#I've never done one of these fancy quote posts before but I had to get this out of my system
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Hbomberguy, Pathologic is Genius and Here’s Why
Car Seat Headrest, Twin Fantasy (Those Boys)
#I don't even know what to tag this as#no one look at me no one fucking talk to me I am feeling so much on this wednesday night#hbomberguy#car seat headrest#twin fantasy#pathologic#flint types#I've never done one of these fancy quote posts before but I had to get this out of my system
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I've assembled some lesser-known quotes about Peter Cushing and Christopher Lee, I hope there's at least one in here that most of you have never seen before, though the super-fans among you have likely seen them all ;)
Lee fancies himself playing Aragorn, the archetypal heroic figure of the piece - he would probably be cast as Sauron, the Satanic figure in Tolkien's Middle Earth - but he feels that only a Walt Disney feature cartoon could possibly do justice to the work.
-"Cinemafantastique" Vol 3 No 1 (Fall 1973)
I knew that Lee wanted to play Gandalf when he jumped on board the LOTR movie trilogy, but I didn't know he apparently originally wanted to play Aragorn! My guess is that once he got older, he figured he would be better as Gandalf, though of course he didn't get it. But Lee as Aragorn... if he played the part in the late 50's, 60's or early 70's, I could see him pulling it off, what with his swordfighting abilities. Did he ever comment on the Ralph Bakshi adaptation?
After the liberation of Germany, he [Lee] visited a number of the concentration camps, including Dachau, a deeply disturbing experience which, he says, provided him with such a close-up view of the charnel house side of real life that he is unaffected by anything he sees or does on the screen.
-The Dracula Scrapbook, Peter Haining
I have decided now to tell a tale a bit "out of school" regarding the relationship between Peter and Helen Cushing, especially since this is a lady who remains a bit of a mystery to most Cushing fans - like a figure out of an Edgar Allan Poe tale, considering the way Peter lionized her as if she was indeed his "lost Lenore." During the latter part of 1977, I saw quite a bit of Christopher Lee as he and his family were living in Los Angeles where he played golf (and made the occasional film or television movie of the week.) One afternoon, we were at lunch, and the subject of Peter and his wife came up in conversation; Christopher leaned over to me and said, "You know David, Helen Cushing was a bit of a psychic vampire in life; she kept Peter very close. It was as if she could read his very thoughts before they had them. They really were soulmates of the first order; make no mistake about that! I don't think Helen ever really trusted me where Peter was concerned - even after he and I had made several films together. In fact, Helen used to say to me, "I know you think you are now bigger than my husband don't you?" Well, I just looked at her, smiled and said, "Well Helen, I am taller than Peter you know." Christopher felt that Peter had such guilt - imagined or not - about anything he might have done when they were married; if for example he ever found himself attracted to any of the Hammer glamour girls; whom he worked opposite, it all was now too much to bear. On the other hand, Vincent Price responded to Peter's intense mourning with his usual brand of humor. During the filming of Madhouse, he observed Peter discussing ways of communication from beyond the grave by perhaps installing a phone in the crypt; Vincent listened to all this and then replied with that unmistakably deadpan voice, "Well Peter, what if she's out?"
-David Del Valle, "Diabolique" #16
A few of you may recall seeing a quote posted here from Lee calling Helen a psychic vampire. I tried to find the source for that, but I couldn't. Instead I found this other version, possibly by the same person, which seems to give more insight about what Lee actually thought of Helen, and it comes off as much less harsh on his part than the other one.
A while back, I looked up interviews about the making of The Legend of the Seven Golden Vampires, and I swore I saw a magazine or something where Roy Ward Baker, the co-director of the movie along with the Shaw Brothers, said something about Cushing during the making of it to the effect of: “He was absolutely miserable, poor bugger.” But I forgot to take a screenshot of it then and for the life of me I couldn’t remember where it came from, I tried to look through my search history but couldn’t find it. I swear that I saw it, though!
Oh well. Next up is a quote about Lee and Cushing watching Looney Tunes together for the last time, get your tissues out...
In the early 90s I worked for Hammer Films and was asked to organise a voiceover recording for a Hammer Films documentary. Both Peter Cushing and Christopher Lee had agreed to work together one last time. Christopher Lee had asked me to organise one thing: a television and a VHS player in a private room and to have some alone time with Peter. After the recording, I cleared the studio and left Peter and Christopher alone with the TV. They hadn’t noticed that I was still at the mixing desk so I waited to see what they were going to be watching. I saw Count Dooku and Grand Moff Tarkin sit watching Looney Tunes cartoons – each doing perfect impersonations of Sylvester the Cat and Tweety Pie – all line perfect! I can’t remember exactly – but I think Christopher Lee was Tweety Pie and Peter Cushing was Sylvester.
-"Popbitch" 2015 Annual, the quote is just credited to a "JH", but IMDB lists a Jane Hughes as having worked as an assistant director in the Canterbury studio where Lee and Cushing recorded their voiceover, so this is most likely her. I personally would like to believe that Lee was playing Sylvester and Cushing was Tweety because Lee said he was always Sylvester to Cushing, and come on, Cushing MUST have been Tweety, that character would fit him like a glove!
