My Mind's Parable

Stanley slept peacefully, and his Narrator did too. With the two of them being in such close proximity, the two of them shared another dream. Narrator hadn't needed to use any effort to wiggle his way into Stanley's brain this time.

Stanley is dreaming about what may happen if the mannequin really is a virus. Narrator can feel every emotion Stanley feels. He's scared, he's angry, he's sad. Narrator doesn't want his brain to derail and cause the two of them to have a nightmare, so Narrator tries his best to show Stanley what his voice looks like. He still sits inside the mannequin model, and the two of them sit somewhere outside the parable. Inside that void, Narrator speaks about anything and everything, he isn't listening to the words coming out of his mouth and he is sure Stanley isn't listening to them either. Each word, each sentence creates a picture of something. The portraits glow yellow and shift too quickly to decipher what it wants to say. Stanley's best way of describing it is the zending if it was entirely in yellow. 

They could've done anything, but they didn't. They sat there and watched what Narrator could speak into existence for who knows how long. And they slept for over twelve hours. Even if Stanley got bored, he would not have left his Narrator's side even while not knowing this was his Narrator. The voice alone made Stanley want to stay by it, and he wanted to make up for all the time they lost during the skip button ending. 

Pairs of two were scattered all over the parable. Stanley and his Narrator, Mariella and her Curator. With our two main protagonists sleeping peacefully in eachothers arms, we can only stretch out their sleeping time so far. 

Curator was only slightly bored of trying to gently push the two of them to realize their other half likes them back. Is Narrator only getting his information through Curator? Is he really relying on her that hard? 

“Mariella?”

“Yes Curie?”

“Stanley and Narrator are still struggling with defining their own emotions and understanding the emotions of each other. I’m tempted to start leaving romantic gestures to trick them into confessing.”

“I would tell you not to do that, but it's kind of a good idea? Don’t make them too bold, and make sure they really fit with what the other might give to them!” 

“Of course.” 

Curator planned on discussing where, what, and when she would plant the faux romancers, but for now, her and her girlfriend would take a trip to a nearby lake.

“Mariella!”

“What!? I thought we weren’t running through the parable today!” Mariella yelled from the ultra deluxe corridor. She probably went off to caress her bucket. Thank god Curator super glued it to its pedestal. 

“We aren’t dear! I'm bringing you somewhere!” With that single sentence, Mariella was already at Curator's side, waiting to be led to their destination.

“Can we go back to those stores we saw earlier? When we went to that fancy restaurant?”

“I’m not sure we can, people were already suspicious when we popped in out of nowhere with a fair amount of money,” Curator chuckled to herself, “Maybe we can find another better shop, where we are not being picked apart by the people around us.”

“Yeah, it's probably best not to do that. We could get arrested! Then we would never be able to leave the parable again!” Mariella pretended to cry. 

“Yes, cry about all the possibilities I would never let happen. Now come! We can't be dilly dallying too long, the other two may wake up!”

“Do we have to be here when they wake up?” Mariella didn't really understand why they had to be in their side of the parable while the two men were awake, can’t they handle themselves?

“Yes dear, we do. Even if you don't believe you have good dating advice, or any advice in general, because we've been in a relationship for a few years now, the two of them are certainly going to come looking for us and our information.”

“When you say it like that, I guess it makes more sense. Don’t they both have access to the internet now?”

“They do, but you’re aware Narrator comes to me for practically everything even though he's had internet access since the internet became a thing, correct?” 

“God, you guys are so old.”

“Be nice! I'm taking you on a date and you call me old!?”

“Yes! Now let's go before they wake up!”

“You are a nuisance.” 

Curator grabs Mariella's hand, and waves her free one over the door frame with nothing labeled above it. The door slams shut, and the border turns a dark blue. Curator opens it, and it looks like a rainy day outside. There's a porch beneath them, with a roof above. Two umbrellas are hung behind the wooden rocking chair on their porch.

“Which umbrella would you like to take today?”

“The blue one!” Mariella made sure every time she was allowed to pick the umbrella first, she would pick the one in correlation to her girlfriend.

“Like always, I guess I'll just have to take the green and orange one.”

Curator shuts the door behind them, they both open their umbrellas, and they walk down the rainy sidewalk.

“Where are we going today?” Mariella, even with the dark clouds above their heads, still seems to glow. Maybe she's beaming with such excitement her body had to force it out of her through means of light.

“It's a surprise.”

“Can I guess?”

“Can I stop you?”

“No!” 

The two of them interlinked their hands again, and turned the corner.

“We were just at the restaurant, so we can’t be going there..”

“You said we couldn't go to the store because we could get murdered or whatever..”

“I said we can’t go because it would look suspicious since we don’t live here.”

“Yeah, that's what I said. Anyway-”

“Come, cross the street.”

“Thanks for interrupting me. I doubt you want to go and get food of any kind, so that marks off ice cream dates and such..”

Although Curator is nervous about Mariella figuring out where she's taking her, the other things she's stating they aren't going to do now sound like pretty good date ideas for the future. An ice cream date doesn't sound too bad, but Curator should look into what a ‘brain freeze’ is. It sounds a little dangerous for a human, since their brains are their sentience and all that.

Mariella and Curator continued down the sidewalk, on that path a sign read ‘state pond’ but Mariella was too busy guessing where they could be going to realize her answer had just passed her by. 

“I can't guess! Can you give me a clue?”

“Your clue passed us eight minutes ago dear.” 

“What?! That's unfair! I wasn't paying attention..”

“I'm aware! We're almost there, you can hold out for a few more minutes, yes?”

“Yes I can…”

Curator led her girlfriend to a nearby bench and pointed her view over to the lake only a few feet ahead of them.

“If it wasn't a rainy day it would have looked a lot nicer. I thought there was only going to be slight rain with the sun still peeking out. If the sun was out, there would've been a rainbow.” 

“I know how rainbows work, Curie, I went through elementary school.” 

“Yes I know. Is it still nice? Do I have to take you out on a shopping trip to make up for my terrible mistake?” 

“No, I like it! But I wouldn't mind taking you up on that shopping spree..”

“I said on a shopping trip, I don't want to get caught in this town too.” 

After they laughed a little, Curator took some bread out of her infinitely stuffed purse to feed the ducks with. Then, the two of them plotted how they would set Stanley and Narrator up, on a date, or with just a simple romantic gesture. 

At the end of their little outing, the two of them shared a quick kiss, and walked back to the parable in a comforting silence, only broken by the sound of the rain picking up.

(oh wowie more art for me to draw)

Narrator woke up about 20 minutes before Stanley. Maybe it was because he's never needed to sleep before and was just getting used to it, or maybe it was because of the sore pain in his lower back. For the first few minutes after his waking, he had no idea what was going on. He did not remember why he was in the bucket apartment ending, he could not figure out what that feeling was near his lower back, and he was entirely confused as to why he felt so warm. 

But slowly, things came back to him. Like the warmth he felt was Stanley cradling his unfinished model, and what he feels near his lower back is… Stanley's appendage inside of him. 

As quickly as Narrator metaphorically could, he pulled himself from the unfinished model. 

What on earth happened yesterday!? His relationship with Stanley is nowhere near a status to be doing those kinds of things with him! This isn't… he can't be doing this with Stanley. If Narrator wants a proper, stable relationship, he needs to get his emotions in check. 

A note was stuck to one of the computers near Stanley's office. The note read, “Narrator, Mariella and I will be going out. If you need something, remember to write it down.”

Remember to write it down!? Who does she think he is? Narrator isn't some.. Incompetent child! Narrator decides he can overcome his issues without Curator’s help. If he runs into an issue, he'll just research it online and fix it himself. 

What should he do with the model? Obviously that isn't something he can research, humans don't run into this issue very often he's sure. Stanley looks.. Peaceful. He looks content with his arms cradling the being. Narrator decides to just leave the model how it is. 

