#just now realizing i probably drew wally too small
Text
I'm Only A Crack In This Castle Of Glass (Hardly Anything Else I Need To Be) PT. 5
Batfamily x Batsis Story!
Word Count: 2.5K
Warnings: Explicit Language, ALL THE ANGST. AND MORE TO COME!
Tags!: @itsnottilly @cloudyskylines @starflyer-104 @iwillstaywiththemforever @justine-en @weirdgirlfromtx @notsostraightweeb @candlestudy @edlothia-baby @soul-end @willieoo @willowoo @peterxwade24 @the-atlantic-french-fry @bad-bouquet-of-emotions @vvipgot7be @pure-princess-97 @atomicsoulhumanspy
Author's Note: I have nothing to say for any of the emotions y'all are about to get from this. Enjoy!-Thorne
She wasn’t sure what she expected when she sat down, but the stretching silence growing between her and her estranged family wasn’t it. She tried to look anywhere but them, not because she was ashamed—far from it. But it was more than awkward sitting across from three brothers and a father she’d not spoken to in three years, let alone tell them she was even alive.
Her eyes found Wally’s as he sat down beside her eldest brother and if looks could’ve killed, he’d been dead and buried.
“Glare at me all you want, but I’m not going to apologize,” he shrugged.
Scowling, she turned her attention to the skyline. “Fuck you,” she spat, crossing her arms.
“At least talk to them, (Y/N).”
“And why should I, Wally?” she questioned, glaring at him. “I don’t have anything to say. If I did, I wouldn’t be here in Central.”
“You’re not leaving until you talk to them,” he finalized with a firm look and she growled low in her throat and resigned herself to her fate.
Her eyes darted to her father’s and she couldn’t for the life of her decipher what was in them. “I’ll talk for an hour,” she told him. “I’m not talking about what I’ve been doing in Central City, so don’t ask. I’m not talking about the life I’ve been living, so don’t ask. You’re only allowed to ask me about my departure and that’s it. But after one hour is up, I’m leaving.”
“Who said you get to leave,” Wally questioned, and she shot him the darkest glower she could muster.
“So help me God, Wally West you’ll either take me home or you’ll fix that fucking elevator and I’ll walk myself home. Because if you don’t, I’ll tell the world who every vigilante is at this table.”
For once she managed to stump him because his eyes went wide—so did her family’s but she didn’t care—and he finally nodded.
“Alright. One hour.”
Seemingly satisfied with his answer, she turned back to her family, more specifically her father. “Why are you here? What do you want from me?”
“Maybe for you to come home, (Y/N),” Jason answered, and she glanced to him.
“Not a chance. Next?”
“(Y/N), you don’t have to be hostile. We’re not going to force you here,” Dick said, and she looked at him now, eyes narrowing.
“The manipulation tactic isn’t going to work on me, Dick. I’m not here for to be tricked into coming back. I’m never coming back.” She cocked her leg over the side of the table and reclined, biting out, “Give me your anger. I’d prefer that instead of whatever this pitiful bullshit you’ve got going on.”
In the eighteen years they’d known their sister they’d never heard her say such a callous thing, but her words had practically slapped Dick across the face because hurt etched onto his expression, then immediately turned into anger.
“You want my anger? Fine.” He stood and pointed at her. “What the hell is wrong with you! Why would just up and disappear like you did! Do you have any idea how scared we were for you! How distraught!”
(Y/N) blinked at him. “Knowing how you like to carry the weight of the world on your shoulders because you can’t help but be a hero? Probably a lot.” She made a dramatic show of looking at her watch. “You’ve got forty minutes. Keep it up.”
Her eyes shifted to Bruce’s. “Did you let them read the letter? Or did you just throw it away after you read it?”
Dick, Jason, and Tim all turned to Bruce at that.
“Letter?” Tim repeated. “What letter?”
(Y/N)’s mouth made an ‘o’ shape and then she smiled knowingly. “Oh, you never showed them the letter, did you?” She looked to her brothers. “I wrote dad a letter the night I left to explain why I was leaving. It’s sugarcoated bullshit but it is the truth.”
Dick’s face contorted in anger. “(Y/N) left a reason behind and you didn’t tell us about it? Three years and not a single word?”
Bruce merely stared at her as he pulled the letter out of his coat pocket. “I was going to burn it when I found her again. Talk to her before anyone else could.”
Jason snatched the letter from his hands. It had faded a bit, softened around the hard edges, like someone had opened it and read it every day for three years.
His eyes scanned the paper, and he met her gaze, voice chock-full of hurt and she had to fight tooth and nail to keep herself from externally reacting. “You left because you thought we didn’t care about you?”
Dick reached over and took the letter. With furrowed brows and a frown, he started to read aloud, and Bruce gazed at (Y/N) as the memory came back to him.
***
Mornings at the manor were unusually quiet in comparison with the evenings. Everyone was typically too tired to argue so it accounted for a peaceful breakfast of soft words and chewing. Everyone had an assigned seat and every child had learned early on not to take the seat that belonged to another brother or their sister because there would be a fight about it.
Dick and Jason sat next to each other and (Y/N) took the seat at the end of that side; Tim and Damian took the other side—oldest to youngest, just the neat and even way Bruce liked it.
It was rare for any of the boys to be awake before him or Alfred and (Y/N) was usually the first kid to the table, the boys wandering in just minutes after her. Oddly enough, that morning she hadn’t come down for breakfast—which she always came to.
Bruce looked at Alfred. “Is (Y/N) coming down?”
Alfred hummed and gently maneuvered Tim’s arm to the side to he could set down the plate. “When I went to her door, it was locked, and I received no conversation from inside.”
Jason snorted and sipped his coffee. “Probably had a long night with her friends and is still out. I know I would be.”
“How would you know?” Tim interrupted. “You died before you got to the eleventh grade.”
“You’re one to talk, dropout,” Dick countered, and Damian sighed.
“Richard, you dropped out of college. The only son of Batman who has actually completed an entire bout of schooling is me.”
The three boys turned on him with scowls and retorted, “No one asked you, pipsqueak.” Damian glared back at them.
Bruce rolled his eyes, using the side of his fork to cut into his omelet. “Let’s try not to start a free-for-all here in the breakfast room, please.” He glanced at Alfred. “She’s probably tired from all the ceremonies. Let her sleep.”
Alfred nodded. “Of course, Master Bruce. She should be well rested this evening.”
But when the evening came, Alfred still hadn’t been able to get (Y/N) to unlock her bedroom nor speak to him. He certainly wasn’t worried, but it was off for her to be so reclusive. When Bruce and the boys came back from patrol, he mentioned it to him.
“Miss (Y/N) hasn’t come out from her bedroom, Master Bruce. Nor has she said a single word all day.”
Bruce’s brows furrowed and he tugged the cowl off, rising from the seat at the Batcomputer. “I’ll go check on her,” he replied. “You deal with…” his steel eyes drifted to Dick who had Tim in a headlock and Jason who was giving Damian a noogie. “Them,” he finalized, leaving the poor butler behind.
He knocked on the door to her room and pressed his ear to it. “(Y/N)? You haven’t come out all day. Is everything alright?”
Nothing. Not even a breath.
“(Y/N), are you in there?” he asked again and when he didn’t receive a confirmation, he raised his arm, running his fingers along the doorframe until he touched a small metal piece. He pulled it down and stuck it in the door, wiggling the knob for a second before it clicked, and he opened the door.
“Sweetheart, we’ve been trying to—” Bruce went silent when he saw the kempt room. Bed neatly made, everything organized and put away. Even her clothes hamper was empty.
He blinked and walked into the room, quickly heading to the bathroom to check for her there. It was empty as well, and just as clean, leaving him stunned as he exited the bath.
Wandering over to her desk, he saw an elegant envelope sitting on top of her laptop, his name written in beautiful penmanship. He picked it up and unfolded it, pulling out the multi-page letter. He drew his eyes along the golden lines, reading her words.
Dad,
I don’t really know how to start this letter. Truth be told I’ve written at least six before this one, and even then, I’m not entirely happy with it. But if you’re reading this, I’m not here anymore. I haven’t hurt myself in anyway, you don’t need to worry about Vicki Vale or Jack Ryder reporting the discovery of my body. I mean it in a literal sense—I’m not in Gotham anymore. Neither am I ever coming back.
Don’t think this is your fault. You’re a good father, the best I could’ve been given, and my brothers are good siblings. But the truth is that I’m not fit for this family of heroes. And I never have been. My best when trying to be what all of you are, was never good enough and I’ve spent eighteen years staring at your backs, waiting for you all to realize that I’m still here, that I still matter even if I’m not like you. And I don’t want to feel like a stranger in my own home any longer.
I don’t want you to look for me. I know you will, but I wish you wouldn’t. This isn’t some spur of the moment thing I decided to do the night after graduation. If you look at my bank records, I’ve been withdrawing cash from my savings since freshman year—this is four years of planning, so please understand that I’m doing this because I don’t want to be found—ever.
I’ll leave the story for the media up for you, though I doubt that they’ll care long enough to make a deal of it. It’ll pass like winter does spring and they’ll move on to the next bigger story.
Thank you for everything dad, and good luck with Gotham—keep it safe like you always have. And I hope that one day when you think of me, you won’t feel disappointment. I’ve only ever tried to be something that when you looked down on me, you’d only be proud, and I hope one day I’ll achieve what I always dreamed about. Eighteen is young to be on your own and I’m scared. But I’ll be okay—I always have been.
So do me a favor and don’t spend too much time over this. There are plenty more younger kids that need a parent’s hand on their backs to steady them like you once did for me. Find one and fill my spot. Let them shine brighter than I ever could. Let them be the one worthy to be a Wayne—I know I never was.
-(Y/N)
Bruce barely had time to grasp the back of her chair to keep himself from falling to his knees in shock. The letter was clenched in his hand and his lungs wouldn’t take in air like he wanted them to, his heart aching with each palpitation. He looked around the room to her dresser drawers, willing the strength into his legs to moved over to it. He opened every drawer and to his astonishment, they were empty. Hurrying to the bathroom, he noticed the drawers in there were empty as well. She was really gone. And he had no idea what to do.
***
Tears were in Dick’s eyes when he finished the letter and he looked up at her. “How could you ever think we didn’t care about you, (Y/N)?”
She didn’t want to have this conversation. She didn’t want to sit there and explain every time she asked her brothers if they wanted to do something with her and they conveniently had something else to do. Didn’t want to explain every school and extracurricular performance that went unattended and left a little girl standing in front of a crowd barely managing to stave off the tears as she bowed and thanked them for coming. She didn’t want to remember all the memories that chipped away at her heart with every disappointment that occurred. All she wanted to do was leave.
(Y/N) had earlier returned to her original position, hands in her lap and she clenched her fists until her nails bit into the skin of her palms, eyes directed anywhere but Dick’s.
“I think it’s time we call this little reunion done,” she said, standing to her feet. “We’re not going to get anywhere.”
“Not if you run again,” Jason muttered, unconsciously wiping a tear from his eye.
She pointed at him, hissing, “I didn’t run the first time, Jason. I left. On my own accord.”
“You ran instead of coming to us, (Y/N),” Tim said, and she threw her hands above her head in disbelief.
“What the fuck did you want me to do! Wander down into the cave and beg at your feet for someone to pay attention to me! To at least pretend like I was a sister! I did! Every day!”
(Y/N) picked up her purse and yanked it up her arm. “Cassandra seems to be fitting in better than I did. So go and dote on her as the younger sibling. I’m not interested in the position anymore.”
“It’s not a competition,” Dick explained. “We love you just as much as we love Cass.”
She paused and gazed at him, voice laced with disappointment as she disagreed, “Then you should make sure she’s content in the manor, because if you love her with any semblance of how you loved me? It’s not at all.”
Her eyes shifted to Wally’s. “Fix the elevator. Now.”
He stayed seated for a moment, the two of them staring each other down, then he nodded wordlessly and moved to the elevator, starting it again. Her family stayed seated, and she gave them one final look before she followed Wally, silently waiting for the doors to open.
When they did, she stepped inside and turned around, hitting the button. Just before the doors closed, Wally stopped them and murmured, “You’re making a mistake.”
“My worst mistake was becoming friends with you.” (Y/N) blinked at him, then reached up and shoved his hand away from the door and as it closed, she remarked coldly, “And you can go to hell for all I care.”
#batfamily x reader#batfamily x reader imagines#batfamily x reader imagine#batfamily imagines#batfamily imagine#batfamily#batsis x batfam#batsis x batfamily imagines#batsis x batfamily imagine#batsis imagines#batsis imagine#batsis#bruce wayne#batman#dick grayson#nightwing#jason todd#red hood#tim drake#red robin#damian wayne#robin#dc comics#dc imagines#dc imagine#dc
639 notes
·
View notes
Text
Angel of the Ink Machine, chapter 2: Compromise
The premise of this AU is simple: Sammy leaves the studio instead of Henry, and as a result, Joey needs a new partner in crime. He finds one in Allison. Power struggles, sacrifices, passion, ecstasy and tragedy ensues.
---
Allison’s first few weeks at Joey Drew Studios had been interesting, to say the least. Joey had introduced her to the music room on her first day, and all had seemed to go well. The next day, however, just as she was setting things up in her recording booth, a small, blonde woman who hadn’t been around the day before had come in to interrupt her. Apparently, the last voice actress for the part of Alice Angel- Susie Campbell- had been away the previous day and hadn’t been told that she’d been replaced. The poor woman was heartbroken, and Allison had felt bad for taking a role that was essentially meaningless to her from someone who clearly cared much more about it.
That pity only lasted until Allison realized that half of the music department had taken a disliking to her, seemingly overnight. It was hard to tell how much of that was their loyalty to Susie and how much of that was just their regular standoffish-ness. Either way, Allison didn’t much care for the whole high school-level cattiness of it. Any friends she’d make in this studio would be outside the music department.
Voice acting was fine. Dating Joey was wonderful. She hadn’t gotten to play with the ink machine yet, but they’d done other magic together. She didn’t care for his secretiveness about his plans for the machine worked, though, and after a while she decided to seek out answers on her own.
Her first thought was to ask the man who was building the machine, Thomas Connor. He said that he didn’t know how this thing was supposed to work and didn’t want to, and sure as hell wouldn’t tell some random music department kid if he did. She asked his assistant, Wally Franks, who told her a round-a-bout tale about how he’d drawn up the first blueprint. This was not information Allison could use.
There was one other person she could ask, but it was a long shot. Despite her best efforts, Allison hadn’t fully avoided the high school nonsense of the music room, and she knew the reputation that their projectionist, Norman Polk had as a keeper of unknowable secrets. Allison thought that they were being ridiculous, but it was worth a shot, and he was open enough about meeting with her over lunch one day.
“So, you’re working with Joey Drew on the magical stuff,” he said. It wasn’t a question.
“Uh, yes. Does everyone know?”
Norman laughed a little. “Most people here don’t even know that magic is real. Anyhow, I assume that you came to me because you’re interested in knowing some kind of secret?” If he was annoyed about the new girl knowing his reputation, he didn’t show it. If anything, he seemed amused.
“Yes. Honestly, I just want to know as much about Joey as I can. Especially anything that has to do with magic, and the ink machine.”
“Well, I guess telling you can’t be any more dangerous than him keeping it from you. Follow me.”
“You want to know a secret about Joey?” Norman asked as they walked, “he hires people he thinks are vulnerable and down on their luck. So Joey Drew Studios has some teenagers working here, some people with disabilities from the war, and a lot more non-whites and queer people than you’d expect. Not a secret, just a pattern I’ve noticed. But I know that what you want is real secrets.”
Norman took her to a room labelled, “The Archives.” Within it was hundreds of audio logs in locked glass containers. “Joey audio-records us,” Norman explained. “I don’t know his purposes for it, but he clearly does it a whole lot. The glass bins are locked, obviously, but I stole one off his desk a couple days ago. Wanna hear it?” The man’s face had gone from proud and amused to dead-serious.
“Sure...”
Norman pressed the button, and the audio log played. It was Joey Drew speaking to Thomas Connor. They were talking about how to change Bendy from a soulless abomination into a lovable cartoon, and it ended with Joey promising that if these things are soulless, he would get them a soul. After all, I own thousands of them.
“You wanna know what I think? I think that Joey is great at preying upon the desperate. And quite recently, he made a person desperate to be a cartoon character again. So, Allison. I don’t know what your role in this magical business is, but if you can help it, don’t let Joey hurt Susie Campbell- she’s my fiancé. I’ve already told her to be careful around Mr. Joey Drew, but...”
Allison was struggling to take this in. Joey wanted to kill people for this project? That was insane! And yet, some of those pentagrams in the basement had looked awfully large. “I’m sure he doesn’t mean that he wants to murder people. But I’ll talk to him, Norman. I promise. And I do have power over him, so you can count on me!”
---
Allison kept her promise, and brought it up the next time she was at Joey’s house.
“Joey. I need you to tell me right now if this ink machine project involves killing people.”
Joey immediately tensed. He’d been thinking for weeks of a way to break that to Allison that wouldn’t make her run for the hills. “Not... killing. I mean, they’ll still be alive. It’s more like putting them in another body. Yes, the process does involve causing their old body to bleed out, but their consciousness will still be there- probably.”
“Probably?” her face was remarkably calm, given the circumstances.
“I’ve tested the machine on rodents. None of them came out physically resembling a cartoon- only your potion lets me do that. But some of them came out acting like rodents, some of them came out acting like cartoon characters, and some of them went berserk. I’m trying to figure out how to make more of them come out as either rodents or cartoons. If the person retains their personality, they could basically be actors. And if they come out with the cartoon personality, well...”
The more Joey spoke, the more withering Allison’s glare became. “Okay. None of that. I’m not going to destroy people for this. Going forwards, only retaining the consciousness is considered a good outcome. Capisce?”
“Okay,” Joey said, starting to regret letting Allison into the project.
“And I assume that you were going to tell the sacrifices exactly what’s going to happen to them beforehand?”
“Well... Allison, how many people do you think would do this if we were to tell them everything? I was going to tell them that they’d go to sleep and then wake up as the cartoon character they want to be.”
Allison shook her head and appeared to think things over a moment. “You know what, Joey? I’ll do this. But we can’t do it without my potion, so we’re going to do it on my terms. You understand? So, here are my terms: one, we test that machine. We test it on rodents until we have at least 70% of them coming out acting like rodents. Alright? Two, don’t sacrifice anyone without my permission. Ever. And three: I want to be the one who talks people into becoming sacrifices. I have a silver tongue, too, and I don’t trust you to be honest with people. Those are the terms. Take them or leave them.”
“I’ll... I’ll take them. But Allison, if you’re going to have this much power over the project, I need you to show that you’re loyal to it.”
Allison smiled. “Of course. I’m sure that we could work something out!”
---
“What do you think- can you break the lock, Wally? I can’t believe I locked myself out like this.”
“Hmm... Well, Shawn has been tryin' to teach me how to pick a lock. I could try.” Wally got to work on the door and had busted it open within two minutes.
“Alright! Thanks, Wally.” Joey handed Wally the 20$ he’d promised him. They parted ways, and then Joey got to work scouring Allison’s house for that potion recipe.
It was nine weeks and four days after Joey had agreed to Allison’s terms. Six weeks, and only now were they making their first human sacrifice. Worse, they’d wasted hundreds of dollars worth of pet store rodents and a few dozen hours spent altering their ritual. They’d gotten those rodents to turn into toons- mostly perfect toons- that acted like animals at a high enough rate to satisfy Allison, and now Allison was headed to Susie’s apartment to talk her into becoming their sacrifice. Joey wished he could be there, making sure that Allison was doing it right and not scaring Susie away from the idea in the name of honesty. But the one benefit to this situation was knowing that Allison wouldn’t be here, and that after this she would be headed straight to the studio- he wasn’t leaving this place without that potion recipe, and thus full power over the project.
Joey checked all the obvious places like cupboards and drawers, paged through binders full of recipes for various potions and food items, and then checked the obvious “hiding place” places, such as under her bed, under rugs, and so on. It didn’t help that Allison’s house was rather cluttered. For all Joey knew, he could have missed the recipe while sorting through the various papers on the kitchen table. He checked his watch and learned that he’d spent too long here and had supposed to be at the studio an hour ago. Well, he had to give up and leave sometime. Before he left though, he went back to one of Allison’s recipe binders, where Joey had bookmarked a page labelled, “Memory spell? Failed.” He tore out the page. Allison clearly wasn’t the best at creating spells, but seeing it had given Joey an idea of something he could add to the ink machine rituals. It would take at best a few weeks to perfect, but what if he could control what the sacrifices remembered and forgot? There were so many potential uses...
---
Norman had been right about Susie being desperate to be Alice again. Susie had been furious when Allison had showed up at her apartment, but once Allison had said the words, “Joey and I want to make you Alice again. We agreed that you’re the best person for the job,” she’d broken down in tears.
“D-do you mean that?”
“Of course I do! It was the plan from the very beginning. Susie, no one is as well-suited to being Alice Angel than you are. Now, I’ll still be her voice actress, but you’re going to make history- trust me, people will remember you as Alice for decades after this. Joey found an improvised means to bring you closer to Alice than any actress ever has been to a character. The process will seem scary, but Joey will help you, I’ll be there every step of the way. I’m pretty excited myself, honestly! No one’s ever done this before. So, are you with us?”
“Well, that sounds... too good to be true. I mean, even just getting my role back would be nice wonderful, but here you are promising me fame and all of that... But you’re being awfully vague about it. What exactly do you have planned?”
“Come with me to the studio. It has to be seen to be believed.”
#Bendy and the Ink Machine#allison pendle#joey drew#norman polk#susie campbell#my fanfiction#Angel of the Ink Machine AU
10 notes
·
View notes
Note
Can we get a fic of Everyone's first reaction to snowflake?
“Everyone was used to supernatural bullshit and as the toons already existed for several years now, they already knew that the Ink could create life. So while there was a bit of shock for some at the thought of the Janitor being the new father of a toon of his own, they mostly congratulated Wally on his new son and/or gave him parenting advice.”
...Sorry, this feels like a cop out, so we just gotta throw a child into a different dimension for kicks and giggles and character development.
Knowing the magic user's history with this kind of thing, Snowflake couldn't help but feel nervous when he saw Joey painting a large circle on the wall and intricate symbols within the said circle.
"G-grandpa Joey, what are you doing?"
"Opening a portal to a different dimension." The animator replied nonchalantly. "An important key ingredient for several reversal spells no longer seems to exist in this one, so I'm getting more from the closest one that has a lot of it before the Ink starts acting up again."
"Oh?" The little devil looked intrigued, the last time a visitor from another dimension came to their own, he was strange, but friendly! And wondered what the rest of that dimension, or other ones like it were like. "Can I come? I-I'll be good I promise!"
"Well..." Joey brushed his mustache in thought as the portal started to open. "Other dimensions can be quite unpredictable, especially ones where magic is much more secretive than it is in our own, I don't think the studio on the other side even has living toons yet!" The animator fidgeted with his collar. "And given the track record other Joeys have with their own studios and magic, I don't think it's smart for me to take you..."
"Pleeeeeaaaaasse!" the imp begged. "I promise that I'll stay close and not run off! ...unless it's an emergency."
"Hmm..."
The magic user narrowed his eyebrows and continued to stroke his mustache as he thought about the potential consequences for bringing Snowflake along. The thought of a distraught Wally discovering that he had taken his son somewhere dangerous and the kid got hurt as a result had made the man immune to the imp's otherwise irresistible puppy eyes, but the Ink behind the imp slowly rising from a puddle to a featureless figure that was making threatening gestures made him quickly realize that the consequences for NOT bringing Snowflake along might be even worse than taking him.
"Okay."
"Yay!" the little devil cheered, taking Joey by the hand and pulling him through the portal. "C'mon! Let's go see what other dad's like!"
"Wait, wait, wait, wait," the old man gave a sharp tug on the speckled imp as he tried to run off and knelt down to be closer to his eye level. "This is *just* a last-resort errand run, nothing more, nothing less. Now that we're here, we are going to find the ingredient, get it and get out. Ideally, we won't even come across our alternate selves, let alone speak to them!"
"Why?"
Joey looked around nervously before bringing his voice down to a whisper and gestured for Snowflake to do the same.
"Because of the butterfly effect we'll bring here! How do you think the Wally on this side will react when you tell him you're his son from a different dimension when where he's from, magic is genuinely not real for him?"
"...He'll freak out?"
"Yes! Not only will he freak out but he'll probably tell everyone he knows! Including this world's Joey, who judging by his nickname; "That shi- shoot heel puppeteer", is the last person who needs to know about magic, let alone how to use it..."
"Oh. Yeah, that doesn't sound good..." the imp agreed as he suddenly regretted his decision. "Do you think it's too late to throw me back-"
The pair gazed at the now blank spot on the wall where they came from.
"...Unfortunately yes, so stay close and put on a disguise."
"I-I didn't bring one..." the imp sheepishly responded. "...Sorry, I got too caught up in the excitement."
Joey sighed deeply as he took off his glasses and sweater vest, putting them on the kid toon instead.
"It's not the best, but it'll do for now as long as we don't stick around long enough for them to see past it, so let's hurry out of here!"
Snowflake nodded and guided Joey as he tried to navigate the similar-yet different studio. (The man did not wear glasses for the sake of aesthetic.)
The layout seemed similar enough, but there were less pipes running through the building, the colors were duller, the stale smell of tobacco, old coffee, sweat, and a coppery-earthy scent that reminded Joey of blood but wasn't quite similar enough for him to call it that lingered in every single room they entered, the employees that they passed might as well have been reanimated corpses with how drained of energy they looked, all of them didn't even so much as acknowledge the pair's presence.
That was, until, an unfamiliar-looking yet familiar sounding janitor took notice. The man didn't look like Snowflake's dad, he was a lanky fellow and wore the same hat that his own father wore to work, but the similarities in appearance stopped right there. This world's Wally had shaggy, dark brown hair, eyes so dark that they looked black, a crooked nose, and when he smiled at them, Snowflake could clearly see that the man was missing a tooth.
"Hey, how'd you two get in 'ere?"
Joey cursed under his breath before answering the other Wally.
"Well, I was just-"
The dimension-traveling duo suddenly felt dozens of angry eyes on them, which had melted into confusion and mild intriguement as they realized that the man who spoke looked more like a kindly grandpa with an odd-looking Bendy doll with him instead of their sleazy boss. The pair of outsiders were afraid they fucked everything up before to the relief of the pair and the horror to everybody else, they heard the voice of Sammy in the other room shouting "God dammit Joey! I told you time and time again to stay out of the music department!" followed by the revving of a chainsaw.
The animator was quick to realize his mistake as he cleared his throat and did his best 'sounds like a normal voice but isn't MY normal voice' voice.
"-I was just looking for a herbal shop nearby but got turned around. If one of you fine folks could give my grandson and I directions, we'll happily get out of your hair."
Wally frowned in confusion as he looked at the very obviously not-human creature who smiled meekly at him and waved. He shrugged off the mild weirdness as he remembered that he did know where an herbal shop was.
"Dat's all? No problem! Herbal shop's right next to a really good burgah joint, has a statue of a knight wranglin' a unicorn right outside da place, ya can't miss it, an' by extension, ya can't miss da herbal shop eithah."
"Why thank you, you're too kind..."
"Oh and uh, Sorry if da musicians 'ere freaked ya out." The janitor adjusted his hat, it now covered the man's eyes. "Our music director recently got re-hirahed but nobody's willin' ta forgive da boss ova what he put him through, not dat I blame 'em, I get jitteahs every time I think about it happenin' ta me too!"
Joey nodded sympathetically as he reached for his companion's hand and internally panicked as he couldn't find it.
