#God Is An Automaton | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

betweenblackberrybranches · 2 years ago

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Automaton au

Chapter 1: Lost and found

They call it the age of man. It really isn’t. The creatures of old didn’t vanish, they just left the more densely populated areas. Most people didn’t realize that and the scholars and wizards proclaiming the victory of humankind, in the name of the king, certainly do not correct the assumptions of the general public. Stories from the wilder parts of the country are often put off as old tales in the safety of the capital and the surrounding cities and villages. But leaving the safety of the “developed” lands, people still fear and respected the things in the woods. Here the mediator between the Nature and the Humans is still a very much-needed profession. Witches had a bad reputation in the big cities for a long time. Apart from their knowledge in potion brewing, often only rivalled by alchemists, they are generally frowned upon as charlatans, their magic, connected to nature, seen as archaic compared to the sleek and modern magic of wizards. People do not like to be reminded of the outside, of the creatures roaming.

You sigh as you tuck in the silver broche holding your scarf, a sign of your profession, just as much as the much more obvious broad brimmed felted sun hat, you had rolled up and put away earlier. Your mother had gone ahead to look for a carriage that could take you at least somewhat in the direction you were traveling in. Looking at the flowers next to the dirt road you walk slowly basking in the spring sun, fidgeting with a small stone you had picked up on the way. You feel nervous as you step on the muddy square of the small city, filled with different carts and carriages, the amount of people already threatening to overwhelm you. your mother, outgoing as she is, already made friends with a guy sitting on a carriage filled with various goods, Talking to him while scratching the donkeys already harnessed to pull the cart. She waves as you approach quickly telling you his name and various other facts about him you do not think you will be able to remember. He is willing to let you travel on the back of the cart for a small price. You study his bearded face riddled with crowfeet and his warmly smiling eyes. Well at least he seems trustworthy you think as you thank him for his kindness and sit down in the back while your mother sits in the front, still talking with him about some kind of political topic. As the wagon lazily rumbles over the uneven roads, you take out the letter you had looked at so much the last few weeks, studying it again, as if its meaning could suddenly make sense to you.

[With sadness, we have to inform you that the great wizard Aspodious has passed.

He died soundly in his sleep, which the doctor on sight attributed to his great age.

As you are his relatives, we would like to convey our deepest condolences to your family.

The following page is a copy of his will. The Village chief of Worthwood has been informed and will help you with further inquiries.

Wizard association of the wizard tower. Capital, year 27 of king Gorm the kind, season of last light.]

You grimace at the page, cursing the harsh winter that first hindered the poor currier from delivering this message to the small village you lived in and then making it impossible to travel to the capital at all. It had been so bad the currier himself had to stay with one of the families who had room in their barn because the way back would have been as much as a death sentence, by spring the guy was promised to one of their daughters, Anne, if you remember correctly, they were quite the cute couple actually. You had seen them from time to time in the winter, her eyes had nothing but him in them and he couldn’t stop talking about how strong and good at hunting in the snow she was. A small smile crept on your face. At least some good had come of all of this.

When you had arrived in the capital your granduncle had been buried for a long time, all you could do was lay flowers on his grave and talking to his associates. Not that you actually wanted to attend his funeral on the account of all the wizards that surely littered the occasion.

Looking at the second page of the letter your face immediately scrunches back into a displeased expression.

[As I am old now I look back on my life, I wish I had spent more time with my family as estranged as most of you are from me.

I have not seen my nephew often for a long time, he always struck me as a bright boy though, he and my departed brothers wife I may leave 10 000 gold coins each.

My nephews’ son is a less bright one, followed by misfortune, as it seems. I leave him my small house in the outskirts of Worthwood. I hope this will lead to the foolish boy finally settling down.

I thank my niece for visiting me now and then, showing respect for my research and keeping me company when I was sickly in bed, as happens more often, now that I am old. To her I will leave half of my fortune and my best wishes.

My nieces’ child I have not seen since they were rather small, though they send me their best wishes every time their mother visited. To them I leave everything in my small house in worthwood, 5 000 gold coins and the family curse.

To the Wizard tower I leave half of my fortune, in memory of my happy life from apprenticeship under my late master, to the upper ranks of wizard kind.

Follow my wishes as stated in this document. Grand wizard Aspodius. Capital, year 27 of king Gorm the kind, season of first harvest.]

