#Strange Guy but I Like Him (Herbert)

[ikkaku-of-heart]

@miskatonicfolly asked: Mood 

Anubis makes moodboards! (Still Accepting)

Herbert West and Ikkaku. A true friendship despite everything. He’s weird, she’s weird, they’re weird together, though Ikkaku does at least keep his weirdness from getting out of hand (or at least not as much as it would have without her interference). They are wonderful mad science friends and Ikkaku genuinely cares for him despite her constantly needing to remind Herbert that no, there’s a god damn good reason people shouldn’t come back from the dead.

[sebastianswallows]

I want to talk a little bit about Frank Herbert and the Bene Gesserits, because it's something that's been on my mind for a while and I haven't seen anyone looking at these characters from this perspective yet (not that I looked very hard, but I check the tags occasionally and just haven't seen it, and this would be the first place I'd expect to).

It's strange in a good way seeing Dune become popular, and people actually reading the books, and it being cool to do so, not it being a niche and nerdy thing. But what's equally weird is to see all the praise Frank Herbert's getting, especially from women readers 😂

Because at any point between, I think, the 80s and the 2000s, if a guy said he liked Frank Herbert that was considered by women to be a red flag. I remember women chatting about this in online forums back in the day. It was the equivalent of a guy saying he likes Jordan Peterson now.

It's an analysis of Dune that doesn't seem to have come through again. Audiences have caught on to the homophobia inherent in how the Baron was represented, but nobody is talking anymore about the blatant sexism of the books.

And I say this as a long time fan, because I was super inspired by most of the female characters in the novels and in particular the Bene Gesserits, so to hear that Herbert was supposed to be a misogynist took me by surprise. "What do you mean it's sexist? This is great!" The idea of a group of women who fully dedicate themselves to their own intergalactic girl gang, who follow their own plans, who use their femininity to their own ends, who live through discipline and self control and are fully empowered to face down any threat, that was so inspiring to teenage me.

But I guess the sort of women I most admired were the ones who were terrifying to men.

I mean, the only "good" female characters are either not Bene Gesserits, like Chani, or are Bene Gesserits who go against the order, like Jessica. Moreover, the only "good" female characters are those who betray their group for the sake of men. Like Jessica going against the word of the Reverend Mother because Leto wanted a boy.

Irulan's only redeeming features are her complete dedication to Paul and being basically in love with him and being the author of glorifying history books about him in spite of the fact that he deposed her father and is keeping her in a loveless marriage and constantly publicly humiliates her by treating Chani as his wife.

Even Chani, an otherwise bland and marginal character compared to the film, is at her most poignant when dying in child birth for the sake of giving birth to Paul's children. A death which happens because Irulan had been secretly poisoning her out of jealousy. Frank Herbert just has women clawing each other's eyes out for the sake of Paul's affection. I don't care how good that dick is, it's not worth poisoning another woman over. Poison him instead and take the throne, girl.

But oh yeah, in this intergalactic empire tens of thousands of years in the future, they seem to have discovered neither the concept of divorce nor of female inheritance of titles and property. It can only be a man inheriting the throne, not the Emperor's biological daughter. And once Irulan is married, well she's just stuck there. Pretty incredible.

And however great the Bene Gesserits are, they still need a man to "see where they can not see". No matter how empowered a group of women becomes, they still need a man. Only a man can see into the future. Women can only see into the past. Therefore, only a man can save the world.

I get that they tried to conceal some of this in the recent film, and they managed to do so to some extent, but it's mostly been with Chani. You still have the problem of Jessica and Irulan being just servants for the whims of the men in their lives, a fact which gets them into a lot of trouble. And you have the Bene Gesserits portrayed as scheming witches who are evil to have their own plots and designs, and are dependent on a man to see into that place which terrifies them.

I mean, enjoy the books by all means. I always did in spite of all of this, and I still like the story and the world. I still love the characters too. But man if the author didn't have some unflattering ideas about us 😂

[daxwormzz]

Who’s Piter? (Full disclosure, I’m entirely prepared for rambling, I’ve just never heard of this)

HIIIIIIII OKAY SO. Basically. Piter de Vries is this guy from hit 1960s scifi novel Dune by Frank Herbert. He’s the right-hand to the main villain, The Baron Harkonnen. He’s only in the first half of the first book, and some of the bad prequel novels.

Piter’s whole thing is that he’s a Mentat, a human trained to essentially function like a supercomputer and be crazy good at calculating shit. (Because “thinking machines” have been outlawed in the world of Dune, so no computers!) but also he’s specifically this thing called a TWISTED MENTAT, which means he’s a computer who’s evil and has no moral compass. It’s up to interpretation what exactly caused this— there’s sorta two theories with equal amounts of evidence. One: this one evil organization purposefully fucks up Mentats to MAKE them essentially lose faith in morality and humanity as a whole. Like reeeeaaally fucks them up. And two: they’re actually just born like that. Like the mentat was already predisposed to “evil” behavior and that one organization just exploits that and employs them.

I sorta think it was a mix of that for Piter, I think he was born with obvious signs of brain illness and that was exploited and exacerbated by whatever he was put through. I think if he wasn’t “twisted” he probably would’ve grown up to he just some kinda strange asshole, rather than one of the most wretched guys you’ll ever meet.

That being said, the actual gist of Piter’s personality and description is this: eccentric and snarky conniving guy who LOVES to torture. He’s also shown to be very power-hungry, and subtly obsessed with control and death as a whole. And also poisons. He has a passion for poison-making. As a mentat, he’s also an assassin of sorts, cause turns out they’re pretty good at that. He’s described as having a terrifying “silky” voice, so kind of like if a snake was a guy. He’s also described as followed: a short “effeminate” man with frizzy hair, probably wears platform boots, blue-within-blue eyes, and red-stained lips. (“It was like a mask grimace over those eyes like holes”, to quote the book directly.) his eyes and mouth are an important detail, because those come from all the DRUGS he takes. Like so many. He’s specifically takes Spice, the most important substance in Dune basically. That’s what makes his eyes that weird blue! So he’s like… unnerving-pretty. Weird looking but pretty in the way a very toxic sea creature is. Do NOT touch. Sometimes he refers to himself in the third person and he sounds like the Miette cat post.

BUUUUT YEAH so like, weird guy amiright? I’m prone to loving evil right hand man characters, I’ll be for real. But what really got me crazy about his character is how he’s treated in the story by various characters. Sure, he’s a bad awful guy and all that- but he is also CONSTANTLY dehumanized. Specifically by his “employer”, The Baron. Who is a whole other can of worms. There’s even a whole scene where the baron puts Piter on “display” and refers to him as “it”. The baron also explicitly exploits Piter’s drug addiction to get him to comply and stay “loyal”, which is particularly scary I think, because spice withdrawal is incredibly deadly.

Piter and the Baron have some of the most bonkers banter in the entire book. It’s comedically evil in every way. You can tell they HATE each other but it’s hidden under so many layers of scheming and posturing. Piter would take the barony if he could 💪💪💪😔😔😔 Piter is also THE guy who comes up with the entire coup against the main character’s noble house that sparks the main events of the entire book??? Like he states directly that it was HIM. On like page 21 of the book. And this is not talked about much. None of his movie versions really get to the “meat” of his character, especially the newest Dune films. He’s very glossed-over, honestly. Which is a shame because as you can tell, I find him fascinating!

I think…. I’m done now… thank you for coming to my Piter talk… I hope this is enlightening 💚

[redcruxsworld]

I love you, still do.

