Chapter Text
"Child," a disembodied voice echoed through the Doodlesphere. Papers shook, islands trembled and all, if subconsciously, raised their shackles. Except one.
A lone skeleton turned to the direction of the feminine masculine voice. Colourful, yet sorrowful eyes met the distinct emptiness, where one should be. In the long, agonising megaannum (yes, that is a real word, I looked it up) he had spent without them her him it, he hadn't thought he would hear him her it them again.
"Mother," a gravelly, unused voice called out in response. While he still had a method of gaining emotions, he barely held back from withholding all of his paints. Emotions were too much these years.
"I've come bearing a proposition, if you would," the voice sounded slightly cunning, if not forcefully so, "I believe this multiverse no longer has a need for a protector, no? I've found the perfect playground for you,"
".." Ink stared on at the spot, where he imagined Mother would be.
A sigh echoed through his skull, "Darling, there is no need to be so reluctant. I will take care of your little multiverse,"
"..."
".."
Ink felt as if he was getting the Mum Stare™.
".."
"..As you wish Mother," Ink grumbled ever-so sufferingly.
Suddenly, a disembodied hand claws fins talons vines nails limb stretched out in front of Ink. It flexed, as if hypnotising him to put his hand on it. Maybe it partially worked, because even as he felt as if he were making the biggest most dangerous decision of his life, he still grasped Mothers hand.
It was boiling hot and freezing cold at the same time. it both hurt and healed. In the back of his mind, he registered how her his their its broke his hand, in the grip it sported. One moment he was something, the next, nothing, then all of the sudden everything, and null again. It continued on and on, nonstop. He even felt how his skull was being reconstructed in Fa-Mothers favour.
He didn't know how, or when, but he apparently passed out, because he suddenly awoke to a lush green forest.
What?
His mind usually always kept something from him, but this was a bit much. He remembers brooding in the Doodlesphere and then-nothing. Not even the flash of what he experienced or did. Just blank. That was strange, because currently, his memory at least gave him hints, of what he did. Like sensations, or emotions. Sometimes even Deja-vu!
Now though? Nothing.
..
What was going on..?
..
He heard the stead-fast footsteps of someone, likely a child, maybe even underweight, but he didn't pay attention to that. If he was lucky, they would just pass by, and he could continue staring at the canopy of the seriously healthy forest. He hadn't seen one this beautiful in decades!
He simply sighed when he heard the footsteps abruptly stop, alongside a gasp. The skeleton hoped the child would simply leave him alone.
Ink deemed his luck famished, when the child continued to step forward, quickening their steps till he could see their concern-filled eyelights. Huh, t'was a skeleton. Hopefully, he won't get dragged up in the main plot, annoyingly enough, the skeletons were usually the main protagonist.
They both simply stared at each other, one scanning the other for any injuries, while the other stared on, as if he could see through the child.
Hesitantly, a small hand extended towards Ink. He continued staring on, even inching away from the slightly dirty phalanges. The action visibly hurt the skeleton, purple eyelights shrinking ever-so slightly.
With a deep-suffering sigh, Ink heaved himself up, resting his arms on his knees. The skeleton jumped from the sudden movement, before finally checking in with the stranger: "..Uh, are you okay? You seem a bit.. Roughed up," the child motioned to his own head. Ink blinked, checking his skull-cracks. Spiderweb like cracks all over. Tracing one, he felt how it went from his neck, to his cheek, forming a hole. He simply sighed, before searching for Broomie. A truly stupid name. A name made by his former self.
The little alley he awoke in was strewn in warm sunlight, illuminating every single flower and grass blade. Besides all of the nature, no Broomie. He groaned, low and annoyed. It always took so much energy to make it again. He would say it was ridiculous, but it was
the tool of creation, so he would let it pass.
He looked back to the young one, only to be greeted by a horrified stare. He raised his eyebrow, not noticing how his skull slightly chipped from the minor action. That, for some reason, was greeted by a horrified squeal.
Ink was ready to ask, as much as he dreaded it, but got interrupted the moment he attempted to open his mouth. "D-don't! Uhh," the boy struggled, "please, don't do that again," His plea was met with a blank stare. "The uhh, you just spun your head, like an owl.." he seemed very reluctant to say that, as if the mere thought terrified him. Ink just blinked at him, and started to get up, ignoring the numerous cracks that echoed through the forest, much to the boys dismay.
If Ink ignored the steady, unrelenting stiffness, he felt pretty much okay.
Silence lingered between the two skeletons, before the child interrupted it: "I'm Nightmare, what do you call yourself?" the boy swung on his heels, emitting so much awkwardness, that it could be considered an aura. Wait a second.. He recognised that name from somewhere..
Images of a horrible coldness, black, curling tendrils, pain, so much pain, and a cyan eyelight flickered in his mind. He quickly shook it off though. It had to be a coincidence, right? There was no way that this was Passive Nightmare, right? But, looking back, he did
resemble Passive, only this one wore a more.. Simplistic outfit.
Huh.. Wait a damn minute! If this multiverse, or universe maybe, has an alternative version of Nightmare, then there had to be one if himself too! So, he would have to think up of a nickname he could give himself. Soo, something similar to ink.. Well, its a pigment for starters.. It stains easily, just like charcoal.. Wait, Char! Sounds a bit.. Emo, but he doesn't expect to gain a lot of connections,that would use it so it would be fine.
Ink-Char tuned back in just in time to see Nightmare grow even more
concerned, if that was even possible.
The newly-dubbed Char, ever-so reluctantly, shared his name:"Char," The boy seemed shocked to hear it-or his unused, gravelly voice-but, he hid it well enough with a graceful bow.
"I'm pleasured to make your acquaintance, Char," the name sounded both wrong, and right, but it was too late to change that now, "I suggest we return to the city now, no? I could offer medical care..?" the boy faltered at the end, clearly unsure if Char would even take this opportunity.
But all he got in return was an ever suffering sigh, accompanied by a 'c'mon then' gesture.
Nightmare all but beamed-if his little, slightly smug smile meant anything-and started to lead the way.