Starry Inky Bendy

Hello! BATIM blogs, like/reblog this post if you wanna interact with me! Canon characters are preferred like Bendy, Alice, Boris, etc. OC’s of them are also good.  

Henry leaned on the door to push it closed. As a distinctive ‘click’ proved the room was sealed, but not locked, he was looking around the office; more idly this time than his first inspection where he’d been trying harder to find something, but despite the half-hearted attempted he suddenly caught sight of the shadow. 

“Wait, what’s…?” Squinting, he tracked the shadow with his eyes and slowly moved around to find just where it was coming from. His reaction to finding out who it was coming from, when he was at the right angle to see the little red cup cartoon now in 3D, was less of a response and more a complete failure to comprehend. “… the hell?” he asked no one, voice suddenly hoarse. 

Henry shook his head, momentarily taking his eyes off the cup as he cleared his thoughts. Suddenly back to watching Cuphead like a hawk, seeming as if the man had realized his mistake as soon as he’d done it, he blindly groped behind him until he took hold of the chair he’d been sitting in. He moved to hold it like a lion tamer but with both hands, its feet pointing at the toon he faced as he moved close to the opposite wall to give the toon and the chair room to fit across the small office. 

since i don’t have a proper promo pic made yet, 

please REBLOG if you’re interested in rping with a sassy, talkative, possibly immortal, multiversal traveler who has a knack on befriending villains! wanna get yourself psychoanalyzed by this self-proclaimed therapist? then azura is the sweetest gal for you! 

independent, fandomless, semi-selective, oc friendly rp blog, at your service! 

“Okay… I get that ya ain’t da Mr Drew that I know and ya came from a portal… but ya kinda lost me afta that… Bendy knows more about portals and magic and stuff than me. He can help ya… I think…”

“Ah…” Joey flinched at the suggestion to call Bendy in. “I’d really rather not involve anyone else if we don’t have to, I’m quite sure I can fix this myself with the right tools. Another person to help would be another unknown variable and I’m afraid that might just make things worse.” 

He paused. 

Joey chose not to comment on how his version of Bendy’s room was not next to his Ink Machine, though the multiple differences were starting to weigh on him in the form of an increasingly creased brow. Deciding there was no use in dawdling thanks tot he wolf’s suggestion, he made to leave the room and actually go find one of those notebooks so he could stop actually progressing.

“You know, you’re not quite what I’d expect Boris to act like. I’m not too surprised, given my own experience with the differences between 2D and 3D, but...” He shrugged, dismissing the original end of that sentence. “Since you have no real idea what I’m talking about anyway, why don’t you tell me about your cartoon or something until I need to ask you something else about reality?”

Joey chose to ignore how that had come out a lot stranger than the phrasing had seemed in his head. Boris probably knew what he meant, or at least could guess close enough, and hopefully the wolf wouldn’t find how he’d said it to be too insulting. He really was just trying to say he was curious but was just trying to be practical, even if he had sounded completely dismissive. 

“Oh.” Joey said, not quite getting the idea of daemons; at least he could answer that his world didn’t have anything like that, to his knowledge. 

“Hybriiid!” Bendy pouted at their interrupting Zeron again. “Just because Joey likes talking over his friends doesn’t mean it’s okay!”

“I’d prefer it if you didn’t keep bringing me into this.” Joey pointed out, though the fact that he wasn’t helping Zeron get a word in was very telling.

“Ah, sorry!” Bendy flashed him an embarrassed grin. 

They both listened to Zeron give more context on his rocky diet. “Oh,” Joey said, “I suppose you could utilize spell components that are edible, though it doesn’t come up much in my own work… I might have to experiment with that; though of course for me it wouldn’t be with magical rocks, it would have to be magical herbs or something instead.“

“Gosh, you really can’t eat those foods because they’re too good for you?” Bendy asked. “That sounds weird, but I guess that’s also how sugar is for humans? You eat a lot of it and it’s just too much even though you definitely need a little bit in your diet! I’m just getting more and more glad I only have to eat ink, that’s a lot to remember just to not starve!”

“No such thing.” Joey scoffed at the idea of things not meant to be understood, though it was clear the words had come out before checking with his brain as he averted his eyes and didn’t push the issue. “Let’s just chock all this up to the fact that emotions are far too complex and language is far too inefficient.” He fell silent in mild surprise as he and Bendy listened to Hybrid’s quotation.

