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dayfalwastaken · 7 months

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FNAF Movie one-shot prequel set a few years before the events of the film.

After a particularly unsuccessful night of guard-hunting, the Yellow Rabbit shows up to brighten Gabriel’s day. Or so the boy thinks.

...

Excerpt:

He was supposed to look out for them. To be better than this. And look at him.

All these years and he hadn’t learned a thing.

Well, you couldn’t teach an old dog new tricks, but one would think he of all people would know that the anger was useless more often than not. A calculating mind was better than self-sabotage painted as an excuse for lashing out, but… Curse it, his patience was oh so thin! If their killer wasn’t choking on his own blood come night 3, all planning would go out the window and the Bear would step out of his den.

Still, what did it hurt him to cut Jeremy and Susie some slack? Nothing really, Gabe was just too stuck up to turn a blind eye. Not like his efforts were that much more effective…

He bowed his head ever so slightly, leaning forward in what was supposed to be an apology. He wouldn’t blame his friends if they were angry with him.

Those two were too good for him anyway.

Whatever rebukes they had would be more justifiable than his could ever dream to be, and Gabe wouldn’t deny them of that small mercy. Because why should his word matter over theirs when he wasn’t up to the task, despite being so hard on them half the time?

…

But whatever reaction he expected to get never came.

Jeremy, with lowered ears and missing the quiet rage he’d typically wear on his face, bumped him in the shoulder before losing to the servos and reverting to his stationary position. Gratefully, Gabe closed his mouth and nodded, straightening his posture.

Refusing to let him beat himself up either, Susie followed their bandmate’s lead. Sparks erupted from her arm as she fought the Daytime Cycle for control, and even when her torso jerked in protest she still kept a hand on his back, patting him. The pain must’ve been too much however because she quickly snapped back in place, dropping Mr. Cupcake in the process.

Gabe flinched internally when he saw how her optics darted to the floor.

This wouldn’t do. Sporting his best approximation of a grin, Gabe knelt down and picked up the hand puppet, placing it neatly into her waiting arms. The grinding ache in his joints didn’t matter if he could put his sister in everything but blood at ease for just a second.

Immediately after though, Fritz peeked his head out of his cove and met his gaze, pointing a hook at him.

“It isn't a good look fer us t' 'ave our Cap'n lackin' courage, lad, I tell ye.” The patchless optic narrowed. “We be needin' a real man t' 'elp us cross these darn waters.” He said in that chastising tone of his, line repeated hundreds of times.

In spite of himself, Gabriel chuckled, his laugh echoing throughout the whole pizzeria.

“W-Whatever- ever you sa- say, Foxy...” To his dismay, his voice box glitched before he could get the remainder of the sentence out.

Ouch.

Grumbling mock curses and other obscenities, the pirate went back inside, drawing the curtains behind him.

Gabe would never admit it to the others, but he envied Fritz. He would trade suits with him in a heartbeat. The redhead was a free spirit in every sense of the word. Uncaring for his crumbling body, and no matter how much it hurt him, he ran. Finding joy in things like the sound of his own voice, he laughed. Away from prying eyes, unlike them, he lived. Every waking moment, Fritz embraced his unlife. With all of its faults, he took it and made it his own.

And although he wasn’t exempt from bouts of rage, as none of them were, he used it to his advantage better than the rest of them.

How different would things have gone had Fritz been in Gabe’s place? Had the Pirate Fox taken Fazbear’s spot from under him?

That was a nice what if to mull over. It almost made Gabriel smile.

Excerpt End.

Want to read more? You can check out the rest of the story here:

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whumpster-fire · 4 years

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Whumptober Day 12: Broken Down

Here, have some Five Nights at Freddy’s whump, because I’ve wanted to write some about Mangle for years!

Content Warnings: Dehumanization of sentient robot whumpee. Does NOT contain child abduction or murder except as a brief reference despite what fandom it is, but does contain a child nearly being badly hurt or killed by accident due to negligent adults.

