Chapter Text
Error likes to think that he is a pretty reasonable person. He isn’t known for playing favorites. No, not at all. In fact, when asked which brother – between Geno and Fresh – he favored more, he simply would shake his head, clear his throat ever so exaggeratedly and address them both as equally identifiable airheads. And also that he loves them both alike, but he’s never going to admit to that mushy bullshit. He does like Geno’s cooking more, though. He calls Fresh’s cooking ‘an attempt’. An attempt at a failed delicacy.
No, Error does not play favorites, he just has his own personal outlook on certain things. Chocolate is one of those things. Sure, he gets called ridiculous for leaning towards the spicy kind, but he claims that his palate is of higher values and tenderly tells the others that they just wouldn’t understand.
“You all have stupid rad tongues that were made in China!”
“Error, that’s rude! And incredibly prejudiced.” Geno shrieked in response. “I’ll have you know; some China products are actually very convenient!”
Fresh merely watched his older brothers, censoring a few swear words Error spat out as he mindlessly threw out Error’s favorite chocolate. Payback for saying his tongue was China made.
Error also claims that solid chocolate is better than liquid chocolate.
“What about chocolate milk?” Cross’s head tilted, looking over at his friend.
“That’s still milk. Don’t ever disrespect chocolate like that, you uncultured cow.” Error retorted back, knowing that calling him a cow would undeniably offend Cross for the rest of his life.
Speaking of, his best friend Cross would likely approve that Error is a rational person, despite putting up a rough façade and acting pointlessly tough. He admires his way of expressing his own judgement. The darker skeleton would always be dragged into an unsolvable dispute between two people, and when he does, he glares at the two parties and tells them to ‘man up and apologize to each other, time-wasting assholes,’ then proceed to flip them off.
He considered himself very, very reasonable. Geno choosing to get him pink fuzzy slippers instead of the blue one he so utterly desired? Sure, they’re quite comfy anyway, he wouldn’t complain about it. Fresh telling him that he wants to go play basketball together, despite Error planning to stay in and watch a movie the same afternoon? Sounds lovely, just to make the younger happy and hopefully stop bothering him for the next few days.
Perhaps his apathetic nature is misjudged for being fair-minded. Well, who cares anyway? Certainly not Error.
“Are you listening?”
Error was jerked back to his senses, regrettably to Cross’s hand in his right eye socket for whatever good reason the other had. At the instant he felt the wiggling of phalanges, he smacked the other’s invading bony hand away, glaring at the pale skeleton as he recovered his eye light that disappeared due to the colonizing body part. “The fuck, man? That was my personal space.”
“You weren’t listening.”
“Your roaming hand was in my socket! Who knows what your other fucking hand occupied?”
Where was Error anyway? Oh, right. He was in the halls of his high school. It was unusually empty, thank God. Carefully glancing at the large clock to his left, he noticed it was lunch time. Why the hell was Cross attacking his socket at lunch time?
“The next time you sleep in front of me, I’m going to pour ketchup in your sockets and make you look like you died a bloody death.” Cross snickered at that thought, enlightened to know what Geno and Fresh’s reactions would be. Stupid, sadistic skeleton. Error wasn’t even sleeping, he was daydreaming!
What was he daydreaming about, anyway? He recalled thinking that he was a fair person, always giving chances to others for their own benefit, but why?
“Anyway, you were telling me about a new kid? Something about Math class. I don’t know, guess I wasn’t listening either.” Cross informed him, now fidgeting with his phalanges. Feeling Error’s socket had an effect on him.
Right.
Of course.
Some monster took Error’s favorite seat in Math. And he wasn’t exactly delighted about it. The fresh fucker – no, not Fresh – came earlier in the morning to take over Error’s chair. Okay, maybe he was exaggerating a tiny bit. Error is a fair-minded skeleton.
Technically, there was a ‘first come, first serve’ rule in that room, but everyone had their own claimed placements and have been in the same spot since the start of the semester. There were even extra seats, for goodness sake!
When he entered the room that morning, he grimaced at the sight of the other monster in his chair. He was a skeleton too, apparently. His stature was smaller than Error’s. He took note, just in case he decided to pick a fight with him. Over a seat. It would totally be worth it.
Error was definitely a reasonable person.
