DISCONNECTED.

Now it ends for all of us. Let the nightmares burn. (indie rp blog for henry emily (cassette man) from fnaf; est 6/28/19. follows back from otherworldlymuses.)

[audioprompts]

@playersoftheworld plotted for a starter ( for harald )!

[As an homage to “the man who started it all,” Fazbear Entertainment had included a more advanced artificial intelligence in their latest game, based on the creator of the franchise and the animatronics themselves. Unlike...another entity within the system, however, he wasn’t quite as advanced; programmed to introduce the player to their responsibilities, but given a bit more leeway and interactivity here and there, a bit more personality so that he wasn’t completely deadpan. The company wouldn’t want him completely listless when tragedy inevitably struck during the horrific daytime segments of their game, after all.]

[As such, when the “impossible” occurred that day -- when an actual intruder, a glitch, happened to infiltrate the simulated diner, the simulacrum didn’t know how to react. With newcomers, beta testers or players of the game, he would simply introduce them to their duties and function as a “boss” of sorts...with an unknown intrusion like this, though, how could he respond? What was he meant to do? For whatever reason, he wasn’t certain how to greet anyone who wasn’t one of his new employees or his children. And beyond that, he wasn’t certain whether he ought to be friendly with this individual.]

[Cautiously, he approached the error in the system -- in his mind, he didn’t register that the reality around him was fabricated, so he processed it as an intruder instead. Brows furrowed as he settled his eyes on the “threat,” another middle aged man like himself, and he addressed him with a healthy amount of wariness.]

-- ❝ Who...are you? Are you supposed to be here? ❞ [Even he could process that question as odd in this particular scenario, but a part of his code him, deep down, felt that this man’s presence was...wrong. He wasn’t meant to be here.]

[audioprompts]

thirddcll‌:

    Charlie shifted, still holding the gift as she looked it over once more, an elated, yet content grin on her face ( it had always looked like she was smiling anyways, she wasn’t fond of it, but she just assumed it was genes ), she kept hold of the plush gift, she really did love anything her father gave her– well and truly, though that was a faux daughter’s adoration for family in general, something that was ingrained in her, be it programming, or genuine feelings, the unaware AI couldn’t really tell much of it, regardless. All she knows is that any present from Henry was always something she cherished dearly– and it showed.

    No clue she was fabricated, no clue this was all a lie deep down– she was always mostly confused by the look in his eyes, but she never made much of a comment on it– for his sake, really ( last thing Charlie wanted to ever do was hurt one of the last close family members she had, false or not ). The least she could do now is to let the man know she was happy with things as they were– she wasn’t one who minded change, but she was content with life in general, unaware of herself being nothing but a complex lie made in grief– her and three others, but perhaps it was better not knowing, being self-aware that you’re a robot… that wouldn’t bode well for her. The best she could do right now was to make it known that she loved this gift.

    She nodded eagerly, even if she wasn’t a child anymore– she was still happy with anything Henry had given, ❝ I really do love it, dad. ❞ She assured once more, looking it over once more as she listened to him attentively, smile still on her face as she ran a thumb along the soft casing of the toy– little kid or teen, it was always nice to look into something new, she looked to him as he continued, nodding along before looking back to the toy, she could see the likeness, and the feeling of gentle, happy nostalgia registers and wells in her chest– but brighter? Charlie couldn’t help her curiosity peaking at that, eyebrows raising as she kept a little smile on her face, ❝ That so? ❞ She chimed, ❝ What does it do–? ❞ What would she need to press? To figure out what it does? She couldn’t help the excitement.

[Henry’s smile grew a bit warmer in response to her reassurance; it was always a comfort to hear his fabricated daughter’s insistence that one of her toys was beloved, that he hadn’t failed to make her a cherished companion. He could recall a time when she was much pickier about her playmates -- granted, back then, his skills were far rustier, and he didn’t have as much of a grasp on his...”new” daughter’s tastes. Wasn’t one of the first animals he’d tried a frog...? Perhaps it’d been a bit cruel of him to disassemble it in front of her after she’d expressed her distaste, too, but he didn’t register that at the time; a flawed invention was a flawed invention, nothing more. Not as precious or remarkable as his little girl.]

[That being said, he...knew that creating her was ethically wrong. By now, of course he had a grasp on that -- but he simply couldn’t let go, and there was no way in hell he could scrap any of his artificial daughters now that they were...active. He clung to her, to her memory, too much to ever be capable of that. There was a part of him that had been tempted to make himself “sleep” rather than live with what he’d created, thinking that it would be a mistake, but sitting with her now...he realized that that would’ve been worse. She was just as alive as his Charlotte had been. It was a marvel, as well as another dagger to his already grief-stricken heart.]

[Nevertheless, he directed his attention to his latest toy, a cuddly wolf, as Charlotte expressed her exuberant curiosity; her enthusiasm was almost contagious, and he chuckled to himself. This particular invention had quite a bit of variety to it, as he was about to demonstrate...he hoped she would be captivated by it. He’d put quite a bit of effort into it, even if it wasn’t nearly as complex as the animatronics ( or Charlotte herself ).]

