Collection of Oddities

Two Positives Make A Negative (6.2)

A distant memory surfaced shortly. Infinite islands stretching out into a vast void of warm-colored hues and soft cream clouds, specific sections littered by numerous hanging white paper sheets, and a distinct hint of crayon/paint wafting in the air. Dream could practically picture himself standing there facing Cross.

The monochrome warrior stood a few feet ahead dressed in full armor, leaning tiredly against the knife-sword buried in the ground in front of him. Dream, his yellow tank-topped and grey-shorted trainee, drooped in place- shoulders sagged and spine as straight as a weeping willow; more than a little too lazy to move. The lump hidden beneath the guardian's shirt barely showed, but the sweat dripping down his skull and staining his clothes was more than enough proof his magical and physical capabilities were hindered by something. Both were flush in the face (purple and yellow respectively) and panting from their most recent activities: sword and attack formation practice. Their efforts evident by the sheer amount of bone attacks and red magic knives adorning the miniature training ground.

Dream glanced off to the side, admiring the Doodlesphere's unique qualities while catching his breath. Even the less than enjoyable ones. (Why Ink thought flying spaghetti dragons were a neat addition to the Doodlesphere, he would never know.) After several seconds passed, his yellow eyelights drifted back over to Cross, who had since abandoned his position on the other side of the island and begun casually approaching.

A small smile spread across the weary skeleton's jaws when his mentor came to a halt beside him. An action that the swordsman returned in kind, causing his own smile to widen a fraction further. Despite the long training session, Cross seemed to have mostly recovered; his breath steady and purple flush a mere whisper compared to bright shade it had been moments ago. The knife-shaped blade he wielded found itself returned to his back, securely strapped in place, where it could rest until he decided to call upon its aid once more. Meanwhile, Dream stood there with a discarded short sword next to his feet, cracks splintering down its sides and chips littering the blunt edges. The exact opposite of Cross' pristine blade.

A minuscule, definitely barely noticeable part of the guardian felt jealous. But solely because he wanted nothing more than to fall on his bed and never get up while Cross was already up and moving again. How did the other manage stretching his invisible muscles after a workout like that? He hardly fathomed doing it. Everything ached- from his metatarsals to everything in between there and his blistered phalanges. And, if Dream didn't know any better, he might even say his aches had aches.

Suddenly, a hand holding a simple-wrapped chocolate bar appeared under his nose and startled him out of his thoughts. The delicious, sugary delight called to his magic like a siren to a sailboat. Or perhaps his souling's magic? It was rather hard to distinguish who was craving what during the pregnancy thus far. Still, the yellow orbs in the exhausted skeleton's eye sockets were hesitant to trail past the sweet and to the face of his friend.

"Here. For your HP. I'm sure you need it after the number we did on this poor place." The corners of Cross' eye sockets crinkled in amusement, positive feelings (mirth, happiness, care) swelling in his soul as he voiced the offer.

A hand shot forward with renewed vigor, snatching up the food item and drawing it to Dream's skull. Then the chocolate disappeared from between the phalanges so quickly that one would need to slow time to watch the split second his incisors/molars parted to witness it vanishing. A light snicker caused the yellow dusting his cheeks to burn brighter. No longer did Cross wear an expression of shock when Dream ate candy, wrapper and all. Instead, amusement seemed to overpower any other feeling about the matter. If not evident by his laughter.

While Cross tried (unsuccessfully) to stifle the joyous sounds by placing a hand over his teeth, the guardian sputtered a "T-thanks." His eyelights drifted to anywhere other than the warrior's face. Coincidentally, bring him to examine the battle-ruined isle. "But couldn't you have gone easier on me? You know I haven't done anything like this before."