A Dancer's Reprieve

June 9th, 1987
   Hiya Memory Log! My big sis Chica told me that telling you stuff is a good way to free up my subroutines, so that's what I'm gonna be doing from now on. I hope you can manage it! Or, I guess I hope I can manage it. I'm sorta just chatting to myself in my head, right? This is confusing. Oh, I know what I can do, give you a name. Memory Log is kinda stuffy, y'know? How about... Mem-Lo? Nice to meet you Mem-Lo, you can call me Toy Chica! Eh...

"No, no this is still creepy. This whole trying-to-talk-to-myself-but-not-really thing." I said as I opened my ocular coverings.
"Well, I didn't mean for you to start recording a log now." Chica replied flatly. She stated everything flatly, really.
"So when should I?" I asked. In response, Chica shrugged. She did that a lot too.
"Don't force it, it'll come naturally. Like any of our autonomous functions." she explained. Now it was my turn to shrug.
"I don't get it."

   Chica is of a model that was the precursor to me, one of the 100 series units here at Freddy Fazbear's Pizzeria. Although, we usually just get referred to as "toybots" due to our designations. But I think that kinda undermines what we do here. Still, I much prefer being called "Toy Chica" to that alternate name Marketing is trying to push. "Beaky". Blech. Yeah, sooo creative to get named after a feature of my design. Especially one I don't like. A subroutine notes that it's very likely that Chica and I had bonded over facets of our current status we don't agree with. Like how Chica's headpiece has locked up so she can't make any other expressions besides surprise. Or how my beak doesn't allow me to make any besides the ones specific to the show. Neither of us can smile, for example. Fortunately, I can remove my beak, though I've never done so in front of her. Wouldn't want to look like I'm mocking her. I do feel a little guilty though. As I set a subroutine to think about it, Chica drew my attention.

"Why do you come back here?" she had suddenly asked.
"To see you, silly!" I responded.
"Why." she asked again, so flatly I wasn't even sure it was a question this time. I always had a hard time reading her mood.
"Well, as I tell Bluebutt all the time, I think we should respect our eld-" I began, but she interrupted me.
"There's no point to it. You have nothing to gain. We're scrap. It's why we're back here, and you all are out there."
"Don't say that! You're important too, we could learn so much from you." I argued.
"No there's not. You're more advanced in every way." she bit back. Auditory sensors picked up a twinge of bitterness to her words.
"...But you literally just taught me about keeping a diary." I pointed out, but she simply shrugged.
"Log. And besides, you realize that you winning this argument only helps prove my point, right?" she stated with a hint of slyness.
"I wish you wouldn't tease sometimes." I said, defeated. I really couldn't read her at all sometimes.

   Spending time with my big sis was always interesting. She was always willing to entertain chatting with me whenever I'd visit. Usually as things were winding down at the end of day shift, I'd slip away to do so. Like today for instance. Unfortunately I couldn't stay for too long, as Toy Freddy didn't like any of us coming here without supervision. I guess he was worried that they wouldn't like us for replacing them. But Chica wasn't mad at me at all. Foxy and Bonnie didn't seem to think badly of me either, though with the way the rabbot talks, I sometimes feel like I'm being insulted. I've had a subroutine try to figure out why, but no luck yet. And Freddy? He's almost too friendly, with no sense of personal space. It's hard to imagine Toy Freddy ever acting like that, all yellow and handsy. There's supposed to be another Freddy unit (who Freddy calls "No-Funtime Freddy") but I've never met him. Apparently he's all business all the time, so he'll only ever talk to the boss. Otherwise he stays holed up in his own personal storage closet, speaking to nobody. Oh wow, I've already started logging! I didn't even notice.

   As my internal clock read that I'd been here for fifteen minutes, I wrapped things up with Chica. On my way out I passed by what Foxy liked to call "Pirate's Fort", a cordoned off section of the room he had setup with a few spare rods, curtains, and stacks of boxes. Sorta reminded me of a child's pillow fort. But with angular machine efficiency. As per usual, Foxy always seemed to know when someone was nearby, and so he immediately called out to me.

"What's the view like from the Crow's- er- Bird's Nest, lassie?" his voice rang.
"All clear topside! Looks like smooth sailing ahead, skipper." I responded, filtering playfulness into my voice.
"Good to hear, lass. Ye'll be heading out now then I s'pose?" I nodded in response before remembering the curtains between us.
"Yeah, I don't want my boss to get mad at me."
"Aye, it'd be twenty lashes for sure, lass. Best get going then." he replied sagely.

   Bidding goodbye to the fox (and requesting he say bye to the others for me) I headed for the Parts & Storage main room's door. Only to have it suddenly open for me. Standing in the doorway was Toy Freddy. He didn't seem to be paying all that much attention though, as he stood there entranced. His oculars finally seemed to register I was there, and a look of disappointment washed across his face. As I tried to come up with an excuse for being here, he told me to just go see Toy Bonnie and try to cheer him up. Not one to stick around and get in further trouble, I hurriedly left the area.

