Eddie Gluskin [PA]

IDENTIFICATION LEGAL NAME: Edward “Eddie” Gluskin ALIAS: “The Groom” AGE: Late 30's- Early 40's HEIGHT: 6'11 STATUS: ☐ Prime Asset ⸻ PSYCHOLOGICAL PROFILE Primary Personality: Mr. Gluskin is an enigma. We do not get much out of him when we ask him directly about his past. He says he grew up in a ‘Daisy Bell’ sort of household. We have since stopped allowing him to have contact with female staff after a number of incidents. Despite his requests. Eddie is a charming sort of man. He's multifaceted. He goes from a doting gentleman, the very picture of a perfect future husband. He can sing. I've heard him. He sings well. He's got an odd amount of grace for a man so large. He is very much a prince charming type. Or at least, that's what he wants others to think. And then, on the turn of a dime, he is a raving, rambling lunatic. A paranoid, violent man. Screaming demeaning rhetoric about women. He cannot stand the idea of his perfect family ideal being challenged, and is so delusional, he cannot live in this reality. The doctor suggests we continue feeding these delusions. ⸻ PHYSICAL & MENTAL PROWESS Physical Capabilities: He is strong as an ox, and built like a truck. He is a broad shouldered man, with plenty of physical strength. And yet, somehow these hands can manage... more delicate work. And he has surprising dexterity, as well. He isn't fast, but he is flexible. Maneuverable. Mental Capabilities: He is manipulative. Incredibly so. He goes from saccharine, tooth rotting sweetness to an inconsolable, paranoid wreck. And yet, that sweet side is so appealing that it is difficult to hate him completely. You almost feel a strange sort of... pity? The rest of his ‘smarts’ are greatly overshadowed by his delusion. However he does seem to have a great grasp of practical physics for some reason. KNOWN SIDE EFFECTS Physical deterioration: -Blisters and hives, open and healing all at once. Covering the left side of the face and dotting the right. -Scar tissue from accidents with the carving knife and the latex treatments. Subdural hematoma of both eyes, (permanent burst blood vessel in sclera.) -Larynx and esophagus scarred from latex tubing and invasive procedures involving such things. Resulting in slurred speech and difficulties breathing. Mental deterioration: -Loss of awareness. The line between fantasy and reality is practically nonexistent. To the point that he believes he can actually create a cisgender woman from a biological male by performing a grotesquely rudimentary change operation. -Delusions of grandeur. As seen above, however to add onto this, his ego is now unchecked. Years of buildup led to a deeply unstable view of himself. He must be in control of those he deems as his ‘family’ In command, and the man of the house so to speak at all times, and believes himself to be the perfect gentleman. (Thusly, Eddie is irritated in the lack of interest from all potential partners.) -Paranoia. Being a hypocrite who judges others, Eddie is terrified of being judged. Those ‘women’ who oppose him are whores, with prying, swinish eyes. Everyone agrees with him that they are loose women. They agree with him, RIGHT? -Bipolar temperament and violent outbursts. Eddie has a tendency to have extreme reactions to minor transgressions. And will change his mood on the slightest hint of a rejection. He cannot be told no. And most times, even if you have seen his violent side, he will apologize for his ‘earlier vulgarity’ and go back to playing the doting lover. Trigger stimuli ( if applicable ): –Anything jammed down his throat, or otherwise forced inside of his body. –Repeated questions about his uncle or father. –Challenging his Delusions ⸻ BACKSTORY It's quite similar to his original backstory, except he genuinely grew up with the whole traditional values thing, and it wasn't something he picked up after the engine. Edward [expunged] Gluskin was born in the late 1910's. He was raised in a household with his mother, his father and uncle. He had siblings, but they all died in their younger years or infancy. His mother was reserved and completely docile. Complacent, and subdued with medications as was customary of the time. His uncle and father took advantage of him many times. They would go from physically aggressive to intimately so, and those rare occasions where his father would be sober and clear headed, he couldn't even look at the boy. So Eddie often stayed close to his mother. With her glassy eyed expression, she told him that marriage was "the best possible thing" that a young man could ever hope for. She instilled in him traditional values, and his father taught similar lessons... but of the darker kind. Be a gentleman. Yet, if she does not listen to you, a firm hand can put her right in her place. A good woman does whatever she is told. A good woman serves her husband dutifully. And if she cannot, it is customary to either correct her, or find other means. A woman who is not a wife or mother is either confused, or a blackened woman. Religion backed up these views. His experiences backed up these views. The man of the house: what he says goes! Always! Yet, a man has his own expectations. He did not want to be like his own father in the least. Eddie thought that being unlike him was being 'good'. (When really, it's the bare minimum.) The man of the house, so Eddie thought, is meant to be a provider. A protector. A guardian, and a leader. So obviously he is the master of the house. He