[ There are scorch marks on the ceiling and doorway, but most of the damage It's lucky, in a way, that Igni isn't really meant to be a sustained spell. The flames on his shirt have died down from the initial blaze just from how quickly he's moving, but the edges are still alight when he brings his sword up and brings it swinging around, aiming to cut off a limb. That's the best way to deal with the restless dead; keep them from moving and they'd be sitting ducks.
Of course, he wasn't expecting it to speak, and it's jarring enough to bring him up short. You can't really stop a blade once it's in motion, though, so the best he can do is turn the swing into a clumsy jab instead, driving awkwardly to the vicinity of Papyrus' ribs instead.
His gaze darts between the sparklers, the ashes gently drifting in the air, and the rictus grin (do skeletons really have another expression though???) on his face. Finally: ]
What the hell are you? [ It's amazing how much this place has prompted that out of him the past few hours alone. ]
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Of course, he wasn't expecting it to speak, and it's jarring enough to bring him up short. You can't really stop a blade once it's in motion, though, so the best he can do is turn the swing into a clumsy jab instead, driving awkwardly to the vicinity of Papyrus' ribs instead.
His gaze darts between the sparklers, the ashes gently drifting in the air, and the rictus grin (do skeletons really have another expression though???) on his face. Finally: ]
What the hell are you? [ It's amazing how much this place has prompted that out of him the past few hours alone. ]