I Don't Own Fnaf
The weeks had passed without much in the way of being able to get anything done, it was almost annoying, at least it would have been if Goldie wasn't too busy to think. Somehow, for some reason, it was like the entire world decided that this was the time to come to the Cove, the entirety of the first two and a half weeks of January of 1993 had the Cove flooded with brats of all shapes and sizes.
Foxy and Marionette clearly enjoyed the explosion in the population of children to entertain, and the human staff, while being run into the ground, were also very relieved about the amount of business they were getting. Goldie didn't really get the business side of things, no one talked to him about it, and frankly he didn't quite care about it beyond knowing it was important to keep the lights on. Money had never factored into his life before and frankly he still wasn't really sure how it interacted with it now, but at least it seemed like things were going good on that front.
But that didn't change the fact he didn't really get the business side of things and he didn't quite like the entertaining side enough to be anything close to energized from it.
Meaning Goldie was just worn out to the point of basically just collapsing at the end of every day, not having enough energy for anything else. It was almost satisfying in the way that he was sure the other two animatronics got from performing and doing a good job at their 'profession', but that didn't mean it was quite enough for it all to feel fully worth it while he had so much other stuff going on in the back of his mind.
The 'vacation' helped, more than he thought it would at least for the place he spent it in, a break from performing for more than two days at a time had been surprisingly nice even if he was busy over thinking for most of it, but being dropped back into what felt like a constant rush hour over the course of weeks left him feeling raw. Like only just being able to catch one's breath before being thrown way past the deep end without being nearly refreshed enough to handle it.
Goldie felt something in him catch at the metaphor, a memory playing in the back of his mind unprompted of his time learning to swim, of being in the public pool half scared half self-conscious about so many people around, Michael trying to be comforting and showing him but ending up more and more frustrated when all he did was whine and panic splash about. Which in turn only made Evan even more uncertain and uncomfortable to the point he nearly broke down into tears.
That was happening more and more, memories just cropping up and washing over him, he was getting better at ignoring them though, pushing the rest of the day's events away, pretending to not feel the waves of almost foreign emotions and the feelings they provoked over leaving that public pool, of being teased by Lizzy, and being bribed to not mention Michael getting in a fight with another boy in the form of ice cream.
Lizzy had been the one to blackmail it out of the eldest Afton, he didn't want to remember the awe he felt at how she managed that, or the exasperation the eldest seemed to have over it working as he was practically dragged to the ice cream truck by the two youngest.
Evan didn't want to remember that, and didn't want to recall more and more about his sister. But just like they had been with his brother, he didn't get a choice, he just had to deal with it, no matter what it did to his already exhausted mood. Instead of wondering more about it, he just moved, his body shouldn't have felt heavy but tiredness still affected animatronics in an almost unfair way similar to people, as he dropped onto the couch in his office room in the warehouse, the furniture creaking enough to let him know he shouldn't have done that, but he couldn't find it in him to care.
Grabbing the remote with his too big paws, he fumbled with it in a huff before tossing something on to distract himself with, as he stared at the tv in mild boredom, mostly just waiting for sleep to take him, it wouldn't be long, it never was the last few weeks of work, as he reached up and padded at his head for a moment before pulling the hat off of it to toss onto the nearby desk. Foxy would throw a fit if Goldie somehow crushed it while he was unconscious, not that he moved at all during his sleep, but he had slumped over once before and the idea of the pirate's whining was enough to make sure just in case something like that wouldn't happen, just in case.
Process on working on the Funtime Foxy had been slow because of the explosion of people at the Cove in recent weeks, it had honestly become more a very large and expensive decoration for the living room than anything else if Fritz was being honest, because he was much more focused on more important things. From making sure the Cove continued to function like normal, having to work in his spare time slamming his head against the wall trying to make the crank for Ennard and Scott, and as well as Janet who had been making sure he didn't overwork himself, he hadn't had time to work on it at all.
Not to say that was a bad thing, there wasn't any rush, but it was like seeing a half-finished project just right in front of him whenever he did anything, only instead of half finished it was barely even started, and that was something that weighed on Fritz way more than he wanted to admit. So here he was, on a day off that he didn't actually need to do anything, and was working on the animatronic in front of him.
It hadn't been too difficult, without a spool crank yet on hand, he had to manually do the placing and replacing of all the wires that were damaged or cut in half from inside the shell of the foxy, but it gave him something to mindlessly do, and had been one of the few mindless things that he could do in the evenings to keep his hands busy that Janet hadn't thought was him just trying to do another whole thing and ignore the need to sleep with.
