Mable: Here we are! Oh, we're getting so close to the release of Sister Location. I'm actually more excited now than I was for both FNAF 3 and 4, maybe because of this story and what I can do post-game. ^-^ Anyway, anyway, here we are with the chapter. I hope you enjoy!
Can't Go Home Again
Chapter Twenty-Three
It had been a few weeks since the trip to Chipper's and since then things had progressed dramatically. After getting ahold of the new building, they began renovations on the Pizzeria immediately. The first step had been to hire workers to build the stage, tear down the prize room doorway to build an archway, and to put in a counter. Once they had finished, the rest of the work was delegated to the three co-owners of the new Pizzeria. Thankfully, the building was mostly ready to return to being a restaurant and most of the things that needed done were things they could handle.
It was the late afternoon, though from how dark it was outside one wouldn't be able to tell, and the day had been devoted to work. Already they had put the wallpaper up; above the chair rail circling the wall they had put wallpaper depicting the ocean and sky, below it was wallpaper that looked like wood, thus giving the illusion of being on a boat. The prize corner had been wallpapered with lighthouse wallpaper instead. They had also moved in the security cameras and started moving in some equipment, like an arcade cabinet that was in working condition.
Mike was currently fiddling with and plugging in some sort of music player that had been found in the warehouse. Once he managed to get it to come on, it started to blare out a music box version of 'Pop Goes the Weasel'. One that sounded suspiciously like the one Marionette would emit. He stopped the music and sent a playful smile back to Marionette, who was sitting on the prize corner's new counter. Marionette and Foxy were mostly brought to the new Pizzeria to become familiar with it. Foxy especially as he was intending to live there.
"Hey, look. It's our song," Mike lightly teased. He could already see Marionette's fingers tapping in a seemingly agitated way. However, by now Mike had figured out that it was an effect of music. Like the music box would put him to sleep, and possibly other renditions of 'My Grandfather Clock', this song would send Marionette into an excitable state. Maybe this was why the puppet occasionally jumped to playing the song. By now Mike recognized it more through excitement than through possible aggression of any kind.
"Let's see what else we have," Mike murmured in an almost challenging way, turning it back on and starting to flip through the songs. Marionette chirped right back, "Oh, but aren't you supposed to be helping Fritz? Slacking, Mr. Schmidt, I am asham-." His voice cut off with a glitch sounding noise as a new song started playing. "What is this? I had to have heard it somewhere before," Mike remarked with a smirk, obviously bluffing, as he looked to see the reaction that he would get. The sound was clearly just a music box version of London Bridge.
"Really, I don't know what sort of reaction you're looking for," Marionette remarked, gesturing an arm towards Mike. "If I reacted to every song in a unique way I would never be able to listen to music!" He shrugged dramatically. "And there are much more important things we could be doing. Need I remind you that we're not finished?" Marionette finished as he gestured the other arm to the rest of the room. Mike stared for a few seconds before the smirk returned, "Do you usually move your arms this much?"
"Of course I do. I'm extremely dramatic with my movements. That's what puppets do," Marionette insisted, but Mike noticed how his arms and hands were fidgeting now that he wasn't moving them. The security guard turned in his crouching position so that he could sit against the wall. "So let's try to figure out where the sense in this is… So did London Bridge play when you were just coming out of the box, after Pop the Weasel?" The puppet got a look to show how unimpressed he was, not answering as he lightly rocked in place.
"No, okay, so… Was there some sort of London Bridge special or something? Maybe during happy hour; people were falling down drunk, you were catching them?" The second he asked this, it abruptly came to Mike. A wider smile appeared, completely amused, "Wait, no, I get it. Let me guess; this is the music that would play when you handed out gifts." Marionette's look shifted slightly, as though he was looking off to the side. This confirmed his suspicion and Mike couldn't hold back a brief bit of laughter. "Oh that's cute, we've got to play this more often. The kids will love watching you seize."
"Just turn it off," Marionette fussily commanded. Mike did as told and Marionette's arms relaxed again. "You may find it funny, Mike, but you don't know what it's like to act like a fool depending on what music is playing. The sleeping trouble, the arms, don't even get me started on what happens when the closing theme plays." As he expected, Mike was suddenly fiddling with the stereo. This time Marionette had a smug tone, "Don't even bother, it's not on there! They used to play it over the intercom. Better luck next time."
