#Ascending the Ink Pit

[journeytothewestresearch]

I've heard the idea that Monkey is 7 times immortal thrown around a couple times, but my count has only ever gone up to 4 (the peaches, the pills, the wine, and his daoist studies). How immortal IS Monkey?

(Note 09-07-2024: I am going to edit this for more clarity. It will differ from previously shared versions.)

I count eight categories of immortality.

In place of using “layer” or “level,” I’m choosing to designate his various immortalities as “categories.” This is because a new layer of divine longevity or durability would surely be added for each immortal peach, elixir pill, or cup/jug of heavenly wine consumed. Hence, eating multiple peaches would be one category, eating multiple elixir pills would be one category, and so on and so forth.

There are two sets. The first are achieved before or during the journey:

1) Daoist Longevity Arts - Ch. 2

I discuss the exact methods here.

A photomanipulation by me.

2) Erasing Allotted Lifespan - Ch. 3

[After Monkey is summoned to hell in his sleep and thereafter threatens to beat the Judges of Hell for their mistake] The Ten Kings immediately had the judge in charge of the records bring out his [Sun's] books for examination. The judge, who did not dare tarry, hastened into a side room and brought out five or six books of documents and the ledgers on the tens species of living beings ... He [Monkey] had, therefore, a separate ledger, which Wukong examined himself.  Under the heading "Soul 1350" he found the name Sun Wukong recorded, with the description: "Heaven-born Stone Monkey. Age: three hundred and forty-two years. A good end." Wukong said, "I really don't remember my age. All I want is to erase my name. Bring me a brush." The judge hurriedly fetched the brush and soaked it in heavy ink. Wukong took the ledger on monkeys and crossed out all the names he could find in it. Throwing down the ledger, he said, "That ends the account! That ends the account! Now I'm truly not your subject" (Wu & Yu, 2012, vol. 1, pp. 140-141).

A print from the Japanese children book Son Goku (1939).

3) Immortal Peaches - Ch. 5

[After being appointed the guardian of the Queen Mother of the West's immortal peach groves] The Great Sage ... asked the local spirit, "How many trees are there?" "There are three thousand six hundred," said the local spirit. "In the front are one thousand two hundred trees with little flowers and small fruits. These ripen once every three thousand years, and after one taste of them a man will become an immortal enlightened in the Way, with healthy limbs and a lightweight body. In the middle are one thousand two hundred trees of layered flowers and sweet fruits. They ripen once every six thousand years. If a man eats them, he will ascend to Heaven with the mist and never grow old. At the back are one thousand two hundred trees with fruits of purple veins and pale yellow pits. These ripen once every nine thousand years and, if eaten, will make a man's age equal to that of Heaven and Earth, the sun and the moon..." One day he [Monkey] saw that more than half of the peaches on the branches of the older trees had ripened, and he wanted very much to eat one and sample its novel taste. Closely followed, however, by the local spirit of the garden, the stewards, and the divine attendants of the Equal to Heaven Residence, he found it inconvenient to do so. He therefore devised a plan on the spur of the moment and said to them, "Why don't you all wait for me outside and let me rest a while in this arbor?" The various immortals withdrew accordingly. That Monkey King then took off his cap and robe and climbed up into a big tree. He selected the large peaches that were thoroughly ripened and, plucking many of them, ate to his heart's content right on the branches. Only after he had his fill did he jump down from the tree. Pinning back his cap and donning his robe, he called for his train of followers to return to the residence. After two or three days, he used the same device to steal peaches to gratify himself once again One day the Lady Queen Mother decided to open wide her treasure chamber and to give a banquet for the Grand Festival of Immortal Peaches, which was to be held in the Palace of the Jasper Pool. She ordered the various Immortal Maidens ... to go with their flower baskets to the Garden of Immortal Peaches and pick the fruits for the festival ... [After meeting with the Great Sage's ministers] The local spirit went into the garden with them; they found their way to the arbor but saw no one. Only the cap and the robe were left in the arbor, but there was no person to be seen. The Great Sage, you see, had played for a while and eaten a number of peaches. He had then changed himself into a figure only two inches high and, perching on the branch of a large tree, had fallen asleep under the cover of thick leaves (Wu & Yu, 2012, vol. 1, pp. 161-162).

A new years print found online.

4) Immortal Wine - Ch. 5

Our Great Sage could not make an end of staring at the scene [the heavenly feast set for the Immortal Peach Banquet] when he suddenly felt the overpowering aroma of wine ... standing beside the jars and leaning on the barrels, he abandoned himself to drinking. After feasting for a long, he became thoroughly drunk... [...] [After returning to Flower Fruit Mountain and meeting with his children, he says] "When I was enjoying myself this morning at the Jasper Pool, I saw many jars and jugs in the corridor full of the juices of jade [yuye qiongjiang, 玉液瓊漿; lit: "Jade liquid and jade syrup"], which you have never savored. Let me go back [to heaven] and steal a few bottles to bring down here. Just drink half a cup, and each of you will live longer without growing old" ... He took two large bottles, one under each arm, and carried two more in his hands. Reversing the direction of his cloud, he returned to the monkeys in the cave. They held their own Festival of Immortal Wine [Xianjiu hui, 仙酒會], with each one drinking a few cups" (Wu & Yu, 2012, vol. 1, pp. 165 and 167).

A screenshot from the 1986 Journey to the West TV show.

5) Immortal Elixir - Ch. 5

[After Sun Wukong drunkenly stumbles into Laozi's laboratory in the Tushita Heaven] He found no one but saw fire burning in an oven beside the hearth, and around the oven were five gourds in which finished elixir was stored. "This thing is the greatest treasure of immortals," said the Great Sage happily. "Since old Monkey has understood the Way and comprehended the mystery of the Internal's identity with the External, I have also wanted to produce some golden elixir on my own to benefit people. While I have been too busy at other times even to think about going home to enjoy myself, good fortune has met me at the door today and presented me with this! As long as Laozi is not around, I'll take a few tablets and try the taste of something new." He poured out the contents of all the gourds and ate them like fried beans (Wu & Yu, 2012, vol. 1, p. 166).

A detail from the 1835 Japanese translation of Journey to the West.

6) Ginseng Tree Fruit - Ch. 24

In the mountain there was a Daoist Abbey called the Five Villages Abbey [Wu zhuang guan, 五莊觀]; it was the abode of an immortal whose Daoist style [name] was Master Shenyuan [Shenyuan zi, 鎮元子] and whose nickname was Lord, Equal to Earth [Shi tong jun, 世同君]. There was, moreover, a strange treasure grown in this temple, a spiritual root that was formed just after chaos had been parted and the nebula had been established prior to the division of Heave and Earth. Throughout the four great continents of the world, it could be found in only the Five Villages Abbey in the West Aparagodaniya Continent. This treasure was called grass of the reverted cinnabar [cao huan dan, 草還丹], or the ginseng fruit [renshen guo, 人參果]. It took three thousand years for the plant to bloom, another three thousand years to bear fruit, and still another three thousand years before they ripened. All in all, it would be nearly ten thousand years before they could be eaten, and even after such a long time, there would be only thirty such fruits. The shape of the fruit was exactly that of a newborn infant not yet three days old, complete with the four limbs and the five senses. If a man had the good fortune of even smelling the fruit, he would live for three hundred and sixty years; if he ate one he would reach his forty-seven thousandth year. [After Wukong learns the complicated method of harvesting the fruit] Parting the leaves and branches, he knocked three of the fruits into the sack ... The three of them [Monkey and his brothers] took the fruits and began to enjoy them (Wu & Yu, 2012, vol. 1, pp. 453 and 462-463).

Monkey holding ginseng tree fruit. Image found online.

This previous article talks about the history of this magical fruit.

Sun Wukong is not truly immortal during the journey, just long-lived and hard to kill. Immortality in Ming to Qing-era popular literature means that you can live for a long time but still die if injured badly enough. Think of it like an infinitely long candle being blown out instead of having a chance to burn for centuries or eons. For example, Investiture of the Gods (Fengshen yanyi, 封神演義, c. 1620), a sort of prequel to Journey to the West, is full of immortals killed in battle with heavenly weapons. Some even have their immortality sapped away before dying in one of many celestial traps. The biggest of these traps is the "Ten Thousand Immortal Array" (Wanxian zhen, 萬仙陣), so named because it can apparently kill myriad transcendents.

The second set of immortalities are achieved at the journey’s end once they reach the Buddha’s blessed land. These shouldn’t be lumped together with those acquired before and during the pilgrimage.

7) Divine food and tea - ch. 98

Then Buddha turned to call out: "Ananda and Kasyapa, take the four of them to the space beneath the precious tower. Give them a vegetarian meal first. After the maigre, open our treasure loft for them and select a few scrolls from each of the thirty-five divisions of our three canons, so that they may take them back to the Land of the East as a perpetual token of grace." The two Honored Ones obeyed and took the four pilgrims to the space beneath the tower, where countless rare dainties and exotic treasures were laid out in a seemingly endless spread. Those deities in charge of offerings and sacrifices began to serve a magnificent feast of divine food, tea, and fruit-viands [仙餚、仙茶、仙果] of a hundred flavors completely different from those of the mortal world. After master and disciples had bowed to give thanks to Buddha, they abandoned themselves to enjoyment (Wu & Yu, 2012, vol. 4, p. 349). [...] This time it was Eight Rules who was in luck and Sha Monk who had the advantage, for what the Buddhist Patriarch had provided for their complete enjoyment was nothing less than such viands as could grant them longevity and health and enable them to transform their mortal substance into immortal flesh and bones [... 壽長生，脫胎換骨之饌，儘著他受用。] (Wu & Yu, 2012, vol. 4, p. 350).

While the quote refers directly to Zhu and Sha, Monkey certainly benefits from the meal as well, gaining another category of immortality.

Monkey eating yummy food.

8) Buddhahood - ch. 100

Sun Wukong, when you caused great disturbance at the Celestial Palace, I had to exercise enormous dharma power to have you pressed beneath the Mountain of Five Phases. Fortunately your Heaven-sent calamity came to an end, and you embraced the Buddhist religion. I am pleased even more by the fact that you were devoted to the scourging of evil and the exaltation of good. Throughout your journey you made great merit by smelting the demons and defeating the fiends. For being faithful in the end as you were in the beginning, I hereby give you the grand promotion and appoint you the Buddha Victorious in Strife [Dou zhansheng fo, 鬥戰勝佛] (Wu & Yu, 2012, p. 381).

I'm adding this as another immortality category since as a Buddha, he is now completely free of the wheel of reincarnation.

It’s important to note that the novel ends before Monkey is able to perform any feats as a Buddha. Therefore, making claims about his subsequent abilities is outside of canon.

A lovely drawing of Sun Wukong as a Buddha by the talented @ninjahaku21art.

Source:

Wu, C., & Yu, A. C. (2012). The Journey to the West (Vols. 1-4) (Rev. ed.). Chicago, Illinois: University of Chicago Press.

[plisuu]

happy friday! sending you “you’re welcome to stay, if you want. “ for connor :)

Thank you!!!! Here is some Solas/Connor comfort for your troubles.

wc: 1111 @dadrunkwriting

Solas knocked on the door before opening it, a cold gust of wind meeting his bare skin and seeping through his thin tunic as he stepped into the Inquisitor’s quarters. "Inquisitor?" He called as he ascended the final few stairs, taking a look around. The bed was unmade, pillows scattered across the floor, and the edge of the rug was kicked up, the entire thing askew and chaotic in what was usually a tidy room. He padded further inside. The fire was barely more than embers in the hearth and pens lay scattered, still wet with ink. The candles remained lit, melted nearly down to stubs, but the room's inhabitant was not in sight. Solas thought it unusual as he skirted around the desk—the Inquisitor rarely left his belongings unorganized. The doors of the balcony were open just a crack, snow drifting inside to settle on the furniture, and the elf wondered why they had been left so carelessly ajar. He stepped out into the bitter chill, and at first glance it seemed desolate. Worry began to sink into the pit of Solas' stomach as he peered over the edge of the railing into the dark, letting out a sigh and turning on his heel when he saw it—a large heap of blankets huddled along the wall, hidden behind the stained glass doors.

He crouched down, carefully shifting away layers of wool until he was greeted by Connor's nose, which was red and chaffed from the cold as he gripped the blankets around himself, eyes glassy and red-rimmed from what Solas could only assume had been crying. "Inquisitor," he said carefully, voice soft and low. He conjured a light and reached for the veil to impart a bit of extra warmth into the heavy fabrics that the large man had bundled himself in. "What are you doing out here?" "I could ask the same of you," came the whispered reply as Connor pulled the blankets back over his face, but said no more. Solas sat beside him, ignoring his quickly dampening backside as a layer of snow melted beneath him. They sat in still silence for what could have been minutes or hours, Solas occasionally warming the air around them as he stared into the stars. Eventually, Connor shifted and Solas tentatively reached out, placing a hand on his companion’s shoulder and giving it a gentle squeeze. “Although we could sit here and count the stars until sunrise,” he said softly, “it might do you well to come inside.” Connor gave a short nod in response, slowly rising alongside him. “You’re warm,” the large man mumbled as he laced his stiff fingers through Solas’s offered hand. “I do have the benefit of only sitting in the snow for a fraction of the time you have,” the elf chuckled, leading him back into the room and closing the door behind them, stoking the fire back to life with a wave of his hand. “And I have methods of staying warm. If you’d like, I could teach you—“ “No!” Connor recoiled from Solas’s grip as if he had been burned. The flame of the hearth flickered wildly with his outburst and the lamps around the room burst into light he closed his eyes, hugging himself as he stood in the middle of the mess that was his quarters. Solas remained still—he had learned the hard way that it was best to simply let these kinds of moments pass if he valued either of their safety. “No,” Connor repeated after a few deep breaths. “No, it’s fine. Thank you.” The words were mechanical and practiced, slow and deliberately spoken. Solas’s brows furrowed with concern as he examined Connor without the swathes of blankets around his shoulders as they lay in a forgotten pile on the floor among the pillows. The Inquisitor’s hair was greasy and unkempt, his face was streaked with ink and tear tracks and his usually crisp linen shirt was singed, one sleeve almost fully burned off and blisters beginning to form along the skin of his forearm. Now bathed in light, the signs of damage around the room were obvious—broad dark strokes of soot along the walls where the oil lamps were affixed to the stone, burnt curtains and ruined embroidery, the crumpled papers that lie half-charred and scattered around the desk… Solas frowned as he took in their surroundings and sighed, once again taking Connor’s hand in his to check the severity of the burns there. “May I?” He asked, the glow of healing magic beginning to gather beneath his fingers. Connor didn’t respond, but didn’t move away. Solas nodded at the silent approval, smoothing his hand over the blisters and leaving the ghost of scars over the spray of of freckles. He swept his hand up Connor’s arm, checking him over for any additional injury and giving a satisfied hum when he didn’t find anything else of concern. Connor stared blankly ahead as Solas worked, despondent until slender fingers brushed across his forehead, pushing limp hair aside and out of his eyes before pulling away, and Connor blinked, finally looking down. He seemed surprised, as if he had forgotten Solas was there at all as the mage wiped away a tear that Connor didn’t realize had fallen. “Lethallin,” Solas murmured, glancing down at the smudge of ink and ash that had come away on his fingers. “We should get you cleaned up. Come.” Connor glanced down at his hands and back up to Solas’ retreating figure before following in sullen silence. He fidgeted with the edge of his undamaged sleeve, watching the steam rise from the bath being drawn. “I’m sorry.” The apology was barely audible over the running water. Solas glanced up at him, eyes soft and full of something between sorrow and kindness. “Hush,” he replied. “There is no need to be ashamed, control will come with time. There,” the water stopped, and Solas tested the temperature, wiping the droplets onto his tunic and turning to leave. “That should be adequate.” “Wait—“ He was stopped by a cold hand against his wrist and paused, looking back at Connor with a raised eyebrow. Connor pulled back, eyes flitting nervously around the room, settling on the floor between them. “Don’t… Please stay.” He cleared his throat lightly, still studying the floorboards, a flush of pink spreading across his cheeks. “If you want, of course. I don’t mean to inconvenience you—“ Solas raised a hand to stop him, letting it rest on the man’s tear-stained cheek. “I will stay, if you wish.”

[readwithnox]

arc review: stormbringer by erinn harper

A big thanks to INK & INCENSE PRESS for the ARC! @ink-and-incense

the overview

All right, so I originally reviewed this book back in October of 2022—the now first edition.

As a lover of magic-infused modern settings, this was an urban fantasy of weird pseudo-witches that tipped me straight into a gritty world of fame, fortune, and finding a name for yourself that I couldn’t help but fall for. I loved the introduction of Nikkeah as a cocky main character soaking up the limelight, his relationships with his siblings, his backstory that slowly unfolds alongside his current-day downfall, and his run-in with a certain Halfsleeper who I look forward to seeing more of in book two.

This version is a revamp, which ripped me from the high of finishing book 3, but oh man was it worth it.

So take a quick trip with me into an urban fantasy with a genderqueer main character, friction between casters and non-casters, tournament gladiator sports, and nefarious covens with ulterior motives.

the back cover

The vengeful vibes of Vicious meet the gritty urban flavors of Arcane in this dreampunk take on adult urban fantasy.

NIKKEAH TARANIS is a Stormcasting superstar.

Having ascended to the lofty rank of champion at Spectrum Stadium, Nikkeah enjoys a life of stardom high above his caster kin. The next step in his conquering the annual Invocation tournament, in which two dozen elite casters pit their magic and wit against each other for the chance at ultimate fame and fortune.

In the days before the tournament, Nikkeah’s magic is sabotaged under suspicious circumstances, trapping him in the threads of a dark plot that dismantles his glamorous life and sets him against his beloved city. Armed with little more than his outrage and wild Stormcasting, Nikkeah charges down the road to retribution. But what he discovers at the end may leave him with more questions than answers.

the characters

Nikkeah is an absolutely amazing main character. A genderqueer he/him Mx. icon who shines on the page even brighter than the first edition from his attitude to his gut-wrenching backstory to his empathy for the other characters he runs into along the way.

Micah’s role as mentor and coach was fleshed out so much more and was handled wonderfully as Nikkeah’s counterbalance. Seeing him care so much for his protégé was honestly heartwarming.

Gahera, Nikkeah’s older sister, is a gem, and I will always love her. We love supportive siblings in this house.

Vision. Oh, Vision, my precious Dreamer, I look forward to seeing more of you in the next releases. (Not me fawning over his page time over here or anything.)

The rest of the cast was balanced wonderfully, and while I’ve left out some key names, they absolutely stand out even sharper in my mind than before. I’m excited to see how vividly they’ll stand out on paper as the next volumes trickle out.

the setting

This was the piece that drew me to the book in the first place. I love urban fantasies that stray from the typical vampires, werewolves, and witches narrative. Honestly, dreampunk—as it’s described by the author—is the best name for it, since it weaves between realities in a world that feels like a futuristic take on Legend of Korra.

You have a bustling city; non-casters being Karens over casters using fire magic to cook their food at fancy restaurants; magical steroid usage in sports matches. It’s all got a touch of familiarity to it with distinctively fantasy elements that cause the right amount of friction for an amazing story.

the plot

The story itself deals with the rise and fall of Nikkeah’s fame through the unraveling of unfortunate tournament events and dips into his past, when he started his training to become a Spectrum champion. But that’s only where things start.

