𝙧𝙤𝙘𝙠 𝙤𝙣 !

indie & semi-selective classic bonnie from five nights at freddy’s! written by... me.

low activity!

          “   Why, sure, darlin’ !   Y’know, the little ones color plates and cut them up into shapes and stuff like that all the time.   There’s nothin’ to say we couldn’t go right ahead and do that, too !   ”    After all, what did the staff expect to happen when they didn’t put the art supplies away ?   OF COURSE a bunch of kid-friendly animatronics were going to play around with that stuff.

   And … anything else they could find, as evidenced by Bonnie’s mask.

   He hops over to the craft table, his little tail swishing as he surveys all the available materials.           “   Hm … goodness gracious, nobody cleaned up over here !   Tsk, tsk.   Well, sugar, what do you think ?   Finger paints or crayons ?   We should probably find a better way to keep it in place, too, but … GLUE, no, no, oh, that’s completely out of the question …   ”

He listens to the Toy chatter away as he approaches the table, eyes going over the abandoned materials scattered across the surface. Fingers twitch as he feels the urge to reach out and grab a marker, as if there was some primal urge to scribble on anything he could find -- but that’s not the goal here.

“A-A-AREN’T YOU?”

Though the higher-ups didn’t think it was necessary to implement newer features like facial recognition to his system, Bonnie didn’t need it to notice the uncomfortable familiarity of the man before him. He can’t pinpoint what draws him in about this guard, but seeing him makes his hands twitch with anticipation, imagining that he’s grabbing his arm and ---

He raises his head slightly to see the Toy better, red eyes unblinking as his gaze scan the other’s form -- perfect and pristine. Though he does his best to not hold it against this new line of models, a pang of envy finds its way through the cracks of his damaged ego. I’d really like to know too, Bonnie thinks, running the question through his head again and again. ‘ How did you even get yourself into this situation? ‘ ; it’s the third time he does, when he catches onto the implication that he did this to himself, that he deserves it. ( whether toy freddy meant to or not, it doesn’t matter. )

despite  being  caught  in  the  act,  roxanne  makes  no  effort  to  hide  her  actions.  she’s  got  one  thing  on  her  mind,  &&  only  one  thing;  revenge.  it’s  a  dish  best  served  spicy,  &&  roxanne  thinks  this  is  the  best  option.  instead  of  trying  to  hide  her  actions,  finally,  she  finishes  pouring  the  hot  sauce,  setting  the  now  empty  bottle  down  onto  the  counter  next  to  the  small  carton  of  milk.

“  i  saw  one  of  the  managers  bullying  a  younger  employee,  almost  made  ‘em  cry.  ”  she  pauses,  picking  up  the  small  carton  of  milk  &&  swirling  it  around,  making  sure  the  contents  are  properly  stirred.  all  she  had  to  do  now  was  give  the  milk  to  the  manager,  watch  the  chaos  go  down.  she  looks  up  at  bonnie,  mechanical  eyebrows  furrowing.  “  you  can  either  sit  here  &&  try  to  stop  me,  or  you  can  come  with  me  &&  watch.  i’m  not  gonna  let  someone  stand  by  &&  get  away  with  that  kind  of  behavior.  ”

Oh, wow. He can certainly admire her approach to dealing with bullies.

When she furrows her brows at him with a challenge of his morals , he quickly puts his palms up in a show of submission. “Wh- no, of course not!! I-I mean, stopping you, that is,” Bonnie stammers, eyes darting between Roxanne and the carton. Even if he wanted to stop her, he was almost certain that she’d turn him to a pile of scrap easily.

☆ . /  starter  for  @rockbon​

these  are  not  his  actions .

these  are  not  his  emotions .

this  is  not  his  body ! !  

what  is  he  even  feeling  at  the  moment ?  he  feels–  senseless ,  but  at  the  same  time  like  there’s  a  crushing  weight  upon  his  chest .  it’s  like  thick  fog  amongst  a  great  sea ,  or  perhaps  he’d  fallen  overboard  and  he’s  watching  everything  from  below  her  mighty  waves .  was  this  homesickness ?  why does  everything  feel  like  its  underwater ?  and  where  is  that  accursed  BANGING  coming  from ?     

the  ai  lodged  in  this  metallic  creature  scarcely  processes  just  how  it  had  even  gotten  to  its  current  location :  foxy  KNOWS  he  is  active–  visual  feed  shows  checkered  floors  and  a  narrow  hallway ;  his  running  initiative  must  have  acted  up  again .  above  him  now  loomed  a  broad  neon  sign .  the  exit ?  had  he  run  all  the  way  to  the  back ? 

suddenly  he  comprehends  why  he  hears  a  loud  BANG !  BANG !  BANG !  repeating  unrelentingly–  it’s  his  own  doing .  his  right  arm  jerks  and  swings  like  a  reflex ,  banging  at  the  door .   what  are  you  doing ?   his  slow  processor  thinks  to  itself ,  as  if  half-asleep . he  can’t  leave ,   it’s  against  his  programming !  and  even  if  he  would …  where  would  he  even  go ?  he  can’t  go  home .  

but  he  keeps  on  hitting  it ,  striking  it  again  and  again  with  his  iron  claw .  he  doesn’t  fight  it ,   he  can’t  find  a  reason  to .  he  feels  his  jaw  dangle  helplessly ,  his  circuitry  fire  and  sizzle ,  his  audio  is  on  too–  he  can  feel  his  voice  box  vibrate ,  but  it  feels  like  something  has  him   tight   by  the  throat . 

