#joey and the motherfuckin ink machine
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Thatās The Thing About Dreams- Chapter 1
A/N: holy fucking shit why. Why am i doing this nobody asked for this
What the fuck
uuuuuuuUUUUUUGGGGHHHHHH iām actually doing this
Iām almost 90% sure this idea already exists somewhere, but I canāt find it. If anyone knows who the fuck first made it then please tell me so i can direct people there. If not then holy shit i had an original idea????? (hahahahahahaha yeah no.)
Anyways, I donāt quite have any good names for this fucking fic so prepare for utter and complete BS no matter what I settle on. I mean, the entirety of this fucking AU is just summed up with the words What If Joey Got DraftedĀ (iāve officially called it the Animator Reversal Au but that sounds dumb) (someone with creativity: help) (the title is shit. sorry.)
And finally, i have no fucking skill in writing certain things. You know, like a proper intro and all that jazz. So i apologize ahead of time. Iāll probably go back later and edit this. maybe. whenever i can open my eyes for a minute.
Here is the ff.net link.
Enjoy.
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āJoey? You doing alright?ā Henry leaned into his friendās office, but froze.
The man was sitting at his desk, staring at the wall. A letter laid loftily on top of all the varied sketches and designs that were scattered across the overused workspace. An inkwell had been tipped over, the ink dripping lightly into a puddle. As Henry spoke, he turned and stood, shoving all the paper further up on the desk.
āAh! Henry! Yes, yes, Iām doing fine. I was just taking a break, as a matter of fact. Care to join me?ā
Henry frowned. Something was off, but he couldnāt quite tell what. āYeahā¦ā
āGreat! Come on.ā
Joey walked off, but Henry stayed in the doorway, staring at the desk. Soon he found himself pulling down one fold of the letter, and scanning it. He knew it would probably be fine- Joey read most of the letters he got.
As he read, though, his face went pale. He folded the letter, slipped it back on top of the other paper, and walked to the break room.
This probably wasnāt going to end well.
****************
Within twenty minutes, Joey was slumped in a chair in the break room, and already the contents of the letter were out and already spread through at least three floors of the studio.
āYou? You are getting drafted.ā
Joey sighed. āYes, Iām pretty sure thatās what it said.ā
Henry shifted in his seat. As soon as heād made it down to the break room, heād pulled Joey aside and asked him about the letter. Of course, in an animation studio with this many people and only one break room every three floors, there were at least two people taking their breaks no matter when you checked. And it just so happened that Sammy was taking his break in the ground floor break room.
Currently, the music director was leaning against the wall, eyes shut. āSo now what?ā
āYeah, now what?ā Wally, sitting in a chair propped by the doorway, looked up. āHowās this supposed to work out? Itās already crazy enough with you here- if you leave, I donāt think weāre gonna be able to keep this place in one piece.ā
A chorus of agreements filled the room from the various staff who had already made their way upstairs. Susie had been one of the first, and instantly she began firing off questions one after the other- but as more and more people arrived, itād just gotten louder and louder- until finally Sammy got everyoneās attention and forced most of them to go back to work. Quite a few remained, though, and they were finally using up the chairs that had been haphazardly placed in the break room.
Something that Joey didnāt really enjoy, butā¦.
āSo, how many days?ā
āFour. Four days.ā He put his head in his hands. āAnd just when I had the perfect ideaā¦ā
āWhat, you were gonna give me a raise?ā Several people chuckled, and Joey raised his head just enough to glare at Sammy for a moment.
āSeriously, though, what are we going to do? Are we going to take a hiatusā¦?ā
Silence. Then, Joey shook his head. āNo, no stopping now. Weāve gotten this far- even if Iām not going to be here, things shouldnāt stop here.ā He stood. āAlright, hereās the plan- Henry is officially in charge.ā The animator blinked as Joey pointed at him. āBut, Sammy- youāre in charge of making sure Henry doesnāt screw up anything major. You know what, Franks- youāre also in charge of Henry.ā
āHell, just put everyone else in charge of Henry and call it a day,ā Thomas muttered.