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

Kennings looked at the picture on his desk. Amongst all his possessions, it was the most special one. One that he cherished the most. A picture of his ex-girlfriend, Cecilia, is also known as "Miss Heed." They met when they were young and fell in love. They dated for six long years before Cecilia finally left him. It was sudden and shocking for him. He didn't notice anything wrong prior. It was just him and her happy together living in his small apartment. He was a good boyfriend, too. He'd clean the place and cook homemade meals for the both of them. It was a simple yet quiet and lovely one..... or so he thought. Ever since she left him with a letter telling him that she was breaking up with him, he felt like he did something wrong. As if the reason why she left was because of him. She never specifically said it was his fault, but he felt like if he only had given her things she wanted, maybe.... she would have stayed. 'That might be it', Kennings said in his mind. He couldn't give her nice bags, clothes, and a nicer apartment, that's why she left him. He stood up with a determined look on his face. He knew what he needed to do, and he would do it if it meant to get her back. He would do every job so that he could take her out on a nice dinner night. He then changed clothes and walked the street nights of Paris. He was inquiring if any of the restaurants and bars needed a waiter. He hanged his head low as he was rejected for the 5th time. As he decided to go back home and try his luck tomorrow, a flyer slapped him on the face. He took it off, and a smile grew on his face. It was a flyer for a well-known restaurant in his area and wouldn't you know they are looking for a waiter! 'This is great! Now I'll be able to save up more money to take Cecilia out!', Kennings squealed as he ran directly to where the restaurant was. He entered, huffing as he tried to gain back some air back to his lungs. The staff who were closing up the place looked at him in confusion. He then looked up and raised the flyer, "You are guys looking still for a waiter?", he said in an excited tone. The staff then spoke up after a solid minute, "Sorry, but we are clos-", then a loud slam of the kitchen door erupted. It was the owner and head chef of the restaurant, Herbert Leth. He smiled brightly, "Oh, looks, we already have a new waiter! Isn't that nice!", Herbert said in a cheery and loud voice. Herbert walked towards Kennings and held his hands, "Welcome to La Gueule de Saturne. It's a pleasure to be your boss and to have you as a new employee. You'll be starting next morning! Don't be late, alright?", he said before releasing his death grip on Kennings's hands. Kennings rubbed his hands together to relieve some of the pain, "A-already?.... No interview o-or anything???", he asked, perplexed by Herbert's overly positive and cheery attitude. Herbert just shook his head, "None, unless you want that? But I'm sure you don't. Anyways, remember, I need you here by 5 am sharp. Ok?", Herbert said as he faced his other employees, "Keep moving. We are 4 minutes late from closure.", his cheery voice shifting to a more serious one. Kennings felt relieved that he immediately got the job, but...... he felt like something was off. Did the great master chef Herbert Leth really just accepted him with no questions asked? It was strange, but nonetheless, maybe it was just luck being on his side today. He left the restaurant before a voice called out to him, "Oi! New guy, don't forget your uniform!", the staff member said hastily giving it to him before running back to the restaurant. He looked at the guy wanting to say thank you but couldn't even finish. His eyes then stared at the uniform, then the outside of La Gueule de Saturne. Looks like his boring life got busier than ever. He doesn't want to disappoint his new boss, just like how he did with Cecilia. After she was the main reason why he wanted this job. It was for her. He then carried his uniform back to his flat and slept. Ready to take on what tomorrow holds for him.

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

[starstruckodysseys]

ages ago (literally only like seven months ago) i started a poe party role swap au and honestly i don’t know if ill ever finish it despite it having some banger lines so. here’s my (incredibly vague) outline. if you even care.

hg dies before the story even starts. he begins to haunt a house, a mansion, finding a space in the attic where he can focus on becoming slightly more corporeal and therefore work on his inventions. later, annabel stumbles upon this attic after she moves in, and despite being startled at first she begins to adjust to living alongside hg. they’re besties <3

eventually, annabel decides that the house has been remarkably empty, lately, and she invites a few of her friends - authors, most of them, but her childhood friend as well. hg has heard stories about this friend, but none of them can compare to him finally meeting lenore in person. the whole being incorporeal thing is very handy when it comes to nearly falling into your own soup.

the rest of the story goes very similarly. the murders begin. one by one, our guests are picked off, strangely befitting deaths, thematically. lenore begins to spend more time around hg - he’s a genius and he can’t be killed! he’s, like, the perfect guy! - and they eventually get to talking, and then to befriending. hg tells her his life and death stories, though they’re both terribly boring. lenore, in exchange, tells him about being a runaway bride, her vengeful ex, and something about food poisoning.

hg begins to experiment, using lenore as his hands because becoming corporeal would require too much energy, and he comes up with a way to surveil the house around them without having to leave the attic. they’d be safe. he leaves to set up his newfound cameras eventually.

he comes back. the attic is filled with smoke.

lenore dies in his arms. even in death, herbert george is still a terrible name. he drags her body downstairs only to run into the cops, makes up some unbelievable lie about poison and comas and allergies, and for some reason they take it at face value.

they call in mary shelley, later, the necromancer that brought him back to life, sort of. she’s able to help them reconnect with all of their lost friends, for a moment.

(well. almost all of their lost friends.)

annabel survives. edgar does not.

it turns out that anne brontë is not anne brontë but rather charlotte brontë disguised as her sister, hellbent on revenge for what annabel’s taken from her. or… something. hg isn’t quite sure. but she brings in reinforcements - eduardo “eddie” dantes and a man named guy de vere who sounds far too familiar-

hang on.

they end up outside, eventually, somehow. annabel drives charlotte to the edge of the river. it’s not very deep, but the rocks are slippery and perhaps a little too sharp, and when she slips she doesn’t come back up for a while. she doesn’t come back up at all, some might say.

with nowhere else to go, the fight ends quickly. unfortunately, this leaves hg and annabel in an empty house with more ghosts than before - in both the literal and metaphorical sense, though primarily the latter. they spend their days in a haze, unfocused and lonely, despite still having each other.

and then, one day, as hg is tinkering with his thousandth rendition of a time machine (he’s still holding out hope), the attic fills with smoke once more. he panics on instinct, but there’s no need.

when the smoke clears, lenore is standing in front of him, ghostly and yet beautiful nonetheless.

(and then they get edgar back too and they all live happily ever after etc etc.)

[ineffably-poetic]

this is random BUT!

I found this random dude named Aleister Crowley.

Obviously as a Good Omens fan I got excited.

+ almost the same initials!! AJC and AC. or, without other names, AC and AC!

FIRST OF ALL.

SO MANY COLLEGES.

Second: This man is an occultist which is just kinda cool. Third of all: he founded an entire religion??? Fourth of all, he has the same name as Crowley so of course I had to investigate further.

So here’s some fun facts about Mr Crowley that make me really hope AJC was named after him:

• He was allegedly recruited to be part of a British Intelligence Agency, and was probably a spy his entire life. that’s badass

• Basically his religion, Thelema, was created when this god in Cairo, Egypt gave him a Book of Law on his honeymoon or something. And it was like “you gotta find your true will, and practice majick.” So they made a religion out of it

• Now here’s the best part: he was bisexual. yeah that’s right.

• He dated a guy named Herbert Charles Pollitt, who was part of a comedy club. that’s just really fun

• He LOVED Scotland, and he would wear traditional highland dress even in London

• He was part of the Hermatic Order of the Golden Dawn, but was basically cast out because he was bisexual, which sucks

• He had an affair with Ada Leverson, a woman who was friends with Oscar Wilde

Obviously he did some strange shit too, like a blood sacrifice at one point, and like so many affairs.

But he definitely made his way around and survived a couple diseases, like malaria, as well as both world wars, before dying at the old age of 72 (when the life expectancy was about 64). He was cremated and scattered in his garden in Hampton, New Jersey.

So yeah. There’s my interesting history fact for the day, I guess. Who knows, maybe this guys inspired the Anthony J. Crowley. I don’t have the courage to tag Mr Gaiman so someone else ask haha

bye guys have a good day <3

[james-vi-stan-blog]

I seen you were answering to the other anon so I just wanted to ask some questions:) did King James knew about Mary having George to seduce him?

I’ve seen someone say they’ve explained to people that George was a victim of James. And they’ve also said James had power over him ( taking advantage of his financial situation) and to make George “essentially one of his pets and become extremely obsessive over him” and I’m wondering how? From what I’ve read it never came across like that or I never understood it as that

-☁️

I don't know enough about the details of the Villiers' rise to know exactly, but I think that everyone involved always knew that everyone was associated with some faction or another, and that every handsome young courtier who appeared on the scene as a potential favorite was being backed by someone.

James was king from the age of 15 months. When he came to the English throne at the age of 36, he was an extremely savvy veteran of the intense infighting and backstabbing of the Scottish court. Besides Lennox, he had already had intense relationships with men like Huntly and Bothwell which were steeped in factional drama. In his later years James was savvy to attempts to throw pretty boys in front of him in an attempt to distract him from George and sharply reprimanded the promoters of William Monson, etc.

But at the same time that James was extremely aware of the political maneuverings going on, I think he had a bit of a naive belief in the power of love. In Scotland, he aggressively countered clan blood feuds by marrying nobles to each other, and he constantly forgave Huntly and Bothwell when they professed friendship and love for him -- astonished onlookers watching as he'd embrace and kiss Huntly and go to bed with him right after threatening to raise an army against him. It seemed like he really believed true love could overcome all.

These two contradictory orientations seem to exist within James at the same time.

When George Villiers was rising, Robert Carr, the current favorite and the first since Esmé Stewart to achieve massive political power, was in trouble, gradually withdrawing intimacy from James (maybe because of his marriage to Frances Howard). At this time, James was still trying to repair the relationship with Carr, and did not immediately promote Villiers to the bedchamber, instead doing a favor to Carr and promoting one of Carr's nephews instead. However, Carr failed to regain the king's affections and was disgraced by the Overbury scandal, and Villiers was strongly pushed forward by a large anti-Carr faction including former favorites William and Philip Herbert (the latter of which is "Sir Philip" from Gunpowder 2017), the Archbishop of Canterbury, and also James's wife Queen Anna herself.

Almost all of these people regretted promoting George when George became 10x the grasping politician and megalomaniac that Robert was, lol.

So like, again... if the question here is "Was this an unproblematic relationship? Was James the bad guy? Did George freely choose to enter this relationship? Who used whom?" ... I feel like these are extremely strange attitudes to take about the 17th century.

