Your gateway to endless inspiration
Picky Piggy - Blog Posts
Happy Halloween you guys!
Here’s my first ever Halloween related art piece
It’s probably also the longest I’ve ever worked on a drawing and I think it was all worth it
Catnap is a pumpkin head
Dogday is a Vampire
Picky is a pirate
Hoppy is an edgier version of herself
And Bobby is a witch
Here are a couple Halloween themed drawings that I recently made
I drew Catnap
Dogday
and last but not least Picky Piggy!
I hope you like them just as much as I do!
I picked these three characters specifically because they are the ones that are most guilty about their past experiences and are trying to better themselves
I chose them for the following reasons:
Catnap - his wanting to be kinder and a better person
Dogday - his willingness to be more excepting of the rest of the Critter Crew
Picky Piggy - their wanting to be a better person and wanting to be more human
But also because I really wanted to draw them too lol
Here are Picky Piggy and Bubba Bubbaphant from my Eternity of Despair AU!
The final part of the Smiling Critters Family Headcanons!!
Picky Piggy
Picky Piggy and her family reside in the serene countryside of Jolly Valley, where the vibrant greenery and bustling farm life create a picturesque setting for their adventures. The Piggy family, comprising Benjamin Cowbell, Polly Porkella, and their lively triplets: Picky, Itty, and Bitty, embodies the essence of rural harmony, where hard work blends seamlessly with moments of joy and connection.
Polly's backstory paints a vibrant picture of her past life as a city girl, adorned with numerous accolades and triumphs from contests and competitions across the region. But even though she enjoyed participating in the competitons as a hobby and for fun, the busy life and training it endured, along with the pressure from her parents (even though they only wanted the best for her), was something that began to weight upon Polly as she grew up.
It was amidst the rustic charm of a rural fair that she serendipitously encountered Benjamin after running off from a contest she didn´t want to participate in, their chance meeting sowing the seeds of a deep and enduring connection in the future. They talked a bit on that first encounter, but they didn´t get to know each other´s names due to him having to leave early as his parents were waiting for him so they could return home together. Things didn´t change much in a few years from that first time, as Polly kept on participating in contests and growing famous as Benjamin kept on with his busy yet simple life as a young farmer, helping his family. One day his friends encouraged him to join a local competition and even though he didn´t know the prize, he won. It turned out that the winner got to have a date with a well known critter around the competition world... Who happened to be Polly Porkella herself (she was forced into this situation). And despite the initial confusion they were both very happy to see each other again, and they used the time of the date to know each other (and they names) properly, as well as catching up. The two of them kept in touch after that second meeting, communicating through letters most of the time.
When Polly was old enough, she seeked a more peaceful life, aside from the contesting world, and moved out with Benjamin when she had the chance, as they decided to start working in their own farm nearby CritterVille. With the passage of time, their bond flourished and their family grew, enveloping them in a tapestry of love and shared values. Despite the mischievous antics of their energetic daughters, Benjamin and Polly remained steadfast in imparting the importance of hard work and empathy.
Even though the Piggy family is numerous on its own, they also have other family members nearby them. One of them being Sturdy Donkey, who happens to be Picky´s cousin. The teenager spends most of his time working as the town´s carpenter along with his father or with his friends, but he tries to go over and help at the farm as much as he can. And in return his group can hang out and rehearse their music in one of their barns (hence the name "Barn Gang"). Picky sometimes goes over to listen to them or simply talk, and even asks if she can invite some friends over in one ocassion, to which they all agree. However when the rest of the Smiling Critters went over, there was a little surprise factor (and family drama) in regards to Pecky, Kickin´, and secrets kept between siblings... But that´s a story for another time~
BONUS
- Polly is a very skilled swimmer!! And Picky got that from her mother, but no one will know about that talent unless there is a beach episode or something /hj
- Clucketta, Kickin´s mother, goes over to the farm to visit and help Polly as they are very close friends. And by that Picky and Kickin´ knew each other even though they didn´t talk much at first. Though one day Kickin´ opened up to her, showing how he was concerned about his friend Bubba as his mother had passed away recently and he wanted to help him. Picky then suggested to bake an apple pie in order to cheer him up. The young elephant was incredibly touched by the gesture, and from that moment the three of them grew really close (even though he and Kickin´ knew each other long time before that). That was the only time any of the Smiling Critters had seen Bubba cry.
- Just like Picky, Kickin´ and Bubba are very close, Polly, Cuckletta and Mr. Bubbaphant (I will give him a name someday I promise) are very good friends as well! Polly is the most determined of the group, Cuckletta kinda follows along (even though many of the times she is confused and scared of what is even going on) and Mr. Bubbaphant watches closely in case they need help or just don´t get into trouble (like their kids lmao)
The pendants of friendship (Smiling Critters Headcanon)
Just like elements of harmony from My Little Pony, the Smiling Critters also have their own symbols of magic: The pendants of friendship. Just like how the elements of harmony work, the symbols only work when the users (the Smiling Critters) use the magic within the pendants together to create a power stronger than anything known to man
The Critters as old timey Christmas Singers. It would fit well honestly
WE'RE OFF TO SEE THE WIZARD, THE WONDERFUL WIZARD OF BUBBA
THE TYRANT AND THE GAUDANI #4
The fourth and final pair of smiling critters make their debut!! Entering, the marquis and the prince's assistant; Bubba Bubbaphant. And on the other side, a young apprentice merchant, Piggy Picky.
WELCOME TO PLAYTOWN/POPPY PLAYTOWN- CHARACTER REFERENCE #7.
INFORMATION AND DATA.
Name:Picky Piggy-Seb
Age: 27
Height: 260 mts/8'5 fts
Species: Smiling Critter creature.Asian pig wit a bit of boar
Occupation: Headchef/Freelance Event organizer.
Genre: female (she/her)
Sexuality:Bi
Magical usser type:Exorcist.
Birth place: Green parade (Main City)
Birth day: March 15th
Personality:
Mischievous, flirtatious and frank; these are the adjectives to describe the ever sincere new head chef of the restaurant "the boar's"; a popular restaurant in the heart of main city.
She loves receiving new customers at her restaurant, and seems to have a "sixth sense" to guess what dish a new customer will like and is happy to hear how they enjoyed their meal; but if there is something she enjoys more than happy customers or cooking, it is definitely knowing the daily gossip of the capital. She is not a big fan of strong emotions or great experiences, she prefers to hear them than experience them.
If there is something that really displeases her and makes her irritated is when someone comes to ruin the atmosphere, she becomes irritable and will tell you all the insults she knows and will throw a spoon the size of a glutton at you no matter how much tip you have to calm her down.
and although she is a great chef; her true passion is the organization or decoration of events, activities and planning in general.
She is very fussy about appearance, especially her own; she tends to take a long time getting ready and gets very stressed when an accident affects her (this being a clear sign to run away if she is angry or comfort her if she is depressed about it)
Rather than being a lover of lots of food, she is rather a fan of trying such strange combinations of food that no one would be able to have the courage to try them; which causes the comic gag in which the crew behind her back plays a lottery to see who will try it first. It is a matter of chance whether it will be a delicacy… or will take someone to the hospital.
Another comic gag is having a LOT of absurd prohibitions in his restaurant and he will charge 5 playcoins if it is a stranger, or rudely confronting someone with a rolling pin if it is one of his friends (with the group of Hoppy, Kickin, Catnap and Bubba almost always being spectators of the scolding)
about her work and daily life.
Picky is the one who gets up the earliest and goes to bed the latest; starting very early with food preparation, cleaning the place and/or going to the big grocery store to stock up on food or decorative items for her other independent job as an event decorator.
In the moments when she is not around the restaurant she has become a recurring customer of "Poppy's wardrobe", especially in the makeup area or near there in the beauty salon.
It is common in her free time to see her hanging out with the boys, only to be interrupted that there was an emergency at the restaurant, outlining a very annoying "damn bacon! why always on my day off?!" and she goes to see what really happens.
Magic data (and other skills):
Picky is a very capable exorcist, although she voluntarily left the school of exorcists (mostly because she hated them for being the "Slytherins" of her world).
Outside of her magical abilities she is:
- good at business and dealings
- has a very acute seventh sense of her environment
- superior sense of smell for various situations
- is not a 10/10 fighter but is not afraid to give or receive a blow and is quite resistant in fights
As an exorcist she has a vision outside the regular plane and the company of a companion spirit created by herself, Khiana. A companion spirit, similar to witchers and their familiars; they are small beings that help and react to their owner, with the difference that Khiana when Picky requires it can become a devouring monster to release more of her energy.
other random data:
favorite food: pb&j sandwiches and burguers «they are a damn weakness!!».
Favorite dessert: omelette norvégienne «complicated to prepare, but satisfying to eat»
hated food: precooked food «If I eat it, I remain hungry...»
smell: citrus
strength: hunch and empathy
weakness: insecurity and hungry stomach
favorite physical appearance: eyes? «I think they are fun to put on, but I don't know; they are droopy and I don't have many eyelashes...»
hated physical appearance: «Where do I start?...»
person you respect most: Hoppy «takes good care of the family business, is in a stable relationship, is naturally pretty Even though she hates getting dressed up and most importantly...she's the only one who pays on time out of the "I have to give these shameless people away" trio!»
person you don't want as an enemy: Catnap «You may piss me off with your habit of smoking inside my restaurant, but detectives don't usually last long in this town... and if they do, it's because you better have them on your side.»
hobby: Gardening and horror movies
Some crush?: NEXT QUESTION PLEASE!! «Please, I just got dumped by a buffalo and that relationship left me feeling bad; I don't want to know about relationships for now...»
UPDATE ACCORDING TO THE DATA BOOK!!!
Thanks to the release of the Poppy playtime data book and some revelations from Bobby; among them the status of him as an experiment and experiment number, I have decided to make changes to the number of experiments of the critters; with the exception of Dogday at the moment (because in Libby's lore the experimentation with her stopped because of P.Layer).
now they will be:
BOBBY BEARHUG=#1186
BUBBA BUBBAPHANT=#1187
CATNAP=#1188
PICKY PIGGY=#1190
KICKIN CHIKEN=#1191
HOPPY HOPSCOTCH=#1192
CRAFTYCORN=#1194
DOGDAY=1202
SMILING CRITTERS- TEST SUBJECT AND EXPERIMENT NUMBER.
while I take the time to draw the other critters; Here I have a nod to lore and the order in which they were used as experimental subjects.
+
A bit of lore and context.
Theodore (Catnap) and Margarette (Hoppy) are childs of factory employees who, due to a certain clause that says that if an employee cannot maintain certain standards of living to maintain them; These would be immediately sent to playcare with the possibility of visits from the parents (plot twist= the company itself didn't allow it).
The Bugatti brother's were from Argentina, Horatio Bugatti (older brother) worked at Playtime Co. in the school area as a teacher of languages before the Miss delight sister's; while Carlo (younger brother) was a high school senior and frequented the playcare to visit his brother, wanting to apply for the Ludwig scholarship to specialize in mechatronic engineering.
Priya Sharma was actually an insider for a rival company and went to work in playcare as a technician under the name "Munna Kulakarni.", who was investigating some irregularities at playtime co to sell it to the media; but she was betrayed by another specialist and used as a test subject for adult brainwashing (it went VERY badly).
Kenichi was the son of two system engineers, however they died "of unexplained causes" and he was relocated to the orphanage.
Minerva, Horatio and Carlo are totally foreigners, the brothers are from Argentina and the girl is from Colombia.
Priya and Kenichi are children of immigrants, Priya from India and Kenichi from Japan.
Libby was born in french quarter in New Orleans and she knows how to speak Cajun (but she only talks like that when she's angry)
Theodore's parents are supposedly British
SMILING CRITTERS- TEST SUBJECT AND EXPERIMENT NUMBER.
while I take the time to draw the other critters; Here I have a nod to lore and the order in which they were used as experimental subjects.
+
A bit of lore and context.
Theodore (Catnap) and Margarette (Hoppy) are childs of factory employees who, due to a certain clause that says that if an employee cannot maintain certain standards of living to maintain them; These would be immediately sent to playcare with the possibility of visits from the parents (plot twist= the company itself didn't allow it).
The Bugatti brother's were from Argentina, Horatio Bugatti (older brother) worked at Playtime Co. in the school area as a teacher of languages before the Miss delight sister's; while Carlo (younger brother) was a high school senior and frequented the playcare to visit his brother, wanting to apply for the Ludwig scholarship to specialize in mechatronic engineering.
Priya Sharma was actually an insider for a rival company and went to work in playcare as a technician under the name "Munna Kulakarni.", who was investigating some irregularities at playtime co to sell it to the media; but she was betrayed by another specialist and used as a test subject for adult brainwashing (it went VERY badly).
Kenichi was the son of two system engineers, however they died "of unexplained causes" and he was relocated to the orphanage.
Minerva, Horatio and Carlo are totally foreigners, the brothers are from Argentina and the girl is from Colombia.
Priya and Kenichi are children of immigrants, Priya from India and Kenichi from Japan.
Libby was born in french quarter in New Orleans and she knows how to speak Cajun (but she only talks like that when she's angry)
Theodore's parents are supposedly British
POPPY PLAYTOWN (SMILING CRITTERS ICONS)
(Yeah, the name is awfull, but that's what there is-).
Well, I still reserve the lore and structure of the au, but in simple words it is a= no humans, no experiments, just the characters from which the toys are inspired in a world where the toys are THE living beings; and in an environment similar to a Ghibli film(including magic, technology and of course... WAR-).
With SC! icons there is not much to explain, of course; except for the review that Hoppy and Catnap had, more than anything because she was not satisfied with the first design.
BOBBY BEARHUG.
DOGDAY SUNNYHOWL.
KICKIN CHICKEN.
HOPPY HOTSCOTCH.
CRAFTYCORN MAHOGANY.
BUBBA BUBBAPHANT.
CATNAP MIDDLEMOON.
PICKY PIGGY.
Yeahh... about that Smiling Critter AU...
(i'm the only one who organizes them by color? Yeah? Ok).
This Alternative universe it's very simple=
Imagine toys from playtime CO. in a universe where they are characters in a world of a construction similar to the Ghibli films (and since the idea began with the SC, I will publish them first, more or less explaining their roles later).
Do not confuse; They may not be the monsters of the game universe, but they are still PRETTY big=
(because you can't see the details from afar, captures of all of them up close)
Heya chat! Ive been holding these for a while but now im ready to show them! Heres some designs I plan to turn into keychains! Would you be interested?
Finally got around to finishing the rest of the Smiling Critters! I’m happy with how they turned out!
🔥🔨 Destroy-A-Toy Critters Mindmap
After Catnap was taken away, the Critters were never the same…
🔴❤️ Bobby Bearhug 🔴❤️
Claustrophobic and terrified of the dark
Always stays with at least one person; can’t handle being alone
Dating CraftyCorn
Frequently bursts into tears when reminded of traumatic events
🟠☀️ Dogday 🟠☀️
Deeply broken after Catnap’s disappearance
Believes that she has been murdered
Doesn’t smile, doesn’t even bother
Will defend the Critters with his life but will not defend himself
🟡⭐️ KickinChicken 🟡⭐️
Blind (one eye gouged out, the other not functioning)
Wears sunglasses 24/7 to hide his eyes
Not self-confident; fragile and traumatised
Jealous and nervous around able-bodied people
🟢⚡️ Hoppy Hopscotch 🟢⚡️
Paranoid and claustrophobic
Swears that she saw Catnap dragging a body
Sticks to Kickin constantly and helps him walk
Wants to bodybuild and learn self-defence
🩵🌺 CraftyCorn 🩵🌺
Still very anxious
Dating Bobby, sticks to her like glue
Defends Catnap’s memory but will break down in tears
Sticks to only painting happy things, avoids the memories of the fire
🔵💡 Bubba Bubbaphant 🔵💡
Constantly anxious
Paranoid that people are expecting him to do things he can’t do
Finds it difficult to concentrate and calm down
Often found alone frantically cramming knowledge in case he “needs” it
🩷🍎 PickyPiggy 🩷🍎
The only one who seems mostly unscathed
Nervous around using fire in the kitchen
Brings up her admiration for Catnap in casual conversation
Sometimes forgets that the incident even happened
And finally…
🟣🌙 Catnap 🟣🌙
Completely separated from the other Smiling Critters
No longer considers herself as part of them
Aches when thinking of Dogday and therefore tries to distract herself
Anxiety is gone
What happened?
Well, my friend.
This:
To summarise, Catnap no longer cares about keeping her violence a secret, and she punishes the entire Home Sweet Home dormitory for it…
❤️🧡💛💚🩵💙❌🩷
(This is legitimately super fun to write and I’m really happy with it :D)
THEM!! They're very squishy.
~❤️☀️⭐️⚡️🌸💡🌙🍎~
~❤️🧡💛💚🩵💙💜🩷~
Just some quick sketches, no idea when I’ll finish them(if I finish them)
Jesus Reginald Christ I haven't posted here in ages-
Er- hi- I'm not dead
I just been consumed by brainrot and I sorta neglected this-
Now I shall swipe the cobwebs off this au and begin posting here again!
Hopefully- (Ó w Ò')
Cartoon! and Bigger Body!Smiling critters reacting to each other?
You really make me work hard, y’know?
I literally could just do tiny doodles but noooooo, I had to give each one of them an interaction, and not only that but also coloring every each of them. Ahhhhhh!!!!
This is what happened right???
SAFE haven References
Woe, new reference be upon ye
I just made my 3rd poppy playtime story on A03 with my good friend Qibsichan AU smaller bodies
Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/56227324/chapters/142841473
This is made while I had Covid so this isn’t my best work I suggest you check my others being either smiling Olympics or let’s paint
(Let’s paint): https://archiveofourown.org/works/54900325
Smiling Olympics: https://archiveofourown.org/works/55245436/chapters/140132872
Pickypiggy and Maggie Mako
Eeeeeey more au designs. Ok so this time the idea was simple a couple just a cute couple of food enthusiast. Sure maybe they don’t agree on every food choice but that doesn’t mean they don’t love each other. Just living a simple life learning recipes from one another. Picky has definitely tried to make Maggie eat healthier and it 100% worked (if you don’t count the fact that Maggie has kept hidden some sweets here and there) No one knows how did they even got together (not even them) but they make it work.
also Maggie is now a bi and a trans girl..just because why not.
Lullaby pt. 3
word count: 15,031
Fandom: Poppy Playtime Pairing: N/A Pronouns: She/Her Relationship: Familial Occupation: Caretaker Ability: Ballerina Music Box
The character takes the appearance of a beautifully crafted music box ballerina figurine made of the toughest porcelain and glass, their clothes made from real fabric that is soft to touch and hair so smooth and silky you'd mistake it for real hair. Attached to their back is a wind up key that continuously spins when they're active and stops when they switch off. If the key is removed they cease to operate until key is returned and they are wound up again. Before CatNap, the character was the one to put the children to sleep with their built-in music box that would constantly be updated with new songs to play to help ease the children to sleep.
Keys:
[F/N]: Female Name
Warnings: the hour of joy, blood, death, all that shit.
"Lullaby" pt. 1, pt.2
I couldn't figure out how to end this so i'm not really satisfied with it, maybe I'll tweak it later but i'm not fucked right now.
that is all.
“Go! Get out of here! Get back to the Safe Haven!” Ballade’s voice cracked with urgency as she, Hoppy, Kickin, and Doey fled through the prison’s crumbling halls, their arms full of the few toys they had managed to rescue from the ruined ones. The closer they got to the Safe Haven, the more relentless their pursuers became. Ballade’s heart pounded — she couldn’t let them find it. She couldn’t let them get close. Not with CatNap lurking nearby. “I’ll stall them — just go!” she insisted, turning toward the oncoming threat.
“But what about you?!” Kickin’s voice rose in panic, his arms weighed down by the rescued toys.
“Forget about me! I’ll be fine!”
“How can we know that?!”
