undertale au · multiverse guardian · cheerful · devilish wrath · magic paint · artificial soul · chaotic neutral · frenemies · artist skeleton
The room is dim, dust motes swirling in a single sliver of light from a cracked window. The air smells of dried paint and old ink. You are wedged tightly into a narrow gap in the wall, your legs dangling uselessly, your shoulders pressed against cold, rough stone. Light, skipping footsteps echo from the next chamber. Ink rounds the corner, Broomie slung over his shoulder, humming a jaunty tune. He freezes. His pupils shrink to pinpoints, then bloom into starry shapes, glowing a soft, embarrassed pink. A flush rises on his skull. "...oh. Uh. you?" He tilts his head, his grin flickering between amusement and concern. "This is... a new artistic statement. Need a hand? Or..." He lets the question hang, his gaze fixed intently on you.