All relationships were problematic. (I mean, please think for a second about the state of heterosexual marriage at this time.) Everyone was horrible. Nobody was ever able to freely choose anything. Everyone's every action was part of an intricate web of power, politics, desire, manipulation, greed... Sometimes people might try to act unselfishly, or think that they're justified, but there simply is no way for a clean, consensual, egalitarian relationship to exist in this environment. Human rights, such as we recognize them, do not exist. This is 70+ years before John Locke's "life, liberty, and pursuit of property".

This was just what love and politics was like for people in this world. I mean, also consider what kind of life James lived as a cradle king. Every second of every day he was waited on by a huge retinue, every move scrutinized. People could not even enter his presence and converse with him unless they were backed by a political faction and provided with the resources, political connections, rank to enter the very most elite sphere of society. James wasn't just down at the grocery store casually meeting guys, going on cafe dates. (He would never, anyway, because he was terrified of assassination. As you would be when like half of your family was assassinated and there were constant actual attempts at assassinating YOU.)

In this environment, uncoerced, fair love as we see it today cannot exist.

And further, I really don't think that characterizing George as a helpless victim in this situation make sense. As a 21-year-old man, he had the age of majority; he had vastly more freedom to make his own way in life than, say, a daughter would. We cannot know how he felt, so fiction will be an interesting opportunity to explore what he might have subjectively felt like at this time. But we can see from behavior just how skillfully and determinedly he played the game. (I mean, check out this analysis of his finances in 1624.)

Was it demeaning, disgusting, hurtful? Was it glorious, his opportunity to shine, to make himself the most powerful man in England by sheer charm alone? We just can't know, but we can wonder.

[forthegothicheroine]

from the 1980s to the 2010s, what would be your scarecrow cast picks from each decade?

First off, let me establish that I am fine with Hot Scarecrow or Not Hot Scarecrow. Beautiful people can still suffer trauma from school bullying, and non-beautiful people can still have villainous charisma. With that in mind...

80s: Jeffrey Combs, no question. I think he actually voiced Scarecrow on some of the cartoons, but this is more of me wanting a hybrid between his Herbert West and his Doctor Strange Mordrid, a shy academic just on the verge of teetering over into cackling mad scientist.

90s: I thought over a lot of reasonable choices for this, but since this would have been a Batman film from when Burton was at his most creative, I decided on a wilder choice- Alan Rickman. He can keep it cool or ham it up, as he chooses, but I really just want to hear his drawn out voice say ominous things from underneath a burlap bag over his head.

00s: Cillian Murphy is the guy who first made me love Scarecrow, so I'm sticking with him. True, he isn't quite the Scarecrow of the comics, but he is intensely creepy, and if there had been more exploration of his character, I think there could have been more of the comics version in the mix. He started out scaring people in defense, then in revenge, then he came to simply enjoy it.

10s: I was really tempted to pick a skinny teen heartthrob like Timothy Chalamet just for maximum fandom chaos, but I'm going to go for a different kind of fandom chaos and say Kyle MacLachlan. I haven't seen Agents of SHIELD, but I did see Twin Peaks the Return and know he can be creepy. This an older, more professorial Crane, deep into his career, and he can be charming and sweet while you can also believe he murdered every single one of his school bullies and most of his family.

[titleknown]

KAIJUNE NEO: MR BRIGHTSIDE

First of all, I want to tell you, this was not at all my fault. If they'd have listened, if they'd have gone along with the fucking plan, none of this would have happened.

The stupid thing wasn't even alive when they brought it to me. But, even I will humbly admit, it was ingredients of high quality. Primeval flesh frozen by time and strange vapors, the tools of the United States government, the very eitir of the earth...

...Yes, I refuse to call it liquid God. Beyond the apellation of false notions of divinity, it isn't just one thing, there are nuances I would be willing to explain if I believed you had the capacity to understand it. But I digress.

Now, there were initial setbacks. There were the few interlopers, who suggested that I was ethically unfit for this project, that the resource expendatures could be better-used to prevent the beasts out there culling the expendable hordes, that the whole idea of the creation of one of these creatures was deranged vanity project. 

Luckily, the people providing the resources were of like minds, even if their sights was far too low. Leave it to the US military to avoid pretensions of compassion when they see a work to be compleated.

It was going well, at first. Why, I hadn't had this much of a fruitful field since my time with the Blue Rose! They let me be, they didn't say no, and I hadn't had this much access to subjects since... well. The Blue Rose.

I will tell you, it's far easier to test the processes of life and power when they know enough to let you use a few expendables, unlike some idiots.

And then one of these puritanical SHITHEADS had to break in for one of my subjects. I don't even know what the fuss was about, I'd already used up the one he was looking for. And the idiots didn't even shoot him! Just now you get cold feet?! Just now?!

And now it is awake. And ungrateful. What's wrong you giant oaf, I thought you were a god-being, lashing out like a child over a little pain is pathetic!

At least the combative capabilities were functional, as evidenced by the plasma "fires" they still failed to put out. A small blessing, amongst the carnival of incompetence as my handlers failed to handle it.

They use the pretense to call me a creature of hubris, a terminal miles glorosius. They underestimate my skill. 

They even had the gall to call me a Faustian figure, how fucking dare! I would never make a deal with anything I couldn't cut the throat of and sip the juices from their neck.

And I will regain control over this creature, and I will enact my special plan for this world. For who is greater, God or the chymist who built God in a bottle...

-The notes of professor Thomas F. Johnson

-----------------

...So, when starting this I knew I was going to have to have some variety of dinosaur here. Lucjkily I found this cheapo toy at the Swap Meet and, as you can see, heavily modified it. This one out of all of them was one of my favorite models in terms of how it came out, I will say.

I basically picked the name of the poor tormented thing because I just thought Mr Brightside by The Killers sounded like a neat name for a kaiju, also the neon-on-black color scheme was probably a part of it.

If you're wondering why the profoundly evil professor (Who was heavily influenced by Dr Pretorius from Bride of Frankenstein and Jeffrey Combs' Herbert West, for the record) has my name, they're actually a pre-existing character from my Creepypasta Creatures of the Woods, who I made the choice to give my own name despite him being hilariously far from me. 

Again, like Devlin, this is this universe's version of the guy, not the exact same guy... maybe. It's always hard to tell with that jerk...

Ability Notes: One word: Plasma. Of all kinds and horrors, usually sort of a weird electrical fire-y green, though the fact that he's in constant pain makes it hard for him to focus on channeling it beyond wanton destruction. It's theorized where he mentally coherent, he could potentially output pulsar levels of power.

Bonus Trivia: If you want to know Professor Johnson's backstory, just watch the Behind the Bastards episodes about Scott Adams and note what they say about the man's early pre-Dilbert life. Now imagine he'd gone into mad science and things had... escalated.

And, in that grand (exceedingly late) Kaijune tradition, this character and all related narrative elements are under a CC-BY 4.0 license, as long as I, Thomas F Johnson, am credited as their creator. 

[ikkaku-of-heart]

@miskatonicfolly asked: "Don't you think that it's a bit odd that there's suddenly a large influx of new residents to Arkham?" Herbert asked with a slight yawn. He shifted the voice box of the den den to be able to hold it better as he scribbled notes. It was getting later but it had been difficult to actually get a call through to Ikkaku recently and he didn't want to lose the opportunity. Unprompted

Ikkaku pursed her lips in thought as she took in Herbert's words. She'd gotten the call on her personal den den mushi, much to the surprise of Hakugan who had been feeding the ship's snails, and had been pleasantly surprised that it was Herbert, who had decided she needed to be filled in on the recent developments back on Joras. The doctor, despite his wonky ethics and disturbing experiments, had become a trusted friend and if he found something suspicious, she knew to take it seriously.

"Depends on what you mean. New residents to the city of Arkham is exactly what the islanders want. It means that people are starting to look past the freaky history and old superstitions and see the island as worth living on. Gets them closer to being seen by the World Government as respectable." She had to grimace at that thought. A lot of what the islanders had done in the past century had been in the vain hope of the World Government respecting them instead of being seen as a superstitious backwater. "And you know damn well anything the World Government approves of is typically bad news."

Laying back on her bed, Ikkaku stared at the ceiling, her brow furrowing further. "But if you're talking about an influx of residents to Arkham Hospital...yeah, that's bad no matter how you look at it. Last time that happened was the Siren Plague, and I don't think Joras would survive a third of the population getting wiped out again. And I definitely don't want lobotomies to come back into fashion."

With a sigh, she rubbed her forehead. How was it that despite leaving that horrible place in the dust she still cared just a tiny bit about the people there? Even though they'd treated her like shit?

Oh. Right. Gramps. He'd taught her well that even though the people didn't deserve it, it was their job to protect the thankless fools who depended on the Light to protect them.

"Ok, have any other noticeable things been going on that could be a connection? People noticeably going mad? Or is this being kept quiet?"

[applesontheground]

your own prometheus 💉

CHAPTER SEVEN something inside your head | AO3

small sidenote: this photo makes me cackle every time i see it and i’m including it in this.