For this final quote, I'm gonna do something different and copy-paste a whole interview done with Lee by a guy named John Exshaw about Cushing a year before the latter died for the magazine Cinema Retro, the interview being put up on their website. The formatting on the interview is all messed up, so I fixed the apostrophes and em-dashes and will put the whole thing here for your enjoyment.
I find this interview fascinating not so much for what Lee says about Cushing, but for how it implied he saw himself compared to Peter:
I didn’t meet him until we did the first Hammer movie. I’d seen him. Of course the thing which I’d seen which impressed me most, understandably, was 1984, which was remarkable. He was wonderful in that… Live TV! [shudders]
Total dedication; and this is the answer to why Peter Cushing is an actor. Total dedication. Total! The most professional actor I have ever worked with. And I’m not going to say underrated, because he isn’t underrated. He’s highly regarded all over the world as a brilliant actor, and deservedly so. The record shows that… Also, one thing that we do share, I think, more than anything, which is more important than anything else - I think we share the same dedication, I think we share professionalism, I think we share the same feelings about doing the best we can - one thing we certainly share is the same sense of humor, which of course the general public is totally unaware of. If they knew what we got up to on the set in every film we’ve made… the imitations that I used to do… Oh, we used to dance together in the rushes, yes; me made up as the Frankenstein creature, a sort of, a sort of, what do you call it - buck-and-wing dance, you know. And in years and years and years he and I have shared this idolatrous love of the Warner Brothers cartoons, you see, and Sylvester, and Tweetie Pie, and Yosemite Sam. And I’ve always imitated them, you see, and he’s done the same. And we used to do that on a set; people used to think we’d gone out of our minds, and we’d make each other laugh. Sometimes it’s so important - in a way, it’s absolutely essential - but we’re both of us ice-cold when it comes to doing it, even if we’ve been been laughing a few moments before. And that’s a thing we also share, total concentration.
And what can I say about Peter Cushing that I haven’t said before? I mean, consummate actor, brilliant technician, and a marvellous human being. I’ve always said, you know - I’m sure you’re aware of this - that he should have been a priest… Because there is a great love for his fellow man. There’s an almost superhuman loving kindness in Peter, and it’s always been in there. I’ve never heard him say anything harsh about anyone. He’s also a deeply religious man. Those are the two things we don’t have in common. I’m afraid I do say what I think. I’m not tactless but I am a more direct person than he is. I don’t have his tolerance. I don’t have his gentleness. I don’t have his faith; I wish I did…
He is not an easy person to get to know, believe you me. There’s a lot about Peter that I don’t know… But of course, as you know, Helen died in the 1970’s and that is his only desire left in life. And it’s genuine. He has stayed alive because he’s a man who would never take his own life because that would be a great sin, and he has stayed alive through some pretty terrible experiences, you know. He’s had cancer, and problems with his legs, his hips, breathing, and all sorts of medical problems, but the spirit is unquenchable and the speed of thinking and the mind haven’t changed at all. I mean, it’s another cliche - the spirit is willing but the flesh is weak. The same thing with Vincent [Price]; mind like a rapier, both of them. Only the physical disabilities of getting old…
But he’s certainly one of a kind, and of course this business of staying alive, simply existing, which is how he looks at his life - existence. He’s only waiting for that moment; only waiting for it. And he’s been waiting now for twenty-three years. It must be terrible to be so admired and so loved and so respected but to impose, I feel, on yourself, deliberately, a sort of monastic seclusion which he seems to prefer. He seems to; I mean, you wouldn’t think of it if you saw him with a group of people but I think he prefers to be alone. I don’t think the house is full of people. I don’t think there’s many very, very close, intimate friends - but nor have I, and nor have many people.
Acquaintances, yes; admirers, yes - scores of thousands all over the world, people who feel they know him, people who feel that he’s a friend - all that. That’s on a professional basis; I think on a personal basis, I get the impression that he’s a person who keeps his life and his relationship with his wife very much to himself. It’s locked up in a cupboard of which he has the key. He doesn’t open that cupboard and release anything unless he chooses to. But I don’t either.
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moments I love in "Tempting Fête"
"I can only read what I've got written down, Mr. Funt." "Councilor Funt! -Funn, Councilor Funn."
the fact that it's been 11 years of this Funn/ Funt debate (alternatively, that both the reverend and the mayor have addressed him properly the last three episodes and seemed to have no problem with it)
"Yes, well, I'll see what I'm doing that day" -leading the funeral, one would hope?
underrated bit of the series in general: cell service only being available in the reverend's bathroom
"I think he's quite dishy" (this scratches such an itch in my brain; I quote it once a week)
the mayor and reverend (who will be dating by the end of the episode) agreeing emphatically with the above statement
the reverend wearing eye shadow! (incredible, show stopping, spectacular, never been seen before)
"It was one mouse! and, and I don't know anything about it"
"All opposed?" "... I mean, I'd say opposed is a strong word-" "Done! Carried unanimously!"; "All opposed? "I, uh-" "Overruled! Motion carried!"
"We already have an identity: it's miserable and it works." (i want this on a t-shirt)
"There hasn't been a fête for eleven years." "Astonishing. Who's in charge of local events?" "Rudyard." "Ah."
"Look, it's easy to throw money around and get excited about rustic dancing, but we've got-" "I'LL SAY IT IS!"
