Bendy the Dancing Demon (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
figmentpigment) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
middaeg2019-07-17 09:02 pm
figmentpigment) wrote in middaeg2019-07-17 09:02 pm
Entry tags:
No Survival Kit (closed)
Who: Bendy and Monika
When: July 14-15
Where: various locations
What: a dangerous encounter, turned to a grim understanding of one another
Warnings: violence, potential suicidal ideation
It's easy to lose track of time when it's never meant anything before. How long is a month? Is it longer than an hour? When does a night become a morning? It's all been rather pointless technicalities, until recently. It takes some time to recognize that things... well, that they take time, now.
The point is, Bendy forgot how soon the Full Moons would come.
Out and patting down a snowman (he'd lined the street with them, starting with the classic design but as the week wore on his sculptures turned to full frozen scenes of snowpeople; this one leaned over to take a bite out of the side of another snow-victim, whose mouth had been scooped out in a yell of frozen terror), Bendy dismissed the crawling sensation on his skin as shivers of cold. The sky began to dim overhead as the gnawing vibe of wrongness grew, and Bendy thought maybe he was getting tired. Though, if he was so cold that his skin felt like it was practically writhing, why was he sweating so badly--
Bendy leaned heavily against the frozen violence he'd sculpted, his head beginning to throb. In the deepening dusk, he could see dark stains spreading over the snow where he touched. Oh. Oh that was bad. Oh he made a bad mistake. His back pops, creaks, and he digs his fingers into the snow, claws cutting deeper into the ice than they should.
It hadn't been like this before, not in the dream, not even the last time the moons were out, he hadn't felt it happen like this before. It didn't hurt, precisely, not even the spines distending down his back with sickening cracks of bone or the stretching of his ribs against oozing skin--the discomfort was there, certainly, but muted and distant. It all felt distant, now: the cold, the fear, the shame of its mistake. All it felt was the moonlight on its ink-slicked fur.
When: July 14-15
Where: various locations
What: a dangerous encounter, turned to a grim understanding of one another
Warnings: violence, potential suicidal ideation
It's easy to lose track of time when it's never meant anything before. How long is a month? Is it longer than an hour? When does a night become a morning? It's all been rather pointless technicalities, until recently. It takes some time to recognize that things... well, that they take time, now.
The point is, Bendy forgot how soon the Full Moons would come.
Out and patting down a snowman (he'd lined the street with them, starting with the classic design but as the week wore on his sculptures turned to full frozen scenes of snowpeople; this one leaned over to take a bite out of the side of another snow-victim, whose mouth had been scooped out in a yell of frozen terror), Bendy dismissed the crawling sensation on his skin as shivers of cold. The sky began to dim overhead as the gnawing vibe of wrongness grew, and Bendy thought maybe he was getting tired. Though, if he was so cold that his skin felt like it was practically writhing, why was he sweating so badly--
Bendy leaned heavily against the frozen violence he'd sculpted, his head beginning to throb. In the deepening dusk, he could see dark stains spreading over the snow where he touched. Oh. Oh that was bad. Oh he made a bad mistake. His back pops, creaks, and he digs his fingers into the snow, claws cutting deeper into the ice than they should.
It hadn't been like this before, not in the dream, not even the last time the moons were out, he hadn't felt it happen like this before. It didn't hurt, precisely, not even the spines distending down his back with sickening cracks of bone or the stretching of his ribs against oozing skin--the discomfort was there, certainly, but muted and distant. It all felt distant, now: the cold, the fear, the shame of its mistake. All it felt was the moonlight on its ink-slicked fur.
no subject
She'd made some... friends during her time. And while that was all well and good, there was still a fundamental need that Monika had yet to take care of.
Well, fundamental as a witch.
She was left feeling restless. Agitated, even!
It was okay, there was still plenty time. Or so Monika forced herself to believe.
Her thoughts had been so focused that she didn't even notice the snowmen until coming face-to-face with them. Someone clearly had a lot of time on their hands! Yet despite the night sky above the city, the black blotches failed to be hidden. It caught her attention. Was it... ink, or something else? She reached over to touch the substance, perhaps unwisely, with her bare hands. Monika only stopped after she'd heard the sound of someone approaching.
