theshiaxartistwrites - Tumblr blog

theshiaxartistwrites · 2 years ago

Text

Dawn of Trouble

Fandom: Five Nights At Freddy's: Security Breach Rating: Explicit Tw: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Violence, Blood and Gore, Child Death, Character Death, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence AO3 Link

Chapter Three

The elevator to Gator Golf was crammed with rowdy kids and exasperated parents. Don was forced to press himself into a corner to avoid being knocked into by the flailing children. The crackle of the speaker caught his attention, the children quieting when an automated voice came on.

“Did you know that bears love pizza sauce more than honey?"

Don's nose wrinkled.

"It’s true! Before their extinction,"

'Extinction?' Don arched an eyebrow at the speaker.

"Bears were known to attack pizza delivery trucks more than any other food service vehicles. This has been another fun Faz Fact!”

'Fun Faz Fact'. What bullshit. Teaching kids that bears were extinct? Some dumb kid was going to get hurt some day while trying to feed a bear pizza. The shrill noises of amazement from the younger kids in the elevator were not a good sign to the contrary. Don was beside himself with relief when the doors finally opened and they were able to exit.

The elevator let off on a carpeted upper walkway that curved around the left side of the attraction, with places to sit and eat while you watched kids play mini golf. Don walked to the railing to look out over the room, taking in the synthetic jungle beneath him. It was a bit dark for an indoor golf course, only the winding walkways were bathed in a neon green light. The little orange bulb lights that dangled from the ceiling looked more like fireflies than actually lighting up anything. Don could hear the heavy snarl of fake gators around the course, but with the sounds of birds, bugs, and frogs beneath the sounds of music and running water, it really did feel like a jungle swamp. Did children really find this fun?

Across the way from where he stood, Don could see a narrow stage with two animatronics standing on it. It was hard to see exactly who, but the long tail on the one was sure to belong to Montgomery. Despite being on stage, neither seemed to be playing their instruments, facing one another instead in a rather aggressive manner. Was this part of a show?

Don started to walk around the walkway towards the stage, squinting to see if he could tell what was happening. Montgomery let out a snarl that Don could hear from halfway across the room, a child began to cry somewhere in the dark. Whatever was happening, it was his job as security to make sure it didn't get violent, so he ran.

The walkway let down right beside the stage, Don taking the steps two at a time once he could hear the yelling. Getting up on stage was easy, Don pulling himself up behind one of the giant speakers so he was out of view of the audience. He still had no way of knowing if this was an act or not.

Both animatronics had bass guitars, but neither were playing, their instruments tucked to their sides so they could stand nose-to-nose. One was obviously Montgomery Gator, a large green alligator with a black oilskin hat tipped forward over his angry eyes. His casing was painted to have gator-skin pants and black gloves, with a paint job on his torso to mimic a black bush ranger jacket, metal studs on his shoulder pads, gloves, and belt. It wasn't hard to see that his face was much less expressive than the Daycare Attendant’s had been, looking more like stiff plastic like Foxy's.

The other animatronic was a purple rabbit, with a hot pink bowtie and black suspenders, though the suspenders attached to his studded belt, since his pink and black tiger-striped pants were merely painted on. His eyes were narrowed at Monty past star-shaped sunglasses with yellow frames. Given that Don only knew of one rabbit at the Pizzaplex, this had to be Bonnie.

Where he was now, Don could barely hear their argument, which was mostly Monty snarling and pointing aggressively at Bonnie.

"-you're nothing but a spoiled, egotistical, bitch!" Monty snapped, his teeth inches from Bonnie's nose. That kind of language seemed out of place for kid's entertainment, maybe this was not an act and needed to be stopped.

"And you're a second-rate pool toy." Bonnie scoffed as Don stepped out from behind the speaker, stepping up behind Monty. Monty let out a growl, reeling back his fist with malign intent. Don saw the gator's elbow wind back and put up his hand to block the blow.

CRACK.

Don stumbled and dropped flat on his back, hand and nose flaring in pain. He hadn't managed to stop the blow at all, only managing to cushion the blow of Monty's elbow to his nose. He'd caught plenty of thrown punches and elbows in the past, but the strength behind the animatronics' swings was something beyond inhuman. He'd need to avoid a physical fight with any of them if he was going to survive this place.

"What did you do!?" Bonnie snapped, stepping forward to shove a stunned Monty out of his way. Don sat up rather quickly, pinching his nose shut with his right hand and looking woefully at his already bruising left. Between the spots in his vision he could see Bonnie, knelt down to make sure he was okay. Bonnie turned on Monty so fast, Monty flinched.

"Are you trying to get decommissioned?" Bonnie hissed, Monty looking as frantic as a robot could. Bonnie stepped behind Don and slipped his hands under Don's arms, carefully standing him back on his feet. One glance at the kids who were watching the stage with wide, fearful eyes and Monty was gone, running off backstage and disappearing behind the curtain. Don was still too dizzy from the blow to give chase, turning to look at Bonnie instead.

"Thanks for-" Don blinked, Bonnie had already turned away and was moving to get off the stage, leaving Don leaning against the speaker.

"Hold on!" Don called, collecting himself and walking after the rabbit. Bonnie stopped and sneered over his shoulder.

"What do you want?" Bonnie asked in a huff. Don frowned, an anger flaring in his chest for a moment before he quelled it.

"What was all that about?" Don asked, his thanks abandoned.

"The crocodile was throwing a pity party." Bonnie dismissed it and took another step down the short stage stairs.

"Hm," Don's unamused noise seemed to halt the rabbit. "Anything I need to worry about?"

"Oh please," Bonnie turned to look at him, sneering down his nose at Don despite being below him. "You're here for appearances only, little man. Clean yourself up, before a kid sees you making a disgrace of the Pizzaplex." Bonnie turned and walked away, leaving Donald f u m i n g.

Would he break his hand if he tried to punch that stupid purple rabbit? A crowbar might work. He regretted getting in Monty's way now, he could absolutely understand the desire to assault him. Anyone with that much ego was bound to piss off every single person they came into contact with. Still, the tin hare had a point, Don could feel blood on his fingers and didn’t really want to deal with stains on his nice white shirt.

–

The bathrooms in Monty Golf were crowded with children, mostly little punks that were making a ruckus in the stalls, flooding the toilets, and tormenting the wet floor sign bots and staff bot that was mopping the floor by covering them in toilet paper. When Don stepped inside, his hands and face bloody and his glare one of pure aggravation, the bathroom was very quickly emptied.

"Damn, those little shits made one hell of a mess." He grumbled, grimacing at the wet shlap of his shoes across the floor. His nose wasn't dripping at the moment, so he took a second to help get all of the toilet paper off of the staff bot and sign bots. Using some of the paper to get up some of the water before throwing the mushy mass into the nearby trash bin.

"You good?" He asked the staff bot, who was recollecting its mop. It turned to look at him, but did not nod or say anything.

"I'll, uh, take that as a yes." Don stepped away to wash his hands and face and see the extent of the damage. His nose wasn't broken, but he had some decent bruising and a small cut on his nostril that stung. Both sides of his hand were bruised and his palm was swollen slightly, a nice cut across his palm that he hadn't noticed before. Thankfully, his nose hadn't bled enough to get on his shirt, but his palm had managed to stain his cuff enough that cold water only got rid of most of it.