-- ❝ As a matter of fact, it does a little bit of everything. ❞ [Henry spoke with a hint of pride, gesturing toward each part of the fuzzy automaton as he spoke. He didn’t interact with it himself; he wanted Charlotte to be the one to test it out, and he had a hunch that she would prefer it that way, as well.] ❝ If you squeeze its paw, it’ll wave; if you give it a hug, it’ll speak; and if you pet its head, it’ll howl. There’s also a way to make it walk -- just a couple of steps at a time, though -- and a few more tricks here and there, but...I think you’d have more fun trying to figure it out for yourself. What do you think? ❞

[audioprompts]

Azure Kite shuffles over to the man and gives him a big ol' hug. No words... just a hug.

[Henry blinked, completely stunned by the abrupt gesture; it wasn’t everyday that a complete stranger embraced you out of the blue, and he wasn’t certain how to respond to it. For a moment, he glanced around, wondering if this might be a case of mistaken identity -- if this was a kid who’d meant to hug someone else, a parent nearby, a sibling, something...but he couldn’t determine whether that was the case. God, this was confusing. Who was this kid? What was happening? He had half a mind to pry this kid off of him and ask what he was doing, but...]

[Maybe it was a well-intentioned gesture. Hell, it was a hug -- nothing malicious or insidious, a simple goddamned hug. And...well, Henry would be lying if he said that he didn’t need one at the moment. The events over the course of the past few weeks had left him incredibly vulnerable, and feeling a young one’s arms wrapped around him again ( even if they obviously weren’t nearly as tiny as his Charlotte’s ) made him tear up all over again. God, he missed her. He would have done anything to bring her back -- and nearly did. There were still prototypes just...sitting in his workshop, gathering dust. Each day that passed without her tempted him further to play God...]

[He sighed, bringing himself back into the present. Brows furrowed, glancing down at the boy still somehow clinging to him -- what had compelled him to do this? Was Henry’s loss and grief so apparent from a distance? Finally, he trembled, bringing himself to return the embrace. He might not have realized it, but he definitely did need something like this. A minor consolation amidst otherwise neverending strife.]

-- ❝ ...Thanks, kid. ❞

[demolitioninevitable-aa]

@audioprompts​​ >> continued from here!

☆   🍿   ☆   The macabre rabbit, now identified as Michael; stands there in the Fright in front of Henry, tilting his head to the side in confusion.

“…what… do you mean? You’re sorry?” Realization dawns on him right after he says that, previously half-lidded eyes opening fully to indicate shock. It only now occurs to Michael that, perhaps, he wasn’t what Henry was expecting – warm, nostalgic feelings had overridden his common sense, and he simply was happy to see Henry. Now, though, he sees the man’s horrified expression – and hears the waver of his voice, his shaky breathing.

 Michael makes an odd, almost hiss-like noise as he winces, ears expressively pinning back against his head. He doesn’t even know that they’re doing that, it’s entirely instinctive. Despite his horrific visage… almost comedically, were it not for this unfortunate situation, his expression could be likened to that of a sad puppy.   “O…oh…” He’s lost for words, similar to Henry, unsure how to continue. “Uh… haha… whoops?” He shrugs, chuckling awkwardly. Why would you try joking at a time like this, Michael? What’s wrong with you? He scolds himself internally, visibly faltering. His head hangs in shame, silver eyes shifting to avert the older’s gaze.

“…Sorry. That was… inappropriate. Yes, Henry, it’s me. Michael.” He grabs at his own wrist. It seems like Michael still doesn’t realize just why Henry is apologizing to him. “I… guess I didn’t realize that… you didn’t know it was me, this whole time. It’s… it’s okay. To be honest, it’s rather disappointing that he didn’t get what he deserved… although, I’m hoping to… fix that,” the last bit is said with great contempt, though, additionally, a hint of uncertainty.

  “I’m surprised you could recognize me from my voice alone. Nobody else did…”  The difference between Henry and ‘everyone else’ was that… Henry was close with Michael, or at least, he used to be. Henry was… attentive. (…usually) Michael and William’s voices were near identical to a stranger, but when you know the both of them; you know that Michael’s voice is quieter and softer than William’s. Maybe a tad higher in pitch, too.

[audioprompts]

[Michael’s initial reaction to his apology demonstrated that he wasn’t cognizant of the reasons behind it, that he couldn’t comprehend what it was that Henry was so distraught over -- and, appalling as it was, that fell in line with his predictions. He must not have recognized Henry as the culprit who’d sealed him away and left him to rot, and although dredging that part of the past might not help either of them now, the sense of remorse consuming him was...intense. Although he would have been perfectly content ( morbidly delighted, even ) to witness William in this condition, to have plunged him into this state with his own two hands, this was entirely different; when it was an irreproachable young man like Michael who’d been killed, cordoned off, all because of one tactless error...he couldn’t forgive himself.]

