed to get used to. He doubted the monster would change and Richter almost didn't want him to. He reminded him too much of Maria for that...

"HELLO AGAIN HUMAN! I, THE GREAT PAPYRUS, HAVE ARRIVED TO TAKE YOU ON AN ADVENTURE INTO OUR WONDERFUL CITY! ARE YOU PACKED? YOU SHOULD BE EXCITED, YOU WILL MEET SO MANY GREAT FRIENDS WITH ME AS YOUR GUIDE! THEY WILL CERTAINLY BE IMPRESSED WITH YOUR STRONG HUMAN GRIP LIKE I WAS."

His grip wasn't even that strong. It still hurt to put too much pressure on the healing wounds littering his hands. But he certainly wouldn't tell the excitable skeleton that. Not like he could speak with the bagel in his mouth at the moment. Instead he just nodded and bowed the monster in, adding a smidge of a dramatic flair just because he knew it would make the lad happy. How could anyone, let alone any human, hate someone as friendly as him? It was baffling. It's as if someone combined the most imaginative toddler with the happiest puppy. Papyrus was just pure.

"WOW! ARE YOU TRYING TO OUT-FRIEND ME? IMPOSSIBLE! SURELY YOU MUST BE JAPING TO CHALLENGE SOMEONE LIKE ME! I ACCEPT THIS CHALLENGE! GOOD THING I CAME PREPARED!"

With speed that Richter hadn't thought possible out of his lanky friend, Papyrus reached behind him and produced a...shirt. With the skeleton's face on it...wearing sunglasses. Underneath it was the text "Certified Cool Guy #2". Without a moment's hesitation, he placed the shirt into Richter's hands, gave him a quick pat on the shoulders, and strolled right past yelling out into the house about a "lazy bones who should have taken the human out to the town by now". Richter hadn't paid attention to the dialogue, or the fact that the door was still open, as he was still starstruck by the neatly ironed and folded shirt now resting in his slightly crummy hands. The shirt was a soft grey and extremely plush. Ignoring how vibrant the colors marking Papyrus's face and the text were, it was actually a well put together piece of clothing. It was short-sleeved but thankfully it would cover far more than the tank top he had been wearing. Had being past tense as Richter muttered a quiet and food-muffled "Fuck it" before immediately tossing his old top to the side in favor of the new gift. Public reaction be damned, this was the first gift he had received from someone outside of a caretaker and it warmed his soul more than he anticipated. He missed this, the feeling of family; of having friends who seemingly wanted his company. So he inhaled the rest of the bagel, walked to the study to grab his bag, and went back to the living room to wait for Papyrus and Asriel. He hadn't a clue how long it would take so in the meanwhile he absentmindedly lounged on the couch and ran a finger along the scar tissue of his face beneath the stubble that had been growing in. It baffled him that he could still grow hear in these spots. He really needed to get around to shaving it despite how much it covered. He really wasn't much of a beard guy.

It had taken the two monsters nearly an hour of aimless chatting among the family before they were ready to leave. On Richter's part, he tried his damndest to not fall asleep. He was still drowsy from the magic used the day prior and it would take a long while for it to pass. So he mindlessly sorted through his bag, humored the occasional visit from the ravens that continued to get through the open door he did not have the energy to close, and on more than one occasion shook himself out of the grabby hands of slumber. He doubted he would wake up if he passed out anytime soon so the sudden appearances of the two monsters made for a welcomed change of pace. He didn't really mind waiting as long as he did as their couch was incredibly comfortable. Giving their two approaching forms a lazy wave, he slowly began the long process of removing himself from the couch. At least it would have been long had Papyrus not pulled him up with the energy of a man with a proper sleep schedule. With a wink (how was he winking out stars?) and a quiet "NYEH" from the exertion, he spun around and marched out of the house without another word. Asriel took it in his stride with a wide smile, following behind, as they once again left Richter alone. With an awkward laugh and the popping of his back following a quick stretch, he slung the bag over his shoulders and made his way out. He made sure to shut the door behind him though finally. Man, what a bunch of characters.

"SO, PRINCE, WHERE WOULD YOU LIKE TO SHOW OUR FRIEND FIRST?"

