#manipulation by silly cartoons making silly noises

[generalsmemories]

i can have a normal day and suddenly at 3 AM while I wait for melatonin to kick in i get another epiphany but I'm also left groveling on the ground cause of said epiphany

[conanssummerchild]

writing a fic abt rick having an ed bcs why would i recover when i can just project all my issues onto fictional old men in cartoons and pretend everythings better now ‼️

tw eating disorder, minor self harm and vomit near the end

Morty stopped in the open doorway of the garage, watching Rick who was sat scribbling down some kind of invention idea, or equation, or whatever it was he did when Morty wasn't around, for all Morty knew he might well be writing fanfiction.

An involuntary smile pulled at his lips at the idea of his almost 70 year old genius grandfather spending his free time writing silly little stories at his work bench. What would he even write? Ball Fondlers fanfic? Maybe he wrote about his stoic bird friend, Rick had always been touchy with him and Rick wasn't touchy with anyone.

When Morty focused back on Rick he wasn't writing anymore, the slightly crumpled piece of paper shoved to the side as he fiddled with what looked like a small metal box with a bunch of brightly coloured wires poking out of the sides. A small spark shot out of one of the wires Rick was holding and he cursed loudly, shaking his hand.

"Fuck, Morty, are you just gonna– gonna stand there, or are you gonna pass me the fucking, uh– the thing."

Rick waved his hand in the general direction of the shelf nearest to Morty, but there were so many assorted trinkets on the shelves, Morty had no idea if Rick wanted a wrench, or a hammer, or one of his laser guns, maybe the box was like a new battery for them?

"W-what thing, Rick?"

"The thing, Morty! The fucking– the uh, destornillador."

"What? Rick, I don't know what that means. W-w-what is that?"

"Jeez, Morty, what are they teaching you at that crap school you love so much?" Rick scowled, tossing the box to the side and getting up to grab the screwdriver himself.

"I havent been to school in like a month, Rick!" Morty exclaimed. "And even then I only got to stay for like an hour before you were dragging me out again!"

"Whatever." Rick said with a burp, "School's dumb, Morty. I'll teach you Spanish myself. B-but, uh, not now."

He turned back to his box, done with the conversation, but Morty stayed hovering in the room, remembering what he had come for in the first place.

"Okay, um, w-w-well lunch is ready."

"I'm busy."

Morty sighed, having expected that answer already. "When's the last time you ate, Rick? Or slept? Or... showered?" Morty said, wrinkling his nose a little.

Rick ignored him, pulling at a blue wire.

"Rick!" Morty frowned.

"What, Morty? J-jesus christ, what the fuck do you want?"

"I want you to have lunch with the family."

"And I said no, so screw off."

"Rick, come on, it would make mom so happy."

Rick glared at him, not bothering with an answer.

"...Wouldn't y-you do it for your original Beth if you could?" Morty tried.

Rick slammed the box on the table, causing the thin metallic shell to crack, sparks flying from it, the sudden noise making Morty jump.

"The fuck did you just say?" Rick snarled.

"S-s-sorry!" Morty squeaked. "I didn't m-mean– mean it in a bad way!"

"Get the fuck out." Rick said icily, eyes blazing.

Morty stumbled out of the room, shutting the door behind him to the sound of something crashing. Probably Rick throwing the damaged box across the room.

Morty winced. In his defense he was worried about Rick, and sometimes, depending on his mood, something like that would've gotten Rick to cave, clearly he wasn't feeling so sentimental today, more annoyed and angry.

"What was that about?"

Morty startled a little and turned to see Summer looking at her phone behind him.

"Just, y'know, Rick being... Rick."

"Mhm, pro tip, don't bring up his dead daughter to try and blackmail him into something he hates." Summer drawled. "You can only do that if he's already half convinced, or if he's feeling especially depressed sometimes.

"Summer! That's– that's messed up!"

She quirked an eyebrow. "Oh, yeah, so only you can manipulate grandpa Rick?" Summer scoffed. "God forbid women do anything." She said sarcastically and turned to walk away.

"Wait!" Morty fidgeted with his hands. "Can you... help me? To get him to have lunch w-with us? Please?"

"Yes, but not now. He's already upset so if we double down on trying to get him to eat he's only gonna clam up."

Morty nodded. "I know that– but how do you? You don't spend as much time with Rick as I do."

"Because he's like mom. Who do you think got her to stop drinking before parent-teacher conferences at school?"

"Wow. That's pretty fucked up that you had to do that, though, y'know, Summer."

"Yeah, well, we're the Smiths, Morty. Is anyone in this house not disordered?"

Morty winced at the blunt statement, Rick really was rubbing off on her. But it was kind of true.

"Guess it runs in the family." He muttered

"Guess it does."

---

Morty hadn't been planning on seeing Rick again until the next day. He knew that when Rick got upset he needed his space. Morty didn't quite get it because when he was upset all he wanted was for someone to hug him and tell him everything was going to be okay, but Rick wasn't like him he supposed.

If he was being honest it made him nervous to leave Rick alone in those bad headspaces he got into. Rick was volatile and unpredictable and a borderline danger to himself and often others. He'd walked in on a couple... compromising situations where Rick had had to explain away why he was passed out in his chair or why there was blood on his hands and his lab coat despite being the only person in the room.

Morty pretended to believe him when he said he had been doing a messy dissection experiment or that "This isn't blood, this is Balorkian dust I mixed with red Squanchenite fluid from Planet Squanch, Morty." But truthfully those moments haunted him.

However, he didn't want to invade Rick's space, so he let him be and tried to eat and sleep until Rick emerged like nothing had happened, even though Morty knew what habits of his went on behind those closed doors.

Of course Morty's patience had it's limits, like when two hours after he had left Rick in the garage, angry, there was the sound of something smashing, closely followed by an unmistakable sound that Morty had grown too familiar with since Rick had moved in. The sound of a body thudding to the ground.

He was up from the sofa in a flash, at the garage door before Summer could even put down her phone, flinging it open.

He felt like he couldn't breathe, but the only sight that greeted him was a smashed bottle and rick lying on the floor next to it, not looking any more dead than usual, looking up at Morty blearily, cracking a smile.

"Oh, hi Morty. H-hey buddy." He slurred, clearly drunk out of his mind.

"Jesus fucking christ, Rick." Morty said weakly.

"What happened?" Summer breathed, now standing at his side.

"He's just drunk." Morty muttered, wrinkling his nose at the overpowering smell that he hadn't registered before between his state of panic and shallow breathing.

Summer ventured into the garage, picking up an empty bottle and sniffing it. "God, grandpa Rick, what the hell are you drinking in here, fucking rubbing alcohol?"

"Sum-Sum! 'M just having some– some fun drinks. Fun drinks just a lil' bit. Besides I only ever drank rub-rubbin' alcohol once, n' it was– tasted like shit."

"What? I was being sarcastic, why would you drink that?"

"Because I was sad... was sad 'nd lonely after B-b-blood Ridge, couldn't find anythin' else. But 'm not s-sad now."

"What's Blood Ridge?" Summer frowned, "Actually it doesn't matter right now, you need to sober up."

"Get him some water," Morty interjected. "I'll clean up the glass. I also know where he keeps all his hangover serums and stuff, but he told me not to let you into any of his drug stashes."

"Fair enough." Summer shrugged, leaving to get Rick some much needed water.

While she was gone, Morty felt along the wall until he found the small hidden panel under Rick's desk. He fished out the light blue vial of fluid for hangovers, the red one he'd forced Rick to make that would sober him up and a green one that basically equivalated to getting your stomach pumped if you took it, just in case he'd taken more than just alcohol.

He shut the panel securely and placed the three coloured vials on Rick's work bench, grabbing a purple tube-like gadget from a shelf. He pressed a button on the back of it and typed in "Broken Glass" on a small hologram keyboard that emerged, then pressed that first button again. A blue ray shot out, scanning the garage, and the pieces of smashed bottle disappeared in a matter of seconds.

Morty looked over at Rick, who was still lying on the floor, but now he was tracing his fingers along a crack in the cold ground, his expression so solemn he almost looked sober.

"Rick?" Morty asked hesitantly.

"I miss her." He said flatly. "I miss her s-so much."

His words were still a little slurred but his tone had lost all the previous levity.

"I tried to save her, Morty, I t-t-tried, but I couldn't bring her back. And no one could ever replace her." A rough sob escaped his throat. Morty felt frozen. "I'm a crappy fuckin'– piece of shit father but I didn't want to be. I was gonna fuckin' give– give up everything for them, and I would've been happy. I would've been so happy as long as I had them, but he fuckin' took that from me! I nnever even got a chance."

Rick was crying, he was crying so hard that his tears stained the concrete dark grey and snot ran down his face sideways. He was shaking like a leaf and gasping for air.

Morty crouched down next to him, fists clenching and unclenching, unsure if he should hug Rick, or if that would make it worse. What else could he do?

"Oh– oh shit, Rick, I–"

"My little girl, my baby." Rick continued between sobs. "She meant everything to me. S-so yeah, I would be better f-for her if I could, but she's gone. There's no point."

Rick's sudden fit of violent sobs was calming down, replaced by a look that Morty could only describe as pure hoplessness and defeat washing over his features.

"'S no point in anything."

Shit, this was bad. Rick didn't admit defeat, and he certainly didn't talk so openly about his feelings like this.

"Aw jeez, Rick, come on don't– don't– don't say that. we killed Rick Prime, remember?" Morty said, wringing his hands anxiously.

"Yeah, I remember." Rick said, tone now devoid of emotion. "I remember killin' him with my bare hands, watchin' the life drain out of his eyes as his blood dripped down my fists. And I remember nothing changing. W-w-what d'ya do when you achieve your life long goal and nothin's better? It didn't bring them back, it didn't– didn't give me closure or give me a reason to live. I still can't sleep, petrified he's in the fucking house, comin' for my new family, that he'll kill all of you to teach me that t-that's what happens when I-I care about people."

Rick wiped his face with his lab coat sleeve, rubbing away the snot, drool and dried tears while Morty just kneeled next to him, frozen and unsure what to say.

"Rick..." he started but then Summer stepped through the doorway and Rick's demeanour instantly changed.

"Summerfest!" he called out and Morty watched, a little shocked, as Rick's whole face changed in the blink of an eye, going back to the cheerful, goofy expression he'd been wearing when he and Summer first came in. It didn't look artificial to Morty at all, even now that he knew it was. How could Rick just switch it on and off just like that?

"I brought water and coffee." Was all Summer said, placing two mugs on the workbench. "And a cereal bar."

The second statement sounded a little more unsure and Morty could've sworn he saw Rick's jaw clench for a second.

"Gimmie coffee." Rick said, making grabby hands, still lying on the floor.

"Water first." Summer replied, handing him the larger of the two mugs.

Rick pouted a little but as soon as the mug was in his hands he drank thirstily, finishing the whole thing in one go.

"You want more?" Summer asked, taking the mug, but he just shook his head quietly.

"Okay," Morty cleared his throat when his voice came out a little shaky. "drink this."

He handed Rick the red 'get sober' vial and Rick chugged it obediently, making a face. "Tastes like– like shit." He offered.

While he seemed a little calmer after the water and serum, his eyes were still unfocused and his voice sounded thick, like his tongue didn't fit in his mouth properly, hints of his accent were slipping through too.

"Did you- are you on drugs r-right now?" Morty asked, reaching for the green vial of serum.

"Maybe." Rick mumbled. His eyelids were starting to droop a little and he curled up more comfortably on the floor.

"Hey, Rick, don't go to sleep okay? What did you take?" Summer asked, crouching down next to him, shaking him a little. He groaned. "Come on, we just have to make sure you're not overdosing and then you can sleep. Maybe not on the floor."

"'M not overdosing." Rick grumbled.

"What did you take?"

"I dunno. Just some random alien drugs I found i-in my pocket." He said dismissively with a burp. "Actually one of 'em was probably adderall. Look at me bein' all responsible an-and takin' my meds n' shit."

He of course immediately showed his 'responsibilty' by gagging and then throwing up on the floor.

Morty winced, reaching for the purple device again while Summer tried to coax him into drinking the green liquid, frowning deeply.

Finally Rick gave in, sipping from the small vial, and almost instantly his eyes began to clear up a little bit.

"Why'd I make these work so well?" He groaned. Then, "My head is killing me, I want coffee."

Summer passed him the second mug and he gestured toward the hangover serum, which Morty promptly passed to him and Rick poured it in his coffee.

He gulped down half the coffee and sighed, wiping his mouth with his already rather dirty sleeve. "Fuck, that's better."

He downed the rest of it and placed the mug on the ground, getting to his feet shakily. He swayed and nearly fell, leaning onto the wall to steady himself as the dizzy spell passed, and then stretched, his back cracking loudly.

He took a few wobbly steps towards the door but Summer blocked the way.

"Fuck– fuck off Summer I gotta– I'm gonna go take a nap."

"Could you maybe eat something first?" She asked firmly, holding up the cereal bar.

"No."

Rick tried to sidestep her but she blocked the way again.

"Summer, don't fucking piss me off right now, I'm serious."

She stood her ground. "Just eat the cereal bar, grandpa Rick. Please."

"Summer, for fuck's sake, I said no!"

"Grandpa," She sighed, the arm holding the bar dropping defeatedly back down to her side. "Do you have an eating disorder?"

The garage was deathly quiet for a second.

"Wha-What?! I'm not a teenage girl in a f-f-f– goddamn netflix drama, Summer." Rick snarled. "What the fuck kinda question is that?"

He gestured wildly, taking another step forwards, which quickly seemed to be the wrong option as a sudden wave of dizziness hit him hard, making him almost loose his balance. He blindly tried to grab onto the back of his chair somewhere behind him, but missed and fell on his ass.

"Rick!" Morty and Summer both rushed to his side, Morty's eyes beginning to well up a little from all the stress of the day.

"I'm fine, don't– don't fucking touch me." He said, shaking Summer's hand off his shoulder, which caused another wave of nausea to hit.

"Please eat this." Summer said nervously, voice shaking as she pushed the cereal bar into his left hand, his right one gripping at his hair.

"Summer, I promise you if I eat that shit right now I'm gonna throw the fuck up."

"Please?" Morty pouted, eyes big and teary.

All it took was one look at him, and with only a brief moment of hesitation Rick snatched the cereal bar from Summer, muttering angrily under his breath.

Morty only caught "Me cago en la puta." and "Maldito cabrón." which he more or less understood, more familiar with swear words than any other words in the Spanish language.

Rick peeled away the wrapper slowly with unsteady hands and took a small bite.

