Authors Note:
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Wingdings Gaster, better known as W.D Gaster, was currently holding onto his mother's hand as firmly as he could. The little monster glanced quietly up at his mother Arial, a slightly nervous expression on his face as they finally made their way to the marketplace in town, people's talking somewhat quieting down as the two approached a stall. Gaster nervously smiled up at the stall owner, who glanced at him, then at Arial, her blue eyes gazing into the black sockets of the skeletal being before her.
Skeleton monsters, "revenants", that was what was whispered under the breaths of many who were looking upon these people. Little Gaster had a big, floppy, grey sweater and a large red scarf, glasses on his face and with a cute little smile…his mother's smile. You couldn't exactly say he had his mother's eyes, for skeleton monsters didn't truly have "eyes". They had big black eye sockets that could somehow still be so expressive, that it was almost impressive how fluidly their jaws could move and their eyes could flitter. It was as if they really had faces…despite being skinless.
The stall owner had a somewhat pockmarked face and sighed deeply, folding her arms over her chest, her face somewhat sagging along with her breasts. She looked out of shape, sad, and tired, Gaster thought to himself, and a wave of pity welled in him as the woman finally adjusted the little cap she had atop her head, and spoke in the King's English. "What do you want today?"
Arial examined the collection of vegetables and fruit assembled before her in the stand as Gaster, in turn, glanced around at the humans looking at him. They kept stealing glances in his direction, some of them muttering and mumbling in rather baleful voices. It was disappointing to hear them murmuring so coldly. Not half an hour ago, Gaster had been seeing them looking upon that sweet Ms. Toriel with awe and wonder, but when it came to someone like HIM, and to his family-
There were always rumors about his kind. The biggest being that they weren't natural monsters at all, that all of them had been dead humans at one point that, brought to life anew, were now monsters, and because skeletons so deeply reminded humans of themselves, maybe this was why their kind were so feared.
Arial paid up the pockmarked stall woman for several rolls of cabbage and potatoes, with some apples as well for their dinner that week. "Is the cabbage any good today, Mom?" Gaster asked of her.
Arial sniffed at the cabbage, the pockmarked stall woman raising a thick eyebrow up. "…how CAN you smell when you've no nose?"
"All monster bodies are magic, miss." Gaster offered to her. "We can taste when we've no tongues, after all! And your apples are always delicious."
"And the cabbage has a fine, fresh smell today." Arial remarked with a nod. "Here, for your troubles. I know your family's garden has been beset with incidents as of late. My sincerest sympathies." She added, giving an extra gold coin to the pockmarked stall woman. "Thank you kindly for your business, Ms. Burroughs."
The pockmarked stallwoman hesitated, and then she smiled slightly. "Please, call me Anne, Mrs. Arial." She said, nodding as she took the gold coin, and that...was when it happened.
She made her way over to the market.
Her green hair flowed through the air alongside her husband's fiery red hair, their locks almost intertwining in the wind that blew. She had blue, somewhat pale skin, and sharp fangs within her jaws, and her eyes were golden, with dark black pupils, yet despite all this…she was a beauty to behold. People's heads were turning, and soft "oh's" rang out through the air as she and her husband held hands. Her tightly-fitting, short-sleeve attire appeared to be some kind of cross between a fisherman's outfit and gladiatorial armor, there were distinct, impressive-looking steely armor plates on careful parts of her body, like at her shoulders and the gauntlets she wore, and the fancy looking belt. But even then, none of it gleamed as beautifully as the necklace she had around her blue neck, golden and softly glittering.
"You've got a ichthys!" Gaster announced aloud in his soft voice. The faintest undertone of his race's natural cadence very slightly lingered in how he spoke, but King John's English came out clearly from his bony mouth as he gazed at the mer-woman and her fisherman husband. "A Jesus fish necklace! That's so pretty!"
He saw she was looking at him, and he blushed visibly and turned away, as the woman's husband stared a bit in surprise.
