#i gave in | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

findmeabowlofundertale · 3 months

Text

So, I mentioned the “long version” of that last bit of Asteri’s story… and decided I’m just gonna post it. It is long. Things are subject to change but this is how I’m working through my headcanons.

Here’s the art that immediately precedes this, and the part that follows this

- - - -

She did it. She literally just went up to the most renowned scientist in the entire underground and asked if he had a moment to talk about fonts.

And he had turned around, surprised, and then grinned and said sure.

And now they were sitting in the coffee shop he’d just come out of, and he was looking at her expectantly— though not, it seemed, impatiently— and she was frozen. This was not even remotely what she had expected. What had she expected? Well… she supposed she’d expected a much older looking man, though maybe skeletons were just like that? He certainly seemed energetic and peppy for someone who had, according to rumor, been alive since before the war. Maybe it really was just a rumor… But even so, she hadn’t anticipated that the most brilliant scientific mind in the underground would even consider sparing her a moment, much less suggest sitting down to talk! He even offered her some donuts. (Though perhaps it was just to be polite… but there was a lemon-filled one in there, and it looked so good, so maybe it wouldn’t be rude if she took him up on the offer and just ate one.)

She also hadn’t expected him to use sign language. (Though, seeing him summon magical hands to sign with while his actual hands were holding the donuts and a cup of coffee did make her feel better about her own lack of hands, and subsequently the magical ones she had to summon sometimes. She was a bit self-conscious of them.) He wasn’t deaf, it seemed, he’d heard her greet him from behind, and she didn’t exactly have lips to read. So, mute? Well, it wasn’t her business, and she wasn’t about to pry, but she was now more hesitant to ask her questions. What if it was insensitive to ask about how fonts were spoken if he couldn’t speak? Wasn’t that sort of a big part of skeleton society?? God, she had no idea what she was doing. But he did seem excited to talk to her… for some reason.

Apparently she’d been quiet for too long, because the doctor finally asked, “What would you like to know?”

Could she say “everything”? Probably not. She cleared her throat. This was no time to lose focus. Courteous as he was being, he probably still had a tight schedule. She needed to make the most of this opportunity.

“Well, uh, there are a couple things.” And of course she didn’t have her notes. “For one, I was wondering if uh, i-if different types of monsters speak in different fonts. S-See, I’m really interested in how some of the monsters in Waterfall speak, like the Temmies! I know their grammar and pronunciation is a bit strange, but it seems like more than that. And- And Aarons! It seems like they’re… like they’re winking at you, almost? When they talk? If that makes any sense?? Or Woshuas! Something about their pronunciation of second person pronouns, sometimes, is really similar to Temmies, but I haven’t been able to find any cultural ties or parallels that might indicate why? Temmies keep to themselves, and Woshuas do too unless they’re cleaning something, but there’s not… um…”

She looked up, flushing at the realization that she’d started rambling instead of asking this like a dignified academic.

“I-I apologize, Doctor, I got carried away.”

He surprised her, though. He didn’t look bored, or irritated. He was smiling. (Well— he seemed to have a perpetual smile, but it changed, in small ways.) And his eyes sparkled with genuine interest. More than any of that surprised her though, was the fact that he laughed. Not at her, no, he laughed like someone who was actually delighted with the conversation, like someone who couldn’t wait to share a piece of interesting information. And darn if it wasn’t the most charming thing she’d ever heard.

(Maybe he wasn’t mute?? Gah, it still wasn’t her business.)

His gaze turned back to her, eyes still crinkled in a smile and alight with amusement. “No need to apologize,” he signed. “You ask excellent questions. I can’t say I’ve met another monster who has ever noticed such patterns enough to mention them. I suppose I began to think that only skeletons noticed such things.”

Crap. Maybe the was a bad idea after all—

“It is refreshing to meet someone who can… hear, for lack of a better word, the patterns in others’ words.”

Oh. Maybe not.

“To answer your question, no. Different monsters do not speak in different fonts, though that is an excellent theory for what you have described, for one who cannot see the speech of others. Only skeletons speak in different fonts.”