---
Snowflake ran off, the eyes on his back and by proxy, the pressure of knowing that the fate of this world and his own was on his back was far too intense. In his mad rush, he had only made his situation worse with everywhere he ran as he had lost Joey's glasses on accident, which was a vital part of the disguise.
"Holy sheit! is that a bloody livin' toy?!"
"What in the goddamn... Bertrum! Come look! You gotta see this!"
"My word! What has Drew done?"
"Okay, this time I'm finally going to quit for real! I swear, these hallucinations are just getting worse every time I come into work!"
"It... it worked! Tom, look!"
"Or at least, this one looks better than the first model- Hey! Get back here!"
It was terrifying thinking about how these alternate versions of the people he knew and grew to love, ones who shared their voices and careers, but not appearances, memories, and experiences could very well be his enemies. Most chilling of all, he heard Joey's voice in the crowd.
"Well done Tommy! At least this one looked halfway presentable!"
He shuddered at the thought of that Joey getting his hands on him. He didn't even know where he ran off to, only that he had to escape from them, he then squeezed himself into a small crack in the wall, an easy feat for a boneless ink creature, not so much for anything else.
His heart pounded loudly against his chest, the little imp tried to hush it, and prayed that the noise wouldn’t give him away he just needed to calm down. But his prayers went unanswered as the 'click-clack' of a pair of high heels passed by, and a woman crouched down, possibly hearing him.
“Now how on earth did you manage to wedge yourself in there, little guy?”
He recognized that voice all right, he scooched deeper into his hiding spot, hoping she’d leave him alone. The woman, the Susie Campbell of this world judging by her voice, might’ve looked at him with concern, but something about her just felt… wrong to him. He knew of alternate realities, good ones, bad ones, and downright weird ones, but this one felt uncanny to him and he just wanted to go home, it wasn't outright worse than most dimensions, but it seemed so bleak and miserable.
Hopefully he was wrong, but as of right now, it felt like this was a world that wouldn't even so much as bat an eye at its own destruction.
"I-I shouldn't have asked in the f-first place..." he muttered to himself. "I s-should've j-just left Joey to do his errand and s-stayed out of it..."
"Hey," the woman gently knocked on the wall, all the imp could see of her was her face, a face that looked mostly normal except for her left eye, which looked glassy and didn't look at him like her right eye did. "Are you okay in there?"
Snowflake stayed quiet.
"Oh no..." the woman muttered to herself. "Don't panic, I'll go get help!"
She said as she left, but her words didn't make the little guy feel any better.
He slowly crawled out of his hiding spot, ready to hunt down another one while fighting off the guilt that came with making the other Susie worry about him, while her eye was weird, she seemed just as nice as the one from his own dimension.
What seemed less nice however, was the sudden cold, yet firm grip on his shoulder.
"You know, it's very rude ta ignore folks who's just tryin' ta help you."
"Eep!"
The imp spun around to face a man with a familiar voice, he was a tall, dark-skinned, older man with an eye patch on his right eye, had a thin frame, and attire that vaguely reminded Snowflake of a comic about a western vampire hunter that Buddy showed him.
"Awfully jumpy, aren't ya, kiddo?" Norman chuckled as he knelt down to his eye level. "I get that a lot from people. But in all seriousness, we can't just have yous wanderin' around wherever you please, this here studio's a dang deathtrap, even on the best of days."
"S-sorry Norman..." Snowflake adjusted Joey's sweater vest as a realization dawned on him: judging by the studio workers' lack of a surprised reaction to him, this world might be more magical than his own world's Joey assumed. "Hey, wait a minute, are toons real h-here too? Can I find Bendy, Alice and Boris around here?"
Norman raised an eyebrow in confusion, but thankfully for the imp's sake, he stayed calm.
"Mr. Drew's tryin' but he ain't got a dang thing ta show for it. Although, I'm kinda hoping he can't, it doesn't sit too right with me. Just call it a gut feelin', but I don't trust that anythin' good will come from him messing with things like that."
"Y-yeah..." Snowflake nodded. "I've been here for less than f-fifteen minutes and I think I can see exactly what you mean. This place's Joey seems so much worse than my Joey."
"Sorry ta hear that little guy..." Norman knelt down to the little demon. "So, would ya mind ta tell me about this 'other Joey?"
"Oh, sure thing!"
---
True to her word, when Susie returned, she brought over three people; Wally, Joey who was now wearing his slightly broken glasses (Who Snowflake was relieved to see), and a shirtless, long-haired man with a chainsaw in his hands.
He was tall and broad, had dark brown hair and tan skin, his eyes were a stormy gray, and they were sharp with a steadfast determination that made Snowflake feel nervous, the little imp felt like there was something deeply terrifying about this man, and not just because he was currently carrying a dangerous weapon. Although, he couldn't deny that he felt a sense of familiarity with this man that he had not felt with the others in this dimension.
Snowflake felt like he's met this man before.
"Alright, and he should be right here..." The voice actress trailed off as she saw the timid devil shyly wave at her, very much freed from his wall prison and seemed to be chatting with her favorite projectionist. "Oh! Hi Norman! Thanks for getting him out for us and keeping him company!"
"It was no problem, the kid wasn't half bad company."
"Ya know kid, we're glad ta see ya okay, but your grandpops and I was lookin' everywhere for you! Not gonna lie, ya gave us both a scare when ya ran off alone like dat."
"The fuck is that thing?"
"Sammy!" The woman elbowed the shirtless man in the ribs. "Be nice!"
"Alright..." The man rolled his eyes and gave a forced smile that showed off black gums and yellowish-grayish teeth that creeped Snowflake out (the smile itself, not the man's gums or teeth, judging by his smell, he was an avid smoker and it was at least normal for him to have a mouth like that, the smile however... he doesn't think a man's smile should be that wide.). As he lifted the little devil up by the shirt like a scruffed kitten, he presented him to Joey. "Now then, is this your lost little lamb?"
"Yes." Joey reached for the imp. "Please don't hold him like that."
"Nearest exit is down the hall, take a right turn when you reach the giant broken pipe that's leaking everywhere and hasn't been touched for at least a week." The man gestured fluidly as he still held up that creepy smile. "As... lovely as it was for you two to visit us and our little studio, we really should be getting back to work before Joey decides to fire and blacklist everyone in this room for loitering or something."
"Uh... thanks?" Joey suddenly snapped upright. "Wait, how are you all so calm about this?! All of you are barely even reacting over a living cartoon character right there!"
"Speaking of which do you know who doesn't need to know about that? Our boss. You claim you're not here for a meet and greet and I don't think this should turn into one. You got the information you came here for, now get what you needed from here and get out."
"Wow, you're a rather blunt fellow, aren't you?"
"You could say so."
"W-well, I-it was scary, but it was also nice meeting all of you! Maybe we should visit again later so we can know each other better!"
"Oooh! I'll look forward to it!" Susie smiled warmly. "Good luck with your ingredient hunt, boys!"
Sammy started to shove the pair down the hall as he felt they wouldn't leave otherwise.
"Yeah, yeah, goodbye and all that, see you soon, I won't forget to write... Have yourselves some happy travels! Goodbye again."
The musician led them out of the building and dusted off his hands as he returned to the others who did not look happy with him.
"That was very rude, Lawrence..." Susie scolded. "They just wanted our help!"
Wally shook his head but didn't add anything.
"And we gave it!” He hissed. “Do you really think it would be safe for them to stay and talk with the shitheel around? Especially after what he just did to us?! Do you want HIM to know that there's a different version of him who got everything he's wanted and more? What do you think he'll do to them when he finds them? Do you want to find out?"
Susie's face scrunched up in realization as the other two men uncomfortably shuffled in their spots.
"I thought so..."
"...Think they'll come back?" Norman piped up. "I kinda wanted to talk with that other Joey."
The musician shrugged.
"Do ya at least think we'll find a way ta get ta 'em ourselves?"
"Maybe? If they would a way here, I wouldn't be surprised if we could get there."
"Wanna look for a way there? Ya gotta admit you're curious what the other us are like too!"
"Hmm... Well, maybe after hours."
#Bendy and the Ink Machine#Hell's Studio AU#joey drew#snowflake the demon#wally franks#norman polk#susie campbell#sammy lawrence#fanfic
8 notes
·
View notes
Text
Still Life (Batim Portal AU)
Chapter One – “An old man walks into an abandoned studio” sounds like a beginning of a bad joke. It is.
Summary: We here at Joey Drew Studios are very, very happy to inform you about a special upcoming event. What shall the event be? Now that’s a surprise, but we can promise plenty of old faces, reunions, party and some real entertainment. And cake!
First chapter: [you’re here]
Next chapter: [coming soon]
✪ ✪ ✪
The taxi driver kept looking at him in the rear view.
And not like looking looking. Not with a bored nor curious peeks every now and then, no, no.
Cautiously glaring. Interested but suspicious.
Weird. Sure, the destination was rather special but here’s the thing. A special destination in a small not-so-special town that’s been there for a very long time? Nothing special about that.
The animation studio surely used to wake some sensation thirty years back (alongside many complaints) but these days… it shouldn’t be anything more than a part of the local ecosystem. It even “grew out” a bit on the outskirts. Never integrated to the rest of the place, as if the streets tried to reach there before but, like roots hitting a stone, changed their directions to literally anywhere else.
To be fair, he too did hit that rock.
Being outside of the cab, Henry Stein took a deep breath of fresh air. Don’t get it wrong, the location was nice. All this nature around.
Still. Anywhere else.
He was glad to have gotten out. The atmosphere started to lay heavily on his shoulders. Even the lack of usual small-talk was off-putting and he wasn’t the most talkative person!
Something clicked and his attention snapped back to the vehicle he just exited. It was the trunk. Seems like the other man won’t be that kind to help him with the suitcase. Not that he would ever demand such a thing but maybe he’s gotten a bit used to it. Especially nowadays, with so many years on his back.
Besides, he knew it wasn’t an act of unkindness.
The driver didn’t want to get out, Henry figured while paying him through the window.
Huh.
“I’m sorry, am I misunderstanding something or did the price for the ride go up compared to what it was before?” he furrowed his eyebrows. It’s been years but he remembered the road from the town’s center to here well. Oh, very well, “It’s as if… the price has doubled?”
The driver had an unlit cigarette in his mouth. He was moving it around with his mouth. Probably wanted to lit it for a while now.
“No, the price’s the same. I already counted for your way back.”
“Ah,” Henry smiled politely, “But you see, I don’t know when I’ll need to get back, so-“
“When I finish my Pall Mall, that’s when,” there was a slight impatient growl behind his voice, “Look, pal, I don’t know what you’re expecting to find there, but this gold ore has been mined to death. You are going to kiss that beautiful door handle goodbye and wait for me to finish my smoke.”
Old animator stared at him, flabbergasted.
Then he stood straight with the polite smile back on his face.
“And I thought I couldn’t believe I’m really going to be back there. Still, I do have a very believable invitation and therefore my request to pay for just one ride stands.”
Loud sigh, shuffle of papers, flicker of a lighter, and Henry, followed by the sound of his suitcase’s wheels, was on his way to the building.
Meanwhile, the man in the cab kept followed him with his eyes, turning away only to let the smoke out of his car.
Had it not been the money, he would have already left the place. But gas had its costs and he didn’t want to waste it on turning around when this crazy old man finally realizes there’s nothing grand there waiting for him and calls for a ride back. Calls him that is, as he was the only ride around here.
Knocking ashes from his cigarette, he looked around. It really was a wild place. Abandoned. The town hall wasn’t even bothering to keep the road in a good condition. It was getting a bit bumpy but not like anyone would care anyway.
Then his gaze went back to the traveler, or more precisely, it landed on the parking lot that the said traveler was walking across.
There weren’t any cars save for rusty few parked close to the entry to the workshop.
Weeds managed to crack through the concrete in many places. No one wiped off the leaves.
In years.
He turned the engine back on.
✪ ✪ ✪
Maybe it was because he was even older, but the old man didn’t seem bothered by those sights. To Henry, what mattered was how different the building looked like in the terms of its size. Just look at that thing! More floors, wings on both sides, surely there were some additions on the other side too.
His hand was on the handle. He took a deep breath.
Not out of fear nor worry.
Excitement. He was back.
Slightly chapped lips formed a big grin.
The driver’s jaw dropped and his cigarette quickly followed through.
✪ ✪ ✪
The door opened.
✪ ✪ ✪
Had Henry turned back, he would notice the terrified expression on the other man’s face. Maybe it would have changed something.
Who knows.
But in this story, Henry has entered Joey Drew Studios once again.
✪ ✪ ✪
What is he seeing? The actual surroundings? All the memories playing in his head that happened around them? Both past and present trying to fit in together in his sight?
What is he feeling? Is it nostalgia? Is it happiness? Is it anxiety? Some kind of blend?
Oh… so familiar and yet so different. He found himself looking with shiny eyes at every little detail he remembered, no matter if it was as important as the logo with wheels still turning around the exact same way they used to when he helped to install them, or if it was as mundane as skirting-boards. And then, such a weird thing, how intimidating the different things were. Again, simple changes, like the new chairs, or something popping the eye right away, like the prizes, the decorations, the reception, the-
And just like that the balance pan favored the side of what’s been making him uneasy.
No one was present at the reception.
Actually, there was nobody at all.
Henry wrinkled his nose and adjusted his glasses, turning around.
Surely someone had to be there. The electricity was on. The wheels were turning. The lights were on.
And the door wasn’t locked.
And the letter-
He reached into his pocket and pulled out a neatly folded piece of paper that looked… a bit less neat now that it spent a few hours under his butt.
But what it said remained just as clear.
DEAR MISTER STEIN,
WE HERE AT JOEY DREW STUDIOS ARE VERY, VERY HAPPY TO INFORM YOU ABOUT A SPECIAL UPCOMING EVENT. WHAT SHALL THE EVENT BE? NOW THAT’S A SURPRISE, BUT WE CAN PROMISE PLENTY OF OLD FACES, REUNIONS, PARTY AND SOME REAL ENTERTAINMENT. AND CAKE!
WE HAVE SOMETHING THAT THE WORLD OF ANIMATION REALLY NEEDS TO SEE AND WE WANT YOU TO BE A PART OF IT. BUT FIRST, WE NEED TO SHOW IT TO YOU. THE VETERANS! THE PIONEERS! THE ANIMATORS THAT BROUGHT TO LIFE THINGS WHICH STAGGERED THE IMAGINATION OF MILLIONS! IN FACT WE HAVE A LOT WE NEED TO SHOW YOU. IT’S ALL IN HERE, AT THE OLD WORKSHOP.
WE WOULD BE THRILLED TO BE GRACED WITH YOUR PRESENCE. TREMENDOUS FUN AWAITS!
JOEY DREW STUDIOS
And then addresses and all that stuff. He didn’t make it up. The building looking as if it was working wasn’t made up. None of it was made up!
Then… where were the people that sent him this letter?
He left the suitcase behind the reception’s desk. Just now he realized that he really was (was he?) alone – while he was rereading the invitation, the taxi driver finally took his leave.
Right. The taxi driver. His words. His… behavior…
Henry shook his head. No. Come on. You can’t make this up.
The old man took a few courageous steps towards the corridor. Again, full of new wonders just as of the old grind.
He stopped. There were words written at the end of the hall. In large letters.
In ink.
Blue eyes squinted to read them from this distance.
Oh, it was a banner.
Oh-
He beamed.
Suddenly his steps became a lot more energetic.
At the end of the banner’s message there was an arrow pointing to the right. He followed it.
It read: Surprise this way.
Of course. Ominous but, goddamnit, that was it. It had this energy.
His energy.
He hurried through the next corridor. There were balloons on the sides. Arrows pointing at a door at the very end.
What people are going to be there too? Oh, he would love to see Norman again. Or Sammy, or Wally- actually, why has he not seen them all this time?
Another door handle. He opened them without a care in the world.
And there was no world behind those doors. Or, maybe, a completely new one.
As in – it was really dark in here.
To be honest, now, that he stood there, seemingly all alone, in front of pitch black darkness, he wasn’t feeling so brave no more.
Nonetheless, he took that step forward. He searched for switch.
And there was the light.
Not from the bulb.
There were candles around a circular symbol that he seemed to have stepped into-
All balloons popped. The noise altogether was like a loud crack.
And then it was dark again.
✪ ✪ ✪
His alarm was going off.
Henry groaned as he turned under the sheets. He felt really tired. Why was an alarm set anyway? He wasn’t getting anywhere, must have set that by accident.
His arm lazily reached out of the bed in search for that devilish device. Where is it, where is it…
It was hard to reach with his suit limiting his moves and his glasses knocked askew because of the pressure between his head and the pillow.
Wait-
He fell asleep in his glasses? And clothes?
His hand didn’t reach anything. There was a worrying sense of… nothing.
When you sleep at the same house for years and years without moving the furniture around too much, you get used to things being in their place.
And they weren’t.
Blue eyes snapped right open.
What he saw was a wide room with multiple beds. Each had a cabinet on the side and there were a few shelves with products that looked like medicine, screens, speakers.
There was a camera high up.
Oh, shit. He was at a hospital.
Wait, no.
He slowly got up, massaging one temple with his hand.
No, no, no.
This layout…
He sat on the bed.
…he was still in the studio.
Or rather… he was at the studio. He actually was there. Could have been a dream.
But no.
Finally, his attention went back to the sound of the alarm. It was coming out of a device that resembled a radio more than a clock. He took it into his hands and turned off. Strange technology but wasn’t too hard.
As he was putting it back, the speakers screeched, almost causing him to drop the darn thing.
Then he froze.
“Hello! Joey Drew here! Welcome to the Joey Drew Studios Infirmary! I hope your brief detention there was a pleasant one…”
No. No way.
“If you’re hearing this message, that means all the damage you may have been experienced has been noted/taken care of, and that we can continue on with the work. There’s sure a lot of it to do!”
Henry frantically looked around the room.
Was it some sort of a cruel joke?
“However, before we get back to it, please, keep in mind, that although fun, those activities are your work, alright? And here, at Joey Drew Studios, we work hard. But happy, so to keep that spirit up do follow the guidelines and refrain from-“
The old man jumped in bed as the voice became incomprehensible.
“As always, thank you for participating. You are contributing to this wonderful bosom of creation we call art. Remember, dreams do come true! Now, let’s bring this thing to life!”
Minutes passed as Henry sat in silence after the end of what he realized was a prerecorded message.
He didn’t know what kind of person would make him listen to it but it had to be prerecorded.
Joey died fifteen years ago.
#bendy and the ink machine#batim fanfiction#batim portal au#henry stein#joey drew#halfart#halfwriting#halfpost#still life#long post#so i got inspired to write for this thing lets see where it goes lol
73 notes
·
View notes
Text
Erase Me: Chapter One- Moving Pictures
Introduction, Chapter Two, Chapter Three, Chapter Four, Chapter Five, Chapter Six, Chapter Seven, Chapter Eight, Chapter Nine, Chapter Ten, Chapter Eleven
Summary: Welcome to the never ending, never changing loop. The loop can’t break, it’s always been the same. Henry never realized he was trapped, but coming back to the animation studio for the “first time” just to see a small, human-like child makes Henry realize that dreams really do come to life.
Read on other platforms: AO3, FFN, Wattpad
The studio was oddly silent, Henry was used to coming into the studio for work and would instantly be greeted with talking or laughing from Joey Drew or the other employees that worked for him. Not this time… the studio was dimly lit with little sound, mainly just ambient noises such as a clock ticking somewhere in the studio and the familiar sound of a projector. Henry would be lying if he said this place wasn’t a tad bit creepy… Well, he was here now, the trip might as well be worth it considering the fact he paid for a flight and a hotel room to see what Joey wanted. Now he just had to find Joey.
When taking his first step into the studio, a pipe that was on the ceiling busted open, pouring ink all over the floor below, almost spilling over Henry. That would not have been good, if possible, Henry would like to not be covered in ink by the time he leaves the studio to go back to the hotel. As Henry began walking into the studio, he couldn’t help but notice that the posters of Bendy and his friends that were plastered on the wall were still in great condition. If Henry didn’t know any better, he would say that those could be worth some serious money for being originals and unreleased as merchandise. In the left corner of the room, Henry noticed that a projector was left on, but nothing was playing over it. Huh… did that mean Joey got here before he did? Was Joey losing it? Normally he never left projectors on, something about not wanting to waste money buying new ones if one were to break.
Strange… but okay, Henry thought to himself as he walked up to the projector, flipping the switch to off like he used to do whenever any of the employees accidentally left the equipment on.
It was odd to think that this booming animation studio was now left abandoned for four-years. Henry had no idea why in the hell they would’ve shut down, but he could only assume it some sort of violations of sorts. Joey Drew Studios was making so much money, producing so much media that children all over the country enjoyed. Why just suddenly shut down? Maybe that’s what Joey wanted to talk to him about?
Henry jumped a bit when he turned to see a Bendy cutout that was propped up against the wall next to where the projector was pointing to. Guess he didn’t see it while being blinded by the bright light of the projector. Jesus… Henry remembered when they first rolled those cutouts out, everyone used to scare each other by moving them and poking them out of nowhere in the hallways. It was good fun, until it was taken too far, and Joey demanded that everyone stop messing with the cutouts unless they were prepared to take the broken ones out of their paychecks. Just like he did back then, Henry still found the cutouts to be slightly unsettling. The constantly smiling Bendy with eyes that seemed to follow you wherever you went was just highly unnerving. Surely they were enough to haunt your dreams if you were around them enough. Aright, enough goofing around, Henry needed to find Joey and figure out why he was called here for.
Turning back around, Henry started walking back down the room, turning right at a familiar hallway.
“Hey, here’s my old desk. I’ve wasted so much time in this chair,” Henry reminisced, running his hand around the back of the unmoved, dusty wooden chair. The flickering light above said desk made the Bendy cutout creepier than it already was; when was that put there?
Henry could help himself when he stopped to think about more of the olden days working here just sitting at his desk alone. While animating Henry went into “the zone,” as his coworkers would call it. It seemed as though nothing could break away his concentration while he had an important task to do. One day, Joey had given him the task to draw up the friend that he had described to Henry as a “tall anthropomorphic wolf.” Henry loved those type of tasks, he was allowed to use as much creative freedom as he so desired as long as it fit within the keywords that Joey had given him. While he was hard at work, the lead projectionist, Norman Polk, and Wally Franks, who was a janitor at the time, decided to see how badly they could scare him. It wasn’t anything major, in fact, it was rather stupid, or at least that’s what Samuel Lawrence, the song and music director, had thought when he came out of his “dungeon” for a rare moment to get some feedback from the animation studio. He had watched while sipping his coffee as the two workers gathered all the Bendy cutouts they could find, placing them around Henry’s work area until they couldn’t fit anymore. The entire time Henry had no idea what they were doing or that he was the victim of a prank. The prank in itself wasn’t scary, but when Henry turned around to answer to whoever was calling his name after just getting out of his major concentration zone, well, it was like seeing an actual demon. Norman and Wally lost it, laughing at the startled man while Sammy just shook his head as he walked away, trying to hide his smile behind his coffee mug.
Pulling himself out of his memories, Henry noticed something that was highly unusual sitting on his desk. There was a little, poorly drawn Bendy doodle that he’s never seen before. Why would that be there? Henry picked it up, studying the art to see if he could possibly trace it back to someone else who did animation in the studio originally before he left. He didn’t, but even if he could, none of them would produce something so… childish. The only explanation for this that Henry could come up with was that someone who wasn’t in the animation department tried to create something, knowing that Joey wouldn’t like it due to the fact it made Bendy look less than perfect, or someone from the department had brought their kid into work. The latter seemed to be too unrealistic, as Joey didn’t allow anyone besides employees or official state workers to come into the studio. Huh… this was strange… Henry put the paper back where it belonged, but it slipped onto the floor, landing on top of a pile of papers that Henry didn’t realize he was stepping on. Once he did though he took a step back, kneeling down to see what was there.
Everything scattered on the floor were more children’s drawings of Bendy or other various characters that appeared in the cartoon. The thing that really stuck out about these drawings wasn’t the fact that obviously a child made them, but because they were all drawn in such heavy ink, as though they didn’t know what the appropriate amount of ink should be. Henry could only scratch his head in confusion, no sound or reason could help him put the pieces together for this one… He even thought about maybe someone was squatting their building, but that would be impossible too since the door was locked and there weren’t any windows in the actual studio itself. Certainly a mystery this was becoming…
Just as Henry was standing up with the help of the wooden chair, he swore he had caught something in the corner of his eye. When he whipped his head around to the room behind him, he didn’t see anything, but that was a new room that he’s never seen before. Being in the studio now was like walking into a completely new job site, everything was so familiar yet different at the same time. Something was going on in here, either Joey had to come out and explain what it was, or Henry would figure it out himself.
Checking to make sure that Joey wasn’t there to pull any type of prank on him, Henry cautiously made his way into the new room he’s never experienced before. Inside, there were three animation desks that were similar to his, most certainly more used than his ever was.
“Huh, looks like they knocked out a wall or two after I left. Guess it took a few people to replace me…” Henry muttered to himself as he stood at the raised floor looking over the room.
Every desk had a couple of drawings of the dancing demon himself sitting upon them, some of them were professionally done while others, again, were done by a child. Motivation Bendy posters were hung around the room, probably to make the new animators feel good about themselves while working days on end, Henry was glad to have gotten out of that life, seeing where he is now with his life and family it was worth it.
Henry stepped off the raised flooring to have a more detailed look around the room, there was something in here he could feel it. The overwhelming burning feeling of something watching his every movement was getting the better of him. Honestly, this was the first time this whole time he’s been here that he felt truly creeped out, and as though this place was… Well, he didn’t want to say haunted, there was no such thing as ghosts, but maybe the studio held a presence of some sorts.
“Hello?” Henry nervously called out, hoping he wouldn’t get an answer from nobody expect for Joey Drew. He rounded a corner to see a boarded-up room that appeared to lead to a restroom with, surprise, surprise, a Bendy cutout and flickering lights. Man, these things were everywhere, seems as though they didn’t sell as well as they’d hope.
Henry grabbed the wooden planks that were nailed along the doorway, shaking them to see if there was any way they could get taken down, but they were heavily secured. No way he’d be getting in there. It didn’t matter anyways, nothing of importance seemed to be in here anyways.
With that in mind, Henry moved on out of the room, the studio was now empty of most sound expect for the ominous sound of a clock ticking deep in the studio. It was mocking him, as if telling him that he was wasting his time here in the studio, just like he wasted an entire year being trapped here away from his wife. Tick, tick, tick, tick… Henry shook his head, pressing forward as he moved across the room that led down another hallway. Even though he’s worked here for a year, the place seemed to be the same yet extremely different.
Once Henry rounded a corner, he stopped when he came into a room with ink heavily dripping down from the ceiling and spilling onto the wooden floor below, but that’s not what caught his attention. On the wall above, written in heavy ink wrote: “DREAMS COME TRUE.” Upon closer inspection, the ink appeared to be freshly written with a small, smudged handprint underneath the written. Every brain cell was telling Henry to turn back around, pack his bags from the hotel, get back on another plane and go the hell home where he would be safe. However, one, just one, tiny little brain cell was encouraging him to go forward, to figure out what was going on here and why Joey needed him here so urgently.
Putting on the bravest face he could muster, Henry proceeded to follow the hallway further into the studio. His ears were picking up on something… Was that… a radio? Why would a radio be playing in here? Nothing was making sense and it was starting to drive Henry crazy. He stopped next to the first door that came up on his left, that had to be where the music was coming from. Along with the music, there was a bright light shining from underneath the crack in the door. Henry tried to open the door, but it was locked, and there was no way he could open it from his end. Damn, guess he’d have to come back to it later.
