“I think it’s fantastic, but I’m just not that old. Star Trek may be 50, but I’m 33… and I lie very well, don’t I? But, to be here for the Beyond premiere and these signings and everything else, it means the world to me.” -Nichelle Nichols
get to know me [3/5] animated movies ≡ alice in wonderland
If I had a world of my own, everything would be nonsense. Nothing would be what it is because everything would be what it isn’t. And contrary-wise; what it is it wouldn’t be, and what it wouldn’t be, it would. You see?
Me:And that annoying shrinking thing in the Meltokio Sewers. And the Lightning Temple. Oh, ugh, and running back and forth in the Water Temple. That goddamn Blue Wind Princess I can never remember the pattern for. The sliding puzzles in the Ice Temple AND Welgaia, going back and forth to light the lanterns in the Fire Temple, the frustrating floor puzzles in Rodyle's ranch...
do you have any team little britain headcanons? :)
They pride themselves on having some of the most ridiculous looking weaponry in Los Santos; Jeremy finding Gavin increasingly elaborate golden guns and Gavin gifting Jeremy with items customised in his signature eyesore combination of purple and orange.
When Jeremy first dyes his hair he is expecting the relentless teasing he gets from most of the crew, but Gavin loves it. He does constantly badger Jeremy to change it to different colours despite Jeremy’s insistence to keep it green, once promising to do it himself when Jeremy sleeps, though threatening to hold Gavin down and shave off his precious hair quickly puts an end to that.
Gavin knows people. Knows just how to set them off, to distract or annoy or amuse them, can play most anyone like his own personal puppets, the FAHC included. While Gavin is generally heavy on the compliments when he’s getting what he wants, always pleased to receive the various odd gifts bestowed upon him by his crew-mates, he spurs their efforts as often as he coos at them; scoffing at one of Michael’s more lacklustre explosions, turning his nose up in disgust when Ryan drops a bloody head at his feet, mocks Geoff’s less impressive attempts at bribery. It’s all in fun, all part of the game, open manipulation so clear everyone can see it, yet they still play along; it let’s Michael talk smack and show off, let’s Ryan sink into something playfully dark, elegant words drenched in blood, sends Geoff off looking for more elaborate apology presents, rising as always to a challenge. Jeremy though, Jeremy always does his best the first time around, always pushing himself more than anyone else could push him, and trying to please Gavin is no exception. In return he only gets the praise, gets Gavin’s blinding smiles and stolen trinkets, gets the gushing compliments without working through any of the venom.
Jeremy’s obsession with nudging Gavin off high places in games translates to his FAHC self relentlessly pulling out that ‘saved-your-life’ shit kids love; suddenly pushing Gavin when he’s close to some edge only to grab his shirt and jerk him back to safety. It’s a misery, never failing to leave Gavin screeching in fear and send Jeremy into helpless peals of laughter. There’s no real risk, Jeremy always careful to be sure Gavin’s not actually as close to the edge as it feels like when he’s falling, and Jeremy is more than strong enough to hold his weight if something went wrong, but Gavin still wails about callous attempts on his life.
When Gavin started bringing Jeremy along on jobs he introduced him to every contact with a different, increasingly ridiculous name. It started an odd sort of stale-mate, Jeremy trying to stay stoic and threatening, the contact’s eyes bulging as they decide whether they can question the absurdity or not, and Gavin remaining utterly calm like there’s nothing remotely unusual about the name Squodge Heimer.
When Geoff staggers out one morning to find Jeremy straining to carry an overfilled dufflebag out of the armoury and towards the front door, Gavin bouncing along in front of him, holding a giant rainbow piñata and a sloshing jerrycan, talking a mile a minute about terminal velocity, he turns off his phone and goes back to bed. The next time he emerges it sounds like every siren in Los Santos is blaring, there’s a burnt out plane sitting in the street, a whole city block is liberally coated in glitter and the air smells strangely like peppermint.