2019-10-27 - So Two Robots Walk Into the Usual

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So Two Robots Walk Into the Usual

Summary: Stop us if you've heard this one...



Who: Lucy Lacemaker, Fazbear and Friends
When: October 28th, 2019
Where: The Usual Restaurant


Fazbear and Friends-icon.gifLucy Lacemaker-icon.gif

The information contained within this log is to be considered information gained Out of Character (OOC).
This information may not be used as In Character (IC) knowledge or in roleplay unless it has been learned in-game or permission has been granted by the parties involved.

Questions should be directed to staff.


The Usual Restaurant(#1836RV)
You walk into a very large restaurant with high ceilings that leave the rafters exposed. Fluorescent lamps hang from the ceiling, adding light to the floor and tables. Windows adorn the sides of the place, looking out onto the chaos that is Twisted. On some of the walls are paintings, photographs, and holograms of different movies, and a number of people who tend to visit the UR - caught as they're singing karaoke. The hardwood bar rests at the back of the restaurant, surface polished and shiny and all-together spotless (most of the time). Behind the bar are the various beverages that are serveed, and a giant mirror. There seem to be an inordinate amount of different drinks. A large stage rests in one of the corners of the restaurant, with an amazing sound system and a few microphones strung around it. Multiple round wooden tables are in the room, and a swing door leads into the kitchen. Another door leads to the dance club, and another to the gym. And of course, there's an exit. A large fireplace nestles in one of the walls, with a beautiful stone chimney that flows up and out. A long spiral staircase rests near the entrance to the kitchen, leading to a second-floor balcony that overlooks the UR itself. The lights up there are a bit dimmer than those down below.


Lucy Lacemaker bounds into the Usual, right up to the bar, and jumps up into a seat. "Tea, barkeepsie! Two lumps! Not sugar either, I want salt!"


Two figures enter the Usual with both practiced ease and an edge of questioning excitement. The first to lead the way is a very tall fuzzy purple rabbit whose ears are lightly dipped back. Despite the practiced entry, there is an expression of unsure familiarity at first. A worried thin facial expression defines this investigatory glancing around the inner establishment. Behind the rabbit follows what looks to be a fox. His the expression on his face isn't one of sheer disinterest, it is coated with a hefty amount of skepticism. Of the four that the two are part of, the fox is always the most skeptical and the hardest to fool.

"It looks the same. It even has the- I think. I mean..." The rabbit's ears suddenly lift and a great big smile forms on his face. "See?! I told you we'd find it." Before the fox can object, the bunny grabs him by the hand and dances around in a circle before yanking him along deeper inside. Stumbling after, the fox grumbles.

"I'm tellin' ya, bun. I don't think it be what ye think it be."

"Oh, don't be so sour just because I'm right this time. Ha ha ha ha."


Lucy Lacemaker soon enough gets her bizarrely salty tea, but as she's drinking it down, she hears the arrival of two rather noisy individuals. Turning in her chair to see what the hell's going on, she spots a pair of... well they sure ain't organic creatures. "Well what the fuck is all vis? Vey let fuckin' robots in this bar now? 'Ow do vey even drink?"


With a bit of effort the fox is able to yank his hand from the rabbit's grasp before he needs a hook on that one, too -- unfettered by this separation from the less than enthusiastic fox, the rabbit rushes along to check things out in detail. After all, they had all performed quite a lot in the Usual. Only...it wasn't exactly this one.

The fox flexes his exposed metal fingers to test them: yep, they all still work. Brushing off his arms and chest as if one had just been drug around through the dirt, this not-quite-biological vulpine has a good look around the restaurant. Noting the direction of certain interjection, he raises his right arm, lifts the patch covering his right eye with his hook, and peers at Lucy rather directly. The rabbit is far too distracted and happy to really notice anything is said, but the fox wrinkles his muzzle. He'd recall seeing somebody like that around before.

"So given yer attention t'me, what manner o'sailor ye be?"


Lucy Lacemaker tilts her head back and dumps the rest of her tea down her gullet, setting the glass down none-too-gently and wiping her fuzzy lips with the back of her arm. "'Aven't been a sailor in a long time, sah. Wha' I /am/ is a Kivouachian, by va name o' Lucy Lacemaker if ya fuckin' please. Currently, nursin' a bit o' a 'angover, 'ence the tea. Speakin' o' which, more tea, barkeep."


There's a pause after such introduction is made and the fox gestures with a point of his hook. "Definitely a sailor, or at least ye have a sailor's heart in ye." A footstep closer is taken as equally metallic and heavy feet clunk against the flooring. "Ye object, then, to be havin' another sailor around?" This may or may not have anything to do with being called 'robots'. The glow in the fox's eyes is not figurative.

