#very rare to see him use asgore or toriel's names since he's so obsessed with protocol

[zarla-s]

hiya! big fan of handplates (and i love vargas too :3), you did such an amazing job on the whole story, wrapped it up in a rare, satisfying way. you don't have to answer this, but i was looking for a post where you mentioned gaster's sign names for various people - i think toriel and asgore had queen/king involved, alphys maybe the handshape a, etc. - but i can't find it anywhere. do you know where you've posted that, or anything else about gaster's signing? thanks for reading, have a nice day!

Thank you very much! :D If I remember right, Gaster's sign names go...

Asgore - A+King

Toriel - T+Queen

Alphys - A+Smart

Then I don't think he had ones for anyone else, he wasn't really very close to many people. It's kind of funny cause you only see him use Asgore's once, when he's begging him not to declare war. It's the only time he ever says his name if I remember right!

He uses Alphy's sign-name more often though, you can probably catch it in a few places but this one comes to mind immediately.

I don't think he ever used Toriel's though in the comic...

If he did get close to Undyne, he might use U+Spear or U+Strong for her, but I think it's unlikely they'd get that familiar. I can't picture him getting close enough to Mettaton to come up with a name for him. I think he just used formal titles for Asriel as well. He wouldn't refer to the kid as anything other than Human, haha.

(He doesn't have names for Sans and Papyrus since he can just say their names normally and they can understand him. :B)

[index]

[the-river-person]