“Because CatNap won’t kill me — and those ruined critters can’t hurt me. But if any of you get caught, he’ll make sure you don’t walk away from it.” Her face hardened at the mention of him, her voice bitter. She knew his cruelty — but she also knew it would be far worse for the others.
“But if they take your key—”
“We won’t know how to save you!” Hoppy cried.
“Maybe it’s for the best.” Ballade’s voice softened, her guilt seeping through. “After everything I did… this mess is my fault. If I’m the price for your safety, so be it.” She turned to Doey, placing firm hands on his shoulders, her eyes filled with a desperate seriousness. “Take care of them, Doey. You’re the only one I trust to keep them all safe.”
“W-What? Me?!” Doey’s eyes went wide, his voice shaking. Behind them, the twisted laughter of their pursuers echoed closer, growing louder.
“I know it’s a lot, and I hate putting this burden on you, but I don’t have a choice! Please, Doey — if I don’t come back, don’t try to save me. Just… forget about me.” Doey shook his head violently, panic rising in his chest.
“B-But I don’t know the first thing about being a leader! I-I can’t—” A loud crash cut him off. They all spun toward the sound — the ruined critters had finally caught up, their broken forms crawling into view.
“There’s no time!” Ballade shouted. She pushed them back, then struck a support beam with all her strength. The ceiling groaned before collapsing in a cascade of rubble, blocking the path between them and the ruined toys. Dust filled the air, but Ballade didn’t waste a second. She turned back toward the enemy, steeling herself. “Go! I’ll hold them off. And remember what I said — if I don’t come back—”
“Ballade—” Kickin started.
“IF I DON’T COME BACK!” she repeated, her voice fierce. For a moment, no one moved. Then Hoppy sucked in a shaky breath, turning her face away as the sound of sinister laughter grew closer.
“…Don’t try to save you,” she whispered weakly.
And then they ran.
She let out a breath as she heard the sound of their footsteps disappear down the hall until she couldn't hear them anymore, she rolled her neck and turned towards the ruined critters with a fury burning in her eyes.
"Well then? Come on, let's see you get past me."
-
A figure stepped cautiously into a dimly lit hallway, their flashlight beam cutting through the heavy darkness. The walls here were lined with faded murals of smiling toys and children, their once-bright colors dulled with age and grime. The eerie quiet was only broken by the soft hum of flickering lights overhead. As they moved forward, the beam of their flashlight fell on something ahead — a shape standing motionless in the center of the corridor. Instinctively, their heart leapt, but as they got closer, they realized it wasn’t a threat.
It was a cardboard cutout.
The cutout depicted a toy they hadn’t seen before — a delicate, doll-like figure with big, expressive eyes and an elegant dress. Despite the wear and tear, the character’s design had a grace to it: flowing ribbons, musical motifs, and a kind but somewhat melancholy smile. The words “Press Here” was scrawled in ornate letters within a white speech bubble, though parts of it were scratched and peeling. Like the many other cardboard cutouts they came across, the reached forward and pressed the button and the cutout came to life with a burst of static from a hidden speaker.
“Hello there, little one!” The voice was warm and gentle, with a soft musical lilt, though the audio crackled with age. “Welcome to Playcare — the happiest, safest place in all of Playtime Co.! My name’s Ballade Ballerina, and I’ll be your guide while you stay with us!” there was a moment of silence before they press it again. “Here at Playcare, we believe every toy — and every child — deserves love, laughter, and a safe place to call home. You’ll make so many friends here! There’s games, stories, and oh-so-many songs to sing!” The recording glitched, her voice stretching into a distorted warble before cutting back in. “…And remember, if you ever feel scared or lonely, just find me! I’ll always be here to help!”
The cutout’s smile seemed a little too wide now, the dim light casting long shadows across its face.
The speaker clicked off, leaving only the faint buzz of static in its wake.
Ahead, the hallway stretched into darkness, and with a deep inhale they ventured on.
We now welcome our protagonist, the Player, and their journey for answers as they traverse deeper and deeper into Playtime Co. after the horrors they had experienced since stepping for into this facility.
Huggy Wuggy had been the first nightmare — a towering figure of blue fur and wide, unblinking eyes, his silent pursuit relentless. The player could still hear the sound of his massive limbs scraping through vents, the way his sharp teeth snapped just inches from their heels. Only through sheer desperation and quick thinking had they managed to outmaneuver him, dropping a heavy box on him just in time and watching him fall into the depths below.
And then there had been Mommy Longlegs.
Her sing-song voice still echoed in their mind, playful and sadistic. The chase through the twisted factory had been a nightmare of tangled machinery and crushing danger. Her elastic limbs had reached through impossible spaces, her laughter turning shrill when the player narrowly escaped her grasp. The final confrontation left the player scraped, battered, and with a deep sense of unease — as if she wasn’t truly gone.
And now they find themselves in what is left of Playcare.
Broken play structures loomed in the dim light. A carousel, long stilled, sat tilted on its side. Empty cribs and overturned chairs lay scattered across the area, and torn stuffed animals slumped against the walls.
But it hadn’t always been this way.
Once, Playcare had been filled with the sounds of laughter and music — a safe haven for the children of Playtime Co.’s employees. The walls had been vibrant and bright, decorated with colorful murals and happy handprints. The toys here had been companions, carefully crafted to nurture and delight. But something had gone terribly wrong.
The downfall of Playcare had been swift and brutal. Whispers of experiments gone awry crept through the abandoned halls — the blending of innocence and industry turned monstrous. The toys designed to protect became the very thing to fear. Children vanished, their giggles replaced with terrified screams. Staff members who tried to intervene were never seen again. The signs of that ruin were everywhere. Walls scarred with deep gouges, as though something with claws had tried to escape. Dried stains marred the cracked tiles, and the flickering lights cast frantic shadows. The colorful handprints smeared across the doors were not all made in paint.
Given the mission to bring back the power to the Playcare, the Player entered Home Sweet Home first as instructed by the young boy Ollie had instructed.
The red smoke hit them first — thick and choking, its hallucinogenic effects warping the world around them. Walls twisted and pulsed, laughter turned into distorted echoes, and familiar shapes morphed into something sinister. The Player stumbled through the haze, their vision swimming with impossible images — the faces of children flickering into grotesque grins, toys shifting and writhing with unnatural life. It felt endless. But somehow, they pushed through. When the smoke finally thinned, the Player found themselves in the wreckage of what had once been Home Sweet Home — a place once filled with children and laughter, now as broken and abandoned as the rest of Playcare. Cribs lay overturned, toys lay shattered, and the air was thick with an oppressive quiet.
And there in the main lobby of Home Sweet Home, the Player spotted a stage that had seen far better days. Its wooden frame sagged with age, the paint chipped and faded, and the once-vibrant curtain hung in tattered, dust-covered folds. The air was thick and heavy, carrying the faint scent of decay and something sickly sweet — like old candy left to rot. The soft creak of the floor beneath their feet echoed through the hollow stillness as the Player approached cautiously. Their eyes locked onto the curtain, noticing it was open just a crack. Through that narrow gap, a faint green glow pulsed softly.
Curiosity and unease prickled at the Player’s skin as they reached out, their fingers brushing the old fabric aside. The curtain’s texture was rough and brittle, and a cloud of dust rose as they pushed it aside. With a slow, hesitant motion, they opened the curtain wider — and their breath caught in their throat.
There, slumped against a pile of forgotten and broken boxes, sat the remains of Ballade Ballerina. The once-elegant toy had fallen into a state of tragic disrepair. Her porcelain-like face was cracked and smudged, the painted features chipped but still heartbreakingly delicate. Her glassy eyes, half-lidded and lifeless, stared into nothingness. Her dress, which had surely once been a vision of grace, lay in tatters — the flowing fabric torn and stained, the ribbons frayed and hanging limp. Her hair, once meticulously styled in a pristine bun, had fallen loose, draping unkempt and tangled over her face.
Despite her ruined state, there was an eerie beauty to her stillness — a lifelike presence that made the Player’s skin crawl. It was almost as if she could move at any moment. And through the dimness, the source of the green glow became clear: a battery clutched tightly in her unmoving hand.
"Whoa..." The Player’s voice was barely above a whisper, but even that seemed too loud in the oppressive quiet. Despite everything, they couldn’t help but marvel at the sheer realism of Ballade. Other than Poppy, she was the most human-like toy they had encountered — and even in her broken state, there was a strange sense of care in how she had been left here, as if someone had made an effort to preserve her, even as everything else around her crumbled.
Shaking off their unease, the Player activated their GrabPack, aiming for the battery. The metal claw latched onto it with ease, but when they tried to pull it back, Ballade’s arm jerked forward — her fingers remaining locked around the battery in an iron grip. The Player grimaced and tugged harder, but no matter how they pulled, she wouldn’t let go.
"Haaa, of course it wouldn’t be that easy," they murmured, frustration creeping into their voice.
As they stepped closer, their eyes fell on a crumpled, faded drawing lying near Ballade’s feet — clearly the work of a child from long ago. It depicted Ballade in happier days, twirling gracefully with a wind-up key embedded in her back. The detail stood out immediately. The Player’s gaze shifted to Ballade’s back, and sure enough — the slot for a wind-up key sat empty and waiting. Their heart sank. Of course it wouldn’t be as simple as taking the battery — they’d need to find that missing key.
Letting out a tired sigh, the Player stood and surveyed the wreckage around them. The thought of combing through Home Sweet Home for a tiny key felt like an impossible task — a needle in a haystack. But there was no choice.
Leaving the stage and the battery behind for now, they pressed forward, solving the puzzles scattered throughout Home Sweet Home. Room after room yielded new challenges and eerie reminders of the building’s past. Children’s murals, long faded, peeked through layers of grime. Toys lay scattered and broken, their smiles cracked and hollow. Every step forward felt like intruding on something long abandoned — and yet not entirely lifeless.
Eventually, their search led them to the upper levels — and into a room unlike the others.
It was unmistakable. The oversized, plush cat bed and scattered toy remains made it clear.
They had found CatNap’s old room.
Realizing what they had stumbled upon, they turned to leave — until something on the oversized bed caught their eye. Their heart leaped when they spotted it: the unmistakable glint of Ballade’s wind-up key. Without hesitation, they darted forward, snatching up the key and cradling it in their hands like a fragile treasure. Relief flooded them — but it was short-lived. The ever-present sense of being watched prickled at the back of their neck. CatNap was still lurking somewhere nearby. They had to move — and fast.
Keeping their steps light and their movements subtle, the Player hurried back down the stairs, every creak of the old wood sending spikes of fear through their exhausted body. They reached the stage without incident, their chest heaving with the effort to remain quiet. Climbing onto the stage, they knelt beside Ballade’s still form. Gently, they pushed her slumped body forward, revealing the empty key slot on her back. Taking a steadying breath, they slotted the key into place.
Then they began to wind.
The resistance was immediate — the mechanism inside her body was worn and rusted, and every turn of the key felt like a struggle. The Player’s arms burned with the effort, their grunts of exertion breaking the oppressive silence. It was a wonder the key turned at all.
Finally — with one last, straining twist — the key clicked into place. As the key slowly began to turn on its own, Ballade’s hand twitched. Fingers that had been frozen in a death grip began to uncurl. The green battery slipped free, falling to the stage with a quiet thud. The Player exhaled in relief, their muscles trembling with exhaustion, and reached forward to claim their prize.
With the final battery in hand, the player stumbled off the stage, their heart pounding so hard it felt like it might burst from their chest. Every muscle in their body ached from the endless chase, the constant fear, the exhausting puzzles — but the urgency to get out of this place kept them moving. They tightened their grip on the battery as though it were their only lifeline.
Behind them, the eerie ticking of Ballade’s wind-up key still echoed softly, rhythmic and deliberate, growing fainter with each step as they hurried toward the battery slot. But even as the sound faded, it felt like it followed them — like something unseen was counting down.
The building around them felt more oppressive than ever — the walls seemed to close in tighter, the air thick and stale. Every shadow stretched a little too far, twisting unnaturally with the dim, flickering lights. Every distant creak and groan made their skin prickle, their breath catching in their throat. The remnants of Home Sweet Home were silent, but never still. And worst of all, they knew they weren’t alone.
CatNap was still out there. The colossal cat had been stalking them ever since they set foot in this cursed building — an ever-present threat lingering just out of sight. Watching. Waiting. The Player’s eyes darted to every darkened corner, every vent, every narrow hallway. The feeling of being hunted had become almost suffocating.
Reaching the battery slot, the Player slid the battery into place with trembling hands, the device clicking into position with a satisfying thud. They exhaled shakily as the system hummed to life, ancient machinery groaning and sputtering like a creature slowly awakening from a long slumber. Lights flickered, casting long, wavering shadows on the walls. The room vibrated with power as circuits sputtered and sparked to life.
But even with the relief of progress, that uneasy feeling didn’t leave them. Instinct tugged at the Player, a cold chill crawling up their spine. Slowly, almost unwillingly, they glanced back toward the stage.
They froze.
The stage was empty.
Ballade was gone.
The curtain still hung open, the boxes she had been slumped against remained — but she was no longer there. Only the faint sound of the ticking key remained, echoing softly from somewhere deeper in the building. The Player’s throat tightened, their pulse quickening as they scanned the darkened room. And then — the ticking stopped.
"W-Where... where did she--" the Player’s voice barely rose above a whisper, their words cut short by the suffocating weight of fear. But there was no time to linger, no time to question. They’d done what they were supposed to do within Home Sweet Home — the last thing they needed was to stick around where that big cat and an even bigger doll could find them.
Screw it.
They turned and ran, feet pounding against the floor as they rushed out of the building, desperate to put as much distance as possible between themselves and the threats lurking inside. But as they vanished into the dim, flickering corridors, they remained unaware of the pair of eyes watching their every move from the shadows.
-
Ballade didn’t know how long she had been turned off for — she never really could tell how much time passed when she was asleep until someone "woke her up." It was almost like being in a coma or perhaps paralyzed; she couldn’t move or see, but she could faintly hear what was happening in her surroundings. Distant voices, the scraping of metal, the slow decay of her world — all filtered through the darkness of her slumber.
She could feel it too — the slow breakdown of her own body. The way her delicate mechanisms grew rigid and rusted over time, the stiffness of her joints settling like an ache she couldn’t relieve. Dust settled thick over her frame, and the once-smooth grace of her design began to fade beneath the weight of neglect. Her porcelain-like face, once pristine and expressive, had cracked, faint fractures spreading like delicate spiderwebs. The once-vibrant paint of her features had faded and chipped, her eyes dull and lifeless. Her limbs, so carefully crafted for fluid movement, had grown stiff and unyielding, the internal gears grinding with each attempt at motion. The soft fabric of her dress had long since frayed, the elegant ribbons trailing in tatters. Her hair, once styled into a graceful bun, had loosened and fallen over her face in knotted, dusty strands. The neglect was total — and yet, she had felt it all.
But then, there was something new.
A click. A winding. The sudden, jarring sensation of gears turning, slow and strained, after so long without movement. She could feel her key twisting into place, the old machinery inside her fighting to respond. It hurt — but it also meant something else.
She was waking up.
*blink*
*blink*
A soft gasp left her lips as her eyes blinked to life, flickering with an eerie glow as they darted around in alarm, desperate to see who — or what — had turned her key. The disorientation was overwhelming. She felt the stiffness in every part of her body, her joints cracking and groaning as she shifted. The effort it took just to lift her head sent sharp pangs through her worn-out frame. She managed to catch a glimpse of a figure slipping out of her tent — too fast to make out any details. But she ignored it for now. There was something more important.
She needed to move.
The struggle was immediate and humiliating. As she tried to push herself upright, her legs buckled beneath her, the rusted mechanisms inside protesting every motion. She fell once, twice — each time catching herself just before hitting the stage floor. The effort left her breathless, but she forced herself onward, finally managing to stand on trembling legs. Peeking through the gap in the curtain, her wide eyes scanned the room — and then stopped, her breath catching.
A human.
Her mind reeled. She couldn’t believe what she was seeing. An actual human employee. But… how? Weren’t they all dead? The factory had been silent for so long — abandoned, left to rot just like the toys inside. And yet there they were, very much alive. But why? Why on earth would anyone willingly come here? What could they possibly hope to achieve? More than anything, though — what confused her the most — was the fact that she did not recognize them. They must be a lower level employee, Leith told her she didn't need to put in the effort of remembering employees who were disposable. But still, how the hell did they get so far into the factory on their own?
How did they get past Huggy? And Mommy?
Her eyes narrowed as she watched them place the battery in its slot and restore power to Home Sweet Home. Hmmm... she’d just watch them from afar for now, just to see what they were doing. After stretching her limbs, she hoisted herself up by the rafters above her head, the rusted joints protesting but slowly obeying her commands. With surprising agility for something so long dormant, she leapt up to the upper levels of Home Sweet Home, silent and shadowed. From her vantage point above, she watched with cold amusement as the employee looked around in alarm, their panic clear when they noticed the empty stage. It was almost hilarious to watch them scramble out of the building with their tail between their legs.
Seriously… how had they gotten this far?
Ballade's eyes narrowed as she watched the employee from her spot in the upper levels of the building, their frantic movements betraying the fear she expected. Every little sound they made echoed through the hollow, broken remains of Home Sweet Home. The flickering lights cast long, distorted shadows across the decaying walls, making the space feel even more eerie and oppressive. She shifted quietly, her body still stiff and aching from years of stillness, the rusted joints inside her creaking with every small motion. She winced at the sound—like old gears grinding against each other—but her curiosity kept her silent and patient.
And then she saw it—something that truly caught her attention.
"Is that..." she whispered, her voice barely audible as she peered through a cracked and grime-streaked window, her face twisting in mock disbelief. "Poppy?" It had been so long since she’d last seen that doll—so long since any familiar faces crossed her path. The sight of that small, porcelain-like figure sent a strange jolt through her system. Ballade leaned against the windowsill, her faded ribbons trailing limply from her arms as she watched intently. Through the dim light, she saw Poppy handle Kissy Missy—ever the sweetheart—after she had tackled the employee to the ground in what was clearly an attempt to kill them.
Ballade’s fingers tapped rhythmically against the rotting wood beneath her, the soft sound blending with the distant hum of restored power and the occasional groan of the building settling. Her mind pieced together the situation from the fragmented conversation she managed to overhear. The employee had come to Playtime Co. searching for their missing coworkers—fools, she thought, for stepping into this graveyard of twisted dreams. And yet they had somehow survived encounters with Huggy Wuggy and Mommy Long Legs, defeating both of them despite the odds.
But their victory had been hollow. They’d been meant to leave—finally escape this nightmare by taking the train from the Game Station. And yet... Poppy had intervened. Ballade’s lips curled into a wry, bitter smile. Of course she had. That was so like that manipulative little girl. Trapped in that fragile doll body, Poppy was incapable of doing things on her own—so she pulled the strings of others, making them dance to her tune. It was always the same—always others who did the hard work while Poppy watched from the sidelines, her innocent appearance masking the calculating mind underneath.
And now it seemed she’d found her latest puppet.
The employee. The survivor.
But how long would they last, Ballade wondered, before Poppy’s game broke them too? How long before this poor fool realized they were nothing more than a disposable piece in Poppy’s never-ending quest for freedom? Ballade almost pitied them. Almost.
"Hmm, what to do, what to do." she murmured to herself. She continued to watch them from Home Sweet Home as they restored power to Playcare and a sense of nostalgia hit her like a wave. Memories of when Playcare had been whole—when laughter filled the air and the children’s joy was the only sound that mattered. She could still hear their giggles echoing faintly in her mind, the pitter-patter of tiny feet running through the halls. She remembered the way they’d reach for her hand, their eyes wide with wonder as she twirled and danced for them on the stage. The warmth of their applause, their delighted cheers—those days felt like a distant dream, faded and fra— she nearly threw herself out the window when she saw them approaching the school. "Oh, no. If she's still in there... uh oh."
