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Fresh isn’t a big fan of the Anti-Void… While it’s nice and bright, it’s colourless and bland— not the parasites forte. He also makes sure to stay a safe distance from Error, but he still catches glimpses of his blue strings and some of his sewing. He doesn’t know much about this guy right now either.
Few things tend to disturb or even raise interest in the virus when it comes to new environments, but something special about the Anti-Void was the voices .
It’s not exactly annoying, just weird. Fresh is used to the waning consciousness of his poor victims as they eventually fade from their own body… but the questions the voices in the Anti-Void ask are pretty different. He can’t control them, or hardly hear them. Sometimes Fresh wonders how much they know about the universe. Sometimes he wonders where they came from.
They mention things that psyche even Fresh out. Talking about him, siding with him— asking him what he’s doing. How Ink is doing. It's creepy the voice's even assume Fresh associates with that guy in the first place.
Then they’d also complain. So much. It’s actually crazy. Fresh is used to negative nancy’s— like evil head-honcho Nightmare, withdrawn like Geno, crazy like Killer— but constantly being nagged about being terrible morally, annoying, or too vague was sometimes overwhelming.
And, if Fresh really cared much about others, he’d actually be flabbergasted that Error lives like this, with all of this noise. But he has to suspend his horror, with the whole… lack of complex emotions. And if this all bothered the glitch… Jus’ move away. Lol.
He’s getting distracted. Right. Monitoring different areas of the multiverse to find a viable host was way harder than it's cracked up to be.
Which is why he’s being extremely lazy… And probably doing something he’d get in trouble for.
As he got closer to Errors… ‘home’, if it could count as one, the voices intensified to where he could hear them at nearly full speaking tone, overlapping and cutting into each other. He shook his head and they faded only a bit.
what the hell is this dude doing omg
Let the man sleep, fresh
Fresh snorted at the murmuring and continued to parade himself around with just the same amount of swagger that he normally would around others. He had a feeling these voices meant something after all– and he wasn’t going to be boring for them. “Don’t worry ‘bout it.” Fresh said quietly, smirking.
The glitched man’s home consisted of scattered about stolen furniture and small coffee tables and such, one larger couch error used as a bed, a beanbag right next to it, and a television laying on a stack of old— also stolen— books.
Fresh had to step around all the dolls that were strewn about the ground. He looked to where Error lay and saw the resting figure just nearly poking his head out of a nest of knitted blankets and other clothes.
Out of all the faint sounds of the anti-void, Fresh couldn’t hear the common static that accompanied the presence of the destroyer. He quirked an eyebrow but continued to sneak about, noting that Error seemed to be more tame when asleep.
You stealing, Fresh-?
this is so fire
DON’T GET CAUGHT!!!
Fresh stood up straight after making it to the couch, snickering at his success. He gazed into the spider web-like arrange of monster and human SOULs above him and the prone Error.
Crap. Fresh can’t… reach that high.
Now the parasite was known for being taller than his other, more empathetic counterparts, but the closest SOUL in general was still pretty far up there— and there's no chance whatsoever that it’ll be one that will be to Fresh’s liking— maybe if he stood on the couch he could pull the strings down a bit and get a few in range, yoink a platter, and be on his merry way. Error wasn’t using ANY of them…!
“‘Scuse me, brah.” The taller whispered, knowing Error was not awake and wasn’t even the type of guy to care about people having manners. Fresh hopped on the back of the couch, on the solid part so as to not sink into the plush part and disturb Error.
Standing straight up with one arm in the air, he had access to a few readied monster SOULs… Looking at it now, Fresh had to appreciate the display above him. It was probably terrifying to the average monster with normal emotions, but to the virus he was just baffled at the amount of SOULs Error had collected over the years.
Thoughtlessly, He scooped a few up. He’s never really had to store SOULs, so he looked at the floating, wrapped up souls with confusion before opting to just… usher them into his jacket pocket. As long as they are extracted via Error’s SOUL strings, Fresh doesn’t risk unnecessary existential breakdowns from an unbearably upset monster.
maybe avoid the strings, you don’t know if error can feel them or not
Fresh winced at the late advice and looked down. There was a small stirring and static rising. He launched backwards on two feet, only to catch a foot on a plush of Underfell Sans and falling down on his ass. It didn’t make too loud a sound, but the Anti-Void is essentially a library with its lack of noise. It sounded catastrophic compared to the mute of the utterly blank dimension.
The man of the hour shot up on his couch, hard to take seriously when a bunch of grandmother blankets shed off of the destroyer in the process. The misshapen eyes immediately land on Fresh— how could they not— and Error physically recoiled in disgust. “Y0U!” Error said, a slight ting of grogginess swamped his corrupted tone.
“…Oh hey, whazzup.” Fresh replied in a casual manner. He made a caution, slow move to get up. Fresh was totally chill, but he definitely didn’t mess around when it came to combat. Even tumours like him didn’t want their heads blasted off by a paranoid schizophrenic. In Error’s nature, he snapped with an audible crackle to his voice as his fists clenched behind his long sleeves.
“Whu-What’s up—?” The destroyer repeated incredulously. Fresh murmured something like ‘I asked you first’ before Error continued. “What are you doing here? You might think y-you’re safe as a neutral pparty i-in the Balance—“ He sat up further to point an accusatory finger at Fresh. “—But you still count as an flippin’ abomination either way!”