Kid’s Cove was in a state of chaos. It always was while the restaurant was open. This was the room where the children too young to sit still and watch the main show went. Today was busy, with around a dozen hyperactive toddlers and kindergarteners running around, shrieking, and hitting each other and Foxy with foam cutlasses.

A screech of electric guitar feedback ripped through the pizzeria, briefly drowning out even the screaming kids and browning out Foxy’s microphones. She glanced through the window at the show stage and glared at the blue rabbit animatronic on the left. Chica had her hands over her ears, and Freddy was shaking his head sadly. Foxy wasn’t angry at Bonnie – the feedback was part of the pre-scripted show, a little skit before the songs started. But somebody had obviously turned the speakers up way too high. One of the kids in her area was crying. Well, one in addition to the two that were crying already.

Foxy silently rolled her eyes and continued with her own performance, trying to ignore the gnawing pain in her left shin. The suit piece had a loose sensor cable that had been bothering her all week, and this morning it had finally come disconnected. She couldn’t feel it, but because tactile sensitivity was important to make sure the animatronics didn’t accidentally hurt a guest, her system registered the dead sensor wires as pain. But the maintenance techs had told her to ignore it when she said it was broken. It wasn’t critical, not worth shutting down the show for, not worth taking their time away from a faulty arcade cabinet. Her software didn’t let her disable the warnings entirely though, not during operating hours, so she had to keep overriding it.

This was supposed to be the audience participation part of the show, but the kids weren’t paying attention. Foxy looked pleadingly at the pimple-faced teenager currently sitting in the corner reading a magazine. He was supposed to be the backup plan. Fine. She’d just have to talk to herself then. Her hand puppet, “Perry the Parrot” volunteered, and she randomly selected a joke from her repertoire.

“Knock knock!”

“Who’s there?” she replied through the puppet’s voice box. Its jaw didn’t close. Foxy jiggled her arm up and down, making the secondary endo head’s eyes wobble.

“The cap’n!”

“The cap’n who?”

“Cap’n Hook? Why, he’s been promoted to Admiral!” Foxy laughed. Zero reaction. Fine.

She stepped down off the stage. Foxy came down and walked around more than the other three main animatronics. The two kids with the toy swords were getting more violent, and it seemed likely to become a fistfight soon. The hair pulling had already started. Their parents were nowhere in sight, and the teenager didn’t seem to have noticed.

“Hey! You two little buccaneers are gettin’ a little rough over there!” she called. “Be careful! You could put an eye out with those things, you know!”

“But Foxy! Isn’t that what they’re for?” said the hand puppet.

“Aye, but preferably somebody else’s.” The kids had now made peace with each other, but were ganging up on a little boy half their size. It had now officially gone too far. Foxy raised her voice and advanced on the children, feet clanking on the checkered tile. That finally got their attention. “Put those things away, young scallywags, or ye’ll be walkin’ the plank!”

One child dropped the sword. The other flung his at Foxy as hard as he could, and ran out of Kid’s Cove, screeching.

CHILD MISSING. CHILD MISSING. CHILD MISSING.

The parrot’s piercing shriek rang out across the restaurant. “MAN OVERBOARD! MAN OVERBOARD!” It was one of the code words to alert the human staff members to a situation the animatronic couldn’t handle. The teen looked up, bewildered. Foxy snatched the magazine out of his hand. “Bosun! There’s a crewmate missing! Search the place!”

That finally got the lazy swab moving. Foxy let the magazine fall. Now she was alone with nine unruly toddlers – no, ten, one behind her, climbing onto the stage. She made a halfhearted announcement of “more hands on deck in Kid’s Cove,” and tried to start calming them down.

Then, disaster struck. An adult finally showed up, an angry-looking man saying: “Hey! Darren, I’ve been calling – your brother’s going to open presents!”

He wasn’t in either of Foxy’s facial recognition databases. Not the one of dangerous adults, but not the one of faces she knew either.

