This was done between me and a buddy in an RP. She played the valient role of the hero, Mickey Mouse, and I of the insane, jealous Oswald. Enjoy.
Oswald leapt up onto his 'throne', swinging his legs back and forth, letting out a few giddy laughs. "M-I C- K-E-Y...M-O-U-S-E!~" He sang, grinning evilly at the mouse now standing, paintbrush in hand at the end of the room. "I've always hated that song." Oswald's grin faded into a snarl. "Why should you get a song anyhow? But...this isn't really about that, is it now, Mickey?" He asked, propping his head onto his fist.
Mickey couldn't bring himself to look Oswald in the eye, he held no contempt for him and was only concerned because he still saw Oswald as family, even if Oswald didn't exactly see it the same way. He shifted the Paintbrush from hand to hand. "I really don't see how I'm to blame in all of this, it's you who've chosen to hate me even though I never did anything to hurt you..." Oswald had a reason to be bitter though and Mickey knew it, being pushed into the background and forgotten. But none of this was his fault and if it was then he failed to see how...
Oswald lurched forward, both hands gripping the armrests of his chair as if he were squeezing the life out of that mouse. "NEVER DID ANYTHING? I couldn't have said it better myself, Mickey . You failed to do ANYTHING when you spilled ink into my world- that Phantom Blot along with it. You failed to do ANYTHING when I and the rest of the misfits that didn't belong in your 'perfect' little world had to come here in the first place. You failed to do ANYTHING when you cast me out of your life without so much as a hello once in a while- no. You were far too BUSY, weren't you? Busy being a hero." Oswald's eyes narrowed, ablaze and burning with a passionate rage. "And you know what? You'll fail to do anything to save your world from becoming an ink splattered mess, dearest brother. Because that's the role you've been reduced to play. THE FAILURE." Oswald threw his head back, laughing.
Mickey flinched, he had a sinking feeling that maybe this WAS his fault, he'd made Oswald hate him, the way he'd treated him and maybe everyone else in this world...And the ink blot as well, how could he have been so careless? So selfish? He started to shake a little but steadied himself and furrowed his brow. No, that wasn't the point, Oswald had taken this too far, he would make amends. "I won't fail..To save my world, I was wrong to be selfish but I'll put things right." He paused and finally met Oswald's eye. "You can be sure of it brother~".
Oswald regarded Mickey with a hard glare before sitting back against his seat. "It doesn't matter..." He looked off towards the walls, which were drooping with ink. "What you say...or what you do...because in the end, you're finished. You and your little friends." A devious smirk crossed his face as he glanced at him sideways. "As well as Minnie. ~ "
Mickey's new found confidence wavered. Minnie...Everyone, all his friends and the ones he cared the most about~ He shook his head firmly. "I'd never allow anything to happen to them, they're safe in my world, and not you nor anyone else can hurt them there!" His grip tightened on his paintbrush and he scowled at Oswald, that smirk irked him somehow.
"We'll see about that Mickey. I think the Phantom Blot thinks otherwise. In fact," Oswald placed a finger to his chin as if he were deep in thought over something he was trying to remember. "I think he's there ! " He let out a few chuckles, regarding Mickey with a goofy grin. "While you were distracted by all the mess here, what better chance for him to make havoc up on your surface world? You're so easy to manipulate, Mickey." He kicked his legs up, laughing. "It must be awful, knowing everything you love is about to be destroyed while you're down here!"
N-no!" Mickey fell to his knees, was it possible? Could it be that..."You're lying! It can't be true! I can't..." He couldn't believe it, he didn't want to believe it. Had he let them all down? Could he help them in time or would he be too late to save them? He thought of Minnie, Donald, Goofy...All of his good friends. A tear rolled down his cheek before he could stop it, he was useless, everything was his fault...Shakily he stood to his feet, still thinking frantically.