"I will find this song, mark my words," Mike swore. He then leaned and called out the doorway, "Hey, Fritz, what was the song that-?" Suddenly all the lights in the restaurant died and Mike abruptly fell silent. He already knew it was caused by the same thing causing the darkened skies outside; a thunderstorm had moved in and was preparing to unleash its full potential. He paused and then looked back to the puppet. "Just for my general curiosity; you don't, like, break into a frenzy and eat people when the power dies, right?"
Marionette chimed in amusement, "Oh no, Mike. I save that for the birthday parties!" Mike decided to ignore the stereo and stood, heading towards the door and looking out. Fritz was midway through unfolding a table in the dark when Mike called to him. "We don't have a generator here, do we?" Fritz shook his head, "I'm afraid not. Since we're sort of limited, mind helping me move the arcade cabinet in before it rains?" Mike agreed eagerly and hurried out with him to the Freddy van. It was already starting to sprinkle.
"I can't believe this; it's not even raining yet," Mike muttered as he brought around the dolly to tote the arcade cabinet into the restaurant. "With our luck, we're just in the eye," Fritz remarked as he shoved the arcade cabinet out from inside the van and then struggling to lower it onto the dolly. Somehow the two managed to do this easily enough and rolled it into the pizzeria. They moved it into the designated 'arcade area', which was actually just a corner of the main room that was further from the stage.
They sat it against the wall and Fritz began to fiddle with the power cord. "I don't think that's going to work," Mike pointed out as he turned to face the others. Foxy was fussing around on the stage, fiddling with the Pirate Cove curtains hanging there. Marionette was floating around with a small stack of children drawings, looking for something. Mike had a feeling he knew what he wanted and headed off to their box of supplies, returning with a roll of tape. "Here. This might help," he offered and Marionette accepted it.
"Thank you. I was just thinking that maybe putting these up would ease some of the children. Children are so easily influenced by the fun of other children," Marionette quipped as he taped a scribbled picture of Foxy on the wall. He brought out another one, one of himself, and started to tape it when Mike stopped him. "Hold on, we've got a problem. This one says 'Freddy Fazbear's Pizza' on it," he pointed out. He looked to the stack, hoping to find a better one, but it soon became apparent that more than one of the posters were imprinted with the Pizzeria's title.
"Yeah, this is not going to work. The last thing we need is some parent actually putting together that we are connected with Freddy's." The puppet didn't look convinced, "But they won't realize that when they see we have the same curtains, same tables, same tablecloths, and the same Fox?" If anything, he was extremely amused while the security guard was less than such. "I'll just scribble it out. Or better yet, it's on the bottom of the posters; I'll just cut it off. Nobody will even notice!" He handed over the posters and floated off.
"There should be scissors in that box," Mike pointed out and then began to cycle through the posters. Regardless of them having the other Pizzeria's name, the idea did make a lot of sense. He looked to the picture of Marionette; it was of the puppet kneeling and handing a gift to a child. "I wonder if he misses it. I sort of assumed the animatronics would hate tending to kids all the time, but he seems pretty excited about all of this… Hey, at least that means they're not stuck doing this for us alone." The black and white animatronic returned.
"This is pretty close to the real thing," Mike remarked. "But it's missing all the pink." Marionette smiled regardless, but seemed a little confused, "If you mean my lips and cheeks, they're red, not pink." He took the poster and began to snip off the name of the restaurant. "I'm looking at then right now, Mari. They're pink." The animatronic dismissed it quickly as he taped the poster to the wall, low enough to not give away the 'ocean' illusion. "They only look pink in this light. I promise you, they're more red than pink…. And, done!"
The poster was now secured beside the Foxy one. He looked over the two with a more eager smile and grabbed the third one. "If that's the case, then your paint's fading," Mike spoke as he studied Marionette's face a little more closely. "I'm guessing the pink was painted on and isn't an actual separate piece, right?" The puppet casually reached upwards and brushed his cheek. It had been a long time since he had concerned himself about how presentable he was. Recently it had been the last thing on his mind, but now it did return to his thoughts.
"I may need to repaint it. I haven't had a new coat since… Goodness, it had to be right before one of my last parties." Remembering back, he knew for a fact that it had been his father who applied the paint. Nobody else in the restaurant wanted to get that close. The only reason Marionette knew, though, was because the music box had wound down while his father was finishing the job. Of course, Marionette didn't react in any way, but he had felt especially confident performing that day with his colors brightened.