Because that also really heaps on that pressure to win, and when some of Nikkeah’s opponents turn out to have drugs in their systems, it seems like a play of desperation at first. Then things start to domino from potential scandal to scandal until much more ends up on the line.

The shift from Nikkeah’s teenaged flashbacks to his championship to the absolute mess of a situation he’s in during the latter portion of the book is a twisting maze of a mansion. Everything from the past to the present and the characters’ connections were well thought out and illustrated masterfully.

the verdict

Stormbringer was incredibly enjoyable. The pace pushed me through a little quicker than I expected, and even though I already expected most of the twists and turns, it was absolutely worth the re-read with polished prose and grittier details about such a wonderfully different urban fantasy I need more of.

Go add this book to your reading list and nab yourself a copy when it re-releases on February 7th, 2024!

Add on Goodreads

Originally posted Jan 2, 2024 on readwithnox.com.

[doctrinxire]

fractal  reflections  of  glittering  champagne  shown  across  the  ballroom,  accompanied  by  the  never-ending  soundtrack  of  societal  posturing  that  wrapped  around  her  in  its  grating  familiarity.  the  night  had  admittedly  been  tame  thus  far,  at  least  in  contrast  to  the  last  few  gatherings  that  had  been  hosted  as  of  late.  yet  as  the  moon  began  its  slow  ascendant  into  the  inked  stained  sky,  she  couldn't  help  the  paranoia  that  had  slowly  been  seeping  into  her  mind  throughout  the  night,  trickling  in  unwanted  until  the  dam  in  her  mind  gave  out.  for  her  own  peace  of  mind  she  had  spent  a  good  portion  of  the  night  lingering  near  @mvgcs,  her  focus  never  once  straying  from  the  werewolf  as  she  analyzed  every  breath,  every  movement,  to  make  sure  the  other  was  managing  through  what  part  of  the  evening  they  were  actually  able  to  attend. her  fixation  only  comes  to  a  halt  as  a  commotion  nearby  catches  her  attention,  only  briefly  glimpsing  platinum  strands  before  the  crowd  swallows  him  whole  again.  “  never  a  dull  moment  with  him,  ”  athena  scoffs,  mockingly  raising  her  glass  in  his  direction  before  sinking  further  into  the  wall  behind  her,  its  shadowy  depths  only  providing  a  small  ounce  of  comfort  in  a  snake  pit  that  even  she  felt  unsettled  in.  “  i'm  sure  we'll  be  getting  a  recap  on  whatever  that  is  about  soon.  ”  the  usual  bite  in  her  words  is  temporarily  softened,  dulled  only  by  her  obligation  to  bring  what  little  comfort  she  can  offer  to  rory. 

[gloop898]

2023 Media Thread - Part 109

The Legend of Zelda: Tears of the Kingdom

Damn!™ I gotta lot to say, so buckle in. From a big picture perspective, the game just nails it. While more iterative than Breath of the Wild and while borrowing heavily from that game, its impressive how imaginative, exciting, and fun it manages to be. The new abilities and gameplay systems lend so much to the combat, traversal, and puzzle-solving.

Returning to the same Hyrule, while maybe less exciting for some, ended up creating a really unique experience. Going to a familiar location only to discover how things had changed, whether big or small, is something I've not experienced to this scale in a video game. Of course, that's not to mention all the completely new stuff, most notably the sky islands and the depths.

The sky islands are less an explorable space and more isolated challenges. How does one navigates and maneuvers from island to island becomes the question. There's definitely fun to be had, but their scope is so much smaller compared to the world's surface and underground.

The depths ask similar questions of navigation and maneuverability but in a much different way. Dangerous foes and gloom covered terrain saps away health. The pitch darkness hides the scale of the world. Pits become bottomless voids of ink. Cliffs reach to unknowable heights. It's such a hostile environment, but that very reason is why it becomes so much fun to adventure in.

The main quest lines are fun, but are a somewhat a mixed bag. The additions or surprises in gameplay are okay at its worst, but its the mixed quality of the writing, characterization, and voice acting that really puts a hamper on things. Engagement really falters when things play out in such expected ways and most of the characters aren't really interesting enough to hold things up either.

There's also a surprising lack of story changes depending on what quests are completed. Some actually interesting developments are revealed through these quest lines, but whether you've completed them or not the ending plays out exactly the same. Which is a huge shame, because the ending is satisfying emotionally and thematically, but really only if you've completed the main quests. I understanding that writing a story is extremely difficult when it needs to match the gameplay expectations that the player forges their own path, thus everything is optional and can be done in any order. But its unfortunate that the level of innovation and experimentation of the gameplay out paces the writing so vastly.

Also, I feel its at least worth mentioning some of the "problematic" or at least less "progressive" elements of the game. The design tropes of Ganondorf and the Gerudo are always questionable from a race perspective. There's a goron or two that's like a step or two away from just being blackface. There's appropriation of indigenous cultures in some of the character, architect, and costume designs. An apparent lack of a queer perspective when it comes to gender and sexuality, with the Gerudo again being a major aspect of this. I don't really have a larger point to make, and while its not exactly surprising, it is a shame that these sour spots exists within the game.

Overall, while a lot of my thoughts here are negative, its less because I didn't like the game and more because I really enjoyed it. The game is so much fun and I stayed up way too late several nights just playing it. Traveling across the landscape. Ascending to grand heights in the sky. Facing the darkness of the depths. Felling horrible monsters with your allies. Fusing together powerful weapons and tools. Engineering goofy contraptions. Its a grand journey forged by your curiosity, wit, and sense of adventure. Save Hyrule. Help her people. Bring the Princess home.

And above all if you complain about the weapon durability: skill issue.

First | Prev | Next

[ask-soul-bendy]

Ascending the Ink Pit pt.1

More like escaping the hellhole, am I right? Jokes aside, this is yet more continuation of The Ink Eater, and now we get into the brunt of actually leaving the god forsaken deathtrap that is Joey Drew’s Studio. Enjoy~

Ascending the Ink Pit pt.1

"So, how do you presume we get through this mess?" Henry asked his smaller companion with his arms crossed, standing before a collapsed section of the ceiling, ink ceaselessly leaking heavily from the hinged broken angle. Bendy simply shrugged as Henry looked at him.

"Why do you expect me to be the thinker?"

"Well you've been here for years, I figure you'd know the layout of this place like the back of your hand."

"You'd think, wouldn't ya? Sorry, Henry, but honestly I've never been down here before you arrived."

"Really?" Henry's expression turned from expectant to puzzled.

"Yup. Haven't you noticed? The design of most everything down here is a little different from upstairs; it all was constructed post-haste, just for you~"

Henry stared at the ink demon with wonder, not sure how to feel about the statement. "... Uh, okay then. But then shouldn't you know where everything is then?"

Bendy shrugged again, going into a somewhat snarky pose. "I wasn't down here long enough to memorize everything. But come on, Henry, you've got an axe! You know what to do with it when a bunch of wood's in your way!" He started skipping from one foot to the other almost dance-like in encouragement, grinning widely. The spontaneous motions made Henry curious, before he turned his view to the wreckage, and decided to try his luck with smashing the debris to pieces. His main concern with clearing a way through what was broken was if he wouldn't just make the predicament worse, or worse yet, he could rattle the damage and cause it to collapse on top of him; only luck would have it at that point if he was able to avoid any severe injuries or not. He tried to ignore the ink dripping upon his head and arms as he thwacked the woodwork, having to compensate for the cramped space by crouching and swinging the axe in a relatively awkward arc. But it got the job done soon enough, and save for the precarious splintered edge, there now was a hole to scuttle through. "See? You did it, Henry!" Bendy gave a congratulatory jazzhands. "And you were doubtin' me~"

Henry rolled his eyes at the enthusiasm before carefully crawling through the hole, just glad that his concerns didn't happen this time. "Ah shut up, ya smart alec." He smirked though as he pushed a barrel out of the way, and stood easily, patting his clothes down. The amount of ink stains on him reminded him just how long he'd been down here, or at least too long for sure; a number of hours was too sketchy to guesstimate. It could even be days at this point for all he knew. Bendy followed him through the hole and looked around at the ink covered room before them, frowning when he recalled what had happened here... He shook his head to rid the ink eater from his mind, pervasive as it was, he was beginning to hate the damn thing and its terms. "Bendy, you alright?" Henry inquired, noticing the troubled gestures from the little ink demon as he gazed down at him.

"Yeah, just... Trying to forget the events of these last couple of floors." Bendy waved a hand dismissively, before pacing onward, his mind sidetracking to when he chased Henry around in this room. He couldn't help but smirk mischievously at the memory, it was quite fun, especially since Henry reacted just the way he anticipated. Henry on the other hand felt a bit disgruntled recalling the same event. How Bendy was tearing after him was probably the most freaked out he'd been thus far, he could practically still see the images of when he glanced back at the homicidal demon, how murderous he looked... Though when he looked down at Bendy now, the little imp seemed like he could do hardly more than prank you to your nerve's breaking point. His monster form definitely wasn't one to take lightly, but hopefully there no longer was a need for Bendy to reform to it. "You doin' alright in this darkness, Henry?" Bendy asked, breaking the human from his train of thought.

"Oh uh, yeah. My eyes are used to it by now. But now that you mention it, was it always this dark down here?" He rubbed his head in wonder as he looked around the dank and dreary environment, focusing back on any little hazards in their path. "I could have sworn it was more lit up coming down."

"You're not wrong." Henry looked down at him again, locking eyes with Bendy. "All the light coming from spontaneous locations, some where it kinda shouldn't have been. Don'tcha remember Alice? She was providing all that illumination for you, and we kept getting in each other's way."

"... What do you mean by that?"

"She was the one helping you escape me for the first couple of encounters, when I was eager to play havoc on you. And I had to compensate for her meddling to keep my plans going. As time went on, I became more accustomed to toying with you, letting you escape on purpose. Though, if you'd slipped up and died early, it only meant that we couldn't play anymore." He shrugged, though it disturbed Henry a fair bit. So Bendy really was going off of the instincts of a sadistic predator; he wasn't giving the pursuits his all, and he could have easily been killed at any time... "I'm a demon, Henry, I can't see how you couldn't have figured that I wouldn't hold myself back if there was no benefit for me to do so..." Bendy's grin turned a tad sinister, before he shifted to a light-hearted pose, spreading his arms out with a joyous smile. "But that's in the past, I'm your pally pal now, Henry! I won't try to kill ya anymore, promise~"

Henry only made a perturbed expression at the little ink demon, baffled at how easily he could swing between strict facades. Bendy shrugged the look off and carried on, while Henry stood for a moment in thought before following so as not to lose him. Ironically, the studio seemed a little smaller when they didn't have to commit time to puzzles and backtracking for things, though the black ink that was bleeding through almost every single crevice made the feeling somewhat claustrophobic, and the suffocating darkness wasn't helping either. Henry had his axe and a powerful ink demon for a companion, yet he still didn't feel much safer. The only instances that allowed him to let up the unease was Bendy offering his iconic enthusiasm, though every now and then along the trek, he could hear faint music reverberating off the walls. And he figured Bendy could hear it too, since he'd start nodding his head slightly when the music came up. Henry wasn't sure to take the music as a good thing or a bad thing; he wasn't sure just how the dancing demon reacted to it. Either way, it probably meant that they were getting closer to the above floors, the silence and periodic music only disrupted by the sound of Henry's axe clearing paths through fallen ceilings and whatnot. Henry also noted the lack of enemies, or maybe Bendy was leading the way around them for the most part, or maybe they simply weren't concerned with him anymore, or maybe Bendy's presence was keeping them at bay.

Whatever the case, the studio had a hold on his fear like a leech, and only now when his business with Bendy was done with was he allowed to make his way out. He'd completely forgotten what the outside air felt like anymore, but before he could start reveling in the artificial sensual fabrication, he had to focus on getting to his destination. Bendy led the way through the corridors, occasionally seeing shadowy figures slinking through the halls. They seemed to be avoiding detection from Henry, but Bendy knew who they were... It didn't stop Henry from feeling like he was being watched in the most unsettling way possible. All he could do was try to suppress it and keep up with Bendy, he had some fraction of comfort with the little imp after all.

"... H e n r y..." A whispered voice that didn't belong to Bendy suddenly sounded, causing Henry to pause and look back, subconsciously shivering from the ghastly sound.

"... D'you hear that, Bendy?" He scanned around as Bendy hummed in wonder to him. "Something called my name just now..."

"Could be ghosts, Henry~" The little devil smirked in amusement at him.

"Ghosts...? Well, I guess if demons exist, it could be ghosts." He slightly chuckled trying to settle his unease.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Bendy quirked a brow line at the human, though his tone was rhetorical. "There's nothin' that's gonna bother us, Henry. Come on, we're getting close to the next floor up. Finally." He waved a hand beckoningly as he continued on, although he was amused at Henry's perception of the phantoms going around. Henry went along with Bendy, growing a little nervous with the thought that spirits may be calling him now. He glanced behind them frequently, and when he looked forward, Bendy out of nowhere jumped at him with a mischievous cry. "Henry!" This caused the human to yelp and fall back, grunting while the imp sat on his chest with a snarky grin, then going into cruel laughter. Bendy held his stomach with glee as Henry covered his face with an exasperated growl.

"Bendyyyyy... Why do you do this to me...?" He wasn't sure to scowl or smirk at the shenanigans; it was in Bendy's nature to do these things, but hadn't he had enough with the jumpscares, for pity's sake? Bendy only laughed deeply with small tears in his eyes, cracking his eyes open to glimpse Henry's expression, which was sternly concealing amusement, but that only made the demon laugh more, flopping back with a hand to his head. Henry bent his legs up for Bendy, smirking more at the light-hearted sound of the laughter. Admittedly it lifted some of the tension of the atmosphere, while his heartbeat slowly calmed down again. "... You are such a little punk, you know that?"

"Hahahahahahah! Sorry, Henry, I couldn't resist~" He giggled, his expression turning sheepish as he calmed down.

"I know you can't, but that's why you were loved." Henry laid his hands over his chest as he gazed at Bendy like he was a mere child having fun. Morbid fun, but still.

"Eheh..." Bendy looked back at Henry with a look of both curiosity and reminiscence, before glancing to the side. "Yeah, the good ol' days... But hey, entertainment still exists just like back then, we just gotta make it popular again." He raised his hands encouragingly with an optimistic smile.

"Teh, good luck with that tall order, buddy. People have changed since thirty years ago, and evoking joy out of a collective audience isn't as easy as it used to be with old time shticks."

"Right. So then we'll find current time shticks and mix some of the old time stuff with them, that'll work, right?"

"Aah, maybe. Some people do still enjoy vintage entertainment after all. We might get lucky and lure in enough of them if'n we bring enough good stuff to the table."

"Oh you can be sure I'll keep an eye out for the best stuff~" Bendy winked before hopping off of Henry's abdomen, allowing the man to pull himself back up to his feet, ink now caking his back, but he didn't really care anymore. He did notice that while spending time with Bendy that the ink demon wasn't always so bloodthirsty, and he did enjoy harmless fun when he wasn't hellbent on destroying something. It was a nice image for the little dancing devil; hard to imagine that he came from Henry's imagination once upon a time, with no trace of actual black-heartedness. But that was only what he knew of...

"Also, Bendy, the only way I recall up is through a two-story vertical chute. How do we get back up to the 3rd basement floor?"

"Hmm... I have an idea." Bendy smirked mysteriously, which made Henry quirk a brow at him, before trekking onward. Henry followed him wondering what he had planned, looking around along the way seeing all the puzzle components he went through. Now that they were all done with, they were kind of fun in retrospect, save for Bendy being the only real one out for his blood the whole time, but other than that threat, this journey would be quite the interesting story for future generations of his. "Alright, we're here." Bendy announced, looking up through the shaft that connected to the above floor. "Now let's see if I remember how to do this." He spoke to himself as he went to the corners where puddles of ink rested and scooped up some of it like it was mud, and plopped it down under the chute, before starting to draw lines around himself with the black liquid. It turned out he was creating another pentagram.

Henry watched quietly, becoming curious how this pentagram had some different symbols and runes than what he typically saw of them, also that it didn't seem to be upside down from Bendy's facing direction. Maybe they really did work differently depending on how they were drawn. "... So, you're-"

"Shh..." Bendy hissed, stopping Henry from breaking his concentration. The runes weren't the easiest to recite, and he didn't need a question interrupting his focus and making him mess up. Henry decided to hold his tongue until the demon was finished, crossing his arms and twirling the axe in idle. When the pentagram was done, Bendy moved to spread the ink pile out some, and uttered some alchemic word before starting to pull a pair of stalks out of the ink. They seemed to be made of the stuff as a prong connected them the more they were pulled up. Henry then realized that the prongs were a ladder that Bendy was pulling up from what he could only assume to be Hell magic out of the pentagram, dropping his arms and moving closer to look up the chute as the ladder rose higher to the other end. "Henry, could you step off the linework...?" Bendy warned, pausing his pulling of the ladder, as it'd become shaky and unstable in his hands.

"Oh uh, sorry." He stepped off the rim of the symbol, seeing that his footprint had scuffed the runes slightly, but thankfully they still worked.

"I don't think you'd wanna know how peeved I'd be if you smeared this pentagram and caused this ladder to collapse."

"Sorry, sorry." Henry slanted his brows back while holding his hands up, not meaning to upset the little devil. "I'll wait till you're done."

"Thanks." He responded curtly and resumed pulling the ladder from the symbol, soon reaching it up to the top of the chute. He then stood and faced Henry. "Now it's done. Come on, up we go. It'll stay together as long as I'm touching it."

"Um, you first." He gave a vague smirk, feeling like Bendy was still slightly annoyed with him accidentally scuffing the pentagram.

"Me first? What, are you afraid that I'd deliberately let go just to collapse all this ink on you?" Bendy tilted his head at Henry's somewhat accusatory expression. "... Fine, as you wish." He shrugged and started climbing the ladder, soon followed by the slightly skeptical human. Henry was a bit surprised that the ink ladder was able to support him, though a few of the step prongs did bend at his weight, likely from the runes being made imperfect, which unsettled him, but they both got to the top. Bendy held onto a prong to let Henry get up, and let go once the ladder was no longer needed, watching the ink making it up collapse like a waterfall with a resonating splatter from below. Henry watched as well, before following Bendy through the rest of the way up the floors of the studio.

Shortly after the two left though, some shadowy figures climbed their way out of the shaft with little sound and slinked along after the pair. They were humanoid, and seemed to be made of black ink and some hazy substance, moving in fluid blurs with luminescent red eyes, and following the faint echo of music. However, when the four ventured into a larger room from the hall, the leading figure looked to the side seeing a strange large shape on the floor, pausing the pack to observe it almost curiously. The mass was the ink eater, though its eye was laying against the body, the legs pulled in with only the blue claws sticking out, and the tails wrapped around the body. It appeared to be asleep, though of course it didn't breathe or shift otherwise, but being near the creature seemed to unsettle the four phantoms, as they glanced to each other for a moment. Not wanting to rile the demon, the four resumed their following of Bendy and Henry with quiet movement, soon catching up to the two and kept out of sight for the most part.

