Ryan Ashley looking gorgeous with the Bride Of Frankenstein hair

Gorgeous George Promotional Shot [1999]

One of the best parts about Macho Man Randy Savage returning back to WCW in early-1999 was that he brought along his current real-life girlfriend with him, Stephanie Bellars. She was repackaged as Gorgeous George and became one of Savage’s valets along with Miss Madness (Nora Greenwald/Molly Holly) and Madusa (who were Bellars’ real-life trainers at the WCW Power Plant).

Gorgeous George didn’t have much of an in-ring career in WCW, but she DOES have one win against current-WWE referee “Lil’ Naitch” Charles Robinson. In fact, I remember there being a rumor that Vince McMahon was very interested in bringing in the pair of Randy Savage with Gorgeous George, but we all know that this never occurred (but would have been fantastic to see, though).

Title: (still undecided. help.)
Fandom: Noblesse.
Desc.: Excerpts from “Noblesse: Except It’s a Mermaid AU”… basically. Characters for the fully-planned fic include: Frankenstein, Cadis Etrama di Raizel, Urokai Agvain, M-21, Takeo, Tao, and other unplanned cameos not yet set in stone. Excerpts are very Frankenstein + Urokai centric, though.
Rating: M (for future chapters ofc).
Current warnings: swearing. Thank you, Urokai.

i - in which Urokai Agvain makes himself (far too) well-known.

Everyone at Harvard, by default, feared Urokai Agvain almost irrationally. He was loud, grated on the nerves of the entire student body (even saints had come to despise this man), and was infamous for making horribly bad and hasty decisions. These decisions, more often than not, blew up right in his face. No one would have complained about that.

That is, had they not been caught up in his mess by coincidence as well. 

Urokai’s decisions not only bordered on the edge of total insanity, but they resulted in a landslide of collateral damage, too. It was a wonder he had been accepted to any school – what was even more astonishing was that he had managed to collect any friends at all.

Frankenstein couldn’t imagine who it was that wanted to be friends with Urokai without wanting something back from him. Maybe they wanted his money? His family’s various clothing and fashion companies? They had to want something.

If not – well, then, whoever happened upon Urokai and managed to like him clearly had some penchant for collecting insane things.

Urokai, the man himself, unfortunately was one such person. Frankenstein feared that if he ever found such a like-minded friend… well, on that day, he might as well hurl himself off a cliff, because the world would be ending shortly anyway.

However, putting aside his own doubts regarding Urokai Agvain, he had to admit: The fear of their colleagues was most certainly an irrational fear. Because Frankenstein himself had been friends (or well, a perversion of the word and its meaning, at least) with Urokai in college.

And he was still friends with Urokai, despite what that might say about his character.

They had been roommates. Beyond his poor practice at the guitar, there was little else about Urokai that could truly harm or scare anyone. Once Frankenstein had gotten to know him well, the redhead was quite tame. And Frankenstein learnt many things about Urokai Agvain. Listed below in Frankenstein’s careful documentation of his college journey are three of these things:

One. He only become intolerable when he desperately wanted something.

Two. He became horribly manic when he was faced with obstacles that could not be solved by his throwing money or designer clothing at them, and when he was manic he threw tantrums.

Three. Urokai’s tantrums were loud.

Terribly, frightening, murderously loud.

And unfortunately for Frankenstein, these three facts – despite all his careful calculations of over six years – had collided into one instant in time.

And even more unfortunately, the victim was none other than himself.

“Frankenstein,” Urokai pleaded, “you’re a doctor!”

“A human doctor, last I was even studying—”

“Still, the only doctor I know!” Urokai practically wailed.

That had to be untrue, because Urokai, with his money and his connections (one couldn’t call most of them friends, not when Urokai chased him off with a biting venom when most tried to inch closer), had to know a multitude of doctors. It was just Frankenstein’s luck that Urokai had decided to latch onto him in particular.