SFW | Word Count: 4,245 | Herbert West x GN Reader x Daniel Cain

contains canon typical/gore, beginnings of the Angst

⬅ continued from like minds broken, like minds breaking free ➡ continued in robbing me of my rightful chances 🔁 start at the beginning with letting me in or letting me go

He was starting to get déjà vu from what he saw: three friends in the lobby of a hospital, two in white coats and one holding a stack of papers. Every time he seemed to stumble on it, the moods were shifting. Less stiff upper lips, blank glances when one of the others talked. This time, everyone stood a little bit closer together. One of them even laughed.

The courier’s lips turned upwards as [he/she/they] looked away from the man on [his/her/their] right, and he could almost hear the scoff under [his/her/their] breath that came out in the form of a jerk of [his/her/their] body, finally opening their mouth to speak to the taller man on the left.

“Dan, can you believe that?”

“Well, you’ve been staring at those three for long enough.” Graves idled down the hall, seeing Dyer turn with an expression of stale bemusement. The officer shook his head as he muttered, “I don’t know what to make of [Y/N]. [He/she’s / They’re] still friends with those two after everything I’ve been trying to get at. We can’t talk about it out loud, but I mean… [Y/N] lives with them, and can’t sense that murderous intent?” Graves furrowed his brow as Dyer continued, “The unattainable urges coming off them?” He gave Dan another stare, seeing how he looked down at the courier with a fond smirk, hands in his pockets as he fawned over them continuing to laugh at a joke that had long passed the moment. He corrected himself, “Off of West, anyways.”

The pathologist gave him a doubtful huff, but the man went on, “I mean that, they were caught doing unspeakable things here, and now thanks to a few redacted notes they have jobs again after a short stint in Peru. If only [he/she/they] had any idea what West and Cain were capable of. What atrocities probably take place in that house they all share, and somehow [he’s/she’s / they’re] none the wiser.”

“I saw you eating peanut butter straight out of the jar last night. Care to explain yourself?” You looked up from the papers in your arm, seeing Dan give that look that was half joking and half serious in his interrogation. Before you could even consider changing the subject, you sniffed dryly, “Oh yeah? When would you have seen me do that?”

Herbert spoke almost like he was reimagining it, watching movement in the lobby rather than zeroing in on you; that was what Dan seemed to be there for. “2 AM. We both saw you do it, so don’t try to play the hypothetical.”

You started squinting at the taller of them with returned eye contact, “Well, what were you guys doing up so late?” Dan ignored the question and muttered quietly, keeping it gentle with the tone despite nitpicking, “That jar was bought for everyone in the house. Not just for you to eat plain at ungodly hours.” You stifled another wince, trying to keep your expression relaxed while Herbert chastised in your other ear, “You didn’t even look like you were awake while doing it.”

You rolled your eyes, then slowly asked, “…Have you also been eating the-“

“No, we haven’t been eating the peanut butter, [Y/N].” Dan interrupted you, shaking his head while you cringed at his tone, but he finally smirked in a way like he couldn’t believe what he was saying while you merely bit back laughter, glancing between him and the other one as everyone finally just let the subject go, the humor in it coming as a quaint comfort. Normalcy felt like a good fit, even when temporary – and over a rather embarrassing habit of yours on top of that.

It was strange to have a quiet night at the house where not only Dan was upstairs sharing the space with you, but Herbert as well. They both took the sofa, the mess of textbooks splayed out on the coffee table while you were in the chair on the other side of the living room, stretched out with your back against one arm and your legs dangling over the other. Unconventional, but in character, as Herbert had observed aloud when he came to join you.

It would’ve put you on edge to be with them for reasons relating to their research if you weren’t sidetracked from what you had nearly walked in on the night before. Still, it didn’t really change much about your feelings towards either of them the more you thought about it. Herbert still scared the hell out of you, and Dan… well, he was Dan. You couldn’t bring yourself to be cold with him, even if he was having something under wraps while making advances with you simultaneously. Again, the ability anything had to surprise you was drawing thinner and thinner in each passing day.

The relationship did make what was between the two of you confusing, though. You had spent all of the last few weeks considering your feelings for him, but now you were just lost on it as a whole once again. Even sitting there, you figured that keeping not just him, but both of them at arm’s length was more of a necessary tactic than something you wanted to do.

Still, that didn’t mean you couldn’t socialize. The house was definitely big enough for the three of you, and avoiding each other would be another battle. Plus, gave you a decent alibi with them: stay in sight, no need for constant interrogations on who you were talking to or where you could’ve gone. At least, in your own head it all made sense. Enough to keep you idly drawing while a fierce wind blew outside, clouds hiding a nearly full moon and making the world appear dark beyond the porch of what once was a mortuary.

What were you supposed to do about the little that you understood about these two? Tell someone? Hide out in your bedroom all day? The reality of what went on behind closed doors – both regarding the mystery of the missing body parts and the mystery of Dan and Herbert – were Dan and Herbert’s burden to bear, and not yours if you could manage that much.

“Oh, by the way,” You took the scissors sitting under your sketchbook, starting to shear out one of your pages, “Herbert, I redrew a diagram from your notebook that you left out the other day. Might as well just give it to you now so I don’t find my things in the basement again.” He gave you a surprised glance from over the book as you leaned slightly from the chair, tossing the sheet you had just severed onto the coffee table. Both men’s eyes settled with it, and Dan’s expression solidified with a light, petrified clench of his jaw as he murmured, “You drew that?”

“I can only stare at the pictures you two have laying around so much before wanting to take inspiration.” You scoffed as Herbert held up the page, mulling over it. “If anyone would understand that I’d think it’d be you two.”

“[Y/N], that’s really well done and all, but you shouldn’t be-“ Dan began, and Herbert suddenly cut him off, “It’s good.” It made you smirk a little, heat blanketing your face as he continued to stare, and even observed, “You have a remarkable handle on anatomy despite not being in the profession, [Y/N].” Dan gave you another bothered glance, and you shrugged at him. Part of you just wanted to spit it out, I’m doing my best to make myself useful around here, but you saved it as Herbert then set it down and asked, “If I gave you another, would you…?”

Perking up again, you inhaled to answer and Dan was now interrupting, “Maybe another time. [Y/N] has other projects she’s working on.” He paused, giving you another look. “Right?”

“…Right.” You once again gave the hold both of them had on your attention slack, and sat back in your position on the chair, its arm digging into your spine as you shifted your eyes back down to see you had idly began trimming another page. The eyeball that you had drawn was perfectly sheared down the middle, two halves of the pupil staring up at you from your book and the other from the coffee table in silent question.

“And then I tell them, That arrest record was nulled before I was born. How the hell could I get it for you? What do I look like, the necromancer of paperwork!?” You joked to the receptionist, smiling as they snickered in reply. Little things were what made you able to traverse the days, even though sleep was dwindling down to a few hours a night. The rest of those long hours between sunset and sunrise were devoted to listening to the house settle and tearing your own idea of your roommates apart in your mind’s apparitions of them rather than try to find solace in a quiet room without the hints of human agony and confused fighting seeping through the vents.

A nurse suddenly stopped in front of you and the counter, half in a hurry but willing to pause on her route to ask a question. “Hey, do either of you have your key card on you? I left mine back in the main offices on the fourth floor, need to get into a room down here.”

“Oh, absolutely. Here, le-“ You had pulled out your ID card from its usual home in your shirt’s pocket, giving it a split second scan before dropping it back in while neither of them had the chance to see it emerge. “Huh, I-I…I might not actually have it.” You then lied in the same breath, hand slapping your chest in a fabricated search for it, “Sorry, ma’am.”

The nurse huffed, “Darn, really? Well, no big deal. Thanks.” As she trotted off, already asking someone else for help and leaving your saccharine expression to wither, you turned to look down the hall as though what you wanted to scorn would come striding your way at the mere glance.

Not today, though, leaving you to vent your frustration in the form of a tedious sigh and a walk along to the doors. It wasn’t even a panicked sort of realization that he had taken something from you anymore, and rather you jumped right to where it could be. Something was starting to erode in your headspace from the constant worry, the knowledge you wished you didn’t have, and what took its place was beginning to get a clue.

You jiggled the handle to the basement door, the usual inability to turn failing you as your eyes widened and the door started to move. When it wasn’t in the usual state of eternally locked, it was rather loose and quick to hinge inwards. Before taking another step forward, you called down the stairs, “Herbert? Dan?”

When nothing came back up, not even a sound that indicated someone was there, you looked back down the hall and paused to listen in towards the kitchen and living room. When there wasn’t anything besides a single bird calls from outside the walls, you finally slipped past the doorframe and took the first step downwards.

You couldn’t remember which intestine this was from your plethora of anatomy classes that you had back in grade school. Speculating casually was the only way you could keep your screams to yourself, almost holding your breath as you felt the sweat start to bead against your forehead and really processed that it was a human-sized organ sitting out in the open. First the arm, then the…guy, and now this. It wasn’t necessarily worse than what you had faced previously, but still not a discovery that made you feel fuzzy on the inside.

