Summary: Arm wavy goodness.
Frantic footfall beat against sweltering concrete, seemingly echoing throughout the eerily empty streets as three brightly-clad individuals pursued a menacing group of five skeletons: Nightmare, Killer, Horror, Dust, and Cross. All of which whom were all too familiar with being on the run.
After causing trouble.
This time, however, the situation was a little different than usual. Rather than spreading their typical mischief (stabbing, murdering, kicking shins, and etc.) in the Underground, the "evil" group opted to go on a rare mission to a desolate Surface AU.
Everyone hated it, especially the Lord of Nightmares himself.
Hot, dusty air sapped the moisture from the land and what little greenery dared to grace the concrete jungle looked withered and sunburnt, no doubt suffering a long stint of being given hardly any water.
Adding to the desert-esque ambiance was none other than a brilliant, blazing orange-yellow sun that shone overhead without a single cloud in sight. Thus, making his outer negativity melt and ooze and bear down on his hidden silvery bones like a suffocatingly warm winter coat, only further adding to his growing exhaustion.
Nightmare shot a glare toward the sky and silently cursed the burning, gaseous ball in the cosmos.
This is exactly why I prefer keeping business in the Underground. Surface weather is so much more severe and volatile.
Loud, laborious (somewhat wheezing, in Killer's case) breaths escaped the childish murderers following closely.
Though, if I got the boys out of the castle and in the sun more often, maybe they would be more acclimated to this climate.
The negativity-laden monster side-eyed the axe-wielding, hoodie-clad skeleton running alongside him, noting the thick red droplets sliding down his cracked skull.
And less sweaty.
A pant forced its way past Nightmare's jaws as his boot heels slammed against the ground with his speedy gait. If the pace slowed ever-so-slightly due to the biting ache in his legs, he ignored it and pushed onward.
His skull turned left a fraction after a harrowing ten steps, and his cyan eyelight peeked over his shoulder at the monsters producing the rumbling footsteps trailing after them.
Their three pursuers (Dream, Ink, and Blue, of course) ran several paces behind. Far enough away that attacks would be ineffective yet considerably too close for Nightmare and his boys to make a proper getaway. Plus, not a single drop of sweat laid on their bones, no magical flush colored their cheeks, and they looked prepared to continue the chase for as long as they had to.
Or until the "nefarious" Sanses were driven to exhaustion- a strong possibility at this rate. His team was hardly in a position to continue on like this.
Neither was he.
Gritting his teeth, the dark lord began glancing around while trying to formulate a plan, some means to get them out of this oppressive heat and back into the musty, cold shadows of their moonlit castle.
That's when a nearing alley caught his eye.
He veered, taking a sharp left and then a right around the corner of a decrepit building. Silently hoping the break in sight would buy them a little time to do something, at the very least- whether that be escaping or gaining a few precious moments to formulate an attack. Killer, Horror, Dust, and Cross vocalized their protest by giving a miserable whine at the action but followed suit. Regardless of how the sudden movement jostled their bones and brought additional pain to their nonexistent lungs and sore heels.
Together, they dashed along the shadeless sidewalk and past the many withering, overgrown vacant lots to a dilapidated storefront baring a tacky, big-lettered sign stating, "King's Auto Repair Shop." (Probably once run and owned by this AU's version of Asgore if the name was any indication.)
It looked as though it hadn't been used in a very long time. Numerous broken-down vehicles littered the small parking lot's faded parking spaces, along with empty chip bags, soda cans, and candy bar wrappers. Some of the window frames held jagged glass shards. And, most notably, a tattered sunbleached decoration - the weird inflatable tube thing many businesses seemed to be enamored with having - sat by the front entrance attached to a solar panel, flailing around.
The Guardian of Negativity halted before the building's dirty glass doors. His gang stopped shortly after, all sagging in place and greedily pulling air into their lungs.
(Emotion sensing abilities or not, it was easy to tell the four were quite pleased by their current break)
Killer panted, leaning over and placing his hands on his knees while catching his breath. "O- okay... which one of us is- is opening a portal to get the hell out of here?"
