*sans the skeleton (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
trombones) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
rackofbadcds2016-03-03 07:51 pm
trombones) wrote in rackofbadcds2016-03-03 07:51 pm
S P E E D R U N
Something was more than wrong. It was beyond the kid being busy. It was beyond not affording to care anymore. Somehow, it got worse. It was... strange. Systematic. Quick. Almost experimental.
This time, they moved too fast. Nearly any opportunity monsters had to run were brutally cut down. Alphys only barely got a handful of monsters to her lab. This time, Sans took Papyrus ahead of their moment and convinced him to go with them... sort of.
It was less convincing, more argument - mostly because Papyrus still thought he could talk to them. It took a lot of little white lies in the form of "I'm coming"s and "I'll be right behind you"s to get him into the small crowd packing itself in the elevator. It was easy to slip out after that. Sans murmured quiet goodbyes to himself as the door slid closed.
Beyond the obvious, he wasn't sure why he suddenly thought it would make a difference. The skeleton didn't remember everything about before. Like all the others, the past timeline was a blur and full of holes. Back then, though... back when he thought was trying to stop the world's end, he remembered the last blow. He remembered pain. Red. Then... a look. Something on their expression he'd never seen before.
Then it went black again. Now, he teleported to the top of the Core as fast as he could go. They were ahead of him and still moving too fast.
Dammit.
At this rate, they could get to ASGORE before he could.
This time, they moved too fast. Nearly any opportunity monsters had to run were brutally cut down. Alphys only barely got a handful of monsters to her lab. This time, Sans took Papyrus ahead of their moment and convinced him to go with them... sort of.
It was less convincing, more argument - mostly because Papyrus still thought he could talk to them. It took a lot of little white lies in the form of "I'm coming"s and "I'll be right behind you"s to get him into the small crowd packing itself in the elevator. It was easy to slip out after that. Sans murmured quiet goodbyes to himself as the door slid closed.
Beyond the obvious, he wasn't sure why he suddenly thought it would make a difference. The skeleton didn't remember everything about before. Like all the others, the past timeline was a blur and full of holes. Back then, though... back when he thought was trying to stop the world's end, he remembered the last blow. He remembered pain. Red. Then... a look. Something on their expression he'd never seen before.
Then it went black again. Now, he teleported to the top of the Core as fast as he could go. They were ahead of him and still moving too fast.
Dammit.
At this rate, they could get to ASGORE before he could.
no subject
It's hard to explain why, even to himself. It's like... He's felt this before, but slower, like he'd forgotten the tempo to a song he barely remembered. Alphys mentioned the same thing, saying she felt like she should have had more time to evacuate everyone. It was a rush enough as it was to modify his beautiful body; his true form, the one he wanted so much for so long, was hastily torn apart to make way for what was to be his greatest act of all.
NEO.
It was just supposed to be a show. A last-ditch effort to scare the human off. Alphys cried the entire time, begging him, telling him he didn't have to do this. She was the one who gave him a cannon that was actually functional, then told him not to use it. Stay in your default form. They can't hurt you like that. Please don't get hurt. If you go...
He knew he should have.
It's one thing to be practical, but another to be yourself. That... thing had torn through everything in its path with speeds none of them could ever imagine. If this was going to be the last stand, he was going to die feeling like himself. He was going to kill that thing feeling like himself. For once, he was going to feel like himself.
It still felt strange. Standing on two legs, cannon at the ready, instead of lying in wait to boast his way out of it like he'd originally planned.
The human needs to die. The human needs to--
A noise. He turns the cannon toward it and fires instinctively.
hope this is ok! you can control/make up whatever frisk/the player is doing too ftr
The door wasn't open nearly long enough for him to see who was inside. The next thing Sans knew, there was a flash of light and something burning through his sternum.
For a moment, Sans stands there. It takes a minute to realize there's smoke coming out of something under him, and he looks down at his chest. There's a hole. Literally. Smoking and perfectly round. It'd almost be cartoonish if there wasn't pieces of rib both hanging off him or clattering to the floor. Unconsciously, his hand slowly, shakily comes up to touch his sternum. It comes back red.
Wow. Is it a weird time to wonder if he should have knocked?
Sans' knees give way before he can think. He tries to catch himself, but his hand is already slick. The rest of him collapses to the ground. And, like he was meant to be a skeleton-shaped show curtain, his fall reveals somebody standing behind them. Something gleams in their hands. It's them.
no subject
All the anger he'd been trying to build inside of himself, to prepare himself to kill on sight, evaporated in an instant. Instead of not giving that awful, hideous creature a chance, Mettaton gets to watch in horror as his attack tears through bone. It feels so fast. So wrong.
He starts dashing toward the skeleton, no longer frozen in shock, when Sans collapses and reveals the shadow still standing behind him. The robot raises his arm again, preparing another blast--
The bang that echoes throughout the Core doesn't come from his cannon, but the cute little gun the child is holding. There are sparks shooting out of the holes in his chassis. He can feel his soul bottoming out, his body not strong enough to hold up against an actual fight.
"Ha... I guess..."
They don't even stop to watch him hit the ground before they start walking on to the back of the room.
no subject
Damn.
Somehow, the skeleton starts to pull himself up. It happened before. This time, though, he hasn't been fighting for the last hundred reload. It takes a moment to keep himself from slipping in the red and bits of himself that already started pooling around him, but somehow he gets to his feet.
And now, this time, he holds a hand out. His eye snaps a glowing blue, and he grabs them by their soul. With the last of his strength, he tries to toss them over the edge of the stage.