“No! No! Donwanna! Daaaaaa-aaa-deeeeee stop!” A toddler wailed. The man was attempting to drag him, kicking and screaming, from the ball pit.

He wasn’t the adult who had dropped that child off in Kid’s Cove. An alarm went off in Foxy’s mind.

“Let go of the child now!” Foxy dropped the pirate voice and spun around, lunging to block the doorway and setting off the intercom alarm in the security office. She was programmed to alert security and the police. But after overhearing from one of the staff why the new animatronics were hooked up to a criminal database, Foxy had modified that programming. He wouldn’t be leaving the room with the child until either the boy’s parent or a staff member gave the all-clear.

But Foxy had forgotten the magazine. Her foot slid out from under her. Her balance algorithm reacted quickly, but it couldn’t compensate for basic physics. Fall unrecoverable. She twisted to avoid landing too close to a little girl, and put her arms out to try to absorb the impact, but the angle was wrong, and three hundred pounds of machinery slammed into the tile. Something popped in her right arm. Dozens of pain signals overloaded her processor.

Foxy tried to rise, but only managed to push herself a few inches off the floor before her limbs got too weak to hold up her weight. Something sprayed against the inside of her arm suit piece. Hydraulic pressure critical. The pump shut down, and she slumped to the floor in a growing puddle of shimmering oily fluid. On the stage, Freddy and Friends continued with their song like nothing happened. Foxy tried to reassure the stunned children that everything was okay, that Foxy had just had a little accident and would be ship-shape in no time, but all of them were crying, or screaming for their parents, or… two of them were laughing at her.

She lay there, helpless, as the security guard rushed into the room. The young man was missing his hat, and had obviously gotten there in a rush. But after exchanging a few words with the man with the screaming child, he let him go, apologizing profusely.

“It’s just a safety precaution, sir. We’re testing a new facial recognition system on the animatronics to ensure nobody unauthorized comes to pick up a child. We’re still working out the kinks so there’s a lot of false positives -” The guard said, giving Foxy a disdainful look. “But it’s company policy to send someone to investigate if an animatronic sends an alert, no matter what! The safety of your children is our highest priority here at Freddy Fazbear’s Pizza!”

“Oh yeah? Safety, huh?” The man, who seemed to be the child’s father, wasn’t impressed. “Is that why you left them alone with that deathtrap? When I came in here there wasn’t a single supervising adult, and your little technical glitch almost crushed that poor little girl!”

“I – I’m sorry to hear that sir!” The security guard gulped. “We’ll be looking into that –“

“Look into getting a manager in here! I want a refund!”

For a brief moment, Kid’s Cove was bustling with adult activity – the employee who’d run off to find the runaway kid, the manager, the assistant manager, and numerous parents. Foxy kept trying to explain what had happened, but nobody even seemed to hear her, and she could hear that her voicebox was working properly this time. Her hands and feet, and her tail and all the motors in her face still worked. She could see out of one eye, but the other only had a view of the inside of her own eyeball. The plastic cover had gotten knocked out of place and the pupil wasn’t aligned with the camera underneath anymore. Her radio still worked, too, and she could hear the staff’s walkie-talkie calls.

“Can we get maintenance to the show floor please, we’ve got an animatronic down.”

“Which one?”

“Take a wild guess.”

The maintenance techs were there quickly, nearly bumping into the kids as they were shooed out of Kid’s Cove, but they weren’t in an enthusiastic mood. And it got worse when one of them slid in the pool of hydraulic fluid and nearly joined Foxy in a broken heap on the floor.

“Jesus fu – oh my god I almost fucking ate it!”

“Whoa! Dude, you okay?”

“Watch your language please, this is a family establishment!” Foxy’s response was automatic. The technician almost jumped out of his shoes.

“Jesus, it’s still on?” He backed carefully away from the spill and shook his head derisively, picking up his walkie-talkie. “Whatever.” He keyed the mic. “Yo, Jeff, can we get a wet floor sign over in Kid’s Cove? I almost cracked my damn head open.”

