Work Text:
Months ago, somewhere in Mozelle's Humble Castle, the princess herself worked tirelessly on repairing a very close friend of hers. She'd lost track of time. All she knew in that respect was it was long past tea time, but in this moment, she didn't care.
This took all the priority in the world.
Soldering, screwing, making sure every wire was connected to the right points, then doubly sure, then triply sure, then fixing as much of the plastic casing as she could...
Once she was certain she'd covered every end possible, and that she knew entirely too much about how Melanie's inner components went together, the little demon powered her up. The monitor turned on with a buzz, slowly but surely fading into those familiar pink tones. She waited with bated breath as Melanie's face took form on the screen.
Every single one of the robotic rabbit's senses was coming back to her at once. She felt the hard surface she was laid down on. She saw the dull-colored ceiling above her, picked up the ever-present smell of sweets, tasted the slightly smoky air of hell, heard the slight buzz her own screen made combined with the light piano melody in some distant room...
...All at once, to the point that she couldn't parse where she was or what she was laying on or how she was even able to sense all of this when the last thing she remembered was every single wire in her neck snapping, as that parasite tore her head from her body.
It was too much, just too much at once... until her eyes finally found focus. A face. A familiar one, at that.
Mozelle opened her arms, her expression holding all the care those beady eyes could muster.
Melanie finally started to process where she was as the sensory overload wore off... the workbenches, the smell of baked goods and fruit, the Toreador March that always seemed to be playing from somewhere... Given that she herself was on one of these workbenches, it wasn't hard for her to connect the dots on what happened.
Her breathing had gotten so fast and she hadn't even noticed.
Did she need to breathe?
The bunny fell into the smaller girl's embrace, holding on for dearly regained life. She had questions, none of them nearly coherent enough in her mind to say them aloud. All she could muster were three words...
"M-My neck hurts..."
Mozelle kept her hold on her friend for as long as she needed to. Once Melanie had calmed down, she was going to be treated to a very late, quiet tea party.