#and Robert snapping back with Well can YOU deliver on all your perfect plans? Are YOU gonna go out there and get your hands dirty?

[breitzbachbea]

Hmmmmmmmmmmm not to sound like most of my fandom mutuals, but someone put that blonde man on a leash.

[k-k-keroppi]

A wedding goes wrong right

I was thinking about that video where henry shields talks about what’s planned for season two, and he mentioned we see more personal bits of the characters, and I thought how cool would it be if max and sandra got married and then almost immediately thought Goes Wrong Wedding!! so I wrote it :) I’m not the greatest fic writer but whatever. Sorry for the cheesy ending and also (spoiler not spoiler) the reason is because he can’t remember what room he’s in, but I couldn’t work that in. enjoy. 

“Are you nervous?” Annie and Ness sat in the room dressed in beautiful blue dresses, smiling as their friend adjusted her veil.  “I think so.”  “You think so?” Annie asked, and Sandra looked round at them.  “I just feel bubbly, it’s a lot.”  Ness got up from the cream sofa and perched next to Sandra, looking at her in the mirror. “Oh, of course it’s a lot, but it’s a good thing!” Annie joined them on Sandra’s other side, putting a careful hand on her shoulder. “Yeah, soon you’ll be Mrs Bennett, and all this stress will be worth it.” Sandra smiled. “Oh, I know. I can’t believe I’m marrying Max.” She turned to look at them both. “And thank you, for being the most wonderful bridesmaids.” The women embraced, and as they separated Sandra dabbed at her eyes carefully. “Oh I can’t ruin my makeup.” she said, and Annie handed her a tissue.  “I wouldn’t worry.” she said. “You could go down the isle in full zombie FX and Max wouldn’t care.” Sandra smiled, and looked round as someone knocked at the door. “Who is it?” Two women’s voices replied.  “Only us!” “Oh it’s mum and auntie Diana.” Sandra jumped up and opened the door to a flurry of kisses. “Hi mum, hi auntie.” “Hello darling, oh you look beautiful.” “Thank you mum.”  Diane and her sister sat down, and the women talked and drank champagne, and prepared for the big event. 

“Chris, can you do my bow tie?”  “Of course Max.” The men stood facing each other, surrounded by Dennis, who was perched on the bed, and Trevor, who was sat uncomfortably on a footstool. Robert was at the little table, working on something on a laptop.  “Not long left. How’re you feeling? There.” Max admired his bowtie in the mirror. “I’m doing okay actually. I thought I’d be more nervous.” “You’ll probably be nervous just as walk out, and forget all your vows and things.” Everyone but Robert turned to look at Dennis, and he shrugged helpfully. “It’s what always happens to me.” Max looked in the mirror and straightened his tie again, grinning.  “Max, mate,” said Trevor, shifting uncomfortably in his seat. “Do we all have to be dressed so formal? Only-” “Trevor, we’ve talked about this.” said Chris sharply. ““Your jeans are not appropriate for the wedding.” “Well it’s Max’s wedding Chris, not yours.” Max shook his head. “Sorry Trevor, I want everything to be perfect, for Sandra.” Chris noted the worry that crossed Max’s face. “Max, Sandra will be happy no matter what, so long as she’s marrying you. That’s all that matters, the-” “Ah ha!” Chris glared over his shoulder. “Robert, I was talking.”  Robert waved his hand. “Doesn’t matter. I finally finished it, I am officially ordained.”  Dennis gasped inaudibly. “Your honor.”  “No Dennis, it doesn’t work like that. And what do you men you’re ordained, I’m officiating, Max asked me weeks ago.” “Oh well, since I’ve gone to the trouble of filling out the form-” “The same form I already filled out! You aren’t-” “Guys!” shouted Max, a little louder than he intended, and everyone turned to look at him. “I wanted you both to do it, cause I look up to you both so much. I just didn’t want it to turn into a competition.” Chris and Robert looked a little ashamed.  “We’re sorry Max.” said Chris. “We’ll do our best.” Max smiled again, then looked around. “Where’s Jon?” “Oh I’m sure he’ll be back in a moment, he only went to the loo.” said Robert. “And to get me some fags.” Chris glared at Trevor. “I’m not gonna smoke them in the ceremony.” he said defensively.  “He’s probably chatting up a bridesmaid.” supplied Dennis. “What, Annie and Ness?” asked Max, and Dennis looked confused.  “What about Sandra’s sisters?” “She doesn’t have any sisters.” said Robert, and Dennis’ frown deepened. “Well wherever he is, I’m sure he’ll turn up.” reassured Chris, ending the discussion.  “Yeah, you’re right.”

“Okay, how’re we doing?” asked Annie, slipping back into her old stage manager role.  “Flowers are fixed, but I’m still having trouble with this confetti canon.” said Trevor, thumping the offending instrument with the heel of his hand. “I think I’m gonna have to take it apart.” Fine, just don’t let Sandra see.” Trevor carried the tube away, and Sandra walked in, on the phone. “Oh I hope she gets better soon, of course I understand. See you soon.” She turned to Annie. “My niece is sick, she can’t be the flower girl!” Annie snapped her fingers. “Don’t worry, I’ve got an idea.” “Thank you.” sighed Sandra in relief, holding Annie’s hand gratefully.  “Oh, Max, you’d better go.” she said, and Sandra dashed away, holding her skirt carefully off the ground. “Anything I can do to help Annie?” asked Chris, appearing behind her. “Yes actually, the cake’s being delivered in a minute, could you go and look after it? I don’t trust Nancy.” “Of course.” Chris left in the direction of the car park.  “Oh, Chris!” she called after him, and he turned around. “You haven’t seen Jon, have you?” Chris shook his head and left the hall, leaving Annie to talk to Max. “How’re you doing, okay?” “Yeah, I’m fine. You seen Sandra?” “You can’t see her, it’s bad luck!” “Oh yeah.” Max fiddled nervously with his cufflinks, and Annie looked at him pityingly. “Are you sure you’re okay? Do you want to sit down for a moment?” Max nodded, and Annie put an arm round him. “Dennis!” she called as he crossed the hall. “Could you do me a favour and and queue up the bridal music on the laptop, it’s the first one on there.” she said, pointing to a computer in the corner. Dennis gave a thumbs up. “Oh, and I need another favour-”