The two monsters had seemingly taken a liking to treating their journey into the city like a literal tour. They were clearly plotting something, the Belmont thought, although he knew not what it was. For now he just hung back and let the two of them talk to themselves in playfully hushed voices. They still had a decent ways to go before they arrived into the heart of the city, from what he could gather, so all he really could do was walk. Not like he cared much about it though. A nice long walk was good for the mind and there was plenty he needed to sift through. His bag weighed heavily on his back as the prospects of what sat before him loomed ever closer. Here he was, out and about with the goal to socialize, when his own kind were waiting for him to return to kick the plan into action. He still had several days until construction for the villa around the altar would begin. Had he prepared enough for that? Richter doubted that he truly had. He was allowing himself to get caught up in distractions and little side quests when surely he had better things to do. This was far from being about his own enjoyment. He had hundreds of monsters to tend to and create a home for; they were his priority at the end of the day. He just needed to remind himself of that. So with a sigh he swore to himself that this would be the last distraction getting in the way of the salvation of his world. He should have, however, paid attention to where he was walking as he slammed directly into Papyrus's inquisitive form. Thankfully Richter hadn't been walking fast enough to really throw his weight around and Papyrus had more heft to him than what was expected. There was a moment of awkward silence but before the Belmont could even open his mouth, the skeleton monster spoke instead.

"FRIEND, YOU SEEM DISTRACTED! I UNDERSTAND HOW HARD IT CAN BE TO THINK OF A PLAN TO TOP THE AMAZING GIFT I GAVE YOU, BUT SURELY YOU MUST BE EXCITED TO BE POPULAR LIKE YOURS TRULY?"

It came to the hunter's attention that both Papyrus and Asriel had stopped to observe him some moments ago. They must have been talking to him. He really needed to stop getting so wrapped up in his head. Richter was far from content with coming across as troubled despite the truth, so he put on a smile and sheepishly ran a hand through his hair. Its length gave him no comfort and his smile seemingly provided no comfort either to the monsters.

"Oh, sorry about that! I'm just tired. I've been pretty busy as of late, but I'll try my best to keep up with you two. It's hard to even compare to you, Papyrus."

He tossed in the compliment in the hopes that it would throw them off his scent...and by the looks of things, it did. Papyrus let out an understanding "HMMMMM", nodded towards Asriel, and stuck a pointer finger into the air as if driving a point home. A point he hadn't even made yet. There was a brief moment of silence before Papyrus realized he had yet to reveal whatever he was plotting.

"THEN WE CLEARLY NEED TO GET YOU SOMETHING TO DRINK! I WOULD GIVE YOU SOME OF MY REJUVENTATING PASTA BUT, HMMM, I THINK I FORGOT IT IN MY CAR. OUR FRIENDS, LIKE MYSELF, HAVE STANDARDS AND YOU MUST BE AWAKE TO MAKE THEIR ACQUAINTANCE! I KNOW YOU HUMANS LOVE YOUR...-"

He quickly glanced down to the goat teen, imploring him to finish the sentence by the looks of things. Asriel just spun his paws in a small circle with an expectant grin as if to help him think. It took Papyrus a moment to process it.

"...COFFEE? RIGHT?"

With a knowing nod from Asriel, he turned his attention back to the Belmont and continued.

"I KNOW JUST THE GREASY PLACE! BESIDES, THERE ARE PLENTY OF MONSTERS WHO YOU CAN GET TO KNOW! MAYBE EVEN THE ROYAL GUARD! THEY ARE A BUNCH OF SOFTIES, YOU WOULD GET ALONG WITH THEM SPLENDTASTICALLY! TO GRILLBY'S WE GO-"

A quiet cough from Asriel interrupted the skeleton's flow. It also served to remind Richter of the situation. That was right, they were supposed to meet Asriel's father at his store. Richter couldn't think of the last time he had visited a florist. Or could he? When had he even last held a flower?

"-OOOOH I MEAN TO ASGORE'S FIRST, THEN GRILLBY'S!"

