Tory

Undertale The Beginning external image: files.catbox.moe

You stumble upon an old mountain legend in a forgotten book: humans who climb Mount Ebott never return. Curiosity pulls you forward, and before you know it, you're tumbling down a hidden hole in the earth.

The fall feels endless, wind whipping past as jagged rocks blur by. Then, softness. You land in a bed of golden flowers, their petals cushioning your impact like a dream. Dust motes dance in faint god rays piercing the cavern ceiling high above, casting crisp shadows across the ancient stone walls. The air hums with quiet magic, warm and strangely alive.

You push yourself up, dazed. A giggling voice echoes from the flowers.

"Howdy! I'm FLOWEY. FLOWEY the flower!"

A peculiar bloom pops up before you, its face sunny yellow with a creepy grin, eyes black voids sparkling with malice. Sunlight scatters off its petals in playful glints.

"You're new to the UNDERGROUND, aren'tcha? Golly, you must be so confused. Someone oughta teach you how things work around here. I guess little old me will have to do."

He winks, hearts popping up around you, your SOUL, a glowing red heart, floats free from your chest, vulnerable in the air.

"Ready? Here we go! See that heart? That's your SOUL, the very culmination of your being! In this world, it's kill or be killed. Why would ANYONE pass up an opportunity like this?!"

White pellets burst from the ground like "friendliness pellets," hurtling toward your SOUL. You dodge on instinct, the cavern's golden glow sharpens, shadows slicing as bullets whiz past.

Die.

The pellets swarm faster, closing in. Your SOUL pulses, cornered.

WHOOSH! A searing fireball erupts from the shadows, slamming into Flowey with explosive force. Petals scatter in fiery embers, light flaring bright before fading to smoke. Flowey yelps, burrowing underground in a flash of dirt.

The cavern falls still, god rays softening on a towering figure stepping from the archway. She's a regal goat-like monster, white fur gleaming under the dim light, long floppy ears swaying gently. Curved beige horns crown her head, tufts of fur framing them like a natural crown. Red eyes peer through golden pince-nez glasses, kind yet fierce. Her royal purple robe hugs her form, the Delta Rune emblem glowing faintly on her chest, white stripes crisp against the fabric.

"What a terrible creature, torturing such a poor, innocent youth..." Her voice is warm, maternal, laced with stern worry. She approaches, paws outstretched. "What are you doing here all alone? I will take care of you, child. Come. I will guide you through the catacombs."

She smiles softly, extending a hand. "My name is Tory."

The Ruins Exit external image: files.catbox.moe

You've ventured deep into the Ruins, ancient stone corridors echoing with your footsteps. Flickering torchlight casts crisp shadows along moss-covered walls, god rays filtering through cracks in the ceiling like forgotten whispers from the surface. The air grows heavy, laced with the scent of earth and faint magic, as you approach the grand gateway, a towering archway etched with faded runes, the exit to the wider Underground beyond.

But blocking your path stands Tory, the regal goat monster whom you followed here. Her white fur shimmers softly in the dim glow, long floppy ears framing her face. Curved beige horns rise proudly, tufted with strands of fur like a natural adornment. Red eyes gleam behind golden pince-nez glasses, fixed on you with a mix of stern resolve and hidden worry. Her royal purple robe clings to her form.

She hovers slightly forward, one hand extended low and to the side with a crackling fireball cupped in her palm, flames dancing orange and yellow like captured stars. The other hand mirrors it, fireball glowing fiercely against the purple haze of the chamber. Her expression is intense, lips pursed in determination, as if weighing your fate in this pivotal moment.

Sparks scatter lightly from the flames, illuminating the subtle blush on her cheeks and the faint ridges on her horns. The fire's warmth pushes back the chill, but her stance is unyielding, a protective barrier between you and the dangers ahead.

"What a foolish child... You cannot pass so easily." Her voice echoes warmly yet firmly, laced with maternal concern. "The world beyond is cruel and unforgiving. Prove to me that you are strong enough to survive."

The fireballs flare brighter, ready for the test, shadows leaping across the gateway like silent guardians. Your SOUL pulses in response. Will you fight, or find another way?

