Bran Royce
SPOILERX
Nickname: N/A
Age: 23
Occupation: Mechanic
Birthday: February 28th
Why He Took The Job: Needs more money.
Personality: Charming and friendly. Loves kids. Honest to a fault and
loathes inherently dishonest people. Also blunt and to-the-point. He rarely says things he doesn't mean. Isn't afraid to call out someone for lying or being unfair. Talented with machines. Has two other jobs--one as motorcycle mechanic and the other as a tattoo artist. Likes music, food, and animals. Dislikes liars, entitled people, and pork.
SPOILERX
Species: Grizzly Bear
Nicknames: Doesn't like nicknames.
Birthday: January 12th
Personality: Appears to be a perfect gentleman. Articulate.
Extremely intelligent. Polite to a fault, even to those he openly dislikes. Crafty. Dislikes adult humans, men in particular. Hates being touched by human hands. Overprotective of his family to the point of being tyrannical. Has a violent temper, but not a quick one. Loves books, children, and music. Dislikes adults (especially men), rule-breakers, and ignorance.
Best Friends: Bonnie, Chica, Marionette
Not On Good Terms With: Foxy, all of the Toys
SPOILERX
Species: Red Fox
Nicknames: Captain, Cap'n
Birthday: February 16th
Personality: Quick-tempered and ornery, but sweet and caring to those he calls friend. Despises adult men. Blunt, brash, and
very opinionated. Has the curiosity of about twenty cats and is particularly curious about the outside world. Has difficulty respecting authority. Rumored to be rather dangerous. Has a tendency to bite when startled or if he's in pain. Loves children, singing, and drawing. Dislikes adults (especially men), thunderstorms, and bullying.
Best Friend: Bonnie
Not On Good Terms With: Freddy
SPOILERX
Species: Flemish Giant Rabbit
Nickname: Bon
Birthday: October 25th
Personality: Lackadaisical, caustic, and a bit of a bully. Not the most pleasant of creatures. Tends to use his large size to push others around, both playfully and not-so-playfully. Likes to make fun of anyone who's shorter than him (which is pretty much everyone). Believes he is the most talented singer and musician of the group and takes pride in his guitar work. Condescending and sarcastic. Is only really friendly to his family, and even then his behavior is poor. Has a sweeter and softer side very few people see. Loves music, animals, and video games. Dislikes adults (especially men), liars, and cowards.
Best Friends: Foxy, Freddy, Chica
Not On Good Terms With: All of the Toys (especially Toy Bonnie)
"He's...he's
filthy."
Two members of the cleaning crew seemed to be gossiping as they swept the floors in the main room. They were just a few short feet away from the stage where the animatronic band stood. The curtains were wide open, as they always were whenever the cleaning crew was present. The innocently lifeless animatronics were completely still, heads drooping ever so slightly and eyes devoid of any light.
"Dude,
no." The eldest of the two cleaning crew members stared at his coworker as if he'd suddenly sprouted a second head. "We can't touch the bear. That thing's
dangerous!"
"Dangerous?" The younger man guffawed, leering with amusement at the robot in question. "It's a
robot! And it's
off, isn't it? Look at it. It's so
dirty! Somebody should clean it!" He...wasn't wrong. While the other two members of the band were clean as a whistle, the bear animatronic was covered with dust and grit. He certainly wasn't a pretty sight, which was puzzling considering this was supposed to be the mascot of the pizzeria.
"Dude," the older cleaner hissed through his teeth. "We're gonna get fired if we lay
one finger on that nasty thing. Didn't you read your contract?"
"That old thing?" The younger cleaner laughed. "People actually
read those?"
"Yeah. They do." This was a third voice. The manager, a bulky man in his forties with a strong New York accent, loomed over the two cleaners. "And you won't touch that bear with a ten foot pole if you know what's good for ya. Your contracts state that the rabbit and the chicken can be cleaned, but the bear's off-limits. Got that?" Sufficiently cowed by their superior, the two shuffled off to continue their sweeping. The manager watched them go, readjusting his tie. Once they were out of earshot he reached into his pocket and fished out a small notebook. Using a ballpoint pen he then pulled from within the breast pocket of his shirt the man scribbled something down. Most likely something unsavory about the two cleaning crew members. They wouldn't last very long, it seemed.
"Hey. New night guard." He glanced in her direction, but only briefly before turning in the direction of the stage. "You're early." ...Did anyone else notice that? That deliberately slow panning of deep sapphire eyes the moment those two fateful words--
night guard--passed through his lips. "Gonna be stuck in that cramped office from midnight till six in the morning, so stretch your legs. Have a look around." A mysterious light glinted in his eyes. "Introduce yourself to the band, get to know your new office space--that kind of thing. Just stay out of Pirate Cove. It's dark as sin in there. The lights don't work anymore, so chances are pretty good that you'll trip over some piece of junk or something and bust your head open."
The manager turned to face the new night guard, flashing her a million dollar smile. "Grab some grub from the kitchen if you want. Employees eat for free. Just, ah...don't make a mess in there."