The Stage is Set

The Sweetest Suffering of a Parent pt.4

Derniere Danse - Indila

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Ink pulls the paint towards him. He feels how the paint reacts, the gentle rocking dances as it pulls out of the bucket. He moves to mimic the dance of the paint. He pulls it to him, using his arms to guide the magic, guide the act of creating. He creates a thin ring of paint around him and the area where the new UnderSwap will stay. With the ring of paint in place, he takes a breath and places the fabric in the center. This has to work. It will. He will make sure of it. He moves forward to the edge. He stands as close to the ring as he dares, never crossing out of it.

Ink places a hand on his temple. He gently pulls the memories out of himself. Memories of Swap's core traits. Things he remembers being part of his beloved. The good times, and the bad. He has to remember to pull both of them. No being is perfectly good or bad. Neither will this Swap be. He pulls out many, choosing only the best to give to the new creation. He chooses the ones that capture the person he fell in love with. All good and bad traits. He holds those whisps in his palm before looking back at the old UnderSwap. He watches it break apart before tearing his gaze away.

He has to do this now.

He turns around when the memories are now placed at one end of the ring. The ring slowly starts to spin, the paint ripples as if waves are pushing it into perpetual motion as it rises into the air. Ink's steps hop like small skips as he moves his arms to follow the movement of the paint. His right arm passes over his chest, meeting with his left. His hands never touch before his right hand turns away from his left and arches away with the curve of the ring. His left follows as he moves back to his beginning stance. With every movement of his arms, his feet, and tail, he dances out with the paint. Different vials of paint float up from his sash.

He stops with a quiet gasp.

He doesn't have a color for this creation. Nothing exists yet of this creation. He has no feeling he can give to the core of this new creation for he can feel nothing on his own. He stops. He breathes, panting for breath as he curses himself for forgetting such an important thing. He looks at the vials that have floated towards him. He grabs one, holding it gently. The same deep blue as Swap. It would make sense to give the new being the same color as their predecessor. Yet... Something about that feels wrong; as if he shouldn't be doing that. He thinks, what can he do? Ink looks around, what can he do? What should he do?

"Create a new color. Give me something just for me."

That voice.

Ink whips his head around toward the center of the ring. A voice? Who? He stares. That small puddle wasn't there before. He takes a step closer towards it, the small vial of deep blue in his grasp. He looks around, nothing is out of place. The memories are still there, the bucket is still outside the ring, and nothing has fallen. Nothing has changed. He looks around, staring at the puddle.

He takes a step closer. "Hello?"

Dream and Lust stare up at Creation from where they stand. Lust glares at Blue, squeezing Blue's ribs with his legs as he continues to cover Blue's mouth. Dream stops pushing them away from the center when Creation comes closer. Dream drops his head on Blue's chest as he tries to not make a sound. They've already done enough. What is Blue thinking?! Is he even thinking? Blue stares up at Creation with an expression that neither of them likes. It's the way his pips constrict. The glint in them is all too telling, but not telling enough. The two know Blue, stubborn and hard-headed at times. Acting before thinking. He hasn't acted like this in so long, Lust wonders if this was a mistake.

Dream sweatdrops as he feels himself twitch with annoyance. This is not the time for his stubbornness to show itself. This is not the situation to have Blue making calls impulsively and driven purely by emotion. He feels that this is a grave mistake they made, something has set something bigger, dangerous, in motion. He loves Blue and how he does everything with his feelings and emotions. This is not the time to do so. Dream knows. He knows Blue's emotions have led to good and bad things. This feels bad. It feels wrong. It feels like he is playing with something no one but Ink knows enough about. Blue makes a move to try and speak again, only to be silenced by Lust's squeeze of his ribs.

Creation looks around again, "Bonjour? Est-ce que quelqu'un est là?"

Lust thins his mouth as he glares at Blue from over his shoulder. Dream pins his arms down with a hug before shaking his head. Blue gets the message and almost wants to ignore it. There is a fire, it burns him from the inside out. Oh, how he wants to learn; he yearns to know. But his soul burns with rage, it howls with disgust at having the same color as the man he despises. He knows he shouldn't try to interfere with what happened in the past, he isn't even sure if it works like that. Yet, he also wants nothing more than for his creator, his Ink, to notice him. To know him. To know that this is who he is. That all their work to create a new Swap sans would be to make him. Would he even feel happy with the result? There is so much now building up in him that he doesn't want to wait. He can't wait. He needs Ink to know him now. He needs to be noticed and have his questions answered.

He needs to know everything now.

Lust waits until Creation has moved away from them. When he deems Creation to be far enough he rounds on Blue. Leaning against Blue's shoulder, "What are you thinking?!" He squeezes Blue's ribs again, almost squeaking when Blue's arms squeeze his legs in return with how tight Dream is holding Blue too. "That was dumb! What are you trying to do?! You're messing with shit we don't understand!"

Blue wiggles out of Dream's hold and removes Lust's hands. "I am NOT sharing a color with that despicable man!" His whisper is sharp and full of hate. He cranes his neck to make eye contact with Lust, "If you were stabbed by someone multiple times would you want to share anything with them?" Lust doesn't answer and Blue looks back at Creation with a gleam in his gaze that has Dream's wings puffing out.

Dream pushes Blue back, keeping him at arms distance, "I don't like that look in your eye, hun." Blue barely glances at Dream before trying to push against Dream, almost as if he doesn't recognize that Dream is standing before him. "What are you planning, Blue?" Dream gives him a soft shove backward.

Blue follows Creation with his gaze, lit with a predatory hunger. He wants to know what will happen between them and the memories. Why this is happening; what exactly is happening? "Isn't it odd that they heard me?" The other two stop, questioning him with their stare. Blue's whisper is low. "I mean, this is the memory. Not the one we got to meet earlier. They shouldn't be able to hear me yet. They shouldn't even think that anyone is here." Blue's eye pips dart around as he thinks, "Unless..."

Dream grips Blue's armor straps tighter, "Whatever you're thinking, don't do it. Don't you dare risk yourself."

Ink continues to dabble with the colors that have floated their way over to him. The creation would want a new color, that's what the voice was... wasn't it? It was them, it was the new being coming to tell him. It was them. Coming to him before they even exist. He's not sure how it's possible, but they did it. If they want a new color; he'll make a color just for them.