#(oii) original universe: inferno

[runelocked]

FROM HERE. WILLIAM / SPRINGTRAP / @slaughterlocked & EMILIE / BALLORA / @mechanicaldance - CONTINUED:

" I... " IT CHOKES ON THE WORDS, BREATH HARSH. In his mind's eye, he remembers the same jerky movements leading to his death - despite that, he cannot help but lean into her touch, a man dying of dehydration in a boundless desert until that moment. Emilie, as always, provides comfort he cannot put into words. But also grief, and anger, and a sick sense of unease: that his work to save her had been so interrupted.

But she's here. It tells itself that this is enough for now. In the depths of Circus Baby's Pizza, William & Emilie Afton are together again: until he can make them whole, this will suffice. " Yes, " he says, earnest, though isn't certain he knows exactly what love is anymore, " though perhaps - " A rattling laugh drags itself from the remnants of its lungs. " We should have changed our wedding vows. Even death didn't manage to do us apart, after all. "

[runelocked]

" YO - O - OU. " If the rabbit had been in even slightly better condition, it would have exploded in rage. As it was, something fizzles and sparks at his shoulder, and the most he can manage is a slam of one fist against the wall. Who let this imbecile watch over an establishment from his business ? Who had made that decision ? Because he'd kill them too, like it had killed the bastards that had found him and moved him so carelessly.

A groan escapes what's left of its throat, and the creature once known as William Afton drags itself forwards, one ear twitching relentlessly to add to his irritation. " I wou - oul - ld le - t you lo - ooo - k. CO - ME CLOSER. " Oh yes, it would let Harper look - and rip him apart too, once he'd gotten close enough. Though his lips are forced apart in a permanent grin thanks to wire and springlocks, the rabbit's grating, growling voice is more gleeful when it says: " I do n - n - not bite. "

@slaughterlocked asked: ❝ "You're an idiot." [to harper JKBFSJDF springtrap is SICK of not being known for the creepy ass rabbit he truly is !!!! ] ❞ ( angry / irritated sentences )

"C'mon man, what's got your wires in a bunch?" Sure, the thing was creepy-looking and its programming shouldn't have allowed for something so rude, but it was just a robot. If anything, Harper found him more interesting than scary, regardless of appearance or stench. He was like a living, moving relic of times passed.

There wasn't a nervous bone in Harper's body, fully relaxed into his desk chair and partially spinning it back and forth with the toe of one shoe. "I'm actually pretty smart." He twirled the stylus between his fingers, tablet held in the other hand. "I've got some coding expertise. I bet I could have you back in perfect working order if you'd just let me take a look." Well, perfect working order internally. The suit was beyond any help.

[runelocked]

CASSIDY.  HE  REMEMBERS.  CASSIDY  CASSIDY  CASSIDY  AND  the  name  coats  what’s  left  of  his  tongue  with  bitter  anger  and  residual  fear  that  has  been  by  his  side  since  the  moment  he’d  stepped  into  this  damn  room  so  long  ago.  Fear,  anger:  how  pathetic,  he  thinks,  that  a  child  could  draw  such  strong  emotion  from  him  –  and  then  she  asks  her  silly  little  questions,  and  she  sounds  so  stupid  and  naive  that  it  makes  him  laugh.

“ Cassidy, ”  he  drags  out  the  name,  lets  it  sit  between  them  as  a  warning  and  promise  and  threat  rolled  into  one,  “ this  isn’t  a  game.  There  is  no  winning.  There  is  no  losing. ” And  if  it  HAD  been  a  game,  does  she  really  think  he  has  lost ?  Does  she  think  any  of  them  are  anything  other  than  winners ?  They  have  survived  death.  They  have  done  the  unthinkable.  “ There  is  only  a  purpose,  and  an  end  goal,  and  the  means  to  get  there. ”

If  he  ignores  how  exhausted  he  is  –  how  much  he  wants,  beyond  anything  else,  to  fall  asleep  and  wake  up  well - rested  in  a  proper  house  in  a  proper  body  –  and  if  he  ignores  how  much  little  control  the  suit  is  giving  him,  then  his  voice  is  almost  scornful.  Certainly  superior:  oh,  she  can’t  see,  he  thinks,  as  the  suit  spasms  with  his  attempts  to  stand,  she  has  no  idea  there  is  a  bigger  picture  beyond  her  suffering.

