Black Licorice

[Independent Bendy and the Ink Machine RP/Ask blog. Semi-selective. Please read rules before interacting.]

[monsterwaltz]

[monsterwaltz]

reincarny-catcher:

Spite knew he was throwing a lot of terms at Bendy, but he could only explain so much. He tackled the issues in order.

“That’s what I meant by card games are complicated. Honestly, I wouldn’t even know how Yu-Gi-Oh! worked if I didn’t watch a bunch of humans play it. ATK is short for attack, a normal summon is putting a card on the table without any extra requirements, quick effect is something you can usually play instantly, if I recall correctly, a dark monster is a– Ah, forget it,” Spite waved a hand dismissively, “I need to sit you down for a talk about card games. That card has a lot to it.”

“A manga is a comic book, though it’s usually used by English speakers to mean a Japanese comic specifically. Anime is sort for animation, but English speakers say that to refer to Japanese cartoons. Standalone means it’s a work by itself that you don’t need prior knowledge for. The year is–” Spite had to stifle a laugh when Bendy made his guess. He wasn’t very successful. “Oh, Bendy, you’re nearly 30 years behind. It’s 2018 right now. You’ve missed a whole lot of current popular culture. Well, I assume you’re abbreviating 80s and 90s to mean 1980 and 1990. If you’re thinking 1880s or something, you are way off.” 

Spite had to take a pause before answering Bendy’s next question. The Necronomicon was an actual book? Not only that, the Necronomicon was a book that Bendy has read? What all magic did Bendy’s Hell have access to? All these realities and fictions merging together, though he should have been used to it by now, sometimes still have him trouble. He was used to a strict heaven/hell system with no outside forces. The idea that elder gods existed was concerning, to say the least.

“No, I do mean Neonomicon. It’s uhh…” Spite bit his lip as he searched for the words to sugar-coat the mess that was that comic. His best descriptor would still be something Bendy wouldn’t understand. Finally, he came up with a blunt description. “Well, imagine if the crazy cults who worship the elder gods were basically a rape cult and that due to nonlinear time circumstances that a fish man impregnated a modern-day woman with Cthulhu. That’s basically Neonomicon.” Spite’s earlier concern rose up again. “Is the Necronomicon an actual book? Are elder gods a thing where you come from?”

“Yeah, I ain’t really in the mood to learn something that complicated right now,” Bendy said, slipping the deck into his jacket pocket. Maybe he’d take a closer look at the art later, at least. “Maybe next time we just hang around the house or something.”

It struck Bendy as a little odd that they bothered to use different words to refer to the same thing, just from different countries. The comics by French authors weren’t labeled ‘des bandes dessinées,’ so why would the Japanese comics have their own category?

Bendy was considerably further off the mark than thirty years. He genuinely assumed Spite was talking about the decade ‘eighty,’ though it made sense that humans would have had calendars running much, much longer than that, now that he thought harder about it. “2018,” he repeated. “I’ll try not to forget.”

The comic Spite described did not sound very pleasant. Bendy liked horror, but that just sounded....distasteful. “I don’t think I’ll be reading that one,” he said. “Thanks for the warning.” 

Spite’s surprise at the mention of the book caught Bendy off-guard. Did the demons in Spite’s hell just not really learn much about magic? But he had seen Spite levitating things, and he could teleport. “Yeah,” he said, “It’s just another grimoire. We read dozens of ‘em in school. I don’t remember that one all that well.” He stared off into space, tapping his foot for a few moments, trying to recall something about it to satisfy Spite’s curiosity. “I think that’s the one that was in Arabic originally, but got translated a whole bunch of times, and we read the Latin version instead of the original for some reason? Yeah, I don’t remember much else about it. Maybe it was another list of obscure deities and summoning rituals for ‘em? In that case, it probably didn’t hold my attention. I’m, uh, not a great reader. Anyway, don’t you guys use magic, too? Do you not work out of books, or something?”

[monsterwaltz]

reincarny-catcher:

“Can do, though if they do have card game tourneys we might not be allowed in without paying. Some places do that. I’ve seen a reincarny pay five bucks just to get his ass handed to him in Yu-Gi-Oh!. Sad, really. In the funny way. But yes, there is a whole culture around these sorts of things.”

Once inside, Spite took in his surroundings. This was a sleazy store, but he was used to sleaze. The fact that no one else was browsing and that the sole store attendant was inattentive made him feel better about walking about in public. In fact, that left him free to steal. Using his telekinesis, Spite selected a structure deck of Yu-Gi-Oh! cards and levitated it over to himself and Bendy, taking care to not have the cards float in front of the cashier. He opened the package as best as he could, although he did leave some tears from the tape. He handed the cards to Bendy.

“This is a TCG, a trading card game. There are a million types out there with a million cards, all made to get your money. Lots of them have complicated rules. This one’s Yu-Gi-Oh!, it’s based on a game in a manga turned anime. People play these things for fun, but some compete for money, like those loud nerds upstairs.” He gave Bendy some time to shuffle through the deck. This gave Spite some time to look around more. The boxes on the shelves were marked with the names of publishing companies and letters of the alphabet to show what was inside. The shelves themselves also had little index cards saying the genres or the authors of various graphic novel collections, save for the one small manga shelf that was simply labeled “manga.”