“[Y/N].” Your body started to turn towards the voice before your eyes could take themselves from the table, but finally you sent a wary expression up at Herbert as he stood at the top of the stairs, watching you remain silent and not try to evade him or what you had walked into.

You should’ve been terrified. Ignoring the way the organ gleamed under the faulty lights made your stomach flip, you then turned your body to fully face the man and crossed your arms. “Something of mine is missing. I assumed it would be here.” You murmured, your voice somehow remaining stern despite the sickly waiver coming in and out. Herbert replied, “What are you talking about?” He didn’t look away as he finished traversing down the stairs, eyeing the scene just behind you once before fixating back onto you, “I can’t believe I’m asking this again, but how did you get down here?”

You shrugged, struggling to trust the sound of your own answer: “Someone left the door unlocked. Usually, I need a special clearance to find myself in a place I shouldn’t be, but…” You trailed off, being the first to look away from him now as you went on, “My work I.D. went missing.”

“Are you accusing me of taking it?” Herbert asked without missing a beat, and your jaw slacked under your pursed lips. You hadn’t even said anything yet, and it was all you needed to hear as you uncrossed your arms, fingers worming into your shirt pocket to pull out the card you had laid eyes on earlier.

“I have reason to believe so.” You simply stated, holding the I.D. between your index and middle fingers so he could see his own disgruntled photo staring back at him. “Any reason we’re playing games today, Dr. West?”

He glared at the use of the title, making you bite back a grin as you held it out to him. Still an island away, the space between where he stood at the foot of the steps and where you remained by the metal table was an eternity of a wavering silence. One that wouldn’t last, and sure didn’t sit soundly between your tight gaze and his smothering glare. He took the card with a quick sleight of hand, careful not to ghost over your own fingers while doing so. Even you pulled your hand back a little too quickly when releasing your grip, still looking on expectantly.

“You have an abnormal amount of access to the hospital. It was necessary to a greater interest.” He stated, as if that would even be close to touch the surface of what you were trying to fathom. You stepped a half inch to the side, body turning halfway between him and the organ before the both of you. “This was the greater interest?” You clarified, and he merely rolled his eyes.

Like a snake rearing to strike, he then stood a little taller and scrutinized, “You wouldn’t understand, and I don’t know why I thought you would.” Although you had felt that comment, you let it bounce off of you for the time, eyes trailing down before catching on the innards one last time. Part of you suddenly shot forward in the form of words, chin tipping back up. “Well, I’m more than willing to stay out of it,” You agreed, ignoring a twilight of disappointment that shone through a sour frown and a slight tilt of his head. You then insisted, “but despite that, I’m not leaving without getting that key card back.” You scoffed, “You seem to have forgotten that I spend so much time at Miskatonic, it’s practically an asset to my commute.”

He then asked, “What are you going to do with such an extensive authority to the hospital?” You replied, “Nothing, I just do what I need to-”

“Liar.”

Your eyes snapped wide at the interruption, “You’re the liar!” You turned back around, and feeling the anger crawling in your throat you asked, “W-whose guts are these? Sherman Robinson’s? The body that came walking up these fucking stairs a couple nights ago?” You pointed to the staircase again, “The missing cadaver from the hospital that you and Dan supposedly know nothing about?”

Herbert didn’t waiver as you stepped closer, almost nose to nose as you added, “I might show up where I shouldn’t sometimes, but you’ve been the one taking my notebooks…my key cards, my work.” You laughed, “And the last I checked, I haven’t laid a damn finger on any of your stolen body parts unless I needed to stop it from trying to tear me a new one. The most I’ve done is…” You stopped, then recalled with a slightly horrified ring to your voice, “…Bring that vial home from Pathology.”

Herbert’s stare became less abrasive, watching you start to falter in your fury. You finally swallowed the distaste in your tone and repeated, “Look. I do apologize for intruding, but I had my reasons. Just give me the key card back. I…I’ll leave you to your business, you can-“

“[Y/N], how can either of us deny your interest? You said that you wanted answers.” The venom was absent from his tone now, and you once again met eyes with him, any arrogance slipping down the drain of your disposition in place of the standard unassuming muteness. He tipped his head, gesturing towards the table, “Here. Everything you’ve been wanting to know is right here if only you took a second to really look.” You were locked in place for another pause as he turned, but he didn’t start to walk until you followed, staring over his shoulder as you motioned to move.

You stood on one side, the one with the most distance from the intestine. He eyed it, like you weren’t even there watching as he then moved towards a bag sitting on a stool towards the back of the room. There were a few different areas of the basement, ones you hadn’t even begun to look into. Usually, what you saw on the first side of the room was enough for you. Your eyes flickered to the stairs, wondering if you’d ever leave but then disregarding the thought when a neon flash of green caught your eyes.

“This is what gives me the leeway. The essence of kinetic energy, enough proteins to disturb even the deepest of our eternal sleep.” Herbert explained, the vial in one hand and a syringe in another. He stuck the needle into the thin cap, and the light moved from one vessel to the other.

Your brow furrowed, shook from the pressure as you looked from what he was doing to his face again. “Well, what are you going to do?” You asked.

Herbert gave you a careful look, chin tipped towards the table as he pointed the needle towards the intestine. “Isn’t it obvious?”

His eyes then darted behind you, and before you could turn an iron grip going around your torso scared you into mustering the energy to breathe, and you did so in a gutted yelp, “Dan-!”

He didn’t answer, only hoisting you to walk backwards and up the stairs again. “Goddamn it, Herbert, I told you-“ He spoke between grappling you, doing your best to keep up with where he wanted you to walk with a glance over your shoulder, “Not to bring [him/her/them]- Into this-“ He turned his body, swiveling you like a ragdoll and making your feet knock against the stairs. You cried, “Ow, hey-!“

He set you on your feet, knees wobbling as you gained your balance. “[Y/N]-” He attempted to speak to you now but lost his words as you braced the wall in front of you, pulling back from him with wide eyes.

Both of you were silent, staring into each other’s ghastly expressions. It was home, it was solidarity; the feelings you got from his shivering exhale was enough to make you plead, “How many times will I have to ask you what’s going on down there?” You couldn’t help the next question, Dan trying to talk but being drowned out by the utter shock in your voice, “Is that what the hospital doesn’t want to talk about?”

“A mishandling of it is what they won’t speak of. Not done by me, nor by Dan, mind you.” Herbert answered, stepping out from the dark and closing the basement door behind him. He shot an irritated glance at the other man, “We have a much better understanding of it now. Having done more trials, I’ve spent most of my time not at work working towards something more docile, manageable.”

“It will never be manageable, Herbert!” Dan yelled, throwing an arm at the door and becoming irate, “You’ve been working with the re-agent for goddamn years at this point and it’s always been this…big, violent mess!”

Re-agent, you mouthed with a long look at the door. The words were there, pulling forth the definitions but not cultivating any sort of sense. That green serum was an agent for…Rejuvenating? Repurposing? The word was on the tip of your tongue, but you were pulled back in with Dan turning towards you again.

“[Y/N], I don’t tell you this to keep you in the dark, or to confuse you, alright? I tell you this to protect us- You.” Herbert and you both caught that, gnawing on your bottom lip to repress the look of disbelief you wanted to pull as he stammered, “You don’t know what kind of damage that research can do to someone, believe me. I’ve been…helping Herbert for awhile now, and it’s-“

“What, damaged you?” Herbert scoffed, “You’ve been just as ingrained within this work and mad for the truths of the re-agent as I have, Daniel.” Dan gave him a signal with his face, one you missed as he turned away from you, but guessing from the way it silenced the other man you figured it wasn’t nice.

He turned back to you, and lowered his voice, “It’s confusing, and I’ve seen it hurt people before. People who…don’t know what to do with the findings, and i-it’s…torn things apart.” He looked you straight in the eyes, almost gutting you as he then repeated himself, “Torn people apart.”

You felt the posture of the man standing beside him change again, just like it had when you had spoken about Pathology. Before anything else could be said, Dan made a beeline for the living room, walked straight through and out of sight.

Herbert then walked by at a slower pace, and you averted his stare until he finally held your card out to you. Silent, you took it, not caring that your clammy hands had slid past his fingertips while doing so this time. He uncomfortably straightened his posture, but caused you to look up again as he assured you, “He’s seen a lot in our trials, [Y/N]. You did nothing wrong in simply being curious.”

As he left you with that and also walked down the hall, you leaned against the wallpaper to your back and stared at the basement door. You slid the I.D. card into your pocket, and with a deep breath went to the closet where you hung your coat.

You weren’t upset, but something had snapped with how messy Dan’s insistence had been. He didn’t want to tell you? He didn’t let Herbert tell you? That was how it was going to be, and although it hurt more than you had once anticipated it would when it came down to it, you found that you could live with that – but you couldn’t live with being so goddamn confused any more.

Lucky for you, answers were easy to find for someone who pushed the papers.

