[It's kind of pointless to visit the gardens, they realize. Nobody needs to take care of the flowers. They take care of themselves. No weeds to pull, no withering blossoms to deadhead, nothing to prune, nothing to plant. It's perfectly pretty, all the time, without any tending to or nurturing.
They visit anyway.
They shouldn't love flowers anymore, they think, after everything that's happened, but they still do. Think about golden flowers. Think about a joke about two kids who played in a muddy flower garden.
And then... they see him.
Him. Really, actually, truly him. Not a flower, not an empty shell that he says to not think of as really him. Their best friend.]
It... it's you.
[Asriel Dreemurr.
They should just stay quiet. They should run. They should do their best to be gone for a long time. It's not even the right line, that one's for Frisk, they're not supposed to be using it now. But it spills out of them, and their feet feel rooted to the earth. Every part of them feels frozen, because this... is this even real? Did he hear them calling him? Are they... what do they even feel right now? Wonder? Relief? Heartache? Dread? Anger? Shame? They cannot understand themselves at all.]
HOLLERS LOUDLY
They visit anyway.
They shouldn't love flowers anymore, they think, after everything that's happened, but they still do. Think about golden flowers. Think about a joke about two kids who played in a muddy flower garden.
And then... they see him.
Him. Really, actually, truly him. Not a flower, not an empty shell that he says to not think of as really him. Their best friend.]
It... it's you.
[Asriel Dreemurr.
They should just stay quiet. They should run. They should do their best to be gone for a long time. It's not even the right line, that one's for Frisk, they're not supposed to be using it now. But it spills out of them, and their feet feel rooted to the earth. Every part of them feels frozen, because this... is this even real? Did he hear them calling him? Are they... what do they even feel right now? Wonder? Relief? Heartache? Dread? Anger? Shame? They cannot understand themselves at all.]