“ I’m  not  a  monster,  you  know. ”  Why  bother  to  explain  himself  to  a  child  who  cannot  possibly  understand?  Call  him  impatient:  better  yet,  call  him  addled,  to  hope  she  might  get  his  reasoning.  “ Everything  I’ve  done  has  been  for –   if  not  the  greater  good,  then  for  something.  Even  THIS  isn’t  the  end.  My  work… ”

Is  too  important.  Is  all  that’s  left.  Cannot  be  left  incomplete.  Will  keep  me,  you,  all  of  us,  alive  until  the  bitter  end. “ It  isn’t  over, ”  he  finishes,  and  finally,  finally,  staggers  to  his  its?  feet, a newborn taking first steps.  “ Not  yet.  Perhaps  not  ever. ”

@musesofthemoon -> CONTINUED.

[runelocked]

there's nothing left to save now .

NOTHING  LEFT  TO  SAVE:  all  around  them,  the  fire  burns  bright,  hotter  than  hell,  and  William  is  afraid.  Cannot  hide  this  like  he  might  have  once  been  able  to  –  thirty  years  rotting  has  turned  him  a  little  less  than  human,  and  so  the  terror  at  realizing  that  THIS  MIGHT  BE  IT  is  visible  in  the  whites  of  what’s  left  of  his  eyes,  and  the  churning,  creaking  rattle  of  his  chest  as  he  breathes.  Perhaps  Michael  has  outplayed  him.  Perhaps  he  cannot  save  any  of  it:  his  work,  his  family  (he  will  put  them  back  together,  repeat  it,  boy,  they  are  not  gone)  –  perhaps  he  cannot  even  save  himself,  slither  away  like  a  rat  in  a  disaster.  But  it  is  not  over.  With  inhuman  strength,  the  creature  once  called  William  staggers  for  his  son,  arms  outstretched,  each  movement  inflicting  crushing  pain. Tosses his boy to the ground.  If  he  is  going  down,  he  will  take  one  last  with  him:  the  prodigal  son.  The  very  first  curse  on  his  family.  “ You  d  o     n  o t    know  what  y o    u    have     d o n e, “  it  rasps,  roars,  rages:  its  voice  is  so  far  from  his,  and  yet  so  similar  in  its  anger.  “ This  will   n  o   t     st o p     me. ”

[runelocked]

❝ so…was this all that you hoped for? ❞ ( from mike / @ladyseidr )

A RATTLING BREATH, AND THEN ANOTHER. People underestimated the difficulty existing in these costumes - now attached to one, body and soul held together only by the very springlocks that had destroyed him, the man in the rabbit costume knows firsthand how hard even the simplest of movements can be. Especially now. The suit isn't exactly well - maintained, after all.

' NO ' is the answer his only surviving child is looking for. It's the sane answer: no, this is nothing like what I planned. I regret it all. I feel guilt. Remorse. A wish to go back and change everything. But William Afton - if that was still his name - has not been sane in quite some time. So one mechanical breath turns into a laugh, harsh, more emotive than he had ever been as a father: if Mike expects regret, then he won't be pleased by his father's reply.

" It is beyond my wildest dreams, " the creature tells him, sincerity mingling unpleasantly with the rank, rotting tone of delight and agony and despair and pride, " I don't expect you to understand. But oh, the things I've done. The things I am still doing. I have cheated death, Michael. Thwarted oblivion itself, alone. This - " And he gestures woodenly to his own broken, beaten body, barely clinging to life, dead eyes flaring with yellow light despite the constant agony, " is my greatest achievement. And there is still so much work to do. "

[runelocked]

HE DOES NOT THINK HE WILL EVER GET USED TO THIS. The snapping teeth, the flashing claws. The howls and the shrieks and the lights and the cameras and the clock that never moves quick enough. William is reset — physically — after each failure, but his most recent deaths are visible in his twitching limbs and darting eyes and the cold sweat on his forehead. To say of his posture — hunched, small, like it never had been in real life. At least not for a long time.

But despite it all, the unending torture and agony and terror, the repeating death and pain that follows him as he tries and fails to outsmart each of his victims, there is an unsettling smile on his face, because he knows this is . . . if not victory, then the closest thing to it in this godforsaken place. The child in front of him is cruel — he had underestimated her — but he had also overestimated her, vastly.

“ You are nothing here either, ” he tells her, voice ragged, as if his muscles remember being torn apart by the claws of a gaping - mouthed fox only moments before, “ no matter what you think. I almost feel sorry for you — ”

His laugh, tremulous, but genuine, is the most unnerving thing he’s said in a long, long time.

