#springlockdeathtrap

[plastictoybear]

Starter Call

@springlockdeathtrap​

With Fazbear’s Fright being the dreary, suffocating building that it was, it was hard to imagine it hosting nothing but what was supposed to ignite fear and inflict pain upon any who dared pay to walk through its halls.  It did, however, harbor a more placid being, who, unlike the other more embittered spirits who would go to any length possible to satisfy their lust for vengeance, sought only to make peace with those of whom he had been such an utter dipshit to when he had still, in some way or another, been alive.

Toy Freddy, being the very thing he had been horribly mortified by when he was still “alive”, came to terms with his predicament by rationalizing that he was not a “ghost”, but just simply a personified memory.  He was still extremely scared of spirits, but he had found a way to exclude himself and the other unfortunate phantoms that roamed the building from his phobia.  The still functioning and physical animatronic however--

“S-Springtrap--!”

Yikes.  He gave the phantom the willies whenever they had a rare encounter with each other.  He knew who it was rotting away in there, possessing that wretched suit--  Toy Freddy had to give the owner of the attraction props, though.  They couldn’t have found a better candidate to be their star if they tried.

[fazbears-fright-ride]

(ooc; Hey, I just found your blog like, 2 mins ago and I saw that you were building a Mangle and that's really damn cool! I have a question, Is that Mangle gonna be an actual animatronic?)

YES it is an actual animatronic! It’s just a standalone head, so I can either hang it up (which I’ll be doing for Halloween) or carry it around like a puppet !

[five-fucked-up-nights]

The Final Night || Jacob Lincoln & SpringTrap

Owning some sort of business was something he had always wanted for himself. He always wanted to be a successful man, with enough money to move out of his crappy apartment and into some nice home with a white picket fence and maybe two cats and a tortoise. That be cool. He’d name them something like Sweet, Sour, and Sauce, just so he could have a laugh every now and then.

Well, now he was off-topic. He founded Fazbear Fright to sort of make fun of the dark business known as Fazbear Entertainment. He couldn’t keep track of how many nightmares he had gotten involving the terrifying animatronics, involving the dark and dirty corners where the other kids bullied him for how “girly” he looked. He started the place to erase the negativity and bring forth a more positive light.

Now at first, he didn’t have much. He bought the old building, full of mold and the occasional squatter. He got a good deal either way, and had some old friends come over and make a weekend of fixing the place up. What they couldn’t fix, they hid, with all of Jacob’s collection. He had gathered several authentic items over the years, including some party masks and old games. He even managed to get some extra parts, after loading the previous owner up with wine.

It was all coming together, and Jacob felt like this dream come true couldn’t get any better. He had everything he needed! Decor, ambiance, and an employee who would accept pay lower than minimum wage without any complaints! It couldn’t be more perfect.

Then he found the old animatronic.

It was quite the investigation when he tried to track it down. The current owner of the old Fazbear location was unable to be reached, but one of his secretaries offered Jacob a look around, saying he could collect any old items. And so he did, searching the building high and low. He barely got some drawings, and was going to call it quits-- But he discovered a secret door. It wouldn’t budge, and he swore he felt drawn to this room.

He snuck back into the building in the dead of night, armed with a hefty toolbox, and forced his way into the room with some difficulty, revealing a dusty, dreary room. It was a bust-- until he saw the old, damaged, rusty animatronic laying on the floor. It was stained and disgusting, probably several health code violations- but Jacob saw beauty. It was everything a collector could ever want.

He called some favors in, and he and a few pals transported the old thing to Fazbear Fright. Jacob was so giddy, he felt like he would cry. Sure, he took it without telling the original owner, but they did say that he could take old items. And this thing looked ancient, 20 or 30 years old at least.

He called up his employee eagerly, telling them of his find. He couldn’t wait to tinker on this thing, open the attraction up in the next week. However, he got another lead, and hardly had time to warn the employee of his new find. He went after it immediately, spending the rest of the week searching an old, large warehouse for more items. And he did find something: a bunch of vintage plushies. He returned to his city with the find safely in his car, happy.

He received a call, and was irritated to find that his only employee was in the hospital for some stupid mental problems. Well that was a disappointment. He was so ready to open the place up tomorrow….

Well, he could always just run the place alone for a few days.

The van rolled to a stop in the empty parking lot of Fazbear Fright, its engine dying down in a loud splutter. Jacob pulled his long blonde hair into its normal ponytail, carefully balancing his cigarette between his lips as he hummed to himself. If he could finish all the tinkering with the rabbit animatronic tonight, he could test run tomorrow, and open the place Friday.

He stepped out of the car, zipping his jacket up and fishing through his pockets for his lighter. He took his steps towards the building as he lit the cig up and took a long drag of it, sighing out happily and unlocking the building. He went in, humming a soft tune as he made his way to his office, taking the occasional puff of the cigarette.

He had no idea what was in store for him tonight

@springlockdeathtrap

[fazbear-security]

springlockdeathtrap has found fazbear-security

@springlockdeathtrap

Michael J. Schmidt was pretty confident that ‘corporate espionage’ had not been covered in his employment contract.

But come midnight, there he was, huddled in an old, creaky wooden chair in a hot, stuffy room with poor ventilation and no doors to speak of instead of a stiff metal chair in a cold, stale room with doors that ran on limited power.

What an upgrade for ten freaking dollars.

A sudden hollow, metal ‘THUMP’ echoed through the ‘security office’ of Fazbear’s Fright, and Mike froze. He dropped the maintenance panel and turned to the cameras, flicking between them as fast as he could. There was nothing in the hallways or rooms, or even in the vents (who puts cameras in the vents, anyway?), so….what had made the noise?

“Great…” Mike sighed and reached up to massage his temples. “I’m starting to hear things now. That’s a great sign for my mental health.” Swallowing, Mike grabbed for his flashlight and stood up from the chair, sparing the maintenance panel one last glance to make sure nothing needed rebooting, and walked to the door.

At the threshold, he stopped, fighting the cold grip of a fearful voice in his mind that screamed ‘don’t leave the office’. This wasn’t Freddy’s. The power wasn’t limited. There were no murderous animatronics lurking in the hallways, just waiting for him to step out of the (false) safety of the security office. This was just a rented building decorated for a cheap scare, and there was nothing out there that could harm him.

Mike Schmidt took a long, deep breath, and stepped out of the office.

“Hello?”

[fazbear-security]

N O P E

"Not enough coffee in the world for this."