morgs/morgan || 23 || any pronouns || multifandom || currently fixated on Re-Animator and Jazzpunk || I do reblog/post horror so be a bit weary! I'll eventually make an introduction post!
One of my headcanons for Jazzpunk would have to be that to others, Polyblanka appears as a clump of static due to him being an espionage agent.
Features such as his hair and overall silhouette aren't affected, and neither are the clothes he dons. HOWEVER! His face is entirely devoid of defining features, appearing as a shifting blur of black, white, and grey pixels, akin to a corrupted transmission.
Additionally, with his body being composed of static, he lacks the usual warmth or sensation that human flesh has. Standing near or making contact with him replicates the fuzzy, tingling sensation of a CRTV screen.
It should also be known that this extra layer of protection—his disguise—can be damaged. (Similarly in a way of cracking open a crab leg to expose the soft, tender flesh residing within.) Whether intentional or not, depending on how much damage he takes in a specific area, fractures will begin to form, splintering outward and weakening with each hit. Eventually, a piece of his static-exoskeleton may fizzle out, briefly revealing glimpses of his fleshy-yet-freshly-bruised form beneath.
And you know damn well that while spying on Polyblank, the Editor would demand that his operatives gather as many pictures exposing Polyblank's 'true' self as possible. Whether a bruised eye, a busted lip, or even the faintest hint of a dimple, he didn't care. He’s determined to piece together a collage in order to reconstruct Polyblank’s true face from the scattered fragments, no matter how incomplete they may be.
'Prince Rupert's drops are characterized internally by very high residual stresses, which give rise to counter-intuitive properties, such as the ability to withstand a blow from a hammer or a bullet on the bulbous end without breaking, while exhibiting explosive disintegration if the tail end is even slightly damaged.'
There’s just something about egotistical men in suits who see themselves as untouchable—practically divine—that drives me rabid. I want to tear open their chest cavity, an examine their innards, like a frog on the dissection table in my 7th-grade science class.
I want to study them, see what makes them tick, and most importantly, what lies beyond their veil of artificial grandeur.
Do you think Herbert avoids sleeping not only because his reagent eliminates the need for sleep, improving his overall efficiency, but also out of fear of the night terrors of Gruber's death that plague him?
He's in SO MUCH denial. Yes, he can accept that Gruber is, in fact, DEAD, but he's completely hooked on the idea that he could have changed the outcome.
oh no..i’m dying of starvation…it seems i need more re-animator headcanons to survive…
(love your blog btw, you’re absolutely fabulous)
Aw, thank you so much! For a movie I randomly decided to watch two years ago, I never would have thought it would have such a profound effect on my life!
As for Re-Animator headcanons, don’t worry about starving—I definitely went overboard with Herbert's headcanons alone! Later, I’ll try to post some about Dan separately, or mix them in with Meg's, or.... maybe more of Herbert's!
Herbert's birthday is September 9th. (Yup! He shares his birthday with Jeffrey; the same can apply to Dan and Meg.) More specifically, his birthday is September 9th, 1961.
Growing up in Switzerland, Herbert is fluent in both English and German. Additionally, he's trying to learn as many languages as possible.
Herbert was miniscule growing up. Even the smallest size of clothes would drape over his body, swallowing him whole. Whenever he wanted to look threatening or present himself as respectable, it was impossible. Suits would appear awkwardly bunched up, baby hairs sticking up in every direction due to static, and his glasses, which magnified his eyes, only drew more attention to his small stature.
Similar to Dan, Herbert's a gigantic Star Trek nerd. With Star Trek premiering a little while after his 5th birthday, it's one thing he considered a miracle, especially given his disdain for television and its mindless programming. While he doesn't let anyone know he enjoys the show, he's quick to correct any inaccuracies about Star Trek that come up in conversation.
While Herbert was responsible for starting the chemical fire that killed his parents at the age of seven, he never meant it to happen on purpose. He was just a bright-eyed, curious, naïve child who wanted to push the limits of current scientific discovery. Herbert yearned for his name and works to be published in prestigious scientific journals, not in some weekly kids' science magazines. While he did resent his parents, as they provided him with the bare minimum and were relatively disengaged, he couldn't deny the fond moments he shared as well, like bonding with his mother over Star Trek.
