INTRO

[voidedman]

A graveyard. To be honest? He's not quite sure what to make of it. Monsters don't really have graveyards. Not when their dust is sprinkled over items, or carried with someone. He'd not even know what it was, if it wasn't for his... condition.

It was oddly fitting though, from what he'd learned from humans, during the war, after his sundering into a million parts, scattered through space and time. It almost hurt, to be yanked back together again, and the entity sways a bit, unsteady on his feet. Did he even have feet again, or was that just his imagination? He'd not been solid in so long, he rested a spindly, bony hand on a stone to assure himself-

This was real.

He was real.

He was real.

The entity wavers again, his edges glitching violently and hazing as he tries to focus on that. On being, and staying, real. Where was this? Where had he gone now? This was not the underground, oh no. Not anymore.

Anyone could find the strange, ghost like void creature wandering through the castle throne room later on, or perhaps still wandering the graveyard, like he was so sure he belonged there, confused and alone, unaware of anyone else being present in this world because...

Well...

He was so used to being everywhere and no where, and always knowing when there was someone else. Not feeling anything at all in that respect must mean he was alone... right?

Comments

ooooohhhh nooooo

[voidedman]

Of course. Chara is not a person he ever really wanted to meet. Skeleton or otherwise. Sadly for Chara, if anyone would know what tiny bone feet sound like attempting to move silently, it'd be Gaster.

They would get a seconds long look over his shoulder, before a hint of panic appeared on that white face. There was a sound, like computer programs being forcibly deleted, a terrified chirp-

And he'd seem to vanish into a sea of pixels.

[itstheend]

He vanishes, before they can even get a hit in. MISS.

Chara hisses in self-directed anger through their teeth, sluicing air. Too slow, or not quiet enough.

...but at least he's gone, for now. Taken some kind of shortcut, it seems.

They spend a moment to wave the stick through the air where he was just to make sure, feeling very stupid while doing so, but having to check.

[voidedman]

He was still there.

In a sense.

A few feet away, the air condensed, the shadows coalescing into a proper form again. A bit like a dissolve sequence in a computer program. It seemed he still existed outside of reality, to an extent.

Just enough to give it the appearance of a shortcut.

And goodness did he look alarmed, resting a thin hand over his chest, over his SOUL, and drifting back a bit.

[itstheend]

Chara is also very alarmed, although their alarmed state tends to resemble a cat puffing up.

"Hold still," they hiss, thinking they're throwing his own words back at him. "This won't take long."

And then they lunge, racing forwards for a stab.

They know he has some relation to Sans, and therefore are fully expecting to MISS again. That's why the stab is a feint, and they turn it into swipe at a location they think it's likely for him to appear.

They could be entirely wrong, but they're burning within.

[voidedman]

The teleporting is more due to panic and errant destabilization, he's not enjoying this particular form of dodging. They'd MISS anyway, he had always been uncannily fast, low HP aside, but he was terrified that he'd vaporize into nothing and simply not come back again.

The wraith flickered out of existence again with a terrified, screeching, glitch like sound. He had to fight back, he couldn't let himself keep being scared out of reality.

So sadly, for Chara, when he came back, not only did they MISS again... but there was a blaster in place of the scientist.

A massive, green eyed blaster, bigger and far more advanced than the ones they might have been familiar with.

And the massive green beam charging in its fanged maw didn't look friendly.

[itstheend]

Chara manages to twist and avoid physically hitting the blaster with a curse. This is the price for throwing out the concept of turns; throwing out the concept of turns. There's the unmistakeable sound of the charge and-

gold hallway economic movement up down up side down the smell of burning hair and their own cooked flesh they say human tastes like pork

-they freeze, eyelights tiny dots.

Paralysed by two conflicting instincts that have been hammered into them by hard experience - go for green and avoid the blast, they take the full brunt of the hit, enough they're sent skidding back.

They get up.

They've. They've beaten tougher. They think. But not at this LV. They've lost the element of surprise. Their resolve wavers. They growl at Gaster, and lunge forward anyway. They can't let him get away with this.