Morty and Summer watched in silence, not wanting to discourage him by saying the wrong thing—which with Rick could be anything—as Rick uncomfortably ate the cereal bar.

"There you fucking go." He said weakly, Throwing the now empty wrapper at Summer, but missing as it was too light to travel more than a couple centimetres, landing somewhere by his feet.

"Thank you." Summer almost whispered.

They sat in silence for a while, Morty sniffling and rubbing at his eyes and Summer shuffling a bit closer to him for both of their comfort.

Rick was sitting with his knees losely bent and his head braced in his hands, trying to overcome another hit of nausea.

He wouldn't exactly say he tried super hard to keep the cereal bar down, but it wasn't deliberate when he vomited it down the front of his shirt.

"Oh! Aw jeez..." Morty winced.

"I did warn you."

"In our defense, you had every reason to be lying to us."

"Fuck you, Summer." It sounded weak even to his own ears.

She sighed softly.

"Morty, get his shirt off. Do you have pijamas or do you sleep in jeans and a lab coat?"

"Jeans an-and a lab coat."

"...I was joking, but okay." Summer said, flipping the switch that opened Rick's garage closet and grabbing one of his sets of identical outfits.

Rick squirmed, making noises of complaint as Morty tried to take off his current shirt.

"Rick– stay still, you have vomit on your clothes."

"I'm not fucking two years old, Morty." He scowled. "I can change by myself."

Rick tried to sit up but wobbled and then slumped back against the wall, needing more time to recover. Morty reached for his shirt again and this time Rick let him pull it carefully up over his head without resisting. Morty took the new set of clothes from where Summer had left them on the floor next to him.

Summer wasn't looking but Morty still shielded Rick's body from sight with his own, pointedly not mentioning the raised scars and jagged, angry, red cuts littering his arms which he had already suspected would be there.

Rick shifted uncomfortably, seeming relieved when Morty didn't want to talk about it.

"Okay." Morty said, helping Rick pull on his clean lab coat too.

"I'm going to bed." Rick grumbled, not waiting for him to continue, just getting up slowly.

He felt weak and shaky and his brittle old bones weren't exactly helping out. Despite his thousands of cybernetic implants he was still human, much to his dismay, and he couldn't treat his body as badly as he did when he was 30. Not that that ever seemed to stop him, managing to still maintain the same shitty habits he'd had for years at the ripe age of 67.

He stumbled through the dining room, Morty and Summer trailing after him, not discouraged by the glare he sent their way.

As soon as he reached his room, he slumped onto his bed with a groan.

"R-rick?"

"Fuck off, Morty." He snapped into his pillow, a little muffled by it.

Morty hesitated, exchanging a glance with Summer, who shrugged.

"...Ookay, Rick. Uh, see– see you at dinner, today? maybe?'

"Don't count on it."

Summer frowned, Starting to say something, but Rick interrupted, "I'm gonna apply my room's Lock Protocols in ten seconds, so i-if you're still in here, I'm not letting you out until I'm done sleeping. A-a-and if you're standing in the doorway, you're gonna get fucking squashed in the doors."

"Whatever, Rick, fuck you too." Summer huffed, pulling Morty out of the doorway with her.

"Room, activate Sensory Protocol 2. And t-tell Summer to go fuck herself."

"Sensory Protocol 2 activated." Came the mechanical voice and a heavy metal door snapped shut. "Go fuck yourself, Summer."

Summer scoffed. "Dick." Followed by a sigh. "What are we gonna do?"

"I-I don't know." Morty admitted. "There's not much we can do if Rick won't accept help. And he won't."

"So what? We just give up on him?" Summer asked accusingly, putting her hands on her hips.

"No, Summer, J-jeez. I just– We're gonna have to get creative."

"Fuck."

---

thats it thats the end i didnt know how tf to end this but my goal wasnt to rewrite like the bible idfk it was just to put rick through shit and put completely unfair expectations on summer and mortys shoulders so that they could ALL suffer in this fic !! :3 also this is so mf long i sincerely apologise if u read all that

[vriedi]

hello dave and bambi-ians of twitter now tumblr here are my (and harvey ech0mo’s) main ocs also non dnb followers here are the guys i sometimes tag about under the cut to be nice to your dashboards

zambo - born in a wet cardboard box all alone. humanaboo magician with schizophrenia and several other disorders. lacks hands entirely. learned magic in response to being bullied, and to help with their disability. in the process changed their biology so much to the point where they formed an entirely new subspecies of bamboids, in addition to changing their blood and other bodily fluids color to match their magic. they/he pronouns

sidney - zambos malewife. neckromancer, blood magic manipulator. also a vampire. likes to bite. talks somewhat verbosely. whore. goes around murdering people with zambo, its fun. can turn his cape into wings. taught that by zambo. he/it pronouns

thinbi - zambos best friend. funny silly guy. can be a cartoon in real life and make squeaky noises. its cute. engaged to bibo. british. can clone himself but the clones dont really do much at all. zambo possesses him to kill people but he doesnt know that. impervious to physical harm due to being a minor deity born to mortals. taught others about origin forms. overall just a guy. he/they pronouns

bibo - comedian. thinbi’s husband. literally just a normal guy. however he likes to make horrible concoctions of food like jello salad. that kind of horrible. gulpinkin (pokemon) kin. can change his face to whatever as long as it looks doodley and funny. thinbi calls him bobo and he calls thinbi bibi. does commissions. he/they pronouns (despite being a cis man)

bambert - pathetic little man. announcer/referee combobob. happily married to bambrute. masochist, mostly for pain by them and others he finds attractive. serial cheater, flirts with Anyone he thinks can maim him. wife literally incapable of jealousy, doesnt matter. bunny. dot eyes under his glasses. allergic to many many things. kinda a pissbaby. he/they pronouns, but prefers being referred to by name

bambrute - the only woman ever (kinda, theyre agender and genderfluid both). bamboxs rival, champion of BDBA. kinda a bully. no actually fully a bully. not a good sportsman (sportswoman), plays rather dirty. likes feminine nouns like wife but has a masculine identity (gay man). worlds first cishet gay couple with bambert. bear. cannot grasp the concept of jealousy whatsoever. she/they/he pronouns (first two preferred)

bambox - himbo boxer. bambrutes rival. always runner up never champion. likes to grill burgers and eat sloppy joes. kinda a dad. doesnt get memes, but posts minion memes. afraid of five nights at freddys and baldis basics. also afraid of flying. one of thinbis dads. he/they pronouns

bambug - stag beetle. bamboxs lover. bamberts nemesis (bambert is not aware of this.) literally sexist (is disgusted by and despises sex. hates people who have sex). blue blood. acts like sakura katana chan kinda. thinbis other papa. hates zambo and sidney too, thinks theyre terrible to thinbi. yandere. internet discourser. he/it pronouns that is all of the main guys lawl

[mwolf0epsilon]

Could i bother you for a studio supply run story now that you've been playing boris and the dark survival? Can be from either Boris or Sammy's perspective since he's there now too. Been dying to see more of before Henry arrived but post-ink machine.

Couldn’t pick which I wanted to do, so you get two very different supply runs based on two experiences I had in-game!

Summary: The Studio had a way of twisting who you considered a friend or even a lover into something cold and cruel...

---

     There's a sense of finality approaching with every bit of scrap that he can get his cartoony gloved hands on. Like something grand is approaching the more he adds to the disturbing collage he’s steadily worked up into a mockery of what he’d been, what he’d become, and what he was still to be.  Daniel Lewek was fading. Not terribly fast, but enough so that he could notice his control slowly slipping away from his grasp.  In turn, Boris was becoming more conscious. More self aware and active, and less willing to move forward into these lonesome and terrifying jogs in and out of Wally’s abandoned safehouse that he’d taken up residency in. He couldn’t blame him for his hesitance, as Buddy was just as terrified of what the studio and its employees had morphed into.

     Joey Drew had essentially upended reality with that ghastly machine of his. Played god and reshaped the world around him to fulfil a sick fantasy of a dream that had been unrealistic and unreacheable. People Buddy had once called friends or friendly coworkers were now either horrific inky abominations, weeping skeletal husks, or one of several carcasses he’d come across. For Boris it was much worse, the wolf’s terror blinding Buddy countless times as they traversed the horrors that hid not only danger but also a bountiful stockpile of useful trinkets and (bleh) stale bacon soup. Worse yet, there were threats much worse than Searchers, desperate Lost Ones, or those really messed up Butcher Gang clones. Some more contained than others. The Ink Demon was the worst of these threats, as it had free roam of the studio, but the inky horror’s terrifying aura was beyond any explanation Buddy could articulate. It activated his flight response on sight alone, if not before an actual sighting even. It was instinctive terror one couldn’t hope to understand, much less a young boy trapped within the mind and body of a cartoon wolf. Other terrors included the deranged Prophet, aka Sammy Lawrence. The once-music director had been consumed by the corruption of the ink from the inside out, making someone already inherently hostile all the much worse. Where he’d once been merely rude and loud, now he was an ax wielding murderer with no qualms in cutting you down for his “lord”. Then there was the manipulative angel who’s voice he recognized as Susie Campbell’s. Whatever had been done to her had left her as nothing if not a hollow mask of Joey’s imperfect dream. A girl playing a part that would never fit her again, not after it had twisted her into such a figure of malice. And finally...There was the one that really hurt Buddy the most to think about…

     Buddy hated the Projectionist’s roosts. The rooms that had thick congealed ink all around, serving almost like the silky strands of a spider’s web. A means to communicate vibrations to the deafened horror that stalked the halls. Oh, how Buddy hated the acrid smell of the ink, and the beating sound of the hearts that attracted Boris so easily like flies to honey.  Attracted him like they did everything else that so much as caught a whiff of their scent. The ink hearts.  So alluring.  So full of life.  So full of soul… 

All beings of the ink craved them, and the Projectionist guarded them. The Projectionist…

     Boris’s terror was suffocating as they hid behind a wall, waiting for the Projectionist to lose interest in the room they’d last been in. The circular patterns of its path were dizzying, especially with the blinking light of the projector. The clicking noises of the clunky machine instilled a terror that most would consider ridiculous out of context. Who could ever be scared of a silly old projector? Well, someone who had one run at them while screeching like a banshee. It didn’t help that Norman Polk had been built as if he was raised pulling locomotives with his bare hands. 6’11 and muscular enough to put a bull to shame. Buddy had wondered why such a man took up such a delicate job than join the army, or work as security, or heck even do construction?  He was beefy enough. But then he’d gotten to know the man and, looking past the obvious eccentricities he was actually quite soft spoken and a gentle giant most of the time. So seeing the absolute monster he’d become was a personal stab to the heart. The Projectionist lacked Norman Polk’s caring personality and instead sought to kill anything that so much as got in its sights. It was a cold and mindless beast that destroyed rather than repair. It was an insult to Norman’s memory, and so very hard to face. Luckily, he never had to. Buddy just had to bide his time, sneak around, grab what he’d come for and run for the elevator. Each time he ascended, he couldn’t help cry into his hands as the brute roared up at the elevator shaft, not a hint of recognition to find. He missed his friend’s kindness.

-

     Leaving his domain was never an option the Prophet enjoyed. But supplies tended to run out quickly when you had a village full of Searchers and Lost Ones to feed. So the Prophet tightened his suspenders, grabbed his torch, and valiantly strolled around the halls in search of soup, candles and what not. He always did his best to avoid his Lord’s sight. Until he was proven worthy enough for the Ink Demon’s gaze to fall upon him, he would instead hide in shadows and traverse the portals. The brilliant brute was also to be avoided, as it had a taste for destroying rather than allying itself to a worthy cause. A mindless animal that would burn for its sins in the end.  Those horrific little gremlins were also to be avoided, although he took great joy in mocking them for their stupidity. It was quite fun! Yes, the Prophet traversed the halls well and outside the gaze of most...But...Even a shepherd of the masses couldn’t be without his own sin. His was wandering, especially when something familiar caught his eye or, in this case, his ear.

That sound… That melody… That voice…

The Prophet is gone for a moment, replaced by Sammy Lawrence, as he comes to a conclusion on what he’s hearing. His beautiful muse, his Susiebell, was out there...Humming the song he’d so lovingly composed for a role only fit for such a queen. All instinct and survival skills he’d learned as the Prophet were lost to nostalgia and blind adoration for the girl who’d captured his heart. Susie sang, Sammy followed. What he found was not Susie. Not anymore.

     The twisted angel catches the side of his face behind the mask just before he jumps through another portal into salvation. Sammy is lost again, the Prophet reawakened through fear and rebuttal for following false idols. The angel is a farce. A symbol of evil. He shall not be fooled again. Bendy is the one true saviour and never again shall the Prophet wander, path astray. So tragic it was, that this was the millionth time their paths had crossed… The Prophet might lie to himself all he wanted, but Sammy would never deny where his heart truly belonged. In the palm of a fallen angel that would rather consume it than give him forgiveness for the crimes of another much more sinister man… Such was life in the studio. They’d carry on repeating a cyclical life until the puppeteer found his oh so coveted grand finale. Nothing more than rotting twisted puppets filling out a role, just like in life. The Prophet may not understand this notion, memories so jumbled he barely made sense of his own  words most days, but perhaps wandering might be the least of his concerns. But the melody...Oh yes that sweet melody. He had to follow it… Again and again... The cycle would just never end.

[sarifel-corrisafid-ilxhel]

What if the Animorphs Did A Thing?

Apologies to @thejakeformerlyknownasprince for stealing their format for this idea.

It was Tobias who realized the possibilities first. Letting the Yeerks have the other Helmacron ship? No way. True, Tobias might have been the slightest bit angry because Visser Three held him hostage, but if the past few hours had taught him anything, it’s that shrink rays are more powerful than they seem.

“A Shrink Ray? Really?” Marco laughed. “Dude, this isn’t a cartoon.”

<No, but we’ve just spent all day at three millimeters tall, and we were helpless.> Tobias adjusted a feather. <I’m just saying that if Visser Three and the Hork-Bajir were three millimeters tall, they wouldn’t be a problem.>

It doesn’t take much more than that for everyone to agree that the shrink ray would be useful, or is at least too dangerous to let the Yeerks keep. They all start trying to figure out where it might have gone.

The last time anyone seen the Helmacron ship Galaxy Blaster, Chapman had been greedily shoving the thing into his suit pocket. That meant it could be at his house. Maybe it wasn’t, but maybe it was. It was worth a look.

