Chapter Text
“Hey, do you want to do something?” You asked Ink, who was sitting in your chair, which faced the couch. His eyes rose from his sketchbook, the pencil in his hand halting its scratching.
Ink had once again popped in, this time while you were washing a few dishes in the sink. In all honesty, you found his habit of almost literally dropping in normal now. It was happening often enough that it didn’t bother you anymore. It was just another part of your day. Probably a highlight, in fact.
Though in the back of your mind, you were still concerned that instead of Ink, that other skeleton would appear. Error, the one who had almost taken your life. Your rational mind knew that was absurd; Ink had beaten him (or at the very least, chased him away), and he dropped by frequently enough to drop the probability of the black skeleton messing with you again to pretty much zero.
Still, that didn’t stop an involuntary shiver from trickling down your back every time Ink came over.
“Something? Aren’t we already doing something?” Ink asked.
“Well, yeah, but a different something.” You replied, finishing off on the last dish and draining the sink, rinsing your soapy hands off and drying them on a rag. You turned to face the skeleton and placed your hands on your hips, giving him a playful glare and smile.
Ink closed his sketchbook and put it away, along with the pencil. He sat up straighter, tilting his head.
“What something do you have in mind?”
“Well since you asked-“You dashed out of the room, only to reappear seconds later with a box in your hands and your face almost giving off its own light. The box was thin and square, made of some type of dark wood. Ink sat up more, the confused look on his face only growing deeper.
“What is that?” He asked with thinly veiled interest. It certainly looked like just a thick plank of wood to anyone who didn’t know what it was. But you knew.
With a clunk, you set the box on the coffee table and sat across from him, composing yourself before looking up at him with a somber expression.
“This box is very special.” You said, gesturing to the box. Ink looked down to the box then back at you, being pulled in by your suddenly serious aura.
“Some say it is imbued with the wisdom of many a person, and that its history stretches across centuries, when it was first made in ancient China, as a gift to an emperor.” You placed your hands on the box and gently lifted off the top. Ink leaned forward, now fully interested in what this something was.
“Chinese checkers!” You said, grinning from ear to ear. The inside of the box held a simple wood board, with a plastic bag holding the marbles sitting to the side. Ink became still for several seconds, his features becoming stone, as if he had turned into a statue. You waited for a reaction.
A bubble of laughter burst from Ink, as he bent over and wheezed. His booming laugh filled the room, and you laughed along as well. He had never let out any noise like that before, and it both surprised and pleased you. The build-up was perfectly executed, judging by how positively Ink reacted.
After his laughing fit died down, Ink was still overcome with silent giggles that shook his frame. He was leaning on one arm of the chair for support, wiping his eyesockets like tears were forming there.
“Oh my stars.” He breathed, covering his mouth with one hand, supporting his skull with the other.
“I actually didn’t think it was that funny.” You confessed. Ink waved your words away.
“It was the dramatics leading up to it that got me laughing.” He explained with his voice still soft and almost hiccup-like from aftershocks.
“Glad you liked it.”
“Oh, yes. That was great.”
“Do you want to play it?” You questioned, reaching to take the pieces out but waiting for his answer.
“I don’t really know how to play.”
“Oh that’s fine.” You said nonchalantly, waving away his words like he did before.
“It’s almost totally the same as regular checkers, there’s just the ability to play with six people. You’ll do fine.”
Ink frowned.
“I mean, I don’t know how to play checkers. At all. What even is checkers?”
~
After explaining the rules of the game to Ink, you played a few rounds with him. He did mess up every once in a while, forgetting rules and such, but he caught on quickly and soon you had lost a few games to him. The atmosphere was almost the same as when you had exchanged a pun war with the skeleton. Neither of you were backing down, and both of you had lazy grins on your faces, while behind it you were both giving it all you had.
It was a bit silly how competitive you were, since it was a simple game of checkers. But this was what friendship really felt like. To be able to compete with the person and still be friendly after, no matter who won or lost.
“Hey, how’s the wife and kids?” You said jokingly, moving one of your men closer to one of his, still too many spaces away to hop over.