"I could do it," Mike offered. Before Marionette could accept of object, he mostly looked over with a slight tinge of surprise, Mike turned back to Fritz. "Do we have any sort of paint?" Fritz wasn't very visible in the shade behind the cabinet, still fiddling with something, "It's in the van!" With that, Mike was off to the van. By now the clouds had opened and it began to downpour outside. As such, Mike returned quickly with a plastic container filled with pain tubes and supplies, already partially drenched. "The lights have been off for, what, ten minutes and it only now rains?"
Mike headed back towards the Prize Corner, beckoning Marionette. "It'll be easier if you're sitting down, so the counter seems like the best option." Once in the Prize Corner, Mike turned on his flashlight and tried to figure out where he was going to set it down or if he was going to have to hold it. Marionette sat down on the counter attentively, "I appreciate this, Mike, but you don't have to do this if it's going to make you uncomfortable." Mike got a reassuring smile and flashed it to the puppet.
"I think once you get to the point that we are we can handle it. I'm painting your face, not hotwiring you…" Mike then got a suddenly thoughtful look, narrowing his eyes a bit. "…But I probably could do that." Marionette chimed in amusement and waved him off, "Don't get any ideas, Mike." Mike then followed with a smirk, "Then again, if I really wanted that much control then I'd get your cross out of your box." Marionette gasped in mock surprise, clasping his cheeks in horror, "You wouldn't!"
"I will if you touch your face again. I don't know if this stuff with stain fabric, so once it gets on you can't touch anything until it's dried." He took a stained paper plate out of the supplies. Apparently it had been used before as a makeshift palate, and Mike used it to mix some of the bright red and softer pink colors into the appropriate hue. Once he was sure it matched well enough, he brought it over and sat it on the counter. "Since I'm going to have to hold the flashlight with my free hand, you're going to have to stay as still as you can."
"I think I can manage," Marionette remarked as he watched Mike find an appropriate paintbrush, point it with his lips, immediately cringe at a taste, and then dip it in paint on the plate. Before he could get started, he abruptly changed plans. "Wait… How about you hold the light like you held the camera. It'll give you something to do," Mike offered and the puppet silently agreed, aiming the flashlight towards himself. Nothing felt strange to him about this. Not the light, not the paint, not when Mike grasped his shoulder, and not from him being awake.
And then came that first stroke of the paintbrush over his right cheek. What should've been a simple motion felt strangely precise. Of course, his face was always sensitive, but the dragging of the bristles over his porcelain made him want to shiver. He didn't do it, he held out as Mike continued to fill in his cheek with a fresh layer of paint. The security guard didn't notice anything at all and was simply focused on the task at hand. He applied cold glob of paint from re-dipping the paintbrush, then worked to spread it over the porcelain.
The soft motions finally finished and gave Marionette only a moment of respite. In only a moment, Mike was now at the other cheek. Once again the pattern repeated and Marionette forced himself to stay calm. He had never had to struggle so hard to stay still. Part of him was half willing to call it off and ask Mike to put him under for it. He would make an excuse about the coldness, or perhaps just the awkward situation, or just anything. Yet he couldn't even speak; the only think that wouldn't disrupt anything and he couldn't do it.
The flashlight light trembled in his hold. This was finally noticed by Mike, "Everything okay?" It was so easy to say 'no', so easy, and yet his voice betrayed him. "I was distracted. It's fine, keep going," Marionette insisted. So Mike did, not noticing anything, and continued to paint his other cheek. The brush strokes were soft and precise, and Mike was clearly trying to make it look good. Just knowing he cared that much did delight the puppet; he was glad to have his trust rewarded like this. However, the stifled sensation continued to progress.
Then Mike moved to the last section that needed to be painted. He moved his hand from the puppet's shoulder lift his face. "It's not much longer. I'm almost there," Mike promised. Now he was noticing discomfort, but saw it through his head shifting downwards and his upper body leaning back a little. He assumed that between the motion and the telekinesis, he was becoming either bored or tired. Mike looked more intently as he raised the paint brush to the lower lip, slowly starting to paint it. This was the last spot; he had to be careful.