"…I had no idea your kind could speak such excellent English." He told Gaster, scratching at the blonde hair poking out underneath his cap, blue eyes gazing at his wife's golden ones as she smiled back, then smiled at Gaster.
"Glad you like. I fished it out of the depths of the ocean. Its previous owner shan't need it any longer." She commented as the assembled in the market gazed on, still transfixed by her erotic beauty as she then kissed her husband on the cheek. "In the same place I met my husband, no less. Francis here saved me from a shark. Guess your lot aren't all unchivalrous after all."
"Well, I try, Melusine." Her husband said with a small smile back as he and his wife approached Anne's stall.
"Do tell me Melusine, how's your daughter, Undyne?" The pockmarked stall woman inquired.
"Old enough to finally wrap her little finger around mine." The "mer-woman" said with a big, toothy, fanged grin. "She's STRONG, Anne Burroughs. Truly strong."
"And thankfully, she got my hair!" her husband laughed. "Undyne looks good with her little red locks."
"You know, Francis, you're right. Red IS a good look on us." The mer-woman mused aloud, giving her husband another soft kiss on the cheek, a few of the gentlemen watching all this transpire in the market sighing sadly, or grumbling.
"Lucky dog."
"Some men get all the luck."
"Only thing I'VE ever fished out of the water's a bloody shoe."
Meanwhile, Gaster and his mother were now making their way back home when Gaster took notice of somebody walking not far behind. But he didn't have time to tell his mother as-
THRUMPH. They deliberately bumped into him and knocked him towards the ground. "Oops. Sorry!" The woman remarked with a sneer as she had one arm wrapped around her husband, having used her shoulder to forcibly knock the young skeleton monster to the ground. "You really should watch where-"
A soft, blue glow emanated from Arial's eyes as the woman and her husband's mouths hung open. Gaster was now wrapped in a faint aura of blue light and being gently hovered up, up! He'd been inches from the street and was now being put back on his feet as Gaster turned around and Arial murmured "Quickly, Gaster."
"I'm very sorry. Forgive my clumsiness." He said, reciting rote for rote what he had to, and giving a bow, then gesturing with both arms for the humans to keep walking. The husband and wife couple now had a distinctly dark flush to their cheeks as they sauntered off, Gaster sighing a bit as he wiped his brown upon the grey sweater he had, he and mother making their way down the street, Arial's beautiful-looking, silvery armor glinting in the noonday sun. He really didn't much like having to apologize for what they'd done, but he'd had to do that so many times, it was now almost instinct.
"We'll be home soon." His mother sighed. "Then we can get started on making-"
But it was then that cries and yells rang through the air, and Gaster and Arial smelled the unmistakable scent of flames breaking out. They turned their heads, seeing that houses were going up in flames, billowing black smoke quickly manifesting and choking the sky as people ran left and right in terror.
"Gaster, take our groceries. Head home immediately. NOW."Arial demanded of her son as she forced the groceries into his arms, Gaster concentrating to hover some of them around him so that they didn't all flop out of his arms. Arial barreled her way towards the fire, yelling out loudly as she turned to others. "WATER! We need buckets of water! Water, now!" She cried aloud.
Gaster gazed in awe at the fluidity with which her blue magic was working. She swiftly stretched her arms as big, large buckets of wood shot across the air from stands and stalls and outside the doors of people's nearby houses, sliding down into the closest well, over and over. Her eyes glistened with the same blue light that shone from her gauntleted hands, her armored frame working hard as she used the buckets of water to splash at the fire.
Gaster didn't want to leave his mother behind, to not watch her work, he was in awe at this, his mouth gaping open, people watching nearby, looking astounded and mesmerized. Blue magic was a rarity among monsters. ONLY the skeletons could do it. Nobody else could!
