#google green

Boys12, except G4's

Or whatever

Posting for personal reference but uhhh part 1 of Pokemon team headcanons lololol♥️

Nerdy info under the CUT:

📌 Google Red is a research extension, Google Yellow is an organizer/reminder extension, and Google Green is an in-general assistant.

📌 Google Red is usually seen as the 'angry' version of Google, but is actually the Google extension who shows more emotions rather than just anger.

Red usually gets frustrated whenever he is unable to make time or schedule his amount of time for research.

He prefers to be prepared with research and notes already taken down before he engages in anything else. Such as researching victims for Bim's show (referencing to my last ego headcanon post)

📌 Google Green usually assists Wilford and Bim in the studio with their interviews and gameshows.

📌 Half of the time, the extensions call Google "Primary" or "Primary Source".

📌 The youngest egos are Yandere, Heist Mark, and Eric.

Yandere is in her early 20s

Heist is in his mid 20s

And Eric is in his late 20s to early 30s

📌 Yandere uses the file of a nail cutter as a small, quick weapon when needed.

📌 Stan the Water Man ALWAYS waters the garden.

Keeps both the Egos and the plants hydrated at all times.

📌 Wilford breaks the fourth wall unknowingly.

Dark can too, he just doesn't care.

📌 Bing does 'your mom' jokes

This is the only one I actually like. Some old quotes from an old work.

Google Red = Adam

Google Green = Elijah

Egotober - Day 24

Prompt: Fire / "You won't like the truth."

---

They sat in a loose group at his feet, hanging on to every word as the most captivating story yet drifted through the warm, book-smelling air, floating like they didn’t hold the weight of the grotesque. 

“The subject stole the Author’s machete, thoroughly ruining the story he’d written. He swung it wildly in the Author’s direction, forcing him to back up, to shout. Then he turned and ran into the woods. The Author searched and searched, picking up his trail like a bloodhound with a scent, but he never did find his subject again.” The Host sat back in his wooden chair, its rickety legs creaking under his weight, and crossed his arms, dipping his chin to his chest. Sitting on the floor next to him was Dr. Iplier, leaning his head against the Host’s leg. He wore a thick, cable-knit sweater, and was clearly half-asleep. Still, he said, “I remember. It took you two weeks to get over that.”

From the back of the group, Google Red piped up, “I’m detecting a falsehood.”

“The Author rarely lost his subjects.” Green added, and Blue supplemented with, “And you’re arrogant enough to refuse to tell us such stories.”

“What’s the real story?” Bing asked, leaning forward and draping his arms over his folded legs. Bim nodded in assent. “You can’t hold out on us, bro.”

Dr. Iplier sat up a little straighter, suddenly looking more awake. He glanced at the Host; they both knew the Author had caught his subject. He’d then set the subject on fire and left him in the middle of the forest to burn.

The group waited, but the Host only shrugged. “You wouldn’t like the truth.”