Sneaking into Chapman’s house wasn’t as hard as it should have been. Many defenses had been put on the ground floor and in the basement since their visit many months ago, to be sure, but Melissa had left her bedroom window open that night. Maybe she was waiting for some unknown visitor, or maybe she was taking advantage of the cool breeze blowing into her room. Either way, an owl covered in fleas didn’t bother her as she slept. She never heard a thing.

While Ax led the others down, dodging Yeerk sensors as they went, Cassie and Rachel snuck into Chapman’s bedroom as a rat and a squirrel. Just in case. They were supposed to keep an eye on Chapman and his wife.

Rachel was the one who noticed it. Chapman had simply fallen onto his bed and fallen asleep. She’d seen this with her father Dan after a long day, and she’d done it herself after a couple of missions. The odds that Chapman had stopped to do anything before falling asleep were slim. Cassie and Rachel split up to look for his jacket.

Cassie found it in the clothes hamper. It took some digging, but a squirrel’s paws are quick. In no time she’d dug the Galaxy Blaster out, and the two girls headed to retrieve the guys from what sounded like a terrifying ordeal of evading automated Dracon fire and electrical traps.

Ax wasn’t sure if he could make the Galaxy Blaster able to fly again. That didn’t matter, according to Tobias. All they needed was the shrink ray. If Ax could somehow get that working again, they could shrink or grow things at will.

“Attack of the 40-Foot Hawk,” Marco chimed. “Like one of those Godzilla movies. Oh man. Could you imagine it? Visser Three turns into the Monster of the Week, then you just swoop down and grab him and-”

Ax interjected.<A bird that large would not have the correct proportions to sustain lift.> A collective groan of disappointment goes around the group.

The biggest problem with fixing the ship is the extremely tiny controls in the bridge. Ax’s fingers just weren’t nimble enough to manipulate them in the sequence Marco remembers, even with tweezers and the most absurd looking magnifying eyepiece anyone has ever seen. Ax assured the others it can provide magnifications far beyond what a normal Human magnifying glass provides. Tobias noted the eyepiece appeared to be a piece of a microscope that Ax ripped of and strapped a headband to. Ax didn’t confirm or deny this.

When Ax finally admitted defeat, the Chee were happy to help. The mechanical precision of their fingers, along with their vast knowledge, lets them get the Galaxy Blaster back to working condition in a few hours. Bonus, with some coaxing, Erek agreed to make it easy for the others to use as well. A shrink ray, it seems, just barely skirts the Chee non-violence directive.

So they put a handle on it. And a trigger. Really, they just strap the Galaxy Blaster to part of a broken watergun, giving them a proper shrink ray pistol that looks as silly as it is. Thanks to Erek’s work, it was simple to use. One button causes a 2x reduction in size with each trigger pull. The other button causes a 2x increase in size with each trigger pull. Erek made the Animorphs swear they would not use it for violence.

The next raid on the Yeerk Pool, the Animorphs all go in combat morphs. Ax wields the shrink ray.

The first wave of Controllers to run at them are reduced to 3 inches tall in a moment. They quickly scampered away to avoid being crushed by the Animorphs.

The second wave of Controllers didn’t fare any better.

The third wave decided that fighting at close range wasn’t a good idea when their enemy had a shrink ray. Unfortunately for them, Ax is exceptionally accurate, and he managed to hit them with ease even as he dodged Dracon fire. The third wave were shrunk down in no time at all.

The shrunken Controllers who have Dracon beams were horrified to find out their weapons are much less effective at this size. The Animorphs shrugged off numerous hits without issue.

Visser Three arrived, as he always does, in style. He dropped in from the ceiling in some horrific bat-monster morph. No one paid attention to the name of the planet he acquired it on. A shame, he was quite proud of that trip. He had been the only one to survive. Moments later, he was no larger than a little brown bat, and Tobias easily caught the Visser in his talons.

The Yeerks didn’t really seem to have an answer for what is happening. In all the chaos, they tried everything they could think of. None of it worked.

Someone manages to take off in a Bug Fighter, but before they can turn the weapons onto Ax, the Bug Fighter is reduced to the size of a toy car. Tobias knocked it out of the air with ease.

The Hork-Bajir tried again and again even after being Shrunk, but their tiny blades do nothing, and Jake is almost amused at how easily he batted them all away, like a cat with a favorite toy.

The Taxxons awere too distracted trying to catch all of the tiny Controllers to put up any meaningful resistance. But innocent people might get hurt by a hungry Taxxon chasing them down. At Cassie’s urging, they too were shrunk before they could eat too many people.

Maybe thirty minutes after the Animorphs arrived, the Yeerk Pool’s primary defenses had all been dealt with.

Visser Three refused to accept defeat initially. He demorphed and remorphed again and again, but at three inches tall, even his largest and most powerful morphs are useless.

Eventually, he realized the Animorphs have won. He began trying to negotiate, offering as little as he can at first. He knows where Elfangor’s human son was and could take the Animorphs to him.

This came as a shock to some of the Animorphs- They weren’t aware Elfangor had a Human son. However, they put two and two together about the Yeerk interest in Tobias a few days ago and promptly resolved that he has some explaining to do when this is all over.

The Animorphs decided that the small offers Visser Three made aren’t enough. They had, unexpectedly, won. The entire Yeerk Pool was theirs. Visser Three, now in a pickle jar with holes in the lid, was theirs. They decided to tell the world, to end the invasion once and for all.

The Chee arrived and helped with catching and sorting out the shrunken Controllers. And then, strangely, Mr. Tidwell- a late arrival to the battle- began to help too.

The Yeerk Peace Movement are bewildered by this turn of events, and the Animorphs are bewildered by the existence of the Yeerk Peace Movement. Aftran 942 is brought up from the depths of the Yeerk Pool to explain. Cassie began working on a plan for dealing with the Yeerks.

The Yeerks were returned to full size after they left their hosts, and then they were quickly moved into the pool before their now-free hosts could try to hurt them. Esplin 9466 remained in the pickle jar even after he was returned to normal size.

A bewildered Alloran took all of five minutes to recover before he began to demand to know where the Andalite fleet was and how many Andalites had arrived to help. When he was told the truth, he made several loud noises of shock and despair. Then he asked if he could see the shrink ray. Marco told him it would violate the Prime Directive to share such technology with a species as primitive as the Andalites. Ax ‘accidentally’ smacked Marco in the back of the head for calling Andalites primitive.

After some time, the Free Hork-Bajir were alerted by Tobias and arrived to take care of the now-free Hork-Bajir. The Taxxons- a wildcard even once they are free- surprisingly united around a strange Taxxon that goes by the name of Arbron.

The Chee covered for the Animorphs when the Animorphs decided to set up a temporary base of operations within the Yeerk Pool.

It became clear within an hour that the people who beat the Yeerks were mostly just Human teenagers. It didn’t matter. The Yeerks didn’t have anything that could stop or resist the shrink ray.

As more Controllers wandered in for their bi-weekly feedings, they were caught by the various forces that now control the place. The situation is explained to them, and they’re given a choice.

The few that resisted were tied up and left in the many sheds on the periphery to wait the few hours it will take for the Yeerks to starve. The Yeerks that surrender are thrown into the pool without ceremony and their hosts set free.

Once some of the Human-Controllers who serve in the police and military were free, they quickly went to get the proper authorities. Marco went up to meet the police as they arrive and escorted them down into the facility. Within a few hours of Visser Three’s surrender, the Media arrived. Within a day, the world knew all about the invasion. The remaining Controllers on the surface tried to stay away for as long as they can, but eventually, they too surrender.

Vissers in other Yeerk facilities on Earth quickly ordered the ships in orbit to open fire on the Yeerk Pool, to end this debacle before it could get any worse. The ships in orbit refused. Some landed and surrendered. Others fled to the safety of the Yeerk Empire.

The general surrender begins extending to the other Yeerk facilities as well. Law enforcement and military forces begin arriving and taking control. In some cases, the fights were bloody. In others, the Yeerks surrendered without firing a shot.

Jake didn’t feel any qualms about snatching the slug that slithered out of Tom’s ear and throwing it as hard as he could. He didn’t know if the slug made it into the Pool or splatted against the ground on the other side. He didn’t care.

Visser One arrived a few months later with a full war-fleet. Somehow Visser Three had screwed things up, but Earth was still vital to the Yeerk Empire. It didn’t matter if the Humans now had access to Yeerk technology. A full fleet, led by the fearsome Nova-class Empire Ship, could easily retake the planet.

A lone Blade Ship, since repainted in the style of a Human naval vessel, flew up to meet the Yeerk fleet. It transmitted a single message: Surrender immediately or be shrunk.

Visser One laughed. Shrunk? That’s ridiculous! There’s no way they could possibly be serious, the Humans didn’t have that kind of technology, and even if they did, it wouldn’t be useful- And then the Visser realized something was very, very wrong. A strange beam projected by the Blade Ship hit each ship in the Yeerk fleet, one after the other. One by one, each ship in the Yeerk fleet vanished from optical sensors. Communications with each ship indicated they were all alive, all intact, but surprisingly, unbelievably, they had all been shrunk. Visser One was left with a choice. Take her tiny, useless fleet back to the Yeerk Empire, or surrender.

With a pounding migraine reinforced by Eva’s cheers, Visser One surrendered.

[melissatreglia]

Did You Miss Me?: Darkiplier in 2018

For the most part, 2018 was a quiet year. In contrast with 2017, where we were gratified to see Dark's monochromatic visage throughout the year, 2018 carried playful hints and teasing of the elusive entity's presence but no confirmation. There were thumbnails and quick flashes that indicated He was continuing to pull strings, ensuring that His presence was felt but His face never really seen.

Throughout 2017, He'd show up during what us mere mortals consider major holidays or important events. Valentine's Day. Easter. Even Cinco de Mayo got a nod. And of course, the infamous Friday the 13th late in the year.

But 2018? He apparently decided to stay home in the void during our days of revelry, with the possible (though not confirmed) exception of the decidedly strange Fall in Love with Markiplier video for Valentine's Day. And for the TWO Friday the 13ths in 2018? He was a no-show. In 2017, He'd returned to shake things up in our safe little lives... and in 2018, He left us wanting more, like the skilled manipulative seducer He is.

Getting Over It, Part 8 included a thumbnail with Mark's dour expression and a suspiciously familiar colour scheme. The thumbnail for WATCH OUT!! had Mark reaching for us in a state of panic (which belied the contents of the video itself). 

Try Not to Smile Challenge #3, while the smile-free serial killer laugh is creepy, it's not a Darkiplier moment. Though, him joking near the end of the video that people who didn’t smile at some point during the video are "soulless demons" does seem to be a Darkiplier reference of some kind (or maybe a Devilplier reference, since the Cuphead song was released just two months later)?

In Madison, when his game character watches a television that glitches and fades to static, Mark fearfully squeaks, "Darkiplier, is that You?!" While in the description for End My Suffering, just ten days later, Mark wailed, "What malevolent being did I piss off to be cursed like this!"

Brother Wake Up promised "I’ll try to help in whatever way I can but you have to wake up!" Which, while it fit perfectly with the title of the game, the description also fit pretty damn well into the channel lore too. And Umfend's description was likewise ominous: "You shouldn't have forgotten about me... I'll make you remember..."

Meanwhile, the title for the video of Welcome The The Game 2.0 doubles as a callback to an earlier Darkiplier moment: "Don't Play This Game". Horns of Fear did it one better, with the thumbnail featuring many eyes staring out at the viewer (again with an all-too-familiar colour scheme), while the title warned us "DON'T LOOK AWAY..."

In the Warframe playthrough late in the year, Mark's camera briefly freezes. But in 3 Scary Games #9, his camera freezes repeatedly before glitching back to normal, and he implies that "there's something else" messing with the camera. In 5 Nostalgic Games, when Mark gives the definition of ubiquitous and bares his teeth while saying "We're learning today!", the video suddenly glitches. 

The thumbnail for Markiplier has fled the country had Mark lunging at the camera, his face completely darkened by shadow. And the thumbnail for 3.75 Scary Games blatantly toyed with the fandom with text shouting "DARKIPLIER?"

And the fanbaiting didn't stop there. More thumbnails that hinted at Dark included a hand bathed in blue light reaching out to the viewer for the fittingly titled The Devil Haunts Me, and a cartoon of Mark cowering away from Dark's furious glare for You're Perfect.  

Markiplier's Tour: The Movie featured the improv teacher stating that Markiplier wasn't at the shows. "I don't know who that guy was, but it wasn't him." Even the Markiplier Animated short I've Got Boobs?! features a brief scene of a shadowy Darkiplier rising from a well and whispering something unintelligible.

For the most part however, the teasing came directly from out of Mark’s mouth.

In 3 Scary Games #5, Mark jokes that a ghost (clad in the classic white sheet and glitching somewhat) is Darkiplier. 3 Scary Games #13, the first (jokey) game called "Death Trips" features RGB text and Mark narrating in an echoing voice. In Midnight Shift, a game where Mark is memorably being chased by mannequins, he jokes that an RGB poster on a wall is "expricitly [sic] Darkiplier". In SCP Containment Breach #57, Mark jokes when he sees the intro screen of a pretty lady in 3D with an open third eye, "Look at this Darkiplier ass thing... it's like Celine, straight out of [Who Killed Markiplier?]". 

In 3 FNAF Fan Games, he even chortles that the game has “Darkiplier letters.” In Devil Daggers, he scoffs, “A high-pitched ringing in the darkness. That’s always good.”

[Image captured by me, on June 3, 2018.] 

Just before midsummer, I received a pleasant surprise. In Imscared: Steam Edition, Mark says "I gotta go get back into the Shadow Realm, the Upside Down." Which, personally, made me very happy at the time. Since I first became active on Tumblr in July 2017, I've been referring to Dark's void dimension as the Shadow Realm, while Mark has referred to it in the past as the Upside Down, making the link fairly clear in this statement. (Somehow, whether by happy accident or serendipity, my terminology and its proper context made its way to Mark. As a fan, I can't describe how pleased that made me, to know he might have actually seen something I’ve made.)

(But enough about me. I’m just an obsessive Darkiplier fangirl. So let’s get back to cataloging all the hinty goodness!)

By this point, you’re probably wondering, “Okay, so all those hints are decent. But where the hell is Dark in all of this?!” But that’s the point, my friends: He was there the whole time. In brief flashes of imagery, in hints and innuendo. Unseen, but his presence clearly felt as our expectations were played with by our channel host.

We expected a wild ride at the beginning, when Mark made two brief livestreams on January 5th, wandering through the theatre he was slated to play for the You’re Welcome Tour. 

