Chapter Text
You pour the amount of cream you like into your coffee while leaning on the kitchen counter, eyes on the screen. The lady has a new wrinkle added to her bigass forehead.
“Reports say the item stolen was the V.O.I.D., a power unit that was recently revealed to the public, not even five days ago.”
Man, if she weren’t such a suck up to those bastards, those faux grimaces wouldn’t have such an effect on her already ugly mug.
The news keeps droning on and on about its functions, like how it can theoretically power five large cities max as a replacement for fossil fuels, nuclear energy, etc., reviewing them for the sake of the few folks who’re unaware. A redundant action but you guess those dickheads paid a high price to every news station out there to keep talking about the damn thing. Many high executives in greedy corporations and stupid ‘activists’ have been coming out of the woodwork trying to argue about the ‘cons’ V.O.I.D. would bring, and are getting a lot of heat for their attempts at retaliation against the Foundation.
It’s fun adding fuel to the fire.
You gulp the rest of your coffee before placing the empty cup in the sink for a later rinse and head for your bedroom. There, you can still hear the TV as you pick out your outfit.
“Here we have the chief of the Foundation with us today, Mr. Everyman. A pleasure to meet you, sir.”
“The pleasure’s all mine, Ms. Clouse.”
Ugh. Ew. You can hear the shifty smile from that motherfucker.
“Please tell us, what’s your next plan of action against this anonymous thief?”
“Well, to tell you the truth, my team and I are currently reviewing the footage we’ve caught on our newly updated cameras.”
Your ears perked up from that.
“You see, what we found was quite interesting. According to the footage, the perpetrator can use magic, specifically, illusions. And without any use of our tech.”
Ah. Shit.
“Like, a monster? A literal monster from within the Barrier?”
“Hard to believe, huh?”
“A little. But that does heavily imply that a monster somehow escaped from the Barrier, the one under your watch.”
“Yes. A failure on our part. I apologize on behalf of the Foundation. But do not concern yourselves too much. Know that we are working our utmost best on this case and will find the perpetrator before it can cause any possible harm to the citizens of Ebott City. Do keep out of the outskirts of the city, as that’s where the monster was last seen from our cameras.”
Double shit.
“Thank you, sir, for the reassurance and warning. But that does beg the question, why steal the V.O.I.D. in the first place? And the other past items, too!”
“I’m afraid I don’t know the answer to that either.”
“Well, in any case, it turns out there’s a possible monster, a literal one from behind the Barrier, prowling around the outskirts of Ebott City. We don’t know if it’s dangerous or not, so do not engage if you come across it. You folks back home, stay safe, ok? And watch over your family and neighbors. Back to you, Carly.”
The rest of the news didn’t reach your ears as you stood there for a moment, half-naked, your brain chewing over what you’ve just heard.
Mmm, Dings is not gonna like this.
“What the fuck, Vixen!”
“Bruh, how was I supposed to know they updated their cameras?” You raised a brow at the pacing red-faced geezer as you went for another bite of your burger.
“Wha— no!” He stops in his tracks to effectively shout at you, “I’m not talking ‘bout that! There’s a difference between ignorance and utter stupidity! I’m talking ‘bout you getting Grillby’s after that damn reveal on the news! Do ya not have a single instinct in self-preservation?!”
Ah, shit. His words are slurring a bit. “Dings, you need to chill.” You roll your eyes, an ear flicking with annoyance, before licking ketchup off your thumb. “And use your noggin for a moment. Do you really think it’s a smart idea to suddenly go M.I.A. right after that? The workers and I are basically on a first-name basis. They would’ve put two-n-two together.”
The geezer responds by sharply exhaling through his nostrils, his glower etched deeper upon his pale face as he concedes to your valid points. “It’s still reckless.”
“Never said it wasn’t,” You shrug, a cheeky smile spreading on your lips as Dings gives you an even deeper scowl. He's gonna get more wrinkles than he already has. “Besides, I’m too sneaky for those idiots. I haven't been caught in the past two decades since I came to the surface.”
“Yet,” he sharply corrects with narrowed eyes. “You haven't been caught yet. The situation has drastically changed, Vixen. Those bastards are now aware that you're a monster with fucking illusion magic. If we aren't careful and lag behind, then they’ll soon figure out you can shapeshift as well as your other abilities and then eventually capture you and shove you back behind the barrier or worse. All of this, our revenge, would be for nothing.”
