Summary: Another year, another chance to prank the Multiverse. (Sequel to "Foolish.")
Error readjusted his red scarf for a sixth time before shedding his iconic blue hoodie, replacing it with a crisp (and maybe slightly burnt from the last he wore it) lab coat. A key element used to pull together his dastardly disguise as one of the more tolerable Sanses in the Multiverse. In addition, he completed some minor code edits to change his well-known shades to the "natural" skeleton white color to give a little extra realism to the whole Geno disguise.
A one-way portal displaying a body-length mirror appeared a foot in front of him. Mismatched eyelights roamed the familiar yet foreign reflection, causing the faux Aftertale Sans to nod in approval at the sight. Though not nearly as breathtakingly handsome as his natural form, Error could dub his guise adequate. His eyelights scaled the reflection from top to bottom again. Make that partially adequate.
A slight shuffling from behind caught the dark-boned skeleton's attention and prompted him to turn toward the slightly static-y sounding source.
In the Anti-Void's ever-present vastness, another code-mangled monster added finishing touches to their own specific Sans disguise. The glitch looked near identical to the bubbly, blue abomination running around with the Star Sanses. Emphasis on "near." Unfortunately, Blueberror could not entirely hide his yellow, star-shaped facial markings. Or he was too attached to the four five-pointed shapes to get rid of them. They had become a pale, almost white yellow hue instead of vanishing like Error's vibrant blue tear tracks.
Aside from that tiny detail, both skeletons wore finished costumes that were more than ready to trick the entire Multiverse and add a special touch to the April 1st shenanigans; mass deception.
Time to drag some reputations through the mud, Error thought when his partner in crime approached.
"Ready-dy?" Blueberror chirped, straightening his disguise's light blue bandana.
"I-I was bo-born ready-y." Snapping his phalanges, he opened a rectangular portal to a sunny, seaside city with cheery monsters and humans bustling about the streets. The destroyer directed a sinister grin towards the unwitting inhabitants, cackling. "Let's cause-cause s-some chaos!"
As the glitch duo's anarchy began, a soul - or, more accurately, a soulless being - sensed a great disturbance in the f̶o̶r̶c̶e̶ AUs.
Ink, who was staking out his own house to prevent a repeat of last year's toilet paper incident, jumped down from his "inconspicuous" hiding spot in a nearby tree, frowning at the sharp pain plaguing his chest. Though it might have been a cause for excitement last year, the unpleasant sting brought a sense of dread.
Sure, fighting Error or any other villainous characters promised to be a thousand times more fun than watching an inanimate building- But would leaving be worth it? The previous year, someone repainted every single area in his house white and moved all his furnishings - even the shower and sinks - onto the ceiling(s) of their respective room after the artist had left. Plus, he still couldn't find the ear-grating grandfather clock that the culprit somehow put in a wall somewhere. Or was it underground? That may explain why neither Dream, Blue, or himself found it yet.
"Well, it can't hurt to at least check it out." Ink reasoned, aloud.
The Guardian of AUs lifted the mighty paintbrush from his back and swung it toward the ground. Its orange paint-dripping bristles splat against the grass then slowly dragged across the lush surface, creating a portal to the distressed universe. A smile crept up Ink's skull as he returned Broomie to his back, allowing him a clear view of his creation. Half buried in the earth was an ornate door that looked as though it was minutes away from melting.
Why an ornate door? Well, why travel by a colorful puddle when one could travel by a door-shaped puddle?
Without hesitation, the artist threw open the fake door, sunk into the glossy substance, and rematerialized atop a coastal tourist trap under a cloudless sky.
The first notable thing, aside from the seagulls pecking at abandoned food, was the sounds of people (humans and monsters) screaming in terror with shrieking sirens in the background; Further inland, some major monster magic in play. Fiery hot lasers and various colored/sized bone attacks shot through the sky like a deadly fireworks display. Neither of which were Error and Nightmare's usual MO. Meaning a new player was on the field.
Either that or someone Ink didn't remember at the moment.
Regardless, a job like this called for backup. The art-loving skeleton summoned a blue flip phone and dialed the number labeled by no more than two emojis- a sun and smiley face.
It barely finished its first ring before a cheery voice answered, "Hello, Ink. Did you manage to catch your prankster, or are you butt-dialing me again?"
