Two narrators are trying to tell a story but cannot agree on how the story goes.
Z symbol for Khalil and Stanley (Lets see how he responds to this little surprise)
There were times when Stanley dozed off while he hid from the Narrator. And when he awoke, he would always be met with the cramped space underneath the desk and a clear view of the Office.
This time was different.
Stanley was, rather suddenly, ripped from the clutches of sleep when he sneezed. Something was tickling his nose a second before, and when he groggily opened his eyes, he found the culprit red-handed.
Some strange hybrid between an animal and a human stood over him with curiosity, pale eyes watching him cautiously, but intently. Stanley tried to press himself further into the recesses of the desk, wary of the stranger that most definitely did not come from the Office.
This wasn’t the first time Khalil had found himself suddenly in unfamiliar territory due to his ever curious nature. But it certainly was the strangest place at least to him with few things that he recognized.
So when he found another person he was ecstatic to say the least though puzzled as to why they had hid themselves like that. So against his better judgment he tried to get their attention, giggling when the man sneezed.
He was surprised at the reaction, his tail puffing behind him to nearly twice its size at his actions. Churring softly he raised a hand in what he hoped wouldn’t be viewed in a dangerous manner and waved slightly. “H…hello?”
…Well, this stranger seemed nice enough.
Stanley looked them up and down, scrutinizing this odd guest before raising a hand to offer a hesitant wave of his own. Nothing more was said, but it was obvious from the man’s raised eyebrow that he had more than a few questions.
Then with that same hand, he reached over the edge of the desk and pulled something, something board like, down towards him. Along the way, however, the object made contact with the stranger’s head, and an audible gasp escaped Stanley’s lips as he immediately whipped out a marker from his pocket to scribble words onto the board. He cowered further into the desk when he finished, turning the board over and revealing his message.
[sorry sorry sorry sorry sorry sorry are you okay??]
hi
i was making a little compilation of the narrator from the stanley parable making silly noises, but then i realized there isn’t a lot of that so instead i made a compilation of him being a nerd
enjoy
Z symbol for Khalil and Stanley (Lets see how he responds to this little surprise)
There were times when Stanley dozed off while he hid from the Narrator. And when he awoke, he would always be met with the cramped space underneath the desk and a clear view of the Office.
This time was different.
Stanley was, rather suddenly, ripped from the clutches of sleep when he sneezed. Something was tickling his nose a second before, and when he groggily opened his eyes, he found the culprit red-handed.
Some strange hybrid between an animal and a human stood over him with curiosity, pale eyes watching him cautiously, but intently. Stanley tried to press himself further into the recesses of the desk, wary of the stranger that most definitely did not come from the Office.
Christmas/Winter Starters!
{ Might add more later. Enjoy for now! }
🎁 Our muses open presents together!
🎄 Our muses decorate a christmas tree together!
🏬 Our muses go christmas shopping!
🔪 Our muses choose and cut their own tree!
💃 Our muses go ice-skating!
🌁 Our muses play in the snow!
🍛 Our muses make a Christmas dinner together!
🍪 Our muses bake and decorate Christmas cookies!
👀 Our muses stay up waiting for santa!
🎅 One muse still believes in santa… how does the other handle it?
🔥 Our muses drink hotchocolate and cuddle next to the fireplace!
📺 Our muses watch Christmas films together!
🎨 Our muses make christmas crafts - snowflakes, snowmen and more!
🏠 Our muses decorate the outside of the house!
💰 Our muses go decortion shopping!
👪 Our muses go to the mall to sit on santas lap!
🎶 Our muses listen to christmas songs!
📥 Our muses sled down a hill!
⛺ Our muses make a gingerbread house!
🏂 Our muses go snowboarding!
🏡 Our muses assist at a homeless shelter on christmas!
👶 Our muses visit a childrens hospital and give gifts to kids!
🚙 Our muses drive/walk around to look at peoples xmas lights at night!
🎬 Our muses watch a christmas play together!
😱 Our muses get snowed into their house!
🍻 Our muses get drunk off of booze filled egg nog!
🐎 Our muses take a horse drawn sleigh ride!
👕 One muse forces the other to wear ugly, matching christmas sweaters!
🎼 Our muses go caroling!
🎊 muses attend a christmas party!
💏 Our muses meet under the mistletoe - Accidentally or on purpose is your choice!
