The next few days were an ordeal; A very unpleasant ordeal, at that. Ink had popped by every so often and attempted to coerce him into painting a colorful scenery. The artist yielded all efforts after being presented with an 'interesting' piece. Nightmare, being the Lord of Darkness and Nightmares that he was, decided to get back at him via a morbid painting of the Ink himself murdering Error. It was not well-received. Ink freaked out upon seeing it, threw up his namesake, and fled while repeating, 'I have to find him!' He'd been avoiding Nightmare ever since. Likewise with himself, as the avoidance was mutual. The whole situation- Everything didn't settle right after that, especially considering Error was still MIA and had been for a while.
Dream and Blue attempted to give him 'friendship lessons' and force him to participate in 'tea parties.' The parties, though, ended after Nightmare either threatened someone with a tea cake or listed horrible ways to kill and/or poison someone. Their expressions were priceless, mainly after he informed them of the toxicity of their favorite fruit and tuber. Blue balked at the news that tomatoes could, in fact, be deadly. (During a specific stage of growth and in a large quantity. However, they did not need to know that little detail.) He ruined potatoes for them in a similar fashion. Along with the tomato, it was a recognized member of the nightshade family; Bore a fruit reminiscent of a cherry tomato, which was ill-advised to consume. Neither skeleton would be able to view ketchup or mashed potatoes the same.
Today, however, Nightmare faced a set of different, arguably more obnoxious trials.
"Dream," Nightmare growled, warningly. His eyelights narrowed at the fluffy, pink/purple-colored atrocity the guardian presented him. The cheery grin on the other's face made him want nothing more than to slap it off and watch him cry. "no."
The overly positive skeleton pouted, staring at him with big puppy-dog eyes. "But you haven't even tried it on yet! And it's so snuggly- like a constant hug!"
"Are you sure this absurdity isn't a new form of torture? This feels like a new torture method." The Guardian of Negativity spat as he stepped back a few paces, gazing at the offending article with suspicion. He could not fathom why someone would want an amaranthine embrace.
It would be like another living creature eternally invading my personal space. Nightmare gave it a brief yet considering look. Maybe I should keep it and make the boys wear it when they misbehave; What better punishment than to feel like an invisible being is affixed to you? Like a foe who's forever stalking you, and no matter how far you run, you can not escape.
...No.
I'll burn it later. No one deserves that level of punishment.
A sigh sounded in the disgustingly cheery-themed room. Dream ceased all attempts to guilt Nightmare into wearing the sweater and pulled it close to his chest. Then, with all the sincerity he could muster, said, "I swear, Nightmare, it is not torture in any way, shape, or form. Why can't you trust me on this?"
"A likely story- Besides, since when are you a good judge of character. Those villagers you befriended were not the noblest or kindest of people." The silvery-boned skeleton laughed humorlessly. "In fact, one could argue that they couldn't grasp the concept."
His opposite flinched, peering down at the ground as if he wanted nothing more than for it to swallow him whole. Silence stretched between them. Neither spoke. Neither tried. Eventually, Dream fled with his metaphorical tail between his legs, leaving Nightmare to stew alone in his happy little hell until lunchtime.
Lunch was an easy-going affair. Uneventfully, at the most- That was until a particular yellow-clad skeleton made it his life's goal to pester Nightmare. Said dark lord begrudgingly sat in a colorful plastic chair with a sippy cup of pink lemonade; A plate of smiling sandwiches laid before him. It was primarily untouched. He'd eaten a variety of different foods over the years, but eating something highly reminiscent of a face was a line he dared not cross. Dream, the horrid creep born from the same tree as him, seated himself on the opposite side of the table. The very ugly, plastic rainbow table.
And Nightmare had more than enough of his incessant chattering, well-meant questions, happy attitude, and brilliant smile.
Glaring at the walking, talking ray of sunshine, he growled, "You are killing me with 'kindness'; I demand you stop!"
"What's the magic word?" Dream said in an irritatingly sing-songy voice.
"Shove a %$@*& up your #&@!"
The Guardian of Positivity paled and scooted his chair back ever-so-slightly. "Ooookkay... 'Please.' The magic word is 'please.' We'll- uh, let's work on proper manners later."
Dream then poked at his food for a while before fleeing once more. A smirk crept onto Nightmare's skull as he watched the happy-go-lucky skeleton leave due to discomfort.