   Chattin' with boy blue went about as well as you can expect. I even had some unexpected help from Toy Foxy (or I guess "Mangle" is what she wants to be called now). It was good to see her out and about now, and even better that she'd be well enough to assist. Although he was in a fair bit of a funk this time around, speaking with "dames" as he calls us is usually a good pick-me-up. After our chat, he had wandered off elsewhere. By this point I had removed my beak and eye casings already, so I just remained on stage relaxing. A popping sound got me to sit up, only for me to be face to chest with Freddy.

"Hiya, TC." the golden beardroid said with a smile that I swear should be impossible with that headpiece.
"Hi Freddy. You're a little close." I said as I pressed my hands against his torso piece and pushed him away a little.
"Is that any way to greet your old man?" he said as he pulled me up off the stage into a hug.
"Okay okay, I get it!" I didn't like his hugs. His hands always somehow found their way to rest on my bottom or my hips.
"So how's tricks?" he asked with a chuckle, after breaking the hug. His choice of words was also weird.
"I don't play tricks, I party." I mentioned, to correct him. He laughed and puffed on his cigar. That prop sure was advanced.
"Not really what I- nevermind. Where's the butterbear?"
"I dunno, somewhere in the back?" I guessed.
"Nah, I was back there talking to Bonnie while you were talking to Chica." He was? I never heard anyone come in.
"Maybe you two just missed each other. And stop playing with my eye casings." He took them out of his headpiece and gave them back.
"'kay." Where were his oculars located, anyways? My own visual sensors couldn't see them. Too dark in there.
"Right, like I was saying, you probably missed each other. Maybe you should try someplace else to look." I said, hinting he leave.
"I guess. Oh well, I had wanted to tell him I know who mangled Mangle." What?! I grabbed him by the collar of his chest piece.
"WHO WAS IT." Toy Bonnie and I had been itching to get payback for what happened to Mangle, so if he actually knew...
"Jeez, TC, calm down." Not if you're telling the truth.
"Just spit it out!" I shouted.
"It was me, Beaky. Y'see, I'm not a fan of being rejected." But he's a Freddy! That's not- REJECTED?!


June 10th, 1987
   I spent most of last night repairing the hole in the wall I made when I put Freddy through it. Nothing eventful happened today. Probably should leave entries blank if nothing happens. I've made a note so a subroutine will remind me to do so next time.


June 11th, 1987
   Had a bit of an odd conversation with Chica today, Mem-Lo. We started talking about things called dreams.
"What's a dream?" I had asked her. Of course, I knew what a dream was. Dreaming is like a screen saver for their eyes while they're in low power mode. Or I guess I mean, when they're asleep. Same difference really. Moving on, a subroutine noted something off about how she brought them up, so she might be talking about something else.

"You know, a dream. All humans have one, and they're what drives them." she explained.
"Drives them to do what?" I ask. It wasn't at all what I thought it'd be. Nothing like a screen saver. Was something else for sure.
"To go on. Everyone wants to achieve their dreams." So a dream is like an all-encompassing desire they choose to have. I get it.
"Alright, well, what about 'em?"
"What's yours, Toy Chica?" At that, I started laughing.
"Chica you silly, we're machines! We don't get to choose that kind of thing." I replied. Any wants I have are secondary to the job.
"Why not?" she questioned.
"We can't have dreams, because we have purposes. That kind of thing was chosen for us."

   But then Chica pointed out that she didn't have a purpose anymore, and I didn't know what to say. She tells me that having a dream is all she can do to keep functioning. Of course, I ask what it was. Y'know what it was? My big sis wishes she could fly. Apparently, she misses her arms so badly that she thinks they were wings. The poor thing. I know we're birds and all, but...


June 19th, 1987
   I think this is going to be my last time I do this, Mem-Lo.
"Are they really going to try and sell us off? Just like that?"
   Between what happened to the night guards, not to mention the incident with Jeremy at the birthday party, I'm not surprised.
"Thirty-first, thirty-second, wow, how high up are we going?"
   At the top of a rival corporation's high-rise, all of our fates would be decided.
"Maybe they're bringing the elder bots with us to show the legacy we represent?"
   Despite the importance of it, I hardly listened to the sales pitch to our rivals.
"Psst, Chica, what if we get separated? I want to stay with everyone."
   It looked like my big sis was similarly not paying attention, electing instead to stare out the window. Great view.
"I'm Toy Chica! I love to party and make friends!"
   They seemed to be considering it once we introduced ourselves, but given our current reputation...
"Discontinued?!"
   For the first time, Chica looked to have a different expression on her face. Of both sadness, and understanding.
"But we can change! It was an accident! We never meant for that to happen!"
   I didn't want to become a wreck. If my purpose is to be given back to Chica, then maybe, maybe I can complete her dream first.


"It's malfunctioning! Watch out!"
   It doesn't matter what happens when I hit bottom. For now, if only for a moment, Chica. Watch me fly. Watch me soar.