Trailing the lines repeatedly, you stare at the stamp, marking the piece of paper as an official document. He left you the family curse.

Leaning back, you look at the sky peeking through the canopy of the trees lining the road, shadows and light trailing over your face slowly. “This is such a mess…”you mutter. A family curse, most times, is the curse of a bloodline. The cursed one usually gets a vision at some point detailing who in the family will receive it next, and this vision is, after an old custom only revealed after their death.

Lightly bunching up the fabric of your long sleeve, you peer at the deep red marks that had suddenly appeared on your right Arm last winter. At that time you had thought it a rash of some sort and treated it accordingly, generously applying soothing salves of your own making. Now it is somewhat obvious that they are not, they look just too similar to a rather big handprint adorned by sharp tips. As if someone had grabbed you. There was another handprint in the middle of your chest, around where your heart would be.

You did not know the details of the curse and your mother had refused to tell you anything about it. “In due time” she had said. It felt rather violating, having something happen to you but not being told anything about it. Your father had only tried to cheer you up, but couldn’t offer any information either. The family of your mother was rather secretive, both Witches of old and wizards and even nobles littering their ranks, though most of them long dead. Your mother did not like talking of them.

When you were small you had wanted to know more of your mothers family. She seldom told you about them, and when she did, it was rarely more than their names, which had long since slipped your mind.

Wondering which one of your ancestors was responsible for the curse and what exactly it entails, you hover your hands over your chest, rocking slightly back and forth, as you often do when deep in thoughts.

You travel with the old man and his cart for two days, camping under the stars at night. On the morning of the third day you arrive at his destination and part ways. Before you say your goodbyes, he draws you a small map, pointing out the village of Worthwood only laying a few crossroads over, behind some hills.

It still takes you a sizable amount of time getting there, not wanting to exhaust yourself too much you rest at the roadside multiple times eating the rest of the bread and cheese you had brought on this journey. In the late evening, you enter worthwood, barely more than 14 little cottages and bigger farmhouses and barns cluttering a small vale surrounded by the outskirts of the deep forests, only visible because of the rather bright light of the full moon. You remember this place, nothing seems to has changed since the summer you spent here when you were about 5 years old. Which is quite the feat considering the closeness to the woods, making visits of creatures of old an event of high probability. Their witch must be quite skilled, you think as you follow your mother towards the centre of the vale, maybe the witch would be willing to share some of their wisdom with you.

Luckily, in the house of the village chief, the light is still burning, when you get there and your mother goes in to talk to him about your arrival. You staying outside, the usual anxiety already welling up just thinking of just going in a strangers house and interrupting their evening.

Your cousin will probably come here a few weeks later, knowing him he probably has some sort of dubious undertaking to take care of, so you had all the time you wanted to look through the things granduncle Aspodius had left to you. Twiddling your thumbs, you look out into the dark of night, leaning back against the house. Well it’s not like you need anything, the 5 000 gold they had handed to you in the capital are more than enough.

He probably only left it to you because he felt bad for you, but you won’t complain, it was rather nice receiving multiple years salaries of a high guard all at once. Especially because you did not make much money, mostly being paid in useful items and food.

As you stare at the treeline in the distance, you squint feeling like something is moving. A shiver goes down your spine. Something is definitely there, but does not approach further than the beginning of the barren fields. Probably a ward and an offering at the beginning of the woods to keep the old ones out but still satisfied. Well at least that is what you would have used to secure this location, you think as your mother finally emerges from the chiefs house.

Exhausted, you and your mother finally open the door to the small farmhouse after lazily strolling the rest of the way in almost complete darkness. As inconspicuous as the outside is, the inside is furnished lavishly.

Neither of you has the energy to look at it closer though as you plop down on the sitting area around the fireplace and immediately fall into a deep slumber.

You dream, it’s one of those dreams where you know that it’s not real, but it still instils a bone chilling feeling in you.

You lay in a meadow, as disembodied hands forcefully hold you down, burning your skin. Above you, the blood red sky is adorned by both Moon and Sun, casting their overbearing light, as you thrash your arms and legs to get free. You hear a sickening array of cracks and flesh tearing. There is no air in your lounges, only blood.

