Showtime Showdown (Reversed Story, BATIM + SB)

Chapt. 2 |☆| Part 3 - Meeting Mr. Lawrence

Bandit whipped around as quick as he could; Catching sight of the stranger, however, caused him to nearly freeze in his tracks.

This stranger was stringless, shaped like a human yet without any visible ears.

A part of him would consider the guy an odd human at a glance, if he didn't catch sight of the four-fingered hands and the other's slick, inky skin.

He wasn't human, but he certainly wasn't a puppet;
Wearing a familiar cutout head like a mask, though the pale paint had worn off in spots and a hole was cut, a mouth just barely visible and oddly.. calm? Unsurprised?

"Geez- Sorry, fella; You okay?"
He offered a hand as the other's hand brushed where he'd been hit, staring almost... stunned.
"I didn't mean to hurt ya', honest-- Please don't sneak up on me like that!"

There was a moment where the other pulled his hand gently away from the injured spot, destabilized and dripping; as Bandit caught sight of this, his jaw practically dropped from horror.

Ohhh shoot, he busted this guy-- He was getting all liquidy and weak in that spot! That's not good!!
"I--"
Bandit nervously gripped his own ears, the stranger seeming a tad surprised. Oh shoot, oh shoot-
"Sorry!! I'm sorry, oh geez-"
"No, Do not fret."

The man's voice in that moment, interrupting his panic- It was soft, compassionate.
A once broken and maddened tone now slipped into something sweeter.

"I was the one who.. provoked this action.
I have been a tad carried away, as of late; I'm sorry."

'Carried Away'?
Any normal person would likely take this as a flag of suspicion, but Bandit instead completely skipped over it.

"Shoot, but I hurt'cha-" "Not to worry! It is but a minor... imperfection. It will smooth over, soon enough."

Bandit sighed in relief, drooping a tiny bit before realizing something, quickly putting on a big smile and offering a hand.

"Right! Well- Good thing I didn't hurt'cha... too bad, then-
Sorry again, though-
Here, lemme help ya' up!"

After a small pause of hesitation, the man grabbed onto his hand, accepting the help with a smile just barely visible under the shadows of the mask.

But, as he went from on the floor to standing up, he went from seeming fairly doc-sized to...

Bandit felt tiny.

That was the best way to put it; Bandit was already short, but this made him too aware of that.
"Hoo, buddy..." Bandit whispered under his breath, expression shifting to one of surprise and head tilting upright as the stranger stood over him.

"Uh- A-Anyways," Bandit quickly pushed on a sheepish smile.
"The name's Showdown Bandit! But, uh- You can call me Bandit." He added a small laugh, shaking the other's hand as he did so.

"You may call me 'Lawrence'; I am- or, well.. Was, the Music Director of this old studio."
"Pleasure to meet'cha!"

With that, he let go.
"Golly, though.. This place sure don't seem right- You must have some buds to help ya' out, right?"
"Ah, no." Lawrence responded, shaking his head. "I survive alone here, I suppose. Though, I am not entirely alone--"

With a gesture towards the pipe nearby, Lawrence sounded as if off in space for just a moment when he spoke again.
"--as the Ink Demon watches all of us."

Okay, to be honest, that's quite unsettling.
"Is, uh-" Bandit started hesitantly, glancing at the pipe. "Is that a good or bad thing?"

"Oh," Lawrence chuckled. "It varies, you see;
For some, it is very bad- for others, a blessing.
He favors me the title of His Prophet, so I am certain he is quite happy about such a kind soul."

Once again, another flag that Bandit completely misses, sighing in relief and wiping at his forehead with an arm. "Whew! I've already gotten chased once, I didn't want it to happen again..

..Say," Bandit started, blinking slightly in realization. "You're survivin' alone, I'm explorin' alone... how 'bout we explore together?"

Now, that seems to surprise the prophet clearly enough Bandit sees it.
"Well, uh- Unless you don't want ta', 'course! I'd hate ta' be draggin' you around if y'prefer bein'-"

"I would be honored." Lawrence interrupts, snapping the puppet from his panic.
"To be quite honest, I have been here a long time; I have almost forgotten the joy of companionship.

To be able to follow another and explore the deeper parts of this studio... Would be my pleasure."

Oh!
Oh he talks big, but that's a yes!
Bandit beamed, nodding wide.
"Alrighty! Then it's time fer' exploration!" He cheered, hopping slightly as he walked onwards, Lawrence chuckling before following behind.

But, for just a moment, the prophet paused; Glancing back at the room as he gently placed a hand on the back of the chair beside him.

The pipe nearby began to gurgle, and with a short pause, he gripped the wooden back hard enough ink began to drip down it.

Too much force, whispered a voice. Your body remains unstable, Prophet. Do not push your limit.

"...-awrence? Hey, Lawrence!" Bandit's voice finally processed, the inky man glancing over.
"Y'alright?"
"Yes, sorry- I got... Distracted. I thought I'd heard something."

"Heard somethin'?" Bandit questioned, and he responded with a small chuckle.
"It was just the ink flowing within the pipes; Nothing to worry about, Bandit."
"If'ya say so." Bandit nodded.

And then, it was time to go on.