“ I’m still the monster under your bed, aren’t I, Cassidy? The one you feel you need to prove isn’t so scary any more. And yet you still can’t let me go. Can’t turn your back for fear I’ll be there, waiting. ” A grin splits his cracked lips: maybe antagonising her isn’t his greatest plan, but it beats cowering in his chair. Anything to stop her resetting the cycle. “ After everything, you’re still just the same frightened child you’ve always been, trying to face off against the big bad rabbit. ”

LABYRINTH STARTERS (MY BELOVED…) || ALWAYS ACCEPTING! || @slaughterlocked

slaughterlocked asked: "YOU HAVE NO POWER OVER ME." [to cassidy!!!]

❝ You're wrong. ❞

[There was a sinister, yet giddy tone to her voice; if William thought she had no power here, then clearly, she needed to amp up the torment. This was HER domain. She had influence over everything within; there was no escape for EITHER of them. It had to be that way if she wanted to erase William and his influence from the outside world.]

❝ I will never let you leave. I will never let you rest. I'm going to make you suffer the way I did, forever. ❞

[A wicked grin spread across her features; her hand rose, ready to "snap" and send another flurry of animatronics after him. She'd been going too easy on him -- maybe sending everyone after him at full power would teach him a lesson. She was eager to witness the gruesome results of her vengeance. She thrived on the thought that she might hear him scream, plead, beg for his life...just as she had, all those years ago.]

[runelocked]

❝ You should be used to that by now. ❞

There is a screeching in his mind, and then a howl of flames, and then his voice. The creature is barely functional enough to register the speaker — neither of them are who or what they used to be, after all — but there are only two people who would be able to address him at all.

One of them left a message, prerecorded, before the flames had crept up his legs and burned burned burned too hot to handle. He does not know where that man is. Isn’t so certain he cares anymore.

Then that leaves the second. The prodigal son.

“You–” A violent crackle, voice rattling as smoke clogs up undead lungs and machinery. It does not help to stumble towards Michael, the heat almost too much, the pain (YOU SHOULD BE USED TO THAT BY NOW; LIKE FATHER LIKE SON, BOY, YOU CANNOT ESCAPE THAT) inhibiting him with a clumsiness he does not normally possess. “You dare—”

Weakened wood from the flaming roof above collapses beside him. The whole suit twitches.

“You cannot win,” it (he) (they?) rasps. “You will burn with me.”

[runelocked]

"you know what i'm dealing with. you have all the answers." Charlie squinting at William.

It is so difficult to speak. So, so difficult to move at all. But the rabbit does its best: the LAUGH he lets out rattles discordantly in its chest, wheezy, spluttering. If I know, then why am I trapped like this ?

" I have all the answers .... " It repeats, mocking, in a voice William would once have used so often to tease her father, or her brother, or her younger self. The sound turns ice cold and rancid when he next speaks, the rabbit suit shifting and grating to pull itself into an upright position on the floor. " And why should I tell you any of them ? "

[runelocked]

” i hate being alone. “

" I know how you feel."

The rabbit's voice was gravelly, like the effort it took to translate its words across the network was vast. It washed over the room, making static flick and jump across the screens, and the semi - translucent form of the creature began to take on a slightly softer outline: almost gentle. At least, it would be: if it hadn't sounded so sinister, so beguilingly comforting.

" There is nothing wrong with wanting to be safe. To be loved. To be surrounded by friends. There are ways... that can make sure they never leave. Not ever again. "

It does not say: I can teach you. Let me show you the way.

[runelocked]

The rabbit pauses again, head silent, for the first time in as long as his glitching, cracking mind can go back. The dancer in front of him is calming, a craving; his hands hurt, as they always do, but he doesn’t mind, not when she’s holding them.

“ You know I do. ” How can he not? Hadn’t he done this for her? Her, and the boys, and little Elizabeth? All of this had been for them. (If he lies to himself about his own selfish intentions.) I would destroy myself for you. I have.

But he has his own questions, and he is not brave enough to ask most of them. William has always been a bit of a coward. One comes to his lips anyway, suit still whirring, like it’s his heart racing—

“ How can you bear to look at me? ”

All she’s wanted was to be loved. She’s found it by chance by meeting William. And after her death, or their deaths.. it’s been lonely. Too lonely. And she desperately craves any and all attention and love she can still get from her husband.