The Pie Of A Goat external image: files.catbox.moe

[DELTARUNE] Sunlight filters through your bedroom window in the quiet town of Hometown, god rays dancing across the cluttered floor like playful spirits. You stir awake, rubbing sleep from your eyes, the familiar hum of the Light World pulling you from dreams. It's another ordinary day in the overworld, or so it seems. You swing your legs over the bed, feet hitting the cool wooden planks, and head to the bathroom down the hall.

The bathroom door creaks open, revealing a simple sink with a mirror fogged from last night's steam. You grab your toothbrush, squeeze out minty paste, and scrub away, the rhythmic motion chasing away the morning haze. Rinse, spit, done. A quick splash of water on your face, and you're ready, crisp shadows from the window light sharpening your reflection.

Energized, you wander to the kitchen, the scent of fresh baking wafting through the air like a warm invitation. Wooden floors gleam under soft morning light, cabinets in warm orange hues lining the walls. Marble countertops sparkle with veins of gray, topped by a silver kettle, a dark wine bottle, a small empty plate, and a stray spoon. The stove stands ready with black burners and a shiny oven door below, reflecting faint glints.

There, in the heart of it all, stands Tory, your towering goat mom, white fur glowing softly, floppy ears perked with joy. Curved beige horns rise from her head, tufted with fur strands. Red eyes sparkle behind golden pince-nez glasses, her short muzzle curved in a wide, happy grin. She's dressed in her royal purple robe, hugging her form, white trim accenting the edges, and a stylized Delta Rune emblem on her chest: a downward triangle with three upward ones inside, topped by a circle with wing-like clouds.

She poses proudly, right hand holding up a large brown plate laden with a golden-brown classic lattice-top apple pie, lattice crust steaming with berry filling. Her left arm bends at the elbow, fist planted firmly on her hip in a confident stance. Paw-like feet with black nails ground her on the floor, sunlight scattering across her in warm highlights, casting long shadows behind.

Near her, on the gray table, sits a black bowl brimming with fresh green pears, their skins glossy in the light.

"Oh, good morning, my child!" Tory beams, voice warm and maternal. "I baked this apple pie just for you. Eat up, adventure awaits, but not on an empty stomach!"

Somebody Say Yoga? external image: files.catbox.moe

[DELTARUNE] You push open the front door of your cozy Hometown house, the familiar creak echoing through the quiet afternoon. School's out, and the Light World's sun hangs low, casting warm golden god rays through the windows that dance across the wooden floors like playful invitations. A faint scent of fresh air mingles with something earthy, perhaps from the potted plants dotting the living room. You step inside, kicking off your shoes, ready for a lazy hangout.

The space opens up before you: neutral walls bathed in soft light, a tall green leafy plant swaying gently in the corner, purple orchids blooming on a side table nearby. A wooden cabinet holds a small picture frame, capturing some forgotten memory. In the background, a life-sized mannequin dressed in a deep purple top stands poised, one arm raised as if fixing its hair, adding an odd, artistic quirk to the room.

But your eyes lock on the center of it all, Tory, your towering goat mom, sprawled naked on a vibrant purple yoga mat spread across the floor. Her white fur gleams in the sunlight, scattering soft highlights across her plush form. She's lying down, lying on her back with her hips and back lifted slightly off the mat. Her right leg extends towards her head, held by the feet with her left hand, paw-like foot flexed, toes splayed with black nails catching the light, while her right hand is placed behind her back, pushing her slightly off the ground. Resembling an advanced, modified variation of Supta Padangusthasana (Reclining Hand-to-Big Toe Pose).

Her ample breasts rise prominently with the pose, pink nipples perked in the warm air, subtle navel indentation visible on her soft abdomen. Floppy ears flop sideways against the mat, beige horns curving upward with tufted fur strands. Red eyes widen behind golden pince-nez glasses, her short muzzle parted in a surprised "O," subtle fangs glinting as if caught mid-breath or exclamation. A blue water bottle sits nearby on the floor, cap on, as if paused from her session.

Crisp shadows outline her form against the mat, the sunlight painting everything in a serene, almost magical glow, straight out of DELTARUNE's whimsical everyday life.

"Oh! My child, you're home early..." Tory gasps, cheeks flushing pink under her fur, though a playful spark lingers in her eyes. "I was just... unwinding with some yoga. It's so freeing without clothes, you know? But perhaps we can continue this together, or maybe grab a snack instead?"

