Oh, what IS this place?! Oh, I DON'T like what I'm thinking... AM I... IN HELL? nononono. no! I wanted to be better... I just, wasn't! I can't be damned for something I can't even remember! I took all those DRUGS so I wouldn't know how BAD I was, And I turned into something so much WORSE.
me, writing arthur: paragraphs and paragraphs at a time, oodles upon oodles of headcanons and explanations, always knows how to do his dialogue, always wants to write him at any and all time, can basically explain every living part of him to you in any way possible
“Ah, sorry, sorry- I tend to go on those sorts of tirades every once in a blue moon. Didn’ mean to scare you or anything.”
[ He spoke, a pang of fear, yet regret in his voice. It was an odd mixture. He didn’t truly understand why they called themselves a “god.” Made no sense to him. They were as normal as the others.. well, maybe not really. ]
“But-.. a-anyhow, I’ll say this again. Would you at least go in the club with me?”
[ He knew they’d probably deny him again, but it was worth another try, at least. ]
there was a silent relief. hand slides to chest. body grows defensive. one step was taken aback, along with another. blue cast is cocked up and down, studying the other as best as he can. it would be a lie to say that the sharp change in the other didn’t bring the bliss back down. reality flashed in, at least for a moment, from the rush of fear. there was a brief thought about calling the bobbies. surely someone who acted like this couldn’t have had proper amounts, right?
thankfully though, it wouldn’t have to come to that.
“ tch. i can, i mean, i will... but does it have to be right now? “ hands, shaking from the falling of the high, lift up hesitantly. “ i came out here to have a break! i couldn’t tell you how many women i just shagged in there. i... think they were all women? anyway, my knob can’t handle another for a good hour or so, man! look, what’s so spooky about going in there yourself? “
‘ that’s not really– okay. ‘ she didn’t move from her spot despite how close he’d gotten and that she was pretty close to teetering backward on her heels, but it wouldn’t hurt to let him buy her one and she could sneak him a few bills after. weak hotel coffee was the least of her problems. was she supposed to know who nick lightbearer was? ‘ i’m kinsey? ‘
it didn’t take more than a swift few moments to grab the coffee from the breakfast bar. unfortunately though, those moments were filled with rather snarkish remarks from the rockstar and disappointment from the barista. he comes back though, as if it was normal as day. hand outstretches, retracting only after the coffee had been given the other.
“ there we go, miss -- kinsey, you said? heh, you were so quiet when i left a moment ago. “ he sits now, across from her, drinking his own cup as well. “ sorry it took a few. blasted bird wouldn’t try to make it fresh for you!!! but how else can you enjoy a cuppa otherwise, right? “
do you ever just sit and think sometimes that you ran pizzerxa at 16 years old and you were really popular at that time and some of the shit you said was ridiculous at that age and some of the people following me when seeing the rebornica and pizzerxa drama were like “dude what the fuck she’s only 16″
❝ You know, America is a VERY STRANGE PLACE. ❞ He’s talking in-between shovelling mouthfuls of pancakes into his mouth. He’s just woken up from a much-needed deep sleep of thirty-six hours or thereabouts (thanks to those little blue pills) and James feels like he could eat the whole damn menu at the diner. Never mind the fact that it’s three in the morning and he and his companion are the only people in the place, save for the weird old man drinking coffee alone in the corner. Weirdo.
❝ Comin’ to America feels like a foreign country— just as much as Japan or Brazil or Italy. I don’t know if I like it yet. I haven’t made up my mind. sometimes I think I do, and then something changes my mind, but— ❞ He pauses. The pancakes are gone and now he’s quickly moving on to the cheese omelette. ❝ I mean, you can’t get this sort of heart-attack-on-a-plate kinda shite back home, so maybe that’s one point for the Americans. ❞
watching the other gobble down their food is almost... how does nick put it. disappointing? nah, nah. not quite. frightening? perhaps. nick never felt much of an appetite after downing booze or taking and mixing medications. though he wouldn’t say no to a free plate of food. after all, this world was a fresh start to him. no one knew his face around here! so it was nice to still be able to feel that old life. at least once more.
nick got a simple ham and cheese sandwich. a swirl of ketchup coats the cheese, oozing from the bread. a bite is taken, slow chewing, and a swallow.
