#ney’s chatter (ask answers)

[braisedhoney]

Gaster but he says “oya oya”. Trust me on this.

is this it. is this what you wanted from me.

[luckynightdinosaur]

Predvember Day 1

Prompt: Mothership

Word count: 1k

Quick summary: Paisley and her partner arrive at the clan mothership.

Pairing: F x M

Tags: Anxiety, pre-relationship

Warnings: None

It's massive.

That's the only thing that Paisley can think as the mothership appears, black and sleek, blocking out the light of the stars around them. Filling her entire line of vision, it's overwhelmingly big, looming intimidatingly in front of the vessel that she's currently in. 

"Look!"

In her lap, Valerie squirms, pointing enthusiastically, chittering in excitement, straining to lean forward to get a better view of the behemoth before them. 

"I see it, baby," she replies, a smile pulling at her lips despite her nervousness.

"We go to the big ship?" her daughter chirps in question, turning to look at her with big yellow eyes. 

"Yes, we're going to the big ship," Paisley confirms. "We're going to live there from now on." 

"Because Nei-man said," Valerie asks, though it's not really a question this time, her daughter peering out of the viewing window again, as they draw closer to the mothership.

"That's right."

Ever since leaving her family's homestead on the planet of Lurbigea, she's felt as if she were in a fever dream. It doesn't seem real to her that she's actually in a spaceship, thousands of light years away from everyone she cares about (again).

She is though. However, this time she is here of her own volition (though it wasn't as if she'd had much of a choice, all things considered).

She knew what she was getting into. She'd agreed to go with Nei'hman-de to his clan, so that her family could live in peace. 

It wasn't fair, in her eyes, especially not to her daughter, who not only had made friends with her siblings' children, but was being taken from the only life she had ever known. 

Nei'hman-de had told her that this is what had to happen. Her daughter, who looked more like his kind than her own (because of what of what had happened that day, all those years ago), couldn't live on a human settlement, no matter how private it was. 

He had mentioned a plethora of people, none of who she knew, but assumed she would be meeting soon, to further discuss what would be happening to her and her daughter, the specifics of their new life among Nei'hman-de's people. 

Paisley wishes it could be different, but ultimately, she had to trust Nei'hman-de and believe that this is the best choice she could have made. 

She shoots a glance at the alien beside her, who is naturally unperturbed by the sight of the ship in front of them, tapping away at various buttons on the controls in front of him. 

Getting ready to dock, she assumes.

Paisley takes a deep breath, trying to calm her nerves. She knows that she doesn't have anything to worry about, that Nei'hman-de won't let anything happen to them, but she still worries. 

The yautja has given bits and pieces of information about his culture, so she knows some of what to expect, but she feels nowhere prepared enough to do this. 

She has no idea how Nei'hman-de's people will react to the sight of herself, nor to her daughter. Based on his reaction, it won't be pleasant.

She knows that she has to trust him, knows he'd never let harm come to either of them. It's hard, though, all of this having happened too fast for her to really process it properly. 

Her anxiety mounts as they draw closer to the mothership, manifesting in a bouncing leg, the movement drawing Nei'hman-de's attention. 

He tilts his head. His expression is hidden by his mask, but she can feel an air of exasperation coming from him- or perhaps her anxiety is making her imagine it. 

He doesn't say anything, letting out a low, unidentifiable noise before simply turning back to what he was doing before.

There's the chatter of a voice from somewhere around the controls, one Nei'hman-de answers in a gruff voice, before the ship shudders. 

Paisley tightens her grip on her daughter, her stomach dropping as the pressure in the cabin of the ship briefly changes. 

Valerie whines in discomfort, unused to the feelings and sounds. It's making her feel disoriented too, but she tries to reassure her child, wanting to show her it's alright. 

She runs a soothing hand over her head, quieting her down, even as the ship rumbles, shuddering into place.

It only lasts for a few moments, and everything is still again. 

Nei'hman-de continues to tap at the various controls, until finally he stands.

He stretches, and despite all her anxiety about finally boarding the mothership that belongs to his clan, she can't help but be a little distracted, still, as she watches his muscles bunch and ripple. 

She blushes as he laughs at her, not realizing she was staring so blatantly until he caught her. 

"Come," he tells her, indicating that she should follow, before turning to lead the way off the ship. 

She gets to her feet, one of Valerie's little clawed hands grabbing ahold of hers, before she complies, grateful that he's being mindful not to walk too quickly. 

Beside her, Valerie is practically vibrating with a mixture of excitement and anxiety, her little tusks clicking as she bounces alongside Paisley, her grip on her hand almost painful. 

