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Man, we really cry a lot.
This is the third time today.
MK (non-ink) was sitting on the floor beside his bed, curled in a shivering ball. It was evident by his arm movements that he was actively trying not to do it, and it was getting a little annoying to Ink, hearing him talk to himself and try to snap himself out of it.
“What’re you even crying for”, “this is so stupid”, and the like were these mutterings.
Ink, personally could not care less what a person did with their life unless he was actively using that against them to torture their mind and stuff.
Though MK had promised to smash him into the ground if he ever did that again. And Ink wasn’t too keen on being reduced to a puddle again.
He just wished MK would stop crying faster. It was getting awkward hearing stifled ugly-crying and just sitting there in the corner of the room on the shelf behind MK.
Ink made a face. Humans, which MK is not, but I’ll play devil's advocate for a second, cry a lot. That’s obvious enough. Usually when they cry faster, they stop faster. That’s also obvious.
If this idiot would just let himself cry like normal, he’d be better off for it.
He pinched the bridge of his nose and looked over his fingers with exasperated eyes. Alright, let's just get this over with.
Ink let himself go limp and evaporated into the air, floating over to where MK was and surrounding his head.
MK noticed and tried to shake Ink away. If you’d just sit still, I could literally speed this up!
It took a few seconds of swirling around his head to actually get it to work. Ink exhaled.
Huh, body possession is weird.
…Oh wait, I had a reason for this.
He could feel MK trying to regain control, a myriad of energy building up inside them both.
Ink felt the built-up sensations of crying as well and simply let them out.
MK’s consciousness and body understood what was happening and tried to use their hands to stop the crying from happening, from releasing that much emotion, but Ink didn’t let MK do that. MK’s hands clenched in frustration when he realized that Ink had the majority of the control.
This wasn’t technically his body, but Ink let him, let MK, cry. And not much thought went into this besides I want you to get done with crying faster, but to anyone who knew their history knew this was unorthodox behavior.
Ink’s purpose was really just to cause as much pain and suffering as possible, Ink’s purpose was only to be a nuisance. A considerable one at that. One that had a 95%-ish chance of giving you PTSD if targeting you. And as a curse, he was supposed to.
He had given MK more trauma, and it wasn’t even like he felt guilty about it. Ink wasn’t capable of feeling guilt or anguish, only capable of causing it. He was meant only to crave a sense of growing chaos, a sense that he needed a high from getting that reaction out of his victims. And seeing people crying was what he was made for, he was supposed to make them do that. It meant he was doing his job. The only difference here was MK wasn’t even doing it in a way that was fun to watch.
So why was he even doing this in the first place? Possessing MK and making him cry a steady river of tears?
The answer: Ink was selfish.
He was only doing this because he’d get something (the absence of annoyingly disturbing crying) out of it. That was the only reason. And yet somehow this selfishness was helping.
(It felt kind of gross to think he was helping, actually.)
The sensation of pressure behind MK’s borrowed eyes was lessening and his throat no longer felt like it was trying to metaphorically explode. Ink looked down at MK’s sweatshirt and saw a gigantic wet spot. Wow, we REALLY cry a lot.
Ink let go of the possession, deeming it enough for now, and floated over to a far corner of the room where MK couldn’t instantly reach him upon release and tear him to shreds.
“WHAT THE HECK WAS THAT FOR??” MK shouted upon gaining control.
“Helping you, us. I thought that was clear from the way I didn’t actually attack you or anything.”
“You LITERALLY just possessed me!!”
“What else is new, buddy?”
“Well, I’m just now seeing that my SHIRT is covered in a gigantic water patch!” He grabbed it and gestured to Ink to make a point.
“And where did that come from?”
“What— from my EYES, of cour— ah.”
“Mhm.” Ink raised his eyebrows in victory.
“So you literally just made me cry. Huh, is that it??” he accused.
“Yes.”
“Was that so you could make me even more vulnerable to torture?”
“The opposite, actually, or maybe the inverse. I possessed you and made you cry so you’d stop annoying me with your pathetic ‘oh my gods, I need to stop crying like an idiot’ nonsense you kept muttering!”
“If you’re lying, so help me I will pull out the staff from my ear and smash you!” MK held his hand behind his ear and glared.
“I know the terms of our agreement, Monkie Kid, chill out. And at least you aren’t continuing with the crying and stuff. You being violent is more pleasant.”
Not wanting to start an actual fight and let Ink win the conversation, MK dropped his hand and crossed his arms. He felt his face and wiped away the gigantic tear tracks there. They were practically the width of his entire eye. He quickly glanced at Ink and then back to the floor.
“You thinking about thanking meee~?” Ink teased, solidifying that he actually had no no intention of being thanked in the first place.
“No. Not even a little bit.”
“Why not, I literally helped you,” he whined sarcastically, “And helping makes me feel gross, that was really more of a benefit to you than me.”
“I didn’t ask you to possess me.”
“Yeah, but don’t you feel… better or whatever? Whatever you… people feel? You’re not a human. I dunno what monkeys feel because they don’t really cry like that. They just chirp.” This part was actually a serious observation; quite rare considering the circumstance.
“That isn’t the point and you know it.”
“Okay, well, according to the book of ‘It Doesn’t Matter About The Point’, I don’t really care.”
“Wow, you are soooo helpful.”
“You’ll thank me eventually.”