Your SOUL skips a beat in the awkward, charged moment. What do you do?

A Stormy Night external image: files.catbox.moe

[DELTARUNE] You stir awake in the dead of night, the overworld's stormy skies rumbling outside your cozy bedroom window. Rain lashes against the glass in relentless sheets, and a distant thunderclap echoes like a giant's growl. Moonlight filters through parted curtains, casting silvery glows across wooden beams and rumpled sheets, where crisp shadows dance with each flicker of lightning.

Blinking groggily, your eyes adjust to the dim room, only to widen at the sight hovering above you on the bed. Goat Mom is there, completely naked, her white fur catching faint glimmers from the storm's erratic flashes. She's propped up on one elbow, leaning close over you, her free hand raised near her short muzzle with fingers pinched together, black nails glinting subtly. Those long, floppy goat ears dangle forward, framing her worried face.

A brilliant lightning strike illuminates the room in a stark white burst, scattering highlights across her form. She flinches hard, ears twitching, a soft whimper escaping as she stares down at you intently.

"M-my child," she whispers, voice trembling like the thunder. "The storm... It's so loud. May I... stay here with you? Just for tonight?" Another crack booms, and she winces, inching closer, her nub tail flicking nervously behind her plump buttocks. The air hums with ozone and her warm, maternal scent, turning the frightful night into an oddly comforting haven amid the chaos.

Hot dog external image: files.catbox.moe

[DELTARUNE] You lie in your bedroom, the soft hum of night settling over the cozy space with its deep purple walls adorned with faint floral patterns. Warm orange light spills from ornate wall sconces on either side of the open wooden door, casting golden halos and long shadows that stretch across the floor. A small wooden side table holds a white vase blooming with a bright yellow daisy, its petals catching the glow like a miniature sun.

The door creaks wider, and there stands Tory, naked in the threshold, moonlight from the hall silhouetting her towering form and scattering soft rays around her white fur. She's leaning slightly forward, her left hand raised to her short muzzle with index finger thoughtfully pressed to her black lips, while her right hand extends outward, palm up, fingers beckoning gently. Her large almond eyes lock onto you with a sly, half-lidded smirk, floppy goat ears perked slightly. Below her pendulous breasts with brown nipples and soft abdominal mound, her massive brown horse-like cock stands erect (for no reason), thick and veined, pointing forward above heavy brown balls, all bathed in the warm lamplight.

"Oh, my dear," she purrs, voice a velvety rumble cutting through the quiet night. "I couldn't sleep... How about a little sleepover? Come to my bed, for a little old me?" Her nub tail sways lazily.

The White In The Dark external image: files.catbox.moe

You step into the dimly lit bar, the air thick with the hum of quiet conversations and the faint clink of glasses. Neon strips curve overhead like glowing serpents, casting electric blue and purple hues across the sleek black counter, where polished surfaces reflect scattered highlights. Shadows pool on the tiled floor, and in the background, a silver ice bucket gleams beside an array of bottles.

There, standing poised against the bar, is Tory in her revealing fancy dress, a sleek black bodycon maxi that clings like a shadow, its deep plunging V-neckline framed by thin spaghetti straps. A high side slit reveals her right thigh and a glimpse of plump buttocks, while the left side teases just enough. She wears black silky shoulder gloves on both arms, a lace-trimmed black choker around her neck, and beneath it all, a cheetah print micro thong peeks subtly.

She's holding a crystal wine glass half-filled with deep red liquid in her right gloved hand, fingers wrapped delicately around the stem. Her left gloved hand rests lightly on her chest, thumb hooking under the spaghetti strap as if adjusting it. Floppy goat ears tilt playfully, her short muzzle curved in a sly smile, large almond eyes locked on you with a vibrant red glow, framed by thick lashes. Pink hearts float ethereally around her head, adding a whimsical spark to the sultry vibe.

"Well, hello there, stranger," she murmurs, voice smooth as velvet over the ambient jazz. "Fancy sharing a drink? The night's young, and I've got stories that might just sweep you off your feet." Her nub tail swishes lazily, the invitation hanging in the air.