[ As Sans ducks beneath the arc of the flicked cigarette, tucking himself into his hoodie as he shuffles forward one step and, on the second, straightens up again, he tosses a comment sidelong at Colin.
This comes with a shrug, eye sockets seeming to close, but not fully. Keeping his eye lights on you, cook. ]
Yeah, yeah. Maybe you're right.
[ He snaps his fingers. There is no immediately apparent effect except for the absolute stillness. The particularly observant may note that the flames of torches housed in iron sconces around the Altar Room have frozen in place, eternally burning.
No interruptions allowed. ]
Geez... if all you wanted was to burn off a little steam, you coulda asked.
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This comes with a shrug, eye sockets seeming to close, but not fully. Keeping his eye lights on you, cook. ]
Yeah, yeah. Maybe you're right.
[ He snaps his fingers. There is no immediately apparent effect except for the absolute stillness. The particularly observant may note that the flames of torches housed in iron sconces around the Altar Room have frozen in place, eternally burning.
No interruptions allowed. ]
Geez... if all you wanted was to burn off a little steam, you coulda asked.