“No kidding, I thought I was about to be calling an ambulance.” The other tech keyed his mic as well. “Mop and bucket too please.”

“I thought you were too. Man, I’d heard horror stories about working here but, like, isn’t it supposed to be the kids pissing on the floor?”

The other technician laughed. “You’d think. So what’s your bet, think the leak caused the fall or the fall caused the leak?”

“I dunno, dude.” The first tech scowled and kicked at Foxy. “Piece of fuckin’ junk.” He knelt down and examined her arm, allowing her to read his nametag. ‘Greg.’ Something had splashed her good eye, and her vision was too blurry to recognize his face.

“Watch your language please, this is a family -”

“Shut the fuck up!” Greg snapped. Foxy obeyed. She was a little scared of Greg. He was always rough and careless with the animatronics, and she wasn’t sure if he was joking the times he’d threatened to beat her with a wrench if anything else went wrong. “Dumbass robot.” He tugged on her arm. “Jesus, looks like whatever blew nearly tore the suit off.”

“Prob’ly a fitting.” Paul, the older technician, leaned against the wall. “Good thing the suit was there or there’d be somebody in the hospital. I saw a line blow on a backhoe once, poor bastard working on it didn’t even know he was hurt at first but he said they had to peel his whole arm like a banana and scrub the oil off his bones. When he rolled up his sleeve he looked like Frankenstein.”

“Yeesh...” Greg said with a grimace. “That’s a much bigger machine though, isn’t it?”

“Bigger yeah, but they don’t run as high a pressure. These things run around ten thousand – no, sorry, the old ones were ten thousand psi, I think the new ones took it down to six or seven thousand? But it’s still crazy, not even aircraft go that high, and I’m not sure they aren’t using five-k-rated hoses and fittings because the fuckin’ bean counters hear the parts are tested higher and don’t know what a factor of safety means.”

“Wouldn’t surprise me,” said Greg. “Oh, thank God, that stupid puppet got smashed. If I hear that damn thing’s squeaky voice one more time -”

Foxy wanted to cry. She wasn’t sure how she’d learned that feeling, it must have been from watching how the kids reacted when they fell and hurt themselves, or even from the songs Freddy and Bonnie and Chica sang to teach the kids about feelings. But the damaged sensors in the hand puppet and the unresponsive wrist hurt, and it hurt looking at its smashed-in shape and its lower jaw just hanging on by a wire like Old Chica’s and one of its eyes lying on the floor, and it hurt that they hated the puppet, and hated her, so much. It was her favorite of the interchangeable attachments that could go on her left arm – the puppet, a normal hand, or a hook – because it had real, working eyes that helped her see a wider view of her surroundings when navigating the restaurant floor. At least, it would if they bothered plugging them in when they attached it.

“Don’t hold your breath,” Paul complained. “I’m with ya, man… these redesigns are… they’re just total pieces of crap. The originals had their issues, but these guys are just falling apart. This is what happens when you cheap out, you end up paying double on spare parts and downtime because they always. Fuckin. Break.”

“Especially Foxy,” said Greg. “Seriously, there’s five damn animatronics here, but I swear ninety percent of the breakdowns are either Foxy or Balloon Bitch if you don’t count Daffy’s beak falling off!” The staff had nicknamed most of the animatronics. Freddy was ‘Fatbear’ after his portly figure compared to the original Freddy. Bonnie was ‘Queen,’ apparently after some other band with a lead singer named Freddy. Chica was ‘Daffy’ after a cartoon character whose beak also apparently kept coming off. Balloon Boy was ‘Balloon Bitch,’ which Foxy didn’t understand other than it tripping her profanity filters. The Prize Puppet didn’t have one yet, and neither did Foxy, but at this rate it would probably be ‘Piece of Junk.’

