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Ink City - The Animated Panfandom RPG

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014 | [Action | Inkside] | If only we had Derek Styles here...
regularbird wrote in ink_city
[... then maybe some people would have actually received some medical treatment.

Hi, Ink City! Mordecai's not feeling so good. He seems to have forgotten exactly how to not drip ink everywhere as he shuffles aimlessly through the city, leaving a trail of blots behind him. His eyes are also pupil-less, one of the few all-white things about the former bird. Confront, Y/N?]

[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.]

Mordecai!

[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-

Mordecai...?
]

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

ghkk...

[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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