Oswald regarded him with an amused expression, raising a brow. "I'm offended Mickey. I never lie.~ Why lie when the truth is far more delicious? " He laid back against his armrest lazily, examining his fingers, which were now dripping with shiny threads of inklets. "Now there won't BE a surface world- it'll all be one land under a ruler deserving of it." His eyes drifted to Mickey, " Me. " He mouth upturned into a vicious grin, which now too was dripping with ink, all pooling together. "I don't need the Phantom Blot to snuff out your life, little mouse." His voice began to change, from a deep, soft tone to a more gravelling one, almost monstrous. "I'll end it, here and now- put you out of your misery!" He began to rise from his throne, dripping and pooling, his face becoming more and more distorted into a monster. "Be HAPPY, Mickey!" He cried, mouth grinning albeit incredibly disturbing now from the ink. "I'm going to give you a pity death!"
Mickey gritted his teeth and pointed his paintbrush at Oswald. "I'm not sure if I can help my friends, but I'll be no use to them dead and I certainly won't be taken down without a fight, there's still hope and you can't make me see otherwise!" He was steady now, no longer shaky, though he felt uneasy as he watched Oswald's form distort. "I'll never give up and you'll never destroy that world!".
Oswald's grin dropped into a massive snarl, the ink dripping down his mouth starting to look more and more like fangs. "YOU DISAPPOINT ME, MICKEY." He roared, rising full off his throne, starting to make his way to Mickey in a horrific mess of distortion. His legs and hands bubbled over the surface of the floor, taking the ink comprising that up as well. "My dreams are about to become your nightmares, Mickey. " He seethed, his ink monster form now towering far above the heroic mouse. "BE THE FUEL TO MY NIGHTMARE FORM!"
Mickey took a couple of steps backwards, gazing up at the monstrosity that towered above him. He gulped, gripping the paintbrush so tightly it nearly snapped in half. "How do you know that you won't lose brother? Don't be too sure of yourself..." What happened to you Oswald? He thought.
Oswald twisted his body into spirals, all of which were dripping onto the floor that was slowly pooling in its own inky demise. As he rounded towards his ceiling, looking at Mickey down below, "Because I've already lost." He replied, almost in the soft tone of his old voice, before giving off a demonic chuckle. "I've lost everything- now I can only win...by killing you."
Mickey shook his head and looked at Oswald pleadingly "No, that's not true! You don't have to do this...You could redeem yourself!" He flung his arms out in exasperation "I could help you and you could help me, wouldn't it be better that way?" Mickey gulped, maybe there was no way to avoid confrontation but he had to win and get away from this place so he could save everyone he cared about.
Oswald let out a laugh, "Help you? HELP you? HELP YOU? Help you- ah ha, HA HA HA! You cast me away, you cover us in ink, you drown us in pity and then ask ME to redeem MYSELF? You've done this! What I've become-" He held his hands out, inky threads hanging off his now monstrous form. "Is YOUR doing, brother. This nightmare is YOUR creation." He gave off a wide, horrifying grin. "But all dreams must come to an end." He lunged down towards Mickey, claws outstretched and fangs glistening as he let out a terrible roar. "AND SO MUST YOURS!"
"B-but I never did any of it on purpose! I never even knew about it until I was told and then suddenly it's all pinned on me!" He managed to leap out of harm's way but fell as he did so and hit the ground. "Destroying me won't help anything Oswald, you have to believe me!" He scrambled backwards, attempting to get to his feet, the brush still clutched in one hand.
Oswald seemed convinced that destroying Mickey would end all of his suffering- he'd finally be out of his brother's shadow. He'd finally MATTER. "WHY SHOULD I?" He yelled in a voice not his own. "My life has ceased to exist- killing you is my only chance..." He seemed utterly convinced and turned around, slithering to Mickey and swiping at his ankles. Oswald was in fact deluded- the countless years he had spent in isolation combined with the Phantom Blot whispering in his ear had caused him to go completely mad with blood lust.
Mickey cried out and quickly pulled his ankles back. "Because your life is still important no matter what you believe or what you're told...Because I'm your brother and I still care about you even though you may have forgotten that! You say I never bothered to even visit you, that's because I never knew how to come to this world, let alone how to find you in it! But you could come back, you don't have to stay here! Oswald..." Mickey was on the verge of giving up, he could see by Oswald's face that years of being cast aside and discarded had infuriated him to the point of insanity, Mickey couldn't help but feel a little responsible..He pushed himself to his feet, ready to fight if need be, if that was what it would take to make Oswald see sense.
