#80sPOLAROID: HIGHLY SELECTIVE + MUTUALS ONLY + VERY SPORADIC ACTIVITY ... MULTI-MUSE / WRITING BLOG, TENDED TO BY WAXWORKS.
EXPLORING THEMES SUCH AS: ... things that keep you awake at night, the flashy colors of the 80s, the mundane every day life, keeping in contact through the years even after long stretches of slience & the power of friendship (along with this gun that you found)
let’s be real the pressure to use AI as an adult is exactly what they said the pressure the do drugs as a teenager would be like but the people that told us that caved immediately for the AI and definitely did not just say no
and there his answer is, whether the salesman wants to admit to it or not. someone without anything to hide wouldn't react like that — they wouldn't freeze up like a deer in headlights, wouldn't move in that almost painfully panicked way. the salesman might think he is being subtle, but in reality, it's anything but.
to his credit, if cooper were someone else, this little denial act might work. after all, everything has clearly been working fine for him out here for years, but ... the bounty hunter knows how to read people. he's old and he's tired, and even before all of that, he knew how to tell when someone was keeping something from him. it was needed in his old career and it still comes in handy nowadays when hunting down bounties.
the salesman says that he's a beta, and the ghoul can't help the snort of amusement. if the other ghoul is a beta, then the bounty hunter is the goddamn president : in other words, there is no truth to it.
it's almost amusing, actually, watching the other ghoul clearly try to figure out what had made him ask in the first place. a man's got to get his kicks somewhere, after all, and while cooper could make this easy on him, he doesn't particularly want to. it's more fun to poke him, to watch him squirm beneath his gaze.
“ just a theory. ” hand slides into his pocket, scarred fingers running along the vial inside. “ y'see, i've been around a long time, salesman. ” the ghoul turns his attention back onto the road ahead. “ i know the signs. ”
without hesitation and without waiting on his companion, he resumes his trek down the old, dusty highway, but as he does, he calls out : “ if you're a beta, i reckon — ”
the cowboy holds his hand up above his head, and clutched between his fingers is that little vial.
inky eyes squint at the snort, yet another wave of nausea washing over him as he listens and watches the other ghoul continue his trek down once what could be considered a highway. for a moment, the salesman reassures himself: ' he's just fucking with me --- he likes doing that, there's no way he could have figured it out. ' and the nausea is replaced with simple annoyance.
then annoyance is replaced with confusion, watching the bounty hunter reach into his pocket and holds something up in the air --- something glassy that glints bright in the sun. again, eyes have to squint before the mind registers what is it. confusion is then knocked aside by sheer panic, one hand shooting to feel the inner, personally sewn, pocket where his medication was typically stored ... only to come back empty.
" you went through my coat?! " the empty hand now grips the ruined guard rail of the highway as he leans forward with teeth gritted --- indignant, much like a wet cat. probably to look for some forgotten chems, that's the only real thing the cowboy seems to care about.
at first, worn - out loafers swiftly shift side to side --- mind trying to figure out the fastest route to get to the cowboy ... that route eventually vaulting over the guardrail to jump down onto level ground, then rounding around to where the other stood (with that aggravating smug FACE!) with large steps, trench coat billowing with the motion. " god damn it- give that back! "
closing in, radiation burnt hands try to snatch the vial back --- only to be kept just out of reach. the salesman grits his teeth again visibly, looking from the vial to glare at the cowboy straight in the eyes: “ really? ”
he is not going to hop to try and grab it, he's a grown ass man.
thoughtfully does hans hum, though not truly considering king magus's words for, aye, cynics cats are and cynics hans knows cats to be, whilst dragging against the flagstone a frilled ribbon that three of the five cats of fiendlord's keep chase after. one of the cats, the once runt now big and fat, is snow white, while the other, smaller than the first, is black; the final cat, the smallest of all three, is orange. the orange cat catches the ribbon in between his little canine teeth. "they're cute cynics though." hans tugs at the ribbon, and harder down onto the fabric does the orange cat bite in a war of attrition that the feline will most certainly win — hans'll become bored before the cat, after all, as bullheaded cats are as cynical.
but from the felines and to the fiendlord does hans's attention flit to, and with a smile sweet and sportive, he says, "like you, aye?"