Spite was amused to hear Bendy curse and let out a small chuckle. “Heh, I know, this place isn’t the best in terms of organization, but for a novice like you, I can point out what to pick up. This way.” Spite walked ahead and gestured to a shelf labeled “Alan Moore.” Spite, thankfully, was able to reach the shelf as long as he stood on his tip-toes. He found his recommendation easily. After flipping through it to see if was in good condition, he handed it to Bendy as well.

“This is called Watchmen. It’s pretty dark, but it’s regarded as one of the best graphic novels of all time. It’s standalone, too, so you don’t have to read thousands of other issues to learn what’s going on. Well, unless you count that Before Watchmen crap, but I wouldn’t. It’s kinda connected to some real world issues. Issues of the 80′s, but still issues. Ooh, and,” Spite picked up another book. “This one is V for Vendetta. Another good one. It’s dark, too, but there’s a shred of hope to it if you think about it. Alan Moore is a pretty good writer, as long as you avoid Lost Girls and Neonomicon.”

“Oh, I definitely don’t want to enter into any kind of tournament,” Bendy said, squinting at the strange deck of cards he’d been handed. They certainly weren’t like any he’d ever seen before. They had illustrations and odd titles and symbols and instructions. “Lilith, Lady of Lament,” he read aloud slowly. “If this card is normal summoned, its original A-T-K becomes one thousand. Quick effect. You can tribute one dark monster; reveal three normal traps from your- what does any of this mean? These sound like ritual instructions. What is a manga-turned-anime? Does being into comic books just mean you learn a billion different made-up words and acronyms?”

He realized he was probably asking more questions than he could take in the answers to at once. Whatever this game was, it was terribly complicated. And there were more of them? He tore his eyes away from Lilith’s sultry gaze and instead looked at Watchmen. The cover was pretty striking. “Standalone? Sounds good to me. I’m not looking forward to figuring out which of these billion books I gotta read to understand which others.” He began flipping through it. The art was flatter in its coloring than what he was accustomed to, but it employed a lot of heavy inks, which appealed to him. “Yeah, I’ll read this. Issues of the 80′s, huh? What year is it now, anyway, ninety?”

Spite handed him yet another book. At least he was having a good time explaining things, though Bendy was considerably more confused five minutes into Spite’s lesson than he was walking into the store. This one was written by the same author as Watchmen. The art inside had even heavier inks. “Neonomicon? Do you mean Necronomicon? Because I think I’ve read that one.”

[monsterwaltz]

reincarny-catcher:

While hole-in-the-wall comic shops usually had poor organization, they were usually cluttered, which would allow Spite to hide from curious eyes more easily. Ideally he would have loved to go to a warehouse-sized shop like the examples he mentioned, but he knew those stores were not only few and far between but also would leave him in the open more often. The main surprise was that Bendy did know what all was in there. 

“Comic shops attract a bunch of nerds,” Spite explained with no hint of irony in his voice. “A lot of people who like comics like RPGs, TCGs, video games, those sorts of things. Some people even LARP. Losers.”  Again, no irony from Spite as he said these acronyms like they were common knowledge.

Spite hesitated some as he tried to formulate his answer. He didn’t see the need to lie about it, but he didn’t want to give his backstory, mainly because he didn’t care to think of his backstory himself. Once he figured out what details to omit, he gave his reply.

“You know how most kids learn to read from picture books before moving on to more complex readings? Comic books were one of my stepping stones in that process.” He didn’t say how his human caretaker gave him his first picture books, or how she had some old Archie comics she read with him, or how he would have to hunt for new reading material online to kill time while waiting for her to come home. The shorter the explanation, the fewer chances to Bendy to poke holes in it. “How did you even find comic books, anyway? Wulf doesn’t seem the type to have any. Or at least, not any you’d like. He seems like a tijuana bible guy, but those are hard to find.” If Bendy asked what that one meant, Spite probably wouldn’t tell him. He could only crap on Wulf’s image so much in one day if this were to be a pleasant hangout.  

Once they got within a block of the store, Spite ran ahead, eager to get in. In an attempt to be polite, he opened the door once Bendy got closer.

“Entrez vous,” Spite said with an exaggerated accent. 

Spite didn’t seem too bothered by the fact it would be a small store, which was nice. He rattled off a bunch of acronyms Bendy had never heard in his life before, though. “Uh, how about you explain what those are to me if we see them inside? Jeez, there’s a lot of stuff related to these I didn’t know about. I thought it was just books, I didn’t realize there was a culture around ‘em.”

Bendy got the sense Spite was withholding something, but he certainly wasn’t going to pry when his goal for the night was to keep Spite happy. He also didn’t appreciate Spite’s....rather sleazy characterization of his favorite human, but reminded himself that Spite didn’t even know Wulf, he was just talking. Don’t get annoyed, he thought. That’s just how Spite is. Keep him happy.

“So, you taught yourself to read with comic books?” he asked. “Neat! I, uh, picked some up on Free Comic Book Day last month. And I liked them. That’s the whole story, pretty much.” He went inside first, at Spite’s request. “Merci beaucoup!”

The store was pretty shabby - peeling paint, worn out carpeting - but the books themselves all appeared to be in good condition. The walkways were awfully narrow, since so many shelves were crammed into the small space, but there mercifully was no one else browsing. There was a wall of collectibles and toys, all behind the counter. In front of them, a single cashier was slumped over on the counter, asleep or very nearly there. Some lively voices, however, could be heard coming from upstairs.