Marionette could barely stand sitting still at this point. The touch on his mouth was indescribable, he couldn't even tell what exactly it felt like. Either way, he could feel something winding inside, maybe his strings. He knew his pulse would be racing if he had one and he fought back the urge to produce music, to outburst in some way and stop the sensation. Yet he was now held still by Mike's hand and he couldn't move again or he would feel it. Yet he almost did when suddenly the lights all came back on.
The Prize Corner was alit once more, which only made Marionette's hold on the flashlight shiver. Mike's smile returned, "Only a few minutes too late. You can just set the light down; I'll get it in a minute." The puppet attempted to do so, but as the paintbrush stroked over his porcelain face he released his hold on the flashlight, which fell to the floor with a soft clanging. Mike's eyes slid to the side as though partially interested, but he didn't even decide to look back. He instead watched his work, "We're almost done."
Marionette was pretty certain that Mike talking was making it so much worse. He couldn't help but stare at him, knowing that if he moved at all that Mike would have to notice something was wrong. They were stuck in such a close position, where the human would be able to see any subtle differences on his face, in his motions, which left him mostly transparent. The hand on his face was both a comfort and made the feeling more intense, making him feel a bit more trapped. It was so claustrophobic, even for someone living in a box.
He lost what control he had and grasped onto Mike's wrist, on the arm that was holding his face still, which had only recently been revealed again from his cast being removed. His black fingers tightened their hold in a desperate fashion and clung to the comfort that came to move. Mike didn't seem bothered by it. In fact, his grasp eased just a little while he quickened his pace through the last section of the painting. Then came the last stroke of the brush and the task was finished. Mike set the paintbrush aside, turned Marionette just a little to check the color in the light, and smiled confidently.
"Alright, we're done," Mike announced. His now free hand grasped Marionette's shoulder to keep him from toppling. "That wasn't so bad, was it? It looks a lot better… It still looks pink, but it's easier to see." There was a cheekiness in his voice and Marionette seemed to recover quickly. "We'll just see about that whenever I can find a mirror. It feels like everything is where it should be," he pointed out. "Just make sure it dries or it's going to smear," Mike warned, giving a pat on the shoulder and pulling back once again.
"I'm going to go put this back, unless you need anything else painted." Mike gathered the supplies and started out of the room. "There's mirrors in the bathroom if you want to check." Then he stepped out and headed off somewhere. The second he was gone, Marionette slouched forwards, a hand clutching his chest over his buttons. He let his body shiver and tremble, though the sensation was much less prominent. He frantically went through his thought, assessing what he could about himself, and struggling to figure out how and why he had acted so oddly
It couldn't be the face painting. Painting couldn't bother him like that, he assumed. It wasn't as though he hadn't been painted before. Music box or not, the action shouldn't have been so jarring…Unless it wasn't the action, but Mike himself. Marionette disproved this thought almost instantly; he was too close to Mike to be rendered in such a state by something as simple as this. He raised his hand, only remembering at the last second that his paint was still wet and tugging it away. He was just so flustered and couldn't understand how to deal with it.
Shortly, Marionette recovered enough to drag himself out of the Prize Corner and enter back into the main dining room. This effort was rewarded with insight onto what Mike and Fritz were now talking about. "But her family used to own a restaurant, so if she's going to be working here she might be able to set us up with a cook," Mike explained to the technician. Marionette didn't have to even hear the entire conversation to know he was talking about Natalie. Maybe it was the previous frazzled behavior talking, but he was rather unconvinced by the idea.
"I might give her a call then… But first, I need to move in the rest of the stuff. The van's not exactly leak proof," Fritz headed to the door to do so, starting to move stuff in. The puppet confronted Mike, his arms cross casually while his voice held a heavy suspicion. "I'm sure she's wonderful and everything, but don't you think it's a little risky bringing her in on our affairs?" Mike quipped a brow, but didn't exactly look surprised that Marionette had complained. "Why? You have a problem with Natalie?... I mean, more than you do with everyone else."
"Oh no, Natalie's fine." Natalie wasn't fine. "It's her father getting involved. To be blunt, if he starts coming around trying to attack people, then I'm going to have to kill him." He said it straight, like someone would say a sort of joke. It absolutely was not a joke. Though before Mike could respond, Marionette was abruptly reminded that Foxy was still there. "Was she the Lass whose house we were at?" Foxy inquired, seemingly more distracted by the arcade cabinet. This caught Mike's attention immediately. "You went to her house?"