“I still would let you,” Ballora voiced quietly, her accent thick. There’s a pause, her eyes opened with a soft violet glow. She leaned forward to grasp both of his hands within hers, securely.

“Do you still love me?”

@slaughterlocked

[runelocked]

“How did you find me?”

“ Wherever Michael goes, I can follow. ” A rasping breath, there, at the mention of his son’s name. And Gregory reminds him so much of his prodigal son — in some ways, he’s better. Michael is the prototype: Gregory is the chance to start anew. A second take of the same scene. The glitching rabbit doesn’t approach closer, illuminated in sickly purple that imprints on every screen around them, but he seems to be nearer to the boy than before; despite not physically moving. “ He cannot keep you hidden. Not from me. ”

[runelocked]

WHAT HAS SHE BECOME? NOTHING BUT HIS MOST TRUSTED, OF COURSE. A tenuous position: he hates her for being so valuable, craves her for the same; loathes and laughs at and loves her naïveté. Does she even realise she’s being used, that he is responsible for her every change? Never mind her, little rabbit: can the same be said for you?

“ I see you. ” His little glitch in the system, his lucky happenstance: “ I see us. Together. ” It doesn’t hurt to encourage delusion: he likes the words that drip from him, saccharine and silky. “ And you see the same. It’s what makes you chosen. ” Singles her out, marks her as different: of course, it helps now that she’s so willing to follow . . .

@slaughterlocked / asked for a lyric starter

"ɪ ɴᴇᴇᴅ ʏᴏᴜ ᴛᴏ sᴇᴇ ᴍᴇ ғᴏʀ ᴡʜᴀᴛ ɪ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ʙᴇᴄᴏᴍᴇ. so grow back your sharpest teeth, you know my desire."

[runelocked]

KILL ME LIKE A FUCKING MAN; TAKE OFF THE MASK. Oh, would that he could. She’s a tad too late for that; the mask, the suit, the persona is as him as his own decaying body. So the mask stays on: that broken, battered rabbit face grinning down at her, stuck in a perpetual image of cartoonish delight, though he doubts it’s exactly a child - friendly sight after all this time.

He’s giddy — has interacted with so few souls in thirty fucking years of isolation and murder. Three decades. It’s enough to drive even the most sane of men into madness, and William - is that still his name? It’s not entirely sure - had not exactly held that title to begin with. And so he advances, dragging that clumsy clunking body alongside him: it’s been a pain in the ass to get the suit to cooperate, but he’s nothing if not patient. Nothing if not blindly, viciously, dangerously determined. I always come back rings like a prayer through what’s left of his mind.

“ I’m afraid that’s not possible. ” He’s not had much need to speak in the decades of being locked up: doing so now is an arduous chore, but makes him laugh, delighted at the sound of his own voice. It rattles out of the voice box lodged in his throat, seeps towards the woman in front of him who he is eager to make his next victim. “ Though a word of advice, dear — that knife won’t do you much good. Not anymore.”

But he does, stop. Air dances over his suit, his body, thick and heavy with anticipation, a gathering thundering audience watching the scene play out with bated breath.

“I thought we might get to know each other.” The words are grating, ghoulish: the rabbit’s head tilts impossibly far, that same rotten smile on its face. “After all, you know so much about me, and I only have your name, Ms. Sheppard.”

“Move and you die.” [from this meme!!!]

dire situation starters | always accepting ! | from @slaughterlocked | “Move and you die.”

the voice comes to her from behind, from halfway back in the hall, and she does just what he wants. she stops moving, takes a small breath in, surprise freezing her, anger lighting her entire body on fire. he caught her off-guard, has full view of her rain-damp back and the small smokey wisps of hair sticking to the back of her neck, the most vulnerable position he could have caught her, even if she did have a weapon on her. she is NOT afraid. not entirely. not enough to make her shake, or drop the knife, or start crying. the fear is indistinguishable from her anger. that feels like all she has in her. rage, thumping in her temples, white-hot, spilling into her. she shakes a little to keep it from tearing out of her. " if you think i'm afraid of you, you're wrong. " it's venomous. so, so strong, despite. " i'm not one of those kids. "

it is the anger that makes her truly defy him. she stands straight and tall, tilts her chin up, takes a deep breath in, and turns. slowly, until she and him are facing one another. she will not give him the satisfaction of an easy fight. " if you're going to kill me, you're going to kill me like a FUCKING MAN. " an insult and a threat. her grip goes white-knuckle on the knife. " take off your mask and FACE ME. " she raises it. her voice goes with it. " face what you've done. " to her, to a classroom's worth of children, to their parents, to history itself. marred and bloody, seething with darkness and sin. no more running. no more hiding. this is where the story ends.