“Ah, they’re doing well. Yours?” Ink asked, moving a different man over one of yours. You growled and hopped over one of his men, getting closer to the triangle before answering.
“Absolutely great.”
You both then lapsed into silence, focusing on the game. Ink was putting up some good strategy, but you had seen holes in it and had gotten farther than him. You occupied four spots in his triangle, while he only occupied two.
Currently, you were tied with Ink in games won. This game, though unspoken, was the tiebreaker. Whoever won this one was the winner here.
You needed to faze him somehow. Yep, you were going to play dirty. Competition really did bring out the worst in you.
But what to faze him with? Ink would appreciate puns, and he had many interesting ways to use wordplay in his favour. You had to think a bit before answering, so that was out. It had to be something that he needed to think hard about. Maybe quantum physics or why there were so many different kinds of pasta. Well, it had to be something. You wanted to win!
“Where do you go when you aren’t here?” You asked, moving a checker and waiting for his move. As you anticipated, Ink froze like a statue, with no movement whatsoever.
“Why do you want to know?” Ink’s voice sounded strained, and he sat back without moving a checker.
You hadn’t meant to go down this path. Well, you had meant to. But his reaction made you want to not continue.But here you were. A frown made its way across your face as the atmosphere went from competition tense to awkward tense. You sat back as well, hands clasped together.
“You don’t live here. In this place; this world. You do things somewhere else. While that is pretty far out in my understanding of the inner workings of the universe and all that jazz, it still can intrigue me. You aren’t human; you are some sort of, um, monster,” You flinched at how callous you sounded saying that word.
“Not in that sense. Just… ugh. You are a mystery, something different. Can’t you at least humor my curiosity and tell me one thing about your life? It could be your favourite food, for all I care. You know more about me than I do about you.” This was going nowhere. You were spinning in circles, trying to recover some sort of intelligence. Ink’s face had smoothed into a blank, unreadable expression as you had been talking. The only indication that he was listening was his stare, fixed on your eyes. His eyes brewed with thought, and silence descended as you shut yourself up and waited for him to voice his thoughts.
“Where I live is… complicated.” Ink finally said, his gaze now not drilling into your eyes, but rather somewhere above your hairline. He spoke slowly, as if talking about it was painful.
“Picture a still pond. Then, imagine lilies in the pond. The leaves and flowers are all interconnected, their roots tracing to a single point. I float just above and in the water, like a frog. I travel to each lily, discovering new ones and meeting other frogs.
“Error is a trout. Or maybe a better metaphor would bird. He doesn’t care about the lilies or their beauty, and he certainly doesn’t care about the frogs. He cares about himself, about the pond being still and pristine, with nothing to distort the surface. He tries to destroy the lilies and tries to get rid of the frogs.” Ink closed his eyes, grimacing.
“I try to stop him. I search for his glitches, the traces he leaves behind. I have allies that help me, but he has allies too. It’s been a long time since I’ve gotten as close as I did those months ago. This universe is special, and so unlike anything I’ve seen. It’s almost like…” Here Ink trailed off and opened his eyes; they were now focused on your chest. Specifically, where your SOUL had hovered that one time ago. Then he shook his head and chuckled.
“No, I’m being foolish.” He smiled and shrugged.
“Well, that wasn’t a good analogy at all. I’m guessing you are more confused now, huh?”
You put a hand up to your hair, running your fingers through it absentmindedly.
“No. Well, yes. Kind of. I mean, metaphor slash analogy stuff hasn’t always been my forte, but I get it. Mostly.” You sighed.
“Thanks, Ink. That was a lot more information than I even expected you to give me. Even if it was in quasi-riddle form. It looked like it was hard for you to tell me.” You said, nodding in affirmation at him. The skeleton put his hand on his neck and didn’t answer. You stood up and clapped your hands.
“Well, I guess we’ll call this my win. I am closer to winning than you.” You began to pick up the board, a hidden smile on your face. The board was then covered in a rainbow glow and put itself firmly back down on the coffee table. You raised your eyes to Ink challenging gaze.
“Who said this was over? I can still beat you.” He smiled, and you knew then that the delicate mood was gone.
After all, you two still had a game to finish.