It was the early months of spring. Grasshoppers clicked in the humid air, the wind as light as a whisper breezing through the flower valley, as clouds slinked across the sky with no rhyme or reason. The air was merciful to Asgore today, sparing him the trouble of having to find flowers that weren't damaged by the wind. He had a basket full of all mixed kinds, including buttercups, cornflowers, nasturtiums, marigolds, California poppies, and any other wildflower he could find.

Picking flowers wasn't something Asgore did on a regular basis, even if he wanted to; it was something he did to pass the time. Weaving baskets, creating bouquets to brighten up the castle halls and rooms, and gifting them to others, whether for their wedding day or birthday or just to give them a gift in general. It was always something he and others appreciated. It was what he was currently doing right now, in fact. His mom and dad had been stressed as of late, and he wanted to do something kind for them other than give them another painting. And, well, flowers were always another good way to destress. He just hoped they appreciated it. They will, he knows, but he's always been the nervous type.

Sorting out the flowers in the basket, he heard the shuffle of Toriel from behind him, who was lying on the grass with closed eyes, a book she and he had picked from the library discarded to the side.

She looked at him, suddenly saying. "Apparently there's a new scientist working for us."

"Oh?" Asgore responded, still engrossed in his flower picking.

She hummed. "His name's W.D. Gaster."

"W.D. Gaster?" Asgore repeated, arching his brow. "That's a pretty odd name."

"It's not really his name, W.D.'s just a nickname, apparently. I think it stands for Wing Dings? Gaster's his last name." The goat monster heard the faint sound of paper flipping, likely the book Toriel had put to the side and decided to pick up and read again.

"He's nameless?" He asked.

Toriel shrugged. "Not entirely nameless, he just doesn't have a first name."

"Is he a skeleton, then?"

Skeletons' names were typically fonts such as Arial, Roboto, Helvetica, Times New Roman, and Garamond, to mention a few. And they never used first names. They were a numerous race that were also highly powerful in their own right, but they were laid-back and preferred to do their own thing rather than fight. Which was something most monsters could relate to. A monster's soul was made of kindness, after all.

Toriel lifted herself up with her elbows, looking up at the sky with a puckered top lip. "I'm not sure… Is Gaster a font?" She asked as she tilted her head.

Asgore shook his head. "Wingdings is. It's kind of an odd font. It's symbols like hand gestures and stuff. Super rare too. Although I'm not sure about 'Gaster'."

"Well," she lopsidedly tilted her head in the other direction, shrugging, "he probably is a skeleton, then."

"You shouldn't just trust my word on it!" Asgore floundered. "I could just be lying."

She deadpanned, her expression saying 'yeah right, you, lying?'

He flushed a deeper red. "I-I don't really know much about skeletons. So I could just be misinformed."

"You're smart, so I trust you." And before Asgore could interject with a denial, she continued. "Either way, we should go say hello to him. It's not everyday someone manages to impress your mother and father."

Which was true. His mom and dad were hard to impress. Well, that is unless you're their kid or a close family friend.

His mom and dad only hire the best of the best, whether that's through seeing potential or if they're advanced in their field. It's reasons like that that their kingdom was the most influential, despite kingdoms being uncommon in today's day and age.

After gathering a decent amount of flowers, Asgore hummed and straightened himself. His paws were filthy from the soil, and the blue blossoms had stained some of his fingers. Although he was satisfied with the amount he had picked.

"Let's go drop these off first." Asgore said. "Then we'll go see the new scientist."

They strolled to Asgore's parents' office after packing up; the book tossed in with the rest of the flowers, and by the time they had gotten there, instead of his parents, there was a locked room.

"Are they out?" Asgore asked Toriel, to which she shrugged.

When his parents left their home, they usually locked the door to their office. It wasn't so much that they didn't trust him as it was that their doors were always open to a tourist. If a person was curious enough, they could visit the castle and sightsee their residence. Though, rarely do people actually come here to sightsee, preferring to look from the outside.