Not to mention it let him gets very hands on with actually learning every aspect of the body of the animatronic and just how the funtimes worked in the first place, the shells were actually very important from what he was seeing. It wasn't like how it was with Foxy or Bonnie, who's suits were designed to basically be replaceable, honestly, if Foxy wanted to, it would only take Fritz half a week at best to completely change out his suit and then he could be a freddy, chica, or bonnie without any actual technical issues or challenges. There had been a term for that, Fritz remembered that faintly, but couldn't remember exactly what it was called in this moment, not that it really mattered to the point he was making.
Their suits were just... basically the same as clothing was for a human, it didn't really do anything for the animatronic, it was just an outer layer to give an appearance of something other than a walking endoskeleton. But that wasn't the case for a funtime animatronic, not in the slightest. The wires held all the programming and apparently the souls, but that was honestly about it, everything that made them actually work was in the shells.
The suit shells held not only the eye sockets, but as well the speakers, mics, and a number of other pieces of equipment that normally was built into the endos of the more classical animatronic models. The wires just more or less plugged in and interacted with all of the parts of the suit, while giving the wires form as well, more than anything else. Ennard realistically had to cannibalize a large number of parts and had to hold them up half tangled in the wires, to be able to do things like see and speak.
No wonder they had so many eyes just hanging around, without a suit to properly regulate and hold everything in place, who knew just how many of those eyes worked at any particular time. If it wasn't for the fact that Fritz had been told that Ennard didn't want to go into a suit, Fritz would have to say it would be easily the best option for them. As it was, he would still have to bring it up with Scott anyways. The spool crank clearly had done a lot of the heavy lifting in keeping them functioning.
There were other things as well that he figured out, the reason that the shells were metal was because of the fact that the wires were almost ridiculously fragile, like to an almost concerning level given they were supposed to be metal, but they could be snapped and pulled at with an almost ease. Fritz wouldn't say he could rip them apart or anything with just his bare hands, but doing an experiment, he could cut through the metal like it was a slightly more stubborn than normal rope. So the shells were also so thick and durable as to protect the wiring inside from outside forces while leaving the core surprisingly malleable and easy to manipulate and interact with.
It was almost as if the Funtimes, with all their segmented plating, were made to be constantly opened up, poked and prodded, with the ability to easily take and add wires. He wasn't sure he liked the kind of connotations that might mean if that really was the case, so he just did his best to not think about it too hard either and just continued with his work.
It took time, but on a very baseline level, the animatronic was very technically alright to be used, the front chest piece that had been smashed by the scooper had been an easy thing to replace, honestly, all the parts were easy to slot replacements into where they needed to go, everything simply clicking and snapping into place with an ease that Fritz had never had before when working on an animatronic. Bonnie's suit repairs had taken weeks of effort because they weren't made with the idea of repairs in mind.
The funtimes were built to be broken and repaired, it was almost disconcerting. But all of that, even if it had been as hard as it normally was, was still the easy part of all of the stuff he still needed to do. Getting rid of all the parts and leftover machinery inside of the fox that corresponded with the more... dangerous protocols and programs made with the opposite of the health and safety of children in mind, that didn't mean the programs weren't still there running in the background, and as such he needed to take a much deeper look under the hood.
And that meant having to use the handunit... Joy. The thing had almost been fine recently, like it just needed time to stop going on the fritz, as much as the man hated to use the term, but that didn't mean the thing didn't act up occasionally still... But it was the next step, not like he could plug in the normal things he used for this stuff, the devices he used to make sure everything was purged from Foxy's rudimentary programming wasn't nearly specialized or powerful enough to interact with the funtime software in any meaningful way.
He tried anyway of course.
Thankfully or rather annoyingly, or rather... he wasn't sure what really, it was a conflicting emotion, the first thing he needed to do was just plug the device up to the animatronic and let it run a scan over the entire thing, making sure all required hardware was present. The very basics of diagnostics all things considered that Fritz himself already knew was all in the right place, meaning it was just a waste of time while the thing slowly ran through a mountain of code and programs.