The first of the two, “What’s Going In?!”, he showed us the back area of the Paramount Theatre, using only improvised narration and acting to build an atmosphere of dread. He claimed the theatre was haunted, and that he could smell “the scent of death”, ultimately vowing to protect those who would be visiting the theatre to see him that night. He also declares the EXIT a trap, before being pursued by an unseen entity.

The drama continued with “...” (a title that is impossible to find using Youtube’s search options), that begins with an eerie quiet. Tyler eventually finds Mark’s dropped phone. He asks the viewers where Mark is, before going on a search. He’s eventually attacked from behind and the stream cuts off, leaving those who weren’t at the show that night to wonder how the matter resolved.

In Simulacra, there's a brief flash of Mark in his Big Mood outfit with text saying "WAKE UP". When the simulacra changes the colour of the cellphone's display and begins to speak in a calm, creepy voice, Mark reflexively responds, "Darkiplier?" and sounding unnerved at the mention of "behind your black mirrors", then being stunned as the screen appears to crack.

At the end of Simulacra, he gives an uncharacteristically downbeat speech, declaring that "We're all just digital copies of ourselves, idealized in a digital form. And maybe that's the way that life is just supposed to be. Maybe we should all just roll over and accept it, because there's nothing that we can do to change our fates, after all. And who's to say that it's not better for us just to wear the masks that are our digital personas, and live our lives as those? Maybe that is for the best."

The How To Make Slime video goes from harmlessly silly and takes a twist for the stabby. Mark declares "In order to appease the Dark Gods..." then he instructs the viewer to slice their palm and "whisper the words of power." The words in question? "They shall rise. They shall consume. All will be lost when they rise from the darkness of the ocean. Madness opens up to everything." When the making of the slime is concluded, he adds that "We all get to enjoy three years of peace before the Dark Gods consume us all."

I have no idea what that means, but I’m pretty sure it may involve Cthulhu chomping on my kidneys. (Then again, Darkiplier is a Lovecraftian monstrosity Himself. So, if it’s Him who’s one of the Dark Gods? He can have a kidney from me if He’s really that hungry. Kidneys are a redundant system anyway, so you really only need one.)

April Fool’s Day brought us the gag gift of The Official Markiplier Rock, with a suspiciously deep voice informing us that the rock is available in white. Additionally, the video warned to alert the SCP Foundation if the rock appears to start talking! (What? My rock has been talking to me since I got it, and there’s nothing wrong with me!)

Baldi’s Basics: Secret Ending featured an explanation about attaining the secret ending, with Mark’s otherwise normal voice echoing slightly with subtle white noise effects. (Hmmm...)

In December, for the charity livestream and archived in a video called Santa Spills The Tea, a Santa Claus that sounded suspiciously like Wilford Warfstache declared that Dark, the master manipulator and Big Bad of Mark’s channel, was a “sweetheart! He shouts a lot, but he’s just a big ol’ pussy. He can’t even possibly… he didn’t hurt anybody! He didn’t kill one person! If there’s anybody who’s on my naughty li— uh, on my list of people who’ve been bad, he’s the only one not on it.” (And mind you, in 2017′s Markiplier TV, Wilford sang a little ditty about how he killed Santa Claus and the kids wouldn’t be getting any presents that year. And Dark still convinced us to shoot someone in A Date With Markiplier, while apparently feigning regret. But heck, use your own judgement.)

Mark also dropped one heck of a hint of things to come in, of all places, Markiplier Tries Korean Beauty Products. There, the descriptive intro to the following year’s DAMIEN animated feature can be heard at one point. “Snow blankets the field, a pristine meadow of untouched white. No animals call. No birds cry. Only the steady rustling of wind through dead trees accented by the impact of his axe. A crack-like thunder rings out as the ancient pine finally succumbs to his murderous assault. The old giant crashes into the ground. Dami-”

Wilford Motherloving Warfstache was, of course, focused on the mustachioed entity. But there were elements to the short film that felt like Darkiplier was watching along with us. Particularly the VHS-style glitch at the end of the film.

Of course, there were only three videos that year that potentially contained Darkiplier himself.

One candidate is Fall in Love with Markiplier. Yes, the name on the title is Mark’s... but is it really him? The entirety of the film is a fourteen minute staring contest with Mark, as he lovingly (and somehow also creepily) gazes at the viewer in different settings -- by the ocean, at a dog park, and in a bubble bath. The only spoken words are in the intro, over the strains of the music from A Date with Markiplier: “It’s scientifically proven that you can fall in love with someone simply by maintaining eye-contact for an extended period of time. So now, you can fall in love with Markiplier all over again in these three locations. Happy Valentine’s Day.”

The second candidate is World’s 5th Quietest Let’s Play, released just 5 days prior to the Let’s Have a Romantic Staring Contest video. Unlike the previously mentioned video, there’s more going on this time around. The game to be played quietly this time around is Bennett Foddy’s infamous rage-inducing creation “Getting Over It”. 

He threatens the developer with the words, “You will see the inside of your entrails, when I drag them out of your abdomen and show them to you.” (Ah, how romantic.) He goes even further than that, saying soon after, “This is a representation of My sins... You will be purged in the fires of absolution, along with all of your ilk. I will burn the heretics that you are harbouring inside of your soul... I will destroy you.” (Now there’s the smite-happy Hellgod we all love!)

But He doesn’t stop there, snarling under His breath, “You will burn in the fires of My own hell! And I will choose your pain to last eternity!” However, He is ultimately defeated by the game, departing our company with  “Alas, I leave you now, to slumber amongst the ancients.” (Aww, poor guy needs a hug. And I know just who’s ready to snuggle with Him...)

But the last of the video to potentially contain Darkiplier is... the four-hour long play through of Hearts & Heroes. Is it canon Dark? No, probably not. It’s a fan game, though the words of dialogue are acted out by Mark himself. But rather than simply recounting key phrases for you, here’s the Boss Battle between Mark’s team and Dark, edited by the lovely icedpinkpeebles (Mark’s goofy character names and all!):

So, what does all of this ultimately mean? Why did Darkiplier fade into the background in 2018? And, most importantly, what is He up to now?

The truth is I don’t know any more than you do. I can only guess.

But I can tell you this: We don’t know Darkiplier as well as we all think we do. Many of us (including me) fully expected Dark to raise hell following the events of the jokey Darkiplier vs Antisepticeye video in 2017 (because He did mention how He hates being mocked!). And while we did get more Dark at the end of that year, it was in the form of an origin story.

Whatever Dark’s planning, we’re not going to see it coming. Because He’s playing a long game. And when you’re immortal like He is, you have all the time in the world to get what you want. Be it for love or revenge, Darkiplier remains a force to be reckoned with.

But here we are, in the eye of the storm. Only time will tell before the final wrath of the hurricane makes landfall.

[queenofcats17]

I had a kind of silly idea! I remember in one prompt you wrote had some Searchers playing pranks on people in the village and I thought that was pretty cute! Maybe a few that are in the process of regaining their identity start playing pranks on Murray while he’s trying to help out with stuff? Meanwhile Henry is alone again and comes across Jack Fain? Maybe they just hang out together and Jack tries to help Henry feel a little better about what’s been going on? Sorry if this idea is stupid. 😅

Part of this is going to be cute, and then there’s going to Henry’s part. Henry’s parts are always emotional. ^^”

One thing Murray discovered during his time in the Lost Ones’ village was that they liked to play pranks. It was something they’d learned from both Bendy and Wally. Bendy was mischievous by nature and Wally was the studio clown, so they both enjoyed playing harmless pranks. They were all very strict about never going too far. The worst they could do was inconvenience someone. Their pranks generally involved hiding objects and giggling as others tried to find said objects. It kept their spirits up and helped them regain their identity to a certain extent. 

Murray discovered this a few days after he came to the village. He’d been drafted to help fix some parts on one of the boats that Allison and Tom used, and when he’d reached for his wrench, it wasn’t there. He frowned, digging around in the provided toolbox a bit. It had just been here. Where could it have gone? His frown deepened. Had he dropped it? If it had gone into the ink river, he certainly wouldn’t be getting it back. 

“Has anyone seen the wrench?” He asked, standing up and wiping his hands on his pants.

“Weren’t you just using it?” Sammy asked from up on the roof. “Wally, stay still. I can’t hammer if you keep moving the plate around.”

“I’m bad at staying still! You know that!” Wally said. 

Sammy sighed. “Alright. I’ll finish this up myself. Why don’t you help Murray look for the wrench?”

“You got it!” Wally gave him a silly salute, jumping off the roof. Murray instinctively winced as Wally hit the ground and became a puddle before quickly reforming himself. The cartoon physics that governed the way most of the ink creatures moved still unsettled Murray a bit. Wally thrived on it, though.

“So, you can’t find the wrench, huh?” 

“Erm, yes.” Murray nodded. “I reached for it and it wasn’t there.”

“Hmmm.” Wally screwed up his face in thought, adjusting his cap with one hand. “D’ya think you coulda dropped it?”

“I mean, it’s possible.” Murray nodded slightly, still looking around. “I could have sworn I put it in the toolbox, though.” It was then that he noticed a group of Searchers hiding behind one of the shacks, giggling to themselves. He couldn’t help but let out a short laugh. 

“What?” Wally frowned, following his gaze. “Ooooh. Oh, yeah. They do that sometimes. Well, guess you gotta find it now!” He slapped Murray’s back. “Have fun!”

“For crying out loud…” Murray rolled his eyes, but he was smiling.

That was most of what the Searchers did to him. They hid things that he was using and giggled while they watched him look for them. Their other pranks involved dumping ink on Wally, Sammy, Allison, or Tom. They couldn’t do that to Murray, for obvious reasons. So they mostly just hid things. It was slightly inconvenient, but Murray didn’t mind. It made the Searchers happy. A few even regained some of their memories through them. Besides, it made Murray feel as though he was a part of their family.

Another thing they enjoyed doing was writing on the walls. Murray had seen the writings on the walls, most of them rather depressing, and had wondered where they came from. As it turned out, pretty much everyone in the studio wrote on the walls. Although most of the writings in the studio were depressing, there were some that were genuinely rather funny. Although, those were quickly covered up or erased due to what they talked about. The Searchers, those who had broken free of the hive mind that is, liked to write messages mocking Joey or Alice on the walls.

The insults they used were generally childish in nature, accompanied by silly little drawings that did not depict their subjects kindly. Joey tended to erase the messages as soon as he found them, fuming at this insult to his power. Alice almost immediately tried to scrub them away, screaming about how disrespectful they were. Murray couldn’t help but giggle a little as well whenever the Searchers got away with this. Especially when their target was Joey. After all, Joey’s biggest flaw was his massive ego. It felt good to needle him where it hurt.

He was going to save these people, Murray decided. They’d had no reason to be nice to him, to accept him after what he’d done to them. But they had. They were good people, and they deserved to be happy. And maybe…Maybe he too deserved to be happy.

Henry, on the other hand, only thought he was happy. Feeling quite sure his act had fooled Henry, Joey had turned him loose to roam while he himself searched for Murray. Henry was humming to himself, making his way through the halls. He was completely oblivious to everything. Before he knew it, he found himself in the Music Department. He made a curious noise, looking around. It didn’t seem as though anyone else was there. It felt so lonely and empty without others there. Henry made a mournful noise, searching around for anything to entertain himself with. He vaguely remembered there being something in the sewers, so he decided to head there. 

It was in the sewers that he came across Jack Fain. Jack was sitting at his desk, staring down at the music sheets still left on his desk. He didn’t dare touch them for fear of ruining them. He knew it served no purpose for him to dwell on the past like this. But when he looked at those music sheets and his violin, he remembered all he’d lost. 

“Ja…ck…?” He looked up abruptly to find Henry in the sea of ink beside his little alcove. 

“Henry? What are you doing here?” Jack asked. “I thought Joey would be keeping you close after…” He trailed off, hunching his shoulders. 

“Wanted to…explore,” Henry said. “Joey’s….busy.”

“Ah.” Jack nodded tentatively. “Well, it’s nice to see you. I can’t imagine things have been easy for you lately.” Henry shrugged. 

“It’s okay. Joey…apologized…” As clarity returned to his mind, he trailed off. 

“Is something wrong?” Jack asked. He was understandably wary of any apology given by Joey Drew. 

“He lied to me again.” Henry’s shoulders slumped. “He spun some story about wanting a family and I fell for it. Again.”

“He’s lied to all of us at one time or another,” Jack said. “You shouldn’t feel bad about falling for it. We all did.” All except Norman, that was. 

“I should know better by now!” Henry slapped ineffectually at the ink. “I know what he’s like! I’ve seen what he’s capable of! I should have known!” Had he still been able to cry, he might have been crying at that point.

“Henry…” Jack slipped off his chair to join Henry in the ink, putting a hand on his shoulder. “Even if Joey wasn’t exerting his control on you, which I’m certain he was, you know how good he is at manipulating people. He knows just what to say to get us to go along with his plans.” 

Henry was silent for a moment before sighing heavily. “I guess you’re right.”

“You shouldn’t beat yourself up about this,” Jack assured him. “None of it is your fault. You’re just trying to survive, same as the rest of us.” Henry smiled, putting his hand on Jack’s. 

“Thank you.” He said. “I really appreciate it. You, Sammy, and Wally have all been so kind.”

“You’re our friend.” Jack smiled back at him. “Besides, we all help each other down here. We have to work together if we ever want to beat Joey.” Henry nodded, turning his gaze to the ink river. 

“Do you think we’ll ever make it out of here?” He asked. 

“We will,” Jack replied. “We just have to have faith.”

“If you say so.” Henry laughed weakly. 

“Dreams come true, right?” Jack said. “Anyway, why don’t we go to Sammy’s sanctuary? I think you deserve a rest.”

Not all of them, Henry thought as he followed Jack upstairs. Not all of them.

[broken-emotionalmess]

My parents watch supernatural part 2

Get ready folks for my parents to watch supernatural for the second time. I decided to do episode 5x01 because my mum likes movies about the end of the world. So spoilers ahead. Hope you enjoy :)

Me; Ready?

Mum; (Sighs)

Me; Now there’s this angel called Castiel. He was meant to kind of...i forgot what he was meant to do (Does anyone remember what Cas was first meant to do?) He’s just an angel 

Mum; (Referring to Bobby) Is he the old guy?

Me; No he’s kind of the young guy. The old guy is like their surrogate dad whose kind of adopted them.

Mum; What happened to the dad?

Me; He died. He traded his life for Dean’s. And the monster that they hunted, and that killed their mum is gone... he’s dead.