[demonsheyd500025]

Ascending the Ink Pit p.2

"Bendy, you sure there's no food in this place?" Henry whined as his stomach did, glancing around the rooms the two were wandering around through. The current large room they were in, he recalled with a grimace, was where Bendy seemed to really amp up the danger, seeing a surprising amount of cogs and gears and mechanisms, large and small, all slick and dripping with ink. They all seemed to be moving smoothly, if in a ticking motion like clockwork.

"None that you'll want to eat anyway." Bendy replied, making sure to guide Henry through some traps that were still armed. "I mean all that's really around anymore is that bacon soup. Unless you've... Collected it all, shall we say?" He sent an incredulous look back at the human, still curious as to what he was doing with the cans.

"Uh... Yeah, I collected them all, let's go with that." He waved a hand with a sheepish smirk, hoping the subject would drop sometime soon.

Bendy gave him an unconvinced look, frowning. "I know you're lying, Henry... But it's a moot point I guess, so I'll stop asking." He shrugged, looking forward. Ahead of them, the ink seemed to be moving in a manner akin to a sentient creature. A rather large sentient creature. Henry was a bit uneasy that Bendy could see through his lies, but was a slight bit relieved for the subject of the soup cans being dropped. His relief faded when he noticed the moving mass of ink ahead of them, knowing what it was with a shudder. Even now he was confused on its existence in the workshop, how the place could support it. Getting closer, the creature turned out to be somewhat like a giant, very thick tendril with a long, scooped mouth piece. Though looking at the monstrosity again, Henry considered this thing to be closely as disturbing as the ink eater, while Bendy hardly seemed to acknowledge it. The creature let out a deep garbled growl as the mandibles turned to them; it didn't seem to have eyes, but it somehow knew where the two were. Its growling vibrated through the walls as viscous ink dripped freely from its large grotesque body (if it can be called a body), and Henry just couldn't stand to be near the thing. He instinctually turned to run away from it in primal fear, making Bendy look after him with surprise. "Henry, where ya going!?" The little demon ran after the man, which caused the tendril monster to growl dangerously at them, though it didn't give chase.

Bendy seemed to scowl at the fear he was feeling from Henry, chasing him through a different corridor which led away from where they needed to go to get out of this place. Henry didn't respond as he ran, hoping to never have to see that thing again. He didn't care where he was going, as long as it was away from the nightmarish creature. Bendy frowned and sank into the ink, only to jump up in front of Henry and crash into him to stop him. Henry yelped at the sudden impact and toppled over onto the little devil. "Mmph!" Bendy cried as he was smothered by Henry's torso. Henry grunted at the fall, panting at the energy he wasted running from the creature. He shuffled off of Bendy as he felt the demon struggling with his weight. "Gah..." Bendy rubbed his head as he leered at the human, who backed up against a wall with a disgruntled air. "Why'd you run? Are you really that scared of that thing?"

"What do you think, Bendy!? I wasn't exactly prancing away from it with glee!" He retorted at Bendy, getting a slightly irritated snort in response.

"You're done with this place, Henry. That monster's no threat to you now, especially with me around."

"Well how am I supposed to know that? Not to mention that it was a mighty big threat before I was done with this place. Scars like that can't just be eased, Bendy."

"That was the point!" He snapped back, getting a confused and nervous look from Henry. "Have you already forgotten that I initially intended to have you killed? Scaring the hell out of you was just par for the course, Henry, it was only by the last time you called back to me that I changed my mind..." Bendy growled lowly at the man. "Feeling your fear was so exhilarating for me, that's why I let you get away. If I was solely after you for the sake of being bloodthirsty, I wouldn't have let you get even this far. That monster was made to terrify you right alongside me. It's not like the ink eater, which I have no idea where it came from, but at least we know where that tendril monster's origins lie." Henry watched the little imp rave at him with a dumbstruck expression, having yet to stand while Bendy was standing in a rather familiarly imposing posture. He flinched a bit when the irritated devil paced towards him and gripped his collar. "Now get up. If you wanna really get away from that monster for good, we have to keep going the way you deviated us from." Bendy scowled in a demanding manner, causing Henry to shakily get to his feet. He'd partially forgotten how much Bendy spiked his fear since being with the little ink demon while he wasn't out for his blood, but he proceeded to go back the way he ran, hoping the tendril monster was gone.

When they came back to the spacious room where the large grotesque creature once was, it was now gone, only a large pool of ink left where it was. Henry let out an unnerved breath seeing the pool of ink, surrounded by fractured floorboards and some other debris, and he followed Bendy back to the halls that would lead to the above floors. "... Is uh... Is Boris still around?" Henry asked, trying to distract himself from the tendril monster.

"He's probably upstairs with the ink machine. Why?"

"Well I uh, just... Haven't seen him for a while..."

"And you want to?"

"Well... I mean, he wasn't... He didn't usually cause me nearly as much grief as you did..."

"And why do you think that is...?" Bendy's voice turned shady, making Henry look at him distantly.

"... Um... To leave me for you?"

"That's one reason. He was just meant to keep an eye on you, and make sure the puzzles were consistent and sequential."

"... So then, he was always on your side..."

"He's my friend, of course he was. You made us to be inseparable by those old cartoons, and the demonic influence only cemented our bond..."

"Wait, does that mean he's a demon too? I don't think I made him as sinister as you, even by the impish sense."

"No, he's not a demon. He is a creature of ink, but I'm the only true devil here."

"Hmm... Alright then." Henry concluded, before looking around the halls they were traveling through. He could feel something following them from behind, prompting him to look back only to find nothing but darkness and ink. He really missed the smell of fresh air after spending what could only be presumed as days in this suffocating hellhole, and the feeling of being followed didn't help his nerves. No one in their 50's should ever have to live through this kind of nightmare. But regardless, getting out of it was definitely better than going into it. Henry watched the ceiling as he heard quiet movement, frowning when it brought back memories of hearing that sound indicative that Bendy was nearby. Now, he knew it wasn't Bendy, but possibly those phantoms that said demon mentioned earlier. Why were they following the two?

Bendy just continued to lead the way through the expansive floor and all the seemingly out of place machinery, all the traps that Henry dodged, granted there were only a few of those, but Bendy wasn't surprised that a few of his traps were missed. Humans could be pretty crafty in situations like these, and he had no doubt that Henry's caution helped with deciding what was safe and what wasn't. He glanced up hearing the movement as well, but paid it no further heed other than assuming the phantoms were following them to the distant sound of music coming from the above floor. But like the other floors, it was much faster getting through this one when puzzles were no longer a hindrance, and soon enough the two made it to the lift that went up to the music department. "We're getting closer, Henry."

"Finally. But... This thing fell when I came down. How do we get back up it?" Henry opened the door into the elevator shaft, seeing the lift tangled with its own tether lines, utterly useless. The ladder on the outside of the shaft was damaged as well, so climbing wasn't an option either.

"Well, you're not too chicken of the searchers, are ya?" The ink demon crossed his arms with a mischievous look, making Henry frown at what he was thinking.

"As long as they're not trying to kill me..." He watched Bendy in wonder, before wincing as the imp gave an eerie whistle to the ink-layered corridors. He felt weird with that sound, and couldn't tell why, before Bendy ushered him into the lift room.

"They won't kill you so long as you don't kick 'em in the face." Bendy smirked some, watching ink start to pool into the room in a large amount, giving way to a horde of grotesque searchers. The ink demon then grabbed onto Henry and jumped onto the backs of a couple of the creatures, keeping balance as they started conjoining into a pile of moving, vaguely humanoid ink that proceeded to climb up the wall. Henry wore a shocked look at the event, subconsciously holding onto Bendy to keep from falling off the growing mass of searchers. He didn't fully trust in his own footing, since he was standing on slippery moving ink that didn't provide the largest of surface area, though he was surprised at the ink of the searchers being solid enough to support the weight of both himself and Bendy. The gurgled moaning and hissing sounds of the searchers was half of their disturbing demeanor, the other half being that they looked to be melting and deformed, of course not hard to understand why since they were made of ink. But as the amalgamated pile of searchers grew higher up the elevator shaft, the mass started to sway from the weight, making both Bendy and Henry press against the wall.

"You sure these things won't fall over?" Henry asked uneasily, not wanting to think of what would happen if they dropped from this height.

"Well they're stuck against the wall, so we should be okay..." He looked down at the wall of searcher limbs, secretly hoping they wouldn't fall over as the mass climbed up the wall, with not much of a base to hold it steady as the weight built up along with them. A mass of searchers was definitely useful, but not as much if they weren't conglomerated properly. The searchers held together until they got close to the top of the shaft, but the weight had gotten to be too much for the mass to stay upright and it collapsed. Bendy jumped onto the floor easily, but Henry wasn't so agile, having only caught the edge and he could only hope his arms wouldn't slip.

"Bendy!" He cried, struggling not to fall with his feet trying to grip onto the wall and using the axe to help pull himself up as well, sticking the blade into the floorboards for extra leverage. Bendy looked back at him with a spark of concern and moved to help him up, pulling his arms and shirt with a growl. The sound of cascading ink and distressed vocals echoed from down the shaft as the searchers collapsed under the weight of the tower, ink flooding the lower level with a vacuum gust blowing upward. The wind slightly helped Henry clamber up onto the floor, who grunted and panted on his hands and knees, his heart pounding in fear that he could have fallen several stories if not for Bendy's help. Said ink demon sat with a huff, watching the man recover and calm down, noting that Henry still somehow had a hold of the axe. He must have had a death grip on the thing, being as he clung to it like a lifeline.

"You alright?" Bendy asked, getting a nod from the human.

"Yeah... My chest hurts now though." Henry rubbed his chest at the sharp pain from the hard edge of the shaft pressing into his ribcage. "I can't wait to get out of this god forsaken deathtrap..." He groaned, missing the dark sneer that Bendy shot, before moving to stand.

"Well like I said, we're almost there now, Henry." Bendy looked up at the human for a moment, before turning to exit the lift room, swinging the door open. The room was familiar to Henry, the one he'd first encountered Boris the wolf after escaping from Bendy. The soup can the wolf had kicked out still rested against the wall where it had rolled to, right between two large shelves against the wall. The two paced through the room past a couple of barrels and into the room where Henry had been saved by the door cutting off the demon's reach to him. The door was still barricaded by a plank lock, and Bendy turned his distracted attention to the shelves stock full of little Bendy plushes, seeing some laying over while the rest sat upright. They were so adorable, which put an almost dignified grin on the devil's face; he knew he had his charm from the olden days, and he was quite proud of it. He then looked back at Henry, becoming curious when he was just studying the door almost thoughtfully, before the human motioned to jiggle the knob. He was then met with a reminiscent gaze from the man, being offered a smirk that said, "remember this?" Bendy blinked in wonder, before the sound of the jiggling doorknob brought back the memory of when Henry had kept his attention for a few more seconds after their little game of Tag by enacting a form of reaching back to him. He inclined his head with a small smirk and paced closer, only to knock on the door three times. "... Is that what you were waiting for?"

"Can't say I wasn't hoping you'd keep that in mind." He admitted before moving to remove the plank from its locking position.

"Why'd you assume that I would?" Bendy watched him gaze out into the ink layered hall on the other side of the door, just staring for a moment.

"... Well... In spite of what you'd become back then, and you were trying to kill me, you were still my muse, Bendy... I was hoping that by reaching back to you in whatever ways I could, I could possibly... Get you to remember me..."

"Teh, I always knew exactly who you were, Henry. I just wanted your soul." The little devil paced past the human's legs into the hallway, followed by the man's uneasy gaze. "I knew how devoted to us you were, how passionate you felt with us because we were indeed your muses. But being as I'm a demon, it was bound to happen that I would aspire to new goals and develop new ambitions. Even if your vision of me was much more tame. Give something its own life and soul, and it's going to act in kind..."

Henry watched him pace down the hall, still able to see the image of the demon in his larger form running towards him poised to kill. He jumped a bit when he heard sudden whispered noises behind him and looked back, seeing nothing still, but having the ever present strange feeling that he was being followed. "Hey, wait up, Bendy!" He turned and ran after the demon who'd already turned the corner; they couldn't even continue without the human's axe since the ceiling had collapsed upon Bendy jumping out of the ink in the adjacent room.

"Well there's kind of little choice for me to do otherwise." Unless he was feeling particularly impish a la sinking into the ink and leaving the man behind. But seeing as he could now leave this place without falling apart thanks to Henry's soul, he was more inclined to help Henry out with only a few spontaneous pranks peppered about. "Alright, Henry, you know what to do."

"Why do I have to do everything?" Henry gave the ink demon a withered leer. "I'm tired from this whole thing as it is, can't you give me a break for once?"

"Nope~ You gotta keep your strength up, buddy~" Bendy grinned derisively at him, holding his hands behind his back.

"... Why do I get the feeling that, low key, you're still very much vindictive with me?" He frowned, but proceeded to clear the wreckage of the fallen ceiling and debris.

"Maybe because I've yet to forgive you." The imp crossed his arms watching the man go at it, bending to the side when a stray chopped plank inexplicably flung back at him, feeling the wind blow by his head. He snickered in amusement, loving the erratic physics sometimes. "That one was on a mission~"

"What?" Henry looked back, seeing the broken plank settle upon the floor behind Bendy. "Did that almost hit you?"

"No, it went right through me." He still grinned, causing Henry to roll his eyes and resume hacking the debris away.

"Your sarcasm is as palpable as the ink, I swear." He couldn't help but smirk as he heard Bendy chortle at the comment, glad to know that he and Bendy had some similar sense of humor after all. He hardly noticed anymore the ink that showered upon his back; these clothes were definitely going in the bin when he got home, and he was gonna take a nice hot shower lasting a whole hour to get all this ink off of him. But while he was chopping away, he suddenly paused when he thought back to what Bendy had said only minutes ago. 'I always knew exactly who you were, Henry. I just wanted your soul.' His... Soul? Bendy tilted his head at Henry's pause, wondering why he stopped. "Uh... Bendy, what did you mean when you mentioned my soul?"

The demon blinked, but didn't seem too taken aback. "Mmm... Oh, whoops! Did I let that slip out?" He snickered, slapping a hand to his head realizing his own blunder. "Whelp~ My bad~"

"Your bad? What did you do?" Henry turned a glare back at him, to which the imp shrugged. "All I remembered before waking up from us sleeping was being trapped in a glowing pentagram and you talking in some unknown language before I passed out again."

"You're still alive, ain't ya? Aren't you grateful for that?" Bendy crossed his arms again, looking a bit shady.

"Well, yes, but my soul is a precious thing to me. Did you not expect me to panic when I have an inkling of what the underworld tends to deal in with peoples' souls?"

"I know you panic, but why are you getting so worked up about it? If you had such an acute inkling, heh, then you should have figured at some point why I was hunting you down all the while."

"I thought it was just in grudging cold blood, I never figured you'd have actual ties to Hell itself." He slumped his shoulders, becoming more disgruntled now knowing that Bendy was much more potent than he thought.

"Well you learn something new by the minute. And keep hacking away, we're not getting anywhere by you just sitting there with ink dripping all over you." He clapped his hands in an ushering manner, only getting a withering look from Henry for a moment, before the man sighed and turned back to continue clearing the wreckage. He supposed that he should have figured at some point, as Bendy said, that the possibility of involving his very soul in this whole thing was bound to become a factor. Of course, true demons were Hell spawn, it was pretty much their shtick to either torture the souls of the damned or use them as currency. Or in this case, use the soul as an anchor to survive outside of Hell. Which then got him wondering why Bendy was the one to be summoned from the underworld. Did he exist in the form he donned now, or did he have a different persona in Hell? He knew he'd made Bendy as a demon in the cartoons, but as Bendy mentioned earlier, his interpretation of him was much more tame and innocent, but now the demon was, well... A true omnipotent and very dangerous devil. But he still had traits of his lighter being. Unfortunately, that only made Henry realize that such qualities made for a creature he really had to be careful with; what if Bendy had a finicky temper, how did he behave when he was angry, what was prone to earning a grudge from him, what was he willing to withhold patience for, and what exactly did it take to get on his good side? He hoped the answers weren't hard to find, or too consequential. He didn't want to take an ink demon out of this place, only to subsequently let said demon wreak havoc once they were out of this studio. He still cared for the imp in spite of all he'd done, but now he hoped he could keep Bendy on a strong enough leash so as not to make his own life a living hell...

Bendy had taken to playing with some ink idly while Henry bore a hole through the collapsed ceiling, and soon enough the job was done. He looked up and noted that the human seemed to be in deep thought, moving to follow him through the hole into the hall leading to the room in which Sammy had tried to sacrifice the man to him. Stepping foot on the other side of the debris allowed for the two to hear some movement within the walls reminiscent of Bendy's stalking through the pipes. Henry glanced around almost skittishly while Bendy seemed to focus his eyes at a particular spot, knowing what was the source of the shuffling, though he disregarded it and continued onward. Henry's nerves were slightly alleviated when he heard the sloshing noise of his feet wade through the small depression in the floor filled with ink, a familiar noise he took an odd comfort in while going through the studio. They both looked around the room as they emerged from the hall, but a noise from the hall made them look back, Henry stepping back when a humanoid figure pulled itself from the pool of ink with an unsettling growl. It looked to be around 7 or 8ft tall and radiated a vaporous aura while dripping with ink, uncomfortably reminding Henry of Bendy's daunting visage. Henry could swear he was seeing the ink demon from before all over again as the phantom drew closer, stepping backward while Bendy stood in place completely unfazed. The phantom growled lowly as it stopped before Bendy and knelt obediently. "My lord..." It spoke in a dark inhuman voice, but surprisingly clear, and a bit familiar to Henry.

"Well heya, Sammy~ Was that you and the others following us?" Bendy questioned, resting his fists upon his hips, getting a nod from the ink creature. "Well then, I suggest you thank Henry there, since he powered up the machine to bring you all back to life~" He smirked incredulously pointing a thumb back at Henry, referring to the last machine before the ink eater got the human. The phantom looked up at Henry with a tilt of its head, naturally intimidating the man with its glowing red eyes. Henry looked quite unnerved and surprised hearing Bendy call this creature Sammy; did that mean that this was the same Sammy that said demon had killed first? Bendy sure seemed more welcoming than before, but Sammy's gaze made Henry increasingly anxious, and being in this room was not helping.

"... How ironic, Henry... I was expecting you to succumb to the ink at some point, but here you stand, graced with my lord's mercy after all..." He reached a clawed hand out to the man. "Don't you now feel privileged bearing such a blessing? How wonderful his acceptance is?"

"Uh... Y-Yeah, sure..." Henry gave a vague smirk, hoping he wouldn't say anything Sammy might find even minutely insulting. "You're uh... You're looking good yourself, Sammy..." He slanted his brows back, hoping a compliment, as shallow as it was, would help keep the dangerous looking phantom satisfied. Sammy only slacked his arm back against the floor with a distant leer, but Bendy's expression was pretty rich at the worshiper's words. He rolled his eyes with his head turned away from Sammy, an expression of exasperation that proved amusing to Henry.

"Anyway, Sammy, would ya happen to know if Boris is nearby?"

"I'm afraid I don't, my lord. But I can look for him if that is what you wish."

Bendy nodded. "I do wish that. Go find him and tell him I'll be coming up shortly with Henry."

"Yes, my lord." Sammy bowed with a clawed hand to his chest, and easily sank into the floorboards as a puddle of ink. The vaporous aura of his body vanished, and Bendy looked back at Henry with a smirk.

