INCORRECT QUOTES:
Gregory: “I always have a plan for staying on top of things for this month. Seize control of every opportunity, get my grind on and work my hardest and absolute smartest to be my best self. Drink lots of coffee, eat lots of pastries, pet lots of cats when I’m on the verge of a crisis, and pray to whatever god is up there that the power of love, hope and faith can get me through it all. Even if my enemies are the gods I end up praying to, I will never lose sight of my goal. I’ll simply just work harder.”
Glamrock Freddy: “... It’s past your bedtime. Please, I beg of you, rest.”
Gregory: “I was comatose for fifty-seven years straight, brother dear. I can endure this delightful misery for a while lo-” *instantly collapses*
Glamrock Freddy: “...I rest my case.”
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Elizabeth: “How do you think life would be if me and Michael weren’t your siblings?”
Evan: “For one thing, I would be sane.”
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Gregory: “Lizzy, I’m sorry. I’m not allowing you into the kitchen for reasons I can’t say.”
Vanessa: “...Me and Bubba left you alone with Chica for three fucking minutes, how did you already cause such a ruckus within the span of three minutes.”
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Gregory, opening a Fizzy Faz: “Oh, fine, then. I guess I’ll just drink my sorrows away.”
Sundrop, whose poor heart skipped a beat: “How does he know what that means!?”
Vanessa: *nervous whistling*
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Gregory: “You know what the old saying is; go big, or go home!”
Freddy and Vanessa: “Dear god, please, I BEG of you, please, for just ONCE in your life, please, go HOME, PLEASE.”
Gregory, whispering so quietly he’s practically mouthing the words at this point: “I’m going big.”
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Freddy: “You know, Liz, not every problem can be solved with a swiss army dagger.”
Vanessa: “I know. That’s why I carry two of them.”
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Gregory: “I’ve had a coffee and a single oreo within the past two hours. I’ve got a Fazerblaster, I’m four foot seven, and I’m always ready to fight God on sheer adrenaline and rage alone.”
Vanessa: “Someone fix my poor big brother.”
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Montgomery Gator: “Oi, little guy, ain’t it past yer’ bedtime?”
Gregory, filling out paperwork in scented glitter gel pen: “Isn’t it time you minded your own business?”
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Elijah (Bonnie Mask Bully): “Oi, loser, isn’t it past your bedtime?”
Evan, filling out paperwork with a crayola marker: “Isn’t it time you shut up? Permanently?”
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Michael, glaring incredulously at Evan: “You keep track of all the information you’ve ever learned and used in a bloody ledger?”
Evan, sipping his tea with extra milk and sugar nonchalantly: “Oh? And you don’t?”
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Katrina Emily (Mrs. Emily): “Hypothetically, would you slap your older brother for 50,000 dollars?”
Evan: “I’d shatter all the bones his leg for two slices of piping hot Fredbear’s Pizza and a refreshingly cold beverage.”
Michael:
Evan: “And then I would hug him and drown him in apologies for the next two hours, and also sign his cast.”
Michael: “Oh.”
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Evan (inspired by one Tumblr post): “The sexiest thing about me? Everything hurts my feelings.”
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Gregory (Reincarnated Vessel) and Charlotte Emily (CharlieBot): *points at family love* “This one sparks joy.”
Gregory and Charlie turning to romance and pointing at it: “This one does not spark joy.”
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Some random person: “Oh, but romance and love are what make us human!”
Gregory/Evan, Charlie, and Cassidy: *turn to each other* “It’s tough being a god, y’know?”
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Susie, hanging out around Gregory with the other MCI gang: “What’s your ideal date?”
Gregory: “MM/DD/YYYY. Other formats tend to be confusing, such as the ones used in passports for traveling to other countries.”
Cassidy: “As one who speaks from personal experience, I can confirm the validity of such wisdom.”
Charlie: “Agreed.”
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Gregory: “Do I feel romantic attraction or am I just lonely and depressed and love and touch-deprived?”
Freddy and Vanessa: “...Do you need a hug?”
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Gregory as Patient 46 is A Fun AU Idea IMO Part 1 :skull:
Log #1:
Therapist: “Good morning! Isn’t it a pretty day?”
Gregory: “Ngh…”
Therapist: “No? What’s the matter?”
Gregory: “Sun’s in my eyes.”
Therapist: “Oh, right, too bright. I’ll pull the shades.”
