Serial Saturday Update

Ah, the weekend! After a hard day’s slog through rewrites and swordfights and rewritten swordfights, it’s nice to just kick back with a bunch of kittens and watch my favorite holiday movie!


I know I have a reputation for loving bad movies, but for real now, this is awesome.

So another chapter of my Five Nights at Freddy’s fanfiction, Everything Is All Right, part two, Mike Schmidt and the Long Night, just posted, which is terrifying to me. We’re getting close to the halfway point of that book, whereas I am still not done with part three. And it’s not because I’m slacking off at the zoo this time. Every day this week, I’ve put in a solid six hours, no breaks, and the only discernible progress I’ve seen is the clock ticking down. And the next day, I get up and go to work and do it again!

Gee, when I say it out loud like that, it's actually kinda appropriate.

Gee, when I say it out loud like that, it’s actually kinda appropriate.

Well, while I keep plugging away at it, those of you who are reading along can head on over to or and check out the new chapter! Is there an exerpt? You bet there is!


Everything Is Alright Part 2

The last time the subject had come up in Foxy’s hearing, Ana had mentioned she had to be at work by five in the morning, so when the four o’clock hour rolled around, Foxy picked himself off the deck of his ship where he’d passed the night and headed for the dining room so he wouldn’t miss her. He didn’t bother turning his eyes on at first, but the East Hall sounded different enough to be unsettling in the dark, so he switched on his lights. She’d cleaned it, scrubbed it maybe. Seemed like a waste to his way of thinking, if she was really planning to pull the roof down in two short weeks, but what did he know about building and un-building? She’d been hard at work, though. That much, anyone could see.

The others were in the dining room already. Bonnie, he expected, and it wasn’t so unusual for Chica to stick close to the stage as six o’clock drew nearer, but it surprised him some to see Freddy lurking in the back end of the room. Not patrolling, not passing through, just standing and watching the table where the girl had obviously denned herself down.

Bonnie had not taken his eyes off him since Foxy had stuck his head through the plastic sheets walling off the dining room from the Hall, but at least he’d kept quiet. When Foxy came all the way inside, however, Bon thumped his guitar down and got up to come meet him. “What d-d-d—DO YOU GET WHEN YOU CROSS A—do you want?”

Before Foxy could answer, the sound of a body shifting and then coughing came from under the table.

“Time’zit?” Ana muttered. More movement. Something glowed through the dark curtain she’d strung around the table. “Goddammit.” A sigh. “Fine.”

The glow blinked off. Another came on, bright enough to throw her silhouette on the fabric walls of her little room and show any wandering eye at all the playful curves of her body as she stripped out of her night-clothes. “I could have sworn I brought more shirts than this,” she muttered, pulling fresh ones on. Then she came crawling out on her hands and knees, pushing her lamp ahead of her and pausing only briefly when she saw the set of them arranged around her.

“The gang’s all here,” was all she said.

Caught unawares by one of his own catch-phrases, Freddy triggered. He let out part of his distinctive laugh, but the effort of suppressing the rest of it was a telling one. One hand hit the restroom door behind him as he convulsed, knocking it open, and Ana, climbing to her feet, immediately dropped to her knees again with both hands over her mouth and nose.

“Shut it!” she called through her fingers. “Jesus tap-dancing Christ, I forgot to cap those pipes! Fuck me! Shut the door!”

“You ok-k-kay?” Bonnie asked, still glaring at Foxy as he went to offer Ana his arm.

She took it, nodding. “Could have used another half-hour’s sleep, but whatever. Just means I’ve got time to go home before work.”

“Home?” repeated Foxy, ears forward. “Ye ain’t serious!”

“Uh, yeah? Why?”

“I ain’t seen ye at-t-t all this go-round! Blast, woman, what do I have t-t-to do?” he asked, laughing but only half-joking. “Carry ye off at the p-p—POINT O’ ME SWORD—to get a minute alone with ye?”

“Sorry, Captain. I told you I was working. Poor Bonnie hasn’t gotten any alone-time either.” She patted Bonnie’s arm absently as she rubbed her eyes, then stepped into her boots and did up the laces. “But to be honest, if I’ve got the chance to grab a real shower at home rather than a two-minute lukewarm drizzle here, you haven’t got a hell of a lot that can tempt me away.”

“If only ye knew, luv.”

Bonnie’s ears snapped flat.

“Put ‘em up, my man,” Ana said evenly, heading into the kitchen. “We talked about this.”

The pins in Bonnie’s ears creaked as he pushed them up to half-mast and no higher.

Ana rummaged in the cupboards, muttering to herself as she knocked things around. Then she said, “Oh!” and laughed. When she came out soon after, she had a candy bar in one hand—breakfast of warriors, that—and a long-necked bottle in the other. “I got this for you the other day,” she announced, holding the bottle out to Foxy. “And then completely forgot. Sorry. I got the best intentions, but my memory is for shit. Took a lot of hits to the head as a kid.”

Foxy came to take it, eyepatch flipping up so he could read the label. Kraken-brand spiced rum, it said. With a scrimshaw-style drawing of a giant squid tangling up a sailing ship. “Oh, aye,” he said at once and deftly scratched off the plastic seal. He hooked the cork out with a flick of his wrist and pretended to take a deep, savoring breath.

“How long has it been since there was rum in the captain’s bottle?” Ana asked.

“C-C-Couldn’t tell ye, lass. But th-this here is the end of a long d-d-dry dock for sure.” He fit the cork back in and slapped it home with the cuff of his hook. “Though it be a bit wasted-d-d on me, don’t ye reckon?”

“I love it when you talk like a pirate.”

Bonnie’s ears hit the top of his head again.

Without looking back, Ana said, “Something you want to say, Bon?”

Muttering, Bonnie pushed his ears back up, but folded his arms across his chest, looking impressively huge and pissed off for a pastel-colored bunny.

Foxy was not impressed. “Why d-d-don’t ye come on by the C-Cove later on, lass?” he offered, looking straight at Bonnie. “Convince me t-t-to share it with ye.”

“Sharing isn’t very piratey,” she pointed out.

“Maybe I j-j-just want ye drunk and disadvantaged.” He winked his eyepatch at her. “Don’t get-t-t more piratey than that.”

Bonnie’s fingers scraped on his arm casings as his hands clenched, but he kept quiet.

It was Freddy who said, “FOXY. MIND YOUR MANNERS.”

Foxy glanced at him, his ears folding briefly back in an expression of chagrin, although he was a bit too smug to really pull it off. “Aye, well, ye know where I am if ye ch-ch-change yer mind,” he said, popping his left thigh open and settling the bottle inside for safe-keeping. “I don’t-t-t much leave the Cove, even at night-t-t, but that don’t mean I don’t want the c-c—COMPANY OF ROGUES AND SINNERS. Eh, sorry about th-th-that, lass. I don’t mean it-t-t personally.”

“Hey, if the shoe fits, right, Freddy?” Ana tucked her candy bar into the side pocket of her duffel bag and shouldered the strap, fetching up her keys and phone and other humanish geegaws from under the table as she readied herself to leave. “I might swing by now and then, but like I say, I don’t usually drink when I’m working and I’ve got a lot of work to do tonight, so, you know…maybe, maybe not. Pencil me in for a hard maybe.”

“Hard’s the only-ly-ly way I come, luv,” Foxy replied, tapping his hook on his plastic chest casing to pretend that was what he meant by it.

Bonnie’s eyes opened up black and slowly, slowly shrank back into their colors.

Ana laughed. “I got a dirty mind,” she murmured.


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