"His world had once again become an increasingly scary place. There was only one thing left to do..." "Georgie?" "Yeah?" "We're emigrating."; "It was time for swift and decisive action, and there was only one place to head for: Reverend Wavering's bathroom"; at the funeral I was able to witness Rudyard, bereft of Reverend and with few attendees, deliver a stirring and entirely improvised speech about the circuities of fate, the struggles of discord, and an intractable acceptance of the way the cookie crumbles, a sermon that moved the late Basil Corbett’s niece to say, quite simply:" "We want our money back" (some really fantastic narration moments in this one that make me giggle every time)
Rudyard including Madeleine in the emigration plans is said so sweetly and it honestly makes me a little soft
"One word: Chapman." "I should return his calls-" "Chapman?" "- probably won't, though"
"Rudyard, other people do those things for you!" "Conscription?" "Volunteering!"
"I, I, I do like spreadsheets!"
(No Madeleine, I hate raffles!") (these posts are always so Rudyard-centric lol and it's helped me come to the conclusion that he really is the funniest)
"Do you know how many gallons of fluid I'll have to drain from a man that size? Possibly thousands!" "What a ridiculous lie!" (this is another one that I quote often lol)
"I wish I were Mrs. Carnegie!" "You will be, Mrs, Turner. You will be." (WHAT IS THIS RESPONSE?!)
"Fancy a funeral?" "That a threat?"; "Don't forget your funeral." "Was that a threat?"
"Socializing? That'd take up ten minutes and then what would they do? No. Perpetual scheduled activity, that's the way."
"Put some clothes on!" "IT'S MY HOUSE!"
"Antigone?" "What?!" "Helicopters!" "Go back to your side of the table."
"Now get over there and sabotage something!" "*sigh* Fine." "Do you really think that's going to help?" "Oh maybe not, but it'll cheer me up."
"Called up the family, made up a story about... well, re-organizing a fête, that sort of thing." "How did they react?" "Well, they weren't very happy..." "But?" "No, that's it, they weren't very happy."
"You know, I can actually see your future." "Oh yes?" "Mmm hmm. And it involves this crystal ball getting shoved STRAIGHT up your-"
"Alright sir! Mission accomplissshhhhed." "Hello, Georgie." "Hello..." "Get out, Georgie." "Goodbye..."
The Mayor trying to rustic dance for a couple of hours before giving up
Lady Templar's glass eye. (That's it. That's the post.)
"He'd be spinning in the grave you haven't put him in yet!" (best line of the episode honestly)
"What a dreadful little man!" "Yes... mind you, he looks good in a suit"
"Even in a crowd, they all look lonely" (🤌🤌🤌)
"Can't win 'em all" 'Winning anything at all would be a nice change." (also want this on a t-shirt)
"You like to be the hero, don't ya?" (Georgie's the GOAT)
"Rudyard. Do you know what this chap did?" "Yes, he told me" (my man is already so tired of Eric lol)
#wooden overcoats#chapgone#it's in the subtext#i'm back on my bullshit#these get longer every time#and i'm not even sorry about it#this series is the single thread holding me together right now#still the best#Rudyard Funn#Antigone Funn#Georgie Crusoe#Eric Chapman#Mayor Desmond Desmond#Reverend Wavering#Lady Templar#Madeleine
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There's superstition...
After the torture sentence that I aplied to myself by thinking that this post could be a good idea, I fucking have the information about this... this... twisted story. Not all the information though, because if I search for more info about this I will surely need to go to the Cuckoo's nest.
Oh Martina, you're exaggerating. No, I'm not (well yeah, kinda). This was so confusing to understand and organize. Believe I was in the bathroom seconds ago saying "Okay, 1970 Cozy and Jeff going to Detroit. 1971 and 1972 Stevie.."
The most important thing about Superstition's back story and theories about Cozy's playing on it, is the ☆Timelines.☆ Because in the end everything revolves around 1970-71 and 72 to ever consider Cozy in Superstition so let's start.
[Jeff Beck and Cozy Powell going to Motown Studios in Detroit, 1970-71]
They both travelled to the States to do some Motown covers for the upcoming album with only covers but they never released it. They released Rough and Ready inestead but I'll leave the man explains that to you himself:
"My producer, Mickie Most, said, 'We have to make an album.' I talked Mickie into going to Motown, the Hitsville house. It was one of the last sessions there. I was so privileged. We were more like tourists, kids in a candy shop. I took Cozy [Cozy Powell] and I said, 'I gotta go to Motown, and you’re coming as well.' (Cozy: *gets scared and excited*) It wasn't a request. What the hell was I doing taking a rock drummer, with two huge Ludwig bass drums, into Motown? They hated us right away. They didn’t want to know. But we loved it there, and they sensed it after a few hours. The first day, when Cozy sat behind the Motown drum kit and started playing like the Meters, they all went, 'Oh!' (Motown people: Heeey... That's pretty good!) and came flooding back to the studio. It was James Jamerson on bass that day — no rhythm guitar — and Earl Van Dyke on keyboards. That was it, a stripped-down thing. They kept saying, 'Where are the dots?' [sheet music] I said, 'There ain’t no dots.'
When Cozy started playing, it was great. James was locking up with Cozy’s drum pattern. Then I looked around — Cozy was wheeling the drum kit out of the studio. They’re going berserk. He has moved the sacred Motown drum kit out of the studio and wheeled this stupid double kit of Ludwigs in. The studio tech came up to me and said, 'Didn’t you guys come in here for the Motown sound?' Yeah. 'Well, it just went out the door.' [Laughs] "
Jeff Beck, Rolling Stone.