“Oh my god.” said Ness, looking at the cake. “What happened?” “I know.” said Chris. “He said there were roadworks on the main route, so he had to take a residential road and there were speed bumps. It doesn’t look good, does it. Still, the wedding planner said that pillar should hold until they cut it.” “Annie doesn’t trust that Nancy.” said Ness darkly.  “I’ve heard.” Chris looked at Ness. “You haven’t seen Jon, have you?” Ness looked surprised. “I thought he was with you?” “No, he’s just vanished. No-one seems to know.” “I’m sure he’s fine.” said Ness. “I’m just off to the loo.” she said, and trotted away, in her heels with one last grimace at the cake. Chris wandered back into the hall. “What?” he murmured as he passed a supply cupboard, listening to the muffled thumps from inside. Opening the door, he looked in confusion at Annie and Trevor, wedged amongst the buckets and brooms, Annie holding the confetti canon against her chest, Trevor attempting to ram a large spring into it. They both froze and looked at him. “Alright Chris.” said Trevor, and Chris just shut the door and left them to it.  “Ah, Chris,” said Robert, approaching with a stack of cue cards in him hand. “Which bits of the ceremony do you want to do? I’m personally very keen on ‘If anyone here today has any reason that these two should not be joined, under God, then please-’” “Well, I think we should just take in turns.” interrupted Chris deliberately. “I’ll speak, then you speak, and we’ll just go like that.” “Yes, that sounds sensible. Me then you then me then you, and so on.” Chris looked at his tersely. “Yes, me then you.” “Me then you, that’s right.” They glared at each other politely until Dennis interrupted. “Chris, Chris.” “What is it Dennis?” Dennis looked stricken. “Annie wanted me to queue up the music, but I don’t know which track it is.” “Well what did she say?” “She said the first one, but there are two..” “Well it’ll be the top one Dennis, the very first one.” Dennis nodded and ran back to the computer.  “We should get ready then.” “Mm.” Chris and Robert made their way to the front o the hall, Annie and Trevor tumbled out of the cupboard, and Max met Chris and Robert at the lectern.  “In they come.” said Chris, pointing to the guests filing. Max straightened his tie.  “Okay.” “Good luck.” said Robert, putting his hand on his shoulder. 

Max stood smartly at the front of the hall, looking expectantly down the isle. The large doors opened, and Dennis skipped awkwardly down the isle, tossing flowers from a tiny wicker basket. Once he reached Max he solemnly handed him the basket, which Chris took and hastily threw behind him. Hesitantly, as though waiting for someone to tell him not to, Dennis made his way to the computer. Everyone turned their gaze back to the door, and Sandra and her father crossed the threshold as everyone rose. Dennis hastily pressed a button on the computer, and the speakers crackled to life.  “No, I’m just saying, I’m just saying-” came Robert’s slurred voice over the speakers, and Robert froze.  “No-one wants to hear about Denise, Robert, it’s Max’s stag do.” came Chris’ reply, and Robert mimed cutting his throat. Dennis pressed another button, and the audio sped ahead. “I just love her so much.” Max’s voice was teary, and he glared at Dennis with panicked eyes. Sandra and her dad stood a quarter way down the isle, looking around in confusion.  “I know mate.” Trevor’s voice was wobbly over the speakers. “Dennis, why are you recording?” “Oh, am I recording?” Annie rushed over and hit another button, and the recording was replaced by Vivaldi. She hurried back and took her position behind Sandra, and the party continued down the isle. Sandra’s dad handed Sandra over to Max, and took his seat, smiling.  “Ladies and gentlemen-” began Chris and Robert together. “Ladie- Ladies an-”. Chris sighed. “Robert.” he said, waving him on. Robert nodded grandly.  “Ladies and gentlemen, we are gathered here today to celebrate the...” Robert trailed off in apprehension, and everyone followed his gaze to the back corner, where Jonathon was trying to prize the window open. Ness put her hand on Annie’s arm and snuck round the outside of the room to the window. Robert continued. “To celebrate the union of Sandra Wilkinson and Max Bennett. I believe you’ve prepared-” “The safety catch is stuck, you’ll just have to squeeze through.” “Vows! I believe you’ve prepared vows.” “Yes.” Sandra turned to Max. “Max, I’m so happy to be marrying you.” Jon grunted from the window. “I think you’ll have to speak up.” advised Chris quietly, and Sandra nodded. The vows were said loudly, over the sounds of Ness pulling Jon through a gap in the window, and by the end there was barely a dry eye in the room.  “That was lovely.” said Robert. “Now, do you Sandra, take Max to be your lawfully wedded husband?” “I do.” “Good. And do you Max, take Sandra to be your lawfully wedded wife?” “I do.” “Excellent. So unless anyone has a reason that they should not be married...” The room was quiet, save for Jon and Ness straining at the window. “Then by the power vested in me, I pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss the bride.” As Max and Sandra embraced, Robert turned to Chris. “Thank you for letting me have it Chris. It means a lot.” “I know. You did it very well actually. Maybe I should find a reason to cast you as a vicar?” “Or let me direct-” “Or cast you as a vicar.” “Ah!” With a panicked shout, Jon finally fell through the window and collapsed on top of Ness. They hastily stood up and applauded their friends with wide smiles on their faces. Trevor readied the confetti canon, and as Max and Sandra turned to walk down the isle he switched, intending to shower the couple in tiny paper hearts. As he turned it on, the spring launched out and flew across the room. Sandra shrieked, and the spring struck Jon squarely in the chest, sending him stumbling back against the window. Under his weight, the safety catch released, and the window swung wide open, and Jon toppled out onto the gravel. This his weight gone, the window swung shut again, clicking into place just as Jon struggled upright. He looked forlornly through the glass. Ness stepped forward to re-open the window, and as the safety catch re-engaged Jon just sighed despairingly. Max and Sandra carried on, at Ness’s insistence, and the room followed them into the other room.