He left the both of the things plugged in, he was sure this was something that was supposed to be done on a much more powerful device, the handunit wasn't made for all tasks, it was just a tool to carry around to help do the basics and some heavy work if a proper terminal or machine wasn't present. And given all those kinds of machines were down in a murder bunker that had such a glaring power issue that he had given up on fixing the power terminal that Mari had practically broken when trying to get Janet out of that nightmare room... Well, he just had to make due with the handunit.
It would probably take more than a day or two, it was a lot of code. But he had put a safety net in to make sure that the foxy wouldn't actually turn on or be active after everything was set up, so he figured he could just leave the thing in the living room plugged up and just let it run for however long it took and do other things in the meantime until everything was finished running itself in the background.
Then he could finally start looking into the most specific parts of all the funtime coding and be able to see if he could figure out what were the murder programs to be able to get them removed from the wiring, because that he could already feel was going to be the biggest obstacle. If he was infinitely luckier than he was, then it would all be programs in a nice little list of headers and labels, and he could simply just delete them from the animatronic. He had the feeling that if these things made it past production, then the code was buried, much, much deeper than just labeled and ready to be removed.
But until then... he could probably go over and look and see if the spool crank prototype he had made up had anything about it he had missed the first dozen look thoughts of the plan. He was still waiting on a few very specific parts to come in to actually and fully make the spool crank, it was mostly done, right now they were just waiting on shipping of all things keeping them from getting anything really done. Then they would have a prototype and have to hope that it would just work the first time around. Unlikely, Mari's spools were unlikely to be strong enough right away, but without knowing for sure, there wasn't anything to be done until they could run said tests and basics.
Charlie was pretty sure when Michael had mentioned wanting to make the music box, it had been more a thing for him and her brother to do, she wasn't really sure why then she was sitting in the man's kitchen table, her brother at her side, close enough to peer over her shoulder, as he pointed out the number of parts laid out on the table trying to help him put it together, as Michael himself moved around in the kitchen part of the room putting some kind of lunch together.
She was thankful for it though, she really was. It had been... hard going a full week without seeing Sam, being thrusted back into normalcy of life, not feeling like she had enough right to come over and talk to Evan or the self proclaimed Foxy, and no where near comfortable enough to call up either Fritz or Jeremy to get advice about what was and was not acceptable by animatronic privacy standards.
But she couldn't, because as much as she had felt like they got along, she didn't really know any of them, not nearly well enough to just call when they were probably enjoying their own breaks. It had been a week full of trying to figure out how to return to her old normal, but she was in between classes, having already signed up for the spring term and everything, she tried to hang out with her friends, but that didn't feel right anymore either, because everything she wanted to talk about she just couldn't.
She ended up just huddled in her room for most of it in the end when she wasn't at work, uncertain of where she stood anywhere anymore but to stubborn to admit it and try and figure it out, instead working on one of few projects she had found around the house unfinished, had taken apart of the microwave and put it back together just because it had been something to do, but at least now it didn't beep so loudly anymore which was at least a bonus of a kind.
Charlie was here now though, in the kind-of-still but-not-really Afton household. Her brother was regaling her of just about everything he could think about from their trip for the second time, but she couldn't find it in her to even think about minding, instead just being more than a little enamored by just how he sounded and the way he spoke. Sam talked with his whole body now, his hands constantly in motion, his mask flickering through different emotions faster than she could keep track of, his body filled with so much energy it was like he had to keep himself sitting even somewhat still. The words punctuated by chimes of music in conjuncture of his own emotions.
It was just... catching, she couldn't help but watch and listen, seeing just how comfortable he was with himself and his own words made her chest get squeezed with emotions. Especially when she was constantly reminded of and thought about the kid Sam used to be, who was so uncertain, so unsure of himself and his own body, almost always quiet.
It wasn't new, she saw all these traits before, knew it all, had known it for a while now, but it still always just caught her in a way every single time like it was the first time that she couldn't help but give her undivided attention to what Sam did and said. Like every moment of it was precious and there was a chance she wouldn't be able to get it again. So she listened as the story of the broken down car, and the amazing stake park, and the stars again, all while helping the puppet work on the music box.
It was slow going, but it was nice as well, not just rushing through the process, going about explaining and point out pieces to Sam who when taking a break from talking, listened with a vested interest in her words about all the parts that went together to make a music box work, and how tracks could be changed out. Maybe it was because he had one of these things in his chest he was so interested, but she was kind of surprised that he didn't really seem to know much about what went on in his body.
