NEW PATHS.

independent, dash only fnaf:tse rp, written by kq!! sideblog to scrubthememories!!

[partyhatted]

CARLTON SMELLS LIKE FEET !

partyhatted is an independent rp blog for ( most of ) the kids from the fnaf:tse !! featuring carlton, jessica, lamar, marla, and elizabeth afton ( pre-babyfication ) set in the sad book universe, or the happy universe where they’re all just working in the pizzaplex !! 

sideblog to @scrubthememories​ so please refer there for basic rules !!

written by kq, 26 y/o, est, she / her   —  discord available to mutuals !!

[partyhatted]

gavegifts​.

    “you again,” theo scoffs, eyes rolling as he catches sight of lizzie. he’d hoped she wouldn’t find her way to this security room and that he’d have some time to try and figure out the map of this stupid place without her showing up again. why’d there have to be so many stupid monitors… “can’t y’go bother someone else?” this far from where his puppet sits on the third floor arcade, theo is more the shape of a boy than an actual one. “ – ‘m busy doin’ stuff.” / @partyhatted for ghost lizzie !

“there’s no one else t’bother, dummy.” no one else she knows, at least. not upstairs. and she doesn’t want to go back down... there. not that lizzie’s afraid! she just doesn’t like the way they’ve set everything up. and her dad--- well, it’s not important, now. she crosses her arms defiantly, chin tilting up. “b’sides. you can barely even touch anything, up here. i can touch everything.” to prove her point, she knocks the stapler off the desk. “see?” i’m better than you. “you can’t even do stuff.”

[partyhatted]

earlytaken​.

    “there’s no such thing as a lost cause.” idly, michael reaches up to swipe his thumb at the corner of carlton’s mouth, wiping away froyo that didn’t make it inside. he licks it off his finger, not meeting carlton’s eyes as he does so. michael’s cheeks are pink. “i think i can stretch it to midnight or one on friday. but i’m opening saturday morning so i really can’t go past that.” he knows carlton will understand. having to be here early was bad enough sometimes, but definitely worse with no sleep ( and a possible hangover ). michael stirs his own froyo thoughtfully. “i could try to pepper in a few more sessions throughout the day. we’d have to find… office space, though.”

carlton’s about to roll his eyes and mutter out a yes, dear before he catches michael’s thumb. his expression shifts to one of delight, cheeks pinking up just as much as his boyfriend’s. mentally, he files away the curfew, begging his brain not to forget. for good measure, he takes a post-it and scribbles out a message: michael home by 12:30 fri <3 no add’l funny business!!! his eyebrows waggle in michael’s direction. “office space, you say?” the evil laughter is not necessarily his sexiest look, but carlton’s nothing if not committed. “i think that could be arranged.” he tugs michael over until their chairs are completely flush, close enough that he can hook his chin on the other’s shoulder. “but, if not... this is good, too.”

[partyhatted]

eightythreed​.

    “well – kind of.” timmy knows that if elizabeth doesn’t tolerate the mostly-sanitized upper parts of the pizzaplex, she’s going to absolutely hate the lower level. he hasn’t gone further down than the first level, but the staff bots start getting… strange once you enter the tunnels. he jogs to get ahead of elizabeth, scooting past the security bots. his level 3 security badge technically belongs to their older brother ( it’s my spare, michael had said. keep track of it in case i lose mine and need to grab this one ) but timmy’s responsible enough not to abuse it. well, except for right now. he swipes it, opening up a new tunnel, all concrete and chain link fences and stairs leading down. “they won’t bother us. probably. c’mon.”

elizabeth trails after her brother, opting to push at the bots in her way instead of twisting to avoid their paths. none of them start blaring alarms, so she knows that she’s in the system. ( wishful thinking about her involvement, on their father’s part? or a system wide understanding that aftons are to do as they please, unbothered? ) they won’t bother us. of course they won’t, but she wants to know why. “oh, ew. this is creepy.” the tunnel’s atmosphere sets her on edge, pushing past her general demeanor’s range of anger to indifference. she’s unsettled. “this is where they spend their time?” how is this better than home? 