They all sat at their correct tables, Max and Sandra at the front, and as Ness and Jon crept in and took their seat Chris stood up. “Before all the main speeches start, I’d just like to say a little something.” he said. “Max and Sandra, it’s been a privilege to know and work with both of you. I remember your first kiss, on the set of Peter Pan, and your proposal in a Christmas Carol. It’s nice to know that, despite the disasters, and the lawsuits, and the many, many hospitalizations, that at least one good thing has come from Cornley. I wish you both a long a happy life.” “Thank you Chris.” smiled Sandra. The rest of the speeches were equally sweet, both families wanting to wish the pair well. Robert’s speech was a little odd, but the sentiment was sweet, and it was appreciated. By the end, the atmosphere was very warm, and it continued all through dinner. Once the plates were cleared away, everyone was talking good naturedly amongst themselves. “Oh, we need to do the cake!” said Max, and they got up. Everyone followed them to the little round table, and Chris and Ness shared a worried look.  “Oh.” Sandra looked at the cake, that was leaning dangerously. “Well, it’ll still taste just as good.. And it’s the symbolism more than anything, isn’t it, the two of us working together, becoming a team...” As Sandra spoke, the cake slid slowly off the bottom layer.  “Ah!” Max leant forward and caught the cake, squishing icing on his forearms. “I’ve got the cake.” he said, a little confused as to what to do with it. Sandra took the fork from the table and scooped a bit of cake from the pile in Max’s hands. She fed it to Max, and took a bit herself, smiling. “Mm, you were right.” she said, as Chris helped Max scoop the cake onto a plate. “This one is nicer.” Max grinned.  “Okay,” he said, turning to everyone else. “I need to get cleaned up, and you you need to do... things.. So I’ll see you at the reception!”

The reception was equal parts glamourous and exciting. The sophisticated decorations glittered under the bright party lights, and everyone had a wonderful time. The first dance was beautiful, and went off without a hitch. There was a little incident later with 5 6 7 8, when Trevor and Chris collided quite violently, and later in the evening when the karaoke started things began to get interesting. Annie and Trevor sang a fairly drunk rendition of Back in Black, Robert sang a very drunk version of Feel like a woman, and Dennis sang The holly and the ivy, which confused everyone. Sandra and Max joined in with Summer loving, prompting everyone else to sing too. When everyone finally left to sleep, everyone was drunk and happy.  “Come on Mrs Bennett.” said Max, and he lifted Sandra in his arms.  “Come on Mr Wilkinson- oh!” she giggled. “That’s not how that goes” Max carried up the stairs to their room, stepping over Dennis who was curled in the corner, and they made their way to married life. 

[silwenworld]

Summary:   Ten years ago, Agent Robert Gold had lost almost everything, and now the only thing keeping him moving is a promise given a long time ago. He won't rest till he gets all those responsible. But is the current case really connected or has he finally cracked? How does Lacey French, the woman from the casino that seems not to have ever existed, fit in all of this? The clock is ticking, old enemies are done with hiding, and when he can't even trust the MI6, can he trust Lacey while knowing he shouldn't? (A James Bond AU/Mashup which basically means that there are some Bond easter eggs but it doesn't follow the storyline of any movie/book) CHAPTER 9: Complications  Warning breaking fingers during Jones’ interrogation  [AO3] [First Chapter] 

The wind was howling in the small cracks of the window, strong enough to cause the slight rocking of the boat. If it hadn't already, then it surely would start to rain soon. But it didn't matter to Lacey, not as she sat curled on the bed, the hard, wooden board digging in her bare shoulders. The movement of the boat and sounds of the wind, so soothing only hours ago, were now making her sick.

 Or so she had thought.

 It was good to blame it on the sea, not her own actions. Lacey hugged herself close trying not to look to her right where her phone stared at her from where she had thrown it against the wall. She felt sick. Even after vomiting two times, she could still feel the lump in her throat. 

"Good girl. You did well." 

Fresh tears gathered in her eyes, and she sniffed. She had never felt so dirty as when she had made that phone call. At first, she had tried to scrub her hands with soup, but it had done nothing. No change.

“He's on his way to Jones. He'll take him on his boat and move your way."

An ugly sob escaped her mouth. She tried to stop it but only ended with her coughing and crying harder.

“I've changed the coordinates. Did what you asked.”

She hit her head on the board hard, screaming with frustration. The tears kept flowing from her eyes, clogging her nose, making it difficult to breathe. 

     “Thank you, Lacey. It was a pleasure.”

      “What about our deal?”

      “You're free.”

If she was then why didn't she feel so?!

In her pain and frustration, she swung her hand to the side, anticipating to hit something - anything  - but what she didn't count on was a soft thud of a small object falling to the ground. 

Lacey sniffed again and swept her hand across her eyes in an attempt to get rid of some tears and snot then looked over the bed. It took her a moment to localise the thing that had fallen off the table, but when she did, her eyes winded. There, almost on the other side of the cabin, laid a phone - Gold's phone. 

Slowly, she stood up from the bed and approached it on wobbly legs. She didn't pick it up on sight but stared at it for over a minute as if the device would have bitten her. Finally, she crouched and with ragged breath and shaky hand, picked the phone up. It didn't burn her. She fully expected it to do so, irrational as it was, but nothing had happened. Lacey switched it on. The generic wallpaper stared and her from the screen, the flying seagulls over the sea mocking her. She didn't know what to expect, but somehow it was feating - seeing something more personal would have been a lot more disturbing. With a held breath, she swept her finger over the screen. It unlocked without asking for a password. Did he leave it like that on purpose?

Her finger shaking, she dialled the contact number form the top of the list. *

A lone fish jumped out of the water, splashing his face with some droplets. Gold grimaced as he wiped at his cheek, taking the opportunity to look at his watch. Two hours. It wouldn't be long now. Jones had already conducted his business, and soon he would be at the perfect spot for Gold to take him in. Robert grimaced. It would be ideal if he could stop the transaction in the first place, but maybe if it all went according to his plan, he would be able to safe those children nevertheless.

One could hope.

Unconsciously, his hand travelled to the inner pocket of his jacket. His jaw clenched as he focused on the old photograph that he had pulled out of his wallet beforehand. Gold had never dwelled on why this particular photo had been the one that he had settled on carrying with him. This one was old, his boy still a teenager with no worries towards the world, taken when he still had let his father call him by his given name and not his second one. Somehow, by looking at his son's smiley face, sometimes, he was able to forget that this had been the same person who he had let down years later.

Robert ran his thumb down the outline of his boy's cheek before hiding the photograph back in its safe place against his chest.