He observed the pale skeleton. He rocked a black ink stain on his cheek and had rapidly changing eye lights of annoyingly different hues. What was the most observable however, was his huge ass scarf that could serve as a tablecloth for the next Thanksgiving dinner he’d have with his two brothers. Overall, he looked like he brought trouble. Error didn’t like trouble.
Contemplating on whether he should approach him or not, Error settled for taking a seat behind his original, trying to savor in the benefits he once had. His original seat was perfect. It was directly where the air conditioner had fairly shown its purpose, and the sun rays from the window shone through and still warmed him up. It was a beautiful mixture of chilly tenderness, and he fully relished in it. It also gave him a good view of the scribblings on the board. He had bad eyesight, you see, but you would have known that.
Alas, it didn’t feel the same. The chiller wasn’t really in his favor. He perspired more than usual and kept covering the bright sun beams with his hand from reaching his eye lights. He glared daggers at the back of the other skeleton, whose name he forgot. Pink? Link? Definitely not Kink. Oh, for fuck’s sake, it was one of those two. Link sounded like an obvious answer.
He decided he would let Link off that day. He would just have to come very early for the next Math period and reclaim what was his.
Oh, come on.
Error heaved a quiet sigh of displeasure as he marched into his Math class, where the subject taught was to be held during the period after lunch this time. Heck, he even skipped lunch for this! Well, it did make sense. The Link guy was new and probably didn’t have anyone to eat with yet, but still…
Error skipped lunch for this!
He’ll let him go for now, again. He was a fair person after all. He carefully watched the other skeleton in his original pew. Was he doodling on the table surface? With a permanent marker? Error growled at him inwardly. How dare he mark something that didn’t belong to him nor Error?
Whatever. Error took the chair next to Link’s, believing the said place would have been better than his yesterday’s experience.
Oh, he was so, so wrong.
The sun didn’t even consider him. His frozen ass was glued to his chair, and he was forced into experiencing the very generous air conditioner’s full force. He didn’t even bring his jacket that day, out of all days. He tried to keep his shivering to a minimum, struggling to warm himself up by rubbing both his humerus with his hands repeatedly.
He glanced at the smaller skeleton, who was looking back at him, his eye lights showing a triangle in his left socket, and an inverted question mark in the other. Then, they changed into a blue circle and a yellow star, seemingly his signature look. He then unraveled and took off his brown scarf, passing it to Error with a small grin. Error considered snarling at him and flicking the cloth away, but knowing that he had around fifty minutes left of the class, he took the scarf and nodded at the other, attempting to show a sign of gratitude. He’ll forgive him. For now.
Plus, the Link guy was kind of cute. If he wasn’t in his seat, that is.
“My name’s Ink, by the way! Let’s be friends!”
At the end of the period, Error stared at him as he handed his scarf back over to the other after muttering a small ‘thank you’, before the other excitedly introduce himself.
Oh.
His name’s Ink.
Yeah, it makes sense, considering the blotch of ink on his cheek.
Thank God he didn’t outright call him Link. He would’ve suffered a year’s worth of embarrassment if that was the case.
He watched Ink put his scarf back on as he announced himself. “I’m Error, and uh…” He kept watching as Ink struggled with his scarf. “…you’ve been in my seat for two periods now. It’s kind of a bother for me.” He frowned when Ink started making noises; grunts of struggle as he tussled with his cloth. He wasn’t even looking at Error. “Do you... need some help?”
Ink glanced up at him so quickly that he could have snapped his neck. “No, no! I’m good, this is normal.” He adjusted his scarf, sighing a sigh of relief when he finally succeeded fixing it into place. “Just not used to putting it on so quickly, and in front of someone else at that.”
Great, the little bastard totally ignored Error’s statement about his seat.
“Yeah, well, I was saying that-“
“Make sure to bring a coat, just in case. I might get cold too, you know.” Ink grinned at him, oblivious to cutting Error off. He quickly shoved his stationery into his shoulder bag, which he then slung over his shoulder. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
Error watched as the smaller left the room. Before doing the same, he went and sat at his original pew, mumbling incoherent words to himself as he indulged in the familiar vibe his initial place has gifted him for the past few months. He then glanced at the doodle he found on the table. It was an image of a pale dog, with the words ‘I like big mutts and I cannot lie.’ scribbled in the text bubble next to it. Error snorted at the pun as a small smile formed on his face, clearly enjoying the other’s wit.
He was still going to get his seat back, though.