Well, when the geezer puts it like that, the situation is a lot more grim than you initially thought. Like, yeah, you know being caught is pretty much a death sentence, because something worse is most definitely gonna happen to you, if those bastards get their grubby hands on you (those cells are pretty damning). And your and Dings’s revenge against the Foundation will die a short, pathetic death before either of you could do anything. Not to mention the possible irl Among Us-Hunger Games fusion shit surrounding the people of Ebott if they figure out you can shapeshift, too (again, those cells are pretty damning).
But you have faith in your abilities and skills to avoid that worst scenario and you'd rather not ponder on the what-ifs too much, especially the ones that can fuck you over and your psyche. The ultimate nemesis to confidence is overthinking after all.
So, you reply with a nonchalant shrug, your tail resuming its swaying as you say, “Alright, then we’ll look behind our shoulders a little more and make sure Murthy’s Law doesn't come for our asses.” Then, before you take a sip from your soda cup, you mutter, “Not that it will.”
Dings throws his hands up into the air, frustrated by your lack of urgency as he returns to his pacing.
“Damn that bastard, stealing my inventions, my reputation, my mannerisms, and now you’re tryin’ to come after Vixen, huh? Heheh, huge mistake, ya fuckin’ scumbag—”
You watch him pace a little more while you finish the rest of your meal before deciding to shift the conversation to something less stressful. “So~ whatcha gonna do with the V.O.I.D.?”
Dings perks up from the mention of his so-called ‘most prized invention’ —and to be fair, it is—, as a giddy smirk crosses his lips. “I’m going to use it to power my M.U.G. machine.”
Your tail paused in its lazy swings as you’re a little surprised. “Was that what you’ve been working on for the past few months? You’ve seriously taken my idea and run with it?”
“It was a very intriguing idea,” He shrugs with a slight, cheeky smile.
“And you say I have bad impulse control,” You playfully retort as you clean up the table. There are light tapping sounds beyond the room.
“You do.”
You shot a crinkled ball of wrapper at his forehead, causing him to cry out with indignation.
“Why you—”
The nearest door slides open with an audible whirl, and out comes a pair of kids with one of them dragging the other along.
“Good Morning, Papa! Vixen!” Papy beams, waving an enthusiastic hand at you and Dings as he waddles over. He looks ready for the day in his skeleton onesies.
“mornin’,” Sans yawns, contrasting his brother with his lethargy, messy bedhead, and everything.
“Morning, boys~” The geezer’s demeanor immediately changed as he pivoted on his feet and crouched down to hug them both, a very soft smile on his expression. Papy giggles with little ‘nyeh, hehs’, gladly returning the embrace while Sans lazily grins and pats Dings on his shoulder blade. Then his gaze drifts to you, where you’re sitting on the table with the remaining Grillby's bags.
You watch with hidden fondness as Sans’s eyes visibly lit up with excitement, his exhaustion seemingly melted away, before he turns to Papy and says, “paps, grillby's for breakfast!”
Papy dramatically gasps before cheering a loud, “YEAH!” with his little fists in the air.
After the geezer brought the boys over to the table and sat them down, you pushed the bags over for them to dig in. Sans immediately grabs almost all of the ketchup packets before ripping and squeezing all of them onto his burger and fries. The smell of ketchup became more potent.
“Ewwwww, Sans!” Papy pouts at his brother, having watched the whole spectacle. Dings was pouring some salt over the little guy’s fries.
“heh, sorry, bro,” Sans grins, his eyes glinting with mischief. You feel your smile matching his grin as the tip of your tail sways with anticipation. “i’ll slow down so you can ‘ketch-up’.”
“Ughhhhhhhhhhh, Sans!” he dramatically groans, leaning against Ding’s arm.
“ah, sorry again,” the kid’s grin stretches, eyes crease into cresents. The ketchup stains around his mouth make him appear like an adorable cannibal. “give me some ‘thyme’ and i’ll ‘mustard’ up a better response for you.”
“You Did Two Puns That Time!” Papy points an accusing finger— er, French fry— at his brother. “And None Of Them Were Any Good!”
“aw,” Sans slumps with feigned disappointment, “but i thought i was pretty well ‘seasoned’ in the arts of puns.”
“Stop It, Sans!” Now he’s playfully batting at Sans by the upper arm, whose grin keeps growing.
“Papy,” You interrupt the play fighting, gaining the kids’ attention. “What’s the big ‘dill’?”
“No! Not You, Too!” Papy cries out, looking betrayed, utterly distraught by the current circumstances he’s in. You and Sans are struggling to stifle your guys’ laughter.
