CHAPTER ONE: GOOD NIGHT, ARTIST

BYR: check the information chapt. it gives the characters mentioned and apart. sorry for inconsistent names. tell me if you want their aliases left for speech and real ones for actions or simply use the new names for all of the time unless the people who know the real ones are the only ones their? Also sorry for this being sent an hour and a half later than I said it would take.

    The crackling of candy and chip packages mixed with the calm ancient melody that the shop owner played from an old record player. Tick tocks of the clock told the small skeleton that he was running later and later, but he had a task to finish first. His employer was wonderful woman that he happily would call family and work late without pay to finish small task. Today though there were too many and he didn't have enough extra time.

     'Sorry son you'll have to spend some time with Ms. Notrin tonight' he mentally sighed before turning to the empty box. With minimal difficulty, he flattened and carried it towards the backdoor. The backalley, with out a doubt, filled him with dread from the stench of garbage, lack of light, and the howls of both the wind and dogs; so, he quickly skimpered over to the bin to throw it in then ran back. Once locking the door, he realized someone was watching him.

    "I see you're still here, Mr.Blotch?" her calm voice starting the conversation while motioning to walk forward. A command the little skeleton happily listened to.

    "Sorry. There was a lot left but I just finished what can't be done in the morning. Mrs. Luknit," he explained. The morning crew wasn't the best and a small group, so it was best to stock in the night than wait for tomorrow. Only three of the staff, who took pride in the staff, -not to say others weren't good just nonmotivated- were Sepia Blotch, Maoleah and Coco Druam'r. A small smile appeared for a second at the lovely fake name he chose. Many skeletons have strange or close seeming names, so no one could use the closeness to make a connection.

    "Thank you for your help stocking. It is always great but next time please tell me before starting. I could have helped," she asked. Her hand went to set a hand to his shoulder then pulled back, since they were wildly different sizes and she couldn't reach it. 

   "Don't worry about it," Ink hummed, taking no mind to the elder's embarrassment.

   "I can't have you overworking yourself like this every night," She said feeling bad for being unable to pay him in extra for the work.

    "It's fine. You have to pay for 'protection' already and let me bring Mint when Vicky or Druam'rs can't watch him so Ms. Notrin doesn't have to," he explained as they reached the coat rack wear Ink's over sized but fluffy coat. It was late fall with harsh winds and icy rain.

    "If you say so. But at least take these for the little artist and you," she asked pulling out two party favor bag. The old goat made small candy/snack bags for her inner circle of their favorite treats, "I thought it would be a taste of Christmas to come."

     A pause from untying his apron and took the bags to stare at. After a few seconds of gawking, he spoke up looking up at her, mouth slightly a gap, "... thank you so much. I'm sure he'll love these," His eyes had morphed to a light taffy exclamation mark and crepe isotoxal star (with smaller ones sprinkled through) for a few minutes.

     Seeing the adorable act, "Blot, ones for you," she said but knew that it wouldn't do much to change what will happen, "Though you should getting dressed and going now. I've taken too much of your time."

     "You're right," he chuckled and got ready: stuffed the bags into the jacket pocket, pulled off and hung up the apron, and, finally, slipped and buttoned on his coat, "All set. See you tomorrow afternoon, Ms. Luknit," While turning up to give a childish wave, he saw the clock; he'd have to run home tonight. So, he did. 

    She sighed seeing him run out and locked out the door behind, "He needs someone to protect him. Someone's going to hurt one of these days....." thinking aloud.

==============undeterminable amount of time==============

    Ink tiredly hustled, stumbling every few steps, down the barren streets on the freezing night. The light post illuminated his path, but some were sadly broken from long term neglect. Constellations made by the stars speckled the navy sky that was absent of moonlight. His glasses, thick lenses and matte black with glossy rainbow dotting the large full moon frame, started to slip from his skull as his magic weakened. He was tired from a day of work and not exactly eating enough for his small body. His buttermilk winter coat flutter around him with fingerless gloves warming his palms. He tired to fix his glasses from falling the best he could through his sleeves and snug under his black cap that had a rainbow pompom that he loved. 

    The reason that this tiny skeleton was running past ten in an unsafe city was very simple but stupid: Ms. Notrin's, his boss, shop had tasks that needed to be done before tomorrow and he was there. So, he wasn't jogging or walking like he normally loved to do in cooler months. However, it was a near-winter night, and he needed to get to his apartment to both pay Vicky and get his son to bed. Despite his bravery, Palette hated going to sleep without one of his family members near him. Not to ignore the fact, there were multiple people doing criminal activities making him carry a knife and handgun for defense-the former of which he was sure of using. He really hoped his ability to disappear; thank fate he was part blob.