Waking up you take a sharp breath, hands lunging to your chest and try to slowly calming yourself down, slumping over and holding yourself. Looking up, you see a Cup of tea your mother had left there with a little note on the dark wooden table next to the sitting area.

[I will go to the village chief again to talk about the house, please start going through the things in there and make a list of everything you want and while you are at it try cleaning a little. Mom.]

You smile as you look at the small flower she had scribbled on the note the icy afterimage of your dream slowly fading in the dusty warm morning light falling through thin curtains. You take a sip of the tea. It is ice cold and bitter, but you still down it in one swoop.

Still groggy you find the bucket your mother had brought over from the small well and quickly splash your face with a little water. Braiding your hair back to keep it out of your face, you start working.

You soon realize how dirty the inside of this house truly is. Before you had been tired and marvelling at the fine furniture and other trinkets but now in the daylight the thick layer of dust all but sparkles in the light shining through the spotty windows. After a short search you find a storage room, grabbing a rag and starting to widdle over some of the most prominent surfaces. Now and then you take out your notebook and write down a description of a weird Stone or some tincture that still seems potent when you open it. You do not think that you want any of the furniture, bringing it home would be too much of a hassle, even though you truly love the dark green couch in front of the fireplace, never having seen a couch like it before, claws for feet and wooden carvings of plants and beasts around the back.

Going through the rooms you scratch down a few notes until you stop in a short corridor that had been concealed behind a partition you had slightly shoved to the side to have a closer look. The only thing of note here is a barred off door, definitely ominous but also pretty intriguing, you think to yourself as you shove the little leather bound notebook and pen into one of your pockets. Carefully you lift the thick piece of wood out of its holding places on both sides of the door and prop it up against the wall. Opening the door towards the inside of the room you scan its contents, Old furniture, Dusty crates, some broken parts of a distilling mechanism, nothing of note. Your eyes fall on something toppled over on the floor behind the door after realizing that you can’t open it further. You shriek as you see a leg poking out. Nothing happens. Obviously nothing happens, if there was someone in here they’d be long dead… but finding a corpse wasn’t high on the list of things you had imagined finding in these walls. Warily you take a peak around the corner letting out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding as you notice it’s only a wooden puppet. A naked, strangely big wooden puppet, but a wooden puppet none the less. Kneeling down beside it to look at it closer, you talk to it softly, trying to swallow down the creeping feeling of seeing something human shaped, limp on the flow.

“Hello there, big guy, what are you doing here?”

Sadly the puppet seems to be somewhat broken, missing an arm below the elbow joint, its legs surface splintering strongly and having parts missing. The blue coat of paint is partly scraped off, a deep colour peeking out beneath. The craftsmanship still seems astonishing.

You roll it over to look at its face, a lightly coloured crescent shape filling up half of it. A wide toothy grin and somehow even more wide glass eyes forming a slightly unsettling expression. A Moon, you deduct. Your eyes sparkle as you realize what this is, looking at the connections of the joints and the flat stone surface on a diamond shape in the middle of its chest. Its an old automaton. Nowadays they are more sleek, more refined, but their structure hasn’t changed that much overall. This is certainly a find! Automatons are mostly used for labour these days but it is not unthinkable to find them in entertainment, some nobles even keep them to care for their children. You prop it up and carry it out of the room almost loosing balance when one of its legs momentary gets stuck in the doorframe. Now in the light of a room with actual windows you sit down again to inspect the lifeless wooden body. Most types of automaton have to be filled with magic to a certain extent to come to life. The stone in the centre of its chest acting as its energy reserve. Now it is a darker greyish colour but if magic is inserted it should begin to glow. You always had a fascination with these constructs. You smile, remembering walking all the way to the next city to look at the automatons brought in by the circus or take a peek at the ones in the red light district, respectfully of course. Expectantly you cup the wooden face looking at the fine mechanisms, peeking out under the movable face plate, that probably make it possible for different expressions to be formed. This I such a fine work. Standing up you look back into the storage room searching for any clothing that might belong to the automaton but find nothing. Weird, normally if they are made to resemble the human shape, more or less, they also come with clothes to keep it more… reserved. Looking back at the body on the floor, you ponder; What would it sound like when it is animated? How would it move? It looks quite nimble… Was it an entertainer? You trail your fingers over the enormous hand.

It is obviously broken now, but would it still work if you started it up? You don’t think they can feel pain the same way living things can… at least that’s what you read in a book you once got your hands on, so the missing arm shouldn’t be a big problem.