"Fu-" He caught one of the sign bots staring at him in the mirror. "Uuuuuuum. Hm." With how small and cute it was, it felt like cursing in front of a toddler. "Er, I need a first aid kit," Don said aloud, turning to the staff bot that had returned to its mopping. "Do you know where one is?"

There was a soft ding and Don looked down at the sign bot that was looking up at him.

"You know where one is, lil bud?" Don asked again, amused when the sign bot spun in place. Don grabbed a paper towel to keep the cut on his palm from bleeding and followed the little bot when it sped out of the bathroom. It led him to the elevator, which was thankfully a little less jam-packed, and out into the main Atrium. Don kept track of where they were headed with his map app, his curiosity peaked as they passed into Rockstar Row. Where was this thing taking him?

The 'hallway' that was Rockstar Row seemed to be a museum dedicated to Fazbear history, framed posters and artwork hung on the walls and glass cases full of memorabilia and…

Don stopped by one of the cases.

It had a strange, rusty metal skull with one eye attached to it. Bits of dirt clung to it and the frayed old wires that stuck out of it. It was strange to see this so close to where the main animatronics spent their time, like the decapitated head of an ancestor set out on display for children to gawk at. Perhaps he was reading too much into it. It was likely the animatronics didn't even acknowledge this thing as any more than an old chunk of metal.

A bump against his leg yanked his attention from the case and back to the sign bot that was looking up at him.

"Sorry, got distracted." Don said, motioning the bot to lead the way. The bot made a noise like a chirp and turned, rolling away once more. Don followed close this time, taking a glance at the massive curtained windows they passed. Above each window was a character in neon lights, Chica, Bonnie, Roxanne, and Freddy. Chica and Bonnie's curtains were closed, the lights turned off inside to denote that they were elsewhere. Roxanne's, however, were drawn back so you could look inside. The wolf was sitting at her vanity, taking pictures with a young girl in a racing jumpsuit, even signing the little Roxy plush that the girl held out to her. These animatronics really were just robotic celebrities that they didn't have to pay.

Don stopped again, this time because the sign bot had led him into a small hallway beside Freddy's room that had velvet ropes leading to a door that the little bot stopped in front of before turning to him again.

"Uh, I don't think I'm allowed in there, buddy," Don didn't approach the door. "Pretty sure that's the big guy's room."

The curtain to Freddy's room had been pulled shut, but Don had been able to see the light on inside. If the big guy himself was there, it would be a little awkward to just walk inside-

Though.

He WAS supposed to introduce himself to him.

Don crossed his arms with a frown, thinking it over while the sign bot stared at him.

What was the harm? He gets talked down to again? Big deal.

Don stepped forward and knocked lightly on the door, stepping back when he heard the heavy thud of metal footsteps approaching almost instantaneously. The door slid open and Freddy Fazbear stood there, a pristine example of what a well design animatronic could look like. The bear smiled down at Don.

"Hello-" Freddy was cut off by the sign bot wheeling its way into the room, Freddy quickly moving his feet as if to not have his toes rolled over.

"Ack! Sorry," Don tried to grab at the little bot and missed, watching it roll away to an arcade machine in the corner of the room. "I'm not sure what's gotten into him."

"Oh it's quite alright!" Freddy said with a toothy grin, he seemed to have a little more emotive capability than the other Glamrocks, but not much. "You're Roberts, the new security guard, right?"

"Yes sir," Don smiled back and offered his good hand to shake. "You can just call me Don though."

Freddy took his hand and shook it gently.

"A pleasure to meet you, Don." Freddy gripped his hand, concern suddenly taking over his tone. "You are injured."

"Oh, uh, a little mishap with Monty is all," Don tugged his hand back, lifting his injured hand to show Freddy the paper towel. "I asked the little guy here for a first aid kit and he brought me here." Don motioned to the sign bot, trying to ignore how horrified Freddy looked.

"Goodness," Freddy crossed his arms anxiously. "I do hope Monty didn't hurt you on purpose?"

"Oh no, it was an accident, that's all." Don assured him, feeling a little silly reassuring a robot.

"I'm glad, Monty likes to be rough, but he's never been violent before."

Don just hummed in reply, thinking that Monty had been rather violent with Bonnie, or had attempted to be.

"But!" Freddy turned as though he remembered something. "Let me get that first aid kit for you!" He exclaimed, moving to the arcade machine the sign bot still sat beside. He excused himself as he reached into a spot between the game and the wall and pulled out a small red and white box.

"I like to keep one here for emergencies." Freddy explained, opening the box and pulling out several things as he returned to Don's side. With Freddy's help, Don set about doctoring his palm. An alcohol wipe to clean it out, a bit of antibiotic Faz-sporin cream, and a nice clean roll of bright blue Faz-wrap gauze to finish it off.

"Thank you, Freddy, a bit embarrassed that I got hurt on my first day, to tell you the truth." Don helped put the trash in the little bin under Freddy's vanity, while Freddy repacked the first aid kit and put it away.

"Oh please don't be! Injuries happen-at no fault of Fazbear Entertainment or its affiliates, there's no need to worry over the little things. Have you met the rest of your coworkers yet?"

Don was rather focused on the 'no fault of' part, but lifted his head when he realized Freddy was staring at him.

"I-uh, haven't met any of them yet, actually." Don admitted, thinking on how he hadn't seen a single human staff member since he arrived. Freddy gave him an odd look, ears swiveling slightly to express his confusion.

"I thought you said you'd met Monty?" Freddy mused.

Oh.

Freddy meant the other animatronics.

Of course.

The big bear probably had them coded as all being coworkers. It was only reasonable that Don was now added to that list.

"Oh!" Don smiled. "Sorry, I misheard you." He laughed it off before Freddy could question it. "I have! I had a run in with Monty and Bonnie, I got to play a bit with Foxy, and I got to see Sundrop in action."

"So you still need to meet Chica and Roxanne?"

"And the DJ." Don amended. Freddy nodded in understanding.

"I think you will like the DJ, he is such a nice fellow. I do believe Chica is down on the dancefloor currently, you may be able to meet them both. Two birds, one stone as the saying goes?"

"What kind of bird is the DJ?" Don asked, internally kicking himself for the terrible joke, Lark would have laughed. Terrible taste. Freddy just looked confused.

"Nevermind," Don waved it away. "It's been nice to meet you, Freddy, but I should let you get back to it."

"It was a pleasure," Freddy's ears wiggled happily. "You are always welcome here, even if I am not available." Freddy pointed to the ceiling. "There are no cameras here, so if you ever need a break-" Freddy winked.

Don laughed and patted Freddy's arm before turning for the door. No cameras? In the main Star's greenroom? That felt like either a lie or a massive oversight. Can robots lie? Don nearly tripped over the sign bot, who rushed for the door the moment it was open.

"Careful, little dude." Don chided, sidestepping out of its way and watching it zip off down the hallway. Don sighed, checking his watch and glancing at the map. It was already past 11am and it was a good walk from Rockstar Row to the DJ's stage in the West Arcade. At least he only had three more animatronics to meet, though Freddy's comment put a weird feeling in his stomach. -Were- there any other humans working at the Pizzaplex?

