Lucifarians: A Family Forged: Bios (1980): Casey Lloyd / Cas Lucifarian
"I'm gonna rip your guts out and eat them."
Name
Full Legal Name: Casey Ciar Lloyd
First Name: Casey
Meaning: From an Irish surname, an Anglicized form of 'Ó Cathasaigh', a patronymic derived from the given name 'Cathassach', which means 'Vigilant in Irish.
Pronunciation: KAY-see
Origin: English
Middle Name: Ciar
Meaning: Derived from Irish 'Ciar' meaning 'Black'.
Pronunciation: KEER
Origin: Irish, Irish Mythology, Old Irish
Surname: Lloyd
Meaning: Originally a nickname from the Welsh word 'Llwyd' meaning 'Grey'.
Pronunciation: LOID
Origin: Welsh
Ring Name: Cas Lucifarian, Gluttony, The Giantess
Commentary Nickname: The Ogress, The Carnivore, The Cannibal
Regular Moves: Double Leg Drop (To The Gut/Groin), Diving Leg Drop, Sitout Inverted Suplex Slam, Plancha, Mulekick, Big Boot, Headbutt Feeding Frenzy (Wild Punches To The Gut), Organ Grinder (Dropkick), Hungry for Blood (Diving Clothesline), Consummation (Rope Aided Corner Dropkick), 666 (Tiger Feint Kick From Between The Middle And Lowest Ropes), Vampire’s Bite (Sitout Jawbreaker), Butcher’s Knife (Open-Handed Chops)
Finishers: Overfeeding (High-Angle Senton Bomb), Cheshire Grin (Inverted Facelock Neckbreaker Slam), Let Them Eat Cake (Banzai Drop), Giantess Splash (Splash Into a Pin)
Refers To Fans As: The Gluttonous, The Gluttonous Ones
I would like to work with Lord Mammon. I would like to do more research on him and the things he would like on an altar, preferred offerings, customs, warnings etc. May I humbly request resource recommendations from you beautiful individuals who have experience, please?
Hi new people looking at my blog (coffee-n-bagels-comic-universe). My name is Kayleigh. I am 24 (Born Jan 11 2002). I am Asexual, Autistic, Genderless and a Geek Goth. I also suffer with a chronic illness called CIDP, which means sometimes I have to put up 'post delay' posts due to needing hospital care. If you like my content, feel free to stick around and give me a follow. I don't post often, but when I do, it feels nice to have a friend group on Tumblr to speak about stuff with.
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This passage contains potentially: scenes of one (or more) characters swearing, blood, self-harm (unintentional) and scenes of a violent nature. whump content and potential tear-jerking moments.
Summary: In this 'chapter' Kirby has her first fight in New Jersey, and stay in New Jersey for a week, leading to some heavy whump content by a certain someone.
Kirby's POV:
Standard match, one on one with a ten minute time limit. Not much for a debut but it's made into a big deal upon learning the opponents were male and female and not the standard male on male.
Jobber VS Newcomer.
Andrew Strong VS Kirby 'Gluttony' Lucifarian.
The bell rings and the fight starts.
"Strong throws the first punch and misses."
"The Ogress capitalises and hits him with a Feeding Frenzy."
"Strong is backed into the turnbuckle but the Ogress continues her attack."
"The referee is forced to separate them and Strong gets The Ogress in a lock-up."
"A swift knee to the stomach and Strong is staggered."
"The Ogress hits Strong with the Organ Grinder and it looks like it's all over."
"She covers Strong and … one … two … three. She's done it! The Ogress has won!"
Walking back to the locker room, I caught a glimpse of Moolah as she sneers at me and I shrug her off, focusing on getting into some clean clothes and going back to the hotel. I change and walk out of the dressing room with my bag slung over my shoulder.
"Good work out there, Kirby."
I recognise the voice and turn to see André, "Thank you, Drey."
"Moolah, doesn't seem to like you girls."
"We're stealing the hag's time in the sun. She always hates people who do that, even if she brings them in. I'll see you soon Drey."
"See you soon, Kirby."