With Narrator back inhabiting the parable, he decided to fully flesh out the UI he uses inside the model. A while ago, Narrator had quickly made a visible version of what he uses to control the parable. There were different sections to spawn in maps and different items, the other half of that section was dedicated to un-rendering different parts of the map for performance stats, and deleting items. Two reset buttons, one for a soft reset and one for a hard reset, access to the files, a save button for the parable, and other things if he could think of them. 

Narrator had made a mock up and that was about it for the UI. So, he got to working. Narrator got back into coding to make sure everything would work right, and after all of that, made sure to have it look nice and intertwined with the parable. He made some extra strings of code to make sure Stanley couldn’t mess with the things in the UI, and left it at that. 

Narrator sped through making the code so he could get to what he actually wanted to work on, which was coloring the model. Narrator pulled the model into the program he used, and started to sift through some of the preset colors he could pick from. 

None of them truly captured his ‘spark’. None of the colors would inflict emotion into Stanley. They were so.. Bland. Much like Stanley himself. A blinding shade of red, orange, yellow, the whole rainbow plus magenta and cyan actually. A skin tone Narrator is sure wouldn't fit him, along with black and white. Dear lord, Narrator has to make the colors himself. He can't just take the colors of the parable, that would be atrocious! He might even blend in with some of the areas if he isn't too careful with the colors he picks. 

Those colors he saw in Stanley's dream were.. Something he isn't able to put into words. He's been to earth before, but he never saw the beauty in it like he saw with Stanley. He roamed the planet for so many years he's sure they add up to a higher number than however long the human race has existed. Narrator needs those colors. He complained about how there were too many colors to pick from, but where else would he get some good looking colors?

Reluctantly, Narrator dips into Stanley's mind once again. It looks like a swirl of nothing. Shades of blue, purple, hints of reds and oranges are scattered all around. There are… speckles of yellows, light pinks and white. Narrator knows where he is, but he doesn't want to believe it. Narrator looks around himself and sees exactly what he wished he wouldn't see. He's a pile of stardust, limited to absolutely nothing. He's a simple string of yellow light floating into whatever shape whenever he pleases. 

Stanley is back inside that office room. Narrator runs over to Stanley, but he's slow. No gravity is something he isn't used to anymore, and being such a simple physical being is extremely hard to navigate after being so physical for the past.. Many millennias. He isn't exactly counting anymore, especially after that ‘hibernation’ he experienced.

Stanley must not understand what he's seeing, or he hasn't realized this is his Narrator. Again, Stanley was staring out into the open space outside of this faux-parable. Stanley did notice the pieces of a star approaching him, and moved slightly to the left to avoid it hitting him. Due to the fact Stanley moved less than a foot out of its way, his movement didn't really hinder any lights hitting him, thankfully, Narrator’s form isn't painful to touch. At least not in the dream. 

Narrator thought the best thing he could do would be to just wait and sit at the ‘entrance’ of the room. If Stanley understood context clues, he would understand Narrator was trying to block him from leaving the area. Stanly looked like he had been debating leaving the room. Almost as if he had been.. Stuck here for some time. Stanley tried to pet the enlarged version of Narrator, but it didn't exactly work. Stanley had essentially tried to pet the open space between the stardust mapping out where Narrators conscious laid. 

Eventually, Stanley gave up trying to pet him. During that time, Narrator let his focus shift onto picking colors again. There was a mural on the ceiling of the space just outside the room. It wasn't exactly helpful, so Narrator thought hard on the dreams he shared with Stanley. The beach. He looked up and saw that wonderful sunset once again.

It compelled him to reach for it, to take it, and he did. His memory felt.. Clearer after he had taken the mural. It was still there on the ceiling, but much more muted. He felt a little guilty for letting himself take it, he isn't sure if this will affect Stanley too badly.

Stanley.

Narrator had taken his eyes off of Stanley. Impossibly fast, Narrator turned around to an empty room. Stanley was gone. He was outside in the space all around him. 

Stanley did not understand what this dream was or why he was having it again. Last time, he stayed inside the office building. This time, he wanted to try and leave the building. This.. yellow glob of light was messing with him. It ran on all four legs, so naturally he tried to pet it. It didn't work, so eventually he gave up. The amalgamation of lights took its eyes off of Stanley to inspect the mural on the ceiling. For a few seconds, Stanley debated staying inside the building once again, since the mural had changed. But when Stanley saw the lights practically suck the life out of the color inside the mural, Stanley decided it was time to go.

Stanley lept from the floor, and expected to fall. He expected it to be some sort of falling nightmare, but it was much worse. He felt as if his entire body was being ripped apart, by every organ, every muscle, every single blood cell in his body was being torn into little bits and formed into something new. 

As suddenly as Stanley had jumped from the platform, he had turned into whatever that being of light was. Stanley watched as his flesh rapidly decayed off of his bones. His blood turned black and congealed so quickly you wouldn't have realized he was ever once human. The rotten pieces of him condensed into extremely small pieces of himself. So small, they glowed. The small lights were cyan, Stanley's favorite color. Just like the other beings Stanley can see floating around, he has turned into one of them too. 

Stanley notices something about all of the light emanating beings. The yellow one is in the shape of some kind of lion, the dark blue one is in the shape of a deer, the purple one is in the shape of some kind of house cat, while the last two were too far off in the distance for Stanley to make out what colors and animals they were. 

Stanley realized that this ‘dream’ he was having was very.. Realistic? When he was riding his Narrator out in the void, he looked similar to how that yellow lion does here. 

He was very aware that his body was different. So, he ran to the side of the building in search of a window. That window must've been shined recently, since Stanley could see every little new thing about his body. No longer was he inhabiting a human body, instead, the lights making up his new form depicted a Bernese mountain dog. 

Really? His Narrator gets some majestic high power wild animal and Stanley gets a dog? He couldn't have gotten a wolf? He had to be a domesticated animal? Whatever, Stanley can dig into the real meaning of that later on. For now, Stanley decides he wants to get some real rest, and tries to forget about the dream he's having. Once he forgets, he won't be dreaming about that anymore. 

Narrator was not as calm about this as Stanley was. Not only was he starting to panic, some older memories started to resurface.

“Narrator!” ****** playfully called.

“What ******?” Narrator called out to his protagonist.

“Aren't you coming?” ****** inquired. If Narrator didnt up his pace, they would never make it!

“Of course I'm coming! I have to attach our bags properly, maybe if you helped we would get there faster!” he shot back. 

“I'll race you!” ****** sang out.

“You-! That rascal..” Narrator muttered to himself. 

Quickly, Narrator secured their bags with a belt around his waist, and chased after ******. While Narrator may be a cross between a tiger and a lion, dubbed ‘liger’ by his partner, a horrible cross name if you ask Narrator, his protagonist was a cheetah. Their speed and agility compared to Narrator's larger form was extremely unhelpful if Narrator was going to catch up to him, especially with the added weight of their bags. 

****** ran off expecting Narrator to immediately start chasing after him, but he didnt hear the sound of loud steps behind him, so he whipped around to see Narrator wasn't there.

“Boo!”

****** screamed after hearing his Narrator so close to his ear. Almost instinctively, ****** ran off in the direction of the parable.

“******, I’m sorry! Come back or we won't be able to visit that flower garden!” 

But ****** had other plans. He ran off in search of some way to get back at his Narrator or some other way to leave the parable.

Narrator did not like what he was remembering. So instead of archiving it or writing it down, he let it settle in his mind and eventually slip through the cracks once again. Stanley walking out into the space was something he could feel, and even now without being inside Stanley's head, he can feel more than just Stanley's thoughts. It's horrifying, and oh so familiar. 

