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meatbrained) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
dankmemes2016-09-19 06:40 pm
meatbrained) wrote in dankmemes2016-09-19 06:40 pm
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how it works:
i. post a comment with the characters you play.
ii. go around and prompt other players with a 5 + 1 prompt (e.g. "Five times Hope said sorry and one time he didn't")
iii. write a fic for the prompts people leave you!
iv. enjoy your fic? we hope?
...and one he didn't.
'Course, Sans has no clue, really. It could be a terrible day out. It could be storming, or raining, or the clouds could be blotting out the sun. It could be an apocalyptically terrible day out. He wouldn't know. They don't get the sun down here, Underground.
He's been swigging ketchup straight from the bottle for the past few hours. Not the magic stuff. Not the stuff that dissolves right on entry. No, the stuff that sits thick and heavy inside him, so he knows that when they land that hit, which they will, because he can't keep dodging forever, it'll split him open like overripe, rotting fruit, and the red will come spilling out, and the look on their face...
Well, he always did wanna leave 'em laughing. Pity no one's left to enjoy the joke. Just an old, sad king, a psychopathic flower, and the kid that's carved swathes through the Underground, eliminating every monster in their way. Every single one.
Undyne stopped 'em for a bit, but she really only slowed 'em down in the long run. Killed 'em plenty of times, he's pretty sure, he was watchin' the feeds like everyone, but after a while, well...eventually the kid wises up. Memorizes the patterns. Knows how to move and dodge in precisely the right way.
They sound of their footsteps over golden tile is the dirge that will sing him to sleep. Sans grins wide at them as they draw near, the knife in their hand shining cherry-bright, as though soaked with a blood that doesn't exist. Maybe with their own. He's got no clue.
He could be goin' with all the others. He could be evacuating. But he knows how things boil down here. He knows that there won't be anything left to evacuate, if this kid keeps pushing on like they do. LV 19, and bristling on the edge of an asymptote he cannot allow them to cross, but knows they will. They will because they can. They will because they think the should. Because they feel they have to, simply because the option is there.
They will because they're curious. Because they are cruel, maybe. Their face is as blank as ever.
"Heya," he says easily, as if greeting an old friend. In many ways, he is. He's got that photograph sequestered in a drawer somewhere. He knows what they did. What they took away. "You've been busy, huh?"
The hall is silent but for the syncopation of the human's breathing.
"So," says Sans with false cheer, "I've got a question for ya. Do you think that even the worst person can change...? That anyone can be a good person, if they just try?"
The kid steps forward, short, brusque, deliberate.
Sans laughs.
"All right. Well, here's a better question."
His eyesockets open to emptiness, a bleak, hollow blankness that glares into the kid's LOVE-filled SOUL.
"Do you wanna have a bad time? 'Cause if you take another step forward...you are REALLY not gonna like what happens next."
The human steps forward. They don't expect this from him, they think. He's gotta be all bluff, right? Just a harmless funnybones, heh.
Yep. He sure is a funny guy.
Sorry, old lady. This is why I never make promises.
Maybe he says that part aloud. Doesn't really matter in the end.
Because that's when the kid's world detonates.
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Sans bb child ;;
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