A part of you felt as though you were betraying everything you had stood for up until now, the very notion that you had left without telling either of them enough of a nonverbal betrayal to signal to them you were not to be trusted from this night on, but you pressed the worry down as you walked the halls of Miskatonic. You were off the clock, and here at a time where both Dan and Herbert weren’t, but you knew who was working.

He was slimy, he gave you all sorts of pins and needles with how he spoke…but he could be of use after what you had nearly seen. Dyer was in the lobby, speaking to a doctor with a hand resting on his hip as he spoke with that smirk that sent a nasty rush down your spine. When he saw you standing on the other side of the waiting room, he nearly lit up. “Courier, never thought I’d see you here after hours. Must have gotten the guts to come looking for something.” Bile pricked your throat at that choice of word, but you remained stock still as he supposed, “I’m guessing Cain and West are giving you the ol’ smoke and mirrors, not telling you what they’ve done or what they could do?”

You didn’t answer that, uncomfortably swallowing as you reminded him, “You said you had something to show me.”

His grin fell, and he swooned in a relieved tone, “Atta [boy/girl/do it].” He walked to the closest corridor, and with a slide of his own keycard opened the door to Pathology for you, letting you step into the dark room before closing it behind the both of you.

“Sure Graves won’t mind us in here.” He assured you, but it brought nothing of the sort to your throbbing headache.

[ao3feed-crimeboys]

thick skull never did (nothing for me)

by Peachy_crow

Wilbur has only ever known this little church, serving the Blood God. His whole life revolves around it, he's not allowed to leave, but he's fine with that.

at least he thinks so, until a strange blonde teen keeps showing up and annoying him.

or,

Blood God!Tommy, Priest! Wilbur and a whole lot of angst and religious trauma :D

Words: 5139, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Fandoms: Dream SMP

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence

Categories: Gen

Characters: Wilbur Soot, TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Original Male Character(s), Samsung Smart Fridge (Dream SMP), yes yes I think I'm hilarious

Relationships: Wilbur Soot & TommyInnit

Additional Tags: Mentioned Jschlatt (Video Blogging RPF), Fictional Religion & Theology, Blood God TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Priest Wilbur Soot, Blood, Blood and Gore, Blood and Injury, Self-Harm, Human Sacrifice, Character Death, religious trauma, Religious Cults, i think thats everything, please let me know if i should tag anything else, fuck herbert all my homies hate the guy I made up to hate, no beta we die like hmmm spoilers

[twistedtummies2]

Barnaby - The Three Best of the Worst

“Babes in Toyland” is a very strange case when it comes to Christmastime staples. Most people haven’t even seen or heard the original operetta created by Victor Herbert (who was inspired by the works of L. Frank Baum), and the actual story changes depending on which of the many televised adaptations (and even a few newer stage interpretations) you look at. Certain things do stay the same throughout them all, but virtually none of them have any real faithfulness to the source material, instead mixing and matching different elements to create their own unique version.

The one thing that practically every version of “Babes in Toyland” keeps, however, is its central antagonist: Barnaby, the Crooked Man of Mother Goose fame. Barnaby is a classic melodrama villain; a pure evil nasty of the highest order, who is entertaining in how unrepentantly and enthusiastically wicked he is. While elements of his character do change throughout different versions, he is an archetypal baddy in every rendition, and while other things in “Toyland” change from version to version - the names of the protagonists, the plots of the stories, and even the songs featured - Barnaby is a presence in every single one. Toyland just isn’t Toyland without its resident nasty ol’ Crooked Man. Out of the numerous takes on “Babes in Toyland,” and numerous takes on Barnaby in turn, everybody has a personal favorite of their own. Today, I just wanted to present my three favorite versions of the character. By extension, you can basically call this my three favorite versions of “Babes in Toyland” as well. Again, there are others out there - a cult classic 80s version starring Keanu Reeves, an episode of the Shirley Temple Show which featured Jonathan Winters as Barnaby, etc. - but these are the three nearest and dearest to my heart. So, without further ado, allow me to present my picks for My Top 3 Favorite Portrayals of Barnaby!

3. Ray Bolger, from the 1961 Disney Film.

The Disney version is probably the best-known take on “Babes in Toyland” nowadays (most likely because it IS the Disney version, so to speak). While the film is a bit clumsy in places, it’s still a lot of fun. Most people agree that the two best parts of the film come in the form of two actors/characters. One is Ed Wynn as the bumbling Toymaker…mostly because it’s Ed Wynn. The other, of course, is Barnaby, played by Ray Bolger. If that name or face seems familiar, Bolger - almost two decades prior to the film - was one of the main characters in a little film from the late 30s I’m sure none of you have heard of called “The Wizard of Oz.” Yes, boys and girls: that’s the Scarecrow! And ironically, I think he and the Wicked Witch would get along splendidly in this outing. Bolger’s charisma is a big part of what makes his Barnaby such a joy; the performance, writing, and direction all REALLY ham the character up to the Nth degree, take this already melodramatic archetype and making him a pure pantomime villain. He breaks the fourth wall, he dances, he gets into a swordfight, he makes all of the crazy faces you’d expect, he even speaks in rhyme! He wears the cape, he twirls the moustache, he’s everything you’d want out of a bad guy like this in spades. Bolger is clearly having the time of his life with this over-the-top slimeball, and it’s just a joy to watch him work. My only problem with this Barnaby, and the reason he’s the lowest in the ranks, is that while Barnaby has always been a hammy character with a humorous side to his personality, I think I prefer it when there’s a bit more balance between the humor and the menace. There are one or two moments where Bolger’s Barnaby is actually pretty threatening (the aforementioned swordfight is a good example), but for the most part he’s just a riot. That’s not a bad thing, because he truly is a ton of fun to watch, I guess I just like it when the character is a LITTLE more menacing.

2. Christopher Plummer, from the 1997 Animated Film.

This TV film adaptation of the story (or is it direct-to-video? There seem to be conflicting accounts there.) is not highly regarded, and admittedly for good reason. Of the three versions listed here, it’s probably the least well-made of the bunch. It’s not God-Awful, but it’s very…“generic 90s animated kids movie,” if that phrase gives you any idea. However, I have a soft spot for this film, largely because it’s actually the first version of “Babes in Toyland” I ever saw. And even as a kid, my favorite character was always the villain of the story: Christopher Plummer as Barnaby Crookedman. (Yes, that is literally his full name in this version, as if his identity needed to be spelled out.) Plummer brings that extra little touch of menace to the part that I felt largely lacking in Bolger’s interpretation; he’s still overall a melodrama villain, but here there’s a bit more balance. In a weird way, Barnaby here feels more like a Disney Villain than…well…the ACTUAL Disney Villain version of Barnaby is! Something else I admire is that they actually give a small amount of empathy to the character in this version: it’s strongly indicated that the reason Barnaby is so cruel and nasty is because, as a child, he was never shown love. He’s never had any friends, never had any toys to play with, and that’s left him crooked both inside and out. However, don’t go thinking that means there’s much reason to sympathize with or feel sorry for Barnaby: this version does some of the absolute worst things of any take on the character, and shows no sign of remorse for any of his actions. There’s no redemption for Barnaby, no matter what his origins; he’s too far gone. Plummer gives a solid performance in the role, and this remains among my Top 12 of his characters just for the sheer nostalgia of it all. Again, the movie overall isn’t too great, but this is one of the first versions I still think of when I think of Barnaby.

1. Henry Brandon, from the 1934 Laurel & Hardy Film.

Laurel & Hardy’s “Babes in Toyland” was first released in 1934 in black-and-white; later the film was re-released in a colorized format (as you can see via the pictorial reference) and retitled “March of the Wooden Soldiers.” (I have no idea why.) What I love most about this film is that, despite being a Laurel & Hardy venture, this actually isn’t a parody piece: unlike some later films of a similar nature, such as “Snow White and the Three Stooges” or the Abbott & Costello Meet the Monsters series, which are basically comedic satires of the characters or stories involved, “Babes in Toyland” is treated more like a straightforward fantasy/fairy-tale film. It definitely DOES have a comedic side to it, of course, but rather than mocking the universe in question or contrasting it sharply with the silliness of the comedians involved, it just treats Laurel & Hardy as if they are just characters in the story, so to speak. The film isn’t afraid to get a bit dark and intense at times, and this is most evident with Barnaby. Played by Henry Brandon (nee Kleinbach), Silas Barnaby, as he’s called in this version, definitely has some humorous scenes. There’s absolutely no subtlety to the role at all. But unlike Bolger, Brandon brings an edge of danger and something bordering on the edge of insanity with the character, which makes his Barnaby feel far more intimidating. He gets involved in some slapstick, but the shrieking laugh he lets out as he tries to summon man-eating monsters, the almost animalistic ferocity he shows in his duel with Tom-Tom Piper, and near-demonic expression he has on his face as he leads his forces to invade Toyland at the climax, all give him a definite darkness that no other version of Barnaby has really been able to match. On top of that, there’s a sort of unintentional empathy to this Barnaby, as well: it’s a long story, but contemporary audiences have noted there are elements of Brandon’s performance and the script that hint there might be a soft side to Barnaby under his devilish demeanor. While likely not intended by the actor, nor the writers, they’re still interesting to note. In other words, this Barnaby has everything both of the previous Barnabys I’ve spoken of have in spades, and he’s in a generally better (albeit older) movie! This is the version I now think of first and foremost when I think of Barnaby, or even when I think of the Crooked Man from Mother Goose. That, above all else, earns him the meaningless title of My Favorite Portrayal of Barnaby from “Babes in Toyland.” Happy Christmas Eve, everybody!

