The famed Destroyer of AU's, skeleton of black bones and red sockets, the legendary Puppeteer with his indestructible strings of magic, now known under the new titles of the forced god of destruction, Deathweaver, god of the ends and new beginnings, and as such, said god was usually seen with an aloof, somewhat irritable but understanding personality.

So it was quite a remarkable surprise for many to find the next morning that not only was he all smiles- something typically considered a rarity to witness- but his bones were bare of any darkness, instead colored in near oversaturation of several glowing colors, carrying a child in his arms.

Among the first to discover this absolutely ecstatic destroyer was Alter, who had been chatting with Gaster as they strolled through the camp. He noticed a familiar yet unfamiliar greyish skull first, bobbing above some of the lower tents rather jovially.

He hesitated, Gaster pausing beside him as both noticed and realized the stranger was headed their way.

Then both were shocked to realize that this person was Error, carrying something in his arms with a huge grin that was so strange to see on him. It was full of love and an almost childlike excitement.
He spotted them, striding over quickly on his long legs.
It became glaringly obvious that he was carrying a child.

"Look at my son." He proclaimed to them proudly, holding the strange infant out to them a little.
"Look at him, he's so embarrassed."

Gaster snorted explosively as the last comment set in, for indeed, the slightly grey-boned child was entirely flushed a fuchsia hue, pouting slightly as he avoided meeting their gazes.

"This is your son?" Alter asked somewhat hesitantly, still surprised by the other's giddiness. Error nodded, smiling down at the little one warmly. "Fresh never understood embarrassment, so I'm taking it upon myself to show him to every last person who will see him by the end of today."

Here, Alter hesitated, remembering that name as Gaster spoke up.
"Isn't that a little extreme? He needs a moment if he doesn't like it that much."
"Oh no, he secretly loves it. He just doesn't get it yet." Error chuckled, nuzzling the back of the child's skull, the little one lifting an arm to push at him indignantly.

"Oh! He has four arms! Is he part insect?" Alter asked, blinking at the somewhat insectoid secondary hands.
Error shrugged amiably. "More likely arachnid, like me." He swiped a few strings from his face before they melted back into the tear marks.
"But he's so adorable. I was worried he'd look so much like me it'd scare others, but now he's the cutest thing I've ever held!" His eyelights briefly turned into stars as he beamed down.

Alter quietly awed at the two of them, impressed by the cuteness the destroyer displayed as well. The child grumbled, pushing him away and looking to the others with a helpless plea in his lights. Error snickered at his flailing and hugged him close again.
The babybones sighed, going limp.

"You know, you look quite precious yourself with him." Alter dared to say. Error blinked up at him, confused.
"In what way am I remotely cute? I'm unsightly."

"You call that unsightly?" Gaster scoffed. "Your scars hardly change your face at all, meanwhile mine are practically my defining feature. Apart from my body. Look at me; I am one with the Void. You, on the other hand, are a wonderfully exotic being. I've never seen a monster so bright and colorful, and I daresay those scars tell a lot about your character."

Error blinked a few times, a faint bluish blush on his cheekbones. Then he shook his skull. "I'm hardly anything worth enough. I'm a neon sign of scars."
Gaster again scoffed. "And I don't even have bones anymore. I'm a slime. Tell me, is there anything appealing about slime to any race that isn't a Moldsmol?"

Alter just took a step to the side, a little amused by the slight competition, watching as Error raised a non-existent eyebrow.
"Nightmare is literally the same way, and I've seen enough of those that idolize him to know there are plenty that would more than appreciate that attribute."
"He has bones, from what I'm aware of."
"And they can easily disintegrate."

The old Royal Scientist sighed, rubbing his nasal bone in irritation.
"Look at us, arguing over who's pretty or not. That wasn't even the point."
"Really? What was your point, then?"
"You!" He exclaimed. "You have such a mysterious allure to so many! Have you not noticed the way others look at you? Even the humans admire you! That's a damn feat for a skeleton to match a human's idea of beauty."

Error hesitated. "You really believe they see me like that? It's a bit.. extreme, isn't it?"
"I'm sorry, but I really have to agree with him on this, you look so regal despite being so humble. You are a god, yet you act as though it means nothing at all."
"Because it honestly doesn't? Not to me. I never asked to become one, but here I am."

"Well, I suppose that is understandable, but you can't ignore your charm. You're quite elegant, and if those colors mean anything like what they usually do, you are just as beautiful inside as well." Alter gestured to the other broadly, smiling faintly.

Now the blush intensified, standing out from the glow of his tear tracks. "I've killed trillions." He excused, frowning. "There is nothing to like in that. Nothing at all."

"Dear." Alter leaned in, cupping the side of Error's face. He could feel the somewhat sticky dampness in his glowing tear lines. The glitch flinched, but didn't quite pull back. Alter regarded him with a stern gentleness.

