#daffyflowey

[besmirched]

...RIGHT.

@daffy-flowey I haven’t HEARD from you in a WHILE. So when I had a GLANCE at your OLD h a n d l e . . . 

Hee hee. MY BAD.

[besmirched]

"Wait..but how did..." He paused, as a look of realization slowly beamed on his expression. If that wasn't Besmirch in Daff's home then who was... "...Oh, I think Daff pulled a prank on me." He said, looking at the cake questionably. "Actually, you can keep that one, I'm not in the mood for sweets at the moment." And when Besmirch had asked who they were, the Flora had completely forgotten something. "Ah! Where are my manners. Name's Johnny, I'm a friend of Emmy and I've been eager to meet you!"

Besmirch simply looked at Johnny with a confused expression....He doesn’t STRIKE me as the kind to pull a PRANK, however in THIS situation, I don’t KNOW another alternative reason as to WHY you would believe that I was somewhere I WASN’T.

At Johnny’s dismissal of the cake, it was submerged back into the inkwell, to be devoured by someone else at some other time.

At the mention of Emmy, the flower’s eyes narrowed, and he more critically analyzed the person before him.

A h . I SEE. You already know that I am BESMIRCH, I presume?

He took a few moments to note specific features that were begging a question....You bear resemblances to an entity known as FLOWEY. Are you an ALTERNATE version of the being, or another entirely? Of course, JOHNNY is a unique name, but then again, so was ‘HAPPY,’ ‘DAFF,’ ‘POTTED,’ and ‘SOULS,’ amongst however many others I had to d e a l with during the days of the HEDGE. The words were all but spat out - it seemed that when referring to the group that had served as Besmirch’s nest, he was a bit sour, for some reason or another.

[your-best-friend-flowey]

The bruised flower walks up to Besmirch quietly and called... "Besmirch... I am sorry. for all that I said and did... I hope you understand and forgive me..." he sighed with remorse, however, he didn't seemed nervous, no matter what could be Besmirch's judgement, he knew he had wronged... he looked up at the tall ink creature and questioned "...how is Disavow doing?"

The gentleman was quietly sitting, with Disavow in his lap. Slowly, his eyes turned to Daff. Beings of ink cannot grow tired or exhausted in the physical sense, and before he had any SOULs, Besmirch knew not what emotional strain was.

However, one thing after another had made him experience a singular mental exhaustion. His eyes reflected this, as he stared at Daff.

...You are FORGIVEN.I apologize for trying to HARM you in a fit of IRRITATION and RAGE.I simply... need some time to rest. So does SHE.

I’m thinking of taking a number of people on VACATION. I think we ALL need it around now...

[your-best-friend-flowey]

@asklucida It might be a little too late for that one.

[your-best-friend-flowey]

Besmirch’s vision blurs, as something horrific ripples through an extension of his very self.

All at once, that piece of him, that which shared in his inkwell, feels severed. He had noticed it when Hysteria was turned, and as the gentleman felt his head swim.

Perhaps Daff had won this staring contest, as Besmirch literally fell over, dispersing into an ink pool.

The flowers in both Emmy’s and Lucida’s respective companies release a quiet whimper of pain.

Their whispers were maddened, manic.

...what happened where is she where is she where did they go wheredidthey go w h e r e  d i d  t h e y  g o

Slowly, the pool of ink disappears from the RUINs, leaving the gentleman’s former company alone.

[two-littlesouls]

"OH DON'T BE AFRAID EMMYYYYIHIHIHIH WHY ARE YOU HIDDIIIIIIING? ARE YOU PLAYING HIDE AND SEEK? OH! OHOHOHOH THAT IS A FUN GAME i HEARD HYSTERIA LIKES TO PLAY HIDE AN SEEK IHIHIHH HYSTEEEEEEEERIIIIIIAAAA"

[your-best-friend-flowey]

daffy-flowey replied to your post “daffy-flowey replied to your post “mmmm….>.>” (he look like he’s...”

(oh he is pissed at the mun >u>' hope he don't come to murder me in my sleep)

Well LOOK what I  f o u n d . . . 

[your-best-friend-flowey]

daffy-flowey replied to your post “The gentleman is twitching. His mouth is sealed shut. The white of his...”

ºuº;

He is standing such that the sunlight from above hits his back, casting a shadow over those standing (or floating) before him.

Glowing red ink flows from his feet, writing a message for those who dare provoke him.

COME NO CLOSER.