Sans can already feel his whole being start to fade. He can just barely think. Still, he this could go one of two ways. This would either kill them or at the very least ruin their "run". Either way's going to piss them off. They'll have to reload or reset and then... well.
Either way, he especially can't afford not to care here too.
no subject
He was useless. And now both of their deaths meant nothing.
He could feel himself falling apart when something blue shone out of the corner of his eye. Something... determined. The dying lights of his eyes followed the magic as best as they could, and...
He knows what he has to do.
The energy is still crackling in his arm. They aren't just a threat to monsters. He points it toward the glowing blue soul and releases it, one more shot of pure power overloading his body and exploding toward the child. That's going to be an issue. There's the sound of something shattering, a burning feeling traveling from his wrist into his shoulder, and pieces of what used to be his arm clatter to the floor.
There are some people I want to protect.
He can't see anything else, laying on his back the way he is, but the door opposite the two dying monsters doesn't open. Whether it was the shot or the throw, that thing doesn't seem to be walking anymore.
So Mettaton starts laughing.
no subject
Then an explosion of energy answered his question. It hits the human and slams them hard against the opposite wall. Whether they were dead or not, Sans can't tell, but he can definitely see their body slid limply off the wall and fall into the Core. Pit. Whatever, he can't think.
Sans heaves a shaky breath as he reaches to put a hand to his chest... until he remembers there's nothing to touch. Oh. Right. Hole. As if suddenly remembering he was dying, he falls backwards.
It's not like this was a permanent solution. If they reset, they might do this again - but Sans was used to that. If they reloaded, well. There's no guarantee Sans would remember what happens when he opens the door either.
Still. For a second there they'd won, right? Sans knew it didn't mean much. But if this became their judgement hall... welp. He guesses getting blasted by Mettaton a hundred times isn't much different than fighting through a hundred reloads. Just, you know. A lot more painful.
At least Papyrus made it this time.
Sans suddenly starts to chuckle with Mettaton. He's not really sure why.
"I think I... I think I missed the punchline."
no subject
It's utterly tragic. He's so overcome with grief he can't stop laughing. "That's... t-th-at's alright, darling... Hng... Hah-h-h-ha-- It was... HOLE-Y inappr-ropriate."
Honestly, Mettaton? You really want your last words to be a pun?
The leaking coolant, already hot from his systems shutting down, hit a spark from his ruined arm.
There's an explosion, then the sound of a soul breaking into dust.
Yes. Evidently, he did.
no subject
Sans laughs a little more genuinely this time. In it's own weird, dark way, it kind of helps. The skeleton tilts his head in the opposite direction.
"Hey, Papyrus. Did you hear..." Wait. "Whoops."
Yeah, Papyrus probably wouldn't want to hear a pun like that. He was probably still holed up in Alphys' old lab, waiting for what would never pass. If Alphys was watching, he hopes to hell she kept the cameras away from him. Still, it reminds Sans that his brother was still alive this time. That helps too.
Small victories, right?
The explosion hits. Sans was too close to Mettaton to begin with, and his body bursts into dust right along with his.
- - -
It's a reload.
Technically, Sans doesn't remember. There's no expression of a frustrated child to gauge it by right now. He already figured before that they were making a game out of going through the Underground as fast as they can so, well.
He's got a feeling they were probably pissed.
As he gets to the door, deja vu hits hard. He holds a hesitant hand out in front of it.
no subject
All he knows is this sense of purpose and dread. That he's going to scare this child, kill them, or die trying. That this is all happening too fast for his liking.
That was a strange thought, wasn't it? That the death of all your fans, your loved ones, should have been much slower than this? Not even the thought of them passing in their own time--just the thought that their careless murders would be set further apart than this.
He doesn't have to breathe, but he's doing it to get cool air into his systems, to calm down. There are footsteps ringing out into the dead silence of the Core and he raises his cannon, determined to end this before it can start.
...somehow, he knows not to fire. That thought was less strange. He doesn't know who's coming through that door; it could be anyone. It could be Burgerpants for all he knows and he could finally scold him into getting back to the shop because it's actually the safest place he knows and...
Whatever. Instead of a shot ringing through the air, silence remains. He's waiting.
icon not relevant i just want to use my new one at least once
> Let him open the door.
> Push him.
... That is, until he feels something solid kick him in the back. Sans stumbles. The automatic door slides opens when he gets close enough, and he hits the ground again.
Now it hits him. Figuratively, of course. He's been here before. This time, he rolls over just in time to catch the human raising their gun at him. Believe it or not, he scuttles away and stands up just barely in time.
it's so beautiful
Someone gets tosses into the room. Someone else is behind them, holding a gun--human, it's the human, they have a weapon-- and still attacking the other monster.
Kill them. Save everyone else. Protect them.
Blindly, he fires.
THANK YOU ALSO sorry for the quick tag!!
The human's attack misses, but he stands up just in time to take 89 points worth of overkill. There's a hole again. There's red again. This time, though, it's a little bit to the left. The hole in his chest takes out enough of his shoulder that his arm comes off.
The human stands there, tilting their head. Speaking of having an expression to go by... yeah. They look pissed. At the same time, though, they also seemed intrigued. Probably because they opted for something different this time.
Sans stumbles back towards Mettaton. At least he can just barely stand this time. He tries to force the strain out of his expression this time, and looks over his shoulder at the robot.
"Heh... how'd'ja know I'm left-handed?"