**the faint rustling sound of blinds being closed can be heard.**
Therapist: “Better? Despite your lack of medical records, you seem to have pupil-less eyes, much like the compound eyes of an insect or a butterfly. Did you know that? Pupils regulate light, so I’m assuming you must be sensitive to bright lights due to your lack of pupils.”
Gregory: “Better. And… yeah. I like the dark.”
Therapist: “When the shades are pulled, it feels like we’re in a cubby hole or cave, yeah?”
Gregory. “...”
Therapist: “Hmm… so you’re not talking to me again today. This isn’t all that productive, y’know? Don’t you think the sessions are more successful when you talk to me? You know, everyone associated with this company gets performance reviews, right?”
Gregory: *nonchalantly nods* “Mhm.”
Therapist: “When my sessions don’t get results, my reviews aren’t very good. If you don’t want to talk for your sake, how about for mine?”
Gregory: “Okay, ma’am.”
Therapist: “I get it, you don’t trust me. But you don’t want me to get in trouble, do you, now? I could be put in the corner for a timeout-!”
Gregory: “Pfft- hah!”
Therapist: “Yeah. You think that’s funny, huh?”
Gregory: “It’s hilarious- I’m sorry.”
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Log #2:
Therapist: “You’re not going to talk to me today? No? What’s the problem?”
Gregory: “What’s that smell?”
Therapist: “Oh, the flowers? These are particularly fragrant today, aren’t they? I’ll move them.”
**faint groaning of ceramic against wood can be heard**
Therapist: “Now, let’s see. What are you looking at?”
Gregory: “Your desk is pretty old… 1983, yeah?”
Therapist: “You’re amazingly alert, aren’t you?”
Gregory: “...People tell me I have an eye for detail.”
Therapist: “Alright. Well, I’d like to have you tell me about yourself… but I can see that you’re not going to do that, or are you?”
Gregory, flatly and in a tight tone of voice: “I’m not good with starting conversations… at least, I used to be. I don’t know what happened. Sorry.”
Therapist: “Alright then, it’s okay, dear. If you aren’t going to talk to me, I’ll just go by these notes. You just sit there and be comfy… or not. That chair… doesn’t really fit you, does it?”
Gregory: “No. It’s too big. But it’ll do.”
Therapist: “Okay…” **faint shuffling of papers** “Well… this won’t take long. Let’s see… your previous counselor’s no longer available. Does that bother you? No? You don’t look surprised to see me sitting here instead of your last therapist.”
Gregory: “Life gets busy sometimes for grownups.”
Therapist: “...Right. Well, then- let’s get to it. I’ll admit that some of what’s in your file is a little… surprising, to say the least. Overall, you don’t come across as a troublemaker… but, if you read between the lines it’s clear that you have a little bit of a rebellious side, right?”
Gregory: **nods in agreement** “Kids will be kids.”
Therapist: “And I’m surprised by your knowledge of computers. You’re something of a phenom- do you know what that word means?
Gregory: “...No, to be honest with you.”
Therapist: “It means you have unusual skill… like a hacker. I assume you know what a hacker is. Yes? Do you think of yourself as a hacker?”
Gregory: “... I’ll neither confirm nor deny such claims, Miss. I don’t trust you enough. But you’re right.”
Therapist: “...How about we come back to this another day?”
Gregory: “Sure. Tomorrow is another day.”
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Log #3:
Therapist: “Good morning, it’s good to meet you. I’ve read your files, so I’m up to speed on what you and your previous therapists have worked on.”
Gregory: “...Are those Ferrero Rocher chocolates? Can I, ah…?”
Therapist: “Oh, sure, you can have a candy! I’ll have one too. You look chill sitting there like that, not a care in the world, huh.”
Gregory, with his mouth full in a happier tone than usual: “Chocolate fixes everything.”
Therapist: “Interesting… I’ll be sure to note that down for future sessions between us. Alright, well, I’d like to start by talking about your parents.”
**Gregory’s lip thins, and his eyes darken. His fingers curl into his palms, forming loose fists.”
Therapist: “What happened to them… and you, was tragic, but when I looked through the notes, I didn’t get a sense that you’ve processed that emotionally.”
Gregory: “Oh? What do you mean?”
Therapist: “Well, honey, when I read your account of what happened it came across as, well… more of an objective rather than a subjective narrative. Oh, sorry, you don’t know what that means, do you?”
Gregory: “...No, I don’t. I’m sorry.”
Therapist: “O-oh, no need to feel excluded! Here, I-I’ll explain it to you- what I mean is that the way you told the story is more like you were reading something from a book than you were talking about your own past- you essentially novelized it. This makes me think that you’ve cut yourself off from it. Is that right?”
