#life and times of star
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Prompt idea: Fnaf Actor au
Actors answering fans questions? Or just shenanigans & bloopers on set
Oooh, I do like a good actor AU, even if I’ve never written one before myself!
Interview
Gregory felt almost comically small in his chair between Freddy and Vanessa. His feet swung freely beneath him, not even close to reaching the footrest. He listened as the adults bantered a bit after Freddy finished answering the previous question; he was maybe a little bored, but it wasn’t too bad. And he’d been promised ice cream afterwards.
The interviewer finally moved on to the next question on her sheet, asking, “For each of you, is there any scene in particular that you enjoyed filming most?”
Vanessa laughed. “Oh, any scene where I got to be absolutely terrible. The plotting scenes with Will in the secret basement were some of my favorites.”
Grinning, Gregory poked her arm. “Running around in your bunny costume, not so much, right?”
Through her laughter, Vanessa explained, “I don’t know why they never changed it, but those bunny feet had zero traction. And with all the tile—I was constantly slipping.”
“You weren’t alone,” Freddy said ruefully. “The animatronic costumes… plastic and smooth tile simply do not mix.”
“I think we were all pretty jealous of Gregory’s sneakers,” Vanessa snickered, nudging him.
Gregory lifted his feet up and clicked them together, setting off the lights lining the sides. “My secret weapon,” he joked. “It’s why you never managed to catch me.”
The interviewer laughed along with them, and once they started to calm down, prompted Vanessa, “You enjoyed playing the villain, then?”
“Loved it,” she agreed easily. “I think this was my favorite role out of any I’ve ever had.”
“It’s been uniquely fun for most of us,” Freddy added. “Being so silly in what is otherwise a horror story—it’s been quite the experience.”
“And your favorite scene to film?”
Freddy reached over and ruffled Gregory’s hair. “It’s hard to choose, but I think the our laser tag scene wins by a small margin.”
“He’s really bad at laser tag in real life, though,” Gregory told the interviewer.
She barked a laugh. “Oh? Did you all play together?”
“The studio rented out the arena for several days. When we happened to finish filming there ahead of schedule, it simply made sense to put the remaining day to good use.” Freddy ducked his head a bit. “Gregory is correct, though—laser tag is not one of my strong suits.”
“The rest of us had played before,” Vanessa consoled him, reaching over Gregory to pat Freddy’s shoulder.
“I hadn’t!” Gregory said.
“Yeah, but blasting robots during filming totally counts as practice!”
He stuck his tongue out at her, and she stuck hers out right back.
“And what about you, Gregory?” the interviewer said before they could escalate. “Did you have a favorite scene to film?”
He’d thought about it while Vanessa and Freddy answered, so he nodded, grinning wildly. Over Vanessa’s good-natured groan, he said, “The final boss battle between me and Vanessa and Will! I had a crowbar!” He mimed swinging it like a baseball bat.
Vanessa leaned forward. “He still has the crowbar,” she said in a faux whisper. “I don’t think anyone from the prop department is brave enough to try and take it back.”
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Looks like Cassie’s dad went somewhere, and left a note:
There is not a single character in fnaf who can catch a break.
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Okay, here’s a prompt I’m a bit surprised I haven’t seen yet. Only three words, but with near infinite potential.
Gregory. April Fools.
Have fun.
I’m picturing the kids as being thirteen or fourteen in this one.
Expectations (And the Breaking of Them)
Cassie couldn’t help but snicker to herself at how tense her classmates and teacher were that morning. Some kept eyeing the doorway, perhaps praying that Gregory wouldn’t walk through it on today of all days.
April Fools Day.
Gregory’s pranks the previous year were a thing of legend, and she truly regretted having been out that week with the flu. Rumor had it that multiple teachers had been clamoring to give him detention (or even have him suspended) for some of his stunts, but the true brilliance of his school-wide torment wasn’t how elaborate or funny or distracting the pranks were. It was that there was no proof that Gregory was the culprit.
Oh, everyone knew, of course. But they had no way to truly pin any of it on him, and it was even less of a secret that his moms would gladly rip into the administration if their son was punished for something without proof of guilt.
The only thing the teachers had on him was being one of the five instigators of a massive food fight during lunch.
Needless to say, Gregory had a lot to live up to this year, and all his potential victims were already flinching.
At last, Gregory sauntered into the classroom with a satisfied grin. Over a dozen pairs of wary eyes zeroed in on him.
“Hey, Cassie,” he greeted her as slid into her desk behind her.
“Good morning,” she replied dryly.
He chuckled. “It certainly is.”
Attendance was taken soon after, and hour by hour, the day passed by agonizingly slowly. Every time Gregory made a sound or shifted in his seat or raised his hand, someone would flinch or duck or give him a suspicious look. Their teacher looked like she dearly wanted to refuse when Gregory asked to go to the bathroom, and she watched the clock like a hawk until he came back an ordinary amount of time later.
But nothing happened.
Lunch arrived, and many students cautiously checked their lunches for tampering. Even those who’d bought their lunch were hesitant to eat. Cassie sat beside him as usual, and they chatted about their after school plans while everyone else watched Gregory over their shoulders for any signs of mischief.
But nothing happened.
Gregory was a model student for the remainder of the day as well, even as the spark in his eyes never dimmed. The silence during their final free period was thick; the unlucky few to be seated in Gregory’s immediate vicinity unsubtly scooted their desks away until only Cassie remained in a five foot radius around him.
But the final bell rang, signaling the end of the school day, and nothing happened.
• • •
Once they were safely far away from any potential eavesdroppers, Cassie finally let out all the laughter she’d been swallowing back. Gregory joined in, snickering gleefully as they walked down the sidewalk to Cassie’s house.
“They were all so afraid!” she giggled. “Everyone was acting like you were about to explode or something!”
“I could practically taste their fear,” Gregory said proudly.
“Best April Fools ever.”
“Not yet, it’s not.” Gregory pulled out a phone that wasn’t his and tapped around for a minute before holding the screen out to her. “Care to do the honors, my dear partner in crime?”
“Gladly.” And Cassie tapped a single button, launching the prank to end all pranks that she had spent most of the day setting up. Because while everyone else had been so focused on Gregory, no one had paid any attention to her—not as she’d fiddled on that very phone, not as she took an extra long bathroom trip, and not even as she slipped into the main office under the guise of making copies for her teacher.
It’d been Gregory’s idea, just as much as it’d been his idea that he would effortlessly keep the spotlight on himself while she put everything into place.