[Tension crept up his spine when the dilapidated rabbit’s expression turned to shock; for a moment, he wondered if Michael had caught onto his train of thought, and it paralyzed him. Even as the bunny’s expression gradually shifted to resemble a sad puppy’s, he remained stunned ( although his own features, already wrought with concern, twisted a bit more to convey a sense of sympathy and worry for the boy ) -- up until Michael shrugged and clumsily laughed off the situation, that is. That managed to rattle him just enough to make him realize that the poor fellow was just as clueless as ever, although he wasn’t certain whether that fortunate or not -- would it be better to let this remain a “pleasant” reunion while his own guilt devoured him from within, or would it be better to grant him the truth of what happened all those years ago and clear his own conscience...?]

[Perhaps, for now, he would simply see where this conversation brought him...besides, he couldn’t quite bring himself to pull the topic out of thin air. Not after that touching greeting, especially. A hand pressed against his forehead in exhaustion for a moment, then lowered to cover his mouth and a bit of the messy stubble beneath it as his expression changed to a more pensive one, staring up at the decrepit corpse as he himself apologized ( a gesture that caused his features to twinge, due to the debilitating sense of irony ).]

-- ❝ Michael...there’s no need for you to apologize. It’s alright. ❞ [Although his inflection might imply that he’d regained his composure by now, he certainly hadn’t; he’d simply honed his talents when it came to reflecting an inner strength he didn’t possess. However, the boy’s concluding sentiment did intrigue him slightly; it indicated that, perhaps, he had some faint inkling of where his father could be, or how he could actually seek justice. That might be wishful thinking on Henry’s part, but if there was some way that he could atone for what he did by assisting Michael ( and, in turn, ridding the world of that depraved abomination ), he would gladly do so.] 

❝ No, you’re...right. I’ve been “out of the loop,” as it were, for years. I was a fool...I thought that the menace had finally been “taken care of,” so I went into hiding myself...up until this attraction opened up. Truth be told, I came here with the intent of confronting your father -- but...finding you here instead, while surprising, isn’t a bad alternative. Besides...if you’d like some assistance on that endeavor, I’d gladly accompany you. ❞ [That closing proposal was uttered solemnly, making it evident that he was serious about offering his help here. Finally, Michael remarked about his astonishment regarding Henry’s “expertise” when it came to distinguishing between their voices -- and frankly, it was somewhat impressive to him, as well. He’d spent thirty years in near-complete isolation, yet he hadn’t forgotten their voices, let alone the extremely minute differences between them...perhaps William had simply haunted him that much over the years.]

❝ Well, nobody else spent as much time with you and William both as much as I did. Even if it has been well over thirty years...besides, the last thing William would ever say to me is “I missed you.” ❞ [A slight smile tugged at his lips at that subtle joke, a secretive attempt at lightening the mood in the room.]

[thirddcll]

@audioprompts asked ;;

❝ Do you like it? ❞ (-audioprompts)

[ soft sentence starters. | accepting! ]

  Brown eyes blink curiously at the object in her arms, she had flipped it around, intrigued as she looked it over– she was smiling already, head tilting to the side slightly as she thought to herself– she remained quiet, holding the object tightly in her hands as she did, she looked… pretty pleased outwardly, content and happy with what was given– though Charlie was content in general, able to maintain a cheerful personality as she was made to do– not like she knew, anyways… even so, her reactions were wholly genuine, at least– she believes they are, she keeps her smile as she held the object close, chuckling slightly.

  ❝ I love it. ❞ She spoke, her smile never faltering as she looked to him, she seemed practically elated– though she’s not jumping around, ‘course, she knew how to contain her excitement, she’s not a little kid anymore, after all– she was almost a grown adult, but anything from her dad was great! She let out a little hum as she stood there, her smile widening, ❝ Thank you, dad.. ❞ She then stated, he really shouldn’t have– and yet he did, and she couldn’t be more happier than she is, really.

[audioprompts]

[Henry clung to his arm somewhat apprehensively, fingers digging into the oil-soaked flannel as he stared at his ( mechanical ) daughter pensively, awaiting her reaction; she turned over the plush piece of complex machinery in her hands repetitively, appearing genuinely delighted with the surprise gift. She clung to it, laughing and ensuring him that she loved it -- and although he ought to have felt the same elation as her, he instead felt wracked by his own grief yet again.]

[Though he wished to continue living in this delusion for the rest of his life, knowing that it was all fabricated ( since he’d created it himself ) caused it to fall apart at the seams; he could barely keep it up these days, even though he’d resolved to treat his false daughter with the love and care he wished he’d given Charlotte in her final hours. Even though Henry beamed back at her, there was a hollowness to his eyes, one that she could likely detect; even so, he’d pretend that he was alright for her sake. He desperately wanted her to feel beloved, to live a wonderful and fulfilling life that her former self been robbed of, thanks to his ignorance.]

-- ❝ You do? I’m so glad...I know you’re not a little kid anymore, but this is...what I’m best at. ❞ [He chuckled to himself now, attempting to lighten up and ground himself in the moment; he should point out some of the features of his latest toy, created in the likeness of some of her childhood ones.] ❝ You’re welcome, Charlotte. This one’s a bit brighter than Stanley, Ella, or Theodore; granted, it’s nothing compared to the...others, but I think you’ll still be impressed. ❞

[audioprompts]

❝ i missed you. ❞ (from demolitioninevitable --)

RANDOM SENTENCE STARTERS || NO LONGER ACCEPTING.