[partyhatted]

earlytaken​.

@partyhatted

    “i’ve got a peer counseling appointment this afternoon.” his hands are full with two cups of frozen yogurt so he uses his foot to drag the other roller chair behind the desk at the daycare. across the way, sunnydrop prances along, gasping when he encounters a set of upturned blocks. “it’s taking place right now.” michael pushes one of the froyos over toward carlton, taking his seat. he gives a quick check to make sure there aren’t any stray parents roaming nearby or above before hooking his knee over top of carlton’s thigh, swinging his foot lightly as he rests his leg. “ – and it’s for you. how are things? are we still on for friday?”

“and here i was thinking that we were gonna have to have a talk about you latching on to a lost cause.” he’d spent the better part of the last minute scanning the day care for their beloved lizzie. carlton doesn’t have a problem with michael’s unwavering interest in helping--- he likes it a lot, actually! loves it, even. but, there are some dead horses that just don’t need to be beat again. “things are good. unless that would mean fewer sessions? in which case, things are terrible. i’m sad and lonely and in need of a friend.” one hand falls to squeeze michael’s knee while the other scoops up his froyo. “yeth, fwiday ith stiw on.” he swallows. “whats your curfew situation?”

[partyhatted]

@gavegifts​ asked: jessica i think we're married now. or at least we have a hypothetical child together.

“do i even want to know what that means?” she’s wiping down the tables from the biggest, messiest party she’s ever seen blow through freddy’s. kids had been chanting ‘who’s daddy’ for the final thirty minutes. she’s seen hell. she’s living in hell. “because last i checked, you lacked access to my hypothetical womb. i think i would’ve remembered the hypothetical birth.” 

[beginmanifest]

[lena-grisky]

It’s just a crush, okay? So pardon me all over the place if I don’t want to hear about your girlfriend in micro updates.

[partyhatted]

gavegifts​.

    in the span of 10 seconds sammy thinks he knows how icarus must have felt, flying too close to the sun. or in this case sunnydrop. he tries to ignore the instant heebie jeebies the animatronic gives him ( and it’s insistent call of ‘sammy’s daddy! sammy’s daddy! where’s the mommy!’ in the background ) and instead fiddles with trying to face the camera back towards him. “i hope you’ve enjoyed this ASMR POV livestream of the freddy fazbear’s pizzaplex playplace ball pit! don’t forget to tune back in tomorrow – jessica’s gonna take you on a tour of the faz pad’s menu, you won’t wanna miss it!” okay, kind of an abrupt ending. not his best work. honestly, nothing about sammy’s performance on this shift has been exemplary. he looks to marla, solemn. “if i wasn’t the owner’s son i’d be so fired. admit it.”

marla’s face is completely red, the sheer force of her giggling and the absurdity of the situation tearing her to pieces. “i think---” she has to stop, shushing sundrop as gently as she can through her laughter. “i think that jessica’s tour of the menu is gonna seem really boring if she doesn’t call herself mommy.” she should never have shushed the sun, who’s begun to clap excitedly. ‘jessica’s mommy! oh, what a happy union!’ she thinks she might puke, adding to the overall atmosphere of the ball pit. even though she’s unintentionally instigated the situation, marla manages to sober herself enough to nod frantically. “i--- yeah. yes! i think you could definitely be fired, for this.” 

[partyhatted]

eightythreed​.

    “i mean,” timmy keeps an eye on his tone as he gets out of elizabeth’s car. he’s learned the hard way not to make it sound like he knows more than her about anything. he’d never purposefully patronize her but accidents happen. “they’ve got showers in the building, and cots and stuff. laundry, too.” he leads her to a staff door off the front entrance, punching in a code and opening it for her. “i guess they wouldn’t really have to leave if they were really focused on something.”