#shiaxart #fanfiction #fnaf security breach #chapter three #Dawn of Trouble

0 notes

theshiaxartistwrites · 2 years ago

Text

Dawn of Trouble

Chapter Two

Finding his way to the Superstar Daycare was simple, the loud sounds of children screaming with delight were easy to follow. Don did, however, notice that his Faz-watch tracked his exact location, a mental note to not wear it when doing anything 'questionable'. The daycare was much taller than he'd expected, with a drop off area on the open second floor and a massive set of wooden double doors set into a glass wall that surrounded the play area. The netting that spanned from the top of the glass to the ceiling was a nice touch, drawing his eyes up to the cloud-shaped lights that dangled from the soft blue ceiling.

Don looked around for anyone that looked like they worked at the Daycare. The only one he spotted was a staff bot with an orange and blue hat with bear ears that said 'Staff' on it, who was cleaning up a nasty looking liquid mess near one of the tables.

Not a human staff member in sight.

Don stepped up to the glass wall and peered inside, seeing dozens of children sprinting about, sitting on the colorful playmats to play with shaped blocks, or clambering over the Glamrock themed jungle gym that spanned the play area. Once more, he saw not a single human adult inside. His watch said there was a Daycare Attendant, so there had to be someone here. Don spotted a long desk out of the corner of his vision, a dull grey space despite the rainbow that arched over it and the bright screen that flickered with static on the wall behind it. The chairs were empty and the computers there seemed lifeless.

Tap tap-tap tap.

Don snapped his head forward, then up. His chest felt cold, his stomach dropping into his feet.

Looking down at him with the friendliest of smiles was a massive red and yellow jester. Don was not a small man, but the top of his head barely reached their waist. Bright yellow eyes stared at him through the glass, a wide smile growing wider when Don made eye contact. He didn't think robots could -smile- like that, watching wrinkles appear at the corners of their eyes. Bright orange triangles, like sun rays, poked out of the ridge of the robot's somewhat flat head. Don was forced out of his shock when the jester raised a hand and waved at him eagerly, pointing towards the double doors. Don hesitated, considering leaving quickly instead of confronting the monstrosity before him.He was anything but a coward, however, and moved to the doors, stepping back when they opened a bit too fast, the jester appearing quite suddenly from behind them.

"Hello, new friend!" The jester bounded forward until he was right in front of Don, all happy waving hands and bouncing on his toes, jingling from the bells on his feet and wrists. Don’s stomach was doing flips, fight or flight kicking in hard as the robot bounced between being poised to pounce and towering over him.

"H-Hello," Don struggled to find a friendly tone, steeling himself from taking a step back and putting on a nice wide grin to match. "I'm Donald, the new Daytime Security officer."

"We know!" Sunny stuck out a thin, long-fingered hand in greeting, shaking it energetically when Don gingerly took hold. The bells on its wrist jingled loudly. "We saw your profile through the Main Network."

"A-Ah," Don’s chest clenched, Sunny’s hands were large and long enough to wrap around his head with ease, maybe even his waist. Still, Don noted the yellow tips of the robot's fingers and the palms of its hands seemed to be covered in soft silicone padding. "Well that's…er…cool."

"Very!" Sunny clasped his hands together, Don taking note of the pink glitter that seemed caked in the seams of the robot's fingers and joints. "We are the Daycare Attendant! Though the children like to call me Sundrop or Sunny."

The use of 'we' did not slip past notice, but Don just clung to his smile, trying so hard to remain friendly.

"It’s a pleasure to meet you, Sundrop." Don tipped his hat at him, using the motion as a reason to take a small step backward. The robot seemed beyond delighted, holding his own face and muttering giddily about having a new friend. Don watched the way Sunny's face seemed to actually squish and stretch, thinking it must also be made of the same soft silicone as its fingertips, with mechanisms underneath to assist with expressions.

"You know," Don continued, swallowing down his nervousness. "I didn't expect you to be a robot," Sunny slowed in his bouncing to look down at Don. "I expected a person in a costume at most, but I guess I underestimated the technology at play here."

"Fazbear Entertainment LLC prides itself on top of the line technology and child care protocols." Sunny said stiffly, his smile seeming a little less energetic, like he was reading from a cue card. Don couldn't help a sympathetic twinge.

"Well," Don tucked his hands into his pockets. "I'm actually a little sad now that I didn't get that Daycare Assistant position, you seem like a really fun person to work with."

Sunny made a sound akin to a gasp and leaned forward into Don's personal space, Don’s heart skipping a beat, knees locked.

"Oh! We would have loved that! We would have had SO much fun together! Though most don't-"

Don blinked when Sunny froze and turned his head away, letting Don get a glimpse of the weird double jointed neck that held Sunny's head on, mostly hidden behind his ruffled collar. Don didn't get to ask what was wrong before Sun was gone, taking long, quick strides away towards the jungle gym. Don got to stand and watch in fascination, and mild horror, as Sunny clambered over the hard plastic tubes and cubes like a spider on the hunt. He was a lot more limber than one would expect from an animatronic of that size. Sunny seemed to find what he was looking for and used his long arms to reach inside and pull out a little girl who was in tears.

It was fascinating to watch Sunny work, quickly moving the girl to the floor, cradling and rocking her, Don could hear the robot hushing her gently with sweet words of comfort. The girl had skimmed her elbow in the play structure and required a bandaid and some encouragement, but after a moment in Sunny's care she was more than ready to get back to playing. Something about the scene settled the tension in Don’s shoulders. Sunny waved her off and walked back over, an apologetic look mixed with his standard grin.

"Sorry about that, friend! Little Jennifer got a bit of a booboo in the jungle gym."

"It's quite alright," Don waved it off. "It was amazing to see how quickly you handled it. Makes one wonder if you even need any humans here to help."

"Oh certainly!" Sunny exclaimed, sunbeams retreating slightly into his head as though aghast at the idea otherwise. "Our human coworkers are invaluable! They're able to do many things that we can't and make decisions that we could never."

"Huh." Honestly it was somewhat profound that the animatronic was aware of its own limitations. Sun spoke up again before Don could think about it too hard.

"You really should reapply for the Daycare Assistant position!" Sunny urged. "We don't have one…currently! And we can put in a good word!"

"Really? That'd be awesome!" Don brightened, smiling nice and wide to mimic Sunny's smile. "It's been really nice to meet you, I hope I get to see more of you."

"Oh us too!! You're always welcome here! Just be quiet if you come around nap time~" Sunny giggled and reached out to snag Don's hat and quickly tousle his hair. Don flinched. Instincts tugged against his act, risking breaking his professional behavior in a way no human had ever managed. Laughing loudly in surprise, Don brushed Sundrop’s hand away and smiled tight-lipped as his hat was dropped gently back on his head.

"We hope to see you around, Mister Roberts.” Sunny straightened up and waved energetically with both jingling hands.

“Only if you call me ‘Don’.” Don straightened his hat and glasses as he walked backwards towards the exit with a wave of his own.

“Deal!” Sunny’s arm shot up, waving harder until Don turned away.

That was…horrific.

Is that what he had to look forward to?

Giant animatronics that looked and acted way too human? He was expecting people in suits and robots on wheels that could barely handle stairs. Don was coming to a realization that the high price on this job was not as fatuous as he thought. He didn’t even know why he was there. Why he was trying to become the Daycare Assistant. And he wouldn’t until he’d achieved his goal.