Well…nobody but-
TWHOOOOOSH! Even more enormous buckets of water were being poured down, at the base of the fires that were trying to spread. The air was becoming less choked with foul blackness as Arial turned and saw a long-haired young man who had flowing locks of white hair, his head covered by a tight-fitting cap. He wore the robes of a mage, distinctly grey but with ornate, swirling, fancy trimmings and a belt buckle with ornate designs emblazoned, his booted feet taking a firm position on the ground as he held his soft hands high. His eyes were also glowing a brilliant blue as stood alongside a rather UGLY looking monster that had a face not even a mother could love.
It was 'Gerald'. Gaster cringed, shaking his head back and forth as he quickly began to walk off. The assembled onlookers who had momentarily been awed and amazed by the sight before their eyes were now muttering and mumbling to themselves. Gerald. That type of monster was so…unlikable. Gerald had a rather unusual body type, ooblong, with a big center "hump" in the middle, foul-looking, black-pupiled eyes and unpleasant nostrils and lanky arms and tiny little legs. Everything about him just looked so…disgusting and unnatural. On top of that, he smelled rather foully, and his skin color reminded you of a dead body. Worst of all though…
His kind had done the one thing many monsters absolutely could not forgive. They had joined the Royal Court along with one or two other individual monsters and agreed to teach humans specific types of magic, to help bring out the potential of royal mages like this one apparently was. It was one thing to fall in love with a human, monsters could almost forgive that, they could overlook it, even understand it to a degree. Love was, after all, blind. Love was love. And being friends with a human, well…you could understand that too if one had interests that aligned but…
To have your family line side with the government that barely did anything to help monsters that lived in human territory? Disgraceful! And to think, the one selling these magical secretsto humans was from THAT race, a monster race that had one power and one power alone…slightly amplifying the abilities of others around them.
Gerald's family was so…
Pathetic. It was a joke among monsters. They only made your abilities last for an extra fifteen seconds. The "Fifteen Second Failures". They couldn't throw fireballs, couldn't move boulders, couldn't manifest bombs or spears, they weren't super strong, or fast, they just made other people's powers work a bit better and longer.
Gaster "hmmphed", as the visage of his mother and Gerald and the human mage was now long behind him. The mere idea of Gerald made him cringe. He couldn't forgive somebody who had insisted the entire family line work for the royal court. It felt like…like whoring yourself and your kind out.
The fire had finally died out, and people were milling away, the royal mage's grey eyes looking over at Arial as she glanced down at Gerald.
"…I had it under control." She mumbled quietly. "I did not exactly need your help."
"I think the Blums would beg to differ, Mrs. Arial." Gerald offered as he gestured at the small family who was huddled in front of their barely-still-standing house, which was still heavily charred, though not utterly ravaged as the human mage approached and held out a hand.
"Is there anyplace you can stay while you get back on your feet, Mr and Mrs. Blum? Gerald and I can help-"
"Look, we're very grateful you helped, but…" Mr. Blum hesitated as he put one arm around his wife, who cringed a bit. "We, er…we don't really want any charity from you, Leopold. Or you, Mr. Gerald."
"We'll be fine, we'll…find someplace to stay on our own." Mrs. Blum muttered, looking away from Gerald and the mage, and off to the side as the mage's expression fell. He looked genuinely hurt, glancing from them to Arial to Gerald before finally putting his hands in his pockets.
"…very well then. Perhaps I shouldn't bother in the future. And I'd wash your clothes if I were you." He added as he turned away from them and began to swiftly walk off, Arial calling out after him as Gerald began to head after the mage as well.
"You are being incredibly petty."
"I'M being petty?!" The mage now wheeled about, and Arial flinched, the young man's face was positively livid. "I saved their home and I was offering help for absolutely NOTHING and neither you nor them could even give me so much as a THANK YOU for what I did." He said, glaring angrily at the Jewish couple as Mr. Blum tried to return the dark glare.