Maybe not that surprising, if she hadn't been forced to learn during school, she wouldn't know her kidney from her spleen much less what they did or how they worked. She took a bit more time explaining whenever he seemed a bit confused or asked a question, it was nice. Even more so when a plate of food was placed in front of her as Michael slid into a nearby chair, leaning over and grabbing a random piece, a part of what was used to mount the music pick, and rolled it around in his hand for a moment. The piece was small and Michael's hands were very much not, making a strange sight as he did some kind of weird observation of the item while speaking in that mildly interested tone he occasionally took.
"So, how goes the project?" Sam spoke before she could find the words, picking up the half made item and showing it off with clear pride, pointing out and showing off just about every single piece he and Charlie had put on the thing. And given that the entire thing was just the raw parts, nothing put together beforehand, there was a lot to point out.
She found herself focusing this time around on Michael, the man just... Well, to say he had a presence would be an understatement, the sheer height of him was enough to draw eyes, without mentioning the unnatural look to him. But there were other things, the quiet certainty he had with himself was just... It was noticeable, he didn't react much to stuff, not sullen or subdued, just... Casually assured and collected, to another person it would look a lot like indifference.
It still felt like that to her sometimes, even when she knew better, he just didn't emote much, somehow being less expressive than her literal robotic brother, who's mask shouldn't change but did somehow anyways. He had a habit of just staring ahead and watching things that unfolded in front of him, during their... recap sessions with the three of them plus Evan, he mostly just sat there, not saying anything beyond adding a few details in or tossing in a lame joke that at most got a little self satisfied smug look on his face that faded soon after.
But there were moments when that colder exterior just broke apart, not much, but enough to see what was going on behind that curtain in his mind. It was rare, reserved it seemed solely for Evan and Sam, she could see it now. It was all over his face, that unrestrained fondness as Sam chatted on and on about every little thing, showing them off with pride and excitement, not even noticing anything out of place with the look.
It was weird to feel something like a third wheel to her own brother and childhood friend, but that's what it was, she and Sam could talk easier now, same with her and Michael, but those two didn't need to try, there was no hesitance or worry, they just were and not to long ago she felt like being caught in a current unable to do anything about it, being suddenly placed on the outside of the conversation.
She was used to it though, as much as she could be with how it caught her off guard, as she managed to find a way to join into the conversation soon enough, as the three of them began to start working on the music box all together. It sped the process up as much as it slowed it down.
Michael liked to make some kind of distraction with jokes as much as he was a genuine help, and Sam seemed to take the interference with a mix of amusement and exasperation that led into more than one time Charlie having to play tie breaker. It was still nice, more than that, wonderful. The more time she spent here, the more time it felt like her family really was back, not fully, to many missing pieces, but it had been more than she had in years.
The way she adjusted and grew more and more at ease with them, it felt almost easy now, not quite, maybe it wouldn't for a while yet, but it was getting there.
She secretly wished it didn't have to compromise every other part of her life it felt like, but her brother was worth it. She just had to believe her friends would agree if they knew, it wasn't much of a comfort, but it was the best she had in the moment. Instead of dwelling on the sudden thought, she just focused on the task at hand, the music box still needed to be made after all.
Jeremy wasn't sure just what changed, wasn't sure if anything changed, Bonnie didn't act differently, not really, he still ignored the man just as much as he always did, he just... didn't blow up over things either. Jeremy tried for a few conversations, but they always felt hard after a few minutes of Bonnie seemingly trying to find something to say, it was... weird, he wasn't sure the last time they talked, he wasn't sure if they ever really did have a conversation, really, with both sides wanting to have it. Bonnie had only ever seemed to tolerate him it felt like before, just listening to what Jeremy said and making the right sounds to keep him talking.
Now he... tried, as much of the word could be applied for how much it didn't seem to work, it was like he didn't know what to talk about, and to be fair Jeremy wasn't sure either, Bonnie didn't want to talk about the Cove or the other animatronics, and especially not Mike or Mari, which really left Jeremy starved for conversation points given that the Cove was basically his entire life at this point, and almost all of his friends were on the blacklist of conversation topics.
It couldn't have been easy for the rabbit either, all he did was stay home and either play games or watch tv and next to nothing else, nothing to inspire much in way of conversation. Meaning the two had practically nothing to talk about beyond things as basic as what was on tv, which Jeremy still couldn't really bring himself to watch, or whatever it was the man was making to eat at the moment, which wasn't exactly always good either because it was either ordering out or heating up leftovers that Mike liked to shove into his hands.
