Waking up as Ink sans (v1)

SCP 8: insert original title

XXVII

TW: uncanon Dreamtale, well, obviously... But wtv

3rd POV:

Location: The cabin

"So are you ever gonna tell them that you and squid are two different people?" asked Error while he was laying on Ink's fluffy bed, finishing his puppet with a stoic expression. The puppet was Paperjam, he was working on adding the kid's beige scarf with its stained colors of cyan, magenta, and yellow, and his blue jacket that faded to black with a big frown, having started to knit the hardest part of him.

'Why the hell does he have so many details?!' thought annoyed the destroyer as he tried, once again, to do the colors' stain of the scarf.

Ink hummed two seconds, thinking of how he could actually tell everyone the truth. He is not the 'squid' like Error would call him. Now he is the 'midget', even though he hates that nickname, it's easier to tell who is who in their discussions. "I don't think it's necessary for now..." he mumbled, eyeing his body at the mirror.

He picks his white shirt and unfolded it, examining it. The white shirt was full of stain and was obviously dirty, it must have been that way when he was dumped into Nightmare's feet by Killer, dragged nonchalantly on the dirt, and when he tried to crawl away from them. Ink sighed and looks at Error with a pout.

"Error? Can I borrow your jacket?" He looks at the 'artist' with a confused frown, not understanding the meaning of his words, until he saw how dirty his shirt was. He tosses the still unfinished puppet beside him and starts undressing, keeping eye contact with Ink, he throws it on his face and went finishing what he was doing with the puppet.

"Thanks, grumpy!" He exclaimed as he immediately turned around to try the black and blue jacket. Ink gasped at how large it was on his body, the black jacket was ending on his tibia, and the blue sleeves were covering his hands, it was fascinating how small Ink was compared to Error.

"Faster, those two are waiting, I don't want them to fight again..." Ink stopped admiring the jacket and put his pair of thin leggings and his wide brow pant at ungreat speed, not impressing Error as he stares at him blankly, him who had the time to finished Paperjam's doll since then...

"I'm done, let's go!"

The taller sighs as he gets up from the bed and starts heading for the door that has been closed for now one hour. It was certain now, it was either the war or the death behind this door, and all of this was because Ink put three centuries to change clothes and to admire himself on the mirror.

"What are you waiting for, Error?" asked the smaller as he was waiting behind him, the hand with a bag full of dirty clothes and work equipment, and his other clenched on Error's red shirt tightly.

"I swear if I open this door and I see a massacre behind it, I'll blame you and your slow fucking ass." He stated as he slowly opened the door with an unnoticeable shake on his fist.

"No hay necesidad de darle mucha importancia, gruñón." he scoffs, having understood the smaller as he nudges Ink's grip away from his shirt. He was unsuccessful.

What was Dream and Nightmare's doing for the past hour? Oh, that's a good question...

Dream was on the ground holding his leg, crying all the tears that his body had while Nightmare was doing his usual evil laugh at the dark corner of the room, mocking the other guardian with a judgemental eye. And the state of the place...