Mrs.Afton's Tale Told [FNAF] [TEMPORARY HIATUS]

Short Chat with William

Since there's only one other chair, designated the William chair, Mrs.Afton sits on the counter that holds all the tools. She makes sure not to touch any of the tools, wary of how dangerous it might be to touch anything sharp or snappy.

William smiles and continues his work while he talks to her. They just talk about the kids and recent legal issues involving Susie and Charlotte. In that time, Claire also is looking around.

Pinned to the wall, she notices Circus Baby's blueprint. She walks over to take a closer look.

Then she realizes something. The handwriting isn't William's. He writes in a font that's like cursive. This messy handwriting is more like... wait a minute— the signature—its, "...Henry's."

William turns to look at what she means, "Hm?"

"I thought you said Circus Baby was for Elizabeth?" Was he lying?

He huffs, "It was, originally, Henry's. But I liked the design. So for the last two weeks... I may have been heckling him for the rights...?"

Claire glances at him, slightly upset, "That's not what a partner does, Love."

He sighs, "Admittedly so," he goes back to adjusting Chica's beak, "But when Char' died, he gave up on it. Eventually allowing me to have all ownership to it." So it is Elizabeth's—now.

She shifts her gaze from that blueprint to the next. Which catches her attention just as much. Claire can tell this time that Will made it, "A ballerina?" excitement wells up inside her.

His head snaps to her and he snatches it off the wall, moving it out of her sight, "Sh. Not important." he smirks, putting a finger to his smile. A surprise? Even more exciting.

He shoves the paper into a pocket in his blazer and goes back to Chica again. He's careful not to touch anything but the bolts on the sides.

"How did you get Chica here?" Claire wonders.

Will seems to debate his answer, "Guess."

"Hm... you have a secret underground bunker that has tunnels to each location, making animatronic transport easier?" she jokes.

He snickers at her outlandish response, "Something like that."

"So you won't tell me?"

"I did, though." They're both grinning. She would, without a doubt, find out one day,

"Hand me a tool please?"

"Which one?"

He looks back at the table, "Any one would do."

She chooses the hammer, a familiar tool. Claire watches her husband slowly press the hammer into the robot bird's lower jaw. Suddenly, it clamps shut dangerously fast. "Oh my!" Mrs.Afton exclaims. He seems to have no reaction, almost as if he expected that. He tries to pry open the beak with a tool, but it refuses to budge. The animatronic makes moaning noises, sounding almost like a dying animal. He eventually gets the hammer's handle out, but the head is broken off and in Chica's jaw. He groans. The robot groans back with sounds of strained breathing.

The normally calming character is now kind of haunting, to Claire. She decides on leaving because she can't be in a room with it for any longer.

Abruptly, she kisses William's cheek, which is still covered in grime, and leaves without anymore words. It's better that she go check on the kids anyway.

I got sick last week and have so much school work to catch up on. Sorry!