( Mentioned. At This Point The Guy IS Just Body Horror ) - Tumblr Posts
HIS FATHER’S WORK OOZES FROM VANESSA LIKE OLD CIGAR SMOKE, AND MIKE ISN’T YET SURE HE CAN HELP. Isn’t sure there is anything to be done: the woman in front of him is clearly exhausted, and he doesn’t think he’d be wrong in saying she’s feeling the heat. Mike’s own eyes stay firmly fixed on his cig, cap pulled low over a mess of fake curls and purpling skin ( though make - up is a godsend for making that slightly less conspicuous, thank God for the twenty - first century ); doesn’t pay her focus at all, like a hunter trying not to startle a cornered rabbit, more than mildly concerned about spooking her away. HERE’S HIS GENIUS PLAN: move slow, start a friendship with her. Or an acquaintance with her, whatever works. Figure out what he can about how to tear his father down one last time and help an innocent person escape his grip. And if Vanessa can be freed, be there if she needs him. It’s far from a solid plan, he’ll admit, but at the moment, one week into work, it’s impossible to have anything else.
Lighter clicks, cig inhaled. The rush of nicotine does little to warm him from the cold that seems to perpetually follow him now, but hey, it’s a small comfort at least. He’ll take what he can get.
ONLY THEN DOES HE TURN TO HER. Keeps his expression casual, oblivious. He’s treading slow here: has to see the extent of the glitch virus on her before he does anything to act. The last thing he wants is for her to alert his father that someone is onto them. “ I’m Mike, ” he tells her, and belatedly realizes his hands are full, “ I’m the — hang on — ”
Shoves his lighter back into his pocket, offers an awkward gloved hand to her in greeting. “ I just started working here last week, ” he says, and that’s not a lie: as soon as he’d heard the name Fazbear he’d immediately suspected some fucked - up shit to be taking place ( though this is a little worse than he expected ). “ I’m the, uhm, the new technician. Mike Fritz. You’re Vanessa, right ? ” No point acting overly familiar. If he comes off weird now, he might just blow everything.
“Mind if I smoke?” — @bitterborne !!
&. 𝐚𝐧 𝐚𝐬𝐬𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐝𝐢𝐚𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐮𝐞 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐭𝐬.
✧ . * ｡ ⋆ — Vanessa is exhausted.
That much is clear to see ; her demeanor is reminiscent of a fawn, helpless in the unfamiliar surroundings of her new world, wide - eyed, jumping at the slightest of noises, and looking as if a strong wind might be enough to blow her over. Weak. ( in need of saving protection ). There's bags under her eyes.
Moments of solace are hard to come by, between the chaos of the pizzaplex and the static of her own mind. She's tucked herself behind the building, citing a need for a break — management certainly won't be happy, but Vanessa couldn't give less of a fuck. Arms wrapped around her torso, as if trying to shield herself from the elements ; but there is no comfort to be found in such a gesture. ( how can she possibly comfort herself, knowing what she's done? ).
The sudden voice makes her jump. ( everything seems to make her jump ). Lets wide - eyes flicker to the newcomer, before shrugging half - heartedly.
"Sure — go ahead."