“I will not bring anything into my house,” Frankenstein snapped at him, “and especially not if it’s you telling me to.”

That was untrue. Perhaps Frankenstein would be willing to take under his wing any animal that Urokai offered up to him, perhaps even inclined to take good care of the thing. He knew how Urokai was about his pets; the redhead had practically bawled all night into Frankenstein’s lap when the kitten that they had snuck into their dorm together from a storm, one night during their second year of school, died a week later.

But anything but this particular specimen. Urokai really chose the worst tasks to delegate to Frankenstein. Did he think that Frankenstein was also insane, like him?

“I can’t trust anyone with Rai,” Urokai blubbered, shifting here and there restlessly. It was driving Frankenstein insane. “He’s too fragile, you know? Delicate! I knew it the second I brought him home that I can’t bring him to any old veterinarian! Not a specialist, either – I don’t trust any of them. None of them! Fucking elitist pricks, draining all your money and just shoving twenty prescriptions at you. They’re all going to treat him badly, I know that much. You’re the only one I can trust, it doesn’t even take that much, I bet it’s easy for you! You’re smart! Frankenstein, you can do it? Right? Right, Frankenstein?”

Urokai was lucky that he had someone like Frankenstein who could tolerate him.

ii - in which Urokai delivers his prized specimen.

Urokai’s revered “Rai” arrived, at 4:47AM one early morning, in the back of a noisy pickup truck that roused Frankenstein from his light sleep. Urokai’s irritating excuse of a vehicle could be heard on the other side of the neighbourhood. 

“For Christ’s sake,” Frankenstein griped, shoving the key into the wrought iron gates at the front of his house, “can’t you even keep the things you own quiet?”

“Dragus is old,” Urokai shot back just as quickly, noisily pulling the car past the gate and around the side of Frankenstein’s lawn, “and I needed to bring him in a large enough truck to hide him. One of us needs to think smart.”

“So that’s why you were always at the bottom of the class,” Frankenstein grumbled, dutifully moving out of the way as Urokai flung his door open and headed towards the back of the truck.

“I heard that, motherfucker,” Urokai shouted, but made no move to throw back another retort. He was too busy looking over his shoulder and back and forth at the empty street. Then he flung the old white tarp out of the way of the glass.

Frankenstein’s breath caught in his throat.

“How – how did you get this thing?” he demanded.

“A friend,” said Urokai hastily, “a friend who knew a friend. It’s – it’s maybe not… I wasn’t really thinking about it.”

Illegally! So Urokai had bought a merman – and probably the most gorgeous breed Frankenstein had seen in his life – and he had done it illegally!

“You fucking idiot,” said Frankenstein.

iii - in which Urokai fusses, and fusses, and fusses.

“I think he’s sick,” Urokai said desperately now that he knew Frankenstein’s full attention was on his merman, “I tried everything online, I bought every mermaid-care book, and it’s not working!”

Urokai bought a book. This was serious, then.

All the while, Urokai was heaping symptom upon symptom on Frankenstein, not stopping to even breathe. “He won’t eat,” he said, voice strained, “he won’t sing, or blow bubbles. They’re supposed to blow bubbles, right? Some fish, I read it, it says they blow bubbles when they’re happy!”

“What species is he?”

“I don’t know,” Urokai snapped, and kept going: “I think the stripes on his tail are fading. They’re supposed to glow! All the photos that I found, of all the fish that look like him – they glow!”

“It could just be a result of his breeding?”

Urokai shook his head furiously. “He glowed when I bought him!”

“Then perhaps he doesn’t like you?” Urokai paled, looking suddenly drained at Frankenstein’s teasing. Frankenstein hastened to fix his mistake. “That’s not what I meant. He —fish have to settle in, right? Maybe it’s the same with mermaids?”

“Maybe,” said Urokai mysteriously, suddenly hovering off to the side of the tank and staring off into the empty street. “Maybe,” he said again, and it was clear that there would be no use trying to glean information from him right now, when he was sulking.