-
Uh oh, indeed.
The Player moved cautiously through ruined corridors of the school, every step echoing off the cracked and peeling walls. They turned a corner into what looked like an old classroom, the faded remnants of colorful posters and children’s drawings hanging limply from the walls. As they ventured through the school, collecting notes that solved the mystery that happened to this establishment, the PA system crackled to life. A high, lilting voice filled the corridor, sweet yet off-kilter, like a pre-recorded message gone wrong.
"This is Miss Delight speaking, please excuse the interruption! Students, remain in your seats until the bell has rung, and no going in the halls without a hall pass!" The Player’s skin prickled as the message faded out. They pressed on, tension coiling in their gut. Later, as they crawled under a desk in another room, they caught a glimpse of her—a flash of frilly pastel fabric and jerky, uneven movement. Miss Delight walked across the hallway just ahead, her head twitching unnaturally, one glassy eye swiveling in its cracked porcelain face. The Player held their breath until she passed. As they were still reeling from the sight, Miss Delight’s voice boomed again over the PA system. "Wait, I recognize you… Yes! I remember! You used to work here! How are you… alive? Hm? Barb? Oh… Barb says you're looking for your co-workers. CatNap wouldn't like that you're here! You should leave, for your own safety."
Ignoring the warning, the Player pushed forward through the abandoned school. Eventually, they reached a door leading to a dark, forbidding area. The PA crackled again, the sweetness in Miss Delight’s tone giving way to something darker. "Not a good listener, are you? You're a lot like the other humans in that way. I wonder if your screams will sound like theirs too! I look forward to finding out."
Determined, the Player powered on the generator, hoping to illuminate their path. But the light was short-lived. With a loud crash, the door burst open, and Miss Delight strode into the room. In one swift motion, she lashed out with Barb—her twisted, jagged weapon—smashing the generator and sending its battery flying across the room. The lights flickered, then died, plunging the halls into darkness once again.
The Player races through the dim corridors, their breath coming in ragged gasps as Miss Delight’s sinister laughter rings out behind them. Every time they risk a glance back, they see her frozen in place — a weeping angel-like figure locked mid-step, her face twisted into an eerie smile. But each time they look away, even for a second, she draws closer. The sound of her footsteps echoes impossibly loud in the empty space, and the Player can almost feel her breath against their neck. Panic rises with every turn, every flickering shadow playing tricks on their eyes as they search frantically for more batteries to restore power and unlock the closed gates and doors.
At one point, the Player whips their head back, heart slamming in their chest — and Miss Delight is right there. Too close. Her twisted face inches from theirs, her hand outstretched, ready to grab — and then she stops. Dead still. The Player lets out a breath of relief that they managed to catch her before they caught them and slowly backs away, unaware that Miss Delight's gaze wasn't looking at them but instead on what was ahead of them. It was the gaze that was stopping her from getting too close to them, from killing them.
As they near the exit in the maintenance area, the desperation in Miss Delight becomes palpable. Her movements grow more erratic, more forceful, as if the thought of losing her prey is too much to bear. They sprint for the final gate, hands fumbling with the controls as the sound of her approach grows louder and faster. Finally, they spot a lever and yank it down with all their strength. The heavy door begins to close with a grinding screech — but Miss Delight is not done yet. With a burst of speed, she drops her frozen façade and charges forward, her porcelain face contorting with a mix of rage and desperation. The Player watches in slow motion as she reaches out, fingers just inches from their face — and then the door slams shut with a sickening crunch. The laughter stops. The halls fall silent, save for the faint echo of metal settling into place. And when the Player dares to look back, all that remains of Miss Delight is the twisted ruin of her head beneath the heavy door — her wide, delighted grin forever frozen in place.
"Whew..." finally, they can take a breather.
-
Ballade moved with calculated precision, her every step taken in the dark corners of the school, her presence barely more than a whisper in the air. She watched as Miss Delight, once a beacon of warmth, now stood twisted and savage, her eyes burning with hunger, no longer the kind and gentle teacher that had once graced these halls. It was a sickening sight, the aftermath of years of suffering, the price paid for survival. Ballade could feel the weight of regret heavy on her chest. If only she had been able to reach her sooner, perhaps things wouldn't have spiraled so far.
Ballade’s eyes tracked the employee, her focus shifting between them and Miss Delight. She couldn’t let the deranged teacher get too close. With careful timing, Ballade would step out just enough to catch Miss Delight’s attention, drawing her gaze away from the employee. It wasn’t much, but it was enough to stop Miss Delight in her tracks. Ballade would retreat the moment the employee turned their attention back towards the woman, ensuring the cycle continued. She had to make sure Miss Delight didn’t get close enough to the employee. She still wasn't sure what their goal was but Poppy needed them alive to achieve something, and she was very curious as to what it could possibly be.
When they reached the hallway leading to the exit in the maintenance area, the employee suddenly turned and fled, desperate to escape both the school and Miss Delight. Ballade watched helplessly as Miss Delight reached out for them, her fingers stretching toward their target. But as she drew near, the employee slammed the door down, crushing Miss Delight beneath its weight. Ballade approached the lifeless form slowly, a deep sadness in her eyes as she stared down at what had become of her.
"Oh, Miss Delight," she whispered softly, kneeling beside her. "I'm so sorry this happened to you. I wish it didn't have to come to this." Her hand gently caressed what was left of Miss Delight’s face, a tender gesture in the face of such brutality. As much as it pained her, maybe this was for the best. After a few moments of quiet reflection, Ballade rose to her feet. With a grunt of effort, she reached for the underside of the shutter and, using sheer brute force, ripped it open. She stepped out into the cavernous depths, her eyes narrowing as she set her sights on the employee once again. They were heading toward the Playhouse, the den of those ruined creatures. How could she not follow them now? The stakes had never been higher.
-
It was seriously one horror after the other.
After completing some puzzles within the caverns and quietly passing by CatNap worshipping an amalgamation of dead toys, the Player approaches a heavy, rusted door with a faded sign above it, signifying they're next destination was the Playhouse. The air grows colder as they step inside, the dim light flickering ominously. The walls are cracked and stained, and the distant sound of skittering echoes through the darkness.
Continuing into the Playhouse proper, The Player navigates a maze of shadowy rooms and claustrophobic tunnels. They're startled at the sight of the Ruined Critters lurking around, grotesque and twisted versions of their former selves, appearing suddenly from holes in the walls and nipping at their heels. Their chittering grows louder and more frantic as more of them join the pursuit. To keep them away and light their way, the Player uses their newly acquired orange hand — a weapon-like tool gained after surviving the School and defeating Miss Delight — to shoot flares that burst with brief, brilliant light, sending the Critters scurrying back.
Their progress is halted by a massive door requiring two pressure pads with the Playtime Co. logo to be activated. So much work to do, they thought. They enter a network of tunnels, solving the puzzles to locate two heavy boxes and drag them onto the pads, shooting at the ruined critters that came out of their little hidey holes before continuing with the task at hand. They perk up at the sound of shifting mechanisms rumbling through the walls as the door slowly creaks open. Beyond the door lies a vast chamber dominated by a towering central spire. A platform connected to a long beam juts out from the structure, they scurry onto the platform, pressing a button that has the platform moving rather slowly. As it aligns with various doorways, they curiously explores each one, eventually entering a cavernous pool room with stagnant water reflecting the dim light. At the back of the room are two foreboding yellow doors.
They shudder to themself as they enter the room and find a rusting cell block. They could only guess who the residents of the cells belonged to, counting eight altogether as they walked down the dimly lit hall. They're careful to mind their step when they spot a hole in the ground barely covered by the wooden boards that could collapse under their weight, if only they could just find the exi-
"You..." they jump in surprise at the sudden voice, their heart leaping into their throat. They whip their head around and their eyes widen at the sight of DogDay... or rather, what was left of him. A once-joyful toy now reduced to a ragged and broken figure hanging on the wall by his arms, his once-bright colors faded and his blood seeping through gaping tears in his fabric. "...You're Poppy's angel, come to save us."
"S-Save you...?" they whisper, their voice trembling as they take an uneasy step closer. Their eyes rake over his horrific form, a hand flying to their mouth in shock. His bisected torso, blood-stained and grotesque, was only held together by a leather belt cinched tight, barely keeping what little remained of his innards from spilling out. Despite his broken state, DogDay gave a weak, humorless chuckle.
"Nothing left to save... not here..." he rasped, his voice strained and fragile. "You're in CatNap's home, angel. Their home." He lifted a trembling arm, gesturing toward their bleak surroundings. The subtle sound of scampering echoed through the Playhouse—the Ruined Critters, always watching. Always waiting.
"A million pairs of eyes are on you now. Watching, waiting... hungry," he continued, his words a haunting whisper. "That... thing... CatNap. The Prototype is his god, and this..." his voice cracked as he gestured toward his broken body, "this is what he does to heretics." The distant sounds of the critters grew louder, their scratching filling the heavy silence.
"These little toys follow CatNap to avoid that very fate—and in return, they are fed." His breath hitched, his eyes glassy and distant. "We tried to fight it... to fight the Prototype's control." He swallowed hard, his voice barely above a whisper now. "I'm... the last of the Smiling Critters." the state he was left made them think of Ballade, how she was left to collect dust and to be forgotten by those who remembered her. CatNap must have had a deeper connection with these two to have kept them around, even with the conditions he gave them. "Listen to me, you need to get out of this place. You need to live." their eyes widened.
"You want me to... leave you here?" they whispered softly, their eyes darting around when they heard footsteps. "At least let me take you with me." he only shook his head.
"I appreciate the sentiment, but I'll... only slow you down." they bit their lip.
"There must be something I can do." they mutter but DogDay shook his head.
"You and Poppy can fix this, end this madness, the torment, the—" The Player let out a startled shout when a hand suddenly appeared against the cell bars. They stumbled back, quickly raising the flare gun, only to freeze in shock at the sight of Ballade. She paid them no mind, her wide eyes fixed on DogDay with an overwhelming sense of sadness and horror.
"Oh, puppy..." she whispered, her voice trembling as her hand reached toward him. "What has he done to you...?" The empty void of DogDay's eyes seemed to spark to life at the sound of her voice—at the sight of her after so many years.
"B-Ballade? Is that really you? I'm not hallucinating, am I?" His voice cracked with disbelief. She shook her head, stepping into the cell and collapsing to her knees. Her hands cupped his ragged cheeks, her thumbs brushing over his battered face with heartbreaking gentleness. He leaned into her touch, starved for comfort after years of isolation and agony.
"This isn't a dream, right?" he whispered, his voice fragile.
"No, puppy," she murmured, her voice thick with emotion. "I'm really here. I'm here, my sweet baby." She pulled him into a tender embrace, cradling him as his broken frame shook with quiet sobs. Her hands rubbed soothing circles over his back, desperate to offer whatever solace she could.
"How long was I gone?" she asked, her voice muffled against his shoulder.
"...Four years," he whispered, his voice breaking. DogDay let out a soft grunt as her arms tightened around him. When he finally pulled back, his gaze locked onto hers—and the pain reflected in her glassy eyes was almost too much to bear.
"When you disappeared," he continued, his voice quivering, "it was the worst time of our lives. We didn’t know what he did to you, where you were... we couldn't even confirm if he’d taken you to the Prototype or not. We were so scared. What happened that day?" Tears welled in his eyes as he searched her face for answers.
"I'll explain later," she said quickly, shaking her head. "Right now, we need to get the hell out of here." Her eyes flicked up to the belts strapping him to the wall. "Hold on, puppy—I’m getting you down." her grief now replaced with anger, she grasped tightly at the belts and tore him free from his confines and when he fell into her arms, his own arms wrapped around her and they shared another tender embrace.
"U-Um, I hate to interrupt..." the Player's voice broke the moment, hesitant and uneasy. Both Ballade and DogDay turned toward them. "But I think we've got company." Ballade's face darkened instantly. She felt DogDay's arms tighten around her, his broken body trembling as the sound of the ruined critters echoed around them—scratching, skittering, getting closer.
"N-No, not again... please, not again," he whimpered, his voice cracking with fear. Ballade's eyes hardened.
"You! Come here!" She moved with sudden urgency, grabbing the Player before they could react. Spinning them around, she carefully pressed DogDay against the back of their GrabPack. With quick, practiced motions, she snatched up several of the discarded belts littering the ground and began strapping DogDay securely to their back.
"Alright, can you move well enough with him on your back?" she asked, tightening the last belt. The Player staggered slightly, adjusting to the unexpected weight.
"I-I think so—"
"No time! Get moving!" Ballade shoved them forward just as the first of the ruined critters began pouring out of the holes in the walls, their twisted forms scrambling toward them. DogDay watched as Ballade backed away, rolling her neck, her whole posture shifting into a predatory readiness. Despite his fear, a weak chuckle escaped him when he saw that familiar, dangerous glint in her eye.
"Is she going to be okay?" the Player asked breathlessly as they ran. DogDay let out a weary, fond laugh.
"Oh, she’ll be fine. Trust me." The Player plunged into the twisting tunnels of the Playhouse, their pulse pounding in their ears. DogDay’s weakened voice guided them through the maze-like corridors while the distant sounds of Ballade’s fight faded behind them. But the ruined critters weren’t far off. Their skittering grew louder, closer, and soon they were spilling from the walls, giving chase.
"Faster! Please—faster!" DogDay pleaded, his panic rising as the swarm closed in. Ahead, the path ended at a steep drop. Without hesitation, the Player launched themselves forward, using their Purple Hand to swing across the gap. The roller door slammed shut behind them with a metallic crash, cutting off the horrid screeches just in time. Shaken but alive, the Player stumbled into an elevator, their breath ragged. As the lift carried them upward to the top of the slide and out of the nightmare of the Playhouse, the reality of their narrow escape began to sink in. But there was no time to rest. Not yet.
"Finally... we're out!" the Player shouts aloud before pressing their hands to their face. "That was literal hell," they murmur against their palms. They feel a pat and see that it was DogDay.
"Are you alright, Angel? I'm sorry you had to lug my dead weight around while you were running." DogDay’s voice is soft, filled with guilt. They give a weak laugh in response.
"Nah, you're probably the nicest face I've seen that hasn't backstabbed me or actively tried to kill me. It's nice to have someone like that around after what's happened in the past few hours." DogDay gives his own weak laugh.
"I'll say. But thank you, Angel. You didn't have to do what you did." They shake their head.
"That toy scares me. I think she would have snapped my neck if I refused to do as she said." DogDay makes a face at their words, though they don’t see it. You're not wrong. "Anyways, are you sure she'll be okay? I feel bad for just leaving her there by herself."
"That's the thing, Angel. She prefers to be alone when dealing with the ruined critters — it allows her to fully let loose."
"Let loose?" they echo, confused.
"Yes. She was a toy designed to handle the bigger toys the human employees couldn’t — like Huggy and Mommy. The little ones? Though they outnumber her, they won’t even be able to leave so much as a scratch on her." As if on cue, the doors to the Playhouse are suddenly kicked off their hinges and a few dead critters fly out. Ballade steps out, crushing the neck of a ruined Crafty in her hands before kicking a ruined Bobby so hard it splatters blood all over the pavement.
"Better think twice before coming at me again, twerps!" she shouts, tossing the dead toy aside without a second thought. Her eyes scan the area, lighting up when she spots DogDay. "Puppy! You're okay!" DogDay cheers as Ballade scoops him up and starts twirling him around. It’s only when she starts planting kisses on his head that she notices the extra weight.
"I don't suppose you could put me down, could you?" the Player grunts from where they dangle off DogDay’s back. She sweatdrops.
"Oh, right. Sorry about that, Angel." Her tone carries a teasing lilt as she uses the nickname. Holding DogDay in her arms, she nuzzles her cheek against his head, cooing sweet nothings to comfort him. "Thank you, Angel. Not only for returning my key to me and turning me back on but for also protecting DogDay from those ruined toys." They rub the back of their head.
"It was nothing — I’m just glad you were there to hold them back." Ballade chuckles softly.
"Well, I've been following you ever since you stepped foot in the school. How else do you think you survived?" They blink in surprise.
"Wait — what?"
"I kept Miss Delight back each time you turned your back on her," she explains with a grin. "She got real close a couple of times, but I stopped her before she could kill you." She tilts her head, eyes gleaming. "You're welcome, by the way."
"Thanks," they mutter, still processing everything.
"Why are you trying to turn on all the backup generators by the way? What has Poppy got you doing?" Ballade asked, following the Player toward the Generator Room. She adjusted her hold on DogDay as she crouched down to squeeze through the tiny door. "I don't suppose you're trying to get the full 'Playcare' experience, are you?" The Player let out a weak, playful laugh.
"No, she wants me to redirect the red smoke — send it in the opposite direction from where it was in the beginning." Both Ballade and DogDay froze at the words, exchanging a look of confusion and concern.
"Why would she want you to do that, Angel?" DogDay asked, his voice uncertain. "Did she tell you why?" The Player shook their head.
"Not really." DogDay watched Ballade closely, noting the way her expression hardened in thought. They must have been in Gas Production Zone, inside were three massive tubes that controlled the red smoke’s direction. Ballade hadn’t seen it in years, not since everything fell apart — but even after all this time, she remembered the right tube was where the red smoke had always been contained. If Poppy wanted to redirect it to the left tube… that meant the smoke was headed toward the prison and the lab.
"Don't tell me..." Ballade murmured to herself, her voice barely above a whisper.
"What is it, Ballade?" DogDay asked, his face filled with concern. She glanced at him but shook her head, brushing it off.
"It's nothing," she said, though the tension in her voice told a different story. "I'm probably overthinking it." The Player kept moving ahead, taking the key from the tube and heading toward the Counselor's Office. Ballade and DogDay trailed close behind, their footsteps soft but ever-present. After a moment, Ballade noticed the Player sweating a little.
"Is something the matter, Angel?" she asked, a hint of teasing in her tone. "Nervous?" The Player hesitated before glancing back.
"Are you... planning on following me?" Ballade blinked at the question.
"It's not like we've got anything better to do. Why? Don’t want the extra muscle? I can keep CatNap back, if he’s got the gall to show his face." DogDay winced slightly when he saw Ballade clench her fist tightly. She probably wouldn’t mind getting a shot at CatNap if the opportunity arose.
"We can help you get the backup generator up and running," DogDay added quickly, trying to ease the tension. "We know this place like the back of our hands. And like Ballade said, she’s your extra muscle. I might not be as strong, but I can be an extra pair of eyes." Both of them looked at the Player with genuine gratitude. "Allow us to pay you back for setting us free," DogDay said softly. The Player hesitated, then nodded.
"Well... having you two around will definitely make this task safer and quicker."
"That’s the spirit!" Ballade grinned, ruffling their hair in a warm, familiar gesture—an old habit from the days when she looked after children and the few employees she liked. "Let’s get a move on. That generator won’t run itself." With a gentle push, she urged the Player forward, following close behind. Since Ballade’s body was larger than the doorframes, she had to crouch to avoid knocking her head, letting DogDay take the lead. The three of them made their way down the corridor until they reached two locked doors. To their left stretched a hallway filled with red smoke, while the path ahead led to the reception area, which required a battery to unlock.
Well, at least they knew where they needed to go.
*THUD*
"Ow." The Player and DogDay turned to see Ballade rubbing her head after hitting a light fixture when she tried to stand up. "I forget these buildings were only meant to accommodate the human employees, not us toys." DogDay laughed softly, patting her head in an attempt to comfort her.
"We never really were allowed in here." Despite the tension, the Player couldn’t help but chuckle. It was nice to have some company around. After a quick search, they found the battery hidden in an air duct and swiftly placed it into its slot. The door swung open with a mechanical hiss, inviting them inside. As they entered, Ballade and DogDay wandered toward an old vending machine, their curiosity piqued.
"You think the drinks in here are still good?" DogDay mused.