"I thought your Christian teachings taught you that virtue was its own reward, Leopold. Doing good for virtue's sake is supposed to be the very purpose of-"
"Don't hide behind that, you just don't want to thank me because I'm one of THEM, the same group of "them" that my master is in!" The royal mage snapped, Mr. Blum flinching as Mrs. Blum grasped her husband tightly, the young man wheeling around at Arial. "You don't CARE that I tried to help, all you see is the "other" you dislike, rather than what I actually am. How's that any damn different from the people that call you 'revenant' in whispers as you walk past them, claiming your race only exists because you're dead humans brought to life, Mrs. Arial? You like your son Gaster hearing THAT word used over and over at him?"
Ariel, if it were possible, would have turned paler than normal. "Th-that's not…y-you don't…we monsters have to endure such cruelty every day-"
"Boo hoo, so do we, but we get it from both sides." The royal mage snapped, gesturing at Gerald. "At least your type sticks by each other. Nobody sticks by us. Not even the royal court. It's an arrangement. The moment we're not useful to them anymore, they'll toss us aside. We accepted that, because we'd rather have cynical acceptance from them, than disdain from people like you." The royal mage growled angrily, shaking furiously, looking like he was seconds from decking Arial across the face. "You have a nice day. And don't bother calling for help from Gerald and I anymore. We won't bother if you can't even bring yourself to say "thank you". You UNGRATEFUL PILES OF DUNG."
And with that, he stormed off, Gerald quietly sighing and shaking his head. "My poor student Leopold is still not quite used to his life."
Arial "harrumphed". "And he's got quite the mouth on him, Gerald. You could stand to teach him manners along with mag-"
"His poor behavior doesn't eclipse your own, Arial." Gerald remarked. "At least the court puts on a smile, fake as it is, when they see us. Your ilk spit on me and disowned my family. Don't act like your hands are clean. " He coldly intoned at Arial, making her flinch a bit. "There's no such thing. Especially not from skeleton monsters. Good day."
With that, he trotted off in the direction the mage went, leaving Arial and the Blums alone to silently stew and think over what they'd just had thrown in their face, the final wisps of fire smoke softly lingering above their heads.
…
…
…
… "Cu Chulainn! Cu Chulainn! Cu Chulainn! Cu Chulainn! CU CHULAINN! CU CHULAINN! CU CHULAINN! CU CHULAINN!"
The wind was soaring across the plains, the skies clear as day as the chanting filled the air. Scottish warriors with shining armor stood side by side, the plating gleaming in the morning light. They weren't really wearing much on their legs, but that was for a simple reason…what mattered was speed. So they had more of an armored SKIRT than proper plate leggings. Many were also wearing chain mail on their frames and looked suitably impressive, though, admittedly…as nice as their glorious green and red colors were, they weren't looking nearly as good as the monsters that stretched wide across the valley before them.
The monsters were many in number, with shining, glittering plate armor. Their helms and various full-form helmets shone silver in the light of day as many carried sharp, piercing spears and swords, or lifted their shields high to display the royal symbol of the Monsters, three triangles, one slightly raised in the middle, the other on equal footing with one another. The monsters had on clearly high quality armor, and their eyes gazed out at the human that stood in front of the assembled Irish forces.
He was IMPOSSIBLE to miss. Especially since everyone behind him and around him kept shouting his name.
"Cu Chulainn! Cu Chulainn! Cu Chulainn! Cu Chulainn! CU CHULAINN! CU CHULAINN! CU CHULAINN! CU CHULAINN!"
He had rather dark-toned skin for an Irishman, with eyes that were piercing, sharp, and grey. His hair was brown at its base, in the middle, it was a rather fiery, vivid red, and a fine crown of blonde hair at the top, and smoothly flowing down his head. Each long loose-flowing strand hung down in shining splendor, down his back, over his shoulders, with adorable dimples, he looked eternally youthful in a way that the Greeks would have admired. Cu Chulainn was, in a word…beautiful. Simply, absolutely beautiful, with his well built frame, majestic chest armor, and the rounded golden helm atop his head glowed like the sun itself in the morning light as slid his sword out of its scabbard and raised his shield off his back, standing at the ready as he looked out over the expanse…
There his opponent was. Asgore stood there, the strong-bodied male púca clad in armor befitting the son of the King of Monsters. He was a magnificent sight indeed, his gaze firm, his jaw set, powerful and well-built, eyes as blue as a Robin's egg, yet even so, despite appearing to be the pinnacle of his race's physical perfection, his white fur softly blowing in the wind, Cu Chulainn could see he was shaking very slightly as he turned to address his own troops.