Pushing forward, there was something different hanging up on the wall that wasn’t just a Bendy sticker or a vintage cartoon poster. This was an Ink Output Schedule, whatever that was supposed to mean, as that certainly wasn’t there when he was still around. The white erase board was a bit difficult to read, but from Henry’s understanding was that it was comparing how many gallons of ink they were using a week? That didn’t quite make since considering the fact the last entry was listed as 423 gallons. If that were the case, then that was insane. Why would they be using all this ink? They were just an animation studio, right?
A usual thick pipe was going across the remainder of the hallway with a sign that read: “Please watch your step.” Thankfully, Henry noticed said pipe before carelessly started walking down the hall, that would’ve been a worker’s comp case. Well, it would’ve been if he still worked here that is. The hall had led into a balcony that looked down on a rather large room that, again, Henry has never seen before, he has accepted that this place got flipped around and he had no idea what anything was or is anymore. There were large chains that were hooked to the ceiling that led down what appears to be a rather large and deep hole in the ground. What could possibly be down there? Henry was eyeing the power switch next to him, but there was no way it would work in its current state as the power source was missing. Thankfully, they weren’t far away, there was a hardware chest that contained the power cells that were needed to get this going.
“Let’s see what you’re hiding down there, old friend,” he said out loud before pulling the switch.
The sound of old rusty chains squeaked through the air like nails on a chalkboard, sending goosebumps through Henry and a chill down his spine as he patiently waited for the old equipment to bring up whatever it was hiding out of sight. The chains pulled up the ink machine rather quickly for its size and weight, surprising Henry. An ink machine? Why in the world would they need an ink machine for? They never had problems getting ahold of ink while Henry was still here, so what changed since he left? Did Joey want to save money? Were ink businesses not conducting business with Joey Drew Studios? Henry was trying to connect the dots here, but nothing was fitting together which greatly frustrated him. Ink machine… Joey never mentioned that he was thinking getting one of those. What was he up to? From where Henry was standing it appeared that the machine wasn’t on; well, he supposed that’s what his next task was going to be.
“Joey… where the hell are you?” Henry mumbled to himself as he backed out of the room, turning to the right, going even deeper into the studio.
Why was he being put through all of this? Was this a test? A game? A cruel joke? Or perhaps it was a way to lure Henry back into the studio after thirty-years, and for what? So many questions were going to be left answered unless Joey came out of hiding.
Henry was lost in his thoughts, as he usually was, when a wooden plank fell from the ceiling unexpectedly. He stopped in his tracks, eyes wide with his heart beating through his chest as though it were trying to escape. He had to tell himself to relax, it was an old building and they were known for falling apart, just look around his environment, there were broken planks and holes in the walls. It’s fine, this was fine.
Turning right, Henry came across a large switch with a sign that read INK MACHINE over it with a flashing low-pressure sign next to the switch. There were six short pillars that appeared as though they held something for years judging by the dust that settled over the majority of the plates. Behind each pillar on the wall were pictures of what seemed to be random objects. This was a set up Henry’s never seen before.
“Alright, how do I get this work?” He asked out loud, hoping that maybe something from the heavens would give him an answer. Did he have to find and place the items on the pillars? Well, that shouldn’t be too hard, right…?
With the pieces of the puzzle memorized, Henry left the room to go find said items. The studio was fairly small, so finding these pieces shouldn’t be too hard. As he turned into the hallway, Henry once again had another scare. A Bendy cutout that he knew for damn sure wasn’t there before was now standing upright where the wooden plank fell from above.
“Who put this here?!” Henry demanded, glancing around, “this isn’t funny, Joey. Just come out.” He stood there for a moment, hoping that his old friend would start laughing and come out of the shadows, but there was nothing. Only the ambient, ominous sounds of the workshop filled the dull, dusty air around him.
Everything was telling Henry to get the hell out of here, but now his curiosity was peaked and had to keep pressing forward. Besides, he could leave whenever he wanted to, so what was the worst that could happen?
Henry cautiously moved around the cutout, going to the room directly behind it. Henry only made it two steps into the room before he had to stop in his tracks once again at what he was seeing. He rubbed his eyes to make sure he was actually seeing what he thought he was seeing. Before him, strapped to a gurney upright with metal bars going across to secure them was Boris. As in, Boris from the Bendy cartoon. His chest was ripped opened with his ribs sticking out and a wrench placed inside.
“Oh my god… Joey, what were you doing?” As much as he didn’t want to, Henry had to take the wrench out, the tool made a squishy sound as it was yanked from the chest cavity, causing Henry to cringe. This was some sort of cultist ritual, it had to be, right? Nobody who was sane would do something like this. “’Who’s laughing now?’” Joey read the ink written on the wall, it was in a similar handwriting to the Dreams come true written out in the hallway, expect this time Henry noticed small, ink footprints leading out a door across the room. “God, this better not be a prank…” Henry mumbled as he went to investigate where the tracks led.
He opened the closed door, revealing a small room with two more animation desks. The tracks went right passed them, going out the door that led to the main room and to the right. Henry couldn’t help himself when he followed them further and further. The tracks stopped a slightly ajar door, with a shaky hand, Henry opened it quickly. Nothing or nobody was inside, not like anyone could fit in there anyways, it was a small closet that had empty soup cans scattered about. Closing the door, Henry noticed a cassette player sitting on the small end table, he pressed the play button, hoping that would give him some insight as to what was happening. He instantly recognized the voice of Wally Franks.
“At this point, I don’t get what Joey’s plan is for this company. The animations sure aren’t being finished on time anymore, and I certainly don’t see why we need this machine. It’s noisy, it’s messy, and who needs that much ink anyways? Also, get this, Joey had each one of us donate something from our workstation. We put them on these little pedestals in the break room… to help ‘appease the gods’ Joey says. Keeps things going… I think he’s lost his mind, but, hey, he writes the checks. But I tell you what, if one more of these pipes bursts, I’m outta here.”
There was another closet behind the cassette player, but that one was locked. God, none of this was making sense. Why the ink machine? Why were there audio logs laying around? What happened when Henry left?
To keep himself from asking questions in a circle, Henry proceeded forward, down a long hallway where he found more of the fresh small ink footprints. He was just waiting for something to round the corner and jump out at him to scare him. Nothing did happen, however. He made it to the old viewing room without any more mishaps. It was dark, so dark that Henry could barely see in front of him. He saw a small flicker of light behind the projector, the dimly lighted light hung over a valve that read ink pressure.
That’s a good thing to have in mind, he thought as he picked up an old ink stained Bendy plush toy, giving it a squeak. God, he loved those toys, they were so cute.
Henry wandered around for about ten minutes before coming across another door that he remembered led into their downstairs break room. As apposed to the break room upstairs, this one was used when they were celebrating and had mini parties. Henry had a small, sad smile as he looked down at the room, remembering all the times they had down there. Norman and Wally were always the loudest ones in the room, Sammy seemed to have always acted as though he was pulled away from whatever important work he was doing to be there, as he was always grumpy and stewing in the corner writing on his music sheets. Joey always told him to lighten up, but Sammy seemed to be too serious in his work to do such a thing. Everything in the break room was preserved, the posters were left untouched, the furniture was in great condition, the only thing out of place was all the empty soup cans that were laying around. Wandering around, Henry stubbed his toe on a large book, when he knelt down to pick it up, he saw it was a book Joey wrote. The Illusion of Living, well he needed that too, so he tucked it under his arm with the rest of the pieces he collected.
“Would you look at that,” Henry said after he stood up and saw the old punch time clock. “I wonder if you still work.” He pushed down the old timecard that was still in the machine, it startled him with the old, familiar ringing sound it produced whenever it successfully punched a card. A loud thud came from up the stairs, startling Henry. “This place is insane.”
He went back up the stairs quietly and carefully, as the sound seemed like someone got startled by the time clock. Henry was prepared to catch whoever was messing with him, hopefully they weren’t a danger to him, but if they were well, he wouldn’t be afraid to defend himself. The door that once had a radio playing behind it was now opened, the radio and lights off; so there was somebody hiding in there, huh? Sitting on the desk was a vinyl disk, Henry needed that so he took it, but underneath there was a note that read ‘He will set us free.’
“This isn’t funny anymore,” Henry called out as he turned around and walked out of the room. He glanced down both sides of the hallway to see if he could find anything or anyone. There it was again, a new set of small footprints tracked in ink leading back towards the entrance of the studio. This was it, Henry was closing in on whoever was messing with him and he certainly had a few words to say to them.
The footprints had suddenly stopped next to the projector that Henry had turned off the moment he entered the building. That didn’t make any sense, where did they go? Whoever it was couldn’t have just disappeared, right? Thankfully the footprints had led him right to the last two items he needed; the gear and the inkwell, it was as though someone already collected them for him as he knew those weren’t there earlier. Henry had the strong feeling that he was being watched as he picked up the last two items, he couldn’t focus on that now, he had to get this damn ink machine started so he could figure this all out.
“That’s all of them,” Henry said to himself before turning and walking back to the old breakroom that held the stands. The one thing he noticed, however, was that the Bendy cutout that was oddly placed there before was now gone. Henry was slowly starting to believe in ghosts at this point, or maybe being in here was making him lose his mind.
One by one, Henry placed every item on the correct pillar, lights turned on over head on each one he did until the room was completely lit. He had no idea who could’ve come up with this sort of layout, it seemed over the top and dramatic. Well, he just described Joey Drew, didn’t he?
“Now I just need to get the ink flowing, there was a valve in the projection room, right?” At this point, Henry couldn’t help but talk to himself, he felt alone and scared, that maybe talking to himself would help him put on the brave face to keep on pushing through this.
Making his way back, Henry was on a complete look out, both with his eyes and his ears. Obviously something was going on here and he didn’t like it at all. As he was going down the long hallway to the projection room, another Bendy cutout popped out around the corner, causing him to jump. That was it. Henry upped his pace, rounding the corner to catch whoever it was doing this. It was only this room between them now, he was going to catch him. The projection room was still dark, so finding anyone was going to be made difficult.
“You can come out now, I know you’re-“ Before Henry could finish his sentence, the projector turned on seemingly by itself, filling the room with light. The only thing that was being projected was a clip of Bendy the Dancing Demon doing a simple little dance with his trademark whistle in the background. Going behind the projector, Henry thought he was going to catch them, but nobody was there and it only made him more confused. That’s it, he was losing it. “You can’t be serious…” Henry messed with the ink pressure valve, the instant he moved it the room began to flood with ink. “So much for not getting a stain.”
This journey felt more like an endless going back and forth, as Henry made his way back to power the ink machine. He did a quick glance to make sure he had every item, everything was in place except for the Bendy plush toy. Henry groaned in frustration, but since the pillar still had a light on overhead maybe it would still work. Once he flipped the switch all the lights went off in the studio, great, this was just great. There were some dimly lit lights that helped him out, but Henry still had to keep his hand on the wall to make sure he was still going the correct way. The sound of the ink machine starting up was loud and unexpected, there better be the light at the end of the tunnel for this one.
Just keep moving, just keep moving, Henry told himself as he stepped over the large pipe in the middle of the hallway. Walking up to the ink machine room, it was suddenly boarded up. How could someone do that without him noticing or hearing? Once Henry got a close enough look into the room, something that could only be described as an ink demon popped up through the cracks, destroying the wooden planks that were in place. Henry had fallen backwards, hitting his head on the floor in shock. The walls and floor around him were turning into an ink stained mess. He had to get the hell out of the workshop. Now.
Henry jumped up, his heart slamming against his chest from both fear and trying to run as fast as he could through the thick ink. The heavy breathing of the ink demon was behind him, slowly getting close now as Henry was trying to maneuver through the twisted hallways. The exit, he needed to get to the exit, that’s the only way he would be safe. Dammit, he knew he should’ve left sooner, why didn’t he listen to his gut feeling? The ink demon let out a loud, ear piercing screech that almost caused Henry to trip over his own feet in fear. No, he was almost to the exit, he could see the door propped open now. He was almost there, he was almost- Wrong. Two more steps and he would’ve been out of the studio. Two steps was all it took for the man to fall through the flooring, falling down several stories, landing back first into a pool of ink. That fall should have killed him, the worse it caused was a sore back.
He let out a groan, laying in the ink for a moment before forcing himself to stand up. Fantastic, now he had to find his way out from an area of the studio he didn’t even know existed. There was too much ink for him to leave the room with on its own, this must have been a usual occurrence since there was a valve that was marked to drain the ink. Henry turned it, in a matter of seconds the ink escaped the room, exposing a door and another cassette player.
“It’s dark and it’s cold and it’s stuck in behind every single wall now. In some places, I swear this godforsaken ink is clear up to my knees! Who ever thought that these crummy pipes could hold up under this kind of strain either knows something about pressure I don’t, or he’s some kind of idiot. But the real worst part about all this… are them noises the system makes. Like a dying dog on it’s last legs. Makes no mistake, this place… this… machine… heck, this whole darn thing… it just isn’t natural. You can bet, I won’t be doing anymore repairs job for Mister Joey Drew.”
Henry didn’t recognize the voice on this tape, it had to be someone who came in after he left to help out around here. He couldn’t focus on that right now, he had to keep draining the ink until he could make an escape plan. Henry continued to go lower and lower, twisting every valve until he came across a door that led to a blocked path of boarded up doorway. On the wall, in fresh ink, read “THE CREATOR LIED TO US.” Whatever that meant… Oh, well, maybe Henry’s luck was finally turning around. On the table next to the message was an axe, yeah, he could use this to get out of here.
“This will definitely come in handy,” he said before chopping down the wooden planks. There were more obstacles to get around, but with the axe nothing was impossible.
This led to a room, a dim room lit with only candles around a pentagram with coffins propped up on the wall behind it. If that wasn’t concerning enough, sitting inside the pentagram appeared to be a human child, but… maybe not completely human. This boy had small, black horns sitting on top of his head, he had very dark features; jet black shaggy hair, a black button down shirt that were cut to make into short sleeves with a white bowtie, black pants and shoes, all making his skin look extremely pale. It wasn’t the horns that caused Henry to stare at him in shock, it was his eyes. His right eye had an almost white iris while his left eye had a jet black iris. Henry could just make out the two fangs that were poking out of the kids mouth. The child was holding the Bendy plush toy that Henry had placed on the pillar upstairs with ink stained hands, staring up at Henry with wide eyes. Henry was taken aback, to say the least. How did this… child (could he even call this a child?) get in the studio?
“What are you-“ Henry stopped talking when the child seemed to wince out of fear, thinking that it was axe, he set it down on the floor, “I’m not going to hurt you.” He held out a hand to the boy to show that he was no danger to him. Panicking, the child stood up quickly, backing up away from him. Every time he backed up Henry would take a small step closer.
The room seemed to be shaking around them, but Henry didn’t pay any mind to that right now. His main focus was trying to figure out why someone was in the workshop when it should have been locked up for a couple of years.
“I promise, I’m not going to-“ Once again, Henry was cut off, but this time it wasn’t by his own doing. The moment he stepped into the pentagram he started seeing vivid visions of the ink machine flash before his eyes, a chair, and the ink demon he saw earlier. He let out a grunt before passing out over the pentagram.
#my fic#bendy#bendy and the ink machine#bendy and the dark revival#bendy and the ink machine fanfic#bendy and the ink machine fanfiction#batim#chapter one#video game fanfic#henry stein#bendy the dancing devil#joey drew#the formating is weird but it's tumblr so#Break the Cycle AU
2 notes
·
View notes
Note
6. Illusion For that micro-story challenge if you still want to take those
So you ALSO get two micro stories from two different fandoms (and with vastly different tones, too) but sadly one will mean VERY little to you oops. I’m sorry about that. I’m also sorry this took like three weeks.
Like last time, watch as I try to avoid using the actual prompt word.
–
The more time that passed, the more Sammy had to consider that Joey truly had zero idea what he was doing.
Boards weren’t finished on time anymore. Writers didn’t get directions. Backgrounds stalled. Hallways flooded. Sammy threw out the second pair of shoes in a month. Fuming about it to Joey over dinner earned him nothing more than a handwave and a loud proclamation of “It’ll be fine, Sammy! You’re just not seeing the big picture! It’ll all work out and we’ll be remembered in history for all time! I thought that’s what you wanted?”
Well yeah, it was, but how was Joey going to accomplish that if the cartoon itself wasn’t being produced? He pointed that out, words barbed, and Joey turned red and snapped back that it wasn’t as if he was getting his songs done on time, either.
“Well maybe if you did something about my department being flooded-!”
“Fine, I will.”
Four days later Sammy found an ugly pump switch installed in his office, and periodically from then on people would be in and out, ensuring that spills were drained from the music department. He clenched his jaw so hard his teeth ached. The toons sat grouped around him in silence, and he took a deep breath through his nose and pushed it all down, quietly handing Bendy more fresh paper to draw on before returning to his music.
He spotted Norman, Wally, and Allison all in rapid succession bringing their concerns to Joey over the course of the next three days, and each time Joey was all smiles, all big ideas. He addressed the studio over the loudspeaker the day after Allison.
“A small memo to all administration offices: Rumors have begun to fly that we simply can’t tolerate any longer. The idea that the company is in some form of financial difficulty is untrue! And a slanderous lie against us.”
His voice was so… loud and big, in a way that was beyond just volume. There was something powerful in that voice, something that commanded attention, without needing to be angry to do it. Sammy didn’t know how to do that. Maybe Joey would take him more seriously if he did.
He set aside his pen to stare up and over at the loudspeaker outside his office, unable to tune Joey out.
“It’s also been known to me that some backroom incompetents are not trusting in my leadership.” He didn’t need to be able to see Joey to visualize him pacing the room, finger in the air as he talked. “As a leader, I’m always steering the boat, guiding our destiny. Looking at the big picture. No need for you people to worry about such complicated things. Just do whatever it is you do and trust your leader… which is me.”
The loudspeaker clicked off.
Sammy’s eyes slid to exchange looks with someone who wasn’t there anymore and hadn’t been for years, someone who really did get shit done, someone who really did always steer that boat, and his chest tightened.
How was Joey able to get so many people to listen to him? How did he suck so many people in? Why did Sammy, every single time, believe Joey could do this?
The door opened. “Sammy?” Boris called softly, ears going back. “Are…?”
Sammy sat up straight, giving Boris a slow nod, hoping his face looked at least some modicum of gentle. “It’s okay. Come in.”
They sat and composed together. Sammy actually got his songs done. He turned them in. Joey paused, looked up from his theme park plans, and gave Sammy a smile reminiscent of the sun.
“Good work, Sammy! You must have worked so hard to get these finished so fast! Well done!” He clapped Sammy on the back, and Sammy let out a quiet chuckle, rolling his eyes. “No, I mean it!” Joey insisted. “You make this look so easy, and that’s just what we need right now. This’ll bolster a lot of people. The studio family really needs this right now.”
“Yeah, well. You did hire me to write music,” Sammy pointed out with a snort, hoping his face wasn’t actually as hot as it felt.
“That I did, ‘cause there’s really no one better.” Joey beamed at him. “Now, let’s sit down and discuss the next batch of episodes, huh?”
It mostly consisted of a lot of vague concepts. Joey couldn’t tell him what the story for the fifth one even was. Sammy’s brows drew together as he suggested a few things here and there, and Joey made alterations.
As he left the office Joey smiled at him again. That was, what, four times in one day? Sammy couldn’t look away as Joey patted his back again. “Good meeting today, Sammy. I’ll see you around! Time to get back to work, now!”
Back to work. His pounding headache, begging sleep, grew louder. He pushed it down, went to the break room, and poured himself coffee. Returned to his office. It would be fine. He just had to get this pile of work done.
Seven hours later, there was another flood, and he threw out the third pair of shoes in a month.
Sammy bought galoshes, poured himself another mug of coffee, and bit his tongue.
–
His fingers slipped on the neck of the guitar, a tangle of squeaky, off-notes marring the song. He blinked against heavy eyelids, confused for all of two seconds before realizing the off-key music had come from him.
A soft, low chuckle sounded from above him, and a large, soft hand enveloped his shoulder. “I think you’re done for the night, dear.”
Greg lifted his head to lay it against his wife’s lap with a quiet laugh. She kissed his forehead. “Yeah, probably. I was on a roll though, I swear.”
“Needing sleep is a curse,” she agreed to his unspoken, mild complaint with a grin, “but sadly it’s one you need to live. Come on, bed.”
“All right, all right.” He patted her cheek before sitting up, standing up to stretch and pop his back and put his guitar away. The water nearby lapped gently at the shore as she got out of the van, pulling the mattress in it from the wall to lie flat as he stored his guitar on the passenger seat.
She laid down on her back and he curled up half against her side, half on her chest, closing his eyes with a sigh. “Goodnight, Rose.”
She stroked her fingers through his hair, smoothing it back. “Goodnight, Greg.”
ba-dum
His eyes snapped open, freezing.
ba-dum
What-
ba-dum
“Rose what-” He lifted his head to look at her, able to see even in the starlight the deep blush flooding her cheeks.
“Do… do you like it?” she asked, voice soft, nervous.
“W-well- yes but…?”
“Oh well- I heard some girls talking on the boardwalk? About how, um, humans like to listen to each other’s heartbeat? They find it soothing?” She tapped her forefingers together. “And, well- gems don’t have a pulse naturally but we can shapeshift and I don’t have to create a whole blood system to mimic a heartbeat and I thought- it might make you happy?”
Her dark eyes met his, large and uncertain and hopeful. “D-did it?”
“Oh Rose,” he breathed, heart bursting. He leaned over to press a kiss to her mouth.
His wife was the one with gravity powers, but every once in awhile, he felt like he could just float away into the sky and take her with him.
#steven universe#greg universe#rose quartz#bendy and the ink machine#sammy lawrence#joey drew#su garnet#su rose quartz#batim sammy lawrence#batim joey drew#my writing#sadly i wasn't able to keep these as micro as last time but they ARE still short#strike up the band au#btw sammy and joey are brothers here so this isn't a ship
9 notes
·
View notes
Text
Batim Stitched AU Ch 8: On a Light’s Trail Unaware of the Shadows
AN: I sincerely apologize for the rather long wait. I had many personal matters to attend to after the passing of a family member, the drama that follows as well as renovation projects of my home that's kept me rather busy. Not only all that, but processing some of the things in the chapters.
Summary: The search is underway for the lost plushtoon, however a shadow is creeping in from behind ready to do whatever means necessary to achieve it's goal.
On with the show~!
-------10 minutes before the opening of Joey Drew Studios--------
A lone figure drifted to the entrance of the studio and produced a ring of keys letting himself in, the man thought it was strange that there were a few cars ahead of him but wasn't about to give it much thought. He drifted down the darkened halls towards his supply closet to grab his trusty mop and bucket. 'Might as well get a head start' Wally thought to himself as he pulled out his keys to open his closet. The key slid into the lock and a soft click was the only sound in the hall except for the doors slow creak that followed. The Janitor turned the doorknob and upon opening the door there were black cords that looked almost like a spider's web had completely barred entry into the closet.
“What in the world?” Wally looked at the black material in confusion. He slowly edged his hand towards the black fibers cautiously and just as his finger grazed a cord, a black figure shot past him knocking him down earning a short scream from the startled man. He only saw a brief shadow before it disappeared down the darkened halls leaving the janitor shaking on the floor. He didn't have long to compose himself before the sound of shoes came up the hall followed by 2 lights.
“Who's there?” A gruff voice called out.
“I-It's me Wally!” The frazzled Janitor called out.
A light shone on the janitor as he picked himself off the ground and Allison and Thomas ran up to the man.
“What happened?” Allison looked the man over as he was a bit shaken after whatever happened.
“I dunno, I opened mah closet seein' what looked like a black spiders web, and the next thing I know something jumped out and ran away.” He gestured towards the end of the hall.
Tom and Allison lifted a brow as they looked at each other before Tom looked at the closet. “In here right?” The man gestured towards the open door earning a nod from Wally. The janitor stepped aside as Tom approached the door and shown his light into its room, what the light had revealed startled both Allison and Tom.
The light cast eerie shadows upon what strongly resembled a spiders web that had been haphazardly put together. The cords were black as the night and had a bit of an oily sheen to them that had Tom lifting a brow at the material, he had never seen anything like it before.
“What is that?” Allison's voice breaking the stunned silence of the trio.
“I don't know, I've never seen anything like it.” Tom replied as he looked around. “Wally do you have anything like a stick or rod?”
“umm..” The janitor patted himself down until he reached his tool belt and pulled out a wrench. “Will this help?” he held it out to Tom.
Tom looked at the tool and shrugged. “That will have to do.” He gingerly took the item from Wally cueing the janitor to step aside allowing Thomas to step forward to examine the ebony material, all the while Allison whispered for the man to be careful.
The wrench lightly grazed the black cords and a thin coating of black liquid was left behind when Tom drew back the wrench. He held it under his flashlight looking at the black fluid. Something about it was familiar and he held it under his nose and cautiously smelled the item. It was ink! The discovery made Tom snap his head back and without saying a word he tossed the wrench aside and dove his hands directly into the hive of threads frantically digging towards it's core.
“T-Tom what are you doing?” Allison looked at the man shocked. The last thing she wanted was for him to get hurt by whatever this material was and he just threw both arms in like it was nothing.
“It's ink.” The mechanic grumbled as he was pulling on the cords trying to reach it's center.
Both Allison and Wally looked at the man like he lost his mind as he feverishly dug at the material. “What do you mean 'it's ink'?” Allison finally spoke.
Tom grunted and groaned as his hands had finally grasped something solid and he pulled as hard as he could, causing Allison and Wally to step back as the man finally succeed in securing his prize ripping it out of the closet leaving a trail of black cords and ink oozing all over the floor. The object looked like a black oval made dozens of the black cords all woven together resembling a silk cocoon with a few loose threads hanging off it. Tom held up the strange cocoon like structure before Allison and Wally who looked at it in a mix of confusion and fear.
“It's ink.” Tom repeated himself gesturing to the object in his hands. “Whatever this is, it's made of ink.” Tom's head snapped in the direction of Wally. “You said something jumped out at you when you opened the closet, correct?”
“Man I dunno what's going on but I'm getting outta here.” Wally started to back up, but before he got anywhere he soon found himself being backing into the wall by the mountain known as Thomas. The mechanic pinned the janitor against the wall under his glare and size difference.
“I'm saying that when you opened up the door something came out of this,” Tom held up the remains of the cocoon that seemed to be melting into a puddle in the man's hands. “And ran past you. Where did it go?”
Wally whimpered and simply gestured in the direction of the last time he saw movement of whatever gave him the jump scare. Before he had a chance to ask, Tom ditched him and went running down the halls towards the direction he had pointed. Allison looked at him briefly and told him to 'clean up the mess' and went running after her husband. He had now found himself alone in the dimly lit hallway with nothing more than a large ink puddle on the floor and his supply closet completely stained black. His eyes looked towards what had remained of the strange object Tom had pulled out of the closet and the only thing that remained of it were almost hair like threads floating in the liquid. A small sigh escaped the janitor as he eyed the mess on the floor and his closet. What a way to start the morning.
-------------------
Allison had forgotten how fast her husband could be at times as she was struggling to keep up with the man. “Tom what's gotten into you!?” She shouted after him
“That was Benny!” The man ran down the halls checking various doors looking for any that were unlocked.
“How can you be so sure?” Allison caught up to him when he finally found an open room and proceeded to turn it completely inside out. She watched him ravage through its contents in a frantic search only going for any spots with ink while ignoring any clean areas. She could only watch in amazement as hurricane Thomas swept through the room.