"Well, come on, Henry, we get to meet up with Boris again!" He skipped by the human almost happily, getting an incredulous look from Henry, before the man moved to follow him. The only thing that stopped the two from continuing on was the locked door leading to the music department, but it was an easy solution to Bendy. The ink demon simply morphed a finger into the shape of a key and used it as the correct key to unlock the door beside where Henry was tied up to the beam. He completely ignored the pentagram as he opened the door, as well as the surprised look from Henry that he was so versatile with mere ink. The man shook his head and paced along, starting to wonder what he was going to do to get out of here. Was he really going to take Bendy with him? He didn't seem to have much of a choice, especially if Bendy had anything to say about it, but what about Boris, and even Sammy and the other three phantoms? Would they want to be free from the studio as well? Could they leave the studio? He'd mused earlier that Bendy could leave with half of his soul keeping the demon's inky body stable, but that probably meant that the other ink creatures were still bound to this place lest they fall apart. Or, maybe the phantoms had a better chance, but he knew very little of how it worked if they needed something more to keep them together or not. He decided to ask Bendy about it, he'd probably know.

"Hey, Bendy."

"Hm?"

"If you can now leave the studio, do you think the others can too? Or will they still be stuck here without something to keep them stable?"

Bendy blinked at the notion, holding a hand to his chin in thought. The question was valid; Boris wouldn't be able to leave since he had no power source strong enough to keep him alive outside of the studio. He wasn't a demon, so he doubted a soul would help much. Or, maybe it would, but it could have vastly different effects than Bendy had. "Hmm..." He didn't want to leave his friend here though, but perhaps he could have the phantoms stay with him at least, and he could visit him now and then. It wasn't the most satisfying outcome, but there weren't many other options that heralded much better. "They'll probably have to stay here. I mean, this place has been our home for decades, albeit a pretty dreary and decrepit home, but it's familiar."

"Boris and Sammy and the others could protect it from anyone who might try to vandalize it. God knows some punks would be all too tempted to waltz on in and start 'fixing' the place up with even more decrepidness." He frowned thinking of how disrespectful people could be nowadays, even to a simple abandoned place that once was a nice location.

"True. So I guess that'll be a duty for them to uphold. And we can visit them now and then." Bendy smiled hopefully. The two soon came out of the winding corridor into the familiar music department, the view of ink splotches around the billboard making Henry anticipate searchers to spring up poised to attack, but nothing came. Most everything was ignored as the two trekked along the relatively small floor-plan, except for the one Bendy cutout that stood against a wall next to a shelf, a pentagram drawn behind it. Bendy studied it for a moment with slight curiosity, as Henry did, before they moved on to wade through the ink-flooded hall. Henry had also glanced at the large pentagram etched into a recess in the wall before said cutout, even still getting the willies at the sight of it. It seemed to radiate some passive power that Henry could swear was familiar in some manner... The same kind of pentagram had appeared in some other spots along his descent into the studio, but he could never place what their purpose was... In any case, they no longer mattered. Bendy had taken to splashing around in the ink akin to a child playing around in a pool of water, getting Henry's curiosity as ink was splashed around. He shielded himself a few times as the little imp seemed to be having fun, his giggles reverberating off the walls and for once he looked as innocent as he was so many years ago.

Soon they came back to the room in which a pentagram on the floor had thrown Henry for a loop, showing him a few inconspicuous visions before knocking him out for who knew how long. Bendy had to pace around it being as it was actually a ward spell to keep demons away, and Henry wasn't about to see if it would do the same thing to him again. The path further up was blocked by yet another cave-in of the ceiling that ceaselessly dripped ink through all the debris, and which Henry sighed at the expectant look of the smaller dancing demon. He got to work hacking the woodwork away, going about it more effectively from all the other instances of blockades he'd had to bore through. This time though, the wreckage wasn't as sturdy as the other times, and while Henry could squeeze through, his clothing had snagged on the splintered edges of broken planks and slipped supports out of place, leading to the debris collapsing on top of Bendy. The demon yelped at the sudden collapse being trapped under the heavy debris, broken planks pinning him down, though he wasn't in pain, rather more exasperated than anything. Henry recoiled some at the wreckage so as not to get hurt himself, before moving to try and dig Bendy out. "Bendy! You alright? I'm trying to get you out of there, just hold tight, alright?" He grimaced with concern, which leaked to Bendy and made the demon still in wonder. He still cared for him. Bendy decided to humor the man and let him effort to rescue him from the wreckage.

"Well hurry up, would ya? Splintered wood ain't exactly comfortable when it's jabbing into me."

"I'm trying." Henry huffed pushing the boards aside, soon revealing Bendy's black and white crescent-shaped head, giving the human a guileless expression.

"Heya, big guy~" He smirked almost in amusement.

Henry just slouched with a small smirk back. "You alright?"

"I'm fine, but like I said, this ain't exactly comfortable."

'Teh, of course he's fine, he's made of ink.' Henry remembered, but regardless, he continued to get the debris off of Bendy, being careful so as not to cause another collapse. Soon the wreckage was clear and the little imp pulled himself from the woodwork, before he patted the man's back as a sort of thanks.

"Good man, Henry, thanks for helpin' me out."

"What, did you not expect me to help?" He gave Bendy a curious look before standing. Bendy gave him an equally curious gaze in return. He indeed didn't fully expect the man to bother helping, thinking he'd figure that since he was an ink demon, the wreckage wouldn't hurt him anyway. "It's called compassion and curtsy. You're welcome, bud..." That caused Bendy to blink at him with his smirk faltering, the so called compassion piquing his curiosity more, as well as his confusion. And the address he'd just used, "bud". He figured it was a shortening of buddy, but why was Henry using such friendly words? To him? To a demon who'd been intent on killing him and greedily taking his soul so as to roam the surface free...? He then smirked again with a bemused scoff, Henry really must have been so forgiving, but in this case it was borderline naive.

"Yeah yeah, let's just keep moving, old man." Bendy paced past Henry, getting a snort in response as Henry followed. The way to the next location to get to the next floor up was uneventful and short, just past a spiral of stairs, and into a room baring a barricaded door next to a large shelf, and a chute in the ceiling, one that was tantalizingly right before the exit. And, Henry swore he was hearing things when a muffled tune echoed from above, the same tune he'd heard at the start of this adventure. It filled him with hope, they were so close, it would be the cruelest of cruels if Bendy did anything to set them back now. If said demon did think of any pranks at this moment, he'd be wearing quite the vile expression, but thankfully his gaze was relatively relaxed as he pondered with which path to take to the ground floor. Henry had his eyes fixed up the chute yearning for freedom, while Bendy thought of how to get that dresser out of the way. He'd have to shift into his monster form to move it aside himself, and frankly it wasn't the most demanding of tasks for that, especially since he'd just go right back to his toon form afterwards. He snapped his fingers with an idea, which got Henry's attention, and paced out into the hall. "Hey, guys~ Wally, Susie, Norman~ Come out here for a moment, would ya, please~?" He called with a slight echo of his voice, before going back into the room. The surroundings groaned and shifted with movement, as though Bendy knew the phantoms were nearby the two the whole time, and indeed they were when the ink splotches in the room came to life. Henry moved back with a disgruntled air as one phantom rose from the splotch directly under the chute where he was standing, and like Sammy, they all were 7 or 8ft tall with the same glowing red eyes, dangerous claws, and vaporous aura exuding from their inky bodies.

Henry found that he had to put some distance between himself and the phantoms since their aura made him feel strange, his vision was darkening and sound was becoming uncomfortably acute to his ears while he felt a bit faint and short of breath, almost like what happened when Bendy drew too close back before the demon was quelled. "Yes, my lord?" The phantom closest to Henry spoke with a female voice, kneeling with the other two.

"Would you all be so kind as to move that dresser out of the way? We're trying to get to the ground floor, see." He replied with a smile, prompting the three to nod and move to haul the large dresser aside. Henry hurried out of the way when where he stood was too close to the suffocating aura of the phantoms, and watched them work together to stand the dresser upright and drag it away from the bundle of chairs holding the door shut. It was no surprise that they were strong, baring quite the athletic bodies, and their size was a great asset too. They also got the chairs out of the way, tossing them aside haphazardly with loud clattering. "Thanks, guys! I think that'll be all for now. But meet us upstairs, I wanna talk to everyone before we go." Bendy waved a hand, making the phantoms bow to him and sink into the floorboards.

"Boy, you really do have everything wrapped around your finger here, don't you?" Henry rubbed his neck at how easily Bendy could command the ink creatures here, even ones he'd never seen before.

"Well I am the ink demon, Henry~ Of course I have sovereign to this place." He grinned with a snarky shrug, and went to open the door. It had a bit of snag since being jammed shut for so long, but the little imp's strength was easily enough to jerk it open with a creak of the hinges. The noise reminded Henry just how old this place was, and he followed Bendy through to a stairwell. The stairwell was almost unsurprisingly painted with black ink mostly dried from some attack that Bendy must have done a while ago unto the other staff. It got Henry a bit curious of just how long ago this all might have happened, though Bendy hadn't mentioned a thing about what he did to the other team in any stretch of time. Maybe he needed to be asked, but what if he'd rather not answer? He decided to hold his tongue as he noted the lack of ink staining the stairwell at the turn-about, and glanced up seeing a leaking pipe with a noticeable break in the surface. It must have been where Bendy sprung an ambush on some staff going down the stairs. "And we're back~" Bendy stated opening the door to reveal the oh-so familiar ground floor into the large projector room, complete with ink flooded everywhere still dripping in copious amounts all over the place.

"This place has been burned into my brain; I'll never not be reminded of all this ink and the monsters till the end of my days." Henry griped almost comically with a slouch, making Bendy cackle in amusement.

"Aw, sorry, buddy~ But ya gotta admit, this was definitely the best experience of anyone's life!" He threw his hands in the air happily, grinning widely.

"Best being the most interesting to put it mildly maybe, with extra sugar on top." Henry grumbled, giving the little demon a shrewd expression. Bendy just giggled and turned to take off to the ink machine room, prompting the human to pace after him with a longing glance to the exit door. He frowned a bit wondering how he was going to get over that large trap door in the way, hoping Bendy would help in some manner. His eyes looked forward when he heard excited chatter further ahead, figuring Bendy had greeted his wolf friend, and continued on crossing his arms, soon enough coming into the ink machine room. It was a bit hard to hear the two over the loud workings of the machine that still streamed ink from the large nozzle-like orifice, while his appearance drew the attention of the two toons.

"Henry! You're still alive!" Boris exclaimed joyously as he went to hug the human like a happy dog, lifting Henry off the floor effortlessly. Needless to say Henry nervously yelped a bit at the sudden show of... Affection? He most certainly wasn't expecting to get a hug of all interactions from the friend of Bendy, especially since Bendy had mentioned that Boris was on his side, which meant that the wolf wouldn't be apposed to Henry succumbing to any form of harm, and presumably death either.

"Uh... H-Heya, Boris!" He smirked in a disgruntled manner, stumbling back some when he was released, obviously having been completely taken off guard by what he thought was a being just as malevolent as the rest of them.

"I'm so happy you're still around, buddy!" The wolf clasped his hands together, almost looking genuinely relieved at Henry's continued existence.

"Y-Yeah, me too." The man rubbed his head to help ease himself into a more light-hearted state of mind, slowly figuring that Boris really didn't mean any harm this time, probably because of Bendy. But he couldn't help but still be wary, these cartoons were made to be of the sort that didn't maintain virtue for long after all. "Uh, what do you guys say we get out of this loud room and somewhere I can hear ya better?" He pointed a thumb back towards the projector room.

"Oh, well sure thing, Henry!" Boris agreed, still happily, and the three went back to the quieter area of the workshop, albeit Boris and Bendy looked more to be dancing along the way, which made Henry smirk a bit at their friendship, watching the two prance ahead chortling. They almost seemed even more friends than the cartoon made them out to be. Henry supposed it was due to them being alive now, with their own souls and personalities. Which subsequently made the man feel a little sorry for Boris having to be stuck here while he and Bendy were able to go free, but maybe he'd be okay with the duty of guarding the studio.

"Uh... Oh, there you two are." Henry said when he came into the large room seeing the two toons down the hall to the exit, having put a large board down over the chute so they could get across. Boris looked back at the human and waved at him.

"Yeah, you guys need a safe way to get outta here, don't ya?" The wolf turned and went back to Henry, followed by Bendy, who let out a short whistle to call the phantoms. Henry took the time to sit in the chair beside the stand-alone table, turning his eyes to the row of large rotating reels on the wall while the four phantoms emerged from the ink.

"Alright, guys, I got good news and bad news. But it might not be so bad." Bendy started, pointing a proclaiming finger to the group. "Good news is, I'm finally free to leave this place thanks to Henry." He extended a hand to the human, who looked back at the little demon. "Bad news is, I'm the only one who can... Henry now anchors me to the surface, but the rest of you are still bound here by the ink machine."

Boris lowered his ears a bit as Bendy looked up at him. "So we gotta stay here then..."

"Unfortunately, buddy... But I promise, we'll come back and visit you guys often!" Bendy raised his hands in the air with an optimistic smile. "And I even thought up an idea for you to uphold. Henry said he anticipated some punks to come around and try to dilapidate this home of ours, so I want ya'll to protect this here studio, seeing as it's what keeps you alive too." He kept his smile when the ink creatures nodded to him, and turned his eyes to the phantoms. "And you guys be sure to keep Boris company while I'm gone, yeah?"

"Yes, my lord." The four replied in unison, bowing obediently.

"And you can be sure I'll tell ya all about the interesting stuff I come across out there, okay, buddy?" Bendy held his hips as he turned his smile to Boris, who nodded happily. "And maybe we'll find some way to get you outta here too, Boris. Maybe even you guys too." The phantoms tilted their heads at the little imp. "It ain't fair to keep you all trapped here forever. I'll find some solution."

Boris nodded again with his tail wagging. "Alright, Bendy. But have some fun in the meantime, we'll take care of things here."

"I will. Oh and uh, fair warning, don't go down into the basements, please... That monster is still down there, and it would break me if any of you got snatched up by it..." The demon rubbed his head while looking away, hoping this was the last time he'd have to bring up the ink eater.

"We'll stay up here if'n it stays in the basements, don't worry, buddy." The wolf smiled sympathetically, getting a satisfied grin from the ink demon. And while Henry accepted them as living creatures, he frowned knowing that realistically, the outside world would not be so lenient with them. They were all demons as far as anyone else was concerned, and this was a concern Henry held true to; Bendy was a true devil, which meant he was liable to act like one... Henry was spared his wrath, but he could still be just as freely homicidal as ever, and he was virtually impossible to stop. Even now, Bendy probably wouldn't take no for an answer to getting out of the studio, he was no doubt sick of being here, and now that he could leave, by damn he was gonna do it.

"Well, Bendy, you ready to face the outside world?" Henry asked, getting a nod from the dancing demon, and which he pulled himself to his feet.

"Ah, you lucky devil, Bendy!" Boris laughed, patting the imp's back before walking with the two to the exit.

"Indeed, I can't wait to see what's out there." Bendy replied with an inquisitive grin as he walked over the plank, which creaked lowly from his weight. Henry heard said creaking with a cautious leer, and proceeded to follow a beckoning wave of Bendy's hand once the demon was across the chute, but the creaking sounded again, louder this time with the heavier weight, and the board then simply snapped. Henry yelped as he was suddenly yanked down by gravity, finally losing his grip on the axe, but Boris moved quickly to catch his arm and smack the man into the chute wall. The human grunted at the impact and breathed heavily with trepidation, hearing the axe clatter to the floor below, while Bendy snickered and started laughing deeply.

"Don't worry, Henry, I gotcha!" The wolf assured before proceeding to pull Henry up with rather surprising strength. Henry clambered back onto the floor with nervous panting, before turning a glare back at Bendy, who was doubled over chortling his dang butt off.

Henry could only let out a growling sigh at the sight of the derisive demon. "Thank you, Boris." The wolf nodded as they both stood, before Boris then wrapped his arms around Henry. "Whoa uh, what-?" Henry uttered in confusion before he was leapt across the pit with Boris with a nervous gasp. Bendy kept laughing until they were across, and which he started to calm down.

"Hahahahahahahahahah! Heeheeheehaahahahahahahah~! Aahhhahahaho boy, ahahahah, ah I guess that board wasn't as sturdy as it looked, ey~?" He giggled with inky tears in his eyes, holding himself up partially with a hand on the doorknob, amused with Henry's exasperated posture.

"I would not be surprised if that was just another prank to you..." Henry uttered rubbing his face, before crossing his arms. "But there's not a lot of space over here, so if we could get a move on?"

Bendy wiped the inky tears from his eyes with an amused grin and nodded, watching Boris hop back over the pit before opening the door, which led into a short stairwell going up and into a sort of lounge area. It wasn't much more fixed up than the workshop, but instantly the suffocating stench of ink was replaced almost wholly with fresh oxygen, which almost literally hit Henry like a wall. He started breathing in large gulps of air, and he wasn't even outside yet, but the cleaner air was already working in cleansing his lungs and even his bloodstream of the fumes of the ink he'd been intaking for hours on end. Bendy watched him curiously of just how narcotic fresh oxygen really was to a human who was being deprived of it for so long, in which case he was slightly surprised that Henry lasted so long well enough breathing in the smell of nothing but musty old building, dust, and ink fumes. Henry soon got a sufficient intake of clean air, and moved on to the exit door, seeing only a soft light leaking in from under the door, and his internal clock seemed to instinctually flip on again, telling him it was sometime dusk. Bendy glanced back at the stairs leading into the workshop, hoping Boris and the phantoms would be okay for the most part, and he looked back hearing the door creak open.

It was indeed night, baring a clear starry sky and a full moon. The fresh cool air hit Henry again and made him smile to finally be out of that inky hellhole, while Bendy looked around in wonder, curious of all the new colors. They weren't as obnoxious and bright as he'd imagined, but he could now see things in hues besides black and grey, and sepia to some degree. "This is the outside world, Henry?" He sounded so wonder-stricken, it almost amused the man.

"Yup, bud, this is the outside world." He smiled up at the moon, missing its beautiful glow, while Bendy looked up at him, curious of that friendly address to him. Safe to say, Bendy was going to be incredulous of being referred to as any variation of 'buddy' by Henry for a while. But also safe to say, they had plenty of time to form a real friendship.

