You may NOT* take this as IC information or use this to bait IC information.
*The only exception to this is the newspaper report from 2019.
CONTENT WARNINGS: Deadnaming, misgendering, transphobia, parental neglect, alludes to human experimentation, and mentions of death.
Big thanks to the Higglebottom family Co-Lead and favorite person in the whole wide world @ghcsted/Wind!! He was the biggest help by writing all the newspaper clippings, fixing all my spelling/grammar mistakes, and turning our vague ideas and thoughts into the cohesive story we now have and are happy to share with you all!
*The only exception to this is the newspaper report from 2019.
CONTENT WARNINGS: Deadnaming, misgendering, transphobia, parental neglect, alludes to human experimentation, and mentions of death.
Big thanks to the Higglebottom family Co-Lead and favorite person in the whole wide world @ghcsted/Wind!! He was the biggest help by writing all the newspaper clippings, fixing all my spelling/grammar mistakes, and turning our vague ideas and thoughts into the cohesive story we now have and are happy to share with you all!
This paper MAY NOT be taken ICly.
This paper is written in ENGLISH and can only be found as a physical copy in Scotland, as it was published in 1984 and is a Scottish newspaper with no online copies.
June 11th 1984
17p
████ J. HIGGLEBOTTOM IS BROUGHT INTO THE WORLD
by Linken Taylor
Freelance English Reporter
Freelance English Reporter
████ J. Higglebottom, newest daughter of the Higglebottom family, owners of HB Biomedical Industries, has just recently been born into the noble family! A truly groundbreaking discovery as the first blood child of Alasdair and Fiona Higglebottom was seen being held in her mother’s arms early yesterday morning.
You may be wondering why this is so groundbreaking and allow me to explain! All three of Alasdair and Fiona’s children before yesterday were all adopted with the eldest, William Matthews Higglebottom, being set to inherit his adoptive father’s company. However, this is all set to change with the newest child being one by blood, despite her gender. ████ is going to be the next CEO of HB Biomedical Industries: the first female in power of the place, when her dear old dad steps down.
Mrs Higglebottom kindly allowed one of our interns to interview her. She mentioned how “proud” she was of her daughter, saying “she’s going to be such a wonderful little girl, growing into a mature woman” much like herself. “I’m aiming to be very active in her development” was also said, before Mr Higglebottom swiftly took over the interview, guiding the conversation away from his daughter and wife. Talk about overprotectiveness!
This chapter MAY NOT be taken ICly.
CHAPTER ONE; The Bleak Reality of Success
Howling winds and bellowing thunder harmonize with the unheard wails of a neglected child. Loneliness enveloped him more often than his mother’s arms. Loneliness that passed far too quickly, often becoming more and more of a wish for me—feeling a longing to feel so alone once more. Bright lights and camera clicks, while nice and fulfilling at first, become far too migraine-inducing for them to ever last. The comfort of the dark, of the metaphor of being left where those lights cannot shine, was often my answer to the age-old question: What do you wish to do in the future?CHAPTER ONE; The Bleak Reality of Success
I, Graig Jeff Higglebottom, was brought into the world on June 9th, 1984 and unfortunately nurtured by Alasdair J. Higglebottom II and Fiona Carmichael-Higglebottom, the rulers of the beloved HB Biomedical Industries (HBBI). The Higglebottom’s didn’t have as much money as they’d want people to believe. Keeping reporters out of HBBI’s labs, paying off inspectors, and keeping up the image of a prestigious, influential CEO burned holes in my father’s pockets like wildfires. It was a horrid expense to keep up, but my father made the noble sacrifice of allowing his family to suffer for the sake of his fragile ego. Alasdair had an ego far too large to let anyone believe he was anything less than his own father. It’s pathetic.
Alasdair’s ego led his company down a horrific path, one I was born to inherit. One I left behind. One I threw into the dirt and spat on like it deserved. I spent 2 years at the School of Art Institute of Chicago before my father almost dragged me by the ear back overseas to Scotland to show me what I was really going to inherit. Sometimes when I close my eyes I can still remember the metallic walls, the cool cold air, prickling at my skin, my lunch from earlier spilled from my guts to the floor, and the acidic taste left behind on my tongue.
Behind the crystal clear glass and under blinding bright lights ███████ was there, plain as day. My ███████, ██████. I hadn't seen ███ in years, not after the fight with dad at least. They fought a lot, and pretended it wasn’t about me, as if I couldn’t hear their screams echo throughout the far too big house. As if I wasn’t in the room over hearing about how a girl could take the place ██ deserved. How ██ deserved to inherit the family as the eldest ███. I hated ███; I wanted ███ dead, but not like this. Limp, weak, and pale; ██ just laid there, hooked to tubes and beeping machines: the only things keeping ███ alive.