ALFADOR'S KITTENS were hardly cynics in all honesty, more so haughty and pampered: lazy and more prone to chasing frilled string than to ever look at a mouse ... not nearly as wise nor mysterious as their sire, who seems able to see through walls & catch the smallest of demons in the cracks of floors. yet, magus would be lying if he said there wasn't a sense of comfort in having a piece of his childhood cat be passed along onto new kittens, kept near and alive if the original were to pass. the fact hans finds them terribly entertaining is simply a bonus.
a crack of a smile coming upon his expression as the orange cat catches the dancing ribbon that the blonde princeling wielded (the littlest ones will always prove to be the one that tries the hardest, always) ... then as quickly as it cracked his expression is repaired, ruby red eyes guided away from the ribbon and upon hans. ' like you, aye? '
" i seem recall the color of your skin draining when we first met, now you compare me to the cats. " proving han's comment to be true with his reply, magus does. though perhaps magus is much like a cat, in more ways than he'd like to admit. a creature of solitude who can be won over with enough trial and effort.
with a huff, the king of demons changes the subject so the air feels a smidge less saccharine. " are you ever to name these beasts, or will they remain with the titles of colors forever? "
Hey guys. I really hate to do this. I really do. But the lease on my family's home has ended, and every place we've looked at going to has ghosted us or turned us down. And our car got repossessed this morning/last night, so I currently have no home and no way to get to my job to feed myself, my 64 year old dad, and my two autistic brothers.
I'm so sorry to ask, but my PayPal is here if you can spare anything. It'll help us pay for hotel costs, car rental, and food and other necessities. I barely have time to draw anymore but I can if you want something for your trouble. If you can't (I get it we live in an economic hellscape), passing this along is plenty help. Thanks
you all followed me thus consented to autism so vault rec rep portrayal notes? you're getting them.
- he was indeed (a) top salesman in the company, specifically in the eastern branch (and somewhat in the southern branch, he was brought to conferences to teach new recruits sales techniques and such.) --- despite this as we all can absolutely guess, he was not extremely high up on the latter otherwise. he was a pencil pusher, overachiever and quite frankly his name was on nobody's mind. thus truly, he was not on the list (quite the shock to him)
- he started in the company when he was freshly 20-21, draft dodged the war WITH help from vault-tec actually (they shuffled paperwork around to make sure he didn't get drafted as they needed salesmen to go door to door in peak stress times, and he happened to have a knack for it off the bat. what started as a first time job to figure out what he wanted to do in life turned into a career) though he was unaware Vault-Tec played a hand in it. Assumed he simply never got his name called to go (and didn't mind, he thought he was doing his part by staying home)
- extremely competitive when it comes to ranking systems, again another reason why he flourished in a salesman position. unfortunately this competitive nature never steered him for a higher position, he was happy with door to door work & thought sitting around all day would be boring.
- cat guy! loves cats, perfect animal for him pre-bombs because they're more independent but still showed affection to him after work. He had an elderly calico before the bombs and he loved her :-( still loves cats, but feels incapable of caring for them
- put so much of himself into the job he neglected his social life 💀 at the time he didn't really notice though. After all he had so many work friends (not really his friends) and attended so many company parties he didn't feel a need to go out and socialize outside of work, so pre-bombs his social life was literally his work contacts, his mom (she passed away before the bombs thankfully) and his cat.
- generally though very friendly guy! very very very chatty, though he had a hard time turning off of work mode and would be considered by many to be 'uppity' and kinda rude at times (the OCD mannerisms showing) --- was quick to report anything out of line, and wasn't scared to show a backbone when it came to how things should be done.
- again though, had (still does, honestly) have a good heart and genuinely put so much effort into his job because he was also very stressed about the possibility of bombs dropping ... Thought he was genuinely securing people into safe places, even if he had to use persuasive marketing at times. post-bombs and finding out what Vault-Tec was really doing is ... Extremely, extremely, extremely unsettling for him. To the point he's kinda still processing it even 200 years later (there's a lot of guilt, a lot of blaming himself and hatred for himself for preaching 'being prepared for the future!' when in fact he was prepared for nothing and led people into that same nothing, often wonders if him becoming a ghoul is punishment for the blood that's on his hands)
- less than average with guns, FAR above average with knives. he's a knife guy, collected them before the bombs and certainly holds onto them in the wasteland. another reason he's mad about never getting those damn steak knives.