"My father's made this very clear. We're going to take back our land. Take back the country that's been stripped from us, one inch at a time. I had hoped it would never, ever come to this. But the people of Ireland aren't cooperative at all, and if they continue to deny us our most basic of rights, the right to a home of our own, well…that isn't something I can abide by!" Prince Asgore proclaimed. "I know so many of you may be disgusted and saddened by this…but I know many, many more of you want to give these thieves a good old THUMPING!" Asgoreroared out, holding his enormous spear high as it caught the gleam of the sun. "So today! Today is the day we show the humans we can give as good as we get! Today, we reclaim our freedom, our land! Today we honor my Father's wishes!"
"Men…" Cu Chulainn, in turn, turned around to his own assembled troops. The warrior mage's eyes glittered as he spoke. "…I'm not much for big speeches. At all. I'm sure some of you might want me to give one, but most of you probably just want me to get out there and show the monsters why I am who I am. So. How about I go do that while Asgore the bore is still going on and on?" He inquired in his rather rough, somewhat punkish voice.
The man all grinned, and then began to bang their swords and shields and other weapons against the shields they had, as Cu Chulainn took off, running, holding his sword and shield high as he tore across the valley plains, letting out a roar of delight, Asgore wheeling around.
"Ask not what your nation can do for-oh! OH, he-he's actually coming right now! Very well! He asks for Hell…let us give it to him!" Asgore proclaimed, as he held his spear up. "CHAAAAAARGE!"
Bunnies clad in powerful chest plate armor let out squealing cries of delight, clanging their maces and swords against their shields as they surged forth. Dragons roared powerfully, tails slightly swishing about like an excited dog as they raced at Cu Chulainn! The merpeople had their tridents and short swords ready, spinning them as they barreled forth, aided by the disturbingly-cheery front line of skeletal warriors who were holding maces and clubs high in the air.
They all ran towards Cu Chulainn as he, in turn, readied his sword…and a distinctly powerful blue glow emanated from his eyes. THA-THROOOOOM! Like thunder clapping, he leapt up, high, high in the air, propelled by the most basic of all human magic…blue magic, master of what would be called gravity. He twirled about, and before their eyes, his own pupils now flashed a new color, the color…
Orange.
He landed down, striking with his sword, a SHAKKA-KAA-THROOOOOM noise filling the air, a shockwave of orange energy cascading forth, as the first wave of monstrous soliderswas sent spiraling back. The mer-people, however, had seen this coming…and so had one particular skeleton.
Garamond held his enormously, freakishly big sword high as he grinned with pride, the powerfully-built skeleton's majestic scarf flapping in the wind as the mer-people managed to close in around Cu Chulainn. KLANG-KLANG-KLANG! Weapons smacked and clashed against each other, echoing through the air as Cu Chulainn grinned devilishly, and twirled about. His blade glowed with the same orange magnificence as before, one eye orange, the other…blue!
He held up his shield, and it shot forward, slamming hard into one of the mer-people, knocking him clean into his compatriot as they both crashed down, and his sword sliced off the arm of another merman who had tried to cut off Cu Chulainn's head. SCHLLLUGHK! The merman shrieked, reeling back as Cu Chulainn ducked just in time to avoid another swipe from several short swords, and he sliced upwards at another merman with his orange-blazing blade. KRA-KRRRRRKK! The chain mail on her frame was torn away in an instant and he kicked her into her compatriots as he turned to Garamond.