“Jeez, there’s so much stuff in here,” Bendy said, scanning the nearest shelf. “How the hell are you supposed to figure out what to pick up?”

[monsterwaltz]

reincarny-catcher:

“Oh, well, yeah,” Spite was so used to sneaking around places that he forgot a night out would entail being, y’know, out. He tried to cover up for his flub. “Well, we are going into buildings, yes, but we have to walk outside to get to them. It’s best if we minimize the chances of being stopped on the street by strangers who think we look funny.” Bendy looked fine, Spite was honestly more worried about his appearance. He’d more than likely be fine, however. Someone might mistake him for Bendy’s badly dressed child, which would be embarrassing, but he could handle that. “As for Wulf changing himself for you, I still say it’s possible. He must’ve seen something in you to let you randomly crash at his place, after all.”

Spite perked up as soon as Bendy mentioned a comic book store. Spite didn’t get to read comics often, but he liked what he could get his hands on, though it was mostly outdated stuff he stole from middle-aged collectors or the one or two things he could swipe at a store before he had to leave to follow a reincarny.

“You have a comic book store?” Spite asked. “How good is it? Does it carry lots of back issues, or is it mostly newer stuff? Do they have graphic novel collections? Manga? Collectibles?” Logically Spite knew Bendy didn’t know what all was in that store, but in his excitement he couldn’t handle himself. “Is this place Mile High Comics big? No, wait, that place is too big for a city like this. Hastings big? Austin Books and Comics big? Some hole-in-the-wall?” At some point in his line of questioning, Spite realized his cool and evil image was completely gone, as much as he could still have it wearing his get-up. As if he could recover from such a show, he stopped and straightened himself up.

“Ahem, I mean… Yes, let’s do that place first.” His attempt at recovery was immediately ruined once he darted towards the door. “Hurry up, let’s go! Those places don’t have good late hours!”

Satisfied with Spite’s explanation, Bendy opted not to pursue that line of questioning any further. He was still suspicious of the likelihood that Wulf saw something in him, or anything similar, but he’d put it down as a possibility and leave it at that.

Bendy was grinning broadly by the time Spite finished his tangent. His hobbies only consisted of drinking and torturing, huh? Likely story. He had never seen Spite light up like that before. Granted, this was only the second time they’d seen each other, but he knew by now that Spite being genuinely excited about something was a rare and valuable opportunity. Now his goal for the night was to keep Spite happy for as long as he could manage. Spite seemed so miserable all the time, and maybe Bendy could actually help him not be miserable, if only for a little while.

“It’s kind of a hole in the wall,” Bendy said, “But there’s a lot of stuff crammed in there. New releases are on display and old stuff’s in boxes you can sift through. There’s a second floor where they....play with cards, I think? Dunno what that has to do with comic books.” Certainly not wanting to bandy about in the apartment any longer out of fear it would kill Spite’s good mood, he followed him outside and continued speaking as they walked. “I don’t know what any of those other places you mentioned are, but this city’s pretty big. I haven’t left this area much, though, since there’s more people further in.”

By the time they got outside, the sun had set all the way. Streetlights were a little sparse, but it was navigable as long as you stuck to the main roads and not the alleyways they’d been taking before. “Comic shop isn’t far away,” Bendy said, “It’s right up the road in this direction. Where’d you get so into comics, anyway? I just started reading ‘em because they had pictures.”

[monsterwaltz]

reincarny-catcher:

“Aw, you’re no fun,” Spite replied as he made his way to the cabinet. He rifled through the drawers until he found some safety pins. He could have sworn he saw a face-down picture frame as he searched, but he kept that to himself. As he waited for Bendy to get ready, he climbed onto the bed and started rolling up his sleeves to figure out where the safety pins should go. By the time he was done, Bendy had stepped out of the closet.  

“I don’t think it makes you look stuffy,” Spite answered. “It might be a little bit too business formal for walking around late at night, but it’d help you blend into the darkness. Draw less attention to yourself.” Spite didn’t want to admit it, but he was jealous that Bendy was able to fit into the clothes no problem. Spite, meanwhile, knew he looked like a little kid playing dress-up in their dad’s clothes. Even with the alterations he made, which were a bit sloppy, he still looked like a child trying to be a grown-up. It’s not like Spite cared about clothes given his constant nudity, but it’d still be nice if he could fit into things other than baby onesies.

“A job is good. And I’d say you are helping. Sometimes people don’t work on self-improvement unless it’s for someone else, as weird as that is.” Spite scooted himself off the bed, landing on the discarded suit jacket he pulled down. Spite looked up at Bendy, then looked down at himself. These were by no means great disguises. Bendy still had an unnaturally pure white face while Spite had some purple showing from his feet and legs poking under the shirt, but at least they weren’t parading around naked and with their more obvious demon features showing. Plus, it was nighttime, so people were less likely to notice their inhuman features in the dark. Just in case, however, Spite used his powers to open a drawer and get some socks to cover his feet. What would’ve been average above-ankle socks on a human were more like half-shin height for Spite, but it covered more of him, so he wasn’t going to complain. He used some safety pins to make the socks tighter. Now he was ready.

“I think this is as good as we’re gonna get. So, what kind of places do you want to go to first?”