A soft chime from his watch pulled him out of his doom-spiraling.

A red dot on the Tasks tab caught his eye and he tapped on it, seeing that “Greet and introduce yourself to The Daycare Attendant” had been crossed out, yet “Dress according to Fazbear Entertainment Standards” had not. The hell? What was he missing? Whatever, he didn't have time to waste on it right now, he had seven more animatronics to meet and a Pizzaplex to familiarize himself with. Maybe one of the robots could tell him what was missing from his dress code.

Gator Golf and its resident, Montgomery Gator, were up next. Don had to double back, following his map into a gift shop on the first floor of the Daycare to a roll up door. A short jog down a hallway led him into a pirate themed play area, Kid's Cove. A large statue of an anthropomorphic foxy with a hook hand and a blue fisherman's coat caught his attention first. Honestly it was nicer than the golden statue in the lobby, less gaudy anyway. At the base of the statue was the fox animatronic himself, though he was dressed a little differently. More pirate-like.

Black pointed shoulder pads blended into the black pirate-coat design on his upper body, a spiked collar and spiked wristbands adding a punk rock touch. A black bandana and yellow, star-shaped eyepatch were nearly hidden under a glamrock-style mop of long red hair, a braid on either side to frame his face. Black paint up his legs looked like pants with gold buttons on his ankles to match his golden hook. Of all of the wild look, Don was mostly surprised by how short the fox was.

Don himself was about 5'8", average height and build. It made him easier to miss. The fox was maybe half a foot taller than him, nowhere near as massive as The Daycare Attendant. Foxy perked up when he noticed him, jumping up from where he'd been knelt down with a child for pictures and pointed at Don with his hook.

"Avast! Bilge rat ahoy!" Foxy yelled, dozens of little pirates turning to look at what their beloved captain was yelling about. "Yer about to feed the fish, bilge rat! No lawmen on me beach!"

Ah. So that was what he was yelling about. Don fought a smile, deciding to play along.

"Oh? And are you going to make me walk the plank, Captain?" Don put his hands on his hips boldly. Foxy grinned and jumped up on a barrel, drawing his toy sword and pointing it at Don.

"Dead men tell no tales!" He cried to the children around him. The tiny pirates echoed his battle cry and waved their paper swords in the air as they charged towards the security officer.

"Oh shi-" Don sprinted to the side, dancing and dodging grabby little hands and floppy paper blades. He jumped and spun and stepped around in hurried circles until one child managed to catch his leg and make him stagger. By then his chances of survival were zero, a small swarm of children climbing all over him, dragging him down and whacking him with their swords. The only real pain was when a little girl put too much weight on his right hip bone, causing him to wince.

"Parley! Parley!" Don called between laughs, hands up in surrender.

"Aye! The scurvy dog calls for mercy!" Foxy boasted over his tiny army of pirates, reaching in past them to grab Don by the arm and hoist him to his feet. "Give us yer name, lawman."

From the way Foxy said it, it was clearly more for him than the children that still huddled and clung to him.

"Donald Roberts, Captain." Don put one hand on his chest. "I was just passing through, honest."

Foxy gave a loud hum in thought, tapping his chin with his hook.

"I 'pose we could let ye pass, Able Rate," Some of the children cried out in protest. "But! Ye must prove yer willin ta cooperate with us pirates!"

Don was trying so hard not to laugh at the odd mix of language and goofy pirate accent. Foxy pulled out a sticker and handed it to the biggest kid of the lot, who quickly tore off the backing and slapped the sticker onto Don's thigh. Don looked down and snorted at the upside-down sticker that was just Pirate Captain Foxy showing off his hook and teeth with a tattered banner that read 'A pirate's life for me!' under him.

"Now yer one of us!" Foxy stood up proudly, hand and hook on his hips. "Free ta come and go as ye please, long as ye come visit yer Captain now and again."

"Aye aye, Captain!" Don saluted, the last of the children releasing him and cheering that they had 'saved' their captain. Don didn't really understand, but tipped his hat to Foxy, who winked (Don assumed anyway, hard to tell with the eyepatch) and bellowed to catch the kids' attentions once more and direct them away so Don could escape. Don did not wait before heading for the exit, ignoring the little chime that sounded from his watch. One more down, six to go.

#shiaxart #fnaf security breach #fanfiction #Dawn of Trouble #chapter two

0 notes

theshiaxartistwrites · 2 years ago

Text

Dawn of Trouble

Chapter One

“So what’a ya got next, Badger?” Lark asked the still, empty air after he turned off the cd player they had propped up on a crate nearby. Badger, Lark’s elder by about a decade, got up from where he’d been knelt, tossing aside his gorey bush knife. Aged tan skin was hard to see in the dim light, his scarred shoulders making him easier to spot in the dark. His amber eyes were tired, but seemed to brighten when they turned toward Lark.

“Got my assignment this morning,” Badger gruffed, wiping bloodied hands on his once white tank top before pulling a metal case of hand-rolled cigarettes out of his pocket. “Some undercover work at that robot mall out West.” Badger stepped over his flayed victim and walked over to Lark, bare feet slapping wetly on the concrete.

“Robot mall?” Lark dug out his lighter and flicked it on, holding it up for the taller man to lean down, hands cupped over the flame, and inhale the little blaze into his homemade fag. “Do you mean that Fazbear’s Pizzaplex that opened up last year?”

“That’s the one.” Badger straightened up, letting his smoke fill the cold air between them.

“What could they possibly need you to do undercover work at a kid’s entertainment place for?” Lark sat back, trying not to be dripped on by Badger’s blood-drenched arms.

“Who knows, but the money is nothing short of outlandish.” Badger turned the cigarette in his hand and held it to Lark, who graciously leaned forward and took a drag without taking it from him.

“Damn, any idea how long it’ll be for?” Lark sighed, content.

“A month or two is their estimate, longer if required. I’m going to be working daytime security there.” Badger stuck the cig between his teeth. “They’re paying for cosmetic surgery, said I gotta look the part.”

“Aw,” Lark pouted, reaching up to play with one of the grey streaks in Badger’s long black hair. “I like the silver fox look.”

Badger huffed a little puff of smoke in Lark’s face, grabbing the younger man by the jaw.

“Are you calling me old?” He pulled the cigarette from his mouth.

“Absolutely.” Lark grinned, turning his head in an attempt to bite Badger’s hand, missing when Badger quickly pulled away.

“Don’t do that, you don’t know where he’s been.” Badger flicked Lark’s.

“Say’s the man leaving bloodied prints all over my face!” Lark laughed, grabbing a rag to wipe the blood from his forehead and cheeks. They fell into a quiet lull, slowly cleaning up while they shared Badger’s cigarette. Once the body was properly chopped, wrapped, and tucked into several of the crates, the floor mopped and bleached clean, and all their tools recollected, the pair made sure to wash themselves up in a nearby bathroom before pulling on their coats.

“That everything?” Lark practically skipped over to Badger’s side.

“Aye.” Badger nodded, opening the door to let Lark out before stepping out himself into the afternoon light.

“Kinda ironic that he picked you, huh?” Lark prodded Badger’s side with an elbow.

“Mm.”