I start walking back to the hotel when I start hearing a voice behind me, gradually getting closer.
"Hey, Miss, I think you dropped this." A distinctly masculine voice called out.
I turned around to see what the person wanted. To my surprise they had picked up my wallet, "Huh, I didn't feel it fall out of my pocket, thank you."
The man handed it to me before introducing himself, "Paul Orndorff. I saw your match earlier, you're fast for a giant, tough too."
"Thank you, Mr Orndorff."
He looked over his shoulder, "Oh, well, I have to go, Piper's waiting for me."
"Uh well, bye Mr Orndorff."
He left without another word and I unzipped my bag slightly to place my wallet inside, zipping it back up and continuing back to the hotel. I spent the night in a cramped hotel room and went to the gym the next morning.
Setting myself up at a heavy bag and practicing as per usual, no interruptions, no one else near by to talk to.
It was as if my mind just drifted away and I went into this mental fog, no gloves on but punching as if I did, breaking through the skin on my knuckles and only stopping after I noticed smears of blood on the heavy bag.
I wiped it down and bandaged my knuckles before moving on to doing push ups, lunges, squats and other exercises that wouldn't leave me covered in blood.
I was alone for the rest of the day, so I ordered some pizza (simple, pepperoni) and relaxed in the hotel, I pulled out a sketch book from my suitcase and began sketching.
I didn't plan on sketching anything too important so I just went with what was on my mind, which happened to be Roddy, Jeez it's like I'm becoming emotionally attached to this idiot.
When I see him next I'll give him the drawing if I have it with me. I close the sketchbook and go back to the gym for around an hour, before coming back to the hotel and getting some rest.
I woke up the next morning (January 9th) and had a day much the same as the last, got up, did my morning routine, went to the gym, came back, ordered Chinese food and started drawing. It was just a shitty little thing, but once again, the Rowdy one came to mind.
What is it with Scottish men and me, is it because I'm a quarter Scottish, is it maybe because I believe in the folk tales and stories of old, of knights on white steeds, saving fair maidens and living happily ever after, while the monsters they kill or maim lie in a pool of their own blood and wish they could've had a different life?
I have no idea, and the idea of my own mind comparing me with those monsters makes me regret ever reading those stories while growing up, rather I should have stuck my head into scientific textbooks instead of tales of heroism and fantastical ghouls, then I would have never become and wrestler or met the amazing people in my life.
I look back down at the paper and decide to let Roddy have two final full page drawings on the other side of the sketches I've already drawn of him, I add in a small note on the page under a picture of Roddy that Sam had found.
The more I looked at the drawings and that lone picture, the more I realised the small details of Roddy's features, the strong jaw with a cleft chin, his hazel eyes? or are they dark blue? either way they intrigue me. And that musculature, Roddy's not slim but not a big man either, he's at that almost perfect weight to body fat ratio. Good lord, listen to me calling … Piper, Roddy, Him, perfect. I think I want to be sick, just to be rid of those thoughts.
Right as I run into the small bathroom I hear a commotion in the hallway and someone being thrown or more accurately, hurled into the other side of the bathroom wall. I take a deep breath, re-fix my mask into it's usual position and dart out into the corridor, right as the commotion ends.
The obvious victim of the bout was on the floor face down with a long, not to deep cut down the back of their left leg and was breathing heavily when I reached them.
"Woah, hey, hey buddy." I whispered to them in an effort to calm them.
"Kirby?"
FUCK
…
That Glaswegian accent, fuck, He's not even supposed to be in town, or is he?
"Piper?!" I whisper-yelled, more to myself than to him.
"Hey…" his voice trailed off, I heaved him over my shoulder and went back into my hotel room, tossing him down on the only bed and grabbing his left foot, reaching over to my suitcase and getting my personal first aid kit, nothing too fancy, some bandages, plasters, the bare essentials. I cleaned the cut and bandaged it, taping the bandage in place.
I glanced up from Roddy's leg and saw that he had passed out, "Shit." I muttered to myself, louder than I thought and his eyes flickered open.
"Kirby? Is that you?" His voice weak but still understandable.