“That was a real keen quote!” Bendy smiled at them.

Joey raised an eyebrow. “First Corinthians, I believe. Let me think, I believe the Book of Deuteronomy is a good example of where, despite being from the same religion and alleged author, it goes far more in the other direction. I’m going to paraphrase, mind you, because we’d be here all day even if I was remembering it word for word.”

Joey cleared his throat. “If your family or friend ‘who is as your own soul’ - that bit’s a quote - seeks any other god for you or for themselves to worship, you should not listen to him but rather you should kill him, throwing the first of many stones until he has been put to death.

“Such is the fickle duality of man, and gods made in their image or that which made man in his own image are surely just as mercurial.”

“Uh…?”

“Mercurial means something prone to quick and random changes, a mercurial mood is equivalent to mood swings. Basically I’m saying that any religious text only supports love and respect and peace if you catch it on a good day, and otherwise there’s a lot of murdering or otherwise sacrificing your loved ones because your religion told you to. And also, well, I agree with what Zeron just said.”

“Well. I learned a new word and you two agreed on a thing, so that’s good!” Bendy let out a quiet, awkward giggle.

“Yeah well… Information still matters…” Hybrid huffs toeing the ground just slightly. “Context helps and all…”

“Yeah!” Zeron nods his head, before frowning for a moment and tilting it. “Though I don’t know about it being too good for us…”

“It’s somewhat like what happens if someone who’s been starved for a long time is suddenly given a lot of food that’s rich and full…” Hybrid considers. “It’s not able to be processed, because the body has gotten used to less…” needs to rebuild. “So it just makes you sick.” and that sounds like they’re talking from experience in a distant kind of way. Before they giggle. “And some humans can’t have any sugar at all… unless it’s already in fruits…” they frown… “Allergies… and all that have been on the increase… Mom believes that it’s because of all the fake stuff they’re putting in food now…” 

Zeron snorts as Hybrid frowns, their brow furrowing. Before the other shakes his head, crosses his arms and rolls his eyes.

“Yeah, it’s ridiculous. Although there are some who manage to make sense of it…” he stops for a moment. “Something about thousands of years, and the fact that the last books are a new order that overtakes the old… blah blah…” he still doesn’t agree with it. “Still nonsense, and events that never happened though.”

“I’m almost entirely sure that’s not how starvation works.“ Joey said. “The reason you get sick is because you did process it, far too much at once. Food that isn’t processed... ahem, goes straight through. With humans, you often want to make them sick to an extent because the alternative outcome is worse; at least, where I’m from. Your world, where humans can all choose to be picky about what they eat...“ He shook his head. ”... I’m rather envious. If I’m understanding you correctly, that is.”

Bendy looked thoughtful. “Do you guys have insulin?” he asked. “That’s a thing that got invented recently for some kinda allergy, right Joey? I definitely remember you mentioning that!”

“Yes, insulin was relatively-recently discovered in our world to cure diabetes; what you’re describing as an inability to eat sugar. I suppose I could have mentioned all that earlier, hm?“ Joey loosely shrugged.

“Does it count as making sense of a book if you’re really just ignoring parts of it?” Bendy asked.

“No.” Joey answered quite definitively. Then, after a moment of hesitation to look rather befuddled, Joey returned to his paperwork. 

He immediately realized the next question was asking him what annoys him, which he tactfully skipped; could he get extra scratch paper, he wondered idly without really being willing to commit to that much writing about his problems with people. The ‘I don’t care’ box was the easy answer for him to the question about believing in fate, and the probably impending war was an easy answer for people’s current worries in the world. Racism had definitely not been solved and Joey paused at it trying to guess what ‘solved’ could possibly entail and how enough worlds had done so to merit it being a question. 

How big a deal is religion, it asked. ‘Genocides based on religious beliefs are only somewhat infrequent’ Joey wrote. Magic and technology could absolutely be combined, he answered with a smirk; an ink machine and the associated wight standing next to him were good examples of that.

“Oh? What’s that?” Bendy asked, noticing Joey’s relatively unsubtle reaction to his writing. 