"'No' to both questions."
"Oh, then to what do I own the pleasure of this call?" Dream sounded surprised. Just how many times had Ink accidentally called him today?
Probably too many.
"Well, there's this pretty-" Nearby screams followed by a bang akin to a cannon firing echoed across the beach, directing the artist's attention back to the ongoing massacre in the background and reminding him of his mission. "Wait, no, not that. In Undertale no. 93044, there is an out-of-universe monster - possibly a Sans, Papyrus, or Gaster - disrupting the storyline here, and I could use your help cleaning this up before my house is painted white. Again."
"Is the portal still open in the Doodlesphere?"
"Yup! It's somewhere around my house. By one of the trees, maybe?"
"Okay. I'll be right there."
The yellow-clad guardian hopped out of the uniquely shaped puddle not several minutes later, ready for battle. He immediately grimaced and strolled up beside the artist upon hearing (as well as feeling) the chaos and fear.
"Over there?" Dream gestured to the fuzzy blot wreaking havoc in the distance.
Ink nodded. "They've been hanging around the city since I got here."
"Hmm. Can you make some binoculars so we can get a closer look at who we're up against?"
"Sure!" A gloved hand promptly dove into his inventory, returning with a small hardwood paintbrush- Broomie Jr., as Ink liked to call it. Not to be confused with Mrs. Broomie and Broomiette.
The soulless skeleton allowed his magic to flow through the drawing instrument and coat its bristles in black paint, which continuously appeared as he created the requested object on a canvas of air. Sleek black binoculars soon popped into existence after placing the final line. Though quick thinking wasn't their creator's specialty, he managed to hold out a hand to catch them.
Once (safely) in hand, the magnifying device got lifted to two mismatched eyelights that alternated between various shapes and colors; Primarily ones tied to fear, curiosity, confusion, and worry. The binoculars showed Ink their opponent: an average-ish Sans-type garbed in choice clothing only seen in a particular AU.
Light shuffles sounded from his left side, signaling his follow guardian's growing discomfort. Maybe Ink was staring too long, or perhaps all the negativity and screams were getting to the yellow-clad skeleton.
"I- Is it Nightmare?" Dream's voice sounded equal parts hopeful and terrified.
Ink tossed his friend the binoculars instead of answering, causing the Guardian of Positivity to fumble to catch them, and yanked his phone out of his inventory. His phalange nearly broke the down button as he began to speed through the long list of contacts.
Meanwhile, Dream raised the object to his eye sockets and raised an invisible brow while inspecting the figure in the distance. "Is that who I think it is?"
A short nod answered his question. The artist would have given a better one, but he was far too occupied trying to make sure he called the correct number. He practically smashed the call button when he finally found the desired phone number. Unfortunately, who he was attempting to contact was slow to pick up the phone, leaving him to shift from side to side impatiently.
On the third ring, someone finally accepted the call. Before they could say anything, however, Ink yelled, "He's back again!"
A familiar deep, groggy voice made a questioning sound. "Uuuuh... Who... Who's back?"
The Guardian of AUs briefly scoured through the numerous note on his beige scarf, saying uncertainly, "That- Uh... mysterious Geno who disappeared before you were able to see him last year?"
"...Right. Keep him occupied until I portal me and my husband there." Fabric rustled, and worn bedsprings creaked. Why would- Oh, right, alternate universes had different time zones.
"Gen, wake up. The sentient, abstract art found-" The following words were hushed, too distant for Ink to make out. But he did hear a tired and grumpy reply.
"Forever. Let me sleep forever."
"I'm sorry, but you have to get up." Some light movement sounded, followed by the death god's distressed cry, "My love- Wait!"
"Tell him to go to hel-" Geno's distant voice came through the speaker. It got even more distant when a crash and garbled static soon assaulted Ink's ears. Then the call dropped.
The soulless skeleton blinked and quickly pocketed his phone.
"What did Reaper say?" Dream questioned.
Ink waved a hand dismissively, using the other to reach for his trusty weapon. "Hmm? Oh, nothing important! Let's focus on catching this Aftertale Sans so we can figure out where he came from."
With that said, he lept off the rooftop and landed gracefully on the concrete below; Not waiting for a second for Dream to follow before rushing toward the destruction and madness.