A moment later, their phones received an official email from the official administration email address sent to all students and parents announcing there would be no school the next day on account of “a prank that has caused some property damage.” No doubt, everyone would assume it was the prank they’d all been expecting from Gregory.
The teachers, though, would be getting no such email. In the morning, they would be faced quite bewilderingly with a completely and utterly empty school.
The phone, borrowed from the pizzaplex’s lost and found, would be returned to the box of junk that evening, wiped clean of any incriminating evidence. No one would ever know how, or even truly who, had pulled off a prank that got everyone a free day—
—but it was generally accepted to be the best prank ever committed at their school, and Gregory was the favorite suspect. Naturally. And while no one would ever seriously suspect kind, quiet Cassie as an accomplice, there were some who noticed that that April Fools Day, her eyes had been just as bright with mischief as her best friend’s.
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Here’s a SB prompt for ya!
Gregory realistically couldn’t have lasted the entire game without getting hurt. He got bruises from being slammed into things, his limbs aches for days cause he pushed himself too hard, and you can’t tell me any scrapes from Monty or Roxy didn’t scar.
Gregory would 100% use jokes and quips to deal with all the memories from that night whenever it gets brought up. Freddy who’s programming is insistent on lightening the mood and is joke based hates when he does it with a burning passion.
I’m still not done with the mini ficlets, lol. I went with immediate aftermath instead of further down the line.
Just a Scratch
The shift from night mode to day mode as, somewhere, a clock finally struck six was the best thing Gregory had seen all night. Lights began to turn on, STAFF bots disappeared by the dozen, and the stupid music cut out, leaving a ringing silence in its wake.
Just visible from his hiding place, he watched Chica twitch a bit, then zombie walk away toward her room down the long hall of Rockstar Row. Mere minutes later, Monty and Roxy followed, none seemingly aware of their surroundings. They all vanished into their rooms without a peep.
Still tense and on guard, Gregory unfolded himself from the tight corner behind the trash can he’d been tucked behind. There was no movement from the green rooms; from where he was crouched, he could see that Roxy’s was empty. Recharging in their back hallways, maybe?
Guests would start arriving in a few hours, after all, and the show must go on.
Limping down the hall, he raised his watch and pressed the button to talk. “Freddy? You still with me?”
“I am still here, superstar,” Freddy said, and he sounded so relieved. “I believe it is over. The barricade over the doors has risen. You are safe now.”
Safe. It’d only been one night, but it felt like such a foreign concept. How could the pizzaplex ever feel safe again, no matter what time of day it was?
Six hours. Not even counting that first hour before the barricade went down. Longest six hours of his life.
He was starting to feel a little woozy and unsteady on his feet by the time he and Freddy found each other. Freddy gasped at the sight of him, and the sound reflexively made him look around wildly, expecting an attack. But the quiet halls were empty but for the two of them.
“Gregory,” Freddy said urgently. “You are far more injured than I thought! We must get you medical care immediately.”
Gregory blinked uncomprehendingly for a moment before looking down at himself and taking stock of his body for the first time in hours. He’d kinda had other, more important things on his mind, y’know?
The first thing he noticed were the bruises. He’d hit the deck more than once, either on purpose or from tripping, and his knees reflected that. They were dark and discolored. Lower, on his left leg, a trio of long gashes slashed diagonally down the front and curved around the back. They started to sting fiercely now that he’d noticed them. Monty had grabbed him there once, he remembered faintly.
It was all a bit of a blur, to be honest.
The sides of his upper arms and shoulders ached too, and he thought of how many times he’d taken a corner too fast, one animatronic or another hot on his tail, and the way he’d slammed into the walls before continuing on. On his back, the burn of another couple of cuts flared up; Chica had taken him by surprise at least twice.
Shallow puncture wounds lined the top of his lower left arm from when he’d blocked Roxy’s teeth somewhere around 2 a.m. And both his right wrist and ankle throbbed with the pain of a sprain, probably from the one time the security guard had managed to grab him and yank him around and a fumbled jump down some stairs respectively.
A full body ache buzzed through him, too—the result of running and lifting and pulling and pushing far too much, far beyond what his ten-year-old body was used to.
And his vision was admittedly a little blurry. A headache had started after the third time he’d had his head smacked into the floor by a pouncing Moon, so maybe he had a concussion on top of all the rest.
The room was starting to spin, and Freddy was looking mightily concerned, which wasn’t an expression Gregory would have thought a robot capable of. Thoughts all tangled up around each other, he was suddenly desperate to reassure his protector that he was okay, honest, and they would look back on this night someday and laugh.
He giggled now, tipped alarmingly to the side, and in a concussed attempt to alleviate Freddy’s worry and lighten the mood, Gregory enthusiastically declared, “Tis but a scratch!”
Freddy made a noise of appalled disbelief, but if he said anything in response, Gregory didn’t hear it. He was too busy collapsing on the spot, thoroughly unconscious.
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Not sure if you’re still accepting prompts but here’s a super cute one for you if you are.
Gregory gets his ears pierced and he gets a replica of Freddy’s earring to surprise his animatronic father figure. Freddy would become a puddle of goo with how much sap he’d feel over his kid matching with him.
We’re still going with the mini ficlets! I’m picturing Gregory at sixteen-ish here. Freddy’s had a long time to get used to his gremlin’s shenanigans, but he’s still a frequent victim, lol.
Targeted Attack
“I’m finally able to change my earring, y’know,” Gregory said in that familiar casual way he had before wreaking havoc.
Freddy braced himself. “It has healed well?” he asked, mind racing to try and figure out the trap before it could be sprung.
Alas, he always seemed to be one step behind his superstar.
“Yep.” And with a sharp grin, Gregory turned so Freddy could see, having kept his left side out of sight since he arrived in what Freddy now knew to be preparation for this attack.
A simple red hoop hung from Gregory’s left earlobe. Suddenly acutely aware of the larger but otherwise identical earring hanging from his own left ear, Freddy attempted to speak only for a fizzy squawk to burst from his voice box. His systems were already overheating.
“We match,” Gregory added, a second hit to Freddy’s impossibly soft heart. His genuine delighted pleasure was at odds with his wickedly glinting eyes.
“We do,” Freddy echoed, and he could not even be proud of his coherence because there was a terrible glitch in his voice that made the second word come out much higher pitched than the first.
“Do you like it?” Gregory asked. He was grinning too widely to come across as innocent.
“You know I do,” Freddy replied. Someone unfamiliar with him and Gregory might have said he sounded miserable. “I only wish you would not—”
To his credit, Freddy had held out longer (by far) than when Gregory dyed part of his bangs blue to match Freddy’s lightning bolt. In fact, he may not have experienced a soft reset at all if Gregory had not ducked close to hug him, saying as he did, “Thanks, Dad.”