“Y’know, since I was supposed to be the bait.”

“Piss poor bait.”

Hey!” Lark let out a startled laugh, smacking Badger’s arm, not missing the smirk behind his beard. “It’s not my fault I wasn’t pretty enough for him!”

“Oh? Is it mine then?”

“Absolutely! You stole my spotlight!” Lark pouted, crossing his arms with a huff. Badger draped his arm around Lark’s shoulders, pulling him close and nuzzling his cheek before giving him a playful bite on the soft part of his face.

“Ow! Rude!” Lark laughed, pushing Badger away.

“It’s alright, Lark, I still think you’re cute enough to eat.”

Lark groaned, pushing Badger hard enough to make him nearly stumble into the street.

“It doesn’t count if the actual cannibal didn’t want a taste.” Lark laughed, grabbing and dragging Badger back to his side so they could walk arm in arm again. It was a few blocks before Lark spoke up again.

“I’m gonna miss you.”

Badger blinked, looking down at the dejected man looking up at him. Lark squeezed Badger’s arm.

“Lark…It’s just some undercover work, I won’t even be gone that long and then I’ll be home.” Badger brushed a bit of the bright caution-yellow hair out of Lark’s face, tilting his chin so he could see Lark’s deep walnut brown eyes. “We’ll even take a year off and go on vacation somewhere loud and busy and fun, just for you.”

“You promise?” Lark wrinkled his freckled nose at him.

“I promise.” Badger offered up his pinkie finger, locked tight with Lark’s, and planted a nice big smooch on the shorter man’s forehead, his short greying beard causing Lark to giggle and squirm.

Badger left early the next morning after getting his affairs in order and seeing Lark off to the train station. Picking up his designated vehicle from a nearby lot, an refurbished, 1995 Sprinter van in light blue with clear wear and tear. All the seats inside had been removed and it had been remodeled into a camper of sorts. It had a narrow bed, a working sink and stove, a small fridge, and a fair amount of storage space. Too small for a bathroom, though, that wasn’t great, but his bosses worked in specific ways.

He found his new identity in a backpack under the front seat, reading through his history on his way north to his first stop. His new identity was a younger man, 34 to be precise, by the name of Donald Roberts. He liked to be called Don, his favorite color was green, and he had a decade in high security environments. Don was a coffee addict and a smoker, thank god, and was getting married next year to his boyfriend, Larry Bird, of 9 years. The guys upstairs really were being nice to him this round, this was going to be easy.

His mission was to work his way from daytime security to Daycare Assistant, by any means, then he would receive the rest of his mission. Badger nearly inhaled his cigarette when he saw what the Pizzaplex would be paying him. $62.50 an hour. No overtime though. No wonder the pay was so good, they had to pay more than he would earn just from working there. Had to keep his loyalty somehow.

His first stop was at a hospital on the East Coast, a little clinic in the back where he was led into the basement for his ‘touchup’. His beard was shaved and his hair was dyed to remove any grey, then he was put under, getting proper sleep for the first time in a week. Three days later he walked out looking a decade younger, not just his face, but even his hands and body had been revitalized. Didn’t help his bad hip though, all the ‘de-aging’ had been cosmetic only. The picture he sent Lark was met with a multitude of emojis, only half of which Badger actually understood, all of which he knew were thirsty as hell. He was going to miss his little idiot.

His next stop was to what his people called ‘The Locker’, one of many that dotted the country. It was a simple motel building that housed all the things needed for different jobs. The old woman at the reception counter barely looked up from her magazine to flick her cigarette ash on the counter. Badger didn’t meet her eyes, taking his key off the rack behind her and walking up to his room. All of his personal effects would be staying here, locked away until he or Lark came to retrieve them. His clothing, his phone, his ring, even his shoes. All of it was tucked away in a combination safe that was built into the closet inside the otherwise disgusting room. The backpack with his mission specs was also packed up and tossed inside, no longer necessary.

All his new belongings were inside a box on the uncovered mattress that they called a bed. A few sets of clothing, a new phone, a watch, a pair of round glasses, two pairs of shoes, and a wallet with a few hundred dollars in cash and all his new identification. The most unique piece of equipment was a gun, looking like it was made of a sturdy plastic instead of metal, a box of bullets that looked to be made of rubber to pair with it. ‘Don’ got dressed and filled up his pockets with what he could, bundling the rest in his arms and heading back out, leaving the key on the counter as he left. He made short work of packing away all his things into his van and attaching his keys to his wallet, slipping on the glasses and finding that they were not only fake, but plastic as well.

He wasn’t scheduled to start his new job until Monday, so Don spent his weekend driving around and getting himself familiar with the area. He ate out a few times, found where places with public bathrooms were, and where he could park his new home without being accosted by the local pork. When Monday came, Don was dressed up in a nice pair of black slacks, brown dress shoes, and a white t-shirt, as was requested in his new work email.

The Pizzaplex was a bit…more…than Don was prepared for. It had to be roughly four stories tall, with massive windows above the front entrance that he could see a multitude of flashing lights inside. The sheer size of it from the outside had him gawking, perhaps a bit longer than he should have when he noticed some of the parents nearby were giving him wary looks. He brushed back his hair and hurried inside. It was almost brighter inside than out, the pink neon lights reflecting off of the shiny checkerboard floors practically burning his eyes after almost a week of nighttime driving through wooded roads. The sound wasn’t much better, the volume of the music, the laughter and screaming of children and parents alike, and the sounds of games being played elsewhere echoed back as a cacophony of headache-inducing noise. Disorienting was the only way he could describe it. The thought of working here for more than ten minutes had him already thinking of a way out. How hard would it be to get fired-?

No.

No no.

He was a professional.

There was no way some overglorified arcade was going to scare him off. He just needed to adjust.

Don froze before he could even try to find the office he was supposed to be heading for, a short white robot on wheels with a grey ‘staff’ hat on its head rolling towards him with purpose.

“Donald Roberts. Follow me.” It said in a monotone drone, not waiting before it turned around and led the way. Don didn’t hesitate, long legs carrying him quickly after it. It led him out of the main lobby and into a hallway, past a door that read ‘Employees Only’. Led down to a small room on a corner with a sliding metal door, the bot stopped just outside the room, moved aside so he could step past the door.

“All Fazbear Security personnel are required to wear the standard uniform and equipment,” The staff bot said. “All provided at minimal cost to you.”

‘Minimal?’ Don hiked an eyebrow.

“Your daily tasks will be sent to you by way of your company smart watch, any damages to your uniform or equipment will be deducted from your paycheck.” The staff bot continued as Don moved into the room and took a look around. It was a small security room with a set of filing cabinets, a desk, and a computer with several views from the cameras displayed. Folded on the seat of the rather rusty looking office chair was a long sleeve, white button up shirt, a brass security badge, a black ballcap with ‘Security’ on it in bold white lettering, a heavy duty flashlight, a bright orange ‘Faz-Watch’ with a blue wristband, and a green gator-print lanyard with a security badge attached. Turning back towards the door, Don got to watch as the staff bot turned and left without another word.