Not long now. He would never get Bae back, but at least he could make sure the situation wouldn't repeat itself.

Gold didn't know for how long he was sitting back in his small boat - long enough for his thought to drift back to Lacey and their parting, but when he finally spotted Jones, lurking around on his own, he smirked. He couldn't think about Lacey anymore. He got too distracted by her. It had been almost to the point of wanting to walk away from all of this before he had caught himself.

But it had hurt. That look on her face when he had said his goodbyes. But how could he make her understand how important it all was for him? He had a promise to keep, he couldn't break it. Not even for Lacey. This way, they both could get what they wanted - She, her freedom and he the peace he had been looking for.

He had wanted to tell her everything but at the same time not wanted to burden her any more than necessary. They had connected somehow, and letting her go had been one thing he was sure had been right. This way, he at least could keep somebody important to him safe. It didn't matter how much it hurt. He didn't want to see her dead.

His son would be the only casualty in all of this. He wouldn't let the history repeat itself.

Lacey. Emma. Henry. - He would keep all of them safe.

For Baylen sake.

Gold took a deep breath in and climbed over the board, then cautiously, not making any unnecessary noise and hidden in the shadows, crept towards Jones. The man stood by the mast in the front, his shoulder resting against it casually as he tried in vain make a flame to light his cigarette. Gold didn't like the feeling that the old fishing boat was giving him.

"Bloody lighter..." Jones murmured, the fag dangling from his mouth as he again tried to make the fire. Amotion it the corner of his vision made him frown, but as soon as he tried to turn around, someone put a hold on his throat from the rare, choking him. He tried to resist, kick out, but then a cloth came over his mouth and nose. A characteristic smell of chloroform invaded his nostrils, and soon he slumped in his captor's arms.

It began to rain.

*

"I must say I wasn't easy to take hold of you, Mr Jones."

Killian blinked. His eyes felt heavy, and it was difficult to think straight. Cobwebs surrounded his mind, his tongue felt like wood and dirt and the image before his eyes was hazy at best. Someone was sitting in front of him, rocking from side to side. It took Jones a moment to see that it wasn't the person who was moving, but the small motorboat they were both currently in.

"Who the hell are you?" He snarled and spat to the side. He tried to move but found his hands and legs bound.

"All you need to know is that I'm a guy with some questions which you will better answer.

"Or what?"

"Or," The man got closer to him with a nasty smirk, "You and I will get closer acquainted with one another."

The droplets of rain fell on the both of them, the boat rocked with the wind, and Jones swallowed. The man wasn't a big person, in fact, Killian was sure he would have been taller than him when standing up, but somehow he knew he shouldn't push his luck with him.

"I'm just a sailor - "

The man laughed, the sound sending a chill down Killian's spine.

"You and I both know, dearie that's as far from the truth as it can be. Now," the man sat on the broadside, leaning down to his face. "I would gladly just kill you, people like you don't deserve to live, but I made a deal not to. I can, however, deliver you in less than pristine condition. Is that clear?"

"Cristal," he muttered, his heart bitting more and more rapidly. Who the hell was this guy?

"Splendid. The first question: who are the kids?"

An easy one.

"Orphans."

"What was Nothingam's role in it?"

A little bit trickier, but it would not do to lie to that man. Jones

"He staged the attacks. I looked for those who nobody would claim for."

"What do they want with them?"

Oh, shit.

"I don't know," a quick answer. A little bit too quick.

The man lunged at him and with one swift motion, got a hold of his right thumb and twisted. Jones hollowed.

"Are you sure, dearie?"

"I don't know! I swear!"

Another twist and snap. This time to his index finger.

"I've never asked!" The man made a move to his next finger, and Jones twisted in his bonds. "There was a guy!"

Gold stopped, his ears perking. Well, that was interesting.

"Go on then, dearie. Don't keep me waiting."

*

Emma was still in shock. That was the only explanation to why she was moving and not freaking out.

First seeing Henry for the first time since his birth - her little boy, not so little anymore. Then seeing her father for the first time in as much time. David Nolan looked older. There were marks on his face that hadn't been there before and silver strands in his hair. He had also looked like someone who had left the hospital sooner than he should have but didn't give a damn about it. Emma guessed that those genes she had to get after him. To both of their credit, none of them had cried, but it was close - maybe they would later when all of this mess would die down, and they wouldn't have to worry about the lurking assassins. For now, a hug would have to do.

"Are you ready, ladies and gentlemen?" M smoothed out her jacket, looking briefly at everybody.

Emma nodded in response as did everybody else. Aside from her the rest of the team consisted of Jefferson, her father and a young woman who others had called R. An unusual choice of a code name, but considering the leader calling herself M not unexpected. The woman had also quickly abandoned the usage of codenames and simply introducing herself as Ruby to M's displeasure.  Emma wasn't really sure what to think of the whole group.

"Let the show begin then."

Regina made her way towards the door, not looking at the others. She didn't have to - her agents knew what they were supposed to do, and the Swan woman seemed to be a quick learner. Either that or she just had experience with guns and extreme situations. Regina didn't know why, but she suspected the later.

The whole MI6 headquarters had been abandoned, no living soul in sight, but Regina had known better. Andromeda Blue was at her office, waiting for a massage that her plan had succeeded.

No such luck.

They barged in onto the last floor, and as soon as the elevator door had opened, two agents drew their guns in their direction. They were too slow. Only one managed to remove his gun from the holster before they had fallen dead onto the floor - two matching bullet holes in their foreheads.

The silencers did their job perfectly, and nobody had heard the shots - the soft thud of the bodies to the ground the only indication that anything had transpired. It occurred quickly enough that the traitors didn't manage to alert anybody else.

Regina's steps didn't even falter. Her eyes only on the door at the end of the corridor, she moved past the fallen bodies without glancing at either of them. It didn't matter who they had been. Not now. She heard another soft shot and a thud of a body falling down and then her hands were on the handles, twisting them and throwing the door open.

The surprise and instant paleness that occurred on Blue's face was worth every waisted hour of listening to her ranting about Gold. The woman sat behind the desk but as soon as Regina entered, she bolted upright, almost backing into the wall behind her.

"Not who you were expecting, isn't it?" Regina smirked.