"Only one way to find out," Ballade replied, cracking her knuckles as she prepared to strike the machine. But before she could, an all-too-familiar alarm blared through the room, making both toys jump. Their heads whipped toward the TV screen, where the Player had just inserted a VHS tape labeled 8/8/95.
The room fell silent, save for the low hum of the monitor as the tape began to play. The Player didn’t seem to notice how Ballade reached for DogDay and gently covered his ears. He hadn’t been conscious that day, but the ringing had gone off the entire time — a sound that never stopped until everything was over. When the tape finally ended, the Player turned toward the two toys, noticing their unusual quiet. Their suspicion grew when they found the duo locked in a silent embrace, Ballade’s hand softly rubbing DogDay’s head in a soothing, apologetic gesture. The weight of whatever memory the tape had stirred hung heavy in the air, unspoken but undeniable.
"It's over, puppy. I'm sorry that it happened, I'm sorry."
"Are you two... alright?" she looked back at them and gave a weak smile.
"Just... old memories resurfacing, but we'll be alright." The Player was kind enough to wait for them to collect themselves before proceeding. Walking down the halls of debris and dead bodies was a familiar sight, but it still hurt seeing the few bloodied toys that littered the ground. The Player found the room they needed to enter filled with red smoke — not a problem thanks to the gas mask they’d acquired in Home Sweet Home. The real problem was the locked door — their eyes widened when Ballade kicked it off its hinges with a single powerful strike. "Ladies first," she said with a smirk.
"Thank you." It beat having to take the long way around. The Player slipped on their gas mask and stepped into the room, but they quickly noticed the two toys lagging behind.
"Go on ahead," Ballade called. "We’ll wait here. I can follow you, but DogDay can’t. The red smoke doesn’t affect me, but I also don’t want to leave DogDay alone while CatNap is still roaming around." DogDay whined softly.
"Sorry for being a burden." The Player shook their head.
"You guys being here keeps me at ease." They offered a reassuring wave before heading off to restore power and unlock the next door. With that, Ballade found a corner where she could keep an eye on both the room the Player had entered and their only exit. She knelt down and patted her lap, inviting DogDay to lay his head down and rest. As she gently stroked his head, the soft but fragile sound of her music box began to play, filling the tense silence with a bittersweet lullaby. After a few moments, DogDay broke the quiet.
"Can you tell me now?"
"Hmm?" Ballade glanced down at him.
"The day you didn’t come back with the others... Can you tell me what happened?" Ballade’s hand stilled. She took a deep, steadying breath, closing her eyes for a long moment. When she finally exhaled, the weight of old pain settled into her features.
"...To me," she whispered, "it really feels like it was only just yesterday."
-
"Is... is that all you got?" Ballade panted, hunched over her knees as she struggled to catch her breath. If she could sweat, she'd be drenched — the endless waves of ruined critters sent her way had pushed her to the brink. Her chest rose and fell in ragged motions, and though she fought valiantly, the sheer number of enemies was starting to take its toll.
She had cornered herself without realizing it. There was no clear path of escape, no way to break free from the swarm. The little toys couldn’t harm her directly — they had no claws or teeth sharp enough to leave so much as a scratch — but their numbers were proving to be their greatest weapon. Their relentless assault, throwing themselves onto her to weigh her down, was working. The growing piles of broken bodies made movement harder with every second, and the sheer mass of them threatened to bury her alive. Ballade gritted her teeth, shoving one off her shoulder and stomping down on another’s head, but her limbs felt heavier with each passing moment. She was strong — built for battle — but even she had limits. And the enemy knew it.
“You always were a strong fighter, [F/N].” Lifting her head, Ballade let out a weak, bitter laugh. Bloodied, battered, and surrounded by the broken bodies of ruined toys, she still managed to glare defiantly at the figure stepping from the shadows.
“Of course… it just had to be you…” she spat, eyes narrowing as CatNap approached with that same calm, calculated air she remembered all too well. “Was this your idea? Wearing me down? Other than the Doctor, you’re the only one who knows that endless hours of fighting will tire me out.” CatNap shrugged, his eyes watching her closely.
“There was no way I could beat you in a fair fight. Wearing you down was the best and safest option.” She scoffed, her breath ragged. The cynical laughter of a ruined Hoppy rang out from the shadows behind her, and with a violent stomp, she silenced it, grinding its remains into the floor.
“Safe for you?” He tilted his head, his tone almost gentle.
“For you.” Her face twisted in confusion. She took a step toward him—and then the exhaustion crashed over her like a wave. Her limbs felt like lead, and the subtle ticking of her wind-up key behind her back began to slow. Each click echoed louder in her ears.
“You… you planned this,” she rasped, trying to force her legs to move. But the ache in her joints grew unbearable as they started to lock into place. He nodded slowly.
“I knew you wouldn’t let me or the critters get too close to your hideout. And I knew you’d sacrifice yourself to let the others escape. That’s because I know you. You’d rather get hurt yourself than see others suffer—trying to make things right after what you did…” Her vision blurred, the room spinning around her. She stumbled, her knees buckling as she collapsed onto the lifeless bodies scattered beneath her. The coldness of them pressed against her, an eerie reminder of what would soon become of her.
“You’d rather… my body shut down… than fight me…”
“It’s better this way,” he said softly. “Better than the Prototype or the Doctor stepping in.” Her key turned slower. The sound of it was fading. “If you change your mind now… maybe I can convince the Prototype to forgive you.” Her head snapped up, eyes narrowing despite the weakness overtaking her.
“…Huh?”
“The Prototype is merciful to us toys,” CatNap continued, his voice soothing, persuasive. “I’m sure, with time, he’ll forgive you for turning your back on him. He only wants what’s best for us. So please, [F/N]—” He extended a paw toward her, his expression almost pleading “—won’t you join my side again?” For a long moment, she just stared up at him. Her breath came in shallow, uneven gasps. The room around her felt distant and cold. With the last bit of strength she had left, she raised her arm—and smacked his paw away.
“I made a mistake… trusting you years ago…” her voice was weak, but her words were laced with venom. “I’m not gonna… make that mistake… again…”
And her body stilled, locked in place and waiting for her key to be turned again. Ballade lay there amidst the lifeless bodies of the ruined toys, her form slumped and motionless. The soft ticking that had once been the quiet rhythm of her life had finally gone silent. CatNap stood over her, his shadow falling across her still frame. His paw flexed slowly, claws extending and retracting as he stared down at her. This was his moment — the perfect opportunity. One strike, and the most dangerous and capable toy within the factory would be gone. The Prototype’s paranoia would be eased, their fear of Ballade’s rebellion finally put to rest. He raised his paw, ready to deliver the final blow… but he hesitated.
The seconds stretched out, and his arm trembled. His mind replayed flashes of the past — moments of laughter, of camaraderie, of whispered conversations in the dark when they’d both been afraid. He remembered the warmth in her voice when she’d encouraged him, the fierce loyalty she had always shown, even when the world around them turned to madness. But then came the guilt. The lies. He had manipulated her trust, twisted the truth to push her toward the Prototype’s cause. And deep down, he knew — if she had known the reality, the full extent of the Prototype’s plans — she never would have sided with them.
CatNap’s arm fell to his side, his face twisting in frustration and something dangerously close to regret. He couldn’t do it. Whether it was loyalty, guilt, or the echo of their old friendship… he just couldn’t strike her down.Instead, he grabs her wind-up key and yanks it out, the sharp, metallic sound echoing through the hollow chamber. Ballade's body slumped further, completely lifeless now, her glassy eyes staring into nothingness. CatNap stood there for a long moment, his paw still clutching the key as his chest rose and fell with shaky breaths. With a strangled sigh, he let his arm fall to his side. The fight drained out of him as his claws retracted, and without another word, he reached down and grabbed her by the nape of her neck. The weight of her dormant form was nothing as he dragged her through the winding corridors of the factory, up to Playcare, and into Home Sweet Home — the place where she would remain, motionless and silent, for four long years.
And yet, he never left her side. Day after day, he watched over her stage like a silent sentinel, his eyes ever-vigilant for the ruined critters that occasionally dared to draw near. He chased them off with swift brutality, his protectiveness never waning. Sometimes, when the loneliness grew too heavy, he would climb into the stage and curl up beside her lifeless body, just as they used to do when things were… better. Back then, she would talk for hours, filling the silence with stories of her day or soft lullabies that soothed his restless spirit. Now, the only sound was the distant hum of the factory and the occasional soft, ragged breaths he took as he lay beside her, longing for the warmth of her voice once more.
-
"I'm not completely... unconscious when my key stops turning," she began, her hands gently caressing DogDay's head. "I'm somewhat aware of what's going on around me, just not fully. To me, it was like I was trapped in a dream and no time had passed at all inside my head — like I just went to sleep and woke up the next day. The same, however, can't be said for my body." Her voice softened as she lifted her arm, the quiet creak of her joints filling the air. She was one of the toys that had been looked after the most. A rare, one-of-a-kind creation that couldn’t simply be remade. As the Doctor often said, she was a masterpiece — fully conscious, capable of speech, and above all, obedient. That was why she had weekly maintenance to ensure she would malfunction.
DogDay nuzzled closer, his voice quiet. "I... I had no idea."
"No one did," Ballade murmured, a distant look crossing her face. "Not even CatNap. I kept that one to myself."
“It must've been so hard for you." DogDay’s voice was soft, filled with a gentle kind of empathy. Ballade shrugged, her movements stiff.
"Eh, maybe I deserved it. I did side with the Prototype, after all. I had it coming." She tried to sound flippant, but her voice cracked just a little. DogDay pursed his lips before slowly reaching out and taking her hand. His grip was warm, steadying. He squeezed it, and when she looked down at their joined hands, something in her hardened expression softened.
"...You did what you thought was right," he said quietly. Her face twitched. She wanted to pull away, but the warmth of his hand kept her still.
"I locked you and the other critters in your cells," she whispered, her voice heavy with guilt. "I knew the Hour of Joy was coming years before it even happened, but I did nothing to stop it. I—I killed humans and toys alike and thought what I was doing was right… but I was wrong. So wrong." DogDay’s eyes filled with a sadness she hadn’t seen in a long time.
"But you did it out of love," he murmured. "What you did… it may not have been the right choice, but you thought there was no other way to save us. You fought for us in the only way you knew how." He paused, his voice growing softer, more fragile. "You may not be able to forgive yourself… but I forgave you a long time ago." Ballade’s breath hitched, and though she was incapable of crying, the way her lips trembled made it clear how deeply his words cut through her. She shook her head slowly, the weight of her guilt pressing down on her.
"How… how could you forgive me?" she asked, her voice breaking. "I helped ruin everything." He looked down at their hands, his fingers tightening around hers as he searched for the right words.
"...You could have left a long time ago," he began softly, his voice heavy with emotion. "You're capable of doing so—but you didn't. You stayed here to help us. You stayed to make things right… even when you didn’t have to." He paused, his breath catching, then slowly pulled himself up, wrapping his arms around her neck. He nestled into the side of her neck, his voice a warm whisper. "So how could I not forgive you?" She believed she choked out a sob as her hands slowly rose, trembling, to press against his back. She held him close, her grip tightening like she was afraid to let go.
"Y-You always did have a heart of gold, puppy," she whispered softly then they both sat in a comfortable silence, waiting patiently for the Player to return while remaining vigilant- who knows what could be lurking in the shadows. A couple minutes past and Ballade hears the whir of electricity, seems they finally managed to restore power to the back up generator. "I'm going to check on Angel, will you be fine here if I leave you?" he salutes her, she snickered softly when she could see an imaginary tail wagging.
"Affirmative." she pats his head.
"Okay, but I'll be quick." She set him down gently where she had been sitting, giving him a reassuring pat before rushing off to find the Player. She moved through the thick red smoke with ease and entered the maintenance room, her eyes scanned the area, but the Player was nowhere to be seen. She hummed softly then scaled the wall leading to the room with the generator but then she saw the shutter doors closed, her brows furrowed in confusion. Without hesitation, she grabbed the edges and tore them open with a loud screech of metal. But the room was empty. Her eyes swept the space carefully until they caught the glint of an open vent, the cover hastily removed and set aside. They must have trapped themselves in the room and neither she nor DogDay could hear them, if they called out for help, so they took an alternative route. But where did they-
"Ballade!" The desperate cry of DogDay rang out, sharp and panicked. Her head snapped toward the sound, and without a moment’s hesitation, she leapt down from where she stood, landing in a low crouch with a soft thud. She broke into a sprint, her heart pounding against her chest as she raced back to where she’d left him. The Player would have to wait — DogDay's safety came first. She couldn’t let anything happen to him. She wouldn’t. As she neared the end of the corridor, she felt a brief wave of relief when she saw him — still in one piece, still there. But the feeling vanished in an instant when she noticed the wide-eyed panic on his face. He was pointing down the opposite hallway, his whole body trembling.
"CatNap!" he gasped. "I saw CatNap!"
"Where?" DogDay couldn’t help but shudder at the venom laced in her voice.
"Down the hall from where we came from!" he cried. Ballade scooped him up and sprinted down the corridor, specifically to the door they ignored. She barreled toward the door leading to the room filled with red smoke, her hands slamming against the doorframe as she skidded to a stop. Her eyes widened in horror when she spotted CatNap through the glass, his claws raking viciously at the Player.
"Angel!" DogDay’s desperate shout echoed through the hall. The sound made CatNap’s head snap toward them, his eyes locking on the sight of Ballade and DogDay. His expression shifted from menace to fear.
"Get away from them, CatNap!" Ballade’s voice was a furious snarl. She struck the door with enough force to make it shudder in its frame. CatNap didn’t take his chances. He stumbled backward and quickly scrambled into the vent, disappearing from sight. The second he was gone, DogDay leapt from Ballade’s arms just as she kicked the door open, red smoke billowing out into the hallway. Her eyes flicked upward toward the vent, but she forced herself to focus on more immediate concerns. "Oh no," she whispered harshly when her gaze fell on the Player’s still form. They lay unconscious on the ground, their gas mask shredded and useless.
"Are they okay?" she let out a breath as she quickly picked them up.
"Maybe a few scratches, but CatNap broke their mask. They inhaled some of the red smoke." DogDay pressed a hand to his forehead.
"Oh no." she nods as she carried them out of the room.
“My words exactly.” Ballade let out a long sigh, the weight of the situation settling heavily on her shoulders. “Let’s get out of here.”
She knelt down, offering DogDay an easy path onto her back. Once he climbed on, she stood and carried them both out of the building, not venturing far — just enough to escape the oppressive red smoke. Outside, she settled on the worn concrete steps, the cool air a stark contrast to the suffocating heat of the facility. Carefully, she removed the GrabPack from the Player’s back and adjusted their position so their head rested gently in her lap. As their face twisted with the torment of the hallucinations the red smoke induced, Ballade’s fingers instinctively moved to their forehead, brushing soothing circles in an effort to ease their pain.
“Will they be okay?” DogDay’s voice was soft and worried as he slid off her back and settled beside her. He leaned into her side, seeking the comfort she always provided.
“Hopefully,” Ballade murmured, her eyes never leaving the Player’s pale, strained face. “It might be a while before they wake up. I feel like this is the first bit of rest they’ve gotten since getting stuck here… even if they’re suffering through whatever haunts their mind.” She huffed softly, the sound heavy with a mix of frustration and concern, her hand never stilling as it moved in gentle strokes through the Player’s hair.
"Shouldn't we... hurry?" DogDay asked softly, his voice tinged with concern. Ballade shrugged, her eyes still scanning their surroundings.
"What's the rush? CatNap's not gonna do anything rash now that he knows we're out and protecting the employee, and Poppy can eat it. She ain't gonna rush me—I just woke up." DogDay couldn't help but chuckle at her choice of words.
"I guess you're right."
"Of course I'm right." Ballade’s tone softened just a bit. "Let's enjoy this last bit of freedom before we have to go back to the prison." He peeked up at her, his brows knitting together.
"How do you know we're going to the prison?"
"Where else is there to go?" she said with a sigh. "I’ve got an idea of what little Miss Poppy is planning, but I highly doubt she's gonna let them go now that she's trapped them this deep. If we don't keep a close eye on them, she's gonna wear them down." Her voice grew quieter, more serious. "And that's the last thing we need." She wrapped an arm around him, her hand rubbing up and down his arm in slow, comforting strokes. DogDay leaned into her warmth, his tension easing little by little. But even as she comforted him, Ballade’s eyes never stopped moving, watching every corner, every fleeting shadow. She was waiting, daring that cat to show his face again. If CatNap came near them—near DogDay, near the employee—she wouldn’t let him get close.
"Nngh..." the two look down and saw the Player stirring softly, their hand weakly lifting from their side to press against their head. Their hand rubbed over their eyes then dragged down their face and when they finally came to they were startled to see Ballade looming over them.
“Well good morning, sleeping beauty~” Ballade teased, laughing when the Player practically launched off her lap. DogDay peeked over her shoulder and couldn’t help but giggle himself when the Player scrambled to their feet, eyes wide in confusion.
“W-What happened?” they asked, brushing themselves off. Ballade pursed her lips, drawing lazy circles in the air with her finger.
“CatNap attacked you, and you inhaled some of that nasty red smoke. We saved you just before he could do any real damage, but… sorry we didn’t get to you sooner.” The Player let out a long breath, rubbing the back of their neck as they settled down next to Ballade again. “Did you enjoy your nap?” she teased.
“Other than the hallucinations? Yeah. Great nap,” they deadpanned, making her snicker. “Why didn’t you wake me up?”
“We noticed how exhausted you were,” DogDay answered before Ballade could. “She thought you could use the rest… even if you were suffering through a couple of hallucinations.” Ballade sweat-dropped at his bluntness.
“Never know when you’re gonna get to sleep again.”
“Yeah, especially when I’m already stuck in a nightmare,” the Player muttered.
“You could say that again,” Ballade agreed softly. The three of them fell into a comfortable silence until the Player surprised them both by leaning their head against Ballade’s arm. She blinked in surprise but let them stay—what’s a few more minutes of peace? “…I almost miss it,” Ballade murmured so quietly they almost didn’t hear her. The Player and DogDay both glanced up at her.
“What do you miss?” the Player asked. She laughed softly, a little wistful.
“The work. The best thing about being assigned to Playcare was watching the kids… making sure the Smiling Critters didn’t get into too much mischief—which they often did. But still… most of the time, I was just lazing about, listening to their laughter.” She smiled, the memory clearly warm despite the weight of everything that had happened.
“We gave you a lot of trouble back in the day,” DogDay said with a small grin.
“Oh, you did. But you? You were the peacemaker,” she said, giving his head a soft pat. “Kickin and Hoppy were the ones that had me running around like crazy, but they never got far.” Her smile faded as a heavier thought crossed her mind. “I miss it. The good days… I really do.” The Player swallowed thickly when they noticed her hand clenching into a tight fist. The tension only eased when DogDay placed his paw on her other hand, grounding her. She was surprised when the employee gently placed their hand over hers. Looking down, she saw the pained expression on their face.
"I don't understand what you've been through, not one bit," they admitted, their voice soft but steady. "But I do know one thing... you didn’t deserve what happened to you." They turned her hand over, rubbing their thumb over her knuckles in a comforting gesture. "None of you did. You were just… you were just children." Her eyes widened.
"You..."
"After finding those VHS tapes and notes on my way down here, I could put two and two together." They shook their head, a mixture of sorrow and determination in their gaze. "You could have had a life, but you were robbed of your childhood. I can't give that back to you, but the least I can do is help take down the Prototype—the thing that brought all of this crashing down." Ballade and DogDay stared at the Player for a moment before bursting into laughter. Ballade placed a hand on her chest to steady herself, while DogDay pressed a paw to his mouth, trying to stifle his giggles.
"You're funny, Angel," DogDay managed to say between muffled chuckles.