Gerson going down the corridor attracted his notice, turning to greet him, which piqued the turtle's interest. "Howdy, Gerson." He says with a faint nod of his head.

He looked over at the two, a faux frown stretching itself across his face. "Oh…" he said dis-heartedly. "It's you two…"

"What? You have a problem with us?" Toriel accused.

"If you guys are going to invite me out. No. I don't want to be the third wheel." He replied.

Toriel laughed while Asgore inhaled sharply and began coughing, stooping over as he choked on his spit. Did Gerson really have to be as blunt as he was?

"Don't be lonely then." She said this while placing her hands on her hips, her posture haughty with her nose stuck up in the air.

Gerson laughed aloud. "Hah! As if I'd want a miss' if she's going to be as ugly as you!"

Toriel cackled even louder, Asgore still choking on his spit and clutching the wall as if it were his only lifeline.

"Anyway," Gerson said, "what're you two doing here?"

"'Gorey wanted to give his parents some flowers." Toriel answered for him.

Gerson waved them off. "You won't find 'em here then. They left."

Asgore, having finally caught his breath, asked. "Where'd they go?"

"Not sure. I think they had an important meeting or something."

"Ah… I see." Well, that was a shame, but there wasn't anything he could do about it. He'll just ask his parents what they were doing when they get back.

"Oh, right!" Toriel chirped. "Do you want to come with us to see the new scientist?"

"The new scientist, eh?" Gerson scratched chin. "Who're they?"

"His name is W.D. Gaster."

"Weird name."

Toriel chuckles. "Asgore said the same thing, too."

"Is he a skeleton?"

Asgore shrugs. "He might be."

Gerson then abruptly ushered them down the hall, heeling behind them. "Let's not dilly dally then! Let's go check out our new victim!"

"He's not our victim, Gerson." Asgore said.

Though, Gerson didn't pay any attention, hooting. "NEW MEAT! NEW MEAT!"

Toriel laughed and hopped ahead, casting an amused smile to Asgore. "Well, he's not wrong." she remarked, a certain glint behind her eyes that Asgore couldn't discern.

Because, technically, if Asgore intended to make a new friend, then that new friend was technically the new victim. Similarly to how Toriel and Gerson were victims of Asgore many years ago.

Because, really, Asgore can make friends with a person in an instant, even the toughest cookies to crack like Gerson and herself.

So, no matter who this Gaster person is, he'll be Asgore's friend by the end of the day.

'If it'll benefit you, take advantage of every opportunity you get.' His adoptive father's advice scurried to the forefront of his mind when he first took this opportunity, carrying it with him like it was an important artefact before he left home to move in with the Dreemurr's.

Getting noticed by the king and queen wasn't something Gaster ever expected to happen, but he wasn't surprised by it. He was aware of his position and the importance of his work. After all, he took pride in his profession. It was everything to him, something he'd done since he was a child, and if he wasn't any good at it after years of practice, he might as well find another career.

He knew well that an outsider may regard him as arrogant or even cocky because he was young and talking highly about himself, but, well; he was good at what he did, and he knows that. Being self-aware wasn't arrogance.

So imagine his surprise when, after he's hired, he arrives at the castle, and he's greeted by the sight of his own lab and with access to as many materials as he wants or needs for future experiments.

It was like Christmas came early with the abundance of supplies he had access to.

Though, even if he was grateful for everything they've given him, it still left questions.

'Why' was a big one.

Things weren't given out for free because of generosity. Things don't work out that way.

He'd have to be a fool to not notice there was something else behind the king and queen's polite words. Something they wanted from him. But he just wasn't sure what it was yet.

But as observational as he was, he was also not one to look a gift horse in the mouth.

So he accepted it as is and got straight to work, scouting out his inventory and even conversing with his new coworkers.

Apparently, he was one of the youngest scientists employed so far, and even if he was allowed to lead experiments, he'd only assist with them, mainly because he was 19, and even he wouldn't trust a 19-year-old stranger with dangerous chemicals.

