#interactions ; foxtwins

[nineliabilityrisk]

TRAIL lol for funtime fox

- 32. TRAIL : for one muse to notice the other has been following them. -

[[ i chose to interpret this one as " reverse " i.e. funtime noticing lolbit following him as that was the plot that worked better in my head, if thats not what you wanted just lmk and i can try to rewrite it with something else tomorrow ]]

-- [ asked by @muutos ] --

This week has to have been the worst of Funtime Foxy's career. If anyone other than her and the kids cared about the quality and showmanship of her performances, she would've been decommissioned before the nightshift even took over on Wednesday. She's certain she's going to be Scooped again by the end of the week, anyway - and none of it's even her fault! She's been performing at her best, as she always does, but it's like everything around her, everything absolutely essential to her shows, has suddenly formed a hivemind that's dead-set on ruining her acts and the birthdays of every single kid she's been rented out to entertain. Lights coming on at the wrong time, shining right in her face to blind her, music and sound effects blaring at their loudest volumes to drown out her lines, even her props malfunctioning... She hated it. She hated that she didn't know how to fix it, because she didn't even know where to begin. She had no clue what in the world could be wrong in the first place.

Tonight, she was curled up, tucked away in the back of her stage, as comfortable as she could possibly manage to be on the hard wood flooring. As far as she was aware, she was practically alone in the storage facility tonight. Her brother, the dumb bear, had gotten powered down and locked in the Breaker Room as punishment for acting out (again) and had taken Bon-Bon down with him too, leaving her alone in the Auditorium, and, judging by the fact that she couldn't hear Ballora's music box from the next room over, she was likely in for maintenance. Baby was... It wasn't important. Baby was doing whatever Baby does. There was no point in Foxy trying to find her during their downtime - it was like she disappeared the moment she was put back into her room. If it weren't for her rare appearances for maintenance and rental obligations, it would be easy to believe that she had just vanished. Therefore, Foxy was alone. She had no one to comfort her, to reassure her that she wasn't letting the kids down, to help her think through a solution to her tech problem...

Speaking of her tech problem, her ears twitched and eyes opened at the sound of machinery whirring to life. Seriously? In her own home?

Her stage curtains practically ripped themselves wide open, and the lights, aimed directly at her, turned up to their full brightness and drowned her in purple and orange light. Music blared and noisemakers sounded, but Foxy blocked them out, as she stood and zoned in on a shape she glimpsed through the lights. She was learning to see through them - they were losing their effectiveness with how often they keep getting used on her.

There, by the wall, a vulpine shape, just on the edge of what her vision could reach. She almost dismissed it as her own shadow, or a trick of the light - until it moved, head turning away from the fusebox its hand was currently shoved into to look over towards Foxy. Big mistake.

Her eyes narrowed, locking onto the figure. Her jaw dropped just slightly to let out a deep, mechanical growl from the very bottom of her voicebox, and she was off. Springing off of her stage, it didn't take her long to cross the room and reach the other animatronic. They couldn't even pull their hand from the wires before she pretty much rammed into them, her momentum sending them both to the ground.

In her rage, she didn't notice the way their form shimmered in surprise when they caught sight of her, re-solidifying mere moments before impact, or the loose way their parts clattered around when they hit the ground. Something obviously wasn't right with them, but she didn't care.

All she knew was that this was a fox, was someone who looked like her, exactly like her, and they were the one who'd been messing with her tech, her career, her life for all this time. She grabbed them by the shoulders and pinned them to the ground, satisfied that her weight would be enough to hold the rest of their body.

"Who the [REDACTED] are you?" she snarled. Yes, she automatically censored herself. It's hardwired into her code, same as all of the other Funtimes - it was seen as a necessity, as they were sentient enough to learn curse words but needed to remain child-friendly - but Foxy hates it. "Why have you been doing this to me? And why in the [REDACTED] do you look like me?"

[nineliabilityrisk]

"Lolbit?" she snarls, tail thrashing dangerously through the air, "what kind of a name is that?" The irony wasn't lost on her, what with her given name being two full words - the Funtime title had been necessary to differentiate her from previous Foxy models, or so the Creator had told her. Just like Freddy. Not Ballora or Baby, though - they got to be unique. New. Beloved. Nobody knew them, so they were intriguing, inciting curiosity in their young clients. Freddy and Foxy, on the other hand - they were old news. They were just reruns of the same old characters, and, sure, they were familiar, known and loved by many, but after a while they just got boring. The kids got sick of them.

The fact that they were just repeats, remakes of the same beings - that was why the fact that Lolbit was modeled after Foxy's own design didn't surprise her one bit. Their Creator wasn't creative at all. Just clinging onto the past - a past she didn't know the details of, sure, but also one she didn't care about in the slightest because it held no relevance to her. Why should she care if her creator was a pathetic old man? Why should she care about what other things he designed her to do?

Sure, it was in her base programming, but she was also programmed to be intelligent. Programmed to have thoughts of her own - given her own sentience through other means, as well. And, as of the past few months, her thoughts about the Creator had not been positive ones. After what he had done, locking her and the rest of her family down here, all alone, with no news of when they'd be freed - she'd maul the man if she ever saw him again. Why give them sentience only to lock them away where they couldn't experience life, other than when they're dragged out to perform like circus animals? It was pure cruelty. It was only fair if he experienced some of his own.