"Um, hello?"
no subject
The past months had been a somewhat confusing (and largely relieving) string of figuring out which abilities the demon no longer had at its beck and call now that it was divorced from its reign in the reels. Lesser creatures no longer dissolved in its presence, nor melted at its touch. Upon discovery of these losses of power, it had been a great weight off of its shoulders. It couldn't kill people on accident.
Right now, it didn't particularly care about accidents. It did not mind needing to put the extra effort in. Indeed, all it was concerned with was the presence of something in its way at all.
Should Monika turn, she'd see the lanky silhouette of the demon under the moonlight. Though it had no eyes to speak of, it knew she was looking. And it was coming in faster.
no subject
Unpleasant.
Not in front of her, clearly. So that meant that the only other direction was...
"Oh."
Was her one and only reaction. Startled? Slightly.
Afraid? Not yet.
Whatever it was, it didn't look friendly.
Yet Monika remained in place, curious and intrigued.
no subject
Still, somewhere beneath the demon's aimless anger and rage, the blank, unaffected register of the being before it pinged something familiar.
Though, not so familiar as to make it slow down its approach, barreling through the snow with splatters of darkness left in its wake. Its rattling breath reached an almost gargling, snarling whine as it ran towards Monika, swiping at her with its one clawed hand.
CW: mentions of suicide
Would it have, though?
She couldn't help but wonder, examining the tears in her clothing.
A clean cut. Plenty of torn threads, with a few pieces laying on the snow beneath her.
She couldn't help but wonder, what would've happened if the cut had gone through her skin?
Gone through her flesh and bones?
Would she have bled?
Would she have died?
Monika stops examining her torn clothing and looks back the creature. There's nothing. No real sensation of concern or fear. Instead? Curiosity, of all things.
She thought she had killed herself once before, only to end up here.
Would it be any different if someone else killed her?
The girl stands her ground, and actually takes a step forward.
"Sorry, I didn't mean to dodge like that! I'll try to stay still next time."
no subject
Sometimes, he was just too tired to keep fighting. Sometimes, he'd be caught off guard, or make a mistake, and as the demon closed in, he'd look up to greet its killing touch with no more than an expression of pure weariness. Sometimes, he wouldn't bother to run, or resist, but would only wait for the strangling grasp of death--and then they'd go at it again. Maybe he'd feel like following the script tomorrow.
--The demon barrels into her, knocking her back into the snowmen in a crash of ice and water, the flurry of white mixing with its spray of black as it holds her down.
The demon snarls, a noise like the sloshing of swamp water and mud, its grip around her neck as it presses her into the slush on the ground.
no subject
It hurts.
It hurts.
Monika's eyes close shut, her face turning into a grimace as the pressure continues to grow and grow.
And yet, she doesn't her resist. Her arms remain at her side, limp and lifeless, with her legs following suit. There's no real sense of urgency, no haste in trying to remove this... thing from her. If this kept up, surely there would be some real damage done to her, or worse, even!
There's an attempt at a cough, and shortly after, she opens one eye, the other closed kept shut as she tries to look at the creature.
It hurts.
So why is there a smile on her face?
no subject
This is supposed to feel different.
Its shoulders hunch, fur bristling at the sudden and unwelcome notion. It's not meant for thinking. It's not meant for anything but this. To destroy, to kill, to instill horror and panic.
But--but. She's not horrified, or panicked. She's smiling. She's doing it wrong. She's breaking the rules, she's cheating. It did everything it's meant to, everything its always done, instilled with the routine until it became instinct, the impulse to destroy written into its oozing flesh. Yet she's smiling. She's not following the script.
There's not a script here.
Its grip on her neck loosens. Its arms shake, ink running in heavy rivulets as confusion and conflict war inside it. Thoughts bubble in the sludge where its mind should be, too big and too fast for it to understand, it's not meant to question, it's not meant to think, so why is it--shouldn't it--isn't she--how could it--wouldn't he--?
