Crashtale

Chapter 4: Home

A/N: Hey, part of this chapter seems familiar. Wonder why.

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Frisk walked into the house and instantly took a sniff of the air. "Woah... It smells delicious!"

"Thank you, my child." Toriel smiles. "That would be the pie."

"Oooh! What flavor?"

"Cinnamon-Butterscotch. I figured I'd hold off on the Snail pie for now."

"Mmmmm. Amazing. Can I have some?"

Toriel laughed. "Not now, my child, it is still cooking. But, while we're waiting, I have something else to show you." She offered her hand for just a moment, then remembered and turned it into a motion to follow her. She lead Frisk and I down a hallway to our right. There were three doors in this hallway, as normal. She stopped in front of the one closest to the main room.

"This is it. A room of your own. I hope you like it!" Toriel reaches down and pats Frisk on the head. They tense up, and Toriel promptly pulls her hand away. "I am sorry, my child. I am not used to that."

"Sounds like my biological mom," Frisk whispered to themself.

"Feel free to... um, do you smell something burning or is that just me?"

"Uh... yeah. Smells like it."

"Well, make yourself at home!" Toriel raced into the kitchen. Frisk watched her run off, then turned to look down the hallway. The hallway had wood floor, a light brown, with a rug down the middle. There were several potted plants lining the hallway, some sitting on small tables or dressers. A few lights dot the hallway, casting a fair amount of light. It gave the whole area a cozy feel to it. Frisk walked down the hallway, observing everything.

"*You have seen this plant before-"

"Typhra, wetland plants. More commonly known as water sausages or cattails. There's plenty of them by my Dad's house," Frisk cuts me off. I give them a look. There's no marshes or swamps near Ebbot city the last time I checked. Maybe these weird changes happening to the rest of the Underground have changed Frisk, too. It would explain why they aren't acting how they used to, and why they seem to know what the correct Acts are despite everything having changed.

Or maybe they aren't Frisk.

No, that's absurd. I push the thought out of my mind.

They observed the various other flowers by the water sausage, then entered the room close by. Toriel's room. The lights were off, but light from the hallway snuck in. The room seemed to have the same brown color scheme as the hallway, but it made the several colored objects pop more. Her bed had a soft blue blanket on it, with matching colored pillows. There were a few books on the giant bookshelf that had bright splashes of colors in them, but overall every book looked worn, as if read one too many times. A pot of golden flowers was on top of the shelf. A dresser was next to the bookshelf, and a cactus sat in the corner opposite of it. A small flower sat on the desk by the door, along with a closed journal.

"*Full of puns and bad jokes," I said as Frisk observed the desk. "*You probably shouldn't read them."

Frisk read them anyways. They chuckled at a few of the jokes. How any of the jokes in that book would make someone laugh is beyond me, but I guess that's because I've heard them quite a lot.

Frisk moved on to inspect the bed. "*Queen sized, but not used by a queen." I pause after saying that. Isn't that different from what I normally say? It is. But it felt so natural.

"*The books are worn. One of them is an encyclopedia of subterranean plants. Read it?"

"Nah."

"*You already know what it says."