video (forward-dated to 1/24); but i can't sleep until this is done

[skelebro]

[The whole world is ending.

Or something like that, he's guessing. Everyone's panicking, everything's burning, and people are running around like Icecaps with their hats off. Chaotic is a word for it. Amusing is another. Either way, there's a skeleton on your video feeds now. He looks just like the skeleton a lot of you are bound to know, save for maybe the look in his eyesockets. It's not the typical world-weary apathy that's more reminiscent of good old Sans. It's more like there's just an emptiness, bleak and cold. But even that's pretty hard to gauge; it ain't like the reading of skeletal facial expressions is common talent down here. Though the, uh, rather sizable crack in his skull, netted just along the ridges of his left eyesocket, might be pretty indicative that this ain't the same Sans.

From the angle of the video, it's clear that he's standing outside the charred remains of Tranquility's temple. He's got plenty of Faith that the decor will be perfect for the tone he's going for.

He looks pretty happy.

There's something very liberating about having reached The End. A number swells, and then it increases. And the last piece slots into place, the last sliver of anything resembling remorse boiled off and burned away.

It's not long now. But he's got one last task ahead of him before, at least, he and his ilk find their much-awaited sleep.]

So I've got a question for ya.

[His tone is a neutral, rumbling drawl, utterly placid and philosophical.]

Did anybody here really buy that innocent, bumbling comedian shtick?

[He opens a hand. A thin white trickle of something hisses out between his phalanges, rattling to the ground in a grainy patter of falling motes. He waits until the last of it whispers to the ground, softly, before flicking the last of it from his fingertips and continuing.

It's dust. Three guesses as to the monster it belongs to.]

Well, what can I say? I'm here to bring forth some revelation. Anybody stupid enough to buy that little act of his...

[He grins, wide - wider. No, w i d e r. And his sockets go pitch-dark, until it's like staring into a pair of black holes. A glacial bite creeps over his tone, razor-thin, the edges filed off, almost like there's something jagged and seriffed curving along the tips of the words.]

Allow me to prove you wrong.

[There's a low, dark chuckle, and the feed cuts out. He's looking for a FIGHT all right, and he won't be sated until he gets it. So come down to Tranquility's in fifteen minutes if u want an ass kicking. "Sans" here is delivering, and will continue to do so right up until his time is up.]

[[ooc: responses will come from fibia! Feel free to action things up so you can drag this edgelord to hell and back lol he deserves it.]]

Comments

[fibia]

"You really don't know a thing about the guy I'm based off, huh?" His typical lazy, rumbling drawl might as well be a permanent fixture; even in the face of imminent death, or an opponent who's unnervingly unflappable, he's simply reached the absolute nadir of apathy. He don't care. He don't have the ability to care.

He's moving despite the blue magic fused around his SOUL. Doin' his best to make it look effortless, despite the fact that Sans is pretty sure he heard a couple cracks and breaks when he struck the ceiling. Bones are just real fragile, see. Don't take much pressure at all to send the marrow crackling.

"You think any of this matters?" Yukari's going outta his way to ensure that the double knows that it don't, but here's the flaw in that plan -

You can't make a big revelation outta something that you already know.

The blue magic's slowed his movements. So let's see how he likes a tall wave of jagged ulnas tearing out from the ground, streaking at him in alternating sine waves. If he jumps and maneuvers in just the right way, he'll be able to miss the worst of 'em. The poisonous creep of KARMA will suffuse his SOUL with an agonizing, sapping touch if he brushes up against any of 'em. But this ain't the ritualistic exchange of blows a FIGHT usually is Underground, and Sans is takin' more than a few liberties to ensure a win, if he can.

"You think this nihilist nothing is new? You got no clue, pal." He don't sound scornful. He sounds - bored, more than anything else. Trotting out lines of a script that don't rightly matter.

"Trouble is, you don't got much of a leg to stand on, do ya?" He winks, cheerfully, and hurls another gauntlet of bones. "You're in on this for the thrill of it. Or do ya expect me to think you give a damn about somebody you met all of once in your life?"

[fracturedbeauty]

Yukari certainly can't jump. The weight on his SOUL is just too damn heavy for that. Again, he has two options: Drop the Colourless Aura and use it as a shield, or take the brunt of the hit. He certainly doesn't like his options. With the last remaining bits of his effort in the Colourless Aura, he makes a dive for his sword, grabbing it as he rolls out of the way as much as he can from these things. Which, honestly isn't much. He drops his Colourless Aura as soon as he manages to sit back up and slam his sword into the ground, taking the strikes of most of the Ulnas. He doesn't even bother to raise a shield. Instead, he's going to do what he can his way.

Yukari gives an eerie, airy laugh under his breath.

"I don't care for anybody, so you don't have to go believing any of that now."

Okay, so that's slightly a lie. He has one person here he cares about, but it really isn't Sans. He just finds the little Original charming. He'd like to have battles to look forward to with him again.

But he doesn't know the way it works here, yet. That was Sans' dust the Double allowed to fall to the ground. And, with the way things are looking here, Yukari himself may not be alive much longer.

Using the sword as a conduit, he channels every last ounce of his energy into the Green Aura, releasing electricity as far and wide as he can. It may not... no, it probably won't be enough. That much he accepts. Consider this his If I'm going down, I'm sure as Hell going to take you with me repeal.

That's it. That's all of his energy spent. If the weight is still on his SOUL, he'll collapse to the ground. If not, he'll be hugging his sword for support, breathing heavy as he waits for death to come.

He gives a breath of a laugh under the severity of the situation. He supposes this is truly it for him. A shame it couldn't be more beautiful.