After a week of working in the labs, He gained the nickname "Wing Dings", owing to his use of sign language. What helped boost the usage of the nickname was that he was raised by a skeleton family as well.

He didn't mind the nickname. It was sweet. And kind of funny.

And just like that, four weeks had passed with him being engrossed in work until he met Asgore.

In all honesty, Asgore wasn't sure how he imagined Gaster to look like. Sure, at first he imagined a skeleton that was stout, wearing goggles and had ash smeared across his cheeks originating from who knows where, but it was actually a complete mystery as to how he would actually look like. Maybe he had fangs, or maybe even two stubs for feet. The only thing that he actually knew about the guy was that he was, well, a guy.

But out of all those possibilities, out of everything that he was expecting, what he wasn't expecting was that Gaster was a human. Fairly good looking too in a non-stand-outish kind of way.

He wore round glasses and had dishevelled, straight black hair which was combed back, as if he'd woken up that morning and decided that he wasn't going to tame his hair for the day. His features were lengthy, but not excessively so that they appeared out of place, and he was dressed in a white lab coat that reached to his ankles. Underneath that, a black-collared shirt tucked into his black trousers.

He stood behind a long bench table in the labs, talking to D.G—or Donut Guy, a nickname everyone gave him since he was constantly carrying a donut—about the components in the meal mixture they were creating and how much HP it would give to a person. While D.G was chatting animatedly, the human interjected some points here and there in sign language, pointing out that while they could just smash another food item in with the ice cream, it'd be preferable to mix it in rather than hoping for the best and getting a mediocre tasting treat. It was a good point, Asgore might add, he'd rather it taste good and give him better health, than just have something that tastes bland at best and horrible at worst.

"Yes, but as a meal ration," [Meal ration?] "It'd be more convenient to just be able to smash two foods together on the spot." D.G argued.

[More convenient, yes, but it takes up too much.] Gaster signed. [It's better to have them already prepared.]

The cat monster shook his head, his tail flicking. "That'd also take up too much time, not to mention the amount of resources we'd need to use."

[And carrying around two items instead of an already prepared one isn't wasting resources?]

D.G. remained silent until he uttered a whispered curse, which elicited a breathy chuckle from Gaster.

"Alright, fine, you're right, but…" D.G trailed off when he caught sight of the three standing at the doorway, his ear flicking. "Good afternoon, your Majesties."

Gaster turned to face them, slowly blinking before hesitantly nodding.

At the very least, he wasn't flustered by their presence or attempting to seem noble or polite by bowing to them. It was slightly embarrassing when someone did that. At least to Asgore. He wasn't so sure about Toriel and Gerson.

"A nod and a good morning?" Gerson accused.

Well.

It was nice while it lasted.

"A nod and a good morning?! You should both be bowing to them on your knees!"

"We do that?" D.G said at the same time Gaster signed. [I am unsure of how to do that.]

"A-Ah, he's just messing with-" before Asgore could get any more words in, Gerson took D.G's head and pushed him to the ground.

"What the hell-?!"

"Like this!"

"Gerson, please-"

Gaster then got on his knees, looking at Gerson and asking. [Like this?]

"No… it's Gaster, right?" The man in question nodded, taking the hand that Asgore had extended to him and standing up. "Dr. Gaster, he's just messing with you, you don't need-"

"What're ya talking about, fluffy buns?" Asgore flushed at the nickname. "They gotta!"

"Yeah, 'Gorey." Toriel agreed with a serious nod. "It's extremely important."

"I wouldn't say that-"

"Lookit that, D.G! Toriel and Asgore agree with me!"

Alright, well, he was beginning to get annoyed by being cut off like this.

Asgore shook his head. "I never agreed-"

"And look at what Dr. Gaster's doing! Ya can't do something as simple as that?!" Gerson yelled.

Asgore just can't win, can he?