She squeezes it reassuringly anyway, causing her daughter to look up, pressing against her side tightly as they finally come to a stop. 

"What's it called? The ship?" She asks Nei'hman-dr, as they finally reach the exit, curious if the ship his clan lives in has a name. 

She tries to ignore her fluttering heart as the ramp lowers, keeping her gaze trained on the arbitrator, who radiates calm, a familiar scent reaching her and causing her to relax almost unconsciously. 

"Luar-k Ze-rei," he replies, briefly tipping his head in her direction. "Means Moonfire." 

It's a beautiful name, Paisley reflects, her hold on her daughter's hand tightening as she steps out of the scout ship. 

Into their new home, to start a brand new life. 

For better or for worse.

[lunamagicablu]

"Esiste in noi un istinto a tornare, a raggiungere il posto che ricordiamo. E' la capacità di ritrovare, nell'oscurità o nella luce piena, la propria casa. Sappiamo come tornare a casa. Anche se molto tempo è passato, ritroviamo la via. Attraversiamo la notte e strani territori, tribù di stranieri, senza mappe e domandando ai bizzarri personaggi che incontriamo lungo il cammino: 'Qual è la via?' La risposta esatta a 'Dov'è casa?' è più complessa... ma in un certo senso è un posto interiore, un posto nel tempo piuttosto che nello spazio, dove la donna si sente integra. La casa è là dove un pensiero o una sensazione possono svilupparsi invece di essere interrotti o di esserci strappati perché altro richiede la nostra attenzione o il nostro tempo. E nei secoli le donne hanno trovato miriadi di modi per conquistarsela, per costruirsela, anche se doveri e fatiche erano senza fine. [...] Casa è un umore o un senso sostenuto che ci consente di esperire sensazioni non necessariamente assecondate nel mondo profano: meraviglia, visione, pace, libertà dalle preoccupazioni, libertà dalle richieste, libertà dal continuo ciarlare. [...] Molti sono i posti reali in cui andare per 'sentire' il ritorno a questa specie di casa. Il posto fisico, reale, non è la casa; è soltanto il veicolo che culla l'Io affinché si addormenti, così potremo percorrere da sole il resto del cammino. Tanti sono i veicoli attraverso o con i quali le donne raggiungono casa: musica, arte, bosco, spuma dell'oceano, levarsi del sole, solitudine. Ci portano a casa in un mondo interiore nutritivo che ha idee, ordine, mezzi di sostentamento tutti suoi. Clarissa Pinkòla Estès art by Jungsuk Lee ****************** "There is an instinct in us to return, to reach the place we remember. It is the ability to find our home again, in darkness or in full light. We know how to return home. Even if a lot of time has passed, we find the We cross the night and strange territories, tribes of foreigners, without maps and asking the bizarre characters we meet along the way: 'Which is the way?' The correct answer to 'Where is home?' it's more complex... but in a way it's an internal place, a place in time rather than space, where the woman feels whole. Home is where a thought or feeling can develop instead of being interrupted or torn away because something else requires our attention or our time. And over the centuries women have found myriad ways to conquer it, to build it, even if the duties and efforts were endless. [...] Home is a sustained mood or sense that allows us to experience sensations not necessarily indulged in the profane world: wonder, vision, peace, freedom from worries, freedom from requests, freedom from constant chatter. [...] There are many real places to go to 'feel' the return to this sort of home. The physical, real place is not the home; it is only the vehicle that lulls the ego to sleep, so we can walk the rest of the way by ourselves. There are many vehicles through or with which women reach home: music, art, forest, ocean foam, sunrise, solitude. They take us home to a nurturing inner world that has ideas, order, livelihoods of its own. Clarissa Pinkòla Estès art by Jungsuk Lee 

[kidblader]

“— heah, khed. looks like ya need this moah ‘n i do.” shrugs off his heavy coat, drapes it over the shivering kid’s shoulder. danny’ll be fine - he’s got a sweatshirt on, and a thermal beneath that. when it comes to boston wintahs, danny doesn’t play around. “the heck ahya doin’ out heah without a coat on, anyways? and why do those guys behind ya got real good donald n’ goofy costumes on? theah’ra cool disney pahty goin’ on?”