Bendy looked in the mirror for a moment, and opted to keep the jacket for now. He could always take it off later. He was aware that he kind of looked like a dork, but there wasn’t much he could do about that short of buying clothes that fit. Maybe people would think he was cute.

“Blending into the darkness,” he repeated. “You know, I was thinking we would actually be....going into buildings, and stuff. We aren’t gonna be sneaking around the whole time, are we? I feel like that’ll put a damper on the whole....night on the town thing.”

It had not occurred to Bendy that Wulf might have been trying harder because of him. The idea made him feel important, but it also didn’t seem terribly likely. Wulf liked him, but Bendy was still a random demon he’d picked up off the streets a few weeks ago. It wasn’t like he was a relative or a significant other. “You really think he’s improving himself ‘cause of me?” Bendy asked, disbelief evident in his voice.

He watched Spite put on the socks. Was he....going to walk around wearing socks without shoes? What if he stepped in a puddle? Bendy shuddered. Those socks would undoubtedly be ruined by the end of the night, but he wasn’t willing to argue with Spite over a pair of socks. He’d buy Wulf some new ones later to make up for it.

Bendy thought about what there was to do. “Uh....I’m not actually sure where the best place to go would be. I’ve never gone out with anyone before. Off the top of my head, nearby we’ve got a couple bars, one of those expensive coffee shops, a music and video store, a comic book store, a bunch of clothing shops? Uh....” For as much as he wandered around and looked at everything, it was terribly difficult to think of what was around when he was put on the spot like that. “A drug store and a candy shop? That’s all I can think of right now.”

[monsterwaltz]

reincarny-catcher:

Spite looked at the clothes up and down. They really did all look the same. Spite made a show of the lack of selection.

“Oh, man, so many choices, however could I pick? I mean, this one is black, but this one is black. Man…” After realizing neither of the two of them were amused by this bit, Spite pulled down a suit at random, not caring how his rough grip and tug to the floor would wrinkle the clothes. He also used his powers to levitate a hat down. He eyed the trench coats, but he knew that those couldn’t be as easily rolled up and pinned to fit without looking awkward. Plus, the hat was most likely large enough to obscure his face in shadow, so the trench coat might have been overkill. He undid the buttons of the dress shirt and put it on, feeling ridiculous and swallowed up by the large garment. He didn’t even have to look in a mirror to tell.

“…Yeah, I think I need to cut this up. Maybe make a dress out of it. There’s no way this will work as a shirt for me.” Instead of looking for scissors, Spite grabbed one of the ties that fell to the floor from his haphazard grab at the clothes earlier and fashioned it into a belt, making the shirt fit closer to his body as best as he could. He put the hat on his head and spun around like a model.

“Tell me I’m pretty~” he joked. After he stopped spinning, he got out of the way so Bendy could chose his own ensemble, his ridiculously long sleeves dragging behind him, along with the back of the shirt. As he waited for Bendy to get dressed, he brought up Wulf’s sad life again.

“Heh, he’s the true starving artist romantic, isn’t he? Songs upon songs of lovers lost and lonely nights. How pathetic.” Remembering that people are usually supposed to be nice to their friends, he amended his statement. “Moving on is hard, but he’ll feel a lot better if he learns to get out there rather than drown in his own apartment. Self-pity only works for so long, you know? You must be helping out a lot; I can’t imagine the mess this apartment was in before you came along.” 

Bendy watched Spite struggle with the clothes with amusement. He covered his mouth to suppress a laugh. Spite was tiny, of course, but it never quite occurred to you exactly how tiny he was until you saw him to scale with a human-sized object - in this case, a shirt. It was so long in comparison to him that he could trip over. Spite would kill him if Bendy told him that he was cute like a tiny baby, though.

“You look gorgeous,” he said instead, pushing past Spite into the closet. He peeked out of the door and added, “Also, please don’t do anything to that shirt while I’m in here, we have safety pins in the cabinet.”

Bendy, unlike Spite, was actually the size of a human person, albeit a short one. Fortunately for him, Wulf wasn’t very tall, so his clothes were wearable, if a bit big. The shoes are a little too loose, but he manages to make them work by stuffing them full of insertable insoles and calling it a day. 

Bendy emerges from the closet in a full suit. He looks like a middle schooler going to his first prom in the smallest thing he could find at the thrift shop. “Think I should lose the jacket?” he asks. “Feel like it makes me look stuffy. I figure as long as my horns and tail are hidden, I should be fine. Not much I can do about my face.”

It sounded an awful lot like Spite added the second bit in an attempt to make up for how mean it was to call Wulf pathetic, but Bendy let it slide. At least Spite was trying. “I mean, he’s out a lot of the day. I know he used to mope around his apartment a lot more than he does now. I think he’s looking for a new job? This place is looking a little better than it was when I got here, that’s for sure, but I don’t know if I’d say I’m helping.”

[monsterwaltz]

reincarny-catcher:

“Yeah, could definitely tell from the piano, sheet music, and booze,” Spite said with some amusement in his voice. “Honestly, this apartment is the stereotypical starving artist’s apartment. All it’s missing is more papers crumpled up and maybe a picture of some dame long gone from his life, which I’d imagine he’s keeping in a drawer in his bedroom.” Spite was joking, but for all he knew it could be true. “At least you’re able to keep him from drinking too much. Probably hard to tickle the ivories if you’re seeing double of the keys. I’d like to hear his skills sometime, if he’s as good as you claim.”