Not to mention it had been years probably since the last time Bonnie even had someone to talk to adding a whole other layer of difficulty. The poor kid was probably so out of practice it made Jeremy's social incompetence look almost worthwhile. Basically they were more or less stumbling through acting like almost normal people around each other, but neither qualifying enough to make it feel real. More like the two of them were trying for the motions that they thought they should be going through and not much else.
Not for the first time he wanted to ask the experts, but Mari got so sad when he talked about Bonnie, in that resigned yet hopeful way that Jeremy just couldn't bring himself to bring it up, even though the puppet had literally been mute for a decade and somehow managed to become almost chatty of all things in what Jeremy was pretty sure record time, even if it had taken the puppet months before he would actually talk to Jeremy and Fritz, he was sure he would be able to get some advice about what it was like for a conversation starved but socially uncertain animatronic learning to hold conversations. And if Jeremy thought he could probably need any tips himself that he could get, well... that was only expected, he felt like he forgot how to talk at all with others sometimes by the end of their short and halting 'conversations'.
Honestly though, there was no part of Jeremy that felt as if he was warranted to complain in any sort of way, because, frankly, awkward conversations were so so much better for so many reasons than what they had before. He wasn't sure he was comfortable with the fact that it took him having a nervous breakdown in front of the animatronic or get any progress out of their weird situation, and was very much hoping that it wouldn't be a recurring thing, because he was very sure he didn't have that much emotional durability to handle that being the requirement for them connecting.
A small mercy of it being at the very least Jeremy knew it wasn't out of pity, he wasn't sure what it was from, he had gotten to the point finally where he could basically turn the loudness of other people's emotions down to the point he didn't even really register them anymore, something that he hadn't really noticed, with it being such a gradual slowly building ability that came from nearly eight months of constant work of it slowly getting more and more quiet, but it also meant he wasn't feeling like a creep at all times, so he really didn't mind.
Anyways, the bunny wasn't pitying him so badly that he was now behaving, he took enough of a peak for that at least, because he really didn't want that to be the case, but didn't look any further than that.
So he just took it as it was and tried to not push to much while still doing his best to engage the rabbit, while admittedly, enjoying the almost heavenly eight hours of sleep he was getting nightly now. That... That might have made the nervous breakdown worth it to get sleep, he hadn't realized just how muddled and shifting everything was until it wasn't there anymore.
It was almost nice, it was awkwardly stilted and it was admittedly weird, but at the end of the day he was trying his best...
And he was getting the impression that Bonnie was too.
Scott was trying his best to figure out how to adjust his house just like he had told Fritz, but it was harder than he thought it would have been.
His house wasn't big, it was never supposed to be anything more than a place he could exist in, only him, because who in their right mind would want to share a home with him? At least he had thought so, but apparently not having a choice was the answer to that question, and even if Eggs didn't, he still wanted to make them feel... Comfortable? Safe? Not cold? He wasn't really sure, he knew he wouldn't feel any of those things for a long while once this safe place of his was... occupied by a haunted animatronic.
It wasn't fair to Eggs, he knew that, but this place...
It was safe for him, one of the only places he could imagine being safe, even on bad days where he was sure if he left his bedroom the things from his nightmares would be waiting just outside the door. And he knew no matter how much he was sure that Eggs didn't and wouldn't harm him here, that the second an animatronic of any kind was in here, he would lose that fragile sense of safety. Because then they would be outside his door, and he hated that almost as much as he hated himself for feeling that way.
He hated that he had been trying for weeks now to build up the courage to change his house, he had only gotten as far as unplugging his computer and thinking about where in the spare room he was going to set the desk to still fit everything right, but that thought, the idea of change nearly floored him. Then he started thinking about other things, where was he going to put the stuff he had in the spare room already?
The attic? It was a small space, not enough room, he'd have to get rid of some of his stuff, but what about the things he needed to get to move in? What kind of bed? Did he need a bed? What things was he expected to get? How much of it would be wanted or needed or even cared about? What if it was all for nothing? What if he changed everything and it was all for no point at all?
Where would he even begin to find the things he did need? What about the other rooms? Did he need to get locks? Should he feel awful about even thinking about locks? Did the idea that he thought he needed locks even for a moment mean he wasn't ready for this? That it was all a mistake that he couldn't take back? What if he was never ready? What if he just kept stalling and waiting like he always did, hurting those waiting for him to finally do something until they gave up on him?