███ face was covered in █████ █████, an ugly ████████ █████ ████████ leaking out of them. Rings and rings of █████ ███ ████ covered ███ arms, sparking me to remember the lesson I’d had in school—the day of finding ███, ironically enough—about the █████ █████. ███ face was flushed an unhealthy red under the luminescent lighting, sweat slick against ███ skin and breathing far too shallow to be healthy. Previously lively eyes—though often full of hatred—were glazed over; those icy blues now nothing more than a murky gray. It was like seeing a husk of a person. Someone who ought to be dead, yet was stuck suffering through an agonizing existence.
What was the purpose? Why was ██ being kept alive in such a state? What was there to gain from this torture?
My ears rang, drowning out every word that dripped from my fathers lips. I didn’t care what he had to say, what excuses or explanations he had for this. I didn't want this as my future, as my life. I’d always suspected that things were going on behind the scenes of my father’s research, I truly did. But nothing like this. Never like this. Things like this are the stuff of nightmares. I feel sick to my stomach simply writing about it; the memories of the state ███████ was in aren’t leaving my mind. I’m going to take a breather. Screw this the****** bullsh*t, this isn’t helping me ‘heal’ at all.
I just need a new start someplace to escape the microscope I’ve been put under, escape my father, escape HHBI. I’m desperate for some sort of solace. Will I ever be free from the cursed chains put upon me by my wretched excuse for a father? For a mother?
It’s funny. I’m writing this as though my story is finished. But do you know what’s funnier? I’m writing this like it’s going to be published one day, but it isn’t. It never f*cking is, and I’ll make sure of it. I’m taking this to my grave and to whatever afterlife may be waiting after my probable untimely death.
This paper MAY NOT be taken ICly.
This paper is written in ENGLISH and though it was written in 2002, there are no physical or online copies. This paper was never published, and this is the only record of it. It exists here purely for LORE REASONS ALONE.
September 13th 2002
£1
████ J. HIGGLEBOTTOM IN ███████?!
by Emilia Winchester
Television News Reporter
Television News Reporter
Recent sightings — or rather, lack thereof — of ████ J. Higglebottom led our budding reporters to seek out the young heir of Alasdair J. Higglebottom II. After weeks of trying to catch Mr. Higglebottom, he eventually let it slip that our favorite member of the esteemed family had moved to ███████, of all places!
Our readers, you may be wondering: why? And to that question, we, unfortunately, do not have any answers for you. Some of our more caught-up readers have sent in theories, theories of college, perhaps? University studies, or finding international connections for the family business. A few readers who are more into conspiracy have suggested more out-of-the-box theories. These include, but are not limited to, being ████ ███ ████ ███ ██████, sent to ███████ in order to be ████████████ ██ and even more dastardly fates!
Perhaps this is all linked to the recent report from the ███, wherein the results were held back for ███ █████ after inspection? After all, nobody knows the full truth of what goes on behind the closed doors of HB Biomedical Industries.
This chapter MAY NOT be taken ICly.
CHAPTER TWO; A Well-Intentioned Catastrophe
The following is a transcript.
CHAPTER TWO; A Well-Intentioned Catastrophe
The following is a transcript.
Date: 09/06/2019
Location: ██████████, ████████
GH = Graig J. Higglebottom
AH =
[Begin Transcript: 00:00:47]
GH: Alasdair...
AH: ████… What’s with the smile? Are you that happy to see your old man?
GH: Shut up and tell me where my things are so I can leave.
AH: You come all this way and won’t even say more than a few words to me, ████.
GH: It’s Graig now, actually.
AH: Out of all the names you could have chosen… I’m astonished how you can continue to disappoint me more and more.
GH: I didn’t come here to chat. I want to get my stuff and leave.
AH: Why the rush? Here, have a glass of whiskey with your old man.
GH: If I have a glass, will you tell me where my things are?
AH: Can’t say no to a drink either? If I were a fool, I’d believe you were actually my child. Too bad that b*tch of a woman I made the mistake of marrying—
GH: You can get drunk and whine about mam on your own time, Alasdair. I just want my stuff back.
AH: Women always stick together it seems…
GH: Looks like I’m going to find my stuff on my own then.
AH: Sit down and stop being so sensitive, ████.
GH: No. I didn’t come here to be treated like this. I’ve spent my whole life taking these verbal lashings from you and I’m f*cking sick of it! From college, to Kenzo, and even my diagnosis—you’ve done nothing but—but control and criticize every little thing I do! Am I not enough? Is anything I do just not enough for you that you have to constantly berate me like I'm nothing but a burden?
AH: Sit down. We can talk like adults instead of throwing a bloody tantrum. I’m too busy keeping these reporters on a tight leash, and out of the mess you made of yourself and this family, to play babysitter with you.
GH: Mess I made? You made this mess on your own! And I’m sick of you telling me what to do! I went to war because the second I do something that makes me happy, you cut me off like I never existed! So I’m leaving your miserable life for good! Now where the hell is my stuff?
