Worst. Crossover. Ever. (closed to the-earths-salt)

[deadlybuttercup]

When all had been said and done, when everyone went on to have their happy ending and left Flowey all alone underground, it hadn't taken long for him to turn back into a flower. Ever since...

Well. boredom, mostly. He knew the Underground inside and out, and it was even more empty without anything to do, or anyone to talk to. He actually kind of missed the big dumb skeleton, Papyrus. If nothing else he was always fun to mess with. But he didn't even have that anymore. Oh well. For the first time he was content to pick a sunny spot and nap. He may not have a soul anymore, but the lingering sense of happiness he experienced as Asriel almost had him...calm.

Then he came. Something that looked like a human but wasn't. Wasn't a monster either for that matter. Something without a soul, like him. Oh, Flowey tried to fight, of course. It was certainly an effort. But there was only so much a flower could do against a creature like Marluxia. All the Nobody had to do was immobilize both him and his pellets, and proceded to dig him up while Flowey screamed and cried and begged to be let go. But he wasn't killed. That might have been nicer.

Instead, now he was here. In Marluxia's room. In a flower pot. With a big stupid pink ribbon tied around it. Watered and kept like a common houseplant.

Most of the time he didn't say a word. Especially not to Marluxia. Not after what he'd done. But now? Now the boredom was setting in. Flowey didn't know how long he'd been in this bland, featureless place, but it felt like an eternity. Marluxia was gone on one of his "missions" or whatever. So of course that left Flowey here alone.

Sure, lightly bumping his head against the window glass wasn't the best thing he could be doing. But it was probably the only thing.

Comments

[the_earths_salt]

It was hard to say how long Flowey had been left alone like this; the world outside the window was gripped in a bleak eternal night, and the blank white walls of this place had no clocks. There wasn't a single way to tell time at all, save for Marluxia's comings and goings. Who else could Flowey possibly use as a gauge, trapped in this room where nobody else ever came?

Nobody else, that was, except a new Nobody today. As Flowey lightly knocked his head against the glass, there was a much firmer knocking on the door, and a muffled deep voice from beyond it. "Marluxia? Do you have a minute?"

Several long beats of silence dragged on, as Flowey's absent captor failed to answer the door. The knocking briefly resumed, louder but clearly more hesitant. ".....Marluxia?" Unless Flowey took it upon himself to answer, he'd soon find he door slowly opening, as Lexaeus cautiously peered in to make sure the Neophyte wasn't simply absorbed in work of some sort.

[deadlybuttercup]

Flowey had more than a few tricks up his sleeve...several of them involved being able to mimic the faces and voices of others. But he had been in here so long he was almost completely resigned to his fate. It took him a while to even recognize that it was an entirely new voice that was calling behind the door. By the time he finally turned to look, said door was already open. Oh, thank God. It was someone new.

"H-howdy. He left earlier. I think." His petals perked up a little. "I uh...don't suppose you'd want to leave a message? On a notebook? Probably leave the pen behind too..."

Please give me something to do.

[the_earths_salt]

"Ah--" Lexaeus faltered for a moment, quietly taken aback as he realized he was being addressed by the potted plant occupying a place of honor on Marluxia's desk. A buttercup, by the looks of it, though he'd never seem one with six petals before. What on earth would prompt Marluxia to give such special consideration to a humble wildflower like that? It didn't seem to suit the man, to be honest--for all his regal poise and charm, buttercups were typically regarded as incongruously..... simple and joyful, even lighthearted. What a jarring contrast!

Still, there was no sense in being rude. Even if Marluxia was ranked far beneath him in the Organization's hierarchy, once the Oblivion Project was up and running properly, he would be Marluxia's subordinate. Besides, the flower seemed..... harmless enough, he supposed, at least for the moment. Eager, even. Perhaps Marluxia's powers were great enough to fashion himself a servant, of sorts? Was that even possible? "Thank you, but I don't suppose it would do much good; we have matters to discuss in too much detail for notes to serve any purpose." As the future Lord and Master of Castle Oblivion, Marluxia needed to be involved in most of the preparations in considerable depth, after all.

Logically, Marluxia's mission running long meant he should just leave, and try again later in the evening or tomorrow morning. But there was always a chance that the man could show up at any moment, and Lexaeus couldn't help but entertain some remembered echo of curiosity. "I wasn't aware that Marluxia had been working on a pet project of his own."

[deadlybuttercup]

"Sure, if by 'pet project' you mean 'taking someone away from their world just because they've never met a talking flower before'."

Flowey's expression fell. "Look, I'm not one to ask around. I don't like to rely on much of anyone. But you've got to get me out of here. I can't take much more of this. He leaves me in here all day with nothing to do, and most of the time he's not even here. You....wouldn't leave a flower all alone to go crazy, would you...?"