W.D. Gaster (
voidster) wrote in
castle_perrault2017-02-11 06:26 pm
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Entry tags:
gaster blaster master caster disaster
Out by the edge, near sunset, someone is doing Something Very Stupid. It isn't the first time. One can only hope it will be the last.
It's not the worst thing he could be doing. He's 99% sure it won't kill him--it's only magic. He's successfully regained some skill with bone attacks and extra sets of hands, so why has this been so difficult? He misses them, even though they're really nothing more than echoes of his own personality, not creatures of their own right. He created them. He perfected them. He's proud of them.
To anyone watching, he doesn't look like he's doing anything. Standing stiff and still, hands clasped behind his back, watching the sun go down. Until something nearly as tall as he is explodes into being, floating in midair.
And then...
He starts to melt. He's overreached, he doesn't have the energy to keep his shape together. Legs sag and fuse, fingers drip like pudding, face loses all detail. Two minutes later, he's nothing more than a sad, mostly shapeless whiteblack lump of goo in the dirt. The Blaster skull nudges at him, like a huge curious nightmarish puppy.
Worth it.
It's not the worst thing he could be doing. He's 99% sure it won't kill him--it's only magic. He's successfully regained some skill with bone attacks and extra sets of hands, so why has this been so difficult? He misses them, even though they're really nothing more than echoes of his own personality, not creatures of their own right. He created them. He perfected them. He's proud of them.
To anyone watching, he doesn't look like he's doing anything. Standing stiff and still, hands clasped behind his back, watching the sun go down. Until something nearly as tall as he is explodes into being, floating in midair.
And then...
He starts to melt. He's overreached, he doesn't have the energy to keep his shape together. Legs sag and fuse, fingers drip like pudding, face loses all detail. Two minutes later, he's nothing more than a sad, mostly shapeless whiteblack lump of goo in the dirt. The Blaster skull nudges at him, like a huge curious nightmarish puppy.
Worth it.
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It's taking mental effort to keep himself a man-shaped torso on the bed... so he thins out a little more when distracted.
[I apologize, I didn't mean to. There's nothing wrong with a party. It sounds like a fine idea.]
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Relax a little, he doesn't mind. It's not like it's his home that'll need cleaned up after.
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Like right now.
He returns his gaze to the gloopy monster.
"Did you need anything? A drink? Food? A fan?"
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Speaking of.
[All I need is time. Time to pull myself together.]
Haha.
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[No, no--both a larger party and then a smaller reunion just for you?]
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"Oh. Mn, as tempting as that is, I think I'll stick with what I do best. Big and flashy."
A pause.
"Are you sure there's nothing I can do for you right now though?"
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[I'm... not sure. Sleep would, I think, as it usual does when we've overdone it with magic... if I felt like sleeping.]
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Honestly, he's not surprised Gaster isn't feeling sleepy. The man pushes himself far too much. Mettaton sighs, leaning back slightly and shaking his head.
"Should I grab a puzzle book for you?"
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[If you have one, yes.]
Definitely beats food and a nap.
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"I do."
... He might have bought some for a Papyrus. Mettaton moves off the bed, rummages through his desk, and retrieves a book, then returns to his previous spot.
"It's been untouched so far. Papyrus has gotten to most of them."
Nervous smile.
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True or not, all puzzles should belong to Papyrus. He can solve them on blank paper, if he needs to.
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You can never have enough puzzle books.
"I'm sorry I don't have much else to entertain you with."
Asides from himself, that is.
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Truth, and truth, and he's flipping through the book with hands less busy. It'll be alright. He has his satchel and a pencil, and this is hardly the worst day of his life.
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"As long as you're content, I suppose."
And he'll spend the rest of his day with the elder monster until he's recovered.