"I didn't do anything. We were just passing through and I was curious," Marionette shrugged off. "Nobody saw me, nothing happened." This didn't sate Mike and he gave a disappointed look, but he moved on to the more important matter. "You knew we were going to have to hire more people. Not that many more, but getting someone here who know how to run an actual restaurant and someone else who can cook is important." Again, Marionette seemed to shrug it off, "I could do it in my spare time. I can cook."
"You can bake," Mike corrected. "…But actually, yeah, I'll leave the baking to you. I've become addicted to the five o'clock sugar rush I get from your cupcakes." He knew exactly what he was doing and knew, when he could hear lighter tone from Marionette's voice, that he could probably pacify him. Regardless of the jokes, Mike did know how to pull Marionette's strings a little bit. As long as the puppet didn't feel too left out he was sure he would be able to get him more comfortable. It worked enough with Jeremy and Fritz.
"Thank you. I know what I'll be doing tonight," Marionette remarked. He then paused and sighed in defeat. "I shouldn't be acting like this when you just went out of your way to help me. Fine, I have no problem with Natalie working here… Just keep in mind that she will figure out what's going on." Mike decided not to mention how much he told Natalie about. It just seemed like an inappropriate time. "And her father could get involved again. Especially if you hand out jobs to her family members. He might be trouble."
"I'll handle it. It's not like he can really do anything, and if he does I'll take care of it. And if anyone else figures out about us… I'll just have to tell them that Scary Mari the puppet lives in my house and spends his free time robbing graves with Foxy the Pirate," Mike swore with a playful smile. Marionette wasn't fully calmed, so he took a more serious tone. "It's not your job to worry about that, alright? You're going to have enough to deal with when you're surrounded by fifty kids who all want free stuff." This worked a little better.
Fritz came back inside then, soaking wet and carrying more stuff. "I'm going to need a little help," he requested. Mike didn't need to get any more hints and headed over to help the other man. Marionette watched him leave, still feeling torn between the odd painting feeling and the Natalie situation. Something was definitely changing and Marionette wasn't sure if he was comfortable with whatever it was. "Look at this," Foxy beckoned him over to the arcade machine. Marionette didn't know if he had turned it on or if it came on by its own.
He remembered the game 'Sit N' Survive' from years before. It was one of the few arcade games that actually gave out prize tickets, though getting tickets out of it was incredibly difficult. The game had been notorious for its spike in difficulty, so it was a miracle that it was the one that had survived. Marionette always assumed someone would 'accidently' throw a brick through its screen. Or that children would eventually mob it and drain it of whatever tickets it kept hostage.
"How long's it been since we've played this?" Foxy asked nostalgically as he started to fiddle with the controls to check the high score. He somehow was able to handle the controls even with a hook. The high scores had unsurprisingly been erased. "Ah, I lost a trove of tokens to this game back in the day…" he glanced around, seemingly looking to see if any coins or tokens were left out. "Be a good lad and help me find some." Marionette could only chime in amusement and headed off to do as asked. At least it would keep him distracted.
Next thing he knew, he was halfway through a box by the back door, finding nothing that would even pass as a token. Mike kept bringing things in, but it didn't necessarily help. "Care to switch?" Mike eventually stopped to ask. Marionette turned his head wearily, though still had his usual smile. He basically gave a silent 'no', and Mike reacted by reaching into the box he was carrying and revealing a plastic bag that was clearly full of tokens. "But I have my price, you know. You got your freebee with the painting."
Marionette wasn't sure why, but Mike reminding him of the event only sent an awkward pang of embarrassment through him. He gave a vocal sigh and placed his hands on his hips, "What do you want?"
"You know what I want," Mike coaxed. Unfortunately, Marionette did know, "It's 'Les cloches du Monastere' and I dance for the children." He reached out his hand and Mike handed over the bag of tokens. "You're lucky I'm not going to remember that for more than a few minutes," Mike added in before watching Marionette float off in the direction of Foxy. Then, after setting down the box, he made a beeline directly for Fritz to inquire about the song. It wasn't like they would be able to work much longer; the power would probably die again any second.
Mike assumed that he needed to enjoy it while it lasted.
Mable: You know, sometimes it's best to assume the worst. You never know when you're suddenly going to be stuck for twenty plus hours without power. XD Ah, living in the woods has its perks. Heck, last week the electric went off and it wasn't even storming! Anyway, the next chapter will be posted as soon as I can finish it. I hope you enjoyed!