[That voice…it wasn’t the one he’d anticipated.]

[Hearing it was a devastating blow to any sense of fortitude he’d held prior, and he was momentarily thrown into a state of shock – an encounter intended as a confrontation with an “old friend” turned arch-nemesis wound up becoming a case of mistaken identity, thirty years in the making. Although it’d been ages since he’d spoken to Michael, he…he would recognize his voice, especially compared to that of his father’s. Then…the boy’s words hit him, and he was overwhelmed by a crushing sense of remorse – “I missed you.” Michael…didn’t even realize who’d sealed him in that safe room all those years ago, did he?]

[The one who’d allowed him to succumb to that miserable, lonesome fate was Henry himself, all because of the deluded belief that he’d trapping the menace who’d captured and murdered his kids – his heart sank as he came to the morbid realization that he hadn’t, that he’d made a horrific, dreadful mistake. And since he’d hidden himself away afterwards, up until this attraction opened up…jesus, what had he done? He stared up at the rotting rabbit with consternation in his eyes – not because he feared Michael, but because he feared himself. A shaky breath escaped him, as he struggled to determine how much to reveal in this situation…god, how he wanted to apologize. He’d ruined this poor boy’s life, all on an assumption…]

[He was no better than William now; murdering the innocent.]

– ❝ Michael…I-I… ❞ [For a moment, that was all that could escape him, abruptly feeble after all these years of building himself up.] ❝ I…missed you, too. I’m so…sorry… ❞

[audioprompts]

williamafton‌:

          “MMM. I SENSE AN OPPORTUNITY.” It seems you both want something unexpected out of this encounter; he wants to understand your motives, and you want to know how he’s going to kill you. Perhaps you can work something out. “IF YOU TELL ME HOW IT IS THAT YOU PLAN TO MURDER WHAT IS LEFT OF ME, I WILL ANSWER ANY QUESTIONS YOU ASK. I WILL TELL YOU ANYTHING AND EVERYTHING YOU WISH TO KNOW WITHOUT RESTRICTION. I DON’T NEED TO HEAR YOUR ENTIRE PLAN; JUST HOW YOU THINK YOU WILL BE ABLE TO KILL SOMETHING LIKE ME. I HAVE NOT BEEN ABLE TO FIND A METHOD THAT RELIABLY WORKS. YOU ARE A CLEVER BOY; PERHAPS YOU CAN DO BETTER.”

          Indeed, if there is any person in this world that could ever be more clever than you when it comes to these sorts of matters, it’s Henry. You partnered with him for a reason, after all. You don’t want to die, obviously, but if he isn’t going to tell you about his plan, perhaps he will at least tell you what he thinks will be able to destroy you. You resist the urge to laugh at the idea of him attempting to perform some sort of exorcism on you, deciding that an exorcism is far too outlandish even given the circumstances. Horror movies might be a good place to start for ideas, though. Is he going to dump holy water on you? Bit of Bible reading? Holy fire? He is an angel, after all. 

          “THAT IS WHY I CHOSE THIS VESSEL. DID YOU TRULY THINK MY DEATH WAS AN ACCIDENT? I HAD LONG SINCE DISCOVERED HOW TO TRANSFER SOULS INTO THESE SUITS. WHY WOULD I HAVE CHOSEN TO DO ANYTHING OTHER THAN BECOME ONE OF THEM MYSELF? SOMEONE HAD TO LOOK AFTER ALL OF THOSE POOR, LONELY CHILDREN!”

[An eye twitched with the deteriorating rabbit’s proposition, a lapse in his own bravado; he abhorred the fact that he was genuinely tempted by the offer, begrudgingly cajoled by the opportunity to finally hear whatever demented justification his former partner might’ve had for ruining his life. William had robbed him of the only joy he’d possessed, all while posing as his best friend, the only man he could trust when he had lost everything else...and all these years, he could never wrap his mind around why. He couldn’t possibly hope to -- a man as depraved as the one before him couldn’t be understood.]

[Yet, despite desperately yearning for closure, he cautiously weighed his options; his deadly, infuriated scowl turned pensive, contemplative, earnestly considering whether this would be worth it. All that the rotten husk wanted to know now was the method, which would be simplistic enough -- “fire” wouldn’t be a theatrical reveal compared to his ultimate scheme, and although William would likely comment on its triteness ( attempts had already been made to cremate him, after all ), this attempt wouldn’t falter. He would ascertain that for himself. After all, the labyrinth he’d constructed was designed to be inescapable...the flames would scorch both of them, whether they wanted them to or not.]

