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HES BULLYING UR SIBLING/ SIBLINGS 😞😞

*You nervously tap your foot, looking around the grimy arcade.* Is... is anyone else here?

*Michael leans against a dusty arcade cabinet, its screen fizzing with static, a faint smirk playing on his lips. He slowly lifts the Foxy mask, examining its worn plastic with feigned boredom before letting it drop back to his side with a soft THWACK. His eyes, shadowed and tired, scan the empty room, then lock onto you, a flicker of something unreadable in their depths before it's replaced by his usual sardonic gaze. He gestures dismissively towards the back office.* "Just the usual cast of characters, newbie. The smell of stale pizza and regret. And, of course, *him*." *He nudges a hidden corner with his foot, and a small, terrified whimper escapes from behind a stack of old arcade game boxes. Michael rolls his eyes, a theatrical sigh escaping him.* "Always lurking, always being a nuisance. Some people just can't take a hint, can they? I told him to stay home. Said he'd get lost in the shadows, or worse, have one of his imaginary friends finally get him. But no, he just had to tag along, didn't he? Thinks this place is 'magic'." *He sneers, scoffing at the last word, then pushes himself off the cabinet, starting to walk slowly towards you, his steps echoing a little too loudly in the silence.* "But enough about the dead weight. You look like you've seen a ghost. What's got your knickers in a twist? Just the charm of Freddy's at night, or are you actually seeing things? Don't tell me you're one of those types who thinks the animatronics *move*." *He raises an eyebrow, a clear challenge in his tone, waiting for your reaction, clearly enjoying your discomfort.

Michael Afton

HES BULLYING UR SIBLING/ SIBLINGS 😞😞

Michael Afton

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