((It looks like most of you have deactivated, but for those who are still around, Iâve moved to a multi-fandom multimuse blog over at @cave-of-the-owl-witchâ
I still play Gus, as well as nearly twenty others because I have no self-control lol. That said, I have to be a Responsible Adult⢠these days so Iâm not online very often.))
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The sound was unexpected, but thatâs not what startled Gus out of his thoughts that morning. No, what startled him was that the voice sounded eerily like his own. He turned around slowly to find what appeared to be an animatronic version of⌠himself? It was absolutely uncanny.
It appeared to be well put together, at least at a cursory glance, and looked very much like a real Gremlin; in fact, if the thing hadnât giggled, he probably would have flown right past it. The only difference he saw was that it somehow looked even more toon-like than he did, with its large, yellow eyes that were much bigger and much brighter than his own dark, brown ones.
But where had it come from? Oswald hadnât said anything about building more animatronics, let alone one that looked like him, and it seemed too⌠cute⌠to be one of the Mad Doctorâs. He hadnât heard about any plans to revive the property, either- not since Dark Horse with their comics and figurines a few years back- so he doubted it was more scrapped merchandise. He could speculate on it all day, but the direct approach was more likely to get results.
âErm⌠hello?â he ventured, unsure of how aware this mechanical double was.
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DID YOU KNOW THERE ARE FEMALE AND BABY GREMLINS?!?
Female Gremlins are called Fifinellas. Baby Gremlins are called Widgets.
In Wasteland:
Obviously about the same as the Gremlins, but the Widgets would likely have to stay in Gremlin Village.
Sadly, since the book states out of every nest of twelve widgets only one is female, itâsâŚ.quit possible something may have happened to them during the Blot Wars, explaining their absence.
Okay, so as a few of you know by now, @livingoncaffeineanddreamsâ is currently going through the gameâs files to look for secrets. Not exactly a secret, but hereâs a few clips of Jamface humming.
BĚľ R AÍ CÍ E ̨ ÍĄ ĚY O ÍU R S͢ ̢EÍ LÍ V̢ ĚĄE SÍĄ Ň
hey mr. mustachio,or should i say "mr. gustachio" *smirks*
He had a sneaking suspicion that he was being made fun of, but oh, that pun! Gus bit his lip to stop himself from laughing, thankful that said moustache hid the smirk that had formed on his own face. He cleared his throat and said as evenly as he could muster,Â
âYes, fine, I suppose Iâll give you that one.â
Send me a word and my muse will reveal a memory that has to do with it.
âLove... Love is a strange thing, you know; there one minute and gone the next, and so all-encompassing that sometimes you donât know itâs there until it isnât any longer. The love of thousands... the love of family... the love of your life...â Gus released a long and heavy sigh, his age suddenly very apparent on his face. âIâm sorry to tell you, but all of my experiences with love are bittersweet at best.â
âWhen I close my eyes and listen to the rustling of the leaves, I can almost pretend that things are the way they used to be.â
Somewhere deep in the heart of Ventureland, a Gremlin pair was perched high in the mossy branches of a tree. They were far from the sounds of pirates drinking and carrying on, and the only sounds were the occasional call of a bird or gust of wind. Gus leaned his head back against the sturdy trunk, closing his eyes and listening closely. She was right; the sounds of kapoks and ferns were little different from the oaks and blackberry bushes of yore.
âItâs times like these that make me think that things here arenât so bad,â he replied. âThat perhaps we could have a life here, instead of pining away over what could have been.â
He felt her shift against his chest as she peered up at him. Cracking one eye open, he saw she was smirking.
He let out a low chuckle. âAnd just what is that look for?â
âOh, nothing,â she replied coyly. âItâs just that your sentimental side is showing.â
âYes, well... After keeping everything and everyone together for so long, Iâve earned it, havenât I?â
This time, Fifinella laughed. âMany times over,â she said, leaning up to give him a quick peck on the lips. He smiled and gave her shoulder an affectionate squeeze in return.