I stood there, frozen to the spot, unable to move, I wanted to cry as I realised how badly he had been beaten up, his eyebrow cut, coming close to his eye, his hairline a mix of matted brown hair and blood that was starting to coagulate and then I started to notice more things wrong with Roddy's visage.
His shirt (a Piper classic, yellow with a wild cat graphic) was torn in several places, showing bruises and nicks in his flesh. His kilt, however, was fully intact, including his belt and sporran, though all of it was scuffed with little scratches, but no cuts.
"Kirby? Kirby talk to me, please?" He spoke so carefully and it broke me.
I dropped to my knees, weeping, and Roddy shot to his feet, before dropping down on his left side and leaning on the bed, getting only a couple of steps closer to me.
"Kirby, are you okay?"
"Roddy, look at ya," I took a deep breath in, "How can you be so beat up and worried about me? How is that possible?"
"Kirby? look at ya, you're crying over me? I thought you didn't care about me that much?"
I wiped the tears from my face and got Roddy back on the bed.
"Stay there, Piper."
"Oh, feisty."
"Roddy! Stay on the bed and don't move."
"Yes Ma'am."
I trudged into the bathroom and ran a long cold shower, and I heard him move off the bed before swearing and sitting back on the bed.
"I thought I said, DON'T MOVE Roddy!"
"Alright, alright. … feisty"
After the shower, I dressed in the bathroom after drying myself off and exited the room. I instantly noticed a sleeping Piper.
"I guess I'll sleep on the floor then."
"C'mere." He lazily waved his arm to try and beckon me over.
"No, Roddy, get some rest."
"Come here and get in the bed." He rolled over and picked up the duvet, lackadaisically blowing a joking kiss in my direction.
"Jesus, Roddy, fine."
I climbed into the bed and felt Roddy's arms curl around my waist and his face between my shoulder blades.
"Rod, get off."
"Wha'?"
"Get off of me."
"Why?"
"Aren't you married, get off."
"if I was married, there would be a ring on my finger," He waved his left hand in front of my face, "No ring, no wife."
"Oh. Still, get off."
"Now, would that be 'get off' in the, leave me alone, way or the 'get off' in the, I love you take me now, way." The latter a clear joke but it annoyed me even more.
"Leave me alone, Roddy."
He slid his arms off and rolled to face the other way.
"Small bed, Kirby."
"I wasn't expecting company, Piper."
"Your tattoos are nice."
"Sleep, Piper."
"I'm just saying."
"Roddy, you are injured, sleep."
"I looked through your sketchbook earlier, y'know, when you were in the shower, just flicked through it, and wow, you're a great artist."
"For the love of God, Roddy! would you please just get some sleep."
"Alright!, alright. No need to yell."
"One more word and I'm chucking you out the nearest window."
We both fell silent and managed to get some sleep, it wasn't until sunrise that either one of us awoke. As I stirred from my slumber I was face to face with the Scottish idiot. I yelped and, without realising his legs were intertwined with mine, fell off the bed with him falling on top of me, waking Roddy up in the process.
"Oh, well, morning sweetheart, did I wake ya."
"Rod, get ya damn 'Loch Ness Monster' away from me."
Rod's cheeks turned pink and he quickly looked down between our bodies before sheepishly standing up and hurrying to the bathroom, I took the chance to change into a graphic tee and some black jeans, not noticing that Piper had left the bathroom door wide open, until I heard his voice.
"Woah, so uh, all of you is bigger than normal?"
I yelped and threw one of my shirts at his face, before realising that I had thrown the shirt I was planning on wearing at him, "Wait, Roddy, I need that shirt."
He laughed before handing me back my shirt, "Uh, thank you … for …saving me last night."
"Were you even supposed to be in town?"
"Well no, but I …" He trailed off
"I can't hear you, Roddy?"
"It's nothing, really."
I continued on with my normal routine, mindful that Roddy was in the same room as me and injured. It wasn't until the phone rang that I had a problem, before I could reach the phone Roddy had already answered it.
"Who is this?"
I could hear a loud, angry voice on the phone and Piper got defensive.