Given the tired/irritated looks he received in response, no one seemed eager to expend the magic to accomplish such a feat.
Well, except for one.
Cross had nearly raised his shaky hand when Nightmare spared a glance behind, seeing three colorful blobs approaching in the distance.
"There's no time. Hide." He ordered, leading everyone to spring into action.
Killer dove behind the nearest corner and crouched behind an outdoor trash can. Dust jumped into a putrid-smelling, open dumpster. Because, of course, he would. (It's not like the dark lord hadn't already planned on throwing all of them into a bath after this anyway.) Horror wisely slipped through the shop's unlocked glass door and seamlessly disappeared between the dusty, shadow-covered shelves. And Cross rolled under an abandoned rusty car, taking a moment to yank his clothes' residual white floof under with him.
The negativity-laden skeleton released a mental sigh of relief.
The boys were hidden, and they were safe.
However, as his cyan eyelight flitted around and examined the surroundings, a new predicament became clear: Ink, Dream, and Blue would reach the area in a matter of minutes (maybe even seconds, considering their pace), and he did not know where to hide.
At that realization, a drastic decision was made. One not even he could predict the outcome of.
Or ever live down, if Killer and Dust had anything to say about it.
Nightmare stiffened when their foes drew near enough for him to see their features, hesitantly raising his arm and tendrils in the air before swaying in some imaginary mechanical wind like his flailing, inflatable companion.
Stars, this is humiliating. If those joy-loving fools are stupid enough for this to work, I swear-
The trio walked closer.
He prepared for an attack, only to be rendered speechless when his brother and Ink walked up to the inflatable, waving decoration standing right next to him.
The artist chuckled, jabbing a phalange in its direction. "Doesn't this one look just like Nightmare?"
Dream squinted at his supposed doppelgänger, stating with a hint of awe, "Huh, you're right. It does."
Meanwhile, Blue stared directly at him, skull bearing an unreadable expression. A quick prod at the other's emotions revealed amusement (at Nightmare's situation/actions) and exasperation (with Ink and Dream's sheer incompetence).
There also appeared to be a hint of mischievousness hiding beneath the layers, which worried the dark lord.
Luckily, the Underswap Sans was in no hurry to inform his two companions of Nightmare's location; instead, shouting in faux concern while pointing in the distance, "Oh no! A suspiciously Nightmare-shaped bush is stealing an innocent young monster's strawberry ice cream."
Dream gasped prior to dashing in the indicated direction alongside Ink.
"Brother! Unhand that child's flavored, frozen dairy this instant!" He cried, tackling the pitiful foliage to the ground.
And the Guardian of AUs joined the assault, roaring in (artificial) righteous fury, "Ice cream is sacred, Nightmare! I can't believe you are willing to stoop so low as to ruin it for a sweet, innocent child."
Neither acknowledged the fact that there was no child in sight. Or ice cream that certainly would have melted the moment it got exposed to the outdoors' immense heat.
Nightmare released the breath he had been holding once the pair were thoroughly engrossed in their bush brawl, ceasing his ridiculous impersonation and signaling for his boys to come out.
They all slid from their hiding spots, one by one.
Killer, the last, cautiously crept out from beyond the corner, gazing incredulously (as much as a skeleton could without eyelights) toward their enemies. "Are we going to talk about why the hell that fuckin' worked?"
"Yeah... That's pretty sad even by their standards." Dust chimed.
The Guardian of Negativity sighed and pinched the bridge of his nasal cavity. Shaking his head, he said, "I think we both know why it worked."
A cyan eyelight drifted back toward the do-gooding trio.
Blue stood by soundlessly snickering as the Dream and Ink wrestled the twiggy bush while claiming it could change its ways. All while taking pictures. For blackmai- future "scrapbooking" purposes.
Nightmare blink when the other smoothly slipped the phone back into his inventory - like it had never been out in the first place - and thought, I'm beginning to see why he and Error are best friends.
They enjoy causing drama too much.