“Ohhhhh, look at you!”
Rather than, er, running in terror, as perhaps a saner man would have
done, on sight of the animatronic thing (he’d have to find a better name
for it later), the Doctor squatted down to meet it on eye-level, and –
very casually, for a person who had just met a would-be terrorizing
teddy-bear-robot-thing – reached out a hand. It was unassuming and
plain, waiting to be shaken.
“You are beautiful – love the wiring, that is… that is just a
work of beauty – and, I mean, don’t like to brag, but coming
from me, that’s saying something. Hello! I’m the Doctor,
good to meet you. Do you live here, can you show me
‘round? What’s your name?”
BEAUTIFUL, he says. Now that was a first. An unfit compliment, so far from the truth... it was utterly laughable. The strange man ( how the hell did he get inside? ) came to kneel before Him, holding not the slightest hint of FEAR within their wide, brown eyes; only wonder... curiosity. It unnerved the hare, having only been familiar with causing terror at the mere sight of His form– and sight aside, did they not notice the smell? The acrid tang of ROT emanating from the suit, tainting the air. Surely at this distance it would’ve been obvious? Though, perhaps they were being polite.
What a joke. Who were they to come in here, His sanctuary, the sole remaining thing left in Their possession... apart from this MOCKERY of a life They’d been granted as punishment. There was no desire for praise. It wasn’t part of the equation. He was reborn to illicit HORROR; to tear breathe from the unsuspecting lungs of any idiot who tried to play Guard. Nothing more than the main attraction, acting the part... and he’d be a fine actor indeed.
It took all His self control not to RIP the man’s arm clean from their shoulder as He slowly, calmly reached out to shake their offered hand. ❛ ...my name is SPRINGTRAP. ❜ He replied plainly, voice distorting into static– jumping different pitches, trailing off to silence. Joints, rusted by blood and time, complained with pops and creaks as He shifted His weight against the wall; twitching, rising up to His full height... dead orbs staring down, illuminating His guest’s face.
❛ ...I don’t give tours. I’m part of the RIDE, you see.
I do what I was put here to do, and the BRATS get paid. ❜
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