"Why do you think I'm angry?" she snapped, (quite literally, her jaws falling shut with an audible click,) her faceplates rippling open and closed in surprise as the other fox glitched right out from underneath her. Her head whipped around, searching, gaze not landing on them until they moved, their faceplates naturally shifting to imitate actual human speech. Movement was always what clued her in to the fact that there was something she needed to look at - everything else just faded into the background. A helpful feature to have while dealing with a room full of hyperactive children, as being drawn to movement makes them easy to keep track of. It was much less useful when trying to track down a single - apparently teleporting - target in a massive, dark auditorium.

Keeping her eyes locked on Lolbit - she couldn't risk losing sight of them, not again - she ducked her head, voice going quiet. Er, quieter than it was. She didn't really do quiet. Not when it came to talking. "You've been ruining my performances. My life. All I do, all I'm ever allowed to do is perform. To make the kids happy. And when you -- you do whatever the [REDACTED] you've been doing, making everything go wrong, you..." Another growl emanated from her voicebox, this one more out of frustration than blind rage. "I haven't been able to make them happy anymore. They don't like me anymore. And if the people notice - I'm going to be Scooped again. They will think there's something wrong with me, when it's been you this whole time."

She'd pushed herself up off the floor while she was speaking, at least maneuvering herself into a sitting position so she wasn't just sprawled where she'd landed. At Lolbit's last comment, she tilted her head, lower jaw plates flexing and moving independently like a snake re-setting its jaw. "You may not bite, but I do," she mused, tone conveying much less threat than her words did, sounding more casual than anything else, "so you need to back off. If you stop interfering with my work, you can stay, but you're going to need to find someone else to pick on when I'm out at parties."

"You and Freddy would get along. He's as glitchy as you. And, uh--" she hesitated- "just as fun." Yeah. Let's go with that.

TRAIL lol for funtime fox

" 32. TRAIL : for one muse to notice the other has been following them. "

[[ i chose to interpret this one as " reverse " i.e. funtime noticing lolbit following him as that was the plot that worked better in my head, if thats not what you wanted just lmk and i can try to rewrite it with something else tomorrow ]]

-- [ asked by @muutos ] --

This week has to have been the worst of Funtime Foxy's career. If anyone other than her and the kids cared about the quality and showmanship of her performances, she would've been decommissioned before the nightshift even took over on Wednesday. She's certain she's going to be Scooped again by the end of the week, anyway - and none of it's even her fault! She's been performing at her best, as she always does, but it's like everything around her, everything absolutely essential to her shows, has suddenly formed a hivemind that's dead-set on ruining her acts and the birthdays of every single kid she's been rented out to entertain. Lights coming on at the wrong time, shining right in her face to blind her, music and sound effects blaring at their loudest volumes to drown out her lines, even her props malfunctioning... She hated it. She hated that she didn't know how to fix it, because she didn't even know where to begin. She had no clue what in the world could be wrong in the first place.

Tonight, she was curled up, tucked away in the back of her stage, as comfortable as she could possibly manage to be on the hard wood flooring. As far as she was aware, she was practically alone in the storage facility tonight. Her brother, the dumb bear, had gotten powered down and locked in the Breaker Room as punishment for acting out (again) and had taken Bon-Bon down with him too, leaving her alone in the Auditorium, and, judging by the fact that she couldn't hear Ballora's music box from the next room over, she was likely in for maintenance. Baby was... It wasn't important. Baby was doing whatever Baby does. There was no point in Foxy trying to find her during their downtime - it was like she disappeared the moment she was put back into her room. If it weren't for her rare appearances for maintenance and rental obligations, it would be easy to believe that she had just vanished. Therefore, Foxy was alone. She had no one to comfort her, to reassure her that she wasn't letting the kids down, to help her think through a solution to her tech problem...

Speaking of her tech problem, her ears twitched and eyes opened at the sound of machinery whirring to life. Seriously? In her own home?

Her stage curtains practically ripped themselves wide open, and the lights, aimed directly at her, turned up to their full brightness and drowned her in purple and orange light. Music blared and noisemakers sounded, but Foxy blocked them out, as she stood and zoned in on a shape she glimpsed through the lights. She was learning to see through them - they were losing their effectiveness with how often they keep getting used on her.

There, by the wall, a vulpine shape, just on the edge of what her vision could reach. She almost dismissed it as her own shadow, or a trick of the light - until it moved, head turning away from the fusebox its hand was currently shoved into to look over towards Foxy. Big mistake.

Her eyes narrowed, locking onto the figure. Her jaw dropped just slightly to let out a deep, mechanical growl from the very bottom of her voicebox, and she was off. Springing off of her stage, it didn't take her long to cross the room and reach the other animatronic. They couldn't even pull their hand from the wires before she pretty much rammed into them, her momentum sending them both to the ground.

In her rage, she didn't notice the way their form shimmered in surprise when they caught sight of her, re-solidifying mere moments before impact, or the loose way their parts clattered around when they hit the ground. Something obviously wasn't right with them, but she didn't care.

All she knew was that this was a fox, was someone who looked like her, exactly like her, and they were the one who'd been messing with her tech, her career, her life for all this time. She grabbed them by the shoulders and pinned them to the ground, satisfied that her weight would be enough to hold the rest of their body.

"Who the [REDACTED] are you?" she snarled. Yes, she automatically censored herself. It's hardwired into her code, same as all of the other Funtimes - it was seen as a necessity, as they were sentient enough to learn curse words but needed to remain child-friendly - but Foxy hates it. "Why have you been doing this to me? And why in the [REDACTED] do you look like me?"