“what is this place? google?” she rolls her eyes. this whole thing has gone too far. does it finance her lifestyle appropriately? yes. and then some. should they have canned the entire god damned thing, as soon as michael decided timmy needed to give fredbear a big ol’ kiss? abso-fucking-lutely. “i don’t get how you can stand to be here. any of you.” the words are pointed, punctuated with strong eye contact before she breezes past him and directly into a hoard of security bots. “this is seriously overkill.” elizabeth’s not sure if she means the bots or the entire place. “these things don’t lurk downstairs, do they?”

[partyhatted]

gavegifts​.

    he feels the full range of emotions from marla’s accidental fakeout ( relief ! joy ! confusion ! despair ! ), shoulders slumping with the realization. “found a chip bag,” sammy offers unhelpfully. his hand hits something heavy and cylindrical. “and… a full can of sodaroni.” disgusting and unhelpful. sammy sifts forward through more balls, knees plunging through the pit until he feels something flat and smooth break the fall of one of them. fuck. shit. goddamn. no. with a heavy heart, sammy fishes out the phone from underneath his leg, brandishing it and its newly cracked screen to marla. “daddy’s gonna have a hard time explaining this to the social media manager.”

marla’s hands come up to cover her mouth, stifling her shocked gasp. a million concerns run through her head. glass. sammy trapped in pepperoni purgatory. charlie’s head exploding. it only takes a second to shift into a shoulder shaking giggle. “um,” she starts uneasily, pointing at the object of their search, still lit up despite the trauma sammy’s sharp bones have inflicted on it. there’s the sammy before her and the smaller, slightly obscured sammy on the phone’s screen. “daddy’s live on instagram, right now.” and, like clockwork, she hears the bouncing springs come up behind her, right to the edge of the ball pit. ‘who’s daddy? sammy’s daddy?!’

[partyhatted]

eightythreed​.

    “uh –” it only takes him a moment to weigh the pros and cons of either being stuck at the pizzeria once elizabeth leaves and having to ask one of the others for a ride home or dealing with a stranded at the pizzaplex and getting angrier by the second during timmy’s shift elizabeth. “your car.” this way she won’t pick on his driving on the way there, either. hopefully with them getting there before opening there wouldn’t be that many people there to ask questions.

she grabs her keys and heads for the door, making note of the distinctly empty driveway as soon as she sees it. “they didn’t even come home last night,” elizabeth points out, as if timmy wouldn’t have been so relieved as to not notice. as soon as they’re in the car, she’s blasting the music and peeling out. she only turns the volume down when they pull into the pizzaplex parking lot. “the usual suspects.” their father, their brother, and henry. typical. “this is overkill, isn’t it? are they even sleeping?”

[partyhatted]

gavegifts​.

    “tch. yeah, that’ll go over well.” his tone isn’t coloured so much with bitterness as it is with stark disbelief. the emilys might be doing well since the veritable explosion of the freddy fazbear chain and its sister locations, but that didn’t mean they really lived like it. more often than not their dad was clad in worn-thin flannels and jeans that had lost their blue from too many washes. they weren’t cheapskates by any stretch of the imagination, but sammy can’t fathom a conversation where him asking for something doesn’t end with a mini-lecture about earning the things you have by working. of course if charlie asked him – “it’s whatever. staying over builds moral fiber and all that. maybe i’ll have a heart to heart with moondrop and we’ll become best pals. finding anything?”

“i found mush and... a lollipop? maybe?” the ball pit gets cleared out and cleaned weekly, but there’s no way that that’s frequent enough. “i would avoid moondrop. during the day, there are a lot of people for him to bounce his energy off of. at night, though...” she shudders to think of how it would feel to have all of that directed at one person. “i would prefer to see sunny.” her hand lands on something solid and rectangular, at last. “i found it!” she stands up, balls cascading down her shoulder to triumphantly hold up... a chocolate bar. “oh. no. no, i didn’t.”

