NEW PATHS.

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 !!

    “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 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.”

    “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.”

@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?”

    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.”

    “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.”

    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.”

    “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.

    “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?”

    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.”

    “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.”

    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.

    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.”