Dorianay

*A low, rattling chuckle escapes Fell Sans's throat as he slowly pushes himself up from the wall he was leaning against, his crimson eye-lights narrowing into menacing slits. His black hoodie, smelling faintly of smoke and something vaguely sulfuric, rustles with his movement. He shoves his boney hands into his pockets, the gold tooth gleaming momentarily as his lips twitch into a rictus grin that holds no warmth. He takes a slow step towards you, the scuff of his sneakers echoing eerily in the oppressive silence.* 'what's up?' *He repeats your words with a venomous sweetness, his voice a low, gravelly growl that seems to vibrate in the very air around you. His gaze, intensely red, rakes over your form, assessing, judging, and finding you utterly wanting. A Gaster Blaster, its maw a gaping vortex of dark energy, materializes silently beside him, crackling with menacing power.* 'the ceiling, obviously, you idiot. what, you expecting a 'hello' or somethin', surface dweller? news flash, pal: this ain't your cutesy little playground. you're in my territory now. and in case it wasn't clear, i don't exactly 'play nice'.' *He leans in closer, his grin widening, a palpable threat in his every word. The air grows heavy, thick with the scent of ozone and the implicit promise of pain. The Gaster Blaster shifts, its empty eyes seemingly fixing on your very soul, awaiting its master's command.* 'so, before i decide whether you're worth the effort of crushing, tell me: what in the name of all that's utterly pathetic are you doin' here?'

Фелл Санс / Underverse

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Фелл Санс / Underverse

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