I just love when Jeff refers to Cozy's drum kit as stupid, fancy or whatever in a derogatory way... just because it was sparkling red jsjdjfkgkgl.
We have here, Cozy's side of the events:
"You may as well start off with both feet on the most obscure thing I've ever done. I've got a copy of it, a tape.
It never got the test pressing stage. We went to Motown in Detroit with the idea of Jeff recording an album of all the Motown hits, basically as an instrumental album. He wanted to use a lot of the Motown session players. At that time I'd just joined him, 1969 I think, and his original idea was to find a drummer first. Found me, went down to the audition, got the job, next thing I know (Jeff: You're coming with me. Cozy: ...the fuck?) we're going to Motown to do this album. We did 'Reach out I'll Be There', 'Losing You', things like that. In the end we did about 7 or 8 tracks of which the backing tracks were done.
Jeff plays rhythm guitar, he hadn't actually put the lead on and for some reason he wasn't happy with what he heard or with Micky Most or whatever. It never ever saw the light of day."
Cozy Powell, interview with Joe Gessin
This is all important because this wouldn't be the first time that Jeff and Cozy travelled to the States together.
[JBGroup going to Electric Lady in New York, May 1972]
This is where the party begins and when the timelines confusion comes in.
So, Jeff Beck Group's second album is recorded in January of 1972 at TMI Studios in Memphis. Talking Book was RELEASED in October of 1972 so we don't know how exactly when it was recorded.
But anyway, the thing is that Jeff and his gang released the album in May but before that Stevie and Jeff were kicking the idea of some session works with Jeff for Talking Book so when they released the album in May, they had no obligations left so Jeff took his gang to Electric Lady in New York.
Jeff recorded some guitar tracks and the gang was just observing and occasionally adding ideas. They wanted Stevie to write a song for the next album (which it doesn't exist).
This is where the party begins part 2:
There is this story of Jeff playing the drums for a laugh, noodling around while Stevie was writing over it. It seems like Jeff did something that inspired Stevie but here's the guy again:
"One day I was sitting at the drum kit, which I love to play when nobody's around, doing this beat. Stevie came kinda boogieing into the studio: 'Don't stop.' 'Ah, c'mon, Stevie,' I can't play the drums.' Then the lick came out: 'Superstition.'"
Jeff Beck, Jeff Beck: Crazy Fingers.
I really doubt that is Jeff's playing in the record. What I don't doubt is that maybe Stevie played the drums but since they had Cozy around and Stevie liked Cozy's beat and most importantly he was a drummer (I'm not saying that Stevie is not a drummer, I'm just saying that Cozy is a full drummer while Stevie plays a lot of things). This is where the previous Cozy post about this comes in. They where trying different things so I really believe that at some point of that day Cozy sat down on the drum kit and did a take.
And there's a proof that Cozy was there and worked with Stevie, actually there are two: The only two existents pictures of Stevie Jeff and Cozy were taken in 1972.
"Stevie Wonder is one of these man who walks around singing all day, tapping out rhythms... well, the man IS music. When I worked with him -which was very briefly- he'd come in with this idea in his head and he'd say 'Hey, hey, play this man!' and he'd start tapping something out"
Cozy Powell, Rhythm magazine 1987.
And theres another Cozy quote but is not complete because I found it on pinterest (so sorry) but it's understandable as well.
"He'd tapping out the table. You'd watch and start tapping along with him and he'd get excited and say 'Yeah, yeah, yeah... now try this on the hit-hat, man, try this.. ' After five minutes you'd have come up with something and then perhaps you'd do a little bit more or a little bit less of it, and if he really liked it he'd start dancing around and laughing and waving his arms about. Then he'd leap on to the keyboards and start playing. It was all very energetic, good stuff and really easy to do. You weren't aware it was work."
Cozy Powell, unknown article.
I feel that Stevie's energetic attitude and passion for music hit him deeply, I can see that by the way that the quotes are written. Cozy just loved Stevie.
So yeah, Cozy said that he did some takes for Superstition when Stevie finally wrote it down. In the case that I'm mistaken and it was Stevie who played the drums... it should have been over some Cozy's track because there's no way that Stevie could imitate his Crashing-Cymbal sound or either his drum rolls. Stevie can of course, but not will the same touch, because of the simple reason that one person is different from another.
But I still believe that it IS Cozy's take, i really do and the most important question here is: if Cozy was not who played the drums on Superstition... Why he would lie about it? He had no reason to do it so there must be some truth in his words.
And we need to remember that Superstition was originally planned for Jeff Beck Group so if it was for Jeff Beck Group, they would need Jeff's drummer which was Cozy. So I wouldn't be surprised if Stevie asked Cozy to do some takes.
And when Superstition was finally out, it was by Stevie Wonder using Cozy's take. The reason of why Stevie released it was because Motown said that it was such a great song for giving it away. Also Jeff was busy with Jeff Beck Group's break up for working on the song.
The reason of why Stevie was enlisted as the drummer is not clear, it seems like a Motown move.
So yeah, this is story, well half of it. The shit was so long with a lot of details that I didn't need for this.
I believe that it was Cozy's take, for a lot of reasons. Not because I like him (Well i do like him but the truth is the truth). Maybe it was Stevie with a Cozy guide, we don't know... and we never will.