Herbert's aviator glasses weren't always his—they used to belong to Gruber. As evident in old photos, Hans would wear them while attending his studies at Zürich. However, he decided to retire soon after graduating in favor of contacts or a different frame entirely. When Herbert entered his life, Hans gifted the young boy his aviators, updating the lenses to match his prescription and engraving a small, heartfelt message on the inside of the arm. In a way, Gruber had always seen a bit of himself in Herbert, and now Herbert carries a piece of Gruber with him.
Alongside glasses, Gruber also gifted Herbert a Zürich sweatshirt. While it was a tad too big, he wore it a couple of times, and currently, it's neatly folded within a suitcase stowed under his bed. The suitcase also holds yellowing handwritten notes from Gruber regarding his work and Herbert, a package of his favorite chalk, and other miscellaneous keepsakes. (It may look like a horde of stationary to the ordinary eye, but to Herbert, it's much, MUCH more.)
Herbert has a soft spot and guilty pleasure for pop music. When he's sure that he's alone, within the confines of the basement's walls, he taps his foot and gradually sings the lyrics to the newest pop earworm.
While Dan specializes in cooking, Herbert specializes in baking. From a perspective, baking is similar to the scientific experiments he performed throughout his life. Herbert can be precise and deliberate, carefully measuring each ingredient and following each step with the same attention to detail he applies to his projects. A few desserts he bakes are German chocolate cake, bündner nusstorte, macaroons, and chocolate croissants.
Herbert has a massive sweet tooth, which only Dan and some stray doctors or nurses know about. Whenever he and Dan grab coffee before a shift, Herbert dumps his sugar-filled frappe into an unsuspecting paper cup, hoping that it conceals his sickly sweet indulgence behind the guise of a regular coffee. West would also make constant pit stops at his wing's hallway vending machine. Depending on how stressful his day is and which coworkers he's dealing with, he's known to stock up on candy bars, gummies, and snack cakes to get him through the day.
Herbert has two sleeping positions, the first one being the fetal position. The second? The "completely-sprawled-out-across-his bed"....position.
One of the prime reasons why West can survive such outlandish events is his intake of Re-Agent. In addition to fending off hunger pangs and completely eradicating the human body's need for sleep, the Re-Agent also boosts his immune system tenfold and allows the body to heal faster than an average person. That's why he's able to survive the Miskatonic Massacre and the mausoleum's collapse with minor bruises and scratches. (Any broken bones or internal organ damage would automatically regenerate themselves in a matter of seconds.)
When Dan eventually weans Herbert off the Re-Agent, his body collapses on itself like a stack of cards. He'd find himself plagued by hunger, but he'd be too nauseated to eat anything. He'd constantly feel lethargic, barely mustering up the strength to keep himself standing upright and conscious. His once pristine, sturdy immune system comes crumbling down, leaving him vulnerable to minor alignments and flare-ups that he can no longer easily fight. (Oh! Can't forget about those damnable migraines that come like clockwork!) Thankfully, through time, Herbert recovers, gaining back his strength and vigor…with Dan's help of course!
He sneezes like a kitten.
Herbert's handwriting might resemble chicken scratch, but he's surprisingly good at drawing. He always carries a small leather-bound sketchbook filled to the brim with anatomical studies. (What do you mean some resemble Dan?)
West knows that claw machines are rigged and are usually pay-to-win garbage, but he refuses to let his ego take a hit if he loses in front of Dan. He'll be damned if he doesn't win that cheap plushie, no matter how much he spends.
Here's a headcanon for ya! Do you think West get sick?
Honestly, it depends! It all comes down to whether he has Re-Agent in his system or not.
With the introduction of Re-Agent into his system, Herbert can go long periods without sleeping or eating and has accelerated healing accompanied by a fortified immune system and heightened senses. Overall, thanks to the Re-Agent, he's able to scrape by such vicious circumstances, such as the Miskatonic Massacre, with his life intact and a couple of minor scrapes and fractures.
However, after Dan helps ween Herbert off, that's whenever his immune system takes a nose dive. The most common ailments, such as the cold or the flu, hit Herbert like a freight train, leaving him bedridden for days. During these times, he's perhaps the whiniest and clingiest he's ever been; he can't even muster up the energy for a single sly retort to part his lips.
Additionally, during this time, the two end up miraculously bonding.