Fresh put his hands up in a faux-defeat. “ I totes get it! Jus’ passin’ thru…” His grin became strained as he struggled to come up with an alibi. Usually the Sans’ he talked to were all naive, or just plain idiots, Error was a different playing field for the secret intellectual. “Noticed ya have lotta stuff, couldn’t not check it out. Ain’t dat flattering?”
You’re in trrrouble. One of the voices echoed behind him.
He was met with a scowl. Error had seemed to regain his usual demeanour, instinctively removing himself from being seen as home-y or defenceless. Even if he was… both of those things a minute earlier.
“Don’t act like me and you are the same. I saw your pitiful sack of garbage in what was left of X-TALE. Y -Y ou’re not fooling me .” Error scoffed, cocky, already risen from his couch to loop around and get a full view of the other.
“You’re st-stealing from me! Aren’t you?!”
Accusations. Fresh has been accused of so, so many things in his many lifespans that found out every way to lie yourself out of an accusation before it consumes any positive reception you get from others.
…Either way, he’s not Error’s favourite being in the Multiverse, so why try to save face? He could reply, Yea, I’m stealin’ from you, and if you try to stop it, I’ll hurt you like crazy — But saying something so blunt is just boring! And he just loves to wring any sort of information out of monsters he finds curious, even if it means he has to wring them by the neck as well.
And he certainly finds this guy curious.
“ Me? Stealin’ ya stuff? Oh nah.” Fresh adjusted his shades that displayed NO_WAY. “Imma nice guy, don’t be tryin’ to misunderstand ya friend like dat.” He took a step forward. “Das rude, brah.” He was entirely satisfied when the destroyer took a step backward.
Error’s eyebrows furrowed and his nearly visible hands began to summon those strings of his. Another positive about Fresh’s glasses is the freedom to closely observe things without making his true intentions aware of. He quirked an eyebrow at Error’s immediate combativeness. “…I really hate out-coders like you.” The shorter commented snidely. Error did have the tendency to insult randomly rather than have a conversation with anyone.
“G—Give me a good reason to not kill you for b-bothering me… Abominations like you sh-shouldn’t be able to walk free either way,” He paused, cocking his head to the side, mouth obscured by his rather ruffled-looking blue scarf. “B—but I’m feeling generous.”
See, what did Fresh say? Interesting guy. By his own logic, he needs to inevitably destroy himself as the destroyer of AUs… While simultaneously being an egomaniac. Opinions aside, Fresh made a decision, and he made one fast. If he were to poof away to his base, he wouldn’t get any action at all! If he were to stay and initiate a battle, he’d have plenty of things to work with.
He’d like some material for future references. While Error and Fresh were familiar, He hadn’t found out yet what made the glitch tick. Which appeared to be many things, such as Fresh himself and just about nearly any AU of Undertale out there. Even if Fresh doesn’t literally feed off of the effects of his own psychological warfare of those around him, he finds himself much, much more secure around someone he knows he’ll win the mind game against.
Call him manipulating! Fresh just sees learning fears as all in good fun.
Speaking of which. “…Thanks for that, bromie.” He felt himself faze away momentarily before appearing directly in-front of Error’s face with an obnoxiously cartoonish POOF! “Now, I gottta few reasons. Ya really just want one?” He asked, then pressed a phalange to the mid point of Error’s clothed sternum. He felt it buzz beneath him, and suddenly, Fresh was entirely immobile.
So, that must be it. Physical contact! That’s certainly a big weakness. Fresh struggled a bit in the strings Error had used to bind him, but they just would get worse, like a belt. He then was suspended upside down, arms tight to his chest. Fresh held back a pained noise and stopped his motion.
“…Stupid anomaly!” Fresh heard below him, the man most likely talking to himself. Based on his tone, he was still recovering. “What does your SOUL look like, anyways?” Fresh craned his head to look down and his glasses displayed UH_ OH.
He offered a grin. “Trust me, brah, I wouldn’t be a good feature in ya little trophy collection.” Fresh tried to manufacture an out, but felt the uncomfortable pressure of someone else touching a SOUL.
It was a withered, dusty white thing, like an old expended life had been lived in it. This vessel was getting a bit old, which is why he had stopped by initially, but by gauging Error’s reaction, he couldn’t talk his way out of this one.
The glitch’s eyes twitched and then narrowed. “What are you?” Fresh then didn’t respond, shades blank. In retaliation, the other dragged the SOUL down to his waiting, string bearing hands, and inspected it. The suspended man didn’t vanish, nor squirm a bit more. He went limp, slightly, and a rare frown adorned his face. “…This isn’t yours.”
Error’s quick thinking reminded Fresh why he had been careful around his base in the first place. “You’re not a Sans.” The virus’ glasses then displayed NO_ RLY. Error let out a bitter laugh. “Then where’d you come from?” He lowered the other slightly so they were at eye level. Fresh didn’t respond, but Error didn’t need him to.
Fresh felt static as Error reached out to take his hat off, tossing it to the side, then moved on quite quickly to his shades. When he started his struggle against Error again, the destroyer flinched when the force of Fresh’s swing caused Fresh to bump into him.
He growled, angry, tugging Fresh all the way back up where he had been originally, abandoning his analysis of the interesting creature. Despite his current peril, Fresh just sighed in relief.