Narrator has… he has the colors now. That's all he went in there for, and that's all he’s going to address and remember. Many shades of yellows, blues, oranges, even some purples and pinks were gathered. The sand was good enough to use for his skin tone, the lighter yellows and blues could be used as highlights for whatever. Some of the forest's colors were taken too, such as the browns of the trees and the greens of the leaves. Narrator would use yellows and greens for his eyes, and the shades of browns, oranges, and pinks for his clothing. He would use one of the blues that teetered on being a shade of gray as his hair color. 

And so, Narrator was left with his work and a memory he wished he could take out of his brain and forget forever. Stanley was left endlessly floating in the limbo that is sleeping, while Curator and Mariella make it back to the parable. 

“Curie?”

“Yes, dear?”

“Did- um. It feels off in here.”

“Do you believe I did something to the place while I was away?”

“Do you really not feel it? It’s- I don't- I can't explain what it is.”

“Something is wrong. I understand what you mean now.”

“Do you know what it is?”

“Mariella, when I'm outside of this body can you still feel my presence?”

“Oh lord, I'm not sure. You haven't been out of that body in ages, I don't think I can remember that far back.” 

“Let's test.”

“Right now? What are you trying to get at?”

“Let's just try. I'll explain it after.”

“Alright, whatever you say.”

Curator went into the settings of the body and released herself from it. Instead of grabbing onto her half of the parable, or splitting it herself fifty percent over the parable and fifty percent for whatever she wants, she let her consciousness simply float near Mariella. 

“Are you out of your body?”

“Positive.”

“Oh my god. How did I ever deal with this? I feel like you're everywhere.”

“This is different. I'm not sure how to explain it to you, but when i'm outside of my body i can inhabit whatever i want. I'm testing to see if you can detect me when I'm not inhabiting the whole of our parable.”

“So what are you implying?”

Curator formed herself back into her human model and stretched slightly as if she had been sleeping peacefully, or doing yoga just a few minutes before.

“I'm implying that something of a similar nature is floating around in or near one of the two halves of our parable.”

“Isn't that TimeKeeper? You told me he likes to lurk in the void outs-”

“No. This.. I-. Dear. I want you to know that myself, Narrator, and presumably TimeKeeper can tell who is who just based on the idea of who we are sensing. You are aware some animals can see a smell, correct?”

“Yes I know.”

“Imagine it like that. My color is a dark blue, TimeKeepers is a bright Purple, and Narrators is yellow. You do not have a color, because you are not like us. This color I feel its.. Very bright. I think it's some shade of blue?”

“Maybe you should close your eyes?”

“What on earth would closing my eyes do to help me figure out what color this being is?”

“I don't know, maybe instead of seeing everything around you and having to process it in your brain, you could just look at the inside of your eyelids and focus better?”

“Don't ever call closing my eyes ‘looking at the inside of my eyelids' ever again. Besides that, I think I might do what you said. The way you explained it made it easier to understand what you meant.”

So Curator closed her eyes, and found out that TimeKeeper wasn't eavesdropping on their conversation like usual, he was pressed up against the wall of Narrator's half of the parable. He looked to be somewhere in a separate map, since the main parable looked unloaded. They looked almost like they were debating on if they should walk into the parable or not. 

Narrator’s yellow glow came off of his parable like usual. But.. another color sparked off of something from the inside? The apartment ending in Narrator's half of the parable seemed to be giving off some sort of cyan version of Narrator's usual yellow glow. What on earth could that be?

Curator quickly took her hands off of her eyes. Mariella obviously took notice and started to question what may have shaken her up so badly.

“Curie? What did you see?”

“I.. I saw- I saw cyan. Lots of little sparks of cyan shooting out of Narrator's half of the parable.”

“But his color is yellow, right?”

“Yes! His color is yellow! Mariella, do you understand what this is!?” Curator was screaming at this point, and tears started to well up in her eyes.

“Curator! Please, calm down!” Mariella brought herself closer to her girlfriend and wrapped her arms around her.

“No, no! Mariella! You don't understand how bad this is! Humans aren't supposed to become like us! They could go insane!” Before Curator could produce any more words, her body started to cry and shake to the point she couldn't get any more words out. 

Mariella understood why Curator was so shaken up by this. Not exactly, but she understood enough. 

“I don't understand how bad this could be. But I know that if you're going to do anything about it you need to calm down.”

“Yes- I.. You're right. Give me a moment.”

Curator buried her face in her girlfriend's chest and let herself cry out all of the tears she held back. Once she finally felt like speaking again, she continued properly telling Mariella what she saw and how bad it truly is.

“When I closed my eyes, I saw Narrator’s sparks coming off of the parable. Completely normal and his usual shade of yellow. Maybe it was a little more blue than usual, I assume he's sad over something. But in some other map not connected to the parable, an area where Narrator would have to teleport Stanley to, there were blue sparks coming from inside it.”

Curator took a shaky breath, and continued.

“If you were able to see my color, you would see it flaking off of my body, not my half of the parable. I assume there's a body inside that room where the cyan flakes are coming off of.”

“But whose color is that?”

“I don't- Mariella, I need to be honest with you. There are no other creatures like me and Narrator out there. Other beings like ‘us’ are.. Infected. We did something to them which then caused them to turn into some sort of amalgamation of what they once were and what they are now. When I walk into the parable, I can still be in my animal form. You've seen it, correct?”

“I have.”

“If I were to cause you to become like me, god forbid, you wouldn't be able to do that. You would only be in that form in the void outside the parable, or where we were created.”

“What?”

“Where Narrator and I were born? I'm not quite sure you could use the animal form out there, seeing as there isn't any oxygen, but I'm mighty sure you would be able to.” 

“Curie, not to burst your bubble, but I don't know where you were born. I just assumed you.. Came into existence I guess?” 

“You're about right with that presumption. Two stars were orbiting each other. Eventually, they crashed into one another and created a supernova. From all of those star particles, Narrator and I were born.”

“That's kind of.. Beautiful. But you said there were no other beings like you, how do you know that?”

“I don't. I assume there's a very low chance of any other beings like us being born in the exact same way. Even if there were others like us, they don't know of our existence and we don’t know of theirs, so it's almost as if they were never there in the first place.” 

“That's depressing. Why don't you just leave that body and go up to whatevers giving off the cyan particles?”

“Because I know what those are, Mariella. I know who's giving off that color. I just don't want to believe it.”

“... Curator,” Mariella brings her hand up to her partner's face and cups it gently. “I think I know whose color it is too. It'll be ok.” Mariella rests her forehead on her lovers. Their height difference isn't very nice in this moment, but the two of them fail to notice while in the comfort of each other.

The two of them stay in eachothers arms. Neither of them want to leave the tight hold of the other, and they both silently decide they won’t for a while.

Stanley shot awake from his bed. He felt extremely cold, but his body was overly sticky with sweat. He couldn't remember anything about his dream. Yellows, blues and purples all mixed together in his mind to paint the picture of nothing. 

Narrator watched as Stanley surveyed his surroundings.

Stanley, embarrassingly remembered what he had done with the living mannequin the night before, and pulled himself out of it. After, he just sat in his bed, trying his absolute hardest to remember what he had thought of during his sleep. 

[ Narrator? ]

“Uhm- yes? Stanley?”

[ Why do you sound so nervous? I'm just asking you to reset me? ]

“I- I'm not- I'm just a little shaken up! That's all! I'll have you reset in a moment!”

But before Stanley could question him further, Narrator had softly reset the parable.

[ What's up with you? ] 

“Uhm! You know, just- I've been working for quite some time! It's been rather quiet!” 

[ Sure.. ] 

Stanley didn't exactly believe what his Narrator was telling him, but he sounded so nervous. Maybe if he left it alone it would just go away.

Narrator wished he never delved into Stanley's mind. Why did he do that in the first place? Oh dear, it was because he wanted colors for his model. This model is the sole cause of all their issues. 

