Hello Cindercat! Remember Me From DeviantArt?

Hello Cindercat! Remember me from DeviantArt?

Oh yo dude! didn't know you had a tumbler.

I’ve actually been thinking of using this tumbler page a bit more often after a little inspiration. I will still be mainly active on my DA page but I figure to start off why not make my own take on an AU and since I’ve been on a TUGS roll as of late why not start there?

Admittedly this is maybe not an original one but one I don’t see much talked about in all honesty. A good ‘ol classic what if the good guys where bad and vice-versa. So here we go!

Zero Fleet-

> Obviously you have to start with the head of it all, Captain Zero. Or as his full name- Zero Zero. Born in France and then moving to America when he was a child, Zero’s childhood dream was to be a sailor and when he graduated school he made plans to move to Bigg City. Unfortunately a grandfather of his passed away during this time and in his will he left Zero his tug boat to help him start up a business. This tugs name was Morran or as many other tugs gave him flak for, Moron. As soon as Zero had made preparations to head to Bigg City he was happy to meet Morran for the first time. Needless to say he was swift in getting the tug repainted and having his name changed to Zorran, the two grew to be happily fond of the other and made it known that they trust each other a lot.

> Onto the No.1 himself- Zorran! Zorran was previously owned by Captain Zero’s grandfather though he was never used much. The idea of a status symbol if you owned a boat so he was kept in dry dock sleeping out his young years until the grandfather passed away and Zorran was given to Zero in the old mans will. Zorran is by no means old, he spent at best 3 years in dry dock so he’s mentally around his 30′s when he meets Zero for the first time. After about a year of being owned and working for Zero at some point the captain bought another tug who Zorran was in charge of showing around. Zorran often whistles through the gap in his teeth when he’s working and Zero finds it impressive that Zorran has a pretty decent talent.

> Moving to No.2 is Zebedee. Unlike his cannon counterpart Zebedee is actually an ocean tug. And also oddly enough his real name is Zebedee but he prefers the name Zebadiah as he finds his real one sort of childish for a tug like himself, but Zorran and Zero call him Zeb to smooth things out but the name Zebadiah is painted on his bow from his request to Captain Zero.

> No.3 is Zak or what his bow fully reads- Zakary. An ice breaker tug and the only one in Bigg City harbor making him in huge demand for the winter months. He hates it when people pronounce his name Zak-kar-ie so he just tells them to call him Zak but he doesn’t want the name on his bow changed. He’s a tug of few words and being rather blunt which has made for one too many instances where he’s accidently insulted someone, he’s not cold though, just not preferring to be the centre of attention.

> No.4 we have Zug. Zug before he came to the Zero fleet was actually abused rather harshly by his previous owner, this being why he is actually missing his left eye. He is still traumatized and has frequent panic attacks and has developed insomnia because of his past fears (which the Star-stacks mock him for and are behind half of the panic attacks he has when they intentionally spook him. Zorran has taken measures though to at least have one member with him everyday or close by.)

> No.5 we have Zip. Living up to his name sake he is rather hyper, talking really fast to the point if you think coffee is his fuel source. He protects Zug to a default and whenever the Star-stacks try to sneak up on Zug he creeps them out by how aggressively fast he is, almost to the point of Pinky Pie hyper and sometimes breaking the fourth wall.

> For a surprising 6 we have Zoomer, or as he likes- Zoom. A tug with a reputation of bad luck after he was brought into the Zero’s, Zorran was determined to help Zoom with his jinx. After a lot of trial and error the two eventually found a complex pattern that Zoom then exploited, making him have this almost supernatural power to jinx what ever he pleases. (Usually the Star-stacks) As thanks he often sticks by Zorran, going as far as to call him a best friend.

> As a late 7 we have- Z.J. Originally being the Star-stacks number 3 and being named O.J, when the paddle steamer had his engine blow out on him he was almost scrapped when Captain Zero bought him and had him repaired. A reclusive old tug to the point of being considered mute Z.J (as he was renamed) prefers to work alone and be to his own devices. Zug and Zak often company him in silence, their beliefs that actions speak louder than words. In truth Z.J is a sweet old man when you let him talk on his own terms, he had just developed this introverted quirk while working for the Star-stacks as they often told him to be quiet, calling him an old fool often. Like Zug he just needs time to recover and so far working for the Zeros he couldn’t be more happy that people actually want to listen to him.