Asteri wasn’t sure whether to deflate or puff out her chest. At least he didn’t seem condescending. Still, her theory that she’d been sitting on for over a year now had been shot down, just like that. There had to be some explanation! “Then… is there anything remarkable about the way Temmies’ speech looks? Or any of the other monsters I mentioned?”

At this, Dr. Gaster chuckled. No, that wasn’t the right word. It was more like… like a giggle. Asteri almost couldn’t believe it.

“Yes. Temmies’ speech has varying capitalization in the middle of words and sentences. Spoken grammar aside, they also use improper grammar for written language as well. For example, they sometimes use the letter “u” in place of the word “you.””

As he finger spelled the explanation of “you” versus “u,” several things began to click into place in Asteri’s mind. She learned forward in excitement, eyes glittering. “Woshuas! They say it the same way! Do they say the letter instead of the word as well?”

Dr. Gaster smiled knowingly. Almost, dare she say, proudly. “Indeed they do.”

This was too fascinating. How she wished she had her notes! “What about Aarons?”

He made a face somewhere between amusement and fond exasperation, though it didn’t seem to be directed at her. “Aarons actually append “emoticons” to their speech. I believe the particular one they often use is called a…” He paused for a moment, seeming to search for the right term, before grimacing slightly, like he was unsure if he was about to say the right thing. “… a “winky face?””

Asteri stared at him. “You’re pulling my leg.”

“I am not!” He laughed again, just a little. “They really do!”

She sat back in her seat to process that. “Incredible…” So there really was an explanation for those seemingly inexplicable speech patterns. Monsters’ speech was literally reflective of their personalities and cultures, beyond just their word choice and inflection. There was a whole other layer to it, one she never would have been able to figure out on her own. She shook her head in wonder. “Absolutely incredible.”

Dr. Gaster seemed quite pleased. “Glad I could be of assistance. Miss…? Or is it Doctor? I apologize for presuming.”

“Oh! Oh my god, I never introduced myself. I’m so sorry. No, not doctor. Heh, maybe one day. My name is Asteri.”

He perked up slightly. “Ms. Asteri. A nice name. Not unlike Aster. That was a common font.”

She paled slightly. What did she say to that? “O-Oh? Yeah, my parents… they missed the stars, so they named me after them. That’s why I grew up in Waterfall, as well.”

He nodded, humming in agreement. “The ceiling stars. Yes, beautiful. But they pale in comparison to the real ones…”

Well, that answered how old he was. Best not let the conversation wander to something painful, though. His eyes looked far away.

“Um! So, Aster? You said it was a common font?”

“Ah.” Oh, that was a verbal sound. “Yes, you had questions about fonts. Please, go ahead.”

She swallowed. Here went nothing. “So, if… other monsters don’t use different fonts, just different capitalization, grammar, and punctuation patterns, then… what are fonts, exactly?”

This question apparently did not offend him, thank goodness. In fact, he looked rather excited to talk about it. “Fonts are exactly what they seem like: different styles of letters. Typefaces. For skeletons, they are also our names. Aster, Calibri, Arial, Palatino Linotype, Lucida Calligraphy, Garamond, Impact, Stencil… For the most part, they do not affect how our speech… sounds. It is difficult to describe, forgive me. The way speech sounds and the way it looks is not always easy to explain as separate concepts.

“There are— were— different types of fonts that a skeleton could have. Serif, sans serif, handwriting, stylized or artistic, and ciphers. The first two were the most common. Handwriting, stylized, and artistic fonts were less so. And ciphers were the rarest. Cursive or calligraphic handwriting fonts were smoother sounding, lilting, flowing. Sometimes they sounded more pretentious. Stylized and artistic fonts tended to sound more… unique. Louder, but not in actual volume. Similar to uppercases, but in a different way. Sometimes they were more difficult to understand, but whether that was because they sounded different or simply were more difficult to read, I… I do not remember.”

Having summoned a magical hand, Asteri had located a pen and taken to frantically scribbling on a napkin, absolutely enthralled. She’d have to come back to what he meant by uppercases. At this point, she was too intrigued to filter her questions through the previous levels of politeness. “Was there any, um, separation o-or class associations to certain kinds of fonts?”

