[They're not. Even as Frisk says it, red steel layered through their voice, the conviction isn't quite enough to still the tremble to their hand. It's been a long time since they've pretended that they're too good to kill anyone. One hundred and ten deaths too late. But that doesn't mean they've gotten the chance to kill since then, and the fear of that cold swell sits in their chest, locking their SOUL down.]
[They've cleaved apart dust in the shape of magic. They've sundered misty, shadowy shades that mindlessly served a queen. Even blood had touched their blade -- but not with killing intent.]
[...]
[They don't want to do this. They don't.]
[But there's no time.]
[There's no time to think about this anymore.]
[Frisk doesn't look at the Batter. They simply angle their gaze towards a rush of movement, and duck the overhead swing by a small and fast monkey -- who immediately recovers and leaps at the Batter as its next target.]
no subject
[They're not. Even as Frisk says it, red steel layered through their voice, the conviction isn't quite enough to still the tremble to their hand. It's been a long time since they've pretended that they're too good to kill anyone. One hundred and ten deaths too late. But that doesn't mean they've gotten the chance to kill since then, and the fear of that cold swell sits in their chest, locking their SOUL down.]
[They've cleaved apart dust in the shape of magic. They've sundered misty, shadowy shades that mindlessly served a queen. Even blood had touched their blade -- but not with killing intent.]
[...]
[They don't want to do this. They don't.]
[But there's no time.]
[There's no time to think about this anymore.]
[Frisk doesn't look at the Batter. They simply angle their gaze towards a rush of movement, and duck the overhead swing by a small and fast monkey -- who immediately recovers and leaps at the Batter as its next target.]