Blanche just stares at the skeleton in his hand as its magical aura seems to set it alight. At first it's just a feeling of warmth and turbulence, but quickly it feels like holding onto an overly hot mug of coffee. He grimaces in disgust, feeling the magic the Doctor is crafting swirl around the sensation. Objects around the stage begin lifting off the ground as if being affected by anti-gravity. He can feel the monster's magic strain against his own, trying to get away.
The sparkling blackness of Blanche's spacial claws spreads down his arm and up to his shoulder. Sneering, he gives Sans's shaking form one last look over before simply seeming to allow the wisping claws of his hand to detach from the rest of his more human body, leaving a swirling miasma of blackness around Sans's neck and hands. He hurls him to the floor off to the side of the stage, and then turns his focus to the two so called musicians challenging him.
The black stump of his arm swirls and reforms in a matter of moments.
"Enough," he says, and releases the form of his hand again, as if it is a gaseous cloud. It pours over the forms of Luce and the Doctor and then suddenly constricts, looking to trap their bodies in crushing bonds of concentrated space.
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The sparkling blackness of Blanche's spacial claws spreads down his arm and up to his shoulder. Sneering, he gives Sans's shaking form one last look over before simply seeming to allow the wisping claws of his hand to detach from the rest of his more human body, leaving a swirling miasma of blackness around Sans's neck and hands. He hurls him to the floor off to the side of the stage, and then turns his focus to the two so called musicians challenging him.
The black stump of his arm swirls and reforms in a matter of moments.
"Enough," he says, and releases the form of his hand again, as if it is a gaseous cloud. It pours over the forms of Luce and the Doctor and then suddenly constricts, looking to trap their bodies in crushing bonds of concentrated space.