Spite was thinking of cutting the fabric, truth be told, but Bendy seemed to read his mind. “Aww, no cutting things? You’re no fun,” Spite pouted. “But fine, I suppose we could roll and pin the sleeves or pants or whatever I’m going to wear. I can’t guarantee I won’t get stains on the outfit, though, so something permanent might happen.” While he’d rather not get into a mess where that sort of thing could happen, he did secretly hope to commit a little bit of evil by ruining Wulf’s clothes somehow. He couldn’t help himself. 

Spite opened the bedroom door and headed straight for the closet, once again taking care to step on whatever bare patches of floor were visible. Spite ignored the mess as best as he could in order to focus on his task, though it was hard for him to resist digging through the scattered trash to see if there was anything of value or potentially useful. 

“What all does Wulf wear, anyway?” he asked Bendy as he opened the closet. “Any hats or anything we could cover our horns with? Scarves or high-collared trenchcoats to hide our faces? We might have to look like Claude Rains’s Invisible Man to pass in society.”

Spite’s reading of Wulf stung Bendy a little bit for some reason. Maybe because Wulf was so genuinely miserable and really struggled with alcoholism and really did have a bunch of exes and Spite was speaking as if this all was something to be expected. But Bendy knew, logically, that Spite didn’t mean anything by it. Maybe he was just a little overly defensive of the person who’d taken him in. “Putting it lightly, he has had a lot of relationships go over badly,” he said. “He writes about it a lot. Well. He mostly writes about it, actually.”

Bendy was glad he’d caught onto Spite’s intentions in time. He’d feel awful if he let Spite in here and he proceeded to destroy all of Wulf’s stuff. “Just try and be careful, would you?” he whined. “I really don’t want any of his things getting ruined. Clothes are expensive and I’m staying here for free.”

The closet was lined with a solid dozen formal suits of decent quality, like a cartoon businessman’s wardrobe. In the back behind them were a few other types of items - dress shirts, polished shoes - but not much of a particularly casual variety. Wulf did, in fact, own a few trenchcoats - and many hats, all arranged in a row on the top shelf. This was very likely the neatest location in the entire apartment.

“Lucky for us he’s a snappy dresser, huh?”

[monsterwaltz]

reincarny-catcher:

Spite stepped in and scoped out his surroundings. While Spite himself wasn’t the neatest person in the world, this place was a downright pig sty. He made no hesitation in saying so to Bendy.

“You two live like this? I’ve seen trailer homes hit by tornadoes look cleaner.” Spite used his powers to levitate one of the empty bottles to him. Rum. Wulf had some decent taste. “Since you just admitted to not drinking, does this mean your human has been downing all these? From one alcoholic about another, he’s got a problem.” Spite put the bottle down near his feet and picked up a stack of papers close by. Spite couldn’t see too well in the dim moonlight, but he could make out what looked like several lines and dots. Must have been sheet music for the piano awkwardly shoehorned into the corner. Among the sheet music were some drawings. Some pretty good drawings, from what he could see. Spite shuffled through them, getting more impressed the more he looked.

“You did all these?” he asked. “Don’t throw these on the floor, you need to put them somewhere nice and flat. Heck, put them on the fridge if you have to. Why trash your newly found hobby like that?” Despite saying this, Spite put the papers down where he found them. He took some hesitant steps forward, occasionally side-stepping in order to avoid bigger obstacles. “This is like a reverse ‘the floor is made of lava’ game,” he muttered to himself until he got close to what he suspected was the bedroom door. 

“The clothes are in here, right? Mind you, I’m not exactly a tall demon like you are,” he said, even though Bendy wasn’t really considered tall. “That being said, I might need to make some adjustments. Once we get ready, we can start the fun.”

Bendy’s face felt hot. He had thought the apartment they shared was pretty nice. He greatly preferred its fullness to how bare all the places he’d lived before were. It hadn’t occurred to him that people would think of all the stuff as making the place dirty, he just thought it made it lived in. 

Bendy looked at the bottle of rum on the floor. Spite was pretty blunt about that, too. “Yeah, he um....he does have a problem,” he mumbled barely above a whisper. He spoke up some more. “He’s been drinking less with me around, though, really! He’s just....sad, y’know?” Bendy picked up a page of lyrics off of the ground and dusted it off. It was labeled La Bête et la Belle. He set it down on the coffee table. “He’s a musician. But you could probably tell that from the piano. He’s really good, you should hear him sometime.”

He smiled at the compliments. “I’m glad you like ‘em! We mostly walk in the cleared out space, so they’re fine on the floor. I, ah, kinda picked up the habit from him. But you’re right, I should keep them in a folder or somethin’. He should take better care of his things too. Paper ages pretty quickly.”

Spite had good intuition. Bendy stored that in the back of his mind for use as a compliment later. “Yeah, that’s his room. There’s a walk-in closet on the right.” Bendy had never been called tall by someone before. He didn’t anticipate it would happen again anytime soon. He hastily followed Spite to the doorway. He didn’t want to let him in Wulf’s room unattended. “What do you....mean by adjustments? You ain’t gonna do anything permanent to his clothes, are you? We can just roll up the hem and pin it in place, don’t go cutting anything.”

[monsterwaltz]

[By the way, I do see the asks I have! I’ll get around to answering them soon enough, I swear.]