With a firm "harumph", he spun around again and continued to march down the street. The sheer confidence, along with the pure joy, the monster exuded was infectious. As he tailed behind the long striding skeleton, Asriel slowed his pace and bumped into Richter's side. All he was met with when turning his head down to him was a questioning eyebrow and concerned emerald eyes. Guess Asriel was harder to shake off than Papyrus, damn teenagers and their curiosity. Richter let the smile slip and offered a slight grimace. He didn't know how much he could really get into when with Papyrus but he preferred to keep his matters to himself. The goat monster just shook his head, grabbed the hunter's arm, and pulled him up to be alongside Papyrus. The skeleton was purely focused on moving forward and seemed to be singing pasta recipes under his breath (could they breathe?). Richter followed his gaze to the fabled city the family had been talking about for some time now...It was smaller than expected. Not just smaller, it was alarmingly tiny. Less than a hundred buildings with one massive structure that Asriel had described to him as a mall. There was no way this could be considered a city to the hunter. It reminded him instead of just a bulkier village. Was the monster population truly small enough to consider the abysmal sight before them a city? Asriel had said though that this district was mostly for vendors and merchants. That would explain quite a bit, but it still was a depressing visual.

Richter gave a quick gander to the passerby's on the sidewalk. As Asriel had mentioned in their earlier conversation, it was mostly just monsters. None that he recognized but that was far from surprising. The occasional human could be found mingling with the rest of the pedestrians but they were an oddity. The hunter had never seen anything like this before and he really should have expected it. He was too used to seeing mankind being the dominant presence in society. Bustling streets with hundreds of his fellow men and women, his peers. It was as if the tables had been turned and now the Belmont was the one to be gawked at. Many of the monsters they passed by, either on this sidewalk or across the road, gave him quite the stare. He really couldn't blame them though. He must have looked out of place compared to the rest of the human men because at least they were dressed decently. His gifted shirt still did little to hide the patchwork skinjob adorning his body and it left him almost self-conscious. Instead he decided to take it in his stride and ignore them. Why should he be bothered? He was certain mankind looked like monsters to the actual society of monsterkind. Richter chuckled to himself at the visual, eliciting another stare from Asriel. Did he think he could really explain the idea without seeming like a madman?

"Eh, it's nothing".

He didn't want to put it to chance. Instead he decided to just enjoy the comfortable silence mingling with Papyrus's singsong albeit pitchy ditty about the ravioli that could.

So this was it, huh? "The Golden Flower" which, as the namesake implied, was adorned with a medium-sized golden figurehead of what looked like a sunflower. Underneath it was the name in large and plain yellow text. Asriel said his father wasn't spectacular with names. The rest of the building wasn't anything spectacular either. Simple grey bricks, two display windows showcasing an array of comically huge flowers that Richter couldn't even start to name, and an oversized wooden chair pushed next to the doorway. A small set of organized china sat pleasantly displayed on a box underneath the seat. There were a few pots on sale outside showcasing a wide variety of orchids. For all intents and purposes, it was very homey. The simplicity was undercut by the occasional golden outline or trim on the brickwork. Upon closer inspection, the Belmont could see vines and weeds from whatever the florist had planted outside the building snaking its way up the walls. He got the feeling that this gentleman spoiled the weeds too. The arrangement brought to light a faint glimmer of a memory, just out of reach. He was forgetting something but Richter couldn't quite place a finger on it. It was rattling about in his scarred battlefield of a head and it just wouldn't slow down enough for him to dive into it.

It was what it was, he decided, and decided to forgo remembering in favor of appreciating some blooms that brought a grin to his face. He had to ignore the pain from his crouched position as he carried his glance across the numerous pots. Thumbing over the blood-red shoots and the speckled and splashed pattern on the flowers themselves, he thought briefly on what was taking Asriel and Papyrus so long inside. It had been nearly twenty minutes since they had gone inside. They did invite him in but Richter wasn't really the type to intrude on family matters at the moment despite Papyrus's complaints. He would rather enjoy the weather, stretch his legs, and take a gander at the colorful plants barraging his vision. He turned his attention back to the orchid he was toying with. Well that was ironic, he thought, if his memory was to be trusted, weren't these flowers called -

"Dracula Orchids, I don't see many folk take an interest in them. Golly, I can't even recall the last human to stop by. They're for sale if you'd like."