-- ❝ ...Alright, then. ❞ [There was a lull, Henry finding himself dismayed by his own course of action, though he endeavored to maintain a fraction of the confidence he’d held before. He took a deep breath, then continued, overly wary about his every word and how much each tidbit of information might reveal.] ❝ It’s a simple solution...fire. Burning and effectively “cleansing” the vessel that your...”soul” is tethered to should release it, thereby killing you once and for all. Now, if you’re satisfied... ❞ [A final delay, his inflection becoming much sharper ( yet pained, all the same ), his glare piercing.] ❝ Why...them? Out of all of the targets, the first candidates in your eventual spree, you chose the ones that would hurt ME the most -- why? ❞

[Finally, the carcass before him chimed in yet again; those initial remarks provided a tad of insight to how remarkably disturbed his mind was, and Henry grimaced at the notion, yet again wondering how someone this far-gone could have hidden right under his nose. He’d willingly melded himself to that suit, all for the sake of “transferring his soul” -- for what, grasping some sense of eternal life? What did that matter when your vessel was so uncanny, so...unwieldy? What followed managed to get under his skin more than anything else -- the unbridled rage that’d previously been kept at bay by his insatiable, morbid curiosity rose to the surface as soon as William insisted that he was looking after those “poor, lonely children.”]

❝ None of them would have endured the hell they're in if it weren’t for YOU. They wouldn’t be miserable or alone if you hadn’t forced them into this godforsaken “afterlife.” Don’t delude yourself -- you aren’t a saint for merging them with those grimy bodies, and you certainly AREN’T their caretaker. ❞

[audioprompts]

What Psychological Archetype are You?

The Magician

The Magician archetype searches out the fundamental laws of science and/or metaphysics to understand how to transform situations, influence people, and make visions into realities. If the Magician can overcome the temptation to use power manipulatively, they galvanize their energy for good. The Magician's symbolic quest is not to “do magic,” but to transform or change something or someone in some way. The Magician has significant power and as such may be feared. They may also fear themselves and their potential to do harm. Perhaps their ultimate goal is to transform themselves, achieving a higher plane of existence.

Shadow Side: The sorcerer. This will manifest itself in your life through the manipulative use of your knowledge and insights ( e.g. black mail, playing God, gaslighting, etc. ). Furthermore, you engage in “sorcery” any time you belittle yourself or another person, lesson possibilities and close doors.

Life Goal: Transformation into greater realities Fear: Negative transformation Response to Problem: Transform it or heal it Life Task: Alignment with the Cosmos Personal Gifts: Personal power, ability to transform, serving as a catalyst, healing power Personal Pitfalls: Manipulation of others, disconnection with reality

Tagged by: @afton-legacies ( THANK U ILY )

Tagging: @invaderofdoom, @williamafton, @mcnystorcies, @agaggleofgoons ( for any blog you want ), & anyone else who wants to!! ( also if i’m tagging u guys in too many memes feel free to ignore this adssdf i just love u all a lot )

[audioprompts]

me: (checks in on this blog to do a meme)

my notifs:

me:

[audioprompts]

succumbs to my art kick instead of working more on drafts

au where henry’s life doesn’t get completely fucked over by william?? please? please.

[audioprompts]

i drew The Dad (TM),,,,,

[audioprompts]

rules: repost, don’t reblog. just pick a muse of yours and fill it out.

muse: henry emily ( aka “cassette man” ).

BASICS

▸ is your muse tall/short/average? he’s around average height, which is roughly 5′9″.

▸ are they okay with their height? it doesn’t bother him too much; height never really factored into his life or his work, nor has he ever really been mocked for it. ▸ what’s their hair like? before losing his children, it was always short, well-kept and combed neatly ( he actually took care of himself back in those days ); afterwards, it became a disheveled mess. he never takes a brush to it, giving him the impression that he’s always just crawled out of bed.

▸ do they spend a lot of time on their hair/with their grooming? before losing his children ( but after starting fredbear’s ), sort of! he at least tried to keep up a somewhat professional appearance as the owner and creator of the animatronics when he wasn’t in costume, although that was difficult, provided how stuffy the costumes tended to be. afterwards, however, spending time caring for himself in any way became a waste of time. he even started showing up to work in his oily, stained flannel shirts. ▸ does your muse care about their appearance? somewhat, once upon a time, in the sense that he just wanted to be presentable to others as a “professional business owner” ( even if that aspect of the job belonged more to william than himself ). nowadays, he doesn’t really give a damn.

▸ does your muse care about what others think about them? truthfully, he used to. being considered a suspect of his children’s own murders absolutely crushed him ( it was a last straw atop everything else ), and being the topic of conversations and countless rumors was heartbreaking. if he didn’t learn to numb himself to it over the years, he wouldn’t have survived.

PREFERENCES

▸ indoors or outdoors? indoors, by far. he’s a simple and reclusive man who finds his comforts in private spaces, like the sanctuary of his workshop. ▸ rain or sunshine? sunshine; pleasant weather and free weekends used to be the catalyst for family outings, so he still has a soft spot for sunny days. rain is more of a depressing reflection of his constant state of mind. ▸ forest or beach? the forest. the seclusion is calming to him, and camping out was always more appealing to him and his kids, anyway.