Mum; (Interested noise)

Me; So the angel Castiel has decided to rebel against heaven because he has realised that they’re like really bad. 

Mum; So that’s like Micheal the archangel.

Me; This whole season is Lucifer, Micheal, Gabriel, and Raphael. The angels are really bad because they manipulate things to try and get their way. 

Mum; Okay. 

Me; Ok.

Dad; I’m gonna lie down on the coach. 

Mum; And whose Lucifer? Is that a person?

Me; No he’s the devil

Mum; (Gesturing to the cartoon on the plane) Is that the devil?

Me; Yeah. 

Mum; (Laughs and the scene on the plane)

Me; Oh yeah GOD is in this like apart of it.

Dad; Wasn’t this on like some years ago?

Me; Yeah it started in 2005. Cas is the angel.

Mum; (sighs)

“The Archangels smoked the crap out of him”

Mum; (Scoffs)

Zachariah and angels show up

Me; They’re angels. 

Mum; Oh. 

“Cause like it or not its apocalypse now”

Mum; (Laughs)

Mum; Will we see him?

Me; Lucifer? You see the guy he is possessing, I think. 

“You listen to me boy”

Mum; (Laughs) 

Me: Yeah I know its all very “Boy!” (southern)

Mum: It’s silly. 

Me: That's a sigil that sends the angels back too heaven. 

“This sucks ass”

Mum; (Laughs)

“I learned it from Ruby”

Me; Ruby is the demon that manipulated him.

“-It’s like whoever put me on that plane cleaned me right up”

Me: He was a junkie.

Sees Mark Pellegrino.  

Me; Oh this is the guy the devil possesses. Nick.

The scene where Nick is coved in blood in the bed

Mum; Oh for- 

The scene where Becky comes in reading her fanfic aloud.  

Me; (embarrassed) Oh my god. I forgot this scene was in here. The prophet (Chuck) wrote books about their lives (Sam and Dean) because he thought they were his own ideas. And she is like a fan, who is obsessed. 

Side note; My mum watches me thought out this whole scene. I think she believes I am now like Becky. 

The scene where Bobby comes in. 

Me; That’s Bobby the surrogate father.

Mum; How did they meet him?

me; he’s a hunter as well. So they met him when they were kids. Their dad took them to him, to watch them.

Mum; Oh. 

“Guy looks like Kate Blanchet”

Mum; (Rolls eyes)

“He was the one who booted Lucifer downstairs” 

Me; There you go.  

Me; Uh no. I hate this scene. 

The scene where Sam confesses to setting Lucifer free and then Bobby’s reaction. 

Mum; (Laughing)

Me; Stop laughing. It’s not funny it’s very serious. 

“You sorry you started Armageddon” 

Mum; (scoffs)

“I want you to lose my number”

Mum; (Laughs)

Me; It's very serious.

Me; What do you think so far?

Mum; It’s a bit silly.  

Dad; You have to be committed to the whole thing. 

To my dad; What do you think?

Dad; (Hesitant) Its alright. I prefer my��other shows. 

Me; You watch boring Danish shows. 

Dad; It's a bit more believable the whole bloody apocalypse coming. 

Me; I don’t know. 

Mum; All that stuff was made up by very superstitious people. Who couldn’t come up with a scientific rational explanation.  

Me; Oh my god. Do you think all the shows you watch are real?

Mum; (Laughs) Well they are.

Me; No they’re not. 

Mum; Like Primeval, Doctor Who. It would be better if the doctor was in it. 

Side note #2; My mum is a big fan of Doctor Who, Primeval, and some of Sherlock. 

Mum; (Repeating Bobby’s line) “Yeah you do that, Dean”

Me; He’s Sam. 

Mum; Oh whoever (Laughing). (About Sam/Jared) They should’ve called him Dean it would’ve been easier. (Gilmore girls) 

Me; No he doesn’t look like a Dean.

Mum; He was a Dean.

Me; He’s real name is Jared.

Mum; That's a silly name. 

Me; The other guy is called Jensen. 

Mum; JeNsEn?!

Mum; (Repeating Bobby’s line, again) ‘About your brother’, ‘What John said’. Is John the father? 

Me; Yep. 

“He’s ended the world, Dean.”

Mum; (Burts out laughing) How has he ended the world if their still there. That doesn’t make sense 

Me; (Laughing as well) Because he’s let Lucifer out they don’t think they’ll be able to save the world. 

Mum; The worlds still going on. So how does that make sense.  

Me; BeCauSe ThEy LeT LuciFUR OuT. 

“I don’t believe it.”

Mum; I don’t believe it either. 

Bobby punches Dean 

Mum; Oh. Why did he do that? 

Me; He’s possessed. 

Mum; (Gasps, then laughs) 

Me; You're not meant to laugh. 

Scene with Nick 

Me; That’s the devil before he’s the devil. 

Mum; Deleware. you know what the capital of Delaware is? 

Side note #3; My Mum is obsessed with the states of the Us and the Capitols of the states 

Me; (Sarcastically) Ohio. 

Mum; Dover. 

The scene where creepy stuff starts happening to Nick.

Me; You might not like this bit.

Mum; Why? does something happen to the teddy bear?

Me; (Again sarcastically) Yeah. No, it's creepy.

Mum; I don’t wanna see something happen to the bear. 

The scene where blood is coming out of the crib. 

Mum; Oh that’s very yucky. Very messy.

Me; (Sighs)

Mum; What?

Me; You just don’t appreciate the show, for how good it is. 

Cut off to a black screen

Mum; Is it over?

Me; No. 

(Mum laughing quietly) 

Me; Stop laughing. 

Castiel comes in 

Mum; Whose that guy?

Me; Castiel. He’s with the brothers.

Mum; Is he good or bad?

Me; Good. 

Mum; He looks like Captain Jack. (Torchwood)

Castiel disappears 

Mum; Where’d he go?

Me; He disappeared.

Mum; Who was he?

Me; Castiel, the angel...of Thursday. If you want to know.

Mum; oh for goodness sake. 

Me; (quoting a line from the show) I ain’t shutting you out boy. 

Mum; (looks at me with shame) Bella... 

Mum; So is Sam a demon?

Me; No he was just addicted to demon blood. 

Mum; Why?

Me; Because he was given it at birth, and he became a physic person. I think...

Mum; Is this the last season? 

Me; No 

Mum; What happens in the next one?

Me; (Not wanting to get into it) I don’t know. Sam...

Mum; Have you not seen it?

Me; No I have. This is only the fifth season.

Mum; How many are there?

Me; 14.

Mum; Oh god. 

Me; (Laughing) I’m watching the new episode tonight (14x10 ;) ) 

Mum; Not here though. Upstairs. 

Me; Let’s watch it here.

Mum; No it’s too creepy, and it doesn’t make sense unless you’ve watched all of it. 

Me; That's the end of it. 

Mum; (Not paying attention) oh what happened? 

Me; They had a deep discussion on how Dean can’t forgive him. 

Mum; Why what did Dean do? 

Me; No Sa-. Because Sam started the apocalypse. 

Mum; Well he didn’t mean to though, did he? (round off applause for my mother)

Me; EXACTLY! 

Mum; Well it wasn’t his fault.

Me; EXACTLY!

Mum; Well what's the problem?

Me; Because Sam got kind of manipulated by Ruby, to drink demon blood which then separated him from Dean. 

Mum; well that wasn’t his fault. 

Me; THANK YOU!

Me; What did you think?

Mum; Its a bit silly it doesn't make a lot of sense.

Me; It does if you’ve watched all of it. 

Dad; So how far are you through it?

Me; I’m watching the new episode tonight. 

Mum; Don’t you get scared?

Me; Of the 14th season.

Mum and Dad; God

Mum; How can it go on for 14 seasons. 

Me; There’s a lot of storylines. It shouldn’t have gone for that long. 

Dad; I slept a bit, the devil took me. 

That rounds up I think the second and last time my parents will watch supernatural. I believe my mum is a sam girl (like mother like daughter). And I don’t think a part 3 will happen sorry guys but my parents are totally over this. Stay tuned because possibly tomorrow I will post my own reaction to the new season 14 episode 10 reaction. Thanks to everyone who loved part one of this. :)

[aion-rsa]

Aliens, Clowns & Geeks Review: Sci-Fi Comedy Aims Low And Scores High

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No one sets out to make a cult movie. Most filmmakers aspire to commercial heights even if they only have the budgets for a B-movie. They see films like Blair Witch realign box office accounting and apply all kinds of quantum physics to mimic the exponential multiplication. Very few achieve it, and the ones which do usually do it by accident, and certainly not with serious intent. Aliens, Clowns & Geeks is not afraid to be ridiculous. It joins the ranks as such brave films as Attack of the Killer Tomatoes, Killer Klowns From Outer Space, and Frankenhooker.

It is also so much more than these films, dripping with artistry, and yet considerably less, with masturbating aliens, pussy ping pong, and sphincter-pinching obelisks. Richard Elfman’s sci-fi comedy has an abundance of experimental fun and a happily reckless disregard for taste. It owes as much to Frank Zappa as it does to Frank Capra, and can in some ways be seen as a screwball comedy take on the 1955 film noir classic Kiss Me Deadly. For a silly film, Aliens, Clowns & Geeks summons serious plot twists. It captures the casual surrealism of the Marx Brothers in hyper-speed.

Though it’s not on the level as Forbidden Zone, how could it be? Elfman’s 1980 cult classic ranks way past closing time on the clock of midnight movies. Aliens, Clowns & Geeks is still completely original. Unlike other films where low budget hobbles creativity, this uses a lack of funds to its advantage. In some ways this is like Tim Burton’s Mars Attacks!, except done on one-thousandth of the budget and with 1/100th of the stars. Aliens, Clowns & Geeks marks the final feature film role for the late Verne Troyer (Austin Powers: The Spy Who Shagged Me, Goldmember, Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone). His Clown Emperor Beezel-Chugg is a memorable turn. Narcissistic, lethal, and commanding, he is the Emperor of the Nine Planet Federation, and still gets hauled in for Illegal dwarf tossing.

The little clown who gets tossed around is played by Nic Novicki, but don’t feel too bad for him, he takes dirty pictures of nuns in porta-potties in his spare time. George Wendt plays a priest who condemns him to eternal damnation for it. French Stewart (Stargate, 3rd Rock from the Sun) gets the Fickle Finger of Fate Award for being able to maintain an Arte Johnson impression throughout a whole film as the German scientist Professor von Scheisenberg.

Mimicry is only one extra talent the actors bring into their roles. Rebecca Forsythe contorts her voice and face excruciatingly and exquisitely as Swedish lab assistant Helga. She’s studied quantum, subquantum and super-quantum dynamics, and delivers one of the greatest pickup lines in cinema history: “you would be surprised at how incorrect the calculations of many rocket scientists can be.” Her body proves to be equally supple whether during head-banging sex or in one-on-one martial arts combat.

No one quite makes the faces or shrieks the screams quite like Bodhi Elfman, who plays the lead, a jaded actor named Eddy Pine. Bohdi, the actor playing the actor, is a cartoon character masquerading as a person. His cynical Steve Buscemi-esque delivery grounds him even as the only missed opportunity in the film is a Looney Tunes sight gag where hens lay so many eggs they rise to the roof of Porky Pig’s barn. 

Happily, the camera turns away when the obelisk is introduced to the film. Whether it is just a worthless novelty or the key to the universe, Eddy’s anus is “the chosen portal.” The Chinese military wants the obelisk, there’s an intergalactic battle between alien clowns and green Martians over it, and Dr. von Scheisenberg wants to melt it down for clean energy. About a foot long, and looking like the Washington Monument with squiggly sub-particle lettering, it is also known as the jamtoid key, and is worth more than a three-picture deal, but “money won’t mean nothing if the world explodes.”

Elfman, who also directed Shrunken Heads, and Modern Vampires, has a background in theater, and uses troupe mentality by casting actors in multiple roles. Anastasia Elfman brings the fire of a true believer to five characters. Helga’s sister Inga is played by Angeline-Rose Troy, who also plays Eddy’s junkie-whore mother. The noises she makes in one particular chase scene is so alien and unexpected, it brings the whole movie to another level. Steve Agee plays Eddy’s recently transitioned Burlesque dancer and bar-owning sister Jumbo, as well as the chicken-suit wearing Eddy Pine. Richard Elfman plays the clown Da-Beep. Martin Klebba is an angry clown captain.

The final character is the original soundtrack, which upstages the action in the best of ways. Aliens, Clowns & Geeks could be called a musical, but not in the same way The Rocky Horror Picture Show is, even if there is gender fluidity flowing through it. For the film, Elfman reunited with the Mystic Knights of the Oingo Boingo, who starred in Forbidden Zone. The score was written by Danny Elfman and Ego Plum. Danny Elfman wrote the theme song to The Simpsons, the music to Nightmare Before Christmas, and did the singing voice of Jack Skellington. Plum is best known for the noises he made for SpongeBob SquarePants and The Ghastly Love of Johnny X, but also plays in the band Mambo Demonico. Consisting of 75 minutes in a ninety-minute movie, the music makes the film unique. The diverse mix of genres makes the movie feel like live performance.

Aliens, Clowns & Geeks is laid out in the three-act story structure of classic comedies. It is zany, evoking the feel that logic has been usurped by the most unreasonable intrusions. The film opens on the road. The first victim is a large biker clown who is mind controlled to be some kind of monosyllabic Terminator-style obelisk retrieval machine. Eddy is taking his sorrows for a swim in the deep end of a dive bar. His network series, “Cry Me Dry,” was cancelled a day before it was set to air. Their first encounter is inadvertently suspenseful, as the clueless Eddie chalks up a seemingly random request to another day in Hollywood. 

The movie then takes on a science fiction turn while keeping to an LA Noir sensibility, albeit with frenetic sexcapades (“May you procreate and spread your clown seed wide”), campy caricatures, vampy vehicular battles, and trampy throughlines. Masturbating aliens remotely manipulate blond femme fatales with X-box controllers, making the conquest of earth look like a video game. This highlights the depersonalization of battle, intergalactic or terrestrial. This very human alienation is further accentuated every time the green aliens have to get approval from corporate. There are impossibly surreal scenarios, like a ménage à trois scene where Eddy’s on the bottom and the POV shows the two girls on top. The scene ends in a nuclear explosion, topping the fireworks display of the first climax of Deep Throat. There is a head exploding scene which is more over-the-top than Scanners.