Dr. Gaster shook his head. “No. Not usually. Though with one general exception.” He did not elaborate on that exception, so she didn’t ask. “As we aged, we usually learned to use more than one font. Some skeletons would adopt one that they felt better fit their personality and changed their name. But generally, the font we first speak is our name, and the one that is most… comfortable.” He hesitated, as if he was going to say more, but ultimately rested his hands on the table and went for another donut.

“That’s so interesting.” She meant it, too. “What, um, what was the purpose of learning multiple fonts?”

“Another excellent question!” He sat up straighter and smiled again, looking like a professor about to explain a topic he was particularly fond of. Though, Asteri supposed he had sort of had that air about him this entire time. He would have been a fun professor… But that train of thought was swiftly derailed within the split second it took to form as he began signing again. “Fonts can be used to express ourselves! That is what magic is primarily used for, no? In everyday life, that is. Many of us had fairly fixed facial expressions, as I do. I was considered on the more expressive side, if that is any indication. While eye glowing was one way to express ourselves, it more often indicated mood and intention. Font changes could indicate tone, familiarity, and context. For example, if one were to give a highly formal presentation to a group of academics, it was generally considered good form to speak in a more proper, serifed font. There were exceptions, of course, for those who were too young to have learned multiple fonts, or who were unable to.”

Before Asteri could ask what he meant by ‘unable to learn other fonts,’ he took a bite of his donut and kept going.

“It was not unacceptable to speak in one’s own font in such situations, that is. It was simply a custom to use serifs for academic or other formal purposes. Sans serif fonts were generally more casual, though not always. Calibri, for example, was considered a formal sans serif font. I knew a Calibri, actually… brilliant mind.” He shook his head after a second, as if to clear the memory away. “Colorful or artistic fonts could be used emphatically or for comedic purposes. Handwriting fonts, such as various calligraphies, might be used if reciting poetry or prose, singing a love song, or to emphasize the elegance of something. More straightforward handwriting fonts were common among the much older skeletons, and were used between old friends, or, among us younger ones, to show a level of familiarity and friendship. A bit like giving someone a handwritten letter, but aloud. However, it was also common for skeletons who were very close to speak each other’s fonts. Families, for example. Children, naturally, learned their parents’ fonts, and parents learned their children’s fonts. If they did not, it was assumed that they did not have a warm relationship, unless there were circumstances that prevented the learning of other fonts. Married couples, of course, learned each other’s fonts, as did many close friends. There were many contexts for speaking to a person in their own font, you see…” He finished his donut and continued. “By the end of their life, a skeleton could usually speak in, at the very least, a dozen fonts. Oftentimes, it was much more than that. It was generally considered polite in academic circles to use the font of the person you were citing or quoting from, so scholarly skeletons often could speak many, many more. As society went on, and more fonts developed, it was increasingly common for people to know many fonts. It came much more naturally to some, who may not have ever needed to see a font spoken before to speak it themselves.”

Asteri’s head was spinning. This was utterly fascinating. She was running out of napkins to write on. And she still had so many questions! Where to even start?

“I— um, firstly, wow! This is- This is amazing. Second, I, uh, I have some questions! I thought you said other fonts besides serifed and sans serif were uncommon? But people still used them? S-Sorry, I might have misunderstood.”

Dr. Gaster shook his head. “Do not apologize for questions. They are how we learn. Yes, other fonts like handwriting and artistic or stylized fonts were uncommon, but not in the sense that they were not spoken. I did not explain. They were uncommon as a skeleton’s personal font. It was not often that one was born speaking, for example, League Script. A cursive font. But it could be spoken with only a little more difficulty than common fonts. The more complex a font, the less common it was as a skeleton’s personal font. Though, if two skeletons with, for example, calligraphic fonts had a child, there was a higher chance that child would have a cursive or calligraphic font, but it was not guaranteed. That is why there was rarely any sense of class division by font; there was no guarantee that two fonts would produce a similar font in their offspring.”

Asteri nodded as she finished scribbling that down. “That makes sense.”