“Gregory,” Freddy complained, his HUD immediately throwing up half a dozen warnings about electrical surges, overheating, and a simultaneous, involuntary locking of all his joints. He was forced into rebooting.
But not even a full-system crash kept him from hearing Gregory’s victorious laughter (always a welcome sound, even when it was at Freddy’s expense) and feel that his terrible brat of a child stayed tucked against his chest until Freddy woke up to properly return his hug.
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SBI idea: Feral Freddy who’s completely losing it over his son boy and all the confused animatronics watch as he goes on a war path <33
I just want more feral Freddy going bonkers over Gregory getting hurt :)
As you can see, I decided to throw a handful of prompts together for this ficlet. I haven’t put much thought into this AU other than to say, for the sake of having the satisfaction of letting Freddy go feral on him, Afton has not been springlocked. So, if that’s not telling enough, then I’m sure the title is, lol. Warning for blood and a bit of gore!
The Bite
The knife sank in to its hilt, and there it stayed as Gregory fell to the floor with a suddenness like his knees had been kicked out from under him. A soft noise of confused pain left him, and already, a glassiness had come over his eyes.
Afton laughed.
Perhaps he wouldn’t have done so—and perhaps he would have been more careful to stab his young victim in a more secluded location—if he’d known about Freddy.
With the echo of Gregory’s summons in his head—the button had been spammed, either in impatience or panic, and Freddy always assumed the latter for caution’s sake (and had been wrong only once)—Freddy turned the corner into the atrium in time to watch Gregory finish falling onto his back, where he blinked sluggishly up at the ceiling.
Freddy saw this, and the knife, and the growing stain of blood on Gregory’s shirt, and the man standing over him, laughing laughing laughing away. And then Freddy saw red.
Afton didn’t have longer than a second or two to register the loud, crashing footsteps heading his way before he was tackled to the floor by a three hundred and fifty pound robot. This, as one might imagine, wasn’t very good for his health.
Most of Afton’s ribs snapped on impact, and his skull bounced against the tiles with a resounding crack. Just as quickly as he was thrown to the floor, he was reeled upward, Freddy crouching over him and clutching handfuls of Afton’s shirt. His claws pierced the fabric and sliced through his chest.
Blank black eyes with mere pinpricks of white pupils glared down at Afton. Freddy roared in the man’s face, his jaw hinging open wide. And then he pulled the dazed man forward, leaned down himself, and engulfed Afton’s entire head all the way to his chin in his maw before biting down with the force of a hydraulic press.
The prior history of animatronic bites, while gruesome, nonetheless looked like mere nibbles in comparison to this bite. For the fact remained that Freddy did not have a particularly cavernous mouth.
Afton’s head more or less exploded. Blood and mush burst out through the narrow gaps between Freddy’s teeth, and absolute gore plopped wetly to the floor.
Freddy opened his mouth. His razor-sharp teeth had nearly decapitated Afton, and it was only by a few fleshy threads and a determined spinal column that the ruin of his head—the parts that weren’t liquified, that was—didn’t splatter at Freddy’s knees. The mess hung around the stump of the man’s neck like a deflated jellyfish.
Freddy turned his head slowly, mechanically. For a bot that had otherwise seemed so alive before, it was chilling to see.
A short distance away, Vanny eeped in fear when his dark gaze landed on her. She raised her hands in the universal sign of surrender.
“You will call for an ambulance,” Freddy told her lowly, “and you will unlock the pizzaplex, and you will not attempt to escape.” He stood up to his full height, and only then dropped the limp body. The remains of Afton squished to the floor.
Hands shaking, Vanny nodded rapidly. She couldn’t quite look away from her boss’s splattered gray matter.
Ignoring her, and with the threat dealt with, Freddy turned his attention to Gregory. Feeling quite distant from himself, he knelt beside the boy, who was trembling faintly and thoroughly in shock, and examined him. The knife, he knew, could not be removed.
With bloodstained, gentle hands, Freddy lifted Gregory into his arms. Gregory seemed only barely aware of him; one of his hands fumbled against Freddy’s chest, leaving a small, smeared, bloody handprint over the lightning bolt.
Freddy’s warning systems blared in fearful rage. He strode from the room as evenly as he could, trying to keep from jostling Gregory.
• • •
An hour later found Freddy in Parts and Service, making use of the animatronic-sized showers and rough cleaning brushes. Though more than one human’s blood stained his hands and chest, he focused only on Gregory’s, fiercely, angrily, harshly. He scrubbed with enough force to scratch his paint, and he scrubbed where the handprint had been long after it had been washed down the drain.
Chica joined him at some point, his awareness of his surroundings dulled, and she carefully cleaned away the blood on his teeth and jaw and all the other places Gregory’s was not.
She did not comment on the spot of exposed silver on his chest, where the orange and blue had been completely scoured off.
• • •
It was a month before Gregory was well enough to return to the pizzaplex. After hours, naturally. He ducked through the halls, skillfully evading the STAFF bots, and he couldn’t contain his grin when he knocked on the door to Freddy’s green room.
Freddy was plainly confused when he opened the door, and it took a second for him to look down. Gregory’s smile widened.
With an inarticulate noise of profound shock and relief, Freddy swooped down to scoop Gregory up, inhumanly fast. He laughed as he settled against Freddy’s chest, and the tight wrap of metal arms around his body didn’t scare him. He knew exactly how dangerous Freddy could be; his memory of That Night, after being stabbed, wasn’t the clearest, but he remembered enough.
“You are here,” Freddy whispered, voice verging on glitchy. He hugged Gregory impossibly tighter, yet never too tight. “You are alive.”
“Thanks to you,” Gregory said. “You really saved me, y’know.”
“I thought I would lose you, superstar. I thought—”
“You didn’t. And you’re not gonna. I mean, you definitely made sure that psycho could never hurt me again.”
Freddy growled. “He deserved nothing less.” He let Gregory sit up—encouraged it, even—and Gregory kindly didn’t tease him when Freddy’s eyes flickered the way they did when he was scanning someone.
Perched mostly on only one of Freddy’s arms, Gregory allowed his protector to examine him, even going so far as to pat him down as thought looking for hidden injuries. And when Freddy was satisfied with the rest of his inspection, his eyes zeroed in on the exact spot the knife had been.
Gregory lifted the hem of his shirt and felt Freddy spasm. The scar wasn’t that bad, all things considered. As it was, the actual knife wound was fairly neat, just a line of slightly raised red scar tissue. The scars from the resulting surgery and stitches just made it look worse. More… extensive.