[fibia]

"Is this the ol' 'I'm too battle-wearied and cynical to give a crap about anybody anymore' spiel? 'Cause you can save it. I know your type well enough to know a lie when I hear one."

And he knows Sans's type, more importantly. He knows Sans, and he knows that Sans will say how much he can't afford not to care anymore when he reaches the End, the absolute last barrier between him and the annihilation of everything in creation. 'Cept he didn't exactly not care prior to then, did he? He cares 'cause he's a monster, 'cause he's inclined to care, and 'cause no matter how many times he'll toss up that oh, I'm just too bone-weary to bother anymore excuse - he's the one that went blipping through the city in search of a trio of kids who've wronged him personally, in more ways than one.

He clips Yukari more than a few times, must to his satisfaction. But something new swells in the blade he thrusts forward. Another bright, electrical burst sweeps across the swath of ground in a crackling wave.

It hurts, sure. Takes out a good chunk of his HP. Burns the clothes clinging to his bony frame, chars the sleeves and takes a few inches off his shorts. Definitely scorches the pink fuzz of his slippers, which - wow, rude? But without the purple sap of KARMA in his marrow, he can live to keep standing. The shock of it still releases his grasp on Yukari's SOUL, and Sans stumbles back several paces as he adjusts to the juddering reverberations of the aftershocks as they rattle in his bones, dropping him onto one knee.

Yukari's laughing as he grips his sword and slumps there, clinging to it for support.

Sans grins, coldly.

"Thanks for the workout, pal. But, uh, y'know the real nice thing about bone?"

He taps one side of his skull with the soft click of bone on bone.

"It's a shit conductor."

He raises his left hand.

A Blaster manifests, a pinprick of scalding white magic warming in its opened maw as it prepares to fire.

[fracturedbeauty]

Nothing to do with being battle-weary, that much he could assure. He's just never been inclined to care for people without a very good reason, or three. While he may not be heartless, he's been willing and ready to kill anyone and anything at a moment's notice, especially if it would just amuse him.

Curufin, though... Curufin had a special place in his heart. Something unusual to himself, to care that much for someone. And here he was, duking it out in battle in a match he couldn't win, just because it did, indeed, amuse him.

He managed to get his SOUL released, would you look at that. Talk about too little, too late. He quietly tests what might remain of his strength; a few hairline traces, but not much more. Certainly not enough to summon another Aura burst. He wearily looks up at the Clone as he makes his point.

"Hah... Yes, I suppose so..." He gives a weak smile to go along with it. He sees that Blaster, charging that burst. Those traces that remain of his own energy... even if it's enough to dodge, he's damned anyway, isn't he? He doesn't have the energy to stand, despite how much he's trying to will it right now. What good is dodging anyway? He wouldn't be able to keep doing it, especially not against someone like this, who visibly has a considerable amount of strength after that desperate attempt at a blast. He fights to summon just enough Aura to form a shield, but any remnants he manages to grab at quickly dissipate.

He gives a heavy breath. He supposes their might be one more trick up his sleeve. He has regrets about this, after all. To lose to something that has no passion is one of them. And the certain Elf he actually has managed to care about is another. He grits his teeth hard as he tries to pull himself into a crawl away from the blast. He's uncertain if it's enough to barely crawl a few places and collapse to the ground in the weak attempt to dodge the strength of that blast. But, it's worth a shot to make his final plea.

"Skeleton-chan, might you be willing to spare me?" His voice is laden with heavy breaths, as he lies on his back, looking up at the cave ceiling. Yet he somehow still manages a faint smile, closing his eyes, waiting for the attack to hit him or pass right by. "I've got a few things I need to do. I'm not quite ready to die yet. You win this battle."

At the very least, passionate or not, this Sans gave this battle everything. He supposes, at the very least, that is admirable enough. Yukari doesn't usually ask for his life to be spared, so he hopes the Skeleton can appreciate it for what it is.

"I surrender."

cw gore

[fibia]

The weaknesses associated with the Blasters is, of course, the fact that you can't pick 'em up and divert the direction of their firing patterns once they're set down. Yukari's got enough left in him to drag his meatsuit outta the way. Whaddaya know?

There's a high, grinding sound at the ridge of his left eyesocket, and his grin grits a little tighter at the scraping of bone against bone - things moving that should not be capable of moving. Solid pieces of bone grating against one another as the crack creeps up and up.

Some damage is permanent. But he's reached the End. It don't matter.

Nothing really...matters.

He cocks his skull to one side, smiling as though nothing is wrong. It's ticking away at his HP slowly, but - it ain't about to take him down just yet. Takes a bit more than that to rake him over the coals.

What Yukari says next is worth a sharp burst of laughter, utterly mirthless. Spare him. He surrenders. He's sorry, really.

Pity. Real, real pity that the guy must really have no clue what it is, to be dealing with a Sans. Sans-es, you see, ain't ones for MERCY. Not once you've crossed this line and made things difficult for 'em. And maybe he would'a let the guy go, once. Maybe he would'a seen no point in carrying things further.

But Sans has the capacity to do some real damage in him. His form of MERCY comes in the shape of a warm hug, outstretched arms, and a low, friendly rumble of c'mere, pal. Waits for you to be vulnerable. Waits for you to rush for him and drop your weapon. Then his ribs shoot out from his jacket, skewering you to the spot, washing him in sticky waves of crimson, as he snarls a cruel taunt in their dying ears.

That's his brand of MERCY.

So the cold peals of laughter break out over the charred battlefield.

"Then I guess you should'a thought about that before you rushed in, huh?"

He smiles, and keeps smiling.

Several long femurs shoot through Yukari's body with a series of meaty crunches, impaling him on the spot. At the very least, it'll be a quick way to go. Well - compared to some other ways.

See ya, chump.