[jase-is-ace]

Back into the Pit

Chapter 11: A Stranger

~~~

Audrey opened her eyes to see some posters on the wall.

She felt different.

Wrong.

She looked at her hands.

Oh God…

“What’s wrong with my hands?” she asked no one in particular.

Staring at her left hand, which was completely covered in ink, she felt her heart start to race.

“What’s wrong with my hands!?” she wheezed out.

Hands quivering as she desperately tried to figure out what was going on.

“Oh Audrey, what’s happened to you?” she once again asked only herself.

A habit of an artist who spends most of her night shifts alone. She rose to her feet, vision clearing. Now that it had, she realized that this environment was very different.

It looked like she herself were in a sketch, a part of the work of art herself.

It was unnerving, it was wrong.

The artist took everything in: A huge pool of what looked like ink and at the end of the pool, huge writings that read “Welcome home”.

Swallowing the lump in her throat she looked elsewhere, spotting a note on a nearby desk she picked it up to examine the item.

Every great story begins in mystery.

Although things may be dark at the start,

the truth will illuminate your way.

Don’t be afraid of who you are.

Fear only what you may become, and banish it away.

-Your Best Pal

Who exactly her supposed best pal was, she had not a clue. All though, standing around wasn’t going to get her any answers.

Her only option was to keep moving and hopefully, get to the bottom of whatever was going on.

She made her way over to the poster she had initially registered from when she had woken up.

The poster had Wilson’s face on it. The man who pulled her into this crazy reality it seems.

The poster seemed to propagate that Wilson was this “all knowing” being who would supposedly grant you purpose.

As she recalled, he did say something about telling Audrey her purpose. What is going on?

The sound of swelling ink, the stench of rotting wood, and the faint sobs of an inhabitant invaded all her senses as she looked for a way out of the room.

A ladder to her right that was missing two pieces. Alright, first on the agenda: Find a way out by fixing that ladder.

She returned to the desk she had found the note on and looked through the drawers.

Audrey stumbled across an old baseball that gave her a nostalgic feeling, and the two missing pieces she needed.

After securely placing them into the ladder, she ascended it and made her way deeper and deeper into the studio.

The answers she seeked would be found within.

As she walked through a hall the speakers above her head suddenly came to life, and the voice coming from the other side chilled Audrey to the bone.

“Attention! children of the Machine!”

Wilson wheezed through the speaker.

“This is Wilson. Your friend, Your protector.” He continued.

Friend? Protector?

Audrey had a very hard time believing that, it was his fault that she was even here in the first place. Some friend.

“For two hundred and eleven days, you’ve lived without the Ink Demon and Demoness haunting your steps. I banished them away. I took away their miserable existences.”

Ink demon and Demoness? Audrey recalled the poster that claimed he had killed whatever those were.

She continued to walk down the bleak hall as the man continued his senseless rant.

“In return, I ask just a little favor: Among you there is a stranger, a young lady, bring her to me.”

“Oh great.” Was all Audrey could say.

Now she was wanted. Fantastic.

The speaker seemed to turn off after that statement, leaving the young and confused lady to her own thoughts and worries.

She needed to figure out what was going on and quick.

~~~

Chapter 10 / Chapter 12

[vishapsking]

The jade-cradeling stone illuminates the furthest corners of the world.

The that light trickles in bit by bit is accompanied by the warmth that extends from their horns to the branches of their majestic tail. It’s been so long since they’ve last heard a voice so near; the time between bloodied screams and then terrifying silence outside of the hums of the Ley Lines becomes innumerable. They thought that the longing for companionship had since eroded into dust. And yet the flutterings like falling petals within a heart of stone is unmistakable. Perhaps ‘hope’ was still lingering inside the stone cage.

It's blinding and scorching all at once. It causes the mighty Earth Sovereign to flinch back but gentle words call to him. A calloused hand upon their maw draws them out into the light. Words die upon their tongue at the sight before them, bathed in light.

The brightest amber glistening in the golden glow. Stone reaches out and embraces the comforting light. They dare indulge oneself in a world that burns like gold, sinking into an everlasting gilded dream of the sun.

How beautiful…

As bright as a fallen plant, its brilliance is unparalleled. 

A beauty and splendor they did not know before. They oft marvel at how colorful this world had become since they last roamed the lands above. But no more did their comrades of old linger in this world. To be the last of their pact, gives a certain chilling emptiness that seems to permeate every part of this vessel.

A blind dragon who had long sought the warmth of the sun, they wonder if this is but a dream. Another sweet illusion with promises of another life without the weighty guilt upon bare shoulders. Retuo is unable to place himself in this new world at the Lord of Stone’s side. Everything has been foreign and isolating all at once. Yet a flicker of warmth fills their chest once more when alabaster and gold fill distant amber gaze again.

“Aren’t they lovely?” The sun asks with a hint of pride glimmering upon playful cadence. His straightforward feelings are warm, it’s almost as if they are basking in the sun.

“Yes,” the moon replies, but their eyes are not on the colorful meadows before them.

A star appears in the wild, a sun ascends as bright as jade.

A light boat, a pair of lazy oars. The misty rain descends upon Dihua Marsh. Songbirds lull the world into a state of ease. Slowly, the world stalls in painted indigo hues resembling the bleeding canvas left in a certain someone’s Domain. The waters reflect such shades, glimmering like that of a silken brocade coveted by traveling merchants from afar.

A light boat, a pair leaning against each other. A life drunk with happiness and honeyed wine. Shoulders brush as the white fabrics dance upon the breeze. Clawed fingers take up the ink-soaked brush. Horsehair glides across parchment, leaving behind trails of emotion and unspoken words kept tight between a dragon’s maw. If they had words to speak such a thing, they would have. But they are unable to find any that could contain swelling truth boiling in the pit of their chest. How could they express himself when the words died on their tongue, placing grave markers in their place for all that has been left unsaid.

And as if Morax had heard them between the brushstrokes and dark lines, he reached for their hand. The Dragon King needn’t look; his fingers were etched the Memory of Stone: slender, strong and quick and never wrong. “Retuo,” he said as though such a name had been wrapped delicately like spun fairyfloss from Mondstadt.

Morax has always been better with words.

A light boat, a moon half full. Amidst the quiet, only the soft sound of the wind can be heard. Time seems to transform into an invisible river, trickling away.

The grass is misty, The waters now silent; It is evening.

Moonlight falls on the branches as a dragon’s roar rises in Nantianmen.

Firelight dances accompanied by the zither and er hu in merriment and delight. A jovial song, faint lyrics lingering upon wine-kissed lips. The plains stretch on and the stars glimmer in the night sky. Voices echo in their ears and though they should feel at ease, Retuo could not help the choking anxiety that bubbles at their throat. Like a frog within a well jumping to escape its stony prison.

What is it? A feeling that has him on edge, fueled by lapses in their neatly etched memories and frequent blackouts.

“This one is not oneself. One’s thoughts are tangled in words that are not one’s own,” the Dragon King confesses discreetly between them, not wishing to disturb those celebrating.

Even rocks that have stood firm for time immemorial will eventually disintegrate over time, crumbling into dust and gravel. This has always been a universal truth. Life passes and returns to the Ley Lines, filling the world with memories of countless lives. Nothing lasts forever.

When Retuo thinks on the past, they remember that precious things slip so easily through their fingers. Each time, the weight of their sins bears down more heavily, and they become even more unable to live with themself. What he couldn’t save, what they were powerless to do…

A playful bump and a sweetness against their lips. Retuo is pulled up from the mire of their sinking thoughts. The osmanthus wine still fresh on their tongue, they turn to the Morax whose mirth dances behind the beloved aurous hues. A weight presses against Retuo’s shoulder and a sense of calm fills them. As though this light could illuminate all the dark spaces between their thoughts. Morax is something solid to lean against, something violent, fierce and unmoving. Retuo couldn’t recall what it felt like to have someone hold them up like this. It feels terrifying and liberating all at once. As if once this weight is gone, they would tumble into a long forgotten darkness.

The fire’s amber glow toys with his sight, giving the Lord of Geo’s gaze a more mesmerizing pull than before. It’s something akin to desire, a need to be anchored.

Everything returns to dust. It is the natural order, an unstoppable force.

A drop of sunlight may trickle in, but a heart of stone is not easily moved.A drop of sunlight may trickle in, but a heart of stone is not easily moved.

Sometimes they had the strangest feeling about it all. When Morax is as near as he is now. It feels as though they have a chain tied around their chest, tightly knotted to him in a similar fashion. And when Morax eventually goes, with that immeasurable distance between them, Retuo is afraid; afraid that this rusty chain shall shatter and leave them in pieces. 

They desperately want to speak his name. Want to form the letters, to shape them, to feel them leave their mouth, but they couldn’t. Not with the blistering hand grasped around their throat and the searing arrows igniting this vessel’s skin, tearing it like delicate tapestry. 

Still, they try. A crack forms and a buried voice seeps from within. 

“You are...beautiful.” They break. Their voice. Their back. Their legs. Their face. Retuo breaks. Crumbles. Were it not for the stone steles that pinned him to the wall, they wouldn’t be able to stand. Stand it. Retuo is unable to meet Morax’s eyes. His words were harsh and soft all at once, lingering with emotions the Dragon King had no name for. One that had been slowly gathering, forming in an entangled mass sewn into every fiber of their being.

Doomed by the Heavens. They were bound in an inescapable fate decreed by the Heavenly Principles, but it is that same sentence that had led them to one another. It feels as though they had been born in this world to meet him. Every moment had been precious, far more than any gemstone or ore could offer. That is why, if the fates see it fit, Retuo is willing to wait an eternity to be with him one more time. Waiting endlessly in the darkness again, for the light to caress their cheek once more.

A fleeting moment, a thousand years in the mortal world. The rocks feel it, and so too does the earth and the gods.

“Retuo.” Morax smiles and his face is like the sun.

Blinding.

Life endures in Heaven and Earth thanks to the merciful Adeptus. On this site lies an evil dragon, please do not disturb it.

[marenostrum-ac-dc]

Joseph-Philibert Girault de Prangey Sakara. Pyramide. Daguerreotype. n.d.[1842-43] Titled and numbered in ink on label on verso. 31/4 x 33/4in. (8.2 x 9.5cm.) LITERATURE For a reproduction of the plate from Excursions Daguerriennes after a daguerreotype by Goupil-Fesquet, see Bull and Lorimer, Up The Nile, p. ix. See also: Aubenas, S. and LacarriŠre, J., Voyage en Orient, p.20. NOTES Sakkara is part of the necropolis of the ancient capital of Memphis, about fifteen miles southwest of modern Cairo, where the pharaohs of the 3rd, 5th and 6th dynasties are buried. It seems surprising that, having got this close, Girault de Prangey did not make more photographs of the pyramids. Possibly others were made which have survived unknown outside the archive, or perhaps there were difficulties which discouraged the photographer from further efforts here. His predecessor, Goupil-Fesquet, certainly encountered problems which would test anyone's patience. Sylvie Aubenas quotes from his own account of his attempts thus: " Il me paraissait bien humiliant de rentrer au Caire sans ramener aucun souvenir des monuments les plus c‚lŠbres du monde, en d‚pit des dŠnigrements de mes compagnons qui mena‡aient de jeter le daguerr‚otype au Nil, comme un baggage de sucroŒt; j'ai la patience, et … moi seul il est vrai, de pr‚parer encore une dizaine de planches que je polis tant bien que mal et avec toute la rapidit‚ possible; je m'avise de faire le contraire des prescriptions de M. Daguerre et, grace … cet expedient, j'obtiens successivement quatre et cinq ‚preuves tant du sphinx que des pyramides, en laissant les images expos‚es pendant quinze minutes au soleil. " This view shows the Pyramid of Unas, the last king of the 5th dynasty. Located to the south of the more famous Djoser, or Stepped Pyramid, it looks rather like a pile of rubble. However it is the first one to have the Pyramid Texts carved into its internal walls. These valued texts described the rituals which enabled the Pharoah to ascend to the starry heavens. This is the only photograph of a pyramid in the archive of Girault de Prangey.

[ahb-writes]

Book Review: ‘Ascendance of a Bookworm’ #7

Ascendance of a Bookworm: Part 2 Volume 4 (Ascendance of a Bookworm: Part 2 by Miya Kazuki My rating: 5 of 5 stars The shortest but most dramatic volume of the novel series thus far, ASCENDANCE OF A BOOKWORM #7 sets into motion several converging elements: Myne's final puzzle piece of printmaking, an anonymous outside threat to Myne's entourage, and a known internal threat to the temple's stability. Little Myne is doing everything she can to keep her head up and her eyes forward as the number of challenges bloom and multiply. She has allies in the High Priest, Benno, her family, and elsewhere. But the brilliant librarian-to-be has plenty of enemies as well. ASCENDANCE OF A BOOKWORM #7 brings to light an extensive and far-reaching scheme to bring the commoner apprentice shrine maiden to heel. Nobility near and far have heard tale of the little girl with unusual stores of magic who refuses to behave. Could they manifest a foolproof scheme to steal away the girl for themselves? Readers hungering for a neat and tidy convergence of the story arc's many odds and ends will be pleased with the author's solution. Myne is a fun character who continues to amuse and inspire. She continuously pushes others to do their best and be the best versions of themselves. Delia, for example, goes on one seriously wild ride in terms of character development. The emotional firebrand continues to make mistakes out of genuine interest, only to double back and suffer grave consequences for her behavior. Myne, as always, gives the girl one opportunity after another to own up to her errant ways. Another example is a new character, Heidi, a chemist employed by the ink guild. Heidi is a scatterbrained scientist whose curiosity and hunger for knowledge overrides almost every programmatic duty to which she must abide as the heir to a local ink shop. Her obsessive behavior and ribald loyalty reminds readers that good people come in all types. The showdown toward the conclusion of ASCENDANCE OF A BOOKWORM #7 finally pits the interests of the nobility against the interests of Myne and her family. Indeed, will the young apprentice shrine maiden be involuntarily adopted by a rich noble for safekeeping? Will she be crudely sold, for a modest sum, to a foreigner who disobeys local laws? Or will the girl lose herself while struggling to protect those closest to her? Will she die? Myne fights, earns a few scratches, and defends what is hers. It's great to see actual magic use claim greater and greater prominence in the story's critical moments. At Myne's side are her attendants, her family, and the High Priest, Ferdinand, who lays down a serious butt-whipping when the time calls for it. A cleverly written surprise sneaks into the narrative's final 45 pages or so, concerning Myne's fateful future with the Eherenfest nobility. Readers will feel happily conflicted about the revelation, but the author does a great job of staying true to the characters, their needs, and their motives. The novel series' next arc will likely focus on Myne's haphazard attempts to fit into high society. Hopefully, she doesn't cause too much chaos. Then again, maybe that wouldn't be such a bad thing.

Light-Novel Reviews || ahb writes on Good Reads

[adapembroke]

Venus in Aries: Uncomfortable Strength

I have spilled a lot of ink lately talking about essential dignity. It is a subject I feel passionately about because I have seen the pain that the technique, badly wielded, has caused my clients. That pain is also personal for me.

I have Venus in Aries in my natal chart. It is closely trine my ascendant in Leo, so my relationship with Venus is something that I, literally, wear on my face.

They say that beauty is in the eye of the beholder, but no one knows better that beauty is a social construct than someone who has experienced being not conventionally beautiful.

When I was a teenager, bleached hair, spaghetti strap tank tops, and low-rise, size 0 jeans were the beauty standard, but I have never been confused for a delicate, Victorian flower. I had black hair and dramatic curves that spilled out of low-rise jeans and made spaghetti strap tank tops obscene. This combination drew predators and the taunting of my peers, and I was put in the strange position of simultaneously being seen as inappropriately sexualized and not attractive enough for my gender.

To cope with the cognitive dissonance, I hid my body with oversized band t-shirts and skater jeans. I threw myself into mosh pits at hardcore shows and carried myself like a soldier with a rigid back, eyes glaring straight ahead, radiating dignity and arrogance. Whenever I went out, my mother told me to turn it down because I was scaring off boys. I stubbornly refused to surrender my much needed armor.

Time and age tempered my edge and made me smarter. I learned that it wasn't necessary to display my ability to protect myself so dramatically. A glare and a sharp-edged word was usually enough.

Still, I never lost the sense of being forced to present myself in a way that felt inauthentic just to feel safe.

When I learned that Venus was in detriment in Aries, I was devastated.

It felt like even astrology was saying I was ugly and my gender presentation was broken.

Usually, evolutionary astrology swoops in to save the day when traditional astrology makes me feel crappy, but, with Venus, the evolutionary approach (as it was presented to me) just made me feel more discouraged. It was all about Amazons and warrior women. With Venus in Aries, I was supposed to be perfectly positioned to be a feminist icon, to lean in and be a girl boss. I never felt more misunderstood. Why didn't they understand that my strength was just a shield I used to protect myself? I wished that someone would see through me or, better yet, rescue me from the need to armor up in the first place. I wanted desperately to throw down my punk rags, dress up, and go to the ball like Cinderella, but I look like a little clown on the prairie in pastels and lace.

It wasn't until I listened to Chris Brennan's interview with Charles Obert on The Astrology Podcast that I started to see my Venus in Aries differently. In the interview, Obert says Venus in Aries is like Julie Andrews being assigned to play the lead in Rambo. It was so easy for me to imagine Julie Andrews dressing up in warrior gear, the hollow-eyed stare of a person out of her element only adding to the effectiveness of her presentation. Chris Brennan compared planets in detriment to people in exile, and that felt exactly right.

Later in the interview, they talked about the way that planets without essential dignity can become strengths. Instead of the usual warrior woman take I was used to, they emphasized the discomfort of having a planet in detriment. Venus in Aries could be represented by a nurse working in a war zone, for example. "In that case," Obert said, "that would be an enormously useful service. But a caring, peaceful, and loving nurse is not going to be at home when there’s bombs flying overhead."

It was only when I began to see my Venus in Aries as a part of myself that was useful but in exile that I was able to make peace with it.

A nurse in a war zone doesn't need to pretend to be comfortable. They don't have time to be comfortable. Being comfortable is not what they're there to do. Pretending that they are comfortable does a disservice to them and their service. And yet, the very qualities that make a nurse uncomfortable on a battlefield are the same qualities that make them effective. No one hates disease more than a healer.

Ironically, it was exactly this realization that made it possible for me to embrace both the traditional interpretation of Venus in Aries and the evolutionary one. The acknowledgement that my Venus in Aries wasn't just a defect made me feel safe enough to own that it reflected an experience that was uncomfortable, and seeing that placement as valuable allowed me to own and embrace the strength that living with that discomfort required me to develop. I now walk with my head high because I know I'm strong. I am proud of what I am capable of without needing to fall back on being defensively arrogant... most of the time.

[landofspaceandrainbows]

The Dream of the Card and Pin

The Dream of the ( Entomologist’s ) Card and Pin - (this is somewhat of a first draft)

for context - this is based on The Dream of the Rood

the following words were reported to us by Sylvia

Listen, I will tell the best of visions What came to me in the middle of the day When I came out from the factory, and fell sleeping in the forest When the voice bearers and I dwelled in rest, and only the cicadas spoke.

It seemed to me I saw the most wonderful tree Footed with briars, wound round with light The brightest of birches, cased in silver Sometimes the leaves seemed of paper, sometimes of gold, sometimes of blood. And affixed to it's trunk a glimmering single pin and card

Beautiful gems stood there upon that pin, sometimes moonstone and ruby Sometimes of haemolymph and blood Nevertheless I could see beneath jewels, ancient hostility Ancient memory, so that it began to bleed anew. Standing before that brilliance I was afraid I stood wounded in eye, wounded in mind, wounded in soul cankered with guilt. Wonderous was that victory tree. And there I lay. Until I heard the paper card speak a sound.

“That was very long ago, I remember it still, That I was cut down from the edge of the wood, Ripped up by my roots. They seized me there, strong enemies,

Dragged by chains into the paper factory, by them - Beaten till the fibers came free and flattened Bleached to white And dried, they made me a spectacle

Commanded me to pin up their criminals there, enscribed their names in ink Termite, Ant, and Centipede Rough hands held me there Until I saw the Savior come The moonlit one, bladed one, liberator. His wings beat strongly as he came into their hands Scales he shed from his wings and fur from his back.

I trembled as the changer embraced me, even then I did not dare sag to earth Or fall to the corners of the earth I had to stand fast They marked his name Moth besides him I held the king and queen of all steadily They raised us into sight under glass.

