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the-solar-system52 · 4 months

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INK DEMON AND BENDY THEORY

So Bendy's official Instagram account just posted something very interesting, and I want to theorise about it!

For awhile the social media account for Bendy have been doing these posts where Bendy takes a photo of a location from BATDR and steals an item from that location, and people have to guess what he took. I thought it was just an unimportant game to give the social media managers something to do, like Steelwool's 'Guess The Sketch', but now it's actually important.

The picture shows that Bendy built all his stolen items in the shape of his Ink Demon form, with an interesting caption. Some fans have took this post to mean that Ink Demon ordered small Bendy to make a statue of him, but I don't think that's true.

I'm a big fan of the "Bendy is the Ink Demon with the mind of a child, and they are NOT seperate people" theory, and I don't think this post disproves that.

So if you know my past TPOH and FNAF theories, then you know its time for another round of:

SOLAR NEEDLESSLY OVERANALYZING THE GRAMATICAL STRUCTURE OF SENTENCES TO MAKE A THEORY EVEN THOUGH MOST PEOPLE DON'T PAY THAT MUCH ATTENTION TO HOW THEY PHRASE THINGS

Lets dissect this single sentence like a frog!!

"His inner Ink Demon is always on his mind-"

If Joey Drew Studios had phrased this as "IN his mind", then I see how this would be more literal. Meaning that the Ink Demon is a separate entity to Bendy and is literally living IN his mind.

But they didn't, they said "ON his mind". This phrase is usually used more metaphorically. If I'm hungry, I can say that dinner is 'on my mind', but that doesn't mean my dinner is actuallly INSIDE my brain. All this means is that Bendy has been thinking about his memories of his Ink Demon form, and therefore made a statue of him when he looked like that. Possibly to try and communicate his complicated feelings through art, or maybe he collected those specific items almost subconsciously.

Second of all, if the Ink Demon really was ordering Bendy around from inside his mind to make that statue for him, then I don't think it looks right. In BATIM, there are multiple shrines made by followers of the Ink Demon like Sammy, that look more demonic. As you can see, Bendy's statue doesn't look anything like that. Not a candle or pentagram in site! I feel like if this was made by the request of the Ink Demon, it would look way more like the ones from BATIM. But it doesn't! Instead, I think it looks more like it was made by Bendy on his own accord, like a children's drawing.

"His inner Ink Demon-"

Again, Joey Drew Studios decided to take the less-literal more-metaphorical route of this phrasing. If they just said "THE ink demon" then it would imply the Ink Demon as his own separate entity. But saying "inner" when referring to a buried memory of someone's past is not uncommon to do for regular use as well. For example, if I draw cats a certain way then I can say it's my "inner warrior cats fan" coming out. That doesn't mean there's actually a warrior cats fan inside my brain ordering me around, it's symbolic.

"on his mind, searching for an exit."

This also doesn't disprove my theory. The Keepers technology is preventing him from turning into his Ink Demom form. This means he can't use his powers and is weaker and smaller. It's clear he at least vaguely remembers what the Keepers did to him because of how scared he is of the GENT building.

Since he is in an incredibly hostile environment, it's no surprise he'd be thinking of a time where he wasn't as vulnerable. And he would also be trying to find a way to be strong again, in his own child-like way. Which explains the statue.

Personally, I find this all way more interesting then "rrr ink demon scary rrr", but to each their own.

I have more evidence for my "Bendy is the Ink Demon with the mind of a child, and they are NOT seperate people" theory outside of this instagram description, but I've already written enough for this post. I may make another post about it but we'll see. Please comment if you have anything else to add ^^

#I really need to get a hobby #I just wrote an entire tumblr post analysing ONE SENTENCE about my hyperfixation #batim #batim bendy #bendy #bendy and the dark revival #bendy and the ink machine #batdr #batdr bendy #the ink demon #batim theory #batdr theory #batdr the ink demon

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fnaffancontentbutmostlyglamrocks · 5 months

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I'm about ready to just boycott Steelwool games from now on because of Monty not being in Help Wanted 2.

Before you @me saying I'm be over dramatic. It's just been so annoying how Monty is treated in the games.

Security Breach: He takes the most dammage of all the Glamrocks, despite the fact no worse than any of them. Hell Roxy deserved her shattering the most for how cruel she could be.

Ruin: Roxy gets a full on redemption/ second chance because she’s Cassie's favorite. That's it. There is nothing indicating she’s shown remorse for wanting to kill Gregory.

The player can show kindness to Chica and repair her voice box. For absolutely no reason, too.

Sun/Eclipse gets a form of closure

Monty gets electrocuted and fucking dies.

Then in HW2 he doesn't appear at all, and it wouldn't be as noticeable if it weren't for the fact that he is the ONLY animatronic too not appear.