“Vixen,” Dings interjects, eyes squinted at you with intention.
“Mmm?” You shoot him your best innocent smile as if you’re not internally cackling at Papy’s stupid face. In the corner of your eye, you see that Sans and Papy are looking between you two, with the latter having a hopeful look as he stares at his dad.
“Stop en’curry’aging the situation.”
The table explodes.
“NYEEEEEEEEEEEEEH!” Papy looks up to the ceiling in utter despair, feeling the brunt of his dad’s betrayal. Well, you think anyway. You’re too busy cackling along with Sans, tears blurring your vision where they form in the corners of your eyes. Dings looks ridiculously proud of himself. “This Is Bullying! You’re All Ganging Up On Me!”
That just causes you and Sans to switch into wheezing instead, both of you holding your respective stomachs as you try not to fall out of your seats. Oh fuck, your sides, they hurt so much.
Eventually, things calm down and the boys fully immerse themselves to eating their food while some topics pop up here and there. Papy was slightly huffy as he slurped his milkshake, but considering you’ve bought it for him, you’re sure he’s forgiven your misdeeds of being ‘punny’ a moment ago. Heh.
Your gaze then trails over to Dings, who’s watching his sons with blatant fondness. His hands are holding his cheeks, which are slightly flushed, the scars around his eyes not tainting the content look as he has such a dopey grin on his face. It’s disgusting.
If someone had told the younger you that Dings would become such a softy of a dad in the future, you would’ve laughed at their lying face before lying back at them that the earth is flat, just to piss them off. Now, though, it’s hard to think this geezer is the same one who has such a boner for revenge against the Foundation after what they did to him. To you.
Huh. Actually, you probably should’ve seen the signs earlier. The geezer can be quite the papa bear when the situation calls for it.
Simply put, Dings looks happy. Much happier than before.
You wonder how long that would last.
…
Welp, time to reel that back in before someone notices. You quipped.
Dings then locks eyes with you, tilting his head just so in silent query. Ah.
“When’re you gonna power up your M.U.G machine?”
A grin immediately splits on his lips.
The V.O.I.D. is a chonky thingamajig. Practically a giant battery with extra parts, such as the clear, ichor-smoky-esque liquid slushing inside the container.
And Dings is struggling to pull it over to his M.U.G. machine, much less able to pick it up, even with the help of his magic hands.
Of course, you respond accordingly to the situation in front of you. And that’s to point and laugh at the struggling dumbass.
“Yeah, yeah, laugh it up,” The geezer groused, his cheeks dusted with red where he slouched over in defeat before straightening up and shooting you an irked glare. “Now are you going to help me or not?”
You choke back a snicker as you try to sober up to give a coherent response. You fail as you bend over, hands on your knees, as you laugh again.
“Sorry, Papa,” Papy gives Dings a sheepish smile, “I Would Help If I Could. But Your Thing Looks Fragile, And I Don’t Want To Accidentally Break It.
“same here,” Sans lazily held up a hand where he sat on the floor, legs criss-crossed. “‘cept i’m ‘bone-tired’ from yesterday’s tests.”
“Saaans,” Papy pouts at his brother, little arms crossed for maximum seriousness.
“heh, my bad,” Sans just shrugs with an easy smile.
“O-ok, ok,” You catch your breath, an amused grin still itched on your lips as you wipe your tears away, and head over to Dings. “I’ll come and help.”
A snap of your fingers, and your magic whirls to life as it engulfs your body with electric yellow smoke. Then it dissipates, revealing a bulky wolf monster with black fur standing on his hunched legs in your place. An old client of yours back when you were stuck behind the Barrier. You briefly wonder how the big fella is doing before carefully picking up the V.O.I.D. and holding it on your beefcake of a shoulder.
“Alright, where do I insert this big boy?” You asked, your voice coming out low and gruff.
“Yes, I—” Dings abruptly stops his sentence as he slowly turns to you with a flat look of disappointment. Some of his magic hands join in to make it very clear how done he is with you as a pair is on his hips.
You just give him a lop-sided grin, the fangs peeking out.
The geezer quietly inhales before releasing it as he mumbles under his breath, “Why do I even bother?” and then returns to the task at hand and gestures to an open space on the left side of his M.U.G. machine. “Put it here, please.”
You do so as you’re told, carefully handling it in. Then you step a good distance away, changing back to your original form as Dings shuts the space and hurries over to the control panels on the machine with visible vigor.