“Look at his fingers,” Frankenstein whispered in awe, “no claws!”

“Right?!” Urokai began nodding, vigourously as if to the beat of a song. “That’s why I bought him! He’s beautiful! He’s the perfect merman!”

“You are insane,” Frankenstein said, disgusted, as he rolled up his sleeve. “Now, are you going to help me get your fish inside the house or not?”

iv - in which Frankenstein tries to feed a merman.

The trouble with this whole pet-keeping trouble was getting them to eat. Humans at least had the gall to tell you when they hated something, and could tell you exactly what they wanted instead. Even if Frankenstein had thrown hours into researching and preparing various foods that mermaids and mermen might take interest in (considering the various species of fish that Rai might have been descended from or based upon, even!), he would have appreciated a “no thank you,” or a “I’d prefer steak”.

Instead, he got a blank stare as he approached with his various bowls of steaming and cooled food alike and placed them, delicately, on the ground in front of Rai.

There was meat, both cooked and uncooked – Frankenstein had no clue what was Rai’s preference, even if he might be able to digest both. Fish could be carnivorous, right? Urokai had said he’d gotten the information from the handler himself. Then again, when Rai’s handler had only been taking care of him illegally

It would hardly harm Rai’s health to have a bite, and if it turned out he had more and it affected him poorly, Frankenstein could take that out of the equation.

He didn’t even need to consider it, because Rai wrinkled his nose at it and passed to the next altogether, peering into the next plate with a curious glance.

Seaweed. Dried and wet. Rai spared it a glance, poked at each pile silently, and then moved on to the next dish.

He ignored the shrimp and the crab as well, to Frankenstein’s frustration. Did he not like eating sea creatures? Was it simply not his taste?

Rai took one look at the plate of fish – a carefully prepared salmon that Frankenstein had thought to cut up so that it was no longer recognisable – and gave a bodily shudder. Then he turned his nose from it entirely and sat, staring off with blank eyes into the water.

When he received no response, Frankenstein collected the dishes and dumped them into the kitchen sink unceremoniously.

Then he collapsed at the table, clasped his hands atop the wooden surface,and sighed into the empty room.

Perhaps Rai needed a friend.

v - in which Frankenstein goes hunting for a friend.

He ended up at the shop again, this time without Urokai. Urokai had said something about needing to model some clothes for this or that brand this weekend, and had dumped the entire thing on Frankenstein.

That was what he got for trying to be nice.

He didn’t know a thing about mermen. He had considering finding Rai a lady friend, so to say, but it seemed a poor idea. He wasn’t sure about breeding with merpeople, and he didn’t think he wanted to risk it happening so soon in his days of merman-raising, either.

No matter the low possibility of it happening with Rai, of all mermen, Frankenstein planned to play it safe.

He glanced about the glass tanks and caught sight of an interesting specimen.

“How about that one?” he said, pointing out the particular merman to the specialist. This one had long grey hair – down to his shoulders, Frankenstein was sure, if they let it hang dry – and was striped up and down in maroon and white. The spikes running up and down the merman’s arms were concerning, at a first glance, but Frankenstein didn’t think it was an issue when Rai balked at touching even the decorations in his temporary tank, as if they might stained his clear skin somehow.

Frankenstein wondered if Rai might like this one.

“Pretty, but he’s monstrous. Genetic failure,” the caretaker shrugged. “They were trying to breed something out of a lionfish and another gorgeous fish. Ended up with 21 instead.”

“21?” said Frankenstein, blinking.

“There were more,” said the old man, “but lucky me, I haven’t got them. Just number 21 is one too many, already. Could you imagine if I had even another? The whole shop would be scared stiff of them!”

The lionfish glared at him through the glass, grey eyes sparkling with indignance. Frankenstein thought he might understand them. He didn’t think that mermaids were capable of human speech, but if dogs and cats could communicate – even if just through purrs and nudging of noses – then wouldn’t merfolk?

