[ Another one of Ozymandias’ rather long-winded explanations, this time about how he deduced the gender of the plant, dies in his throat the moment Mordred involuntarily flies face-first in his direction.
He is well aware that he has placed an inordinate amount of unfair blame, mainly born to his own maligned pride, in her direction. This emotional state of his shows little sign of improving right when their faces smack together, not quite landing on the correct target just yet. Of course, this doesn’t hurt either of them by any stretch of the imagination, but it still annoys him. And, it probably annoys her as well.
In a reflexive response, he reaches out to grab her by the shoulder. And if Mordred doesn't manage to swat him away, his grip will be firm. ]
Stay still. [ Ozymandias is using his best commanding tone… while full well knowing that it’s probably not going to work on her. ]
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He is well aware that he has placed an inordinate amount of unfair blame, mainly born to his own maligned pride, in her direction. This emotional state of his shows little sign of improving right when their faces smack together, not quite landing on the correct target just yet. Of course, this doesn’t hurt either of them by any stretch of the imagination, but it still annoys him. And, it probably annoys her as well.
In a reflexive response, he reaches out to grab her by the shoulder. And if Mordred doesn't manage to swat him away, his grip will be firm. ]
Stay still. [ Ozymandias is using his best commanding tone… while full well knowing that it’s probably not going to work on her. ]