Another cuppa come and gone, Lucy gripping at her head with the sound of those clunking feet. "I don't give a flyin' toodly fuck if yer a sailor or a robot or Father Christmas 'imself. Eiver take a seat or cut me fuckin' 'ead off so I don't 'ave to listen to vat bloody funder comin' from yer stumps."

The fox's jaw goes a little slack, perhaps in disbelief, before screwing up altogether with a lip crookedly exposing pointy teeth underneath. He lifts his left hand, a single finger raised, as if about to reply with something equally 'sailor-y' in response. "Bloody Marinara, ye be quite a b-"

Just then, the rabbit bounds over, notably mostly silent on his feet, and clings to the offended-looking fox interrupting him. "Hey, isn't this just great, Foxy? I told you, but you didn't believe me. You just don't want Chica to know that I'm the one that found it first, so now that we found one place we just have to find the other places, next. Pretty sure we can find our home -- hey, oh! You're making new friends already?"

Both fox and rabbit stare over at the poor hungover individual.


Lucy Lacemaker grumbles some more under her breath as the chatty bunny joins in the conversation, mumbling another order and downing another cup of tea before she speaks up. "'Oo va fuck are you two anyway? Couple o' clowns ordered by va owners? Vis place turnin' into vat one American establishment, fuckin'... what was it... 'ad vat bear an' 'is friends..."


Strangely, while the colorful language is clearly understood by the fox, the bunny doesn't seem to notice whatsoever. As the fox crosses his arms and looks relatively unimpressed with his eyepatch falling back into place, the rabbit is more than happy to take up the reigns of conversation.

"We're the fantastically spectacular and magically musical group ready to rock your ears and fire up your imagination after school and on weekdays," exclaims the rabbit. "No other band quite compares to the adventures we endure and our friendships so pure."

Without missing a beat, the fox adds, "So ye best be holdin' onto yer pirate hats and sodie pop while ye join us." Unlike the rabbit, his stare is simply suspicious and his voice lacks the passion that the rabbit has, at least in this moment. Nonetheless, he speaks his part, almost as if beholden. "Fun and treasure await ye-"

Both speak in tandem: "With Fazbear and Friends."


"Winnie va Pooh- oh." Lucy says, at first with the tone of one who has finally remembered something, then with a more disappointed tone as her head sinks down onto the bar. "Yeah, I guess vat works too. Makes more sense anyway, at least 'bear' is in the fuckin' name." Swiveling around on her seat, she focuses her red eye on the two, while the silvery white one rolls back in her head a bit. "So you're musicians, are ya? I like music. Kivouachians 'ave an 'istory o' musical appreciation goin' back billions o' years, long before vis universe was born. What you play, ven? Some kind o' kiddie pop I wager."


Foxy and Bonnie exchange looks from one another. The fox mouths the words 'who be Winnie' while the rabbit replies 'sounds like a cute little girl' and the fox silently retorts with 'but what about the poo'. This avenue isn't quite explored, though, as a more important topic crops up in conversation.

"Oh, is that a request?" fires off the bunny with a widening of his eyes. "We can have a sing-along to I Am a Pizza and-"

"Nay, bun. She be asking if we be playin' things a bit more heavy, I be thinking."

"Well...we do, yeah. I play lead guitar and Foxy here plays bass." One cue, Foxy puts his empty hands into position for holding his bass guitar and strums with that hooktip. It...makes a noise when he does. He plays a quick chord progression. The rabbit's ears perk up high at this and his grin widens.

"Ye have something in mind, do ye, lass?" Suspicious foxstare.


Lucy Lacemaker gives Foxy a strange look, as if unsure whether the tea's messing with her head. "Fuckin' 'ell, don't even need va instruments on 'and, do ya? I guess vat could come in... 'andy." she says with a dry chuckle. "Well since yer a pirate an' all, do ya know Barrett's Privateers? 'At should be modern enough for you."


As a somewhat serious and hushed aside, Bonnie, being a foot taller than his friend, turns to face the fox while his ears tip back a bit. "We don't have our instruments on us and the other two aren't here. We probably shouldn't put on a show without everybody." The rabbit looks genuinely worried and concerned. He even fidgets his thick fuzzy fingers together.

