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video (forward-dated to 1/24); but i can't sleep until this is done
[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![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
fibia! Feel free to action things up so you can drag this edgelord to hell and back lol he deserves it.]]
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.]]
no subject
Strangers aren't welcome in this house!
Selva, I...
Out!
...Fine! Wither away and die, just like everyone else!
Huh. That was familiar, too. Conversations with this skeleton were just always so hilarious, weren't they?]
Something tells me you'd go into it either way.
no subject
[That's the hilarious thing; he don't know him at all. But nonetheless, the grin stretches across Sans's features with an inexorable ruthlessness.]
You'd think a guy who loves his bro would care if he got put in the line of fire. You'd think, given how much he loves him, how cool he is, that he'd do something if his dear ol' bro walked right up to the thing that'd kill him with open arms.
[You'd think someone would do something, if he really loved him.]
You'd think.
Wouldn't you?
no subject
...You'd think, [he repeats quietly. He loves Selva. Except for when she'd thrown him out, they'd never been apart. If he'd known there was something that would kill her, how could he -- oh wait.] Fear's pretty stupid.
no subject
[This is a little revelation, apparently. It's hittin' close to home - closer than maybe he originally would'a bet on. Seems like somebody can relate. Seems like somebody's learning a thing or two that reminds 'em of their own good self.
Good.]
The word, I believe, is lazy.
no subject
...Even when he didn't put effort in, he still did something.
[Like with the windows, during that time Rage made everyone a little, uh, unstable.]
no subject
[Those kids he tries so hard to care for? Yeah, how're they all doing? Doing great? Feeling sassy? Feeling like maybe they don't wanna die all the time?
Ain't that laugh.]