Freddy’s thumb brushed lightly against the skin near the injury, but not surprising at all, he didn’t actually touch it.
“See?” Gregory said, letting him look for a minute before dropping his shirt back down. “They patched me up, and now I’m just fine. Doesn’t even hurt unless I try twisting around.”
Freddy nodded slowly, not so much unbelieving as he was gradually coming to accept that as true. “I am… relieved. To hear that.”
Relieved felt like way too small of a word for the desperate light in Freddy’s eyes and the way he carefully guided Gregory closer again with a hand on his back. Gregory went easily, happy to tuck his face against Freddy’s jaw.
He knew he was safe there.
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Picrew tag game! - Create yourself now vs how you looked when you were a kid
Thank you @riderkaitlyn5 for the tag! Here's the picrew!
not too different, lol
tagging: @inkabelledesigns, @wandererintheocean, @liliflower137, @glorious-pxrpose, @rosebloodcat
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People have powers connected to their natural talents. Gregory is a natural born hacker; his power allows him to physically enter any kind of machine, no matter how simple or complicated and control them however he wishes. He can even change the programming/coding however he wants. He’s taken odd jobs to clean viruses from computers and fix faulty programming in faulty machines. The night he gets stuck in the Mega Pizzaplex, he knows exactly what to do.
This is the final tumblr generated prompt from the last round, number 66, and the prompt is from Hydrangea_Cherry9 on ao3! So, admittedly, this is probably the most I’ve diverged from a prompt so far because the tech stuff feels like it would fit better with Cassie, and I kinda had a different idea for Gregory. So basically, AU where everyone has one specific magic-esque power that they get as kids. I also took a bit of inspiration from that one post about little everyday magics.
Child of Chaos
To the bewilderment of his parents, Gregory didn’t seem to have a magic ability. They usually started coming in when a child was five years old, so when he went unchanged, his parents assumed he’d be a late bloomer. By the time he was eight, and far past “late,” they assumed he had a weak or subtle power. Because surely it was impossible for someone to just not have one.
Gregory himself never seemed upset with his abject normality. Not when his dad used his ability—his cooking was always perfect—or his mom used hers—she could predict the weather down to the minute and degree—or his classmates all started showing theirs off in school.
Like his best friend Cassie, who could slip her mind into whatever electronic device she was touching. Or Hunter, who had an internal clock and timer and stopwatch and alarm. And Lucy knew someone’s mood just from looking them in the eyes, and nothing Barry dropped, no matter how delicate, ever broke.
Gregory never complained or made faces or got frustrated with his friends. He shrugged when people asked about his magic, or lack thereof. He claimed to be totally unbothered by whatever obscure power he had that he’d yet to discover.
What no one noticed was the glint in his eyes, the twitch of his secret smile. They didn’t recognize his apparent indifference as a mask or his non-answers as lies. He never teased or hinted at the truth, never countered the mocking remarks, never sought to prove them wrong. Because that would give it away.
It would have made sense, had anyone figured it out, that he held his silence so strictly. That he kept his chaos a secret.
When things went wrong, or even just not as expected—that was Gregory’s doing. His little bit of magic. It could be big or small; he was equally capable of making the entire school lose electricity as he was at making any small object go missing at an inconvenient time.
It was a remarkable power to have in a day and age where most people’s magic affected only themselves or a very small area around them. But Gregory, at eight, decided he’d wanted a snow day instead of a test on Friday, and the skies had dumped four and a half feet of snow in a twenty mile radius around his house overnight.
So of course his magic was his best kept secret. It wouldn’t do for people to be suspicious of him for every little thing that happened. He’d lose all his fun if adults knew the sort of chaos he caused that couldn’t be traced back to him, so long as his magic was unknown.
And so it was that, standing in the pizzaplex, knowing there were animatronics hunting him down and a crazy killer out for his blood, Gregory grinned. His philosophy was that if anyone tried to ruin his day, he’d make theirs so much worse.
Roxy couldn’t stop tripping over her own feet; Monty kept leaping headfirst into arcade machines and photo booths and walls; doors closed in Chica’s face without fail. The STAFF bots bumped into each other, potted plants, and during one memorable moment, caused a massive pileup in the theater hallways that entirely blocked the killer bunny lady from reaching him.
Gregory had never had so many opportunities to cause chaos, and he was living for it.
Moon got tangled in his wires, the elevators stopped working for anyone but Gregory, and Sun found himself locked in a closet. The DJ got stuck trying to climb out of his massive passageways, and he was left to watch Gregory cheerfully saunter from the arcade’s back room.
But nothing was funnier than what his chaos did to his wannabe murderer. Chica ran into the bunny lady and sent them both tumbling down the long staircase in the lobby. Roxy accidentally bit her arm. Monty’s sharp nails snagged in her suit and shredded the front of it. The suit head got twisted and stuck, effectively blinding her. Moon mistook her for Gregory and tackled her. The blade of her knife fell off the handle. The lost and found door got jammed, locking her out as Gregory leisurely escaped via vent.
Cackling after the latest mishap—she face-planted after a hapless wet floor sign bot trundled into her path—Gregory gleefully returned to Freddy. Even his kindly protector was chuckling. The killer lady, who had to have been pretty fed up with her rotten luck tonight, had yet to get up off the ground and now had a circle of concerned wet floor sign bots gathered around her.
“It seems everyone is suffering from bad luck tonight,” Freddy commented as they left the atrium. “I have never seen my friends be so clumsy.”
Gregory snickered, relaxed as ever in Freddy’s chest cavity. “Yeah, it’s like they’ve been cursed.”
Freddy chuckled. “And thank goodness we have been spared,” he said, in a knowing sort of way.
Gregory sat up a bit and blinked in surprise—no one had ever figured him out before, but then again, he’d never dealt out chaos quite like this before either. “I—”
“Your secret is safe with me, superstar,” Freddy gently interrupted him.
After a moment of thought, Gregory slumped again with a rueful smile. He supposed he’d known he wouldn’t be able to hide his magic forever, and he couldn’t think of a better person to be the first to know. Cassie would probably be the second, honestly.
“You’re not freaked out?” he asked. It wasn’t something he liked to admit to himself, that he was a little bit scared of potential reactions. He didn’t want to be blamed for every little thing, even inconveniences that he genuinely hadn’t caused, or for people to walk on eggshells around him, fearful of retribution.
