#s.teve making shit up: i believe this <3< /div> Explore tagged Tumblr posts

[mute-call]

"Thanks. This might turn out to be pretty easy with the two of us working together!" It's not an arrangement that Steven would typically recommend, just because it doubles the potential casualties of any given shift, but Michael knows what he's doing. With both of them staying alert for movement and uninvited visitors, their chances of survival have probably gone up significantly. ...if only the company would actually pay for regularly scheduled shared shifts like these.

"Wh-- are you sure?" Steven blinks, surprised both by Mike's decision and how insistent he seems on sticking to it. Bell still feels a little selfish when he sits back down, but he can't help but admit to himself that it's nice to be off his feet.

"...alright, we'll see. You just tell me the moment you want to switch or stretch your legs."

Steven chews at his lip as he pulls up the Show Stage camera feed, immediately turning off the monitor again once he sees all three familiar forms standing in position. It's become habit at this point to treat every night like his last, even if he knows from experience that the animatronics go easy on him early in the week. One never knows when these old systems will give out and start draining power more quickly than expected, or when the 'bots will act out of character due to some new malfunction or bug. Always smart to play things safe.

"Yep, all good." He hasn't checked on Foxy, but he doesn't need to; despite the pirate's twitchy nature, he's the one Steve trusts the most to behave himself. Foxy won't be an issue for a while yet, as long as Bell doesn't forget to glance at the cameras every now and then.

"What do you mean, 'why'? ...oh. Uh. ...huh." That's actually a really good question. "I think it's just a policy they kept from the old location." Except if that's the case, why would they make the reasonable decision of turning those protocols off during the day, but continue to allow the machines to roam at night?

"Actually-- you know what, it's probably to make sure they don't break. These things are really advanced-- or, I mean, they were when they came out. Delicate servos, that sort of thing. I think I heard that if part of them stays locked up for too long, it can affect the whole endoskeleton."

He's heard no such thing, but it sounds like it makes sense, and Steven himself is convinced he's gotten that idea from somewhere more credible than his own imagination. As far as he's concerned, one of the technicians probably mentioned it back when he was working with the Toy line, or it was implied when he got trained about the night mode in the first place.

"I don't know. But obviously we still want them to be able to move their arms and everything while they perform, so why risk it, right?"

Having to keep the machines at bay all night isn't exactly the smallest price to pay for their functionality, but it is what it is. At least this arrangement keeps the night guards in a job for as long as they can stand it. Speaking of--

"By the way, I know I said this during your first week, but I really am impressed that you've stuck it out this long, Mike. So many guards just come and go, you know? It's been nice to get to know someone for longer than a day or two." He laughs, propping his elbow on his knee so he can lean forward and continue their conversation at something closer to eye-level.

"You've been holding up okay? They haven't been giving you too much trouble? ...a lot of the nightwatchmen end up hating them in the end, but I think we both know better. They're just, uh... doing what they're doing. It's not their fault, so I appreciate that you're so nice to them. I think it pays off over time."

As Steven talks, Mike takes the time to get settled in his spot in the corner. Shoulder propped up against the locker, he leans his head to the side, the cold metal soothing the slight headache he'd woken with a few hours earlier.

He offers the man a slight smile in response to his assertion, but can't quite find the words to reply. The guy wasn't wrong, per se, but... Mike highly doubted he knew what he was talking about. The sentiment was appreciated nonetheless.

The news about Bonnie brings a furrow to his brow and prompts him to squint out the door in the direction of the stage. He can't make out the forms of the animatronics from here – the angle isn't quite right – but at least he has a pretty clear view all the way to the end of the hall. From here, he should have a decent bit of warning if anyone's coming. "Yeah, he's... Stubborn like that. I can — I'll try to keep an eye on him from here."

Mouth preoccupied with taking a sip of his coffee when Steven starts trying to coax him up off the floor, he waves the man off.

"Nope — no, absolutely not. You sit back down." A little bit aggressive, but clearly that was the only way to get it through Steven's head that he wasn't just saying things to be nice. That he actually meant what he said. "I just barged into your office, in the middle of your shift, and I'm not gonna steal your chair too. I'm just fine right where I'm at. Promise." Plus, he wasn't the one out of the two of them who'd just finished a full shift a couple hours ago. Steven deserved his rest.

Besides, he'd picked this spot for a reason. If Foxy came storming down the hall, this angle could afford him a precious few more seconds of reaction time before he reached the door. At least, this way, Steven would have one less thing to worry about tonight. Michael wasn't here just to be a distraction, after all. He could help.

More than anything, he found he wanted to help. Enough people had gotten hurt because of this franchise, and he really didn't want the other guard, his friend – his mentor, really, the only reason he knew how to survive here – to be the next name added to the list.

Really, if he could've convinced the guy to quit, he would've done it weeks ago, but that would've been awfully hypocritical of him. They both know what it's like to be stuck in a place like this. Any decisions on the matter of self-preservation, of finding alternative employment... They had to be Steven's own. All Michael could do until then was his best. His best to keep the guy safe. His best to figure out exactly what was going on here, at this location. His best to make up for his father's actions — to free the kids' souls. He just hoped Steven would be out by then. He couldn't — nobody else needed to be tangled up in this mess.

Luckily for Michael, the other guard was sufficiently distracted by the clock striking midnight. He hadn't even noticed as Mike's mind had started to wander — too busy keeping track of the animatronics to notice how quiet he'd gone. Saved by the bell, he supposed.

"Everyone in their proper places?" he asks, shaking off the worry that had clouded his thoughts. No time for that, now. He needed to be thinking like he was on the clock, because he pretty much was. No more zoning out. Not for the next six hours, at least.

... Of course, that lasts all of about three minutes before one of the stupid questions he'd always had during his shifts but never had anyone to ask pops into his head.

"Hey. So, I know you said they're put in, like, a free roaming mode to keep their servos from locking up or whatever, but, like... Why? They never even leave their stages during the day. Why would it matter if they couldn't free-roam? They literally don't move, normally. Why do we care about the servos in their legs working. Most animatronics are bolted to the floor, anyway."

Considering the fact that Michael's the kid of the guy who started the company in the first place, he knows why the animatronics used to free-roam. First it was the springlock suits, which meant they were walking around with people in them, and then the older models, and the Toys, but after the Bite, they removed the daytime free-roam protocols... So why leave them on at night?

Sure, a lot of the nighttime movement wasn't because of the bots' programming – thanks, kiddos – but if they were, as he'd said, bolted to the fucking floor ... he thinks a lot of things would be a whole lot safer for a select few people. Cough cough, them and the rest of the night-guards. And probably the maintenance techs, too, now that he thinks about it.

It's not really a serious question. But it's not not a serious question. He really does want to hear Steven's opinion on the matter — or at least hear how he tries to rationalize it all. Because he highly doubts Steven knows about the robots being haunted.