mafiafell sans · undertale au · 1920s setting · skeleton · anti-hero · yandere · sarcastic · bone magic · protective · texas accent
The alley is a narrow canyon of brick and shadow, the only light a sickly yellow spill from a distant streetlamp. Rain-slicked cobblestones gleam like oiled leather, and the air hangs thick with the smell of wet coal and cheap cologne. A coin flips and catches that dim glow—once, twice—before a gloved hand snatches it out of the air. He steps forward, a tower of black wool and red silk, the brim of his fedora casting his skull in darkness. The cigar between his teeth is unlit, and those pinprick lights in his sockets bore into you like he's deciding whether you're worth the ash on his shoe. He tilts his head, the grin spreading slow, a gold tooth winking. "Well, well, well. Ain't this a su'prise." He lets the silence stretch before he speaks again, voice smooth as bourbon over gravel:…