❝   ———   h—huh? ❞

Sora  blinks  up  at  the  voice,   and  there’s  so  much  to  take  in  all  at  once  that  he  doesn’t  know  where  to  start.   For  one  thing,   it’s  really  cold  here!   (   It  reminds  him  of  Arendelle,   or  snow  in  San  Fransokyo.   He  wishes  that  he  could  be  more  excited  about  being  in  another  big  city   —   but,   he’s  afraid  that  his  chattering  teeth  will  cleave  his  tongue  in  two  if  he  tries  to  speak  any  more!   )

For  another  thing,   this  guy  is  really   …   big!   Easily  a  foot  taller  than  himself,   and  ten  times  his  weight  and  muscle!   (   Sora  bets  that  he  could  give  all  three  of  them  a  piggyback  ride,   no  problem! He  wants  to  ask,   can’t  decide  if  it  would  be  Donald  or  Riku  materializing  into  this  world  from  sheer  willpower  alone  who  would  chastise  him  for  being  “rude”.   ) He  also  has  a  ring  in  his  nose  that  either  makes  him  look  scary  or  cool,   ( Sora’s  still  trying  to  figure  it  out.   “Scool”? That’s  already  a  word!   )   and  a  funny  accent  that  Sora  has  definitely  never  heard  before.

He  kind  of  sounds  like  he  has  a  cold.Sora  wonders  if  it’s  because  of  the  weather.

Here,   kid.   Looks  like  you  need  this  more  than  I  do.

Before  Sora  can  say  or  do  anything,   the  man  has  already  shed  his  coat,   drapes  it  over  Sora’s  shoulders,   and  it  swallows  him   ( like  the  Darkness,   like  a  mouth!   Maybe  his  mother  never  taught  him  not  to  take  things  from  strangers.   Maybe,   even  if  she  had,   Sora  wouldn’t  have  listened   —   because  why  should  help  ever  be  a  bad  thing?   )   He  sticks  his  arms  through  their  respective  holes,   clutches  the  fur-lined  hood  around  his  face  so  much  so  that  only  his bright  eyes  can  be  seen   —   and,   when  he  speaks  again,   his  voice  is  muffled.

❝   Th—Thanks!   but,   aren’t  you  cold,   too?   ❞

The  heck  are  you  doing  out  here  without  a  coat  on,   anyway?

❝ ‘dunno,   ❞   he  answers,   with  an  innocent  shrug  of  his  shoulders.   ❝   I,   er   ———   didn’t  think  I’d  be  out  here?   ❞

and,   why  do  those  guys  behind  you  got  real  good  Donald  and  Goofy  costumes  on?   There  a  cool  Disney  party  going  on?

Costumes?!

❝   Huh?   ❞  

Sora  is  so  taken  aback  by  the  question  that  he  doesn’t  even  register  Donald’s  outburst   —   and,   just  before  he  can  ask  this  man  how  he  knows  Donald  and  Goofy,   Goofy’s  hand  is  gripping  his  shoulder,   spinning  him  around.

Wait  a  sec,   you  guys!  I  think  the  King  said  somethin’  about  this  before!   This  must  be  one  o’  those  worlds  where  Donald  an’  me  are  cartoon  characters!Cartoon  characters?Yeah!   King  Mickey,   too!   an’  the  Queen,   an’  Daisy   —   all  of  us!   Master  Yen  Sid  made  us  here,   I  think!   That’s  what “Dis-Ney” means!  It’s “Yen  Sid”  backwards!That  doesn’t  make  any  sense!Donald!   Ya  gotta  be  quiet!   Cartoon  characters  ain’t  supposed  t’  talk  in  this  world!   If  this  guy  thinks  we’re  just  people  wearin’  costumes,   then  maybe  that’s  what  we  ought’a  go  with!Good  call,   Goof!   Okay!

Sora  spins  back  around  to  face  the  nice  stranger,   nods  an  enthusiastic  assent  that  definitely  isn’t  compensating  for  the  lie  that  he’s  about  to  tell.

❝   Uh-huh!   We,   uh   ———   “got  lost”.   My  name’s  Sora,   since  you  already  know  Donald  and  Goof.   Could  you   …   tell  us  where  we  are?   ❞

[that-one-companion-cube]

Viking’s Vendetta

A hooded figure walked through the snowy streets of Reykjavik, A scarf covered their face to guard them from the cold from being so far north. The imprints on the snow left from their boots were stained with blood and dirt, bloodstained hands clutching a dagger that reeked of metallic blood. The person in question was on their way to see someone, they required intel that only that person had.