Reaching out with a hand -- his only hand -- the fox places it upon the rabbit's shoulder while visibly appearing to inhale and exhale in a short sigh. Yes, the noise is procured. "Relax, bun. Ye'll worry yeself bald, and a hare without any hair be naught but a silly sight. What she be asking-"

There's a brief pause, almost imperceptible, yet still there as the fox's speech is interrupted and a micro-twitch shudders through his form. Such a thing is easier to see due his current state and visual appearance as his inner workings also twitch, tense, and flex accordingly in that brief moment.

"-be a shanty. We needn't play. Acapella." The fox nods as if questioning understanding.


A pause longer, then the rabbit brightens. "Oh! Oh, okay. You go ahead."

Foxy turns just enough to lift an eyebrow at Lucy. He's a smug rogue.


Lucy Lacemaker grins as Foxy seems to understand what she's asking for. "See? Trust yer friend, 'e knows what 'e's doin'. So let's 'ear it ven, friend. Wow me wif yer vocal prowess." She sits and waits patiently, one leg crossed over the other and leaning back against the bar, eyes both focusing on the fox.


Foxy turns away from both Lucy and Bonnie and looks around the establishment. There's no need for a stage. After all, some things are best sung without the setup. Of course, it helps when you're on to buck the standards and the boss bear isn't there to stop you. Arms still crossed, the fox taps a foot against the floor, but not out of impatience. No, he's counting a beat, keeping rhythm. His eyes close. There's a moment of build up, perhaps as he simply does this for a moment.

The rabbit looks a little confused at the start, but when it's clear that his friend is focusing strongly on what it is, he watches with a bit of curiosity.

"I can remember it like it were yesterday, lass. Aye, the year be 1778.
How I wish I be in Sherbrooke now.
A letter o'marque came from the king
to the scummiest vessel I ever seen;
God damn them all."

So nonchalant in delivery, perhaps, but not something recited very often. Rather, having a moment to indulge really resonates with the fox and allows some of his questioning suspicion to slough away. Bonnie, on the other hand, seems to notice the choice of language only now and quietly tries to object with a nervous smile.

"Foxy, kids might be listening. Freddy would be angry."

Ignoring the rabbit, pointedly, the fox raises the sound of his voice. "I be told we'd cruise th' seas fer American gold.
We'd fire no guns,
shed no tears,
but I be a broken fox on a Halifax pier: the last o' Barret's privateers."

The fox stomps a metallic foot against the floor twice in measure before the start of the next verse rather than a simple tap. Now, Foxy's voice isn't the best compared to his bandmates, but it holds a certain presence to it that the others don't match. Perhaps it's the quirky nature of his accent or his inner speaker (he does use a speaker to talk, right?), but something is a bit forlorn in this presentation. Maybe he's not used to the spotlight. Maybe he needs some warming up.


Lucy Lacemaker chuckles at the small change to the lyrics, appropriate given that Foxy is... well, a fox. It seems her hangover's gone too, seeing as how she doesn't complain about the stomping either, simply enjoying the song as Foxy gets into it. Bonnie's protest just gets a dismissive wave though, as if to say he shouldn't worry since there are obviously no other patrons in at the moment.


"Oh, Elcid Barrett cried the town," continues the fox with a small nod and an opening eye that has a less-intense glow but a somewhat longing gaze as he stares off across the way. His companion hops in anyway, joining his singing in tandem for a line:
"How I wish I be in Sherbrooke now."
"How I wish I were in Sherbrooke now~oh!"

"For twenty brave men, all fishermen, who would be for him th' Antelope's crew-"

The rabbit raises his voice just a touch on the next line to overpower it with a slight change, "Gosh dang them all!"

"I be told we'd cruise th' seas fer American gold."
"We'd fire no guns,"
"shed no tears,"
"but I be a broken fox on a Halifax pier: the last o' Barret's privateers."

It's at this point that it becomes clear that this Foxy guy doesn't find his care worth a dam regarding what people might think about him singing along to a rather well-known modern sea-shanty. He moves his left hand to his face to peer underneath his flattened metal palm. "Aye, th' Antelope sloop be a sickening sight." He spreads his arms and again Bonnie joins. It's a silly match, the pair, but clearly friends to be able to tolerate one another, too.


As the two of them sing along together, it seems like Lucy has... fallen asleep. Well, to be fair, it's pretty late after all and her heard isn't pounding anymore. If the two animatronics want to talk to her more, they'll likely have to wait a while.


As it stands, though, the pair continue on like that for some time. It's not a fast shanty to sing and it's not short, either, which allows some measure of opening for participation of others see fit upon entry for drink or dining. A strange sight to see, perhaps, that fox and rabbit, but...then again, what isn't?



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