The caretaker ignored his lingering and moved on promptly, already gesturing towards another fine merman. That one, Frankenstein’s own merman would like, the blonde was well-assured. This one behaved just fine and liked socialising with others, and would not immediately lash out at any owners or at possible friends. Frankenstein would have a grand time with this one, he was told – it was beautiful, likable, and no trouble to care for at all.

An absolutely grand time. Frankenstein nodded along to the caretaker’s words. Wouldn’t that be nice?

vi. in which Frankenstein returns to the shop with company.

The engraved name plate read, in silver: “Takeo”.

“That’s a troublesome one,” said the shop owner. “He makes a fuss over small spaces. People who’ve returned him say he wakes them up in the middle of the night with his wailing. It’ll be expensive to keep him. We might send him back.”

Frankenstein looked at the merman settled in the corner of the tank. Takeo straight back looked back, ice blue eyes cold and glassy, then looked away again. It seemed as if he were trying to stare even deeper into his little corner.

He didn’t look like the sort to complain.

“He doesn’t show it now, but the second he comes into the house, he starts.” The shopkeeper gave Takeo a last glance, then turned back towards the counter. “I’d say better not buying him it all. I’ll return him soon. I’ll try, anyway –even the people who caught him, I doubt even they want him back.”

“What do you think, Urokai?” said Frankenstein.

“I don’t care,” Urokai replied, tapping away at his phone. “A friend’s a friend. Rai will like whoever. He’s just like that, you know?”

The last bit was said somewhat dreamily, the redhead daring to look away from his game for just a moment to stare into the thin air. A moment later, Urokai went right back to furiously clicking at his app.

“Are you sure you don’t want to help pick?” Frankenstein said, one last time. He sounded almost helpless, to his own ears.

“One more minute,” Urokai said, voice raised – “I’ve almost got Rei Sakuma’s card! Almost!”

vii - in which they try to take home Rai’s new friend.

The shopkeeper was wrong. Takeo didn’t wail.

The merman practically screamed.

It started in the back of the truck. Even Urokai planted his hands on his ears, screaming right back at their purchase to shut the fuck up or we’ll take you back, but the noise continued. No one stopped them on the way out of the area – maybe they had seen that particular merman leave the shop far too many times.

Frankenstein was pulled over once by the authorities on the way home, however, and had to produce his papers and proof of purchase.

“This is such a fucking mess,” Urokai griped when he climbed back into the car, “do you have to get another one?”

“A friend’s a friend,” Frankenstein reminded him, suddenly and thoroughly hating everything in the world. The truck started up again, puttering loudly. At least it drowned out the sounds of Urokai’s whining and Takeo’s wailing. “And anyway, don’t you feel some sense of comradery in this one?”

“Why!” shouted Urokai, dragging the hood of his sweater back over his head, “why would I feel something like that!”

“He’s fucking noisy,” Frankenstein replied with a scathing vengeance as he veered back onto the road, “just like you.”

viii. in which Urokai becomes an animal rights advocate. 

Somewhere along the line, though Frankenstein hadn’t noticed it, his house had filled up with strange signs. Cardboard posts, strung messily up on plastic bars with things like: “MERMEN HAVE VOICES, TOO” and “SANCTUM AQUATICS = ANIMAL KILLERS” littered the floor of Frankenstein’s rooms.

“And what,” said Frankenstein, advancing on a clueless Urokai as he striped tape along the back of another plastic post sign, “do you think you are doing, Urokai?”

Urokai froze up.

“I’m advocating?” said Urokai sheepishly, turning around to face Frankenstein. At least he had the decency to look frightened halfway to death.

“Get your trash out of my house.”

Urokai’s wailing was almost as loud as Takeo’s the day they had dragged his tank from the shop. Frankenstein quelled it immediately with promises of dinner, after which Urokai wrapped himself in Frankenstein’s favourite blanket and steals two mugs of his hot chocolate. And that was after eating twice his own portion of pasta and consuming the leftovers from Frankenstein’s breakfast as well.