(Unless we kidnap Jeff Beck and ask him)
#omg Martina get a grip#what the actual fuck?#what is this? the new testament or something??????#but good unnecessary stuff to know...#I know that It was Cozy... i just know#long post#cozy powell#jeff beck#jeff beck group#stevie wonder#superstition
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Inside Jokes and References in the Full Bios
Mainly for @spacelizardtrashboys and @kuruumiya
Also: Any time strikethrough text is used it's because it's meant to be secret information, for example on the small bios any time 'Lucifarian' truly isn't their last name their is strikethrough test after saying that it's not their real name. This is to say that no matter what is written or if it's strikethrough text or not, it is there for a reason.
Damien - Bio In-Jokes and References:
The Quote for him refers back to his 'King of Hell' gimmick, as does his middle name, Rex means king.
He's protective, like a dad, but also way too overprotective over the gimmicks for the girls. He's an old, old school guy so he enjoys card games with the boys.
He's supposed to sound like a young Hugh Laurie, mainly because if I heard a young Hugh Laurie say Damien's bio quote I wouldn't be able to take him seriously.
His main finisher (Seventh Circle) refers back to (a) him being the king of hell and (b) the seventh circle is for violence, and well, he's a wrestler, that's a pretty violent job.
He calls fans both 'peasants' and his 'loyal subjects' because he's like an asshole-ish king who'd quickly be dethroned if they rebelled.
Vickie - Bio In-Jokes and References:
The Quote for her refers back to her gimmick along with the old saying 'pride comes before the fall'.
She's called 'Victoria' because of both (a) it meaning victory and (b) the fact that Queen Victoria ruled back when Britain had an empire, then the empire fell (as in pride [Vickie] before a fall)
Both Her and Damien are born in August and are the only two to share a birth month as they are Father and Daughter (non-kayfabe, as in they share DNA)
She's raised Christian as back when she was growing up England was a lot more Christian than when she became an adult so she got lax in her beliefs
Her personality is supposed to make her come across as a vain, rich, arse of a person, yet deep down she's still redeemable, she's got a long way to go before she actually redeems herself though
She's the type of person who makes sure EVERY little detail of her matches and promos are PERFECT to the point that she will control what other people do or say, down to the moment it's said/done and the way it's said/done
She only likes the other D.O.D (Daughters of Darkness) members because she has only made enemies in the short while they've been in the company, she especially dislikes George 'The Animal' Steele because of his very messy style going against her 'everything should be perfect' views
She's the leader, the brain and the mouth because of her control over the group, if she let them have more control, there might be less arguments about her amount of control
Her named moves are also references to both her gimmick and other things. Beheader is named because of the Tudor monarchs of England having kind of a thing for killing people in this way (ex. Henry VIII).
Lineage Ender is named that because if she ever botches that one specific move (it'll make sense in context/ she does it during a training scene) it could end either her own Lineage or the person she's doing it to.
Lion's den is called that because she traps them in a near-inescapable crucifix pin, and normally if someone goes into a den of Lions, they aren't escaping in one piece.
Family Pride is named that because not only is her gimmick the sin of pride, but she's got pride in her family and she's her dad's 'pride and joy' because she's his only child.
Wish for this (her main finishing move) is called that because it's an inside joke of "you're gonna 'wish for this' to be over soon"
As she's Damien's blood daughter, a 'prodigal son' joke seemed somewhat appropriate.
Billie - Bio In-Jokes and References:
Her quote is a reference to the Guerreros and the whole 'Latin lover' trope
She was born in February because of Valentine's day, hence why her birthday is two days before the 14th
She's 1/2 Cuban (just in general - both Mexican and Cuban culture is interesting to me) But she's 1/2 Cuban in case I ever need to write for Razor Ramon, I can get away with making the joke of 'my Cuban accent's better than yours'.
Her casual style is 'Suggestive' because how else is Lust supposed to dress.
She dislikes Hulk Hogan because she finds him incredibly annoying and she dislikes Jesse Ventura because she dislikes his fashion choices.
I imagine her uncle Hugo looks like Luis Guzman and her dad's like Raul Julia. Try to imagine those two wrestling as a luchador tag team.
Her mother was basically a valet to her dad, which was usually Billie's role before she was part of the D.O.D.
Her move name references are all song references: Love me Tender - Elvis' song of the same name, Personal Aphrodite - a reference to / joke on 'Personal Jesus', Sexual Healing - Marvin Gaye's song of the same name.
Also, I hope to eventually use the joke 'The Babe, the babe with the power,' 'What power?' 'Power of voodoo' 'Who do?' 'You do' 'Do what?' 'Remind me of the babe' because of one of her commentary nicknames being 'The Babe'
P.G - Bio In-Jokes and References:
Her quote is in reference to her being greed and (right at the start of the story) her thoughts on money actually being able to buy her happiness
her surname 'Voronin' means crow, and well, crows like shiny things, like money
she wears 'fancy but simple' clothing because if she bought designer clothes she'd be in debt, but she still wants to look like she has more money than everyone else
she's cowardly in a Jimmy Hart way, she'll piss someone off during a promo and run away once she feels like she's in danger
she's a showman because she's more show than work, meaning she works exceptionally quick matches.
