queen of ink

1

It was shortly after all of the original creators of the cartoon were killed or corrupted, possessed by the ink now flowing in their veins. The studio is about to be bulldozed soon if no one buys it within the week. The one who does is a young woman by the name Rose Maryanne. She is twenty two with long floor length calico black hair and striking eyes so blue they look purple. She is about five feet tall at most and built like a dancer but with bigger hips and breasts. She loves to dance and sing and can normally be seen wearing her favorite baby doll sundress. The people she bought the place from tried to dissuade her from buying the place but she was adamant about wanting to renovate the old place as the show itself was her inspiration to be who she is today. After the contract was signed she immediately went over to take a look and see what needs the most help. She steps inside her petite ballet slippers not making a sound as she looks around. She spots an old cut out and smiles walking to it. "I remember you. Your bendy the dancing demon. I'm Rose Maryanne I look forward to working with you and the rest of the gang." She gives a closed eye smile before moving on to the ink room where the motor hums and clangs as the last person in here left it on. She runs her finger under the stream of ink getting a little blob on it. It seems to writhe on her palm as she touches it. "Hmmmm this would be great for retouching those cutouts I saw earlier.... it'll be my homework for tonight." She grabs some old ink bottles and fills them before collecting as many of the cutouts as she can carry and leaving with a call of good bye to the seemingly empty place. She sets them in the passenger seat and drives home all the while talking about her plans to renovate the place and maybe setup a museum or remake it as a cartoon vault. Pretty much just spitballing ideas to the air. Eventually she turns on the radio and just sings for the rest of the time. She really likes frank Sinatra and dolly parkson. Little did she know those cutouts have ears and a certain ink demon heard everything even her singing which blows Alice angels out of the water. Hmmmm..... she gets out and carefully brings the cutouts inside. Her house is actually the family estate about a mile or two away from the studio with six guest rooms a small ball room a large pond with a gazebo in the middle a cherry blossom rock garden a stable and a second house for the employees. Her mom and dad are always traveling for working. They are old money investors and they often take over and sell businesses. She on the other hand doesn't even get into that stuff she'd rather refurbish things like the studio. Mostly she will donate whatever she's working on and her parents approve because it's a tax reduction but this studio is for her. It'll be her escape from her parents pressure to get into the family business and or get married. Ha! She prefers dancing and singing over male affection. She's studied for years ever since she saw bendy dancing on that little screen. She sets them down in her room next to her desk and begins to undress into her poofy night shorts and tank top. A certain someone got quite a show if ya know what I mean which led to a very lonely activity. She puts a cut out onto her large art desk and opens the ink she brought along with a soft ink brush she made herself. She starts carefully painting the cutout with a fresh coat of ink machine ink thus strengthening a certain someone's sight in the cutouts. She wonders what to do about the white but it seems to fix itself which confuses her but she doesn't question it. Lots of weird things happen in that old studio. Once she runs out of ink she leans back and stretches it's almost midnight. She stands and bids the cutouts goodnight before sliding under the covers falling asleep. About an hour later a tall shadow seems to hover over her. It's drips ink on her floor and her blankets in little droplets as it rubs a white gloved hand through her silky calico hair. She seems to lean into the touch which has the figure flinch back in surprise. It slowly almost shakily puts the hand back and this time a sound like a purr comes from the small female. The figure gaining confidence and curiousity actually slides the hand down her bare shoulder receiving a shiver. She seems to stir so it turned into a puddle to hide until she settles back down. It creeps back up and traces her features carefully especially her lips. What a curious human. So at ease in his presence. He strokes her cheek and she lets out and adorable but quiet gasp in her sleep. He wonders if he should kill her right now or maybe later perhaps not at all.... he decides to keep a sharp eye on her and see what she's about. If he doesn't like what he finds he kills her if he does she lives. With that he disappears along with all of the finished cutouts but the unfinished stays. Gotta leave one to keep an eye on her. Around seven in the morning she wakes up and stretches luxuriously before getting out of bed. She steps in something sticky and looks down at a puddle of ink. She is confused didn't she run out? She shrugs and goes to her special art closet to get her supply cleaner. She begins scrubbing on her hands and knees her ass to the art desk. You could say he liked what he saw. Once that's done she gets dressed in her usual baby doll sundress and packs a large duffle back with a set of overalls, dance clothes, tools, art supplies, cleaning stuff, etc. she leaves with the unfinished cutouts in her arms the bag on the other side of her and she begins the short drive there. As usual she has a one sided conversation with the cutouts and tells him what she plans on doing today. Once there she again carefully lifts them up and enters the studio. She sets the bag down next to the cutouts before looking for a base of operations. She comes upon a room that makes her want