Suddenly, roughly, it wrests her from the snow, pulling her up by the neck, and throws her, hard, against the wall. Her fault. It's her fault, she's doing it wrong, it did everything right and she's the one, it didn't do anything wrong it was her it didn't do anything wrong
The demon clutches at its head, pitched snarls vibrating against its teeth as it staggers backwards. It screams at her, less a voice and more a discordant wail of a dozen untuned instruments, and it runs. She broke it, she broke it. It won't be punished because of her.
no subject
This sensation.
It felt different.
Real?
Hard to say.
All she knew was that it hurt, and she can barely move. Monika looked on, barely conscious as the creature flees the scene.
Her yell had no doubt alerted the local populace, and hopefully they'll help her get some much needed treatment.
Ah, they would surely ask questions, wouldn't they?
That was fine, she can play dumb. Even with her face half-buried against the snow, Monika can't help but smiley faintly as she finally slips out of consciousness.
no subject
Memories of time spent as the Demon are never entirely clear. They probably ought to be, seeing as he had spent more time in that body than this one, but Bendy is hardly eager to wallow in the aftermath of what the Demon gets up to if he has a choice.
Last night, however, was hard to shake out of his mind. No matter what he did, the image resurfaced; the girl's smile, pained and distant and genuine, whilst the Demon's mismatched hands dug into her throat. Bendy feels cold every time he thinks about it, something heavy and sickly roiling where his stomach should be. That sort of look, that sort of dull blithe acceptance... it doesn't appear on just anyone's face as the Demon bears down on them.
He doesn't know where she lives, or much about her at all. He knows she likes the sky. He... doubts she's up for a lot of rooftop climbing, after last night. Still, he starts his search, his shoes crunching through the snow as he looks for a sign of where his former prey had retreated to.
no subject
She just didn't know! It was all such a blur that it was tough to remember.
At least, that was what she'd told them.
Actually, they also wanted to keep her in bed for a while longer but Monika had insisted that she was fine. She was so healthy that she was already outdoors, enjoying the shade and sitting underneath a tree. It was cold, so she wouldn't be staying there for very long. Actually, she returned to the area where she'd been attacked the night before.
People always returned to the scene of the crime, didn't they?
In Monika's case, she just wanted to wait a little bit longer...
no subject
The little demon scurries up to her, but only gets a few feet away before his anxiety finally catches up and overtakes his excitement. She might not actually want to see him right now. He's not really sure if she'd recognize him, but it seems wrong for him to approach her again now that he knows she's all right. Still, you can't run up to someone and then suddenly turn around and pretend you didn't see them.
He stops short of her, his smile still firmly in place, and gives a cheerful wave. Hello friend! What a crazy random happenstance, running into you here!
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Pretending that there was nothing wrong.
Why, you wouldn't even know that Monika had been viciously attacked the night before.
While waving, she beckoned for him to come closer, all while still smiling.
no subject
Bendy closes the distance between them, their matching smiles mirrored. He bounces on the balls of his feet, peering up at her curiously as they both stood underneath the snow-laden branches of the tree.
His smile had been drawn on, etched in place since his creation; it was what he was made to do. Yet, somehow, he'd never thought a human could be the same.
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Peas in a pod, both of them.
She knew, however. Of course she did. May as well not even bother to pretend, right?
"Don't worry, I didn't tell anybody about last night."
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He rubbed at his arm, the facade slipping. Even if he knew how she could fake a smile, he couldn't guess why she would let the awful things he'd done to her go unrevealed. The Demon was a bad guy. It deserved punishment.
More than his shame, however, was his concern. Bendy looked up at her, his dark brow knit together in concern. He points at his neck--rather, where his neck ought to be--and then up at Monika. She looked mostly healed up, but he ought to check all the same.
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"Here, I brought you something."
She held out a notepad and pencil.
"This should make it easier for us to communicate!"
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He takes the paper from her, his smile somewhat sheepish, and quickly goes about scrawling a message down.
I AM SORRY
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"It's alright. It looked like you weren't really in a good place, yesterday."
The full moon, she'd known about the effects it could have on a monster. Did Bendy even have a bond?
"If anything, I'm the one who should apologize. I mean, I didn't even defend myself or anything! Talk about messed up, huh?"