“Right.” He breathed between clenched teeth, shutting the door while he moved the pile of items and sat down. He put on the Faz-watch first, booting it up to see what exactly it was. It was actually quite a bit more sophisticated than he initially thought. It had four different apps built into it. First was a map of the entire complex, along with a pinpoint of his current location, incredibly handy given how ridiculously complex it all looked at a glance. Second was a ‘Tasks’ section where it seemed his daily and current tasks would appear. Next, a messenger app with a few different contacts already listed.

-Management

-Staff Network

-Main Network

-Emergency Services

-Security Network

He’d have to ask what each of those meant later, but perhaps face-to-face with someone so he didn’t look the fool.

Last was a Cameras App, the godsend to his work, a fully functioning system that let him switch between all the cameras in the building based on floor and area. His job just got astronomically easier, or so he thought. A gentle beeping sounded from the watch, a new task had appeared. Tapping on the little red circle, he blinked at his ‘tasks’.

-Dress according to Fazbear Entertainment Standards

-Spend the day familiarizing yourself with the Pizzaplex layout

-Greet and introduce yourself to Freddy Fazbear

-Greet and introduce yourself to Roxanne Wolf

-Greet and introduce yourself to Glamrock Bonnie

-Greet and introduce yourself to Glamrock Chica

-Greet and introduce yourself to Glamrock Foxy

-Greet and introduce yourself to Montgomery Gator

-Greet and introduce yourself to The Daycare Attendant

-Greet and introduce yourself to DJ Music Man

That was…a lot of meet and greet. Half of the names he recognized as animatronics from the iconic band that the Megaplex made its name with, but the others? Surely at least a few of these were actual people, right? Maybe that was the magic. He was going to meet the people behind the suits. There was no way robots could be so lively and complex, it was a little silly for someone his age to even assume such. Well, no time to waste.

Don pushed himself to his feet, his hip making a loud pop, and pulled on the shirt, tucking it in before putting on the badge and lanyard. The hat was a bit snug and he didn’t have anywhere to put the flashlight, or ‘Faz-Lite’ as it was clearly branded, but it wasn’t like he needed the flashlight during the day anyway. So the flashlight was left on the desk for now, with a plan to get a holster for it later. Checking his map, he made a plan. It seemed the Daycare and Gator Golf were the closest to his current location, so where better to start his introductions?

#shiaxart #fanfiction #fnaf security breach #Dawn of Trouble #chapter one

3 notes · View notes

theshiaxartistwrites · 2 years ago

Text

Heir to Eco

Fandom: Jak and Daxter Rating: Mature Tw: Violence, Abuse, Torture AO3 Link

Chapter Five

Jak felt like he'd just been dropped, his heart slamming against his chest, lungs sucking in every hard breath. Bright lights flashed in his eyes, a loud ringing assaulting his ears. His screams tore through his throat like barbed wire, his teeth gnashing and clacking together ferociously. He could feel every pulse of blood in his veins like liquid fire, burning in his arms and legs and up his neck, every breath fueling the flames. Every moment was pure agony.

And then it was gone.

Jak was on his back. Laying on a simple, musty mattress in a cool, dark room, a thick duvet tangled around him. There was no pain, no lights, no noise besides his quickened breaths. Slowly. Carefully. He sat up, the warmth of the blanket falling into his lap. He was still dressed, but his armor and gloves had been removed. Had he really passed out that hard?

Jak untangled his legs and pulled back the blanket, already missing that enveloping warmth. He eased his legs over the edge and touched his feet to the floor. Cold concrete. Panic spiked in his chest, muscles tensing as he tried to remember where he was. He was free. He was safe. This was not the Baron's prison.

He found himself quietly missing Daxter, longing for the loud mouthed boy's ability to comfort him in even the darkest of moments. Just thinking of his voice helped Jak find it in him to take a deep breath.

The bed creaked softly as he moved off it and stood, dim light leaking under a nearby door. Jak stepped toward it, hand searching the wall once he reached it, flipping on the overhead light. The room was fairly bare. Just furnished with the bed, a nightstand, and a tall rack of shelves on one wall that was full of gun parts, folded clothing, and a few random cans and boxes. Jak's missing armor had been placed neatly on the nightstand. After he'd redonned his armor, Jak opened the door to peek into the hallway.

Now he felt better, the familiar sight of the Underground HQ hallway was comforting. He slipped from the bedroom and down the hall, stepping into the main room. The 'war room', as Torn liked to call it, was empty, the maps and devices had all been put away to keep it safe from prying eyes.

"Mornin, buddy."

Jak turned, smiling a bit when he saw Sig coming down the hallway toward him. Sig had two steaming bowls of food in his hands.

"You alright?" Sig asked, handing a bowl to Jak, who frowned and tilted his head curiously.

"You were screamin," Sig clarified, though he held up a hand when Jak looked mortified. "It happens. It's rare if someone here -isn't- waking up screaming. Still. You okay?"

Jak seemed to consider it for a moment before making small, shy motions.

'I think so. Dreamt of the chair.'

"The…chair?" Sig pinched his eyebrows together, unsure if he got that right. Jak nodded. It took Sig a moment to understand.

"Oh. You mean the chair I found you in?"

Jak nodded again.

"Makes sense, I'd have nightmares too after something like that. You, uh, wanna talk about it? Sig motioned Jak to follow, moving toward the table and pulling up stools for them to sit on. Jak shook his head as he sat down. Jak sat kitty-corner from Sig, blinking when he sat and finally noticed what was in the bowl. Ground meat, chopped onions and tomatoes, even what looked like mushrooms, all in a steaming red sauce.

“Dig in, buddy, this is part of our thanks for getting the water back on,” Sig cheered with his bowl before taking a rather hefty bite. "Folks around here really appreciated the effort, gave us a fuck ton of good food to help the cause."

Jak held the bowl with both hands, soaking in the warmth and the wonderful smell of actual seasonings and meat. How long had it been since he'd had more than bland mush? Thoughts of Keira and Samos shooing him and Daxter out of the kitchen came back to him, the smell of fresh bread and seared yakcow heavy in the air. It made his chest ache.

Jak put the bowl to his lips and savored every ounce of the hearty chili. Sig said nothing, watching Jak eat while halfway to tears, wishing he knew any way to comfort the kid. It was almost a blessing when the building suddenly shook, little bits of dust and debris knocked loose from the ceiling. Jak and Sig grabbed the bolted down table for stability as another explosion shook the city to its core, the ground thundering under their feet. Their nearly empty bowls were sent crashing to the ground, red sauce splattering the concrete. When the shaking finally stopped, Sig snagged his communicator from his pocket.

“Torn! What the fuck is going on?!” He growled into the receiver. Torn’s voice came back alongside gunfire, a static crackle making it hard to understand him.

“Lucky and the Rat botched their job!” Torn snapped back. “They were supposed to just blow the Baron's ammo depot to bits, they took the whole damn building down! Now we’re pinned down in the Western Bazaar by Hellcats!”

“Keep your heads down, I’m on my way.” Sig leapt up from the ground and raced for the door, grabbing his chest plate and gunstaff on his way out. He jumped onto his zoomer and grunted when he felt Jak jump in behind him.

“Dammit kid,” Sig grumbled over his shoulder. “Torn’s gonna give me shit for bringing you with.”