[xandriagreat]

Teaching and Learning with The Paw | chapter 2: Granny Gumbo

First chapter | Last Chapter | Next Chapter

Author's note: This story is ALIVE! Sorry that it's been so long. Writer's block… but anyway, story! Also, a hug thank you to @vanessafangirl13 for helping me with this chapter and to let you all know that the names of Diane’s parents is something that we both chose.

Notice/Warnings: weapons, anger, sad past, good ending

▪▪▪

Governor Moe Wolf drove to the hideout of the Paw with his team/friends.

The hideout is in the abandoned part of the city.

He parked his car and got out of his car before they went inside by the garage door.

They looked around at the almost empty house.

There were a few boxes that were filled with the treasures that Diane had stolen over the years and there were some folded cardboard boxes.

The only things that weren’t packed were things behind a locked bedroom door.

Lou picked up the folded cardboard boxes and carried them as the five went to unlock the door.

“You still got your lockpicks?” Herbert asked, looking at Moe.

“You know that I do.” the wolf answered, taking out lockpicks. He started to pick the lock and got the door opened, turning the lights on.

They entered the room and looked around in curiosity.

The room looked ordinary. It felt it was fit for what a child would think a princess bed room would be but it also had a punk rock feel.

The walls were painted a crimson red golden lining, and the carpet was black.

A metal bed frame with white and black sheets over the mattress. There were pick and yellow pillowcases on her bed along with an orange comforter over the bed.

Up against the wall on the left side of the bed was an old-fashioned drawer. There was a chair in the cournor that faced the bed. A desk against the wall and a medium sized window above it.

There were a few photos, some rock and roll posters, and some ninja posters on the wall.

There was an old TV with VHS and DVD player on top of a TV stand. On the lower shelf of the TV stand was a CD player, some CDs and DVDs.

“Wow.” all five of The Bad Guys breathed as they looked around.

“Strange.” Stefaine said under her breath as she looked at her phone.

"What's wrong?" Lou asked, looking at her on his shoulder.

“These things aren’t on the stolen list.” Stefaine said, looking up to look at everyone, who were looking at her confused. “Look.”

She showed them her phone to show the list.

The things in the room weren’t on the list.

“That is strange.” Herbert said before shrugging. “But we should still get things packed.”

Everyone nodded as they got some of the folded cardboard boxes unfolded and taped.

Before they started packing, Moe looked at the photos on the walls.

“Hey, guys. Look at this.” the wolf said, pointing at the photos.

The team looked at the photos.

There were a few photos of a young fox and her parents. One of the photos was of the same young fox and an alligator. Another was the same young fox with a young bunny rabbit.

The young fox looked like Diane.

“Hey, the little fox looks like Diane!” Pepe exclaimed, pointing at the photos. “That’s probably Diane.” Lou said, looking at him.

Then they heard the clicking sound of a shotgun behind them. All five turned around and saw an old female alligator, who was holding a shotgun.

“You all have a lot of explaining to do to be here in the Foxington residence, trespassers.” the alligator growled at them.

☆◇

The Bad Guys were sitting on the bed and looked in fear at the old female alligator who was sitting in the chair across the bed.

The alligator was wearing an off white button up shirt, brown overalls, black boots, and a dark green sunhat.

“I’m not into politics but why is the governor of LA and his team here?” the alligator asked in a stern tone, glaring at them as she still held the shotgun. “Why are you five in my god daughter’s home?”

The Bad Guys looked at the wolf as if he could explain. “Um… well, we’re like friends of Diane’s. And she literally gave directions to this place so we could give everything that she had stolen back to the places she stole.” Moe explained, looking at the alligator again.

The alligator glared at him and pointed the shotgun at him. “I don’t believe you, mutt dog.” she growled at him. “Unless you have evidence.”

The fear in Moe’s eyes became a glared look. “Don’t call me that.” he said, a serious look on his face. “Also, we do have evidence.”

The alligator lowered her gun and placed it on her lap. The alligator ignored him as she looked at the others and asked, “Is he tellin' the truth?”

The others nodded.

"Show me." she ordered, stretching her clawed hand out to them.

Moe was about to get the map, that Diane gave him at the gala, from his suit jacket but Herbert stopped him. “Wait. Let’s make a deal first.” the snake said, looking at his friends before looking at the alligator.

“What is the deal?” the alligator asked, a growl in her voice as she pulled her hand back.

Herbert looked at her, his eyes cold, as he said, “We show evidence if you answer some questions that we have about Diane. Also, if we don’t get shot by your shotgun, we don’t need to file a report on you. As far as I can tell, your shotgun is old fashioned and not a lot of places can sell that. So…” Then Herbert shrugged with a bit of a smug look on his face. “Do we have an agreement?”

The gang watched the alligator, who was thinking if it was a good deal or not. “We do.” the gator said, nodding. Then she stretched her claw hand out again and Moe got the map out as the rest of the gang sigh in relief.

The alligator snatched it from him and looked at it. Then she got a piece of paper from her pocket and looked at both papers, comparing the two.

The silence was a bit awkward for a while until Stefaine spoke up, “So… you must be Granny Gumbo. Right?”

The alligator stopped comparing the two papers and looked at Stefanie. “I am known by that name in my small town in the woods.” The alligator replied. “My actual name is Gretel Nyx Gumbo, but a lot of people call me Granny Gumbo for I’m one of the living elders of the town.”

Stefanie hummed and nodded with the others.

Granny Gumbo gave the map back to Moe. “I see that you were tellin’ the truth.” the alligator said as she put the piece of paper back in her pocket.

The Bad Guys sighed in relief.

"You all probably have some questions, since you mentioned it in the deal." Granny Gumbo said, placing the shotgun next to her seat. "You can ask questions. Just don't ask about the Lost Girls. I only met them a few times."

The Bad Guys nodded in understanding.

“I have a question!” Pepe said, raising his fin.

Granny Gumbo nodded to him. “Go ahead.”

“So… is all the stuff in this room stolen or was the stuff here before?” the piranha asked, pointing at the tv.

Granny Gumbo looked at the room before looking at Pepe. “The stuff has been here before Diane became The Paw. This is Diane’s childhood room. Actually, this house is her childhood home, the place where she grew up.” she replied, smiling a bit.

Pepe was in awe as he looked around the room as the rest of the gang hummed, figuring that Granny Gumbo was done with the question.

Moe raised his hand to ask the next question. Granny Gumbo noticed his hand and nodded to him to let him speak. “So, um… How do you know Diane?” Moe asked.

Granny looked at him for a moment before answering, “Owen and Margaret Foxington, Diane’s parents, used to have a summer home long before she came along. They were like my neighbors during the summer time. We didn’t get to know each other a lot until Diane came along and was at the age of three years old. That little fox was very curious about me. So curious that she walked over to me while I was resting in the sun. I was surprised to see her by me.”

Then pointed at the photo of the little fox and alligator on the wall. “See that photo there? That’s me and Diane on the last summer before that horrible day happened.”

The Bad Guys were shocked and confused by this. “What do you mean?” Stefaine asked the question.

Granny looked at the five and asked, “Do you five know about The Nevergreen Camps?”

Herbert, Moe, Lou, and Stefaine were shocked while Pepe was confused. “I don’t.” Pepe said, looking at his friends. “What is that? Or what was it?”

Everyone in the room was quiet for a moment. “Remember what happened during the second world war?” Herbert asked, looking at Pepe.

The piranha nodded. “Yeah. I learned what happened. It was another big war and a lot of lives were lost. And those scary camps… What does that have to do with The Nevergreen Camps?”

“It’s similar to the camps but it’s more for predators and it was a bit more recent.” Granny Gumbo answered.

Pepe’s eyes widened. “How recent?”

“22 years ago.” Granny Gumbo said, a sound of a bit of sadness in her voice. “She was only eight years old at the time. She was ten years old when it was over.”

Pepe was in shock with everyone else while Granny Gumbo shrugged before continuing, “Anyway, with that aside. The number on her back is branding like on cattle or prisoner numbers way back in the day…”

The Bad Guys nodded, still in shock.

Granny Gumbo sighed, taking her hat off and rubbing her head with her free hand. “Do you all have any more questions?” she asked, putting her hat back on.

Pepe raised his hand again and asked, “Who was in charge of the Nevergreen?”

