bottlecaplogs | July Catch-All

As did you.

[She laughs a little—softly, almost self-deprecatingly. She did do a number on them, didn't she? It was hardly ladylike, but what else was she to do, when they were threatening her and her teammates? And she would be lying if she said that she didn't feel gloriously beastlike and powerful in that moment...]

I'm just fine as well, thanks to you and Mx. Siffrin. The both of you suffered far worse injuries than I did... [Her grin becomes more of a grimace as she says this, but she keeps her spirits high.] Considering that, I think it would be best for us to focus on watering and weeding for the time being.

[Weeding is taxing work, of course, but it seems like more manageable work for a Sunkern and Yungoos duo than repairing growboxes.]

[The mention of 'Mx. Siffrin' sours his mood a little, visibly so. He plucks weeds out rather unconventionally: by reaching with his own roots into the soil and tearing the weeds out like that. It's easier for him than lifting a watering can.

He doesn't say anything for a while. It's warm and golden light is filtering down onto the other plants. He used to help his dad in the garden like this. Asgore always liked flowers, and grew a variety of them before he became obsessed with golden ones. He remembers spending forever trying to get all the grass stains out of his fur.]

Lady-- I mean, Lusamine. [Will someone like her get mad if he doesn't call her Miss Lusamine or some crap? He hopes she doesn't want him to call her 'mom'.] What was your life like back home? Before you came here?

[Sharp as ever, Lusamine notices the sudden shift in Flowey's mood, but she says nothing about it, choosing to comment only on how clever his weeding method is before starting in on her own work. She allows the silence to settle over them both as she refamiliarizes herself with gardening, with tending to plants with her own hands (or rather paws, now).

There was a time she did this often with Mohn and the children, simply for the joy of it, but in more recent years, care of the vast, lush gardens surrounding the mansion on Aether Paradise had fallen instead to her staff. Still, it all comes back to her easily, even in her new form—albeit not without a distant sting of nostalgia.

Both out of curiosity and to distract herself, she means to ask Flowey what might be on his mind and perhaps convince him to explain his recent, conspicuous absence. To her surprise, he is the first to speak up.

She doesn't mind being called by her first name alone, but the question does give her pause. As she wonders, she takes her time pouring water over the roots of a flower she doesn't know the name of.]

... Why do you ask?

[Why, because she was about to ask him what was on his mind and maybe explain his absence, of course. And also, because he wants to know, or something.]

Don't you remember? When we met, you said you couldn't summarize your entire life in one story. And you didn't want to tell it because we were trying to escape the tunnels, anyway. But we have time now!

[He remembers the scars she tries so dutifully to ignore; he remembers flashes of white tentacles and promises of paradise. But, like all the other shared memories he saw, it's more of a memory of a memory than anything. He's interested... but that would invite her to pry into his backstory, too.]

If you don't want to talk about it, then no skin off my stem. Just thought I'd give you the chance to share it and not some memory-fog-crap. [He guesses he'll let her ask him questions if she wants, instead. She's earned that much.]

[Lusamine exhales a quiet sigh. Regrettably, she does remember saying that.]

Yes... I suppose I did.

[None of it is a secret, exactly, but her reluctance to speak about it is obvious. She could start with a surface-level description—her profession, her old passions, her knowledge of Pokémon... But she senses the strength of Flowey's curiosity. Inevitably, he'll ask her about the things she hates speaking of the most.

Eventually, as she's lifting the watering can and bringing it to the next plant in line, she speaks without looking at him.]

Truthfully, Flowey... I just don't see much reason to reflect on that time. [Yet she's been forced to time and again—in the fog, in the tunnels, in the rain. The thought makes her skin crawl.] That life is—quite literally—worlds away now... And the world I am from ceased being home to me long ago. There is nothing left for me there.

[At first, he wants to grumble... but then, her next sentence punches him in the gut.]

... I get it. There's nothing left for me, either. [He tries to grin.] ... This new world is all I've got. It's not always so bad. I've got you, and the guild, and... I might evolve! And...

[...]

... It's only a matter of time until I ruin all of that, too. [He slumps.]

[Lusamine flicks an ear, then finally turns her head to face him, smiling faintly at, I've got you. His last sentence, however, makes her face fall.]

Now... Why do you say that?

[But it's only for a moment. Soon, she's grinning again, in a way that she must think is reassuring.]

Whatever you may have done or suffered before... None of it matters now. [Her grin spreads wider.] Don't you see? The both of us have been given a truly rare gift indeed: the chance to remake ourselves, free of the burdens of our past.

[Within this new world's constraints, that is. Not one for ugly truths, she doesn't say that part aloud.]

... Maybe it's like that for you. You've still got a soul.

[He plucks one last weed and leans back with a sigh. Time for a break. He'd rather pluck every weed in the city than have this conversation right now, but...]

Do you remember when we were on the Dondozo bounty? I was going to say something after I almost drowned, but I got interrupted.

[He waits for her to respond before monologuing for once. He's clearly hesitating.]

[Lusamine still remembers it distantly, like a bad dream: soullessness, that feeling of unfeeling that crept through the tunnels where they met. Though she knows what he's referring to, at least in some way, she is quick to argue:]

I believe that all Pokémon possess a soul. That includes you.

[In any case, he has something he wants to tell her now. Putting her own work on pause as well, she eyes him expectantly.]

I do.

[He doesn't reply to her comment. Maybe things work differently in this world, but he can't imagine having a soul again. He can still feel the hollowness, same as it's always been.]