“That was all made out of ink.” Tom briefly stopped to look at her. “That was like a cocoon made out of ink. Has he ever done something like that before?” He walked up to his wife after trashing the room, a clear scowl on his face at not locating his prize.
Allison's thoughts drifted through her memories of the plushtoon and she remembered a brief moment of Giovanni teaching him how to use the needle and thread she had in her sewing kit that Benny had held onto for her. When Giovanni had taken a length of thread to show him how to sew, Benny pulled out thread of his own from his hammerspace that looked a bit different from Giovanni's. “I-I think he's done that before.” she walked up to her husband. “He was being taught how to sew by Giovanni and he pulled out his own set of thread from his hammerspace since Gio had the spool.”
Tom listened to her story and started to walk back towards the entrance of the room. “I see. He can somehow create his own thread which is probably something that only he can do since he was a toy. He had made himself a hideaway using his own ink.” The man exited the room with Allison right behind him. “Then that is gonna make our search harder.” Tom scowled pacing down the dim hall.
“How much harder?” Allison looked at him worried. She couldn't think that the toon's newfound abilities would make it harder to find him.
“Think about it.” Tom repeatedly trying various doors as he spoke. “The staff here avoids ink like the stuff is the plague. It he truly can create inky threads and in turn make the cocoon I just saw, then he can hold up shop anywhere. The dripping ink from the threads would pool at its base and people would in turn avoid it not realizing that there isn’t a pipe nearby to cause such a leak. Plus he might be able to pull objects around himself so the cocoon itself doesn’t stand out.
“What do you mean?” Allison lifted a brow.
“Have you ever heard of the 'trapdoor spider'?” Tom opened up a door that was unlocked and proceeded to search with Allison right behind him.
“Yeah I have, why?” Allison looked through shelves alongside her husband.
“Well that cocoon reminded me of a trapdoor spiders nest. I used to see them all the time as a young man and the cocoon had a sort of opening like a lid, but the thing was melting in my hand too fast so I couldn't get a good look at it.” Tom scowled as he finished searching the room and left with Allison behind him.
“Ok. So if that's the case what does that mean?” She asked him as he gently ran his fingers along some of the shelving that occasionally lined the halls.
“That means he can use something to act as a lid and have a home behind it, and no one would be none the wiser. Example like a crate. An object like that is normal here at the studio and seeing ink around them isn't all that unusual so no one touches them, but if you open them you'll only find art supplies or tools right?” Tom asked looking over his shoulder at Allison getting a nod. “Imagine opening a crate and instead of getting an art supply you get a spiders den with said spider in it. I suspect that's what happened to Wally when he opened the door to his supply closet. Benny was using the space as a sort of hideout and when Wally opened the door, he opened the lid to his nest and he booked it.”
Realization hit Allison and her eyes grew wide. “So now he's gonna be looking for a new place to hide and it isn't gonna be obvious to the staff since it would look like an everyday item.” Her own words were ones she had to admit she didn't want to hear. She had hoped that finding him would be easy since the toon wasn't familiar with the studio and that he could be lured out with food, but with this new addition of his thread like ability it was going to be far more difficult than she initially thought.
Tom could see the look of despair in his wife's eyes and turned to her placing his hands on her shoulders making her look at him. “Look it's harder, but also easier. Now that we know what he can do, and in a way it narrows down the search.” He gave her a small reassuring smile. “People will avoid the ink, we just need to seek it. Find a collection of ink and we'll find him.”
Allison nodded and before they could do anything the dim lights above all turned on causing both of them to flinch. Tom cursed at realizing time was up and that the studio was getting ready to welcome it's staff to begin the day's operation. Both looked at the hallways that seemed to stretch endlessly and lamented that they had to give up the search, for now. The couple hid out in Allison's dressing room until they heard the sounds of staff filtering throughout the halls telling them that it was safe to come out of their hiding spot and to start the day. Tom gathered up his tools and disappeared down the halls to tend to the ink machine leaving Allison to gather up her things and begin her day in the music department.
–---- At the Music Department -------
The band slowly filed into the music depart with it's normal melodious sounds replaced by grunts and groans as the group shuffled about to their respective positions. Much of the band was still trying to recover from their early morning run around the studio and were thankful that Norman was the only smart one to pack a few jars of cold coffee as the group collected their respective jars before Sammy arrived. Earl and Edgar fought over theirs, but when Giovanni threatened to take it from them and to drink it himself, they relented and shared. Allison was the last to arrive to the Music department out of their group of friends leaving several of the band members wondering where their young and very energetic violinist had run off to. They didn't have time to inquire as Sammy sauntered into the department looking worse for wear and grumbling under his breath.
The music director looked about the room at the band members present and noted the lack of his usual nuisance in the morning. “Where is Mr. Burn?” The man asked the group.
“Umm, we were just about to ask you, sir.” Aaron's voice sounding from the rear. “We have yet to see him at all this morning.” The group nodding at the man's statement.
Sammy lifted a brow and scowled, while he may not have cared for the too energetic for his tastes young musician, the man was an excellent violinist and they didn't have the luxury of waiting for him to magically show up. Sammy let out a groan while brushing his hair back. “Aaron you know how to play the violin correct?” the man nodded in response. “Allison you can play the piano correct?” the woman nodded in turn. “Good, Aaron you'll play the violin and Allison you'll play the piano until he decides to show up. Hurry up we don't have all day.”
Aaron quickly removed himself from his bench while shooting Allison a worried glance as she was returning the look. Their band wasn't very large and to have a member suddenly go missing was very worrisome considering the group's early morning frolic. They didn't have the luxury of arguing with their already irritated musical director as Aaron grabbed a spare violin and proceeded to check it's tuning while Allison fingered through the sheet music for the piano. The rest of the band in particular Edgar and Earl looked onward worried about the lack of their 3rd member of their 'terrible trio', the boys whispering amongst themselves before the harsh tapping of Sammy's baton forcing them to pay attention to the man.
“We'll do a few more rehearsals than normal since clearly we are lacking in a member right now, so I want you all to give it your best shot. Allison You'll have to sing and play at the same time. I'm sorry but we don't have any other choice at the moment. Everyone play like you mean it.” Sammy addressed the group before throwing his hands and striking up the band.
The group practiced several times with both Aaron and Allison doing their best to adjust to their temporary roles. Sammy was irritated at the slight difference in the quality of the music that was being played, but with them down a person he wasn't exactly in the mood to argue too much as musician's don't grow on trees. He couldn't help but wonder himself as to where his normal thorn in his side was. Despite Leonard's very lax personality, when it came to music the man was a professional and was always early. He had never missed a day of work so this was a first, and was surprised that he had not been informed of the man calling in sick. He scowled and was dead certain Joey would be unwilling to bring in a back up, even if it was temporary, as the man was too cheap to even afford new instruments for the band. Each instrument within the department were broken or damaged and Joey had the audacity to have Sammy sit and repair each and every single one before hiring a proper band.
Norman watched from his balcony at the band below, he felt pity on the group trying to adjust to the sudden loss of a member. They all were playing their best, but to him he could hear the worry that coated the notes of their music. Even he was worried himself as he occasionally glanced at the moving pictures of Bendy and his friends on the screen behind the band. What could have happened to Leonard? Despite the man's very lax and lively view on life as a whole, he was always very punctual as he always believed that 'if you're early you're on time, if you're on time you're late'. He could only hope that the man didn't get into too much trouble. He would have to make it a point of checking things out later when Joey is busy.
The band played for 5 hours working on perfecting the piece to Sammy's tastes, they only stopped playing when Norman shut the projector off shouting at them to go have lunch cause 'he ain't playin' no more reels till he eats somthin' or someone.'. Sammy scowled at the man, but knew he couldn't keep the group going on an empty stomach, he even felt his own stomach protesting telling him it's time to eat.
“Allright everyone we'll stop here and we'll begin recording when we return.” Sammy addressed the band putting away his baton.
The group let out a collective sigh and watched as Sammy cleaned up his sheet music and left the room to go eat. As soon as everyone was dead sure that Sammy was long gone the immediately clustered in the center of the department chatting amongst themselves.
“Where's Leonard? Has anyone seen him?” Allison asked from her seat on the piano bench.
“Ah 'now I sure as 'ell ain't seen 'im.” Norman grumbled in between bites of his sandwich. “Normally th' boy be jumpin' all over th' place gettin' on mah nerves.”
Aaron nodded “You're not the only one.” Giovanni nodded beside the man. “It's strange though, where the heck could he have gone?”
“Maybe we should talk to Tom?” Allison spoke up. “He knows the workings of the place fairly well since he's built so much in it. Plus he has access to areas that we don't.”
The group nodded while both Edgar and Earl fidgeted in their seats exchanging glances. They remember seeing Leonard ride the ink machine down a shaft when they were searching the holding area for the Bendy-Land amusement park. Could that have really been the last place he was seen? What became of him when he rode the machine all the way down? What lies below and is Leonard hurt and can't get back out? What if he's stuck? The 'what ifs' danced through the pair’s heads as they whispered between each other.
“if ya got somethin' t' share wit' th' class, go on ahead.” Norman's voice breaking the two boys out of their whisper fest. The man noting the constant whispers between them.
Earl was about to speak when a random staffer came into the music hall. “Earl and Edgar Sheean!” The group turned to look at the man. “Joey wishes to speak with you.”
Earl and Edgar looked at each other confused before they glanced back at the band.
“Bes' not t' keep th' man waitin'” Norman shrugged.
Everyone looked onward confused as to why Joey would suddenly want to speak to the twins, especially after one of their members went missing earlier in the day. No one said a word as they watched the pair follow the man out of the music department and to go speak with their boss. As the twins left Sammy reentered the department surprising everyone as he carried a Bendy cutout and placed it in the corner amongst the rest of the small accumulating pile. The director noticed that the band was watching him turned to the group.
“Oh so you all know, Joey will be bringing in some back-up musicians. The twins had an 'family emergency' and they are heading home to deal with the matter so we will have 3 additional musicians to fill in Leonard's spot as well as the twins. For now rest up and eat, cause once lunch is over we will have 2 rehearsals before recording.” his words were met with a series of nods or 'ok’s' as he once again took his leave of the department.
“Family emergency my ass” Aaron scoffed crossing his arms.
“I'm with you there.” Giovanni nodded along with Norman.
“Guys we don't have proof that Joey was involved with Leonard's disappearance. For all we know he's horribly lost, you all saw the size of the map that Tom carried. The place is huge underground.” Allison tried to reason with the group. She had to admit that even she was growing more and more concerned about her missing friend. The studio was a maze more ways than one and as far as she knew the band mostly kept to the upper 2 floors as there is no real reason to venture beyond that. With the revealing of the map that Tom kept even she was shocked at how large the studio really was, but there was also an equally pressing matter. “Plus we have a new problem.” she looked downwards trying to find her words.
“Now what? We're down the idiot trio and we still have little Benny to find.” Aaron groaned looking at Allison.
Allison sighed “About that, it's Benny that's the problem.” The group looked at her in a mix of shock and confusion.
“Wha' do ya mean?” Norman politely asked.
“See when Tom and I were checking the upper levels we had heard a shout from one of the hallways. When we investigated the source it turned out to be Wally, the man claiming that something had jumped out at him from his supply closet. Tom checked the closet to discover that it was covered in dozens upon dozens of black threads and a dark liquid.” Allison explained.
“So what was it?” Giovanni lifted a brow.
“Turns out it was ink.”
“Ink?!” the group all spoke at once looking at Allison in shock.
“Gio, remember when you were teaching Benny how to sew and he pulled out his own set of thread?” The man nodded in response wondering where she was going with her statements. “Well according to Tom it was threads made out of ink. Benny somehow figured out how to make threads using his ink and had covered wally's supply closet in them. Tom described what Benny's behavior like a trapdoor spider. He'll encase his immediate surroundings in his inky threads to create a sort of nest to hide in. Problem is Benny is small and can hide in many places with the only hint that he might be there is the ink that drips from the threads.”
“So 'ow exactly are we t' find the boy?” Norman pointed out with the rest of the group mumbling similar inquiries.
“Well like any trapdoor spiders nest there is a 'lid'” Allison pulled out a piece of blank paper and drew on the back of it. Drawing a loose diagram of a cave and a lid. “I think the only way to tell if Benny is inside is to look for the threads as you open it, but it has to be slowly. Wally just opened his door normally and the little demon jumped out at him and ran away, so he must have something that lets him know his den is being disturbed.”
“Trip lines” a gruff voice broke the groups focus on Allison with everyone turning to look at Thomas whom had entered the music hall. “He has to have some sort of trip line that lets him know of distant trouble. The trip lines would vibrate alerting the owner as to disturbances nearby that's how trapdoor spiders work.” the group looked at the man with worry before turning to themselves as they processed the new information.
“So in other words.” Giovanni's voice breaking the silence. “The little one can 'set up shop' if you will, in any place around the studio and his threads would keep it nice and tight so no one would be none the wiser unless you open it up and he pops out like a jack-in-the-box. Great.” the man groaning as he ran his hand along the side of his face.
“It's not as bad as you think” Tom's voice drawing Giovanni to look at him.
“How?” The bass player deadpanned.
Tom gave a small confident smile. “Well for starters his treads have to take a lot of ink so he's gonna need to resupply. Any areas that's is coming up short of ink or food disappearing should be an indicator that he's nearby cause of his apparent large appetite. Plus the threads leak ink so while a crate with ink on it's bottom isn't unusual here, it helps narrow down places to search. If it's clean of ink it's a no go, but if there's ink it warrants a careful investigation since Benny spooks easily and runs, as Wally found out the hard way.”
“Did Wally see tha' it was lil' Benny?” Norman nervously inquired. The last thing he wanted was the studios biggest gossip hound to find out about the toon and spread the news like it's going out of fashion.
Tom laughed at Normans question earning a confused look from the projectionist along with the inquiry of 'what's so funny?'. Once Tom's laughter died down to mere chuckle's he finally spoke. “Wally is so knee deep in work right now he doesn't have time to gossip. He kept going on about how if he had to do my workload and his that he's 'outta here'.” Tom mocking Wally's accent towards the last of his statement earning small giggles from the group. “And besides. I don't think he saw Benny cause it was dark and he only saw a shadow jump out at him, he never once mentioned seeing any color.”
“Yeah that sounds about right” Aaron laughed. “At least he's kept out of our hair for awhile and he won't have the time to gossip. The less that guy knows the better.”
The group unanimously agreed and resumed chatting amongst themselves while eating their lunches, trying to savor the remaining time they had during their lunch.
----- Meanwhile at Joey's office ------
The rustling of papers was the only subtle sounds within the office until a knock at the door gained Joey's attention. “You may come in.” the man answered.
The door slowly creaked open to both Edgar and Earl sheepishly peering into the office with Earl stepping forward. “You wished to speak with us sir?”
“Ah Gentleman come in, come in!” Joey smiled as he rose from his desk and carefully edged around it to greet the boys shaking their hands eagerly. “Thank you gentleman for coming to see me. I have something I wish to discuss, but not here.” Joey paused and looked around cautiously “As they say walls have ears. Would you gentleman be so kind as to follow me to my new office?”
“New office?” Edgar looked perplexed at the statement. He had never heard of a 2nd office for Joey Drew.
Joey turned to look at him excitedly “Why yes! Our lovely studio is in the process of expanding to new heights and I've decided to move my office to a lower level to clear up some space on the upper floors for new staff. I'd rather shoulder the burden of the studio's weight rather then make some poor employees suffer by traveling to lower levels, but come, this best be discussed elsewhere.”
Joey urged both young men to leave the office locking it behind them before they traveled down the halls to the elevator. The studio seemed eerily silent as they passed through the halls, almost as if everyone abandoned the building leaving it to it's fate at the hands of its owner. Joey unlocked the gate drawing it open and ushered the boys within closing it behind them. With the push of a button they were descending into lower levels of the studio.
A captive audience now secured Joey decided to break the sounds of the creaking and moaning elevator ride. “So boys.” his voice causing Edgar and Earl to look away from the gaps in the grate to look at him. “Tell me, what is your dream within this studio? What goals do you boys have?” he smiled while leaning gently on his cane.
Edgar looked at Earl before speaking. “Sir, my dream is to be the best drummer and musician out there. To wow the crowds with my beat and to see 'em dancing and having fun.”
Earl followed up. “I love to see people dancin' and swaying with my music and seein' them hop to and fro with a spring in their step. Music is the sounds of life after all.”
Joey nodded as he listened to the boy's tales of their upbringing growing up in a household that was poor and even poorer after the stock market crash. That the only thing they had between them was their instruments that were handed down from their Grandfather who traveled to America seeking a better life. The Irishman had a rough time starting out in the states, but was a hard worker and persistent. He believed in working hard and enjoying what you do no matter how minuscule it was. He had a spring to his step as he brought the music of his home with him and taught it to them when their father passed away from the influenza several years ago as their mother had passed away from childbirth. They used the music of their upbringing along with music they had listened to in the streets to better themselves and use their music as a means of an income to help ease the burden on their aging grandfather whom was still working. Throughout the course of their stories the elevator came to a stop jolting slightly as a signal that they had reached their destination.
“Ah, we are here gentleman.” Joey grinned as he opened the gate allowing the two young men to exit before himself.
Earl and Edgar stared in awe at the new administration level. It was a lot fancier than the one upstairs and was far more accommodating to guests and was quite spacious. It had a more roomy feel rather than the more cramped upper floors and they were able to see why Joey was proud of this expansion.
“Impressive, isn't it?” The director chuckled at watching the twins gawk at the halls before them. “This way please.” Joey drifted down the hall towards his new office with a large placard that read 'Joey Drew'. He opened up his office and lead them inside. “Sit down boys and make yourselves comfortable.”
Earl and Edgar took the man up on his offer and seated themselves at the couch that looked very new and they found it to be far more comfortable in comparison to the chairs and couches on the upper levels. They practically let out a happy sigh as they sank into the cushions. While the two men were enjoying the accommodations Joey rummaged around his desk pulling out a bucket filled with ice and several bottles of pop resting within them. The drinks caught the boys attention as they looked towards their boss with confusion gaining Joeys attention and a small chuckle.
“I heard you boys enjoyed these beverages and after all what type of host would I be if I didn't accommodate my guests?” The man set the bucket down on the table before the twins gesturing for them to take one. “Go on and take one. Enjoy the drinks while I get some papers that I'd like you boys to take a look at.”
The twins nodded and helped themselves to the colorful drinks happily popping the caps off with a satisfying pop before downing the beverages while Joey fiddled with some papers on his desk. The director cracked a small smile behind his papers as the boys finished their drinks and looked up at him ready to deal with whatever the director had planned.
“Now then boys lets cut to the chase.” Joey addressed the two. “I have a little project that I have been working on the side lines and it needs to have a little 'life' put into it and I would like to know if I can get some opinions from some such as you who are young and would know our audience better than I.”
“oh, uuh sure!” Edgar chirped before he was hit with a wave of nausea. “wh-what?” The young man swayed in his seat as the world spun around him and watched helplessly as his brother collapsed on the table next to him, his strength fading as exhaustion was overtaking him. Edgar managed to catch himself just before he hit the table, but the rest of his body was unresponsive and laid all over the floor. He blearily looked up at Joey who's grin rivaled the smiling devil of the studio before his world swirled to black.
Joey glanced at his watch with a small scowl taking mental note that drugging the soda drinks and waiting for the beverage to take effect took longer then he would have liked. No matter, he still had time to do what was needed to be done before everyone went back to work. He was just thankful the boys didn't notice the lack of the hissing sound that an undisturbed drink makes. With a bit of concentration and incantation he summoned up his creature of ink finding that the more he used it the more a solid form it seemed to take. Instead of it being a blob of tendrils and oozing ink it had taken on an almost rodent like form with a serpentine tail and tendrils that formed a mane around it's neck and down parts of its back. He willed it to take the boys to the throne room where the circle was, the beast nodded in response. The creature tried to travel through the ink attempting to pull the two young men behind it and to it's dismay it couldn't take them with it and made a small whining sound irking Joey.
“Through the door!” Joey shouted at the beast making it flinch before it grabbed both twins by their waists and dragged them off leaving behind a frustrated Joey.
The man rubbed his temples to stave off an oncoming headache. It was going to be cumbersome to have to trick people into coming to the lower levels just to have to drag them to the circle on the off chance that these two boys weren't what was needed for Bendy to be complete. God he hoped it wouldn't have to come to that. It was already hard enough to keep Bertie's staff away from the area with them constantly demanding access to other sections of the studio and Thomas had sent GENT away telling them that the majority of the job was done. Ha! What a laugh riot. GENT left sections of the studio unfinished as many passageways were dead end halls or only had timbers to support them like some random mine somewhere, but then again Thomas and GENT were only called in to work on the Ink Machine not to do every little upgrade the studio needed. Joey let out a sigh and slowly removed himself from his chair to follow the trail of ink that the beast had left behind.
Joey once again entered the cavern housing the Ink Machine and grumbled as he stood at the shores of the massive Ink Lake with the Ink Machine beyond it. This was another thing that he hoped he wouldn't have to do again. Crossing the moat always left him more tired then he'd like to admit to and his leg would ache for hours afterwards. Before he was about to step foot into the inky abyss the machine groaned and grumbled catching Joey's attention. Pipes rose from the bottom of the lake breaching the inky surface and slowly the twisted and twined around each other while Joey backed away in fear of what was going on. One by one the pipes rested against each other forming a bridge across the moat and waited patiently for it's owner. Laughter bubbled up out of Joey’s throat as he marveled at the bridge before him and the machine that seemed to respond to his will. Perhaps at last he will finally have his perfect Bendy.
Renewed energy coursed through Joeys body as he hastily made his way across the moat with ease looking up at the machine with a sense of pride, strength and satisfaction. The Machine had been designed and filled with magic that at the time of it's creation he didn't fully understand. He copied many circles and inscriptions into the core of the machine from the various sections of the book along with some of his blood. He wasn't an expert in magic, but knew that the spells came at a price, that for now he was getting the rewards before he pays his dues. When that time comes he has thousands to offer up as payment since he would have no need for the extra people anymore, they would have served their purpose. Surely the machine will gladly take as many as it needs to equate the price of one.
Glee filled his heart as he saw ink pumping through the glass tubes that lined it's halls to the throne room, the machine was getting ready for the next ritual.
---- Meanwhile Above ----
Tom drifted throughout the ink machine room checking various crates, shelving and any small space between the pipes. His thoughts were filled with the memories of holding Benny and couldn't help but wonder where the little toon had disappeared to without being seen by anyone thus far. His not so quiet ransacking of the room was met with a knock on the doorway drawing his attention to the entrance to see a heavy set man wearing a gaudy suit that looked like a Broadway performers costume sporting a long mustache that was curled at the end and a colorful top hat that looked too small for his head. The man known as Bertrum Piedmont.
An irritated sigh escaped Tom's lips. “What?”
“What indeed.” The man waddled into the room scowling at Thomas ,waltzing right up to him jabbing a chubby finger in Thomas's chest. “Thanks to the ineptitude of your staff, Joey had restricted my teams access to our warehouse and work area and to make matters worse our entire stockpile of experimental bendy themed candies and snacks have all gone missing.”
Tom rolled his eyes at the mans commentary about the candies and snacks missing, naturally he would be the only one who would care given his size. The more Tom listened to Bertrum’s bemoaning the missing items and all the work that they put into making sure they were the highest quality sweets possible, the more his eyes went wide at the about sheer quantity the missing items. Tom grabbed Bertrum by his shoulders shutting the heavy set man up. “Did you say ALL of the experimental candies and snacks were gone?”
Bertrum looked at Thomas annoyed “Unhand me.” the man shrugged Tom's hands off allowing Bertrum to take a step back from the mechanic and brush off his shoulders. “Yes We had been making many types of candies and sweets for the amusement park alongside the rides for which all were to get approval by Mr. Drew. Now I have only the rides for show for my efforts as somehow our entire stockpile of the food is gone. Do you have any idea how far this sets us back?”
“Yeah, yeah I”m sure.” Tom rolled his eyes irritating Bertrum. “How large of a stock pile did you have?”
Bertrum huffed and reached into his breast pocket pulling out a small note pad and monocle before proceeding to read. “ 15 pounds of Bendy chocolates, 10 pounds of cotton candy, 2 bags of 50 piece Alice angel candies, one of our newest treats and the pinnacle of confectionery craft the Boris bones a gummy candy and 30lbs of those are gone, and all the stored drinks are all gone. The only thing that was left was the popcorn kernels for which there was a large tear in the bag and they were spilled everywhere. I demanded information as to whether or not the studio has rats and no one said there were any so that leaves someone stole them. I fail to understand how such a large quantity can simply vanish overnight, Few have access to the lower levels and I want to know if you have seen or heard anything about it?”
Tom couldn't believe the amount of food that had suddenly gone missing, the amount of food that disappeared would have anyone screaming for the infirmary or a toilet, that only leaves one last option. Benny. Allison had eluded to the toon's appetite and since no staffer as reported a lost lunch so that only leaves the food that is within the studio itself. He had yet to hear of any of the stock piles of bacon sound that had been left around being eaten meaning that Benny may not recognize them as a food source or he doesn't eat them, nor could he blame him. The candies and snacks would be a perfect lure since the sweet smell would draw him out. Tom spun on his heel looking over his shoulder before leaving “Nope, haven't heard a thing. Thanks Bertie.” The man sped out the room hearing Bertrum shouting 'That's Bertrum!'.
Tom raced down the halls towards the elevator with renewed vigor and determination. Benny had to have gotten to the lower levels somehow and had found a food source at Bertrum's shop. Tom practically threw himself into the elevator closing it's gates and hit the button to take him to the lower levels. His decent down was not nearly fast enough for his tastes, but given the fact that the elevator was working somewhat smoothly and not dropping him into an unknown pit was his small saving grace. When the elevator lurched and came to a stop opening up it's gate for it's rider to exit, Tom tore out of it like a missile as he ran down the halls leading to the park's workshop and storage area. To his dismay there were workers there and not a single one of them seemed at all pleased at Tom's sudden intrusion. Some of them even seemed to be on the defensive and not allow him much further into the workshop despite his protests. He wouldn't help but wonder what got their goat going, he knew it was the luncheon period, but that was no excuse to chase him off with near violence.
Taking his losses at the main entrance to the workshop Tom decided to sneak in on the sides were there were fewer staff. He was thankful that the side entrances were empty and it allowed him to circle around the freshly built booths and unfinished rides. He moved towards the back of the rides and spotted Bertrum’s pride and joy that was nearly complete, the octopus ride. He personally wasn't fond of those sort of rides and was about to keep walking when something at the base of the ride caught his attention. The center portion of the ride which normally held several massive mirrors so the patrons could see themselves as they went around was hollow as the mirrors hadn't been installed yet. At the core of the pillar was dozens upon dozens of black cords that were clinging to the doors that had been opened and at the base was a black cocoon that was slowly melting. Benny was here!
Tom ran to the base of the ride climbing up on it's frame as best he could to scour the heart to see if Benny was inside. To his dismay the toon was not there and the cocoon was slowly falling apart as his hands had dug through its core. Benny was here, but how long ago? Did the staff know he was here? Tom removed himself from the ride and scurried around the booths seeking out any lone staffer that he might be able to pin and get some answers from. He saw one of the booths that read 'concessions' and crept behind the stand to see the stand was completely empty except for a bendy shaped trash can in the corner that was overflowing with empty wrappers and bags. He opened the can and pulled out a few of the bags and held one of them up to the light to examine it better. The corner of the bag was bitten off by something sharp and left triangular marks almost like a shark had gotten a hold of the bag. Tom couldn't hide the look of confusion on his face as he turned the bag over in his hands and then pulled out a few more that bore similar marks. What did this? The marks are too large to be a humans, but surely this couldn't have been done by Benny, could it? In theory the toon's teeth are flat just like how Bendy is drawn in the cartoons.
