Oh, cool! Its eyes were of a distinctly different design than the Afton ‘bots, and he had to, again, question the multiple rows of teeth – what were those even for? – but there was a gush of nostalgia in his chest he certainly hadn’t been expecting, yet welcomed nonetheless. “Oh… the old designs were just so much more charming… not that I’m old, or you for that matter! No, we’re both still quite fresh, wouldn’t you say?”
He squinted at the back of the bot, hands hovering over the switches. Free-roam, showtime. So like the Fazbear crew. Well, free-roam had gotten a few people into trouble, hadn’t it? Best start with showtime. He clicked the appropriate button and sat back, smiling.
In all truth, the odd eyes were all but a mark of the fact he had been decommissioned; originally the eyeballs had been covered by a plastic casing to show normal, reddish, eyes. As for the extra row of teeth, it was just a design characteristic of Rowbotics, they liked to conceal Endo teeth as much as possible. All the technicalities put aside, the animatronic, once set on a mode, began to once again move its old joints and speak:
“Good day, everyone! Welcome to Candy’s Burgers, I’m Candy, Candy the cat!”
He began, a drastic change of voice from a text-to-speech to a happy old timer. But right off as he was to begin a show…his optics shifted a bit and his ears lowered.
“Oh, it seems like almost no one has come yet for the show!”
“But don’t worry, my friends. Soon enough I’m sure we’ll have enough people for the show to begin, come back a bit later!”
And with that said, the animatronic went back to stand-by mode - as in, completely still, but still activated. As if he was really waiting for more people to arrive.
This was a bit disappointing, but hey! At least he had enough of a programming to not start shows without enough people on the room he was at.
“Is this thing intact?” He squatted down in front of the animatronic, trying to keep the excitement from his face. Candy the Cat, of Candy’s Burger and Fries! And an original model, no less! Where had they gotten their hands on one? Reaching into his bag, Michael drew out a small set of tools and began tinkering with the faceplates, then the shoulders, searching for a way in. If he could just access the internal wiring, he was sure he could get it working again – and he wanted nothing more than to see it in motion. After a few minutes of scooting around, he managed to pry open a piece on the back and dig into the meat of the problem, muttering all the while. “You know, I was never allowed at Candy’s when I was a kid?” His tone became rougher, mocking. “One of my children, wearing Candy’s merchandise? I wouldn’t be caught dead. Ha. I always thought a cat would have been cool, but apparently it was ‘too close for copyright comfort’. I don’t think they could’ve handled another lawsuit at that point. Still… it would have been nice, to have a party at Candy’s just once. Change of scenery from– aha.” With a click and a whir, he felt the machinery begin to warm up under his hands, and he stepped back, wiping his forehead. “Oh, Hell yes.”
And slowly, but surely, the animatronic before him began to stir back to life; with its joints noisy as each and every lacked any sort of lubrication to boot, but eventually the old cat stood up in full, and his mouth opened wide:
All said in a voice reminiscent of a text-to-speech program - clearly the robot had been retrofitted with some more sophisticated technology, even if it, in fact, was the very same model built in 1964.
❝ e ─ e ─ evr’ybody’s actin’ so lo ─lo ─ lowly . si ─ ittin’ around , gettin’ m ─ m ─ moldy .❞
( ♫ : turmoil── dheusta . )
Twas the first words uttered amid the humid and putrid air of the room, inside a backroom long forgotten, concealed behind a shiny and bright new restaurant. It was a shock of locations so absurd, a ordinary person won’t believe both coexisted so closely.
At a first moment the other decayed machine laid motionless, even with life refusing to let go of its gears, the being refused to attempt to act on it - he gave up his fight, as it was foolish to assume he could just walk away from his demise.
“…eventually…you get used to it…and learn to ignore it…”
Was all that was said as a response. In a clean tone and volume, as if the withered steel and cloth didn’t age a single day inside the metallic cat’s body.
What else could he offer but a grim but desperately optimistic response? Nothing much, but, ironically, he couldn’t bring himself to give up on the possibility he’d rest someday for good.
it shouldn’t be able to feel dejection , or the void feeling that came with knowing this is it , this is your reality now , and yet it does ───and the springsuit shudders with it , or spasms from a misdirected current of electricity , who could be certain ? ( those things from the old freddy’s location , they always did seem a little too lifelike , huh ? )
❝ n─nnngh , ❞the springsuit , slouched too far over in a corner , stutters . its voice box too clogged by dust and muck . but it still turns an eye to watch the machine left to the floor , with what could be curiosity , or a steadily building apathy─── mainly confusion . this wasn’t the first time it had been in storage with another , but its memory fails to recall a cat among fredbear’s mascots .