“Not at all.” The hatch opened, and Gregory didn’t resist when Freddy gently pulled him out and into his arms. “I do not believe you are the type of person to use such an ability to intentionally cause harm. And if I am being honest…”
He paused as Roxy burst out of a door up ahead, only for her eyes to go dark with sudden blindness. She stumbled around, waving her arms in front of her.
“They do deserve to be ‘cursed’ in this case,” Freddy finished, not without humor.
Gregory laughed, and on cue, as Roxy whirled to face them, her legs locked up and she toppled over with a screech.
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I firmly believe that if Vanessa had been a teenager at the time of Gregory being in the Plex, Rocy would have been the one to adopt her just like Freddy adopts Gregory. Except Ness would have been a bit bigger and more able to throw heavy things and it would have then turned into a trial by fire to see if Roxy would have been able to catch the feral teenager while Freddy and Gregory bonded over things.
To be more hilarious, it took Freddy a couple seconds to get Gregory to imprint on him like a duckling and it took Roxy about 3 hours, Monty and Chica's help, plus a bit of getting Gregory to act as bait just to get Teenage Ness out of the vents and rafters.
All of this to say that I think Ness was a menace when she wanted to be during her childhood.
this is the image you've put in my head:
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Idea!! Evan and Gregory could swap places for funsies? They’d dress the same and pull a Fred and George Weasley. Like “I’m Gregory- no I’m Gregory!”
This is very much inspired by The Parent Trap, lol.
Who’s Who
Steven slipped through the crowd of children with the ease of someone who’d been doing it for years. The munchkins barely noticed him, too high on the first-night thrill of being away from their parents for the next six weeks.
He was doing a mental check of the brats (affectionate) assigned to his cabin because the sooner he got good at remembering everyone’s name and face, the better. Introducing himself to those he passed by, he counted off one, two, three, four—
It was when he got to his seventh camper that he started to have trouble. Recognizing the stripped shirt from earlier—he’d helped Gregory check in—he called out, “Gregory?” as he approached the boy from behind.
But both the boy he’d been aiming for and the boy beside him—also wearing a stripped shirt, and now Steven couldn’t remember if Gregory’s had been blue or black—turned around and said, “Yeah?”
Steven ground to a halt, staring between the two. They had nearly identical messy brown hair, a light smattering of freckles across their cheeks, and were both blinking up at him with wide, innocent brown eyes.
“I’m looking for Gregory?” Steven said slowly. He wasn’t proud of how uncertain he sounded.
“That’s him,” both boys said in sync, pointing at the other. “I’m Evan.”
“…Evan,” Steven repeated.
They nodded. He was no closer to determining which child was Gregory.
Narrowing his eyes, Steven leaned down and carefully watched their expressions. He’d been doing this camp counselor gig for a while, and he wasn’t about to be bested by a pair of miscreants (still affectionate).
The boy with the black stripped shirt smirked at him. The one in the blue stripped shirt raised his eyebrows. The former had a faint scar on his right cheek. The latter had a slightly gnarlier one mostly hidden beneath his bangs. He made a mental note about them; they’d be a good indicator for who was who in the future.
“You’re Gregory,” he decided, pointing at the blue-shirted, forehead scar kid. “And you’re Evan.” He nodded at the black-shirted, cheek scar kid.
The boys exchanged identical looks of amusement. “Sure,” Cheek Scar said. “We can go with that.”
“If it helps,” Forehead Scar added, “we’re both in your cabin.”
“Lucky me,” Steven said drily.
Forehead Scar, who may or may not have actually been Gregory, rolled his eyes. “I just mean you can cross us both off your list even if you’re not really sure who’s who.”
“I’ll figure it out.”
In perfect harmony, both boys said, “No, you won’t.” And they even grinned identically too.
“Use your powers for evil only with other counselors, and I won’t go looking at camper registration pics to solve the mystery,” Steven bargained.
The kids exchanged a glance laden with silent communication and then gave him synchronized nods.
“You’ve got yourself a deal,” Forehead Scar said.
“We’ll try not to give you too much trouble,” Cheek Scar promised, all mischief. He’d be the greater troublemaker, or maybe instigator, of the two of them, Steven was suddenly sure. But which boy that made him, he still had no idea.
Accepting the compromise—you had to know when to push and when to just let kids do their thing, being a camp counselor—Steven stood up straight again. “Atta boys. If you cover those scars, you could probably pull of some real good alibis. But you didn’t hear it from me.”
Beaming widely, one brat snapped off a sassy salute and the other zipped his lips shut in promise, and yeah, Steven was never going to figure out who was who.
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Gregory would 100% do a dramatic retelling of the events of security breach to Evan campfire style with a flashlight in the dead of night while the other boy is staring at him shook to the core.
Don’t think too much about context or timelines or anything. Just know that the boys are buds and Gregory really went through the (somewhat canon) events of SB.
Lived to Tell the Tale
“—and then I heard these big thumps, like footsteps, getting louder and closer,” Gregory said, waving his flashlight around. “I looked way up to a giant hole in the wall. And do you know what I saw, crawling out of the darkness?”
Evan, chin pressed into the head of his Fredbear plushie, shook his head, enraptured.
Gregory leaned closer, and the flickering light from the campfire between them cast dancing shadows over his face. “It was the DJ. He’d woken up while I was playing the games in the back room, and there he was, looming over me from his tunnel, big as a bus.”
“What’d he do?” Evan whispered.
“He came after me,” Gregory told him. “Climbed right out of the hole and chased me down that long hall. He was so heavy that arcade cabinets were falling over, some almost right on top of me. I ran for my life and just barely made it out before he could squish me like I was the bug.”
“Wow,” Evan breathed.
“And it was like since I’d won our little chase, he’d decided to leave me alone. He went back to his turntables and didn’t bother me again for the rest of the night, not even when I was right in front of him.”
“You went back?”
Gregory tipped back onto his log, laughing. “Of course! I even explored some of those tunnels of his—that arcade didn’t have many other good hiding places.”
“You’re way braver than me.” Evan shook his head, squeezing his plushie tightly. “I never coulda done any of that.”
“I hope you don’t ever have to.” Gregory shivered and absently flicked his light around the nearby trees. A practiced motion, as if he was looking for something in the shadows. “A lot of it was really scary. All the animatronics were so much bigger and stronger than me. Being small and fast were the only advantages I had.” He smiled slyly. “Well, almost. Sometimes I was smarter, too. Have I told you how I defeated Chica?”
Evan shook his head.
“What you’ve gotta understand about her is that she’ll eat anything, but she apparently has a favorite ice cream. I found it thanks to memos left behind by some of the employees. And I used it to set a trap!” He held his flashlight beneath his chin, grinning evilly. “I lured her into the trash compactor!”
