#goregalorr

1. what is the biggest headcanon deviation from the canon material that you have incorporated into the way you write your muse ? why did you come up with it ?

seeing as mr. robot canon Good i don’t really have any big headcanon deviations, unless you want to count darlene and elliot being adopted by each others bio parents. 

5. what is an aspect of your muse’s canon material or canon existence that you never had the opportunity to explore but really want to ?

darlene is a lot of fun because mr. robot takes place over the course of less than a year, and we really don’t know what any of the characters were up to prior to the events of the series. so really, there’s a lifetime of events to explore with darlene, and that’s so cool to me!! it’s free real estate!!

7. for movie or tv muses, what is your muse’s favorite scene ? why ? can you show a screenshot ?

1. what is the biggest headcanon deviation from the canon material that you have incorporated into the way you write your muse ? why did you come up with it ?

i don’t have a single Big headcanon deviation but i have a few smaller headcanon deviations?? such as r’s dyslexia--as the books progress, his reading abilities start to come back, but as far as i’m concerned, the fucker still can’t read. 

and not necessarily a headcanon deviation because it’s never explicitly stated, but r’s gender, sexuality, and ethnicity are all technically my own development. frankly, it just all made sense in my head, and that’s why i went with those decisions, lol.

3. what is something that was never addressed at all in the canon material that you have independently developed for your muse ?

pretty much all of r’s little chronic and mental illnesses. they’re described, but the names are never put to them. we get hallucinations, dissociation, and abnormal speech patterns, but the term “schizophrenia” is never used. part of that can probably be attributed to the fact that r is our narrator and it’s language he doesn’t use for whatever reason.

13. what canon character do you really wish your muse could interact more with ?

02.     bag   /   purse.

she’s never not seen without her purple backpack. it has three pockets--a large main pocket, a hidden pocket inside the main pocket, and a small pocket. the small pocket holds her wallet, a tube of chapstick ( eos brand, usually ), one or two lighters, an extra pack of cigarettes, and a pack of bubblegum. 

the main pocket holds a laptop, an extra charging cable or two for the laptop and for her cellphone, a small makeup bag with actual makeup in it, a second makeup bag for feminine hygiene products, and a lock picking kit. she also tends to have a bag of snacks at the bottom of her bag, generally candy of some sort, along with loose receipts and coupons that she’s forgotten to throw away.

the hidden pocket isn’t really hidden, but it can be missed if you don’t know to look for it as it’s sewn into the main part of the backpack. it’s where darlene keeps things that need to be...well, hidden. loose baggies of weed and cocaine, fake work badges, fake IDs, an extra burner phone for emergencies. things that people don’t need to know are there.

and because she’s kind of that bitch, she does have a reusable straw kit hooked to her zipper.

16.     cd collection.

she had a pretty expansive cd collection in middle school and high school. elliot taught her how to pirate music and burn it to cds. she had a good range of albums, from the boy bands and top 40 pop she listened to in middle school to the edgy punk rock and emo she indulged in in her later years. she left that cd collection behind when she moved out, though. who’s to say where they all ended up. darlene suspects magda threw everything in her room away.

18.     “secret” hiding spot.

        A smirk touches Darlene’s lips. “Ain’t that just the nature of this city??” She fishes around in her jacket pocket for a pack of cigarettes, and her brows knit together in thought. “Sometimes, I think of New York as it’s own living entity. Just this,” she sticks a cigarette between her teeth and gestures vaguely before moving to light it, ‘living, breathing, ever changing thing. I think all big cities are like that. Not that I would personally know. I haven’t been many places.” 

She has more to say, she has much more to say. She wonders what New York City would be like if it were a physical, tangible person. She imagines it would be wildly moody and difficult to keep up with. She ceases her tangent though, peers at the side of Josh’s face and lets her cigarette burn idly. Her expression shifts to concern now, and she reaches over to grab Josh’s hand, gives it a squeeze.

Darlene’s voice is quieter now. “But for real. You okay??” She shifts on her feet, loosens her grip on Josh’s hand. “My brother says shit like that sometimes and it usually means he’s not okay.”

            She laughs, loud and shrill, claps her hands together and falls a few steps behind Josh. “God, you’re such a bitch.” Rather, easily set off, and therefore easy for Darlene to pick on. She’s at Josh’s side again though, both arms wrapped around one of his. “You’re gonna let some cheap jump scares get the best of you??” A quiet sigh. She taps his arm with a hand. “What would you do without me?? Wouldn’t even make it home from the fucking theater.” Wouldn’t have someone sneaking up and digging their nails into his shoulders in an alleyway behind a movie theater.

