Ink stared at the contents of the fridge for a bit. Even before it came here Ink didn't eat a lot. The fridge was relatively empty save for the capri suns it used to down on a daily basis, the pumpkin pie it stocked up on every thanksgiving season, and a small assortment of other things. But despite literally standing in front of a refrigerator, it felt almost warm. It had spent its days walking under the sun but it hardly warmed a thing. It all just felt too nice.
Ink leaned against the table with the pizza, taking out its book.
[Found house, unreasonably pink and empty but also weirdly nice. Good food but I am NOT about to do that again. Too good. Maybe lab? Hidden? Working on it.]
Ink wasn't about to take its chances with food again. It wasn't hungry anyways. The sight of something familiar from home brought a little comfort, but it also served to be rather unsettling for about the same reasons.
However, not even a food-adverse mold heap like Ink could avoid opening a fridge door just to stare inside. Just to look at all the options it would be taking none of.
The color is jarring to say the least; a bit bright for Ink's taste, but not a bad color. Perhaps such brightness in a place so muted and empty is startling. The saturation was almost comforting to see.
The emptiness, on the other hand, wasn't all too unexpected. Compared to the organized clutter of the last house, it was almost as barren as outside.
Ink tries the knob and the door opens with ease. It stiffened at the smell of food; it was more than done with eating for a long time, it thought. But it had to go in, didn't it? If this was the lab it had to. That excuse was enough to spur it to another count of possible breaking and entering. Honestly though, lock your doors *before* the person gets inside, people!
And on those cat paw shoes skipped, kicking pebbles that quickly got caught in the cracks in the road. Perhaps the high of Ink's escape never quite went down, still sloshing around happily in the rotting pink slop in its head. It had been walking on its toes since it left.
[Got out of the house. There's a lab somewhere. Keep an eye out for buildings.]
It had written that god knows how long ago, and ever since it had it had been vaguely eyeing the gutters of the road for any sign of a building. Now, so far Ink's luck with buildings had been, all things considered, absolutely terrible. But it was willing to stay optimistic It's not like anything could leave it worse off than it was. It was almost certain it was starting to sallow.
The worry came with the concept of going back. Keeping promises. There was one place it knew it couldn't return to, but there was a person it swore to.
~Before the end, I'll run back.~ it concluded.
Minutes, hours, days, months, who knew how much later, a new thing appeared on the horizon. Another building. It snapped Ink out of its walking daze. "House!" It shouted audibly to nobody, bouncing childishly before bounding over uneven asphalt towards the bright pink structure.
Yes, it absolutely should be more wary with houses. Yes, it was sort of expecting something bad. But it assured itself it had seen some of the worst and made it out just fine. It apparently could take a lot more than its flimsy frame seemed capable of. It stood before the house and hopped up the doorstep. This didn't look like a lab, but looks were deceiving!