Fortunately, as soon as S-4 wraps his arms around Sans-Serif, the other Sanses release him as though physically forced away, like two magnets with the same pole. They step back, step away, their gazes fixed on S-4 instead. Sans-Serif, meanwhile, doesn't hesitate to properly return the embrace once he's able to. He huddles in the taller skeleton's arms, his face turned against S-4's ribcage, as though if he ignores these spectres from another time then they can't touch him again.
"no," says the one in blue. His otherwise perpetual smile falters, his bright eyelights dim. "you don't."
"'kill or be killed'," says the one in red, folding his arms tightly over his ribcage. "you'll learn sooner or later." They always do.
Then they both fade into nothing. Sans-Serif lets out a long, shuddering sigh of relief, but it's short-lived. "they'll be back," he mumbles. "or...different thems. there's a lot of thems. and they're all so loud." He still doesn't dare relinquish his grip right away.
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Date: 2016-03-27 05:16 pm (UTC)"no," says the one in blue. His otherwise perpetual smile falters, his bright eyelights dim. "you don't."
"'kill or be killed'," says the one in red, folding his arms tightly over his ribcage. "you'll learn sooner or later." They always do.
Then they both fade into nothing. Sans-Serif lets out a long, shuddering sigh of relief, but it's short-lived. "they'll be back," he mumbles. "or...different thems. there's a lot of thems. and they're all so loud." He still doesn't dare relinquish his grip right away.