As comedy, each of the set ups have great payoffs, and the running gags never trip up, even if Eddy slips into Shakespearean soliloquies before exiting, stage left. Elfman mocks Hollywood itself, pointing out that the Beverly Hills Police Department only takes calls from celebrities while actors kiss ass on Hollywood Boulevard all day. The film even throws in visual sight gags, like a bucket of brains which is kept in a joint compound container labeled “head stuff.” One character is reading a book called “The Strawberry Fields of Heaven by Blossom Elfman.”

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Aliens, Clowns & Geeks makes no apologies. You just have to go with it. Groucho Marx once advised if nothing else is getting a laugh, “drop your pants.” This turns out to be the greatest weapon of the movie. It saves the day as much as it lowers the bar. It is worshipfully irreverent, and politically incorrect. There is no shame nor the slightest consideration given to cancel culture. “Life is complicated, take if from the guy with a dick in a dress,” we are advised in the film. Even insane biker clowns may not be what they seem. Aliens, Clowns & Geeks is silly, goofy, stupidly intelligent, and absolutely what a mad scientist would order.

Aliens, Clowns & Geeks will be opening in a drive-in run, double billed with Forbidden Zone: Director’s Cut. Details will be announced. 

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[phoena12]

Bring Forth The Sweet Memories Of Old

so just real quick for any that have read my fanfiction, this is something i’ve been working on for a while and thought id share on here!

(you can read the first two chapters here-http://archiveofourown.org/works/11850006/chapters/26752914 

also @omsrandom and @scipunk63 i said id be coming for you via angst, best prepare yourselves fufufu~~

Journal For A Devil ch3

 The studio sits silent, the cries of the prophet having died down to small, harsh whispers falling predator upon the crisp music sheets marked in ritualistic hymns, the slaps and thuds of heavy ink making their way down the decrepit halls, leaving the odd splotch on the walls or flooring, had now disappeared into the gloom of the place. The odd creak of the building could be heard on the occasion, as the foundation shifted or the cries from down below had reached the top floor but, those were best left for another day.

 Our star peers his void optics up from the journal, taking more of the room in. true, the place was rather well organised and clean considering the state the rest of the studio was in, aside from a broken chair with two of its legs missing and the reoccurring theme of ink stains on all the walls and flooring, the room was well looked after. It surprised the demon that Sammy had even managed to retain any memories of Susie after what he had become or maybe, it was just a blind obligation to his lost loved one. How bittersweet, considering the raving lunatic hated the angel down below.

 From what bendy could remember Susie had been quite a conundrum, very loud and bright and full of joy. And so very full of noise. At least, that’s what his other memories told him. He never much cared for the woman, toon or otherwise. And Alice had been no different, sweet and endearing, entrancing all who had come to watch her. It was funny to think how much she lied.

 The two were taken and torn from themselves that day, crawling from the screaming depths the ink machine had spat out, to become a new and horrifying being hell bent on becoming whole and perfect again. A futile endeavour he had thought, no being could become like themselves once entering this place. They were all living evidence of that. Alice was no longer Alice and Susie no longer Susie and neither were the angels they had been, rent from heaven by the cruel hands of Joey Drew. Bendy shuddered, or rippled in his case, reverting his covered gaze to the journal once more. He could no longer hear the ravenous cries of Sammy at having discovered his lord and saviour had visited the old music room. He was probably busy finding some use for the ink that had spilled from Bendy’s form in his haste to depart. You can only spend so many years listening to Sammy’s religious ravings before going a bit nuts yourself and bendy had far more important matters than lacerating his body to inky pieces. Journal still in hand, he flicks through a couple of pages, passing the entries on how Henry’s livelihood went after leaving the company. It doesn’t take long for him to find an interesting entry though, the pages coming to a stop at the day henry joined the studio.

 ~~0~~

 January 2nd 1930

 Today has been a hitch, I finally got a reply to one of my applications! It’s at that small studio on the edge of town, Joey Drew studios, or well, technically it’s called silly vision studios but I guess was originally named after the owner himself. The job itself is as an animator at the studio, looks like things’ll be turning sunny soon enough for me!

  The interview had gone surprisingly well, Mr Drew asked me the standard questions of why I wanted to join and whatnot and when the question of what my previous job was I was able to lie and say it was at some press company. I was pretty sure I was sweating at that point but Mr Drew kept a jovial smile and we continued on.

I was also asked to demonstrate my drawing skills and draw the main character, Bendy, which caught me off guard but I’m never one to back down from a challenge. Mr Drew had gone quiet at this point clearly analysing my skills, it was kinda stressful but as I etched each  line into the paper I began to calm, drawing has always been therapeutic for me and drawing this charming little guy was kinda fun . After having finished the drawing I was heavily praised for the work, receiving compliment after compliment, and a few critiques which was to be expected, but flattering nonetheless! As I listened to Mr Drew praise my drawing I concluded that the man was rather friendly and hospitable, he’s definitely passionate about his cartoon that’s for sure, going on about all the ideas he had for the show and saying he had big plans in store.

  It’s nice to see someone with the same drive as me.

 The interview ended with him shaking my hand and welcoming me to the studio with a big grin akin to the little toon. I didn’t know how to react at first, standing there with my jaw almost hitting the floor (I must’ve looked so shocked!), I mean he just gave me my dream job right on the spot! He gave me a slight slap to the back, his hand remaining there as he ushered me out of the room and further into the studio, saying that if I were to start working here it was only right he give me a tour of the place.

 The studio itself was pretty old, if the dust and cobwebs were anything to go by and it didn’t seem to matter where you stepped, the floorboards creaked if you put even the smallest of weight on them, it was pretty magical actually, like being in a dream. The tour began with walking throughout the halls and entering through different doors into another hallway (the place is like a maze!) until we reached the animation department, which mostly consisted of an old wooden desk and a chair in  front, all tucked away into a little corner. A little odd and reminded me of the small, cramped space I had back at the Pym offices but Mr Drew had said it was so the animators could focus more on their work than on their surroundings or colleagues. I suppose he has a point.

 The next room we stopped at was the break room. It had dim lighting but was well furnished with; chairs, a table which had some cards splayed out on the wooden surface, a rather comfy looking couch with a few stray ink splotches and finally, a small black stove braced against the wall. Mr Drew said that a lot of the employees sometimes stayed to work overnight, especially when a deadline was coming up, and so he had the stove installed so that the workers could eat a proper meal before heading back to work. “It’s important to stay healthy whilst you work and I wouldn’t want any of my colleagues to feel low on energy!” Mr Drew had said, a cheery and noble tune to his voice, this guy really is something else. Mr Drew made his way back up the steep wooden steps we had descended into the room, cheeringly talking about the cartoon and the next department we were to visit. I took one last look around the room, the scent of bacon wafting in my nose, the small dust motes that fell from the ceiling and the array of promotional posters adorned along the walls, each stating the title of the episode with a drawing of Bendy on some adventure. It was cute, more homely than anything and I would’ve liked to spend more time taking it all in but Mr Drew had ascended the steps and was calling my name. Apparently Mr Drew had to have a short talk to the music director and he thought he might as well bring me along to make an introduction but that the music director (Sammy I believe he had called him) wasn’t much for patience with other people and that we might make haste.

 ~~0~~

 Bendy’s eyes roamed over the crinkled page, small huffs rising in anger as he reads more on his creator, an occasional growl clawing its way up his throat, trying to ward off any terrors that the words may invoke. Joey was always a conniving and manipulative guy in the background, his honeyed words and false smile a mask to fool those he suckered into working for him. Sweet sayings to make you think he was pure of heart, hah! The man was foul and grotesque and deserved to rot. Bendy shivers, unwanted memories making a hum beneath his ink. Soft, breathy calls from the past, trying to lure him into madness again. He wouldn’t go back, not yet. He wouldn’t listen to that other mind, the being only whispering mad things and lies. No, he resolves to keep reading, ignoring the mellow hums of angered cries. Just for a little a longer.

 ~~0~~

 The walk to the music department was short and peaceful, occasionally stopping to introduce myself to passing employees. Mr Drew keept a languid pace, odd seeing as he had said the director didn’t like to be kept waiting. I inquire as to our slow pace and the directors lack of patience, Mr Drew replies with a jovial “it’s always fun to make Sammy wait, consider it revenge”. That had me a little worried.

 “Revenge for what?” I had cautiously inquired, perhaps the two didn’t have a great relationship and were using me as a catalyst for their feud. I would like to hope not.

 “hmm, well you see, Sammy has a bad habit of being rather snappy towards people, so this is just a small revenge you see?” again, replying with that same jovial tone, the odd undertone of malice flickering in and out, though his posture remains the same. Stood tall and relaxed, shoulders slightly slacking and a small smile present on his face. His eyes distant as if in thought. I should make a note not to get on Mr Drew’s bad side, he seemed to take great pleasure in the upcoming argument. I simply nod my understanding and continued walking.

 “And besides” he had begun “Sammy always plays best when he thinks he’s alone” a small wink is sent my way.

 I had looked at him in puzzlement before I could hear the faint tunes of a banjo down the hallway. The melody was soft and thrummed with life, each pluck of the string capturing my attention as it filled the hall with its merriment and sombre song. It was like being transported to a different realm, everything falling away as I had unconsciously closed my eyes, trying to sync with the music more. It was beautiful. Beside me, Mr Drew hums along to the tune, although I can say I’ve never heard of anything like it before, his face peaceful and loose, a smile still haunting his lips.

 Before I know it we had arrived at Sammy’s office and Mr Drew pushes through the great oak door with a flourish, the sound of clapping knocking me out of  my reverie and it appeared the same could be said for Sammy, the sound of wood knocking against wood as Sammy snaps from his own trance and drops his banjo. His surprised, youthful face melting away into an old snarl towards Mr Drew as he makes his way towards Sammy’s desk. The harsh claps of his hands faltering for a mere second before making small talk with Sammy. I had stood there in the doorway, still feeling a little dazed and mostly awkward, Mr Drew having momentarily forgotten me to congratulate Sammy on his beautiful rendition of Mozart. The praise is met with taut words and a heated stare.

 Sammy gestures to me after a while, asking if I’m the new guy, to which Mr Drew enthuastically replies that I am and that he was just giving me a tour of the place. Sammy huffs, rubs his face and replies why the hell was Joey bringing an animator down this way just for an introduction, he’s a busy man, and he doesn’t have time for this. Mr Drew promptly replies that if Sammy has time to slack off and play his banjo he has time to make introductions. I couldn’t see Mr Drew’s face, his back being to me but Sammy’s frown seemed to drop a fraction further before he stands and stalks over to me. As he approaches I notice the dark, heavy bags under his eyes, the faint lines on his skin from all that possible frowning and I notice how cold and distant his eyes seem.

 “Well? Ya gonna shake my hand or what?” he had snapped. I hadn’t even realised he had stuck his hand out for me to shake (how rude of me!) and quickly take it in my own, a quick exchange of welcoming being given. He retracts his hand and stuffs it into his pocket. “I’m Sammy, music director for the show, although I have a feeling you already know that” he side eyes Mr Drew, harsh like winter and Mr Drew simply waves back at him, ignoring the anger laced in Sammy’s words. We talk then, just a small bit, telling him my own name and such although I feel a slight hindrance to do so, he is very intimidating.

 For a moment we lapse into silence and before Mr Drew can jump back into the conversation and pester Sammy, said music director promptly pushes us out of his office and bites a “goodbye” through gritted teeth. How charming. Mr Drew just laughs and says that went surprisingly well, considering Sammy is usually more spiteful to new people. My expression must have been rather worried looking as Mr Drew simply says that he’ll get used to me in no time and who knows, we might even be friends. I decided not to make a statement on that.

 ~~0~~

  Bendy lets out something akin to a snort, his breathe coming out in a long huff. Go figures that Sammy was still as spiteful in his youth as he was when Bendy came to be, always with the snarls and cold eyes. Bendy remembers the cries of outrage as he flooded the music director’s office, cursing and spluttering and falling in the ink. Oh those were good times.

 Tired yawns masked pained cries, heavy bags under his eyes, a taut and tight smile when he had to. But that’s only what people saw on the outside. Sammy was a man of music, whenever he had the chance you can bet he’d be playing that old banjo of his, sweet melodies they were, always gentle and lulling you into relaxing, carrying sombre lyrics if he felt like it. Truly Sammy was one of a kind, snarky and ill-mannered as he was, he had a cracked heart of gold.

 A faint memory, like the flutter of a birds wings, sings at the back of Bendy’s mind. An old memory but a good one, as someone peers from around a corner, agitation vibrating throughout their body, to find a young Sammy Lawrence crouched low, muttering soft words to a distressed child. It appears the child has lost his toy and no adults seem to be around. A dangerous place to get lost, the toy workshop, too many winding mechanisms the child could get trapped in. Sammy coos at the child, picks them up in his arms and heads over to Shaun’s workshop. The memory flickers and wavers before being replaced with a new one, this time the person viewing the scene is surrounded by small children, tired but keeping up a pleasant façade for the little ones, each asking different questions about the cartoons. Sammy is nowhere to be seen. As the person begins to talk, their voice sounding static and warbled, a small child trots from around a corner to join his classmates, a small bendy plush clutched tightly to his chest. The man speaking looks up in the direction the child had come from to see Sammy taking off back around the corner, a small, soft smile on his face.

 A good memory and a very rare one at that. Sammy always had a soft spot for kids, which when Franks had found out, loved to tease him about. But how odd. For what purpose did Sammy of all people have down at the toy workshop?

 Bendy breaks from his musing. This is dangerous he knows. To remember so many things at once but he was getting close, he could feel it. Close to unlocking something, he need only bear a few more pains and he would finally have his answers.

 He reads on.

 ~~0~~

 After leaving the music department and the foreboding aura of Sammy behind we continue on our way to our last stop, the screening room, to meet a man called Norman Polk. Along the way, Mr Drew talks animatedly about the cartoon, I tried to ask questions and make my own comments but the man was on such a roll that I couldn’t get a word in edgeways. I continued to walk in silence more than happy to listen to him talk.

 Whilst on our way to the screening room, we meet with a young black man, unruly black hair and, when he took note of our approach, an even more unruly smile to match. He carried a pail of inky black water in one hand and a mop in his other, held forward as it were a staff of some kind to ward of any ill luck. He greets us with a smile and gives me a once over. Mr Drew introduces me and we make small talk, the occasional joke flitting back and forth at Mr Drew’s expense and to my embarrassment. The man’s name is Wally Franks, janitor to the studio and, through Mr Drew’s words, the crown fool of the studio. A wink is sent my way upon being told that, he seems a rather coy fellow if the smirks and winks are anything to go by. But it was odd, I recall Mr Drew seeming rather irritated by his snickers, as if they carried more malice than what was being intended. How odd. He let a sigh out, long and tiring, says “Welp, this place ain’t gonna clean itself” and leaves, his smirk falling a bit. Despite his cocky attitude I sensed that he did not enjoy his job very much.