[monsterwaltz]

reincarny-catcher:

Spite knew that some people considered his job as almost a good thing. After all, killing sinners means there’s less evil in the world, which benefits humanity. It’s like if Batman had the guts to actually kill Joker. However, Spite hated thinking of his job in those terms. He needed both his job and himself to be evil. That’s what he was trained to be. That’s what all demons were trained to be. The idea that there was goodness in him, in any demon, was troubling and would only lead to getting the goodness beat out of them. The question of if killing evil-doers makes one good or bad was and still is a heavily debated one, and Spite didn’t feel like having a philosophical discussion, so he let the comment slide.

As Spite was getting dragged around by Bendy, he answered the question, though he knew Bendy would like the answers even less. Unlike the whole killing bad guys job, Spite’s hobbies in Hell were definitely in the black on a black-to-white scale of morality.

“Torture, drink, drink while torturing, torture while drinking, those are the most common activities for demons. I like to mix it up sometimes with reading and video games, but everyone has their own thing. Mind you, most of those things still involve torture of some sort. For example, I have a roommate that likes gardening, but he feeds a lot of the carnivorous plants various human body parts.” Spite shrugged dismissively, showing how little he cared about the souls whose limbs were hacked off. “I’d imagine it was the same for your fellow demons in your Hell. What do you do in your spare time here, other than practice shapeshifting in seedy alleyways?”

Spite was quiet for awhile. Bendy guessed he didn’t want to talk about his job. He was fine with leaving well enough alone, in this case. Spite answered his question about what he did in his spare time with some....concerning activities. Perhaps he should have expected those kinds of answers. Perhaps he shouldn’t have asked at all.

“It, uh....wasn’t really like that for us,” he said, rounding the corner. They weren’t far now. “For one thing, we didn’t have much free time at all. They did like alcohol, but I, ah....” He tugs on his bow. “Can’t drink. Torture's its own specific career field within the legal department, not something just anyone can do, so it wasn’t anyone’s hobby. I don’t really know much of what people got up to in their own homes, honestly. No one certainly ever invited me anywhere.”

Bendy continued on, “As for now, I haven’t been here long, so I’ve been spending most of my time wandering around trying to get to know the area. Just people-watching and stuff. I’m pretty good at not being seen.” He remembered something. “Oh! I nearly forgot! I’ve also taken up drawing. Just for when I’m at home with nothing to do, since I can’t always be wandering around. I’ve never had a hobby before, y’know. Anyway, the apartment’s right up here.” 

At last, they stood before the backside of the apartment building. Bendy waved Spite up the fire escape staircase. “I have a key, but Wulf leaves this window unlocked, so we can climb in through here. Don’t wanna risk someone seeing you in the halls.” Bendy smiled to himself, remembering that their first meeting had occurred after he ran up a fire escape and entered an apartment through a window. He popped the window open and climbed through, then waited for Spite.

The lights were off in the apartment, but you could still see the layout of the room pretty clearly thanks to the light filtering in through the windows. This was a living room - at least, underneath all the clutter, it was. Nearly the entire floor and every available surface - namely, a coffee table and an end table - was covered with papers and empty liquor bottles and clothing and boxes and odds and ends. The grungy carpet was visible only through a clumsily cleared walkway between the tattered couch and the other doorways, not unlike one you’d see in a child’s bedroom. Most conspicuously, there was a piano crammed into the corner of the room, just barely askew of the couch. The piano, too, was was covered with clutter.

Bendy grinned broadly and held his arms out. “Welcome to my apartment! Well, Wulf’s apartment. But I live here!”

[monsterwaltz]

reincarny-catcher:

Spite nodded. Even if people were okay enough with Bendy’s appearance, it still made since he wanted to be as inconspicuous as possible. Another good reason to practice shapeshifting, even if Spite personally would have used that power to scare people off and make public spaces his own.

“You don’t have to pretend to care about my job and my enjoyment of it, I know you hate it,” Spite said. “Besides, what really matters is that they died in the end.” Spite was aware of Bendy’s distaste for evil ever since their first meeting. If he cared about Bendy’s feelings he would stop acting so evil around him, especially since the two had already established a bond over emotional vulnerability and honesty. Knowing that fact didn’t mean Spite would change his behavior, though. It was too ingrained in him at this point. 

Spite considered the idea of borrowing Wulf’s clothes briefly, but realized that it was unlikely a grown man would have clothes that matched his 2 foot 3 inch frame. As much as Spite hated admitting it, the clothes that would fit him best would be toddler clothes, but no way would he want to wear those. Hard to be evil when you’re wearing a hand-me-down Go, Diego, Go shirt. Whatever clothes Wulf had would swallow Spite, but perhaps he could cut some excess length off of a shirt and make an ugly dress. Not his ideal style, but better than nothing.

“Works for me,” Spite said, not revealing his ideas to alter Wulf’s clothes so much that only he could use them. “Lead the way. And hey, we might run into him while we run about town. Wouldn’t that be fun surprise?” 

Bendy was hoping he’d be convincing, but Spite was perceptive, unfortunately for him. Given their first meeting, though, he probably should have known it was obvious that he wasn’t exactly a fan of Spite’s job. “It’s not that I don’t care,” he corrected, “I just....” He was about to say he was uncomfortable with murder, but that wasn’t wholly true. He thought murder was sickeningly awful, but it was also something he was oddly used to. “I don’t love murder?” That sounded stupid when he said it out loud, but it was the best way he could explain it. “I’ve got mixed feelings on what you do, actually, because you are targeting really terrible people and all. It falls into a....a weird grey area I’m not sure about, if y’know what I mean.”