Taking a glance at the bag Tom decided to pocket one of the empty bags and carefully crept out of the booth and back out into one of the larger work areas. To his surprise this area was full of various games and towards the end of the hall was an elevator shaft with something moving within. He narrowed his eyes at the shaft confused at the movement within until the ink machine passed the grate as made its slow descent to the levels below. This got Tom's attention. The ink machine doesn't move on it's own and let alone who is moving it? The man didn't have long to look a the now empty shaft before the angry shout of one of Bertrum's staffers sent him heading back to the elevator to leave.
---- In the throne room ----
Bendy laid lifelessly on the throne with his eyes firmly shut refusing to acknowledge anything in the room. Even when the door creaked open filling the room with it's whines Bendy refused to acknowledge it. Every time that door opened it wasn't to free him, it was just a means to an end to add onto the hell he was a prisoner in. The young man, Leonard, was the only one who tried to help him and that got the man killed and sent to the ink. The noises within the room weren't the normal sounds of footsteps as they were wet splashing sounds along with what sounded like something was dragging. This encouraged Bendy to open his eyes and see what exactly was going on in the room and the sight before him feel nothing but dread in his stomach.
An inky black creature that Bendy didn't recognize was in the room, the beast was slithering across the floor dragging two unconscious young men. The creature briefly looked at him before a toothy sneer graced it's rat like head before setting the two boys on the circle. Bendy instantly knew what was going to happen, not again! The toon struggled in his bindings shouting at the young men trying to wake them with neither moving. His shouts and pleas for them to wake up and run stopped when he heard a familiar yet unwelcome voice.
“Now, now Bendy. There's no need to shout.” The silvery smooth yet menacing voice sounded from behind his chair. Bendy turned as best he could to see Joey Drew stepping around his chair as the man lightly wobbled on his cane before coming to a stop in front of Bendy.
“Let them go, please.” Bendy softly spoke, his eyes looking up at Joey searching for any signs of humanity within the cold shell of a man. His only answer was the mans silver unflinching eyes boring holes into him before he turned to walk to the circle. “Please, Joey! Don't do this! They haven't done anything to you, It doesn't matter who you bring because the results will be the same. I am who I am! Just let them go. I don't care if you leave me here, but there is no need to try and drag others down thinking it will fix something that was never broken!”
This got the mans attention as he stepped away from the circle with a clear scowl on his face before storming up to the base of the throne with his eyes glaring down at the toon. Joey grabbed Bendy by his lower jaw and forced him to look at the man. “I never said you were 'broken', I said you were incomplete as you are a mere mockery of Bendy. You look like him, but don't act like him. You're hollow with nothing inside to make you who you are supposed to be.” Joey maliciously spat.
Bendy narrowed his eyes in anger with a frown on his face. “what you see is what you get Drew, I am myself and nothing you can do can change that.”
“Hmph, and what I see is an empty shell pretending it has emotions.” Joey shoved Bendy's head back onto the chair before the man removed himself from the circle.
Joey began his chant and like before the machine responded to it's master, bleeding ink from it's walls the ink cascading down to the floor and was drawn towards the circles like snakes. Bendy watched in horror and sorrow as the ink rose around the two boys like scythes,but turned his head to keep from seeing them being torn apart and turned to ink. The mental images of Leonard's demise still fresh in his mind, but this time at least the boys were asleep and he had hoped they didn't feel it. When he opened his eyes he saw only the inky remains of two young men whom he never knew and the grim fact that now it was his turn to feel the pain of their sacrifice. The inky plunged it's way into Bendy's core nearly drawing a scream from the toon, but he didn't, he wasn't going to give Joey the satisfaction.
This time Bendy didn't pass out from the ritual and was very aware of what was being done to his body. He watched as his body contorted and grew to an almost skeletal humanoid shape while barely retaining his left hand, head and bow tie. The pain was agonizing as the magic of the ritual was coursing through his body, but the only thing that was keeping him awake was rage. He was furious that this man was killing innocent people sacrificing them to the ink to fulfill some foolish ideology. The pathetic belief that he was a hollow toon because he didn't dance to his predetermined script. He was never hollow to begin with as he was his own toon. He had a heart, mind and soul that belonged to him and him alone, he didn't need anything else. This man's murdering good people for his own gain and needs to be stopped.
Despite the inky veil blotting out most of Bendy's vision he took a small glance at his now much longer left arm and realized that Joey may now be in his reach. He's going to make that man pay. It took all the demons strength to push past the pain and to focus on maintaining his monstrous unnatural form as it was his added size and strength he needed to carry out his deed. He willed his arm to move, silently thankful that Leonard had undone the clasps on his hands and cautiously flexed his fingers slowly moving his hand all the while that Joey was focused elsewhere. The beast next to Joey watching Bendy all the while with an eerie satisfied grin on it's face.
Joey scowled at the form Bendy has assumed again at the introduction of a soul and this time it was 2 souls. Were they not the right ones or was it not enough? The man turned around and pulled out his black book fingering through its contents, trying to figure out what he was doing wrong. There was one thing he was sure of; dragging people all the way to the depth was a major pain and he wondered if it were possible to do the deed that needed to be done from a distance, let alone on a larger scale. His fingers floated through the pages until it landed on several sister circles that could suit his needs and the requirements for them. Only the small rattling sound of the chains that bound him alerted Joey as to what was going on behind him and by the time the man turned around it was too late.
Bendy flexed claws that protruded out of his gloves and swung with the remaining strength he had and side swiped the aged director sending the man crashing into one of the projectors. Joey howled in pain at the injury dealt to him as the man grasped his bleeding side glaring at the smirking demon. The inky creature that Joey kept at his side lunged at the bound demon and bit down on Bendy's neck while burying it's claws into the demons chest and sides extracting shrill cries of pain. A dull crack sound rang from the demons neck cutting his screams short and ink began to wash off the figure to reveal Bendy unconscious. Once the toon was silenced the inky creature removed itself and slithered up to Joey with it gently pushing on the man trying to help him sit up.
Joeys face was full of rage. How dare Bendy hurt him again, after all that's he's done for him! No matter, once he gets a soul he'll behave how he's supposed to and won't ever strike him again. The man looked at the inky beast at his side and saw the creature open it's maw and a black tongue dripped out as it was trying to lick his wounds!
“Begone you infernal creature!” Joey swatted at the beast until some of the ink that made up it's tongue hit his wound.
The pain was excruciating. The director howled in agony and despite his protests the beasts tendrils pinned his flailing arms and kicking legs giving it access to lick his wounds. The more it dripped it's ink on his wounds the less it hurt as he looked down to see his injuries being sealed by the ink completely numbing the pain. The man eventually quieted down and relaxed trying to recover from his bout with the injury. He took several steadying breaths before he tried to move. The creature took the man's attempts at getting up as a sign of recovery and removed itself from the man allowing Joey to stand on wobbly legs.
The ache from Joey's leg had returned with a vengeance, and he cursed the demon that laid bound in chains. He took an experimental step forward finding that despite the damaged the demon had dealt him, he was feeling no pain from the blow and if anything was feeling better than he was before. The only pain he had felt was from the ache in his leg. He lightly patted his side checking his wound noting that the area had been replaced with ink and black spider web like mark radiated from the area and into his veins. Panic began to set in at the sight before him but a voice rang through his mind.
'It will be alright. The ink will keep you alive until you are able to complete your goal. You have a dream to fulfill Joey Drew.'
Joey immediately whirled around looking for the source of the voice in his head. “Who's there!” he shouted into the open air.
'Why are you shouting into the open air when I'm standing right here?'
Joey continued to look around ignoring the creature that stood behind him. The man fearing someone saw him. “Show yourself!”
'Oh you are a funny human being. How can I show myself when I am already here? It is you who are refusing to look at what's directly in front of you.'
A small chuckle sounded out from behind Joey, the simplest of sound a kin to a room of children all giggling with many undertones. The man turned on his heel to face the beast that he kept at his side. The creature he summoned up from his dealings with magic from his book.
The beast seemed to give a toothy grin before a subtle laugh emanated from it. 'Oh so you can use your eyes Joey Drew.'
The man immediately backed away from the creature in fear as best he could before his leg gave out on him sending him toppling onto a projector. At the man's tumble the beast slowly slithered up to the man but stopped when Joey began to wave his cane at the creature to defend himself “S-Stay back!”
'As you wish, after all you summoned me and I cannot harm my master.' the beast sat on it's strange haunches with it's rodent like head bowing. It's mouth turned into an amused grin bearing razor like teeth.
Joey stared at the creature in disbelief and concern “Wh-What do you mean summoned? You're only suppo-”
The beast laughed before Joey finished his statement 'What? Only supposed to be a creature of pure ink that you can magically somehow control? Get real Drew. You summoned me the minute you started drawing the runes mixed with your blood within your machine. Why else do you think the machine responds to your call? I am what lies within your machine, I am the Ink Machine.'
“But how can that be? This form?” Joey stuttered out trying to grasp the creature's appearance that seemed to bubble and warp as it sat staring at him, the only part of its body that stayed consistent was it's rodent like head and frame.
'Oh, this was a form you gave me when you were trying to bend the ink to your will on your own without my help. It seemed that you needed some assistance, so I chose between a collection of creatures you were so happily drowning in my ink. I even lent you more of my power so you can achieve your goal.' The beast sneered at him. 'I'll help you achieve your dream Drew, after all that’s what I was summoned for.'
“You're a demon!” Joey stood on wobbly legs putting on a brave face. “I never agreed to no contract!”
'you sealed the deal with mixing your blood in the runes of the Ink Machine Joey Drew. You wanted a way of bringing your cartoons to life and I'm giving it to you. There is no such thing about using magic without making a deal,or did you fail to read the instructions when you got a hold of my book?'
“What is it that you're after? My soul? I know you demons want human souls.” Joey straightened up glaring at the ink beast.
'As you've said, you own thousands of them. I'm certain I can find one that suits my taste's' The creatures long tongue flicked over it's teeth at the thought.
“Fine. You can take any of my staffs soul of your choosing, but only after I get my toons.” Joey held out his hand waiting for reciprocation, but got no response. “It's customary for a handshake to seal the deal.”
The beast looked at him unamused, but simply stood up on it's hind legs with it's form collapsing and bubbling as it reformed. The form the creature took made the man flinch, but held fast because the thing that stood before him was himself. The ink duplicate of himself bore sharp irregular teeth, pale paper white skin, a black suit and hollow black voids where his eyes were supposed to be. The 'man' held out his hand taking it in Joeys lightly shaking it.
'Oh I'm familiar with your human customs Drew' it darkly laughed. 'Now' it turned it's head to look at the collection of ink that had washed off Bendy had now taken the form of two shivering inky humanoids both looking at the two Joey's in fear. 'lets get ready for your toons.'
The beast laughed as the room pulsed and groaned with the Ink Machine's pipes descending from the ceiling and some erupting from the floor. The creature melting back to it's rodent like monstrosity with its tendril like mane before grabbing the shivering humanoids and began to drag them. The two lost souls kicked and screamed trying to free themselves from their bindings before their screams were drowned by the lake of ink they were pulled into.
With the silence now restored to the room except the soft hum of the projectors playing the Bendy shorts the inky beast looked up at Joey. 'First things first. We need to add a few more runes to the circle to accommodate the sister circles. After all you don't want to be dragging a poor soul all the way down here when you can do it from the comfort of your office now would we?' it gave the man a toothy grin.
Joey paced about the circle drawing the required runes with guidance from the inky beast beside him. By the time the runes were complete Bendy had woken and lay lifelessly at the throne resigned to his fate. The inky beast silently studying Bendy before a small grin grew on its face before resuming it's tutoring the director. Once the runes were complete the circle glowed slightly drawing in the piping that had been summoned. They hovered at the edge of the circle but did not move further.
'Now the last step Drew.' The beast moved aside gesturing to the pipes that hovered at the edge of the circle. 'Connect the pipes to him'
Joey lifted a brow “How?” His answer was several sharp needle like protrusions erupting out the end of the pipes. “Oh.”
'This will allow the soul turned to ink to flow through the machine and into Bendy so you're not having to travel such a long way on little weak legs' The creature chuckled in a mocking tone.
“And this will fix my problem with Bendy and you'll get your needed payment?” Joey questioned with his hand hovering over the pipe. The man uncertain about the benefit of connecting the Ink Machine to Bendy let alone about the payment of a soul for the demon aiding him.
'You'll get your toon Drew, or do you not want to see your creations entertaining the audiences that their 2D counterparts could only dream of? Doomed to be a mere image on the screen while you're studio is going bankrupt from a project that the whispers of your staff calls 'useless, annoying and inconvenient'. The creature drew up images in a puddle of ink it summoned of various faceless staff whispering amongst each other complaining about the Ink Machine and their concerns about Joey Drew. The puddle whispered about many of them looking for new work elsewhere and some even toying with ideas of filing complaints about the working conditions. The beast snaked around Joey with it's serpentine tail coiled around Joey's arm and hand. 'All it takes is a few pipes to the heart to fix all your problems' The demonic beast whispered into the man's ear.
Joey was enraged by the images the beast of a demon showed him, the whispers of staff whom he vaguely recognized and all of them going behind his back to tarnish his name. He is Joey Drew owner of Joey Drew Studios and he will be on top, he doesn't need them. He owns them, he can easily replace them! With that last thought racing through his mind, his hand gripped around the pipe with determination and drove it's needles deep into Bendy's chest where his heart would be, connecting the pipe to him. Upon the pipe burrowing into Bendy's chest the toon screamed while the inky demon behind joey laughed darkly before melting into the ink on the floor returning to it's heart within the Ink Machine. It's job here was done.
Joey attached several more pipes to Bendy's chest before he removed himself from the throne and stood back to admire his handiwork. Now he would be able to sort through the staff at a faster rate to find a candidate for Bendy. He would no longer have the need to venture all the way to the depths of the studio to perform the ritual, with a little work he can do it from his office and have the ease of the machine removing the ink for him. He only has to make sure Thomas and Wally maintain the machine cause even though a demon is it's heart, it's still a mechanical device. With renewed determination Joey picked up his cane off the floor and hastily made his way to the elevator to return to his real office. The first thing on his agenda upon returning; start seeking out the traitorous staff trying to ruin him behind his back. You never know, one of the traitors can be a match for his toons.
#batim stitched au#bendy and the ink machine#allison connor#thomas connor#batim allison#batim thomas#bertrum piedmont#batim bertrum#joey drew#batim ocs#bendy the dancing demon#bendy the dancing devil#bendy the demon#bendy the devil#benny the stitched demon#benny the stitched devil#benny the stitch devil#benny the stitch demon#wally franks#batim wally#norman polk#batim norman#sammy lawrence#batim sammy
26 notes
·
View notes
Text
Killervibe week day 1
Fake dating
Cisco frowned at his deskspace, reaching up to rub his eyes, trying to fight off what promised to be a monster headache. Something was off. Not the pile of papers, and it didn’t look like anyone had gotten into his redvines jar or disturbed any of the other tools and trinkets, but still. Maybe he just needed more coffee--even if Caitlin and Iris both agreed that he Really Didn’t. He reached for the cup and blinked.
“Caitlin?”
“Mm?” Caitlin poked her head out of the medbay that adjoined the cortex. “What’s wrong?”
“Can you tell me how long I’ve had this?” he held up the blue mug, with the TARDIS outlined in darker blue and white. The coffee in it was still warm.
“You got the coffee ten minutes ago, Cisco, are you feeling ok? Wait, did you hit your head in that last fight? You told me you were fine, and if we need to have another talk about lying to your doctor--”
“Not the coffee, and no, I didn’t hit my head. I don’t think. The mug. Since when?”
“Last month. The station gave it to you after you fixed their coffee machine again. What do you mean, ‘you don’t think,’ Cisco, it’s a yes-or-no question.”
Cisco thunked his head down on the desk with a louder bang than he’d intended. The mug was wrong, he usually kept just a regular STAR labs mug, or the Star Trek mug the Steins had gotten him for his birthday at the lab, and this one looked familiar, but...differrent. So how--- looking up, the light that glimmered on the edge of the mug and the glass wall as Caitlin passed it shone blue, and Cisco thunked his head down again.
“I’m going to kill him.”
“Be more specific,” Caitlin advised. “And look up, I need to see if you have a concussion.”
“Where’s Barry?” Cisco asked by way of reply. “It’s not a concussion--”
“You just slammed your head against your desk so I’ll be the judge of that. I’m not sure, probably with Iris. Or running down a lead for dealing with our newest friend.” She jerked a thumb at the display screen with all the information on the latest supervillain threat.
Cisco grumbled, but let Caitlin cup his cheek with one hand and shine a light at his face with the other, wincing a little at the brightness. “Better question, when is Barry.”
Caitlin’s eyebrows rose for a fraction of a second before furrowing. “What do you mean--wait--that’s what the mug’s about?”
Cisco nodded. “Used to be different. Not sure if the whole story changed or if I just… brought this one to STAR or something.. It could be something small…”
“Frost says he better be now, and she’s--saying things I won’t be repeating she can say them to his face later.” Caitlin sighed. “He promised he’d stop messing with time, at least without warning us.”
“I’m going to see if I can figure out what else he changed. God. Remind me to pester Ray for an update for Gideon so she can do this instead of me.”
Caitlin nodded. “Want me to call Iris?”
“Nah. Let’s make sure this wasn’t like the first time he time traveled. Or the… third? If it was an honest mistake that happened because he was outrunning a, a--”
“A tidal wave, or a magical explosion that vaporized the rest of us, yeah. Frost still wants a word with him.”
“She can get in line.” Cisco leaned back, trying to concentrate, finding the threads of energy that wove through him and into the larger picture; trying to trace those threads to the place the blue turned to gold. Images flickered, a montage of clips, like evidence stacking up in a crime drama during a detective’s voice over, or Wally speedwatching an entire season of masterchef, but nothing major seemed to be highlighted, nothing felt too off or wrong--
Something drew his internal gaze deeper. A crime scene, from a few months ago, two images trying to compete for memory space. Blue versus full color, they were almost identical: the Flash standing on a rooftop, the costumed villain standing a few feet away, crackling with green fire. One thing was different. A blue-tinted body lay to one side of the two. That wasn’t right. The fight had just been a fight, no one had gotten seriously hurt (Barry’s broken arm had healed in half an hour, that didn’t count as serious.)
He drew back from the vibe. “ I… think I found it? The thing that changed. Someone died in that fight with Witchfyre.”
Caitlin shook her head “No, no one was up there, the nightguard--oh. Well, that’s… something. We can still be mad at him though.”
“Oh absolutely. I mean, seriously, this is what we call in the legends for.” Cisco grumbled. “I’m going to have headaches the next two times we fight Witchfyre, I swear to God.”
“Two?” Caitlin asked. “We locked them up.”
“Yeah they’re still alive, so statistically speaking--”
Caitlin muffled some laughter. “You sit those out then. Barry can deal with them himself.”
“That’s right.” Cisco took a redvine. “You know, he never bothers to figure out exactly what happened in the time he changes, he just goes along with it. Be nice to pull a surprise on him. One that, you know, wasn’t shitty for us.”
Caitlin nodded. “If we get Iris in on it we could swap McSnurtle for an alligator lizard or something.”
Cisco frowned. “She’s really bad at lying, though… hmm… not enough time to paint the cortex…I’m not cutting my hair.what does that leave?”
“How far back did he go?” Caitlin asked, stealing a redvine.
“Two months and three days,” Cisco said. “So that limits things a little....”
“Gives us enough time for today to be our two month aniversary and he promised to be on watch at STAR while we went out to that new Italian place,” Caitlin offered after a moment.
“He’s going to get that deer-in-headlights look,” Cisco agreed. “Oh man, that’s genius.”
“Who’s going to what?” Barry asked, catching some of the papers that went flying as he skidded in.
“Finally,” Caitlin said, making a show of checking her watch. “I was about to call. Did you hit your head in that last fight?”
“...no? Why?”
“So you just forgot Caitlin and I had our date tonight?” Cisco asked, hoping he could pass off his tripping over ‘date’ as mild indignance.
“Your wha-- I mean,” Barry’s face matched the red of his suit and just as quickly went dead white. “ Um.. that was… today?”
“Yes,” said Caitlin, grabbing her coat. “You know the drill, text if there’s an emergency, don’t blow anything up, set the alarm when you leave--”
“--And don’t fuck with time,” Cisco said with her as they left.
The Dinner was nice. Caitlin hadn’t been out for Italian in ages, but it was a quiet enough place with good food. Cisco held up his phone. “ Evidence selfie?”
Caitlin laughed, and leaned her head against his. His hair was soft, and she took a moment before pulling away, after the picture was taken.
Her phone beeped, and she glanced at it.
“Uh oh.”
“What’s wrong?” Cisco asked.
“....we forgot something.”
“What did we forget? Dessert?” he reached up absently, checking for his vibe goggles,but no, he’d stored them safely.
“Iris just texted.”
“....and she didn’t timeline hop. Right.” Cisco sighed, crestfallen.
“Also we forgot to order dessert,” Caitlin continued. “Wanna split a Tiramisu?”
“What about…”
“I think we can get Iris in on this,” Caitlin said, sliding the phone away before Cisco could see the text in question.
From Iris, 7:52
It’s about time! details!?
Cisco grinned. “In that case, absolutely. How long do you think it’ll take Barry to realize?”
Caitlin thought for a moment “Not until the holidays at least.”
“There’s always something big then,” Cisco nodded. “ I say, next May.”
“Loser buys cake and ice cream for a week.”
In the end, Barry only figured it out when their one year anniversary was a few months off from when he was sure it was.
#killervibeweek19#god i realize that this is just lead up to and not actual dating but i do my best i am just a little ace hedgi#killervibeweek
16 notes
·
View notes
Text
The Ink Demonth 2
Today is Growth. So it’s Joey and Bertie time~ We’re gonna have some emotional growth!
Featuring my Joey very prominently
---------------------------------------------
Bertram had never expected to see Joey Drew again. After Henry had freed the former employees from the studio, most had gone their separate ways. Some still kept in touch from what Bertram understood, but most of them had tried to get on with their lives and put the events of the studio behind them. Certainly, no one was trying to keep in contact with the man who’d done this to them. Lacie still kept in touch with Thomas, Shawn, and Grant, which by extension meant they also heard from Allison, Wally, and Jack. Bertram lived with Lacie now, in a little house in the suburbs of Milwaukee, close to his sister and her husband. He didn’t really work anymore, although Lacie had taken a job at a mechanic shop to keep herself busy. She liked staying busy.
In any case, Bertram had never expected to see Joey Drew again. Not after everything that had happened. Not after nearly over a year. Which was why Bertram had been so surprised to look up from his book and see Joey standing on the sidewalk leading up to the porch. He immediately tensed at seeing the former studio head, ready for a fight. Part of him expected things to go the way they had the last time. Joey would speak sweet words of poison and Bertram would end up hurt or worse, drawn into the tangled web of Joey’s plans.
But Joey looked smaller somehow, less sure of himself. There were dark circles under his eyes. The clothes he was wearing looked like hand-me-downs, judging mostly by how ill-fitting they were. His hair was pulled back in a messy ponytail, a style Joey had only ever utilized on the worst of days at the studio. There were a few streaks of grey in it now. He kept wringing his hands, his eyes looking everywhere but at Bertram, and he was chewing on his lip. Bertram didn’t think he’d ever seen Joey Drew nervous before. So he took a deep breath and tried to calm himself.
“Mr. Drew.” He closed his book, setting it down beside his chair. “To what do I owe the pleasure?” Joey blinked, stunned by the fact that he hadn’t immediately been yelled at. He stood there, opening and closing his mouth like a fish out of water. Across the street, a car honked.
“Talk to him!” A woman yelled, sticking her head out of the car. She bore a familial resemblance to Joey, especially in the face shape and the nose. A sister, Bertram concluded. He’d heard Joey had an older sister he wasn’t close to.
“I’m going to!” Joey went bright red, turning back to yell back at her.
“I suppose that’s your sister, then.” Bertram smiled despite himself.
“Oh, um, yes.” Joey turned back to him. “I’ve, uh, I’ve been staying with her and her family lately. She’s been...helping me.” He smiled slightly, gazing down at his feet. The expression was tender and soft. So different from anything he’d displayed while he’d been head of the studio.
“Would you like to come inside?” Bertram rose from his chair.
“I mean, I wouldn’t want to intrude.” Joey smiled nervously. “I only really came here to say one thing. It shouldn’t take too long.”
“You’ve come all this way.” Bertram gestured him over, opening the front door. “It would be rude to turn you away without inviting you in.”
“Well...alright.” Joey gave a quick thumbs up to his sister in the car and went inside.
The house was small but tidy. Bertram had done a lot of organization since they’d moved in. His sister had had his things stored away, so he was able to have most of his comforts once again. Lacie’s possessions had been lost as her landlord had thrown them out after she’d been missing for six months. She’d been upset at this, but there wasn’t much they could do. He’d comforted her as best he could. They had new things now. Books and house plants and little machines Bertram had been tinkering with. Bertram was particularly proud of the house plants. Wally had been teaching him how to properly take care of them and he hadn’t killed one in nearly a month!
“This is really nice.” Joey looked around in wonder.
“Thank you, I’ve done quite a lot of work to make it look good.” Bertram beamed. “I picked out the paint colors, but we ended up having to ask Mr. Flynn to assist us with properly painting. Lacie and Mr. Connor built the shelves themselves. She didn’t really trust a store to make them properly.”
He continued talking about the work they’d done as he led Joey to the kitchen. Joey was a little taken aback to see the park design so happy and open. He wasn’t sure if any of the other studio employees had ever seen this side of Bertram, but he certainly hadn’t. He’d probably been responsible for the majority of Bertram’s misery at the studio. He certainly hadn’t made things easy for him.
“In any case, what brings you here?”
“Um, sorry?” Joey snapped back to reality, realizing they had reached the kitchen. It was just as cozy as the rest of the house. There was a cat calendar on the wall, little knick-knacks on the shelves, a good number of cookbooks.
“What brings you here?” Bertram repeated, moving to fill up a kettle. “Milwaukee is a long way from New York. That is where you’re staying, yes?”
“Oh, yes.” Joey hovered nervously beside the kitchen table. “Well, I, uh, um...” He licked his, eyes darting around the room. Bertram set the kettle on the stove, turning it on. He kept his back to Joey, sensing it might be easier for the other man to say what he needed to say if Bertram’s eyes weren’t on him.
“I came...to apologize.” Joey finally said after a minute of hesitation and stammering.
“To apologize?” Bertram asked. His voice was neutral, but his grip on the counter loosened. He hadn’t entirely realized how tight he’d been gripping it.
“Yes.” Joey nodded, fumbling out a piece of paper from his pocket. “I, um, I have a list I’ve been working down. Former employees I need to apologize to. Essie said it would be good for me to make amends.”
“That’s good of you.” Bertram smiled to himself, getting out a few cups and some teabags.
“You all deserve an apology. You deserve so much more than that too.” Joey clutched the paper to his chest, hunching his shoulders. “But...An apology is all I can really give. I can’t...I can’t undo what I did. So...” He took a deep breath. “I’m sorry. I’m truly and utterly sorry. The things I did are inexcusable and reprehensible and I understand that there is nothing I can truly do to fix this.”
“That is true. There is precious little you can do to fix your mistakes.” Bertram poured the boiling water into the cups, turning and putting them on the table. “Still, I appreciate that you are attempting to make amends. The Drew I met in that damnable studio would never do such a thing unless he had to.” He settled at the table, stirring the tea with a spoon.