"You're pushing my head down, that's why!" D.G hissed.

"Then just get more muscle!" He laughed.

"I'm a scientist."

"And I'm the treasurer, but look at these gains!" He then flexed, showing more muscle than Toriel and Asgore combined. "Can't get these by doing finances!"

"Are you sure you're not on steroids!"

Gerson smacked him over the head. "No, I just ain't lazy!"

"I'm not lazy!"

In the midst of their bickering, Gaster's small smile had twisted into an enormous grin, turning to Asgore. [Are they always like this?]

"Yes." He exasperatedly answered, sighing through his nose.

His quiet huffs of a titter turned into a hearty kind of laugh, his shoulders quivering, and his laugh wheezy and breathy. Asgore could see the edges of his lips and the corner of his eyes wrinkled in amusement as he covered his mouth.

It was an awkward chuckle, as if he'd injured his voice chords in some manner, and as curious as he was to know what limited him to sign language, it'd be impolite to ask a stranger something that might be personal.

"Have you been enjoying working here?" Asgore asked after Gaster's laughter died down.

[Yes. It's been enjoyable thus far.] He answered.

"Well then, to reintroduce myself properly; howdy, I'm Asgore." He greets the man.

The man breathily laughs. [I'm Gaster. But feel free to call me W.D. if 'doctor' becomes too mouthy.]

"W.D. stands for Wing Dings, correct?"

He nods. [Yes, I don't exactly have a first name.]

"I've been meaning to ask, but why is that?"

[I didn't like my name, and eventually, I forgot it. Sure I can ask my parents what it was, but…] he shrugged.

Asgore's brow furrowed. "Your parents let you forget your name?"

He shook his head at this. [I'm adopted.]

"Oh, I see!" Asgore said. "I apologise if I was being rude."

[Barely. Though, if you're really sorry, could we borrow some flowers in that basket?]

Asgore looked down at the basket he held, slightly flushing. Ah… he forgot about this. "Of course! But uh… do you mind me asking for what?"

[I'm sure you overheard our conversation earlier, but we're experimenting with health items.] He answered. [In fact, we could use some help testing them, if you're willing.]

Asgore grinned. "I'd be more than willing."

And in a day, their trio had grown to a group of four.

Kris padded through the bustling street in late July, paying no heed to the eyes that espied them from the side. Venues and shops were set up along the walls, merchants hailing travellers, or the inhabitants of the city to try buying their merchandise. Jewels, wax, and tasty looking food were being sold, though, those were of little interest to them.

They weren't sure why they found themselves ambling along the muted purple pathway, or why they found themselves stalking the streets of this particular kingdom; perhaps they felt intrigued by this kingdom's presence? Wanting to explore a little further than what their original reason for being here was? Well, only time would tell, they supposed.

They glanced around with half-lidded eyes, somewhat surprised. Monsters and humans lived in unison in this kingdom, maybe one of the more peaceful kingdoms they'd seen during their previous travels. Two monster kids chasing a human kid in a game of tag, a human father and a monster mother chatting to one another, and human and monster guard laughing with one another; the ruler of this kingdom must've been an impressive one if they could keep unity, especially regarding the ongoing tension between the two races outside of this kingdom.

"Excuse me, young one!" Kris turned around, looking at the human woman with a cocked eyebrow. "Do you want to buy some apples? Freshly picked!"

They stared for a time, blinking slowly as if they didn't understand the question, before shaking their head and murmuring a quiet "no thank you," and walking away.

They continued walking forward, looking at what the sights had to offer.

There were offers of clothing, merchandise they could easily buy back home, and the common herb used for medicine and-or tea. It was a friendly scenery, unusual for the usual competition they were used to seeing back home, but friendly in an openly warm way.

Although there wasn't anything of note besides their own thoughts.

For a majority of their life, they were told monsters were this and that; violent creatures with nothing but the urge to take and take until there was nothing left, and that was simply not true, as evident by this kingdom's capital and how humans and monsters lived in peace together.