Maybe Narrator should just get rid of it? No, no. That would be far too much of a waste as he's already spent multiple days working on it. He's never spent that much time on anything he's ever made!

What's the harm in continuing to create it now? Stanleys already infected, Narrator’s sure whatever happened to his previous protagonist will happen to Stanley now, so once he forgets all about Stanley, he'll try again with someone new and use this model for them. 

Stanley knows he just woke up from sleeping, but he feels extraordinarily more tired than usual. Which holds feeling tired at any scale, since Stanley isn't supposed to be able to sleep. Either way, waking up from 15 hours of sleep shouldn’t result in feeling more tired. 

Stanley tried virtually everything in his power to make this drowsiness go away. He drank coffee, once black and once the way he likes it, neither worked. He blasted every kind of music he could think of in his ears, all that did was make him go semi-deaf. It would fix next reset. He tried to organize everything on his desk, but the overwhelming need to sleep overpowered his brain's task of organization, and he fell asleep. 

This time, his sleep was different. If you could even call it ‘sleeping’. Almost instantly after Stanley had fallen asleep, it was as if his consciousness had left from his body. In that moment, the ‘dream’ he had experienced last night came back to him. 

Once again, the familiar cyan particles danced around his body. Only this time, his body seemed to be more tangible. He can see his sleeping body, laying in his uncomfortable office chair. 

It's odd knowing you're in a completely different body staring at one you've been in your whole life. Stanley seemed to not care that much. There were weirder and worse things that happen in the parable such as, dying over and over again yet resetting back to a completely perfect body, being able to leave his body with no repercussions, living in a pocket dimension that defies time, and a handful of other, less weird things. 

What to do.. Stanley could just run around the parable like any other dog would do. It seemed enticing, but Stanley knew one sound too loud would have his Narrator’s attention on him. Maybe this will make him less nervous? Stanley could just lie and tell his Narrator he took the ‘dog mode’ to the extreme.

So with little care, Stanley ran around the parable as a fairly sized dog. Through every ending he could run back through. None of the doors closed behind him, but Stanley knew his Narrator was inhabiting the parable. He's sure the doors weren’t closing because it didn't recognize him in the form of the dog. 

Oh, gentle Stanley. Find the light and let it guide you. Please, do not follow the submissive animal of whom lurks in the dark, for it is not worthy of your time. The once demanding voice you hear now pleads for your safety. Determine if you believe his words or not. 

Narrator watched Stanley leave his body. He watched the amalgamation of stars form into an animal, and reform skin, flesh, and fur around it. However, he did not say a single word. The entire situation playing out in front of him felt extremely familiar, yet no matter how hard he tried he couldn't grasp what he was remembering. He didn’t want to. 

In the corner of Stanley's newly formed eye, he saw a table shift. Since he left the mannequin in the apartment and the parable most certainly shouldn't be haunted, he went over to the desk to check why it moved. 

“Stanley?”

Stanley stopped prodding and sniffing around the desk and looked up at the ceiling.

“Oh, good. I got your attention. I would like to let you know the ‘surprise’ I've been taunting you with may be done in a day or two.” 

Oh, wow! Usually Stanley wouldn't feel this excited about something new! But he does, because he has the brain of a dog right now. Instead of thanking his Narrator through sign language or his thoughts, he runs around the room even more energetically. 

Narrator chuckles into the microphone, “Oh Stanley.. Don't run too fast, you'll hurt yourself!” 

But Stanley didn't pay attention to what his Narrator warned him of. He continued to run, he ran through corridors and hallways, rooms and even bigger rooms, all throughout the parable he recognizes, and all throughout the hallways completely undiscovered. 

After a while, Stanley realizes he's tired of running. So he slowed to a light jog, he plans on turning to the right, but it seems there's no door there. He realizes he has no idea where he is, or how far away from his body he may be. 

So Stanley walks. He walks back through the light blue hallway, he enters some forest-y green ones, he walks past sandy colored walls, but everything seems to be leading him farther away from the parable if not in some sort of limbo loop. 

He doesn't know what to do! He's been walking for what feels like hours, all he wants to do is get back in his body and rest. Can he.. Can he sleep anymore? He tried sleeping earlier, or avoiding sleeping again, and it turned him into a dog! What if he can't sleep anymore!

No. he needs to stop thinking about sleeping, all its making him feel is even more tired, and if he's tired, he won't be able to find his Narrator. 

What if he.. No, that couldnt work, right? Well, there's no harm in trying. Besides possibly bruising his face on the wall. Narrator was able to walk through walls when he was in that animal form, so he should be able to, right? Yeah! Stanley thinks so. 

Stanley backs up as far as he could, trying to get the perfect running start to get through the wall, but his logic is flawed, and he walks right through the wall behind him. How anticlimactic. 

He walks around the part of the parable he was in and sees that it looks as if it's a bunch of repeating corridors of the same colors. Over and over again, those hallways repeat, all connected. At least now he can see inside every room, so he should be able to find an area he recognizes and get back in the parable. 

TimeKeeper wants a word with Stanley. Who does he think he is replacing them like that? Unfortunately, Narrator is more connected to TimeKeeper than he remembers. When Narrator regained a memory, so did TimeKeeper. He remembers what he had with Narrator. The place they went to, oh that beautiful garden.

“********?”

“Yes, dear?”

“I can't believe you would scare me like that! Now, for what I actually wanted to tell you.”

“Come on Narrator, spit it out!”

“I won't be spitting anything! Now seriously, listen!”

“I'm all ears.”

“You see this garden, yes? Well, I mean- of course you do, it's everywhere. Continuing, I spent months making sure every flower looked just perfect for this moment. I planted every flower meticulously in the most perfect spaces.”

“Yeah, I watched you do some of it. Can you get to the point?”

“Your’e ruining this special moment!”

“Woah! Don’t throw a tantrum!”

“********! I came here to ask if you would marry me, alright! You couldn’t have just let me finish speaking!”

“Oh.. Narrator. You know I can't marry you.”

“Wh- but why? I spent all this time making this place for you!”

“Because it wouldn't be fair! I've lived here all my life, what about the people out there? The ones I've never met?”

“If we have more outings will you marry me?”

“You know.. I can't just decide right now. Let's try it, and I'll see if I can.”

And the memory ends there. Do you understand? He and Narrator were supposed to get married! A symbol of their everlasting love! Stanley’s only here as a replacement because of.. Whatever happened between them. Maybe Stanley tempted Narrator into accepting him, after all, Stanley's barely seen Narrator's physical form, it just goes to show how much Narrator dislikes him.

Stanley looks like he has no idea what he's doing. Maybe TimeKeeper should pay him a visit? Tour him around the empty void he lives in? Play with him a little? 

(St@/\/L3y.)

What the hell!? Jesus christ. It's that cat thing! Maybe it knows the way back to the parable! It sounded.. Really corrupted though… Well, Stanleys already played around with a virus infected haunted mannequin thing, this probably won't harm him that much!

(<0/\/\3)

Stanley walks towards the cat, and it sprints off in a direction. Didn't it ask him to follow? So, Stanley chases after it. Maybe running around earlier was worse for his legs, using all the energy and whatnot, but at least he's more aware of how to use his legs!

(|-|3s /\/0t w|-|@t y0U t|-|1/\/K)

What do you mean? Who do you mean? 

TimeKeeper is tired of conversing with the human. So, he continued to walk away from the parable, and acted as if he was struggling to speak.

That sentence alone was enticing enough to let Stanley drop his original wants, and follow the glitched out cat instead.

Almost in an instant, Stanley was miles away from the parable. TimeKeeper no longer kept up his facade. Unbeknownst to the both of them, TimeKeeper was something much greater. The purple started to wear away, and a light green started to peek through. Another color came into sight, but Stanley wasn't focused on that anymore. 