    'Stupid stupid stupid,' he chanted muffled by his scarf, frustrated at himself. He was forcefully slowed by the winds that now were against his running. His long beloved scarf funneled his breath to his glasses causing them to fog. So, since he couldn't see well, a crack in the sidewalk caught his foot. A soft scream erupted on his mouth when he crashed to the floor; his bone burned from the impact and caused his eyes water with dark mahogany and brown cinnamon tears. The world went blurry 'Why?! Not this!' he begged in his mind. At first, he questioned if he was just crying too much or he lost his glasses. It was both really. His left humorous felt like it was either had a rug burn like scrap or a bruises with his knees were certainly bruised. However, he slowly brushed his arms over the ground looking for it and rubbing his eyes-sockets to get rid of the tears. 

     As he crawled around on the floor, a gruff voice suddenly spoke up -maybe not out of the blue but his footsteps were ignored since Ink was panicked with finding his glasses. 

    "#€¥ ł#3§3 Y0u|2$¿" the person asked. Spending his teen years in the mobs, he could tell the person was a feigning that innocent; also, he knew to not point it out or anger the person that could kill him and had held the key to sight. Slowly, he forced his body to stand waves of pain shotting to his patella and humorous however he powered through it to hide the pain. 

   "Yah most likely are." he said respectfully/softly. Ink put his hands out nervously scared that a knife would just stab through his hand.

    "#3|2€ ¡ł !$," the distorted voice said while setting my glasses in my hands; he promptly placed it on his face and blinked a few times.

    "Thank you" he said calmly to him before starting to walk. 

    "^^aY! |€æRñ w#¥ y0ü ār3 0ùł $O |Ał€" the man asked. 

    "I'm just heading home. Like you should be too" Ink replied trying to urge this possible criminal or normal citizen to head home/go away. 

   "o# dO ¥0U n3€D [0^^PaN¥¿" the taller, Ink was smaller than a lot of people but from his glimpse they were taller than most, said

   "Oh no!" he said quickly. "I'm fine alone but you should head homed" 

    "|2€a||¥ ! |]0 WâÑt ¥Ou łO 93-|- #uRt" they said once again feigning worry

    "Well you should be more worried for yourself and your family or friends. I could be a criminal planning to kill you so sir head home," Ink said to the man keeping his head down so the man couldn't see his face thus making it impossible to recognized in a could. He could hear a deep chuckle -it sounded very attractive if he wasn't scared to die tonight by him. After that, the man seemed to leave him alone. Ink though was smart. 'Don't trust silence' he thoughted and decided to take a longer route to deter interest in following...

First:Go into a random building. 

   In this case, he chose a building complex. It had great advantages: the man will believe he lived there, so, if they wanted to find him, then will be on long goose chase and he could get out of the cold for a while. 

Second: Make it seem like you belong.

   He walked to the elevator pretending to he calm yet rushed. The forth floor was chosen. Listening to the classic and cliché music to calm down. He had to get back home to his son and pay Vicky for watching him. 

Third: Leave without gaining suspicion 

   Once the door opened, he slowly stepped. With tired eyes, he glanced at the small sign and made his way to the stairs. His steps were light and soft on the metal -hoping his sprinting wouldn't be heard and cause panic. When he started down the stairwell, he leaped down the steps and ignored the pain that shot through his legs. 'I may be  bruised and sore but it better than dead' his mind reasoned to him. The coast seemed clear at the bottom and allowed the mouse of a skeleton to run off home.

============indeterminable amount of time=============

    As Ink came to his apartments door, a blonde haired/furred goat monster stepped out with a young skeleton dressed in a brown bear onesie.

    "Wait Vicky I'm here," hs called out causing both teen and child to turn and face him. 

    Before the teen could speak, the child pulled his hand away from her, ran up to Ink, and grabbed his leg. "Papa!" Palette -or Jolly Mints as the people here believe he is names- cheered while his father gave him gentle pats. "Sorry mon nounour," he whispered 

    "You're late Mister," Vicky sneered angrily. A soft sigh slipped afterwards looking down at the young adult; the sight was cute. She promised her boyfriend to be back soon, but she stayed to give Ink the benefit of the doubt and extra time to get here, "He's eaten the lunch and dinner, though," she explained and giggled the next part, "Maybe a snack or two of candy since you were late."

    "Yah. They were gummies with sweet liquids inside! Ms. Vicky called them gusher," Mint added. 

    Ink giggled with her petty revenge, "I deserve that but thank you for staying late," he said while rummaging through his coat pocket for cash and coin, "Take this as compensation and I can give you an extra day off." He gave her the money upfront and he was around forty-five minutes late. 