Gregory: “...I’m not sure.”
Therapist: “...Not sure?”
Gregory: “My siblings were affected the most. Perhaps I loved them wrong.”
Therapist: “Darling, you can’t love a person wrong! Such a thing is unheard of! You either love them or you don’t… and from what you’ve told your previous counselors, you seemed to be an empathetic, diligent and hardworking young boy- you’re smart beyond your years. You listened to others troubles and felt their emotions as though they were your own- you shared the burdens they carried. Trust me when I say that you were a good brother. You loved your parents, and your older brother and younger sister as they loved you.”
Gregory: “...Thank you. Your kindness means more to me than you know.”
Therapist: “You’re welcome, darling- just know that it’s not your fault. Alright, moving on, I can see that in your file, you spend a lot of time by yourself and are good at self-dialogue. Asking yourself questions and getting answers. So maybe you should ask yourself how you really feel about your past.”
Gregory: “The past shapes who I am… not all loose ends have been tied up, though. That does pain me a bit.”
Therapist: “Well, maybe it’s time to tie up those loose ends. Maybe you should give yourself a chance to really look at what happened and let yourself be upset about it, so you can let go.”
Gregory: “...I’ll try. It’s what they would’ve wanted for my sake… so I’ll try for theirs.”
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Log #4:
Therapist: “Have you thought more about what we’ve talked about?”
Gregory: “Yes, I have, ma’am.”
Therapist: “That’s good! In our last session, you told me you were sad and scared about what happened to you. I suggested you write down what exactly made you so sad and scared. Did you do that?”
Gregory: “Mhm. I put them down on sticky notes and left them around my room.”
Therapist: “Oh? I didn’t know you leaned in favor of quite… unconventional methods.”
Gregory: “Now that I think about it… a notebook would’ve been better, you’re right.”
Therapist: “Oh, no no no, it’s no problem at all! It’s quite alright! You know, I work with people of all ages, from little kids to the very elderly and everyone reacts to tragedy differently. Tragedy always leads to a feeling of loss- it’s a hole that feels funny, right?”
Gregory: “...It’s like a piece of your heart and mind have gone missing.”
Therapist: “Yeah, I agree. So, if you could process those feelings, how do you think it would affect your fantasies? Would you keep them in the way that they are?”
Gregory: “...I want a happy life. Happy and perfect aren’t the same. I just want to be together with my friends and family again.”
Therapist: “So you wish for change?”
Gregory: “I wish to reclaim what I’ve lost.”
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Log #5:
Therapist: “When I’m getting to know a new client, I like to start by finding out directly from them what they like to do. How do you spend all the time you have? Nothing?”
Gregory: “... It depends.”
Therapist: “Well, how do you feel about sports? Boys your age usually love sports. You like sports? Yeah? No? Oh, I get it. You like to watch them, but not play them. You like being inside, don’t you?”
Gregory: “I like the ocean, and the stars. Where I lived, it was uncomfortable and dry outside- too dry to play sports.”
Therapist: “I get that. Lots of weird stuff outdoors, isn’t there? Yeah, I understand.”
Gregory: “...”
Therapist: “Well, I hate to do this right off the bat, but I’ve been directed to ask you about this. Apparently, I’m the fourth therapist you’ve had, and apparently, all three of your former therapists have gone missing- or, two of them are missing. I don’t want to scare you, but I have to tell you that one of them was found dead.”
**Gregory lets out a heavy exhale through his nose.**
Gregory: “Oh… I’m sorry.”
Therapist: “That doesn’t seem to upset you. Well then, I guess I’ll go ahead and tell you that the woman’s body was pretty messed up. It looked like it was mangled by machinery.”
Gregory: “That’s unsettling…”
Therapist: “Yeah, isn’t it? But that doesn’t seem to bother you either. Hmm. It’s all pretty strange, I think. I’m not clear on the circumstances. Apparently, the police don’t have any evidence. How does all of this make you feel?”
Gregory: “You should be careful- you could be next.”
Therapist: “Mhm. Maybe I should be watching my back- yeah, that’s funny, isn’t it?...Okay. Shall we move on to something lighter?”
Gregory: “...I would appreciate that.”
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Log #6:
Therapist: “Do you know a place called Freddy Fazbear's Mega Pizzaplex?”
Gregory: “...”
Therapist: “I'll take your silence as a yes. And besides, I know you know it, because the technicians who work for Pizzaplex know you, or rather, I guess it would be better to say that they think they do.”
Gregory: “Oh? Do tell more.”
