The position of Royal Scientist was not strictly talent-based, nor actually necessary for the running of the underground, but it was heavily vied for. The Royal Scientist didn't have to worry about funding, and the King largely gave them free reign, so long as specific requests and routes of investigation were humored.

W.D. Gaster, an assistant to the current Royal Scientist, mostly had his eyes on the position so he could stop being under anyone's thumb.

As it was, he was not the current Royal Scientist. The gilled Royal Scientist didn't look like they'd kick it anytime soon. So Gaster was stuck where he was for the moment. Watching over the result of the King's newest request.

With as few monsters as the underground had, and with promise of another war on the (distant) horizon, it really wasn't so unusual for scientists to either test things on themselves or create a subject for testing, rather than risk a guard member or civilian. The current project was a rather interesting combination of both subject options—several long weeks ago, Gaster had been asked to scrape off a bit of the surface of his arm bone to be used in a cloning experiment, working on the assumption that the simpler the form, the simpler it would be to adjust its properties to DT. There were few monsters simpler than skeletons.

Of course, the whole thing was starting to look like a load of shit from where Gaster was sitting. The little skeleton had definitely been warped and deformed by the DT vat they'd submerged him in, which was a bit disturbing to look at, but, the bottom line was: CS-1 was inanimate

He always had been, and it looked like he always would be.

From where the little body was laid out on the table, the bones all stayed in place, held together by a magical magnetism that might've been understood as a form of homeostasis, but it was a brittle magnetism that meant if Gaster wanted, he could have reached over and pulled the little skeleton's arms off without exerting any more force than he needed to pick up a full mug of tea in the morning. What little magic did reside in CS-1 to hold him together was directly the result of an IV modified to be useful to skeletons—standard injections were a bit difficult when you were nothing but bone, marrow, and magic—that kept up a steady flow of magic to keep the body stable. So even if homeostasis could've been argued, it was an artificial one, like keeping a cut flower in a cooler to stop it from wilting so quickly.

He had no response to stimuli. Adaption was a bit off the table. CS-1 hadn't undergone growth since his removal from the tube he was initially cloned in.

Grumbling in wingdings, Gaster clicked his fingers and twitched his hands, knowing no one else in the lab really knew how to understand the gestures' meanings. At the same time, he tapped his pen against his clipboard, glancing once more at the bed where the little skeleton lay on a thin mattress, covered only by a light blue blanket. His ribcage was partly exposed, his eyes closed, and his jawbones set into a smile much wider than any Gaster had ever had as a child.

The DT soak really had done a number on him. If nothing else, they were getting some data from that experience.

…They were probably getting nothing else out of this, and even though Gaster was not head scientist, he certainly had other projects he would've been much happier to observe than CS-1.

Still. Science was science, and the vast majority of science was waiting impatiently for something boring to do something cool.

It didn't seem like that was going to happen anytime soon, though, so Gaster sighed, clicked his fingers a bit more, and put his pen to paper, filling out the hour's observation slot in standard writing, rather than wingdings. These notes had to be accessible, however identical they were to all the reports before.

No magical fluctuation

No chemical fluctuation

No noticeable physical growth

No response to standard stimuli tests

Mutations stabilized—bone mass fully solidified and shows no signs of further malleability

There was some temptation to add no noticeable point for me to keep doing this, but he resisted, instead tapping out a quiet if this were anymore pointless, it'd be a circle on the side of his folding chair, when he heard a sound that didn't come from his hand.

It didn't sound like any of his coworkers entering, nor like any of the machines in the room—it was a rather sparse room, in fact, and Gaster had spent enough time inside it these last few weeks he was certain he'd heard just about every sound that came out of it.

He might have dismissed it as his imagination, had it not been for the faint pressure of magical energy that accompanied it, and the sudden lack of sound from one of the sparse machines in the room.

The M2MM had fallen silent. No alarm, no quiet hum of an alternating magical current, just the sudden lack of the constant buzz of measurement. Gaster looked up, confused and verging on startled. He intended to check the M2MM and make sure the linked IV hadn't also somehow failed, but froze.

CS-1 opened his eyes.

Gaster shoved his clipboard and pen aside, letting out several startled gestures before he could fully process what he was seeing.

A blue glow—like fire, like plasma—erupting out of CS-1's eyes, before it flashed to yellow and back again to cyan.

CS-1 blinked when Gaster stood. The flashing irises flicked to his position, still spitting out gobs of energy that sputtered into the air and rolled down his cheeks.

A splatter of magic flew higher into the air than the others, flicking by Gaster's face close enough to sear. It missed, though. For the most part, it missed. But it was still hot and stung like a burn.

Gaster leapt away from the attack, fighting down the urge to call his blasters. Instead, he swung his arm wide, summoning the discarded clipboard and using it as a shield against the assault.

He raced to the call button on the wall, jabbing it into activation and spoke so quickly he fell into wingdings before his brain could catch up and translate.

CS-1 is awake and volatile in room 274. Repeat—

CS-1 is awake.

000

sup motherfuckers i'm in bolivia fighting my way through bad internet connections and boredom to bring you this. I got in deep into undertale since Christmas and all I really want is a story for Sans' past that doesn't involve Gaster being a horrible, abusive douche. Good Guy Gaster who adopts highly unstable experiments and teaches them metaphysics. That's what I'm here for.

while starting ch 2, I realized that, by necessity, I'd need a bunch of OCs to populate Gaster's lab and the Capital, as background coworkers and interactions if nothing else. So send me in some OCs! They can be yours you've had for years or they can be made up on the spot, but send me in at the very least a name, a monster description/species, and a thing or two about them, minimum. The more detailed, the more I'll have to go on, but I will fully accept submissions that look like: "Beartice, a brown bear lookin monster. Scientist. Favorite food is mayonnaise." Please help me out here. If you wanna send in a fully formed OC, I make no promises about how they'll turn out in this fic, but dang, it'll be a cool thing, won't it? Speaking of, though: help me design the current Royal Scientist. The only thing I've got for them so far is they're kind of a dick, got gills, and tbh hate Hotland.

batman fic will still be updated and etc. i'm just having fun rn.