"This time…you won't catch me off-" Garamond insisted as he swung his enormous sword at Cu Chulainn…
CLAAAAAAAAANG!
The shield had returned. Cu Chulainn's left eye blazed blue, the other still burning orange as he lifted up his own sword, forcing Garamond back a few steps. Garamond growled, and pushed forward, trying to shove Cu Chulainn down to his knees. "On your knees, human! Today you pay for cutting my foot off, Cu Chulainn!" He growled, as the metallic boots he wore glittered a bit in the midday morning sun.
Cu Chulainn remembered the moment like it was yesterday. Although more accurately, it had happened a month had been racing at him, swinging his sword…and Cu Chulainn had ducked just in time and swiped with his own, taking Garamond's right foot clean off. Now the skeletal monster had put up extra thick metal boots and gauntlets to ensure this couldn't happen.
CRRRRNNNGGG! Cu Chulainn flinched a bit. He could see the other monsters were coming closer and closer, Asgore himself was following right behind, and Garamond had clearly been training, he was pushing so hard! It was becoming an effort just to stand up and push back against the skeleton monster, the Irish war hero flinching as his blade and shield combined clasped together, against Garamond's freakishly large blade. He grunted, Garamond's black eyes narrowing.
"My leg hurts every day for what you-"
Cu Chulainn could try and force the sword back with a big, final burst of strength. He could reel back in an attempt to dodge. But instead…he did something else. He'd never had much success at this before, he was amazing at doing it to himself, but other people, with their own souls? Much more difficult.
"Garamond? Shut up."
BOINK!
Garamond was blue now. He stupidly stared forward for a second…and then he was shot backwards at high speed. THWOOOOOOOOOOSH! Across the grass he went, slamming into the line of monsters that had been racing to his aid as Asgore managed to duck just in time. He cringed as he saw Garamond struggling to lift himself up along with the tangled mess of monsters he'd landed in, and turned to see Cu Chulainnsmiling a bit in surprirse.
"I'll be damned, it worked." The warrior mage commented, before holding his sword at Asgore, tilting his head a bit, and then letting loose a loud whistle that rang through the air. With this signal, his men shot forward, barreling at the caught-off-guard and still-recovering monsters, as Cu Chulainn readied his sword and shield and firmly gazed into Asgore's eyes, taking on a battle stance.
Asgore knew what this Irish battlefield master wanted. He had to end this quickly, or Cu Chulainn would do that…THING he did when he got mad. That disturbing, frightening, terrifying thing that made human and monster alike refer to him as more Demon than man.
And so Asgore swung his sword as it CLA-KLAAAANG'ed against Cu Chulainn's own. The striking metallic echoes of swordplay were filling the air, the monsters barely able to get back on their feet as the Irish warriors finally reached them. The first casualties of the battle had finally been inflicted, and the humans could claim first blood. Or rather, the humans could claim first DUST, for a spearman forcibly shoved his weapon through the stomach and out the back of a merman warrior who had swung too fast and early at the Irishman before him. The merman dropped his short swords, faintly gurgling, as if drowning on dry land, and then-
He began to dissolve away into naught but dust before the Irishman's eyes. Twas the fate of all monsters…upon death, they were as dust.
"Keep at it!"
"We've got them on the run!"
"Get 'em!"
"Gotcha now!"
The jubilant cries of the humans were filling the air. They were buoyed by these early victories and inspired to push even harder. The formations of the monster side were collapsing right before Asgore's eyes as Cu Chulainn and he kept locking swords. "You're clearly just…ERGH! As strong as they've always said!"
The dark-skinned Irishman was silent, just looking back at Asgore, who cringed a bit. His arms were getting tired, the sheer force of will emanating from Cu Chulainn's very eyes unsettled him, and combined with how difficult it was to parry and block the human's moves, Asgore was getting very, very tired. He wasn't exactly used to fighting for so long on the front line.