DESERVES a meal waiting for him on the table. A clean house. Perhaps even a drink if he wishes it! As he got older, he watched the fashions change. From reserved and composed, to 'wild.' The roaring twenties. He was somewhat outraged. In olden days, a glimpse of stocking was looked on as something shocking... but now? GOD knows! Anything goes! Eddie was scrawny as a young boy, but in his teenage years, he began to bulk up considerably. In height, and stature. Eventually, even his father and uncle couldn't oppose him. Or hurt him anymore. They were frightened of the boy that they had once ruined, inside and out. It made Eddie feel... powerful. For the first time in his life, true control. He was not the best student. But he was not the worst, either. His family was not wealthy in the slightest, and so he was looked down upon in his younger years. But now, thanks to his strength and size, suddenly he had a few friends. Although, since he had to learn to mend his clothes and lengthen them when he was younger (his father swore they could not afford new ones, despite drinking like a fish.) He preferred his solitude in the Home Economics class, and was said to be an incredible tailor. (He was teased for this at first, but after a schoolyard brawl, nobody said anything.) This class was Eddie's favorite. Mostly girls. If it were his choice, it would be a required class for all women. Or even the extent of their high school education. Simple arithmetic and reading were what he had decided they needed to know. Anything else was excessive. He became enamored with one girl. And she invited him to a small birthday celebration. And after getting into an argument with his father and stealing some of the old man's pocket money, he purchased a present and showed up with high hopes to the gathering. "Eddie, I'm so glad you came! James, this is Eddie. From the Home EC class. You know, the one who fixed my blazer? Anyway. This is James, Eddie. We've been keeping company for a while." His blood boiled with rage. This... this ! She led him on the whole time! She said nothing about another man! And James had the NERVE. the GALL, to attempt to shake his hand. James said something about there being a watchdog, and that her dad was being a real wet blanket. From what Eddie could pick up on, James was trying to weasel out of the party with her for some heavy petting. Right. So that was the reason she invited him. She was the same as all the other broads, wasn't she? He was here to be a distraction. Of course. How could he compete with the football captain? Women are so shallow. Eddie made up some excuse, and walked out. Tossing the present, before spotting her family cat. She was always talking about that damn cat. Even a cat got more love than him. But at least it was satisfying when the meowing stopped. He graduated, supposedly unremarkable. No superlatives. Just a degree. Eddie couldn't even afford a yearbook. He went to a technical college in order to go into the tailoring trade. He was good at it, and it took his mind off other things. Namely, the suspicion that it wasn't an accident what happened to that girl who rejected him in junior year. And that it wasn't a pearl necklace alone that had strangled her in her bed. Although. She didn't own pearls. At least, she didn't know she did. She just never received the gift. Eddie also took more etiquette classes in trade school. He was also convinced to play football for the local college team. He did relatively well, all things considered. He graduated college. And was growing more and more wary. He was told that his time would come. But doesn't one usually meet their future wife in high school or college? He was getting antsy. This manifested in aggression and a lovesick sort of reputation. They called him Eddie-bear. Because like a stuffed toy, the only thing he seemed to be interested in was being coddled. He drifted from place to place. No work for a lone tailor. (He wasn't even particularly good at it.) He dated a lot. Person to person. But as soon as he got close, those damned sluts would flake on him! He was a good man, a high value gentleman! He could sing. He could dance! He finally began to find work, and then the stock market crash and the great depression hit. He had some decent savings, as he kept it all in cash underneath his flat's mattress thanks to his insecurities. And suddenly, he was very popular. Women that never talked to him before were begging for him to take them. But none of them really liked him. None of these girls actually cared. He could see it. Their little swinish eyes. Judging. Once the tragedy of the depression was over, so too was this attention. But Eddie had survived, if having to add a few extra holes on his belt loops. And when the war came around, he wanted to go. Eddie wanted to show that he was a high value man. Wanted to use his strength for something. Perhaps, perhaps there would be a beautiful young nurse waiting for him! But after the mental evaluation, he received some news that shattered even that hope. He was described as a “Potential Liability.” With his “Violent tendencies” and his “bipolar nature.” Plus, he had a latex allergy. He didn't know that. However, by some miracle, he was drafted regardless. He did not see much combat. However, they had him darning uniforms. Day in, and day out. One day came, where he had a massive mental break. The benzedrine and opiates they gave him to keep him going finally got to