This is already long enough so I’ll leave the Star-stacks for a second post. Feel free to ask and expect human art of these guys in the future as well as quite possibly a fanfic on Ao3, until then, Bye!

(Also credit to @funnie-train-hell for their original idea of Zorran’s name formerly being Morran before he joined the Z’s and @the-starfleet for their own idea in their reverse AU of Zeb being a ocean tug and where I got the idea of Zorran and Boomer being good friends. I apologize for not adding that sooner I honestly didn’t expect this to get noticed and thank you for flagging me down for it.)

Stuff for a toon Bendy and the ink machine AU I’m doing the fanfic will be posted on my D.A page. 

Deku Might by cindercat01

Mario: “Weegee? what is it?”

Luigi: “I think we need to run... NOW.”

Toon out

(Pull off the ink)

 It had been a few days sense Henry Ross came to his old work place before he was drafted to world war one and two. The reason he was here at all was because of his ‘friend’ Joey Drew. Joey sent him a letter, saying he wanted to show Henry something. After all these years Henry thought there was still some good in his old boss slash friend. But he couldn’t have been more wrong.

 For the time being he was bunking down with Boris the Wolf, a meant to be cartoon charter he made and animated while he worked here back in his youth days. The man was now at his late fifties which was now not good for him as he constantly has black outs at the worst of times. But that wasn’t the big bad thing that Henry was afraid of.

 Ever sense he came into contact with a massive pentagram on the floor drawn out of ink, he has been far out of sorts.

He has been having ink crawl up his arms and legs for the past fair share of hours, and it has been moulding into forms of boots and oversized front limbs, his hair before the ink started climbing up his body had long sense turned a tar like black. His hair was a light chestnut colour with a bit of grey here and there before, but now it looked like it was natural.

But Henry definitely found a little good in this. He started retaining a lot of his youth, looking like he was in his mid-thirties when he started looking in the mirror. That was something he was not going to complain about.

 But as time did go on, the old man found himself starting to not really like the change. It got far worse. The ink now came up to his hips and chest, the ink had turned it’s self into white half sleaves with gold elastic silk holding onto his elbow that over lapped for what Henry could guess was for design. Bronze buttons ran up these sleeves to the elastic.

Same design when’t for his legs, starting at his knees then ending at his ankles.

 But what came for his hands where black tar coloured claws, and he had the same coloured boots that were under the cloth around his legs. All the ink on his body played the new role as his skin, Henry long sense dint wear a shirt anymore, but at least he got to show off a developing six pack. The ink started making its way up his neck, his hair taking shape of spikes as the ink blended into its unnatural style.

  Henry woke up the same way he did for the past few days. Get up, go to the bathroom, check the mirror… it wasn’t his favourite part of his new routine, but he checked anyway. His hair had turned into a form of horns looking simular to Bendy’s but more sharper. And the ink was making its way to his face.

 “Henry?” a voice asked from behind the man, Henry jumped a little and turned to see Boris staring at him, “oh hay bud’” Henry answered “what are you doing?” he asked.

“I just wanted to see how you looked to day. This thing has been speeding up really quickly for a while now…” the toon wolf said in concern. “Yeah you’re right…” Henry dint want to believe it, but if he dint then he would start to go into denial, and maybe end up as insane as everyone else in this studio.

 “I achily had an idea to,” the wolf said to lighten up the mood “oh really? What?” Henry asked. “I know it might be dangerous but, w-well more than usual. But… what if we…” the toon started to come off, “what?” Henry asked somewhat curious to see were the toon wanted to go.

 Boris sighed and said, “I read two of Joey’s books and one says there’s a way to bring back someone’s memories from this place, and it said how to bring them back.” The wolf said looking at Henry. Said man looked at the toon with a shocked look on his face like he just told the man that a relative died. Henry shook his head and looked at the toon, “So you’re telling me, we could give someone’s memories back out of this whole studio?” he asked in short. “Yeah,” was the wolfs quick answer.