“Booting up the system,” He states to himself, eyes laser-focused on his machine now. “26%...39%...51%...”
Multiple hands fly around his vicinity as some are stationed at the buttons, some are checking around the rest of the machine for any possible error, and come hold clipboards to scribble down notes.
“78%...92%...99%... yes! Ok—” Dings is fully locked in now as his eyes dart around the panels, muttering under his breath you have no comprehension of, regulating the necessary steps he must take, checking everything, and double-checking again to triple-checking and so on. You and the boys watch him for a few more minutes before he finally deems whatever science he did is perfect and whirls around to you guys with a giddy grin. “The machine successfully became compatible with the V.O.I.D.!”
“Wowie! You Did It, Papa!” Papy enthusiastically claps with a beaming smile, staying put where he is. He knows better than to approach a potentially dangerous area, no matter if the first phase was successful.
“congrats, dad,” Sans’s response was predictably more subdued than his brother but it’s obvious he’s just as enthused as Papy. Probably more judging by how much intrigue and excitement sparkles in his eyes.
“I’m glad the operation went well for your babies,” You clap your hands with a smirk.
“Thank you, I—” Dings’s beaming face immediately falls to a deadpan as you give him a shit-eating grin. “Can you not?”
“Mmm, nah~”
An exasperated sigh escapes from the geezer before he gathers his earlier excitement and turns back to the control panel, asking, “So, what do you think? Shall I bring our guest over to our current timeline and place? Or shall I step inside and teleport to another universe?”
Huh. I would’ve figured he’d jumped right into traveling to another world instead of asking for our opinions here. You quietly mused.
“uh, maybe bring someone over here?” Sans was the first to pipe up, visibly reeling back his zeal in favor of caution. “wha’ if you get stuck somewhere on the other side?”
“Hmm, excellent foresight, Sans,” Dings praises him with obvious pride in his voice.
And if our visitor is less than friendly, then Dings and I (Vixen and I) will take care of them. You and Dings think.
“Ok, Since We’re Going To Have A Guest Over,” Papy jumps into the conversation with a determined smile, little fists on his hips. “Then We Have To Prepare To Welcome Them Properly! Which Means Snacks And Drinks!”
“huh, you make a good point bro,” Sans nods in agreement. “don’t wanna make them uncomfortable here.”
“Nyeh Heh! Yeah! Which Means You,” Papy then points a finger at you with the sternest expression he can muster on. You stifle your grin. “Have To Be On Your Best Behavior To Our Guest And Not Tick, Or Scare Them Off!”
You salute to him, sagely replying with, “I solemnly swear to do my best not to traumatize them too much.”
Papy frowns, slightly drooping from your unsatisfying answer, before Sans leans over and says, “i think that’s the best you’re gonna get from em’, bro.”
He sighs in defeat, nodding with acknowledgement. Then he grabs both your and Sans’s hands— you hold back a flinch— and leads you guys to the kitchen. “Alright! The Great Papyrus, His Sansational Brother, and Their Clever Friend Shall Begin Our Culinary Grandeur!”
“...did you just made a pun—”
“Bye, Papa! Please Be Careful! I Love You!”
“Bye~! I love you, too~ Have fun, you three!”
And then you and the boys were out of the room.
“So What Kind Of Snacks Should We Make For Our Visitor?” Papy asks as he stands on the island counter, his hands on his hips. He looks like he's ready to fight god.
“Well, usually I make and bring tea to them,” You idly give your input where you lean your back against the sink.
“Wait,” Papy puts his brain cells to work as his expression scrunched up in concentration before his eyes widen and turn to point at you. “You Had Guests Come Over To Your Place Before? You?!”
A snort is heard from behind him and it didn't take a genius to know it came from Sans. Little shit.
You slowly blink at the bewildered kid in front of you before plainly answering with, “Yes.”
You don't tell him your ‘guests’ were targets your old clients commissioned you to assassinate, nor do you tell about the ‘guests’ that intruded into your old apartment and you made them meet your sickles.
“How about gingersnaps?” You suggest, “It’s what I usually make for guests.”
“any reason why?” Sans shoots you a skeptical look after stepping around Papy and to where the fridge is.
They’re easy to use to mislead your targets. “I just like them,” You idly shrug as you push yourself off the sink counter and to the pantry where all the food ingredients are. “They’re fun to eat.”
“Ok, Gingersnaps It Is!” Papy shouts, jumping down the counter and pads over after you. “What Is That Anyway?”
