Portal Breach: The Collision of Worlds :: v.4.0

    just wait



    Posts : 68
    Join date : 2017-08-29
    Location : outer district
    Level : 6

    Character Sheet
    Defense Bar:
    0/0  (0/0)
    Health Bar:
    110/110  (110/110)
    Stamina Bar:
    16/16  (16/16)

    just wait

    Post by Springtrap on Sun Sep 10, 2017 9:53 pm

    SEPTEMBER 4TH | 18:50 | YEAR 8

    What a terribly boring place.

    The place called the "sanctuary" was impenetrable. Gasoline and fire would not set it ablaze, and the individuals inside did not burn. Instead, he was trapped inside a make-shift prison by a woman of tanned skin and bright eyes, demanding him to cease his attempts of murder. All the animatronic wished for was retribution; his plans had been interrupted, and all of his hard work and fighting of phantoms of the past had gone without reward. It was irksome, spending so much time gathering what he needed... his ritual. The ritual to summon power and control. But it seemed not meant to be.

    Instead, he was stuck here. Here in this terrible, safe place. Arson and murder in the city weren't to be taken lightly--Springtrap would be locked up, worse than a rock prison--and he had little idea what to even do in such a place. If there was nothing he could do in the aspect of killing the fools that brought him here, then...

    "Maybe you should try some flowers."

    The daemon.

    He did not catch the creature's name, nor did he particularly care to know, but when Springtrap was sent to "time-out" in the garden, the surrounding flowers and flora felt... welcoming. The daemon suggested if, his plans of causing chaos did not go well, there was always focusing on something else, and gardening was hinted at. But the animatronic had no home, no sanctuary of his own, and no place he could cultivate or grow such flowers. The fact that he was even entertaining the idea! What a stupid notion...


    But what was there to do?

    Planning on the down-low his revenge would be fine. But in the meantime...

    "i... am nothing"

    Without purpose, Springtrap was nothing more than a hunk of junk that smelled like a corpse--which apparently he had inside of him, unbeknownst to him prior--and couldn't do much about that. Removing the corpse would prove difficult and... at this point in time, it seemed to help keep his shambling form together, as odd as it sounded.

    "what the fuck am i doing" the robot groaned, his surroundings that of a slummy alleyway. To his left, a trashcan, where he belonged, he felt, and to the right, a few tires that had rotted away over time. Down the road, the broken and dilapidated building he first arrived in peered from a corner as if to taunt, or even beckon back. The rain would be starting soon, clouds forming in the skies as the sun was setting and becoming obscure, the red and orange fading to a grey overcast. The water would seep into whatever was left of his circuitry, and rust even further.

    The half broken umbrella obtained from the catwoman that prodded him in the optic with it came in handy as he held what was left of the handle, holding it above his head as he began his trek. Body groaning and creaking with wear with each step, Springtrap made his way back to where he started, deciding to stay there... just for a little while. The company of others... he couldn't handle that. Handle the noise... the people... the small, cramped space... Ironic. Once, he preferred small spaces. It was like feeling safe and enclosed in a little private bubble, with the outside world being too large, too scary...

    Stepping inside the broken warehouse, his optics ticked as they turned in all directions, slowly taking in the surroundings. This would work for his own personal bubble... his own sanctuary... For now, he'd stay here, and think, and plan, and wait.

    That was all he could do.

      Current date/time is Tue Mar 26, 2019 10:38 am