OUT OF ORDER.

[Compared to his fellow animatronics, Foxy tended to be more energetic about his encounters with their subscribers -- he could scarcely contain himself, racing all over the place and chuckling, taunting the poor fool all the while unless they could somehow manage to subdue him. Perhaps it was only natural after ages of being cooped up; he rather enjoyed regaining his vigor after all that time, getting to enjoy himself and bathe in this sort of “limelight,” hunting down those who’d been naive enough to sign up for Fazbear Entertainment’s delivery services. Perhaps he ought to be spending that time being their companions, as the app actually implied, but...that wasn’t necessarily what he or his programming wanted, now, was it?]

[A sadistic sense of delight washed over him once this next consumer’s door was in sight, a hearty pirate’s laugh bellowing from within him ( unable to be subdued, whether he wanted it to be or not ). He jauntily slammed the doorbell with his hook a few times as a warning before rushing the door, since it came apart far easier than those in his original pizzeria, and cloaked himself, glancing around the room for his next victim. Although she was somewhat...small -- young, perhaps, which caught him off-guard a bit -- he stood his ground, delivering one of his classic lines ( albeit with a bit less enthusiasm than usual ).]

[A few moments had passed now -- the camera’s recording light hadn’t flickered, indicating that the guard hadn’t checked up on his cove in that time. The pirate had already separated himself entirely from his cove by this point, beyond the “out of order” sign that adorned the entrance to his realm; the guard’s absent-mindedness here would certainly be his downfall if the fox was swift enough. Hurriedly, the animatronic rushed into the west hall, speeding past the rabbit who’d already been inhabiting the area, and shoved his hook and exposed endoskeleton hand into the door before it could be slammed shut.]

-- ❝ Avast ye! Seems yer time’s about run out! ❞ 

yarr!!! hit that mf ❤ button or reply ( & specify muse if yer from a multimuse, lest ye be forced to walk the plank ) for a starter from yer local pirate fox! just a warnin’: there’ll be no quarter for ya.

                          “ohhhhhhhhhhhh.” he gave an almost sagely nod, as if he were in awe over the perceived wisdom that foxy spoke, but only moments after he uttered the noise, he gave a small smile, promptly shouting “I DONT GET IT!!!!!!!!!!!!” as he continued to sweep the mop back and forth across the floor, not moving from his spot as he repeated the rhythmic action over and over and over again. maybe it was a good thing no one else was around, because he’d neglected to look for a wet floor sign, and the floor was going to be REALLY slippery after this!

he only stopped when his fellow robot mentioned the word adventure, blue eyes shining brightly beneath his suit as he found himself incredibly overexcited over the proposal, and his excitement only GREW when he elaborated on what that aforementioned adventure might entail. how could he forget! adventuring was what pirates did best, ESPECIALLY when that adventure included finding treasure. imagine how happy zim would be if he brought some treasure home for him! maybe he could even get a little crown to wear. minimoose would be SO jealous. pretty soon, gir was bouncing in place, the tail of his dog costume wagging like that of a reak dog’s.

“I WANNA GOES ON AN ADVENTURE!!!! we gonna find treasure???? i never found no pirate treasure before!!!”

[When his fellow automaton nodded, the realization that piracy consisted of more than grueling menial labor finally dawning on him, the pirate chinned up; perhaps now his shipmate would grasp the reality of his earlier proposal, and all that joining Foxy’s crew truly entailed! Surely, no landlubber would dream of being a swashbuckler for the potential of cleaning the decks of the ship, now, would they? Especially not one as hyperactive as this little lad here.]

[However, his hopes that the mongoose dog had comprehended his initial words were dashed when he retracted his words, instead shrieking “I DON’T GET IT” at the top of his nonexistent lungs. A disheartened “yarr” escaped the fox’s unhinged jaw, his hooked hand holding his head in slight disappointment -- alright, so that hadn’t worked. Did his young buccaneer really not associate any other thrills with the high stakes gamble of piracy? There were so many more aspects to it than keeping the ship in...well, ship-shape, even if that was rather significant. Plundering booty, sword fighting, treasure hunting ( different from plundering ), even the little things like firing cannons at enemy ships and basking in the open sea!]

[Thankfully, before he could agonize too much over it, his mate finally seemed to register Foxy’s words -- in particular, “adventure.” Soon enough, the tiny mascot was bouncing up and down, tail wagging enthusiastically; that delight was echoed by the captain himself, who mimicked a grin to the best of his ability. The fox displayed an ounce of hesitance once he was asked about treasure, however...what treasure was there to be found in a Freddy’s joint? Pizza? Certainly nothing of actual value, not since the company removed the old ( toy ) doubloons and miniature chests that used to be buried in the sandbox around here.]