He had connected his computer back an hour later after he pulled himself out of the panic attack it caused.
He needed to do something though, to at least feel like he was making progress even though he was pretty sure he was just running himself in circles until the deadline hit and Fritz was ready.
He sorted through things, moved his tapes, boxes and boxes of the things, hundreds if not thousands of hours at this point of calls recorded and messages given, that he hated to look at but couldn't dare risk throwing away, into his garage, in a back little corner that he hoped would be good enough. Resented himself that he wanted them to be safe, the things were a symbol of everything wrong in his life, and he wanted to make them safe?
He ignored that and continued to do other things, picked up, cleaned up, it had been months since he last really cared about the state of his place, what it looked like, and beyond the hot shame that came from the one time someone had been over in that time, Fritz looking to help, made him motivated enough to at least finally pick up after himself more.
The hardest part had been the lawn, he had a lawn, a small one but one all the same, he had a mower, he could cut it himself, he knew he could, the fall and winter thankfully had killed off all the major growths, the way to long grass, but other things still stayed, things that required going out with clippers and work. He had those too, wasn't sure why, he wasn't even sure if he had ever used them, but he had them, and he... Didn't want to look like he was a wreck of a human being, not at that moment.
Not in the moments that made him step outside and stay outside for more than the second it took for him to get to his car, he lasted ten minutes before he saw someone walking down the street. He was back inside before they even had the chance to notice and wave at him. People of all things shouldn't be scary, he had seen things so much worse, strangers shouldn't leave him a nervous wreck.
But he had seen a lot of strangers during his time at Freddy's, had seen so many with hopeful eyes at an easy night shift job, and saw those stranger's lifeless eyes the night morning. He couldn't handle strangers. He couldn't handle his neighbors, he could barely handle accepting mail or going shopping. But he had to make something close to progress.
He was out an hour later, he lasted twenty minutes this time, he managed to knock down a dead bush that had been too stubborn to wither properly even in mid January weather, he had no idea what to do with it after, where to move it, leave it, or something else all together. He left it there when he went back inside and hoped it would be gone soon.
He didn't have a reason for going back in so soon this time, he just couldn't stand being outside for that long, like the back of his neck down to the base of his spine was buzzing with something he couldn't point out.
Scott would do more later, but in that moment he needed a break, as he consulted his plans again, trying to figure out what else he could do that wouldn't cause him a panic. Maybe actually sort through the spare room which he had used mostly for storage and figure out just what he could do without? He didn't like the idea of being a hoarder even though he knew he kind of was. Maybe it would be good for him to actually figure out and rationalize it all in a way that didn't feel so pressing.
Spring cleaning, that's all it was, much too early in the year maybe, but... it made it seem less daunting. Something almost normal.
Almost normal was about as much as Scott could manage, but he could manage it.
It went slower than he wanted it to, the third week of January being taken almost fully with the slow and embarrassingly fragile shifting through things Scott didn't even know he still had. At some point over the years of living in this house he must have taken to just tossing things into the room and letting them stay there, buried over time by the next series of things he tossed in without a second thought.
He honestly couldn't remember the last time he took something out of the room now that he was thinking about it. He ignored how that made him feel and instead went through it all slowly but steadily, making a list as he went about things that he could, and really should have, moved into his attic, and while others he should have gotten rid of a long time ago.
A lot of it just stayed in the middle of the lists, of that nebulous state of him not waiting to part with it but not having any reason to hold onto it either, not being important enough to take up the small space he had in the attic that was taken up by the important things he still had.
He ended up shoving it all into boxes and hauling them slowly and a bit painfully into the living room, up against the wall, unsure what to do with them, but deciding that them not being in the store room was good enough for the time being as a step in the right direction. Maybe he could rent a storage locker? If he felt bold enough he could ask Michael if he could even rent one of those massive metal containers out that the man had in the warehouse he owned. It wasn't like he really needed that much space.
Shelving the thought because that felt a bit too much like Michael doing a favor for him when he was pretty sure he was about a dozen deep in owing in the other direction, Scott instead just took the moment to look over his own handy work, after a full day of effort, now well into the evening.