Is it a good idea to wake a thing locked away in a small storage without knowing if it even works properly? If there is a good reason its locked away? No. Will you do it? Yes. The intrigue is just too much.

You hoover your hand idly over the stone square on its chest wiggling your fingers lightly, drawing out your magic like a happily bubbling spring. It flows directly into the stone, beginning to shimmer in a swirl of a rich yellow and blue as your whole body tingles warmly. A low humming emerging from the torso of the automaton alerts you to your magic working. Drawing back your hand, you sit in front of the body and wait.

A stirring noise and sudden movement startles you and you fall backwards, trying to escape the collision with an arm shooting up in an energetic stretch. Laying on your back like a tortious, you hear a cheerful voice.

“OH! Hello there, you!!! Who are you, little friend? Are you allowed in here? Oh Oh no, where is my arm? That is new, I used to have more arm. the grand wizard will be mad, so mad! He hates repairing me”

The automaton seems rather anxious, pointing at you with the stump of the missing arm.

A large hand drags you up carefully and sets you on your feet, but doesn’t let you go. Looking up the automaton had completely changed colour from a deep blue to a bright yellow; the moon face had become a sun, through triangles peeking out of its sides, forming stylized Sunbeams. You stare in awe. It stares back with a wild smile.

“Oh, well I need an answer or you will have to be expelled! Oh yes, oh yes, Grand wizard Aspodius is very particular about who is allowed in his house after all! And I think you were the one who broke my arm! There is no one here but you, and it certainly was not me! That’s aaawwwwfully rude!”

You gawk dumbfounded as the automaton drags you a few long strides and softly pushes you out of the front door.

“Well I am sure he will be back in a few hours, so if you want to talk to him you should come back when he is home! Good bye little friend!”

He rotates his head to an inhuman degree and waves while closing the door.

From the inside you hear a sigh and then a squeaking.

“OH.. OH no its so messy in here. How is it so messy? Clean up, clean up!”

Quietly you try to open the door again but find it locked. Well great.

---

Your mother still laughs after you two walked all the way back, your face is beet red by now.

Cryptic as ever she had refused to say anything about the automaton even though the knowing look she exchanged with the chief had clued you in that she very much had something to say about this.

“I am surprised you don’t remember him. You were running after him nonstop when you were small, Don’t be surprised, he can be a little… overwhelming.”

She smiles encouragingly before knocking on the door.

The Automaton opens the door. A white apron hastily tied multiple times around it.

“OH! Its you! What a nice visit, but your uncle is not here right now!”

“Hello Attendant. I would appreciate if you would let us in and we could talk for a little.”

Your mother does not wait for an answer and pushes straight-ahead into the living space, dragging you behind her.

“Oho the little friend from earlier! I must say I have quite a bone to pick with you, yes I do!”

The automaton …. The attendant wags his finger at you disapprovingly.

You cringe slightly, you definitely do not like being treated as a kid.

Your mother looks around the Room, beaming. “Ah Attendant you did quite a good job, cleaning the place up in the time it took them to get me…” She turns to look at him and creases her face slightly “Why are you naked under the apron?”

“Ah, Well when I woke up I couldn’t find any of my clothing….” A panicked expression flying over the Attendants face as he pulls the apron tighter around himself. “So this troublemaker belongs to you? I thought they were a lowlife of some sort, my apologies.”

He all but hurls himself into an elegant bow that somehow transitions into a handstand.

You giggle, enjoying the silliness as your mother sits down on the couch.

“Would you two sit down too?” Your mother asked in the way that meant it was an order. Both you and him immediately plop down on either side of her. Everyone who knows your mother, knows not to get on her bad side, as nice and caring as she is, when she is angry her cruelness is only rivalled by the most abhorrent tyrants of old.

“Listen Attendant,” She speaks calmly after a short pause “You must have been out of commission for a while… When was Aspodius here the last time?”

The Attendants rays, that had been turning since he sat down stopped suddenly and then started to turn in the other direction.

“Ah … he is staying here right now! He just left this morning to gather some medical herbs in the woods. Yes,yes!”

You look at your mother, as she lets out a strained huff.

