#(oii) universe: eternal

[runelocked]

it's going to be a long night. / vanny

“ OPTIMIST. ” THE MAN SAYS DRYLY: DOESN’T BOTHER WITH HIS USUAL ACCENT CHANGE WHEN IT’S JUST HER. She knows the truth about him, she’s the only one able. Perhaps that’s one of the reasons he holds her in such high esteem: she’s the only one who knows who he is, behind this ridiculous facade of helpful, cheerful engineer James Attik. Stretching with a groan until his back pops, scars faintly visible in the iridescent lighting of the Pizzaplex’s underground tunnel complex. She’s right: the night promises tedium. Tries to remain peppy, though finds himself lacking ——— “ It’s a child, my dear. ” Says the word child as though some said his true name now: disdainful, disbelieving. “ How much trouble can he give the two of us working together, hmm? ” He gives her a grin; one that he hopes promises a swift and easy capture of the Gregory boy. Cane clicking on the ground as he strides ahead, left leg slightly bowed with the pace.

[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]

PREV. SETTING: THE DAYCARE. ENTER DANDIE @dandelicn AND WILLIAM @slaughterlocked.

Oh. William - James, he tells himself again, though for a moment, he is rooted deep in the tendrils of the past - does recognize her. Doesn't remember names ( he's always been terrible with them ) but it would be hard to forget a creation of his. Well. Perhaps not his anymore. Most of what he touches turns to blood and bone: the animatronic in front of him is soft, and warm, and studies him like he is something soft and warm too. As she always has been.

He chuckles, but it is more strained, breathless, than he likes to admit. Being here, talking to her: it's an odd feeling. Gives him a rush of adrenaline he has not felt in a while.

" I was... " James uses one hand to gesture around vaguely; tries, in vain, to gather his composure. " I fix things around here. I have not been here in a long time. You don't recognise me, then? "

( Perhaps a stupid, stupid question. But curiosity does not kill the cat when he is certain he can bring it back. )

[runelocked]

THIRTY SIX. Another if you count his eldest boy, another if you count himself. And he does not take her into account: so fascinating to him, and yet William doesn’t care enough to think of her as victim. Not yet, anyway. Thirty eight in total; and he doesn’t realise the thirty ninth stares him down now, gun in hand and an audience of ghosts at her back. He’s cautious, but that age-old arrogant calm remains, like he knows what he’s doing. Like he knows he can walk out of this with nothing changing. Perhaps he’s delusional.

Compared to her state, he is remarkably put together. Barely aged a day since the eighties, too, or had it been the nineties? His memory is faded with time. Perhaps the lines on his face are more pronounced; perhaps he looks a little more tired, a little grey around his dark head, but he is pristine. Purple shirt pressed neat, top button undone; the bottom of his black coat swaying in the faint breeze. But he lowers his eyes, deferential just enough to make her feel in control, and keeps his hands raised even as he steps one half-foot closer. Here is his story: catch her off guard, slam the gun into her face until she is no more. Bottle her terror and incubate her agony. Leave it to brew, bubble, break down. See what comes next.

But that’s later. Here’s now — William clears his throat, close enough to the window now that the pale light from outside highlights his scars in stark detail. The springlock scars, the newest ones, are still dark, leaving his whole body ( not face ) a strange mottled mix of white and red. Still walks with a limp: springlocks leaving their permanent mark on more than just his skin. His calm, funny little smile hasn’t left his face.

“ Where to start ? ” He asks aloud, a storyteller to the core. It had been the reason he’d started working with the children, after all — he’d genuinely loved kids. Still does, still gets a faint fond smile on his face whenever he sees a happy family on the street. William offers her a raise of his eyebrow, dark eyes sweeping over her bitter, angry form: “ The story is long, I’m afraid, and I know you know some already. I won’t bore you by repeating myself. You have questions, yes? About me. My body. That one, ” he adds, “ is simple enough. I have— Well, if I say power, that makes me sound quite mad. ” William’s chuckle is empty, hollow, a grotesque sound despite its geniality. “ But it’s the truth. I’ve done the unthinkable, my dear. Solved the curse of death, old age, decay. I’ve passed the limits of what any scientist thought possible . . . I don’t age. I don’t die; not by ordinary means, anyway. ” A bright, brilliant smile. “ I call it Remnant. Shall I start there ? ”

CONTINUED. / @cantfixyou

[runelocked]

❝ this is a safe place. ❞ or at least, the little animatronic lion seems to think so. that's what the daycare is for!

SAFE; the daycare is many things... William - James, he feebly reminds himself, with a purposeful squeeze of a cane he needs only on his bad days - would not have called it 'safe'. Not for the likes of him. Though he supposes it is a good thing that the animatronic - what was her name? He couldn't remember, there are so many, all of them differing and bright and brilliant, and his memory is not as sharp as it had been before - believes it to be so.

You are safe, her words imply. The daycare can be a sanctuary.

Perhaps... James allows a faint, mirthful smile to twist his lips upwards. The grasp on his cane ( his lifeboat in this place ) loosens.