"I wouldn't recommend it, ma'am," said Nolan next to her right, pointing his gun straight at Blue's head as he noticed her moving her hand in the direction of the closet. The woman stopped in her movements gulping, and Regina smile winded.

"What is the meaning of this?"

"Please, don't act like you don't know," Regina was enjoying it. The way the other woman was sweating and looking nervously from her to the guns trained in her direction.

"This is treason. I'll have your heads for this."

Somewhere over her shoulder, Jefferson chuckled.

"Off with the head," he murmured.

"Cut the crap, Blue," R interrupted. "We know you gave the orders to kill M."

"I don't -"

"You're such a bad liar that it's a miracle you got this job," Regina cut in, stalking in Blue's direction. The woman tried to back away, but there was nowhere else to go. "Now, let's get down to business. Miss Swan?"

Regina seated herself comfortably in Blue's swivelling chair, not letting the woman out of her sight as Emma pulled her laptop out of her bag. Jefferson and Nolan took Blue by the elbows and roughly pushed her into the nearest seat.

"You don't have any evidence," the woman said, trying for an intimidating look but failing miserably.

"You mean besides your men outside the door, who are dead by the way?" Regina smiled. "But of course we do."

And just like that, Emma played the recording of the videocall.

"Now," Regina had stopped smiling, her eyes become cold as steal as she leaned forward, piercing Blue with her glare as the video ended. "Let's start at the beginning and, for your own good, better not leave anything out."

Blue visibly gulped.

*

"So, you want me to believe that you saw this mysterious guy only once, have never spoken to him."

Well, when he put it like that, Jones didn't blame the man for doubting him.

"He was young, light-brown hair," he gritted out, almost bitting down on his tongue as pain flared from him mangled fingers.

"And how exactly you think he was in any way connected to all of this?"

"His eyes felt ... off." Even to his ears, it sounded idiotic.

Gold narrowed his gaze, looking doubtful.

"His eyes," he repeated after Jones.

The man cringed.

"They... - Look, you will think me crazy, but ... They looked older. Older than the rest of him."

The wind got stronger, howling, throwing the salty water over the sides of the boat. A chill ran down Gold's spine, seeping into his bones, that had nothing to do with the weather. Something nagged at his mind, something he didn't want to be true at all.

"Those eyes... What colour were they?"

"Um... I don't know, mate? Brown, I think? It's not like I'm looking into the other guys' eyes deeply and remembering their colour."

Without warning, Gold took hold of one of Jones' broken fingers and twisted, making the man holler in pain.

"Not much of information is it, dearie?" He gritted out. That would teach the man not to get too cheeky.

"Please! He was at the casino, the owner clearly knew him and seemed to be afraid of him. I heard them talking."

Gold loosened his grip but didn't let go of Jones just yet.

"Go on."

Jones panted, looking around wildly in panic. Gold followed his gaze, wondering what could have the man so spooked. There was nothing in sight, aside from the small waves forming on the surface. They were alone.

"They will kill me," Jones murmured, gasping.

"I may too. I'm very close to doing just that, so start talking."

Jones swallowed then brought his broken hands closer to his body. He seemed to fight with his instincts, a small trickle of sweat ran down his brow.

"They said something about a fountain of youth and another guy," he started. "Greek name - I've never heard it again, I don't remember, I swear!" he screamed when Gold made a move towards him. It was difficult not to smirk - the man was even easier to break than he had thought. At the same time, the things he had said made Gold's blood run cold. It sounded too much like what had been going on those ten years ago to be a coincidence.

"What else?"

Jones licked his lips. The rain plastered his hair to his forehead, some covering his eyes.

"Something about tests. That kid joked about having a younger body. It didn't make any sense!"

Jones was still rambling, but Gold couldn't hear any of it. The chances that that kid was who he thought he was were close to none. He had stabbed that man - saw as life left his eyes before he had to flee.

Impossible.

And yet...

"The children," he interrupted Jones frantic speech how they had sent Lacey after him to learn how much had he heard. "Where are you taking them?"

Jones shook his head from side to side.

"N-No."

Gold pulled the gun from the holster hidden under his jacket, slowly, deliberately to make sure that Jones saw what he was doing. He focused his gaze on the weapon, not looking at the other man.

"I'll count to three then will shot your ear off for a start."

"I can't!"

"One," Gold flicked the safety off.

"Please -"

"Two," he racked the slide with a swift motion aiming the pistol at the man's head.

"Stop!"

"Thr - "

"All right! It's -"

Jones had never finished his sentence as a single bullet hit him right in the heart. Gold swang abruptly around to see two motorboats getting closer to him. He had just enough time to duck before the series of machine fire hit the boat. Some of the bullets hit Jones' now dead body, drilling holes into it, making it jump then slump further down the planks.

Gold crawled to the engine, splinters flying over his head.

Damn.

He didn't count on them finding him so quickly. In fact, he was hoping he would be able to get away before the henchmen would get a chance to arrive - this way Lacey would be free for fulfilling her part and he would get away with information from Jones.

No such luck it seemed.

A bullet grazed his shoulder, ripping the suit and shirt, making him wince, but it didn't stop him. The wound was superficial, not severe enough to even think about it, especially in the current situation. Gold finally made it to the engine and with one swift motion started it. Without looking back, he brought the motorboat around, splashing the water in his wake.

The chase was on.

*

The room was so quiet one could hear the soft ticking of the clock hidden away in one of the drawers. No one spoke a word, not after what they all had heard.

Even Jefferson, the man who probably saw the most twisted fings out of all of them was silent. 

"How could you," Ruby whispered, her eyes huge, tears glistening.

"Agent," Regina warned even of she felt like strangling the woman in front of her herself. R didn't listen.

"They were children! And for what? Lab experiments?!"

"Agent!"

"She's right, M," Nolan said, his grip on the gun a lot tighter as he trained it at Blue. "The leader of the board... You make me sick."

"I- I didn't know... Not a first - "

"It didn't stop you from continuing, though," Regina shut the woman up before she could tell one thing too much, that would earn her a bullet to the head. She took a deep breath in. She needed to calm down. 

"So, this man - Pantazis - you believe he found a recipe for immortality. He got you on board, pulled some strings and gave you a position of power to keep the law off his hair. How convenient."