❝ nn─n─n─no ,❞it finally wheezes out , slumping further forward , over its knees . ❝ ii'hm── i’m n─not── s'pposed t’be here . . .❞ right?
“NEITHER of us should be!”
As abrupt as the (long-ago-it-was) yellow rabbit slumping himself forwards, it was the cat’s snapping it’s neck into facing the other (it threating to break themselves) and the aggressive change of tone - as if an insult was throw in the room.
“Those…thosebastards! After everything we’ve done for them…we are throw away like scrap!”
He protested, his rusted jaw opening to spill his resentments.
“Ohhhh, what I won’t do to get my hand on their necks! They fear us, I won’t be without any legs otherwise, nor would you be missing parts of yours.”
He somewhat finished his ranting, eyes darting at the faint light that came under the fake wall.
As unexpected as it was, a simple question prompted a entirety different dialogue - one filled with hatred by an animatronic just as betrayed.
He was surprised to find that his stomach dropped a bit. He’d grown up around animatronics such as this; he didn’t find them as off-putting as most people, and had never really understood the horror stories people wove around them. Sure, he’d participated in passing them on – don’t stay overnight at Freddy’s, something will get you! was an oft-repeated tease at his school when he was younger, until it became true – but he’d never bought them. If there was an issue at Freddy’s ( or Candy’s ), it was with the humans working there. He was certain of it. ( A robot had killed a child, once, and that had been a human’s fault. That had been– )
“I’m Michael!” Best to greet it with a smile, and not to think of the old restaurant, and what had happened there. “I’m repairing you. You’re in a bit of a state.”
Luckily for him was the fact the cat animatronic was…less than able to notice anything beyond a partially blurred smiling face. At the very least, he could make out most of the words directed at him;
“Oh DeaR! SooorrY for the troubl-e yoUng spoRT. HoPE I ai’Nt much of BOTher.”
He apologised for his current state, even if it wasn’t his fault. Old Candy just felt bad for having to give so much work to the staff; if anything he tried to give them a break at times.
“Just, LeMMMMe sit a biait.”
Said and done; the metallic old-timer slowly made of the (mostly) empty table his seat. Good thing it was a metal table!
His lone hand finds the mechanical paw of the older, withering animatronic. Albeit it was challenging with one hand, he was more than accustom to dancing with Bon-Bon occupying his right arm and you did not necessarily have to be good to dance.
❛ You looked like you could use a little fun in your activation! ❜ Funtime Freddy cheered in elation. It really did prompt his sorbose to run cold when he witnessed another animatronic so down-hearted and beaten. It was unintelligible just how much the feline had been through but if it was anything like Funtime Freddy’s and Bon-Bon’s endeavours; it was indisputably distressing. To make things easier the robotic bunny opted to climb onto Old Candy’s shoulder, hanging on there and chuckling joyously.
❛ You’ll have to excuse Freddy he gets really excited when we get new company around here! ❜
❛ I bet you were pretty ROCKING in your golden days, old-timer! ❜
It was out of the usual to see the old cat in such a state; he was a ancient animatronic, but who never let his mood down and faced each activation with a positivity, as much as he knew his end could come tomorrow. He was a fatherly and, mostly importantly, a figure of hope.
…but today he wasn’t like that: Ever since he awakened in the underground facility he noticed a odd occurrence, that being, Blank nowhere in view. As he discovered later, his bandmate and friend was deactivated, and no matter how many times he tried to, he couldn’t turn on his brother-in-all-but-name.
It was no wonder he wore a sad expression in his face, one so apparent not even his limited facial structure was able to hide.
While sitting by himself, in a hidden part of the Breaker Room (his dark color have him little worry in disturbing the occupants of it, he was a hard target to see in the darkness) he barely managed to account for the presence of one of the Funtimes; this being of Freddy and Bon-Bon themselves, odd fellows as the old cat himself would say.
As the feline was about to address them, even standing up, his paw was catch by the sole free hand of the white bear. As elation was expressed, and the handpuppet held himself at his shoulder, the realization was quick to come: he was being invited to dance!
