The Pizzaplex closed its doors at midnight. To the public, the glitz lowered down into only the overhead lighting of the myriad security offices and a few kitchen corners where the lowest on the hiring totem pole worked into the late hours of their shifts to clean up from the business of pizzas and fountain sodas. And the soft LED mood lights in their many colors-mimicking neon but not so fragile, dangerous, or expensive. But those did not provide much light, only enough to keep one's footing. Music usually stayed on-what music wasn't produced by the Glamrock Band's nighttime practicing-but otherwise the sprawling compound became a shimmery, darkened empty space. A lot of space.

A lot of vertical space.

The Daycare Attendant's internal chronometer chimed and roused it from its nightly charging cycle at exactly 12 a.m., and when its eyes kicked back online the friendly backlit facade of its eye protectors remained dark and transparent to an onlooker. In Security Mode, only the eerie blood-red pinprick of its light sensors remained lit and marked where its pupils-or rather, lenses-were pointed. There was now no mistaking if it could see you, or if it was eying you. The darkness of the 'Plex meant Moon mode was active; with Moon-mode's gracile movements, it rose from the cushion in its storage room and clambered through the exit. It had a good idea where it wished to patrol first.

From a ventilation grate in one of the daycare hall's restrooms it contorted and scuttled until it was peeking down through the gaps in a grate overlooking the main security hub. Slower, slower... the closer it came to the overhead view of the night-shift security guard the more incremental its scoots forward. Careful. Mustn't jingle too much. Mustn't scrape metal-on-metal too much. She'd hear it-she'd hear it well before it was ready to be heard. Red eyes gleaming, it was grateful for Security Mode's temperament settings-so much easier to restrain the urge to unleash wild snickering.

She flinched. Moon froze. There it was-she began the slow revolution in her office chair as she started to lower the pamphlet of paperwork to the desk top. Her eye landed right on the gaps in the vent grate, and now Moon couldn't help but giggle. No doubt she could see them up there, bright glowing red eyes staring out and watching her for god knew how long.

"Um..." She started to stand up, one hand fumbling at her belt for the flashlight clipped there. "...Hello?"

Giggling harder, and now also the rhythmic tip-tap-tap-tap of its fingers drumming on the metal with suppressed glee. She stood all the way up, shining the light up towards it.

"I hope to God you're a friendly..." She was certainly sounding spooked now. Moon's mechanical eyelids drooped, an expression of triumph, as it raised a hand to softly push the pre-loosened vent grate open. It swung gently like a window in a slight wind-she startled back, raising the flashlight like a club. "Oh, shit-oh, fuck-"

The Moon dropped down and landed on one palm atop the now-vacated office chair, and its hip joint swiveled about to face in the natural direction once more. As it turned itself right-side up again, it simply passed over the responsibility of balancing on the seat from its one hand to its two slippered feet. It crouched, frog-like, facial disc rotating a touch to imitate the innocent way a dog might give its master a questioning stare, "What language."

"You..." the guard took another step back, but seemed relieved this robotic entity hadn't launched itself at her face yet. She was the new one, but she did seem to realize now what character this was. Though clearly mind-boggled by the behavior such a character displayed. "You are creepy as hell, you know that?"

It snickered softly and to her further bemusement seemed to lift its chest portion up a bit higher, face revolving several times over before settling back into a normal position. "Where are you supposed to be at this hour?" she asked, though not daring to come any closer just yet. "How did you get in the vents?"

"Patience, patience..." Moon chuckled. "All in due time. First we should introduce ourselves." Its jointed neck lifted its eye level much higher than the security guard expected-exactly meeting her own even despite its crouch in the small chair. "It would be polite."

"You first," she commanded, and the robot's legs straightened somewhat as it shuffled from the chair. Red sensors still locked to her eyes.

"I am the Daycare Attendant," it purred, laying a hand on its chestplate. It pointed the other to her, "You may call me what you like-so long as you call me a friend. I'm here to help you. It's after closing hours. My security mode is activated from now until 6 a.m." It tilted its head the other direction, coming a step closer. With a glint of curiosity its gaze finally broke from her face and scanned over the breast pocket area of her uniform, over the badge clipped there, "I was informed you'd be new here tonight, though I don't know your name. What is it?"

"Vanessa. Please stop staring at me like you're gonna drag me back through those vents to your sewer clown lair or something."

"Uhu... Uhuhuhu..!" Perhaps Vanessa here had expected the jester-like thing half-hunched before her to be offended by this, and so she blinked in confusion and backed another step straight into one of the posters tacked to the wall as it began to shake in a hysterical, low giggling fit. Once it had contained itself enough, it peered back over towards her, red beads of light flicking to either side periodically as requested, but shining somewhat brighter: "Uhehe... that's a new one! 'Sewer Clown', hmm-it has the correct flavor to it. Though I will humbly request that one in particular not become a casual nickname."

"I... sure." Vanessa lowered the flashlight. What in the actual hell-for either an obstinate vent-crawling prankster or a Security robot, she was not expecting anything close to this laidback. There was probably-ah, no, correction:-there was definitely something scrambled with its coding. "Er... you can... just say if you didn't like that. I'm not so weak you can't tell me so."

"No, no-" It's lower eyelids hiked up behind the clear lens protectors, half-blotting the red sensor lights, "It was very funny, I thought. It just wasn't quite my brand, new friend."

"And your 'brand' is..?" Traumatizing children, she guessed internally. It struck her in that moment and she felt herself sweating in sympathetic horror and embarrassment at the idea: This thing watched the toddlers during the day. This thing did. She jolted in place as it made a fluid surge upwards to full height-demonstrating for her its 'brand': Its long-fingered hands gripped on each side of the overhead ventilation structure and it seemed to float upwards from the ease with which it lifted. Once gripped on the ceiling, its arm sockets completely swiveled backwards and rendered its bent legs and torso upside-down.

"More like this." Its voice was still low, but fluttered slightly with a barely-repressed urge to go full sing-song. Moon's face rotated until it was rightside-up again to meet Vanessa's widened green eyes and noticeably paled features. "Your predecessor had a very good nickname for it. 'Roof Gremlin', she called it. That one is much more accurate," It giggled again. "And I'm particularly fond of it, too."

"And I can call you a literal gremlin," she began to cross her arms. She began to sense-much like with a flesh-and-blood clown-that perhaps she should not take this gangling creature's unintended menace so seriously. "And get away with it?"

It nodded, almost eagerly. She sighed. Maybe this was a good thing after all?

"Well... at least I won't really be alone on this shift." Moon paused its subtle, continuous movements. Alone on this shift-that was strange, completely unlike prior nights stretching as far back into its memory as it possessed. Worrying. It silently modified some loose data into a reminder within its internal chronometer to investigate the matter further in the daytime. "I need to cover a lot of ground and, frankly, I actually am kinda confused why they would only have one guard for an entire eight-hour shift." She scoffed. "Especially in a place this big. So... you help?"

"I help," It flipped its legs down, dangling a few feet over the floor. "Where would you like me to investigate first?"

She squinted, "Hm. Well, from the look of you, maybe the backstage areas should be first. You probably already know how to reach all that scaffolding around the stage lights... Report back to me in an hour, okay? I'll be in the lobby area checking the shops."

It nodded once more, chuckling to itself. And staring. And grinning, as ever.