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Hey. Hello. Welcome. If you've made it this far, you're either a long-suffering fan of mine (bless your heart) or you saw the titles and thought, "Wow, that's unnecessarily dramatic," and felt compelled to click. Either way, thanks for being here.
You're holding the first piece of what is, honestly, an absolutely bonkers, very long project I've been working on, mostly in the middle of the night while I should be doing literally anything else. Look, I'm not going to lie: I am probably the most inconsistent writer you will ever meet. My attention span is a disaster, my deadlines are a suggestion, and half the time I’m pretty sure my coffee is just 90% regret. If you're expecting professional poise and perfect grammar, you're in the wrong place. But if you're here for existential dread, flower symbolism that makes zero sense until it suddenly makes all the sense, and a group of kids who are entirely too stressed, then settle in.
This entire saga is a complete relaunch of my account and my writing focus. To anyone who read The Unraveling of a Broken Stage—I am so, so sorry. Please erase that from your memory. This is the true beginning of the story, with a much clearer plan, a lot more angst, and way more symbolism.
This little set of stories, behind the glass of the petalarium, is the quiet, heavy start. It’s the origin point, the place where all the sorrow begins. Be warned: the focus for all of the prequels and the first two arcs of the bluebell requiem will be almost entirely on Freddy and Fredbear. If you're looking for Bonnie, Chica, and Foxy, they are coming! The third and final arc of the main series will finally bring the full team together. Patience is key here.
Finally, a quick housekeeping note: Since I am, well, me, I need one centralized place for all communication. Please keep tabs on this book specifically; all author's notes, scheduling updates, apologies for missed deadlines, and general rambling will be posted here.
Thank you for taking this ridiculous, very long, and very flower-themed journey with me. Be kind, enjoy the inevitable chaos, and seriously—don't trust anyone. Especially the ones who smile too much.
—Your perpetually caffeinated and mildly unstable author.
Moss