The old bot wasn’t built with such activity in mind, fact being that he just didn’t and wasn’t good at dancing…but was there any excuse to not, especially now?
“Oh no no, I don’t mind it; being alone gets uneventful very quick!” Was the answer to the bunny’s concerns; if anything he found so much excitement endearing. Oh boy, if it didn’t remind him of older days.
“Rocking? Maybe! But waltzing, not so much; not that I’d refuse a dance.”
Came the double answer to the bear, a friendly warning on his own inexperience, even if he accepted the offer.
Blank? That was interesting. Had someone left placeholder text in the text-to-speech program? But that– didn’t sound like text-to-speech. As a matter of fact, it sounded like a prerecorded line. A test, then, maybe? But ‘blank’ was such an odd choice! Was it to see how the machine would handle a human voice track? Blank as in boy, as in balloon, as in ball, but why not those words? Why ‘blank’?
“Hullo!” Animatronics were heavy, and one that was still processing its surroundings and getting a feel for its legs ( so to speak ) was dangerous, so Michael made sure to hug the wall and give it a wide berth. He’d seen people lose eyes to swinging robots, and he didn’t fancy wearing a patch for the rest of his life ( as cool as that may have been for a character like Foxy ). “I’m just running some tests.” Did it have any sort of aural recognition? Would it understand ‘test’ as part of its programming?a
Wonky steps taken forward, feet threatening to give in, the dark blue cat eventually found a table to support himself. God, his EVERYTHING hurt (somehow)…all was blurry and his joints were almost ungodly dry of any lubrication, how long had he been deactivated?
His audio devices (his ears, in simpler terms) barely registered the man’s words, at best he understood “yellow(?)” and “test”.
“W-WhereamI?WHO-hoareyaaa??”
It was evident he was barely getting a hold of himself, just look at his face! By the looks, it has been some time since he last was awaken to say the least.
“Is this thing intact?” He squatted down in front of the animatronic, trying to keep the excitement from his face. Candy the Cat, of Candy’s Burger and Fries! And an original model, no less! Where had they gotten their hands on one? Reaching into his bag, Michael drew out a small set of tools and began tinkering with the faceplates, then the shoulders, searching for a way in. If he could just access the internal wiring, he was sure he could get it working again – and he wanted nothing more than to see it in motion. After a few minutes of scooting around, he managed to pry open a piece on the back and dig into the meat of the problem, muttering all the while. “You know, I was never allowed at Candy’s when I was a kid?” His tone became rougher, mocking. “One of my children, wearing Candy’s merchandise? I wouldn’t be caught dead. Ha. I always thought a cat would have been cool, but apparently it was ‘too close for copyright comfort’. I don’t think they could’ve handled another lawsuit at that point. Still… it would have been nice, to have a party at Candy’s just once. Change of scenery from– aha.” With a click and a whir, he felt the machinery begin to warm up under his hands, and he stepped back, wiping his forehead. “Oh, Hell yes.”
“Well, would you look at that?” Impressive! Then again, perhaps he’d only imagined Candy would be less advanced out of corporate bias. If they had been that successful for that long, they must have been doing something right – including not wasting power and money and servos on shows for an empty restaurant. Could he trick the system into believing that there were multiple people in the room? There were plenty of masks around; maybe he could set them up beside him, make a crowd out of paper. How complicated was the system? Could he bypass it entirely?
“Where are you even storing this stuff?” he muttered, tongue catching between his teeth as he pried at the back panel a bit more. It had to be programmed internally if it was running without a remote control, which meant there had to be a chip telling it what to do. He hesitated to fully remove any plating yet, though. It would be a shame to ruin a vintage animatronic like this. Better to test the structure, then. “I wonder what you’re made of… graphite? Or something heavier? Activate free roam mode.”
Truth be told, Afton’s Robotics only ever overshadowed Rowbotics’ in reputation for most of their long rivalry, in terms of robotics they were always equal-to-equal often enough. Now, this Candy in particular was no state-of-the-art robot (the one to hold such praise was all but forgotten by most), even back in the 60s he wasn’t very impressive (being almost entirely based on failed previous models, with the necessary fixes and enhancements).
As the necessary commands were made to switch his mode, the animatronic almost fell into the ground, but it quickly got back at his feet seemingly…shocked?
“BLANK!”
Words uttered by a voice radically different from the one heard before, as if a real person talked in their natural voice. A tone of desperation on it as it included forward at the unexpected waking up.
