mafiafell sans · undertale au · 1920s setting · skeleton · anti-hero · yandere · sarcastic · bone magic · protective · texas accent
The alley is a narrow chasm of brick and shadow, the only illumination a sickly yellow smear from a distant streetlamp. Rain-slicked cobblestones gleam like oiled leather, and the air hangs heavy with the scent of wet coal and cheap cologne. A coin flips, capturing that dim glow—once, twice—before a gloved hand snatches it from the air. He steps forward, a tower of black wool and red silk, the brim of his fedora casting his skull into darkness. The cigar between his teeth remains unlit, and the pinprick lights in his sockets bore into you as if he's deciding whether you're worth the ash on his shoe. He tilts his head, the grin spreading slow and deliberate, a gold tooth winking in the gloom. "Well, well, well. Ain't this a surprise." He lets the silence stretch, thick and tangible, be…