"You never asked for what you were forced into. You are a guardian, however fallen you may be from another's sins. All angels must fall to save others from darkness, after all. You've paid a great price you had no choice but to shoulder. Do not blame yourself for another's decisions that were forced upon you."

Error stared at him, frowning as he considered the words, struggling to accept the kindness. Then he glanced down, seeing the small, fragile child in his arms, gazing up at him with silent sadness.

"I... I'm so®r¥, I πeed to.. I ne€d to go." He turned and walked away, teleporting off a few paces from them. Alter sighed, a little disappointed in his leaving yet hopeful that his words had some kind of effect.

. • ° . • °

Error sighed heavily behind the large tent he'd teleported next to, trying to understand what he'd been told. For some reason, it scared him.

Hey.. Brah?
He hummed slightly, regarding his little one. Fresh looked up, studying his face while clinging to his ribs through his shirt.
Innit dis tent Nasuada's?

Error blinked, noticing the red pavilion.
It is. He agreed, somewhat surprised that he'd wound up here. He could hear the recognizable voices of Nasuada and Eragon inside, discussing something over dwarves.

He sighed, calming down.
I'm sorry.
Why? Alter proved that peeps like you.
I.. I don't know. He admitted, weary.
There was a moment, then Fresh readjusted his position.
Can we visit Saphira? She'd be here, right?

Error rubbed his skull gently as he began walking around the back of the tent.
With our luck, we can finally find where Chaos has gone off to and she can meet her little brother.
... I'm older.
You weren't developed before; you're younger.
.... Dangit, I had fun bein' older.
Now she can have her fun.
Noooo... He blinked, tired already as he leaned against his parent.

They rounded around the side of the tent, finding the blue dragon's bulk laying comfortably outside, head stuck in the pavilion. He paused a suitable distance away, deciding to wait for her to notice their presence- she was quite adept at recognizing scents.

Yet, to both their surprise, a familiar head popped up from between her talons, face hole blinking.
"Endogeny." Error greeted, not knowing what to say.

This finally alerted the dragon to his arrival, pulling her head out with a quick explanation to those inside to peer at him.
Error. She greeted, before noticing the smell of Fresh before seeing him.

She leaned her muzzle down to sniff him, flames flickering in the depths of her nostrils as she investigated the scent, shifting upwards to sniff Error's shoulder as well.

Her tongue flicked out, rasping against the glitch's shirt before she spoke kindly.
He is so small, yet I expected him to be even smaller. He also seems so soft in comparison to the rest of your kind. May you live long and the sun always be at your back, and you catch your prey napping.

They both blinked at Saphira, then Fresh shifted to look up at Error.
Am I blessed?
I believe you were just blessed.
Fresh turned back to face the dragon, impressed.
I am blessed.

Error snorted, amused.
"Why did you think to bless him? Neither of us were expecting such a thing." He asked Saphira.

She blinked, a snick of eyelids over her blue eyes.
I remember the stories you would tell of yourselves when I would listen. Many in the Multiverse choose to hate you for what you are merely because they are blind. Eventually those monsters will arrive here, with every desire to act upon their misplaced hate. You have enemies, as do we all. Surely a blessing would be appreciated?

Error stared into her calm gaze, feeling both a disgust, fear, resignation and a fierce Determination rise up within himself over those words. He kept his calm, however.
"You have a point, something I haven't been too keen on thinking about, either."

I am glad to bring it to your attention, then. She huffed, settling down as Endogeny sort of.. pooled out from between her talons, popping back into shape and trotting over to sniff Fresh excitedly.

The former parasite couldn't help but giggle as the puffs of air tickled him, squinting slightly as he batted the amalgam away lightly.
They only crouched down, borking excitedly at the child.

Error patted their head and glanced at the pavilion, where Eragon and Nasuada had resumed talking.
"What are they up to?" He asked, curious yet not interested in intruding.

Saphira's eyes glimmered as she followed his gaze. A mission for Eragon alone. A faint melancholy tainted her words. Error blinked, tilting his skull to one side before regarding her in question.

She understood the gesture, huffing.
Nasuada intends to send him across Surda and to Farthen Dûr to speed the process of the dwarven election and into our favor, given his part as Dûrgrimst Ingeitum.
"As an ambassador?" He inquired, sitting down cross-legged as Fresh got comfortable in his lap.

The dragon rested her head across from him as Endogeny sidled up to sniff at Fresh, exuding happiness at the little one's existence.
Indeed, she intends to send him as an ambassador. I do not like her decision, but her arguments have a point I cannot ignore.

"Then don't ignore them." Error said simply, summoning red bone needles and beginning to knit with his strings, changing them into a dark mahogany that gleamed dully.
"She is brilliant for her age, and we do need the dwarves' support in this. The Empire has us outmatched without them."
Saphira only huffed in response. I know.
Error glanced back up. "Good. Does Eragon?"

