[How dreadful, Lusamine is about to remark. Were they Pokémon? These tunnels must have been made by something, after all. Perhaps they are intruders in someone's home, opening themselves up to retaliation from its residents.
She gets her answer before she even has time to voice the question. Something emerges from the dirt (a Diglett, her memory supplies through the fog), and suddenly Flowey is on the ground, collapsed at her feet. He shielded her. That realization sends a sudden, murderous impulse through her, along with a dizzying surge of tangled memories: she is the one who protects—her children, her family, all that is hers—and keeps all things in order. She has to fix this. Kill or be killed.
It's as if a switch has been flipped; in an instant, the kindly, harmless woman is gone, and in her place is a vicious animal. With a vengeful hiss, she springs on the attacker, jaws open, and encloses it in her Ice Fang. It squeals in alarm, slashing at her with hidden claws... to no avail, because ice begins to form on its body, slowing its movements until it stills completely, frozen solid.
It isn't dead, of course, or even fainted; only rendered temporarily immobile. Lusamine knows because this moment makes her remember something else, too: the collection room behind the mirror in someone's (her?) bedroom, where hundreds of beloved Pokémon slept lined up in numbered shelves, frozen in time, kept safe forever. She remembers it suddenly, in a jarring flash, before it slips away from her once more.
Releasing the Diglett, she staggers back, shaken by her own behavior and suddenly hyper-aware of her overlarge fangs and the grit between them. That... was hardly proper. She abhors violence. But her baby was in danger and pain; as a mother, what else was she to do?
But... Flowey isn't hers, is he? Not really. She only just met him today. With a shake of her head, she skitters back to his side.]
Oh... Oh, Flowey, are you all right? [Resisting the urge to clean the dirt from his face, she looks him over from a polite distance, searching for any visible injuries.] You defended me... Thank you.
no subject
She gets her answer before she even has time to voice the question. Something emerges from the dirt (a Diglett, her memory supplies through the fog), and suddenly Flowey is on the ground, collapsed at her feet. He shielded her. That realization sends a sudden, murderous impulse through her, along with a dizzying surge of tangled memories: she is the one who protects—her children, her family, all that is hers—and keeps all things in order. She has to fix this. Kill or be killed.
It's as if a switch has been flipped; in an instant, the kindly, harmless woman is gone, and in her place is a vicious animal. With a vengeful hiss, she springs on the attacker, jaws open, and encloses it in her Ice Fang. It squeals in alarm, slashing at her with hidden claws... to no avail, because ice begins to form on its body, slowing its movements until it stills completely, frozen solid.
It isn't dead, of course, or even fainted; only rendered temporarily immobile. Lusamine knows because this moment makes her remember something else, too: the collection room behind the mirror in someone's (her?) bedroom, where hundreds of beloved Pokémon slept lined up in numbered shelves, frozen in time, kept safe forever. She remembers it suddenly, in a jarring flash, before it slips away from her once more.
Releasing the Diglett, she staggers back, shaken by her own behavior and suddenly hyper-aware of her overlarge fangs and the grit between them. That... was hardly proper. She abhors violence. But her baby was in danger and pain; as a mother, what else was she to do?
But... Flowey isn't hers, is he? Not really. She only just met him today. With a shake of her head, she skitters back to his side.]
Oh... Oh, Flowey, are you all right? [Resisting the urge to clean the dirt from his face, she looks him over from a polite distance, searching for any visible injuries.] You defended me... Thank you.