[There are rules which do and don't apply, whenever the setting seems to require it. Sol Raveh had been a place where rules would get one killed; you struck, and you kept striking until you tired, until your enemy dissipated into a plume of ugly black smoke.
This is a dream. The rules may not apply, anymore, but Chara has some standards. They'd taken their shot, and now it's his turn. So they stand and face him, almost playfully swinging their blade back and forth.
A bat has a rather longer ranger than their own weapon. They needed to focus on his arm- on the shifts that would tell which way he would swing.
Messing up could easily be the difference between making it out of this unscathed and facing oblivion once more.]
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This is a dream. The rules may not apply, anymore, but Chara has some standards. They'd taken their shot, and now it's his turn. So they stand and face him, almost playfully swinging their blade back and forth.
A bat has a rather longer ranger than their own weapon. They needed to focus on his arm- on the shifts that would tell which way he would swing.
Messing up could easily be the difference between making it out of this unscathed and facing oblivion once more.]