 As soon as Wally is out of sight, Mr Drew lets out a small sigh, says to not take any of Wally’s future pranks too seriously and that he apologises in advance for his colleague’s antics. I simply wave him off and tell him not to worry. Surely he can’t be that bad?

 The rest of the walk to the screening room is mostly silent, Mr Drew keeping his head forward and posture straight. He definitely seems to carry authority. Having thought that at the time it made me look back on Hank and how similar the two are. Very well kept, neat and tidy individuals, an intelligent glint to their eyes. The difference being that Mr Drew always seemed to have a smile on his face, a light and jovial tone even when dealing with people he didn’t like. Far different from Hank. Lost in my thoughts again I am brought back by a soft nudge, Mr Drew asks if I’m ok and I stammer and say that I am. We had arrived at the screening room and entered.

 Before us were two to three rows of chairs messily disorganised in front of a blank wall, a square of light shining down to create a panel on the old wood. A few instruments were laid about the room, a discarded cello, a big drum propped in the corner and a solitary piano to the other side, its lid open invitingly. Mr Drew gives the room a quick survey and calls out Norman’s name but it heeds no reply. Having said that upon entering the room I had felt as if I were being watched and can say that was indeed the case as the projectionist himself pops up behind us out of nowhere, startling both of us. I nervously chuckle as Mr Drew swings round and scolds Norman. The man replies with a “did you not hear me come down the stairs?” and Mr Drew laughs. The two bicker a few more moments before Mr Drew introduces me to Norman. I take note that he’s quite tall and has a knowing look about his eyes.

 He stares at me a few moments, and I feel a sense of foreboding, he asks “do you know a guy name Pym?” and I nearly blanche. My first day here and already someone has outed me as being the previous co-manager for Pym and co. or so I thought as I reply with a calm “no”, sweat trickling down my back. He shrugs his shoulders and continues on with introductions and how the screening room works, seemingly dissuaded from my connection to Hank, though were he made the connection to begin with still eludes me. I ignore Mr Drew’s curious glances and shrug my shoulders in turn, hopefully that is enough to deter him for some time, though lady luck is never one to favour me for long.

 I discuss the screening room at length with Norman, hoping that he’s forgotten about the subject all together and we end the conversation with the authoritive nonchalance of Mr Drew proclaiming that time for touring the studio was up. Something about an upcoming deadline and financing that needed attending to. I give my regards to Norman and as we leave the lit up room I felt the burning of his eyes never leaving my form, I’ll have to keep an eye out for him whilst I’m here.

 ~~0~~

 Bendy had a certain fondness for Wally, mainly for the fact he loved mischief as much as he did when first coming to the world, and he was a great scape goat for all his pranks. Not that Joey could really scold the little toon for his mischief when every other living being inside the studio had no idea he existed physically. Bendy also thought that Wally would have made for a good friend, someone to talk to and make mischief together. But those were dreams of folly he knew and he had kept his presence hidden from most at the time. He thought it a shame as to what happened to Wally but then again, nothing full of life and joy lasts long down here.

 Most being the key word there, as despite his efforts the little toon could not keep his playful antics at bay when regarding Norman. The man was a difficulty to get a rise out of and in Bendy’s short time he tried to get the man to jump or squeal just once. And he went too far and paid the price for it, or rather Norman did. It was only meant to be a small trick, something simple that was sure to get a rise out of the silent man but much to Bendy’s negligence at the time, he failed to hear the approaching footsteps and was seen momentarily by him. He had the feeling that Norman didn’t much like him, his hard stare always following the ink demons form wherever he was, his cool optics burning holes into his form as he roamed around his domain. Even when he was out of sight, he could still feel his projected gaze seeking him out from the shadows. Bendy tended to avoid him from then on in if he could and always carried a niggling sense of guilt at his unfavourable demise. If Joey wanted something to stay secret it would be held so by any means.

 ~~0~~

 Mr Drew ends the tour with seeing me to the front door, sunlight pouring forth into the studio, and tells me he’ll see me next Monday fresh and early to start work. I’ll be given a more in depth description of the workings of the animation department on Monday I suppose. That day when I left the comforting warmth of the studio and into the brittle cold air of January, I felt happy. Though as I say, lady luck only gives her favours on short terms bases as I arrived to my small apartment. I entered to find the place ransacked. Luckily the vial and journal had managed to stay hidden and untouched. I wonder if I could hide it at the studio, there are plenty of places to hide them and I doubt that S.H.I.E.L.D. would think to look there, it is better than keeping them here where they may be found.

 ~~0~~

 With the end of the entry Bendy is left with impossibly more questions than he started out with. It makes his head ache impossibly more and his vision blurs slightly. It would seem he has pushed his own luck a bit far today, the voices cased within his ink, squirming around, chattering relentlessly. He places the tattered book upon the desk, beginning to weary of reading and notices a small face on the bottom of the page. It’s his face. His old one. With eyes full of joy and mischief and a big grin to match. A couple of lines are wobbly and then Bendy feels himself swaying and suddenly it’s all too much. The memories surge beneath his ink, pressing and rippling against his body, trying to force their knowledge unto him with overwhelming strength.

 Bendy can hear them, the faint chatter of co-workers passing through the halls, the scratch of pen to paper as an animator inks out his star creation of the studio with a fluid grace, the cursed mumbles of Joey as he pours over a leather bound book, scratching symbols and jumbled words onto a piece of bloodied paper. His form sinks to the ground, heavy drops of ink falling at his sudden descent to pool on the floor, his clawed hands raking at his face to try and free himself from the stinging sounds and fractured images. He remembers everything in that short time, writhing in pain on the floor as image after gory image wracks his body with shock. He fights with himself trying to unsee all the crimson ink that stains a pentagram by his feet, projecting a fiery glare about the room.  He tries to block out all the sound too but it does nothing except ricochet around his head with more force. He knew reading the journal would cost him some sacrifice but to this extent he had not expected.  

 What a fool he was, hmm?

 Bendy knows the best way to handle the situation is to let the ink takes its course, thrumming and throbbing throughout his entire body , slowly diminishing him in size as huge globs of ink stream from his body still. But he couldn’t, the rage and pain coinciding to rip a roar, more similar to that of a human cry of pain and a demons murderous growl, from his throat and thunder throughout the studio.

 And all the while the tattered journal that sat silent and forgotten, lay open atop the desk, the doodle of Bendy staring sightlessly toward the ceiling, its mouth now casting an ominous and cruel grin.

[transmxnfenris]

mat, ruairi and jacobi? :o

Full Name: Mirek Alois Toman, but call him “Mat”Gender and Sexuality: He’s genderfluid and bi but sex repulsedPronouns: Anything, usually goes by he/him just for convenience but he’s happy with any pronouns what so ever. Ethnicity/Species: White CzechBirthplace and Birthdate: He was born in the Czech Republic, near the Slovakia border but I don’t quite remember the name of the exact town. His birth date is 2nd of August, 1994Guilty Pleasures: Children’s cartoons, ghost stories, and haunted attractions. He loves American roadside attractions and wants to do a roadtrip of a bunch of them one day. Phobias: Hospitals, germophobia, pharmaceuticals, medical procedures. What They Would Be Famous For: Their whole serial killer thingWhat They Would Get Arrested For: Probably the serial killer thingOC You Ship Them With: Your Ariel ofc!OC Most Likely To Murder Them: Um, hm... I dunno, a lot of people could kill them. Mat is an asshole. I think Ariel might in some verses. Favorite Movie/Book Genre: He loves anything silly, comic, and dark.Least Favorite Movie/Book Cliche: He hates villains with motivations and explanations, he likes them just to be evil for the hell of it. Talents and/or Powers: I think his only real talent is killing and maiming, he’s not very good at anything else. He’s very good at not getting caught.Why Someone Might Love Them: A lot of people feel sorry for him and describe him as a “cripple” or a “sick dog”. They’d probably feel obligated to. Why Someone Might Hate Them: They’d find out he was a killer, because when Mat realised they felt sorry for him they’d be his next victim. How They Change: I’m not sure he does. He gets better with people and relationships once he meets Ariel. Why You Love Them: He’s my awful, gross as hell, in desperate need of therapy, murderous son. 

Full Name: Ruairi Conor MaddiganGender and Sexuality: Cis guy-ish (he’s intersex so it muddles things up) and quoiromantic/sexualPronouns: he/him/hisEthnicity/Species: Mixed race (Irish/Thai)Birthplace and Birthdate: Kilkenny, Ireland and 29th July, 1996Guilty Pleasures: Video games, he’s really embarrassed about it because he thinks their childish and he wants to be seen as the big boss man.Phobias: Putting on weight, food, and alcohol.What They Would Be Famous For: Being an infamous mob boss type.What They Would Get Arrested For: Being an infamous mob boss type. OC You Ship Them With: Your Eden of course! OC Most Likely To Murder Them: Oh god, any of them.Favorite Movie/Book Genre: Psychological horror thingsLeast Favorite Movie/Book Cliche: He hates redemption arcs, he thinks the villains should stick to their guns. Talents and/or Powers: Maths, manipulating people, and problem solving.Why Someone Might Love Them: Because he would manipulate you into doing so and convince you he’s a good, wonderful guy. Why Someone Might Hate Them: Because they’d realise they had been manipulated and discover he’s a terrible, violent, asshole. How They Change: They go from “everyone is a cunt to be used and toyed with and are all going to hurt me” to “this is the case with everyone except this incredibly beautiful person”.Why You Love Them: He’s my only OC with very few redeeming qualities. He is such an asshole. 

Full Name: Jacobi Claude Seth TrevelyanGender and Sexuality: Trans man and biromantic asexualPronouns: He/him/hisEthnicity/Species: Human, Free Marcher specifically, Jewish (I mean, Dragon Age doesn’t have literal Judaism but he’s like, Jewish coded.)Birthplace and Birthdate: Free Marches and birthdate would require me to do some difficult Dragon Age calendar maths but he’s 27.Guilty Pleasures: Bad romance novels, sugary sweets, and pulling pranks on the Skyhold residents with Sera (even though he SHOULD be above such things - he’s not.)Phobias: Spiders, sex, loud noises, and his own trauma repeating itself.What They Would Be Famous For: It would be the Inquisitor thing I think.What They Would Get Arrested For: He was already arrested but probably treason and massmurder. OC You Ship Them With: I don’t have an OC I ship them with but his boyfriend is in game character Dorian Pavus. I suppose if I had to pair them up with one of my guys it would probably be ... I have no idea. I haven’t thought about it before.OC Most Likely To Murder Them: In terms of DA OCs probably Czikin Brosca. In terms of all OCs Mat because he’d kill anyone.Favorite Movie/Book Genre: Romance, particularly romantic comedies.Least Favorite Movie/Book Cliche: He hates how consent is portrayed in a lot of things since it’s not *real consent*. It gives him bad feelings. Talents and/or Powers: Archery, running, building things. Why Someone Might Love Them: He’s a genuinely caring, wonderful guy who just wants everyone to be happy and tries to hard to make everything good for everyone. Why Someone Might Hate Them: He can be annoying, hates the Chantry with a furious vengeance and has the sense of humour of a six year old. How They Change: He becomes more at ease with himself, his confidence grows, and he realises his trauma wasn’t his fault. Why You Love Them: He’s a sweet boy who deserves all of the good in the world and one of my only genuinely good OCs.

[novantinuum]

First Summerween (one-shot)

Adding a needlessly fancy flourish to his final pen stroke, the young researcher finished the latest entry in his journal. A giddy excitement lightened his features as he proofread his work, an entry on a species of bioluminescent wildflowers that he caught migrating from clearing to clearing in the dead of night.

He spent last night following their bluish-green glow and observing the way in which the organisms interacted with each other. Fascinatingly, he found that the flowers’ roots behaved much like appendages when they upended themselves from the soil. A part of him still suspected a capacity for intelligent conversation within the precise way the flowers waltzed around each other, but he needed more time to observe before he could pull any assumptions. (Of course, the silly comparison that tickled his mind was of the dancing broomsticks in that old children’s cartoon about the mouse and the magician.) Overall it was an illuminating and magical experience, pun entirely intended. The discovery of this species was also exactly what he needed to keep his morale up and his curiosity burning.

Since arriving here in Gravity Falls two months ago, he hadn't encountered enough mystery. Sure, there was that massive tree ent that utterly demolished his car on his first day in town- “Steve,” as he affectionately called him- but past that incident, the woods remained suspiciously silent. Day after day he trekked under the evergreens’ thick boughs and returned with not even a page of notes. He swore the forest was messing with him… flashing shadows on underbrush when his back was turned, all its creatures falling silent when he settled in a clearing to wait and observe. He almost wondered if- if whatever weird creatures that lived in the woods were studying him. Perhaps they were probing for weaknesses, or determining whether they found him to be a threat. Conducting their own research on humanity in parallel to his…

If there was one thing he knew for certain the forest was teeming with life, its heartbeat pulsing with a avid tempo. However, precisely when its denizens would accept his presence in their habitat and reveal themselves was knowledge he’d yet to glean.

Ford leaned close to his journal and blew over the pages, wanting the ink dry before he moved on to other business. Satisfied that it wouldn’t smudge, he gently closed the thick hardbound book and crossed into the kitchen. An orange  tinted glow filtered through the window blinds, bathing the room in the sunset’s calming ambiance.

He swung open the cupboard, a sudden craving for a hearty soup gnawing at his stomach. Hunger clawed at his innards with a ferocity he hadn’t experienced since that one week in college he lived off nothing but stale tortillas and canned beans. Had he really not eaten since last night’s dinner again? Stanford sighed, running a hand through the thick curls of hair behind his ear. Damn. That was a devilishly bad habit to start, one he’d better nip in the bud. He grabbed the first canned soup he saw and a small pot to cook it in. The young man had just turned on the stove when something knock against the exterior of his house.

Ford stiffened, and shut everything off. Did… did he really hear what he thought he heard?

He waited, slowing his breathing enough for it to remain silent. His limbs twitched with unspent energy. Could this be it? Could this finally be his big break? Another creature to study and catalogue? The knocking noise beat against the wall again, this time in urgent staccato. Slowly, so as to not create a deluge of unnecessary noise, he crept across the edges of the wood floors- not yet settled- and nabbed his old polaroid camera from the table. Ford draped the camera’s strap securely around his neck and reached towards the door knob, nerves alight with anticipation.