"I just wanted my sister back, he promised  - "

"If you try to justify your actions, I will not stop any of my agents from shooting you any longer," she snapped.

"Why children?" It was the first time Emma Swan had spoken since Blue finished her tale.

"There is an innocence to them - pure heart if you will," Blue wasn't looking at any of them, her fingers fidgeting with the loose end of her blouse. "It was the easiest path - pulling out this innocence and synthesising the serum. That was what keeps you young."

"Well, it didn't work, though, did it? Your boss wouldn't be still trying if it did."

"Oh, it did. Once. Partly."

Regina's eyes winded, her hands reflexly squeezed the armrest.

"Who."

"I can't -"

"You crossed the line when you couldn't. So answer the question."

"You thought him dead, but he's not. He got reborn."

"I didn't ask about the romanticised version, Andromeda. The name, now."

Silence. Then finally a name.

"Malcolm Gold."

Regina's thoughts came to a sudden halt.

*

At first, he had thought it had been a considerable downside to the whole situation - when ultimately he was supposed to gain immortality, he was now stuck in the body of a seventeen-year-old.

Not the end he had imagined when he had woken up with a syringe still plugged into his chest, fur sure, but soon he had learned it had been an even better outcome. He hadn't been getting older - not at first at least. A success, he had thought, having a mind of an adult, but a body of youngling. But then, only two years ago, he had spotted that the change hadn't been permanent. 

He didn't know why it began to reverse. Maybe it was because he had been dead when the procedure had taken place - being stabbed by his own son had been an inconvenience, but he had doubted it. 

Malcolm Gold, or Peter Panovich as he was now known, smirked under his nose, thinking how much Robert would hate to learn that ultimately what had saved his father was his son's death. Malcolm didn't even remember the young man's name. 

The plan had been simple. Stupid as his son had always been, he had thought it had all been because of him, but nothing more ridiculous. Malcolm had set the pieces on board and watched them move precisely as he had wanted.

Even now, this fool Pantazis didn't know that he was playing right into his hand, because even all through the experiments Gold had found out one thing - the key ingredient was a blood relation, and Pantazis didn't have any of it. Not yet, anyway. Without it, the serum was even less stable and longlasting.

All the experiments were giving Malcolm time, though. Time to find someone else than Robert's kid. And paradoxically, Robbo's not so unexpected mending could very well turn out to be the best outcome he could have ever imagined.

He would find his great-grandson.

And his own son would soon tell him where to find the boy.

He just had to wait a little bit longer...

... But only a little bit.

*

"Miss Swan, stand down!"

"Emma!"

"Swan, let go of her!"

"I'll ask you one question, and pray to whatever god you believe in before answering," Emma snarled, crashing Blue's windpipe against the wall, mindless to the hands on her shoulder trying to pull her away. "Did you know they would kill Baylen Neal Gold?"

"It wasn't me - "

Emma pushed harder, crashing the woman's windpipe,  making her choke.

"Did you or didn't you?!"

"I-I did..."

Emma saw red. She didn't hesitate even for a moment and punched, not seeing where her fists had landed. Once. Twice. Then again. She didn't care.

All this pain.

All those tears.

All those lies.

For what?!

She swang her arm again, but this time it didn't connect. She whipped her head around, angry at whoever dared to stop her only to meet her father's steely gaze. 

"Emma."

That was it. The sound of her name was enough for the whole fight to drain away from her, and she slumped only to be caught in her father's strong arms.  She wasn't a baby anymore, but the feel of being held close brought tears to her eyes. 

David Nolan though wasn't looking down at his daughter, but at the woman beaten in front of him. His own urge to shoot her fought with the cold reason inside of him. 

"Thank you - " Blue whispered, glancing up at him.

"Shut up," he spat. 

Blue turned her head towards Regina, blood running down her chin from her split lip.

"M - "

"Another question, Blue," she cut in, not letting the woman finish, her voice cold as steel. "Is Malcolm Gold working with Pantazis?"

Blue gulped.

"Yes."

"Is this project the same one as ten years ago?"

A nod.

"Is Gold in danger?"

"I don't - "

"Answer the damn question, Blue or I'll let miss Swan have her way with you again."

"Yes."

"What do they want from him?"

"There were rumours... about a boy."

Regina stiffened, and from the corner of her eye, she could see Emma doing just the same. A cold hand grabbed her heart and squeezed, making her shudder. Could she mean...?

It was beginning to be even harder to not kill the beaten-up woman in front of her.

The sudden sound of the ringtone pierced the silence in the office like a sharp knife. 

*

I won't make it.

Not the best conclusion as yet another volley of bullets swished next to his ear, making him duck. Gold grimaced as the sharp turn he had to make with the helm had sent a spike of pain from his wounded shoulder. The other guys were persistent and getting closer to him with every minute, making him wonder about what engine they were using to gain such speed.

His probable defeat didn't mean that he had to get down easily.

Gold took another sharp turn. If he wasn't mistaken somewhere around here, there should be some very sharp rocks under the surface. 

Point one: don't get caught on any of them.

Point two: make at least one of the enemy's boats get caught on them instead.

Easy.

He glanced over his shoulder. The other boats were too close to his likening. 

*

Jefferson chuckled embarrassedly as every head turned towards the source, brows drawing together in confusion mixed with displeasure.

"Forgot to silence it," he said, fishing it out of his pocket, not minding the glare M was throwing his way, but his movements stilled as soon as he saw the caller's ID. He looked up from the screen. "It's Gold."

Not waiting for the instructions, he accepted the call, bringing the phone to his ear as soon as his finger swept across the screen.

"Gold, it's about time - "

"I'm not him, although I wish he would be the one calling you," the voice on the other side was clearly feminine. It was hoarse as if the person had been crying. Jefferson frowned.

"Who's this?" He could feel the others watching him closely, but he refused to lose focus. It was difficult to think straight after all the revelations, and it seemed there still wasn't an end to them.

"He told me you would help me."

Jefferson's mind raced. Why this woman had Gold's phone? Don't mind that - where was Gold?

"Well, if he said so, but I need to know who you are first," he said calmly instead.

Silence. Then a deep breath.

"My name's Belle Avonlea, but you may know me as Lacey French."

It was his turn to become speechless. The woman from the casino?