“L̶̟̂͜Ẹ̸̗̬̰͋̆̆Ṫ̵̞̳ ̷̤̍̇ ̵̛̹̺̅͆͠M̷̬̀̃̾Ȩ̷̭̏̆͐͘ ̸͍̔̏̄̓ ̸̲̟͓̃̓̋͝ͅO̵̞͒̀̏́Ṵ̵̬̈̌͜T̴̯͝ ̵͈̙̝̑̀̇!̷̧̪̜̩̌͒ ̶̧̛ ̷̯̭̒̇̇͂L̵͍͇̱̂̇̇E̵̱͖̜̺͊̂T̶̮̂͘̕ ̴̯̬̃ ̴̯̣͇̥̑̐͠M̴̼̠̯̈̊Ë̶̼́͋̒̋ ̸͚͑ ̷̧̣̯̐̎̀O̷̧̬͌͐̏͠Ú̵̗T̸͉͕͍̋̈́͘ ̸̢̺͙̈́̃!̶̟̋̒̀̚ ”

He doesn't always know when the shift in his consciousness happens from daytime to nighttime roaming mode ; sometimes it's seamless, but on nights where things are a bit more restless... it can be jarring to the system.

Thankfully, tonight it’s the former, but Bonnie can feel something stir when the banging starts. The noise is agitating to his own senses ( something about it is too reminiscent of what he once knew and it's frightening. he wants to curl up until it stops. ) BANG ! BANG ! BANG ! BANG ! BANG ! BANG !-- but then comes the shriek, so desperate that it could almost be mistaken for a wailing child if it weren’t for the robotic rasp.

He rushes towards the source, both of his own worry and obligation of programming to follow the sound; but with every step that he takes means the banging gets louder. ( stop it stop it stop it !!! ) But he can’t -- because he’s spotted the culprit and it’s Foxy. If the wail of his voice box wasn’t enough of a giveaway of the distress, the jerky motions of his body certainly were.

mmmm thinkin about the kiddo............

it  feels  like  he’s  been  running  forever,  fueled  by  pure  adrenaline  &&  fear,  paired  with  the  hope  that  he’ll  be  able  to  make  it  out  by  6am.  what  if  it  was  only  just  a  hope?  maybe  running  in  the  underground  tunnels  wasn’t  the  best  idea  either,  being  down  there  didn’t  ensure  his  safety,  just  gave  the  animatronics  the  chance  to  reach  out  &&  grab  him  if  they  felt  like  it.

the  tunnels  are  eerily  quiet,  only  the  sounds  of  his  footsteps  can  be  heard  echoing  through  the  halls.  then  all  of  a  sudden,  an  unfamiliar  voice  breaks  the  silence,  perhaps  the  mysterious  voice  heard  his  footsteps.  

the  creature  says  they’re  lost  like  him,  &&  so,  childlike  curiosity  gets  the  better  of  him.  he  stops  running,  curiously  turning  toward  the  sound  of  the  voice,  desperately  hoping  that  whoever’s  speaking  to  him  isn’t  out  to  get  him,  &&  that  they  can  somehow  help  him  out  of  here.  switching  on  his  flashlight,  he  sees  the  silhouette  of  the  rabbit  ears  first,  that  alone  is  enough  to  make  him  stop.  but  upon  further  examination,  he  notices  that  the  bunny  looks  nothing  like  vanny,  &&   even  looks  to  be  in  pretty  bad  shape.  he  could  hopefully  outrun  it  if  he  had  to.

“  l-lost?  you’re  lost  too?  ”  sucking  in  a  breath,  he  inches  toward  the  rabbit,  &&  it  clicks;  maybe  this  was  bonnie,  the  missing  bunny  freddy  had  previously  told  him  about.  “  you  must  be  bonnie,  freddy  told  me  about  you.  maybe  i  can  get  you  out  of  here.  ”

being down here felt like his own personal hell ; damaged, lost, and all alone. his internal clock had lost track a long time ago, so whether he’d been down here for minutes / hours / days / months.. he didn’t know. after roaming around for a while, he’d become stationary and resigned to a sleep state -- not quite dead, not quite alive either.

that is, until the little patter of footsteps triggered his audio feed. he couldn’t see anyone, but the sound was clear -- unless this was a symptom of his degrading system. but bonnie is desperate, so he called out, hoping that they weren’t hallucinations.

--- the flashlight that shines over him blinds him briefly, and honestly, there’s a sense of embarrassment to be seen in this state. ( the beloved bonnie the bunny ; reduced to a pile of scrap! ) only then does he make out the silhouette of a child ; this visual stirs up his old AI, and the pre-recorded line is on the tip of his metaphorical tongue.. except that it’s too aged to override his own will.

his ears twitch clumsily as the boy mentions freddy, the red pinpricks of his exposed face seeming to shine brighter, casting a faint red glow onto the other. freddy’s here? the boy has seen him?

“Y-y-yuUp! Th-th-that’s mee-e-e, BO-o-Onnie the-e-e bu-bu-uu-unny!!” his words are followed by a weak glitchy laugh and the squeak of metal as he extends his hand out to the boy, revealing his exposed ' bones ‘. “YO-O-Ouuu me-e-et Fr-fr-eeeddy? H-h-HE’S A RE-E-AL good BEAR-R-R,” an awkward nod of his head, as if affirming this fact.