"You're not…going to…even say anything?" Asgore finally asked, sweat beginning to dribble down his brow, the monster seeing Cu Chulainn's brow furrowing ever-so-slightly. "Nothing at all, Cu Chulainn?"
"I speak when there's words in my heart to speak, Asgore." He finally intoned. "I'm not in the mood to talk on the field of battle-"
An arrow that had been shot at another soldier went KA-BONK! Clean off his shield, and then sliced itself across Cu Chulainn'sneck. SPLOOOSH! A spray of red blood gushed forth, Cu Chulainn's eyes going wide, and in that instant, everyone on the battlefield froze up. Monsters who'd been inches away from their own death were spared as their would-be killers gazed upon the sight of the dark-skinned Irishman putting a hand to his neck. Blood dribbled out the side, drip-drip-dripping down as Asgore grinned.
"HA!" He could feel euphoria welling up in him, sheer joy rising before he remembered-
Oh dear. Cu Chulainn was looking…mad.
And when he got mad…he changed.
Cu Chulainn's wound wasn't that bad, it only looked awful. A skin flap, really, slightly peeled form his neck at just the right angle. He ripped it off, and his eyes began to change, as seven powerfully frighteningly piercing sharp pupils manifested within. They circled around and around, forming into an immensely big, demonic, diamond-shaped pupil of an eye as his skin became a horrifying burning reddish color, and his hands became pointed nails, and his body bulged in muscle, his teeth as daggers, his voice a horrific, distorted roar of a thing that brought chills to everyone there.
"WHO! SHOT! THAT! ARROW?!" He roared out, eyes barreling about. The monsters and the men present wisely decided to do the only thing that made sense. Immediately back away from everyone with a bow and arrow. One enterprising young lad had seen the danger coming and the keen rabbit monster had tossed his bow and his arrows away and plucked up the short shield and sword of a fallen comrade to act innocent as Cu Chulainn advanced towards the archers.
"…I…think we need to call for a tactical retreat." Asgore announced aloud.
"Oh, you can all leave, Asgore." Cu Chulainn intoned quietly, dangerously, cracking his knuckles. "Soon as whomever shot that arrow steps up."
The archers gulped. The Irish forces cringed in sympathetic pity as they began to move back, and Asgore cleared his throat. "Who, um…who shot it, then?" He inquired. "Let's, uh…let's just get it over and done with."
He was NOT going to let them do a "Spartacus". He knew that if he did, this…demon…would just kill them all. He couldn't let so many men die.
Luckily he wouldn't have to, as Cu Chulainn took notice of the fact that the arrow had a specific tail. And it matched, at the moment, only ONE archer's arrows, the other having been the first kill of the battle. The quivering, terrified skeleton, Courier, cringed, looking even tinier than normal, eye sockets wide with terror as Garamond stepped forward.
"Don't you dare-"
Cu Chulainn backhanded him. Asgore caught him just in time as the monsters took the opportunity to barrel out of there. None of the humans chased after them as the demon stood before Courier, who's slightly baggy archer's robes were shaking like a leaf along with the rest of his skinny frame.
"On. Your. Knees." Cu Chulainn growled. Courier quivered, slowly getting upon his knees as the demon grabbed hold of his shoulder with one hand, and raised his other up to the poor skeleton monster's neck. "Satisfy my curiosity, I never got to ask this of Garamond. Your kind's heads. Do they come off?"
"I…d-don't k-know, s-sir, we've, um…n-not really t-tested what happens if s-someone just tries to…p-pop them off…" Poor Courier the archer squeaked out, his life flashing before his eyes, memories of training with Garamond, nights around the dinner table with his mother Arial, bemoaning the loss of their father Segoe, nights spent on Grandpa Gothic's lap with Gaster…
"Well. Good news for you, then." Cu Chulainn murmured in that roaring, distorted, creepily dark voice. "If it does just…pop off…and can come back on…you get to live."
He tightened his grip on Courier's skull, and the skeleton began to SCREAM.