 After a bit of showing Henry to Joey’s books, they had an idea on who to help. Henry suggested Norman Polk, or the ‘projectionist’ as “Alice” called him. Henry remembers being really good friends with Norman before he was drafted to go to the war, and he would make an easier person to help than someone like Sammy. But then came the plan.

 “Okay, we just turn this into holy-ink.” Boris said holding a glass bottle of normal ink, “then cut out his main ink supply, and after a bit he’ll be despite for ink then we give him it, and then you ask him if he remembers you,” that’s the plan. “Sounds easy enough…” Boris commented, “No.” Henry said, “Easier said than done…”

 Henry grabbed a paint brush, dipped it in ink and painted a pentagram on the floor changing the symbols in it, so it does what they want it to do. And that is to change the normal ink in the bottle to holy-ink. And this is the easy part of the plan.

 Once the ink in the bottle changed, the two headed out. Henry grabbing an axe for good measure. They quickly came up to the lift and Henry pushed the number 14 button, the lift shifted a little before they slowly came to their floor. With no sign of Norman they walked over to the pipes. Henry rest’s his axe against his leg and turns the wheel on the pipe, the ink in the room stops flowing. Now all they had to do was drain it. But that came the really hard part, the lever you had to pull was at the end of the maze where Norman lurked.

 Henry and Boris flinched when they heard a whine come from the entries of said labyrinth.

 Taking a deep breath, Henry walked up to the doors where the ink stained catacombs were while Boris walked back up the stairs, but not in the lift. Henry felt the ink on his head move and writher as it felt like it was taking a shape, the man long sensed realized that walking through the ink speeded up the change that was happening to him, but he pushed the feeling aside and kept moving. Walking past they’s somehow still stable corpses of the butcher gang will always freak Henry out, but finally he found the switch.

 He quickly pulled it and started speed walking out of this seaming endless maze. But he heard a gruff of static behind him, a blinding light flicked on behind him casting his shadow on to the ink stained wood, the shadow was in the silhouette of a demon with three even horns on each side of its head. Henry was for a second more interested in his shadow than what was behind him, but a punch to the back fixed that, “Ah!” Henry yelled from the punch.

 Henry flew in the air for a bit then hit the floor with a thud and rolled through a few puddles of ink, he got up leaving his axe on the floor and started running. On the way out he rammed the side of his head into a wall accidently and for some reason couldn’t pull his head off the wood, he gave a massive yank and pulled his head out but kept running even with his dazed sight, hearing wood peace’s hit the floor as he made his run to keep going.

 He came out from the maze and ran up the stairs to Boris, the wolf flinched when Henry was bolting towards him. He stopped a few meters away from the toon, to politely catch his breath.

The toon was looking at an ink creature from where he was, a little shocked from what had ran at him a few seconds ago.

 What was in front of him was a black devil looking creature with black skin covering it from what Boris could see. Till it stood up.

It had the same sleave peaces that Henry had, black ink ran up its body to its pectoralis major mussels, it had even horns on each side two small ones at the very top then two massive ones that made it look like their ears and the bottom ones were in a thorn shape, and its face was palely white.

 It looked over from ware it just ran up the stairs, and at the start of the ink labyrinth. “I think where good…” Boris was shocked, this was Henry?!

…oh god it speed up really quick…

“H-henry…” Boris’s voice was stuttering and Henry dint like it. “Yeah bud?” He just paid attention to what Boris was looking at, and how he was acting “what’s wrong…?” Henry was now concerned, but the answer soon hit him like a ton of bricks. Henry started looking himself down, his whole skin was covered in ink and his head felt heavy. “Boris… h-how long do we have to wait till we need to give Norman the holy-ink?” Henry said checking himself down, is pants dint even look like they were present, and a very nice six pack showed through the ink, that’s all Henry could see from his point. But he knew from Boris’s look on his face that the was so not it… very far from it in fact. “A-ah… three hours from now I g-guess, but… h-how are y-you holding up?” that question definitely threw Boris of before. How can he be so dam calm!

 “Fine, I guess… well as fine as a can be” Henry said in a calm tone, if Henry wasn’t worried then why should Boris?