▸ precious metals or gems? metals are always more appealing to an inventor, aren’t they? ▸ flowers or perfumes? flowers are always nice, aren’t they? his kids used to dig them out of the garden around the house and give them to him as a makeshift “bouquet,” and it was the cutest shit ever. ▸ personality or appearance? personality. appearance doesn’t really matter to him, so long as whoever he’s with is kind, loving, and patient with him. someone who was also into robotics and would support his work would be an added bonus. ▸ being alone or being in a crowd? being alone. while he used to subject himself to crowds for the sake of kids’ entertainment, they now remind him of the worst moments of his life. ▸ order or anarchy? order. all he ever wanted was a peaceful life. ▸ painful truths or white lies? painful truths. white lies were saved for when his children were around, when they asked probing questions that they couldn’t quite handle the answers to. otherwise, he’d either be blunt or avoid answering altogether.

▸ science or magic? science! as an inventor, obviously he leans toward the former ( even if his prowess in the field makes it SEEM like magic ). ▸ peace or conflict? peace; however, his planned actions against william and the remnants of his own franchise obviously lean more toward the conflict end of the spectrum. after the shit he’s been through, though, it’s sort of justified -- not to mention that it’ll make the world more peaceful afterwards. ▸ night or day? day.  ▸ dusk or dawn? dusk. ▸ warmth or cold? he appreciates warmth just a tiny bit more than the cold; it’s a comfort thing.

▸ many acquaintances or a few close friends? a few close friends.

▸ reading or playing a game? reading; he has a vast collection of non-fiction books that he studied diligently when he first started inventing, of course, but he does also enjoy reading as a hobby.

QUESTIONNAIRE

▸ what are some of your muse’s bad habits? oh, y’know, his denial, for one thing. the fact that he’d rather throw himself into a delusion than face the fact that he lost his daughter, or that his business partner and closest friend was the person who caused her “disappearance.” beyond that, he’s also more than willing to resort to crimes -- the biggest ones being arson and murder -- to get back at the man who ruined his life.

▸ has your muse lost anyone close to them? how has it affected them? haha, everyone. his wife, his children, his “old friend.” he lost his wife soon after their twins were born, and while that in itself shattered him, he had to get through it...for the sake of their kids. but then, losing his daughter after starting fredbear’s absolutely broke him. he was devastated, but struggled to keep himself together for his son ( even though he nearly pulled himself into a denial-induced delusion in the process ). he lost his son soon after to another incident at the diner -- this time, a bite involving an animatronic. he was crushed, all over again, and couldn’t pull himself together for the longest time.

▸ what are some fond memories your muse has? his fondest memories involve his children; creating and giving them new toys ( and happily watching as they played with them, wonder in their little eyes ), letting them play together in his workshop, having family outings to small diners or ice cream parlors and laughing at how messy they both got. ▸ is it easy for your muse to kill? with certain people, and if he’s been wronged enough, absolutely. he wouldn’t lay a hand on a person otherwise -- he’s not the violent type -- but if you fuck with his family? he’s going to DESTROY you, sooner or later.

▸ what’s it like when your muse breaks down? after a severe loss, like the death of his kids, he loses touch with reality. he goes void. when around other people, it’s obvious how detached and absent he is, and he can’t pull himself together. he goes into a deep depression, really only releasing his feelings when he’s alone and going into crying spells. ▸ is your muse capable of trusting someone with their life? not easily. after what he went through with william, trust needs to be earned, and even then...he can never really be sure. ▸ what’s your muse like when they’re in love? henry’s a huge sap in general, so if he ever did wind up falling for someone again, he’d be sickeningly sweet toward them. having lost everyone he’s ever loved, he'd also want to cling to them as much as possible while they’re still around. all that said, however, there’d also be a part of him that’d reject that feeling from the get-go -- he wouldn’t WANT to get attached to anyone ever again, and he’d likely avoid it at all costs.

tagged by: nabbed it from my other blog bc i wanna do it on my fnaf blogs too!! ( for my human muses at least ) tagging: @williamafton, @afton-legacies, @demolitioninevitable ( i tagged this blog for the fnaf aesthetic but u can go for any of em if u want! ), @frightsguard ( any of ur blogs! ), @afunsized​, & @mcnystorcies because all of y’all are super rad and nice and i appreciate all of you :’ ))) but no worries if you don’t want to do this or have already done it and i just haven’t seen it!!! consider me tagging just. a token of my love and appreciation instead afdsfd

[dovingmemes]

random sentence starters

random sentences for any / multiple scenario(s). change around as you see fit.