“I...Is that a compliment?” Joey’s brow furrowed in concern. He was still waiting for the moment when Bertram would snap, would berate him for all he’d done.
“It is,” Bertram assured him. “I believe you are a better man than you were. Or you are trying to become better at the very least.” Joey watched him for a moment or two, relief and confusion mixing on his features. Finally, though, he smiled.
“Thank you.”
“In any case, I appreciate the apology.” Bertram continued. “Lacie should be home soon if you’d like to apologize to her as well.”
“I...I would.” Joey nodded. His shoulders hunched again at the thought of speaking with her. Lacie Benton had no tolerance for bullshit and didn’t suffer fools lightly. He couldn’t imagine she harbored any good feelings toward him. Not after everything he’d done to her.
“Well, then.” Bertram nudged a chair toward Joey. “Take a seat.”
They spent an hour together before Lacie arrived. The conversation was rather awkward at times but they knew they both needed it. Joey apologized for disrespecting Bertram time and time again, which Bertram happily accepted. Eventually, the conversation got around to their families. That was a bit of an easier topic to talk about.
“Did someone take over the company after you...disappeared?” Joey asked, visibly hesitating on the last word.
“My sister, Charlotte, took care of it for a bit,” Bertram replied. “But it’s under the care of her son Augustus at the moment.”
“Did you try to take the company back?” Joey asked. He expected the answer would be yes. If there was something he and Bertram had in common, it was their tendency to work until their bodies or minds gave out.
“I considered the possibility, but Charlotte wouldn’t hear of it.” Bertram laughed, shaking his head. “She told me I’m a workaholic who needs to take a break.”
“Sounds familiar.” Joey murmured with a wry smile.
“Besides, the company is in good hands.” Bertram waved a hand dismissively. “Augustus is a capable man. Charlotte and Louis did a good job raising him.”
“That must be reassuring.”
“It is.” Bertram allowed himself a small smile. “How is your family?”
“They’re...” Joey twisted his mouth, searching for the right words. “I wish I had tried to see them sooner.” His sister had gotten married. He had a niece and a nephew. A niece and a nephew who were adults and had never met him before Esther had brought him back to the house. He’d abandoned his family and now they didn’t know him anymore.
“That’s understandable.”
Joey breathed a sigh of relief when he heard the front door open. He hadn’t particularly wanted to fall to pieces in front of Bertram. He was still emotionally raw when it came to his failings with his family.
“I’m back.” Lacie’s voice came from the entry hall. “Went by the store and picked up some of that rose tea you liked.”
“Thank you! I’m in the kitchen!” Bertram called. Joey sat up a bit straighter, pulling out his list again. His reminder of who he needed to make amends to. The heavy sound of Lacie’s boots grew closer until she appeared in the doorway. She stared at Joey. Her jaw clenched and her hold on the tin of tea tightened.
“What is he doing here?” The word had so much venom in it Joey almost wanted to turn and run. But he didn’t. He took a deep breath.
“Hello, Miss Benton.” He stood up, trying to still his shaking hands. His legs were still shaking, though. “I-I’ve come here to apologize.”
“He’s already given me his apology,” Bertram said. Lacie’s eyes flicked over to him momentarily before going back to Joey.
“Fine.”
“Than- Thank you.” Joey took a deep breath. “I’m...I’m sorry for all the things I did to you. I know that won’t fix everything I’ve done, but I want you to know that I truly regret my actions.”
The silence following his apology was excruciating for Joey. Lacie said nothing, just staring at him. It was hard to know what was going on in her mind. She’d never been the sort to wear her heart on her sleeve. Finally, Lacie spoke.
“I accept your apology.” She said. “But I’m not going to forgive you.”
“I wouldn’t ask you to.”
“Good.” Lacie turned away from him, heading to put the tin in a cupboard. “Thank you for coming to apologize.”
“You’re welcome.” Joey put his list away, breathing an internal sigh of relief. “I should probably be going now. Esther’s probably wondering why I’ve been in here so long.”
“Safe travels.” Bertram escorted him out.
Joey smiled to himself as he made his way back to Esther’s car. He’d been terrified he’d get cursed out, yelled at. That they would throw things at him. Gods knew he deserved it. But they hadn’t. They hadn’t forgiven him, but they’d accepted his apology.
“You were in there for a long time,” Esther said as he got back in. “Did everything go alright?”
“It did.” Joey nodded, feeling the tears starting to well up. “It went really well.”
Esther smiled gently, leaning over to hug him. “I’m proud of you, Jojo. You’re doing a good thing.”
Joey sniffled loudly, burying his face in his sister’s chest. The guilt wasn’t ever going to go away, he was sure of that, but it felt good to have his apologies accepted. He was making progress. They all were.
#bendy and the ink machine#fanfiction#the ink demonth#joey drew#bertrum piedmont#lacie benton#freckle drew#esther drew#esther klein
28 notes
·
View notes
Text
…
I have fallen into the small pit that is this ship and I’m not even bothering to get out. So, aside from doing some fanart, I’m writing up a story.
Summery: Finding someone special isn’t as easy as Susie thought, you never know who will steal your heart. Could me a musician, a director, or it could be a little angel, sent from above…
How far will you go to get that special someone into your life?
Warning: implied death/body horror, blood, Joey being a jerk as usual, Susie making a big mistake
Pairing: Susie/Alice (implied, onesided, at this point at least)
On with the fic!
--
When Susie was a child, she asked her mother when she find herself true love like in the books she read, or like the starlets of the screen. Her mother replied, ‘you’ll know who the right one for you is one day when they make you feel something very special, something you’ve never felt before and it makes you happier than you’ve ever been’.
For years Susie tried to figure out what that ‘special’ was. She dated and flirted with many a boy in high school and college, never went beyond five dates, at the most. She never even slept with any of them, men could be cute and charming, but she never found them… attractive? She wasn’t sure, she did find a few attractive, but not in the way that her friends seemed to find men they dated or married.
When she was hired to work at a little animation studio, Susie seemed to find some of the men there to be… interesting? She wasn’t sure, but she did find that the music director, the one in charge of her voicing characters for their new talky-toons, to be so charming. He had a nice smile, and lovely hair. Susie couldn’t help but to work her magic on the man, and they hit it off!
But not for long. Susie liked his company, but he was so quiet, reserved, and outside of work he was so fidgety and confused. She… decided they’d just stay friends.
Then Joey Drew himself seemed to enjoy speaking with her more, and Susie found that she didn’t mind his company. He was charismatic and seemed to have a big personality. He also liked to leave her little gifts, extra money in her paycheck… was this that special feeling? When a man made a girl feel like a queen?
Susie didn’t mind that at all, but there was something… strange about it. She didn’t feel like it was right, but she wasn’t sure.
Only two months into this business at the studio and already she got promoted to be the voice of the newest character to the batch, a special lady, sent from above!
The man who designed her, Henry, was a former employee who came back to work for a bit. He seemed to be on strange, bitter terms with their boss, but he was sweet. Out of everyone here, Henry seemed to be the nicest man in the studio, his wife was a lucky lady. He had approached her one day, politely asking if she’d like to be the voice of the new character he designed. He even showed her the design he had done.
Something about seeing the sketches and designs of the new character made Susie’s heart skip a beat.
Alice Angel, that was her name, a beautiful angel who fell from heaven. She could sing, she could dance, she was perfect! And then Henry asked her if she was willing to help him develop the character more. Susie remembered her face feeling hot, her heart beating harder in her chest.
Wow, this felt like such an honor! Henry had explained that since she’d be voicing the angel, she might as well have a hand in bringing her to life in other ways.
Susie was quick to agree and helped in developing Alice into the sweet gal she’d end up being when her first cartoon finally debuted. The actress remembered being in the viewing theater and holding back tears when she saw Alice coming down through the moonlit sky, on a little cloud, singing her heart out.
She was quick to take a poster of the short home. And every poster for every short she played in after that. All of them were framed, hung around her small home.
Black became a common color of her wardrobe, including black lipstick. There was just something about wearing these little changes that made Susie think, just maybe… Alice would notice? Oh, such a silly thought! She’s a cartoon character, she can’t see her in real life! But why does that fact make her chest ache?
She did her best to ignore these thoughts, maybe it was just her thinking too much of her perfect character. The actress had other things to focus on, like her developing relationship with Joey! The man had taken her out on a date recently, and he was such a gentleman about it, even paying the check!
During dinner, he called her Alice, and Susie couldn’t believe how happy that made her feel. Just… the idea of being called Alice, it made her so excited. She couldn’t help herself when she got home and told her posters.
Not too long after this, Susie found that Joey wasn’t the gentleman he came off as. She found that Henry had departed, leaving and not planning on returning. Why? No one knew, but Norman had mentioned that they got into a huge fight, but he didn’t know the details himself. After this, Joey became bitter, demanding more and more from the employees, and Susie was no exception.
Long hours were spent in the recording booth and even she was having trouble keeping up with all the voice roles that he kept giving her. But she never tired or became distraught over doing Alice, no, the angel kept Susie going through this difficult time. Until an incident happened, where her voice cracked during a recording for a song.
Joey had screamed at her about it, telling her he had no time for delays, that she was the reason that Alice wasn’t anywhere near as popular as Bendy! Susie was the reason that the merchandise wasn’t selling, or why they weren’t making money off of the Alice shorts! Maybe Alice should never have been created, she had just been a waste of time and money!
Even with a damaged voice, Susie screamed back at him, striking her boss across the face.
How dare he blame her for this! Alice as perfect, Alice was a star, Susie knew that people loved her almost as much as Susie did!
And in that moment, she stopped, eyes wide as she realized something.
No one loved Alice, at least… no one loved her as much as Susie did. Nor in the same way that Susie did…
She had left the studio and didn’t return for three days, Sammy calling her to tell her to rest her voice, they’d continue when she was better.
Susie spent the time at home, looking over her growing collection of Alice Angel merchandise. Much of it was the prototypes that Shawn had made, letting her have them. Many plush toys of the little darling, of different sizes and styles. Posters covered the walls, she had at least five cutouts, even a few cells that Henry had been kind enough to let her have.
Was… Alice really that person who made her feel special?
The actress had never felt anything like this before in her life, all her storybooks from childhood, her romance novels from now, all the things she’s seen in movies made her believe that these things she felt to be true.
But Alice is a character on the screen, beautiful, perfect, a true angel, and someone that the studio didn’t deserve! Especially that horrible Joey Drew, how dare he say all those awful lies about her and Alice!
When she went back to the studio, Susie was ready to give Joey another piece of her mind. But instead, she found Sammy in the recording studio with a girl.
Someone Joey had hired while Susie rested her voice.
To replace her as Alice Angel.
Nothing Joey had said days before compared to the pain Susie felt the moment Sammy told her that she was no longer playing Alice’s voice.
She felt like the man had reached into her chest and pulled her heart out, crushing the beating thing right in front of her face. She left in a daze, finding herself in her private area of the studio, past the toy factory. Susie finally broke down when it hit her like an axe to the side of the head, she had been replaced because she stood up to Joey for her true love.
There’s gotta be a way to fix this! There has to be a way…
--
Susie still worked for the studio, as an understudy for Allison Pendel, and as just another voice actress. Just like those first two months…
She was bitter, furious, she rarely said a word to anyone that wasn’t work related. And nothing was said to the replacement. Mama always said ‘if you can’t say anything nice, don’t say anything at all’ and Susie had nothing nice to say to that angel thief!
Recently, Susie had taken notice to strange things in the studio, people vanishing, strange noises, more ink than usual, and something in the vents that banged around and whistled. But she ignored it, probably just Wally up to something, or Joey being an idiot about not getting things fixed around here.
Speaking of the bastard, he had approached her earlier, said he had… an opportunity for her. Alright, Susie figured she’d give him the benefit of the doubt, but if that man thought he could double cross her again…
Oh, he had another thing coming. Alice, and Susie herself, did not like liars…
When he spoke with her in his office, Susie had been surprised at the offer he gave her: help him bring Alice to life, outside of ink and paint, outside of reels and screens.
Joey asked her to help make Alice a living, breathing, creation.
Susie was conflicted, this was playing God, this was dangerous. And yet… this gave her a chance, she could see the one she had fallen for, the one that was right for her, alive and with her…
She said yes.
And regretted it soon after, when she was introduced to Joey’s… other living toons. If they could even be called that. There were strange, living ink blobs that moaned and reached out at her, but he told her not to worry, they were trial and error creations! Nothing like what Alice would become! And then he introduced her to ‘Bendy’.
He was a sight to behold, a strange creature made of ink, wearing the devil’s signature smile. Joey told her that he was a proto-type for the real Bendy, that this ‘Bendy’ was a trial and error copy, it was just missing the proper ingredient.
That worried Susie, but he assured her that what Alice would need was nothing like what Bendy needed to come to life!
A few nights later, Susie found herself in a strange room she had never seen before, standing on a pentagram. There were people in the room with her, hidden in the shadows, but she could make out cardboard masks of the characters of the series, though they were mainly the Butcher Gang and Boris. She wore an Alice one, the only one, on her face.
Looking through the eye holes, she could see the two Bendy’s, one of them was Joey, the other she wasn’t sure. Joey gave her some sorta boring speech about how she was going to help bring Alice to life, to give her the heart and soul she needed to be on the mortal plane. Something about his words filled her with dread and doubt, but she was determined, she had to meet the beautiful angel that made her feel so special…
Then the lights went out, and when they came back on, the room was rumbling, the scent of ink was suddenly strong, something wet fell from a hole in the ceiling, and Joey was behind her. She barely had time to react as he shouted Alice’s name and slit her throat
Susie gagged on the blood that filled her mouth, then it mixed with the ink that suddenly poured from the ceiling and she dropped to the ground. The pentagram glowed brightly under her, gold, then red, then back to gold. Susie tried to scream for help, but all that came out was gargled words of blood and ink. She tried to scream for Wally, Norman, even Henry! But they weren’t here, she had no one in this room. The actress stared up at Joey, was he still talking? She couldn’t tell, but he seemed conflicted, concerned, gesturing to her as the other seemed to panic.
This was a mistake, she didn’t want to die to bring Alice into the world, she was depressed, yes, but she had so much to live for! Why was this happening!? She didn’t want to die, she didn’t want to die!
Susie~!
What?
Was… was that Alice? That voice, saying her name…
With what little strength she had left, Susie opened her eyes, seeing not Joey, not the strange people in masks, but the perfect angel, sent from above. Alice was solid, real, perfect, and smiling right at her as she held out her hand.
Come on, Susie, come with me so we can make you into an angel!
Yes… yes! Susie wanted to be an angel, an angel worthy of being with Alice!
With shaky, bloody fingers, she reached out to grab Alice’s hand, but her strength was gone. All she felt was her fingers brush against Alice’s own, and hearing her beloved gal sigh softly.
Oh dear, were you really not the one?
NO!
No, no, no! Susie was the one for Alice, the only one for her! No one could have Alice, no one! Not Allison, not Joey, not even Henry! Only Susie could have Alice Angel!
Only Susie could be Alice Angel!
With a screech from a voice that should have died moments ago, and with new found energy, Susie launched herself as the cartoon and grabbed her, pulling her close. The ink and blood that coated her seemed to be covering the black and white of the angelic toon as she struggled to escape, the actress’ skin melting like liquid ink all over her perfect form.
Pain erupted for Susie’s head, as if two things were growing from her skull. There was a bright light over her head as she felt Alice fuse with her skin, blood, and ink. Yes, yes, so this is what her mama meant, that she’d find someone who could make her feel so special. It really was Alice all along, she was her special feeling, her true love.
Dreams come true, Susie. Dreams come true.
--
Years of work, of slaughter and stolen hearts, of too many encounters with the Ink Demon and his Dark Puddles had resulted in something close to perfection. A form that was deserving of the title of ‘Alice Angel’.
She smirked as she strolled through the halls of her domain, where she ruled, where the Ink Demon dare not try to stain her walls with his filthy ink. An axe held tight in her grip as she went to check on traps she had set up for rogue Boris clones or mutated Butcher Gang members that wandered her halls, trailing their tainted ink with them.
It didn’t hurt to see if the Projectionist had left any goodies behind, the fool just liked to maim, never really doing much with the prizes inside. Except on rare occasions where he’d take the hearts and hide them away in the Buddy Boris railway shop. Not even the studio’s angel knew why he kept them there, then again, Norman had always been a strange man in life.
‘Alice’ heard struggling coming from a trap, down a hallway that not many really ventured into. Not much there, just a tape of Wally and Thomas’, a Little Miracle Station with a door that never closed right, and a viewing hole to where the Ink Machine could rise and fall into the dark abyss.
It was in this area that ‘Alice’ stumbled upon a sight she never expected. In so many years of wandering these yellowed, rotten floors has a sight like this never appeared, but right before her eyes was a perfect Alice Angel, captured in a simple rope trap.
Flashes in ‘Alice’s’ mind gave her images of a sweet smile, a gentle hand, and harsh words that made her feel like she wasn’t worthy of the angel of the stage. But this was different, this wasn’t a trick, a spell caused by Joey to spare her, to keep her alive, this was the real deal.
Alice was struggling to untie the rope around her ankles when she noticed that she was no longer alone. Large, dark eyes stared into yellowed ones and ‘Alice’ smirked at the look of fear and curiosity of the sweet cherub’s face.
“Look what Heaven left for me, someone to make me feel so special.”
END
--
If you follow my tumblr and/or twitter, you may be aware of the au I have where Alice saves the studio, Henry, and her girlfriend Susie/Malice.
This is a prequel to that.
Thanks for reading! I have another fanfic in the works for this au!
20 notes
·
View notes
Text
That Old Black Magic Ch.8
Find the whole story here:
FF AO3
New to the Where There’s Smoke There’s Fire Universe? Read the first story here! - FF AO3
Killian Jones and Emma Swan didn’t meet under the usual circumstances but they had an immediate spark that ignited into a fiery relationship. Their complimentary life styles create the perfect partnership at both home and work. Can she and Killian keep up their lucky streak while navigating through the dangerous lives they lead? Find out in this Where There’s Smoke There’s Fire Mystery: That old black magic.
In this story two sorority girls have gone missing. Emma is on the case to try to track them down. Along the way she manages to piss off some of the wrong people adding complexity to her case.
Ch. 8
Graham was talking the whole ride to Bachelor Party Arms. She’d have to admit if he asked her about what he’d said, she’d have to admit that she hadn’t been listening to a single thing. She’d been thinking about the threat she’d received from the scots and her poor bug. Nobody messes with her bug. Once she figured out who dared touch her baby she had a special kind of pain in mind for them. It wasn’t until the car stopped moving that she realized they’d arrived. She snapped back to reality and focused on what Humbert was saying.
“Listen, I’m going to take lead on this. You just follow behind and wait for my signal.” said Humbert.
Emma cocked her eyebrow. “Are you expecting trouble from these guys? I thought you said it was a bunch of college kids that lived here?”
Graham shrugged his shoulders. “I never said they were all college kids, just that a bunch of college kids lived here. Look around Emma, this isn’t exactly the safest neighborhood.”
She was suddenly aware of her surroundings. She pursed her lips.” I see.”
“Not to mention, you are female. So you should let me lead.” Said Humbert.
She could feel herself getting annoyed. “I can take care of myself. I don’t need you to protect me. Can we just get this over with please?”
“Fine, have it your way.”
She got out of the car and slammed the door. She forgot he was a sexist pig for a moment. She’d have to make sure to remind herself in the future, even if he was being nice. He was halfway up the walkway by the time she caught up to him. He wasn’t wrong about the smell coming from the building. It was a combination of body odor and hot garbage. What looked like a normal unassuming apartment building on the outside was anything but normal once you stepped inside the beast. The smell outside wasn’t even the half of it, once you entered the threshold it was like walking inside a sticky, smelly sweat sock. The dark blue carpet was a combination of damp and sticky, she could swear she was leaving footprints as she walked. It was just gross. This must be what ants experience when they go into those traps.” Said Emma as she continued down the hall behind him.
He turned to face her. “You hear that? Sounds like there’s a party upstairs. Maybe the 4th floor. That’s usually where the parties will be.”
“I take it you’ve been here before?” asked Emma.
He hesitated.” I may have lived here for a while, you know back when I was in college.”
“Ah, no wonder you know so much about the place.” Her opinion of him just got better and better as she learned more about him.
“It was once home. I know it looks bad now, but it wasn’t this bad back then.” He explained.
She didn’t believe that for a second, but an inside man is helpful. “Ok, I feel better knowing you’re knowledgeable about the place. Is there another way out of here or just that front door?” she asked.
“Yeah, there’s a fire escape staircase down the backside of the building. You can get access to it at the end of the hall on each floor.” Said Graham.
“Ok, Good to know. I’m ready. Lead the way.”
Graham smiled and quickly bolted up the staircase to the next floor. The second floor was brightly lit and had a carpet that was slightly less sticky. She looked down the end of the hall and there was a big window. She could see the fire escape through the window. She could never be too careful. The music was getting louder. She kept moving up the staircase towards the source of the music. The third floor was like the first, sticky and dark. Same big window at the end of the hall.
“It’s just upstairs. I was right, probably the penthouse.” Said Humbert.
“This place has a penthouse?” asked Emma.
“Yes, It’s one of Gold’s properties. He has a penthouse in all of his buildings.” Said Humbert.
“I should have guessed. That man will do anything for a buck.” Said Emma.
“Let’s go see if we can find our guys.” Said Humbert.
She looked down the hall and then back at Humbert. “Hold on. Maybe you should wait here.” Suggested Emma.
He frowned. “What do you mean?”
“You’re a cop. I’m not. Those kids see a cop coming to the door they might get spooked and start running.” Said Emma.
“I see your point. Alright. I’ll give you 15 minutes. Then I’m coming in.”
She smiled.” Deal. It’s just a bunch of kids having a party right? How bad could it be? “
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
As Killian walked up towards Wally’s he noticed Emma’s car off to the side. His blood started to boil again at the thought of those punks threatening her. He walked into the garage door and the chimes went off. “Be right there.” Called a scruffy voice.
Killian looked around the small room. It was dingy and dimly lit. The sounds of banging and machines buzzing could be heard from the other room. Sounded like they were busy.
“Hey, there. Sorry about the wait. What can I do for you?”
Killian turned around to see a round older man, with a balding head and two tufts of white curly hair on the side. “You Wally?” asked Killian.
He laughed.” Nah, I’m Doc. Wally’s been gone for a while now, just kept the name for sentiment. What can I do you for?”
“I’m here to find out about the yellow bug out front.” He said.
“Oh, yeah. Poor girl. Punks out there need to be put in check. It won’t take me long to get the tires changed out. I can have it back later tonight.” Said Doc.
“Yeah, about that. Any chance you rent cars?” asked Killian.
“Uh, yeah. I’ve got one loaner. It’s a the blue Charger, parked by the door.” Said Doc.
He looked out to see the muscle car in the front. “I’d like to rent that from you if you don’t mind.”
Doc scratched his gritty forehead. “Ok, I can do that. You want me to hold onto the bug?”
“Do you think you can keep the car concealed? It might be good to keep her off the streets for a few days.” Explained Killian.
“Okie Dokie. Let’s get you the keys and you can take Old Blue out there.”
“Great, Thanks.” Said Killian.
He hoped that the fact that it was a supped-up muscle car would soften the blow when he told Emma that he’d borrowed it and asked them to hold her car. She had to understand. A yellow bug would stick out like a sore thumb and those punks knew her car. If he couldn’t be with her, he could at least do this.
~~~~~~~~~
Oh, it was bad. She entered the darkened apartment to find half naked college kids, drenched in foam and glitter, dancing all over the place. It was a huge room, probably three times the size of their whole apartment. A DJ was setup at the corner of the room playing loud booming music. The only lights in the room were coming from the huge set of speakers to the right and left of his platform and a big rainbow-colored light ball spinning on the ceiling.
She navigated her way through the sea of bodies looking at the faces she passed trying to find someone coherent to question. Finally, she found a group of kids sitting on funky chairs around a coffee table on the side of the room. As she approached she noticed they weren’t just sitting there, they were taking turns hitting a Hookah. She grabbed an empty red solo cup and pretended to stumble towards an open chair in the circle. One of the boys looked towards her. “Sup Babe? Want a hit?”
She kept her drunken persona up and smiled. “Sup. Anyone seen Al?”
A boy with red hair braided into dred locks spoke out. “Damn, Al always gets the babes.”
The guy holding the hookah pipe slowly blew out smoke. “He’s in the back room with the prince.”
She pretended to stumble again as she stood from the chair. “Thanks.” She said as she walked away. When she was out of sight she dropped her solo cup on the ledge as and moved down the hall towards the back room.
The door was cracked so she peeked in to see what she was dealing with. She scanned the room cautiously looking for danger. The room was virtually quiet in comparison to the wild party happening in the front room. The décor concentrated on purple, gold and black colors. Purple drapes adorned the windows. There were black leather couches around the room with glass and metal end tables between. There was also a very wild pattern of gold, purple and black in the end to end carpet. It was definitely a bachelor pad in her opinion. A brief look around drew her attention to the center of the room. There was a large ornate chandelier over a poker table. There appeared to be a heavy game going on. There was a small group of people sitting around the table and one guy to the side of the game standing behind a small bar making a drink.
“Damn Nav, you win again.” Grumbled one of the guys.
Her ears perked up at the mention of his name. She focused her eyes towards the handsome man collecting the chips. “Must be my lucky day.” He said as stacked the chips in front of him.
This was her guy. She needed to get into this game.
One of the guys at the table stood and pushed in his chair. “This game is too rich for my blood.”
She thought to herself must be my lucky day. She relaxed her body and slowly walked into the room. “Got room for one more?”
All eyes at in the room quickly turned to her and scanned her up and down. The guy from the bar moved forward. “Depends, how’d you get in here?”
“I heard about a hot game from some guys out front. They said to come back to the prince’s room to get in. Are you the prince?” she asked.
His eyebrow raised. “Maybe.” He rubbed his chin. “You got cash?”
She reached into her back pocket and pulled out a hundred dollar bill. “This enough?”
He laughed. ” For openers. This is a serious game girl.”
Naveen looked her up and down. “Come on Al, let her play. I’m happy to take her money.”
So that was Al. Both of them were in the same room. Al looked at her again. “Alright, have a seat.”
Naveen collected the cards from the table and began to shuffle them. He had quite a routine with his shuffle. Sliding the cards back and forth on the table, mixing them up and sliding them side to side in his hand. He turned to her as he kept up the shuffle. “You new around here? I’ve never seen you before.”
“Um, yeah. I just started taking classes over at the University.”
“Aren’t you a little old to be taking classes?” asked the jerk to her right.
She didn’t dignify him with an answer.
Naveen started dealing the cards around the table. She watched him carefully with each card. She noticed Al standing back at the bar where she’d first seen him. She noticed Al watching the cards as closely as she was. The others at the table were talking and drinking. The guy to her left was in the middle of a heavy make out session with the girl on his lap.
These guys had stacks of cash sitting in front of them and they weren’t even watching the cards. Clearly, they were some kind of trust fund babies or making cash in nefarious ways. Either way they didn’t care about the money they were about to lose.
It didn’t take her long to notice that Al and Naveen had a scam going. These other poor suckers didn’t stand a chance. She sat back quietly watching until he completed the deal. “So, What’s your name?” asked Al who suddenly came back to life.
“Ellie.” She said flatly.
“Ellie, can I get you a drink?” he asked?
She picked up her cards and began thinking of combinations. “Um, sure. You got any scotch?” she asked.
“That’s impressive. Neat or on the rocks?” he asked.