He was... proud? Maybe not the best word for it, but he liked that he had managed something, had done something. He didn't like it at the same time, letting the house go had been easy, to easy, the changes to it had been slow, gradual, a can left out, a box left opened, the dust building up until it bunched itself into the corners, but cleaning it had been fast, to fast, it was sudden and sharp. But it felt... tangible as well.
A good kind of bad, if there even was such a feeling, settling in his gut, pride and discomfort warring and he was unsure which was in focus, but it was... Better. He felt like he had actually done something, hadn't stalled as much as he could have, had just... done it. He hadn't... He wasn't sure the last time he accomplished anything real was.
The feeling stuck in his chest for a long moment, until he jumped nearly out of his own skin at the sound of a ringing phone, as he glanced around for a moment, the sound muted enough that her quickly realized it was coming from his office line, as he took a deep moment to compose himself, as he moved into the room quickly, not having time to see the number with how long it took him to get there in spite of his rush, as he reached down and plucked the phone off the hook as he spoke into the line.
"Hello? Hello hello?" The line was silent for a long moment before a voice came back in response, and with it Scott's heart dropped.
"Hey Scott... I was really hoping you wouldn't pick up" It felt like his voice had faded away in a crack of nothingness, he felt frozen, as with a long tired sigh, the voice continued, "I... need some help with a... well, I'm sure you can guess"
Scott wanted to scream, to hang up, to do so many things, but instead he just found himself stuck there, as the man over the line continued to speak, as Scott was unwillingly to do anything but still forced to listen... As the manager of the last Freddy's spoke over the line about needing help to get the next one up and running.
There were a lot of words that were being said, but the only thing that really registered to the man was the fact he was being told his death sentence.
Oh... So that's the heavy shit I've been mentioning would be coming up soon... Fifteen chapters and a new Freddy's on the horizon... Eh, I'm sure it'll be fine, nothing to worry about. I'm sure it'll go... fine.
This chapter was one of those hyper segmented, about a thousand words per POV kind of one which is good and kind of required, setting the stage of where all our lovely cast are currently sitting at with their personal situations and all from the break I so generously gave them to make sure this hurt as much as possible... I'm totally a good person to the characters I write.
Anyways, beyond the bomb at the end of the chapter, there was some good ol' fashioned character development as well which was nice to see. Jeremy and Bonnie are slowly actually beginning to get along which is good. Scott is trying his best, and while it's not easy, he is trying and then there's Charlie... She's a very difficult character to write for if I'm being honest, kind of awkward to try and fit the vision for her I have. In the books, she's... kind of a bland character, all of them really are to be honest, at least in my opinion, and all my personal Charlie head canons have been shoved onto her brother, given he's the puppet here and therefore get's the puppet head canons, which hasn't helped.
But at the same time, I kind of like it like that? She's the odd one out of the group, unsure of her place and her unwillingness to sink into the dynamic fully with everyone, instead sticking to the safety of familiar people like Mike, Mari, and occasionally Evan for as much of a grump he is. So she does always feel a bit out of place and not fully comfortable. And I think that's completely fine, it's taking her a long time and many small steps to really be able to adjust to this new information about her life and family, it makes sense it takes time to adjust. Not everyone is Michael Afton after all, and very frankly that's a good thing. She's very human about it all, her life had been turned up side down, people she should know are very nearly strangers, and she had next to no one she can really talk to about it but these new found not-strangers.
She's mentioned more than once about feeling kind of like a third wheel, that's because she kind of is, crashing in on the boyfriends, not that she knows that, but as well just in general, she kind of feels like the spare part that kind of just showed up and doesn't really know where she fits, if she fits anywhere at all, in the life of people she didn't even know where there to be with. More than that, she's nineteen and has lead, while not an easy life a mostly normal if tragic one, certainly not as tough nor as nearly as weird as Mari's has been, who both matured much faster as a result and still acts fairly childish at times to make up for the childhood he got robbed from having.
Meaning she's barely settled into her own self identity as a person, plenty of people feel awkward as hell with themselves in their teen years and even into their twenties, I didn't, very thankfully, but I'm also not blind to how it is either. So the whole thing is just... messy. And if I'm being honest, I like that, that kind of not quite right feeling isn't all that fun to write admittedly, but I think it very much gives the tone and characterization I'm looking for to her as well.
Oh god, I'm so sleep deprived that I only just noticed just how much I wrote about this one character and how I write them... Uh... oops? Hope no one's bored of these ranty end notes, been a bit since I really went rambling in one, sorry about that. I'll end off here then, See ya!