him. His brain went haywire. They were stranded, him and another group of soldiers. Being the tallest and strongest, they looked to him for protection. There was a drag show that night. As there often were in between firefights. He looked at the smallest one. Was that a man? Eddie wasn't sure. But the dress they were in was beautiful. Not ragged at all, not like the ones he was used to. He could almost imagine them in a wedding dress. Just a few things he would change. Like hemming a pair of slacks. A few cuts here, and here. Strip away everything... vulgar. Eddie called him away, once everyone had a few drinks of stolen gin. Said that he needed to fit the new uniform to the recruit. Private Anderson, he believed, was their name. In the middle of the woods, in an old shed nearby a cabin left to rot, he threw the man upon the table. It was just like sewing. A pair of trousers can become a skirt with a few choice cuts and loving stitches. All Anderson needed was a bit of adjustment. Eddie was patient. Eddie was true. ... “...Hold still, darling.” “...Darling? Gluskin, what the hell are you on?” “Just a bit tipsy. Tell me. Are you fond of children?” “Maybe one day. Why?” “You know. I've always wanted to be a father. Just imagine it...Close your eyes and think of them.” All manner of his already frail morality had splintered irreparably. “Think of our children.” Our. He made a mistake. But he raised the corps saber anyway, after lifting that skirt and taking off the wrapping of his beloved one. “Eddie, what the ? No, no, you get away from me! Give me my damn clothes back, you sick bastard!” CRUNCH. A scream. No matter. The blood is what REALLY worried him. “Darling...I really need you to bleed less.” He knew the fairer were more fragile, but if he was trying this hard, a little bit of mutual effort would go a long way! But the light of the gas lamp caught the hairs on the private's face as he screamed in agony and was silenced. She'd become so ugly. So ugly, so quickly! It got him all choked up. Before his face became like stone. He left the private there to rot. Nobody was any the wiser. After the war, he went back to his usual life. Honestly, he didn't want medals anymore. He was simply glad he'd finally had a revelation. His hands were tools of creation! To create beauty, and snatch it out of the jaws of the irreparable. After the war, a new status quo was established. To be married is an expectation now! He was a high value man! He really was now! His patience had paid off. So many housewives. So many traditional families. But where was HIS bride? Once again, EVERYONE else. Everyone else gets to have what he has always wanted. He went through the motions. Occasionally making another attempt at fashioning himself a bride. Eddie gave an effort at starting up a bridal shop. He created each dress and suit by hand. But despite the love he put into it, everyone was just too good for his work, weren't they? This world is full of oblivious men. Of whores. Where have all the good women gone? Already taken, aren't they? He had to just be unlucky. But his perfect bride, even if he had been with her, in one of his outbursts set off by the slightest thing, had likely been killed by his own hands. He wasn't sure how many failed attempts he'd gone through. But his obsession had started to consume him. Using the scraps of fabric left over from the suits he made, he had fashioned himself one. (Most companies never made anything in his size!) A vest. A bowtie. Now he looked the part, too. His hair, he always kept impeccably cut and gelled. His blue eyes he was proud of. He was a handsome, tall fellow, wasn't he? Then why does nobody want him! Eddie had no idea he was even being observed. For the most part. He had a few conversations with a detective. Honestly, he thought his little hobby had finally caught up with him. And it had. Just not in the way he thought. Suddenly, here he was. Doctors doing tests. Questions. Bright lights. Latex gloves constantly touching his face. They could see that he was breaking out. It pitched like mad, and it created blisters that oozed and wept. Angry red blisters, scabbing over, and bleeding. His lips cracked. One day, Eddie was strapped to a gurney. Were they going to execute him for his crimes of passion? But no. In front of him was a screen. A television, with a radio nearby. There was a doctor speaking to him! A special one. A man who claimed to be his friend. A friend. Eddie had never had one of those before. The man claimed to be a father. Not technically untrue? A husband. Formerly, anyway. Eddie spoke about everything and nothing. Proudly talking about his trade. His manners. His worldview. He didn't know nor care that the doctor wasn't truly agreeing or disagreeing. Eddie was then told that he was correct. That he had some unruly women in this facility that needed some correction. “Can you do that for me, my friend?” A sewing kit that fits like a saddlebag and a large battery were brought in. As well as a brand new electric carving knife. Eddie had been eying one of those for his... projects. It's so much quicker than a pair of pruning shears. So much more delicate than a table saw. And a chainsaw is far too noisy. A beautiful piece of machinery. An extension of his toolkit. “You've got a firm hand. And that spark. Show them what a delicate hand and some choice cuts and loving stitches can do. Protect your neighborhood. And make good, honest women out of the unruly.”