#purlingheartstrings

[ Text: Esiel ] 

She had to find a way to send him away so that he wouldn’t get suspicious. But first she had to get downstairs without having heaps of trouble. Moira carefully grabbed onto the thick threads that hung from the ceiling and made her descent. She had almost been successful until her foot slipped on a bolt of cloth, bringing the rest of it crashing down on her. The longest stream of profanities in both human and demonic languages shortly ensued afterwards

The last thing he’d expect was to see someone kill in defense of himself, and much less when it came to Moira, sure, at first glance she may have seen inoffensive, but he knew best than to judge without proof, and now he’s got some proof. 

Now, what was shocking was not the fact that she’d killed somebody in front of him, no, he was used to seeing such things, in Ubromohn it’s common, after all, to see death here and there, expecting to see someone die when you turn around the corner was always a common thing. What was shocking was that she did it in defense of him, protected him, to be exact, she murdered somebody for him, right? Now that, as much as they were friends, was not something he expected.

And he stared there, thinking of which words to say, between shock and surprise he felt gratitude, after all, being protected was not something that he was used to, not at all!

With a pause, he glanced away, before glancing back at her.

When had this resteraunt come to town? Pressing his hands to the window and looking out, Grillby was wholey certain that he was still in Snowdin. Had it popped up overnight? Magic was amazing, but he’d certainly never heard of a feat like that!

Send me a ‘🎨’ for an aesthetic or mood collage for our muses.

Send me “Goodbye” for the last voice message my muse leaves for yours before they die.

“Moira.” Grillby’s voice was tight and pained. “Shit, I hoped to get you... Not your machine. Ah! Well... At least I got to hear your prerecorded voice, aha...” There’s a sharp intake of air. “I’m sorry.I don’t have much time. You’re... You’re one of my best friends, and I...I wanted to say goodbye. Ah... I don’t have any requests. No one’s going to... Find my dust, so ah...Ah, fuck.”

There’s a dull thud, and the line goes quiet for a moment. “S-sorry. Trying to hold it together. N-now, Gaster and Eri sh-should be fine. Wingdings’ll man up, just watch. Ah... I want you. To go to my room. There’s fabrics there. Woven by my mother. Please, have them. I... I’m going to miss you, Moira. I’ll be waiting on the o-other side with the best b-booze the afterlife has, okay?”

He takes a breath. “Goodbye, Moira.”