They pierced us with steel bright Card and bug together They mocked us both together On me the wounds are visible, wounds of malice But I did not dare injure one of them, even with my sharpest edges.

I was all drenched with haemolymph, that poured from that one’s side O fate, I saw the God of the wood Streched outr in darkness Wood wept, silverfish crept in sorrowful to see us.

A month - fire, storm, the roof breaks We fell into dark places Leaves buried us in a deep pit Nevertheless the Moth’s servants Friends, discovered me there Hands held us, carried us, adorned me with gold and gems.

Now you may hear that I have suffered the work of evil doers, And many sorrows.  Now the time has come. That I will be honored far and wide Men and creatures will pray to this beacon, the son of the Wood Suffered on me for a time Because of this I have once known The Glory The Moth’s fur has turned to silver on me, I can heal.

Once I was the hardest of punishments Hated of the six - legged, now I liberate. Blessed of the mossy one, the malachite, and the one who holds the shears.

Death he tasted here; nevertheless, the Lord rose again On invisible wings, with his great might to help the woodlands. He ascended into heaven. He will come again to this earth to seek us all.

Now I beg of you, my beloved, one-eyed one. That you tell of this vision Reveal with words that it is the tree of glory On which the almighty Moth suffered To break the Wheel"

[ask-soul-bendy]

Ascending the Ink Pit pt.2

And here’s part 2 of Ascending the Ink Pit, the continuation of The Ink Eater when they finally emerge from the studio. This one is much longer than part 1 because I told myself there would only be two parts, but I didn’t think I actually put so much description, lel. XP But if you like where this story is going, if you like how I describe everything, then by all means, enjoy~

Ascending the Ink Pit pt.2

"Bendy, you sure there's no food in this place?" Henry whined as his stomach did, glancing around the rooms the two were wandering around through. The current large room they were in, he recalled with a grimace, was where Bendy seemed to really amp up the danger, seeing a surprising amount of cogs and gears and mechanisms, large and small, all slick and dripping with ink. They all seemed to be moving smoothly, if in a ticking motion like clockwork.

"None that you'll want to eat anyway." Bendy replied, making sure to guide Henry through some traps that were still armed. "I mean all that's really around anymore is that Bacon Soup. Unless you've... Collected it all, shall we say?" He sent an incredulous look back at the human, still curious as to what he was doing with the cans.

"Uh... Yeah, I collected them all, let's go with that." He waved a hand with a sheepish smirk, hoping the subject would drop sometime soon.

Bendy gave him an unconvinced look, frowning. "I know you're lying, Henry... But it's a moot point I guess, so I'll stop asking." He shrugged, looking forward. Ahead of them, the ink seemed to be moving in a manner akin to a sentient creature. A rather large sentient creature. Henry was a bit uneasy that Bendy could see through his lies, but was a slight bit relieved for the subject of the soup cans being dropped. His relief faded when he noticed the moving mass of ink ahead of them, knowing what it was with a shudder. Even now he was confused on its existence in the workshop, how the place could support it. Getting closer, the creature turned out to be somewhat like a giant, very thick tendril with a long, scooped mouth piece. Though looking at the monstrosity again, Henry considered this thing to be closely as disturbing as the ink eater, while Bendy hardly seemed to acknowledge it. The creature let out a deep garbled growl as the mandibles turned to them; it didn't seem to have eyes, but it somehow knew where the two were. Its growling vibrated through the walls as viscous ink dripped freely from its large grotesque body (if it can be called a body), and Henry just couldn't stand to be near the thing. He instinctually turned to run away from it in primal fear, making Bendy look after him with surprise. "Henry, where ya going!?" The little demon ran after the man, which caused the tendril monster to growl dangerously at them, though it didn't give chase.

Bendy seemed to scowl at the fear he was feeling from Henry, chasing him through a different corridor which led away from where they needed to go to get out of this place. Henry didn't respond as he ran, hoping to never have to see that thing again. He didn't care where he was going, as long as it was away from the nightmarish creature. Bendy frowned and sank into the ink, only to jump up in front of Henry and crash into him to stop him. Henry yelped at the sudden impact and toppled over onto the little devil. "Mmph!" Bendy cried as he was smothered by Henry's torso. Henry grunted at the fall, panting at the energy he wasted running from the creature. He shuffled off of Bendy as he felt the demon struggling with his weight. "Gah..." Bendy rubbed his head as he leered at the human, who backed up against a wall with a disgruntled air. "Why'd you run? Are you really that scared of that thing?"

"What do you think, Bendy!? I wasn't exactly prancing away from it with glee!" He retorted at Bendy, getting a slightly irritated snort in response.

"You're done with this place, Henry. That monster's no threat to you now, especially with me around."

"Well how am I supposed to know that? Not to mention that it was a mighty big threat before I was done with this place. Scars like that can't just be eased, Bendy."

"That was the point!" He snapped back, getting a confused and nervous look from Henry. "Have you already forgotten that I initially intended to have you killed? Scaring the hell out of you was just par for the course, Henry, it was only by the last time you called back to me that I changed my mind..." Bendy growled lowly at the man. "Feeling your fear was so exhilarating for me, that's why I let you get away. If I was solely after you for the sake of being bloodthirsty, I wouldn't have let you get even this far. That monster was made to terrify you right alongside me. It's not like the ink eater, which I have no idea where it came from, but at least we know where that tendril monster's origins lie." Henry watched the little imp rave at him with a dumbstruck expression, having yet to stand while Bendy was standing in a rather familiarly imposing posture. He flinched a bit when the irritated devil paced towards him and gripped his collar. "Now get up. If you wanna really get away from that monster for good, we have to keep going the way you deviated us from." Bendy scowled in a demanding manner, causing Henry to shakily get to his feet. He'd partially forgotten how much Bendy spiked his fear since being with the little ink demon while he wasn't out for his blood, but he proceeded to go back the way he ran, hoping the tendril monster was gone.

When they came back to the spacious room where the large grotesque creature once was, it was now gone, only a large pool of ink left where it was. Henry let out an unnerved breath seeing the pool of ink, surrounded by fractured floorboards and some other debris, and he followed Bendy back to the halls that would lead to the above floors. "... Is uh... Is Boris still around?" Henry asked, trying to distract himself from the tendril monster.

"He's probably upstairs with the ink machine. Why?"

"Well I uh, just... Haven't seen him for a while..."

"And you want to?"

"Well... I mean, he wasn't... He didn't usually cause me nearly as much grief as you did..."

"And why do you think that is...?" Bendy's voice turned shady, making Henry look at him distantly.

"... Um... To leave me for you?"

"That's one reason. He was just meant to keep an eye on you, and make sure the puzzles were consistent and sequential."

"... So then, he was always on your side..."

"He's my friend, of course he was. You made us to be inseparable by those old cartoons, and the demonic influence only cemented our bond..."

"Wait, does that mean he's a demon too? I don't think I made him as sinister as you, even by the impish sense."

"No, he's not a demon. He is a creature of ink, but I'm the only true devil here."

"Hmm... Alright then." Henry concluded, before looking around the halls they were traveling through. He could feel something following them from behind, prompting him to look back only to find nothing but darkness and ink. He really missed the smell of fresh air after spending what could only be presumed as days in this suffocating hellhole, and the feeling of being followed didn't help his nerves. No one in their 50's should ever have to live through this kind of nightmare. But regardless, getting out of it was definitely better than going into it. Henry watched the ceiling as he heard quiet movement, frowning when it brought back memories of hearing that sound indicative that Bendy was nearby. Now, he knew it wasn't Bendy, but possibly those phantoms that said demon mentioned earlier. Why were they following the two?

Bendy just continued to lead the way through the expansive floor and all the seemingly out of place machinery, all the traps that Henry dodged, granted there were only a few of those, but Bendy wasn't surprised that a few of his traps were missed. Humans could be pretty crafty in situations like these, and he had no doubt that Henry's caution helped with deciding what was safe and what wasn't. He glanced up hearing the movement as well, but paid it no further heed other than assuming the phantoms were following them to the distant sound of music coming from the above floor. But like the other floors, it was much faster getting through this one when puzzles were no longer a hindrance, and soon enough the two made it to the lift that went up to the music department. "We're getting closer, Henry."

"Finally. But... This thing fell when I came down. How do we get back up it?" Henry opened the door into the elevator shaft, seeing the lift tangled with its own tether lines, utterly useless. The ladder on the outside of the shaft was damaged as well, so climbing wasn't an option either.

"Well, you're not too chicken of the searchers, are ya?" The ink demon crossed his arms with a mischievous look, making Henry frown at what he was thinking.

"As long as they're not trying to kill me..." He watched Bendy in wonder, before wincing as the imp gave an eerie whistle to the ink-layered corridors. He felt weird with that sound, and couldn't tell why, before Bendy ushered him into the lift room.

"They won't kill you so long as you don't kick 'em in the face." Bendy smirked some, watching ink start to pool into the room in a large amount, giving way to a horde of grotesque searchers. The ink demon then grabbed onto Henry and jumped onto the backs of a couple of the creatures, keeping balance as they started conjoining into a pile of moving, vaguely humanoid ink that proceeded to climb up the wall. Henry wore a shocked look at the event, subconsciously holding onto Bendy to keep from falling off the growing mass of searchers. He didn't fully trust in his own footing, since he was standing on slippery moving ink that didn't provide the largest of surface area, though he was surprised at the ink of the searchers being solid enough to support the weight of both himself and Bendy. The gurgled moaning and hissing sounds of the searchers was half of their disturbing demeanor, the other half being that they looked to be melting and deformed, of course not hard to understand why since they were made of ink. But as the amalgamated pile of searchers grew higher up the elevator shaft, the mass started to sway from the weight, making both Bendy and Henry press against the wall.

"You sure these things won't fall over?" Henry asked uneasily, not wanting to think of what would happen if they dropped from this height.

"Well they're stuck against the wall, so we should be okay..." He looked down at the wall of searcher limbs, secretly hoping they wouldn't fall over as the mass climbed up the wall, with not much of a base to hold it steady as the weight built up along with them. A mass of searchers was definitely useful, but not as much if they weren't conglomerated properly. The searchers held together until they got close to the top of the shaft, but the weight had gotten to be too much for the mass to stay upright and it collapsed. Bendy jumped onto the floor easily, but Henry wasn't so agile, having only caught the edge and he could only hope his arms wouldn't slip.

"Bendy!" He cried, struggling not to fall with his feet trying to grip onto the wall and using the axe to help pull himself up as well, sticking the blade into the floorboards for extra leverage. Bendy looked back at him with a spark of concern and moved to help him up, pulling his arms and shirt with a growl. The sound of cascading ink and distressed vocals echoed from down the shaft as the searchers collapsed under the weight of the tower, ink flooding the lower level with a vacuum gust blowing upward. The wind slightly helped Henry clamber up onto the floor, who grunted and panted on his hands and knees, his heart pounding in fear that he could have fallen several stories if not for Bendy's help. Said ink demon sat with a huff, watching the man recover and calm down, noting that Henry still somehow had a hold of the axe. He must have had a death grip on the thing, being as he clung to it like a lifeline.

"You alright?" Bendy asked, getting a nod from the human.

"Yeah... My chest hurts now though." Henry rubbed his chest at the sharp pain from the hard edge of the shaft pressing into his ribcage. "I can't wait to get out of this god forsaken deathtrap..." He groaned, missing the dark sneer that Bendy shot, before moving to stand.

"Well like I said, we're almost there now, Henry." Bendy looked up at the human for a moment, before turning to exit the lift room, swinging the door open. The room was familiar to Henry, the one he'd first encountered Boris the wolf after escaping from Bendy. The soup can the wolf had kicked out still rested against the wall where it had rolled to, right between two large shelves against the wall. The two paced through the room past a couple of barrels and into the room where Henry had been saved by the door cutting off the demon's reach to him. The door was still barricaded by a plank lock, and Bendy turned his distracted attention to the shelves stock full of little Bendy plushes, seeing some laying over while the rest sat upright. They were so adorable, which put an almost dignified grin on the devil's face; he knew he had his charm from the olden days, and he was quite proud of it. He then looked back at Henry, becoming curious when he was just studying the door almost thoughtfully, before the human motioned to jiggle the knob. He was then met with a reminiscent gaze from the man, being offered a smirk that said, "remember this?" Bendy blinked in wonder, before the sound of the jiggling doorknob brought back the memory of when Henry had kept his attention for a few more seconds after their little game of Tag by enacting a form of reaching back to him. He inclined his head with a small smirk and paced closer, only to knock on the door three times. "... Is that what you were waiting for?"

"Can't say I wasn't hoping you'd keep that in mind." He admitted before moving to remove the plank from its locking position.

"Why'd you assume that I would?" Bendy watched him gaze out into the ink layered hall on the other side of the door, just staring for a moment.

"... Well... In spite of what you'd become back then, and you were trying to kill me, you were still my muse, Bendy... I was hoping that by reaching back to you in whatever ways I could, I could possibly... Get you to remember me..."

"Teh, I always knew exactly who you were, Henry. I just wanted your soul." The little devil paced past the human's legs into the hallway, followed by the man's uneasy gaze. "I knew how devoted to us you were, how passionate you felt with us because we were indeed your muses. But being as I'm a demon, it was bound to happen that I would aspire to new goals and develop new ambitions. Even if your vision of me was much more tame. Give something its own life and soul, and it's going to act in kind..."

Henry watched him pace down the hall, still able to see the image of the demon in his larger form running towards him poised to kill. He jumped a bit when he heard sudden whispered noises behind him and looked back, seeing nothing still, but having the ever present strange feeling that he was being followed. "Hey, wait up, Bendy!" He turned and ran after the demon who'd already turned the corner; they couldn't even continue without the human's axe since the ceiling had collapsed upon Bendy jumping out of the ink in the adjacent room.

"Well there's kind of little choice for me to do otherwise." Unless he was feeling particularly impish a la sinking into the ink and leaving the man behind. But seeing as he could now leave this place without falling apart thanks to Henry's soul, he was more inclined to help Henry out with only a few spontaneous pranks peppered about. "Alright, Henry, you know what to do."

"Why do I have to do everything?" Henry gave the ink demon a withered leer. "I'm tired from this whole thing as it is, can't you give me a break for once?"

"Nope~ You gotta keep your strength up, buddy~" Bendy grinned derisively at him, holding his hands behind his back.

"... Why do I get the feeling that, low key, you're still very much vindictive with me?" He frowned, but proceeded to clear the wreckage of the fallen ceiling and debris.

"Maybe because I've yet to forgive you." The imp crossed his arms watching the man go at it, bending to the side when a stray chopped plank inexplicably flung back at him, feeling the wind blow by his head. He snickered in amusement, loving the erratic physics sometimes. "That one was on a mission~"

"What?" Henry looked back, seeing the broken plank settle upon the floor behind Bendy. "Did that almost hit you?"

"No, it went right through me." He still grinned, causing Henry to roll his eyes and resume hacking the debris away.

"Your sarcasm is as palpable as the ink, I swear." He couldn't help but smirk as he heard Bendy chortle at the comment, glad to know that he and Bendy had some similar sense of humor after all. He hardly noticed anymore the ink that showered upon his back; these clothes were definitely going in the bin when he got home, and he was gonna take a nice hot shower lasting a whole hour to get all this ink off of him. But while he was chopping away, he suddenly paused when he thought back to what Bendy had said only minutes ago. “I always knew exactly who you were, Henry. I just wanted your soul.” His... Soul? Bendy tilted his head at Henry's pause, wondering why he stopped. "Uh... Bendy, what did you mean when you mentioned my soul?"

The demon blinked, but didn't seem too taken aback. "Mmm... Oh, whoops! Did I let that slip out?" He snickered, slapping a hand to his head realizing his own blunder. "Whelp~ My bad~"

"Your bad? What did you do?" Henry turned a glare back at him, to which the imp shrugged. "All I remembered before waking up from us sleeping was being trapped in a glowing pentagram and you talking in some unknown language before I passed out again."

"You're still alive, ain't ya? Aren't you grateful for that?" Bendy crossed his arms again, looking a bit shady.

"Well, yes, but my soul is a precious thing to me. Did you not expect me to panic when I have an inkling of what the underworld tends to deal in with peoples' souls?"

"I know you panic, but why are you getting so worked up about it? If you had such an acute inkling, heh, then you should have figured at some point why I was hunting you down all the while."

"I thought it was just in grudging cold blood, I never figured you'd have actual ties to Hell itself." He slumped his shoulders, becoming more disgruntled now knowing that Bendy was much more potent than he thought.

"Well you learn something new by the minute. And keep hacking away, we're not getting anywhere by you just sitting there with ink dripping all over you." He clapped his hands in an ushering manner, only getting a withering look from Henry for a moment, before the man sighed and turned back to continue clearing the wreckage. He supposed that he should have figured at some point, as Bendy said, that the possibility of involving his very soul in this whole thing was bound to become a factor. Of course, true demons were Hell spawn, it was pretty much their shtick to either torture the souls of the damned or use them as currency. Or in this case, use the soul as an anchor to survive outside of Hell. Which then got him wondering why Bendy was the one to be summoned from the underworld. Did he exist in the form he donned now, or did he have a different persona in Hell? He knew he'd made Bendy as a demon in the cartoons, but as Bendy mentioned earlier, his interpretation of him was much more tame and innocent, but now the demon was, well... A true omnipotent and very dangerous devil. But he still had traits of his lighter being. Unfortunately, that only made Henry realize that such qualities made for a creature he really had to be careful with; what if Bendy had a finicky temper, how did he behave when he was angry, what was prone to earning a grudge from him, what was he willing to withhold patience for, and what exactly did it take to get on his good side? He hoped the answers weren't hard to find, or too consequential. He didn't want to take an ink demon out of this place, only to subsequently let said demon wreak havoc once they were out of this studio. He still cared for the imp in spite of all he'd done, but now he hoped he could keep Bendy on a strong enough leash so as not to make his own life a living hell...

Bendy had taken to playing with some ink idly while Henry bore a hole through the collapsed ceiling, and soon enough the job was done. He looked up and noted that the human seemed to be in deep thought, moving to follow him through the hole into the hall leading to the room in which Sammy had tried to sacrifice the man to him. Stepping foot on the other side of the debris allowed for the two to hear some movement within the walls reminiscent of Bendy's stalking through the pipes. Henry glanced around almost skittishly while Bendy seemed to focus his eyes at a particular spot, knowing what was the source of the shuffling, though he disregarded it and continued onward. Henry's nerves were slightly alleviated when he heard the sloshing noise of his feet wade through the small depression in the floor filled with ink, a familiar noise he took an odd comfort in while going through the studio. They both looked around the room as they emerged from the hall, but a noise from the hall made them look back, Henry stepping back when a humanoid figure pulled itself from the pool of ink with an unsettling growl. It looked to be around 7 or 8ft tall and radiated a vaporous aura while dripping with ink, uncomfortably reminding Henry of Bendy's daunting visage. Henry could swear he was seeing the ink demon from before all over again as the phantom drew closer, stepping backward while Bendy stood in place completely unfazed. The phantom growled lowly as it stopped before Bendy and knelt obediently. "My lord..." It spoke in a dark inhuman voice, but surprisingly clear, and a bit familiar to Henry.