The creature contorted in ways one would not dare wish to bend into. Its cat-like exterior practically melted away as it let itself form into something never once seen before and never to be seen in the ever coming future. It sent a shiver down Stanley's spine, and he bolted in another direction. But, the beings' ideas were executing themselves. Stanley ran in a direction away from his beloved parable. 

A shriek could be heard in the distance. It prompted Stanley to turn around, only for him to realize it was playing auditory tricks on him. If he ran in the direction of the sound, he would certainly be found by it, but what if that was the trick? What if he ran away from the sound and ended up right back inside the arms of the creature? Nothing could help him escape from this. 

So instead, Stanley played the dangerous game of letting it chase him. If it chased him, he could watch how it reacts to certain directions and such, and keep an eye on it to make sure it wouldn't catch him. A great idea, but the creature seemed to speed up the closer it got to the green color Stanley saw start to emerge earlier. 

Stanley ran as fast as he could, but he wasn't fast enough. Once the parable was finally in sight, the creature pounced onto Stanley. It was entirely green now, except green particles were flying off of it as if at any moment it could completely dissipate back into the void. The two of them struggled against each other, which resulted in Stanley using that movement to wiggle his way closer to the parable.

Instead of the thing running away once Stanley got back into the parable, Stanley saw it run in just as he did, but it didn't have a physical form here. It seemed as if the being had just become part of the parable, similarly to how Narrator and Curator do, but Stanley wasn't aware of that. He assumed the creature had simply vanished, or ran away because it couldn't get Stanley while he was inside the parable. 

“Stanley! What on earth were you doing outside the parable!? Do you understand how dangerous that is!?”

Stanley ended up in the employee lounge after walking through the wall. Narrator doesn't sound as mad as Stanley thought he would be, he sounds more… scared? 

“This is dangerous. You shouldn’t.. you shouldn’t be in that body. Go back to your office.” 

Well, he had fun. That’s what matters most. Even though Narrator ruined the fun, he wasn't planning on staying as this dog for much longer, since that creature could be lurking right outside. It's terrifying to think something like that thing could just be right outside the hallway he's walking in, it's probably safer to live inside a body that can't accidentally slip outside the map. 

It wasn’t that long of a walk, but it felt like it was. No berating from Narrator, just the sound of his nails scraping the carpet, and the rest of the constant sounds emanating from the parable. At least it isn't as silent as the void outside? 

This… oh dear. Stanley isn't sure how he's going to get back into his body. Last time, he was in a ghostly human looking body, this time, he's literally in the body of a dog. How is he supposed to get back into his model!? Awkwardly, that’s how. 

It wasn't very comfortable, but he wiggled his way into the chair. By that point, his body was back to being see-through and made of cyan lights. Just a little more movement until he was in the right position, and suddenly, he opened his eyes. No longer did he look down and see paws, but instead he saw five fingers on two hands.

[ Narrator? ]

“Yes, dear?”

[ Are you ever going to be done with that ‘surprise’ you keep using as an excuse to leave me? ] 

“Firstly, I will be done soon! Secondly, I am quite hurt you believe I would use this as an excuse for me to leave you! As something to add, who do you think I'm going away to? I've known Curator my whole life, and I don't find much entertainment with Mariella.”

[ Maybe you’re sneaking off to flirt with the bucket. ]

A gasp came from the bodiless being. 

“How dare you accuse me of such a thing! You’re shameful, really..” 

[ Didn’t ultra deluxe take you nine years? ] 

“Yes, I believe it did. However, you weren’t aware of its existence until a year before it was finished! I swear if you keep up this attitude I'll delete the bucket!”

[ Sure you will. Can I go back to listening to my music? ] 

“I’m sure ours would be the better term, since this is our game after all.”

But Stanley wasn’t listening anymore. Music was blaring in the man's ears, and there was no hope in getting his attention once more. Ultra deluxe didn’t even take him that long! Only nine or so years.. 

What to do now.. The model's body is complete, it's fully colored.. Now he has to create the clothing. He could just find some models of clothes, but they wouldn't fit the model properly, since he made the model himself instead of stealing it from another person. 

It would be much easier if he went online and took reference from someone else's models of clothing, then he could use a tutorial to make sure the clothing is the right amount of polygons without lagging out the game. Stanley wouldn't mind being in silence for much longer, right?

The music was starting to bore Stanley. At first, it was a breath of fresh air, his first step into using the internet! But now.. It was just as boring as the rest of the parable. What could he do? He could go on other websites, but he’s sure there’s at least one more thing he could do that would entertain him here in the parable. 

What can Stanley do in such a boring place? Exploring is off limits since he did that just a few minutes ago. He hasn't drawn or painted in a while, has he? No, he hasn't painted since the.. Nevermind. 

Stanley hadn’t realized how long he really was sitting in  that chair for, getting up and trying to walk was horribly painful. Stanley made his way out of his office, slower than he usually would, and searched the entire parable he was willing to go through to find supplies. There weren't any paintbrushes, but there were thousands of pencils. None of them were mechanical, so he unplugged a pencil sharpener from the wall and put it inside the mug he was using to carry all of his supplies around. 

A few pens were scattered around on the floors, so Stanley picked up as many as he could find. He could use them for lineart or maybe a little coloring. His mug was filled to the brim, and his hand held a few papers in the other. If Stanley wanted a reference, he would have to carry his whole computer to the employee lounge, or he would have to draw in his office. Where should he draw? He's been in his office for who knows how long, and the lounge has a couch, but his office was fully redesigned by his Narrator just for him.. Stanley will stick with his office for now. 

Now back inside his office, Stanley layed out the papers on his desk, and scooted his chair over, since he wouldn't be using his computer as much this time around. What should he draw? He could draw the bucket, but he’s already drawn that maybe a thousand times by now. The fern is too detained for his liking, plants in general aren’t exactly pleasing when he wants to draw one. He could draw Mariella or the Curator, but he doesn’t exactly have a good idea of what they look like in his head. And either way, he just doesn’t feel like drawing them. Who does that leave him with to draw? He's most certainly not going to draw his ‘wife’ and the adventure line is too simple for him to draw.. 

Narrator! He could draw his Narrator! The voice had asked him what he would look like as a human earlier, and since Stanley isn’t exactly great with his words like the voice is, he could use this as a way to show his Narrator how he imagines him. 

Before Stanley got to drawing the voice, he made a list of things he thought would look right on the man, such as:

-Adventure line references, a yellow arrow tie, yellow arrow tail, maybe lines over his skin?

-A brown suit. Maybe a brown blazer? Yellow arrows coming off the bottom of a brown coat??

-Yellow glasses. Maybe normal ones but definitely glasses.

-Speakers? He's always so loud, what if his voice gets tired? He could use the speakers. Maybe on his cheeks?

-Clothes should be very fancy. 

-Jewel things coming off of his glasses.

-Multiple arms? He has a script, having more than one of the next papers up might come in handy.

-Most definitely short. An intimidating voice like that calls for something to counteract it

Stanley tried to make sure the drawing was as accurate as possible to the image in his head, but some things just didn't come out right. It took about two hours before Stanley was happy with the drawing of his magnificent Narrator. At least it kept him occupied, at least for a little while. 

Stanley didn't like being left alone. The sound of the clocks continuously ticking was practically engraved in Stanley's mind, and the perpetual sound of the AC humming never left the front of his mind. Eventually, the sound would get to him.

What if his Narrator really did leave him? 

Like clockwork, Stanley's mind hit its breaking point and started to spiral. Simple pleads were continuously repeated in Stanleys mind as if that was the only thing his brain could conjure up. 

His repetitive words started to get on Narrator’s nerves, so eventually after the words did not subside, he spoke up.

“Stanley? Are you alright?”

‘pleasepleaseplease..

“Stanley..?”

‘please..pleasecomebackcomebackplease..

Even shouting couldn't get through the thick fog clouding Stanley's mind. 

