The glitch, and the blot. {Sorta Errink}

...error (2)

both the skeletons are created with cloaths. I might have forgotten to mention that.

(also going off one of Zarla's headcanons for HandPlates)

he sat down cross-legged on the antivoid floor and put his skull in his hands. he sighed, he was trying to think. he was trying to think about what would happen next, would he be stuck here forever? he didn't want that.

he gripped his skull a little harder, trying to block out the voice that was still screaming at him. he sat like that for a while, he pressed harder still. he settled for squeezing his two hands against the sides of his face. it helped quite a bit actually.

he let out a bored moan and flopped down onto his back. his arms and legs stuck outwards. his eyes looked empty and he began to cry. fat tears rolled down his cheeks and gathered on the floor beside him. he wasn't sad, he just wanted to cry.

"pathetic error" the voice called him. the voice was right, in a way. he probably wasn't supposed to destroy that paintbrush. but it felt so good. so right. like that was what he was meant to do in the first place. he smirked.

he wanted to destroy more things, to see more ash. but there was nothing for him to destroy. as much as he tried he couldn't even scratch the floor. he was getting desperate now. he longed for that feeling of power and that rush of magic energy.

he looked at his arms, a grin forming on his face. as an experiment, he dragged his phalanges across his left ulna, blood and marrow followed. his pupils lit up in excitement. he yanked his arm off of his socket and threw it on the floor in front of him. 

who needed an arm if he was never going to use it. he'd be stuck here forever, so what's the problem?

he summoned his blaster, it sparked from the mouth three times. he raised his right hand as if to fire the blaster, but he stopped. he felt something curling and attaching itself to each of his digits. he looked at his hands.

blue wire-like cables had appeared on his fingers. he looked at his hand in wonder, is power craving momentarily forgotten. he felt the cables on his fingers, they were cold and stiff, like wires. they curled up his fingers and met his face. the ends were sharp, like barbed wire. 

he jolted back to reality when he sat down and tried to lean on his other hand, which was still on the floor in front of him. he suddenly remembered how much he wanted to destroy his own limb.

without consent (or so he thought) his hand shot out and the blue cables raced to meet the abandoned bone laying in front of him. without hesitation, the cables raced to its target and pierced right through the bone.

oh my good god it hurt. 

the cables retracted as if they had known they did something wrong. the skeleton was left shaking and sweating, as he sat there, limp. his head hung low, trying his best not to cry.

he flung himself forward to grab the limb, re-attached it and cradled it against his chest, all while the voice called him names. the pain never really went away. it just stung all the time.

he found out he could open portals with his cables. it was like tearing a piece of paper, only he was tearing a hole in the universe. 

UUUUUU B R B