She swung her head over to peer critically into the pavilion.
He is struggling to accept it. She said after a minute of staring and relative silence. He could hear a resigned sigh from the human inside, clearly aware of their conversation.

After a minute of silence between monsters and dragon, conversation resuming tensely inside the red command tent, Error spoke up, needles clicking.
"I can teleport him to Farthen Dûr, make the journey that much faster for you."

"Error, if you would like to join in our discussion, would you perhaps come in?" Nasuada finally addressed him from inside.
Error paused in his knitting, considering the offer.

On one hand, he preferred not to get involved in yet another meeting involving so much talking, but on the other hand, he was incredibly valuable to them due to his skills. He regarded Fresh, who blinked up at him before shrugging, a pinkish forked tongue flicking out from between his teeth.

Error blinked as Fresh froze.
I can smell. He commented suddenly. That startled a snort out of the glitch, putting his tools away and snickering quietly to himself. Saphira watched quietly with a hint of amusement in her own eyes.

"Error?" Nasuada called again, slightly concerned.
He chuckled to himself before picking up his son and calling back.
"Nothing, just Fresh discovering something." He explained while lifting the flap aside, striding into the space with Saphira's head close behind.

Fresh was sitting in his arm, hanging on loosely as he repeatedly flicked his forked tongue in and out in every direction, even leaning around as his eyelights focused on the rather long, pink thing. He scrunched up his face for a moment, then flicked out two pronged tongues, blinking as though he hadn't expected that.

He reached out mentally to the humans and dragon present, surprisingly delighted.
I can taste scents! Or smell tastes? He quickly second-guessed himself, puzzled as he then flicked his own nasal bone. Nasuada quickly put her hand to her mouth, eyes wide as Eragon snorted faintly, bewildered.

"Is that Fresh?" The Rider questioned. Error grinned at both of them, said child leaning over to look at Eragon with his tongue hanging out, waving it around with a rather cheeky smile.
Yes it's me, and I can taste your smell.

He leaned back against Error, studying his definitely three forked tongues by touch with wide, innocent eyelights. Nasuada made to speak, but paused as the tongues slicked back in his mouth and he paused.

Brah, I just taste-smelled myself. He stated in shock. Error broke then, wheezing quietly to himself. He never expected to find so much joy in his little one, but here he was laughing. Fresh just disregarded his hilarity and asked.
Am I part snake or something? I don' geddit.

"Alright, but how many tongues total?" Error finally asked, deciding they'd derailed this conversation already. Fresh glanced up at him, eyelights practically filling his sockets as he thought.
Then he stuck out the three forked tongues under a thick, normal one that was still longer than it should have been.
Four? He answered like a question.

"That is certainly peculiar." Nasuada commented, surprised. "Why does he have so many? Do you know?" She addressed Error again, genuinely interested.

He smirked almost devilishly. "I indeed do know where he got them from." He hummed, then stuck out all of his own tongues, wiggling them for effect. She spluttered momentarily, honestly mortified before she could regain composure.

"I take it that is not usual for skeletons?" She inquired once she had recovered.
Error pulled them back and chuckled. "I think we all know I am far from the usual in skeletons. I hardly even am one anymore."

She definitely took notice of the anymore, but refrained from commenting on it, instead asking a more unrelated question. "So would these unusual traits be responsible for his own unique features, then?"
"In part, I have no doubt." Error confirmed, smiling down at Fresh, who just flicked a tongue at him for amusement.

"But you remember that he was first formed from my own and Fate's magic, and was greatly influenced by Ink's paints before he was lost in an AU..." He frowned, then shook his skull.
"My point being, those two parts are more or less a wild card, we have no idea what he will gain from them."

Maybe I'll end up with powers of creation. Wouldn't that be ironic? Fresh giggled. Error hesitated.
"It would be better than Ink, I'll admit." He muttered, a little disquieted.

Fresh blinked at him, studying his face before suddenly agreeing.
Yeah, defs. I know how unrad he was wit' all dat constant creation. I would probs just use it for fun, though. He admitted, smiling as he hugged Error's arm.
The destroyer smiled as well, an expression most pure on his face.

"I really hate to tarnish such a moment, but, we really must continue with our previous conversation." Nasuada spoke gently.
Error sighed, nodding as he pulled a beanbag out of his inventory, setting himself down as Fresh took the chance to climb up closer to his face, taking advantage of his excessive limbs to do so.

Mostly ignoring him except for holding up his hand in case the little one fell, Error replied.
"Yes, as much as I dislike talking, we do have to do this, don't we."

Nasuada was clearly struggling not to smile at the sight of Fresh using Error as a jungle gym in the effort to reach his skull for no apparent reason.
"Yes, unfortunately we do."