“No! Really?”
“Uh huh! But you’ll never guess what happened next!”
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Prompt:
After Freddy and Gregory leave in the loading dock ending, they stop for the night while still in the van. Sometime during the night, a robber, thinking the van is abandoned, tries to rob it. And... well, do not mess with a papa bear.
I love a good excuse to write Outsider POV! Also, I have never tried to break into a car, so that’s your warning if our van thief is doing something wrong, lol.
Beware of “Dog”
The sun hadn’t even risen yet, and Cole was currently trying to break into a van.
Look. In his defense, it had to be abandoned. Why else would a van be haphazardly parked on the gravel shoulder of the road? And so far from anything resembling a town or city, too. So yeah, finders keepers and all that.��
Whether or not someone intended to come back for it wasn’t his problem.
Frustrated, Cole growled around the flashlight in his mouth as he pulled his tools back again. If he couldn’t get the door unlocked on this next try, he’d resort to plan B, as in, Break The Window. He’d still get a pretty penny for the van, but it’d go for more if it was fully intact.
He shook his hands loose, flexing his stiff fingers. Before he could start again, he heard a quiet tink, the sound of something gently hitting glass.
Cole looked up from his hunch over the door handle.
With the flashlight’s beam reflecting off the window, it took him a moment to see past the glass. But when he did, he dropped his tools and stepped back, suddenly shaking. The flashlight slipped free from his slack jaw and flickered off when it hit the gravely ground.
Two pinpricks of bright white light stared out at him from inside the van. They bobbed and followed him, watching. The faintest impression of a large, inhuman silhouette was just barely visible in the dark.
A deep growl cut through Cole’s startled panic. And then, if that wasn’t bad enough, it changed into a low, rumbling chuckle. The hair on the back of Cole’s neck rose.
Abandoning his tools, Cole scrambled away from the van with a squeal that he wasn’t proud of. He practically knocked his dirt bike over in his haste to start it, and just as the engine spluttered to life, he heard the clunk of the door opening behind him.
He didn’t stay to find out what sort of monster had made the van its home. He punched it, front tire briefly leaving the ground as he lurched forward, and a scream stayed caught in his throat for the first mile or two before he finally dared to look back to make sure he wasn’t being chased down.
The road was empty behind him.
When he fearfully returned the next afternoon with his friends, the van was gone.
#i answered a thing#yellowskarmory#fnaf security breach#fnaf fic#star's stories#life and times of star
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Idea: Vanessa and Gregory find Cassie as she makes it out of the pizzaplex, barely able to walk due to exhaustion.
Tumblr generated prompt number 25! We’re down to the last few now! So for this one, the elevator didn’t fall, because if it did, I think exhaustion would’ve been the least of Cassie’s problems, lol. Anyway. Best friends, best friends, best friends!!!
Atlas
Gregory tore into the pizzaplex, ignoring Vanessa’s calls for him to wait. He’d made this place bow to his whims once, he could do it again, and all he cared about was his friend, lost somewhere in the darkness. Nothing would stand in his way.
The last thing Cassie had been able to say before her walkie-talkie fizzled out, batteries dead, was that the elevator had taken her to a hallway she didn’t recognize. So she at least wasn’t in the bowels of the building, where evil things lingered even after being laid to rest.
With only a flashlight and his memory to guide him, Gregory scrambled over debris and through wreckage, focused only on making his way closer to Cassie.
Guilt ate at him. Sure, it hadn’t actually been him luring Cassie to her near-doom, but it had been his voice and their friendship that led her there. And he hadn’t been fast enough to stop her, hadn’t been able to steal back the connection to her walkie-talkie until it was very nearly too late. He dashed away his angry tears with a fist and forged onwards.
The pizzaplex was creepily silent but for some dripping and creaking. His time lost in its walls had been full of music and Freddy’s voice and the animatronics’ annoying chatter.
He almost dared any of the bots to try and stop him. If they thought he was ruthless before…
As he broke through a locked door near the raceway, he started to call out Cassie’s name every minute or two, hoping he was close. He didn’t know exactly where the elevator was, but based on Cassie’s description, he stuck to the employee hallways.
Coming to a stairwell in his frantic search, he shoved through the door, leaned over the railing and hollered, “Cassie!” at the top of his lungs. It echoed eerily.
He held his breath, straining to listen. Please, he thought, please, please, be here, be close.
After an agonizingly long moment of silence, there came a faint clack clack clack from below.
Gregory all but hurled himself down the stairs. He didn’t even pause to worry that it wasn’t Cassie, that it was a trick from some bot or another. If it was, they’d regret it.
“Cassie!” he shouted, pausing between floors a few flights down. “Where are you?”
The clacking was louder this time, close, and sounded like plastic on concrete. Following it to the next lowest door, which he nearly yanked off its hinges.
He cast his flashlight beam down the pitch-black corridor, and there, curled against the wall, was Cassie. Her face was shiny with tears and smeared with dirt; the rest of her was coated in dust and grime. Her sweater was ripped in places and dotted with blood here and there. She was missing a shoe.
“Gregory,” she croaked, her voice hoarse and cracking. Her breathing was labored, and fear speared through him. She hadn’t mentioned being that badly hurt.
He let out a pained noise and shot to her side without any conscious thought. In one hand, she gripped her flashlight with white knuckles.
“It died,” she whispered, seeing him glance at it. “And it was so dark, I… I couldn’t…” Her shoulders shook.
After setting his own on the floor so it shone upward, illuminating the ceiling to best spread the light, Gregory scooted closer and pulled her into a hug. She dropped her flashlight and wrapped her arms over his shoulders, tucking her face against his neck. He squeezed as tight as he dared, and it was an awful thought, but he hoped her her heavy breaths came from panic instead of injury. At the very least, she didn’t wince when he tugged her closer like he wanted them to sink into each other so thoroughly that no one would be able to tell them apart.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered into her messy hair. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”
Cassie shook her head. “It wasn’t your fault.”
Gregory whined. But wasn’t it?
“And—you’re here. You came,” she said, relieved and awed all at once. Not surprised, though, thank goodness—that probably would’ve carved Gregory’s heart out of his chest, if she’d been surprised that he wouldn’t just leave her there in the dark ruins of the pizzaplex.
“Duh,” he mumbled.
She giggled tiredly. “I want to leave,” she said. But she didn’t let go, so neither did Gregory.
Gregory’s watch crackled after a long few minutes of their quiet breathing. “Gregory?” Freddy asked, the connection staticky. They’d left him in the car. “Vanessa texted me. She said you ran off, and now she cannot find you.”