[But then, it hit him -- Faz-Tokens. Weren’t those just as valuable as their previous incarnations, if not moreso? Besides, it’d encourage his little shipmate to return...during the day, even. While that wasn’t much of a boon to Foxy himself, it’d be a bonus for his pizzeria, and that was technically a bonus for everyone if he wanted himself and his buddies to remain intact for a bit longer. He did one of those little snapping motions with his non-hooked hand, except he couldn’t snap, so it was just an excited sort of hand twirl.]

-- ❝ Aye, lad, I’ve got just the treasure in mind! ❞ [That being said, it wouldn’t be the same “digging up” some Faz-Tokens ( in other words, robbing the Prize Corner or the front counter by the entrance ) without an enthralling tale behind it. All great buried treasures had stories behind them or curses of some sort attached, and luckily, Foxy had been programmed with special Freddy’s-themed ones to weave for such an occasion.] 

                 “WOOOO!! i’m a PIRATE!!!!!!!!!” this declaration was made with another loud scream. it was probably good that the two were both robots and incapable of being as bothered as a human would be by such a noise and also that it was the middle of the night so no one else was around to hear the little robot screaming at the top of his nonexistent lungs. gir wasted no time in dashing away in search of cleaning supplies, making quite a mess of the restaurant while doing so, but finally returning with a mop and bucket he had found in a nearby storage closet. the only problem was that he didn’t really know where in this display the poop deck was supposed to be, so he simply began messily mopping the floor in front of the mechanical fox.

-- ❝ That, ye are. Or should I say, arrrgh? ❞ [An extremely lame bit of pun-based humor, if the fellow mascot could appreciate it; another brief stereotypical bout of pirate laughter followed, a sign that he was not only clearly unperturbed by the screeching of his latest crew member, but that he was pathetically amused by his own dumb jokes. Thankfully, it didn’t seem that there was a night guard on-duty tonight ( truth be told, Foxy couldn’t recall whether they’d killed the recruit from this week -- that might’ve been last week, since his perception of time was a bit off ), and if there was, he must’ve been deaf. That, or tonight’s phone call was obscenely loud, muffling all the other sounds in the pizzeria.]

[Nevertheless, the mongoose dog dashed away in a heartbeat, leaving Foxy to his own devices for a moment; it was difficult to discern what transpired beyond the realm of his curtains, but judging by the cacophony of noise outside his humble cove, his shipmate was causing quite a ruckus out there. In the process of grabbing cleaning supplies ( which were rather unnecessary, considering that the cove had been in a perpetual state of solitude and emptiness ever since the staff discarded the old sets, props, and toys ages ago ), GIR had likely made more of a mess than the one he intended to clean up. Maybe once he’d swabbed the poop deck around here, he could convince his mate to clean up the “forecastle deck” -- the area just outside the cove, as he would insist later on.]

[Eventually, the mongoose dog returned to his post, mopping the floor in front of them with about as much nimbleness as one would anticipate from a toddler. Alright, perhaps asking him to pick up his mess outside of the cove was a no-go -- old captain Foxy would likely have to sweep that up himself later. Regardless of how sloppy the clean-up job was, though, the fox remained content and even humored; it was like dealing with the children he used to entertain all over again, and this time around ( since it was a fellow animatronic ), he posed no threat to him. It was ideal, and he was rather grateful for that.]

“mhmmmmm!!!!” gir nodded frantically at the question before sipping loudly at the slushie he held in his hands. he finished the treat in a single breath, but continued to suck on the straw, emitting some rather loud noises as the fox-like mechanism continued speaking. once he’d finished speaking, (and once gir had had enough time to process his response- translating pirate speak wasn’t easy, yknow) gir let out an ear-piercing screech of excitement, waving his arms around and dropping the empty cup to the ground.

“I GOTTA BE A PIRATE!!!!! i always wantsted to be a pirate!!!! MY LEGS ARE DOG LEGS!!! mongoose dog legs!!!” hopefully that wouldn’t be a problem. of course, he couldn’t help but wonder if this fox had multiple sets of legs for different situations? how cool would that be? “CAN I CLEAN THE POOP DECK???”

[Foxy hadn’t seen a potential recruit this exhilarated since he was still in service; the little landlubbers who visited his cove used to exemplify this attitude, but chaotic as they were, they tended to be more restrained than this. He lowered his eyelid to express his amusement, since his design made him incapable of “smiling,” finding himself entertained by his only shipmate already. Apparently, he’d always dreamed of being a pirate, much like the children who used to frequent his stage -- that, and he found it necessary to reveal that his legs belonged to a...”mongoose dog.” That was a new one. Were they inventing species to become animatronic mascots now?]