“Slowly,” he reminded himself. “Don’t want to scare it away…”

He gripped the knob and turned, pulling the door slightly ajar to peer out.

Ch-children?

The researcher swung the door open wide, staring at the two young kids with his mouth rounded in surprise. One was dressed as some spandex-clad hero and the other as a rather macabre zombie, covered in fake blood. They couldn’t be older than twelve. He could almost feel the adrenaline in his veins recede in the disappointing absence of a new creature. His brows furrowed. What on earth could two children want at this time in the evening, and how did they know he lived back here? No neighbors lived nearby for miles, and he’d only settled in Gravity Falls two months ago.

Ford smiled hesitantly. “Uh- greetings, kids! What can I do for you two?”

The kids shoved burlap bags forwards, and the speed of the movement startled him enough that he stumbled backwards on his heels.

“Trick or treat!!” they exclaimed, twin smiles lighting up their faces.

Oh. Oh.

The costumes, the bags half filled with candy, it all made sense now. Well… it kind of made sense. This particular path of logic derailed when he remembered that it was late June, not October. After another second of deliberation he concluded that the kids were probably just having a bit of fun, trying to see who they could make a fool of. From the few excursions he’d made into town, a few of the townsfolk sadly appeared clueless enough to fall for such a trick. Lord knows he played equivalently dumb pranks on the neighbors as a boy. (Albeit not alone.)

He nervously clasped his hands behind his back and sighed, trying to formulate the best way to communicate this to the kids.

“Listen you two, I think it’s wonderful you’re having fun in the great outdoors like this, but it’s still only June. Halloween doesn’t come until October.” Keeping a wary eye on their reactions, he added, “I’d also appreciate if you didn’t trespass onto my property in the future.”

The zombie kid whispered to the other one. Ford inclined his neck to hear clearer, and only managed to pick up the last half of it. Something about “he doesn’t know,” and “see, I told you he’s new to town.” Didn’t know what?

“Common’, just give us some candy, mister!” the one in the spandex outfit whined. “We walked so far!”

“But it’s not Halloween,” Ford insisted, perplexed.

“No, it’s Summerween!” the zombie corrected. “It’s all the fun of Halloween but in summer. We always celebrate twice here. And if you just give us some candy I promise we’ll leave you alone!”

“We’ll tell our friends to skip your house, too!" his friend chimed in.

The young adult rubbed a few fingers against his temple, beginning to find this whole situation infuriating. He was now utterly sure that the kids were duping him. Summerween?? Halloween, but in summer? Who had ever heard of such a silly idea?  And these children had the gall to tromp all the way to his door and just demand candy from him? Were all the children in town this tricky and exacerbating?

“I don’t have any candy to give you,” he said matter-of-factly, gesturing towards their burlap sacks. His stomach grumbled, thinking of the uncooked soup still in the pan in the kitchen. “I’m sorry, I don’t.”

His response must have struck a negative chord because the children began to whine and grumble at him, their increasingly angered outbursts overlapping one another’s.

“Aww, common!”

“Not even one piece?”

“You’re just being mean, mister.”

“This just plain sucks!”

Ford threw his hands to the side, his patience with the children all but shattered. “Fine!” he snapped, and paced to the kitchen to rummage in his shelves for any sweets he may have. If candy was the only thing that would make these insolent kids go away, then candy it would be. He was almost positive they were manipulating him, but he was far past reasoning at this point. He only wanted them off his front porch. With longing, he glanced at the soup on the counter.

His footsteps regretfully sounding a bit more angry than he intended, he found himself back at the door. Ford bit at his lip when he saw the children react in slight fear to his apparent anger, both backing away from the door.

“Here,” he said gruffly, offering two small packages of black licorice to them. Black licorice he had fully intended to snack on later. He considered giving them some jelly beans since kids were more likely to enjoy those, but decided he was too selfish to give his favorite candy up. The licorice would have to do. "Stay safe in the woods. Good night."

The children silently and hastily nodded their thanks and ran off with their burlap sacks between the trees, towards town. Suddenly feeling far more weary than any man in their mid twenties had any right to be, Ford leaned against the doorpost, watching them fade into the thick underbrush.

Too distracted by the thought of his waiting dinner, he never noticed them throw the licorice to the ground at the outskirts of the clearing in disgust.

I’m too tired to continue this but Ford ends up meeting the Summerween trickster, who mistakingly thinks HE threw that loser candy to the ground, and after clearing things up and apologizing for any offense made they chat for a few hours and Ford makes him tea. He ends up as one of the first big passages in Ford’s first journal. Also, moral of the story is don’t annoy Ford when he’s hungry.

[hoodieimp]

Ok @theamazinglei​ I hope you don’t mind me using your tags here but aaAAA--

first of all THANK YOU!! like holy crap i’m Amazed at all the likes n positive feedback this silly little snippet of an idea got in just one day? it means So MUch to me !!

second of all you must be PSYCHIC or something?? because i’ spent the other day comin up w character outlines for the different Bendys that’re currently sitting in my drafts and this lines up SO WELL with what i’ve got so far??? and i absolutely don’t mind u sharing at all, it’s super cool)

like YES THE “-Y” NAMING SCHEME IS A THING! (Henry is a complete dork when it comes to naming things lmao) 

Concept Bendy goes by “Bitey”! (u were close sasfdsf) I like to imagine he’s the closest to cartoon!Bendy personality-wise--sweet but mischevious and loves to play pranks (he may or may not be the one responsible for moving the cutouts around). and yeah, he will totally eat anything and everything he can fit in his gross interdimensional nightmare maw, though his favorite is bacon soup (he eats them can and all)

Alpha Bendy gets dubbed “Goopy”--he is in fact completely blind and mostly feels his way around by vibrations in the ink, so the other two usually lead him around. He’s also extremely skilled when it comes to navigating the studio--his amorphousness means he can do things like ooze underneath locked doors, squeeze through debris from a collapsed ceiling, and fall from great heights without getting hurt! he can also manipulate the ink itself to some extent, which lets him mess w the studio’s plumbing/machinery

and I actually did name Beta Inky “Lanky”!!! he’s a big soft boi who’s scared of his own shadow (and will usually attempt to hide behind Goopy or Bitey even tho he’s got like 2 feet of height on both of them)--he’s also blind in the one eye but has hypersensitive hearing to make up for it (which unfortunately makes him easily overstimulated by loud/excessive noises..), and uses his ink “webs” to “map out” his surroundings (which also greatly helps Goopy!) he can’t rly control them tho, they tend to thicken and drip extra ink when he’s distressed or upset. 

oh and did i mention he’s a BIG hugger? (rip Henry’s back)

Bendy AU

Where everything is mostly the same, except all of the “beta” versions of Ink Bendy are alive and hiding in the depths of the studio together a la the Off-Colors from SU

bonus: they’re all actually really sweet and friendly and will team up w Henry and follow him around like giant messed-up ducklings sajdgdgwr

[aion-rsa]

Aliens, Clowns & Geeks Review: Sci-Fi Comedy Aims Low And Scores High

https://ift.tt/eA8V8J

No one sets out to make a cult movie. Most filmmakers aspire to commercial heights even if they only have the budgets for a B-movie. They see films like Blair Witch realign box office accounting and apply all kinds of quantum physics to mimic the exponential multiplication. Very few achieve it, and the ones which do usually do it by accident, and certainly not with serious intent. Aliens, Clowns & Geeks is not afraid to be ridiculous. It joins the ranks as such brave films as Attack of the Killer Tomatoes, Killer Klowns From Outer Space, and Frankenhooker.

It is also so much more than these films, dripping with artistry, and yet considerably less, with masturbating aliens, pussy ping pong, and sphincter-pinching obelisks. Richard Elfman’s sci-fi comedy has an abundance of experimental fun and a happily reckless disregard for taste. It owes as much to Frank Zappa as it does to Frank Capra, and can in some ways be seen as a screwball comedy take on the 1955 film noir classic Kiss Me Deadly. For a silly film, Aliens, Clowns & Geeks summons serious plot twists. It captures the casual surrealism of the Marx Brothers in hyper-speed.

Though it’s not on the level as Forbidden Zone, how could it be? Elfman’s 1980 cult classic ranks way past closing time on the clock of midnight movies. Aliens, Clowns & Geeks is still completely original. Unlike other films where low budget hobbles creativity, this uses a lack of funds to its advantage. In some ways this is like Tim Burton’s Mars Attacks!, except done on one-thousandth of the budget and with 1/100th of the stars. Aliens, Clowns & Geeks marks the final feature film role for the late Verne Troyer (Austin Powers: The Spy Who Shagged Me, Goldmember, Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone). His Clown Emperor Beezel-Chugg is a memorable turn. Narcissistic, lethal, and commanding, he is the Emperor of the Nine Planet Federation, and still gets hauled in for Illegal dwarf tossing.

The little clown who gets tossed around is played by Nic Novicki, but don’t feel too bad for him, he takes dirty pictures of nuns in porta-potties in his spare time. George Wendt plays a priest who condemns him to eternal damnation for it. French Stewart (Stargate, 3rd Rock from the Sun) gets the Fickle Finger of Fate Award for being able to maintain an Arte Johnson impression throughout a whole film as the German scientist Professor von Scheisenberg.

Mimicry is only one extra talent the actors bring into their roles. Rebecca Forsythe contorts her voice and face excruciatingly and exquisitely as Swedish lab assistant Helga. She’s studied quantum, subquantum and super-quantum dynamics, and delivers one of the greatest pickup lines in cinema history: “you would be surprised at how incorrect the calculations of many rocket scientists can be.” Her body proves to be equally supple whether during head-banging sex or in one-on-one martial arts combat.

No one quite makes the faces or shrieks the screams quite like Bodhi Elfman, who plays the lead, a jaded actor named Eddy Pine. Bohdi, the actor playing the actor, is a cartoon character masquerading as a person. His cynical Steve Buscemi-esque delivery grounds him even as the only missed opportunity in the film is a Looney Tunes sight gag where hens lay so many eggs they rise to the roof of Porky Pig’s barn. 

Happily, the camera turns away when the obelisk is introduced to the film. Whether it is just a worthless novelty or the key to the universe, Eddy’s anus is “the chosen portal.” The Chinese military wants the obelisk, there’s an intergalactic battle between alien clowns and green Martians over it, and Dr. von Scheisenberg wants to melt it down for clean energy. About a foot long, and looking like the Washington Monument with squiggly sub-particle lettering, it is also known as the jamtoid key, and is worth more than a three-picture deal, but “money won’t mean nothing if the world explodes.”

Elfman, who also directed Shrunken Heads, and Modern Vampires, has a background in theater, and uses troupe mentality by casting actors in multiple roles. Anastasia Elfman brings the fire of a true believer to five characters. Helga’s sister Inga is played by Angeline-Rose Troy, who also plays Eddy’s junkie-whore mother. The noises she makes in one particular chase scene is so alien and unexpected, it brings the whole movie to another level. Steve Agee plays Eddy’s recently transitioned Burlesque dancer and bar-owning sister Jumbo, as well as the chicken-suit wearing Eddy Pine. Richard Elfman plays the clown Da-Beep. Martin Klebba is an angry clown captain.

The final character is the original soundtrack, which upstages the action in the best of ways. Aliens, Clowns & Geeks could be called a musical, but not in the same way The Rocky Horror Picture Show is, even if there is gender fluidity flowing through it. For the film, Elfman reunited with the Mystic Knights of the Oingo Boingo, who starred in Forbidden Zone. The score was written by Danny Elfman and Ego Plum. Danny Elfman wrote the theme song to The Simpsons, the music to Nightmare Before Christmas, and did the singing voice of Jack Skellington. Plum is best known for the noises he made for SpongeBob SquarePants and The Ghastly Love of Johnny X, but also plays in the band Mambo Demonico. Consisting of 75 minutes in a ninety-minute movie, the music makes the film unique. The diverse mix of genres makes the movie feel like live performance.

Aliens, Clowns & Geeks is laid out in the three-act story structure of classic comedies. It is zany, evoking the feel that logic has been usurped by the most unreasonable intrusions. The film opens on the road. The first victim is a large biker clown who is mind controlled to be some kind of monosyllabic Terminator-style obelisk retrieval machine. Eddy is taking his sorrows for a swim in the deep end of a dive bar. His network series, “Cry Me Dry,” was cancelled a day before it was set to air. Their first encounter is inadvertently suspenseful, as the clueless Eddie chalks up a seemingly random request to another day in Hollywood. 

The movie then takes on a science fiction turn while keeping to an LA Noir sensibility, albeit with frenetic sexcapades (“May you procreate and spread your clown seed wide”), campy caricatures, vampy vehicular battles, and trampy throughlines. Masturbating aliens remotely manipulate blond femme fatales with X-box controllers, making the conquest of earth look like a video game. This highlights the depersonalization of battle, intergalactic or terrestrial. This very human alienation is further accentuated every time the green aliens have to get approval from corporate. There are impossibly surreal scenarios, like a ménage à trois scene where Eddy’s on the bottom and the POV shows the two girls on top. The scene ends in a nuclear explosion, topping the fireworks display of the first climax of Deep Throat. There is a head exploding scene which is more over-the-top than Scanners.

As comedy, each of the set ups have great payoffs, and the running gags never trip up, even if Eddy slips into Shakespearean soliloquies before exiting, stage left. Elfman mocks Hollywood itself, pointing out that the Beverly Hills Police Department only takes calls from celebrities while actors kiss ass on Hollywood Boulevard all day. The film even throws in visual sight gags, like a bucket of brains which is kept in a joint compound container labeled “head stuff.” One character is reading a book called “The Strawberry Fields of Heaven by Blossom Elfman.”

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Aliens, Clowns & Geeks makes no apologies. You just have to go with it. Groucho Marx once advised if nothing else is getting a laugh, “drop your pants.” This turns out to be the greatest weapon of the movie. It saves the day as much as it lowers the bar. It is worshipfully irreverent, and politically incorrect. There is no shame nor the slightest consideration given to cancel culture. “Life is complicated, take if from the guy with a dick in a dress,” we are advised in the film. Even insane biker clowns may not be what they seem. Aliens, Clowns & Geeks is silly, goofy, stupidly intelligent, and absolutely what a mad scientist would order.

Aliens, Clowns & Geeks will be opening in a drive-in run, double billed with Forbidden Zone: Director’s Cut. Details will be announced. 

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