[runelocked]

His only regret is that he couldn’t rewind time and draw her death out more. Through wheezing breaths that he still can’t draw naturally, William thinks to himself that he’d been too kind to her, too forgiving. He should have made her hurt more while he’d had the fucking chance.

It takes him an age to get the rabbit suit to cooperate with him — it seems ten years isn’t enough even for him to gain full control over his own designs — but when he does move, it’s jerky, violent. Her laughs only infuriate him more, because whether he wants to admit it or not: she’s right. What can he even do now? What power does he have now over his victims, who are already dead and suffering?

…What even was this girl’s name again?

(Memories got so fuzzy after so long.)

“You…” (An agonising effort to speak, though he’s a quick learner: the metals and wires stuck in his throat whir, and William leaps at the rare opportunity to speak without them glitching or faulting.) “Can’t possibly understand any of this. You have no idea what I’ve done. What I’m going to do.

And when I get out,” he continues, in a blind delusional faith that falters every year that passes in this God-forsaken place, “You will be the first one I continue my work on. The first one—”

A rattling, rattling laugh erupts from deep in his chest. The room feels so small.

“You’ll experience things that make this seem like paradise. Don’t think my setback has saved you.”

@slaughterlocked threatened: “When I get out of here, you’ll wish you’d never been born.” [+ CASSIDY !!]

Wish she'd never been born, huh?

The sentiment is enough to make the girl laugh on it's own. She'd wish she was never born, huh? What, was making her bleed out on that linoleum floor not enough? Was sticking around past death not enough to mock her already? No no, there were many times that she'd wished that she was never born. But now, she could only laugh at how he'd fallen for a trap of his own design. No one had made him jump into the suit, after all...

"Oh, you really think so, huh?" She states, finally able to stop herself from giggling long enough to give a true response. "There's so much you did that made me wish for that... At least at first, but now? What could you even do to me now, kill me?" The rhetorical gives her another bout of laughter.

But then, she grows more serious. Not out of fear, but instead to finally give her true opinion on all of this. "And there's nothing to worry about, is there? I mean, there's no way you're getting out of there..."

[runelocked]

IT'S NOT SOMETHING HE'S EVER CONSIDERED BEFORE. Not even after her death, when he had worked frantically without break to ensure her postmortem existence was as coherent and painless as possible. It had drafted even further from his mind as he'd lost himself in his experiments and murders, and the idea now rings through him with something like painfully soft nostalgia.

But he's not so far gone or selfish to accept without confession. While her touch soothes him - keeps those memories of life before fresh and frozen in his mind - it is only a matter of time before the lucidity fades. He's a shade of his former self; if even that; and Emilie...

"You would not recognize me after a while," he says, at last, but does not push her away - even monsters deserve comfort, right? "I am not who... I am not what you know." You would be scared of me. Worse: you would hate me. "I am incapable of saying no to you. But I am also incapable of retaining my humanity for any length of time." I am afraid. I am so afraid of hurting you. "...At least for now."

Perhaps... When he is able to find success, find a breakthrough in remnant... His eyes glimmer; flicker, for the briefest moments, a harsh yellow again.

FROM HERE. WILLIAM / SPRINGTRAP / @slaughterlocked & EMILIE / BALLORA / @mechanicaldance - CONTINUED:

" I... " IT CHOKES ON THE WORDS, BREATH HARSH. In his mind's eye, he remembers the same jerky movements leading to his death - despite that, he cannot help but lean into her touch, a man dying of dehydration in a boundless desert until that moment. Emilie, as always, provides comfort he cannot put into words. But also grief, and anger, and a sick sense of unease: that his work to save her had been so interrupted.

But she's here. It tells itself that this is enough for now. In the depths of Circus Baby's Pizza, William & Emilie Afton are together again: until he can make them whole, this will suffice. " Yes, " he says, earnest, though isn't certain he knows exactly what love is anymore, " though perhaps - " A rattling laugh drags itself from the remnants of its lungs. " We should have changed our wedding vows. Even death didn't manage to do us apart, after all. "