“Neat.” She slid the cards she didn’t want across the table. “3 please.”
She watched him deal her the cards. The others around the table began doing the same. She quickly glanced at her watch. Humbert should be coming in any time now. As jumpy as he was, she was surprised he hadn’t shown his face yet. She’d have to stay in the game until Humbert crashed the party.
Al came up behind her with the drink. “Here you go.”
She held up the drink. “Thanks.”
He smiled. “No problem.” He quickly moved back to his position.
She looked at her cards, she had nothing. She wondered if they dealt her these cards to quickly get rid of her. Given that she clearly didn’t have the funds to keep up. She was going to have to bluff if she was staying in this game. Tweedle dee to her left and Tweedled um to her right wouldn’t be an issue but Naveen, since she knew he was cheating, he was going to make things tough. If she could get rid of those two she could handle Al and Naveen on her own. Where the heck was Humbert already? A thought she never believed would cross her mind.
She continued to play and was doing great. She managed to make it through two quick rounds. Tweedle dum dropped out when his girl started to pass out on his lap. She also managed to pretend she was drinking that scotch one sip at a time, all the while spilling it a little as she went to sit it back on the table. No way she was going to drink anything from this petri dish of an apartment.
She focused on the cards, keeping one eye on Naveen. She had one more guy to get rid of and then she could start questioning these two about the missing girls. Naveen was about to deal again when she heard voices coming from the back of the room. “You lads got room for more?”
She felt a sudden rush go through her body. She turned around and there were two young men standing in the back and her fears were warranted. She recognized one of the guys as part of group who watched her bust Seamus.
“Hey, what’s this bitch doing here?” he shouted.
“Whoa whoa whoa. What’s this about?” said Al.
His eyes went wild as he moved towards her. “She’s the one that got Seamus nabbed by the fuzz yesterday. You’re going to pay for that. ”
She stood slowly and backed up from the table.
“Are you a cop?” asked Naveen.
“She ain’t no cop. She’s just some bounty hunter.” Said the other guy.
The slimy jerk pulled out a switch blade. “What’s say we have some fun with this lass?”
Al was quick to react. “Guys, Guys not in here. You know he doesn’t like his room messed up.”
Naveen stood. “Yeah, you don’t want to do this. You know what happened last time.”
“I’ll pay for the cleaning.” Said Switchblade as he continued towards her.
Her adrenaline was pumping. She slipped her hand around her back to grip the handle of her gun. She hated having to pull it but if it came down to them or her, it was her every time.
“What’s going on in here boys?” asked Humbert.
Switchblade quickly stashed his blade back into his pants, slipping to his friend’s side.
“Ah, nothing officer. Just playing a friendly game of poker.” Said Al.
Humbert looked towards her. She raised her eyebrow and glanced back at the scots in the room.
“Doesn’t look so friendly to me. Is everything alright in here miss?” he asked.
She looked around at the men in the room. “Yeah, we were just finished. These guys were too late.” She moved to the table, grabbed her cash and slipped it into her pocket.
Naveen took her lead and did the same, gathering his money. “Yeah, sorry guys. You should leave. We are done for the night.”
Humbert sat back on his heels, thumb in his belt loop as he watched the Scots. Switchblade grit his teeth and turned on his heels as he pulled on his friend’s coat. “Let’s go. We don’t want any trouble.”
Humbert nodded and watched as they left. He turned and missed seeing the jerk sign that he was going to cut her throat as he left. She let out a deep breath and took her hand off her gun. “Where were you?” she asked.
He smiled. “So you did need me?”
She huffed. “Are you serious? You’re going to rub it in now?” She could feel her phone vibrating in her back pocket. She pulled it to see that it was Killian calling. She could swear he always knew when she was in trouble. “Hey.” She answered.
“Love, I just wanted to let you know I had your car taken care of.”
She let out a soft sigh. “Thank you. Listen I’ve got to take care of something. Can I call you back?”
“You don’t sound well, is everything alright?” He asked.
“Yes, I’m alright. I’ll explain when I see you. I’ll call you soon. Bye.”
“Bye.”
“If you’re done checking in can we get started?” teased Humbert.
She rolled her eyes at his comment.
“Are these the guys?”
She slipped her phone back into her pocket. “Yes.”
Naveen held up his hands. “We didn’t do anything.”
“Yeah, what did we do?” asked Al.
“We need to ask you both a few questions about the disappearance of Charlotte and Tiana.” Said Emma.
7 notes
·
View notes
Text
Into The Abyss, part 8
henroy
Felix belongs to @smoresthehalloweenqueen, as does Ink.
More below the cut
It is dark, cold, and wet. Felix would much rather be doing anything but wading around in an ink puddle, trying to find his glasses. But of course that's what he's doing, because why wouldn't this be the perfect time to lose his glasses in a hecking puddle of ink that perfectly matches the color of his glasses?
He sighs and rummages around in the ink. At least I seem to be mostly ink-proof like this. It's still annoying, though.
Lines of ink spread across the walls, first forming intricate patterns and then just becoming small rivers of ink. Felix frowns and steps back a little before continuing to rummage around for his glasses. Stupid glasses getting lost in a stupid puddle of ink. In fact, just stupid ink. Though I do wonder how it's doing that.
Finally finding his glasses, he holds them up triumphantly and inspects them for damage. They seem to be fine, so he wipes the ink off on his shirt (it's probably fine, right?) and puts them back on his face. “That's better. At least now I can see farther than ten feet away.”
There's a thumping noise as something very large realizes that he's there. His eyes widen as the creature comes around the corner and looks right at him.
“Bendy?”
The Bendy tilts his head at Felix, who simply tilts his head back at him in response. They stand like this for a while, a distorted monster and a strange cartoon, until the Bendy makes a rumbling noise and startles Felix, who, in a flash of 'brilliance', dives into a deeper pool of ink in a valiant attempt at hiding.
Just a note, Felix can't swim. At all.
Flailing around, he attempts to not drown in a puddle of ink, and fails, miserably. Instead he just kind of...flops around, slowly drowning and internally screaming at himself for doing something this stupid. That is, until he's abruptly hauled out of the ink and onto land.
He looks up and sees that his savior is the Bendy, who has apparently decided that he's going to keep Felix and is now making a weird purring-like sound. Felix never agreed to this, but as long as he's not being murdered, he's generally fine with it. Though I do wonder what exactly he plans on doing, considering I'm about two times shorter than him and a good deal weaker...wait.
And now he's started worrying. Great. Just wonderful. I really need to stop thinking too much.
As Henry walks the halls of the studio, he notices things. Mostly the fact that it looks like half the studio was swept up in a tsunami of ink. And all the plushies around. He makes a move to grab one, but decides against it and leaves it alone.
His board didn't hold together for too long, breaking apart after he hit a few Searchers with it. So he's weaponless as he wanders around, solving various 'puzzles' and occasionally needing to hit things with chairs. Chairs are surprisingly good weapons, when thrown hard enough. However, they also tend to break when thrown that hard, so maybe it wasn't so good of an idea after all.
Not that Henry cares. At least it gets his anger out and gets the things out of his way. He's not quite ready to die. Nor will he ever be, especially not in this haunted hellhole full of abominations. In fact, it would be great if I just didn't die, period. That'd be fine. Or, well, at least not for a while.
He doesn't notice that he's wandered into a room full of stuffed toys until he crashes into a large Boris plushie. Upon crashing into it, he realizes that he's stumbled into what looks like a plushie death trap, completely with, well, plushie death traps.
The room is covered with shelves upon shelves of plushies, each of various characters. Boris, Alice, Bendy, the Butcher Gang, even a few from that ill-fated merger. Small plushies of various side characters are hung up on the ceiling, surprisingly in okay condition. There's even a few plushies of old studio workers holding something related to their work, probably the ones that were the most memorable, and all of those are in good condition. Henry walks over to the plushies and inspects them. Looks like Shawn's handiwork to me.
The plushies of Grant Cohen and Thomas Conner probably had the most work put into them, with details that Henry himself hadn't noticed about the men when he'd worked with them. (Then again, he hadn't interacted with them much, only seeing Grant when he picked up his paychecks and really not interacting with Thomas at all.) After that, the next most detailed was Norman's, if only because of the projector. Half of the plushie itself is obscured by it. Though half the time Norman was carrying around a projector, so it's not...wrong...
His plushie is holding a pen, and while he admires the fact that Shawn put as much effort as possible into these, he's slightly grumpy that his is shorter. Even if I was one of the shortest workers in the studio, it's still insulting and it's bad enough “Alice” wouldn't stop pointing it out.
Wally's is, of course, holding his ever-iconic broom. However, it is also holding a real set of keys, which Henry manages to wrangle out of its hands without breaking it. He looks at it. “See, this one I just don't understand. Wally almost never held his keys. Half the time they were in a trashcan.”
Predictably, no one answers him, and he moves on to the next plushies, which are of Susie and Allison. They used to be pretty close, until Joey gave the Alice role to Allison. Don't know why, and don't care to know why. Both plushies are holding tiny little Alice plushies and VA mics.
Beside of those two plushies is a Sammy. Even in plushie form, Sammy manages to look grumpy, holding a banjo and frowning as always. The plushie looks like it's one misplaced set of keys away from flying into a rage, which was Sammy's default mode. The man probably had a few screws loose, but he was good at what he did. Too bad he's an ink creature now.
The last one is ripped apart, but it looks like it was of Joey Drew. Most likely, Shawn used (uses?) this one as a way to feel like he's getting back at Joey without doing illegal things.
There's a shuffling noise from one of the other shelves. Henry whirls around, keys raised like he's going to hit someone. (The keys are hilariously dull and won't cut anything even if Henry wants them to, so it's an empty threat.) There's nothing behind him except the shelves of toys, but...I could have sworn that that Boris plushie wasn't there ten minutes ago...and where did that rabbit plush come from?
He walks over to the plushies and pokes them cautiously, half expecting them to attack him. They do not. They don't move. See, they're not alive, he reassures himself. Just your mind playing tricks on you, Henry.
When he turns his back, though, the plushies rearrange themselves again, this time with a muted giggle from the rabbit. Henry turns around again, this time with a chair. “Okay, now I know someone's messing with me. Come out before I hit everything in the room with this chair!”
Nothing.
Not a single thing in the room moves. There's no breathing, no shuffling, and not even a twitch. Henry frowns. “Well?”
Still nothing moves. The silence is stifling, even if there is the noises from the studio now. Henry lowers the chair a little. “I promise not to hit you with the chair, okay? Just come out, please.” Or I think I might go insane, he adds internally.
The shuffling noise comes from behind one of the shelves as a tiny duo of a plush Bendy and Alice peek out. The toy rabbit hops off of the bigger Boris, who stays still but looks directly at Henry. Several other plushies move, though none of them are the studio workers. When all is said and done, there are about fourteen plushies standing in front of him, all staring. (Well, except for the Boris. And the fox plushie, who is the largest of the bunch, is half behind a shelf. But it counts.)
Henry puts the chair down, leans on it, and sighs. “Okay, Joey has a lot to explain, and I'm not keen on asking him after what happened earlier. Mind explaining?”
Meanwhile, the now much-larger army of ink creatures is swarming around the Angel's hideout. Their leader is throwing himself on the door, which is solid steel, and as such not going to be broken by a skinny-ass 'toon throwing himself on the door.
The Angel, of course, is not pleased by this development. “Why are all you rejects banging on my door? Can't you see that a lady needs her beauty sleep?”
“Sleep be damned! Did you kill Felix?” Ink yells, slamming himself on the door again.
“The human is dead?” The Angel asks. Ink simply slams himself on the door again. “How unfortunate. I didn't even get his soul. Have you seen it?”
“No, you bitch, because he's dead! Someone killed him!” Ink says, sitting in front of the door. He's bruised himself from slamming into various objects on purpose, and apparently the steel door has convinced him that it's not going to break. “And I'm asking if it was you!”
“I wish,” the Angel answers. “But no. Most likely it was Joey.”
“Which one?”
“What do you mean, which one?!”
And so begins the most ridiculous argument in the history of the studio.
Meanwhile, Felix is on top of a pipe, trying desperately to reach something above than him. Below him is the Ink Demon, a Swollen Searcher, and two stragglers from the army of Lost Ones, who had been separated from the Mind when they'd been stuck behind some doors.
Needless to say, it was a very strange group.
TL;DR: Felix makes a very tall, dangerous friends, Ink gets angry, and Henry finds living plushies. Also no one dies or gets hurt in this chapter, but don’t get used to it, because next one the army gets very very close...to the wrong person
#story#screws ink and stuffed toys#joey felix drew#ink felix#henry wright#alice#the Plushies#bendy#searchers#lost ones#oh no
7 notes
·
View notes
Text
A Symphony of Nightmares, part 1
This is a fanfiction meant to explore a thoroughly toxic relationship between Sammy Lawrence and Joey Drew. I hope you enjoy.
---
It was December 23rd, and Sammy and Joey were staying at the studio after hours to put together a little workplace Christmas party.
“Thanks for helping me with this,” Joey said as they finished up. “Usually I have Wally help me, but you know you’re always my first choice.”
Sammy blushed. Joey really knew how to make a man feel special. “No problem. It’s probably good damage control for my reputation, y’know, because...”
“Oh, stop bringing that up. Here, I brought you something.” Joey handed Sammy a lovely little present with powder blue and mint green wrapping- Sammy’s favourite colours. Inside of it were many things, the first being a matching green and blue card. The card read,
Dear Sammy,
In the past months since we started dating, you have been proven many things to me. You have proven that you share my artistic mind, as well as some of my more obscure interests. More importantly, you have proven, or at least, almost proven, that you’re someone I can trust with my heart and my vision. You are the perfect person for me, perhaps moreso than anyone I’ve ever met, and I think it’s time that I fully bring you into my life. No more distrust. No more punishments. Fewer rules. Just love. Please meet me at Joey Drew Studios tomorrow and we can discuss how.
-Your loving partner, Joey Drew.
Two keys were taped to the inside of the card, and the box also contained some candy and cocoa, a beautiful notebook with a musical note motif for writing songs, and a small bottle of ink with a note taped to it reading “bring tomorrow.”
“Wow. This is really nice. But, are you going to explain the ink? And the keys?”
“Well-“ In that moment, there was a knock at the door. “Oh, the guests are here!”
“Okay, I guess we can talk later. And then you can open your present.” With that, Sammy gave Joey a peck on the cheek and went to answer the door.
Before long, a few dozen employees had arrived, and were having a jolly good time at the party. Sammy Lawrence was enjoying himself as well, but half of him was concentrated on being good, making sure not to seem too warm to anyone Joey, had made off-limits. The wound in on Sammy’s arm still burned from last night, when Joey had taken a lit match to it as a punishment for making him jealous. On his surface, Joey was a man anyone would want in their lives, always full of inspiration and cheer. Behind closed doors, however, his temper and his fear of losing anyone he found himself attached to led Joey Drew to be... a very intense partner would be one way to put it. Sammy had found that out too late. And he felt addicted to Joey, and all the love and excitement and inspiration he brought into Sammy’s life. But Sammy was also deathly afraid of him.
Considering the ink bottle again, Sammy slipped out to head for his sanctuary. The motions of unlocking it, complicated as they were, were automatic to him by now. Finally alone in the dark, Sammy reflected on how this relationship had come to be.
—-
It had started about seven months ago, when Joey had first asked him out to dinner. They had essentially talked the entire night about their shared passion for the arts. At first, Sammy had thought it was stupid. Sammy couldn’t exactly say so in front of his boss, but Joey didn’t make art- he made stupid kid’s shorts. And even apart from that, Sammy had plenty of bones to pick with Joey as a boss. But as the night wore on, Sammy realized that Joey’s appreciation for art was genuine, and came to respect him a little more. He was pleasant enough when he wasn’t busy being a terrible boss. At Sammy’s door, he’d handed him an unlabelled black book. Sammy still remembered Joey’s exact words: “I want you to borrow this. Check it out a bit. I’ve tried some of the activities in it, and well, they really work! The world is wider than you can imagine Sammy, and I want someone to explore it with. You’re a man of passion. Just promise me you’ll think about it.”
Well, Sammy did look into that tome of Satanic rituals. And he did go to Joey to see them actually work.
It wasn’t too long, maybe two months, before Sammy found himself waiting in an area of town he’d never been to before. It was a poor-looking area, it was getting dark, and he was getting nervous. Joey Drew had always insisted that they meet in a different place every time, for secrecy's sake. Joey had been late that night, and it was spitting rain. Even so, Sammy, normally irritable, was calm. He took another drag on his cigarette, looked over his shoulder for the hundredth time, and propped himself against the brick wall behind him in attempt to look like he belonged in the rough part of town. He was used to this.
Amazing. He, the wimpy, white-collared Sammy Lawrence, was used to waiting around in strange, quiet areas for the opportunity to practice the occult. What Joey had shown him that first night would have converted the most cynical heart. Sammy had never been an atheist, but nor was he especially dedicated to religion- just a churchgoer who seldom thought about the supernatural any time but Sunday mornings. That night, however, he had seen it proven before his eyes that powers beyond his imagination- indeed, beyond the imagination of Christianity or any other religion he knew of, were very real, and very much entwined with the mortal world.
How had that turned into this? Sammy couldn't answer that. Joey had invited him over a second time, let him help with a few rituals performed in his house. Then he lent Sammy a different book so that he could figure out what he wanted to do with his newfound powers. There was no point when his coming over had become an intentional weekly tradition, it just had. And then it came to the point where it wasn't just once a week, but generally multiple evenings that Sammy put into his new hobby. There were supplies to collect, secluded areas to find, and evidence to dispose of. Before he knew it, he was the one suggesting that the two of them go to the woods at night for the first spell involving animal sacrifice that either had ever performed. And beyond that, the candlelit dinners, the sex, the getting drunk and having deep conversations in the woods, the talk as though they were running the studio together- Sammy wondered at when on earth they’d become a couple, and when Joey had become such a big part of his life. Not that Sammy wasn’t enjoying it- Joey might have been a terrible boss, but Sammy was greatly enjoying his personal company.
There were things about Joey that bothered him, though, even then. Six weeks into their relationship, Joey had caught Sammy chatting warmly with Jack in the music room, and had grabbed all but dragged Sammy to his office, holding his wrist tightly enough to leave marks.
“What are you doing, making kissy eyes at the biggest fruit in the studio like that?” Joey had demanded. His fists were curled, and Sammy’s pulse picked up, even though he found the scenario ridiculous.
“I wasn’t making kissy eyes at him. We’re best friends, that’s it,” Sammy halfway snapped. Then, he felt a fist slam into his stomach. His back hit the wall, and Joey held him against it, fist cocked back for a second blow.
“Really?” Joey growled.
“Yes, really! He’s married, I promise,” Sammy cried. Joey let go of him.
“Oh. Okay. Well, I’ll be asking him to make sure, but if you’re telling the truth, I’m sorry. Can we still be partners?”
Sammy hesitated. This is the exact behaviour anyone would tell him to break up with someone over.
A desperate, touchy look fell over Joey’s face. “Keep in mind that it’s all or nothing. I’m not practicing Satanism or lending my books to anyone I can’t trust, one hundred and ten percent.”
“Yeah, let’s stay partners.”
“Good. Maybe we should set some rules so this never happens again.”
“That sounds like a good idea.”
“Okay. Well, how’s about a rule about who you can talk to. Anyone related to you or married is fine, of course, or if they’ve been in a relationship for a while that’s okay. And so are straight men- don’t think you can cheat this rule, though, I always know. And I know you had a thing with Susie Campbell, so I don’t want you talking to single women, either, alright? And especially not Allison Pendle. I can tell she’s a total slut.”
Sammy found the whole thing pretty weird, but he wasn’t at the point of protesting just yet. Satanism meant to much to him. He and Susie weren’t exactly amicable exes anyhow. “Okay. And my rule is that you don’t hit me.”
“Deal,” Joey said, reaching out for a handshake. Sammy returned it firmly. “I love you, alright? I don’t want to hurt you, so keep up your side for me.”
“Right. I love you,” Sammy said, too much hesitation in his voice. “I love you,” he tried again. It was firmer but still didn’t sound quite right.
—-
When had been the next time Joey had hit him? Sammy couldn’t remember. His mind kept traveling back to his first real, hard beating, and that reminded him that he needed to get back to the party and give Wally Franks his present.
Sammy had been storing Wally’s present in his sanctuary all day, which made it pretty convenient now. Hopefully Wally was ready to forgive him. Back in the break room with everyone else around, Sammy tapped Wally on the shoulder while he was talking to Susie.
“Huh? Uh, hey Sammy... What is it...?” Wally’s awkward smile was reminiscent of a cringing puppy who’d been caught red-handed.
“I brought something for you.”
“Thanks.” Wally took the box and lifted its lid. “A chocolate cake. That’s real considerate.”
“Yeah. Remember the time you ate my chocolate cake right out of its box when I left it in my office?” Sammy took care to sound good-natured about that. “You looked so shocked when I walked in on you. We’ve has some pretty funny moments, haven’t we?”
“Ha ha, yeah, ah guess. Look, I don’t wanna offend you but I don’t feel comfortable takin’ this. Sorry for avoiding you, though. I’ll try to stop.”
Sammy’s face fell. “Okay, I get it.”
With that, Wally handed him back the box and walked (a little too fast) back into the crowd.
“Sorry,” Susie said. “He told me that he forgives you, but y’know. He was scared of you even before the... incident... and he’s having trouble being comfortable with you again. If it helps, I want to be friends again. We’ve been broken up for almost a year now, so why keep avoiding each other?”
Because Susie was high on Joey’s list of people he couldn’t talk to. “I’ll think about it, alright Susie?” Sammy said, businesslike, before going to look for Joey. All he could think was how pathetic Wally was. Really, avoiding him like this after one little punch to the face?
—-
It was early November, and Sammy was in his office, attempting to focus on songwriting. If he let his mind stray, it inevitably strayed to the night before, when Joey had beaten him until he bled. And yet, he didn’t feel scared or tearful. Instead, he was furious.
There were no two ways about it, leaving this relationship would be risky on multiple fronts, and Sammy wasn’t sure he could do it. The most obvious was that Joey could- and likely would- fire him. As well, Sammy was enthralled enough with Satanism that he was just about willing to be beaten if it meant he didn’t have to give it up. And, of course, there was the issue that Joey might beat him to a pulp for breaking up- maybe even kill him.
God, Sammy had been so stupid! Why had he thought that it was a good idea to be in a relationship with his boss? Why had he thought he could work the magic of the devil himself without becoming so intoxicated? Why was he allowing himself to be mistreated like this? Why was he such a-
A knock on the door interrupted Sammy’s internal rant. Probably some idiot needing to use the pump switch. Sammy got up and opened the door to see Wally Franks.
“Hey, Mr. Lawrence. You sure look angry.” There was a slightly apologetic tone to Wally’s voice, and Sammy immediately knew what he was there for: some keys to borrow so that could retrace his steps and find his own. Growling, Sammy snatched the keys from his pocket, threw them at Wally, and turned back to his desk.
“...You okay?” Wally asked hesitantly, slowly approaching the angered musician. “That’s a pretty dark-lookin’ bruise you got under your collar there-“
In that moment, Sammy lost all self-control and swung his fist into Wally’s jaw, knocking a tooth out and two others loose. The action shocked Sammy as much as it did Wally.
“Oh my God. Wally, I’m sorry! Can I take you to the infirmary?”
Wally whimpered a no and left Sammy’s office with his proverbial tail between his legs.
Sammy was frozen in shock. He knew he was in trouble, and he supposed he deserved to be. After a couple minutes of waiting for the other shoe to drop, he went back to his sheet music as a distraction. Sammy wasn’t sure how much time had passed before the door opened and Joey took a seat opposite to him. Sammy couldn’t quite look Joey in the eyes.
“So, you hit him,” Joey began, his voice somber. “I’d be a hypocrite to fire you, and I wouldn’t want to do that to my main man, anyways. Here’s what’s going to happen: you’re going to give a public apology to Wally, with me there to mediate. I’ve offered Wally a raise to keep his mouth shut about this to the police. Of course, if this does get out, I’m going to have to let you go for the company’s sake, but until then, I’m going to do everything I can to keep you hired and out of jail. That’s a promise.” Joey gave Sammy a pat on the shoulder, and Sammy winced. “Oops, did I hit a bruise?” Sammy nodded. Joey patted him on the arm instead before leaving.
Once he’d had the time to collect his thoughts, Sammy realized that there was no breaking up with Joey for now- not while this was still fresh in everyone’s memories and he still needed Joey’s protection. But by the time it felt safe to risk making Joey angry, Sammy didn’t want to break up anymore. By then, the beating seemed like an eternity ago, and his most recent memories of Joey were positive. I mean, yes, he did get the occasional punch, burn, or threat, but by then Sammy was used to it. And Sammy had hit Wally- maybe a bit of a temper was just something men of passion like them had. He’d even struck Joey once or twice, and Joey had handled it like a sport. Really, Wally was being such a baby over one punch. Sammy could remember Jack knocking on his door to ask for use of his keys several times in the past couple weeks, and he had no doubt that he was just fetching them for Wally. It was the only time Jack spoke to him now, and he, like a lot of Sammy’s coworkers, had gone cold on him. It had been kind of lonely, especially since a lot of Sammy’s old friends from outside the studio were now off-limits.
At least he had Joey. Maybe they were the only people capable of handling each other.
---
Sammy didn’t even know what Joey wanted from him, so he supposed the best way to figure out if he should agree to it was to go to the little meeting Joey had arranged and to hear him out. So, here he was, at the entrance of Joey Drew Studios with that bottle of ink clutched in his hand. Joey greeted him with a “Merry Christmas Eve!” and a kiss on the lips. They got into the elevator together and Joey sent them down to the very basement.
“So, Sammy. I know our relationship hasn’t exactly been perfect. And I want it to be perfect. I honestly do! I think you’re the perfect partner for me. I don’t want to have to tell you who not to talk to. I don’t want to hurt you. I just didn’t want you to leave me. So, it’s time that I addressed some problems in our relationship. First, I’m sensing that you have some resentment towards me at work, because of the ink machine.”
“Well, yes,” Sammy admitted. “I mean, it's a thorn in everyone’s side and no one knows what it’s for!”
“Well, I don’t want it to inconvenience you. One of the keys I gave you is for the finance manager’s office. You can switch offices with him after Christmas so you won’t have to deal with the pump switch anymore. And I can tell you what the ink machine does if you just make a promise with me.”
“I’m... listening.”
Joey slipped a small bottle of ink that matched Sammy’s out his pocket. “This ink machine could be the next step in our ventures into the occult, Sammy. We should both give ourselves over to it, see what role it chooses for us both. If you can do that with me, well, I’ll be able to trust you entirely. I’ll let you talk to whoever you want, and I’ll never hit you again. In a couple weeks or whenever’s convenient, you could even move in with me. What do you say?”
Sammy had heard the “I’ll never hit you again” line before, but he’d never heard Joey even suggest letting him talk to anyone. “You’ll let me talk to Susie?” Sammy asked.
“Why?” Joey spat, suddenly defensive.
“She forgives me for... you know, Wally. She wants to be friends again. That’s all.”
“Oh, okay. I suppose so.”
Sammy turned the ink bottle in his hands. The long nights they’d spent preparing spells that went horribly wrong, getting drunk, complaining and laughing about the other workers, the sex, the conversations. Was it worth the bad? Especially if it could get better? Sammy uncorked the bottle. “I’ll do it.”
Joey uncorked his bottle. “Thank you. And cheers!”