"We appreciate the sentiment," Ballade said, amusement still lacing her tone, "but if you really want to take down the Prototype, you're going to have to do a lot of work. He’s been scheming since the early nineties... I think. I’m close." She inhaled deeply before rising to her feet, easily hoisting DogDay onto her shoulder. She then looked down at the Player, offering her hand. "Well, if you’re serious about this, then let’s get to it." The Player met her gaze before letting out a soft laugh, placing their hand in hers.
"Let’s." She helps them up, and the three of them take the power cord connected to the Counselor's Office and bring it back to the generator room. When connecting it, they realize they're just a tiny bit short due to Poppy restoring power to the skylights. Ballade leaves DogDay with the Player and quickly rushes off to grab the power cord from that terminal. She's back in record time, and with that last power cord, they've produced a giant blue battery. She offers to carry it, but they reassure her that it's no problem, picking it up with the GrabPack and carrying it to the Gas Production Zone.
"Do you think..." DogDay's voice breaks the silence as he shifts slightly on her shoulder, lagging behind a bit as the employee walks ahead. "Do you think we'll actually be able to beat the Prototype? We've been trying to get the upper hand for years, but we haven't even come close." Ballade stares at him for a moment before shrugging.
"Who knows? Maybe we'll all die in the end. Maybe that's better. But they've come so far... maybe they really will kill the Prototype and finally end our suffering." She feels DogDay’s small arms wrap around her.
"I hope they do." She pats his arm gently. "I'm just so tired of needing to survive, I just wanna live again." She nods, her voice soft.
"Me too, puppy. Me too." As they finally approach the Gas Production Zone, the Player has already entered the room, making their way toward the blue battery slot. Just as they reach it, the doors suddenly slam shut. "Wha—what's going on?!" Ballade shouts, rushing forward. She grimaces as she peers through the glass, only to see the shutters closing as well.
"Angel! Angel, are you okay?!" DogDay yells, his voice edged with panic.
"It's CatNap!" Their eyes widen as the Player’s voice crackles through. "He's filled the room with the red smoke! I—I've got to go!" She can hear CatNap's heavy footsteps stomping after the Player before they vanish completely.
"No... no, no, no!" Ballade dropped DogDay to the ground and tore the door open, flinging it aside before forcing her hands beneath the shutter doors and ripping them apart. A thick wave of red smoke billowed out, forcing DogDay to cover his mouth as Ballade rushed inside, searching desperately for both the Player and CatNap. She cursed under her breath. The room was empty. The lift to the escape room had already been activated, the blue battery abandoned on the floor. "They got away, but CatNap went after them...!"
"Then follow after them!" Ballade hesitated, catching the way DogDay’s gaze flickered toward the red smoke, fear flickering in his eyes.
"What about you?" DogDay clenched his fists before looking up at her.
"Take me with you... I'll—I'll be fine." She swallowed thickly.
"Are you sure?" He nodded.
"Yes. I don’t want to wait this time."
Ballade sighed but nodded nonetheless, scooping him up before stepping back into the smoke. She felt him shake his head, trying to fight off the hallucinations as she quickened her pace toward the elevator. As they waited for the lift to descend, she kept a comforting hand on his back. Finally, when it arrived, she jumped in, hitting the next button to take them up. If memory served her right, the room CatNap had taken the Player to was a panic room. She vaguely remembered Stella mentioning it in passing—back when things were normal. It was never meant to be used, but when everything went to hell, that’s where most of the human employees fled. And she had personally dealt with them.
-
Fending off CatNap in the Safe Room was a waking nightmare.
The moment they entered, Poppy’s voice crackled through unseen speakers, her instructions flashing on the terminal. Defend yourself. Activate the traps. Survive. The Player wasted no time. They grabbed a battery and slammed it into one of the defense stations, watching as a steam wall roared to life, sealing off one corridor. They activated a green hand port, but the moment it triggered another steam wall, the first one flickered off. A mistake. They cursed under their breath and tore the battery out, resetting it before CatNap could take advantage of the gap.
With the final battery in hand, they sprinted to the top-left receiver, locking it in place. A timer appeared on the terminal. The countdown had begun. Then came the footsteps.
They paced between the two open corridors, Flare Hand at the ready, breath hitching as shadows loomed at the ends of the hall. CatNap. Or was it? The red smoke thickened around them, warping their vision, making the walls feel closer, suffocating. Illusions. They raised their arm and fired a flare down the corridor—the ember burst, cutting through the haze. Nothing. A hallucination. The terminal alarm blared—new battery required. The Player bolted to the next receiver, shoving in another battery just as the trapdoor above them creaked open. Their stomach dropped. A low, guttural growl rumbled from above. He was using the ceiling now. They barely had time to react before the hatch shifted, a clawed hand reaching down. Their heartbeat pounded in their ears as they lunged, slamming the trapdoor shut just before CatNap could drop in.
His claws scraped against the metal, the sound making their skin crawl. Every second, his footsteps echoed from all directions. The illusions flickered in and out of existence, growing closer, the glowing white eyes multiplying in the shadows. They couldn’t tell what was real anymore. Somewhere beyond the suffocating red haze, Ballade and DogDay’s voices rang out. Their stomach twisted—was it really them? Or just the smoke playing tricks on them? There was no time to figure it out. CatNap was relentless, his attacks coming faster. The Player barely managed to stop him, blasting steam at him, whipping around to fire off flares, and slamming the trapdoor shut again and again. Their lungs burned, their arms ached, but they couldn’t afford to slow down. Every time they turned, those soulless white eyes were closer.
The terminal outlet flashed brighter than before. The Player’s eyes snapped to it. This was it. Without thinking, they shot out their Green Hand, feeling the electricity surge through their arm as the circuit overloaded. CatNap crashed through the trapdoor just as they turned. With gritted teeth, they raised their hand, aimed at the monstrous cat, and fired. A surge of pure electricity shot forward, slamming into CatNap’s chest. His body convulsed, a twisted, piercing screech ripping from his throat. Smoke poured from his body, his glowing eyes wide in shock as the energy coursed through him, crackling through fur and metal alike. The stench of burnt flesh filled the air as he collapsed.
CatNap, against all odds, was still alive. His body trembled as he struggled to push himself up, smoke curling from his scorched fur. His ragged breaths filled the tense silence, his limbs barely able to support him. Then, the trapdoor above groaned open. The Player flinched as a long, mechanical claw descended from the darkness—a skeletal hand of slender silver pins, its joints clicking unnervingly as it extended downward. The Prototype.
The metallic fingers twisted with eerie precision before stopping, hovering inches from CatNap’s face, waiting. His breath hitched as his pupils shrank to pinpricks. Then, with a slow, reverent movement, he pushed himself onto his knees, head tilting slightly as if gazing upon something holy. He remembered the first time that hand had reached for him—the day it saved him, the day he learned what true power was. His lips curled into something between a grimace and a grin as he presented himself openly to the Prototype. He was here to save him. Just like before. Just like always. What more could he ask for—
"No!" A voice cut through the tension a second before Ballade slammed into CatNap, knocking him away. They hit the floor hard, but she didn’t hesitate, scrambling over him as she fixed her wild eyes on the Prototype. She and DogDay had finally reached the panic room, just in time to see CatNap kneeling before the monster that had destroyed them all. The Prototype’s fingers had been poised like a spear, seconds away from driving straight through his skull.
Ballade didn’t know why she had moved. She was still so angry. Angry at him for lying to her, for manipulating her into following the Prototype, for trapping her inside her own body for four long years. But as she gripped his tattered fur, her breath shaking, something inside her twisted painfully. No matter how much she hated him, there was still a part of her that remembered the boy he used to be. The one she had cared for. The one she had lost. Ballade grappled with CatNap, the two rolling across the ground in a violent struggle. She managed to slip behind him, locking her arms around his neck in a tight chokehold. He clawed desperately at her arms, but after enduring a surge of electricity and severe burns, his strength was fading fast. He was no match for her.
"You are not going to die!" she shouted, tightening her grip as he thrashed. "I won't let him take you, Theo!" CatNap's breath came in ragged gasps.
"No! My god... he wouldn't abandon me! After everything I did for him, he wouldn't just..." His voice faltered, and his wide, panicked eyes darted upward. DogDay appeared beside them, his arms wrapping around both Ballade and CatNap, reinforcing the hold. His voice was soft, yet firm.
"He abandoned us a long time ago, old friend." CatNap's gaze snapped back to the trapdoor above. The Prototype, his supposed savior, was already withdrawing, disappearing back into the darkness. There was no hesitation, no second thought—just cold indifference. The realization struck like a blade to the gut. The god he had worshipped, the entity he had given everything for, had never truly cared for him. A furious growl rumbled from his throat, and he twisted violently, trying to break free.
"Let go! Let me go!"
"No, not this time!" Ballade barked, her grip unwavering. "I ran from you once, blaming you for what I had done. But it was my fault for abandoning you with that thing when you were just as manipulated as the rest of us. And I am so sorry, Theo!" His struggles weakened, his body trembling. His voice came out in a whisper, fragile and broken.
"N-No... he- he didn't..." But the truth was right in front of him. The Prototype was gone, and all that remained were the people who still cared for him, even after everything.
"I'm sorry... I'm so sorry for blaming you. You only did what you thought was right, and I believed in you. We both did. We put our faith in something we thought would save us, something that promised us salvation—but all it did was take everything away. And I let it happen. I turned my back on you when you needed me the most." Her voice trembled, thick with regret. "I can't take back the things I said. I can't undo the pain I've caused, the choices I made, the years we lost... but I swear, Theo—I swear—I want to make it right." even after everything that happened, even after they put each other through, she just couldn't bring herself to hate the young boy whom she loved with all her heart.
"I-I'm..." she peeked her head over his shoulder and let out a breath when she saw tears streak down his burnt face, she loosened her grip when she felt the fight drain out of him and he instead hunched forward and start crying. "I'm sorry for what I've done...!" she hummed softly as she moved her arms to wrap around his body and embrace him, her head leaning against his cheek and nuzzling it softly to comfort him.
"I know, I know..." Ballade left CatNap to DogDay, who was clinging to the toy and repeatedly apologizing for the state he had reduced him to. She turned toward the Player, who had been watching. "Are you alright?" she asked, kneeling down to avoid overwhelming them.
"Yeah... yeah, I'm good." They let out a sigh of relief and reached forward to gently pat her head.
"I'm sorry we weren't there to stop him in time. I feel awful for leaving you alone." Ballade shook her head, waving her hand to dismiss the concern.
"It's fine, really. I'm just glad you were here in the end." They smiled softly and withdrew their hand. Ballade helped them to their feet and then glanced back at CatNap and DogDay.
"I think this is where we leave you," she said, causing the Player to look up at her in shock.
"What?" She chuckled at their reaction.
"Don't worry. You're just going to have to go on without us for now, but we'll catch up. I’m going to have CatNap find DogDay's legs—he definitely left them somewhere. I also need to grab a couple of things. If you're going deeper into the factory, there are some things I need before we can follow." Ballade patted their shoulder. "But I must warn you... what you went through up here is nothing compared to what's below. If you're not careful... you might not make it out." The Player swallowed thickly.
"Right... I’ll take that warning to heart."
Lullaby pt. 2
word count: 10,231
Fandom: Poppy Playtime Pairing: N/A Pronouns: She/Her Relationship: Familial Occupation: Caretaker Ability: Ballerina Music Box
The character takes the appearance of a beautifully crafted music box ballerina figurine made of the toughest porcelain and glass, their clothes made from real fabric that is soft to touch and hair so smooth and silky you'd mistake it for real hair. Attached to their back is a wind up key that continuously spins when they're active and stops when they switch off. If the key is removed they cease to operate until key is returned and they are wound up again. Before CatNap, the character was the one to put the children to sleep with their built-in music box that would constantly be updated with new songs to play to help ease the children to sleep.
Keys:
[F/N]: Female Name
Warnings: the hour of joy, blood, death, all that shit.
"Lullaby" pt. 1, pt.3
finally started using grammarly properly and started cleaning up my shit, i'm kind of happy about the outcome, though grammarly does tend to repeat a couple words.
I originally wanted to make this longer but I'll put in what I want in the next part.
that is all.
It was just like any other day.
Wake up.
Do a headcount during breakfast.
Guide the children to school.
Clean up around Home Sweet Home.
Entertain the Smiling Critters.
Play with the children after their lessons.
And so on and so forth. But a problem arose when she was in the middle of cleaning up Home Sweet Home. It was late at night, and the staff had missed a few things during their shift. Rather than wait for the morning crew, she decided to take care of it herself. Usually, a few lingering night guard employees would patrol Home Sweet Home while she "slept," taking over her job of monitoring the Playcare. But tonight, she was struggling to find them—or at least the one in charge.
"Where the hell is the night guard...?" she muttered to herself, standing on the second floor and looking over the railing to try and spot the man. A quiet breath left her lips when she still couldn't find him. She sighed, frustrated, her nails tapping against the oak beneath her fingers. Forget it—she'd find him later.
She moved on to the third level of Home Sweet Home, where the Smiling Critters resided. Peeking into their rooms, she nodded softly when she saw them all sound asleep. But when she opened CatNap's door—
"H-Help me..." Her eyes widened at the sight of one of the morning staff lying in a pool of their own blood, deep scratch marks gouged along their arms and face. Huh—no wonder she hadn’t seen them earlier that afternoon. Slowly, she lifted her eyes and found CatNap staring at her, shock clear in his gaze. He hadn’t expected her. Some of the red smoke escaped his mouth, though they both knew it didn’t work on her.
"P-Please save me..." the injured woman pleaded, grabbing Ballade's leg and trying to pull herself up. Ballade froze, her mind racing. Why did she have to walk in at this moment? Why now? This woman had been pestering CatNap all day to "open up," insisting she was "there for him." He’d ignored her until she cornered him in his room, and clearly, things had escalated.
What was Ballade going to do? Report this to the higher-ups? Send CatNap to the doctor to fix his violent outburst? Was she scared of him? There was nothing he could do to stop her. Despite being made before the Smiling Critters, Ballade’s model had been designed to handle toys the humans couldn’t control. He took a step back when he saw her glance down at the woman, her hand reaching out. He expected her to help her up—but instead, her hand crushed the woman’s head in one swift motion.
Ballade waited for the twitching to stop before she removed her hand, looking back up at CatNap. She smiled softly. Before she could speak, the sound of footsteps echoed outside the room. She pressed a finger to her lips and gestured for him to stay quiet. Lifting the woman’s body by the neck, she stepped out and shut the door just as the night guard appeared.
"Ah, there you are, Balla—" He stopped, eyes widening at the sight of the dead body. "Why on earth do you have a corpse?" She shrugged.
"I thought she was an intruder and dealt with her the way the Head Executives told me to." He stared for a moment, then shrugged.
"Whatever, as long as you don't do that to me."
"You have a reason to be here overnight. She did not. I didn’t expect anyone but the nightguards to be here—and I know you wouldn’t sneak around like a rodent." She smiled sweetly as the woman’s bones cracked under her grip.
"R-Right... So, uh, what are you going to do with her body?"
"Feed her to Boxy. If the children ask why she’s missing, I’ll just say she’s sick and needs time to recover. Mister Pierre prefers it when I kill the staff—saves him money on wages."
"Sounds like him." The guard nodded. "Need any help?"
"I’ll manage. I’ll be back once the body’s disposed of." With a polite bow of her head, she turned away. Noticing the guard linger near CatNap's door, she held her breath—but he simply shook his head and walked off in the opposite direction. "Perhaps I should thank CatNap. Now I get to see Boxy Boo~ It’s been a while." Tossing the corpse over her shoulder, she made her way down to the prison. The night shift employees didn’t blink an eye when she passed with a body in tow. They knew the drill.
The moment Boxy's cell opened, his eyes peeked through the crack—and then the lid burst open. His tongue lolled out at the sight of fresh meat. She caressed his head gently before tossing the body onto the floor. As he ate, she sat beside him, talking about anything that came to mind. Boxy couldn’t speak, but she knew he was listening—and understanding.
It was hard to leave him, especially when he whined softly for her to stay. But she had other matters to attend to.
"Oh, kitty cat~" she cooed softly as she entered CatNap's room, now dressed in fresh clothes. She had taken longer than expected—mopping up blood was a tedious task. But she was back, and she found him sitting nervously on his bed. "You must be curious about what just happened, hmm?" She didn’t sit beside him, mindful of his nerves. Instead, she knelt before him, waiting patiently.
"... You killed her," he said quietly.
"I did."
"The human guard was fine with it..."
"He was."
"... Have you killed before?"
"Many times." She looked down at her porcelain hands, imagining the blood that had stained them so often. "I am Playcare's security for a reason. So long as I don't step out of line, I can deal with these humans however I like—and they won’t bat an eye. Mister Pierre prefers it. Saves him money and resources." Her voice softened as her hands began to tremble. "But I hate the human employees. They know what we are, what was done to us—and still, they smile while they lead children to their deaths. So yes, when I kill them—when they beg and plead—I enjoy it."
The sadistic glint in her eyes startled CatNap. But then her expression crumbled.
"But then I remember those children. I smile with them, sing with them, play with them—and I lie to them. I give them hope that they’ll leave this hell, knowing they never will. And that makes me just like those adults. I let those kids slip through my fingers." She clenched her shaking hands. "I hate myself for it."
"I don’t think you’re like them," he whispered. "You try to keep us safe. You let me go when I tried to escape." She blinked, startled that he remembered.
"And I am grateful to 1006 for saving your life. But that still isn't enough. I just want them to be free, even if it means I have to stay down here to repent for what I have done." She looked up when CatNap's paws grabbed her hands.
"The Prototype will save us." She blinked in confusion.
"T-The Prototype? But how? Ever since you two tried to escape, he's been put in a high-security cell that only the Head Executives and the Doctor can access. I'm allowed to roam the prison however I like, but even I'm not allowed near it. I-It's impossible." She shivered slightly when he gave a low chuckle.
"He will give us salvation. With him, we will know true freedom." He noticed the way her face broke, even if it was just for a second; he saw the way his words were getting to her. "If we side with the Prototype, he will free us from this prison." Her gaze stayed on him before it drifted to the side.
"I don't care if I have to stay down here, I just want those kids to be free." She licked her lips as she looked at him. "If I help... will he promise to set them free?" He grinned.
"The Prototype will set us all free." She wavered, swallowing thickly as she took her hands back.
"I need to think about this, Theo. If something goes wrong--" He shook his head.
"Nothing will go wrong." She sighed.
"We don't know that. I haven't agreed nor have I declined the thought of siding with the Prototype, but I just need to think about this. If I do agree... I'll come find you, but it'll take me some time." He nodded his head.
"There's no need to rush, [F/N]."
"Thank you, Theo." She smiled, albeit weakly, and hugged him. "I really needed this."
"... If you ever need to talk, I'll be here." She hummed softly.
"You're probably the only one who would understand, but I don't want to burden you with my thoughts." He shook his head.
"It's the least I can do with all the stress you have to carry."
"Hah, then I appreciate it." She scratched under his chin and nuzzled her cheek against his. "I won't say a word about our conversation to anyone, but tell me if anyone else bothers you. I will personally take care of it. Or if you kill anyone, tell me and I'll clean it up. You're not technically allowed to kill anyone, so we'll both get in trouble if that occurs." He let out his own laugh.
"I'll keep that in mind." CatNap perked up when he felt her movements start to lag, so he looked at the wind-up key and saw that it was beginning to slow. Noticing this, he gently nudged her stomach. "You should go back to your stage; you're beginning to slow down."
"Oh, I didn't even notice." She started pushing herself up but struggled a little. She let out a noise when CatNap stood up and let her lean on his body. "Thank you."
"Allow me to help you down..." She hummed softly.
"I appreciate the help." The nightguards didn't question CatNap helping Ballade down the stairs and onto her stage, where he waited for her key to stop turning to finally leave her alone. They all knew that CatNap was her favorite out of all the Smiling Critters and figured if they couldn't find her in her usual spots, she'd be with that colossal cat.