‘pleasecomeback..I’msorryfornotlisteningI’lllistenthistimeIpromiseplease..

Eventually, the Narrator gave up on trying to get into Stanley's head. He could just attach himself to Stanley's mind and communicate with him through that, but Narrator worries he might cause something worse to transpire, and he's trying to avoid getting close to Stanley in that way again. It might result in another TimeKeeper. 

Narrator didn't have many options for helping Stanley in this moment. He could send Stanley over to curator and Mariella, but he isn't sure if the two of them are back from their outing, and Curator may not be willing to help the two of them again. He's sure Curator already discovered what he did to Stanley, and he's quite sure she'll be lecturing his ears off when they meet again because of that mistake. 

Narrator has never seen something like this with Stanley. He could try using a reset to fix Stanley, but this seems to be more of a mental issue, which isn't something a simple reset can fix. And it would ruin all of his hard work he's made around the parable. The only other option Narrator could think of using would be.. The model. 

As quick as Narrator could, he loaded in the model. It was still inside the pink robe, but the body was fully colored. It looked like he was human. Brown eyes with hints of gold, salt and pepper hair, a perfect physique in the eyes of his dearest protagonist, it was as if this model was created by the gods themself. 

The model was still in the apartment, but it wasn’t any trouble. His UI could teleport the model into the two doors room, only a few hallways away from Stanley. Narrator is still unable to walk properly, but the model's fleshy body made it infinitely easier to crawl around the parable. The carpet was still disgusting, but he was doing this for Stanley, not himself. 

Many moons ago, something similar to this had happened. Stanley had gone through the freedom ending as his first ending of choice, and after the reset came, he was sent into a sort of panicked shock. It was terrifying for the both of them, but Narrator’s voice alone was able to soothe Stanley out of it. 

Over the course of their relationship, Stanley learned he could rely on the Narrator and Narrator could rely on him in times where neither of them knew what the best course of action would be. 

The skip button. That damned button might as well have ruined everything they built together. After the two of them were fully reset, Stanley didn't believe he was actually hearing his Narrator or that he was in the parable, instead he believed that he had fallen asleep, or was experiencing a mirage. Narrator didn’t believe Stanley was truly there, and didn't notice he was actually there until much later due to the simple idea of being unheard, changing his entire personality. 

Narrator is sitting just outside Stanley's door. Unlike usual, he doesn’t know what to expect when he goes inside. 

He only opens the door a smidge, but it reveals a fright. The lights lining the ceiling have been yanked off the ceiling and wrapped around the door handle, leading to it being tied around his computer. Thankfully, the door opens inwards instead of outwards, effectively ruining whatever Stanley was planning on doing if the computer fell. The chair was pushed up against the door, but not placed properly meaning with just a little force the chair would move and let whoever opens it in. 

Stanley was curled up under his desk, turned away from the door. Narrator could feel how he felt, it was disorienting, and extremely negative. It made him feel like puking, thankfully that human feature is turned off. 

A terrifying reminder of their past ordeals was perpetually repeating in Stanleys mind. The End Is Never The End.. is all he could hear word wise from Stanley’s brain. The small droplets of light dripping into the room were affecting Stanley, but Narrator couldn’t tell in which way, hopefully a positive one. 

Stanley had tears streaming down his face, dried tear stains from tilting his head in other directions, and his eyes refusing to see properly through the water pouring out of them. A light shone in front of him, turning his head to the door, a figure could be seen low down on the floor. This is it, isn’t it? He's going to go back. 

Whatever that thing is, it's going to do something to him. Weather it be the mannequin come to finally act like the virus it is, weather it be Curator come to cleanse Narrator’s half of the parable from his too-human-self, or weather it be something so sinister he couldn’t even think of it, he’ll let it happen to him. Mariella and Curator couldn't care less about him, and his poor Narrator.. He must be such a hassle. It's better if he just lets that thing do what it wants with him, maybe he'll make a fine meal. A nutritional breakfast. 

Slowly, Narrator inches his way into the room. Once he's successfully skinked into the room, he shut the door behind himself, seeing as the light seemed to scare Stanley more. He continued to inch closer, which only made Stanley contort his body in a seemingly painful way. Facial expressions, many Narrator wasnt advanced enough to decipher came from Stanley, but Narrator continued to push on, the only thing in his mind was a hope that Stanley wouldn't get worse after Narrator executed his plan. 

The only other option would be just to wait it out, but Stanley seemed to have been set into this spiral from the lack of his Narrator, so who's to say this would ever die down? And Narrator doesn't want to risk the entire parable being mangled by Stanley, although he has a human model, Narrator isn’t quite sure what Stanley's fully capable of. 

Narrator used the fleshy appendages attached to the main core of this body to maneuver his way over to Stanley, it was most certainly frightening, and probably one of the reasons Stanley was afraid to let the creature near it, but Narrator didn't have the time to remember that, and kept pressing on. 

Stanley is utterly horrified, if Stanley was in a normal headspace right now, he would be thinking obscenities at the creature. To his dismay, the creature can't seem to take a hint and won't go away, instead choosing to come closer, about an arms length away at this point.

Narrator may not be able to use his legs for what they are usually intended for, but he can use them in almost every other sense. Sitting is something Narrator has basically mastered, so he won't have to crawl up Stanley’s arm to stabilize himself. 

Stanley watches through his tears in pure shock and horror as the figure he still has yet to decipher picks itself up off the ground and pulls itself into some position in front of him. Stanley didn't care to find out what kind of position it was sitting in, all he needed to know was that it was sitting. Maybe it would take its time to eat him alive? Maybe it would play with him before ending his life quickly. The thing leans forward as if it was inspecting him. Maybe Stanley's scared demeanor is letting it have a chance of heart? Hopefully not, if it does change its mind Stanley would have to take action on his own. 

What does the creature do?

It tears through Stanley's flesh, sinking its sharp teeth into his skin, puncturing it down to the bone. Gripping his limbs and crushing the bones beneath. Ripping him apart with its claws, sharp enough to do damage but dull enough to have the action repeated again and again. Engulfing his vision in black and red, yet not enough for him to let go of reality, forcing him to endure the pain even if for only a few minutes more. 

But Stanley's terrified ramblings aren’t true, the more human that not mannequin instead gives Stanley a hug, it's improper, and certainly not practiced, but it's the best his Narrator could do for him in the moment. 

That simple action was shocking enough to break the spiral Stanley was in. with his brain in a calmer state, he realizes the mannequin has evolved greatly since he last.. Slept with it. It has realistic skin, the texture feels just right instead of like silicone. It's colored properly, and it's finally grown a pair of eyes! No clothes yet, but it's got hair this time! Narrator wouldn’t be happy about this, but he isn’t around right now, right? Stanley should.. He should enjoy this while it lasts. 

Narrator believed he had comforted Stanley, and planned on leaving soon after, but instead Stanley had started to forcefully pick him up and move him around, inspecting every little detail he put into the model. It felt nice being appreciated like this, but something else started to creep up. From his fingertips lightly pressing against Stanley's back, to the forceful touches of Stanley's rough hands quickly moving all over Narrator's body, the heat starts to pool in Narrator's gut once again. 

There was a chance Stanley had tried talking to the being at some point. Whether it be through mouthing words, or just using his usual sign-language, there was at least something or some way Stanley could have tried talking to it. However, the growing sensation in Narrator and the fact he is in Stanleys lap under his desk, there's no chance of him trying to look for any way Stanley could be trying to talk to it. 

Something a little farther down on his body seems to be making moves of its own, and Stanley takes notice. Stanley doesn't think the carpet outside his office would be any more comfortable than the carpet inside his office, so he decides doing this here wouldn't hurt too much. 

Stanley started with what he did last time, peppering kisses all around the face of the being. A line of kisses to the forehead, down the side of its face over to its cheek, a few on its nose, and more on the other cheek. 