The temptation to ask what his font was— or used to be— was becoming almost unbearable, but she mentally elbowed herself with the reminder that it wasn’t her business. If he wasn’t sharing, then he didn’t want to. She had other questions anyway.

“You’ve mentioned a few times that some skeletons couldn’t… learn other fonts?”

At this he nodded, more seriously this time. “Yes.”

Immediately sensing the shift in tone, she hurriedly spoke again before he could get into it. She didn’t want him to feel obliged to explain everything she asked about just because he hadn’t spoken to anyone about his people’s culture in so long.

“Um! You don’t have to tell me about it, though, if you don’t want! Please, please tell me if I overstep at all. I don’t know what’s rude to ask about. We can talk about something different! Uhh! W-What about….” She quickly flipped through her napkin notes. “Ciphers! You, uh, you mentioned those at the beginning, but haven’t since. What, uh! What sort of context were those used in?”

Dr. Gaster studied her for a moment, a sort of weariness now where the former excitability had been earlier. Still, it didn’t feel directed toward her— it seemed many things weren’t. He was still for a few seconds, a distant, tired-looking smile in place, but then resumed signing. “Subterfuge. Secrets. Spying. As I said, very rare.”

“O-Oh…” It felt like she had crossed a line. What line, exactly, she wasn’t sure, but there was something. “I’m… I assumed you meant rare like you did with other fonts. Like being born speaking…” She trailed off, then smiled awkwardly. “Aha, I’m sorry, I guess maybe that’s silly of me to have assumed someone would naturally speak in a cipher.”

His smile tightened, just a little. It looked ever so slightly… pained? “It is a little silly, isn’t it?”

She felt her face heat up with magic. At least he hadn’t berated her. “Um! Can I ask about them? Like, what they sounded like?”

He didn’t answer at first. It seemed like he was debating over something in his mind. Asteri tried not to fidget under the silence.

“I am unsure I could describe them,” he responded at last. “To skeletons, the sound of speech and the shape of words are so intertwined that describing the sound of words that do not look like other words, independently of their shape is… alien. It is like trying to describe the complexities of different foods to someone who can only sense the taste but not the texture.”

“Oh… I see,” said Asteri, admittedly a little disappointed. “What did they look like, then?”

Dr. Gaster’s smile returned. “That, I can show you. May I?” He gestured to her pen, which she handed over. While he wrote on a new napkin, a pair of bluish magical hands manifested near him to sign. “There were several ciphers. Zapf Dingbats, Pigpen, Runes of the Dragon, just to name a few. Here is Pigpen, a well-known and simple cipher. Once one understands how it works, its symbols have clear correspondence to the common alphabet, with an intuitive ordering and pattern.”

He turned the napkin around to face her, and she studied it. Oh, yes, she’d seen this before. A simple “code” some of the other children knew and shared when she was young. She had no idea it could be spoken. No, she couldn’t say she had any idea what this would sound like spoken aloud.

“I’ve seen this before, actually,” she told him with a smile. “I didn’t realize it was a font.”

He returned the smile. “One of the oldest ciphers.”

They continued their conversation for a long time. A bit more about the looks of ciphers— none were as straightforward as Pigpen, apparently, but he didn’t linger on the topic for long. More on the intricacies of different fonts and their contextual usage, more about skeleton culture, and onto other linguistic topics. It went on much, much longer than Asteri had anticipated. In fact, it only really ended because the owner of the shop told them that it was closing time. They stood and left, and she hadn’t noticed earlier in her tizzy, but he was tall, even taller than she was, which was pretty considerable to begin with.

Once they were outside, she stopped and turned to face him, unable to help the grin that split her face even more than usual and crinkled her eyes. “I can’t thank you enough, Dr. Gaster. For your time, and for everything you shared. It was an- an invaluable learning experience.”

If she was grinning, he was beaming. “I was happy to share. As I said at the beginning, I have not had the chance to talk about my people’s history and culture in many, many years. Decades, at least, if not a century or more. I truly enjoyed this. I would have liked to hear more about your work, Ms. Asteri, if not for shop closing.” He looked down at the nearly empty box tucked under one arm. “Thank you for helping me eat all of those donuts, by the way.”