    "Thanks for the dough and day off. I'll call you when I want to cash them in," she said stuffing the two silver  five-piece bills and three one dollar g coins into her purse. "So, see you two Thursday and, Minty, I'll bring more movies and popcorn." an excited cheer erupted from the child as she walked away. Then, the neighbor's door creaked open.

   "Oh hello Miss. Notrin," Ink said being pulled away from waving to the babysitter and saw the marmalade eyes and buttermilk fur with beige patches in the crack. "Hi Miss," little mint added happily

    The door opened further letting the shy monster properly converse, "Hello Sepia and I told you to call me Phabbya. But I see that you just arrived. If I'm not intruding on personal matters, what caused you to be so late," she asked in her concerned and motherly voice.

    "You're never be intruding and I getting Ms. Luknit's shop ready for the morning," he explained laving out his run in with that man

    "Oh. I was worried you got jumped," she said. Ink walked over to his door getting scowl from the sweet lad. "I see you're hurt" which was followed by a whine from Mint, "!?Estas herido?!," he asked in a nervous shock of his father being hurt. Ink was the only the two of his fathers he had with him, and he did want to loose him. The dear is over dramatic sometimes -or all the time.

    "Right... I kind of tripped on a crack and may have hurt my legs," Ink sheepishly said, "It's nothing seriously dangerous." hoping to reassure both of them he was fine.

    "Come in so I can clean you up," she asked in a tone that only a brat would dare not listen to. She was a worry-wart and motherly woman that no one in the building would say no to and looked to her for help in times of desperation. In hopes to help in ways she was in able to.

    "Yes Miss Phabbya(Notrin)" the two artist said and followed her order. Palette held Ink's hand as they entered the apartment. Once they were inside, their host grabbed the first aid kit she kept by the door. 

    "Set him here at the table, Jolly," she requested setting down the box on said table, "Sepia pull up your pant legs and take off your coat please

    "Yes miss," both said together once more with Mints holding onto his dad's pant leg after helping him to the cushioned chair. Ink sighed then pull off his coat off to see his gloved and sleeved arms. Next, he rolled up his pant legs to show off his scraped, bruised, and engraved legs. They were decorated with swirling black etchings that he had since birth; he only let a few people see them since they were a way to find out who he was. However, Phibby was trustable.

    "I'm sorry that this will hurt Sepia," she whispered while getting out a fern cotton ball with a dab of pistachio ointments on it. The items were monster and human creations imbued with deluded healing magic for both species -the former cleans wounds;the latter numbs the spot or helps the wound heal. There are different grades of the paste, but higher ones are more expensive, scarce, and may needed a medical prescription to get. 

    Ink nodded bracing himself for the pain with his son holding onto him tightly, "Padre es valiente. Ser fuerte," Palette whisper trying to help as she slowly rubbed the cotton over his cuts. Then, she got another olive -and stronger- paste on a cotton ball for the bruises. Ink hissed softly waiting for it to be done. She wrapped bandages around the joint carefully, so she didn't restrict his movement. 

   "You're very brave," Phabbya said trying to brighten their spirit.

    "Yah my papa is the third bravest person," Palette cheered crawling into Ink's lap with minimal trouble. His other father and uncle were the second and first bravest. "Mi engredre y mi tio"

      Before the discussion continued, Ink said, "They're family that out of the city, but we need to head to bed."

      "Well good night you too," she said hiding away her curiosity for another time. 

      "Bonne nuit, Phabbya," Ink said then followed by Palette,"Buenas noches, Miss Notrin! See you in the morning." Ink calmly sat up picking up the jacket with his son in his left arm, heading to the door. When they entered the house, he set his son on their couch and went into the bathroom to change into his pj: a long sleeved night gown, pants, and fluffing socks. It kept him warm at night. Even if the designs were childish, they were his personal patterns that his friend paid to be custom made for him. Thank fate for Dream's kindness.

      After changing, he went back to his son. "Do you want to sleep alone tonight?" he asked the boy who shook his head.

      "No I want to sleep with you," Palette said giving grabby hands at Ink.

     "If you that's what you want but you'll need to sleep alone tomorrow alright," he warned picking him up with a smile. He was trying to get Palette to sleep alone, but didn't want him to go cold turkey. This training, for a lack of a better term, almost always got a pout but was accepted after a bit of whining that was absent tonight. In the bed, they snuggled under the double blankets with Palette on his chest. Like a cat and kitten, they curled up together and fell asleep. Ink almost forgot about the event that happened earlier.