“I’m fine,” he said. “I found Cassie. I, uh, don’t really know where we are other than near the raceway. We’ll head back for the lobby, okay?”
Freddy sighed, fondly exasperated. “I will let her know.” The call silenced with a click.
“I don’t think I can walk,” Cassie admitted. “Not, not because I’m hurt. I just.” She sighed, sagging more heavily against him. “I’m so tired.”
“I’ll carry you,” Gregory said, suddenly beyond desperate to get Cassie out of the building by whatever means necessary.
Dubiously, she protested, “It’s a long way—”
“I’ll carry you,” he repeated. “Piggyback.”
After a pause, Cassie nodded. They let go of each other with extreme reluctance, and Gregory turned around and settled into a crouch. It seemed to take all of Cassie’s remaining strength to stand and climb on his back. He passed her the flashlight.
They were really close in size—Gregory barely had an inch on Cassie—but as he carefully stood and secured his hold under her knees, he knew he’d carry her as far and as long as she needed him to, no matter how tired he got.
“I’ve got you, Cassie,” he said, heading back to the stairwell. She leaned her head against his, exhausted. “You’re safe now.”
She hummed. “Duh,” she whispered.
He snickered, and she did too, and they went into the ruins together.
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I’m not really sure how to word this? Here’s a prompt for you I guess? Gregory would 100% take a photo in front of his missing poster smiling with a peace sign. Also I think he’s just the type of gremlin to take one of them for himself much to everyone’s exasperation.
Tumblr generated prompt number 4, here we go! Gregory and Cassie are both in their late teens here, in their first year of college. This is pretty slice-of-life-y with no clear connection to any AU other than a generally happy one.
title is a play on the saying “not all who wander are lost”
Not All Who Have Missing Posters are Lost
Gregory pulled out his phone and opened the camera app. Leaning against the telephone pole, he threw up a peace sign and grinned. Satisfied with the picture, he sent it to the group chat.
Gregory
image_attachment.87265032
lol
good times :)
He stowed his phone in his pocket, mentally counting down until it started blowing up with messages. Then he carefully tore the missing poster bearing his face—albeit his much younger face—off the pole and tucked it into his laptop bag.
He walked the rest of the way to the bus stop, letting his phone vibrate every few seconds, and only once he’d sat down did he pull it back out, snickering as he read through the small backlog.
Cassie
XD you’re still finding those??
Vanessa
oh my gosh pull it down pull it down
we do NOT need a repeat of two years ago
Roxy
who was even looking for you, lol
Freddy
Roxy! Do not be rude!
Cassie
you look so young. so innocent.
Roxy
yeah but we know better
ah dang it, i can feel fazbear’s disapproval from across the plex
Bonnie
You were such a cute kid! Look at those cheeks!
Vanessa
seriously, though, what part of town is that? if there’s one, there might be more
Chica
Oooh! Congrats on adding another to your collection :)
Monty
lol nice
Freddy
Are you on your way home, superstar?
Roxy
wee woo, dad alert! you know the rules, no sappiness in the group chat, fazbear
Freddy
What was sappy about that?
Cassie
if nicknames count, Roxy, you’ll have to start calling me by my name now
Roxy
…
fiiiine, i take it back
Gregory
XD
yes, Ness, I tore it down, and it was on Reed St, but it looked like some other posters had been taken off recently, exposing this one, so i don’t think it’s a widespread issue
yes, Dad, I’m on my way back. just got on the bus, should be there in 10 mins
He stayed on his phone for the rest of the ride, confirming their plans for dinner later. Cassie had finished her final exams the day before, so she’d already been by the pizzaplex to say hi to everyone.
The bus dropped him off just down the street from the pizzaplex, and though early December was chilly, he enjoyed the bite in the air. There’d be snow soon, he was sure, and he was looking forward to some lazy days with a mug of hot chocolate and a warm blanket.
Gregory’s first semester of college had been awesome, but he was happy to be home, and even happier to find Freddy waiting inside the side entrance that Gregory favored. He stepped forward into his adoptive dad’s arms, marveling yet again that he was taller than Freddy’s shoulders these days.
“Welcome home, Gregory,” Freddy said softly.
“I missed you,” Gregory told him, holding on tight. He sighed contentedly, the remaining stress from exams draining away.
“Your winter break lasts a month and a half, correct?”
“Mhm. And I plan on staying here for all of it.”
“Good. The others have been looking forward to your return.”
Gregory pulled back and unzipped his coat. “Just the others?” he teased.
Freddy cleared his throat, which was as good a sign as any of his sheepishness (he’d probably been beside himself with excitement), and followed after Gregory as they descended into the basement, where Gregory had commandeered several rooms for his own use years ago. Vanessa had offered him a room in her house, but he’d politely declined, though he’d slept over there many times over the years. He was just too attached to the pizzaplex and its inhabitants, and also his independence.
After popping into his bedroom to drop off his bags and coat, he quickly went into his workroom. It held his desk and bookshelves and the different personal projects he’d tinkered with over the years, and it also held his wall of missing posters.
Freddy chuckled from the doorway as Gregory used sticky-tack to affix it into an empty space. It was almost like wallpaper, over two dozen posters with slight variations plastered edge to edge. Some were black and white, some were in color, and there was a variety of childhood pictures used among them. His favorite was one that misspelled his name as Gegory. That one was carefully framed. His second favorite, also framed, was a homemade wanted poster that Cassie given him for his fourteenth birthday.
Gregory stepped back and surveyed his wall with his hands on his hips. “Perfect,” he said, pleased.
“If you are satisfied,” Freddy said, “then we should go meet the others. Bonnie and Chica are relentlessly spamming me with frowny faces because I am ‘hogging you.’”
“Tell them it’s your dad rights,” Gregory said, even as he bounded from the room, eager to reunite with the rest of his family. “Is Vanessa around? Is she still the junior location manager, or did they promote her again?”
“She has been fending off a promotion for two weeks now. They reached a stalemate yesterday when she threatened to quit.”
“They always fall for that,” Gregory snickered. “As if this is the time she’s gonna pack her bags, psh.”
“They have been getting faster about calling her bluff,” Freddy mused wryly.
They got in an elevator, and as they went up, they listened to the awful elevator music that hadn’t changed since Gregory was ten years old and running around the pizzaplex for the first time.
“I am glad you are back,” Freddy said after a few moments. “I know you need to go and experience the world, and I would never want to hold you back from that. But I hope you know you will always have a home here, with us.”