"Well heya, Sammy~ Was that you and the others following us?" Bendy questioned, resting his fists upon his hips, getting a nod from the ink creature. "Well then, I suggest you thank Henry there, since he powered up the machine to bring you all back to life~" He smirked incredulously pointing a thumb back at Henry, referring to the last machine before the ink eater got the human. The phantom looked up at Henry with a tilt of its head, naturally intimidating the man with its glowing red eyes. Henry looked quite unnerved and surprised hearing Bendy call this creature Sammy; did that mean that this was the same Sammy that said demon had killed first? Bendy sure seemed more welcoming than before, but Sammy's gaze made Henry increasingly anxious, and being in this room was not helping.

"... How ironic, Henry... I was expecting you to succumb to the ink at some point, but here you stand, graced with my lord's mercy after all..." He reached a clawed hand out to the man. "Don't you now feel privileged bearing such a blessing? How wonderful his acceptance is?"

"Uh... Y-Yeah, sure..." Henry gave a vague smirk, hoping he wouldn't say anything Sammy might find even minutely insulting. "You're uh... You're looking good yourself, Sammy..." He slanted his brows back, hoping a compliment, as shallow as it was, would help keep the dangerous looking phantom satisfied. Sammy only slacked his arm back against the floor with a distant leer, but Bendy's expression was pretty rich at the worshiper's words. He rolled his eyes with his head turned away from Sammy, an expression of exasperation that proved amusing to Henry.

"Anyway, Sammy, would ya happen to know if Boris is nearby?"

"I'm afraid I don't, my lord. But I can look for him if that is what you wish."

Bendy nodded. "I do wish that. Go find him and tell him I'll be coming up shortly with Henry."

"Yes, my lord." Sammy bowed with a clawed hand to his chest, and easily sank into the floorboards as a puddle of ink. The vaporous aura of his body vanished, and Bendy looked back at Henry with a smirk.

"Well, come on, Henry, we get to meet up with Boris again!" He skipped by the human almost happily, getting an incredulous look from Henry, before the man moved to follow him. The only thing that stopped the two from continuing on was the locked door leading to the music department, but it was an easy solution to Bendy. The ink demon simply morphed a finger into the shape of a key and used it as the correct key to unlock the door beside where Henry was tied up to the beam. He completely ignored the pentagram as he opened the door, as well as the surprised look from Henry that he was so versatile with mere ink. The man shook his head and paced along, starting to wonder what he was going to do to get out of here. Was he really going to take Bendy with him? He didn't seem to have much of a choice, especially if Bendy had anything to say about it, but what about Boris, and even Sammy and the other three phantoms? Would they want to be free from the studio as well? Could they leave the studio? He'd mused earlier that Bendy could leave with half of his soul keeping the demon's inky body stable, but that probably meant that the other ink creatures were still bound to this place lest they fall apart. Or, maybe the phantoms had a better chance, but he knew very little of how it worked if they needed something more to keep them together or not. He decided to ask Bendy about it, he'd probably know.

"Hey, Bendy."

"Hm?"

"If you can now leave the studio, do you think the others can too? Or will they still be stuck here without something to keep them stable?"

Bendy blinked at the notion, holding a hand to his chin in thought. The question was valid; Boris wouldn't be able to leave since he had no power source strong enough to keep him alive outside of the studio. He wasn't a demon, so he doubted a soul would help much. Or, maybe it would, but it could have vastly different effects than Bendy had. "Hmm..." He didn't want to leave his friend here though, but perhaps he could have the phantoms stay with him at least, and he could visit him now and then. It wasn't the most satisfying outcome, but there weren't many other options that heralded much better. "They'll probably have to stay here. I mean, this place has been our home for decades, albeit a pretty dreary and decrepit home, but it's familiar."

"Boris and Sammy and the others could protect it from anyone who might try to vandalize it. God knows some punks would be all too tempted to waltz on in and start 'fixing' the place up with even more decrepitness." He frowned thinking of how disrespectful people could be nowadays, even to a simple abandoned place that once was a nice location.

"True. So I guess that'll be a duty for them to uphold. And we can visit them now and then." Bendy smiled hopefully. The two soon came out of the winding corridor into the familiar music department, the view of ink splotches around the billboard making Henry anticipate searchers to spring up poised to attack, but nothing came. Most everything was ignored as the two trekked along the relatively small floor-plan, except for the one Bendy cutout that stood against a wall next to a shelf, a pentagram drawn behind it. Bendy studied it for a moment with slight curiosity, as Henry did, before they moved on to wade through the ink-flooded hall. Henry had also glanced at the large pentagram etched into a recess in the wall before said cutout, even still getting the willies at the sight of it. It seemed to radiate some passive power that Henry could swear was familiar in some manner... The same kind of pentagram had appeared in some other spots along his descent into the studio, but he could never place what their purpose was... In any case, they no longer mattered. Bendy had taken to splashing around in the ink akin to a child playing around in a pool of water, getting Henry's curiosity as ink was splashed around. He shielded himself a few times as the little imp seemed to be having fun, his giggles reverberating off the walls and for once he looked as innocent as he was so many years ago.

Soon they came back to the room in which a pentagram on the floor had thrown Henry for a loop, showing him a few inconspicuous visions before knocking him out for who knew how long. Bendy had to pace around it being as it was actually a ward spell to keep demons away, and Henry wasn't about to see if it would do the same thing to him again. The path further up was blocked by yet another cave-in of the ceiling that ceaselessly dripped ink through all the debris, and which Henry sighed at the expectant look of the smaller dancing demon. He got to work hacking the woodwork away, going about it more effectively from all the other instances of blockades he'd had to bore through. This time though, the wreckage wasn't as sturdy as the other times, and while Henry could squeeze through, his clothing had snagged on the splintered edges of broken planks and slipped supports out of place, leading to the debris collapsing on top of Bendy. The demon yelped at the sudden collapse being trapped under the heavy debris, broken planks pinning him down, though he wasn't in pain, rather more exasperated than anything. Henry recoiled some at the wreckage so as not to get hurt himself, before moving to try and dig Bendy out. "Bendy! You alright? I'm trying to get you out of there, just hold tight, alright?" He grimaced with concern, which leaked to Bendy and made the demon still in wonder. He still cared for him. Bendy decided to humor the man and let him effort to rescue him from the wreckage.

"Well hurry up, would ya? Splintered wood ain't exactly comfortable when it's jabbing into me."

"I'm trying." Henry huffed pushing the boards aside, soon revealing Bendy's black and white crescent-shaped head, giving the human a guileless expression.

"Heya, big guy~" He smirked almost in amusement.

Henry just slouched with a small smirk back. "You alright?"

"I'm fine, but like I said, this ain't exactly comfortable."

“Teh, of course he's fine, he's made of ink.” Henry remembered, but regardless, he continued to get the debris off of Bendy, being careful so as not to cause another collapse. Soon the wreckage was clear and the little imp pulled himself from the woodwork, before he patted the man's back as a sort of thanks.

"Good man, Henry, thanks for helpin' me out."

"What, did you not expect me to help?" He gave Bendy a curious look before standing. Bendy gave him an equally curious gaze in return. He indeed didn't fully expect the man to bother helping, thinking he'd figure that since he was an ink demon, the wreckage wouldn't hurt him anyway. "It's called compassion and curtsy. You're welcome, bud..." That caused Bendy to blink at him with his smirk faltering, the so called compassion piquing his curiosity more, as well as his confusion. And the address he'd just used, "bud". He figured it was a shortening of buddy, but why was Henry using such friendly words? To him? To a demon who'd been intent on killing him and greedily taking his soul so as to roam the surface free...? He then smirked again with a bemused scoff, Henry really must have been so forgiving, but in this case it was borderline naive.

"Yeah yeah, let's just keep moving, old man." Bendy paced past Henry, getting a snort in response as Henry followed. The way to the next location to get to the next floor up was uneventful and short, just past a spiral of stairs, and into a room baring a barricaded door next to a large shelf, and a chute in the ceiling, one that was tantalizingly right before the exit. And, Henry swore he was hearing things when a muffled tune echoed from above, the same tune he'd heard at the start of this adventure. It filled him with hope, they were so close, it would be the cruelest of cruels if Bendy did anything to set them back now. If said demon did think of any pranks at this moment, he'd be wearing quite the vile expression, but thankfully his gaze was relatively relaxed as he pondered with which path to take to the ground floor. Henry had his eyes fixed up the chute yearning for freedom, while Bendy thought of how to get that dresser out of the way. He'd have to shift into his monster form to move it aside himself, and frankly it wasn't the most demanding of tasks for that, especially since he'd just go right back to his toon form afterwards. He snapped his fingers with an idea, which got Henry's attention, and paced out into the hall. "Hey, guys~ Wally, Susie, Norman~ Come out here for a moment, would ya, please~?" He called with a slight echo of his voice, before going back into the room. The surroundings groaned and shifted with movement, as though Bendy knew the phantoms were nearby the two the whole time, and indeed they were when the ink splotches in the room came to life. Henry moved back with a disgruntled air as one phantom rose from the splotch directly under the chute where he was standing, and like Sammy, they all were 7 or 8ft tall with the same glowing red eyes, dangerous claws, and vaporous aura exuding from their inky bodies.

Henry found that he had to put some distance between himself and the phantoms since their aura made him feel strange, his vision was darkening and sound was becoming uncomfortably acute to his ears while he felt a bit faint and short of breath, almost like what happened when Bendy drew too close back before the demon was quelled. "Yes, my lord?" The phantom closest to Henry spoke with a female voice, kneeling with the other two.

"Would you all be so kind as to move that dresser out of the way? We're trying to get to the ground floor, see." He replied with a smile, prompting the three to nod and move to haul the large dresser aside. Henry hurried out of the way when where he stood was too close to the suffocating aura of the phantoms, and watched them work together to stand the dresser upright and drag it away from the bundle of chairs holding the door shut. It was no surprise that they were strong, baring quite the athletic bodies, and their size was a great asset too. They also got the chairs out of the way, tossing them aside haphazardly with loud clattering. "Thanks, guys! I think that'll be all for now. But meet us upstairs, I wanna talk to everyone before we go." Bendy waved a hand, making the phantoms bow to him and sink into the floorboards.

"Boy, you really do have everything wrapped around your finger here, don't you?" Henry rubbed his neck at how easily Bendy could command the ink creatures here, even ones he'd never seen before.

"Well I am the ink demon, Henry~ Of course I have sovereign to this place." He grinned with a snarky shrug, and went to open the door. It had a bit of snag since being jammed shut for so long, but the little imp's strength was easily enough to jerk it open with a creak of the hinges. The noise reminded Henry just how old this place was, and he followed Bendy through to a stairwell. The stairwell was almost unsurprisingly painted with black ink mostly dried from some attack that Bendy must have done a while ago unto the other staff. It got Henry a bit curious of just how long ago this all might have happened, though Bendy hadn't mentioned a thing about what he did to the other team in any stretch of time. Maybe he needed to be asked, but what if he'd rather not answer? He decided to hold his tongue as he noted the lack of ink staining the stairwell at the turn-about, and glanced up seeing a leaking pipe with a noticeable break in the surface. It must have been where Bendy sprung an ambush on some staff going down the stairs. "And we're back~" Bendy stated opening the door to reveal the oh-so familiar ground floor into the large projector room, complete with ink flooded everywhere still dripping in copious amounts all over the place.

"This place has been burned into my brain; I'll never not be reminded of all this ink and the monsters till the end of my days." Henry griped almost comically with a slouch, making Bendy cackle in amusement.

"Aw, sorry, buddy~ But ya gotta admit, this was definitely the best experience of anyone's life!" He threw his hands in the air happily, grinning widely.

"Best being the most interesting to put it mildly maybe, with extra sugar on top." Henry grumbled, giving the little demon a shrewd expression. Bendy just giggled and turned to take off to the ink machine room, prompting the human to pace after him with a longing glance to the exit door. He frowned a bit wondering how he was going to get over that large trap door in the way, hoping Bendy would help in some manner. His eyes looked forward when he heard excited chatter further ahead, figuring Bendy had greeted his wolf friend, and continued on crossing his arms, soon enough coming into the ink machine room. It was a bit hard to hear the two over the loud workings of the machine that still streamed ink from the large nozzle-like orifice, while his appearance drew the attention of the two toons.

"Henry! You're still alive!" Boris exclaimed joyously as he went to hug the human like a happy dog, lifting Henry off the floor effortlessly. Needless to say Henry nervously yelped a bit at the sudden show of... Affection? He most certainly wasn't expecting to get a hug of all interactions from the friend of Bendy, especially since Bendy had mentioned that Boris was on his side, which meant that the wolf wouldn't be apposed to Henry succumbing to any form of harm, and presumably death either.

"Uh... H-Heya, Boris!" He smirked in a disgruntled manner, stumbling back some when he was released, obviously having been completely taken off guard by what he thought was a being just as malevolent as the rest of them.

"I'm so happy you're still around, buddy!" The wolf clasped his hands together, almost looking genuinely relieved at Henry's continued existence.

"Y-Yeah, me too." The man rubbed his head to help ease himself into a more light-hearted state of mind, slowly figuring that Boris really didn't mean any harm this time, probably because of Bendy. But he couldn't help but still be wary, these cartoons were made to be of the sort that didn't maintain virtue for long after all. "Uh, what do you guys say we get out of this loud room and somewhere I can hear ya better?" He pointed a thumb back towards the projector room.

"Oh, well sure thing, Henry!" Boris agreed, still happily, and the three went back to the quieter area of the workshop, albeit Boris and Bendy looked more to be dancing along the way, which made Henry smirk a bit at their friendship, watching the two prance ahead chortling. They almost seemed even more friends than the cartoon made them out to be. Henry supposed it was due to them being alive now, with their own souls and personalities. Which subsequently made the man feel a little sorry for Boris having to be stuck here while he and Bendy were able to go free, but maybe he'd be okay with the duty of guarding the studio.

"Uh... Oh, there you two are." Henry said when he came into the large room seeing the two toons down the hall to the exit, having put a large board down over the chute so they could get across. Boris looked back at the human and waved at him.

"Yeah, you guys need a safe way to get outta here, don't ya?" The wolf turned and went back to Henry, followed by Bendy, who let out a short whistle to call the phantoms. Henry took the time to sit in the chair beside the stand-alone table, turning his eyes to the row of large rotating reels on the wall while the four phantoms emerged from the ink.

"Alright, guys, I got good news and bad news. But it might not be so bad." Bendy started, pointing a proclaiming finger to the group. "Good news is, I'm finally free to leave this place thanks to Henry." He extended a hand to the human, who looked back at the little demon. "Bad news is, I'm the only one who can... Henry now anchors me to the surface, but the rest of you are still bound here by the ink machine."

Boris lowered his ears a bit as Bendy looked up at him. "So we gotta stay here then..."

"Unfortunately, buddy... But I promise, we'll come back and visit you guys often!" Bendy raised his hands in the air with an optimistic smile. "And I even thought up an idea for you to uphold. Henry said he anticipated some punks to come around and try to dilapidate this home of ours, so I want ya'll to protect this here studio, seeing as it's what keeps you alive too." He kept his smile when the ink creatures nodded to him, and turned his eyes to the phantoms. "And you guys be sure to keep Boris company while I'm gone, yeah?"

"Yes, my lord." The four replied in unison, bowing obediently.

"And you can be sure I'll tell ya all about the interesting stuff I come across out there, okay, buddy?" Bendy held his hips as he turned his smile to Boris, who nodded happily. "And maybe we'll find some way to get you outta here too, Boris. Maybe even you guys too." The phantoms tilted their heads at the little imp. "It ain't fair to keep you all trapped here forever. I'll find some solution."

Boris nodded again with his tail wagging. "Alright, Bendy. But have some fun in the meantime, we'll take care of things here."

"I will. Oh and uh, fair warning, don't go down into the basements, please... That monster is still down there, and it would break me if any of you got snatched up by it..." The demon rubbed his head while looking away, hoping this was the last time he'd have to bring up the ink eater.

"We'll stay up here if'n it stays in the basements, don't worry, buddy." The wolf smiled sympathetically, getting a satisfied grin from the ink demon. And while Henry accepted them as living creatures, he frowned knowing that realistically, the outside world would not be so lenient with them. They were all demons as far as anyone else was concerned, and this was a concern Henry held true to; Bendy was a true devil, which meant he was liable to act like one... Henry was spared his wrath, but he could still be just as freely homicidal as ever, and he was virtually impossible to stop. Even now, Bendy probably wouldn't take no for an answer to getting out of the studio, he was no doubt sick of being here, and now that he could leave, by damn he was gonna do it.

"Well, Bendy, you ready to face the outside world?" Henry asked, getting a nod from the dancing demon, and which he pulled himself to his feet.

"Ah, you lucky devil, Bendy!" Boris laughed, patting the imp's back before walking with the two to the exit.

"Indeed, I can't wait to see what's out there." Bendy replied with an inquisitive grin as he walked over the plank, which creaked lowly from his weight. Henry heard said creaking with a cautious leer, and proceeded to follow a beckoning wave of Bendy's hand once the demon was across the chute, but the creaking sounded again, louder this time with the heavier weight, and the board then simply snapped. Henry yelped as he was suddenly yanked down by gravity, finally losing his grip on the axe, but Boris moved quickly to catch his arm and smack the man into the chute wall. The human grunted at the impact and breathed heavily with trepidation, hearing the axe clatter to the floor below, while Bendy snickered and started laughing deeply.

"Don't worry, Henry, I gotcha!" The wolf assured before proceeding to pull Henry up with rather surprising strength. Henry clambered back onto the floor with nervous panting, before turning a glare back at Bendy, who was doubled over chortling his dang butt off.

Henry could only let out a growling sigh at the sight of the derisive demon. "Thank you, Boris." The wolf nodded as they both stood, before Boris then wrapped his arms around Henry. "Whoa uh, what-?" Henry uttered in confusion before he was leapt across the pit with Boris with a nervous gasp. Bendy kept laughing until they were across, and which he started to calm down.

"Hahahahahahahahahah! Heeheeheehaahahahahahahah~! Aahhhahahaho boy, ahahahah, ah I guess that board wasn't as sturdy as it looked, ey~?" He giggled with inky tears in his eyes, holding himself up partially with a hand on the doorknob, amused with Henry's exasperated posture.

"I would not be surprised if that was just another prank to you..." Henry uttered rubbing his face, before crossing his arms. "But there's not a lot of space over here, so if we could get a move on?"

Bendy wiped the inky tears from his eyes with an amused grin and nodded, watching Boris hop back over the pit before opening the door, which led into a short stairwell going up and into a sort of lounge area. It wasn't much more fixed up than the workshop, but instantly the suffocating stench of ink was replaced almost wholly with fresh oxygen, which almost literally hit Henry like a wall. He started breathing in large gulps of air, and he wasn't even outside yet, but the cleaner air was already working in cleansing his lungs and even his bloodstream of the fumes of the ink he'd been intaking for hours on end. Bendy watched him curiously of just how narcotic fresh oxygen really was to a human who was being deprived of it for so long, in which case he was slightly surprised that Henry lasted so long well enough breathing in the smell of nothing but musty old building, dust, and ink fumes. Henry soon got a sufficient intake of clean air, and moved on to the exit door, seeing only a soft light leaking in from under the door, and his internal clock seemed to instinctually flip on again, telling him it was sometime dusk. Bendy glanced back at the stairs leading into the workshop, hoping Boris and the phantoms would be okay for the most part, and he looked back hearing the door creak open.

