(2) Ink-surrection (BATIM/EPICMICKEY/CUPHEAD)

3- The Ink Spring

"It's coming up from the ground, like a spring." Cuphead described as narration to the drawing he was making on the old chalkboard he dug up from Elder Kettle's attic.

The brothers were in the living room of the house, brightly lit on all sides by windows. "I can't think in the dark," Cuphead had grumbled as he opened all the curtains—much to Mugman's dismay.

The chalk made and uncomfortable squeaking noise that made Mugs grind his jaw.

"And...does that mean that the ink is under the whole Isle?" Mugman inquired through clenched teeth in an effort to participate in Cuphead's little investigation.

"I mean..." Cups aggressively dragged the chalk across the board, filling in a white, dusty blob that was supposed to be a puddle of ink, "...I guess, but what does that mean?"

Cuphead stood back from the board, and Mugs sighed in relief as the wretched sound of chalk stopped.

"That it's not a big deal?" Mugs tried answering, but Cuphead brushed him off.

"Gosh, Mugman, of course it is! Something could be seriously wrong with the Isles!"

It was an interesting change of pace to say the least when it was Cuphead who decided to make a big deal, rather than his worrisome brother. Mugs took on his new role with hesitation, as he looked for some rational reason to convince Cuphead to let his fruitless investigation go.

"Or...it could be nothing? It did rain a lot yesterday, maybe that flooded the "ink spring" which made it overflow?"

"Since when are you trying to play this as nothing—?" Cuphead turned around with a toothy grin of something he found humorous, "—Why am I the one who's freakin' out here?"

"I wouldn't say "freaking out"...more like, you're actually caring—"

"Pfft—yeah, yeah whatever," Cuphead waved his hand in Mugman's face, before plopping down on the chair next to him, "Okay—so, we gotta do something."

In a synchronized motion, both brothers crossed their arms are leaned back into their chairs, so deep in their own thoughts they didn't even notice each other.

Mugman furrowed his brow at a complete loss. Soon his gaze at the board turned to Cuphead, who seemed lost in his own little world of possible solutions.

Mugs sighed, deciding that Cuphead would be better off thinking up an answer than him, and turned his head to the window, preparing for a patient wait of silence until Cuphead came up with something.

Through the window was a glistening horizon of an undisturbed ocean, their tranquility disturbed by the jagged movement of an unidentifiable figure. The figure was heaving itself over the cliff edge that separated Elder Kettle's yard from the deep blue.

"Hey—Cups..!" Mugs whispered—as if the creature would hear—and clenched Cuphead's forearm, his fingers digging into his brother's skin.

"Hey—ow! Ow—! Golly, what the..." Then Cuphead saw it, "...hell?

Mugs instinctively scolded him through clenched teeth with, "Language!" However neither brother paid mind to each other.

They both exchanged bewildered glances—as if communicating—and scurried to the window.

Slowly peering above the windowsill with pounding hearts, the cups studied the creature, which dragged itself painfully slowly across yard, staining the pristine green grass with black.

"Woah..." Cuphead whispered as if in awe, though the emotion he was feeling made him rather feel sick instead.

"...What is it?" Mugman whispered back, both cups' eyes glued to the creature.

"I dunno..."

"Should we go out there?"

"Uh..." Cuphead began, sizing up the creature. It was rather pathetic in the way it dragged itself across the ground, making a mess as it went. "...looks pretty harmless."

After a moment of hesitation, both brothers flung themselves to their feet, and made their way to the door.

The creature lifted it's head up at the sound of the boys leaving their house. It was faceless, but it had eyes of neon green that narrowed at the sight of them.

"Yikes..." Cuphead grimaced at the sight of it. Mugs elbowed him, whispering: "Don't be rude!"

"Uh...hello!" Mugman spoke to the creature, which at first hesitated at the new sound, but began crawling forward as it had been doing before. Aggressively.

"I don't think it's happy to see us." Mugman took a step back, pulling his brother with him.  The creature lunged itself towards Cuphead, making a gurgling snarling noise that came from deep within it's chest.

In a (literal) flash, Cuphead was standing in front of the limp body of the creature that had begun seeping into the ground, his finger still tingly and poised to strike. Cuphead had instinctively shot the creature with the power of literal finger guns both he and his brother possessed.

"A knockout!" The gruff voice of Elder Kettle sent shocks down the brothers' spines as they whipped their whole bodies around.

Elder Kettle stepped up the final step leading to his house, waving the boys down.

"Elder Kettle!" Cuphead and Mugman cried out in relieved unison, running towards their mentor.

"Did you see that!" Cups pointed to the puddle of ink that was once the creature.

"I sure did! I came up here to warn ya that monsters were coming from those ink puddles—looks like you already know." Elder Kettle nodded towards his yard now coated in  a path of black ink, as if someone sloppily ran a paint roller across it.

The boys both nodded, inviting Elder Kettle to continue.

"Anyway...it turns out that Djimmi the Genie found out where it's coming from—and he's asked you boys to go check it out!"

"Us? Why us?!" Mugman exclaimed, but his cries were shushed by Cuphead.

"Because we're heroes, stupid! Of course he'd want none other than us!" Cups puffed his chest with pride, casting a sly glance of gloating to Mugman, who scoffed.

"Alright—alright," Mugs pushed Cuphead to the side, stepping forward, "What should we do now?"

"Go to his temple; he's waiting for you." Elder Kettle pointed his cane down the road, before turning back to the boys—his nephews—with eyes glistening with both pride and concern.

"Promise me you boys'll be careful!" He said, eyeing both cups with a look that can't be lied to.

"We promise, Elder Kettle!" They both replied in rehearsed synchronization with the words Elder Kettle would always hear before they got into trouble.

Elder Kettle chuckled softly in a soft, defeated remorse as he watched his nephews run far from his view.

"Please be safe..."