-- ❝ Aye, and ye are one now, matey. Yer welcome ‘round these parts -- me legs aren’t what they used to be, so new pairs o’ all kinds’re appreciated. ❞ [Granted, they were fully functioning, and he could still stand; however, the endoskeleton of his lower legs was uncannily exposed. There was wear and tear akin to that all across his body ( holes along his torso revealed glimpses into his inner wiring, for instance ), but none quite as severe as that. Mongoose dog legs weren’t such a big deal. A slight laugh emerged from the pirate when the dog asked to clean the poop deck, however -- he had free reign over it if he was that excited about it, but Foxy had assumed that his fellow pirate would want his first responsibility to be anything but menial labor.]

              zim had asked him to come here for some reason, but by the time he managed to break his way into the pizzeria, gir immediately lost all focus on whatever mission he he was supposed to be accomplishing. even in the dead of the night, the blue eyes beneath his suit were glowing brightly with excitement at all of the games and food and oh fuck was that a pirate display. after casually stealing making himself a slushie he wandered over, blinking in confusion when he heard a voice. thankfully, it didn’t take him too long to figure out where the noise had come from, and he looked up at the eyepatched robot in absolute wonder.

“yarr??? you a pirate??? YOUS A PIRATE????? CAN I BE A PIRATE?????”

[Hearing a tuned voice confirmed the pirate’s suspicions that whatever was in that suit was robotic in nature; however, everything else about the automaton’s boisterous nature struck the fox as surprising. None of his friends, even those programmed to be excitable and giddy at all hours of the day, were quite as enthusiastic...especially about becoming a swashbuckler. The animatronic’s own eyes glowed with fascination of his own -- he’d assumed that this mascot was yet another friend meant to accompany the band on the other stage, that he was meant to be isolated as always, but this...this was a welcomed surprise. It was...heartwarming, if he was allowed to call it that.]

[...This was an unconventional scenario; while there was the occasional intruder in his cove, usually a vandal or teenager looking to fulfill a dare, he’d rarely encountered an animal...at that, one standing upright. Upon closer, curiosity-inspired inspection, he spied some rather shoddy stitch-work on this costumed...mascot. For now, his mechanical mind presumed that he was a fellow animatronic of some sort, and responded accordingly, despite him clearly not belonging to Fazbear Entertainment, or the franchise as a whole.]

     ＄.    “Oh…” It was not boy’s intent to sound so disappointed. In actuality this was about the coolest thing that could of happened today; regardless of the high expectations his imagination with holds it too. Right– Robots can’t read mind. That’s like.. magic stuff. No way magic was involved in this…

          That would just be absurd..

   Pirates definitely weren’t know for telepathic abilities either. Stan should know, Pirates were his favorite. “I know I’m not ‘pose to be back here.. but… “ a diligent kick to the floor; the soles of his shoe’s skating across the unkempt floor. “You’re so cool!! N’ everyone out there is lame.” 

           “Can ya tell me a pirate story? Jus’ one and then I prooooommmise i’ll leave!”

[Judging by the boy’s expressed disillusionment, he’d been anticipating some mind-reading tricks here -- unfortunately, the pirate couldn’t deliver on that. Despite his advanced interactive capabilities, his phrases were still pre-programmed, and he doubted it was within his ability to guess, let alone voice, the thoughts of a sentient being. Nor would he want to, anyway.]

[What followed, however, was a rather self-aware admission; right when the fox intended to act on the moment, and insist that the boy head back to safety, he was bombarded with a compliment he hadn’t received in ages. “You’re so cool...” it was incredible how drastically those sorts of opinions shifted over the years, now that Foxy was out of order and associated with too many incidents to count. He hadn’t heard a child refer to him as the best of the bunch in years, and it filled him with a sort of nostalgic pride that led him to ignore his safety protocols.]

[The lad wanted a pirate story, eh? Thankfully, Foxy had been programmed to tell plenty of them; he could give one final performance, couldn’t he...? So long as he kept his distance and ensured that he wouldn’t malfunction, they ought to be safe...besides, he never seemed to twitch around children the same way he did around adults.]

     ＄.    “AH!” Not that Foxy was scary— Okay he kinda was; but still, he mostly just startled him since he never expected someone to actually answer him. All sense of logic flew right out the window of his child like mind. Though he may be 8– he was no stranger to getting lost in imagination. And right now his imagination was flourishing.