Oswald seemed to have stopped, as if Mickey's words had resonated with him for just a moment. Go...back... How could he ever return? It'd been so...so long since he'd been exiled here- how could he ever show his face in the surface world...how could he...It hurt, his chest heaved as he continued to drip against the floor silently, his breath labored, eyes glowing a demonic red. "It wouldn't work, Mickey," He hissed out, quietly. "I cannot go back- not even if I wanted to. And besides- " He gave off a vicious grin. "It won't be there when the Blot is through. We'll live in inky demise forever..." Slowly, inky tendrils skittered across the floor and had wrapped themselves around Mickey's legs as he spoke, and all at once it gave a sharp tug and sent his feet flying from underneath him.
Mickey gasped, caught unaware. Upon hitting the ground he lost grip on his precious brush and it went clattering away across the room. Dazed and hurt, Mickey lay on his back, staring emptily at the ceiling, the feeling of hopelessness was beginning to overwhelm and crush him. He couldn't persuade Oswald, the brush was gone, out of reach. He looked at Oswald with wide eyes. "Please, listen, it wouldn't be the same as that world that you've missed all these years…Wouldn't it tear you apart to see it in such a state? What sort of world would that be to rule? You wouldn't truly...be happy…"
"What would you know ab-" He'd lost himself for a moment, and then terrible realization occurred once more. Mickey knew a LOT about happiness, in fact his whole life centered around it. He had friends- people to love him and for him to love. What was that like? He barely knew anymore, even though he'd been lucky enough to become a father. He stared down at his distorted reflection in the ink splatters on the floor. Hurt as he was, angry and filled with passionate rage, that reflection wasn't him. It was the Phantom Blot. In that reflection shimmered his entire life, as a failure. "Mickey, "He breathed. "Farewell.~" The inky tentacles rose higher and higher, wrapped around the mouse.
Mickey struggled desperately. "Oswald I'm not your enemy! Can't you see that? Things won't be any better if you destroy me.." He looked at the paintbrush that was now far below him, there was not even the slightest chance he could reach it, there was no glimmer of hope...Was this how his life would end? He pulled at the inky tendrils, trying to rip them away without much success.
During Oswald's final 'good-bye', one of his sons had snuck into the throne room, padding softly on the slippery floor. He approached the brush cautiously while his father was busy with Mickey. He picked it up, ears flopping over one of his shiny eyes as he looked up to his uncle, dangling from the ink tentacles. "UNCA' MICKEY! CATCH!" He cried up to him, using his small arms to whip the brush at him with all his might. Oswald turned, snarling, "YOU GO AGAINST YOUR FATHER, WALLY?" Wally quickly backed away, whimpering. He loved his father, even after he'd become so angry- but he knew it wasn't just his father, it was the Phantom Blot controlling him.
Mickey's arm shot out and grabbed the brush, he used all his strength to ram it into the inky tentacles that held him. He pulled away from Oswald's grip and dropped to the ground, landing with a dull thud. "You can stop this now brother! Control yourself! You can see that you're not the one in control here can't you?" He swiped at Oswald with the brush, attempting to drive him back.
Oswald let out a roar, jerking backwards to keep his ink form away from the paint thinner at the end of Mickey's brush. "YOU'RE the one not in control, i Mickey./i YOU'RE the one who'll be obliterated!"
"Nobody's getting obliterated, you just need to see sense!" He ran forwards and jabbed the brush at Oswald's torso, pushing him further back. He didn't want Oswald seriously hurt, he just wanted him to come out of this insanity that seemed to have clouded his view, and force seemed to be the only way to do that now that resonating with him had failed..Mickey advanced towards Oswald, holding the brush out in front of him.
Oswald continued to shrink back- that paintbrush had done a lot of damage thus far, able to erase and draw anything Mickey desired. He may've hit a block but he wasn't about to give up by any means. "Hey Mickey-" A sick, twisted grin appeared on his jagged, dripping face. " You look exhausted. How about a swim?~" And all at once the center of the floor caved in, melting in gooey paint much like the effect of a sinkhole.