“It’s a spiced cookie using ginger, cinnamon, cloves,” Your tail swishes behind you as you open the pantry and scan for, “Flour, sugar, hmmm, uh, shortening, molasses, baking soda, and, uh, let’s see, eggs. Sans, get the eggs, baking tray, and parchment paper. Papy, get some big bowls, the measuring cup and spoons, and a spatula.”
“Roger That!”
“got it.”
Finding the required tools for this recipe was a little difficult considering the fact that Dings place many of his science shit in here. You’re convinced he got drunk again one night and decided to be a hoarding goblin for shits and giggles. Making the cookies was easy enough, though, with Sans and his telekinesis multitasking certain steps, and Papy using his strength to easily knead the dough and press the small portions to the baking sheet. You did everything else needed and in between while pulling some fun pranks here and there. Like getting the boys to try a large spoonful of cinnamon. The three of you sneezed during the rest of the baking process, the powder staining almost every surface in the kitchen.
“things really ‘spice’ up, huh?”
“Shut!”
Figuring that's a future them problem, you and the kids get started on making the tea instead after putting the cookies in the oven. The chosen tea brand to use was Golden Flower.
“isn’t that tha’ florist guy’s favorite?” Sans asks with a raised brow as he and Papy watch you pour the steaming hot water into the teapot. Your nose twitches from the subtle sweetness emitting within the ceramic.
“It’s alright, Sans,” You give him your best winning smile as you place the rest of the tea set onto a dissecting pan improv into a food tray because apparently, Dings has a tea set but not the fucking tray for it. “You can just say he’s Dings’s secret lover.”
While Sans is dying in the background from your brilliant sense of humor, Papy spoke up. “I Think It’s Nice That Papa Bought It From Mister Florist Man!”
“p-paps,” Sans wheeze out from where he’s trying to sober up while leaning against the counter. “dad doesn’t know how to do online shopping.”
You walk past the silent Papy to one of the cupboards and grab the largest plate you can find.
“Vixen?”
Then you pass by the kid again, striding over to the oven.
“Vixen.”
You place the plate on the counter near it before putting on oven gloves, readying to pull out the cookies.
“You Stole It, Didn’t You?”
The poster said ‘Buy one, get one Free!!’ on the display window so, technically, you didn’t steal anything. Especially not when the big guy was aware of the whole thing. “You know I’m not into flowers, Papy.”
“aw, don’t worry, ‘bud.’ you’ll ‘grow’ to love ‘em.”
“Sans!”
You chuckle. “Double whammy.”
“We’re Changing The Subject!” Papy shouts as he stomps his little feet on the counter. “That Wasn’t A Straight Answer, Vixen.”
A loud BEEP resounds in the kitchen, indicating the gingersnaps are done. You open the oven door, getting blasted by the wave of heat as you grab the tray of baked goods.
“Vixen, Answer The Question!”
You respond accordingly and ignore the increasingly fuming kid as you assemble all the cookies onto the plate. Now let’s see here~
“paps, look,” Sans whispered to his brother, “don’t you think the tip of their tail—”
At the mention of your tail, it immediately froze in its swings.
“— was wagging a little too fast?”
“Oi.” You whirl around, tail hidden behind you as you narrowed your eyes at the grinning little shit. “Don’t you read me like that.”
“so you admit it.”
You groan, turning back to the cookies so the boys don’t see the corners of your lips twitching with amusement.
“Vixen, You Shouldn’t Steal.” You don’t need to turn around to know Papy is wearing a stern expression while his arms are crossed.
“Kid, I’m a mercenary,” You reply with a roll of your eyes as you pivot on your feet and step over to the island counter where the kids are. “It’s part of the job description.”
“Yeah, But You’re Not Ordered To Go After His Flower Stuff,” Papy puffs his cheeks at you with a frown. “And Mister Florist Man Is A Good Guy. He’s Not Part Of The Foundation Anymore.”
“paps does have a good point, vix,” Sans nods as he shrugs a shoulder. “after finding out the truth, he ‘up-rooted’ the hell outta there.”
“Sans.”
“that’s my name. don’t wear it out.”
“Sans!”
“Don’t care~” You interrupt the boys’ playful bickering by shoving the plate of gingersnaps into Papy’s little hands before grabbing the tea set. “He’s a convenient punching bag and I’m not passing that opportunity.”
“You’re An Asshole,” Papy remarks when he’s being levitated off the counter and onto the floor by Sans’s help.