to vomit. There on a metal table cruelly cut open is a Boris the wolf. She can't help the tears that run down her face as she shakily rubs the poor Boris on the cheek. "Oh Boris.... who could've done this? I'm gonna get you down okay? Then we can put you to rest properly. That sound good boy?" She looks for a way to get him down but after failing to find one she screams in rage and rips the straps off cutting her hands in the process. The Boris slumps to the ground and she pull him away from the accursed table her blood staining his fur. She pulls out a needle and thread before sewing up his chest cavity gently. "There we go buddy. Cmon lets get you to your final resting place eh?" She drags Boris outside as carefully as she can but she's to small so he gets banged up a little bit. She gets a shovel spending several hours digging a deep enough hole that he can fit in. Once he's buried she goes inside grabs some wood and ink before making a muralesque tombstone for Boris. Once that's done she hammers it at the head of Borises grave it's now three in the afternoon. She sighs and starts destroying the table with a mallet. So violent...... around six she has emptied the room and begins to drag some desks chairs and cabinets inside making a rather nifty office. She paints a mural for Boris in ink at the head of her main desk. It's ten o clock now but she doesn't seem to notice as she is searching the place to make sure there are no more horrors in the studio. After that's done she goes to her duffle bag and the cutouts bringing them to the new office. She finishes the cutouts and puts them back where they go for now before changing into her overalls to start cleaning. She mops, scrubs, and organizes everything all the while singing quietly. She puts all of the bacon soup on her shelves and sets an extra cutout in her office. It's midnight. She takes measurements of all of the rooms and starts drawing out floor plans. At around one she falls asleep at her desk and the tall figure is back. "Well aren't you a sweet little darlin...." he picks up a lock of her hair and sniffs it like a creep. So sweet.... he carefully picks her up and sets her on a mat she had found earlier. She's so tiny.... he gets a weird bubbly flutter in where his belly would be and wonders if he's sick. Wait he's never been sick before he's ink. Well whatever it was it's gone now. The figure covers her in a thin blanket and sets a plushy of himself next to her to which she immediately snuggles. There it is again... well it was the least he could do for her kindness towards that Boris. She's stronger than she looks. The figure stares at her blankly for about an hour before leaving. Maybe he can kill her later. She wakes up in the morning and is met with a view she doesn't remember. She was at the desk wasn't she? And where did this plushy come from? It's cute as hell tho so she's ok with this. She gets up and eats a sandwich she had packed with a can of bacon soup. She then gets right to work covering the furniture with tarp she brought with her and starts hammering boards back into their rightful places. It takes her most of the day but she gets it done and she scrubs up a few new ink puddles before breaking for lunch. After that she leaves to her house plush in hand to get more supplies. She loads appliances into the truck with the help of some of her employees that do yard work. After packing more food and clothes she heads back to the studio. If the yard workers didn't know better they'd say she's moving out but that's crazy. Not to HIM tho as soon as he saw her packing he knew she was gonna move in. But why tho? He himself would prefer the large family home over the cursed studio any day. It would give him a better chance at finding an excuse to kill her tho so he's not gonna fuss about it. She manages to get most everything inside by nightfall but her cut hands were hurting her so she turned in early after putting new bandages on them. The figure comes again like clockwork and looks at what she brought. An older tv that had a built in vcr player in it and several tapes that look familiar. A small fridge and a microwave. About three or four metal cabinets. A nice two person mattress and mini washer/dryer. There are more things outside. She has been working hard. The studio hasn't looked this nice in years. The figure flicks his tail in thought. Perhaps she is just what this place needs. Perhaps she can bring this damned empire back to its former glory if not better. But that would mean making her his queen since he's the king. The ink machine chose him after all. Not a bad idea but she's a human she'll scream and run like all the others. Well if she does it means she's not worthy of the queen status anyway. He notices her shivering under the thin blanket and he sighs before disappearing to his nest grabbing one of the thicker blankets he doesn't need and appearing next to her. He lays it over her but she had curled around his arm in her sleep. "Heh cute darling but ya gotta let me go. I've got rounds to make." She only curls tighter her whole body trembling and he sighs. "Fine but ya owe me big time doll face." He carefully lays down next to her and he inhales sharply as she turns cuddling into his chest before he can even get completely comfortable. "Strange girl....." he carefully and awkwardly puts his arms around her before sighing in relief when she seems to relax completely in his arms. He stares at her for hours his glowing red pacman like eyes taking in every little twitch and movement like it's a religion. Occasionally she tries to smother herself in his furry chest making him chuckle quietly if not creepily. At one point she actually opens her eyes which makes him freeze until he realizes she's not actually entirely conscious. He rubs her cheek soothingly and she closes her eyes with a sleepy huff. Such an adorable princess.... a little kitten almost.