Still, it was a disorienting sight.

Different from the world their priests and mages had told them about.

Their steps eventually carried them to the end of the kingdom—city? Although kingdoms weren't rare, it was still strange to see a kingdom as open as this one was, especially when standing in front of this… castle, as they'll name it for now.

It wasn't as spectacular or opulent looking as many of the castles they'd seen on their various trips to other cities and kingdoms, but it was large enough to stand out from the rest of the kingdom's structures. Glorious, in its own right.

"Oh, you're a tourist!" A guard noted in surprise. Well, guard was a bit of a reach. They were too friendly and too much of an open book to actually ever guard something. Their spear was also fake and barely sharpened, existing only for the sake of etiquette and aesthetic.

Kris wanted to roll their eyes and snark back an "obviously," but they remained mute and nodded instead. They had noted a lack of Shabbats and carriers in the kingdom, and with Kris being the only one carrying an empty Shabbat, it was clear as day that they were a "tourist." They don't think they've even seen an actual weapon besides the guards "weapon."

"How're the sights so far?" They cheerfully asked. "It's not fairly common that we get travellers!"

This kingdom was far too friendly for what was happening outside of their walls, Kris noted. This kingdom was either stupidly friendly or stupidly naïve, maybe even both. Either way, their stay in this kingdom won't be for long anyhow.

"It's good." They respond simply, looking behind the guard to see how open the castle was. There was an arch in the centre of the massive gate where the "guard" was "guarding," and a clean, light purple path that led to another arch and inside the castle, flanked by a field of flowers on both sides. It was stunning in a way they'd never seen before—welcoming.

"What's in there?" They ask, nodding to the inside of the "castle."

The guard barely blinked before they answered. "That's our majesty's castle! It's open to visitors if you wish to go in!"

A low hum drew in their throat, staring at the structure for a moment.

Too friendly, their thoughts hummed.

Kris turned back to the guard with a nod. "I'd like to check it out."

"Alrighty, but uh…" the guard nodded to the scabbard. "We do draw the line at weapons."

They flashed the inside of the empty scabbard without any further word, and that was how Kris found themselves wandering through the halls, their steps both calculated and sauntered. The design of the Delta Rune emblem was plastered on most objects, with flowers in pots every few feet. It was amusing to them to see such colour in a supposed castle. It was more of a mansion that was homely rather than a castle.

If only there was a "welcome home" mat at the front of the gate, they silently muse to themselves.

They wandered through the halls, studying each object and room they passed without opening the doors. No need to make their presence obvious, after all.

For how grand it looked on the outside, the castle was simple in the interior. Though they noted the numerous flowers around the place. It wasn't like it was an odd sight, not like the friendliness everyone they passed by offered to them, but it was strange.

Everything about this kingdom seemed to be strange.

Open, friendly, welcoming, and words they wouldn't describe a place with a magnitude of influence this kingdom had.

And what was it that guard had said earlier? "They don't get many tourists?"

It was strange.

They would've expected a kingdom with as much influence as this one, with as much influence over its own people, to be more gluttonous for power and wealth.

But strange things have no need for such a thing, they guessed.

They gradually made their way to an open field behind the castle, trees cut down to a particular spot in the opening, lining the field as if it were a natural, makeshift gate, and from there, they saw a path that tailed off to somewhere, somewhere they couldn't see the end of. Trees stretched over the route and arched over the path, making room for anyone who dared to venture down it.

They were intrigued, but not yet; they'll investigate later.

And just as they turned around, that was when they saw four people up on a balcony staring down at them, slightly jolting at the sight of them.

The female goat monster laughs at their shocked expression, the human smirking, as the other two simply chuckled. They spoke words to each other for a moment before they turned back to them.

"Hey, what's your name?" The turtle asked.

Kris blinked.

This kingdom was really too friendly.

Asgore, Toriel, Gerson and W.D. were on their way to the upper floor library when they first spotted the visitor exploring the garden.