“The village chief said that my uncle hasn’t been here for about 12 or so years… He suddenly left one summer and never returned, only sending some money for repairs on the house”

The Rays of the automaton retract into his head only peeking out a little bit as he stares at your mother with horror.

“What? No! that doesn’t…” His hands press into the couch cushions until you hear a ripping noise. His distress is rather clear and you stand up suddenly, wanting to help, to do something.

Your mother shoots you a look. “Please go through Aspodius’ clothing maybe there is something in there that fits our friend here, was rather big large when he was young afterall” You nod walking away in the direction of the Bedroom. she wants to talk to him without you there, you won’t interfere.

The Closet is heavy but old, the only reason that moths haven’t gorged on the fine fabrics inside is the enchantment on the wood itself, keeping away unwanted critters. You pull out a jacket that looks big enough to cover a sizable amount of the attendant. It has a nice Blue and orange chequered pattern on the wide bodice and poufy sleeves striped in two shades of orange. There are pants of the same design with wide legs. Wizards often wear bright colours in outrageous pattern combinations, and your granduncle had been the most wizardly wizard you had ever laid your eyes on, even though you don’t remember anything else about him. For a second you think of keeping this fun looking clothing for yourself, but it is the biggest size available and this would probably just barely fit the big frame of the Attendant. You sigh and walk back towards the main room were your mother still talks to the automaton in a hushed tone, but barely keeping down. Catching what your mother is saying you stop dead in your tracks almost loosing grip on the fabric you are holding.

“Don’t be like that! The curse will run its course, you will not be able to stop it just like that…. He obviously asked us to come here to find something to do with the curse…..No I don’t know more… why? Oh no you won’t I know you have something to do with it. Don’t you get too close to them, I’m watching you!....Yea of course”

Having heard enough to twist the metaphorical knife into your chest you huff slightly as your hand reaches towards the curse markings on your body. It still bothers you incredibly, that your mother won’t tell you anything about the curse, even if her own knowledge in it is lacking, you still want her to. It can’t be that bad considering the ripe age your great uncle reached, without major problems; it is probably not connected to your life-force. You absentmindedly chew on your lip, a bad habit of yours, before you take a few loud steps and enter the room.

You just want to get out of this situation.

“I’m back, found something that might fit. I will go outside for a little, getting some water and whatever I can find in the garden that we can use for dinner!”

Hurriedly you exit the building and step into the garden outback. Making yourself think of anything else but the curse. You try to empty your head by looking at the plants. Considering how long this garden had to be not attended to by the Attendant it was still quite nice, though you immediately realize that you won’t find anything to eat this early in spring. Squatting down you look at some yellow and purple crocuses sprouting out of the patchy grass.

“There you are beansprout!”

The Attendants voice appears eerily close to your ear. You swirl around, catching yourself from falling by propping yourself up with your hands on the wet ground, ending up sitting like a frog about to leap. All you can manage to bring out, a surprised “Ah” looking up at him. He now wears the clothing you brought him instead of the apron, one of the sleeves flopping around while he gestures to wave.

He chuckles softly, creaking slightly like a loose floorboard.

“I did not recognize you at all! Last time I saw you, you were this small!” He pinched his fingers together.

“Well that’s fine I don’t even remember meeting you before.” You mumble and immediately regret as you see his face slightly drooping. “Ah sorry…” You tag on way to late and look away embraced.

“Well it’s fine! Yea, fine! Little friend. We can just become friends again!”

He bows down and offers you his intact hand, his rays turning slowly. You grab it

“Pleased to meet you, Mister Attendant.” You say in your most refined haughty voice, wiggling your head slightly, imitating the nobles from the big cities.

“The pleasure is all mine!” You could swear the grin on his face widened even more as he curtsies.

____

So here is the first chapter! This is from an early draft were Y/N and the Attendant had met before, Y/Ns family had a bigger role in the story and there was a curse... i changed quite a bit around for the comic part of the au maybe ill write more if i have the time and then they would be like different timelines of the same au

#dca x reader #daycare attendant #fnaf sun #sun x reader #sundrop #fnaf sb #my writing #automaton au #sorry i am really shy about my writing #i first wrote this with a she/her reader but then changed it at some point so if there is still the wrong pronouns somewhere im sorry #its slow on the upstart #takes a while untill sun actually shows up #i mean i originally wrote this just for me so its really selfindulgent #it be like that #god im nervous about showing you all this

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