Then he sat and started — somehow — talking again. Truly, Urokai never ran out of steam.

“I’m going to start a revolution,” said Urokai fervently, staring into the flickering of Frankenstein’s fireplace. It was an eerie sight, watching the orange and yellow flames lick at Urokai’s form and chase his shadows away.

More like, it felt like like watching the broken link slot into the mechanism that would bring Ragnarök and the end of all things upon humanity.

“No,” said Frankenstein, “you’re going to get some sleep.”

“My mum didn’t raise a quitter,” Urokai hiccupped, eyelids drooping. Maybe the apocalypse would not come so soon, then.

“Even great minds need to take a break.”

Urokai didn’t seem to have heard him, but at the mention of a “great mind” he began nodding furiously.

ix - in which Frankenstein welcomes Urokai with open arms.

He had never been so happy to see Urokai. He thought he saw water on Urokai’s cheeks, and Urokai screamed and hit him on the cheek. It was no way to treat a sick man, Frankenstein wanted to say, but his voice refused to cooperate. Urokai cried out, sounding lost for words – and he dared to hit Frankenstein again, on the same cheek – before pulling himself up to his feet, dragging Frankenstein along with him.

Movement felt like grinding pain in his bones. The smell of chemicals dripped off him like toxic waste, plastering his wet clothes against his skin. Frankenstein tried to tell Urokai to not to breathe it, no matter what happened. But he couldn’t speak – his throat felt shackled, as if everything inside were completely inflamed. It wasn’t the case, he would be dead if that were true, but he didn’t even feel alive as it was. Everything felt so wrong, horribly, horribly wrong.

Urokai gasped (probably breathing in thirty different toxic chemicals, Frankenstein thought wearily, something like a soundless chuckle colouring the words). He dragged Frankenstein, so far that Frankenstein thought his bones might grind to dust – and then he felt the sweet taste of the mountainside air.

Urokai didn’t stop to rest. He pulled Frankenstein bodily to the car, heaved his dripping mess into the passenger side, and raced around the front to scramble into his own seat.

He dropped the keys, twice, and only barely managed to get the car started.

Then they were off, finally off. Finally getting away from that wretched company.

Finally going home.

“You fucking idiot,” Urokai was sobbing. The putter-putter of his old truck rang in Frankenstein’s ears, the eardrums still so clogged with water that it only sounded like a steady thud, thud in the back of his head. Like drums in the distance. “I can’t fucking believe you, Franken, you – you fucking idiot.”

And Frankenstein slept.

notes: how long is a post supposed to be before I have to put it under the cut…? lol. anyway, very self-indulgent AU. :/ Because I desperately wanted more Urokai than the manhwa gave. And I also desperately wanted to see an interaction between Frankenstein and Urokai that wasn’t “I hate you!” and “I hate you, too!” I can’t see them being very soft and close, but — grudgingly friends? I want that? But also… I really… really just like fish. I’d talk about my betta all day, but no one wants that.

A lot of this is short short short because exam cramming for tomorrow! But I just had so many ideas that I wanted to throw them down on paper. I never fleshed out anyone except Franken and Urokai but… exam!! exam!!

Last excerpt does not seem to belong to the story at all :D But it does, eventually! The fic does have some heavier plot down the line that isn’t all about beautiful mermen and their handsome human caretaker. And maybe there will be love in the air. Lol.

… Nevertheless, I’ve found the newest object of my focus and dedication.
(+__+) mermaid AU, here I come.


rough one of Noblesse’s Frankenstein. The sketch took five minutes (I can finally make clear forms in only a little bit of time!!), but everything else took more than half an hour because I am inept with colours

How does colour?? work?? how did kwangsu lee make such pretty lighting before?? the old lighting style makes me cry, it is gorgeous