►A1) [It's not very long at all before Undyne gets frustrated enough with having been yanked into some kind of weird technicolor dreamscape to pull a spear, but when she does she doesn't get what she expected – it comes too gradually, and when she closes her hand around it she can feel it flickering in and out of existence as clearly as she can see it.
Her scaly lips pull back from her fangs in a disapproving, baffled sneer. She drops it (it falls slowly, glitching midair, and then it disappears) and abruptly whips around, as if expecting to catch someone by surprise.]
Hey! Hey!!! Who's messing with my spears?? Who's looking to get their butt kicked?!
►B1) [Undyne is sitting with her chin on one hand and a drink in the other, looking restless and annoyed – which isn't an unusual look for her. This kind of schmoozing is not what she became a musician for, and although this is her first time at an event like this she's already getting impatient with it. She's not here to make friends, she's here to win. Don't talk to her, you'll probably regret it.]
►B2) [The weird stuff that keeps happening is making her a different kind of restless altogether, though. She tries to pretend she doesn't notice it at first, because who flips out over weird cold patches, but it gets harder and harder as the night goes on, and eventually, when she looks down to find her glass a good foot or so from where she knows she put it down, she decides she's had enough. She's on her feet in seconds, grabbing whatever unfortunate individual is walking past by the arm and yanking them towards her.]
Hey! You! Are you messing with my drink?!
►B3) [By the time she remembers, she's already had enough of all of this – she's already getting up to leave when the memory distracts her: tomatoes smeared disastrously across a kitchen counter. Spaghetti, everywhere. Fire, everywhere; the memory of a wild, exultant pride that even with so much of herself suppressed she knows all too well, and... the sense that this is somehow important, that she remembers this because it changed something... Why??
She stops in the middle of the room, her hands clenching into fists. Trying to place the memory makes her head hurt, and it – all of this – is pissing her off. With a snarl of frustration that sounds mostly like 'ngahh', she upturns the nearest table and storms towards the exit.]
UNDYNE | UNDERTALE
Her scaly lips pull back from her fangs in a disapproving, baffled sneer. She drops it (it falls slowly, glitching midair, and then it disappears) and abruptly whips around, as if expecting to catch someone by surprise.]
Hey! Hey!!! Who's messing with my spears?? Who's looking to get their butt kicked?!
►B1) [Undyne is sitting with her chin on one hand and a drink in the other, looking restless and annoyed – which isn't an unusual look for her. This kind of schmoozing is not what she became a musician for, and although this is her first time at an event like this she's already getting impatient with it. She's not here to make friends, she's here to win. Don't talk to her, you'll probably regret it.]
►B2) [The weird stuff that keeps happening is making her a different kind of restless altogether, though. She tries to pretend she doesn't notice it at first, because who flips out over weird cold patches, but it gets harder and harder as the night goes on, and eventually, when she looks down to find her glass a good foot or so from where she knows she put it down, she decides she's had enough. She's on her feet in seconds, grabbing whatever unfortunate individual is walking past by the arm and yanking them towards her.]
Hey! You! Are you messing with my drink?!
►B3) [By the time she remembers, she's already had enough of all of this – she's already getting up to leave when the memory distracts her: tomatoes smeared disastrously across a kitchen counter. Spaghetti, everywhere. Fire, everywhere; the memory of a wild, exultant pride that even with so much of herself suppressed she knows all too well, and... the sense that this is somehow important, that she remembers this because it changed something... Why??
She stops in the middle of the room, her hands clenching into fists. Trying to place the memory makes her head hurt, and it – all of this – is pissing her off. With a snarl of frustration that sounds mostly like 'ngahh', she upturns the nearest table and storms towards the exit.]
__________________________
(For yr reference: here is a little doodle of how human Undyne looks here!)