Every Moment Spent Within The Walls Of The Pizzeria Feels Like A Carefully Composed Act. A Precarious

★ — Every moment spent within the walls of the pizzeria feels like a carefully composed act. A precarious tightrope that he must walk perfectly. Gregory is to play the part of the wide - eyed and innocent new child, enthralled by the whimsy of the animatronics and oblivious to the dark cloud that overhangs Fazbear as a whole.

But he mustn't be too innocent, fall into the trap of this masquerade he's performing. Cannot afford to let his guard down for even a moment. Lest he fall victim to the very thing he's trying to discover the roots of.

A careful balance. Too suspicious, too unfocused, both run the same risk. And he's already failed at not bringing attention to himself.

That much is obvious as one of the owners comes striding towards him — a man he's ( unfortunately ) found himself already acquainted with. Gregory doesn't trust William Afton, though he can't say he trusts anyone within the establishment at the moment.

( except michael. michael is the only one whose innocence he is assured of ).

Gregory subconsciously shrinks as the man leans over him, letting the wrench slip from his hands with little resistance. The truth is, he had been snooping around the off limits areas ( as he was apt to do ). The tool had been sitting out. Not out of place, per say, but not entirely where it should be either. Gregory hadn't thought before taking it, wandering back out to the main area before he could be caught sneaking about.

"I'm ten, not a baby. I know how to use a wrench."

Muttered response, attempting to duck away from the hand that musses up his hair and swatting vaguely at it. He's too wary to allow such casual contact without a fuss ; though the mention of Michael does cause him to perk up somewhat, a slight hope. Regardless of their slightly antagonistic relationship, Gregory can't help but feel safer around the teen.

"Michael's gonna be there?"

𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚠𝚊𝚢 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚋𝚘𝚢'𝚜 𝚖𝚞𝚜𝚌𝚕𝚎𝚜 𝚕𝚘𝚌𝚔 𝚞𝚙 𝚒𝚗 𝚏𝚎𝚊𝚛 - it's like william can feel that same ice like liquid nitrogen. [...] crawling through his veins, only to heat up into something he can only revel in.

a child's fear is something he often holds in his hands as of late - can manipulate it like it's made of matter. felt in the tingling of his fingertips even now. [...]

his brows are narrowed, while the side of his cheek pulses on either side. resulting from a steady grinding of teeth, that the man was unaware that he had been engaged in. [...] stopped a bit awkwardly, as he looks over the child. holding the wrench turned weapon, that he'd lashed out with more-recently in anger.

𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚖𝚎𝚖𝚘𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚜 𝚝𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝𝚎𝚗 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚐𝚞𝚝 -- 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚒𝚗 𝚛𝚎𝚖𝚘𝚛𝚜𝚎. compulsions resulting in a need to take out his anger on the one thing he had used to adore in the most wholesome of ways. now turned to bitter hatred. killing his former self, killing michael, killing the children who still got to breathe. all while his own son lies in the solemn grave he drunkenly visits each night on the way home from the bar.

his hair still about his cheeks, hand comes up to push through the strands. as if that re-started time, for the both of them. tilting his head minutely in the meantime.

he starts forward with long strides. loafers rolling heel to toe with each step, laxly and fluidly -- natural.

𝚑𝚎 𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠𝚜 𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚗 𝚊 𝚌𝚑𝚒𝚕𝚍 𝚒𝚜 𝚕𝚢𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚘 𝚑𝚒𝚖, 𝚋𝚢 𝚗𝚘𝚠.

"no, not at all. [...] i simply wonder where you might have gotten that from." he half mumbles, bending at the waist to take the instrument from the boy's hand. giving him an off-putting smirk while he gives his hair a ruffle.

"you could have gotten yourself hurt, running around with that."

he stands, tossing the heavy wrench in the air before catching it. still wearing his smug, quirked little grin. a shadow of one, though present nonetheless.

"are you ready to go back, with us? michael should be home from school, if we're lucky enough to be graced with his presence this evening."

The food is burning.

“ POST - IT NOTE ”

send “ POST - IT NOTE ” for what my muse would leave yours in a post - it note message !

foxy!

I wanna ask you about some stuff, but you were busy with some kids when I came by earlier. I'll come back by right after closing, okay?

— gregory

POST - IT NOTE ( for vanessa, any verse you fancy! )

send “ POST - IT NOTE ” for what my muse would leave yours in a post - it note message !

vanessa!

I took freddy outside with me so don't freak out too much! I've got his head in my backpack so people won't notice! I'll bring him back later promise!!!!

— gregory :)

POST - IT NOTE !

send “ POST - IT NOTE ” for what my muse would leave yours in a post - it note message !

bonnie!

first of all, don't tell freddy I wrote this. second of all, if freddy asks, I'm in the arcade playing games. third, can you please please pleaaaseee keep him distracted for a little bit so he doesn't panic and try to find me? thanks!

— gregory ( there's a little bunny scribbled next to his name! )

inbox call !! you know the drill — like this and I'll go through your meme tag and toss gregory in your inbox!