Galileo And The Jovian Satellites

i wanna angst it up with asgore oops

Send "Tick Tock" for a random thought without context that my character has during a day.

Ⓦ

Callisto was grinning, albeit a bit shakily.

“Thank you so much! It took me almost three weeks to come up with all that.” They took the journal back gratefully, hugging it to their chest. Clearly, it was the child’s most prized possession.

“I don’t meet many scientists either.” They laughed a bit. “On the Surface, there’s a lot of them, but most of them are of a very high status, so... They aren’t exactly people who would give a kid a second glance. Or anyone other than their colleagues, actually.” Callisto was still smiling, but their voice held a slight tinge of disappointment. They rocked back on their heels, looking down at their feet for a moment.

“I’d really like to hear about what actually makes echo flowers tick, though.” When they looked up again, they looked a bit more hopeful. Gaster was much friendlier than any of their heroes from the Surface had been--at least, the few Callisto had the opportunity to meet.

A pair of hands popped into existence, taking ahold of Callisto’s notebook with care. They were similar to the monster’s, only fur-less and with slender, tapering fingers that delicately turned the pages. His own paws were clasped close to his chest. Indifferent to this sudden appearance Gaster scanned over the contents with vivid interest.

“I see. Your theories are impressive - incorrect, but very thoughtful.” He settled down as he continued to read through, attention wholly enveloped by the child’s notes and entries. “You’re very intelligent, Callisto. It’s no wonder you’ve progressed so far through the Underground.”

Once he’d read through a considerable chunk of information Gaster offered their journal back. “It’s absolutely fascinating to read about another’s science! I don’t hear it as much as I’d like since there’s not too many scientists here. Well, none that I meet with often.”

By popular demand (one request), here is last night’s gif of Ganymede entering and exiting an eclipse, without the pause in the middle.  Photographed by Voyager 1, 26 Febuary 1979.  (It’s a pity that Voyager didn’t keep taking photographs for all of the eclipse entry.)

Callisto’s face lit up with a wide grin--a rare occurrence for the quiet child.

“Wow, I--it’s perfect!” They burst out, skittering forwards to hug Toriel tightly. Their socks slid a bit on the wooden floors, but they didn’t fall. In truth, Callisto hadn’t even remembered today was their birthday, and they were all the more touched that Toriel had.

“Vanilla’s my favorite. Thanks, Tori.” It’d been awhile since someone had done something so kind for them. It was not that their foster parents had been terrible... They just didn’t do kind things without reason. But they were good people. hey were good people.

Callisto wrapped their arms right around Toriel, although, being smaller than her prevented their arms from making it all the way around her middle.

Toriel snapped her paw. It didn’t make a proper sound, but it worked for the effect she wanted. The light overhead turned on, and all of her had work over the night was lit up. She picked up the burned-down cake candle beside the food and placed it on top, using the fire magic to light it.

‘Happy birthday, my child!’ the boss monster exclaimed, searching the child’s face. ‘I know it is not much, but it was as good as I could get while you were asleep. I hope you like vanilla?’ Toriel asked, the fire magic in her palm now extinguished. She gestured towards the cake, smiling.

From the kids that had come before Callisto, Toriel knew some of human customs. Like having children blow out candles on their birthday cakes; to be honest, it was a pretty nifty was to celebrate.

Jupiter’s moon, Callisto.

It occured to Callisto--perhaps a bit belatedly--that they really shouldn’t have gone on ahead without Gaster. He was much more confident, smart, composed--

“H-Hey, come on, just listen. Please,” They held their notebook out, open to their notes. “Look, it’s--I have a plan, sir--”

Asgore didn’t even look like he’d heard them. Callisto threw themself to the ground to attempt to avoid Asgore’s trident, though they did end up with a rather nasty gash on their bicep and a complimentary tear in the sleeve of their sweater. Their journal was dropped, loose pages scattering across the bed of flowers. They first grabbed at the wound, but all that did was get blood all over their hands.

Callisto still scrambled to gather up what they could, and stood again, eyes watery with tears. They took a shaky breath, sniffling a bit and readjusting their glasses. It was their turn to make a move, after all. Quivering, they flipped back to where they had furiously scribbled all of Gaster’s important points--why this was more efficient, why it was better, what good it’d do in the long run--and took another breath. A few stray tears slipped out, but Callisto dashed them away quickly.

Gaster would not be shaking in his boots.

Gaster would’ve convinced Asgore to discuss this over a steaming cup of tea by now.

I’m going to die. The thought was sudden; unwelcome. Callisto pushed it away.

“You s-see, if you would a-allow me to explain... Y-You don’t h-have to hurt anyone, sir.” Their voice cracked, trembling. They were terrified, and it was clear for everyone to see. Being so easily read was only making them more afraid, though. Would that make them lose their credibility?

“I can just g-go back home, and bring back my foster parents, and... And...”

I’m going to die.

The hesitation was all Asgore needed to make his move again, this time opening another deep wound on their calf. Callisto dropped to their knees, but kept the journal clutched tight to their chest.

“W-Wait,” They whimpered softly. “Please,”

Dark red was staining the buttercups underneath them. They were going to die.

The sudden sound of frantic footsteps turned their head, back towards the long hallway they’d come down to get here. In the tall archway--

“Gaster?” Journal dropping, Callisto dragged themself to their feet, turning their back to Asgore. They were so relieved. He was here, he was going to tell Asgore it was all okay, and Callisto could go home. They could fix this all.

“You... You came for m-me?”

Three metal points, coated with a viscous, red substance--was that their blood?--sprouted from their chest. Callisto’s eyes flickered from their friend briefly to look down. It didn’t look real. Confused, they looked back up to Gaster. They couldn’t read his expression. Asgore must’ve yanked back on the trident because now they were lying on their back with three gaping holes in their chest, struggling to breathe. Gasping for air, their hand started to look for their journal. It must’ve fallen nearby--

“Callisto,” Oh, no. No no no no.

"Oh... Oh my god,” There was a pressure on their chest. He must’ve been trying to stanch the bleeding. Callisto had a vague feeling of guilt; blood stains would be hard to get out of his white fur. At least it’d grow out.

“Sorry,” It came out garbled. It hurt. Everything hurt. Callisto was afraid.

There were dozens of assurances that it was okay, that it wasn’t their fault, but they started crying anyways. They should’ve listened.

“Am I dying?”

“No, no, you aren’t dying. We’ll fix you up, Little Moon.” Callisto let out a short sob. He was wrong. Weakly, they pushed his paws off their chest--the blood was just soaking through anyways--and gripped a furry paw tightly in their hand, trying to look him directly in the eyes for once. Their breath rattled in out out raggedly, and when they tried to speak again, all that came out was blood. They sucked in a breath; they sucked in blood. They couldn’t breathe, they couldn’t breathe. They struggled, free hand gripping at the bloody buttercups underneath them, as if by holding onto something solid, something real, they could stay. They had to stay.

They had to tell him--

Callisto’s eyes rolled back, tensed muscles gradually loosening.

Their blood-stained hand let go of Gaster’s.

A few minutes after the New Horizons space probe sped past Pluto, it turned and snapped this picture – a crescent of everyone’s favorite dwarf planet illuminated by the Sun. Just visible: the flat expanse of Pluto’s heart (”Sputnik Planum”) and the icy Norgay Montes mountain range. Pluto’s mysterious atmosphere shows up as layers upon layers of haze.

When time stands still.

BLACK VELVET NEBULA CAKE