“Thanks.”
“Not A Compliment.”
You just smirk before pushing one of the doors open—
Your body immediately stills, your ears flickering at a high whining, whirling sound—
BOOM!
The building shook. The lights flicker. Then the sound of the alarm pierces through the air.
Of course, something goes wrong. You click your tongue.
Suppressing the urge to punt Sans into the wall when he grabbed your hand, he teleports you and Papyrus just outside the room where Dings and his machine are in. Smart.
The scent of smoke and ozone hit your nose where it escaped under the heavy door. Unfortunate that the room before you is soundproof, not that you’ll be able to hear much aside from this annoying alarm.
Just as that thought crosses your mind, that screeching beeping abruptly cuts off, followed by the lights. All that's missing is that little music box jingle and Freddy’s face flashing erratically in the dark. Ehh, you’ll just have to settle on the kids’ bright, pale eyes.
Then the lights return— well, that was short-lived— practically flashbanging you and the kids. Ow. Ok. The backup generator is on now.
Pulling your wrist away from Sans's nervous grip, you give him the improv tea set tray. With no hindrance on you, your appearance changes into a human with little fanfare.
“Stay behind me,” you whisper.
With light steps, you near the heavy door entrance to the room…before kicking it open with a loud BANG, announcing, “We’re baaaack—!”
Only to get skewered in the head.
Your body follows the harsh trajectory of the attack, the weapon exploding a good chunk of your head, painting the metal walls behind you red and flesh. There, your bloodied body momentarily wobbles where it stands before falling limp onto the floor with a discernable SPLAT.
…
“papyrus, what the fuck?!”
“oh my stars…”
“YOU IMBECILE! LOOK WHAT YOU’VE DONE!”
“THE IDIOT SHOULDN’T HAVE DONE THAT!”
“OH MY GOSH! HOW DO WE FIX THIS?!”
“FUNNY HOW A LOUD ENTRANCE STARTLED YOU WHEN YOU INSIST ON DOING THE SAME THING ON THE REGULAR!”
“I WAS NOT STARTLED!”
“yes, ya were, paps!”
“heh, that entrance certainly blew someone’s ‘head off,’ huh?”
“DON’T CALL ME THAT—!”
“Not Now, Mars…”
“boss! whateva! ya killed a human!”
“MISTER HUMAN, SIR, ON BEHALF OF MY FRIEND, I APOLOGIZ—”
“DON’T APOLOGIZE FOR ME, YOU IDIOT!”
“Uh…”
“how much can we bribe ya ta not call the cops on ‘r asses?”
“MUTT, DO NOT—!”
“welp, i say ‘it was nice knowin’ you guys’ but i’d be lyin.’”
“CARROT!”
“what?! honesty’s a virtue or whatever!”
“PAPYRUS!”
“I’M TRULY SORRY MY FRIEND KILLED YOUR FRIEND, MISTER HUMAN, SIR!”
“...cinnamon?”
“STOP THAT!”
“no amount of ibuprofen is gonna fix this.”
“WE WILL HELP YOU WITH THE PREPARATIONS OF THEIR FUNERAL! THE MONEY! THE CASKET! THE INVITES! EVERYTHING!”
“WHA— WHO IS THIS ‘WE’ HERE?!”
“...you’ve been on the internet for too long, bud.”
“THEN WE WILL TURN OURSELVES IN BY THE NAME OF THE LAW OF YOU HUMANS!”
“DON’T IGNORE ME!!”
“i’m too handsome ta go ta jail!”
“debatable.”
“oi, ya wanna go?”
“GUYS, FOCUS!”
“WE WOULDN’T EVEN BE IN THIS MESS IF THIS IMBECILE HAD CONTROL HIMSE—”
“I HAVE PLENTY OF SELF-CONTROL, THANK YOU!”
“guys…”
“THEN WHERE WAS IT FOR THIS?!”
“FUCK YOU!”
“guys!”
The last voice grabs all the attention of the group of newcomers, their heads whipping to him, before he points back at your body with an unnerved expression. There, it’s revealed your pale body is standing on its feet again, hands on your hips as you wear a big, bloody grin. An uncomfortable amount of your skeleton is shown under your red-stained skin, while your one remaining eye looks one motion away from falling out of its socket.
…
Taking that as your cue, you take a step forward, momentarily relishing in your audience’s flinches, as you say, with utter glee and amusement, “Tis’ but a flesh wound.”
…
“wha?"