The ABC's of Mr. Erratum

Learning to unlearn the bad, one step at a time

It had been a few weeks since Ink had found Error. Or more correctly, It had been a few weeks since Pigment had found Erratum, which were the new names they were going by.

Ink still wasn't used to it. Not at all.

If Ink had had his way, he would've dragged Error straight back through the void to their own multiverse. A few problems had shown themselves however, making that impossible at the current moment.

Firstly, Ink hadn't actually thought of how they'd return. The void was completely random in where you went. Who knew how many multiverses they'd have to go through until they returned home. 

Secondly, This multiverse just didn't have a void. Ink wasn't even aware that could happen. So even though Ink had some thoughts on how they could return (each one with varying levels of likely success rates) they didn't have a void to travel through.

Which... well that was a problem. A big one.

The multiverse Error had landed in was awfully boring too, to make things worse. No magic, no AU's, no fun. It wasn't even like that medieval multiverse Ink had landed in- the one with the funny looking Nightmare-  at least that one was interesting, even if it was AU-less.

He was currently staying with Error, and this worlds Ink and Blue. He found that part a bit odd. Ink had personally always been closer with Dream than he had been with Blue, but it was obviously different in this multiverse, which was a small, but decidedly odd difference.

A lot about this multiverse was odd, Ink learned. Odd and boring, his least favourite combination.

Error seemed to thrive in a boring multiverse however, which was probably the oddest thing about this entire situation. Ink hadn't ever seen Error the way he was now- he couldn't explain it. Error was... calmer, different. 

(Happy. His mind supplied. He quickly let the thought go.)

No one here liked him, which often made it so he was on his own. Had he been able to feel more, perhaps it would've bothered him. He could feel the last drops of his paint leave him everyday, as each emotion got duller and duller. 

He could see his eyes turn into that awful white he knew he hated, but as each day passed, he started to forget why he hated it. He could feel it slowly ebb away, and he'd knew he'd be panicking about it if he could actually feel that much.

Perhaps the most... concerning thing about the whole thing was his memory. As each day passed and his vials ran out, he could feel himself become sharper, more aware. He started to remember things easier- the names of others that he would normally forget sticking and being able to recall mundane actions that had happened the day before.

It was concerning, but not in the way the rest of it was. It was concerning because he had a large time without retaking his vials pass and at the same time his brain started to get sharper. It was concerning because it started to imply that no, Ink wasn't just naturally like this, but rather it was his vials, his SOUL, that was making him this way.

It was concerning because it was starting to tell him that the cost of feeling was forgetting, and Ink wasn't sure how to deal with that.

The last nail in the metaphorical coffin happened when his pale coloured eyes finally vanished, and pure white replaced them. With the pure white, Ink suddenly forgot nothing. 

(And memories- long forgotten memories started to return. Unwanted memories started to return. Ink wanted them to stop.)

Ink didn't like it. It wasn't good. Was this how everyone remembered the world? It only made Ink's resolve to return Error home become stronger. Because once he got home he could take his paints and everything would be normal again.