But the mannequin now turned human wanted more from Stanley. It wrapped its arms around the back of Stanley's neck and pulled his face closer. Narrator knew things like this were not appropriate for their relationship, they were just barely friends! But he craved Stanley oh so badly. Maybe in the future they’ll be more than friends with benefits. Stanley isn't even aware of the fact this is his Narrator yet.

Before Narrator could continue thinking about how Stanley has shown his passion for this model more than once without realizing this model is someone he already knows, Stanley takes the move and kisses the model on the lips. It was forceful enough for Narrator to let out a small gasp, which invited Stanley into the beings mouth. 

Unlike the last time, there were no sharp edges where the lips of the being should have been. Instead there were lips softer than anything Stanleys ever felt, and the mouth was much more realistic than the last time. No longer was it a dry space he had to lubricate with his own saliva, the being had learned how to produce its own. Their spit mixed intricately leaving a trail between the two after breaking apart.

It seemed like an eternity before Stanley had brought his mouth back to the Narrators, but it didn't matter now that Stanley's mouth was back on his. His small gasp had evolved into short muffled moans, and his fingers Started to grip the back of Stanley’s head, looking for a sort of support. 

The beings mouth was overly hot. Stanley believed it must’ve miscalculated the temperature a human's mouth should be at, but it seemed to get even hotter as it pulled the hair at the base of Stanley’s neck. 

Stanley knew he couldn't lick the inside of the beings mouth forever. As much as he wanted to, he wasn't sure when Narrator would catch him doing this with.. Whatever this creature is. If Narrator caught them, there's no telling what he may do to the both of them. 

Stanley retracted his tongue from the beings and watched as the trail of spit between them eventually broke. The creature seemed to be in a daze, maybe it needs oxygen? Its mouth hung open slightly and most of its weight was pressed against Stanley's arms, holding the being up and preventing the two of them from making out on the ground. Its lips were pink and swollen, with a slight shine from their mouths connecting earlier. 

The colored mannequin opened its eyes slightly to look at Stanley and let out a low whine. Stanley almost didn't hear the sound, as he was too fixated on the slight hints of gold shining through its deep brown eyes. 

A slightly louder whine brought Stanley out of his trance and he started to remove the robe on the being. Its robe was once again untied, making the removal process much quicker. It didn't have any clothes on underneath, so he leaned the mannequin on one of the walls underneath his desk and got to removing his own clothes.

First his tie came off, being thrown in the corner of his office with the pink robe. Then his work shirt was slowly unbuttoned. His white t-shirt was taken off next showing off his slightly toned upper body. Slowly, he slid his belt off, then unbuttoned and unzipped his black pants. His bulge was quite evident through his boxers, but after taking off his shoes and pants fully, he left everything else on, just to taunt the being. 

Stanley moved closer to the creature and brought his lips over to the connection area of its neck and shoulders. He hovered over it slightly, pressing a few sparse kisses around, then quickly bit down, causing a shocked moan to rip through the beings vocal cords. More wet kisses were pressed on its neck and shoulders, along with a few more bites, some earning sucking on them if the being had emitted a louder moan than usual. 

Stanley moved down and debated playing with its nipples, but decided not to, as his Narrator must be nearing finishing the so-called ‘surprise’ he's making for Stanley. It's most likely another death ending, how fun!

He shouldn’t be thinking of things like that right now, he'll just get himself mad, then he won't be able to give the being what it wants. What they both want. 

Almost effortlessly, Stanley flipped the being on its stomach, and pushed the two of them forward. Now, the two of them were closer to being in the middle of the room, with Stanley behind the exposed creature. 

Its sounds were almost heavenly, just a bit more teasing and he’ll be getting sounds so perfect, sounds only he would ever hear.  This was as close as he would ever get to doing something like this with his actual Narrator, which is why he finds it so important to keep the being a secret. 

One finger was pushed into its ass, and a slightly pained moan shot through the room. A few seconds to let it catch its breath, then he started to move it. Once he felt that one finger isn't enough anymore, he pushed another one in, his middle finger. A few seconds to adjust, maybe a few seconds less as the two of them were getting impatient, and he started moving. Once he felt those two fingers were able to freely move inside its ass, he took the two of them out.

A slightly muffled whine came from the being, Stanley only wished its face wasn't buried in its arm and the overly muffling carpet. Curse comfortable items for being so sound-proof! 

Neither the previously mannequin now turned human, nor Stanley wished to wait any longer. Stanley quickly pulled his boxers off as if he had practiced the move over and over to make it as flawless and quick as possible. 

Even seeing it for the second time, Narrator was left speechless. Stanley was always the most average man, and he still is, but without the reference of other people Stanley seems so… pleasing. He's infuriatingly enticing, something so delectable it's almost too good to be put into words, but there isn't any time to be thinking up effortlessly intricate poems about Stanley now, he's too far gone for that now. 

Stanley lined his member up with the beings hole, but faltered slightly. It seemed like he had his mind elsewhere, instead of on the being. Stanley moved back slightly, letting his appendage roll between the creature's cheeks, and causing a small groan to come from the being. Stanley grabbed a paper off of his desk, and tossed it near the door, Narrator could figure out what was on the paper if he just lifter his upper body with his arms, however he felt a familiar tingle near the rim of his hole, and decided it would be better if he refrained from moving away from Stanley. 

Stanley pushed inside the being and a longer whine was pulled from the Narrator's throat. He had already experienced this once, and expected himself to get more accustomed to the feeling, but something was just.. Entirely new. It didn't feel like it was coming from him, and he didn't feel it coming from Stanley either, it was just something, entirely new. 

Even with the fact Narrator felt he would never get used to this, maybe he could get used to the idea of that. It wasn't like he didn't enjoy the time he spent with Stanley doing this, even if this was the only thing they've done together, it felt nice. The entire ordeal is overly pleasurable, and the cuddling with Stanley afterwards was most certainly something he would do with Stanley after he finished the model. As long as Stanley would be up for it. Would he?

Before Narrator could continue to spiral about if Stanley would cuddle with him or not after he reveals he's made a model for him to see Stanley from a linear perspective, Stanley leaned forward and bit the area between his neck and shoulder, but he bit more towards Narrators back seeing as Stanley was pounding into him from behind instead of from the front. 

More moans and high pitched whines started to pour out of Narrator's mouth, keying Stanley in on the fact Narrator wouldn't stand for much longer. With that, Stanley sped up, which in turn caused Narrator to let out even louder moans, but Stanley knew that he would bring himself closer to release by doing so, and bringing their releases closer together.

Narrator’s vocal cords started straining at this point, becoming more hoarse and almost screaming out his moans. Stanley's thrusts became sloppy, but something felt different inside him. There was an underlying urge, an urge to keep going, something forcing him to try and get deeper inside the being. He brushed it off for now. 

Stanley buried himself inside the creature's ass, the being pressed back into Stanley, looking for just the smallest bit more friction, causing Stanley's tip to press into its prostate. A loud moan was heard, and the two of them came together. 

Puffs of breath were all that was heard. Narrator assumed Stanley would just cuddle with the being afterwards, but he felt a sort of urgency in Stanley. A few of the pillows scattered around the room, along with Stanley's only blanket were grabbed, then Stanley hurriedly rushed out of the room. 

Narrator would ask what Stanley was doing, but he had just worn out his voice and didn't exactly want to use it. And even if he did, he wouldn't reveal himself to Stanley that easily. 

Stanley came back relatively quickly, but once again he didn't cuddle with the creature. Instead, he picked it up bridal style once more and Started to carry it out of the room. Maybe Stanley would bring the two of them back to the bedroom to sleep again? Or maybe Stanley brought the blanket and pillows out of his office because he put them on the lounge couch for them to sleep there instead. The couch isn't exactly comfortable on its own..