I don't get why. Does Steelwool hate him or something? Did they look at Glamrock Bonnie fans saying they hate Monty for killing Bonnie, and this is there "apology"

On the topic of him killing Bonnie. I'm more annoyed that it is being used as justification to get rid of him. That he’s "pure evil" and so doesn’t deserve to appear.

By that logic, Scrap Baby shouldn't be in HW2 cause she's homicidal, and there's nothing to indicate she's under mind control.

Even then, why not play that up? Make Monty evil, outside of Glitchtrap. A purely malicious animatronic.

I do like the idea that even when the Glamrocks were "safe" and couldn't harm guests. Monty found a loophole. He can't harm guests, but nothing in his programming can stop him from harming an animatronic.

Why can't they make him a villian then?

Why couldn't we have a game where you have to repair staff bots that Monty has broken, keeping an eye on the doors (and in the hard mode an ear out for the vent) while Monty stalks around Gator Golf. Then the game ends when, instead of a staff bot, it's Bonnie's body brought to you. Then, in replaying, a sharp eyed player could see the moment Monty attacked Bonnie.

Or, make him as "friendly" as the others. Give him a minigame where you help him sign autographs, and you need to be a bouncer for obnoxious fans (played by staff bots). If you don't keep them away enough or fail to give him photos to sign in time, he gets angry, and you have to calm him down.

What's most upsetting about Monty not being in Help Wanted 2 is that this was a chance to give him a good final send-off.

Now fans of Monty have to hope he appears in an Update or DLC. For the latter, it is shitty that we have to potentially pay more just to see him.

Monty deserves better, not as a "person" in the universe, that it's still up to debate. Just as a character in Security Breach.

This has just snapped the twig

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achillean-knight · 5 months

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I'm sorry I am in Help Wanted 2 brainrot hell right now LMAO

But I want to ramble my thoughts about the game. First thoughts I should say, just incase they change months from now.

Spoilers, HEAVY spoilers under the cut

Off the bat, I loved it. I sat down and watched the YouTuber Rhytoast's 2 streams that accumulated to like, 9 hours and it was a blast.

I'm hesitant with the newer games, I've stated so SO many times before that I came back to FNAF after a 5 years break, so I missed everything between UCN and Security Breach. The story of Security Breach I didn't really pay attention to and the story direction the first VR game took made me-

I'm not sure.

Yearning for the past, for the old stories from when I first got into FNAF.

As I said before, I've mentioned a ton about my history with FNAF, watching the first games trailer when it releases, but not getting into the series until around FNAF 3 - 4 Halloween Edition, so I have an incredible attachment to the story of the original games.

That's why I felt disconnected from the games after UCN.

Until Help Wanted 2.

It came out of nowhere, piquing my intrigue again and getting the missing children's incident woven back in. All the hype around Springtrap was completely absent from this game and I think it needed it.

Vanny crushing Glitchtrap with her hand and the game where you shot Springtrap to pieces was all we needed. It felt right to get rid of him. He deserved to move on.

I think that's the strongest element for me. One thing I criticized coming back to the franchise was the fact Springtrap or just William Afton kept going bugged me the hell out.

But the minimal usage of him and Vanny as the spotlight with the Puppet/Charlie being greatly highlighted within ruin and help wanted 2 gives me SOOOO MUCH FUCKIN HOPE

I love this series and it took alot of time off for me to feel the connection again.

Now I see hope, soooo much hope that Steelwool can pull off future installments with Ruin and Help Wanted 2 being so great.

Just small little thoughts bouncing in my brain GWEH

I get VERY rambly with obsessions MY BAD

#random thought...#five nights at freddy's #help wanted 2

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slash-em-up · 4 years

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August, 1987 pt. 1

Betcha thought I forgot about this series huh?? Well, jokes on you, I never forget a baby!!! It’s been a solid minute since I wrote for Bo and Vincent, I missed them!!!

——————————————————————

Twins are 18/Lester is 13

The shelter kitchen steamed like a boiler room.

August in Louisiana was a muggy, merciless affair – especially for those less fortunate souls without air conditioning, or a few spare dollars to hide away in a theater for a couple hours.

One constant, no matter what the weather, was that people needed to eat; as was evidenced by the seemingly never-ending stream of dirty bowls and utensils that flooded the back room of the grungy church basement.

The yellowed, dusty lights of the aging kitchen flooded down on the tall young man standing sentinel at the sink, alone but for a veritable mountain of waste left by the lunch rush, and the staticky murmur of music playing from an old AM/FM radio in the corner.

Vincent raised the back of his wet, soapy arm to his forehead, pushing a strand of charcoal hair out of his eye.