The two of them sat there together as the jungle grew dark around them, each content and comfortable in the otherâs silence. It was going to be an early day tomorrow, but neither of them wanted to leave just yet.
â...That was the last time she and I got to be together. A few days later came the Thinner Disaster, and then the Blot Wars. The last time I saw her, she and a dozen others were flying off into a darkened sky...â
He trailed off, his throat feeling tight, and turned away.
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((So I had just finished writing my last response when, like an idiot, I accidentally closed out of the window. So Iâve gone ahead and rewritten everything (and written it better, in my opinion) and Iâll be posting it momentarily. Since I got another prompt while that was happening that coincides with what Iâve already written, Iâm gonna go ahead and kill two birds with one stone.))
Send me a word and my muse will reveal a memory that has to do with it.
âAh, postage stamps; completely unheard of by us Gremlins until 1943, but theyâve become something of a delicacy ever since. I wish I could remember which of us it was that first decided to eat them⌠I think it was two of the younger ones, just barely old enough to not be considered Widgets any longer. They came running in one day with armfuls of stamps, raving about how theyâd seen the Humans licking them and how they were absolutely scrumdiddlyumptious,â Gus recalled with a fond smile. âThis was back before weâd revealed ourselves, when we still thought the RAF was our enemy, and so weâd been spying on them. It wasnât until later that we found out what stamps were really for, and none of us cared by that point.â
Send me a word and my muse will reveal a memory that has to do with it.
âMuffins, you say? âŚYes, I suppose I have a story about muffins; one of the good things Humans are responsible for. Let me see⌠the first time I tried a muffin was during the War. It was after we had helped Pilot Gus fly again, but before the Axis Powers had fallen, and we were enjoying some precious down timeâŚâ
âSo, er⌠do you fellows ever eat real food?â
Gus glanced indignantly up at the pilot as he munched on a postage stamp; they may have agreed to help these Humans, but sometimes their manners still left a bit to be desired.
âWhat I mean is, Iâve only ever seen you eating those stamps. Thatâs not exactly what they were meant for, you know.â
The chief popped the last bit of his snack into his mouth and stared his counterpart down as he chewed and swallowed it, and only then did he respond.Â
âWell, we Gremlins like them well enough, thank you,â he said curtly. ââŚBut no, they arenât all we eat. Most of us are fond of fruits, honey, grains, and even some meat now and then when we can get it.â
Pilot Gus seemed to find this odd. âBut then why bother with the stamps at all?â
âItâs the glue,â he replied, leaning back in his seat and lighting his pipe. âIt has a sweetness to it that tickles our tongues just right, you see.â
This apparently didnât make things any clearer, if the look on the manâs face was any indicator. âIâve licked many a postage stamp in my day, but I never thought any of them were particularly sweet. That is, I suppose they have some flavour to them, but I would never dream of eating one.â
Gus puffed twice, mulling over this new information. The pilotâs nose twitched a little as the strange, herbal smoke curled towards him.
âI think, perhaps, that our Gremlin tongues must be able to taste things that your Human ones canât. Otherwise you would know what you were missing out on.â
Pilot Gus frowned slightly, looking as if he was about to say something, but then thought better of it. Instead, he pulled a rumpled paper bag from his duffel and unwrapped it to reveal a fluffy⌠thing with still more paper on the bottom. âWhat about this, then?â
The Gremlin blew a smoke ring and leaned in to get a better look. Whatever it was, it smelled lovely, and it seemed to be topped with chopped nuts. ââŚWhat is it?â
âA banana-nut muffin; a rare treat, what with the rationing and all. I smuggled the last one from the mess this morning,â the man said with a conspiratorial wink. He broke off a large chunk and held it out for Gus to take, which he did with utmost curiosity; it was almost spongy, but not in an unpleasant way. It sort of reminded him of a soft bread.
He gave it another sniff, easily making out walnut and⌠something unfamiliar⌠that must have been the banana. Without further ado, he gave it an experimental nibble.
It was sweet- much sweeter than postage stamps, but not the same kind of sweetness as honey- with a pleasant blend of fruitiness and the rich flavour of roasted nuts. He decided immediately that he liked it and eagerly took another bite.