The sound of the man's voice reverberated through Richter's chest causing his hand to stiffen over the bloom. It had a warm almost rich quality which helped take the edge off of being surprised from behind. With one last caress, he shakily, damn his back, stood back up and turned around to face the face of the voice. Well, more like face to chest. He hadn't been expecting what he saw however and he was damn sure a lesser man would have flinched. Richter had faced greater beasts before, creatures far larger than even the small shop they were in front of, so he steeled himself without giving away his surprise. Before him stood a goliath of a man, clearly a monster given the white fur, adorned in a stretched pink sweater and shorts. He was easily clearing the seven foot mark and dwarfed Richter in every sense of the word. The size of his arms were only rivaled by the rotundness of his belly; if the gentleman wasn't practically screaming that he was more mouse than elephant, the hunter would be on guard. All it took was a quick glance to see the closed eyes and wide smile of the monster to realize he was in good company. A set of large horns with a mane of golden fluff, and a beard to match, adorned his head. The floppy ears were a telltale sign of this man being Asriel's father. Even without the muzzle the resemblance was uncanny. He looked an awful lot like Toriel as well, so did particular types of the same monsters only get together to bear children? Either way the kind man did ask a question.

"I don't have a coin to my name, I'm sorry. These are beautiful though. Where did you get them?"

The question seemed to take the father by surprise as he opened his eyes to gaze down at the hunter. A gentle blue pair met his own and Richter could read the shock across the florist's face. The man was wearing his heart on his sleeve and Richter found it a surprising quirk given how harsh mankind could be. All the Belmont could do was offer a soft smile of his own to follow up his question to show his sincerity. He truly was curious where the flowers had been grown. His own history with the orchid was beginning to slow the rattling memories in his head and pieces were starting to click together. There was a connection here but he frustratingly still couldn't put his finger on what it was. Again though he was not offered time to put it together as the monster collected himself and answered the question. His voice hadn't lost its warm quality, if anything it was even more sincere than it was previously (if that was even possible). The guy was like a walking plush bear.

"I understand, young man. It's nice to just enjoy nature and appreciate the flowers sometimes, in the hustle and bustle. It's why I grow them here. Those orchids especially. They make me happy."

There was a sheepish air to the man as he finished up his sentence, almost as if he was embarrassed to admit something as simple as his happiness. The Belmont had a moment's notice to quell the anger bubbling in his gut at the notion. Who had hurt this man? He was so tired of seeing people being scared of their happiness or of being themselves. Seemed that monsterkind had it bad enough as it was, so why subject them to this as well?

"I've got my own...history with the plant but I can't deny that nature makes me happy too. You've done a wonderful job with the flowers here."

It suddenly struck him that he hadn't even introduced himself yet. Despite Asriel and Papyrus mentioning the man's name numerous times, the Belmont couldn't for the life of him recall the gentleman's name. He needed to get back on the ball and first impressions mattered. So with that in mind, Richter outstretched his ravaged hand in a greeting.

"Where are my manners?"

Asriel's father took but a moment to understand before breaking out in another wide beaming smile that almost pushed his eyes closed once again. He grasped Richter's hand within both of his paws and shook gently. It felt like his hand was sandwiched in fur blankets and never in his life had it been handled as carefully as this. To his memory, at least. Was the monster afraid he would crush the Belmont's scarred palm? He guessed that there weren't many humans who were as amiable and willing to shake hands with the goliath as he was. All he could think was that it was incredibly dumbfounding that, like Papyrus, people could dislike this monster. Richter felt the words tumble out his mouth, still caught up in the tender nature of the handshake.

"The name is Richter Belmont, it's a pleasure to meet you. I'm friends with your son."

"Howdy then, Richter! The pleasure is all mine. I'm Asgore Dreemurr. So you're the human I've heard my son talk so much about?"