Jak just grabbed onto Sig’s waist with a tight squeeze, Sig throwing the zoomer into full throttle and taking off through the streets. It was chaos, a large plume of black smoke not too far away had the entire city in a stir. Citizens were rushing back to their homes, trying to not be caught on the street as Krimzon Guards swept the area with itchy trigger fingers. The pair passed more than a few arrests and thankfully fewer bodies, unable to stop and help as they had to race to help their own people. More than once they had to duck and dodge blaster fire aimed their way.

They had to pass down into the Industrial Sector, through the East Bazaar, and up through the Garden Sector, Jak trying to remember the route at a glance. Haven was a lot bigger than that little cell he'd spent the last two years in. Dizzyingly so. Speeding up past the Gardens towards the Western Bazaar, they could hear the gunfire and see the flashing lights.

"Alright buddy," Sig called back. "We’ve got the element. We’re gonna slam, pop, and pull, got it?”

‘No???’ Jak signed, shaking his head, absolutely flabbergasted by what Sig had said.

“Good!” Sig hadn’t looked back, leaving Jak to bite his lip and hold on. “Be ready to pull a Hellcat, you ever driven before?”

Once again Jak shook his head, though this time Sig glanced back to see.

“That’s alright, you’ll pick it up.” Sig tugged Jak’s arms off his waist and tapped his shoulders, Jak shifting his grip to around Sig’s neck. Sig pulled a small red device from his pocket, placing it on the front panel of their zoomer, locking the speed to as fast as it would go as the device started to blink and beep.

“Hold tight, mudpuppy, here comes the slam.” Sig shifted so he was standing on the seat, Jak clinging to his back anxiously. They rounded a corner and were met with the sight of two Hellcats and an entire squad of KG heavy firing on a crumbled heap of rubble, Torn trying and failing to fire back with only his handblaster. Jak barely had time to process the fight before their zoomer was aimed at the nearest hellcat, Sig leaping off to the side with Jak still attached as their zoomer slammed into the larger vehicle. Sig landed and quickly ducked behind the rubble alongside Torn and an injured blonde man.

"Pop." Sig grinned as the hellcat shuddered and exploded into bits, raining chunks of flaming metal on the men beneath it.

"Pull out!" Torn yelled, yanking the blonde to his feet and focusing his blaster at the scattered guard and remaining Hellcat that had been thankfully knocked off course. Jak let go of Sig and moved to the blonde man's side, taking over helping him walk at first, so Torn and Sig could focus on cover fire, but quickly picked him up and tossed him over his shoulder when he found how light he was. Jak was already running back in the direction of the Garden Sector, only looking back once when he heard boots behind him to make sure it was Sig and Torn catching up. Unfortunately, he spotted the second Hellcat turn their way in the smoke.

They made it around a bend and something caught Jak's eye. He dashed to the side, running up behind a large metal drum sat down next to one of the massive sprinklers in the area. He set the man down against the drum.

"Jak!" Sig hissed, catching up. "We gotta move-!" Jak snagged the front of Sig's armor and yanked him down, putting him on his back down behind the drum as well. Torn didn't even question it, joining them and pressing his back against the drum, keeping an eye out around the corner. Jak sat hunched on Sig's chest, peeking around the other side and watching the Hellcat and remaining guard rush past their hiding place. No one moved until Torn sighed, relaxing when the KG were finally out of sight.

"Alright, Jak, good job." Sig patted Jak's arm, Jak moving to get off him.

"We need to get him to the Shadow," Torn said, kneeling down beside their injured comrade. "They shot him in the gut, we don't have much-?" Torn flinched at the sound of crunching metal, Jak digging the claws of his glove into the side of the metal drum. They watched as swirling green eco filled the gem, wisps of energy trailing up Jak's arm to the fading bruise on his own cheek.

"What-?" Torn sat back, Jak dropping down and pressing his hand to the blonde's bloodied belly. Even Torn just sat and watched in stunned silence as Jak pressed his hand hard against the wound, the man taking a relieved breath as color flooded back into his face.

"Shit," The blonde breathed, looking down at his gut as Jak pulled away, eyeing the clean and unmarred skin surrounded by tattered and burned clothing. "You a Sage?" He balked.

Jak shook his head, standing back up and back over to the gently leaking hole in the tank so he could gather more of the green eco into his gloves and one of the gems on his hip. Torn helped the blonde to his feet.

"That was…impressive, Jak, good call." Torn praised and then turned to the man. "You alright, Jinx?"

"Yeah, I'll be fine." Jinx nodded, dusting ash from his burned shirt.

"Where's Ginger?" Sig asked with a concerned frown.

"He's fine, we went separate ways when we left the fortress, he headed back to Tess' place," Jinx rubbed the back of his neck, looking exhausted. "Torn was gonna pick me up, but I guess I paid a little too much bang for my buck." They all turned their heads toward the tower of smoke from the still smoldering building in the distance.

"Lesson learned." Torn said stiffly. "At least the blow we dealt the Baron will be worth it."

None of them believed him. The civilian casualties were going to weigh heavily on all of them. It was not meant to get this out of control.

'We should move.' Jak signed, bumping Sig's arm with his elbow.

"We'll split up and meet back at the Hideout, less likely to get caught or shot down that way." Torn took a peek around the tank, checking if the coast was clear. "Jak, you're with me."

Jak blinked. He looked up at Sig, who was looking down at him with a hint of concern, but a simple motion of Sig's head to follow Torn was all it took for Jak to move into step with the man. Jinx gave Jak a grateful pat on the back as he passed, Torn taking off along near the wall, Jak hot on his heels.

#shiaxart #jak and daxter #fanfiction #chapter five #Heir to Eco

3 notes · View notes

theshiaxartistwrites · 2 years ago

Text

Heir to Eco

Fandom: Jak and Daxter Rating: Mature Tw: Violence, Abuse, Torture AO3 Link

Chapter Four

Jak was slack jawed when they stepped through the hidden little door into the brightly lit shop. The metalhead skull was tucked into a bag on his hip, as requested by Sig to help keep a lower profile. Guns and armor lined every wall, table, and shelf that crowded the square room. While guns weren't really Jak's thing, the armor had him drooling and even he could appreciate the craftsmanship and work put into every piece.

The sound of a blaster warming up made Jak freeze, swiveling his head to look at the busty blonde that was staring down the gleaming red barrel of the most intense weapon Jak had ever seen at him.

"Easy tigress," Sig stepped between the barrel and Jak. "Shorty's with me."

"Sig!" She turned from terrifying to sweet as a button in a blink. "'Bout time you came 'round, gonna finally let me tune up that sticky hunk of blaster for ya?" She rested the gun on her hip, smiling and batting her eyes flirtatiously. Jak had to turn his head to stop from watching her chest, she was clearly not wearing any support and with the way her shirt was unbuttoned, Jak was halfway sure it was on purpose. Sig seemed unfazed.

"Ha. Ha. Not on your life," He replied humorlessly and shifted Peacemaker to his back before motioning to Jak. "We're here to get my 'partner' here better equipped. He's a pugilist."

"Oo! A fistfighter? In this day and age?" She seemed to ogle at Jak, looking him up and down with intrigue. "I'm guessing the knuckle bumps are your handiwork?" She motioned to the plates strapped to Jak's hands, giving Sig a taunting smirk.

"It was the best we could do in the moment." Sig huffed, crossing his arms defensively. "You gonna fix 'im up or not, Tess?"