Paul chuckled. “They’re the ones that spend the most time offstage, but they’re all junk. Sheet metal, molded plastic for the suit structure instead of fiberglass, they put the suit shell on the outside so now it breaks way easier… they didn’t even wanna bother with cleaning the fake fur so now you’ve got this… ridiculous shiny plastic, like they’re overgrown action figures. Plus of course there’s the whole political correctness fiasco – apparently the higher ups said the main cast needed to have an even gender ratio, so they gave Foxy the ol’ snip-snip. And then just to make sure everyone could tell, they paint Foxy pink and put Chica in a bikini. Like that isn’t stereotypical at all, ya know?”

“I know, right? The new foxy design sucks, too. I couldn’t tell if it was supposed to be a pirate or a clown at first, it’s just… it looks so stupid!”

“Yeah… I can’t believe they got rid of the eyepatch. It was a pain in the ass since the linkages for that and the eyelid were so close together, but like, everything else on these damn things is a nightmare to maintain, so… ah, whatever. Doubt these’ll be around that long anyway. At this rate I’ll be you twenty bucks Foxy’ll be in the great dumpster in the sky by next year.”

Greg looked skeptical. “Nah… nah… they haven’t even bothered scrapping the old ones even though half the parts aren’t even compatible.”

“Fuck that, they didn’t even turn them off. You know they still wander around the place every night? Yeah… guess you’re right, they’ll probably just throw her in the parts room, just completely turn it into an obstacle course of broken down tripping hazards.”

Foxy shuddered in fear, imagining being left there, alone, all the time. Being left in that decrepit, broken state. The old animatronics were still there, and they were still functioning, but nobody bothered with fixing them. They had broken jaws, missing suit pieces, even limbs and faces torn off. They had to be in constant pain, but Foxy had never heard any of them speak. Maybe their voiceboxes were broken, and they couldn’t even tell anyone it hurt. Not that they’d ever listen.

Greg looked at his watch. “Speaking of broken down tripping hazards, where’s the janitor? I’m not moving this thing until the floor’s mopped, I don’t want a broken neck.”

“Hell if I know. Screw it, just drag it by the legs and be careful. I just wanna get it in the back and then I’m going for a smoke. This is gonna be a total pain in the neck to fix...”

Foxy closed her eyes and pretended to be ‘asleep’ as the humans dragged her out of Kid’s Cove and onto the dolly. The movement set off vibration alarms, more sharp, tingling pain. She wanted to tell them to be careful, but there was no point. They didn’t care. Not the same way people cared when other people, especially the children, were hurt. Foxy was almost jealous of it. No, she was jealous. No carting her into the backroom, swearing and complaining about how much time and money she wasted, no shutting her down and taking her apart and putting her back together sloppily, then ignoring her when she said it still hurt and getting angry at her when something broke again. No accidentally punching a hole in her suit when a drillbit slipped. She didn’t think a band-aid or a sticker would actually do anything to fix the hydraulic leak, but they sometimes put them on kids who weren’t actually bleeding, and it still seemed to make them feel better. And the way the adults talked to them, the way they were… worried about them, and cared that they were hurt because they were hurt… she just wished they would treat her like that. Just once.

#whumptober2020 #no.12 #broken down #Five Nights At Freddy's Fandom #fic #dehumanization tw #robot whump #whump #my writing #fnaf #mangle #OSHA Violations

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sister-location · 6 years

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hi! i know you probably have a lot of asks right now, but i wanted to get some clarification on something. what exactly do we know about remnant? do we know anything except that it's what the scuper was designed for?

Yes and No!

The secret ‘insanity’ ending is the only time we ever see Remnant being mentioned. But we need to keep in mind that like with everything else in FNAF, being directly told about something is just meant to be a hint to look for context clues!

Longer post under the cut because there’s a lot to be said here and it’s image heavy because I just woke up!

edit: I realized partway through this that gameverse Afton might be injecting himself with whats essentially robo-ghost blood and it’s really fucking funny to me, sorry for obviously laughing about this for the entire post.