It doesn't start that way, though—Herbert's overwhelming hubris leads him to refuse Dan's assistance, while Dan grows fed up with Herbert's bullshit. However, as time passes, tensions ease, and the two grow tired of one another. It's during this moment of weariness that Herbert allows tidbits of his past to escape his lips—overall, too weary to keep his skeletons in order.
And what’s Dan’s response, you ask, to his roommate opening himself up like a belly-up frog ready for dissection in a middle school science class? Well, Dan’s there to provide the overdue support Herbert desperately needed…
saw your hc about gruber adopting herbert? do you have anymore regarding herbert's past????
I'm currently working on an abridged version of Herbert's past before the events of Re-Animator. However, one headcanon that quickly became one of my favorites is the idea that Hill knew about Herbert even before he attended Miskatonic University!
Before adopting Herbert and taking him on as his protégé, Hans Gruber worked closely with Carl Hill as the two attended Zürich, tackling the uncharted depths of neuroscience. Their research primarily focused on brain death: how it manifests, the stages involved, and if it was possible to reverse such an inevitable outcome.
Overall, they managed to make significant strides in their studies. They published a handful of scientific papers, got nominated and won some awards, and even captured the media's and overseas universities' attention. However, as years passed, their partnership began to strain as Hill continued to push for increasingly unethical experiments, challenging Gruber's ever growing ethical concerns.
Finally, the rope snapped, and the two decided to part ways, with Hill managing to snag a position as a professor at Miskatonic University's Medical School—all the way in the States. In addition to this being a fresh start where no one would know about his 'falling out' with Gruber, Dean Halsey's offer of a hefty amount of grant money, complete control over his projects, and access to cutting-edge technology and tools was the cherry on top. Everything was looking up for the neuroscientist as he took his final months at Zürich in stride.
Soon, Hill would be able to capitalize off that utter fool Gruber's work and make a name for himself—and only himself. However, everything would come crumbling down with the introduction of a young Herbert West.
His first interaction with the snot-nosed rugrat was anything but pleasant. Walking into the lab one morning, Hill caught the boy—who couldn't be older than seven—carelessly erasing his carefully calculated theories, only to scribble over them on the chalkboard. This irritated Hill to no end; however, Gruber found humor in the situation, praising the boy for his antics. (Of course, why wouldn't he?)
After chomping down on a donut and sipping his sugary coffee, he hopped off his stool and wasted no time introducing the two, creating an awkward tension in the air. The entire time, Herbert glared daggers into Hill as Gruber rambled on about Herbert’s brilliant intellect and how, despite the tragic loss of his parents in a chemical fire, he continued to persist in his relentless pursuit to conquer death. "West here possesses one of the century's most brilliant minds; no doubt he’s bound to revolutionize the future of science. Wouldn’t you agree, Carl?"
From then on, wherever Gruber went, Herbert followed, like a kicked puppy, constantly jotting down notes or offering his unsolicited input. He inserted himself into every conversation and experiment, often criticizing Hill’s work, calling him a "pompous plagiarist" (whatever that meant) and accusing him of riding on the coattails of Gruber’s success. Overall, Hill utterly despised the special treatment Herbert was receiving and Gruber's lenience towards him. That kid could unleash a lethal toxin into the air, and Gruber would brush it off, claiming that we all make mistakes when we're young. He was nothing but a spoiled brat. He was the one with multiple Ph. D.s; he was the one who had earned respect in the field, not him!
Thankfully, the day finally came when he left Switzerland and Zürich for good. No longer would he have to endure playground insults like, “A gerbil could spew better intellect than you ever could,” or the constant eye-sore of that meddling, insufferable boy who clung onto Gruber like a parasite. Soon, Hill would be free to make a name for himself—and unfathomably rich, too. Finally, a fresh, clean, slate…
That is until West attends Miskatonic 17 years later.
Headcanon that Gruber became Herbert's adoptive father after the chemical fire killed his parents. HOWEVER, unable to swallow his pride, Herbert constantly referred to him by his full name or his title, never 'dad', until Gruber's untimely death.
That is until during a heated debate in front of the class about Hill’s plagiarism of Gruber's work, Herbert gets too emotional and, in a moment of vulnerability, slips up by referring to Gruber as "his father," for everyone to hear.
dededos
stormborns
annaxmalina
snowghoul
yousharknotpass
origamiaround