           “Wwooaahhh!!!”

    He didn’t except any animatronic back here to be functional. It was like meeting the idol he didn’t even know he idolised… Guess everything the Pirate said went over his head as well. “A real life pirate robot?!” 

            “Can you actually understand me?”                “What am I thinking of RIGHT now?”

[With the child’s brief scream, followed by an outburst of presumed amazement, the pirate stepped back a bit, blinking in bewilderment. Attention from a child was a matter he’d grown a tad rusty with, due to being holed up on this stage without company for what felt like an eternity -- so in a sense, he was precisely as stupefied as the boy himself. Nevertheless, he still had a mission of his own, to deter the kid back to the world beyond the curtains...] 

[However, that reminder to himself went out the window when the child insisted on Foxy reading his mind. Was he leaping to conclusions because his artificial intelligence was capable of interacting with the world around him? Probably. This was a little kid, after all...he might be overwhelmed by the fact that a robot, an animatronic, could process the world around it.]

[Granted, the boy had every reason to be astounded -- the pirate’s AI, along with the other characters’, of course, was state-of-the-art. Their creator had been a genius beyond his years.]

The idea had been to rope off the perimeter of the inside of the Cove–at least that’s what he had proposed when faced with the supplies. Weave it between whatever he could find–like a makeshift fence to keep those who might stray past the curtains from climbing further inside. Of course, any kid who had the guts to peek beneath the curtain likely wouldn’t be STOPPED by a simple rope, but it would slow them down. At least he hoped.   It certainly wouldn’t have stopped him–when he’d been that rambunctious. Probably for the best that the diner had never displayed the Captain…less he rob his parents of another child. 

Shoulders jolted at the question posed by the animatronic and he steps came to a halt–not that he’d forgotten the Fox was there, he just hadn’t expected to be…questioned concerning his productivity.  “O-Of course I do!” Came the sheepish answer, the man pausing to take a deeeeeep breath before forcing his stance to straighten. It wasn’t a lie–! He knew what he was supposed to be doing.  “T-There’s just uh. Well…there’s really nothing to…thread these th-th-through. To…to actually rope the stage off. W-Which should have been obvious from the s-s-start but uh. I-I guess no one really…took the time to check.” 

It made sense. The star covered curtain ran the length of the circular platform–anything between it would cause the fabric to get caught between performances and the fox wouldn’t have been able to sling the curtains back as easily. Or he could trip–falling and busting complicated machinery apart; fall onto a passing child. Both of which would mean more expenses for the company. 

Bandaged fingers curled before his index finger came upwards, scratching anxiously at the hollow of his cheek. 

“I-It’d be a waste to w-w-wrap them around the curtains. It’d just f-f-fall when you move them. Not to mention a s-sa-safety hazard…which. I-Isn’t good. Clearly.”

[Apparently, Scott had been meant to weave the rope through decorations inside the cove -- alas, since none of them were present, let alone near the edge of the stage, the entire endeavor was futile. Frankly, the fox couldn’t quite comprehend what the point was, especially when his initial idea for what the rope's use was shot down. Besides, neither method would work if one of those rapscallions was determined enough; for the most part, this entire exercise only revolved around intimidation...again, a gloomy notion alone for the pirate, but an ineffective measure altogether. Rambunctious teenagers wouldn’t let a bunch of signs and a slipknot deter them.]

[Scott’s response also came across as confounded -- precisely what Foxy had assumed he’d been. Did the company really not bother to check the cove, glance at what they might be able to work with? There wasn’t much in the form of ornamentation any longer, and such had been the case for years; a majority of his old props had been confiscated, along with a few of the old sets, reinforcing the idea that he’d never perform again. Perhaps none of the higher-ups recalled such matters...how vexing. He'd been abandoned, marooned, forgotten by his own creators...and while he’d gradually come to resent them for it, it still stung.]

[Reminding himself to get it together, he realized that the employee’s current dilemma presented him an opportunity -- while he couldn’t entirely devise a scheme for how to make proper use of the rope the man had been provided, he could offer some advice. That’s what friends were for, right? If the rope was proving to be baffling, then Scott ought to set it aside for now, concentrate on everything else first. Maybe a reason for its existence would come later, but if not, what should that matter? He’d be doing everything else properly.]

-- ❝ Aye, lad, I can see that. Those landlubbers stole me treasures long ago...there ain’t much left now, certainly nothin’ you could create a barrier out of. ❞ [Foxy’s tone was laced with the slightest bit of indignation, his eyelid twitching, but he settled himself down before attempting to guide the fellow.]