Their brown hair was dishevelled and cut to their lower neck, and their eyes were a dominant red. They donned a basic black robe that was cut into a triangle shape that reached just above their knees, and they sported an empty scabbard on their waist. They appeared to be 15 or 17 years old based on their face shape, but their expression was mature, something that only those who'd seen too much would usually wear.

It intrigued Gerson to no end to know what this human had seen to wear such an expression.

They watched as the human wandered around for a bit with an observational gaze, inspecting each of the flowers as if there was a puzzle hidden in each one, before they silently slinked further into the field. They didn't go too far out, which was a shame, since they would've run into the "traps" Toriel set up—traps being a pit or two that would have been enough to trip someone—but they were at least not picking or wrecking Asgore's flowers. Which was a plus. Not that Asgore probably would have minded.

After a while of watching them, Gerson leaned forward with his chin resting on the palm of his hand. He looked at the newcomer with wary eyes, and muttering below his breath just enough for the three of them to hear. "Why are humans so insistent on carrying mediaeval weapons? Wouldn't it be easier to just shoot us?"

[It is because hand held weapons do more damage to monsters than long distance.]

Asgore nodded his head in agreement. "Bows and guns are only effective against flying monster types, and even then, most monsters can't fly far enough where they're unreachable."

If flight was possible amongst monsters, like the Whimsuns, they would've already been taking advantage of it.

"It's impractical." Gerson said.

"I agree." Toriel says with a nod. "When you have monsters with magic like water droplets and fire like mine and Asgore's, hitting us with a stick won't do much."

W.D. side-eyed them before returning his focus to the human, who was looking off towards the path that led to the Flower Valley. [I wouldn't say that. Humans are capable of frightening things when cornered.]

"Like yourself?" Toriel asked.

He merely shrugged.

It was then that the traveller turned around and spotted them, their eyes widening as they took a slight step back in surprise. Asgore and Gerson chuckled. W.D. smirked, while Toriel lightheartedly laughed at the reaction.

"That was cute." Toriel said.

[With that sword, you would think they would be more self-aware of their surroundings.]

Gerson huffed. "Barely, ya see that shocked baby face? Doesn't have a chance at all. Plus, that Shabbat's empty."

"Maybe you should train them?" Asgore teased.

Now there was an idea.

Gerson liked hanging out with Asgore, Toriel, and W.D, that is if it's individually, and there were two reasons for that: one, Toriel and Asgore were dating, and two, Wing Dings, for the past month, had that 'I really like him (Asgore), but I can't say anything' vibe. He was fond of them. Really. No sarcasm there. But he felt like he was always fourth wheeling when he was with them.

He just needed someone to suffer alongside him. And who better to do it than this kid?

"You know what? Sure!"

"What?"

Before Asgore, Toriel or Wing Dings could get any more words in, Gerson yelled out to the tourist. "Hey, what's your name?"

The human blinked, then blinked again.

"…Kris." They introduced themselves unsurely, their leaden eyes gazing over the four.

"Watchu doin' down there for, then?!" He barked, flippantly waving to the teen. "Come up here and join us for a drink!"

Tea. He means tea. But this is funnier.

"I'm 17." They answered.

Gerson cackled. "And we're 19!"

Kris looked as if they were contemplating life ten times over.

And just like that, in the span of a month and with incessant pestering, their small group of four had grown to five.

Notes:

I'm not really proud of this chapter, but I had to get it out of the way. I promise the other chapters will be better and not rushed.

Fun fact: I based Gaster's design off of Spiderman Noir and Silco's design because it just made sense to make him look like that. The whole "chiselled/narrowed/anime chin" or "baby face" didn't really MATCH Gaster. To me, Gaster is an "intimidating but decent" looking kind of person. The kind of person you look at and nod your head and say "yeah, you're pretty decent looking, I'd date you".

Anyway, sorry for the rant! I'll leave you all be until next time!