Joey gently moved his big prying eyes away - along with the rest of the little devil - before he could peer at it, sure that his creation’s answers would just give Elliot a harder time than the man deserved to have to read through, and so Joey wasn’t inclined to let him help.

@bendytheinkstar​

Their arrival is on a glowing pentagram in a room where ink drips down the walls and with screaming. A lot of screaming. And it’s from the one in the uniform and not the other. Said other, a button eyed blond just kind of stares out at the room with a neutral line on his face. Before he eventually shifts, slightly tilting himself away from the screaming officer in order to peer around the room curious as to where they are.

He can’t really tell. 

But he can see the magic in the air, and feel it prickling over his skin. As he shifts his button eyes shine, and slowly an odd smile crosses his face. Slowly, behind him, as he steps out and off the pentagram the officer’s screaming slows down, lowering in volume. There is an awkward moment when it finally fully stops and the sounds that take its place just make the setting more eerie, the consistent dripping of the ink in the background and a distant hum. They seem to be alone for the moment, and the blond eventually moves to investigating the room a bit more, walking around and poking at the more interesting items. Eventually he finds a small demon-shaped doll that lets out a somewhat mournful squeak and picks it up.

It’s not likely to be put back down again, as he curls it close before resuming his investigation. Meanwhile the Officer, still on the Pentagram isn’t quite as willing to explore. Something feels dangerous, and he’s scanning the corners of the room, already watching for danger and… the door appears to be boarded up. But it feels weird, because who would barricade a door like that? What’s out there? Subtly he pulses his energy, broadcasting that he’s there. A small alert because for better or worse, it would be safer to let whatever was out there know that they have guests.

It was dark, except for the scattered candles - well, not all scattered, but randomly placed upright around the room at large and in a ring around the pentagram. It was quiet, except for the typical sounds of a building with far more age than maintenance suffering from visible leaky pipes. The room with the boards over it seemed to be a staircase up, and a skilled enough eye - or whatever was used to sense these things - could tell that the magic went further than was proper. The candles with their flames and the boards over the stairwell door hadn’t been put there naturally, not just lit and boarded with magic but illusions of the objects powerful enough to become essentially real. This place had a mind of its own, which meant it wasn’t a good place to be if you couldn’t work with the magic in question.

The pentagram, the inverted ‘summoning’ sort of a deliberately nonspecific design, seemed faded but almost well-loved: not that there were signs of affection, but what there was were signs of repeated use, not common for this sort of symbol considering drawing another was only marginal effort. The doll was clearly hand-made rather than mass-produced, and stained with two different shades of black; it had evidently been mostly blackened with dye originally and then had the job finished with writing ink. It was hard to tell what it was supposed to be between the design and the wear, and it wasn’t nearly as soft as it looked like it should have been; that had probably been true when it was new, as well, going by the cheap early-1930s materials. 

Featured in the room - other than the pentagram and, discarded doll, and scattered candles - were a wooden chair with a white shoebox resting on it, both not lacking for ink stains of their own, all four walls walls with more than their fair share of ink splattered on, and a second door leading further into the lower level of the building. It had once been boarded up, in a sane man-made way opposite to the door upstairs, but these had been forcibly removed; at least according to the pieces still lying on the floor and the ends still nailed into the frame. The damage looked a lot newer than the nails, but both would have had plenty of time to gather dust if the magic in the air didn’t seem to be preventing that.

It was, essentially, a decades-old pile of magic and questionable decor choices. At least the heavy pipes in the walls didn’t seem to be leaking much at the moment, despite the evidence the stains gave that they did in fact leak. And at least the wood seemed well-preserved for its age, unusually safe to walk on without problems but also harder to break if needed. The magic-laced air, too, was cleaner to breath by years than it should have been - were this place normal.

“Whoa!” Bendy cried, not expecting that but doing his best to just hold on like he was told. He adapted quickly to the odd situation, careful not to make things harder for Clover; he looked over at both of them once the momentary surprise wore off and they all seemed relatively safe, looking frightened but not too badly. “W-well, okay! Being safe and learning more are good, a-and maybe we can find someone to ask for help! Wait, whaddaya mean by ‘not now’? Because you’re gonna be heroes later when we figure out what’s going on?”

“It was more a comment on our past then the future.” Lucky puts a hand on his hip, scowling into the distance where they’d just run from.