However, all of Narrator’s guesses were wrong. Stanley used his foot to kick open the door of the broom closet, and left the model inside the blanket-pillow cocoon Stanley had made. Firstly, how rude to leave your intimate partner in such a- A.. Dingy Dirty Place! Secondly, Narrator is only now realizing Stanley had walked through the office in just his socks. What if his co-workers came back!? Stanley is just… troubling. 

There was a paper in here. That must've been what Stanley brought in here before he brought Narrator’s model inside. He made a virtual copy of the paper and put it back where Stanley left it, just in case Stanley ever decided to look back in the broom closet. 

Should Narrator bring this up with Stanley? He had upset him earlier by pretending he had no idea what the thing was, but Stanley just walked around the office naked for christ sake! He should be reprimanded for that, but Narrator wasn't in his omnipotent state to see that, and Stanley knows because he would’ve pointed it out. 

Narrator could ask about the missing blanket and pillows, right? Surely that seems like something he wouldn't have noticed initially but noticed later on. Splendid! Now.. Narrator should get himself out of this model and back to work. 

Trying to get Stanley to say where he hid the items may be slightly tricky, as Narrator isn't able to see inside the broom closet. Narrator cannot see what he had not made, that's usually why he tries to avoid being just.. Out in the void. He didn't make any of that space, meaning Narrator genuinely has no idea how big that area is, while also reaffirming why he uses speed to rip through the layers of the void to create a hole leading to wherever he wants to go. The opposing thing he could do is look for the large hole he and curator ripped when coming here for the first time, but again, he doesn’t have any clue where that is and he isn't exactly keen on looking for it. 

“Stanley.”

Narrator realized he should've given Stanley a few more seconds to ready himself, as he was still adjusting his tie and collar of his work shirt. 

[ Hey.! what do you want.. ] Stanley's movements were shaky and awkward, he tried to hide that but it might've just made him more suspicious. 

“I was doing my work, as I have been, and I noticed your office looks a little.. Barren, I might say. I’m aware one of your blankets is in the apartment, but where has your other one gone? Your pillows? Haven’t you complained about the office air conditioning being too high all the time?”

Maybe Narrator was a little harsh, picking apart every little thing about how odd it was that Stanley's requested items were missing, but he had to act like that otherwise Stanley would know something was wrong with him. 

[ Oh that? I.. I left them in the broom closet! I put them there because i was planning on taking a nap some time later. ]

“For what reason? You know the broom closet is off limits for more than 20 minutes due to the fact I can't see you in there.”

[ I’ll take them out later! Don't worry yourself so much..! ] 

Narrator wasn't sure what he got out of that small conversation, but he felt like he had gotten enough and dropped it. 

Now what was that paper? Apparently it was so important to hide itStanley hid it from him before he hid his unfinished model. Pulling up a computer, Narrator went into the files and found the digital copy of the paper. The paper didn't have much on it, it was a simple drawing of… someone. 

Grey hair with yellow streaks.. pale skin with amber eyes.. A hint of green in the eyes? Interesting. A brown blazer with gold buttons, the pocket adorned with some sort of gold. Darker brown pants with brown dress shoes. Oh, how unprofessional! The other choice of shoes have yellow laces.. 

On the back of the paper, there's a few drawings of things Stanley couldn't decide on. A long thin horn, or twin horns. Possibly three? They would either be black with yellow grooves or yellow with the base starting out as black, fading to orange, and ending with a bright yellow. Maybe Narrator would even make the tips glow in the dark?

Twin yellow tails, or just one? Arrow tips of course. These notes are so.. Silly. They certainly aren’t the kind of notes you should show your co-workers. 

Wings? That's absurd. The wings were described to be a cream color, with yellow tips on all of the feathers. Near the sketch of the wings was a sketch of body markings. Scars mapping out arrows all over the body, or maybe just traditional yellow arrows lining his skin. Freckles were thought on but dropped because Stanley already has some. 

A robot? That's something Narrator would have to entirely do-over, as his model already has human organs. Perhaps a Halloween costume? Maybe later, Stanley seems to have already given thought to halloween costumes. He couldn’t decide if Narrator should be a vampire or a werewolf. A vampire of course! What kind of heathen would willingly choose to become some sort of hairy beast who rips their clothes every time the moon shines bright enough. 

All of these are very time consuming ideas, so Narrator would be sure to only bring them out for special occasions. 

Narrator knew what he was looking at. He was looking at what Stanley imagined him to be. It looked.. Similar to what Narrator had modeled. The eyes were different, but that's nothing compared to the other changes he would need to make. First and foremost, he needed to model the clothing. 

In actuality, the drawing Stanley made had infinitely made Narrator’s modeling job easier. He knows exactly what Stanley wants, and he can recreate it perfectly in his mind. Force what he thinks to become real, and he can just model over it. 

The clothing wasn't that hard to model with the projection, however the wings would prove to be a challenge. Stanley had drawn the back side of the left wing, closed. Narrator wanted the wings to actually work, instead of being some sort of eye candy. Nothing a little piracy can't fix, right? 

https://www.thecrookedfeather.com › commission-pricing

Perhaps there are some things humans wont take the time to create. At least not on a computer. These wings look articulated enough, Narrator can change the color and pray a large amount of coding will fix it. 

Narrator made sure to save his model and work on the other pieces Stanley wanted separately. If he works on them and lets them be separate meshes, he can code them to be a toggle feature in his UI. 

A few more tweaks to the color, and it seemed perfect. Narrator turned the yellow tips gold instead, as he felt the color suited the wings better. Along with that, he made an alternative color choice with charcoal wings and yellow tips. 

The horns were easy, just pile a few rhombuses on eachother, and leave the tips as triangles. Use the smoothing tool on the lightest setting so it doesn't crash the parable, and they look as good as Narrator wanted them to! He made sure to have both of the ones on the sides of his forehead toggle-able, along with the middle one so he would be able to mix and match as he pleased. 

He most likely wouldn't use just the middle one on its own, as he felt it made him look too similar to a unicorn. Despite the fact he looks nothing like a unicorn, and most importantly isn't a horse. 

Narrator had already put two tails on the model, but pulling them off wasn't that hard, especially since he was just importing them to be a separate togglable model. He made sure to fuse them together on another separate modeling sheet so he would have the option of just one larger tail, or two thinner tails. 

Since Narrator already decided to put off the robot model for later, and decided Stanley would look much better as the werewolf, modeling some of the smaller bits for the vampire model wouldn't hurt, right? Narrator’s already left Stanley alone far longer than he would like to admit, so he could spare a few more minutes. 

The small fangs were toggleable, but separate from the rest of the vampire model. All he had to do was take the teeth usually used for vampire blood sucking and add another triangle to the tip, then smooth it a bit more, and color the teeth. 

Oh! Narrator almost forgot the skin markings! Yellow arrows would be all he modeled for now, scars seemed too harsh for how the rest of his body looked. The yellow arrows were not that hard, just modify the color texture of the body and save it separately. 

Now that everything was done, Narrator felt.. Empty. He had spent so much time working on modeling and coding that now he was “finished” he wasn’t exactly sure what to do with himself. 

While yes, he could just start working on said other things he has set himself up to work on, or he could monitor the coding some more, theses this nagging feeling at the back of his metaphorical brain, the idea that he needs to do something with his model now, yet he just can't figure out what. 

The model is entirely finished for christ sake! What on earth would he need to do with it! This feeling isn't some sort of.. Longing, correct? He hasn't let himself get so attached to Stanley this model has he? Some being like him shouldn't even feel this kind of need! 

Besides, he can't go down now, he needs- he.. He needs to plan for something like this! It's an important event and certainly will make or break their frenemy-ship if the narrator were to do something wrong! 

Narrator could.. He.. he could write a script! Yes, what a marvelous idea! Narrator could write a script for meeting Stanley!