He was grateful for the chance to change the topic. “Anyway, the apartment’s only a few blocks from here, it ain’t that much of a walk.” He waved for Spite to follow and led him to the edge of the alley. He peered up and down the street. It was empty. “We only have to cross a road here, the rest of the way we can sneak around through some more alleyways.” 

Bendy scurried across, dragging Spite behind him. The rest of the way was a convoluted, snaking path through a network of back alleys. There wasn’t much to see, just some run down buildings, broken windows, and garbage on the ground. He took the opportunity to try and make some small talk. “So, uh, what do you do in your spare time back in Hell?”

[monsterwaltz]

dielovedie:

“It’s not an inconvenience, I don’t mind you staying for a bit. Nobody else is really around here and I can’t see any of them doing this either.” It’s kind of getting lonely there anyway, maybe he really wouldn’t mind the company after all.

  ‘Well- it’s just a nickname, I guess, but Wulf’s a nickname, too, right?’ 

Ah. How was he going to explain this in his typical cryptic and vague fashion? He seems to contemplate this in silence for a minute.

“It used to be, but it’s not technically a nickname anymore.” That’s blunt and confusing enough, he thinks. “Whenever you want to, I can take you over and show you around and set arrangements for tonight. Again, I was just about to go there, but I’m in no real rush,” he adds, adjusting his tie compulsively. He was trying his best to sound polite. 

In all honesty, this probably wasn’t a good idea. He doesn’t know Bendy well (he… doesn’t really know anybody well anymore, though), and he barely ever lets people into his apartment anyway. 

…But nobody ever said Wulf was a man of reason and good ideas. He was far from it, actually. Bendy seemed innocent and oblivious anyway, what harm would it be? It was only for a few nights at most, after all.

Bendy really was lucky, wasn’t he? Perhaps even more than he was optimistic. Lucky to have survived this long, lucky to have gotten kicked out instead of kept in, and lucky to run right into the one person willing to take him in off the streets not two moments after he’d clawed himself out of Hell. “Weeeell, if you’re suuuure,” he said, unable to conceal the grin on his face.

The nickname thing was confusing, but he wasn’t terribly worried about that. For all he knew, maybe humans were just secretive about names. He was still just genuinely elated that things were going so well for him.

He bounced in place on his heels, tail flicking back and forth. “Sure thing! Not like I have anywhere else to be. So, what kinda place you got? Not that it matters to me, just curious. I guess I’ll find out soon, though,” he said. “I’ve never had a permanent home before, personally, since I got moved around a lot depending on my assignment.” 

He tried to settle down a little out of concern he’d annoy his new friend, though his tail was still swishing despite himself. “Uh, which way is it?”

[monsterwaltz]

reincarny-catcher:

Spite’s mouth was slightly agape. Bendy just walked around oh-so-casually? How…? Spite closed his mouth and puckered his lips as he thought of how to respond. 

“Uhh, not really, no. I don’t get the privilege of walking about in the open, save for Halloween time or maybe nerd conventions where people think I’m wearing a costume, and even then I’m supposed to remain out of sight as much as possible.” Spite wondered what all reactions Bendy got. Clearly nothing major enough to chase him out of town or make him wear a disguise. The fact that Bendy was practicing shapeshifting outdoors rather than inside the apartment with his human showed that Bendy wasn’t too much of an oddity around here. Spite once again felt a tinge of jealously towards Bendy’s freedom. To combat that feeling, Spite addressed the other two topics.

“The reincarny killed themselves before I could even think of how to stage an accident,” Spite replied. “I didn’t even get to do the fun part of my job, all I did was stalk the sinner all around town without being able to actually enjoy the town. I swear, this place has a million pawn shops with weapons. Actually, a pawn shop or a Goodwill might be a good first stop for us. We can get ourselves some disguises and look like badly dressed little people rather than two demons up to no good. Then we can do as we please. Uhh, do you have any Goodwills around here? I haven’t seen that much of the town yet. You’ll need to be my guide.”

Bendy gave Spite an odd look. Spite seemed really shocked that he walked around in the open. Hadn’t he been walking around in the open right before they first met? Besides, there really weren’t all that many people in the area to worry about. He only had issues when he tried to go into a store. “You....aren’t allowed to be seen?” he asked. “I guess that makes sense, now that I think about it. Still, sorry to hear that. I get, uh....mixed reactions. That’s part of why I’m trying to get better at shapeshifting, so I can go out without people making a fuss.” Could he read Spite’s thoughts, he might have explained that he practiced out here specifically so no one would see him, but he couldn’t.

Bendy was a little put off by the fact that Spite considered killing the fun part of his job, but he supposed he couldn’t judge someone with a career like that unless he was in their position. “Sorry about your luck,” he said, trying not to sound too flat. “And we don’t need to go to a pawn shop, silly. We can just go back to my apartment if you want clothes. Wulf’s not home, he’s, uh....” Bendy didn’t know where Wulf was, and there was a good chance he was at the bar, but he didn’t want to throw him under the bus like that. “I don’t actually know where he went, he forgot to tell me.”