She waved her wings back and forth in front of her. She knew she should have stopped after that first lemon-filled one. “No, no! Thank you for letting me have some! I feel bad for whoever you were going to share them with. If I’d been thinking I would have bought you another box of them before the shop closed.”

“They were all for me anyway,” he responded, swiftly and flatly.

Asteri tried and failed to hold in a snort of startled incredulity, which was immediately followed by a poorly restrained giggle. God, no, she couldn’t laugh at the Royal Scientist, no matter how unexpected…!

Dr. Gaster grinned, rather slyly actually, at this and continued before she try to apologize. “You did not deprive anyone of tasty confections,” he declared. “Only saved me from eating the entire box.”

She muffled another snicker.

He feigned mild offense. “I could get heart disease from all these, you know.”

At that, she burst into laughter. The late hour combined with the absurdity of it all: the Royal Scientist, a centuries-old skeleton, standing here outside a donut shop cracking jokes about his horrendously unhealthy eating habits and the very notion that he could, as a result, somehow get—

“High cholesterol! Diabetes! At the very least, a horrible stomachache. Look, Ms. Asteri, you’ve done wonders for my arteries.”

She howled. He grinned.

“At least for tonight.”

As she caught her breath, she shook her head. Dr. Gaster had been nothing like she had thought. “Well, I’m glad I could help you in that regard,” she said at last.

He hesitated, glancing away for a moment. “I truly did enjoy our conversation, and I meant what I said about wishing to hear more about your work. My schedule is rather… erratic. But if you wouldn’t be opposed, perhaps, when there is time, you could tell me more of your findings?”

Her eyebrows shot upward, eyes widening. “Oh, um! Sure! I didn’t think you’d— But if you want, then…?”

His eyes lit up— literally. A pale green surrounded them as he beamed and whipped out his phone. “Wonderful! Here, let me give you my phone number.”

Alright, this was happening??

“If I don’t answer, I am just busy, so try again at a different time!”

“A-Alright…”

“I mean it. I am very difficult to get ahold of, but not out of disinterest. I simply get distracted.”

“Okay, sure. That’s fair.” Like hell she was going to just call up one of the most important people in the underground to see if he was free to chat. This was a fluke. No matter how much he enjoyed it, there was no way this would end up happening again. So there was no need to start a game of phone tag.

“And…” He looked a bit sheepish. “May I have yours as well?”

Asteri blinked. Oh. “Y-Yeah. Sure, that’s fine.”

He handed her his phone, she put her number in and saved herself as a contact, then gave it back.

“Thank you.”

“Sure, no problem.”

Silence.

The first awkward silence since she’d asked about skeletons who couldn’t learn other fonts.

“Well! I- I wish you safe travels home, Ms. Asteri. I should… also leave.”

“Right! Yes. Thank you! Um. S-Safe travels to you, also.”

“Ah, well, I live… a few streets away.”

She wanted to crawl into a hole. Obviously he lived in the capital!! Her whole face warmed. He looked almost just as awkward about having corrected her.

“Okay, um, g-goodnight, then, Doctor!”

“Yes, goodnight!”

As she turned and left (using all of her self-restraint not to take off running— until she turned a corner, at least) she comforted herself with the thought that at least she wouldn’t ever get to talk to him again, following that unbelievably awkward farewell. She got tons of amazing information, had a wonderful time, and now she could just leave it at that. No worries about following up, no need to agonize over what she would say next time to make up for whatever had just happened. She wasn’t ever going to see him again. Because like hell she was going to call up the Royal Scientist. And there was no chance he would be the one to contact her. No, they were both busy professionals, and he was certainly even busier than her. She was sure that a man as busy as he was wouldn’t even notice that she never called. This had absolutely been a coincidence, a fortunate happenstance, and no attempts at contact or planning would replicate this. Which was fine! This would just be a great story to tell her friends and peers. No, she had no preconceptions that she and Dr. Gaster would ever speak again.

Until her phone rang with his number a month and a half later.

#i gave in #im just straight up writing a story now ig #asteri #asteri backstory #gaster #seeker oc #long post #seeker writes #⁂#⁂ fic #⁂ gaster

3 notes · View notes