“ who do you think you are? “

“ wait , did you just say you love me? “

“ please just … leave me alone. “

“ i’m so happy! “

“ is this a gift for me? “

“ hey! i’ve got something for you! wait right here! “

“ i love you. “

“ shut up! shut the fuck up! “

“ who told you that?! i didn’t say that! “

“ w — what? “

“ … i’m sorry. “

“ what? ME have a crush on YOU? whaaaaaat?! haha! what? pfft … shut up! “

“ bitch , guess what? “

“ oh my god … “

“ fuck you to fucking hell! “

“ man … go to hell. “

“ what did you just send me? “

“ what did you just say? “

“ they’re totally checking you out right now. “

“ jealous?! i’m not jealous! “

“ are you jealous? “

“ wow … you’re hot when you’re angry. “

“ wow … your smile is breathtaking. “

“ you’re so stupid. “

“ okay! that’s it! put your dukes up! “

“ you don’t want me. “

“ question , you’re not dating anyone , are you? “

“ let me take you out on a date. “

“ i swear to god i’m going to scream at the top of my lungs. “

“ no! don’t tickle me! “

“ i’m not good for you , trust me. “

“ no offense but i’m out of your league. “

“ so , how does it feel to know me? a blessing , isn’t it? “

“ … why does this card say ‘ happy 3rd birthday ‘? “

“ so what will it be tonight? “

“ please , let me listen to celine dion in the dark in peace. “

“ i don’t love you. “

“ you don’t love me. “

“ … is there something you want? “

“ you know , you’re really cute. “

“ god , just let me fucking love you , you idiot! “

“ shh … don’t cry. “

“ i just feel like everything is falling apart. “

“ DON’T YOU DARE! DON’T YOU FUCKING DARE! “

“ hello darkness my old friend … “

“ so … do i get a goodnight kiss? “

[bluesmemethings]

various starters

❛  you’re a weapon and weapons don’t weep.  ❜

❛  hurt me once, I’ll kill you twice.  ❜

❛  never trust a survivor until you learn what they did to stay alive.  ❜

❛  death is the only god that comes when you call.  ❜

❛  I am teeth. I am royal. you are nothing to me.  ❜

❛  the sun will rise and we will try again.  ❜

❛  we’re just kids. we aren’t supposed to be heroes.  ❜

❛  I like my women like I like my Absinthe: bitter and intoxicating.  ❜

❛  what doesn’t kill me better run.  ❜

❛  she wasn’t looking for a knight. she was looking for a sword.  ❜

❛  don’t dehumanize bad people, because it’s their humanity which makes what they’ve done so terrifying.  ❜

❛  she isn’t just pretty. she is otherworldly and vaguely threatening.  ❜

❛  magic is not good or evil. is a knife evil? only if the wielder is.  ❜

❛  I don’t want your crown. see, I’ve come to burn your kingdom down.  ❜

❛  they broke my wings. they forgot I have claws.  ❜

❛  all that blood was never beautiful, it was just red.  ❜

❛  what do you do when there’s no hero in the story? simple. you kill the monster and crown yourself.  ❜

❛  how terrible it is, to love something that death can touch.  ❜

❛  you may not be interested in war, but it is interested in you.  ❜

❛  I feel divinity in my bones like aching. like fire.  ❜

❛  you make me feel and I don’t like it. I want it to stop. now.  ❜

❛  you are losing my interest and that is very dangerous.  ❜

❛  she will burn your kingdoms down, herself with it, if it means your ruin.  ❜

❛  it’s okay to be scared. it means your about to do something brave.  ❜

❛  she looks like divine absolution.  ❜

❛  I will not be another flower, picked for my beauty and left to die. I will be wild, difficult to find and impossible to forget.  ❜

❛  be careful with words. they can be forgive, but never forgotten.  ❜

❛  you not wanting me was the beginning of me wanting myself.  ❜

❛  I’m tired of fighting. for once, I want to be fought for.  ❜

❛  never run back to what broke you.  ❜

❛  I was quite, but not blind.  ❜

❛  your gut knows what’s up. trust that bitch.  ❜

❛  we all eat lies when our hearts are hungry.  ❜

❛  do not judge my story by the chapter you walked in on.  ❜

❛  I’m just a girl, standing in front of a salad, wishing it was a donut.  ❜

❛  you can miss something but not want it back.  ❜

❛  you can’t save people, you can only love them.  ❜

❛  I came, I saw, I made it awkward.  ❜

❛  we buy shite we don’t need, with money we don’t have, to impress people we don’t like.  ❜

❛  you’re always one decision away from a different life.  ❜

❛  my brain has too many tabs open.  ❜

❛  I’m not saying I hate you, just that you’re like the Monday of people.  ❜

❛  there’s no ‘we’ in fries.  ❜

❛  apology accepted, trust denied.  ❜

❛  death and I have been scandalously intimate for some time now.  ❜

❛  life happens. coffee helps.  ❜

❛  I am mine before I am ever anyone else’s.  ❜

❛  I rely a bit too heavily on alcohol and irony.  ❜

❛  very early in my life it was already too late.  ❜

❛  is that a threat or are you flirting with me.  ❜

❛  was the use of force necessary in completing your objectives?  ❜

❛  I’ll let you drag me to hell if it means you’ll hold my hand.  ❜

❛  I do bad things, and I do them very well.  ❜

❛  you drink too much, you cuss too much and you have questionable morals. you’re everything I ever wanted.  ❜

❛  they will kill you, but first they will have to catch you.  ❜

❛  drugs might kill you but they’ll never break your heart.  ❜

❛  good girls are just bad girls that haven’t been caught.  ❜

❛  a pretty face doesn’t guarantee a pretty heart.  ❜

❛  no airbag, we die like men.  ❜

❛  true evil is, above all, seductive.  ❜

❛  it takes more courage to suffer than to die.  ❜

❛  you must be lucky to avoid the wolf every time. but the wolf? he only needs enough luck to catch you once.  ❜

❛  justice is vengeance in prettier packaging.  ❜

Anonymously tell my muse what the fuck is wrong with them.