"Where is agent Gold?"

A shuddering breath. The rustle of material. The sound of bare feet on the wooden floor.

"Lac- Belle?"

"They will kill him."

Not the answer he was hoping to get.

"All right - OK, well, not OK, but it's going to be - "

"No, it's all my fault."

He tightened his hold on the phone, willing his mind to work faster. The woman sounded distressed, but he didn't like one a bit of what she was saying so far.

"Listen, don't do anything stupid - "

"I already did," she cut in. M was opening her mouth to speak, but he waved her off. There was no time. "They have probably already gotten to him," the woman on the phone added in almost a broken whisper.

M didn't waste any time, focusing back on Blue who luckily for her didn't move an inch from her spot on the floor. Time was running out.

"Where are they taking him? If you lie, I'll know," she added, seeing as the woman opened her mouth.

"There is an island," she started after only a second of hesitation.

*

Gold killed the engine just before the perturbing peak of the rock, stoping the motorboat parallel to it so it couldn't be seen by his pursuers. Not that they minded their surroundings much - it seemed they had eyes only for him.

He waited, his head low and only when he was sure at least one of the boats wouldn't be able to brake before the rocks, he started the engine back, going to full speed in a matter of seconds.

Gold could hear the side of his boat scraping against the rock, but he couldn't wait to see if any damage had been done. The turbine was fine, and that had to be enough, he didn't care about the paint job. 

A bullet whistled next to his left ear just as he turned around, making him jerk to the side. 

Shit. That one was close.

He could feel something wet trickling down his earlobe - be that blood or sweat, it didn't matter. 

Just then a loud explosion could be heard just behind him, and then the night was lighted by the flames which heat he could feel on his back.

Gold smirked as over his shoulder he saw the second motorboat sharply manoeuvring around so not to share the fate of the first one. The smirk turned into a grimace as his pursuers managed to resume their chaise.

Not only that but soon they aligned their motorboat with his and two of them jumped over.

Gold blocked the helm so the motorboat wouldn't stop and turned around just in time to block the punch aimed at his face. Even in the dark, he could see the outline of another two people keeping their distance beside the three that currently tried to neutralise him. He managed to block another hit and catch a leg aimed at his midsection. Twisting himself, he jabbed his elbow hard at his attacker's sternum only then letting go of the leg, unbalancing his opponent, then quickly palm heeld the other one's jaw hard.

The planks were slippery from the rain, making it both easier and harder to fight. It didn't help, though, that there was close to no room to move around or that the rain was still dripping in his eyes. So it came with no surprise whatsoever when finally one of the other guys managed to land a solid hit to Gold's face.

Gold struck blindly behind him, satisfied when his fist met flesh, but unable to enjoy his small triumph when his attacker overbalanced and fell overboard as suddenly something sharp pierced his right arm.

Blood rushed to his head as numbness spread from the spot, and he glanced down, not fully comprehending what he was seeing. There, on his right side, was a syringe deeply plunged into his deltoid muscle. 

An empty syringe.

He staggered, black spots dancing before his eyes, his vision darkening by the seconds.  He broke into sweats, the two people before him becoming four then six. He couldn't feel his arm, it was difficult to breathe, and before he knew it, his right leg gave up under him. His calves hit the side of the boat and tumbled over it.

Gold was unconscious before his head hit the water surface. He didn't feel it as it broke into his nostrils and parted lips, filling his lungs, nor when he sunk lower and lower into the deep, cold sea.

I'm sorry.

[robloxfan222]

Holmes and Watson (2018)

Prior to 2018, the last decade showed two iterations of Sir Arthur Conan Doyle’s iconic Sherlock Holmes. The first pair: Two feature length movies, starring Robert Downey Junior (The Shaggy Dog, 2006) and Jude Law (Sky Captain and the World of Tomorrow, 2004) in original period pieces with new mysteries for the eccentric duo to encounter.

The second iteration was the BBC serial Sherlock starring Benedict Cumberbatch (Zoolander 2, 2016) and Martin Freeman (Swinging with the Finkels, 2011) in a contemporary reimagining of the detectives, set in modern-day Great Britain.

Both imaginings of the iconic Sherlock Holmes were met with varying levels of approval, as they separately boasted elements, both borrowed and original, to enhance and continue the spirit of Doyle’s series.

Yet, neither was perfect.

The 2008/2011 films left little to the imagination.

The immigration away from text and onto the silver screen left behind traditional elements favoured by detective stories. The translation left the audience struggling to keep up in both iterations, as the clues left behind were either completely irrelevant or far beyond the perceptive capabilities of even the brightest minds.

Thus, they have developed a distinct “style” - similar to The Matrix’s bullet time sequence - where the world slows down and the audience is graced with the mind of Holmes, as he meticulously analyses his surroundings for clues or a way out of a sticky situation. Admittedly, the scenes are well composited and entertaining, yet when this occurs for the 10th time, and it is revealed that Sherlock Holmes’s forgotten sister, who has been locked underground for several decades whilst secretly orchestrating elaborate crimes set out to take down her brother, it becomes quite fantastical and the thread of a detective story is lost.

So, where does that leave us?

In a world where it’s either Downey junior noticing a smudge of coal that is hidden out of focus to incriminate the killer, or it’s Cumberbatch partaking in an overarching plot so fantastical it puts shows like Game of Thrones to shame with how incredulous it is.

There was a void. And when there is darkness, light must also exist.

Etan Cohen, a man lost in darkness, became determined to labour aneath the stars to bring back the day. With the zest of deranged chemist, the man first discovered the potential of William Ferrell in Get Hard (2015), satisfied with the charm of Ferrell, Cohen abandoned Kevin Hart in pursuit of a partner that would match, and satiate, the sexually charged actor.

It was only after 3 arduous years, that Cohen finally forged in his hands, the guiding light.

A light that transformed the silver screen to a golden sheet - illuminating screens across the world. This film, in our mortal tongue, is known as “Holmes and Watson” (2018).

Under the guise of a blockheaded mystery-comedy starring Will Ferrell and John C Reilly, the film remains largely misunderstood by modern audiences. The story, composition and characters, in my eyes, are exceptional. And upon reading the harsh criticisms of the film, coupled with the disappointed murmurs in the cinema as the film drew to an end, all i could think of was John 20:15.

