[Michael blinks under the sudden shower of water droplets and, before he can fully register that it's not an attack, teleports. It's instinct. Like Sans, he's always lived with magic. Faerun hasn't given him any new tricks; if anything, it's limited him. He could rewrite reality once - only his own little pocket, but that was down to bureaucracy as much as anything else.
(He remembers being an Architect fondly. The specifics are a little hazy, but that isn't important now.)
Unlike Sans, his Misty Step is still the basic version, the kind where he needs to look where he's going. So instead of backing off as he might have preferred, he ends up further down the staircase. Turning, he peers back up at the skeleton. What was that all about?]
omg yes
(He remembers being an Architect fondly. The specifics are a little hazy, but that isn't important now.)
Unlike Sans, his Misty Step is still the basic version, the kind where he needs to look where he's going. So instead of backing off as he might have preferred, he ends up further down the staircase. Turning, he peers back up at the skeleton. What was that all about?]