Therapist: They report that they've caught you on camera, or at least it appears to be you. Nothing to say about that?”
Gregory, faintly, to himself: “Perhaps I was a bit careless after all… oh well.”
Therapist: “Well, the techs are convinced that you've hacked into their system many times. Although, I'll admit I don't see any proof here. Seems like they have more of a gut feeling than fact.”
Gregory: “Isn’t that a bit of an extreme conclusion to jump to?”
Therapist: “I’m not sure. But apparently the hacks are causing all kinds of problems.”
Gregory: “...Pft-!”
Therapist: “Hmm. You get a kick out of that. The idea of techs running around like chickens with their heads cut off. Yeah. That's a funny image, isn't it?”
Gregory: “Yeah, it is funny. Sorry.”
Therapist: “Uh-huh, hilarious. But seriously, I have to say that I think it's weird that you'd spend so much time in such a busy, social place. You seem like more of a loner to me. Lots of time by yourself instead of with friends. Lots of time talking to yourself, right?”
Gregory: “Socialization is draining, yes. But I’m not a complete loner.”
Therapist: “Well then. Is it the electronics you like? I saw in your file that you have developed software programs that talk to you and repeat phrases, right?”
Gregory: “That I will confirm.”
Therapist: “The program asks you questions and prompts you for responses. It's kind of like your own self therapy, isn't it? Another way of talking to yourself to work things out, right? When I saw some of your recent encrypted conversation logs, that's what I thought I was looking at.”
Gregory: “That’s what I programmed it to do.”
Therapist: “It felt like I was watching someone go back and forth in their own head, but the text found something that's different than that. When I read what they found, at first I thought I was looking at more examples of you just talking with yourself.”
Gregory: “Yes, and?”
Therapist: “Then I realized… it was different. When I study this, it sounds like there is someone else responding to you. Who is it?”
Gregory: “... Let’s just say it’s someone who I’ve been trying to reach for a very long time. Someone that I miss very, very much.”
Therapist: “...Would it be appropriate of me to ask who this ‘someone’ is?”
Gregory: “No one in particular that you need to know about… don’t worry about it.”
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Log #7:
Therapist: “I saw some inkblot test results in your file. I like inkblot tests… you want to do one?”
Gregory: “I don’t see why not.”
Therapist: “Yes? Okay. How about this one? What do you see?”
Gregory: “Let me get a closer look…”
Therapist: “What… you want to hold it? Okay.”
**the faint rustling of paper can be heard**
Gregory: “It looks… like… like a mask. Can’t tell which type, though.”
Therapist: “You think it’s a mask? It reminds you of a mask, like a disguise? Yeah, I can see that. You like the idea of being disguised?”
Gregory: “Masks are unsettling- they hide the face, but they can help. Sometimes.”
Therapist: “Disguises let you be sort of invisible, don’t they? You can get away with almost anything when you’re invisible, can’t you? Yeah? You like that idea, huh?”
Gregory: “... I entertain such ideas often.”
Therapist: “Huh. Well, okay, moving on. I have another report that we need to talk about.”
Gregory: “Aiy, this again. Okay, fine- details, please.”
Therapist: “Apparently, the techs were reviewing communications going in and out of this building and they came across some interesting things. They say you were in communication with someone, or maybe something, pretty strange. What do you think about that?”
Gregory: “...”
Therapist: “Nothing, huh? Well, the texts say it looked to them like it was an attempt to manipulate you, or maybe trying to lure you somewhere.”
Gregory: “...Oh?”
Therapist: “There, that’s better- on this side of the desk I can see your eyes… your eyes are very pretty- and very unique too, aren’t they?”
Gregory: “...I used to get that a lot. Still do.”
Therapist: “Yeah. The thing is, though… when I read the communications I get something different out of them. I don’t think you’re being manipulated here. I think you’re the one doing the manipulating.”
Gregory: “...”
Therapist: “...No comment? Huh?”
Gregory: “... I shall neither confirm nor deny such claims.”
Therapist: “Okay, then… how about this? I have this still shot the techs pulled from the security footage that recorded you in the pizzaplex. That’s you, isn’t it?”
Gregory: “...I can barely see the image. And why do they have cameras in the underground tunnels...?”
Therapist: “I know this image is distorted… pretty heavily, too, but I think it looks like you. And you’re not alone here. You’re talking to someone… or something. It’s hard to tell. What are those things?”
Gregory: “... The animatronics.”
Therapist: “They almost look like… rabbit ears.”