I don't have a soul.

[He pauses, letting that sink in.]

Haha... it's a long story. But... My best friend and I had... a plan. We were going to free all the monsters trapped underground.

It didn't work.

After I died, the next thing I knew was waking up as a flower. I couldn't feel my arms or legs... I couldn't feel anything. I called out for help.

But...

[Nobody came.]

Anyway, eventually... Asgore... my father, I mean. He hugged me and told me he'd never let anything bad happen to me again. But I still didn't feel anything. Sadness... joy... it all felt like it was happening to someone else. Like there was a layer of glass, or a screen, between me and it. But most of all, I couldn't feel love. Not for my dad. Not for my mom. Not for anyone.

It turned out that I was nothing but pure 'determination'- will to live- injected into a flower that had my dust on it. There's some last echo of my soul that makes me 'me'. But that stupid kid I was is gone.

[He sighs.]

... When you were being all nice to me, I still couldn't feel anything. I can never care about you back. So... that's it. You can go find a new kid, now.

[Lusamine listens in silence, her expression unreadable. The quiet stretches on even after Flowey's finished speaking, almost long enough that it seems she might really be considering finding a new kid—until she finally responds.]

... I have something that I must admit to you as well, Flowey.

[She sits with her tail coiled around her feet, as if to demonstrate that she doesn't plan on leaving, and draws a paw to her chest, over her heart.]

When you and I first met, in those horrid tunnels... I was shown what I believe to be your memories. I felt it myself, as if it was my own memory... What it was like to be without a soul. It was... [Beyond description, truly, when there was no true emotion to be experienced. Pure emptiness, like that she felt before Nihilego joined with her. Only after it was done could she conclude with certainty that it was...] Unspeakably horrible. Unbearable.

[She knew already, she means to tell him. Some of these details are new to her, but his main point was already known to her when she decided to stay with him.]

That being said... I know for a fact that you have a soul now. If you truly felt nothing, how could you weep as you did, when you thought Mx. Siffrin would be lost to the sea?

[Her silence is unbearable. He's almost considering running away when she finally replies.

It's ... strange, imagining now that someone else has experienced what he has, even for a moment. It's a form of validation almost bordering on comfort. It also makes him feel ten times worse. It's as if she took a weight he's been shouldering for years, told him it's unbearably heavy, and then put it back on him.

It's not her fault, of course. It's always been his own.]

I did not weep. I couldn't care less what happens to that idiot.

... it's more like... they would've died saving a thing like me. And the last thing I would've said to them would've been something cruel. [... And yet, he still acts like this. The first thing he did upon confirming their safety, after the battle ended, was make fun of them.

Flowey doesn't know how to reply to her comment about him having a soul. In his old world, he didn't-- he knew that as well as he knew that he was a flower. Here, even basic metaphysics are different. He still doesn't feel things like he used to... and love is still absent.

But even if he can display basic remorse, simple feelings does not a person make.]

All the same, the tears you shed were real. You did weep and you did care, in some way.

[This much was perfectly obvious to her, but she supposes she can't blame him for not seeing it himself. The poor thing has been so damaged—hollowed out for so long—that he can't even recognize his own feelings. Fortunately, he has her now to remind him.]

Sweet Flowey... What did you hope to gain by telling me this?

[She doesn't get it.

... Of course she doesn't. Experiencing what he did for a few moments is nothing. What a pair of idiots they both are-- at least they have that in common.]

Hope? I didn't 'hope' for anything. Just thought I'd try to get you to understand. There's no point in loving me. I'll never love you back. [More accurately, he'll never be able to. But, he needs to make it as clear to her as possible.]

... Do you get it yet? It doesn't matter what you 'think' or 'know'. I'm the one who lives like this every stupid day. So what if I let out some crocodile tears once? Maybe I 'feel' things sometimes, but not what really matters.

[He huffs. Just say it, Flowey, he thinks. Tell her that you hate her. Tell her the only reason you've entertained her is because she's a weird amnesiac with a violent streak, and it's funny to him.]

... Firepaw already realized I'm irredeemable. Firepaw! A trusting idiot like THAT! The more time you spend acting like I can be 'fixed', the more it'll hurt you once you realize I can't, also.

Edited (grammar) 2025-07-29 21:35 (UTC)

[She doesn't believe for a second that those were nothing more than Krookodile tears. She doesn't believe him at all, really—but she'll entertain his logic for a moment.]

If you feel nothing that "really matters", then what point is there in telling me that I ought to treat you differently? It doesn't matter either way to you, does it?

[She gazes over the garden, the assortment of flowers they've been tending to together that are already starting to perk up again, lush and vibrant in the sun.]

Even if a garden may be incapable of loving me in return in the same way a human or Pokémon can... It is enough, to see it thrive in my care.

[But it seems there's something else at the root of Flowey's foul mood. Lusamine turns her attention back to him.]

Irredeemable? [Her eyes narrow—displeased, maybe even vengeful—then soften with doubt.] Did he really say that?

Nope! Let's see... Pretty sure his words were "eat crow food, asshole," but I did have it coming. I had the audacity to tell him to watch his back around someone called 'Dark Heart'. What a jerk I am! And when he threw a little temper tantrum, I told him the truth. He's an idiot to trust someone like that and he's an idiot to trust me, too!

[He doesn't mention the 'birthday' part. He's too old to care about birthdays.]

July Catch-All

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