Gregory shuffled sideways to be tucked into Freddy’s side. “Aw, Dad. No matter how far I go or how long I’m gone, I promise—I’ll always come back. No one’s gonna need missing posters for me again.”
#i answered a thing#anonymous#fnaf fic#fnaf security breach#fnaf ruin#star's stories#life and times of star
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has this been done yet
#just star being star#if you end up in my activity feed and are boop-able then expect boop#life and times of star
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Here's a prompt: the mimic in the basement TRULY THINKS that it's Gregory, and when Cassie declares that it isn't, it starts to have an existential crisis/panic attack about its identity and what it is.
Here we go with tumblr generated prompt number 14! For the sake of this AU, Gregory was completely uninvolved in the Mimic’s imprisonment and doesn’t even know it’s down there. I took this in a softer, more hopeful direction.
Identity Issues
Cassie climbed through the hole the forklift had made, looking around the dark room. “Gregory?” she called.
“Cassie!” he said, off to her left, only… his voice… “I’m so glad to see you!”
She hesitated. His voice sounded… off. Glitchy, almost.
“I’ve been stuck down here for so long,” he complained, that odd fizzy crackle not going away. “I can’t tell you how bored I’ve been.”
Peering into the darkness, Cassie found a pair of glowing red eyes staring back at her. She sucked in a startled breath and stumbled back, nearly tripping over the rubble she’d caused.
“Cassie?” the thing that wasn’t Gregory said. “Are you okay?”
The eyes suddenly rose in the air, and Cassie became very aware that the robot was much taller than her. It came closer, creaking slightly but not heavy-footed the way the animatronics were.
It emerged into the meager light spilling out of the hole in the wall. Cassie tensed, preparing to run. It had a similar build to the endoskeletons she’d encountered, just bare, plain metal forming the most basic human shape. It’s head and face were more humanized than the endos, and it—maybe it was an odd thing to take notice of, but—it wasn’t symmetrical. Its feet didn’t match, or its legs or hands.
It looked… homemade.
Her friend’s voice, with only that little digital tinge to show that it wasn’t the real deal, came out of it. “Something on my face?” it asked, amused. “I bet I look like I’ve been rolling around in the dirt, huh?”
It even sounded like something Gregory would say; it knew his personality, had been near-perfectly mimicking him all night. The only out-of-character moments had been things she’d attributed to the stress of the situation.
“Yeah,” she said slowly. Should she point out that it wasn’t Gregory? Did it think she was fooled? Would it attack her if it thought the game was up? Cassie clutched her flashlight tightly and shuffled her feet, uncertainty make her heart pound.
In the end, it wasn’t her choice to make.
Her walkie-talkie clicked. “Cassie? Cassie, are you there? Can you hear me?”
The robot sort of flinched backward, and even though it had no facial expressions, she thought it seemed shocked.
Raising the walkie-talkie, Cassie said, “Yeah, yeah, I hear you.”
A rush of breath left Gregory. “Holy hell, Cassie, just give me a heart attack next time! I’ve been trying to get a hold of you all night! What are you doing in the pizzaplex? It’s not safe there anymore, believe me.”
She wanted to ask if he was the real Gregory. But apparently there was no way to trust a voice without seeing the body it came from.
She didn’t get the chance to answer because the robot asked, “Why does that sound like me? Who is that?”
It occurred to Cassie that maybe, possibly, crazily, the robot wasn’t trying to fool her. That, as unlikely as it sounded, it actually thought it was Gregory.
“It’s my friend,” she said gently. “My friend Gregory.”
“But—I’m Gregory.”
Gregory interrupted, “Not loving the radio silence here, Cassie. Where are you? I’m following your path of destruction—I’m so proud, by the way, baby’s first destruction of property—but like, you’re way farther in than I expected. And I could skip this walk down memory lane if you’d just tell me where you are.”
“I’m Gregory,” the robot whispered, hunching in on itself. It shuffled its feet, uncertain, and fiddled with its hands. They were shockingly human habits, though she’d never seen Gregory look so fragile and confused.
“I’m—I’m sorry,” she said quietly. “But you aren’t.” Its red eyes flickered and dulled, and it lowered its head. Into her walkie-talkie, she said, “I’m in these weird tunnels beneath the raceway.”
There was a fumbling noise, and then Gregory burst out, “In the buried pizzeria?! Get out of there, Cassie, geez! There’s a freaky wire-y blob monster down there that will try to eat you if you disturb it!”
Cassie critically examined the pitiful robot in front of her. It didn’t read as a blob monster, whatever that meant. And it didn’t seem inclined to eat her. It was just watching her, somehow radiating sadness.
“Unrelated, but that night you spent here, did you manage to accidentally convince a robot it was you?” she asked, ignoring his panic. Giving a robot identity issues of that caliber seemed like the sort of thing Gregory was capable of.
“Uh—no? Why?”
Lowering her walkie-talkie for the moment, Cassie inched closer to the robot, tensing despite its lack of anger or aggression. “Hey,” she said, and it looked up at her with dim golden eyes that almost looked clouded over. They were much softer than the red, and even kinda pretty in their own way. “You might not be Gregory, but that’s not a bad thing. I mean, I wouldn’t want to be Gregory.”
It wrapped its arms around its torso—which was really just a thick metal bar and a pair of hydraulic cylinders—in a hug for itself. “But I don’t know how to be anyone else. I only remember being Gregory.”
Cassie realized too late that she’d squeezed her walkie-talkie, turning on the microphone. And she realized it because Gregory said, “Wait, was that—was that my voice? Did—did you find a robotic clone of me?”
She shouldn’t have been surprised that he sounded excited about that.
But thank goodness he was as weird as he was, because rather than get upset or freaked out, Gregory cackled and cried, “I want to meet him!”
Cassie peeked up at the robot, curious about how it would respond. And enough of Gregory’s… everything must have carried over, however that had happened, because it correctly read the silent question in her eyes.
“I’d… like to meet him,” it said haltingly. “I—I can feel it now. It’s like… a mask. And now I know where the edges are, but there’s nothing underneath. I am no one.”
“Well, then maybe Gregory and I could help you decide who you are underneath, without any mask at all. And in the meantime,” she sighed internally, “I bet Gregory would be thrilled to have someone just like him who’s willing to help him prank people.”
Its eyes brightened, and yeah, it was unfortunately a lot like Gregory.
“We’ll meet you in the raceway,” Cassie said into her walkie-talkie. And then she bravely held her hand out to the robot. “C’mon, let’s get out of here. It’s gross down here, and you really do look like you’ve been rolling around in the dirt.”
The robot laughed with Gregory’s voice, and it was remarkably gentle when it took her hand.
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