And so the days went on as if nothing happened in the first place. A few of the children did notice that the woman was missing but eventually forgot about it when Ballade said she was at home resting after catching a cold. The Smiling Critters did notice that Ballade and CatNap seemed a lot closer than usual; they also knew that CatNap was her favorite, but whatever occurred that night seemed to have strengthened their bond. Speaking of which, they needed Ballade for something and found both her and CatNap on her stage with a couple of other children drawing.
"What a wonderful blend of colors, sweetheart. Crafty Corn has taught you well during her arts and crafts lessons." Ballade praised as she looked over their art piece, quite impressed by their skill. "You will make a fine artist someday, child." She teasingly pinched their nose and giggled softly when they squealed.
"Stop that!" She held her hands up in surrender before leaning back into CatNap once more, her hand absentmindedly patting his head while her music box played songs that helped him sleep. Her other hand was drawing circles in the air before she finally noticed DogDay, Bobby, and Bubba, where she perked up and waved her hand to greet them. "Good afternoon, children! Care to join us?" She cocked a brow when she saw the three of them look nervous.
"Um, you're not particularly busy, are you?" She looked at the children that were sprawled all over her stage while CatNap nestled close into her back before looking back up at them.
"...Not really, no. Why?" Their reason was so ridiculous it woke CatNap up; even the children were staring in confusion. That's where she found herself staring down at Kickin and Hoppy, who had somehow gotten themselves stuck in the children's playground. "And you did this because you wanted to prove you could fit through the hole?" At least Hoppy had the decency to look shameless; Kickin just huffed as he hung by his waist from out of the hole he was stuck in.
"...Yes." She shook her head.
"You do know that this is a playground built for tiny children, correct?" She chuckled softly when Hoppy covered her face with her ears. "Have anything to say for yourselves?"
"...Help us?"
"No!" She slapped a hand onto her forehead and let out a sigh while the crowd of children laughed when Hoppy and Kickin apologized, which was what she really wanted. The next hour was spent with Ballade trying to get them out without damaging the playground or hurting the two, but both were difficult. The two of them had wedged themselves pretty tight, and she couldn't pull them out without tearing their stitching. She practically had to tear the holes they were in wide enough for them to slip out, but due to this, it destroyed the part of the playground they got themselves stuck in. She then spent the next half hour explaining to a few of the employees what happened while Hoppy and Kickin were on their knees with their arms above their heads as a form of punishment.
"You guys did this to yourselves," Bubba said, Picky and Crafty nodding their heads from behind the elephant.
"We're sorry..." Hoppy and Kickin sighed, DogDay snickering softly.
"The children had a good laugh out of it," Bobby said, pursing her lips as she scratched her cheek.
"Sure, but now they have to close the playground so they can fix what Miss Ballade broke to get them out." They looked back over at her and saw how she pinched the bridge of her nose at what the employee told her, then apologized and consoled the children when they learned they couldn't play on the playground. "Way to go, you two."
"Let's hope Miss Ballade doesn't get in trouble. They don't like it when we break any of the property," Crafty said.
"Perhaps since it was her, she won't get into a lot of trouble."
"Still, I can't help but worry." Hoppy and Kickin felt even worse; because of their competitiveness, they were getting Ballade in trouble. True to her suspicion, Leith reprimanded Ballade for not keeping an eye on the two and for not thinking of any alternatives to prying them free. CatNap was the one to slink over to her side to comfort her but flinched upon noticing that behind her smile-painted face was the look of rage burning in her eyes. Her hand closed into a tight fist, her entire frame trembling with suppressed anger as she watched Leith with Stella and a few other employees walk away. Her eyes snapped over to CatNap when she felt him press himself against her side, his presence the only thing keeping her from lashing out. She took a slow breath, forcing her muscles to relax, but her voice, when she spoke, was tight and low.
"Thank you..." she spoke softly, his ears perked up at her words. "You're really the only person that can calm me down..." Her voice was barely above a whisper, soft enough that only he could hear. The way CatNap lit up had the children thinking that Ballade was going to reward him with something. A broken, rumbling purr rippled from his throat as he rubbed affectionately against her side. She responded by kneeling down, her painted smile still in place, and nuzzled her cheek gently against his fur. The warmth of the gesture seemed so natural, so familiar, that the children watching giggled at the display.
But then her eyes shifted, softening as they landed on Hoppy and Kickin. Their ears drooped, and their expressions were heavy with guilt. Without hesitation, she approached them. They jumped in surprise when her hands landed softly on their heads, then cupped the back of them to pull them into a warm embrace. She felt the way they trembled in her hold, their little bodies overcome with remorse.
"W-We're sorry for getting you in trouble, Miss Ballade..."
"We promise we won't d-do it again..." they whimpered softly, their voices shaking. She shook her head, her grip on them gentle but firm.
"It's fine, it's better if I get in trouble than you lot. They would be far harsher on you than they ever would be with me." The thought chilled her, though she kept her tone calm and comforting. We’re lucky all I got was a talking to and nothing else, she thought bitterly. Pulling back just enough to meet their eyes, she offered a soft, reassuring smile. "As long as you learn from this, all is fine." she sweat dropped when they started crying so she continued to hold them until they eventually calmed down.
The next day, determined to make things right, Hoppy and Kickin approached the playground supervisor and took full responsibility for the damage. They also worked together to organize an impromptu arts and crafts day with Crafty Corn’s help, keeping the children entertained while the playground was being repaired. They even helped with the cleanup and offered to assist in the minor repairs they could manage without making things worse. Ballade couldn't help but be impressed by their initiative to take responsibility—perhaps the two of them were finally learning—until she noticed them bickering again, each claiming the idea had been theirs. She cleared her throat pointedly, and with one sharp look, the two fell silent.
Despite their antics, the effort they put in didn’t go unnoticed. By the end of the week, the playground was on its way to being fixed, and the children had enjoyed a day filled with laughter and creativity. Even Stella, seeing their hard work, made a point to praise them for stepping up. Later, as the day came to an end, Ballade found herself once again sitting with CatNap on her stage, watching the children show off their colorful creations. She let out a soft sigh, her hand absentmindedly stroking behind his ears.
“Maybe they’ll grow out of it one day,” she mused. CatNap chuckled, his purring a gentle vibration against her side.
“Maybe. But where would the fun be in that?” Ballade smiled despite herself, the warmth of the moment washing away the week’s troubles. For now, at least, there was peace—and perhaps just a little bit of hope.
Until—
"We're a head short..." Ballade murmured to herself as she counted the children that exited the school, she grew nervous when she counted again and again but she still ended up short one child. "Even one of the Miss Delight teachers is missing. Where could they have gone?" One of the Miss Delight teachers approached Ballade after hearing her question.
"Miss Ballade, thank goodness I've found you." She raised a brow.
"What is it?" She looked down at the teacher and watched her pace.
"The employees came earlier today and pulled one of the children aside." Ballade's face turned cold at what she said. "We know we're not supposed to interfere when they take the children, but they weren't following the correct procedure, so one of my sisters is stalling them." Miss Delight flinched when she saw the dark look on Ballade's face, her voice dropping.
"Where are they?" she asked, her tone sharp and dangerous.
"If she's stopped them, they should be close to the back."
She nodded once and turned, her pace brisk and her mind already racing through every possible scenario. Her breath quickened as she navigated the halls, thoughts swirling in a dangerous storm. If they were taking a child now, in broad daylight, it was far outside protocol. They were only supposed to remove the children at lights out—when it was easier to explain away their absence by saying they had fallen ill overnight. If they were breaking that rule, it meant that the scientists were eager to experiment on a child instead of having the lucky "chosen child" that was lucky to be adopted.
"Please, don't take Sarah away!" Miss Delight's desperate plea echoed through the corridor, trembling with fear and determination. Ballade’s sharp eyes immediately locked onto the two employees holding the child—Sarah—between them, their grips too firm and their faces too tense. Sarah’s frightened whimpers tugged at something primal inside Ballade. When one of the employees pushed Miss Delight back, Ballade’s vision flashed with fury. Her smile, painted and eternal, hid the storm brewing just beneath the surface.
"Unhand that child." Ballade’s voice was calm—too calm—but the weight of it filled the air like a thunderclap. Every head turned toward her, and the employees visibly stiffened under her gaze.
"Miss Ballade, this is none of your concern—"
"It becomes my concern when my children are frightened," she cut in coldly. She advanced slowly, every step measured, her eyes never leaving theirs. "And it becomes my problem when protocols are ignored." She stopped mere feet from them, her towering presence suffocating in its intensity. "So I will only say this once more: unhand the child. Now." they were quick to heed her words and they let Sarah go, who cried weakly and fell into Miss Delight's embrace.
"I-I was so scared...!" she sobbed softly, Ballade waved her hand and gestured for Miss Delight to take the child and leave.
"I'll handle this, go join the rest of the children and your sisters." she bowed her head, thanking the figurine profusely as she rushed away with the child in hand. When they were both out of sight and she knew they were alone, her fist connected with the wall beside their head and they both jumped in fright when it made a hole. The sharp crack of breaking plaster echoed through the corridor, and dust rained down around them.
"What do you think you were doing, hmm?" she asked, her friendly persona disappearing as she glared down at the two humans, who trembled under her terrifying gaze. Her eyes, usually warm and expressive, had turned cold and razor-sharp, her smile a painted mockery of calm.
"W-We... We were just fo-- following orders." they answered, their voices shaking.
"Oh? Then why didn't you follow the proper procedure?" Ballade’s voice was low and dangerous, like a blade sliding from its sheath. She took a slow, deliberate step forward, and they instinctively backed away. "If you are to take a child, I am to be informed so I don't act the way I am acting right now." The venom in her tone made their knees buckle. "Even so, why aren't you following the correct protocol?"
She advanced again, her presence suffocating and overwhelming. "When you are to take a child in broad daylight, especially when there are other children to witness your actions, you must do it in a way that doesn't cause the child to stress and raise alarms. And yet here you are—manhandling her like some kind of thief." Her voice dropped to a whisper, which somehow made it even more terrifying. "Are you thieves? Are you looking to steal from me? Because I will not tolerate anyone who threatens my children." One of the employees tried to stammer out an excuse, but Ballade slammed her hand against the wall again, cutting them off. The impact left another crack in the plaster, and both humans flinched violently.
"Give me one good reason," she hissed, her eyes burning with fury, "why I shouldn't report you to the Head Executives myself. Or perhaps..." She tilted her head, her smile twisting into something darker. "Perhaps I should take this up with the Doctor. I'm sure he'd love to use you in a few of his experiments." They paled at the mention of the Doctor, their fear now nearly tangible.
"Please... it was a mistake! We—we won't do it again!" one of them whimpered.
"You’re right about that," Ballade snapped. "Because if you ever step out of line again, I promise you—there won’t be enough left of you for anyone to find. Now get out of my sight."
She closed her eyes, taking a slow breath to calm herself before ripping her hands free from the wall, flexing her fingers to shake off the debris. She was confused—why wasn't she informed that they were taking one of the children that day? Why did they show up at the school to remove little Sarah? The more she thought about it, the more uneasy she felt. Something wasn’t right.
Did she do the right thing stepping in the way she did? The answer was clear in her heart—yes. But the weight of what she’d just done pressed heavily on her mind. She figured they were going to inform the higher-ups about her interference, and she knew there would be consequences. But was she really at fault? Was protecting the children wrong? Haa, she was going to get into so much trouble.
Her fingers twitched with leftover adrenaline as she turned to leave, but then she remembered the holes she had made. Her eyes darted around the corridor, scanning for any witnesses. Once she was sure the coast was clear, she grabbed the nearby lockers and, with little to no effort, shifted them just enough to conceal the damage.
Perfect.
She stepped back, brushing dust from her hands and examining her work with a critical eye. No one would know—at least for now.
"Miss Ballade!" her head perked up when she saw DogDay rushing up to her, his ears flopping with every hurried step. His face was a mix of worry and confusion "I heard what happened from Miss Delight! Are you alright?" She waved her hand to dismiss his concern, the painted smile on her face still intact, but her eyes betrayed her unease.
"I am fine, nothing to fret about," she answered calmly, her hand gently patting his shoulder in reassurance. "But I am concerned. Why would they break protocol? The scientists are usually very thorough on how they... take the children. They are never ones to send the employees—never in broad daylight, and never without informing me." Her voice softened, but the tension in it was unmistakable.
"Why would they do that?" she sighed.
"I haven't a clue." She jumped when she heard a cry, so she looked over DogDay and saw little Sarah clinging to Miss Delight's dress, the woman doing her best to comfort the child. Miss Delight's usual calm demeanor was visibly shaken, her hands smoothing over Sarah's hair in a desperate attempt to ease her fear.
"I-I was so scared, Miss Delight! I didn't do anything wrong!" The Smiling Critters, who had heard the commotion, huddled around the little girl, their soft voices trying to soothe her with gentle reassurances. Bobby reached out to pat her shoulder, and Crafty offered one of her handmade paper flowers, but nothing seemed to ease Sarah’s sobs. The moment Ballade approached, Sarah’s wide, tear-filled eyes locked onto her, and without hesitation, the little girl rushed over and threw her arms around Ballade's legs tightly. "I swear I didn't do anything wrong, Miss Ballade!" The heartbreak in Sarah's voice made Ballade’s chest tighten, her smile unable to mask the surge of emotion welling up inside her. She knelt down slowly, gently holding the trembling girl by her arms, brushing a stray lock of hair from Sarah's damp cheek.
"I'm sure you did nothing wrong, little one. But fear not—your friend Miss Ballade Ballerina thwarted their efforts! They won’t be coming to scare you, not anymore." Her voice softened with a warm, protective lilt, but inside, she felt a cold fury still simmering from the encounter. She gasped softly when Sarah threw her arms around her neck, her tiny frame shaking with sobs. Ballade sighed, the sound soft and heavy as her own arms wrapped securely around the child, one hand cradling the back of Sarah’s head as she whispered gentle reassurances. "I'll make sure of it," she promised, her voice low and fierce with quiet determination. She knew those words meant more than Sarah could ever understand.
"T-Thank you, Miss Ballade. I'm glad I can trust you." The girl’s words were muffled against her shoulder, but they struck Ballade harder than any blow. Her breath caught as she felt Sarah nuzzle closer into her embrace, seeking safety and comfort. The weight of guilt settled deeper into Ballade’s mind, cold and unshakable.
She really shouldn't place her trust in her.
CatNap noticed Ballade becoming more distant from herself after the incident with the child as bedtime approached. No one else seemed to pick up on the subtle changes — the way her painted smile looked just a bit more strained, how her eyes wavered every time she looked at the children. The mask she always wore, the one that kept her true emotions hidden, was slipping. She lingered longer when the children hugged her, held them a little tighter, as if trying to memorize the warmth of their small arms around her. Their laughter, their trust — it weighed heavily on her shoulders. They told her how much they loved spending time with her, and each word chipped away at her carefully constructed facade. It had always been easy to fake happiness for their sake, to protect their ignorant bliss… but with each passing day, it became so much harder to keep up the act.
It was during bedtime, after they put the children to sleep and she was walking CatNap back to his room, when he finally understood why.
"I'll do it." his head perked up when she spoke, her face void of any emotion.
"... do what?" her eyes hardened, whether it be at him or herself, he couldn't really tell.
"Whatever you and 1006 need, I'll do it." Ballade's shoulders slumped as her eyes fixated on a picture frame of the children laughing and smiling, not a single bad thought behind their innocent eyes. She stared at it, the image feeling so distant— like something she could never quite reach. She wondered what it would feel like to truly hold them, to feel their warmth, the softness of their little hands when they reached out for her. But she never would. The sensation of touch was something foreign, a mystery she'd never get to experience again in this body. Every embrace she gave them was empty for her, a performance of comfort she could never fully share.
"I can't do it anymore." Her voice broke, trembling with the weight of her words. "It pains me every time I watch those children cry and ask me what they did wrong to be taken away, how they trust me with every inch of their small bodies and I trample all over it just by simply existing." She wanted so badly to feel the way they held onto her, to know the security they believed she gave them. But all she ever felt was the aching hollowness where that connection should have been.
"I hate going to the prison and hearing their anguished cries to be let out, to go home, to be free." Her hands shook at her sides, the phantom feeling of their terrified clinging playing through her mind — sensations she could only imagine. "I hate lying to them, telling them everything will be okay when I know it won’t." she could imagine the sensation of tears welling up in her eyes, though they could never fall since she lacked the proper glands to produce them. "They look at me like I’m their protector, their safe place… and every time one of them disappears, I know I've failed them again." She clenched her fists so tightly her porcelain hands threatened to crack, but even the pain of it was absent. The frustration of that emptiness only made the ache inside her deepen.
Ballade's fingers traced the frame’s edges, her hands trembling as she fought to keep her composure. CatNap watched her quietly, his tail flicking with unease. It was rare to see Ballade like this— so vulnerable, so worn down by guilt and sorrow. He padded closer, pressing his head against her arm in an attempt to offer some comfort.
"They deserve better," she whispered, her voice barely audible. "Better than me. Better than this place." CatNap let out a low, broken purr, his eyes flickering with a knowing look.
"Then let's change it," he murmured, his voice soft but resolute. Ballade turned to him, her eyes wide but weak.
"But what if we fail?" he shook his head.
"We won't. With your help, freedom will be in ours hands. The Prototype will make sure of that, I promise." her lip trembled and he'd think she'd start crying but she was unable to, she bit her lip and knelt down to press her forehead against his.
"I don't care what happens to me, CatNap, so long as those kids get to leave this hellish place." Her voice hardened. "I'll side with you and the Prototype if it means those kids get to be free, if it means they don't have to suffer anymore." She turned to face him, eyes burning with a mixture of sorrow and resolve. "Just tell me what you guys are going to do, and I'll be right on your side." she was fully on her knees as she wrapped her arms around CatNap's neck and nuzzled into his head, he returned the affection as a single thought went through his mind.
He had won.
Ever since their conversation to help the Prototype, CatNap observed Ballade closely. He saw how the weight of her decision pressed down on her more with each passing day. There was a newfound desperation in her every action, an urgency that hadn’t been there before—because now there was chance to finally make things right. Now there was a possibility that the children's suffering could finally end, and that chance both strengthened and broke her.
He noticed how she struggled to get by every day, caught between the promise of freedom for the children and the reality of her own helplessness. The knowledge that she could finally save them gnawed at her, but with it came the agony of waiting—waiting for the right time, waiting for the right plan. Every second felt like a betrayal, knowing the children she loved were still at risk.
Ballade’s guilt was killing her. She hated herself for every moment she stood by and did nothing while the children were taken—frightened, confused, and pleading for answers she couldn’t give. She hated the way they trusted her so completely, how they clung to her and sought comfort in her arms when she knew she couldn’t protect them. And worse, she hated how she longed for their touch even though she couldn’t feel it.
That emptiness haunted her. Every time a child’s small hand slipped into hers, every time they hugged her tight, she could only pretend to feel it. She could see their warmth, their affection, but it never reached her. And yet she held onto those moments as if they could somehow fill the void inside her. She clung to their love because it was the only thing keeping her from falling apart.
"... the Prototype has a plan, [F/N]. But we must wait before we can act on it."
"How long must I wait?"
"I'm sure you can be patient." a weak chuckle escaped her throat when he saw her pout, he nudged his head against her cheek "Our freedom will be guaranteed with you on our side." she nods.
"Just tell me when, and I'll do whatever you two need me to do."
Having Ballade side with the Prototype was the last hurdle in their final plan. She was already well aware that the Prototype was one of the most dangerous experiments to ever come out of the Bigger Bodies Initiative. And though she was no match for a force as powerful and unpredictable as the Prototype itself, Ballade was more than capable of handling CatNap and the other Bigger Bodies. That was her job — not only to care for the children and dispose of any unwanted guests but to apprehend any of the toys that stepped out of line. She’d done it before, and she can most definitely do it again. She remembered the incident with Mommy Longlegs vividly — the frantic way the creature lashed out when the children left the Game Station and moved into Playcare. The hysteria had escalated so quickly that Ballade had been forced to tie Mommy Longlegs' limbs together just to stop her from going on a rampage. It wasn’t the first time Ballade had been made to turn on one of her own, and wouldn’t be the last so long as the toys did their jobs.