First up we see the SCUPer, A B C and D functions, and the Afton Robotics, LLC trademark. Let’s go over them!

NAME: S.caleable C.reation of U.lterior P.resence

Ok so you can see that either Afton or Scott are really weird with names, because this.. is honestly weird word choices, but they sure made it fit the ice cream theme. Rammed it right in there. But let me work these words down;T.his M.achine M.akey G.hosties. Call it Thingmmagig.

Scalable Creation refers to being able to generate more [ghosts] and likely also be able to remove (or relocate..?) [ghosts]. Ulterior Presence is.. actually a little funny, because it means ‘Secret Secret Ghosts’ kind of. And honestly these ghosts aren’t really hidden, unless you count that no one was sure if the Funtime animatronics were haunted or not. Maybe in-universe, the fact these robots were haunted at all was a huge secret and only like, 4 people knew. Maybe to everyone else, blood and mucus coming out of robots is normal. Whatever.

BLUEPRINT PART A: EXCAVATING ARM

No bonus data given, this is just the weird… partial cylinder. I’m not sure why A wasn’t put on the actual folding arm structure. Maybe the A is on the end because that is the part that, well, scoops you. slurp

BLUEPRINT PART B: REMNANT INJECTOR

NOTES: Leaves trace line amount on interior. Over-usage /Over-exposure negates effect.

Honestly the fact that there’s an ‘injector’ here somewhere is weird because it seems Scott made this thing really lowpoly and didn’t add much if anything when he went ‘lets make this a blueprint!’ because there’s clearly no… tubes, or needles, or… hell maybe the whole things hollow and it just kinda opens a hatch and it gloops out. I can’t see scott

Anyway this part of the blueprint identifies that.. somehow, there is an injector!So not only does this blueprint have one, we also now know that, yeah, there is a reason to inject people with whatever ‘remnant’ is. People and/or machines. So it clearly has some sort of reaction when placed inside other substances, and… actually why isn’t the SCUPr itself haunted. Scott probably didn’t think of that…. Moving on.

BLUEPRINT PART C: ARM BASE AND BALANCE

It seems that both wheel-shapes are just balances, given how low the D is. Weird design but not an important part of the machine, aside from making it sturdier while it tears things open.

BLUEPRINT PART D: REMNANT RESERVOIR

NOTES: When heated, no observable motion. Keep in heated tank at sustained temperature. Substance should be malleable, but not more. There is a possibility that overheating might neutralize the effects permanently.

Here’s the juicy stuff. Remnant is something that moves, and when heated, it stops moving and softens up. If it gets too hot, it neutralizes ‘effects’. So now we know that whatever Remnant is, it’s heat sensitive and moves on it’s own, so it’s alive in some way. People who have looked at the game files might remember something like that…

Also a weird fact here is that heating may neutralize the effects, but isn’t clear on what effects, or if it means while they’re in the tank or not. This could either mean that the remnants will get heat-resistant in the tank, which us unlikely, or…

Whoever uses Remnants for the SCUPr’s intented purpose needs to be kept cool at all times, or the effect, which we assume to be immortality, will wear off. What’s a coolant that we have in all games, and are only able to disable in FNAF 6? The fucking fan. THE FAN KEEPS MICHAEL AFTON ALIVE, LITERALLY. In theory anyway thats just a theory … but god would it make some god damn sense.

—————————————————————————

FACIAL RECOGNITION FILE 0072

Remnant is also mentioned in this blueprint!

SECURITY TAGS ACTIVE:001 “Funtime Freddy”002 “Funtime Foxy”003 “Ballora”

It’s unclear here if the numbers are the security tags (which implies funtime freddy is the first animatronic on the tag system, ever?) or if Henry was just absolutely prepared to have to write blueprints on a 100-tag hell machine. It’s probably just aesthetics. Either way, as referenced in LEFTE’s blueprints, all of the animatronics have security tags, or bracelets, or security receivers.. actually it’s likely

Henry’s robots: Security Receivers are so animatronics, Toys especially, can connect to each other to keep out bad people and protect children.