"You think you're a hard man do ya?!"
Damien. That's got to be Damien, which means I am in some real trouble now. Thanks Piper, ya dafty.
"I'll get her to call ya back once you've calmed down."
He slammed the phone back into it's place and breathed out a hefty sigh.
"Kirby, is Damien your boyfriend?" He seemed instantaneously calm
I almost choked on air for a moment, "No! He's my manager, and he's like double my age. He's Vic," I paused for a moment, "He's my dad, as well as the other members of the D.O.D. We're not all his biological daughters though, just Vickie."
"So, he adopted you?"
"I guess you could say that." I avoided looking him in the eyes.
"Tell me the truth. Now!"
"Promise you won't tell anyone first."
"I won't tell a soul, now, why are you so, uptight, about who he is to you."
"First things first, my name isn't Kirby Lucifarian, it's actually Kirby Trevor."
"Oh, so Damien's not you're adoptive father, either?"
"No, my real parents are Heaven and Eric Trevor. Damien's Vickie's dad and only Vickie's dad."
"Are either one of your parents giants? or is it just you?"
"Just me, the closest person to me in height, family-wise was my uncle Rory. He's the reason I have the tattoo on my wrist."
I walked up to Piper and showed him the 'R' tattooed on my right wrist.
"So, he passed away?"
"Yeah. He died, eleven, no no, twelve years ago now, when I was Seventeen, My uncle Vaughn died a couple months later, he's why I have the lighter on my left arm, my uncle Vaughn was best known for being, in the nicest terms, a layabout smoker, and the smoke took him in the end."
"So, you have a lighter to remember a man who died by smoking?"
"Dark, I know, but uncle Vaughn would've laughed at it. Erik laughed at it when I explained it to him."
"Eric, your dad?"
"No, no, Erik, with a 'K', my old tag partner before I joined the D.O.D. I think you would've liked him."
"Really, now why would I like a guy I know nothing about?"
"Well, Erik's Scottish, He's from Edinburgh. He's tall-ish, then again I am a giant, so who am I to say what's tall, he's six-foot-five. He played the bagpipes when he was younger, he quit playing when he was twenty-three, same year we lost the tag titles."
"Rough," He interrupted "Continue, please."
"Uh, well. Erik's strong, very strong, he would compete in the Highland games and well, … I guess back then I thought I'd never leave him, until Damien gave me an offer I couldn't refuse and I left him. I had a whole life with him planned inside my head and I left it all behind, for what, cramped hotel rooms and breakfasts with André."
"You had breakfast with André the giant and you didn't tell me … You, You had a good Scottish man, and you left him, for," He gestured to the room, "all this?"
"Well I jus-"
"No," He held my jaw and looked me straight in the eyes, "You had a life, a man who obviously a close relationship with you, and you gave it up for breakfasts with André and shitty hotel rooms."
"I know I'm stupid."
"But you're not stupid, you saved me, I could have died in that hallway and you brought me in here, you stopped that bastard from killing me. I could kiss you."
"Please don't."
Sorry for cliff-hanger ending, but … END OF BLOODY, BEATEN, BRUISED or MAXIMUM EFFORT.
In Part 14 Rod and Kirby move in to a house together, here is what the house looks like (Sims 4 Screenshots)
Outside:
Basement to top floor:
It's based in Salem, Oregon and is very empty because this is what the previous owners left it as when Rod bought the house and he and Kirby move into it together. After they move in:
I decided to make their work out gear also their In-Ring costumes. It's easier to design stuff when I know just how important it is, or if it needs to stick to a theme. Hopefully this helps people visualise the characters in this series.
Damien:
Young looking Damien, gold tooth is you look closely, different skull belt, thumb nails painted with purple nail polish and a 'V' on both.
Vickie:
1984 Vickie, simple but effective, hair pulled back into a bun, front strands, lipstick (because perfectionist), top matches lips matches nails, no tattoos or piercings.
Billie:
1984 Billie, Bouffant hair, face paint (to link to her family's lucha libre history), lips match her hoodie, loose jeans with a black faux leather belt, belly button piercing visible.