[monsterwaltz]

reincarny-catcher:

“Well, it… went. I didn’t get to do the killing part myself, so while the job was a success, I don’t feel successful. Speaking of successful, are you practicing that shape-shifting thing? You’re looking nice and creepy.” Bendy was wanting to look like actual other beings, but Spite liked the creepy looks of scribbles come to life. While it wasn’t effective for being sneaky, sometimes you can’t beat the cool factor. However, Spite quickly remembered Bendy didn’t want creepy, Bendy wanted to be a good person. Spite corrected himself aloud.

“Right, creepy isn’t a desired look for you, is it? Not unless you can use it for good, and there’s a limited market for that. Haunted houses for charity aren’t really in season right now.” Spite took a moment to consider options, less because he wanted to help Bendy find a use and more because he liked the challenge of finding a market for helpful creepiness. After coming up with nothing but more haunted houses, Spite changed the topic.

“Like I said, since I’m out of reincarnies, I’m here to kill some time and wander around your town. Now that you’re here, this seems like a good opportunity to make good on my word and school you in Earth culture. What do you say, Bendy? Care to show a guy a good time?”

Spite was being awfully vague about what happened at his job. “Did....someone else kill your target?” Bendy asked quizzically. He reflected briefly on how quickly he’d become more or less okay with what Spite did for a living. Maybe he was just too used to Hell. Or maybe he was just a little too okay with bad things happening to bad people.

Goddammit, Spite had been there long enough. Bendy pressed his forehead against the wall of the brick building next to them. “I can’t believe you saw that,” he groaned. “Yeah, I know I’m good at looking creepy. That’s what I’ve been trying to fix forever. But it just ain’t happenin’,” he sighed. “I mean, I guess creepy’s got its uses, but I don’t really want to scare anyone. And walkin’ around as a demon all the time - even an adorable one, such as myself - has got its issues. I’m sure you know that as well as I do.”

That was right, Spite had promised to teach him about the surface. “I thought you’d never ask,” he said, smiling. He’d been genuinely excited about this for awhile. “But, uh, what did you have in mind?”

[reincarny-catcher]

((Closed Starter for @monsterwaltz))

Days passed by before Spite was sent up to catch a reincarny again. This time the job was a lot harder than his usual sit-and-wait method. He had to follow the reincarny all around town, in and out of buildings, in and out of vehicles, it was exhausting. And Spite didn’t even get the satisfaction of killing the reincarny himself. No, right after sinning, the reincarny killed themselves. All that stalking for no satisfaction. Spite didn’t want to waste his trip up to the human realm by leaving without committing evil, so he decided to walk around town, sneaking through alleyways so he couldn’t be seen by human eyes. While he couldn’t easily walk into any building, he figured he could at least break into some businesses, steal some books, games, booze, whatever appealed to him at that moment. As he slunk around in the shadows between buildings, Spite saw another shadow move. What was that? The question answered itself quickly when the shadow turned around, revealing a white face and bow tie.

“Bendy? Is that you?” Spite risked calling out, hiding behind a trashcan just in case it wasn’t his inky friend he spotted. “I’m here to kill time and reincarnies, and I’m all out of reincarnies.” 

[monsterwaltz]

Bendy liked dark alleyways. He liked dark places in general, but alleyways held a special place in his heart - he had landed in one when he first came to the surface, after all. They were a nice place to practice shapeshifting, too. He was a liquid shadow, and inside an area with so many dark places, he could blend in anywhere. If someone came by, they’d never see him.

Spite, as it transpired, was an exception.

He heard a rattling by a nearby garbage can, gasped, and turned around. “Bendy, is that you?” a familiar voice asked. “I’m here to kill time and reincarnies, and I’m all out of reincarnies.”

“Spite, don’t scare me like that!” he huffed, hands balled up into pouty little fists. “How long have you been hiding there?” Bendy was a very poor shapeshifter when it came to actually looking like anything else, much to his own shame, and he likened someone catching him practicing to being caught playing dress-up. His forms looked like childrens’ scribblings come to life.

Still, he was happy to see Spite. He had been wondering when the little gremlin would pop up again. His expression softened. “Here for work, huh? Sounds like you finished your job already. How’d it go?”

[monsterwaltz]

reincarny-catcher:

Spite looked at the piece of drywall and committed the number to memory. He could have just put it in whatever cell phone he stole recently, but those things didn’t last too long when the people who paid for them were dead. It was easier to memorize than to remake contact lists every single time. And honestly, he didn’t have that many people to contact. Spite used his fire powers to store the unconventional writing pad in his hammerspace, just in case. 

“See you around then, Bendy,” Spite returned the wave and gave a smirk back. Green flames consumed his body, starting at the eyes, feet, and hands and soon spreading all over. Spite was tempted to jokingly scream about being in pain, but since he really didn’t know when or if he’d see Bendy again, he didn’t want that to be his last impression of him. Instead, he gave a small salute before disappearing completely.

Back in Hell, Spite was able to follow the usual procedure: check to see the soul made it down there, check if Luke had any more assignments for the day, then go home or to the bar. He opted for home this time, not wanting to erase the memories of that day with alcohol. Although it wasn’t good for anyone in Hell, Spite hoped a reincarny would escape soon so he’d have the chance to run into Bendy again. Despite the two only spending an hour or so together, Spite really felt a connection with him. He hoped to deepen it.