Afton’s robots: Security tags, so he knows where the robots are at all times, and doesn’t let the robots escape.

FE/AR Staff: Security bracelets so the robots know the difference between staff and patrons, and theoretically know staff by name. You guys know the theory that Lefty is submitting Henry’s frequency to the Puppet / his daughter? Shit’s sad.

That aside, come to think of it, would William have sent Michael a bracelet with his number on it, just to make sure the robots think Michael ‘looks’ like him to the animatronics? Michael goes through a lot of name changes over the series, but it’s possible. Maybe?

Anyway the main point here is that Molten Freddy is Freddy, Foxy and Ballora (Chica? Suzie?). No Minireenas, no Bonnie hand puppet, no pre-Ennard, no Yenndo, and especially no Circus Baby.

Priority One

With the most amount of Remnant collectively in it’s structure, this amalgamation of Afton’s constructs is a necessary element of Paragraph 4.

Paragraph 4′s direct meaning still isn’t really clear aside from that it has to do with the end of the game where Henry sets fire to Molten Freddy, Circus Baby, Springtrap and Lefty/his daughter, setting them all free. Of course with Molten Freddy being multiple spirits together, he’s the top priority: Even if Henry can’t stop the Aftons or save his daughter, he needs to save the most kids he can.

That said, note the wording: The most amount of Remnant. Not ‘the most spirits’ or ‘Likely to have the most attachments’ or anything clearly stating dead kids: the most Remnant. So although Remnant was only stated in Afton’s SCUPer blueprints, Henry is not only aware of what Remnant is, he clearly knows how it works, and how to remove the haunting ‘effect’: Heat. Fire.

This implies that Henry may have still worked with Afton even while Afton was doing a side job with Afton Robotics, despite Henry saying he built at least some of the robots. It’s very unlikely Henry would build.. child-grabby machines, so we’re assuming here that they just.. both made robots. At the same time. Oh timelines…

—————————————————————————

SO WHAT IS REMNANT?

In short, Remnant is some sort of life essence that may or may not always mean ghosts. The way we see the SCUPer work, through Circus Baby’s lines and Ballora’s scene in the Springsuit game (which the springsuit was distracting you!), is that the Funtime Animatronics capture kids in some way, ‘malfunction’, are taken to the SCUPer, and have the remnants of the kid scooped out.

Why don’t we see some kid’s corpse get mangled up and slurped out when we see Ballora get scooped? Well, maybe she opened up just off screen, orr it’s that it’s a kid’s game. There’s probably a better reason here, I just am not sure what it is.

Here’s a brightened gif of her being Scooped, which I was too lazy to reupload.

The eye color might be from my de-blueing it, so I won’t bring that up.However, what we see in the scooping process is odd. It’s not really a scoop, she just looks like she got uppercut in the face, twice for some reason. And that whatever the scooper’s doing, it’s causing a flash of light each impact. Whatever it’s doing seems to take a lot of ‘energy’ from Ballora, since she slumps over after as if she’s tired, but is clearly still possessed… or at least has the energy to be creepy while the Real Ballora is now inside the Scooper’s Excavating Arm.

It’s important here however to remember Scott’s intended view of this sprite:

This. This is all you get. By the time the faceplates open up, Ballora’s already staring at you slumped over. However, something also hidden by the faceplates, that perhaps Baby was specifically hiding from you, is something that isn’t present on the sprite. Because when different objects animate on their own, Scott makes them their own little object and spritesheet in game.

Because anything moving down there, you wouldn’t see them. Something wiggling, moving, because the scooper is extracting them, and they’re just not warm yet. Something that, just like the Insanity ending, we’re not supposed to see.

#fnaf #fnaf theories #remnant #sister location #fnaf6 #fnaf 6 spoilers #fairygodrobot

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