Her lack of enthusiasm for her self-given purpose didn’t show in her tone; she continued her monologue without a missed beat. “… When every path you can walk has been created long in advance, death becomes meaningless, making life the same. Do you see now? Do you see that Stanley was already dead from the moment he hit ‘Start’?”
Then, she grew silent.
It had been a few minutes, and Stanley hadn’t descended down the stairs. She kept her eyes closed, her mind’s eye focused on the main hall of her museum. Once she had a chance to examine this Stanley in the proper light, it had confirmed her suspicions: this, in fact, was not her Stanley. It was a completely different one.
The third one she had met thus far.
After a few more minutes, she cleared her throat. “I imagine that isn’t the most comfortable place to sit,” the Administrator began with an amused chuckle. “The Museum is yours to explore at your leisure, Stanley. You don’t need to stay there if you don’t wish to.”
Stanley relished the few minutes of quiet solace after the Other Narrator’s line came to a close. Silence. Peaceful, gentle silence. It was rare to find these moments around his Narrator, who always seemed to have something to say about everything. He even tried to engage in small talk whenever Stanley was idle for too long, but those moments were also words restricted to the lines of a script (none of which he readily remembered, but he could certainly recognize a familiar line when it was spoken).
So one could imagine his surprise when he was being spoken to outside of the script.
At first it was confusion–a small, off-putting feeling that caused him to frown in thought as he searched his hazy memory banks for match. Then, after realizing that he had been invited through the Other Narrator’s own free will, he rose from his hard, cold seat (it really wasn’t the most comfortable place to sit) and hesitantly descended the smooth, white steps. Once he stepped out into the open floor of the museum, he gave the ceiling a timid wave.
☁ (literature-enthusiast)
AnonymousThe harsh lighting from the sun nearly obscured his form, leaving only the scarcest of shadows to indicate that his presence there. It wasn’t as if there were any settings to make himself more noticeable. Either that or he never bothered to look for one.
“This is certainly a wonderful view.” He remarked, looking up at the clouds that lazily trudged through the sky. He wondered if they were truly real or just simulated like everything else in and around the Office. “Do you really find pleasure in staring at large collections of water vapor all day? I don’t see the point in this activity at all.”
“Really?” The man turned his head, lime eyes wide with surprise.
“I’ve always found it charming.” He looked to the sky once more, and his expression softened. “They’re only collections of water vapor, and yet they look plush and soft…” he smiled thoughtfully, gesturing to the mass of clouds above them.
“Ah, I think I get it. Imagining tactile pleasure through visual stimulus? Simply fascinating.” He replied with every gram of sarcasm he could muster. Which goes to say that he didn’t produce much because sarcasm is measured in ounces, not grams you ninny. Even then, the amount of sarcasm ounces he could produce was none, so he ended up saying what he said in a rather bored drawl with no sarcasm at all.
He couldn’t help but wonder, however, how the feeling of ‘plush and soft’ pleased this corporeal Narrator. Did it offer him feelings of wistful nostalgia? Did it feel like some sort of paradise? Maybe soft objects mind-controlled their handlers to think they were pleasant. Someone could probably hide a compact mind control machine in there if they tried.
“Pardon me if this comes off as a, ehm, a stupid question, but how would you describe a ‘plush and soft’ feeling?”
Librarian 666
((please forgive me if this sounds bad ;>; i tried))
“Astrology is a very precise science. We know this.”
“Let me get this straight…you want me to come with you…”
—Douglas Adams, The Ultimate Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy: Mostly Harmless, pg. 666
——
“Allow me to start by saying that astrology is a very precise science. We know this, yes? Then I cannot help but note that what you’re asking of me is something of the opposite nature.”
The incredulous tone betrayed the fact that he, in fact, understood the request very clearly. His dialogue amounted to nothing more than a verbose version of an “are you kidding me”. He even accentuated that point further by concentrating himself into a humanoid silhouette and giving the Serious Look.
“Let me get this straight.” Said the Narrator, who began to walk toward the person as an apparition outlined by shadows. “You. Want me to come with you.” He stopped. And stood near to a foot away from the stranger’s face. A very short clearing of the throat could be heard from him, and he looked up at the other with a literally transparent expression.
“I by no means imply that I accept, but I’d like to know why you require my presence in the first place.”