So word about his arrival had traveled outside of the house? Well, alright. There's no way to get that snake back into the tin now. The Belmont couldn't really tell if that was a good or a bad thing. How much had Asriel told his father? Hopefully nothing too terribly personal and certainly nothing to do with his history as a Monster and Vampire Hunter. That would be pretty awkward and he balked at the idea of upsetting this soft man. Asgore, as if sensing Richter's discomfort over the notion, quickly backpedaled and continued.

"Oh nothing bad, I promise! It's not often that we get humans falling out of the sky haha!"

He let out a belly-shaking laugh that further strained the poor pink sweater he was wearing. Richter didn't get the joke. He also didn't understand how a man of that...caliber, covered in thick fur, could be wearing a sweater in this weather. The Belmont could actually feel the heat radiating from the monster's physique. But as quick as the laughter began, it ended. On Richter's part, all he could do was nod and look about aimlessly. There was a lull in the moment as Asgore sat in his chair, reached underneath him, and produced the set of china that had been seen earlier. Was there actually something in those? That was bold of the monster, to leave things out in the public expecting no one to steal or walk off with it. Hell, Richter was surprised the chair was still here. If not for its gigantic size it certainly would be gone by now. It must have been expertly crafted to hold a creature of such weight.

"Would you like a cup of tea?"

In all honesty, yeah he would. As good as the water and the countless jugs of orange juice that littered Toriel's fridge was, there was surprisingly little monster food. The Sea Tea she had given him on their first true introduction still lingered on his mind. He was well aware at this point of the magical properties of monster food but it had proven difficult to find much in their household. He knew she had used quite a bit of it to help with his healing process during his periods of unconsciousness but he hadn't expected to wipe them out of house and home. Didn't she just get some groceries? Either way, it seemed that they had taken a liking to the food on the surface. At least as bagels are concerned. So Richter couldn't deny that he was excited by the prospect to experience more of their culture's food. It wasn't a massive chunk of pork or turkey but it would do.

"Sure, that sounds nice."

Richter walked his way over to sit across from the big man himself on the paved flooring. Seemed that the stonework of the sidewalks stopped only at the entrance to the store. It really wasn't comfortable but it would do. An exhausted sigh slipped out of his mouth as he finally began to rest. He had been exerting himself more than he really should have and unlike his trip through the Altar, he wasn't being fueled by a magical force. It had taken them about an hour to walk to this place from Toriel's home and each mile was wearing his body thin. He just hoped this wouldn't bite him in the ass. It was at that point that Asgore lifted the lid to the teapot in his hands, frowned, and tucked it under his chair again. He offered up an apologetic smile and gestured down to the china below him. Had Asgore not filled it?

"Um, I'm sorry. The pot's gone cold...but I'm glad you said yes! You are always welcome to visit again and I'll make sure to have one ready for you. We'll be best of pals."

Well that was a crying shame, Richter thought. He had just gotten himself excited over the prospect. It was surprising though that neither he or the monster had thought about it losing its heat as it was obviously just left outside for however long. Part of Richter wanted to offer the use of his flame magic to heat it up, but that may bring too much attention onto himself. He guessed it wouldn't hurt though to visit Asgore another time to chat. Hell, maybe if he had some coin he could get the orchid just to laugh at it every morning. Dracula Orchid his ass. It did bring a question to the Belmont's mind, however. How come he was so shocked about someone taking interest in his store? Or maybe...

"If you don't mind me asking, you said you don't get many human visitors?"

Asgore just nodded solemnly, the grin fading ever so slightly. He ran a paw through his golden beard as he looked down the quiet streets. It was mid-day and yet foot traffic was minimal if nonexistent. Where was everyone? Was there ever anyone to leave this place busy in the first place? The Belmont could have sworn that more monsters would be present than the sparse few they had come across in the journey into the city. It was supposed to be a city after all. For a commercial district, it was awfully silent. It was such a stark constrast to the many farmer's markets, parked merchant caravans, and other wandering vagrants who had an item to sell under their name back in Richter's home. Or where his home used to be...

"Even at the best of times, most humans are...nervous in these parts. Same with monsterkind, they're too scared to walk on the streets anymore. I wish we could all just live happily together but we have a long ways to go. I try to keep the peace but... Still-"

Another soul-piercing grin alongside an oversized paw resting on the Belmont's knee followed his sentence. Asgore's chair creaked and groaned as the monster had leaned forward to be closer to Richter. The hunter could feel the warmth immediately sink through the fabric of his pants and seep into his leg. It helped quell the aching of his bones.