Gregory: “Bonnie’s ears… they’re kinda long, ‘innit? Haha~!”
Therapist: “What…? You find that amusing?”
Gregory: “Ah… you don’t?”
Therapist: “Well… I guess it is.”
____________________________________________
Log #8:
Therapist: “I got another message from the techs at the Pizzaplex. I'm afraid it's about you again.”
Gregory: “This is the second time this month… what is it this time?”
Therapist: “The techs have been struggling to fix some serious glitches with the robots. I'm not sure what exactly is wrong, except that it's making the robots more ‘eerie’ than entertaining.”
Gregory, caught off guard: “What…?”
Therapist: “You like that? Eerie instead of entertaining?”
Gregory: “I… define ‘eerie’ in proper context and I might, I guess.”
Therapist: “Thanks, but it's really not that funny. Apparently the glitch extended beyond the robots… it went system-wide. It began infecting all of the machines.”
Gregory: “Including the VIP access doors and security cameras?”
Therapist: “Yes. And when the techs traced the glitch back to its origin, it led them to you.”
Gregory: “I didn’t…”
**Gregory looks down at his hands, visibly shaken.**
Gregory: “It came from… me? I didn’t, though…!”
Therapist: “Sure, sure. I'm not going to pretend to understand everything I'm reading here, but, what I get is that this system-wide glitch was like a cascade, that was broadcasting a very dangerous and extremely cryptic message… it appears to have been the error code of the virus combating with another malware system tracked from another source. You know of it?”
Gregory: “The altar… the room… it’s still intact…!?”
Therapist: “While the techs were trying to reprogram the system to remove the glitch, the source of the glitch shifted. You'll have to excuse me, I'm not all that familiar with computer-programming, but I might get this wrong, but, what I understand is that the glitch stopped being a glitch, and turned into an intentional set of sub-routines that were aimed at creating the same thing the glitch created.”
Gregory: “I… how, though. Did I interface with anything unintentionally…?”
Therapist: “You should remember if you did, because those sub-routines seemed to have come from you. Can you explain that?”
Gregory: “You sound a bit accusatory here. Did I do something wrong? Did I break the law without knowing, or something…?”
Therapist: “Listen, I'm on your side here. Our sessions are just between you and me. The techs can't prove what they think, so you're not in trouble.”
Gregory: “So… I’m not.”
Therapist: “No. I just thought you could tell me what you're trying to do. Maybe if we could get to the bottom of that, we could help you. What do you think?”
Gregory: “...”
Therapist: “Still not talking?”
Gregory, faintly and to himself: “It must’ve been, if not…”
Therapist: “Alright. Well then, let's do this. Why don't we talk about the research I did in your past, shall we?”
Gregory: “...!?”
Therapist: “Some therapists think they should only focus on information they get from their clients, but, some therapists, like me, think it's helpful to find out about clients from other sources.”
Gregory: “...Miss, what are you trying to get at here?”
Therapist: “Well, take a guess. Wanna guess what I found out when I looked into the tradgey of your past? All that stuff about your parents and your siblings?”
Gregory: “...”
**Gregory’s eyes widen fall to the floor- his breaths grow shallow.**
Therapist: “You aren't even gonna look at me? Fine. You can look at the floor all you want. But it won't change the fact that none of what you said in your file about your parents was true.”
Gregory: “Oh, so now I’m a liar?”
Therapist: “Yeah, of course, because you didn’t trust me as well as your previous counselors. Like, at all. The truth is, you had great parents. A great childhood.”
Gregory: “And I made the decision to tell you-”
Therapist, cutting Gregory off: “Why did you lie? Look at me. Tell me why you lied. You-”
**Gregory’s gaze shoots up sharply, letting the Therapist’s words die on her tongue. His eyes, considerably darker, glare daggers into her being, and his teeth are bared defensively, tears glistening on his lashes.**
Gregory: “Lady, let me finish, damnit! Do you even know that great things in life can be lost? People in life who have it bad aren’t born with nothing, you know! Can’t you keep your mind open for three seconds!?”
**A long moment of stunned, tense silence can be heard.**
Therapist: (clears throat) “...Ahem. Mhm. Well, I can understand why you might feel angry about the way I just confronted you.”
Gregory: “Understatement.”
Therapist: “I know, and I’m sorry. Why don't we come back to this another day?”
**Gregory grows tight-lipped, shaking his head ‘no’.**
Therapist: “You're shaking your head as though that's not going to happen.”
Gregory: “...Ignore me. When I finally get what I want, you’ll understand everything.”
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