         ❝     y’know, he- he thought he was god, or something.     ❞            he always had that air about him. maybe he’d had these massive threads tossed out into the future, playing three-dimensional chess, knowing exactly what you would say or do or think and twisting your arm accordingly; but somehow, you doubt he was really that intelligent. if you could trick him so easily, you must have simply played into his hands than been entirely putty in them.          ❝     he thought he had this fuckin’... divine duty, to cleanse the world like he was the be-all end-all of what was right or wrong.      ❞            

𝙔𝙊𝙐     𝘼𝙇𝙈𝙊𝙎𝙏     𝙎𝘾𝙊𝙁𝙁     𝘼𝙏     𝙏𝙃𝙀     𝙏𝙃𝙊𝙐𝙂𝙃𝙏     -          if it didn’t make you want to throw up, maybe you would have. your eyes shut, and you think; you centre yourself, crushing down the turbulence in the pit of your stomach, take deep breaths that barely do anything to untie the knots that dance like static behind your eyelids.          ❝     and- and he did this thing,     ❞             this time, you do laugh, bitter and hollow as you finish the last careful word on stolen stationary. josh’s shadow over your shoulder almost feels smaller than his; you aren’t afraid of the weight of his presence behind you, like you thought you would be. it’s strange, almost weightless- the paper is folded carefully, just like you know clara would, like you’ve seen her do before.          ❝     he’d get all philosophical about it, like if we didn’t do it, somebody else would, and who knows what kinda compass they’d have? you gotta trust me, ronnie.     ❞             your tone twists to mock his intangible accent; the letter is done, slid into its envelope, but you don’t turn, you don’t move an inch. 

𝙄𝙏’𝙎     𝙉𝙊𝙏𝙃𝙄𝙉𝙂     𝙔𝙊𝙐     𝙃𝘼𝙑𝙀𝙉’𝙏     𝙎𝙏𝙀𝙒𝙀𝘿     𝙄𝙉     𝘽𝙀𝙁𝙊𝙍𝙀     .          his perspective, all that self-importance, that god complex that made him see himself above everyone else. but in killing him, you do think you’d learned something- he was right. in a way, at least; there’s no way to survive in this world without cutting out the undesirables. what makes you different is that you haven’t deluded yourself into believing it’s for a higher purpose- you’re not cleansing the world, you’re just clearing out your own path. there’s nothing noble about you, and that’s a refreshing statement, isn’t it?          ❝     and it’s bullshit, it’s all crap, none of it means anything. he was delusional. he was delusional if he really thought he was doing it for any other reason than, like, wanting to.      ❞            

𝙀𝙑𝙀𝙍𝙔𝙊𝙉𝙀     𝙒𝙃𝙊     𝙒𝘼𝙎     𝙎𝙐𝙋𝙋𝙊𝙎𝙀𝘿     𝙏𝙊     𝙃𝙀𝙇𝙋     𝙔𝙊𝙐     𝙋𝘼𝙑𝙀     𝙏𝙃𝙀     𝙒𝘼𝙔     𝙇𝙀𝙁𝙏     𝙔𝙊𝙐     𝙄𝙉     𝙏𝙃𝙀     𝙈𝙐𝘿     .          you’re exhausted. they’d all either turned their backs on you, or dug their blade into yours. he was right, in that the world is full of heathers, full of queen bees needing to be cut down, full of filth that won’t kneel until they’re dead. he was right that force was necessary to push your way past each of them. he was right that death was the only permanent way to win. but you’re enlightened, you think, because you’re not caught up in some perfectionist daydream of what it all means, this big picture, this false martyrdome he was so desperate to cling to, as if he was the second-fucking-coming sent to drown out the non-believers even as his fingerprints burned their branding into you. he would’ve explained it away as angels being too divine for humans to handle touching. 

         ❝     i know better. it’s- so much easier when you just let go of all of that, right? like, there’s no good or bad, it’s just... karma, i guess,     ❞             your tone is light, casual, raspy at the edges from how harsh you’ve become. you haven’t done your makeup in days- because why bother? there is no use for beauty right now, not here; especially not in front of josh. what are you trying to hide from him? he already knows about angelica, how easy it was to truly stage a hanging this time, not like your own loosely wound bedsheets. he’s watched you copy clara’s double-storey a and her long-looped y.          ❝     the people you cared about most were the ones that fucked you over the worst.     ❞             

𝙔𝙊𝙐     𝙈𝘼𝙆𝙀     𝙀𝙔𝙀     𝘾𝙊𝙉𝙏𝘼𝘾𝙏     𝙒𝙄𝙏𝙃     𝙃𝙄𝙈     ,          𝙉𝙊𝙒     .          you can feel bile in your throat, but you’re used to that burn- it’s been getting less and less potent with time, dissolving in the soft flesh of your esophagus being slowly scarred over with your chainsmoking and heavy drinking.          ❝     and that’s why it hurt, right? cause they were the people you were supposed to lean on. i get it. so why are we not allowed to get revenge? why do we have to be the bigger people?     ❞             you stand now, taking your spot next to him, casual with a careful effort to look as such- if he looks close enough at you, he’d be able to tell your shoulders are shaking. you’re tense, every muscle tightened to hold you in your perfect form when behind your eyes there’s so clearly almost nothing of coherent substance back there- a tangle of wires, jumping back and forth, twisted and pulling, disconnected and sparking with instability where once there was a quiet genius. 

         ❝     i have a note to deliver. do you want to come with me?     ❞            

@goregalorr​  bro i’m so sorry i-