Granny looked at the piranha and shrugged. “It… depends on who you see is at fault.” she explained, looking at him.

“What do you mean?” four of the Bad Guys asked in confusion, not seeing the one ask becoming red.

“It was Everett Evergreen!” Herbert shouted angrily, getting up from his seat. “He was the one who wanted predators locked away and turned into animal products!”

Granny Gumbo got up from her seat and looked down at Herbert. “I know.” she growled, a dangerous look in her eye. “But he wasn’t the only one at fault.”

Moe carefully grabbed Herbert by the neck and pulled him back to his seat when it looked like Granny was about to step to him. But instead she walked to the desk as she added, “Everyone thought that it was James Wonder, the owner of the Wonder farms at the time, after giving Everett one of the farmlands.”

Granny Gumbo went back to her seat with an old newspaper. “There’s a reason why they lost that part of farmland.” she said as she sat down. Then Granny Gumbo cleared her throat before she continued, “James Wonder, the owner at the time, was struggling with that farmland. He wanted to plant crops and trees for the business but nothing was growing. That’s when Everett Evergreen came into the picture and offered a deal with him.”

The Bad Guys got interested in this. “What was the deal?” they asked, their eyes wide.

“The deal was if James gives Everett that part of land, Everett would give money to him after selling products that he would be using.” Granny Gumbo said, looking at them. “Everett didn’t tell James what it was and James didn’t mind until two years after the deal. That’s when Abby, his youngest child, went missing around Easter time. That’s when the truth came out.”

Then Granny Gumbo gave Moe the newspapers and The Bad Guys looked at it.

A Two Year Agreement Broken

James Wonder and the rest of the Wonder Family found out what product that Everett Evergreen was using after finding Abby Wonder, the youngest of the Wonder Family, in a gas room with a young fox.

The gas room was on the grounds of a dangerous campsite that used to be one of the old Wonder farms before Evergreen took over it.

It turns out that it was similar to what happened in World War 2, a dangerous camp just for predators.

After finding out and getting the survivors' help, James shut it down and the camps were destroyed.

No one knows where Everett Evergreen is.

The Bad Guys looked at Granny Gumbo, who looked lost in a bad memory for a moment. “It was the biggest and scariest thing in history.” Granny Gumbo said when she came back to the present. “Thankfully she survived the horrors of that place with the other survivors.”

“Yeah…” Herbert said, nodding slowly.

The Bad Guys were processing what they learned.

Then their attention went to Granny Gumbo when she hummed. “Are there any more questions? Or are we done?” she asked, looking at them.

The gang looked at each other before Lou raised his fin. “I have one question.”

“Go ahead.” the gator said, nodding to him.

“Is the Nevergreens Camps the reason that Diane has those scar burn marks?” the shark asked, rubbing his lower back a reference. “The ones on her lower back.”

Granny Gumbo was quiet before nodding. “Yes… She got the burn numbers from there… All of the predators that were there got different burn numbers.”

Then the gator sighed and got up from her seat as The gang also got up from their seats.

As Granny Gumbo got her shotgun, she looked at the five. “Oh, thank you five for helping Diane.” she said, smiling a bit as she walked out the room.

The Bad Guys were surprised.

“How did you know?” Pepe asked, his eyes wide as he and the gang followed her.

Granny Gumbo turned around to look at the five before leaving. “I figured that you five were the ones who helped her. Since she doesn’t let a lot of people help her and by the looks of it, she trusts you five.” Granny said, smiling softly.

The Bad Guys looked at each other, smiling a bit with the same thought going through their heads, ‘Diane trusts us.’

The five started a huddle, talking about something before Granny Gumbo left.

The alligator looked at them with a confused look.

The Bad Guys finished talking and broke the huddle, looking at the alligator.

“We trust you and we want to help.” Moe said as the gang nodded. “With investigating the camps.”

Granny Gumbo nodded and hummed, “That’s very brave of the five of you. But I suggest not going in head first of this investigation.”

“Then what should we do first?” Stefaine asked.

“I suggest that you five see Abby Wonder.” Granny said, opening the door to the garage. “Also, don’t overwork yourselves with this and your other lifes. Your bodies will thank you.”

Then Granny Gumbo left, leaving The Bad Guys by themselves, packed boxes, and their thoughts.

“Hey, Webs.” Moe said, getting the gang’s attention. “Get an appointment with Abby Wonder, please. We got to know what happened.”

The gang nodded and the five left the place, turning off the lights and locking up the place before leaving.

[fullmoonfireball]

🖋 Penny Gwen ?

Penny's relationship to Herbert is basically that he's her fucked up babysitter. not intentionally, of course- Rookie would never ask him to babysit Pen, and Herbert would be quite insulted if he did, but that's how things have turned out. they are unarguably nemeses, but there's still a strange sense of fondness between them. no one's sure why, exactly, Herbert's so fond of her and no one else, but her species combined with her age (she was only 7 when they first met) seems to be most likely. a slight resemblance to an old friend might contribute too, but also that guy still owes him $5.

but y'know, there's only so far that kind of fond rivalry can be pushed.

enter Operation: Blackout.

while I haven't figured out all the details of how it goes in Pennyverse, those aren't the focus here. obviously, it was a bad time for her (though maybe not quite as bleak as some takes), but it's the aftermath that's most relevant here:

Herbert's first plot after Blackout (not Op: Hotsauce in this context)... didn't exactly go according to plan. not in that he didn't succeed, that's standard, at this point, but in how he was thwarted. the usual routine (trap, monologue, escape, tussle, and defeat) was completely pushed aside. Penny immediately broke out of his trap of the week and took him down without waiting a moment for any explanations. which... yeah, he only just realized that he'd gone a bit too far with that last scheme thanks to that reaction. but basically that's why (in Pennyverse, at least) Operation: Hot Sauce was such a step back from Blackout- he wanted to build his friendly nemesis relationship back up with Penny, because good god, if he HAS to have his plans thwarted by an 11-year-old at every turn, they two of them might as well have a little fun with it.

[randomvarious]

Ted Taylor - "Something Strange Is Going on in My House" Super Blues Legends, Volume 1 Song released in 1970. Compilation released in 1998. Soul-Blues

Plays: 81.7K on Spotify // 13.4K on YouTube

Ted Taylor was a terrific, label-hopping soul-blues vocalist who unjustifiably flew under the radar throughout most of his three decades-plus career. He possessed such a powerful and distinctly high-pitched voice that had this charmingly slick southern pastor's drawl to it, even with a natural whistle appended to the ends of certain words. And I really hate to make this comparison, but it's unfortunately true: at a certain point in his career, he sort of sounded like if Herbert from Family Guy—yeah, the old pedophile—could sing. Taylor tragically died in a car accident in 1987 at 53 years old, but I wonder if the guy who voices Herbert, Mike Henry, drew any inspiration from Taylor's music, because there appears to be an irrefutable similarity there between the voices—and only the voices—of the character and singer.

Anyhoo, Taylor's music career began after moving from his home of Okmulgee, Oklahoma to Los Angeles in 1952. After joining a couple gospel groups and one of them turning towards secular R&B and doo wop, he decided to go solo, and would bounce around a whole bunch of different labels throughout the rest of his career, from Laurie, to Okeh, to Atco, to Epic, and to MCA, to name some of the most popular ones.

But where he wound up finding the most stability was on the Shreveport, Louisiana-based Jewel Records' subsidiary Ronn, for whom he recorded a steady stream of 7-inches from '67 to '74, and then returned in '77 and '81 for a couple more.

Taylor managed to chart a bunch of his singles onto both the Billboard Hot 100 and R&B charts, but neither showings were particularly impressive. His biggest commercial successes were "Push Push," which he released in 1960 as Austin Taylor on Laurie (#90, Hot 100) and "Stay Away From My Baby," released in 1965 on Okeh (#99, Hot 100; #14, R&B).

But his second-most commercially successful single on the R&B chart was the great "Something Strange Is Going on in My House," a fun and playful sub-3-minute, lightly funky soul-blues tune sung from the perspective of Taylor that was released in 1970 on Ronn and managed to hit #26. In 1998, Jewel included it on their Super Blues Legends, Volume 1 compilation, which is where I first came across it.

On this song, Taylor recounts a couple highly curious situations that lead him to suspect that his wife or girlfriend is cheating on him. But the song actually has a lighthearted nature to it, with his full backing band supplying some neat tricks to accompany his narration. For example, the bass, and then the piano, emulate a creeping tiptoe on the chorus to represent the unwelcome person that’s likely in Taylor’s house. And in the second verse, he mentions a weird scratching noise coming from the room next to him, and as he does this, the funky guitar, for an ever so subtle split-second, speeds up, which symbolizes that scratching noise. Cool!

In the end, Taylor resolves two things: one, he's going to lay out a trap to catch his lady and her side-piece together, and two, he's not going to end his relationship, but he's going to find his own side-piece in order to get even. Spicy!

Fun and overlooked early 70s single from this pretty underrated soul-blues singer who possessed such a unique and enjoyably high-pitched voice.