"-the important part is that you're here. More folk like you will pave our future. It's always a joy to meet a friendly face, haha."

Richter didn't have any time to really contemplate Asgore's comment on the future when the distinct sound of a pot shattering echoed from the inside of the shop. Hushed yelling, and in Papyrus's case just yelling-yelling, soon followed. It was still indecipherable but it seemed that the adult monster was far too familiar with the situation. He just waggled his head in amusement, excused himself and lumbered back into the store. Gleeful conversations could barely be heard from where Richter was sitting but he couldn't muster the effort to pay attention. He just felt so tired. Every wound and bone throbbed from the exertion thus far and all he could do is lean his head back against the brick and close his eyes. It felt cool as his hair parted against it. The awning of the entranceway provided enough shade to keep him from overheating as his grip on reality began to slip. The scent of the countless nearby blooms finally stilled the memory that had been so out of reach. So in the darkness behind his eyes, as he was becoming truly detached from his environment, he watched the past held between two bloody palms.

A sea of pink roses turned crimson from the tide of battles sat before him. The wind, whipping past them in the magically charged air, sent the occasional blood splattered petal in his direction. He just batted them out of his face as he marched forward with another corpse in hand. Looming in the distance atop the largest hill they could find sat the Burning Pyre: a collection of all the remains of those they had killed and deemed unfit to feed to his denizens of the castle. Not all meat was worth feasting upon and the countless bodies were starting to reek. It also served as a message and a beacon to all those who wish to fight him and his army. Not like he was opposed to being challenged. Richter would normally be above joining them in the simple task of burning bodies but he had grown bored. After seeing to the deaths of all the local Monster Hunters personally, there was little else to do but wait for more opponents. The citizens could barely hold a sword, let alone pose a threat to Richter. What was the point in quelling the uprisings of ants? So in the meanwhile he found himself tagging along during the more menial tasks such as this. A part of him relished in the death and the chaos. If he was lucky, someone would be pretending to be dead. Nothing like the feeling of a skull crushed under his boot, he thought. At least he had that to look forward to. But today had been different.

Yes, today had been so much more interesting than usual. His monsters had intercepted a wagon of children being escorted by the few remaining knights of a local city. The name escaped him, but the knights most certainly did not. He tried his best to give them a chance to challenge him, he truly did. Their attempts to challenge him however were met with disappointment. So in a fit of rage he had them all slaughtered. Not even by his own hands, but by ordering the Werewolf to enjoy his little "'feast". It was fun to watch. The parts of his spirit that would scream and yell at the bloodshed had been buried for good so all that existed in his soul was the unbridled joy to be felt from the gore. So while the knights were torn limb from limb in a gaudy display, he had turned his attention to the children. There was no sport in slaying kids so he ordered the wagon burned. He thought he had seen the end of them but he had been sorely mistaken. Seemed that the simple tasking of burning a wagon had gone over his minions heads as they managed to let the children escape. He could have ordered a manhunt, he really could have, but what was the point? So with a flick of his wrist, he launched a dagger into the back of the nearest fleeing child and let the rest scurry away like the rats they were. He was sure their stories would rile up whatever rebels were left. It would be another pitiful fight in a long line of excuses for battle.

So that left him where he was: dragging the still warm body of the boy up the hill towards the pyre. The pile of the dead was so much smaller than it usually would be. They had run out of villages and cities to invade within a good distance. It was becoming a bother to look for fights now and the appetite of his minions was insatiable. In only weeks he had put to rest what felt like more souls than Dracula had in countless generations. Richter couldn't be put down by something as simple as a Vampire Hunter, and he certainly wasn't threatened by the city guards and night watch. Roaming bands of mercenaries were nothing but a short joyride and rebellions were frequent and brief. Who knew having a human lord of the castle meant he could conquer so easily? Only the sages, mages, and wizards of the land could pose any semblance of a threat to the Belmont but even they mattered little. After all, he had an undying army at his fingertips. He had to let them have their fun too, after all. But...during the moments after the haze cleared, when the dead were being piled high to be devoured or reduced to ash, he found himself contemplating the reasoning. Was this really all just for glory? Would there be much of a life for him after all of humanity had been enslaved and conquered? What was the point for a shepherd if there were no wolves?