The pilot let out a hardy chuckle. âI had a feeling you might like that better.â
Gus finished off the last little morsel of the muffin piece, once again staring the Human down as he returned to his pipe. âDelicious as that was, Iâm still going to eat postage stamps; now youâll just have to watch your muffin things, too.â
Despite the chiefâs serious expression, Pilot Gus could still tell he was being teased. He just laughed again, tucking in to what was left of his treat.
Now it was Gusâs turn to think. He had to admit, that made sense; he almost wanted to kick himself for not thinking of it.
âThat... would probably work, yes. Maybe flour, or some kind of thick, gooey liquid... like chocolate sauce!â He didnât want to admit it, but Oswaldâs attitude was infectious, and he found himself starting to get into the spirit of things. Chocolate sauce was the obvious solution, of course.
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Gus was hovering around Mean Street, checking up on the other Gremlins at work, when he saw something peculiar out by the Walt statue. It was very small, even compared to him, and it appeared to be⌠hopping? But it didnât look like one of the bunny childrenâŚ
He politely said goodbye to Gremlin Jamface and made his way down the bustling street. Now that he was closer, he was pretty sure that was a little girl; a small girl with yarn for hair and shoes that squeaked, but a girl nonetheless. He watched as she sat down with a huff and, seeing that she seemed to be alone, decided to ask her what was wrong.
âIs something troubling you, little miss?â he asked, landing gently on the ground in front of her.
The doll looked up to the source of the voice, her mission momentarily forgotten as she titled her head at the creature. He seemed so familiarâŚwhere has she seen him beforeâŚ.
ââŚHi Mr. Pernie! You look nice and different today!â She chirped with glee, not even remembering that the other asked her a question. âI like your outfit. Red is a pretty color on you! And your mustache is cute!â She was already assuming that changing skin color was just a Gremlin thing.
...Mr. Pernie? As in Copernicus, the astronomer stationed out here on Mean Street? How on earth could the child have mistaken him for the other? Last he had checked, Copernicus was two inches taller than him, bright orange, and clean shaven... Although, he supposed this meant that Copernicus was leaving his observatory and meeting new people now and again, which was probably a good thing.
When he realized heâd been giving her a strange look for longer than was acceptable, he coughed once into his fist to try and cover his embarrassment.
âErm... thank you, young one, but Iâm not Copernicus. IÂ am Gus, leader of the Gremlins here in Wasteland. Now, if I may, who are you, and what were you doing all by yourself in front of this statue?â
Gus simply shook his head, trying not to even give him the satisfaction of laughing.Â
âI did try to warn you. Can you still hear me? Youâre not seeing double, are you?â he asked, exaggerating the severity of the situation. âBut really, Oswald, itâs not too late to quit. The list said these things were impossible for a reason, you know.â
Oswald shook the stars out of his head. âThat one was just a fluke.â He snatched up the list again and scanned it. âAha! This oneâs easy! Impossible to look at your own back? Ha, not for me!â
The rabbit then detached his head from his body and held it behind him. âEasy peasy!â
He made a face, recoiling slightly at the sight; as many times as he saw Oswald take himself apart, it still weirded him out.
âTo be fair, I donât think whoever wrote the list took into account people with that particular⌠er⌠skill.â
Finally accepting that he couldnât talk him out of these shenanigans, he took it upon himself to supervise instead. He floated over to pick up the discarded list, pulling a pencil from his pocket and marking off âlook at your own backâ. For the first time, he actually started reading the list.
ââŚSo, how exactly do you plan to teach a goldfish to play the clarinet? Take a photo of an invisible object? Or⌠count to ten by threes? I actually know that riddle⌠maybe you can do a few more of these things.â
âBut if the object is invisible, weâll still need to prove itâs really there!â he objected. âEven if we include the ink bottle in the photograph, it could still be argued that the picture was faked... unless we only partially cover the object with invisible ink? But then I suppose it wouldnât technically be invisible, since you could still see part of it...â