It was indeed night, baring a clear starry sky and a full moon. The fresh cool air hit Henry again and made him smile to finally be out of that inky hellhole, while Bendy looked around in wonder, curious of all the new colors. They weren't as obnoxious and bright as he'd imagined, but he could now see things in hues besides black and grey, and sepia to some degree. "This is the outside world, Henry?" He sounded so wonder-stricken, it almost amused the man.

"Yup, bud, this is the outside world." He smiled up at the moon, missing its beautiful glow, while Bendy looked up at him, curious of that friendly address to him. Safe to say, Bendy was going to be incredulous of being referred to as any variation of 'buddy' by Henry for a while. But also safe to say, they had plenty of time to form a real friendship.

[demonsheyd500025]

Ascending the Ink Pit p.1

"So, how do you presume we get through this mess?" Henry asked his smaller companion with his arms crossed, standing before a collapsed section of the ceiling, ink ceaselessly leaking heavily from the hinged broken angle. Bendy simply shrugged as Henry looked at him.

"Why do you expect me to be the thinker?"

"Well you've been here for years, I figure you'd know the layout of this place like the back of your hand."

"You'd think, wouldn't ya? Sorry, Henry, but honestly I've never been down here before you arrived."

"Really?" Henry's expression turned from expectant to puzzled.

"Yup. Haven't you noticed? The design of most everything down here is a little different from upstairs; it all was constructed post-haste, just for you~"

Henry stared at the ink demon with wonder, not sure how to feel about the statement. "... Uh, okay then. But then shouldn't you know where everything is then?"

Bendy shrugged again, going into a somewhat snarky pose. "I wasn't down here long enough to memorize everything. But come on, Henry, you've got an axe! You know what to do with it when a bunch of wood's in your way!" He started skipping from one foot to the other almost dance-like in encouragement, grinning widely. The spontaneous motions made Henry curious, before he turned his view to the wreckage, and decided to try his luck with smashing the debris to pieces. His main concern with clearing a way through what was broken was if he wouldn't just make the predicament worse, or worse yet, he could rattle the damage and cause it to collapse on top of him; only luck would have it at that point if he was able to avoid any severe injuries or not. He tried to ignore the ink dripping upon his head and arms as he thwacked the woodwork, having to compensate for the cramped space by crouching and swinging the axe in a relatively awkward arc. But it got the job done soon enough, and save for the precarious splintered edge, there now was a hole to scuttle through. "See? You did it, Henry!" Bendy gave a congratulatory jazzhands. "And you were doubtin' me~"

Henry rolled his eyes at the enthusiasm before carefully crawling through the hole, just glad that his concerns didn't happen this time. "Ah shut up, ya smart alec." He smirked though as he pushed a barrel out of the way, and stood easily, patting his clothes down. The amount of ink stains on him reminded him just how long he'd been down here, or at least too long for sure; a number of hours was too sketchy to guesstimate. It could even be days at this point for all he knew. Bendy followed him through the hole and looked around at the ink covered room before them, frowning when he recalled what had happened here... He shook his head to rid the ink eater from his mind, pervasive as it was, he was beginning to hate the damn thing and its terms. "Bendy, you alright?" Henry inquired, noticing the troubled gestures from the little ink demon as he gazed down at him.

"Yeah, just... Trying to forget the events of these last couple of floors." Bendy waved a hand dismissively, before pacing onward, his mind sidetracking to when he chased Henry around in this room. He couldn't help but smirk mischievously at the memory, it was quite fun, especially since Henry reacted just the way he anticipated. Henry on the other hand felt a bit disgruntled recalling the same event. How Bendy was tearing after him was probably the most freaked out he'd been thus far, he could practically still see the images of when he glanced back at the homicidal demon, how murderous he looked... Though when he looked down at Bendy now, the little imp seemed like he could do hardly more than prank you to your nerve's breaking point. His monster form definitely wasn't one to take lightly, but hopefully there no longer was a need for Bendy to reform to it. "You doin' alright in this darkness, Henry?" Bendy asked, breaking the human from his train of thought.

"Oh uh, yeah. My eyes are used to it by now. But now that you mention it, was it always this dark down here?" He rubbed his head in wonder as he looked around the dank and dreary environment, focusing back on any little hazards in their path. "I could have sworn it was more lit up coming down."

"You're not wrong." Henry looked down at him again, locking eyes with Bendy. "All the light coming from spontaneous locations, some where it kinda shouldn't have been. Don'tcha remember Alice? She was providing all that illumination for you, and we kept getting in each other's way."

"... What do you mean by that?"

"She was the one helping you escape me for the first couple of encounters, when I was eager to play havoc on you. And I had to compensate for her meddling to keep my plans going. As time went on, I became more accustomed to toying with you, letting you escape on purpose. Though, if you'd slipped up and died early, it only meant that we couldn't play anymore." He shrugged, though it disturbed Henry a fair bit. So Bendy really was going off of the instincts of a sadistic predator; he wasn't giving the pursuits his all, and he could have easily been killed at any time... "I'm a demon, Henry, I can't see how you couldn't have figured that I wouldn't hold myself back if there was no benefit for me to do so..." Bendy's grin turned a tad sinister, before he shifted to a light-hearted pose, spreading his arms out with a joyous smile. "But that's in the past, I'm your pally pal now, Henry! I won't try to kill ya anymore, promise~"

Henry only made a perturbed expression at the little ink demon, baffled at how easily he could swing between strict facades. Bendy shrugged the look off and carried on, while Henry stood for a moment in thought before following so as not to lose him. Ironically, the studio seemed a little smaller when they didn't have to commit time to puzzles and backtracking for things, though the black ink that was bleeding through almost every single crevice made the feeling somewhat claustrophobic, and the suffocating darkness wasn't helping either. Henry had his axe and a powerful ink demon for a companion, yet he still didn't feel much safer. The only instances that allowed him to let up the unease was Bendy offering his iconic enthusiasm, though every now and then along the trek, he could hear faint music reverberating off the walls. And he figured Bendy could hear it too, since he'd start nodding his head slightly when the music came up. Henry wasn't sure to take the music as a good thing or a bad thing; he wasn't sure just how the dancing demon reacted to it. Either way, it probably meant that they were getting closer to the above floors, the silence and periodic music only disrupted by the sound of Henry's axe clearing paths through fallen ceilings and whatnot. Henry also noted the lack of enemies, or maybe Bendy was leading the way around them for the most part, or maybe they simply weren't concerned with him anymore, or maybe Bendy's presence was keeping them at bay.

Whatever the case, the studio had a hold on his fear like a leech, and only now when his business with Bendy was done with was he allowed to make his way out. He'd completely forgotten what the outside air felt like anymore, but before he could start reveling in the artificial sensual fabrication, he had to focus on getting to his destination. Bendy led the way through the corridors, occasionally seeing shadowy figures slinking through the halls. They seemed to be avoiding detection from Henry, but Bendy knew who they were... It didn't stop Henry from feeling like he was being watched in the most unsettling way possible. All he could do was try to suppress it and keep up with Bendy, he had some fraction of comfort with the little imp after all.

"... H e n r y..." A whispered voice that didn't belong to Bendy suddenly sounded, causing Henry to pause and look back, subconsciously shivering from the ghastly sound.

"... D'you hear that, Bendy?" He scanned around as Bendy hummed in wonder to him. "Something called my name just now..."

"Could be ghosts, Henry~" The little devil smirked in amusement at him.

"Ghosts...? Well, I guess if demons exist, it could be ghosts." He slightly chuckled trying to settle his unease.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Bendy quirked a brow line at the human, though his tone was rhetorical. "There's nothin' that's gonna bother us, Henry. Come on, we're getting close to the next floor up. Finally." He waved a hand beckoningly as he continued on, although he was amused at Henry's perception of the phantoms going around. Henry went along with Bendy, growing a little nervous with the thought that spirits may be calling him now. He glanced behind them frequently, and when he looked forward, Bendy out of nowhere jumped at him with a mischievous cry. "Henry!" This caused the human to yelp and fall back, grunting while the imp sat on his chest with a snarky grin, then going into cruel laughter. Bendy held his stomach with glee as Henry covered his face with an exasperated growl.

"Bendyyyyy... Why do you do this to me...?" He wasn't sure to scowl or smirk at the shenanigans; it was in Bendy's nature to do these things, but hadn't he had enough with the jumpscares, for pity's sake? Bendy only laughed deeply with small tears in his eyes, cracking his eyes open to glimpse Henry's expression, which was sternly concealing amusement, but that only made the demon laugh more, flopping back with a hand to his head. Henry bent his legs up for Bendy, smirking more at the light-hearted sound of the laughter. Admittedly it lifted some of the tension of the atmosphere, while his heartbeat slowly calmed down again. "... You are such a little punk, you know that?"

"Hahahahahahah! Sorry, Henry, I couldn't resist~" He giggled, his expression turning sheepish as he calmed down.

"I know you can't, but that's why you were loved." Henry laid his hands over his chest as he gazed at Bendy like he was a mere child having fun. Morbid fun, but still.

"Eheh..." Bendy looked back at Henry with a look of both curiosity and reminiscence, before glancing to the side. "Yeah, the good ol' days... But hey, entertainment still exists just like back then, we just gotta make it popular again." He raised his hands encouragingly with an optimistic smile.

"Teh, good luck with that tall order, buddy. People have changed since thirty years ago, and invoking joy out of a collective audience isn't as easy as it used to be with old time shticks."

"Right. So then we'll find current time shticks and mix some of the old time stuff with them, that'll work, right?"

"Aah, maybe. Some people do still enjoy vintage entertainment afterall. We might get lucky and lure in enough of them if'n we bring enough good stuff to the table."

"Oh you can be sure I'll keep an eye out for the best stuff~" Bendy winked before hopping off of Henry's abdomen, allowing the man to pull himself back up to his feet, ink now caking his back, but he didn't really care anymore. He did notice that while spending time with Bendy that the ink demon wasn't always so bloodthirsty, and he did enjoy harmless fun when he wasn't hellbent on destroying something. It was a nice image for the little dancing devil; hard to imagine that he came from Henry's imagination once upon a time, with no trace of actual black-heartedness. But that was only what he knew of...

"Also, Bendy, the only way I recall up is through a two-story vertical chute. How do we get back up to the 3rd basement floor?"

"Hmm... I have an idea." Bendy smirked mysteriously, which made Henry quirk a brow at him, before trekking onward. Henry followed him wondering what he had planned, looking around along the way seeing all the puzzle components he went through. Now that they were all done with, they were kind of fun in retrospect, save for Bendy being the only real one out for his blood the whole time, but other than that threat, this journey would be quite the interesting story for future generations of his. "Alright, we're here." Bendy announced, looking up through the shaft that connected to the above floor. "Now let's see if I remember how to do this." He spoke to himself as he went to the corners where puddles of ink rested and scooped up some of it like it was mud, and plopped it down under the chute, before starting to draw lines around himself with the black liquid. It turned out he was creating another pentagram.

Henry watched quietly, becoming curious how this pentagram had some different symbols and runes than what he typically saw of them, also that it didn't seem to be upside down from Bendy's facing direction. Maybe they really did work differently depending on how they were drawn. "... So, you're-"

"Shh..." Bendy hissed, stopping Henry from breaking his concentration. The runes weren't the easiest to recite, and he didn't need a question interrupting his focus and making him mess up. Henry decided to hold his tongue until the demon was finished, crossing his arms and twirling the axe in idle. When the pentagram was done, Bendy moved to spread the ink pile out some, and uttered some alchemic word before starting to pull a pair of stalks out of the ink. They seemed to be made of the stuff as a prong connected them the more they were pulled up. Henry then realized that the prongs were a ladder that Bendy was pulling up from what he could only assume to be Hell magic out of the pentagram, dropping his arms and moving closer to look up the chute as the ladder rose higher to the other end. "Henry, could you step off the linework...?" Bendy warned, pausing his pulling of the ladder, as it'd become shaky and unstable in his hands.

"Oh uh, sorry." He stepped off the rim of the symbol, seeing that his footprint had scuffed the runes slightly, but thankfully they still worked.

"I don't think you'd wanna know how peeved I'd be if you smeared this pentagram and caused this ladder to collapse."

"Sorry, sorry." Henry slanted his brows back while holding his hands up, not meaning to upset the little devil. "I'll wait till you're done."

"Thanks." He responded curtly and resumed pulling the ladder from the symbol, soon reaching it up to the top of the chute. He then stood and faced Henry. "Now it's done. Come on, up we go. It'll stay together as long as I'm touching it."

"Um, you first." He gave a vague smirk, feeling like Bendy was still slightly annoyed with him accidentally scuffing the pentagram.

"Me first? What, are you afraid that I'd deliberately let go just to collapse all this ink on you?" Bendy tilted his head at Henry's somewhat accusatory expression. "... Fine, as you wish." He shrugged and started climbing the ladder, soon followed by the slightly skeptical human. Henry was a bit surprised that the ink ladder was able to support him, though a few of the step prongs did bend at his weight, likely from the runes being made imperfect, which unsettled him, but they both got to the top. Bendy held onto a prong to let Henry get up, and let go once the ladder was no longer needed, watching the ink making it up collapse like a waterfall with a resonating splatter from below. Henry watched as well, before following Bendy through the rest of the way up the floors of the studio.

Shortly after the two left though, some shadowy figures climbed their way out of the shaft with little sound and slinked along after the pair. They were humanoid, and seemed to be made of black ink and some hazy substance, moving in fluid blurs with luminescent red eyes, and following the faint echo of music. However, when the four ventured into a larger room from the hall, the leading figure looked to the side seeing a strange large shape on the floor, pausing the pack to observe it almost curiously. The mass was the ink eater, though its eye was laying against the body, the legs pulled in with only the blue claws sticking out, and the tails wrapped around the body. It appeared to be asleep, though of course it didn't breathe or shift otherwise, but being near the creature seemed to unsettle the four phantoms, as they glanced to each other for a moment. Not wanting to rile the demon, the four resumed their following of Bendy and Henry with quiet movement, soon catching up to the two and kept out of sight for the most part.

[the-writers-bookshelf]

Happy Fab Friday! Today I'm sending in more of my work on the tabletop campaign setting I've been working on. This excerpt is basically some in-universe writing I've been indulging myself in as a means to better define the feel of a region, in this case the dangerous Red Expanse - part desert, part poisoned wasteland. Eventually I will give the writer a name and probably have them pop up as an NPC or just a name for the author of books the PCs might find :)

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The people of the Red Expanse are few and scattered across the unforgiving terrain of that desolate land. Yet still, they persist. Few of my readers will be personally aware of the extent of the perils of this world, and fewer still will have braved perils close to those of this poisoned stretch of the Latter Earth. Furthermore, even researching historical dangers is difficult, as even external oral histories do not carry much in the way of information that matches with the scant scraps of details that have been preserved. But I, ever your servant, have attempted to best describe and catalog the region and its curiosities as best I can.

To begin with, the region gets its name from the ever-present red haze that stains the sky and often the ground as well. It is not well understood what causes it, but it seems that for some reason or another that I shall leave to seasoned arcanologists and xenologists to bicker over, the Legacy’s containment and cleanup protocol has partially failed here. The haze itself is not directly toxic to humans, though it can leave toxic byproducts in the soil that inhibit the growth of plant life and taint water, which will sicken humans and animals if not properly treated. This also leaves a reddish tint to the soil, and generally the heavier the tint, the greater the contamination. On occasion, high winds and storms can kick up large clouds of this tainted earth, and so it is highly recommended that any who try to travel through the Expanse wear some sort of filter mask and eye protection.

In addition to the dangers of the haze, there are other, stranger phenomena that should give pause when exploring these lands. Some adventurer testimony, partially corroborated by fragmentary records from before the end of the Outsiders’ Reign, tell of the region holding several alien cities, possibly even built upon the ruins of older human settlements. It seems that there is evidence of some ancient war, and the remnants of that conflict still plague the region. Autonomous war machines, alien eidolons, plagues of living smoke that tear the flesh from your bones, monstrous beasts and other horrors lurk among the crumbling bones of long dead cities.

Storms stranger than simple tropical storms or toxic dust ravage the land from time to time. I’ve only ever seen one of these myself, and it was an ordeal, to say the least. The storm, and I can only call it that by stretching the word’s definition quite liberally, was one of darkness and psychic suppression. Ink blot bubbles slowly burbled from the depths of the earth, chilling all around them as they ascended to the heavens. They were not cold enough to cause damage, but it was a chill that cut to the bone, nonetheless. Furthermore, they seemed to have a sedative effect on those they touched, causing the afflicted to fall asleep while wracked with shivers and chills. When once more coaxed awake, we were told the sleepers had clung to the faded remnants of dreams of deepest oceans and darkest voids.

The animals of the Expanse are also quite strange, to say the least. Small insects, arthropods, and mammals similar to those found in a desert burrow through the soil near hardy shrubs and lichens. It seems that these hardy creatures, perhaps once pests in the larger city centers, make up the largest percentage of the larger creatures I have seen. Some are venomous or prone to swarm, but they are hardly the most dangerous of the flora or fauna in the region. A few of the more notable examples include the pit-crawlers, dire vultures, and the skewers.

Pit-crawlers are insectoid predators roughly the size of a wolverine and can be just as vicious with their oversized serrated jaws. They are reported to have disproportionately large mandibles and antennae for their size. They dig into loose sandy soil and wait for their prey to approach. When it detects vibrations from movement, it quickly erupts into an ambush, aiming to cripple its target and drag it into the nest tunnels it digs. It is not quite sure what exactly happens to victims down there, but it is almost assuredly a fate one would wish to avoid. Some strains seem to have venom, with some reports claiming the toxin will paralyze its victims.

Dire vultures are creatures with a misnomer that has stuck simply because they seem to fill a similar role to their more mundane namesake. From my investigations, research and discussions with other scholars, they seem similar to creatures known as pterosaurs, if not a bit stockier and more muscular. These reptilian creatures are large, aggressive and are common sights around creatures and people who have perished in the Expanse. They do not tend to attack hale and hearty humans in a group, instead preferring to pick off weakened or lone targets if they must actually hunt. They much prefer carrion and will be aggressive in defending their claimed meals from others, including those of their own kind.

The skewers are strange beasts, appearing to be some form of primate roughly the size of a child of five to ten years of age, with the females tending to be larger than the males. They seem to have similar intelligence to human children, being quick and clever. Skewers, like many smaller primates, live in pack structures with a loosely defined hierarchy. For all intents and purposes, they may be some creatures far from their jungle homes, lost in the waste like many people. However, there is a vicious cruelty to them. Be it some change from living in the Red Expanse, some Sorcerer-King’s ancient pet project, or Outsider tampering, I do not know. What is known, however, is that they hunt their prey savagely, using stones, branches, fists and teeth to subdue their prey. When they succeed, they will then drag them back to the pack’s home, typically centered around a large thorn-structure. These may be crumbled ruins with jagged steel pointing in all directions, twisted trees with branches turned to cruel barbs, or more worryingly, constructed with stone and stolen metal. They will then impale their prey upon the spikes, eating from them as they please like grotesque fruits. If the victim is lucky, they will expire upon being impaled.

submitted by @aurelianpen

This. is. SO BADASS!! I love it!!!

....man, I just sat here for like 5 minutes straight thinking, "I wanna write something cool like this." XD

Keep up the FANTASTIC work!!! :D