"Well duh," She tossed her blaster onto the counter and stepped around to a door hidden behind a banner. "I'm always here to fix up my boys, can't have the Underground workin' with last year's gear, right?" She giggled, motioning Jak to follow her back. Jak looked to Sig, who motioned him onward.

"Go on, I'll be here." Sig turned away to go look at blaster attachments. Jak stepped around the counter and ducked under the banner, squinting at the bright white light and baby pink decorations. It was like whiplash, bright pink and floral decals next to metalhead skulls and weapon benches. There was even a rumbling forge in one corner that was painted a mix of pink and white to resemble a bunnydillo, but had bits of metalhead metal heating up inside it. It was the most effeminate garage of death Jak had ever seen. He swallowed hard.

"Don't look so spooked, sweetheart," Tess giggled at him. "I only bite if you ask real nice." She winked, walking over and standing across from him at one of the cleaner tables.

"Lemme see your hands, sugar." She motioned him closer. Jak stepped up, laying his hands on the tabletop. Tess unwrapped everything quickly, practically yanking it all off, though she stopped when Jak flinched and she saw blood.

"Oh!" She grimaced as she pulled away the bloodied bandages, the blood long since dried. "Ugh! I get the 'in the moment' now." She cursed under her breath, tossing the wraps and plates aside and stepping over to grab a white tool box from under a different table. She dropped it on the table and popped it open, medical supplies inside.

"You better believe I'm gonna give that man a piece of my mind!" She grabbed Jak's wrist and pulled him closer, ignoring the way he flinched and squirmed as she cleaned every bit of blood and dirt from his knuckles until all that was left was the raw wounds. Jak grit his teeth as she slathered a salve over the open cuts and then wrapped his hands tight and proper with clean white gauze. When she was finished she grabbed a tape measurer and took a few quick measurements from his fingers to his elbows.

"You're lookin' a little pale, sugar." Tess patted Jak's hair, the poor young man taking deep breaths to overcome how much more her manhandling had hurt than punching the metalhead grunt had. He could have sworn her grip was stronger than Sig's, which was honestly intimidating given that Sig had been able to pick him up like a ragdoll before.

"Sorry, sweetie, guess I got a little worked up," She gave him an apologetic look. "Lemme make it up to ya, Siggy said you're a melee fighter?"

Jak nodded, rubbing his knuckles gently with his thumb.

"You like to punch or kick more?"

'Little of both.' Jak signed, watching her blink in surprise.

"Oh. You're mute? Oh no," She put a hand to her cheek and Jak suddenly felt self conscious. "You gotta promise me you won't laugh, it's been a long time since I've had anyone who signs around."

Jak smiled at her and put a hand on his chest.

'I promise.'

"Alright, let's get you equipped then~" She turned, only for Jak to pat the table to get her attention again. He pulled the Spyder Gunner skull from his hip bag, setting it on the table and watching her eyes light up.

"Oh this'll be perfect!" She exclaimed, snagging the skull and strutting across the room toward the forge. Jak followed her, thinking about just how much Daxter would have drooled over such a gorgeous woman. He rolled his eyes and shook his head, a dull ache in his chest. He really hoped his little buddy was still alive.

It was almost three hours before Jak was finally freed from the back room, coming out to find Sig had found a couch in a corner to kick his feet up and take a nap on. Jak came over and knocked his new glove against Sig's boot with a soft clang.

"Hm?" Sig woke up and sat up, pivoting to put his feet down. "Damn kid, you clean up well." Sig blinked, standing up to get a better look at all Tess had done. She hadn't just made him armor, but changed his clothes and hair as well. His hair had been brushed and trimmed up to his shoulders and was held back with a new pair of zoomer goggles.

"Damn, she went all out, huh?" Sig scoffed. Tess had replaced his nasty brown jacket with a nicer indigo blue tunic with long sleeves and a mandarin collar. His pants had been traded for a nicer black pair that had a leather saddle patch to protect his inner thighs and several button-clasp pockets. She'd given him a heavy leather belt with what looked like holsters on either side.

Sig took a little walk around Jak to look at his armor next. All polished metalhead steel, he had curved Needle Fish skulls for pauldrons and a nice pentagonal chest plate that had been made from the Spyder Gunner skull. In place of boots, Jak's feet were wrapped with thick white canvas all the way up to his knees. A plate of metal was mounted across the top of his foot with two sharp little spikes that matched neatly to the two spikes on his metal knee pads, both plates held on with leather straps.

Then there were the gloves. Elbow length black gloves, with leather straps to keep the spiked elbow pad and forearm guard in place. The best part was the knuckle plate, with inch long curved spikes, like claws, on each knuckle. Sig tilted his head on the small, empty metalhead gems on the back of each plate.

"What are these for? Bling?" Sig scoffed.

"They're for channeling eco," Tess announced, stepping out from the back, wiping grease from her hands with a towel. "Our boy here is one hell of a conduit, figured I'd give him a way to actually store the stuff." She grinned. Sig just hummed, looking at the gems for a moment before patting Jak on the back.

"He looks great, Tess, wha' do I owe ya?"

"It's on the house," Tess waved him off. "As long as you promise you'll bring him back sometime." She winked at Jak, who turned his head away as his cheeks got hot. Sig snorted back a laugh.

"Long as you promise not to eat him alive." Sig put a hand on Jak's back to turn him towards the door.

"Mm, if I have to." Tess crossed her fingers behind her back playfully.

"Before you go." Tess called, the men stopping at the door. She grabbed two domed disks that had similarly empty gems as Jak's gloves. She walked them over to Jak and placed them in his hands.

"These will store one type of eco each, make sure you empty them completely before refilling them with any other eco, kay?"

Jak nodded enthusiastically, taking the eco containers and affixing them into the holsters on his hips. Tess admired her handiwork and waved to Jak as he was pushed outside by an impatient Sig.

"Well," Sig waited for the door to close. "A free upgrade and our smith likes you, that's never a bad thing."

'You sure?' Jak signed, rubbing the embarrassment out of his face.

"Don't sweat it kiddo, she's already got a partner, she's just like that with everyone."

Jak seemed skeptical, but followed Sig back to their zoomer with a large yawn and made his ears dip low enough to touch his shoulders.

"Ah," Sig seemed to have a realization. "Let's get back to Torn and the hideout, yeah? You look like you could use some rest."

'I'm fine.' Jak protested.

"Sorry kid, still can't understand ya." Sig said exaggeratingly, earning a snort of dissatisfaction from Jak, who signed something rude at him, though Sig pretended not to see.

"Come on," Sig climbed onto the zoomer and patted the seat behind him. "The city will still be here in the morning."

Jak snorted again, but climbed on behind him and held on tight. Part way through the ride, Jak found himself leaning heavily into Sig's back, exhaustion starting to seep into his every bone. How long had it actually been since he'd slept? In a real bed no less? Jak had been on either cracked concrete, cold steel, or a thin, hay-filled roll for the last two years. He could hear Sig's heartbeat. A slow thump, like the distant beat of Babak drums. The man felt so much warmer than the cold night air, his broad form shielding Jak from the crisp wind.

Surely he could close his eyes for just a minute and enjoy the ride.

#shiaxart #jak and daxter #fanfiction #chapter four #Heir to Eco

1 note · View note