There Are Two Other Asks In Our Inbox, And I Promise We're Not Ignoring Them, We Just Like Doodle Or

there are two other asks in our inbox, and i promise we're not ignoring them, we just like doodle or fic replying to Factory Rejects asks.

This server is the reason we've gone a little awol in the past weeks, and the reason we've fallen head-over-heels back into the Wonka fandom. Amazing people, fantastic discussion, and quite active. Would recommend!

Also for Systems: they have Pluralkit & a 'no using it to RP rule'. And it's proven itself to be a safe-space for CatCF fictives should you have any. People have spoken to our Vi, Mike, Dolly, & Bill and no-one's been weird about it.

Discord

Join the a world of pure imagination Discord Server!

A small server dedicated to anything and everything Charlie and the Chocolate Factory! | 76 members

It's the regular CATCF discord link drop! Hello and take a step into the a world of pure imagination! We talk about pretty much every version of catcf/wwatcf, create content, and more!!

We are a nice lil server and would love to have some more friends!!

CatCF Musical - Memento Mori

As the famed chocolatier walks around its factory in a spiralling haze, lost to yet another self-debate of right and wrong and temptation and death, the hoards of Oompa Loompa dance away, a songbird serenade to the subconscious:

E v e r y b o d y L i k e s Y o u

Despite the other art, our musical wonka isn't a shitpost.

He's pretty complex, we just haven't posted about him yet. But he came about from the thought of "why are all Wonkas tall and thin? not all of them are going to have the metabolism of the gods." So suddenly our brain does its fixation thing and it turns out it was actually an alter we were taking inspiration from and we have this fabulous, complicated, messed up fellow owning our attention. This Wonka (He/She/It) is very prone to stress & spirals, and quite often finds himself obsessing over his own mortality. The way she presents herself on the tour, you'd mostly think she's just a bit of an asshole... until you realise she alliterates more when she's stressed, she keeps popping these little medicine candies in her mouth, occasionally she makes mildly concerning comments about death and temptation, and there's a Lazurus Room in the basement. "Memento Mori, Charlie".

Closing the factory was an overnight choice after she became paranoid that the world was out to get her. The tour was a choice after she obsessed over her own death during a sleepless spiral. This Wonka doesn't even want an heir, but it's yet another backup plan for when the night finally claims her. So he sets up a tour, and he trials them to the ultimate test: Temptation.

And when all is said and done, months into moving into the factory, Charlie learns the truth...

He looks to his new mentor, and he asks "You planned it, didn't you?" And she replies. "The hand of fate needs an arm, and I simply volunteered."

And that's not even getting into all the little details, nor the other characters: with such hits as Esports Streamer Mike Teavee only got his ticket cause 'Chat said it would be PogChamp', Tiktoker Violet & her Less Successful Tiktoker mom, Charlie Needs Therapy because his Mentor Refuses Therapy, Molly Bucket trying to protect her son and Accidentally Falling in Love With A Very Broken Person (aka 'Mr. Wonka is your dad now, Charlie'), the Oompa Loompa Night Shift, and Also Miranda Is Here And Wonka Pushed Her In. we love him a lot

WW&tCF (OC) - FR: Class War - 'Mr. Pratt'

Meet Mr. Cornelius Twat Pratt: teacher of the 'Class for Excellence' (it's just the upper set), Mr. Turkentine's long-standing rival, and avid John Lennon kinnie. also he's designed after matt berry.

There are two things that piss this man off more than anything: 1) That the Beatles split up (of which he is in a support group for) & 2) That Charlie Bucket, a member of Mr. Turkentine's class, won a Golden Ticket and the entire bloody Wonka factory.

Also, Mini-fic for the art:

Pratt stood at the front of his pristinely perfect classroom, nothing out of place but the slightly unkempt children sitting in front of him. His shorter-than-average bulky frame was far more apparent when measured up to the height of the blackboard, but what he lacked in stature, he made up for with a presence that took up more space than it had right to. "Good morning, Class. And Congratulations." His words had an odd cadence to them, almost like they weren't being pronounced correctly... "You are the chosen ones. Those deemed worthy enough for a chance to be the best. And if you're in my class, you Will be the best." His lips unfurled into a toothy, smug grin. "Why?" The mentor stretched out an arm, equipped- oddly- with a conductor's baton instead of the usual pointer or ruler. With a loud clack, Pratt slammed it against the blackboard, the words 'Win.' written gorgeously in cursive chalk. "Because you have one purpose in life: to Win."

Pratt lowered his baton, mouth forming an almost pout, eyebrow raised. "Failure is not on the curriculum. Perhaps for other classes- 7A, 7C, and damn well sure 7B" a slight growl slipped into tone for the last, but very quickly dissipated. "Never 7S."

In his white turtleneck and light blue-grey suit, he looked more like a fancy CEO giving a pep-talk than the teacher of a rather lower-tier comprehensive school. Pratt closed his eyes, and broke into an almost mocking tone. " 'How am I, a small weakly child, to raise to such ranks' you may sing out in desperation. Follow me, and you. will. find. your. answer." His grin dropped, a serious tone, and outstretched his arms, "So long as you are in this class, I am your God. Your Messiah. And if you fail me, you'll surmount to nothing. Understand?" As he looked out at the children he would teach for the forthcoming years, a chant of 'yes, sir' perfectly in tandem- likely out of intimidation, albeit- he could only feel power coursing through his body. Turkentine stood no chance.

So we made our own musical wonka...