“ a heart attack? people can have those from food? “ give the recovering druggie a break -- the world he came from was a vastly, entirely different place. sammy hovers just above mouth. blue eyes squint from furrowing brows. a confused brain racks upon the question. head leans forward as cogs turn non-stop; what a strange concept! another bite of the sandwich. “ i mean, i suppose i could agree? but we didn’t really have much food back home! seeing all of... that... is certainly eye-opening! “
today i decided to replay nick’s dlc! not only to catch back up and remain canon, but to look into his journals and the notes / environment around a little deeper to see if i can discover anything more about him, the game’s story, and the timeline of the game.
i have to say it somewhat surprised me that nick has handwriting that’s legible. i figured it would be similar to sally’s -- very here and there with hardly any grammar, punctuation, and horrendous spelling. yet nick’s journals though brief, are quite linguistic. a pleasant surprise.
but without further ado, my metas are under the cut! a very long read so i hope you enjoy it. i tried my best to divide it into some sort of organization as i could. <3
GENERAL LORE :
ever wondered what an original joy bottle looks like? well, nick has one.
it’s tucked in the far back in his kitchen, behind a light on his shelf. initially i thought it was some random drug and it was more proof of the dlc being pre-game. but if you look closer, the words underneath wellington wells’ emblem say “EVERY DAY, JOIN THE FUN” which is a clear indication of what it actually was. and beside the emblem, just to the right, if you really squint, it says “FLAVOR:” but it’s hidden and you can’t sneak around to the other side. however, considering how old it is, especially from the wear and tear on the sticker, one could probably imagine it being haworth’s own vanilla.
which intrigues me. i wouldn’t doubt that nick was one of the very first people who got the initial batches. virgil dainty found him when he was still a young poet in his teenage years. meaning he probably snatched him when he was around 16. if we play it out like he was 16 when the train came and took all 13 and under, nick would be around 32 during the base game. but i honestly doubt that since the make believes released more singles than albums, and they released the album around the time of strawberry’s release, as inferred by the cover of the album. so for now and to me, nick is somewhere between mid-late 30s.
speaking of joy though, does anyone remember the whole debate about the type of joy nick was taking in the dlc? it wasn’t any type at all. in fact, it was something sally made herself.
“Vibing my guitar always helps me remember things. Like where I put my Sally Specials.”
Those reds and yellows are just another one of the many street drugs that Sally sells to her clients. Probably something like rainbow and the like, but much, much weaker and not as long-lasting. After all, Nick has to take five at one time to black out. Probably at least three of them to feel any sort of a buzz at all. ( as a side note, it personally makes me wonder if sally had anything to do with the production phlash. i’d love to see if there were any notes of it anywhere. )
I had a headcanon a while back that the woman using the power cell was using a sex toy. After all, she has a suitcase that’s cleverly hidden under her bed. If Nick believes it’s this, it makes sense that he’s aware of the “fun part of town,” unlike Arthur and Ollie once in the Parade. Yes, he goes there for sex and relief, but also because he makes deals with the owners to sell adult-themed merch. Wouldn’t be surprised if there were dildos, lube, even lingerie like Nick’s threads -- very, very plausible if there are full sex dolls.
With the Sally Specials and the Joy Bottle being so old, it could still be proof that it’s pre-game as well. After all, if Nick is still around Sally ONLY to obtain to drugs from her, then it could be easily inferred. After all, Sally remembers her time with Nick in the past together, not in the present. And that is pre-1964.
A LITTLE MORE ABOUT NICKY :
it’s absolutely no secret that nick hates himself. from the scratches on the mirror that hide his face and spell “USELESS,” to the inferred suicidal attempts from downing entire bottles of joy with alcohol. the puke is always so rancid in the sink. but there’s also this, too.
it’s funny how nick tends to keep scratching at his head and his eyes. the persona is who he’s trying to cover up i imagine, considering that there are multiple voicelines in the game that says he never meant to cause any harm. and he never meant to commit all the unpleasantries that come with being a rockstar. one of them being infidelity and adultery, and another being a general asshole to the public. overtime i believed that nick gained celebrity syndrome. which is essentially just being a karen on steroids. nick believes he doesn’t need to pay for anything, and he also has the innate ability to give orders to people. just because, in his mind, he’s the best in the world. the avalon’s manager wants to get back at him once and for all for his bossy attitude. but he’s not the only one who feels that, either.
petunia does as well.
nick’s love-life is an extremely complicated one. aside from the the various forms of substance abuse and exposure to said substances, nick has always had his rockstardom become the center of his universe. see, this is all headcanon but, i personally believe that nick was coddled as a child by his overbearing mother. mama told him the world would love him. and mama told him that the world would never hurt him, and that it would be perfect and easy to get through. but then he saw just how hurtful people could be, and just how much hate the world had to offer. and to him, at that. it was extremely difficult to find love in anything and anyone. especially himself. so finding petunia was very, very reassuring. after all, she did promise him, as nick said during the boss fight, to be the lighthouse on all his rocky shores. indicating that she would be the one to lead him back home, and make him stable. and i’m sure for a while, it did.
canonically, until nick lightbearer overtook norbert pickles. he found so many more people who loved him that way. and thus, he let the life of his own stardom take over everything else. including his love life. even more so when the birds threatened hatred and slander to his name if they couldn’t shag him. and if they didn’t manipulate him, nick was so afraid of losing another fan that he wouldn’t care. it felt good anyway, why not fuck people? he keeps a fan, doesn’t worry about being hated, and keeps the life of love toward him going.