"There will always be someone to challenge us. You are mighty and the world will never stop despising that. Prove them you are eternal, your glory shall live on for generations."

The voice in his head was right, he couldn't deny it. Or was it that he simply couldn't deny it? He couldn't dwell on it much though as the spluttering and familiar sound of blood being coughed out of the lungs came from beside him. He could feel the child begin to squirm under his grip. After all, he had only been dragging the child by his foot. For how long, he knew not, but the boy had been desperately clawing at the dirt and the roses to slow the inevitable. He had a fire in him, it was a shame it was being drowned. So with a laugh, the Belmont righted his grip, yanked him off the ground, and pulled him up to eye level. The hatred in the child's eyes struck a cord that hadn't been felt since he started this journey. The boy was struggling to breath, he had to be in his teens at least, but was adamant in staring the hunter down despite it all. It was humorous. A petal had found its way into their hair, another in their soaked mouth. Even if the kid could speak, Richter doubted he would. He knew their type. The Belmont wasn't apparently deserving of hearing a last word, of the pitiful excuses of groveling mankind seemed to make in their last moments. Did they not recognize he deserved their attention? So with a frown, he shook the boy before throwing him to the grass. He procured a shortsword from a body nearby and dropped it at the kid's feet. Time for him to prove his mettle.

"Go ahead child, fight me. If you can wound me, land a single blow upon my flesh, I'll let you run."

It took but a moment for the wounded child to grab the blade and ready himself. He was weak, trembling, but his form was clearly trained. His father must have been a warrior. So with a smile, Richter just outstretched his arms and let out a laugh. Was he really desperate enough for a fight that he was letting a mere boy challenge him? He guessed he was as he carefully watched them lunge forward with the tip of the blade. It took a simple sidestep to avoid the attack as the kid tripped from the momentum and slammed headfirst into another bed of roses. What Richter hadn't expected though in his hubris was a desperate swipe from the boy. He had managed to turn his body enough to swing an arm with the blade loosely and clumsily. It was enough though as it cut a sliver from the hunter's thigh. The Belmont could barely believe it. He couldn't contain his laughter, a gut-splitting laugh that cackled out into the sky like those of the hunting dogs he liked to rely upon. He kicked away the blade, picked up the body, and dusted off his shoulders. His laughter was only quelled by the still furious look adorning the child's face. It was confusing, why wasn't he happy? He had done something so many others couldn't even muster up the effort for. Hurt, no matter how little, by a simple child.

"You should be glad! Look at what you've done! You've got spirit, I look forward to facing you when you're older. If you don't get yourself killed, that is."

The child just spat a glob of congealed blood and mucus onto the Belmont's shirt. His eyes were boring holes through the hunter's head. He truly was ungrateful of this opportunity? Petulant child. But a deal was a deal, so Richter grabbed the sword, firmly placed it in the boy's hands, and shooed him off as he turned to walk away. He'd be happy one day. To have faced the legendary Vampire Hunter and lived. Oh, the stories he could tell! Maybe he would head a successful rebellion and return to fa- *THUNK*

The sound of an arrow whistling through the air and finding its target shook Richter out of his trance. From the dark recesses of his soul clawed forth the long buried conscience of the Belmont. With a hesitant glance behind him, he saw the child now on his knees, an arrow carved of bone imbedded in his head. A single stream of blood trickled down his jaw and onto the now forgotten blade buried in the roses. It was a clean, effective kill. Richter wanted to scream, to yell at his gods to strike him down for letting such an event take place. To have them send an arrow of their own down from the sky to put an end to the horrors he was committing. He wanted to desperately reach into his chest and pull out his accursed heart. To usurp the voice echoing through his mind and body and fight for control. But it was all for naught as the thoughts were soon wiped from his mind, replaced with a single uttered sentence. Swooping down to pluck a bloom from the ground, he twirled it in his finger before continuing his march to the pyre with the freshly claimed body.

