Ink City default

Ink City - The Animated Panfandom RPG

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[If he didn't know better Yakko'd say that one looks kinda like Mordecai.]


Standing there staring for a second or five, don't mind him]

[Oh. Hi, Yakko. Here, have some more staring. And dripping. Did I mention that?

He doesn't seem to notice the freak out, just sorta... cocking his head a bit in confusion.]

[Staring contest!]

Aaahhhhhh... hi!

[Staaaaaaaaaaaare. And some light gurgling. Or is that growling?]

Y'know, for a bird you don't sound very chirpy.

[He might be backing away a bit. In fact he is backing away a step.]

[No, probably not. But he will open his beak up.

And let out an unnatural, high-pitched scream. Hello, nightmares.]

[Ow. Did we say ow?]

No, no, you still don't sound very chirpy. Listen just- just forget I brought it up.

[Oh, you didn't like it? Too bad, he's doing it again. And starting to lurch towards the Warner. He just wants to know whats going on...]

[Backing up a bit more now.]

Oh, sure, I see how it is. Fine, have it your way. But if you won't drop it, I will.

[Processing... processing... see icon for face... nope, don't understand it. Another confused scream.]

Knock that off, willya? If you keep this up I won't have any hearing left.

--On second thought, keep going; that way I won't have to hear Trevor's speeches.

[Hey, there was a word he recognized!] ... tRevoR...? [Something seems to stick out in ink!Mordi's mind, something about this Trevor guy...]

Remember? The Rob Liefeld special?

[... Nope. You lost him. He's still processing what Trevor is supposed to mean to him, so he's just kinda standing still.]

What? Is it something I said?

*Ever since the audling incident, Ichigo's been keeping her katamari on hand as much as possible. She's not out looking for trouble; she just feels safer with a nice, good-sized sphere of stuff between her and whatever's out there.*

*Given that Ink City is looking less and less like Ink City and more like Silent Hill...*

*However, Ichigo is not familiar enough with the survival horror genre to make that connection. She just knows she's getting really, really tired of black and white. And of random green things that mock their efforts. And creepy ink monsters wandering the streets instead of staying in the forest where they're supposed to be.*

*So when she starts seeing fresh splotches staining the ground, she almost turns right around and heads the other direction. But...! Just to be extra cautious, she carefully balances her katamari in place before carefully creeping to one side, juuuust enough that she can peer around it...*


*...That can't be right. She's seeing things. Hallucinating. Only explanation.*

Muh... Miste--

*Don't. Say. A word. Saying something makes it real. And this-- this isn't--*

[Sorry it had to be like this, Ichigo, but this is not the Mordecai you know. It's like a shell, really, going through the motions of having a vaguely bird-shaped body, mostly because the muscles wouldn't work if it was anything else. As such, it's moving pretty unnaturally, shuffling and slumping around, leaving behind drips and drags of ink.]

*And that...*

*That helps her keep telling herself that it's not him, as she ducks back behind her katamari and tries to stop shaking. It's not him. It just... just looks like him, be-because... because the ink monsters have a sick sense of humor, is all! T-that, or that... that thing's just trying to imitate one of the strongest, most reliable, stable people around...*

*...Yeah. That has to be it. Stupid thing's breaking down and wants to be more stable. That's all.*

[Stability is not the word of the day here, sorry. It's more... corruption. Somewhere in there is the City-weary reporter, but it's been pretty much taken over by whatever is causing people to becoming horrible inky monstrosities.

Speaking of, hey! Do you like unnatural sounds? Because whatever is coming from ink!Mordi's beak is not what's supposed to be coming out of anybody's mouth. Ever.]


*Cowering behind the cover of her katamari, she clutches the sides of her head and tries to will the not-Mordecai away. That's not him. That's not him. That's not him that's not him that's not him that's not him no no no no no NO NO NO--*

[... it kinda is. Mostly. A little bit. But hey, maybe you'll get to meet him! 'cause he's heading your way.

*...What part of 'no no no no NO NO NO' do you not understand? (|¬_¬|)*

*Not that it matters much. After all, Ichi's 'flight' instinct has just kicked in, and she's rapidly rolling her katamari away.*

*...She could try and take him out, but... no. No no no.*

[... Ichigo? Don't look back. Mordimonster is sprinting after you now. It's mostly out of instinct, in that he knows that whatever you're doing is interesting. And that he should pursue it.]

*What? Look back...?*


*...Oh. Oh, Uncle, where are you when she needs you most? What she wouldn't give for a Royal Rainbow now -- or better yet, some sign of the real Mordecai!*

*In lieu of either, however, running is a good plan, too. A very, very good plan.*

[...She knows better. Ghosts and the restless dead were common enough in Kanto - even ignoring ghost-type pokémon - that she knew quite well what rampaging undead looks like, even if it looks to be made more out of ink than flesh., no. She's not going to confront. She's going to float a safe distance away, and watch.]

[Hey! Tiny floating thing! You're a tiny floating thing! And not the cracked Inkside. Which means you're interesting!

Time to go investigate the tiny floating thing.]

[As stated, she knows better. She'll stay close enough for you to look, but she is going to stay high out of reach.

Can you fly, Mordezombie? Could you even fly in a non-inky state? Because you're going to need to if you want to get your drippy undead feathers on her.]

[You're not alone in your aimless shuffling, Mordecai.

That's what the ink creature formerly known as Benson had been doing since his accident. But the somewhat familiar figure of an inky Mordi has caught him off guard, bringing back scraps of memories and a flash of cognizance.

He approaches, trying to say his name but only managing a faint gurgle.]

[Oh crap. Mordi's not as far gone. Or maybe he is. But he suddenly feels a pang of remorse as he sees what his former boss has devolved to.]

B... ben...son...?

[Hearing his own name is like a bolt of lightning to the brain. It's helping him keep himself together, he even experiences a pang of panic rather than an absence of emotion. Everything feels alien.]


[He's suddenly aware of what's happened to them, and a flash of regret and horror takes hold.

Mordecai! What happened to us?!

I'm sorry, I shouldn't have left, I wanted to help-


[He realizes he hasn't said anything, and his second attempt at vocalization is strangled with ink.]


[Benson's expression is pained- he wants to talk clearly, but his body isn't working right.]

[.... Right. Mordecai. That's who he was. And this was... his boss... who he hated? Was that right? He seems to have some trouble processing what's going on, as conflicting images of life before and during the city pop into his already occupied head.

It's like watching one of those classic sci-fi robots try to compile a logic bomb: they just stand there, idling, not quite sure what to do next.]

[The lack of further stimulation is making everything fade again. But he can't shake the nagging feeling that he had to do something.. or say something? But what?

Even the urgency starts to vanish, and he growls in frustration. He remembers their names, at least.. But WHO they are is starting to become confusing.]

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