Henry groaned from his seat. āYou donāt trust me to run this place, yet you call me the co-owner.ā
āDonāt worry. I knew you didnāt want to really do anything business wise, so Iām pushing it on them.ā
āAnd youāre the one who spent an outrageous amount of money on a whole toy factory, but Iām the untrustworthy oneā¦ā
āHey, that toy factoryās got a nice profit.ā
āAnd I donāt?ā
*******************
Three more days saw Joey Drew on his knees, tracing ink onto the floor slowly and carefully with one hand, the other set against an open book.
Finally, he finished, and stood, picking the book up.
A fully drawn pentagram laid on the floor, still gleaming and fresh. It was surrounded by lit candles and a ton of uncapped, full inkwells.
Joey took a deep breath, bringing the book closer. He only had a little bit of time left. If this worked, it could keep the studio afloat while he was gone. It would last long enough for him to come back. Because he would come back. (He had to think he would because if he thought he might then that left room for doubt and that meant he believed, at least a little, that he could very much die out there and bleed out in a foreign place with nobody recognizable in sight and all his dreams stuck in his head where nobody can reach them-)
Joey would return.
He reopened the book, flipping to the correct page. The page heād handwritten, having used well over thirty different books as a reference. The entire book was basically one giant reference for the varied things he wanted to do.Some pages filled with pentagrams, some with character sketches, some with rants and ramblings about anything he could think of.
Due to one of the thoughts heād had when writing, it had the thought provoking title of The Illusion of Living sketched on with a bit of white pencil. Not that it would ever be published, of course.
Joey paused for a moment- allowing the doubt to seep in. Itās not going to work. Itās going to go wrong. Something doesnāt feel right.
Then. he shook his head. No, this would go right. It had to.
He took another breath and began chanting. As he spoke, he noticed the lines on the circle beginning to darken- and then the ink moved. He stuttered, nearly botching a word, but managed to catch himself and continue.
The ink pulled itself from the inkwells, gathering in a point in the middle of the circle. It began to rise, forming a shaky pillar that nearly reached Joeyās shoulders. As Joey spoke the final words, it sunk back down slightly- and began to form a definitive shape.
Joey finished the chant- and the ink paused.
Then it collapsed.
Joey cried out, looking at the page- then put the book down and kneeled next to the circle.
The ink broke the confines of the circle, but remained inanimate. It didnāt move any further, simply remained a pile of ink on the floor.
For a while, Joey waited. Maybe heād said one of the words wrong. Maybe there wasnāt enough ink. Maybe, maybe, maybeā¦
But soon enough, a clock chimed- and he checked his watch. His shoulders sagged.
His time was up. This was his last day in the studio- his last chance. But it hadnāt worked.
He shut the book, and set it back on the desk. Blew out the candles. Then, silently, he walked out, not turning back, leaving the ink puddle on the floor.
He shut the door just as the ink rippled.
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A/N: So for some reason, whenever I think of an actual image of Joey now, all I can see is Cave Johnson. The younger one. The one that thinks heās got all his shit together and he can test on Olympiads and astronauts!!! Yeah that one. Thatās what I imagine Joey looks like. So when I write Joey, I canāt help but imagine this guy that looks a lot like Cave Johnson. If, ya know, Cave failed to raise enough money for Scienceā¢ and had to settle for cartoon business instead. And decided to dabble with magic because he couldnāt afford Scienceā¢. Because you know what, fuck Scienceā¢. what did it ever do for him.
So thereās that.
Anyways thereās probably a million and one errors with this but i cannot care enough to fix anything at this point so
On a side note, i sometimes regret putting certain songs in my playlist.not because i donāt like them, but because i really do not need that mood when writing this story. Like, i love the sound, but i do not need this mood. This is supposed to be a SERIOUS scene, not really silly. Stop making me crack dumb jokes with little taste.
Something serious. Iām pretty sure Henry knew the toy factory existed- where else could the plushies have come from- but never got to see it or anything. Just found out that it was there and was like joey why
So, thereās chapter 1. Who knows when chapter 2 will arrive????.... I sure donāt hahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha sorry
#my writing#batim au#animator reversal au#fuckin#who did it#first#batim#joey and the motherfuckin ink machine#h e h#i am so sorry#please help#fanfiction#that's the thing about dreams#that's the thing about dreams chapter#writing tag#allagenda
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