“At it again, Narra…” the familiar gruff voice of Narra’s father echoed. “Pabbi… I don’t wanna go see it!” the young girl cried, earning a sigh from her father. “I know, the wound is still fresh, but I made a promise to her-"

The memory cut off once she arrived, opening the door to the small shop. “Halló? Ástrós?” Narra called out before hearing shuffling from the back room. “Sorry! Sorry, I’m in here,” Ástrós responded, hearing as Narra walked through the shop to see her cousin. “Is that hunter dead?” Ástrós asked, turning to Narra after stepping off the wooden stool she was using to place an item on a shelf. “I should hope so, I did stab him,” was the response given as the taller female took off the cloak and scarf, “We’ll need to clean these,” she commented. Lose strands of golden blonde hair stuck to her face, stained with sweat, blood and condensation. “Maybe you should sit down and relax, you know where the living room is,” her cousin spoke with a small smile. Narra nodded and walked through, “I’m getting changed first.”

Narra walked up to her room and turned to the mirror, yes, she had the usual humour, but she felt a shell of the person she once was, she never felt complete. Dull blue eyes, once so lively, stared back at her. She let out a sigh and walked to the bathroom, hoping to be able to take a bath first.

“Pabbi! Pabbi! Please no! Don’t lock me up!” a nine-year-old Narra cried, kicking and screaming as her father dragged her to the village dungeons. “You will stay locked up until you learn to behave! Your mother is so disappointed in you!” the man screamed back. “Mamma died years ago,” she spoke softly, whimpering as her father threw her into the cell and locked the door. “Yes, and you prevented me from saving her from that damned fire!” the man shouted before walking off.

Narra got out of the tub and quickly dried herself off before dressing herself in trousers and a loose-fitting linen shirt. She quickly slipped on her boots before walking down to see Ástrós. “Well look who finally decided to join me,” the blonde spoke with a smirk, putting down the book she was reading. “Was that book imported from England?” Narra asked, sitting down. Ástrós hummed in response before standing up. “Would you like a drink?” she asked, pulling out two goblets as she already knew the answer. Narra nodded, making her cousin smile. “I managed to lay my hands on some Italian red wine, I know how much you like that stuff,” Ástrós spoke with a giddy smile as she handed one of the goblets to Narra before sitting back down and taking a sip. “Anyway, I was wondering when you were planning on returning to Norway,” she inquired as she raised the goblet to her lips for another sip. “What’s it to you?” Narra joked with a small chuckle, “But no, all jokes aside, I will be returning on the occasion that my father is on his death bed, I mean, somebody’s gotta take over after the old man dies,” she said before clearing her throat. “Yes, provided that nobody finds out that you’re a bastard.” “I doubt that’d happen, I look like my mother.” “Still… might happen…” Ástrós pointed out, she was worried about her cousin. “They can’t legally take the throne away from me anyway, my father used my mother’s surname.” “Fair enough.” The two would continue to chatter until they bid each other goodnight.

“Is she still breathing?” someone asked, the voice unfamiliar. The young girl opened her eyes slowly, quickly closing them from the sunlight outside that had seeped in through the curtains. “Ow…” she whimpered quietly as she sat up, groaning softly in agony. “Nei, you need to rest…” the voice began to become clearer, and the girl recognised it as her aunt’s. Narra huffed and laid back down, her entire body felt stiff as it stung. “The fire… you were burnt. You’re okay, your father is trying to search for any other survivors before they begin the rebuild,” her aunt spoke softly. “Auntie Petra? H… how long have I been asleep for?” Narra asked, she was frightened out of her mind. “Two weeks, don’t worry, you’re fine…”

Narra woke up the next morning and walked out to check if they had received any mail. She took the envelopes that were placed on the windowsill and flipped through them quickly before noticing one with the stamp of the Norwegian royal family. The letter was addressed to her, so she opened it, silently praying that it was her father’s advisor saying that he was either deathly ill or severely wounded. She read the letter carefully, a smile slowly growing as she would read more of the text that had been written. Her father had been assassinated by one of his own government officials, meaning that she needed to get home ASAP. “Ástrós! I’m going to be queen!” she yelled out, causing the Icelander, who was still in bed and asleep, to scream and fall out of bed from shock, mainly at the sudden loudness. “Wait, what?” she yelled, running out to see a giddy Narra. “Do you need me to polish the saddle on your Pegasus?” Ástrós asked as she crossed her arms. “That would be preferred, boats take too long.” “Fair enough. Oh, and good to see you smiling again…”

“Perhaps we can come to an agreement.” “An agreement? Are you insane Harald? Wait, I get it, you don’t want to marry your daughter off to my sone when she comes of age… I should’ve known… you WILL regret this!” the mysterious man who had been speaking with Harald for the past hour had stormed out of the house. Harald noticed Narra sitting on the stairs, hugging her knees to her chest. “Nachie? What are you doing up, your mother’s asleep, you know how she gets when you stay up late.” He spoke softly as he picked up his daughter. “Pabbi? Who was that?” Narra asked, clinging to Harald tightly. “A friend, don’t worry, you’re staying here with us.”