- extremely lonely but has resigned himself to a miserable life in the wasteland. doesn't like spending time with even other ghouls because they're either too aggressive/doomer for him OR they're too lackadaisical/cheery in trying to find the positive in things (the former makes him more depressed and the latter reminds him too much of his pre-war self / he's envious they can walk with stride still while he's ... himself) --- he's basically waiting to become feral but is also extremely petrified at the idea and any time he thinks he feels 'close' he's freaking the fuck out before calmimg down, it's a battle he wages everyday in his head. (Genetically he's actually very low risk at becoming feral, but he has no idea of that obviously)
- secretly hoping things will get better ('local man looses last bit of hope he didn't know he had' but it's once every month)
-closeted bisexual with a preference for women but men do got him fighting demons (bisexuality)
if i had a nickel for every horror game protag that was extremely niche in a roleplay setting i'd have two nickels ................................. play the island of doctor morose.
nickname(s): waxworks: i also go by aspen and wellermen.
zodiac: aquarius! (pieces moon + metal snake)
last movie i saw: iron lung!! absolutely loved it, honestly top five movies of all time for me.
last thing i googled: (city) weather .
favorite musician: very very very fond of owl city / adam young. other favorites include rebecca sugar & orville peck.
song stuck in my head: ice water (rebecca sugar)
other blogs: i have a personal blog that i give to closer mutuals .
do i get asks: hahaha, no. not really, but thats fine i think if i got asks constantly i'd get scared and flee.
following: my followers :-)
amount of sleep: generally about 7-8, maybe 6-5 on a bad night. preferably 10 hours though.
lucky number: 26.
what i’m wearing: white bass pro shop shirt + boxers.
dream job: 2D animator ... alas i am not built for the industry / such a cut throat environment. second choice would be mortician but again: i'm not built for on - call type jobs .... THIRD CHOICE IS ARCHIVIST!!! (mainly of art or video game history)
dream trip: would kill to visit new england or scotland actually.
play any instruments: i can play a bit of the thumb piano and currently learning how to make funny little songs on KORG-M01D on the 3ds!
languages: i was homeschooled and thus was not made to learn a second language unfortunately, a mega L (thinking about taking up either french or spanish, the latter for convenience reasons)
favorite songs: VIDEO KILLED THE RADIO STAR (the buggles) / Ice Water (Rebecca Sugar) / Winners Never Quit (Owl City)
describe yourself as aesthetic things: pool room liminal spaces, oversized windbreaker jackets, anime protagonists on a bicycle, animal crossing new leaf screenshots with a funny/deep quote. muted blues with milky browns. bowling alley glow in the dark carpets. nintendo 3ds charms. being a ghost in the corner of a crowded room. the beach at night, a few pine trees on the edge - line of a beach. i genuinely don't really know.
listen i am not a big zelda fan (love the lore, don't like the games / gameplay. i'm just not a puzzle dungeon person) but i do have my own personal theory on the happy mask salesman & it doesn't properly align with the lore but i still use it and will explain my breakdown of it:
to get one thing out of the way: i DO think termina is real. i think it's an alternate reality of hyrule. it's not a one for one alternate reality, though. it's more like a distorted mirror reality.
this being the case: i think and write the mask salesman as termina's version of the triforce of wisdom. with majora being the power facet and then the fierce deity, of course, being the facet of courage.
again though, it is not one for one: he is not a reincarnation of zelda in the slightest. the triforce isn't the triforce in termina, it's another trio that is loosely akin to the triforce in this world. regardless, this i feel like explains as to why he seems so knowledgeable + in general has abilities that normal NPCs usually wouldn't have. this is also why he has a special song in majora's mask that he then teaches Link (Song of Healing), healing after all is associated with the triforce of wisdom along with 'untold mystic abilities' --- something that can also be looked at with the mask mechanics in majora's mask, where a lot of the masks spawn from helping spirits pass on & heal, or doing things the spirits of these masks felt they needed to do before passing on ... (not to mention disguises / being able to trick others is also associated with the triforce of wisdom, which is a thing a mask is for sure meant to do)
plus, there is no zelda and no ganondorf in these games, because again: the triforce isn't really a thing in the world of termina. but majora takes take ganon's place as the villain, and the salesman takes the place of 'not very seen often guide, and the main drive as to why [link] is on this quest' --- so there parallels make sense to ME
TL;DR. i believe him to be a rather powerful entity in termina. not exactly the most powerful, but he is a pillar. can be described as a minor god / fae whose powers heavily manifest via masks.
