Work Text:
When Ink finds the large vast of whiteness, he decides that won't do and gets his paints.
Yellow is the first he coats his fingers with. A joyful color that greets the monsters when they emerge from the Underground, sparks of positivity that run through the Multiverse. He glides his fingers in a circle first, peppering tiny starbursts across the canvas. He uses the orange to compliment it, creating careful lines and waves.
Blue is quite the common color in the Multiverse, Ink finds. It's the color most associated with a Sans after all, that cool color draped over his shoulders. It's found in many other places though, oceans and scarves, souls and eyes. The great sky above.
He slathers his fingers in the color then, bracing himself as he stands on the tips of his toes and makes long, thin lines atop the canvas. They swoop down and up like waves, painting over the white sky. He takes a lighter color with one finger, a slightly greener color with the other. The lighter color he swirls around the yellow stars, creating careful spirals. The greener color he trails over the opposite end of the canvas. He smashes his fingers down to create a large blotch before dragging them out to make more curving lines that stretch across the canvas.
Red is a bright and bold color. Determination, the will to keep going. He swirls it around his fingers and paints careful shapes near the sprawling green-ish loops. On the other side making careful waves of red.
Purple is a calm color, a gentle one. He peppers it round both sides, making strikes of lightning in the ground, sharp half-circles, intermingling it with the red. The colors catch onto each other, wet paint dragging onto his fingers to create new and exciting shades.
He squeezes the color black directly onto the canvas. An all-encompassing color that so closely resembles his namesake, and he uses it as he pleases. He smashes it over the green-ish color, tracing over the lines and flicking his fingers at the end to make sharp lines that lead on in wild directions. He smears that side of the canvas in darkness, making sharp strokes with his fingers. The shadows stretch towards the opposing side as if they beckon.
When he steps back there are still spots of white, so he squeezes all of his paint tubes out, gathers colors on each finger and filling in the spots. Red's and yellow's and blues are streaked across the canvas, a rainbow of color left in his wake.
When Ink looks at the freshly painted mural he smiles, admiring the multiverse he loves so much.