Monster History in the Librarby

Niven was getting ready to close the Library for the night. All the usual patrons had gone home already. Both of the editors for the Snowdin Newspaper, as well as the Loox that often hung around by the tables and played word games like crosswords, junior jumble, or soduku. Speaking of which, Lady Garf, one of the editors of the newspaper who specialized in making games for it, had left a few of the ones she’d been working on. With a sigh he collected the pages and stored them behind the main desk, he’d have to remember to give it to her tomorrow. The bell on the door tinkled and Niven looked up to say that they were actually just about to close. But the words died on his lips and he stared at the person who had come in. Face hidden by a dark cloak, they were somewhat tall, nearly reaching the height of Sir Papyrus, captain of the Royal Guard. Though he couldn’t see their face, he caught a glimpse of white fur. Was it Ice Wolf? Just a little over a year ago he’d started coming in every few months to check out books to read during his work breaks. No, Ice Wolf was much bigger. “Is this the Librarby?” Asked the figure, a male voice, deep yet not unpleasant, almost musical really. Niven grimaced at the question. He’d once harbored hopes of getting the sign repainted. But there really wasn’t any point now, was there? Not only had everybody just gotten used to it, but even if he did repaint it, the sign would just reset along with everything else in a few short weeks. It wasn’t worth the effort, but it still irritated him. Forcing himself to smile he quickly decided just to see what this Monster wanted before closing up. “Yes, it is. We don’t usually see too many non-locals in here. Most just pass by on their way to the ruins or the Greater Snowdin Caverns. Are you from the Capital?” “You could say that,” said the figure, sounding mildly amused. They offered no further explanation, and Niven decided not to push his luck further that way. “What can I do for you?” For a moment the Monster was silent, looking round the small library as if gauging its potential somehow. Not for the first time, Niven wished for the resources to make a much grander library, something akin to the great libraries he’d read of in human books: Ashurbanipal, Alexandria, Pergamum, Villa of the Papyri, Trajan’s Dual Library, Celsus, the Imperial Library of Constantinople, House of Wisdom in Baghdad, "Dharmaganja" ("Treasury of Truth") and Dharma Ghunj ("Mountain of Truth") in India’s Nalanda University. There were so many, and all he had was a few shelves. A couple histories, fiction, somone’s book report left here years ago and never retrieved (it was gleefully shelved as something new and at least 3 people had checked it out since for the sheer novelty), poetry, only a single science book about astronomy, and an entire shelf devoted to joke books and word games. But if someone was really coming out here, far from the Capital, to look for something specific. Well... They had to be desperate. New Home’s public library was much bigger, and if you couldn’t find something, you might humbly petition the King and Queen for access to the castle archives in the chance it might be there. Nobody came to a tiny town at the edge of civilization. Well... they did come. Sometimes they even bought things at the general store or stayed a the inn. But that was really just people on their way to the Ruins after Reset Day, the crowds and the general traffic as Monsters carried out their plans for the next three weeks. Getting puzzles ready for the famous DT and Royal Guardsman Monster Kid, who lived right here in said small town. So some people came through, a lot of people. But not for books. Never for the librarby that hadn’t even spell its name right when the sign was painted. “I’m hoping,” said the Monster. “That you might have texts on Monster History from before the war. History, perhaps theology? Mythology and folklore? I’ll take anything you’ve got.” Oh, so that’s what he wanted. Niven gulped. Okay so maybe it wasn’t accurate that nobody had been coming to their tiny library from out of town. There was that person from the capital he’d only seen once, a shifty fellow who was supposed to be a castle servant. White hair, pale purplish skin, and a terrifying grin with sharp yellow teeth. Niven had been freaked out by the Monster’s weird face markings and the J like tail that had lashed back and forth in agitation. Jevil, or so he had said his name was, had been after books on Monster Religion. It was a surprising subject, one few cared about. But Niven had a couple of rare tomes on it, possibly texts even the Royal Archives didn’t have. And that, it turned out, was the entire point. Jevil was a scribe in the Royal Archives and kept the smaller of the castle’s two libraries in good order for the King and Queen’s more general use. Thankfully he hadn’t come again after the first time, having taken a stack of books with him. He sent them back a month later, along with a few coins for the late fees, and asked for more books, naming each specifically. So Niven had shipped them off to the Capital, and sure enough they returned the next month with a request for more books. Sans the skeleton had become a familiar face as he came by so often to pick up or deliver boxes of books headed for the weird little Monster. And Jevil wasn’t the only one. Ice Wolf had been checking out the weirdest things. Niven would have expected a joke book, or even an interesting novel, but no. Ice Wolf wanted to read about physics and geology and historical documents and traditions. Niven hadn’t had much cause to write to the Capital Public Library in... well ever really. But to get some of the texts Ice Wolf wanted he pulled up his sleeves and penned message after message requesting various books until someone came down about nine weeks in to ask why on earth there was suddenly more book traffic going to Snowdin. “Oh, heh heh.” He laughed nervously. “I believe we do have some things. If you’ll come this way please.” The Monster followed him into the lower levels of the library, a section which held most of the least circulated books and materials available only by request. He really needed to dust down here, now where was the light? Ah yes. A dim bulb flickered to life, bathing the shelves in a warming and distinctly yellow light. From the shelves he pulled book after book, most dusty, a few with a little water damage, and many quite old. These he stacked before the Monster, who shifted in surprise as he looked over the growing pile. As Niven set another book on the pile he caught a better glimpse of the face beneath the hood. A white furred goat-like face with black markings on his lower cheeks and eyes of a dark muted red. Niven almost dropped the books in surprise but hid his reaction by faking a sneeze, though maybe with all the dust in here it really wasn’t that fake. This was a Boss Monster! But not Asgore, not nearly tall enough and certainly much thinner. But not the motherly Toriel either. It didn’t make sense, all the other Boss Monsters had been killed in the war, only the King and Queen had made it Underground with the others. And the only other Boss Monster living since then had been... Hadn’t Asriel Dreemurr become a flower? How had he regained his body? Or... something similar. It wasn’t quite a child anymore, though not yet an adult. Somewhere in between if appearance was anything to go by. A teenager maybe. That didn’t make sense either as his age should have been tied to Asgore and Toriel’s, and none of them could age anyway with the Resets, but maybe being a flower did odd things to you. Niven watched out of the corner of his eye as the prince began flipping through some of the books. “Monsters and Humans have always dwelt together in the world, though the nature of this coexistence had been woven together with myth, legend, and superstition for thousands of years.” Asriel read the passage from a “Brief History of Monsters and Humans”, it was volume nine of the collection, which was anything but brief. The author had been criticized for his long winded and needlessly flowery language. Still it made for good reading, if you had the time for it. “Owing to the nature of Monster’s Souls and the intrinsic connection their magical bodies have to the state of their soul, Humans were often under the mistaken impression that the Monster Clans were more numerous than they really were. As new generations of Monsters were born, they sometimes took on new and often unique forms different from their elders, forms that matched the state of their very soul.” The Prince broke off reading and looked up at Niven, who suddenly realized he’d stopped taking books off the shelves and had been staring as he listened. Flushing, the Lizard started to turn back to the shelf. “Is that why some of the Monsters around are things like Aeroplanes or shaped like bathtubs and obsessed with washing? Because they were born with new forms?” Niven turned back around. It was a good question, and not really covered that well in schools. Sure they touched on the subject, but no one really focused on the implications of how Monster Souls behaved. “Well, more or less. You have to understand that Monsters such as the Tsundereplane couldn’t have been born until Monsters learned of the existence of human airplanes. And anime of course. Then when this new Monster was born, their soul manifested a body that fit who they were at their foundations, the most basic structure of all the things they could become. We Monsters don’t have much control over this, we can’t shift our own forms at will, but our appearance is far more closely tied to who we are than you would think. Creatures like Woshua were born of groups of water dwelling Monsters. Humans often characterized us with names like Fay or Fairy, Spirits, Daemons, and lots of other things. And human folklore has a lot of tales about faeries who insist upon cleanliness and washing, often enacting terrible punishment if specified arrangements weren’t kept, like leaving washing water out at night for them to bathe in, or having a strict routine of personal hygiene while living in an area where said fairy has to deal with you often. Sound familiar? At some point the bathtub must have been an image they focused on, and at some point a Monster child was born with that form as part of who they were.” Asriel nodded, forgetting that he was trying to hide his face and letting the hood slip down a bit as he listened with wide eyes. Just barely visible in the upper shadows of the hood were his horns, not terribly big, just poking up from the white tufts of fur. “Alright,” he said. “I’ll take this one. And these.” He plucked another four books from the pile. “Can you hold the rest for me?” Niven found himself agreeing to do just that as he followed Asriel back up the stairs and let him out. As he locked up and turned out the lights, he wondered why nobody had heard anything about the prince yet if he was back to his true self?