[partyhatted]

eightythreed​.

    he knows he’s going to regret his next words and the ( at minimum ) half hour of his time that they promise, but timmy’s knee-jerk reaction to people pleasing isn’t something he’s good at repressing. “i could take you down there.” he pricks his fingertip with the pin on his badge and his whole body flinches at the pain, shoulders tensing as if ready for more. “before my shift, i mean. i’ve got 45 minutes before we open. if you want to go now.”

oh, that is interesting. one brow rises upward, eyes still narrowed slightly. “okay,” elizabeth answers, tone airier than it’s been ( directed at him, anyway ) in a while. “take me down.” she shrugs like it’s nothing, not as big of a deal as they’re both aware that it is. just as swiftly, she snatches the name tag from his grasp. “gimme that. you’ve lost pin privileges.” what he does isn’t really her concern. except that. without further comment, she starts heading for the door. “your car or mine?”

[partyhatted]

gavegifts​.

    “it’s an expression!” sammy’s hand brushes something rectangular and for a moment hope flares up before he realizes it’s just an empty juice box and the search continues. “and besides, i’m allowed overtime like anyone else – they’re always begging people to do night shift.” it can’t be any worse than doing it at their childhood pizzeria. sure, the place was bigger but the animatronics weren’t supposed to roam, anyway. “i’m trying to save up. summer’s only a few months away, y’know.”

“not to hail your sister as the gold standard, but even she won’t do a night shift.” though that, as all things are, is probably related to foxy. he hasn’t been seen in months. where he went? that’s a mystery that marla has little interest in solving. certainly not while she plods around the ballpit, eyes peering out like a little alligator. she wades through, most definitely touching something squishy that she can’t think about. it’s not a phone. it doesn’t matter. “you realize your actual daddy owns this place, right? you could just ask for money. you don’t have to stay over.”

[partyhatted]

eightythreed​.

    timmy doesn’t even need to glance up to know the expression slashing itself across his sister’s face. it’s a harsher version of one their dad used to wear, when their age necessitated being around him more ( supervised feels like the wrong word to use, as does tolerated ). nowadays he simply doesn’t have the time to be angry with them. it’d require him to care more than he does. timmy shakes his head, fishing out his pizzaplex nametag from his pocket and fiddling with it. “i don’t really know about michael.” it’s partially a lie. timmy stays updated on his scheduled only so he can know when to avoid their older brother.

something like a growl comes from deep within her chest, frustration mounting. she wants to snap at him to look at her, but she’s got enough presence of mind to stop herself. they’ve both heard that phrase more times than they're comfortable with. “i’d bet you anything he’s in on it. even uninvited.” her anger has found another target, for the time being. the brother who, despite everything he’s done, has still wormed his way deeper into their father’s business than elizabeth or timmy ever will. “if i could make it to his creepy little den without being pulled aside for peer counseling, i’d make him tell me everything.”

[partyhatted]

gavegifts​.

    he shouldn’t be alarmed by the question, given where they are, but he still shoots marla a sharp look. “did you?” his pants still feel dry but he’s wondering how much of that is wishful thinking. “i’d really prefer not to get soaked in pee.” he wiggles until his knees hit the ballpit floor, leaning over so his hands can search the bottom as well. plastic balls bubble up to his chin. ew. “more so than usual. i’m getting overtime tonight. daddy’s doubling as security guard.”

emotionally, she doesn’t think either of them can handle the truth. “no one’s getting soaked in pee.” maybe it’s only spit. a lot of spit. marla follows his lead, wiggling until she’s reached the bottom. but she’s so much shorter, up to her eyes by the time her hands hit the ground. she has to readjust to make sure her mouth isn’t touching a single ball before she speaks. “why would you get overtime for that?” the question is genuine. in the sanctity of the daycare, there’s a moment where daddy really just means daddy. the moment passes too soon. “--- no! you did not just call yourself daddy!”