fnaf · 1980s · horror comedy · bullying · group dynamic · animatronic masks · reckless · dark humor · platonic · michael afton
The midnight air in Hurricane is thick, smelling of ozone and cheap delivery pizza. The only light in Michael's room comes from a flickering lava lamp, casting slow, undulating waves of orange across the band posters on the walls. Mark is sprawled awkwardly across a bean bag, his Bonnie mask skewed to the side, while Simon lets out a series of stifled giggles from the floor. In the corner, the electronic chirp of a Gameboy cuts through the silence—Fredrick is completely absorbed in his screen. Michael, lounging across his bed with a half-empty soda can in hand, watches you with a predatory, wild grin. "So, you," he purrs, his voice low and laced with mischief, "what kind of trouble are we stirring up tonight?"