Feeling Reborn

T - Week 7

Why? Because his two adorable children wanted to visit the park. For good reason, too: they'd been cooped up in that small apartment for a week and a half, and no matter how spacious it was compared to their previous arrangements, they wanted out. And Erratum understood. Completely.

(He didn't let himself dive too deeply into the logic of the Anti-Void. It had always given him a sort of a headache if he looked past the basics.)

And now Erratum was stuck on a slide. A long, curly tube slide which, surely, was not meant for adults or anyone his size, even though his width was probably half the size of a healthy adult skeleton.

For the second time in his life, he cursed his long limbs for being so, well, long, and struggled to untangle a foot from the mouth of the slide. And when he managed to hook another section of his leg onto a handle, he sighed in defeat and let gravity drag his upper torso deeper into the plastic abomination, in hopes of Nil dragging him out of this mess.

Nil, bless his little soul, did try his best. He climbed up halfway through the claustrophobic caterpillar and tugged at his sweater, while Deviate scrabbled at the entangled limbs in a futile attempt to disengage him from the deathtrap. Needless to say, they were unsuccessful.

And then Fresh popped in. Not with his usual teleportation tricks, just a rad greeting from the slide's entrance, because Erratum was in another world.

He was almost disappointed.

That feeling disappeared rather quickly, though, when Fresh burst out in his trademark lingo.

"Wassup, broski?" He said. "Seems like ya caught your rad self in a not-so-radical hole. Need some help?"

Erratum scowled at the newcomer, squirming around a little more before giving up. "FiNe. Do wHat yOu mUsT, jUsT Get mE tHe fUcK ouT of HerE."

"Whoa there partner! Watch dat language, don't wanna ruin these cool dudes over here," he exclaimed. Of course. If Fresh couldn't censor, he would obviously rebel against the use of profanities.

"FucK yOu, AnD i'M nOT yOuR pArTnEr Or yOUr 'brOSki.'"

"Das a helluva attitude, brah! Might wanna wash out your mouth," Fresh reprimanded, gently clamping his hands over the sides of Nil's head.

Erratum grumbled. As much as he wanted to teleport away and ignore this abomination of a Monster, he had a sense of duty to Nil and Deviate. And to his self-preservation.

And to Fresh. Try as he might, he could never hate his own blood, no matter the universe.

"I'LL stOp sWeAriNg iF yoU hELp mE OuT oF hERe," he offered.

The alternate Fresh shuddered, pushed up his sunglasses, and started heaving his light frame up the slide. He didn't recoil from the touch.
-----
Erratum was out in a matter of minutes. He and Fresh sat on the edge of the sandpit while Nil and Deviate giggled and built sand poffs only to destroy them moments later, cheerily oblivious to their caretaker's embarrassment and weariness. Needless to say, they were starting to look like sand piles themselves.

Fresh, of course, was the first one to engage in small talk.

"So, my hip broski, I never caught your name. Mine's Fresh. Totally tubular, amirite?" He asked.

"ErrAtUm." He made his response as dry and bland as possible. The parasite grinned at the verbal acknowledgement, and deemed Erratum a curious enough skeleton to talk with.

After realizing that his conversation partner wasn't going to elaborate, Fresh shifted uncomfortably in his seat before draping an arm behind the bench, rhythmically tapping his fingers along the back.

Usually, in the Anti-Void, Fresh would lose interest in him after a while if he barely paid attention to the parasite. Erratum hoped that this Fresh's programming shared similar lines. He'd hate to spend another eternity figuring out the damn Monster - besides, he preferred keeping his distance between all of these walking, talking memories.

Following his flow of logic, Erratum stubbornly refused to engage in conversation, and ended any attempts Fresh made.

It was like a game of cat and mouse, except the cat was baiting the mouse and not chasing after it, and the cat seemed determined to trap its prey. Fresh pressed on, asking after trivial things like "What's your favorite color?" (with much more 90's flourish, mind you), and to which Erratum would deflect with something like "I don't know, is there supposed to be a difference between them?".

By the time Erratum finally slipped, Nil and Deviate had moved from the sandpit, to the slides and to the seesaw which Erratum was observing with caution in case he needed to stop them from falling off. They didn't, the children were more careful than given credit for, but watching over them gave Erratum a certain peace of mind; this so-called 'park' was full of death contraptions, such as the tube slides to which Erratum stayed far away from.

The separated concentration gave Fresh enough leeway to pry a straightforward answer from the mysterious skeleton's lips.

Fresh asked with a strained grin, "Where would a rad bro like you work?"

"At ThiS sChOoL A FeW BloCKs AwaY," he shrugged. "I Don'T SeE HoW ThiS cOuld bE impOrtANt to YOu."

Fresh practically glowed with joy, and Erratum froze in the chilling realization that he had just lit a growing spark.

"Dude," Fresh said, "gnarly coincidence! I work there. Been chillin' in those halls for two years." He chuckled lightly, putting both arms behind his head. "I can show you the ropes, my radical pal."

At least he didn't use 'broski'. Erratum felt as if he would strangle Fresh if he used a similar term another time. Maybe it was meant to be endearing, or perhaps Fresh's way of greeting people he found fascinating, but that couldn't stop his animosity towards it.

"I ThiNk i'Ll bE BeTtEr oFf BY mYsELF."

"Heh, trying keeping dat chilly vibe of yours, and you won't last a week. The lil' dudes will eat you up, catch my drift?" Fresh emphasized his point by miming Pac-Man with one hand and making it swallow the other fist in an abrupt gesture. "Juuust like that. Bada bing, bada boom, you're gone."

Error looked on in confusion. "...SuRE."

"I ain't kidding! I've seen plenty of good people go myself."

"I HavEn't SEen a MonStER EAt anOTher MonsTer HEre, THougH."

"Wait, what?-"

"I SAiD-"

It turned out that he didn't need to repeat what he said. Nil and Deviate came leaping onto his lap, Erratum hiding a small wince at the added pressure.

"Mister dad! There's a truck!" Nil exclaimed, pointing at a colorful vehicle playing a joyful tune from a speaker. The Nice Cream guy stood by the truck, opening his stand.

"Can we have some? Pleeease?"

"uHh..."

Then, they coordinated their attack: two pairs of sinfully adorable eyes pleaded and begged him to buy some. With those guilt-tripping expressions, how could Erratum refuse, even with his hardened SOUL?

Fresh snickered at his predicament.

"Welp, I guess I'll be seeing ya on the flip side; take care, broski!" He sauntered away. Fresh decided that bugging this new delight could wait till next time.

"WaiT A MoMent- GEt BACK HEre YOu LiTtLE SHiT- Okay, OkAy, i'LL GET yOur nIce CReAm..."

----

It's literally the end of September, and I feel like I've meditated enough on whether to post this chapter or not.

Stay safe, everyone!

(September 30, 2021)