AH: Maybe if you just stayed in your place and played your part, that wouldn't have happened. Ever thought of that? I have been far too easy on you, easier than my father ever was. The standards I set for you are so clear cut and simple! I even let you run off to ███████ with that boy! Obviously trusting you to stay there was my mistake as you have only gotten worse.
GH: Worse? Dad, I've been like this for my entire life and you know that. We both do. If we didn’t then there's no way you would have put me in ███ ████ ███████.
AH: You act as if it was all my fault, as if you didn't take ███ all on your own. You’re lucky you didn’t die from that. I should’ve just made you a ███ ███ like ███████ and █████. At least then you would have done something useful for this family for once.
GH: For once? Have I not done everything you wanted from me? Been on my best behavior since day one? Tell me I’m wrong, tell me I haven't been the perfect heir to this godforsaken company since I was brought into this miserable world and raised by the most pathetic, lousy, good for nothing, father. Being born a Higglebottom is the worst thing that could ever happen to a person and I pray you never curse anyone with this f*cking sh*tstained name again.
AH: This family has been in shambles since the second you were born. You are a disgrace, you hear me? A disgrace to the good Higglebottom name. Ever since you were brought into this life, you’ve acted as nothing but a curse. A stain upon my shoe. I’ve spent my precious time fixing the mess you’ve created, keeping those bloodthirsty reporters from running my hard work into the ground. Do you hear me, ████? Do you hear me? You are worth nothing. Nothing. You never amounted to anything; simply a bastard child with no place being blessed with such a noble name. You’ve gone on to dishonor us. You are no daughter or son of mine. You are nothing but an ungrateful, pathetic, leech.
GH: …
AH: …
GH: Noted..
AH: What's with that smile—
[End Transcript: 03:48:54]
This paper MAY be taken ICly with valid reason.
This paper is written in ENGLISH, but would be able to be found and translated online. You may only take this ICly for, as stated above, VALID REASON that has been approved of by the family leads.
December 25th 2019
£2.43
THE HIGGLEBOTTOMS REACH THEIR ROCK BOTTOM
by Archibald Jeremy Longbottom
Political Scottish Reporter
Political Scottish Reporter
The Higglebottoms were a notable, rising family that grew in popularity in its little town of Coldstream, Scotland. It is most notable for its quick rise and fall in the biomedical industry and Alasdair J. Higglebottom II’s descent into madness after some personal family issues. After his wife, Fiona Carmichael-Higglebottom, cheated on him again, giving birth to another bastard child, and his youngest daughter transitioned into a man during his time studying in the U.S.
The Higglebottoms have been on their last legs for a while now; with half-explained scandals, the adopted children of the couple going missing one by one, and finally the eventual closing down of HB Biomedical Industries (HBBI). What was the straw that broke the camel's back?
Paired with the above and the frankly terrifying deterioration of Mr. Higglebottom’s mental state, the company honestly had it coming. Another HSE report came back; the final report, as we’ve recently found out, and the results on it are quite honestly disturbing.
Take the “Total Number of Accidents” during the final month of observation, totaling up to a whopping 35. In the span of a month. That isn’t even including the number of fatal accidents which, during the month was 2, but the cumulative total, over all of the inspections across the 38 years of HBBI, came to 96, which averages to around 2 deaths per year, and those are only the deaths observed and/or reported by the HSE.
Facing millions of pounds in lawsuits from the families of worker’s lives, families who were told that their loved ones simply “lost their way home” after a long, fulfilling day of work, now finding out that no, they did not lose their way home, but instead died to due the still unseen working conditions within the HBBI offices and laboratories.
Unseen and, unfortunately, never to be seen, as just last night the main and only building housing HBBI was mysteriously burned to the ground. Alasdair J. Higglebottom was, coincidentally, found wandering the streets with a container of gasoline in his hand, an empty matchbox in his pocket, and the keys to HBBI attached to his belt loop. I don’t know about you, but I think Mr. Higglebottom might’ve burned down the only remaining evidence of his, and his families, crimes.
Luckily for us, he has been charged with arson and tampering with evidence. Personal files found in his study have been seized, though most — as reported by some of our interns — are blacked out and unusable. Yet another ‘coincidence’ in Mr. Higglebottom’s life at the moment, as it seems.
Do you believe they’re all coincidences? Coincidences… Do you think Alasdair J. Higglebottom II is innocent?
Notes: The lore is subject to change and be updated as the Higglebottoms grow and their story calls for it.
Again big thanks to Wind! This would not exist to the quality it’s currently in without his help! He’s the best co-lead and an even better friend. ILYSM Wind!
Again big thanks to Wind! This would not exist to the quality it’s currently in without his help! He’s the best co-lead and an even better friend. ILYSM Wind!
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