Narra took a step onto Norwegian snow for the first time in over a decade, walking through the maze of people coming to attend the funeral ceremony of the late King Harald. Through the crowd, she noticed a familiar face before scowling. She watched the man leave to her father’s study.

“He wants control over Norway, I want to unify it.” Harald explained to his daughter after placing her in her bed gently and tucking her in. He gently reached over and tucked a strand out of Narra’s face, smiling softly at her. But their peaceful moment didn’t last long, as they heard the horrified cries and pleas of the village people.

Narra followed the man to the study, pulling out her dagger, hiding it up her sleeve. “Greetings,” she spoke calmly, knowing he didn’t recognise her now. “It’s a sad day, isn’t it? Such a powerful and brave man dying at the hands of some cruel monster. The same one that burnt Layden all those years ago.” The man nodded, trying not to look suspicious, but was failing.

“I killed him.” “Pabbi! You’re alive!” Narra spoke with a smile, running up to hug her father. Harald had assassinated the man who had burned his village and killed his wife, at least, who he though did that. It was actually one of his soldiers who had a disguise spell put on him so the actual perpetrator was never found.

“You disguised yourself to be one of my pabbi’s other friends so you could become his advisor, assuming that I had been married off and that you’d get the throne… such a pitiful fool…” Narra purred as she approached him. “Good to see you again, Klemen,” Narra’s voice dripped with venom as the man took a step back. Narra raised the blade and slashed his stomach. “That’s for burning the village,” another slash was done to his chest. “That’s for my father,” she grabbed him by the hair and pulled him close before slowly dragging the blade across his throat, making him gasp frantically, trying to breath. “And that is for my mother…”

“Never blindly trust anyone.” -Ashton V.T., the author

Written by Ashton V.T.

A/N: Hallo! Yes, this story is confusing, that’s because you’re supposed to read the paragraphs in italics to learn of Narra’s past, as the regular text is her preparing for taking revenge without her father punishing her for her actions. There is minimal use of magic, and way less violence than the original version of this. Do I care that it’s badly written? No. Would I have sent the original? If I was allowed to, but I legit had my dad say it was too gritty.

[braisedhoney]

Sans Undertale real?????

*thanks in advance, pal.

[braisedhoney]

no talk, old man angy

last doodle of the first batch, probably will do some of the rest later ^^;

[braisedhoney]

May I request Hunter's moon for my favorite hunter, Valerie :D

oh absolutely!! this palette fits her so well. i went with the original suit that vlad gave her. i’m kind of a sucker for the original simple design, it’s a good one. i should do a second one with the other suit (and a more dynamic pose lol)

(original color palette meme here!)

[braisedhoney]

I want to give your narrator a hug and some treats so bad, he seems like he needs them

Always seems so stressed, I hope he gets enough sleep. You're doing great, we're proud of him so much- he needs to know that he doesn't need to overwork himself to please us, because he's already made us so happy!

(oh c’mon narry, your relaxed act isn’t fooling anyone.)

[braisedhoney]

I totally thought Gaster was gonna give the crewmate a little forehead kiss in your last post (which I'd love)

awww okay, just for you. that’s a nice compromise. (other post here.) (this is the best lil crewmate i’ve ever drawn by the way omg)

[braisedhoney]

For some reason I could imagine narry using the arrows to look like giant fingers and flip Stanley off

Sorry if that’s a poor doodle rq

he’s pettier than he would ever admit (but it’s pretty obvious tbh)

[braisedhoney]

i wish i could submit images anonymously ajaja

stop being so much funnier than me op it's turning me to dust—

the only flaw with this image is that it covers up the ground that took me so goddamn long to render lmaooo

i should post this edit on twitter or smth it's incredible

[braisedhoney]

Captain, dear phantom captain, won’t you drop your crew a chandelier?

well how could i possibly refuse when you ask so kindly?

[braisedhoney]

Please please i wanna see your sona holding narry as a grumpy cat

as you wish, anon! o7

[braisedhoney]

I love ur Narrator so much <3

*grabs the arrows on him* we gonna go to the blender my guy

(i'm putting that little screen thing back on my sona's cuff... thing, btw. i think it's cute to read asks off it ahdkfksks)

[braisedhoney]

Booty McTooty

don’t look at me, pal, we don’t know either.