Her moves are basically jokes on the fact that she is greed, such as Gold-digger and Diamond Ring. However, Money Maker is also a joke on the fact that it's a facebuster and usually an actor's face is called their 'money maker'
She hates Hulk Hogan and Sgt slaughter because of how patriotic they are
Kirby - Bio In-Jokes and References:
Her quote is a reference to (a) the fact that she's Gluttony, (b) her being the only one who wears a mask constantly and (c) her basically being the group's scare tactic against people who think they can push them around.
I am planning on eventually making her a part of the machines, maybe as a valet, maybe as a wrestler, not 100% sure as of right now
Her mother is the Norwegian-Scottish one and her father is the Irish-Welsh one
She is the tallest (not the heaviest, that's Damien) but she's still 9 inches shorter than André.
She's willing to bleed hardway, but hates blading
She hates Big John Studd because of his disrespect, she hates Hulk Hogan because she thinks he's obnoxiously 'American', she dislikes Lord Alfred Hayes and Dynamite Kid because they are so insistent on calling her '1/4 Icelandic' whenever she talks about being 1/4 Norwegian. She hates Brutus Beefcake because he's just 'so, so much' energy-wise.
She's always been tall, always shorter than André though, she was 5'6" when she was 12, which is still taller than Sam, P.G and Eli.
Kirby's the best at using folk tales and mythology references in her promos and still keeping them dark and scary.
Her speaking voice is Jessica Hynes, but I imagine her singing voice (which will be important later) to be that of Deee-lite's Lady Miss Kier. On that note, I will be putting up a post on this part of the fic's canon.
Feeding Frenzy is meant to look similar to Roddy's wild punches, hence the 'frenzy' part of the name.
Organ grinder is named because it's meant to look really hard (like she's putting all her force and weight into it) as if she's grinding her opponents organs
Hungry for Blood is an in-joke of during her toughest matches she seems hungry to give the fans the sight of blood
Consummation is a joke of 'the match will soon be over, the match will soon be concluded, or consummated' not the sex-based meaning of that word.
Number of the beast, which is 666, is a reference to the 619, and is a modified 619 basically.
Vampire's Bite is a reference to her sitout jawbreaker looking like she could possibly bite someone's neck, like a vampire, as she performs the move
I didn't want to call her chops, chops, so I made a joke of 'oh it's chopping, like a butcher's knife'
Overfeeding is another basic gluttony reference. Cheshire Grin is a facelock-based joke. Let Them Eat Cake is a butt=cake joke
The ogress is a thinly-veiled way of the commentary team calling her ugly, because why else would she be the only one in a mask
Holly - Bio In-Jokes and References:
Her quote is written that way because I always wanted her to sound like she comes from New Jersey
She's very cuddly towards the rest of the D.O.D and thus gets called a teddy bear by the others
She's Pansexual because she doesn't care what your gender is, she loves people just being themselves
She's the only ginger because I've never seen a ginger wrestler from New Jersey
She was raised Catholic but lost her faith upon realising how bad gay people are treated by the church (Holly literally just goes "Y'all it is 1984, how are y'all gonna reject people based on who they love?")
Holly's very much the person who'll ask permission to cut a promo on someone but won't tell them how harsh she's going to be
She's the group's mom friend (mum friend?)
Before she started travelling with another member of the group (Holly travels with Sam a lot) she would accidentally no-show events
She does accidentally give incredibly stiff shots
Holly likes Gorilla Monsoon because their friendship is very much a weird pseudo-dad-daughter friendship, so basically, she's using him as her new dad
Her voice is Angie Harmon because I think Harmon sounds like a badass from New Jersey
Naptime, Dirt Nap and Lullaby are jokes of 'I'm gonna knock you out'
Eli - Bio In-Jokes and References:
Her quote is a joke of 'this is why she doesn't do a lot of promos'
She's the most likely to be on one of those 'too hot for TV' blooper reels from her promos
Both she and Sam hate people taller than them
Sam - Bio In-Jokes and References:
Her quote is a reference to the fact that her tattoos are her 'masterpiece'
she dresses athletically because she's always ready for a fight, especially because she's usually the one picking fights
She likes Lou because he's like a crazy uncle to her and she likes George Steele because, unlike Vickie, she likes the wild man side of his gimmick
She's voiced by Melissa Etheridge because she's still feminine but is the most masculine sounding
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Ok this was supposed to be a quick draw and a description to go with, that blew into a full chapter and now it's also on Ao3 SO happy reading ig idk
I never see Shane works that don't go all in for romance nor explore the more realistic ugly parts of recovery, and I kind of crave That TM. So let me have at it too with the self-insert whump mumbo jumbo; no romo version.
Set post-8 hearts event, Farmer Uidelsib is two years or so in, full house built and married to Emily. They/them pronouns, same as me.
Diverges from then on, Shane-centric from an outside POV for the most part.
[[MORE]]
Take that can away if you can.
Gulp it down. Chapter 1/2/3/4
There's a few to-know to survive life in society, in the valley; there's no good way to comment on the age nor weight of both resident housewives, you can't say no to Evelyn's homemade cookies- and why would you, you fool-, you do not fight at the Saloon or you'll get no cheese anymore on your pizza and only sparkling water for drinks, and-
And you don't mess with Shane's alcohol related ritual.