They clinked their ink bottles and threw them back. For Sammy, it was a bittersweet, salty, viscous liquid that he could barely choke down. For Joey it was as sweet as syrup. Immediately after they were done, Joey showed Sammy to the inside of the ink machine. Suddenly, Sammy wondered if downing the ink was actually symbolic. What would happen to him now? Would it be worth it? Joey loved him. Joey wouldn’t want harm to come to him. He’d have to trust that it was worth it.
---
I get that this one was pretty slow moving. Do you guys want a part two? I could just make it a one-off.
#Bendy and the Ink Machine#a symphony of nightmares#joey x sammy#my fanfiction#joey drew#sammy lawrence#wally franks
22 notes
·
View notes
Text
Reflecting on BATIM: Chapter 5
I don’t really have any theories on Chapter 5, and there’s so much with the fanbase taking sides on this sort of thing that I don’t even want to really talk about them, but I do have a lot of thoughts that I feel like I have to get out of my head. The biggest is that I, like a lot of other people, felt disappointed after the ending. Not that the ending was bad, (Though it is incredibly annoying and insulting that people who like it want to say that people who didn’t “don’t understand or aren’t deep enough,” like they’re uncultured. No, honey, people have complaints for good reasons: You don’t get to invalidate them.) but that the overall chapter felt lacking. Now, I promise I’ll talk about more than just complaints in this--largely I’ll be bouncing off SuperHorrorBro’s own theories--but I have to get that out of my system first:
1.) We received a lot of hype at the end of Chapter Four and from the preview content for all of the new things that would be implemented into Chapter 5: New characters, new environments, new game mechanics, etc. And for all that we got to see... we barely had the time to see any of it!! Maybe it was just too much to fit into the timeslot that they’ve been keeping to with the previous chapters, but I would’ve preferred a longer chapter or even waiting months for another one above barely scraping the surface of the new stuff.
We got Allison Angel and Tom only to see them for that first, long cutscene that took about a fourth (a fifth at least) of the time it took to actually play the chapter, that one fight, and then a little bit at the end. The interactions with them felt rushed, because while Allison was on our side, Tom hated us, and then the next thing we know it’s, “Oh, you hate Sammy too? Here, have an axe. Yeah, bruh, we cool: Nevermind that we left you for dead and I tried to starve you.”
The trailer made it clear how we would be navigating through flooded tunnels and we only got to use the boat once, granted it was a thoroughly horrifying experience.
We get to see where the Lost Ones are living, but just a small, little area that couldn’t even fill a town square. And not even the full square: I’m talking about that park-like area. “Well, it’s a studio, so it can’t be too big.” After several floors dropping into the center of the earth, I think we’re past that. Then, even with that big fight, we’re promised more chances to fight with Tom and Allison only to fall through the ground and have nothing to do with that ever again. I would’ve rather stuck with them and fought to Joey’s office that way it felt earned rather than play chicken with the Butcher Gang in that weird labyrinth of offices. (The labyrinth was bigger than the Lost One area... :,( )
Then Sammy. Oh Sammy, I’ve never even really liked you, but you came out of nowhere after all this time has passed full of hints and Easter eggs in previous chapters to all the fans speculating how you’d be back, and then you’re dead just about as quickly and we learn little to nothing about you.
2.) Ending that previous note with Sammy, I’m going a little further with him. In Chapter 2, the guy tries to sacrifice us (Henry) with the idea that Bendy will set him free if he does, then in Chapter 5...
“Betrayed! Abandoned! I trusted you! I gave you everything and you left me to rot!”
...Buddy, I seem to recall you wanting us dead: You don’t get to blame us for crap! If he was talking about Bendy, that’d be one thing, but then that raises some flags as to why he’s associating us with Bendy. I mean, no one else does and he didn’t at first. If he’s not associating Bendy, then he would have to be talking about Henry if he finally remembered him. And if he’s talking about Henry, then he could only be remembering him from a previous ring-around of the story (more on that later) in which Sammy possibly helped Henry under the idea that he was some kind of savior like Allison thought when she said she thought he “was the hope he’d been waiting for.” Seems unlikely, but that’s the only thing that makes sense to me for the 180 degree turn.
3.) Joey. Joey, Joey, Joey... I’ve been following BATIM with one thing primarily on mind: “If Joey isn’t in trouble, then he is going to be...” Whether it was Joey being the victim of his own, inky sins or it was Henry beating him over the head with a lead pipe, I wanted some kind of retribution. And what do we get? “You’re back already? Have a seat... It’s your fault I’m a terrible person because you didn’t stay, so do you wanna go back to your never ending nightmare?”
Excuse me? Excuse m-Henry’s fault?! That’s worse than Sammy’s complaint card!!! No. No! Joey, you do not get to sit around your house drinking coffee in a robe and bunny slippers, after everything you put everyone through, and blame it on Henry! Like, I realize the potential that none of what happened is even real from the storyboard on the desk and the real vs cartoon worlds, but that just makes it worse!!! And here’s why:
4.) If none of it’s real and it’s just a story, then Joey’s still blaming Henry for all of his own terrible decisions running the company. If Henry’s dead and in some kind of purgatory created by Joey and the Ink Machine, then he’s literally suffering for Joey’s mistakes and getting the blame for them. And if our Henry’s a cartoon creation, then he’s not even the real Henry being blamed for things that Henry didn’t even do in the first place. That one line infuriates me more than anything else that Joey’s done, because it shows that he hasn’t changed at all: He’s still a complete monster!
Now, wrapping up and gearing toward actual analyses/theories, I actually want to bring up the one just released by SuperHorrorBro, as it makes the most sense out of anything else that’s been said. If you haven’t seen it, you can watch it here:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Nf234EJT3Fo
I see some potential for this theory. First off, because we know the Ink Machine does in fact exist after we see it in the final clip, but also because it would make sense for Tom and Allison to fit the more perfected versions of them that exist in cartoon form if they were invited back to the studio after everything had fallen apart. One of my concerns in the past was that, if Allison replaced Susie, then why wasn’t Allison the first “Alice” made from the Ink Machine? Yes, the credits show the order in reverse, but we know the demented Alice is Susie due to her own words:
“Dreams come true, Susie... Dreams come true...”
Anyway, what would make Joey resort to turning to Susie after he had already stabbed her in the back and wouldn’t likely be able to gain her trust beyond simply relying on Susie’s clinging to the part? Well, if Allison and Tom had already left the studio--either because of its financial downfall, dealing with Joey, or from their getting married--then they would’ve dodged a bullet while the experiments were taking place. Tom didn’t trust Joey or like being at the studio, so it’d make sense for him to clear out asap. Women in the 30′s tended not to work if they were married in Allison’s case, and judging from her strong personality, I don’t think she’d put up with Joey long either, especially if he wasn’t paying her enough. As for Wally, I’ve got no idea, but I imagine some similar case for him as well--likely that he was let go (I can’t imagine the nearly broke studio keeping a janitor for long given that the place was always a wreck with the ink machine anyway and it’s was probably one of the “least important jobs” at the place in Joey’s eyes. That, and Wally personally sounded like a clutz.) or changed jobs.
Another thing to consider is the prominence of just Wally’s and Allison’s letters. Not only as people who could’ve potentially ducked out, but also the last few people who Joey had to turn to. Wally had a carefree spirit, and Allison’s also got a nicer, more trusting nature to her as well. Given how we know that Joey is a sweet-talker--though snake is more like it--he could potentially trick them both into coming back at the studio where others who also avoided death would likely hold a greater resentment against him.
Then there’s Tom’s behavior toward Allison: Caring and protective. Like a husband would be toward his wife. While it’s confirmed that many of the people at the studio have lost their memories, others still at least possess fragments of them: From Henry’s writing on the walls, to Susie remembering who she was and saying she knew why Henry was there at the studio, to the unnamed individual who “still remember their name.” Tom also remembers who he was--or at least his name--and possibly might remember Allison as his wife or at least at he loved her. Which is really tragic and dang it, I want more on this!!
Finally, there’s the fact that you can see names on the coffins that are in Chapters 1 and 2: Norman and Grant. If it’s all fake, then it seems unlikely that Joey would’ve storyboarded those coffins specifically for those people and even more unlikely that Henry would know even if he did since there’s no names on them without checking Henry’s own messages. That, and while there’s the parallel with Norman potentially being the projectionist, we have no idea what happened to Grant beyond the fact that it sounded like he was attacked based on his audio log. So how would Henry know who they belonged to? By potentially checking them in a previous run.
I also want to bring up a bit of potential with the storyboards we see in the real world. We assume that Joey drew them, but what if Henry did? I mean, he’s the artist, and we know from Joey that he has stayed long enough before to ask questions. What if, instead of all of the interactions being planned, at some point early on, Henry drew the storyboards as a means of coping through the horrors he faced? Henry might be numb to them now based on his lax take to events, but one means of people dealing with their trauma is often by using art as an outlet. This lets them describe what happened better than words could and also help them cope with it. Henry made have done the same.
There’s one thing that tosses a wrench into this and that’s how Allison comments how different Henry is from everyone else, not only in his potential to save them, but also how he can wade through ink without it “claiming him.” I mean, we assume anyway that he would’ve had to have been born from the ink like the others, but if that’s the case then the theory wouldn’t make as much sense. Still, if he was resurrected in this way, then I do have another idea: If Henry’s one of the last people born from the machine, after all of these tests and trials and experiments, wouldn’t that mean Henry is its most perfect product? He could be more stable than the previous experiments, which would explain why he doesn’t melt into the ink and is able to reform quicker/more often than the others do. Maybe he can’t linger in it for long, but he can survive it for extended periods of time. In the very least, we’ve seen other characters than have been able to travel through the ink, like Sammy and Ink Bendy, so I’d leave it open that as one of the final victims, Henry would have the ability to endure the ink longer than the previous creations.
I can’t think of anything else to say right now, so I guess that about covers it. Thanks for sticking around this long if you did.
EDIT: Nevermind, I’ve got one more thing to say with the multiple runs! The note that what Henry needs is “in the vault” and him later acknowledging that Bendy has to have it. We assume it to be “The End” tape. What this would allude to is that, at some point, the tape was indeed in the vault, but some point in another run, Bendy eventually got his hands on it and would know to retrieve it before Henry could, or otherwise made that weird prison/throne room for himself that somehow doesn’t reset like everything else...
#batim#bendy and the ink machine#horror#indie game#video game#tom#allison#henry#wally franks#chapter 5#sammy#joey drew#Allison angel#Thomas conner#tom boris#boris#henry stein#Allison pendle#susie campbell#alice angel#SuperHorrorBro
2 notes
·
View notes
Text
Daddy Dearest
Spawned by some playful chatting and joking, Mango then wrote some amazing stuff~
Have some cute babies everybody!
“Shit!”
The swear is sharp and short with pained surprise. Henry, whose finger had slipped swapping a fountain pen nib, sticks his bleeding finger into his mouth on reflex to curb the pain. The irony taste makes his face screw up in disgust as he removes the digit to inspect the wound.
The nib cut him surprisingly deep, and it was already ready to spill over again. A single red globule trails down his hand like some sort of morbid ruby ribbon. Off to the infirmary he goes, he guesses.
Nobody even bats an eye as he climbs down the stairs to the music department. He was only the latest in a long line of minor bloodletting injuries people have been getting throughout the studio. A scrape here, a cut there. Seemed to happen almost every other day.
He makes it down to the infirmary quickly, having had many a caffeine crash there (which is probably the reason it exists at all, to be honest) in the past. “ ‘Scuse me, do we have any bandages?” the blond man asks.
“Sorry, we’re fresh out!”
With a quiet “Okay,” Henry leaves the infirmary, trying futility to clean off the blood. His hand is covered in the stuff now. A trail is left behind him as it drips onto the floor. He tries to stop it up with his shirt, and that seems to work, so he leaves it.
Wally lets him borrow a clean rag to wrap his finger with, and he feels bad for staining it.
It all seems fine for several hours until the rag starts soaking through with blood. This can’t be a healthy amount of blood, least of all from a little cut like the one he got. Why doesn't he feel woozy or dizzy? Should he? He hurries his way up to Joey’s office in a frenzy, half panicked.
He bursts into the room unannounced, making Joey jump in surprise from where he sits on the floor. There’s a large circle on the floor surrounded by candles. Henry stares at Joey, who seems to be trying to be innocent. “Joey, i think something's wrong with my hand. I’ve been bleeding literally all day.”
Henry walks over to Joey and kneels down, blood covered hand to the circle. “I think-"
Below the two of them, the circle glows white for a moment and Joey scowls at Henry. “Get out, you ruined the ritual!” the older man practically whined, pushing Henry out like a teen seeking to be alone.
“But my hand--"
“Will be fine, now GO!”
Henry is forced out of the room and the door slammed shut behind him.
One look at his hand, and he notices something odd. He doesn't seem to be bleeding anymore, oddly enough. In fact, cleaning off his finger reveals that the wound itself was gone completely.
“What the hell?...”
Henry stands there for a few moments, stunned, covered in his own blood with no injury to speak of that could have left behind this much. He knows he was bleeding a good amount for at least hours. Why isn’t he experiencing the symptoms of blood loss?
He rubs his clean hand on his face with a groan. He was so behind on work today. He may have to pull an all nighter to get those keyframes finished.
Three days later, rumors abound that Joey Drew had brought his children to work that day. The problem with that is that everyone knows Joey is a single man in his 40s, so unless he’s adopted some, he can’t have children.
Henry yawns, feeling the beginning of a crash starting to nag at him. Nonetheless, he keeps drawing dutifully up until the sound of light, unsure footsteps waddle up to him.
“Daddy?”
Startled, Henry whirls to see what looks like a small child version of Bendy in a too-big bowtie looking up at him curiously with huge (adorable) eyes.
Henry’s exhaustion is quickly replaced with adrenaline fuelled fear. “HwhAT THE FUCK!” he wheezes, falling out of his chair onto the floor. The tiny child Bendy seems to jump at the fall and toddles over to Henry, looking concerned. “You okay?” the toon asks, softly patting Henry’s face.
Despite himself, his heart melts. “Yeah, I’m okay, just… surprised.” he tells the boy softly. Henry sits up, careful not to bowl over the toddler demon. “Now, how did you get here, kiddo?”
“Missah Joe bringed us here! He hadda BIIIG corcle ‘n it sum-sum- bringed us to him.” Bendy explains, a little too excited over demonic sacrifice. “That so?” Henry asks thoughtfully, masking his anger for the sake of Bendy.
“JOSEPH FRANKLIN DREW!!!”
With one kick, the door to the CEO’s office bursts open, almost off of its hinges, and an enraged Henry cradling a small Bendy in one arm stands behind it. His foot is raised in the air, making it clear he was the one responsible.
Joey, comically enough, looks up at Henry with a raised eyebrow as he reads from a newspaper, almost as if expecting something like this. On his desk sits two more toddler-sized toons too small for their clothes, Alice and Boris, interrupted while playing pattycake and staring at the angry human man.
“Yes, Henry?” Joey asks too nonchalantly, as if Henry wouldn't notice cartoon children in plain sight. Henry looks far from amused.
“Mind explaining this?” the animator asks, gesturing towards the children. Joey steeples his fingers in front of his pursed lips.
“What does this look like, Henry?” he asks rhetorically.
“You tell me so I don’t make any damaging assumptions.” Henry says carefully.
Joey’s mouth quirks up as he stands, hands sweeping to the sides. “I brought our characters to life, of course. While they’re… younger than anticipated, it was still a success!”
The animator’s gaze bounces between the children watching him almost expectantly and Joey, who looks all too proud with himself.
“Is that what the circle from the other day was for?”
Joey’s expression freezes as if in realization. “Ah, that would explain it…” the businessman mutters.
With Joey’s inattentiveness, Alice and Boris quickly climb off the desk to latch onto Henry’s legs, faces lighting up with excitement.
“Daddy, you’re here!” Alice bubbles while Boris takes to nuzzling Henry.
Henry can only give Joey a perplexed look, the only thought coming to mind being I’m not ready to be a father.
#Batim#batim au#bendy and the ink machine#bendy and the ink machine au#daddy dearest#mod mango#mook made stories
28 notes
·
View notes
Text
Teach Me Something New
Fandom: Young Justice
Couple: Traught, Dick and Artemis
Word Count: 2,507
Summary: The only way Robin can win his crush's heart is by learning archery. He just needs a teacher.
I wrote this for Valentine’s day and realized that I never posted it on tumblr. Oops.
“You want me to what?” The question fell past Artemis’ lips in slight confusion as she worked on one of her arrows.
“I want you to teach me archery,” Robin repeated his request, bouncing from one foot to the other. She looked up at him, eyebrows scrunching together.
“Why?” She asked. Simple question, really. Why does the boy wonder want her skill?
“It is a skill I don’t have and I want to correct that.” She almost believed him, if it weren’t for the fact that she knew this kid. Robin was her best friend after all, and she could just tell that wasn’t the truth. Not the full truth, anyways.
“Mhm.” She looked at him pointedly, raising an eyebrow. The boy’s shoulders slumped down as he turned his head to the side.
“Fine. I want to impress this girl who goes to my school,” Robin admitted almost shyly causing Artemis to squeal with delight.
“Oooh! You have a crush! That’s adorable, but learning archery just to impress her? Why don’t you just tell her that you like her?” Placing her arrow on the ground next to her, Artemis stood up. Her friend liked someone, she couldn’t help but think that was adorable.
“Trust me, I have tried everything. She just sees me as a little kid.” Eyes downcast as he sighed, upset with the revelation.
“Well, you kinda are, dork.” Artemis gave a smile, ruffling his hair like she always does.
“I am going to be 15 next month!” He snapped, swatting her hand away from his head.
“Wait, seriously? When did you start growing up?” Robin groaned, clearly annoyed and used to those words. Artemis stared at the boy in front of her in shock. How had she not noticed how much he was growing? Hell, he was an inch taller than her. When had that happened?
“Well, it has been slowly happening since the day I was born. That’s how life works, Mis.” She wasn’t sure if he was being sarcastic or not with his snippy response, but she assumes he is pretty exasperated with people treating him like a child.
“Right, sorry. Rob, just tell the girl how you feel. Tomorrow is Valentine’s day, you might be surprised.” Her apology was a bit half-hearted as she focused back on the matter of Robin’s crush. Today was the 13th of February, which meant he could confess his affections just in time for Valentine’s. That would be super cute and romantic.
“I don’t know.” The kid was hesitant, poor guy was so nervous. He must really like this girl, Artemis surmised. A metaphorical light bulb lit up in her head, giving her an idea.
“Why don’t you practise on me? Say to me what you would say to her.” It was a good plan, she had seen it work before. It gave Wally the courage to finally ask Zatanna out, and get a yes in return. It worked with Megan back when she had a crush on Conner. It will definitely work for Robin, the kid was braver than anyone else she knew.
“Alright,” he agreed, looking up to meet her eyes. She couldn’t see his baby blues from behind his mask, but she knew they were there. He reached up, placing a hand on her shoulder and took a deep breath. “I really like you. A lot, actually, and I was wondering if you’d want to go out with me.” His entire face flushed red, even the tips of his ears, as he spoke. So cute, so nervous.
“See how easy that was? Now just go tell her.” Artemis didn’t catch the way Robin’s face fell in defeat. She did, however, see how disappointed he looked. Briefly, she wondered why.
“No, that won’t work. Can we do it my way?” The black haired boy set a look of determination to cover up how upset he was. Artemis gave a nod.
“Alright, fine. I’ll teach you archery. It is just for tomorrow, right?”
“Yeah. A Valentine’s gift of sorts.” Scratching the back of his neck, Robin nodded. Artemis became curious as to what kind of Valentine’s gift/confession the boy was planning. She’d find out later, though, after hounding the teenage vigilante for every little detail of what happened.
“Let’s go then.” Artemis motioned the boy to follow as she lead them to a practise area before walking away. He stood awkwardly where she left him, several feet from the targets, waiting. She came back with a spare bow(she wasn’t just going to let him borrow hers) and regular old arrows. Perfect for learning.
Robin took the bow from Artemis’ offering hand and balanced it lightly in his left hand. He was ambidextrous, so it didn’t matter which hand her shot with. Both were his dominant hand. Artemis watched the teen get used to the feel of the new tool. He drew the string back a couple times, trying to not look so uncomfortable.
“I think I’m ready.” He announced after several minutes of testing. Artemis handed him an arrow and stepped up behind him.
“Grip the bow here,” guiding his left hand to the proper placement, her right hand helped him load the arrow. “Like that. Once have the arrow in place, your right hand will go here.”
Still helping him hold the bow with one hand, her other grabbed his right hand. She maneuvered his fingers around the string and the end of the arrow. Once in the right place, the two drew back in perfect harmony. As though they were one person, they released the arrow and let it fly towards the target. It missed the bullseye by a couple inches.
“That was a good first try. Let’s fix your posture before we go again, though.” Artemis grabbed his waist, gently twisting it, ignoring the small squeak that emitted from her partner. She adjusted his stance, moving one leg back. Facing the other leg towards the target. Rotating his back and shoulders. As soon as she positioned him properly, she resumed her place behind him.
“Try to relax, Robin. You are way too tense.” Her lips whispered into his ear softly. Her left hand was no longer needed to help him hold the bow, so she rested it on his bicep. The muscles underneath her fingers were so stiff. In fact, his entire body was. His back, which pressed up against her front, was so rigid she couldn’t believe he was an acrobat. Aren’t they supposed to be looser? “It’s like you are a rock. Just let go.”
His body relaxed against hers, at her words. She released his bicep, settling for resting her hand on his hip as the tips of his ears flushed a bright red. Once again, she helped him draw back the bow and release the arrow. This time, it hit the center of the target. Together, they shot a few more arrows, moving together in complete sync.
“You are doing great. Why don’t I go get those arrows, and you try it by yourself?” As soon as she stepped away from him, she found herself missing the heat. That, and the way his body felt against her own. Pausing in her walk to the target, Artemis blinked a couple times and shook her head, trying to remove the thought. She grabbed the arrows and returned them to Robin.
Her eyes traced over his form, for posture obviously. No other reason. She certainly wasn’t ogling the way his muscles flexed as he pulled back the string. That was not the case at all, she was just making sure he was doing it properly without her guiding him through it. And, maybe, the way his nose scrunched up in concentration was cute. Okay, it was totally adorable how focused he was. Who was she kidding? She was definitely checking him out. The way he moved, how absorbed he was in what he was doing, it was all so beautiful. She was almost jealous of whoever he was learning her craft for.
Wait, no. Bad Artemis. Shaking her head once again to clear her mind of those thoughts. Sure she always admired Robin. Who didn’t? The kid was younger than everyone else(spare Captain Marvel) and was easily one of the most talented people to exist. But she was not jealous of his crush. That would mean that she liked him in a less than platonic way and that was not okay. Not okay at all.
She watched him for hours, even though it only felt like several minutes. She gave a comment here and a correction there. She was his teacher, after all, she couldn’t just stare at him. Which she wasn’t, to begin with. That would be ridiculous. Eventually, he decided he was good enough for whatever he had planned and thanked her for the lessons. She really didn’t feel like she did any work, but she took it anyways. It felt like the polite thing to do, and she wasn’t entirely paying attention. In fact, she probably couldn’t have left the room faster once he said he was done.
xXx
The next day at school, Artemis made it all the way to lunch without running into Dick and whoever his valentine was. She wasn’t jealous or anything. She really wasn’t. In fact, she was more than a little curious as to who in their school had caught her friend’s attention. He never seemed interested in pursuing a romantic relationship.
She sat outside under her favourite tree, enjoying the chill February air of Gotham while everyone else was inside. Artemis found that she could be outside no matter the weather. Rain, snow, hot, cold. As long as it wasn’t a life-threatening storm, she spent her lunch period beneath the tree.
Her phone buzzed with various valentine’s texts from her friends as she unwrapped her sandwich. Everyone inside the school was probably comparing gifts and bragging about all the expensive things they received. It was the same every year, and every year she avoided all of it. Except for the candy grams. She couldn’t hide from those, they came right into the classroom and handed them out. She always got one from Barbara and one from Dick. No more, no less. This holiday was predictable as always.
Picking apart her sandwich, instead of actually eating it, Artemis sighed. The temperature outside was just cold enough to allow her to see her own breath. She placed her lunch on top of the wrapper and leaned her head against the tree. She closed her eyes for a second, just relaxing. A stream of air passed her cheek and a dull thud snapped her attention back from the peaceful place her mind was headed. She turned her head to the side to see what made the noise.
A couple inches from her nose, an arrow was lodged in the tree. She blinked twice, staring at the object before reaching forward and yanking it out of the bark. Wrapped around the shaft was a piece of paper and a single red rose. A white ribbon was tied around both, holding the note and flower in place. Pulling her lower lip between her teeth, Artemis tugged on the ribbon, releasing the flower. She placed it on her lap and unrolled the piece of paper and began to read.
Artemis,
I have thought long and hard about what I want to write in this letter. For everything I’ve come up with, nothing was right. You are my best friend and I am terrified that what I feel for you will be the end of this amazing relationship we share. If I am lucky, you care for me the way I care for you. If I am not . . . well, sometimes you just have to take the jump without thinking of the fall. You know I am quite good at that.
I have tried many times to get you to become aware of these feelings I cater for you, though I have been unsuccessful every time. I hope that by telling you outright how I feel, there will be no confusion.
I am aware that you will find it difficult to believe me, but I am in love with you. That is right. I, Dick Grayson, am in love with you, Artemis Crock. You make me feel like an ordinary person despite the world telling me that I am not. You keep me grounded while allowing me to fly. You are my best friend and I am glad that you are in my life.
I have never felt like this before. You know me, I am not good at letting people in. I don’t know how to just pour my feelings out for you. I want to tell you exactly how I feel; how you make me feel. I want to find the perfect words to make you realise how important you are and how much I need you. Words that are heartfelt and amazing. When I look at you, the only words that come to mind are the same; I love you.
Dick
Artemis stared in shock at the letter in her hands as tears pooled in her eyes. She was his crush! He was in love with her! She couldn’t believe it. How had she missed the signs? She twirled the rose stem between two fingers as she looked up to see Dick walking up to her. She pulled herself to her feet and met him halfway.
“I shot the arrow from the roof. I may have been learning archery for a little longer than one day.” He pointed to the area of the school where he had come from. He smiled shyly as he pulled out a gift bag with his spare hand.
“I’m the girl you wanted to impress?” She whispered, taking the bag from him and placing it to the side on the ground.
“Yeah. I thought I was being obvious, but. . .” He trailed off, rubbing the back of his neck. “I ran out of ideas on how to tell you and I didn’t know how you were going to respond. I still don’t know how you are going to respond. It’s totally cool if you don’t feel the same, I wou-”
Artemis cut his rambling off, grabbing each side of his school blazer and pulling him into a kiss. He froze for a second before kissing back. His arms snaked around her waist, pulling her body closer as her arms wrapped around his neck. They stayed in each other’s embrace though their lips parted. He gently rested his forehead against hers and smiled, going in for another kiss.
“Does this mean you like me back?” He murmured against her lips.
“I like you back, dork.” She responded, capturing his mouth a third time.
So maybe she was in love with her best friend. It was by far the greatest thing she had ever decided on. He loved her back and she could taste it in the smile on his lips.
#livvywrites#livvysprompts#fanfiction#young justice#traught#dick and artemis#robin and artemis#dick grayson#artemis#archery#lessons#fluff#love confession#love letter#first kiss#valentines day
11 notes
·
View notes
Last Seen Blogs
greedaeye
𝒊'𝒅 𝒘𝒂𝒏𝒕 𝒎𝒚𝒔𝒆𝒍𝒇
iammahaji-blog
I AM
mayor-october
Colmar Crossing
blazingqueen2000
Blazing Emerald
ocean-loaf
into the toast zone