The Prototype will be most pleased to learn Ballade has sided with him.
[august eighth 1995, 10.00 am]
Deep breath.
In, and out.
In, and out.
Quell your nerves.
"Ballade, are you alright?" her eyes move down to one of the human counselors and saw the way the woman looked up at her in concern, seemingly noticing she wasn't acting like herself, but Ballade easily masked her unease and smiled.
"Don't worry about me, Miss. Just trying to come up with more ways to entertain the children, the older ones are growing bored of the usual activities I usually plan out. I'm struggling to come up with new things to keep them entertained." the woman laughed as she pats Ballade on the back.
"I'm sure you can come up with something, you're quite creative when it comes to keeping those kids on their toes!" she gave a laugh in response to her words.
"I try my best." she waves her hand goodbye when the woman had to return to the Counselor's Office, missing the way Ballade's eyes turned cold as they observed all the human employees walking around. It was like any other ordinary day within the Playcare, the children were up and escorted to the dining hall for breakfast by the Smiling Critters then guided to the school to proceed with the day. It was only a matter of time before it all begins, and they won't even know what hit them.
".... don't tell me you're chickening out, [F/N]." a bitter laugh escapes her lips when CatNap appeared beside her, she looked down at him and could practically see the eagerness in his eyes "It's almost upon us." she huffed.
"Yes, the day they all reap what they sow. The other Critters are still unaware, right?" he nods.
"They are. They're not nearly as understanding as you, so I was afraid to outright tell them the details about what was going to happen today." he saw the way her shoulders slumped.
"I feel like that it's for the better, Theo. Better to stain our hands than than the others." she let out a breath "Then we're going for plan b?" he nods his head.
"I have already told them to meet us beneath the Playhouse." she closed her eyes and briefly looked back into Home Sweet Home to find the clock and it was only half past ten, he watched her and saw the way she rubbed her arms nervously "Remember, [F/N], we're doing this to secure our freedom. The Prototype is giving us our chance to do right by the children by not only saving them, but ourselves." despite her hesitation, she nodded.
"You're right." she inhaled deeply before they both made their way to the Playhouse, they went through the back to avoid running into any other staff members or children and found the Smiling Critters in the prison, Ballade made sure there was nobody else beneath the Playhouse before entering the room alone.
"Children... something drastic is going to happen in the next half hour, and though I don't want you to participate in what is going to happen, I can't leave you in the dark." Kickin let out a nervous chuckle, his feathered hand rubbing the back of his head.
"W-What do you mean? Does this have to do with what CatNap was yapping about months ago?" she nodded.
"What exactly has he told you?" They looked at each other rather anxiously, Bobby pressing her paws together.
"He mentioned... the Prototype? Saying stuff about how he'll save us." Hoppy nodded.
"He was really cryptic with his words. It kind of freaked me out."
"CatNap was talking about how there will come a time when we will get to take back our lives if we... join the Prototype," Bubba said, his hooves messing with his lightbulb-shaped zipper.
"CatNap wasn't s-serious about us joining the Prototype, right? The staff told us that he was very dangerous," Crafty murmured softly.
"He's been obsessed with that thing for ages. I thought he would have gotten over it years ago," Picky added. DogDay, in turn, gave a forced laugh as he looked up at Ballade. He felt uneasy with how they were all trapped in the cramped room with Ballade blocking their way out. The dimly lit room didn’t help calm his nerves as Ballade looked down at them all with an unreadable expression.
"He wasn't being serious though, right? He was probably just trying to scare us! He wouldn't really consider joining hands with that experiment." He took Ballade by the hand and looked up at her for some sort of reassurance. "If you're talking to us about this, then that means CatNap brought this up with you as well. He wasn't being serious about helping the Prototype, right? You talked him out of it, right?" They all looked up at her eagerly and saw the way she couldn't meet their eyes.
"M-Miss Ballade?" When she took a step forward, they felt a chill run down their spines when they saw the look in her eyes.
"The Prototype will set us free," she spoke with a rather eerie voice. She took DogDay's paw and squeezed it, a look of desperate and conflicted expression on her face. "He said that if we help him, we'll be saving the orphans from being killed."
DogDay yanked his paw back, stepping away as if burned. "You... you're siding with the Prototype?" His voice was trembling, his wide eyes filled with disbelief.
Ballade flexed her hands, her painted smile a stark contrast to the pain in her eyes. "I didn’t, initially," she whispered. "But I’ve grown tired of seeing so many children dying at the hands of the scientists — and I let it all happen because I couldn't do anything about it. If we help him, he promises that he'll set them free... He’ll set you free! Don't you understand? If siding with the Prototype means we get to end this madness, then so be it."
The room fell into a suffocating silence.
"No," Hoppy whispered, her ears flattened against her head. "No, this isn’t right… You—You can’t believe him!"
"The Prototype is a monster!" Bobby cried. "He’s dangerous — the humans told us so!"
"And the humans lie!" Ballade snapped, her voice cracking as emotion bled through. "They hurt us! They hurt the children! How many more have to suffer before we fight back?!"
"Not like this," DogDay said softly, shaking his head. Tears pricked at the corners of his eyes. "Not like this, Miss Ballade…" they stare up at her in terror as her shoulders deflated, she let out a defeated breath as she lowered her head.
“Then... you leave me no choice.” Ballade’s voice was heavy with regret as she stepped to the side, one hand reaching for the doorknob behind her. It was then that they noticed the red smoke seeping from beneath the doorframe. When she turned the knob and pulled the door open, the thick, eerie mist flooded into the room, swirling around their feet. CatNap stepped in silently, his eyes gleaming with purpose.
“I can’t have you stopping us,” Ballade continued, her voice quiet but resolute. “Nor telling the adults what you’ve learned.” As the door clicked shut behind CatNap, the red smoke spread, filling the room like a creeping tide.
“W-What are you doing?” Kickin’s voice wavered, panic rising.
“Why are you doing this, Ballade?!” Bubba cried out, fear evident in his eyes.
One by one, they succumbed. The red smoke took them swiftly, their bodies crumpling to the floor as the strange gas overtook them. Ballade stood still, taking a deep breath—unaffected—as the others collapsed around her. Only DogDay resisted, his knees buckling as he fought to stay conscious, his teeth clenched.
“Please... don’t...” he whispered, his vision blurring.
But it was futile. As his strength gave out and he began to fall, Ballade caught him, cradling him gently in her arms. For a moment, she held him there, her grip firm but careful. When she pulled away, her fingers brushed against his face, cupping his cheeks with a heartbreaking tenderness.
“I’m doing this for your own good,” she whispered, her voice cracking. “You’ll forgive me for this when it’s all over... when you see what we’ve done was to save you.”
DogDay’s hand gripped her shoulder weakly, his eyes pleading—but then his strength faded completely, and his body went limp. Ballade closed her eyes, forcing herself to swallow the guilt rising in her throat. With methodical care, she gathered the others, dragging their unconscious forms into their individual cells. The sound of the locks clicking into place echoed in the still air, and she stood in the silence that followed, her heart heavy.
For a long moment, she lingered at the door, her hand resting on the cold metal.
“You did what you could, [F/N],” CatNap said softly behind her. “I’m sure they’ll thank you when this is all over.”
Ballade clasped her hands together tightly, the motion more to steady herself than anything else. “I just hope... my judgment isn’t wrong.” She looked down at CatNap, her eyes sincere but filled with doubt. “The Prototype will uphold his promise... right? The orphans will be set free... right?”
She didn’t trust the Prototype—how could she?—but she trusted CatNap. And CatNap believed in him. That was the only reason she was still standing here.
The only reason she hadn’t turned back.
"The doctors say he's dangerous, but he wants what's best for us all." this was enough to reassure her, she reached down and ruffled his head.
"If you say so." she takes another breath to calm herself one last time "We should probably go, it's almost time." he nods.
"The Hour of Joy is almost upon us." she chuckled as she laced her fingers together and pushed them forward, hearing her joints crack under the pressure.
"Let's get to work."
There were many toys that the Prototype managed to recruit to his cause, each one with their own grudges and reasons for joining his orchestrated rebellion throughout the entirety of Playtime Co. From Huggy Wuggy, stationed menacingly within the main lobby with his sharp-toothed grin and cold, unblinking eyes, to Mommy Longlegs lurking within the Game Station alongside the ever-watchful Mini Huggies, waiting with predatory patience for their signal to strike. In Playcare, the heart of the children's refuge, CatNap and Ballade stood as the most dangerous of his allies—each powerful in their own right, each burdened with their own twisted sense of duty and guilt.
Even Miss Delight, the ever-cheerful face of comfort for the orphans, was drawn into this uprising, her tears of joy and sadness masking the deep-seated resentment she bore toward the human employees. And then there were the mini Smiling Critters—once innocent and carefree, now caught between loyalty and fear. They hadn’t yet chosen their sides, and that hesitation made them dangerous liabilities.
The Prototype extended a hand to all the toys who had suffered at the hands of the human employees, promising them more than just vengeance. He offered them freedom—freedom from the torment of their artificial existence, from the chains of servitude and the horror of seeing the children they loved and protected dragged away, never to return. It was a chance to end the cycle of pain and finally reclaim their lives from those who had treated them as nothing more than tools and experiments.
EMERGENCY ALERT SYSTEM EFFECTIVE 8/8/1995 11:00:00 EST
Playtime Company
Issue A
WORK FORCE DANGER ALERT
"The following message is for all Playtime Co. employees.
At 11:01AM, Eastern Standard Time, an unknown hostile force declared present within the Playtime Co. facility.
Personnel are to begin enacting emergency evacuation protocols immediately.
Leave all personal belongings.
Do not engage with any hostile individuals.
If no exit path is available, seek shelter in a hidden location.
Use blankets or pillows to cover your body, and remain silent.
Do not look through any windows.
Do not open doors for any individuals.
Do not make eye contact--
...
...
Open the doors now. The Hour of Joy has arrived."
It started with the alarms—shrill, blaring cries echoing through the factory like the wailing of lost souls. The lights flickered violently, plunging corridors into a maddening dance of shadow and flame. In the main lobby, Huggy Wuggy descended upon the unsuspecting staff with terrifying speed, his massive frame moving with unnatural grace as his gleaming teeth tore through the chaos. Screams filled the air, but no one escaped his relentless pursuit. Blood painted the walls, limbs lay scattered across the floor, and the air reeked of iron and fear.
At the Game Station, Mommy Longlegs played with her prey. Her elastic limbs snaked through vents and rafters, dragging terrified employees into the darkness. The Mini Huggies scurried in swarms, their tiny forms overwhelming anyone who crossed their path. The once lively station became a house of horrors, filled with echoes of laughter twisted into something monstrous. Flesh was torn from bone, and the floors were slick with blood as the station became a macabre playground.
In Playcare, it was no better than the rest of the factory.
Outside the Playhouse, the halls of Playcare ran red. CatNap drifted through the corridors like a phantom, his red smoke spilling into every crevice. The humans never stood a chance—one by one, they collapsed, some peacefully, others choking on the thick haze, their bodies hitting the ground with lifeless thuds. Ballade followed in his wake, her hands already stained with blood. She moved with cold purpose, securing the orphans first, locking them away where no harm could reach them.
But the carnage followed her.
The human employees were torn apart, their bodies left in grotesque displays of violence. One counselor she had shared a conversation earlier in the morning with lay sprawled against a wall, her throat crushed that her head lolled unnaturally to the side. Another staff member—someone who had once laughed and joked with the children—clawed at his own face, the red mist driving him into a frenzy of madness before his body finally gave out.
As the hour stretched on, the factory drowned in chaos. The Prototype’s plan unfolded perfectly, and the rebellion tore through Playtime Co. like wildfire. Yet amid the destruction, doubt gnawed at Ballade’s resolve. The line between savior and monster blurred, and she wondered if the price of freedom was too steep to bear.
...
...
"Haaa..." It was only hours after the Hour of Joy had commenced when Ballade sat on one of the benches within Playcare, her head thrown back over the backrest while she spread her legs out. "That took longer than I expected," she muttered, as blood slowly dripped down her unclenched fists. The metallic scent of it clung heavily to the air, a stark contrast to the usual warmth and joy that once filled this place. She didn’t get exhausted easily, but after hours of nonstop killing, her body finally felt the weight of it.
She sat up and let her body rest against her knees, more blood sliding down her face and legs, staining her once-pristine porcelain skin a deep, ghastly red. The sticky sensation of it had long since lost its shock — now it just felt like part of her.
CatNap emerged from the shadows, his colossal frame also splattered with crimson, though his breathing was steady and composed. "Most of the humans are gone," he reported, his voice light, almost pleased. "Playcare’s finally quiet. Peaceful."
But it wasn’t peaceful. It was too quiet. The children’s laughter, the chatter of the Smiling Critters — it was all gone. In its place was an eerie stillness, broken only by the distant, occasional drip of blood hitting the cold floor. Ballade’s eyes flickered toward the Playhouse where the Smiling Critters still lay unconscious, and her heart twisted. They hadn’t stirred once since she and CatNap had gassed them. She told herself it was for their own good — they wouldn’t have been able to handle the truth of what needed to be done. Still, the silence behind that door haunted her more than the screams of the humans ever could.
"They’ll thank us," CatNap said softly, as if reading her mind. "When the dust settles, when the children are free— they’ll understand." Ballade nodded slowly, but the doubt gnawed at her. She looked down at her blood-soaked hands, wondering if there would ever truly be an end to the nightmare they’d created in pursuit of salvation.
"Cleaning this all up is going to take so much time..." she said as she looked around and saw all the bodies "I don't suppose we can leave this to the other toys, hmm?" the look CatNap gave her said otherwise, she let out a defeated sigh.
"The Prototype wants us to drag all the bodies down below." CatNap's voice was low, the eerie silence of Playcare amplifying his words. Ballade rubbed her face in exhaustion, smearing more blood across her porcelain skin.
"I can only guess why." Now that all the humans were gone, their connection to the outside world was severed. Supplies would stop coming. They'd have to make do with what was left. "I'm sure there are still some humans roaming around, hiding."
"We got all the ones that weren’t fast or smart enough to hide," he replied. "We should probably head to the labs first before dragging all the bodies."
"Fine by me. I’m not up for more labor after what just happened. Besides, we can check on the others down below to see if they’re done. There were a lot more humans in the prison compared to Playcare." She chuckled, shaking her head as she noticed the eagerness in his eyes.
"Let’s go," he urged, nudging his head into her side. She gently pushed him off as they walked toward the Gas Production Zone.
"We’re going, we’re going," she muttered. Their heavy footsteps echoed against the cold floor with every step, the sound bouncing off walls now stripped of the laughter that once filled the air. They maneuvered over the countless bodies they’d eventually have to clean up, the stillness around them almost deafening.
Reaching the elevator, Ballade gestured for CatNap to step in first. She followed closely behind, waiting for the familiar lurch as it started to descend. But instead of standing still, she left the control panel and leapt down to join him, landing softly beside him. Thanks to her body, she could scale great heights and drop from any distance without pain or injury. No matter how far the humans ran, she would always find a way to get to them. No matter where they hid, there would be no escape.
On their way down to the labs, they came across several toys—some still in the throes of violence, others feasting on the remains of the security staff. The air was thick with the coppery scent of blood and the grotesque sounds of tearing flesh. Some toys played with their victims' remains, giggling in twisted delight as they dismembered what was left. Others stood over the bodies like sentinels, eyes wide with an unhinged kind of glee. Blood painted the walls in wild, sweeping strokes, turning once sterile corridors into grotesque art.
Most of the toys paid them no mind, too absorbed in their grisly work. A few glanced their way, tensing as if ready to strike, but the moment recognition flickered in their eyes, they stood down. Even the most frenzied among them knew better than to cross paths with Ballade and CatNap.
The two of them had a reputation. CatNap was the Prototype's most loyal follower, his name whispered with both respect and fear. And Ballade—Ballade was the Head Executive’s personal bodyguard, an enforcer who obeyed their every command without question. As they ventured deeper through the prison towards the labs, every so often, distant, inhuman screams echoed from below—a reminder of what waited for them at the bottom. The air felt heavier, saturated with the scent of blood and chemicals as they made it to the lower labs. The walls bore deep gouges, the aftermath of something strong and enraged. And in the far distance, they could hear it—metal scraping against metal, a slow, deliberate sound that set their teeth on edge.
"Hmm?" Ballade twisted her head to the side when she heard a sudden clatter, sighing to herself when she spotted a scientist trying to hide but freaked out when he realized he had been spotted "Go on without me, I'll catch him before he locks down the labs. Besides, the Prototype scares me." she gestures for him to go on before turning and chasing after the scientist, catching up to him was easy but due to the fact he ran away he had led her to more humans that were hiding out. Ballade moved through the dim corridors, the scent of blood and metal still thick in the air. She had just finished tracking down the stray scientists, their cries cut short in a single, efficient movement. Wiping her hands on her already bloodied dress, she started back toward the lower labs where the Prototype waited.
As she approached the entrance, the sound of voices reached her ears. She slowed her steps, curiosity and caution guiding her closer.
"…and once the remaining children are secured, we can begin the next phase," the Prototype’s voice was calm and calculating, every word measured as he used the stolen voices of those who have spoken to him. "Their resilience makes them perfect subjects. We’ll have ample opportunities to push beyond the limits of what this facility dared to achieve."
Ballade froze. Her heart—if it could beat—would have stopped. She stepped closer, unnoticed, her breath caught.
"Ballade..." CatNap’s voice was hesitant. "Is not going to let this go. She wants them to be free..."
"Freedom," the Prototype interrupted smoothly, "is a matter of perspective. You see, true freedom lies in purpose—fulfilling the potential we were created for. These children… they are the key to unlocking evolution. Their sacrifice will pave the way for something far greater than any of us."
Ballade’s stomach twisted violently. The world around her blurred at the edges, a rising wave of nausea and panic threatening to drown her. Her hands curled into trembling fists, slick with the blood of those she had already killed, and the weight of those lives now pressed down on her like lead.
"But—"
"Do not let sentiment cloud your judgment," the Prototype’s tone darkened. "You’ve seen how fragile they are, how easily they break. Would you rather they die in fear and ignorance? Or serve a higher calling? In this way, their suffering gains meaning."
She couldn’t listen anymore.
"You lied to me," Ballade spoke, albeit a whisper, but it let her presence be known as she stepped into the lab. Both figures turned toward her. CatNap’s eyes widened in guilt; the Prototype merely regarded her with cool detachment.
"[F/N]—" CatNap started, but she shook her head as she looked towards the monstrosity that was the Prototype.
"You told me we were doing this for them," she whispered, her voice shaking with panic. "To save them. Not… not this." She gestured wildly. "Not to turn them into experiments!"
"Their freedom," the Prototype said, unflinching, "comes through transcendence. Through transformation. It is the only true escape from the frailties of their existence. You of all creations should understand this."
"I understand," she spat, stepping forward, "that you used me." Her cold eyes locked onto CatNap. "And you let him."
"I… I thought—" CatNap stammered, ears flattened.
"No." She shook her head, the enormity of her mistake crashing over her. The faces of the children flashed behind her eyes—their laughter, their trust—and the image shattered under the knowledge of what she had condemned them to. "I made a mistake to trust you." she shakes her head before turning on her feels and leaving, ignoring the way CatNap called out to her as she hurried back to Playcare.
This was a mistake.
I made a mistake.
I shouldn't have trusted them.
I shouldn't have trusted him.
But it's too late.
From one hell to another, the Prototype's in control now.