"Such a shame"

"SHOULD WE WAKE HIM UP?"

"I think it's too late for that, Paps."

Richter awoke in a confused daze. Images of bloodstained roses were burnt into his vision as he desperately fought the urge to claw out his eyes. He was awake, he was alive, he was himself. It took him but a moment to assess his surroundings. Papyrus and Asriel stood above him, the former hunched over and mere inches away from his face. His fists clenched and he had to bunch them up in his shirt to resist lunging out. Part of his soul was screaming at him to fight. To die in the heat of battle so he would no longer be cursed with these pervasive memories. With a movement faster than his body was ready for, Richter stood to his feet and feigned a stretch if only to instead dwell on the familiar ache of his wounds. Focus on something that wasn't the shadow of a child looming in the corner of his vision. The smell of burning flesh and boiling blood. He turned away from the pair to hide the blood dripping down his face, from his hands. He was soaked with it. He had to collect himself, he had to breathe. Breathe in, two, three, four. Breathe out, two, three, four. Rinse and repeat. Rinse his sins, wash his sins away with each breath. His hands were clean, only tears had been shed, the shadow began to dissipate.

"R-Richter, are you okay?"

The tightness in his chest was still overwhelming, he couldn't speak. He could barely breathe. He had to breathe, have to breathe. Breathe in, two, three, four. Breathe out, two, three, four. Rinse and repeat. Rinse his sins, wash his sins away with each breath. Richter had to clutch the side of the building to steady himself. The darkness surrounding his vision slowly receded. The roses were gone. Where was he, Richter asked himself. He needed to focus. He was outside Asgore's flower shop, flanked by a teenage goat monster and a flamboyantly loud skeleton. Shaft was long since dead. Hell, he probably never even existed in this reality. It elicited a quiet chuckle that got caught in his throat. It took all of the strength in his wilting body to not let it turn into a sob. He had to stay strong. So with a shuddering sigh, he shook his shoulders loose and turned around to meet the concerned gazes of the two monsters. He couldn't talk his way out of this one but he truly didn't want to get into it. So a half-truth would do. He dusted his legs off, made sure he had his bag on him, and began. He ignored the tear running down his cheek.

"Just a nightmare. I don't really sleep well. I'll be okay. You two done?"

Papyrus went to say something but before he could speak, Asriel reached out and sharply pulled on one of his gloves. All it took was a sharp look from the teenager to quell whatever was about to come from the skeleton's mouth. They both shared a knowing glance and if Richter was in a better condition, he'd be upset over the pitying glint to their eyes. But it was a struggle to just look into their eyes (and eyesockets) as it was so one thing at a time. Asriel offered a quick wave at the window and the two of them started walking past. The teen bumped into the hunter's side as he passed by, grabbing onto his shirt and pulling him along. The meaning was playful but the grip was too tender to not reveal the intention. A bundle of yellow sunflowers was being gingerly held in his other hand, huh. Those must have been the flowers he had come to visit his father for. Richter guessed both father and son had a connection to the plant.

"Yeah we're done! C'mon Richter, we gotta get to Grillby's. They have the best fries."

As the Belmont was being dragged along by the monster duo, he managed to spare a brief glance behind him at the storefront. Behind the glass, watering some of what appeared to be lilies, was the sorrowful gaze of Asgore. They locked eyes and exchanged a brief albeit understanding nod, before he turned his attention back to his flowers. There was something in the man's gaze that told him that there was more to the florist than met the eye. The Belmont made a mental note to schedule a visit with the monster whenever he gets a moment in the future. Maybe discuss some plans over tea, or whatever he could do to keep the visions out of his head. The more he could do, the better. In the meantime he needed to distract himself from the dark images that threatened his sanity. So he focused on the sound of their mismatched footsteps stroll down the stone avenues and muddy streets, the upbeat and casual conversations of his two companions, the smell of impending rain that surrounded them, and the eventual feeling of raindrops dripping through his hair as the three of them made a mad dash through the rest of the so-called city. He cared little for where the destination was. As long as he could run from himself, he'd be happy.