Pots was just minding his business one day, perhaps humming the Ruins theme as he idly wanders about the first room while Toriel heads back home, paying him and his music no heed whatsover. You know the room. The one where fallen children tend to land. Except there were no Golden Flowers in it this time. And then, suddenly!
“Howd-” He stares dumbfounded before the cake phases right through him and his face, splatting against the wall instead.
Press F to pay respects to the Innocent Lemon Cake.
“Really, Chara?” he asks with a hint of amusement thinly veiled by an agitated facial expression. He’s probably got some explaining to do. They both probably do, huh?