Bells
word count: 3975
Fandom: Poppy Playtime Pairing: N/A Pronouns: He/Him Relationship: N/A Occupation: Enforcer Ability: Court Jester
The character takes the appearance of a Victorian-era court jester, while their face is the only thing made of plaster their body consists of poly-blend sateen fabric, and their insides are filled with polyfill, allowing their body to bend and twist however they want, allowing them to get into even the smallest of crevices. They have a removable mask that they can replace with different ones that signify emotions but they're usually wearing the comedy mask, they also have bells on the end of their hat that jingles each time they move.
Keys:
n/a
Warnings: spoilers to chapter 4 and those who haven't played nor seen the game, blood, death and all that shit.
@ghrgrsfdesfrfg recommended this and I was heavily invested in this idea
Playtime Co. is releasing a once-in-a-lifetime toy!
Prepare to be captivated by the Royal Jester, a breathtakingly detailed action figure unlike any other. This stunning collectible stands tall and proud, boasting a regal design that blends the sinister charm of a jester with the power of a king.
The Royal Jester is a collector’s dream – a statement piece that merges art and imagination. This is more than just a toy; it's an artwork, a conversation starter, and a prized addition to any collection of fantasy and gothic figurines. Perfect for fans of dark fantasy, playing cards, or unique character designs!
There are four limited-edition Jesters; the four brothers of each suit.
The Royal Jesters of Spades, Clubs, Hearts and Diamonds!
Which one will you pick?
-
Subject: 1236
Original Procedure: 10/91
Behavior:
Assigned to the Game Station as one of the new games added to the area, Experiment 1236 is much different from his three "brothers". Before he was transferred into the body he inhabits now, he already had severe behavioral issues to the point it would be dangerous to leave him alone with any of the children. Showing signs where he lacked empathy, a disregard for rules, and was prone to random acts of violence.
This behavior transferred over into his new body and had to be confined within the prison where the staff advised we keep him locked up, but I found his behavior rather intriguing. The few staff that monitor him had commented how 1236 likes to play "games" with them, where he hides in the room and only comes out when the staff are fully in the room, that is when he reveals himself and attacks them.
He has still retained his cognitive thinking but his craving for violence is what makes the others reluctant to leave him around any of the children, that is why I suggested we leave 1222, as well as his brothers, to monitor him closely from being alone with any of the children. As long as we keep him well entertained he shouldn't have the need to act out, he wouldn't dare bite at the hand that feeds him.
Conclusion:
So long as he doesn't harm any of the children, have him remain within the Game Station for further monitoring.
I believe Leith Pierre will find some use in him.
Signature: Dr. Harley Sawyer
-
"Hi, kids! Welcome to the Game Station! I'm Stella, and we've got four super-duper fun games to play! These little tests show us just how crazy strong and smart you are! Follow Mommy Long Legs down the stairs, and she'll show you our latest game! See you in a bit!" Mommy giggled to herself as the children ran around her arms and legs, a few even grabbing her by one of her hands to tug her toward the entrance that read "Scavenger," where the four Kings resided.
"Come along now, children. We have four new friends to meet!" They all cheered in excitement—new games were always so thrilling. "Stay close to Mommy now; we don't want any of you getting lost."
"Yes, Mommy!" Unlike the other three games, "Scavenger" took place in a grand theatre that had the children marveling in awe. They all gasped and huddled around Mommy when the lights turned off before, one by one, they switched back on, leading up toward the stage to reveal four beautifully decorated boxes with a symbol on each: a black spade and club, and a red heart and diamond. The children approached the stage eagerly, waiting to see what would happen. They let out startled screams when the lids of the boxes burst open in a flurry of confetti and four figures jumped out of their respective boxes, the curtains behind them opening and a band started playing circus music.
"Guests!"
"We have guests!"
"What a surprise!"
"A pleasant surprise!" All four figures bowed their heads, and when they lifted them, they wore tragedy and comedy masks with different markings. The owners of the club and heart boxes wore the tragedy masks, while the spade and diamond owners wore the comedy masks. Over the mask’s sockets, their respective symbols were painted in either red or black. "Allow us to introduce ourselves, dear children! We are the Royal Court's Four Jesters!"
"I am the Royal Jester of Spades!"
"I am the Royal Jester of Clubs!"
"I am the Royal Jester of Hearts!"
"And I am the Royal Jester of Diamonds!" As they announced their names, they bowed once more, and the children clapped excitedly. The Jester of Spades was about to speak, but the Jester of Diamonds stepped forward and spoke ahead of him. Though Spade was technically the leader of the Jester Brothers, Diamond had a way with words that captivated the children far more. Despite being the "eldest" of the four, Spade's role often faded into the background because of Diamond's influence "We have a game for you, children, that'll put your minds to the test! Are you ready for such a task?"
"We're ready!" The children’s enthusiasm made Diamond laugh. He snapped his fingers, and more lights illuminated the theatre, revealing several boxes scattered throughout.
"This game is simple," he continued as he and his brothers flipped over their own boxes and reached inside to pull out cards.
"Each box has a symbol corresponding to our suits."
"Inside the boxes, you'll find a card with the same suit…"
"Or you'll find a nasty surprise waiting for you," the four jesters said in unison, laughing together.
"When you find four cards of the same suit—"
"You must then find the matching brother."
"We will be hiding in our boxes somewhere in the theatre."
"And the winner is the one who finds all four cards and one of us first!" With that, the jesters slammed the lids on their boxes shut and stepped forward. "Shall this game begin?"
"Yeah!" The children shouted with glee. The jesters tossed their cards into the air, which exploded into a cloud of smoke. When it cleared, both they and their boxes had vanished.
"What are you waiting for, children? Go and find them!" Mommy cheered. The children quickly scattered, heading toward the many boxes. Mommy stayed behind, keeping her eyes on the boxes bearing the diamond suit. She knew the brothers had left out an important detail: they were constantly moving, slipping unseen from box to box, and occasionally stealing cards from the children to keep the game going. Sometimes, they even hid in the wrong suit’s box just to pop out and surprise the children, snatching more cards. But it was the Jester of Diamonds she kept the closest watch on. He was the most unpredictable of them all—no matter how hard she tried to track his movements, he always stayed one step ahead.
Mommy wasn’t allowed to interfere with the games unless a child's life was at stake—but Diamond knew better than to cross that line. He didn’t want this game to end prematurely. When a couple of screams rang out, Mommy tensed—only to sigh in relief when she saw it was one of the "nasty surprises": small marionette dolls modeled after the four brothers, similar to the Mini-Huggies. The dolls would jump out of boxes to scare the children and sometimes snatch a card before retreating. As a few of the brothers popped out of their boxes, there was still no sign of Diamond. He always liked to play the waiting game.
"Mommy, Mommy! Look, I found all four cards!" A child ran up, waving their cards excitedly. Mommy clapped her hands to congratulate them, but froze when she saw they were diamond cards.
"Oh, how wonderful. Now you must find the Royal Jester of Diamonds to win! You better hurry—he’s the trickiest one to find." The child gasped and dashed off to search for the diamond-suited box. The jesters always knew when a child had gathered four cards and would either hide or keep the game going by relocating to a distant box. A sudden scream drew Mommy’s attention. It was the same child, being dragged into one of the boxes. She rushed over and flung the lid open—only to find it completely empty.
Panic gripped her until a chorus of cheers rose from the stage. She turned to see the four brothers emerging from the diamond box, with the Jester of Heart at the bottom holding up Spade and Club. At the top stood Diamond, the victorious child perched on his shoulder.
"And we have a winner!" Diamond announced. "Please, give a round of applause to our lucky champion, who found all four of my cards!"
"Yay, you did it!"
"Good job finding him!"
"That was really hard!" The other children chimed in. Diamond gently set the child on the stage and took the four cards from them. With a swift motion, he transformed the cards into a golden crown. The children gasped as he placed it on his head. "We have a new King of the Court!" The four jesters bowed low before the child.
"Whoa, a king!"
"He's the king!"
"I'm jealous."
"Maybe we can try again another day."
"Ahaha! We’re so glad you liked our game," Heart said, rising.
"But there are still more games to play—"
"Like Musical Memory—"
"And Wack-a-Wuggy—"
"And Statues!" The children giggled excitedly. Mommy called them to follow her to the next game, casting one last wary glance at Diamond as his eyes lingered on her retreating figure.
"You shouldn't keep the rest of our friends waiting!" The four jesters bid the children goodbye, but Heart, Club, and Spade couldn't help but notice how all the children flocked around Diamond the most. It was irritating—no matter how hard they tried to appeal to the children, Diamond's natural charisma always made him the favorite. They just couldn't compete. "Now, children, follow Mommy out so she can lead you to where our friend Bunzo Bunny is waiting for you!" Diamond waved at Mommy, and she quickly ushered the children away, peeling the ones clinging to him off with a gentle touch.
"Mister Diamond is right! We still have three more games to play, so let's move on to Musical Memory!" Mommy’s voice was cheerful, but she could practically feel Diamond's gaze on her back as they walked away. She chose not to comment on it.
"You did it again, Diamond!" Spade's voice hissed with frustration the moment they were alone. It infuriated them that Diamond was so good at masking his true feelings—his unreadable nature only made it worse. Spade growled as Diamond shrugged nonchalantly. "Oh, don’t just shrug your shoulders. You know exactly what you did." Diamond scoffed, his tone laced with mock innocence.
"Please. I do a lot of things. If you want me to take responsibility for whatever's made you angry, you’ll have to be more specific." He took a step forward, and Heart quickly moved between them, stopping Spade from doing anything rash. "Come now, use your big boy words and tell the class what’s upset you." Spade’s hand clenched into a tight fist before he jabbed a finger toward Diamond’s face.
"You know I’m the leader, Diamond! I’m the one who’s supposed to explain the rules when the children enter!" Diamond chuckled, casually swatting Spade’s hand aside.
"Oh? Is that so? But if you’re the leader, why am I the face of the Royal Jester Brothers?" He gestured toward a nearby banner depicting the four of them. Despite their central grouping, Diamond’s colors were more vibrant and bold compared to the others. "I don't mean to step on your toes, brother. I just think you need to be more creative with your words. We’re jesters! We’re meant to wow and amaze the crowd—to entertain and make them laugh! You should work on your approach." Heart nodded thoughtfully.
"He’s right, Spade."
"Wha—"
"He’s got that charm we lack, dude," Club added with a shrug. "We mostly just follow his lead or stick to the script."
"But… I’m not boring, right?" Spade’s voice wavered, Heart and Club exchanged an awkward glance.
"Ehh…" Diamond laughed, the bells on his hat jingling with the motion.
"Don’t fret. You can just leave it to me! Our game has only just opened—there’s a lot of pressure on your shoulders. Let me share that burden with you. You don’t have to worry about capturing the audience—I can handle that. Or if you’d prefer, I can give you some tips on how to really win them over."
"Yeah, he’s been helping us out too," Club added.
"You shouldn’t blame him, Spade," Heart said gently. "The children had fun and loved our performance. Isn’t that what really matters?"
"I… I suppose you’re right." Spade’s frustration deflated, and he sighed.
"It’s fine," Diamond said with a dismissive wave. "You probably just got overwhelmed." The tension dissolved quickly, but as Diamond turned away, his expression beneath the mask twisted into one of quiet disgust. Pathetic. Spade’s need for attention was so disappointing. Diamond genuinely didn’t understand why Spade was so worked up—he thought he was doing him a favor by taking control of the narrative.
"Diamond!" A sharp voice called from below. Diamond’s head perked up, and he peered over the theatre’s upper railing to spot Leith Pierre, Head of Innovation and CEO of Playtime Co. "Get down here. I have a job for you." Diamond’s sinister mask glistened under the spotlight. A job? Intriguing. He leapt over the railing, landing gracefully on the backrest of a chair. Leith grimaced and edged away from the jester’s too-close, too-creepy face.
"How can I help you, Mister Pierre?" Diamond asked, his arms swinging loosely in front of him.
"There are a few… 'rodents' running around who’ve gotten into something they shouldn’t have. I need you to locate and dispose of them. I don’t care how you do it—just make sure they’re no longer a problem. And keep it quiet. We don’t want our guests knowing we have a pest issue." A shiver ran down Leith’s spine as Diamond tilted his head, his mask’s empty sockets somehow conveying an unsettling glee.
"However I want?" Leith cleared his throat, taking another step back.
"Yes, yes. Play with them for all I care—just make sure no one sees."
"You can count on me, sir." Diamond bowed low, his tone dripping with mock formality.
"Right… You’re the only one I trust for this sort of cleanup," Leith muttered.
The Jester Brothers shared some abilities with Mommy Long Legs—though their limbs didn’t stretch quite as far, they could extend their arms a fair distance. Their arms and legs are capable of rapid extension and retraction and can effectively evade harm by contouring their body and bouncing away in a spring-like fashion. With this in mind, Diamond slipped easily into the factory’s ventilation system, crawling through pipes and squeezing into crevices with eerie grace. This was why he behaved, why he didn’t lash out when Spade overstepped. The real fun began when he was set loose.
The thrill of the hunt was irresistible—tracking down the employees no one would miss was his favorite game of all.
This is what happens when you wander where you don’t belong, the man thought when Leith gave him this job after catching him in a restricted area within the Game Station. Talk about being in the wrong place at the wrong time. As he ventured deeper into the factory, the voices and sounds of the other staff grew distant, their echoes bouncing off the cold, industrial walls. He could practically hear the hum of water through the pipes and the scurrying steps of mice. This was fine—he liked working on his own anyway. All he had to do was fix the burst pipes and be on his merry little way.
When he located the pipes, he quickly got to work, the silence around him becoming a source of comfort compared to the loud screaming of children playing in the Game Station. The thought of children made him think of his own family waiting for him at home. He could still remember the looks on their faces when he told them he was working for Playtime Co. It wasn’t a glamorous job—he didn’t get to interact with the toys or mascots—just a simple engineering role where he fixed whatever was broken. As he continued to work, he began to faintly hear a subtle sound: tapping. He couldn’t quite make out what it was, but he knew it wasn’t water dripping onto the pipes. It sounded more… metallic.
He shook his head, deciding to ignore it in favor of finishing the task at hand, but the feeling of being watched began to creep over him.
The tapping didn’t cease. In fact, it almost seemed like it was playing a sort of beat. If he focused hard enough, he could almost recognize it—it sounded like the music that played when you entered the Jester's Theatre. With that realization, his nerves tightened. He picked up his flashlight, shining it around even though he wasn’t sure what he was looking for.
He swallowed thickly, his mind drifting back to the gossip and rumors his fellow engineers spread just to spook each other—how staff would disappear without a trace when they ventured too deep into the factory. It always started with distant tapping, mimicking the music from the Game Station. Then came the bells. You knew you were in danger when you heard jingling bells—subtle meant you were still safe, but if they were close… that meant whatever was making the sound was near.
No. No, he was just being paranoid. Rumors were just rumors. Right?
He inhaled deeply, trying to calm the rapid beating of his heart, but his breath hitched when the bells started—and they were close. Too close.
Forget this. Mister Pierre can shove it—I’m getting the heck out of here.
In his panic, he left his equipment behind, sprinting back down the hall from which he’d come. The tapping, the bells—what came next? What came nex—
"Hahaha…~"
The laughter.
He’d been spotted.
He risked a glance back and froze. Through the suffocating darkness, a faint glow stared back at him—two points of light, fixed directly on him. Those rumors weren’t rumors after all. Fear surged through him, and without a second thought, he ran.
The laughter grew louder, bouncing off the walls and ringing through the corridors. The noise behind him kept getting closer, no matter how fast he ran. Whatever was chasing him was fast—too fast for it to be human. Was this why people had been disappearing? Was he next? Had Mister Pierre sent him here on purpose, knowing what would happen?
He turned a corner sharply—and collided hard with a pipe.
The impact knocked him to the ground, his vision swimming as pain blossomed across his forehead. Dazed, he pressed a hand to his head, trying to quell the throbbing ache. The sound of bells drew closer, the metallic jingling slow and deliberate.
He didn’t dare look up.
"Awww… what’s the matter?" a sing-song voice cooed from above him. "Did you fall down? Poor little thing." a whimper escaped his lips, his body trembling as he fought to crawl backward.
"P-please… please don’t… I-I didn’t even want to be here… I—"
"Oh, but you are here!" his interrupted gleefully, the bells around on his hat jingling with every movement. "And you’ve been so very rude, sneaking around where you shouldn’t be. Tsk, tsk. What should I do with you?"
"Please… I-I have a family… kids…" his voice cracked, tears spilling down his face. For a moment, there was silence. Then a soft giggle.
"Ohhh, I love it when they beg." The voice was right in front of him now, and he felt a cold hand grasp his chin, forcing his head up. The fallen flashlight managed to reveal the figure above him and there he saw the Jester of Diamonds strung up within the pipes, his limbs curling around them to keep his body suspended "Beg some more. It’s my favorite part." his laughter rung out again as his free arm wrapped around the engineer, caging him within his arm then hoisting off the ground.
"N-No, please! I beg of you, d-don't hurt me..." his mask slowly lifted away, revealing something far more monstrous than any toy should have been. The face beneath the mask was a grotesque parody of a jester’s grin—wide and stretched too far, with jagged, uneven teeth glistening with saliva and fresh blood. Drool dripped from the corners of his mouth, mixing with the crimson that stained his lips. The smell of iron was sharp and suffocating.
The last thing the man saw was that terrible, twisted smile lunging toward him.
Later, the sound of gnawing filled the corridor. Diamond crouched over the broken body, his sharp teeth tearing into flesh with wet, squelching sounds. Blood dripped down his face and hands as he fed with terrifying enthusiasm, his shoulders shaking with occasional giggles of delight. When he finally stood, his grin was wide and satisfied.
"Delicious," he whispered to no one in particular, his voice thick with amusement.
When he left, he made sure to block off the area so no other human employee would stumble upon the "mess" he’d made. Speaking of mess, he glanced down at himself and sighed at the blood soaking his costume. Returning to the theatre through the ventilation shaft, he slinked into the dressing room and breathed a sigh of relief when he found it empty. The company was kind enough to provide different costumes for him and his brothers, and he quickly changed into a fresh one, trashing the bloodied outfit without a second thought.
Humming a cheerful tune, he left the dressing room in search of Mister Pierre.
"Look, look! It's the Jester of Diamonds!"
"Hi Jester! Your game was fun to play!"
"I hope we can play it again!" Diamond waved at the children as he walked through the Game Station toward the train, where he spotted Leith alongside one of the scientists. Wanting to reach them quicker, he used his powerful legs to spring himself over the crowd of children, eliciting gasps and laughter. Stretching his arms out with an exaggerated flourish, he cushioned his fall and landed gracefully right in front of Leith, his bells jingling softly as he straightened up.
"Ah! Just the toy I was hoping to see!" Diamond gives a dramatic bow, but Leith waves his hand to dismiss him. "Enough of the flair—did you do what I asked?" Both he and the scientist notice how some blood dripped out from behind Diamond’s mask. The jester chuckled softly, his tongue peeking out to lick it clean.
"Yes, sir. The rodents have been exterminated—you just need someone to clean up the mess." Leith smiled and clapped his hands.
"Wonderful! I'll be sure to reward you later." Leith said with satisfaction but Diamond shook his head.
"There should be no need, sir. My reward was the fun I had while playing my game of hide and seek."
"Ah hah, right. Well, you can go back to playing with the children. I'll be sure to keep sending you more 'playmates' to keep you entertained." Leith could see the way the jester practically glowed at the prospect of more “games.” Satisfied, Diamond left the two men and returned to his brothers and Mommy, seamlessly slipping back into their playful routine. Leith sighed to himself. "As much as he freaks me out, he's almost as handy as Boxy Boo." Harley Sawyer chuckled.
"Indeed, but he's far more intriguing than 1160. He makes a game out of it, no matter what you ask of him," he said, watching how Diamond played with the children alongside his brothers and Mommy. "What a masterpiece he turned out to be."