He’d been emancipated from St. Agathas a month ago, right after his 18th birthday, and without the watchful care of the sisters he’d begun to let his hair grow back – it now flopped in short, loose waves, exacerbated by the humidity.

The church had provided a part-time job at their homeless shelter for Vincent, and a bed in their group hall at night. State law wouldn’t allow them to simply ‘toss him out on his ass’ as a disgruntled parson had said when explaining the situation to the young man – thus, he worked, he ate, and he slept – at least for now. Any support for emancipated adults ended just a few short months after they left whichever system they’d ended up in… and Vincent knew his time was running out.

A particularly stubborn spot of dried food was an excellent outlet for his frustration, and his fingers quickly became raw and red as the steelwool he used scrubbed against his skin as much as the bowl.

His knuckles split under the pressure and harsh chemical cleaners, and with a hiss he withdrew from the sink; stepping out the back exit to take a deep breath of air – the nearby bayou waters making the outdoor air nearly as stifling as the indoors.

The blood from his knuckle dripped slowly onto the stained apron he wore, and Vincent silently huffed, swearing a blue-streak internally. He knew he’d catch hell from the kitchen matron for that. For whatever reason that particular nun had been after him since day one.

Holding his injured hand away, he patiently worked to undo the knot tying the apron to his waist. Once free, he lifted it over his head, feeling the slight breeze pull the sweaty tee-shirt he wore (another ‘gift’ from the churches donation pile) away from the places it stuck to his skin.

He was exhausted.

Slowly sinking back and lowering himself to the ground, he ran a hand through his hair. Ingrained habit told him to try and pull it over the gaping scar that covered one side of his face; but he knew it was nowhere near long enough for that yet.

Pulling his knees in to his chest, Vincent lay his head against his arms and closed his eye.

——————————————————————

He couldn’t recall dozing off, but the next thing he knew he was being rapped harshly on the shoulder with what felt like a stick.

Nope, he stood corrected, it was a wooden spoon.

The kitchen matron loomed over him with glaring distaste in her eyes.

“Be sure you confess to your sin of slothful behavior at mass this Sunday, Mr. Sinclair.”

Fuck.

“… yes, ma’am.”

“And where is your apron?”

Double-fuck.

Vincent’s head whipped left and right on a swivel, looking for the white-ish cloth he must have dropped before his impromptu nap.

It was nowhere to be found. He offered the nun a defeated half-shrug.

The sisters lips pursed.

“I’ll tell Father Mathew to take that loss out of your pay, then. Maybe next time you won’t be so careless with Gods gifts.”

Vincent cringed.

He’d been pinching pennies and saving his small paychecks like a miser, knowing the work and therefore the money was very much temporary. Losing what a quick calculation told him would amount to half-a-days pay was not helpful in the slightest.

“Sister, I…”

The steel basement door squeaked as it opened, letting one of the younger nuns poke her head out.

“Sister Teresa, there’s a man here to see Vincent.”

The matron and Vincent must have been offering the apostate identical looks of befuddlement because the young girl quickly elaborated.

“He says he’s your brother?”

Vincent felt himself pale, single eye going wide.

“Bo?”

The young man was on his feet and speeding past the women in less than a heartbeat.

Thoughts flew through Vincent’s head at a mile a minute.

Was it Bo? Lester?

What were they doing here?

Did they need help?

Were they here to help him?

His steps slowed as he neared the main entrance.

… Would they remember him? Or would he just be a deformed freak to them? Some unfortunate who happened to share the same last name…

He gingerly poked his head out of the kitchen door.

Bo was easy to pick out in the small dinner crowd. He stood at least a half-head above most of the patrons and flashed that same mischievous smirk he’d had as a boy towards the women, and even some of the nuns, who wandered the room.

The knife-edge sharpness hiding right behind the grin was new.

His short curls had taken on a slightly more burnished tone than Vincent’s own; and he had the look of a man who worked in the sun, all tan skin and toned muscles – the look of a man confident in himself and what he was capable of.

It had been more years than Vincent cared to count since he’d felt the stirrings of jealously towards his twin; but there are some wounds that fester instead of heal.

Apparently this was one of them.

Identical ice blue eyes met across the room and suddenly all the years melted away. Vincent could remember with unerring clarity the last time he’d seen his twins eyes. They’d been frightened, and angry, and hopeless. They weren’t frightened anymore, nor were they hopeless; but anger simmered deep, deep in them – hidden well unless you knew what to look for.

His feet carried him forward until he stood eye-to-eye with Bo.

His twin slowly smiled.

“It’s time to go home, Vincent.”

#bo sinclair #vincent sinclair #house of wax (2005)#house of wax #slasher fiction #jessica writes #horror movies

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chocolateheal · 5 years

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