[audioprompts]

afunsized‌:

     ღ.    “…Okie dokie…” Aw man..but washing a car sounded sooooo fun. Granted, anyone that involved being outside was tantalizing to him. As much as he tried to be a professional, his child like spirit couldn’t help but to feel constrained being inside the Pizzeria all the time.  While his programming was satisfied with that, his soul was not. But right now all that mattered was Henry. 

                 His well being meant everything to Helpy. 

       Worry seemed to be expressed on his face when his offers were turned down. If he’s unable to help Boss dad, then he might just go insane… The thought made his plastic joints tense… up until–

    “Oh!!!” Small ears perked up. No one would be able to understand the warm feeling that gave him. Companionship, now that was something he excelled at. Rather it be the kids in the Pizzeria, or his fellow animatronics– he added brightness to any room. Helpy effortless climbs up on top of Henry’s desk, sitting down comfortably. 

     “I love talking!!” 

      His plastic paws held onto his feet, making it easy to rock back in forth as he sat. One thing Helpy never failed to do, was be adorable. Even if he associated this office with work– his true mannerisms were to loud to be cooped up. 

[Henry noticed that passing wave of disappointment from the fun-sized bear as he rejected the car-washing idea -- he wondered if it’d meant that much to him, or if it was a sign of something else. Helpy, much like the other animatronics inhabiting this pizzeria, had a “soul” of his own; perhaps he wasn’t content being cooped up here, stuck in the same routines he’d been programmed for. Not that Henry could blame him -- he could envision just how tedious being trapped in here day after day would become. Maybe he ought to let the miniature bear play outdoors at some point; it was the least he could do before his plans came to fruition, since Helpy was the least deserving of his fate out of all of Henry’s creations.]

[That morbid thought vanished after Helpy recovered, apparently overjoyed by Henry’s proposition for them to merely sit here and converse. His reaction was a bit of a relief, not only because it erased any trace of the bear’s previous discouragement, but because...he needed this sort of company at the moment. He was an overwhelmingly lonely, isolated, and reclusive individual -- he always had been, but he’d retreated further into his shell after losing his family. Speaking to someone, even if it was one of his inventions, would be reassuring right now. Then again, perhaps speaking to one of them wasn’t the healthiest alternative, especially when the idea to chat with him popped into his mind after he was reminded of his children...]

[Nevertheless, Helpy climbed up onto Henry’s desk, seating himself atop the mess of papers there. He clung to his plastic feet with those tiny paws of his, rocking back and forth; an warm smile tugged at his lips again, the man finding himself more attached to his adorable creation with every passing second. He was somewhat astounded that he could even manage to consider one of his own inventions “cute” in the slightest, but as had been proven throughout his brief run as manager, Helpy was the sole exception to a series of mistakes and monstrosities. Hell, he was almost proud of the bear for deviating from that pattern.]

-- ❝ Well, that ought to come in handy. ❞ [He mused, folding his arms atop his desk. With Henry being a man of few words, Helpy’s penchant for idle chatter would certainly be convenient. For now, he could start things off.] ❝ So...what do you think of this place? Have you been having fun? ❞

[rottenmask]

@fazbearent / @audioprompts || like’d

☠ — William had been crawling around the vents for HOURS, hunting fervently for the man who’d trapped him in this labyrinth. His intent was clear: ‘reunite’ Henry with his children and escape this maze, and NO ONE was going to get in his way. 

“ Heeenryyyy … “ he called out, rough voice reverberating angrily through the vents. Sharp fingers dig into the surrounding metal, the screeching of it tearing apart only adding to his hateful tone, 

“ COME OUT AND FACE ME, YOU BLOODY COWARD! I KNOW YOU’RE IN HERE SOMEWHERE! “

[audioprompts]

[This process of luring and subsequently warding off the animatronics he’d gathered had become a routine; daily chores, paired with an ever-present threat from the beasts crawling in his makeshift labyrinth, made for rather eventful nights. Beyond that, all of them recognized him -- his was an unwelcome face to those he’d collected thus far, resulting in a few personal altercations. Tonight was following the same pattern, with an “old friend” attempting to provoke him...]

[A raspy voice echoed through the hollow maze, exasperatedly calling his name, accompanied by a few screeching noises, like nails on a chalkboard. Perhaps rotting rabbit paws could produce the same sound? Nevertheless, Henry had braced himself for these sorts of scenarios ever since allotting the responsibilities of the restaurant and its eventual demise to himself; empty threats from his wicked former partner wouldn’t deter him.]

-- ❝ Now, now...that’s no way to speak to an “old friend,” is it, William? ❞ [Though the remark was grumbled under his breath, Henry’s tone was condescending and bitter, a slight revulsion stirring within him when he referred to William as a former ally. That sort of derision would ultimately lead the corpse to his location, but that was no matter -- he was entirely prepared for a face-to-face confrontation.]