not even thinking about petunia in the process. and instead of showing him that he didn’t need all the fans, instead of showing him that he needed to remain faithful and loyal, she lashed out and belittled him from every other corner. though he did deserve it for encouraging her into polygamy and bigamy and definitely by his demanding attitude(later in the note it mentions how he was a henpicker), she did not help his mental state in any capacity. petunia, the moment she didn’t help him anymore and show him the love he thought she promised him, became nothing more than someone who belittled him. truthfully nick never meant to hurt her, but it’s seen through his celebrity ideology that he truly believes in quantity over quality. a sad shame. nick’s mental state is so fucked he doesn’t even really know what true love is by this point. meaning he could potentially be easily manipulated without realization.
despite all this though, i found this to be especially intriguing:
a little hard to read, but this is during the scene before he fights the fans at the contest. his journal reads:
“They think I’m an IMPERSONATOR? Have I lost the Lightbearer aura? How much lower can I sink?”
this heavily implies that nick sets his own idolism over his chances of being a murderer. meaning that somewhere, deep in the crevasse of his subconscious, nick is so desperate for some true love and still can’t grasp hatred that he is clinging onto his persona for as much love as he can. even if it’s fake. thrice as intriguing when one learns that, during his breakdowns, he always explains how he wants his fans to know who he really is:
“i wonder if i remember how to sound polite,” “things are sure to look up once i’m not soaked in hemoglobin.”
an intelligent, young man who was so wrongly brought up into the world by an attached mother who never taught him what punishment really was. nick has been using his celebrity name as a clutch for so long that he’s having difficulty remembering who he really was, or if he can ever be norbert pickles again. he cannot handle being a celebrity, and he never could because of what his mother taught him and grew him to be. yet somewhere deep down, he knows his true self is there. but what nick doesn’t know how to do is accept the hatred of the world enough, especially to him, in order to ever take norbert pickles out.
it’s a constant mish-mash. he can hardly handle the hatred from being a celebrity, but what he does handle from stardom is what keeps him going with it. a war between nick lightbearer and norbert pickles. but neither side has proper ammo because the battlefield is strife with a lack of vegetation.
nick lightbearer in himself is an irony. he shines so bright for everyone around him but yet truly, the light is most needed for himself.
i see people compare nick to john lennon or ringo starr, but tbh, knowing who he is, i compare him more to george harrison than any of the other beatles. after all, he was known as “the silent beatle,” and never really wanted to have his personal life known to the public. he didn’t want his career to control him, but it did and it fucked up his mentality. and it didn’t help because eventually, after john died, he exposed how shitty he felt with him being around.
so just like nick, george’s life was entirely changed by being a rockstar. (albeit, his backstory isn’t really dug into so all of the fandom’s backstories of nick’s are headcanons. however, i think all of his addiction and mental illnessess came from an overly-coddled home) he never wanted to live the life of a rockstar. he just wanted to make music, just to feel better. just like george did.
that and george was one of the people the dentist drugged, so... george also had an LSD ADDIC TION SDLBFNOFDJGFK
‘Is that how I sound?’ Private double blinks. His brothers had teased him for his hackney British for years. It’s interesting to hear someone with an accent so close to his. And judging by the way his brothers had looked at him only moments ago- Private’s suspicions are confirmed.
‘Could you believe it? This gent seems almost accustomed to talking animals.’ The smallest penguin continues, however his team seemed to have noticed something he hadn’t and had disappeared without him! It’s likely Private had been so preoccupied he’d missed an order.
‘Oh heck.’
it was strange, this world. somehow so futuristic but so retro all at once. it was so different but so similar. technology was far advanced. but there were some devices that were so far inferior to those back home. but if there was one thing that could set this world so apart from wellington wells were the animals.
it reminded him of virgil. frighteningly so!! he tried so hard to forget about all that after he fell back into his sad, dependent addictions. but unfortunately, hearing all these birds add lyrics to their melodies, the chants of the bees, and all the begging of the puppies brought everything back. nick was convinced, at first, that he took a pill or four before leaving the house. but recounting steps proved otherwise.
strangely, it was somewhat relaxing after the first week. nobody knew him. he could be a clean state: no fandoms to regulate, bend, or feed; no fans to hide away from; no horrifying authority or demanding managers. he could be himself. hopefully, people will like him. hopefully people won’t hate him.
he was strumming away at his guitar in the park. fingers flying up and down along the strings and voice rattling out. still, even if people had no qualms with this strange man, fears and insecurities kick in rather swift. not only that, but the veering face of addiction oft found itself digging at nick’s tailbone. strumming at his brand new acoustic seemed to alleviate the desire, and the need.
“ oh, hello. you’re a... “ nick’s blue eyes glanced up from hands to scan for visitors. there was a friend here! not human, but strangely a little penguin. ...can it sing like the other birds he’s listened to? “ penguin? i don’t think you belong out in a park! isn’t it warm for you? “
a tilted head.
“ can you sing, like your feathered mates? i’m playing my guitar! it’d be nice if i had a pretty bird’s voice as back-up. “
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