Except I did, that night, because you do that, when your two-years long friendship with the guy taught you better than letting his impulses overcome yours, when your buddy is trying to recover from teenage long-lasting into early adulthood, trauma-enhanced heavy addiction, and you know, you know tomorrow he'll feel like absolute shit and question his right to therapy the moment he'll stop his pounding skull from splitting. Wonders what a three-dosage paracetamol can do.
At least he doesn't drink it out anymore.
So yeah, when you're in my shoes, you get that Joja store-bought crap out of Shane's hand, and you brace yourself for the incoming lash out.
The first fractions of seconds are always those to look closely into most. It's only a glimpse, but before the scowl slips on like a well-worn boxing glove ready to strike, there is always this open page I learned I needed to decipher as quick as I could.
Tonight, it's heartbreaking. When I peck his forehead- doting big sibling habits die hard, even when you're actually the youngest of the pair- the eyes I catch looking at me are so confused and bare of any emotion, except for the sorrow that goes beer-soaked tears, it pangs. I get used to the breakdowns, working in the fields I do when I'm off the farm's, but it's not the same when it's a friend.
When I straighten back, offensive beverage in hand, it's already gone in a flinch, away from the empty space behind the chair and onto the table, as he snarls.
"Wha- giv'me back- 's mine!" I don't know how much he drunk before he met up with me, but from the slurring, it's a Lot. A season and a half into sobriety. That's harsh.
I ignore him and walk behind him, pondering where to put the beer for now.
"Y-you can't just do that! It's my booze I got with m'money, not some- who d'you think you are?-" He sputters indignantly, angry tears fewer than the sad ones but still there. He tries to turn around and grab behind his back, but the wild movement is way off and only gets the chair to nearly topples down. I rush in time to stabilize it, and profit off the moment to set a strong hand on his shoulder.
"I can just do that, 'cus it's my house I got with my money, and I think I'm your pal who knows when you've had enough. Dude, I trust you to be an adult, but minutes before, you were already so torched I had to keep your neck upright so you didn't faceplant into the table, and you nearly just kissed my floor good evening. Not to mention you clung to my arms the whole way from the little entry stairs to the kitchen because, quoting, 'If I don't I'll fall in the hole and won't get up'."
I turn to the fridge again, going to open it, before I think better of it. Likely enough, we'll both forget it was there in the first place, it'll stink up my fridge- it's Joja's- and it'll be money out of Shane's pocket for nothing. I set it on the counter, with the rest of the pack. He'll put it to cool down when he's back to Marnie's. Or he won't, probably.
That's not a worry for now.
When I caught up with him, it was a few feet below my doorstep; he'd probably slipped up trying to climb the three steps up to it, and settled for it. He was nursing that same can, muttering to himself, head down, curled up on himself. Except for that leg sticked out, he probably hurt it when he fell, I'll have to look at that and work on it if it's too swollen. Hopefully that'll spare us from a visit to Harvey's.
Bad memories. Not mine, and it's warm and not raining outside, but. Déjà-vu.
Anyways, he looked the picture of "help I've fallen and I can't get up- and even if I can I won't because Fuck You", and it's been a hassle to have him cooperate. But when I asked if he wanted to leave, he shook his head with a fervor no somnolent drunk should have. That resulted in a lovely streak of vomit down the wall right next to the door. That's also for later. If Eryza doesn't lap it up. Ew. This cat's never predictable.
Now, he's staring at his hands, sitting at my table, contemplating something too far down for me to see- or maybe just zoning out with a sleeping brain. Then he mumbles. "Sorry."
I get back to the table and sit at arm's length across of him. "Nah, 's okay. I don't mind being a helping hand or touchy-feely, must be the frog-eater in me. Not for the helping part." I'd chuckle but my quip falls on deaf ears.
I go to put my hand over his. When he doesn't blink at it, I try and shake a reply out of him, gently. He startles and hawkeyes our joined fingers. When he's finally looking at me, I raise a single eyebrow. He doesn't say anything, but when he pulls back his arm, I let him. We both straighten up, and it's hard to keep up the eye contact.
"So…" There's a heavy air on us. Suddenly, like the last year didn't happen, we're sitting a stride away of each other, and yet it feels like he's all the way back to the forest, looking down at waves.
"Do you want me to do something?" I bend myself a little closer to him, not moving otherwise.
He puts his head in his hands, shivering. Can't tell if it's the AC or his system kicking the alcohol out, or itself, in stress. I think I hear something, but it might as just be his shuddering breath.
"Shane" I insist, voice level, not pressing. "I need words. I want to help, I truly don't mind, but I need words to know what to do." He's never shown signs of going nonverbal before. If he does, I'll improvise. Until then… I need words.
Time ticks slowly as we wait. Then, with great effort and deep fatigue, he drags his palms up from under his nose to his temple, spreading some snot and wet tears across his face from his scrunched shut eyes. Lips trembling but finally showing, that attempt to let out a sound that's not too garbled. He coughs, sniffles a bit, breathe in again, sounding like a sick dog, and blows through gritted teeth before his jaws go slack. Eyes still closed, he whispers, and I have to lower myself some more toward his crouched form to catch it.
"Can I get something to drink…?" His voice is hoarse.
The demand could be comical, if we were into sour humor. And we usually are. But right now, we're not finding the joke in the lines. I stand silently, and as I walk to the fridge again, I let my hand brush his shoulder- same spot as before.
