Dances of Duality (Bendy and the Ink Machine)

7- A Broken Record

Author's Notes: The art for this chapter is by Moonshadow0 on Tumblr.

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"For still the vision awaits its appointed time; it hastens to the end—it will not lie. If it seems slow, wait for it; it will surely come; it will not delay." – Habakkuk 2:3

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They continued on even after their flight was done, Joey humming along with the rusted but still oh so charming phonograph in the backdrop. Francine and he swayed slowly, hand in hand, as proof that maybe darkness can still contain some light- that a world devoid of God's good graces could still find something worthwhile, worth trusting, and...

As Francine's eyes gaped at the walls around them, the creator's soft singing in her ear as she looked over his shoulder, she realized that there was something still worth...loving, too. It was both perplexing and so full of hope to see Joey like this; the drawings around them he still looked fondly upon- even remembered the names of the children who drew them for him; the way he let a small smile arch up his face; the way his hands held hers as he convinced her she could dance.

It was...remarkable how someone in such misery could reconcile it to find things to make his forced living worthwhile. And if she was a part of it, well...she was just that more proud to give that to him.

After all, his care was quickly something she had grown fond and familiar with, as well. Even in the distress of their first meeting, it could be spotted then he had nothing but-

...Hm.

An interesting thought came to her mind as the young woman thought back to that moment.

"Joey?"

Yet another hum but of a different sort sounded close by- an indication of acknowledgement as eyes glinting with honey-toned candlelight crossed over to his peripheral to look at Francine.

His smile did not waver, but his eyes did grow more slit with ponderance as a silence clung in the air, the only noise that of their steps occasionally shuffling over paper as an orchestral piece began to scratch against the needle more and more with each passing second.

"...How did you know to call me 'Frankie'?"

Half-lidded eyes opened up wide alongside the raise of his brow. As they took one step together to the left, she could hear a soft huff- a chuckle as his eyes rolled down and up in thought. "Now that sounds like a question with a deeper meaning than I can guess," he drawled with a low voice yet light humor.

And this felt like the time he should have asked her to elaborate, but as the top-hatted man let the topic go right there, Francine reluctantly found it her duty to put it back on its feet.

"That's..." Her words were weighed with something- undeniably the tint of things she dearly missed returning to haunt her. "...What my family called me back home," the young woman finished quietly, gaze dropping to their shoes in bittersweet reminiscence.

"...Oh."

The ginger man of magic found the woman besides him sighing as something not so long ago was starting to become all the more distant the more she realized this was not a brief stay but one for the long term; her residency in the studio would bar her from the comforts of home, and to be called her own name was both a gift that she was still herself and not like those of the ink and a reminder that nothing would ever be the same.

Joey hated the quiet of sadness. He'd had enough of it on his own. To see it infect the girl that had come so far to simply find some sort of peace...-