" Isn't the whole pizzaplex supposed to be safe ? " He asks lightheadedly - he knows the answer to his own question. " You startled me. I ... "

The clamp of a springlock, the spasm of a plan gone wrong. Black fathomless eyes boring deep into his body. There is a reason he avoids the creatures in this place.

" I wasn't expecting any of you to be here at this hour. "

[runelocked]

❝ that is not who i am anymore. ❞   (from hopedoomed)

“ COULD HAVE FOOLED ME. ” “James’s” response is dry and crisp, dead leaves dragging across a dirty pathway. He has almost forgotten what it feels like to talk to his youngest: oh, Elizabeth, how far she’s come! He’s almost proud — if not for the actual words she speaks. “You are still my daughter, are you not? My daughter, my… own creation. You are every bit the person you’ve always been. No amount of wishing otherwise is going to change that.”

He’s blind, however, to the truth. The changes Elizabeth has undergone, despite programming her to remain a permanent loyal follower of his: he sees it the way he always has. “James Attik” and Elizabeth Afton, father and daughter, dominating the world together through the Fazbear empire. Collecting remnant, working side by side… It’s almost too good to be true: absently, he wonders if he should be adjusting her wiring — perhaps it’s time for her upgrade.

Tapping his fingers distractedly against his thigh, cane placed across his lap as he works, he barely turns his attention to her to reply: “I do hope this little glitch isn’t going to interfere in our work, Lizzie. We have so, so much to do.”

[runelocked]

“   it   has   been   so   long   since   i   saw   you   last .   ”

A WRENCH TO THE CHEST, A SLOW DECOMMISSIONING. That had been William’s last memory of Dandie — and, in all honesty, he’d expected to never think about her again. And yet here she is, soft and sentient and better than before… It’s almost surreal. (In an embarrassing turn of events, he’d had a soft spot for this particular animatronic to begin with. She’d been one of his earliest designs, and even now, it makes a small childish part of him he’d long thought dead warm.) He approaches cautiously, leaning heavy on his stick: doesn’t dare get as close as he wishes, for lingering paranoia over how aggressive the bots could get.

��� You remember me ? ” He says, practically reverent— and then follows it up with a sharp, almost panicked, “ I’m an employee. It should be in your code not to hurt me. ”

Perhaps she’d never been going to. It’s impossible to tell: his eyesight isn’t what it used to be, and he can’t tell from her voice. But his heart is hammering and he does not want to risk it, so he voices it aloud in hopes that he’s correct. …Then again, coding isn’t always accurate, and who knows what’s changed since he’d taken on this new identity?

[runelocked]

" i don't think normal 'plex employees would have to snoop around to get to places. . . "

"WHAT WOULD YOU KNOW?" Is the snippy response, flustered and embarrassed by his attempt and failure to pick the simplest lock. "You're not even an employee." Sure, perhaps picking irate arguments with the animatronics is a ridiculous and risky idea, but William is beyond caring. This morning couldn't have gone less to plan, and it's not even ten am...

Straightening himself up haughtily, like he hadn't just been caught with his hand in the metaphorical cookie jar, William pulled out his incredibly official Fazpass: it's clearly been stolen from a child, and, in the place of the name, it just says EMPLOYEE in square thin capitals. ...Alright, so perhaps he shouldn't show this to anyone - he shoves it back into his pocket, scowling.

"I'm new," he improvises, "I'm supposed to be working the day shift. But I seem to have locked myself out of the office. Maybe you could help me?"

[runelocked]

PREV SCENE. SETTING: DAYCARE. CHARACTERS: @dandelicn, @slaughterlocked. LIGHTS UP.

William is not quite broken enough to feel a scan being performed, but not quite whole or human enough not to notice it taking place. Twitching once in alarm, before the panic subsides with the confirmation of his identity, he takes a deep breath, and then another, feeling dusty pizza - scented air press against the inside of his lungs. Alive. He is alive. And the creature in front of him is...?

Dandie steps back, those luminous bright eyes so familiar, and William James breathes a sigh of relief. She does not know him. Not truly, not yet.

“ I can… Yes, ” he seizes the opportunity with both hands eagerly, though he doesn’t understand his own enthusiasm. Perhaps he wants to study Dandie; examine in detail the animatronic while she recharged? Or perhaps in some inexplicable way this place reminded him of his OWN childhood; where he’d found, in that grubby English ball pit, a stuffed rabbit, yellow and purple, and claimed it as his own. He’s not sure. “ If it’s— quite alright with you, I think I’ll stay. At least for now. Erm, something always needs fixing eventually. ” ( I can put you back together. )

He finally offers her the equivalent of a smile; lips pressing together, quirking up at the edges, in an awkward reminiscence of shyness.

“ And peace and quiet, ” he says, adding to her list, “ at least, there is for now. ” Peace to sit and think and plan: he doesn’t get much of that now. Perhaps befriending one of the daycare assistants will be beneficial to him after all. “ Peace, and quiet, and… well, you. ”