Boris calmed down and looked back at the ink labyrinth, were the ink minotaur laid in wait for maybe Henry to go back down. “So we can maybe go back to the fort?” Henry asked. “No, if we leave he might go looking for another food source, or as Joey put it ‘ink-source’.” Henry did not like hearing that name come out of the wolf mouth, to him it tasted worse than someone force making him drink ink. It just had that poison to it.

 With hardly anything else said the two waited for Norman to come up the stairs to look for ink. Boris said that, ink is ink down here. No matter what kind it was, ink monsters would still eat it, or… drink it to the best of their abilities or knowledge. After waiting for an hour, Norman came up the stairs to the two. Henry opened the bottle and left it in front of him.

 When Norman came to the top, the projection on his head turned down to see the ink in a bottle. The light that came through his lens flickered off, and he walked towards it. He picked it up and put his hand on top of the bottle, and flipped it upside down. And the ink started slowly disappearing from the bottle, once Norman was done he let the bottle drop to the floor, but a static whine escaped the speaker in his chest.

 He suddenly hunched down holding his head, but he could sense someone in front of him. And, someone talking?

He hasn’t been able to hear anything sense this projection came on his head, but he could hear things, slowly coming to sound. It felt like, water popped in his ears and was coming out, he felt the ink in the projection take shape of a head, his head. He could hear someone talking to him. “Norman… do you know who I am? What is my name? Who am I to you? Am I friend or enemy?” so many questions… but he felt like he knew that voice, he felt like he knew these questions. He knows this person, he knows that voice, and he knows who’s right in front of him. “H-H-Hen- (static) –rey…” Norman’s voice came through the speaker in his chest, but it was somewhat filled with static. “Henry… (Static)” Norman was remembering Henry, from the time they first meet to the time he told Norman he was drafted and had to go,

 A flash back came of him, walking around the corner to see Henry looking at some drawings and not watching where he was going. They bumped heads, and pulled away. Norman started giggling about how cartoon like that just was, and Henry snickered, finding the same humour. Then they both brought out laughing.

 “You were… A-are! My (Static) friend… co-worker… you were drafted to- (Static) –to, go to war…” that was what Henry really wanted to hear, “Oh grate,… you remember me,” Henry said glade to have a good friend back from this hell hole. Norman lifted his head to meet Henry’s sight, but he could guess the ink favoured him a little, seeing how he was covered in it but he looked something similar to what Henry drew when he worked here.

 Henry could now see a faint gold yellow spot in Norman’s lens, making jerking movements like an eye. “How are you feeling?” Henry asked. “Okay, as I can be I (Static) guess…” Norman answered. From were Boris was, he was so shocked. How the hell do they’s two stay so calm!?

 But suddenly ‘Alice’s’ voice came over some speakers. “Well my errand boy you did it. Giving me back a bit more of my turf, that was stolen from me!” her voice came. “So Norman, how do you feel? Not as limiting is it?” she teased. “Come on,” Henry said, giving Norman a shoulder up. “Thanks,” Norman said as they got in the lift.

 The three started speed walking back to the safe house. But they heard a gargled, sticky hiss come from one way. So they had to go the opposite path… much to Henry’s dislike. They walked through the demon path way, and got their feet wet with ink. Henry tripped over a lose floor board, and fell face first into a pool of ink. Said ink was up to your knees, so the man just dived into a literal pool of ink. He pulled his head out from the liquid, and spat a bunch of it back into the pool. He wiped a hand full of it off, and looked back up to the toon and projectionist. But what they saw was definitely not going to make Henry’s day even better than it already was.

 His face had turned completely white like paper, and his facial features where gone. No eye lashes, eye brows, nose, lips, nothing!

But what was there now were pie cut, black eyes. And a thin black web of ink was rising out from the pool, looking like it was attached to Henry. A tail,

A thin black looking demon tail, with three barbs fused into the tip.

 “Guys… what’s wrong?” His voice sounded a bit more cheerful than its normal hush self. Henry stood up and looked himself down. His eyes and black part of his head were his only way of emotion being told. His eyes shrunk, and a look of panic filled his face. “Oh…” he said. You could tell his heart sank to his feet.

  After a near panic session the trio walked the rest of the way back to the safe house. Henry and Norman took a long look in the mirror for the rest of the afternoon, till something came up to stop them.