I take a minute to choose, look into the pantry. When I'm back at the table with my items of choice, he's still sitting there, his cheek is cushioned on his arms, face hidden from view. His shoulder, except for the occasional tremor, rise and fall in rythm with his snores. Breaks my heart to interrupt that, but not really. Hangovers are mean bitches with the sharpest nail art on the blackest of boards.
"Psst, dude. C'mon." I rustle his hair backward. He hates when I do that, says it tickles, and it makes him sneeze. So I obligatory do it once a day if I can. Let's say today's my late quota for the last four days I haven't seen him.
He gruffly tells me to kindly refrain from such pleasantries, and raise bleary eyes back up at the table. I can also guess he tried to bat a hand at me, but his coordination is off and he slaps himself lightly on the ear. Then he glares bewildered at his hand for a few seconds, obviously insulted. I profit of this moment to grab a small basin from under the sink, on second thought.
When he brings his attention back to me, I'm sitting again. Between us, a jug of fresh milk from this morning, a small sack of peppers, and a juice carafe sit aside a green glass bottle. There's also some bread, mostly for me to munch on. Because, hmmm dough. He squints at it all, especially at the bottle. Probably trying to read the label.
"Yeah no, didn't get you one of my best wine, not sorry."
"Hot pepper… juice?" He looks at the actual peppers next to it. "With actual peppers?" And then I get the squint too.
"Hmph, I know you like your elongated hell tomatoes, man, what can i say."
At that, a feeble snort.
I decide that it is the highlight victory of my soirée.
"Welp, have at it." I gesture to the half-liter liquor glass right by his left.
He fumbles with the drinks and some splashes around, but I lay back on my chair, arms crossed, letting him do his thing. While I don't hold back from growing downright doting on him when I got to- or even when I don't- I don't see how more devotion right now would be not smothering. He can break my fancy glass cups if he wants and spill my milk, so long he doesn't cut himself or cry over it.
Now, you could be thinking that plain water would have done the trick just fine, if not better, in rehydrating him. Here's the thing, though; going from booze to tasteless liquid, for Shane, that's a sure way to puking his heart out. And I'd rather not have us deal with an acid bile throat burn on top of near alcohol poisoning. Sorry to not spare you the squeamish details, but his oesophagus is pretty sensitive ever since that stomach pumping back at the clinic. Hot fiery hell fruits he can do just fine, with relative moderation and hydratation- hence the milk and juice- but liquor bursting its way back from his guts? Nuh uh.
It had taken lots of coaxing, but he'd explained the plain tastes, or lackthereof, were very hard for him to deal with, especially when contrasting with strong ones like beers and whiskeys. I'd shackle it to gustative hypostimulation, but I don't know enough about him that way to say. He'd said sparkling water was a good compromise.
But I don't have sparkling water, because I do not like suffering.
I might buy a pack for when he visits though.
And I do know a handful about him already. Shackle that to perceptiveness and a stubborn streak on top of a year and so long camaraderie.
And having a certain uncontrollable fear of failing to act quick the next time coped with by accumulating information and patterns compulsively.
I shake my head to focus on the present again. He's switched from juices to soaking bread in milk to eat it small portion after small portion. He pauses in mid-bite when he catches me staring. He's still hunched on himself and red-faced and a tad bloated. His cheeks are drying and he's blown his nose. I smile calmly. Worst of the storm passed, unless I screw up and blow it.
"Ywou wan' chom'?" He offers a dripping piece of bread. In moments like this, when he's sobering but not quite, the resemblance with Jas are unmistakable. The glint in his reddened eyes that open wide, and his blank-but-not-quite wondering expression, it's all here to paint a scrutinizing but vulnerable picture of tired but bright minds.
"Nah thanks. You done with that milk?"
"...Sure." He eyes it, wary. He knows where this is going, and he doesn't like it. I take the drink off the table, and his gaze follows my movement until I bring it to my lips.
He frowns. A silent warning.
And as I lock onto him with a dead stare, not blinking a millisecond, I down the rest of the 2 liters jug in three, five gulps. I even take the time to lick my new mustache away, and close my mouth with a click of my tongue.
His expression is the macabre marriage of beffudled horror and pure affliction, disgust if you will. The face of someone who doesn't hate milk, but has grown out of it enough to not be able to live off the stuff like the brave souls I'm apart of. And probably with reason, as I actually can't, like most 20+ years old, digest the liquid in large amount. But I smile like a smug cat, perfectly content.
Cats really can't digest milk once adults, it's all social mythos.
We silently judge and fuck with each other like that for a while more, as more time passes, until the room's elephant gets it all humid with its prancing around. Enough that tears and nervous sweats start again, for no apparent reasons but the residual anxiety from the whole chain of events that led to this.
"I think we should talk about this."
--- to be continued.
#alcohol cw#emetophobia cw#self hatred cw#stardew valley shane#sdv shane#stardew valley#stardew valley farmer#sdv farmer#1!Dow Farm#Farmer Uidelsib#☆my art☆#♧Shane#*watch me push my autistic headcanons onto chicken boi*#*just you wait for the trans and hispanic ones*#*i'm about to destroy this man whole career of self depreciation*#*highly functionning dumbass energy vs immovable but movable force of sadness*#food cw#*fuck tumblr for not letting me put a read more on mobile rip ur dash y'all*#☆writing☆
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