Warm white foam spills out of the puncture wounds in Chara's mother's wrist, (* Smells like mothballs.) and she shrieks at Frisk:
"Stop it! You're hurting me!"
...But she doesn't let go of Frisk either, continuing to wrestle with them and trying to force their head closer to their plate. And at the other end of the table Chara raises their arms in front of them, though they keep staring at Frisk and their mother with a tense face. They'd bolt if they could, but...
(The buttercups, at least, are momentarily forgotten thanks to the fight unfolding in front of them.)
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Date: 2016-07-25 03:42 am (UTC)"Stop it! You're hurting me!"
...But she doesn't let go of Frisk either, continuing to wrestle with them and trying to force their head closer to their plate. And at the other end of the table Chara raises their arms in front of them, though they keep staring at Frisk and their mother with a tense face. They'd bolt if they could, but...
(The buttercups, at least, are momentarily forgotten thanks to the fight unfolding in front of them.)