Jesus said to her, "Woman, why are you weeping? Whom are you seeking?" Supposing him to be the gardener, she said to him, "Sir, if you have carried him away, tell me where you have laid him, and I will take him away."

Where we are Mary, an audience so infatuated with superficial expectations of what a masterpiece film looks like - a misinterpretation of messiah. Yet, it is no fault to have faith - fault lies where an audience cannot dismiss a preconceived perception of expectation when the truth lies before their eyes.

So wipe your eyes, and beliefs of what makes a “good” movie. Sit down and watch this film.

Cohen, in his pursuits of greatness, realised that modern audiences would struggle to interpret the film upon first watching. The satirical comedy surpasses its predecessors with ease, utilising “punchline humour” on steroids to deliver an entertaining story alongside relevant social commentary. The sophisticated story beats and comedic timing of the film only exacerbate the message of love, companionship and big brain thinking.

Following the footsteps of previous films/shows, the film takes creative license in how it portrays Doyle’s detective. Still a genius, Sherlock is shown as a flawed character, he is vain and unfeeling - whilst Watson, his sidekick, struggles to earn the feelings of recognition he so desires. The characters and the plot are so intertwined, they could not exist without the other.

The characters are distinct, not just by appearance but also by personality. Each with their own clear goals and motivations, with an iconic protagonist and a villain I would compare with Heath Ledger’s depiction of The Joker. As usual, Holmes and Watson are depicted as two halves of a functioning human being, and their reliance on one another is heartwarming. Inspector Lestrade is readily abused, but has a hot wife. The love interest for Watson is a (((woman))) doctor, and motivates him to seek self worth even in the shadow of Sherlock. Whilst Sherlock falls for a woman with the mental capacity of a 4 year old, a clever use of juxtaposition to highlight the desire of man to fulfil the gaps within their own psyche.

Of course, Holmes is nothing without Moriarty. In the film, Moriarty is shown to use a doppelganger in his stead, yet the crime is orchestrated by his daughter, who also happens to be Mrs Hudson. Drawing a clever connection between the two, Cohen capitalises upon this link to deliver a satisfying reveal, and twist, in the third act that delights audiences. Her character is so well developed, in fact, that I found myself rooting for her once or twice! Of course, her true motivation is hinted at once or twice before it is revealed. She is seen being abused by the detectives (earning her ire), and is caught sleeping with Mark Twain, Albert Einstein and Harry Houdini (just to name a few) characters that foreshadow her future plan of murdering the queen.

The characters within the film are iconic, I am almost certain they will go down in history as blueprints for future filmmakers to use. The sophistication of their personality - and dialogue - reflect a bright future for cinema if these threads are pursued.

The premise is simple - the pair of detectives have several days to catch a mysterious figure threatening to kill the queen. There is no larger conspiracy, there is no unrevealed force. It is, at the very core, a game between two people far more intelligent than you and I.

Thus, the film does not become marred by inconsequential plot points or convoluted additions to its core. By remaining focused, Holmes and Watson capitalises on its simple plot with what really made the original stories so well loved: the mystery.

Clues are littered throughout the film for audiences to pick up on. Instead of holding the hand of watchers, Cohen realises that true intellects would be able to solve the film before its over. Several clever examples include: A jagged tattoo can only mean a one-handed tattoo artist knows the secret identity of Moriarty, or perhaps that red velvet cake is Watson’s favourite and only the housekeeper knows how to make it his favourite way which makes her the daughter of Moriarty and thus the threat to the queen.

If you couldn't pick up these cues, you shouldn’t bother reproducing, your intelligence (or lack of) doesn’t need to be continued in the human race.

So how does the film ascend from a good detective story to a masterpiece film?

The execution.

The execution of this film is flawless. The humourous interactions between characters and film elements remain relevant in driving the plot of the film forwards. Elements such as the aforementioned “slow-motion” scenes, unexpected musical cues and social commentary - each excellent in their own right - serve a purpose of driving the plot forwards.

Critiquing the cliche “detectives slow motion,” Cohen utilises the scenes as a comedic way of enhancing the human elements behind Holmes. Its usage at the beginning of the film, where Holmes, armed with a baseball bat, is hunting a mosquito that has rested upon a glass case full of killer bees gives the audience its first experience with the technique. The scene uses many mathematical equations whizzing past a freeze-framed scene, coupled with an narration of Holmes’ thought process, before snapping into reality and him quietly splatting the insect. Yet, Cohen realises that this is just stupid. The glass promptly breaks, forcing the pair to deal with the consequences. In this moment, the audience realises that Holmes is just human - he also makes mistakes. This leads to a doubt, a doubt that contradicts the arrogant attitude of the protagonist as well as the preconceived notion of a Sherlock Holmes that is always correct.

Catharsis in film can be expressed in many ways. Tarantino alters aspect ratio, Michael Bay utilises his iconic “stand up with the camera swinging around you” shot, and Cohen inserts a musical number into his film. The musical number focuses on Sherlock Holmes and his discovery of love. It is a beautiful duet, that serves as a turning point: where Holmes first feels feelings outside of his usual depression. Did i mention both characters are depressed? Yeah, the film opens with Watson trying to kill himself, but instead he forms an unhealthy attachment to Holmes. Holmes is addicted to drugs, and remains depressive without another “big mystery” (I suspect it is a metaphor for opioids).

The social commentary in this film is relevant to the modern day and age. If there is one thing I fear about this film, is that these plot points may no longer be relevant in the very near future. How can anyone ignore this film’s plea’s for Donald Trump's impeachment, or women doctors, or even rampant substance abuse issues? Seriously, there are far too many of these scenes for me to mention - you have to watch the film yourself.

Thus, ends my praise for the film. There are no negatives. Go watch this film yourself. Sit down with an open mind, and appreciate the twist on the detective genre. Laugh, cry and enjoy yourself. You’re gazing upon a messiah in disguise. 10/10.

[planckstorytime]

William Shakespeare’s Jojo’s Bizarre Adventure

https://planckstorytime.wordpress.com/2017/11/07/william-shakepeares-jojos-bizarre-adventure/

The Tragedie of Jojo and Dio

Dramatis Personae:

Jojo

Dio

Jojo’s Father

Erina

Wang Chan

Robert E. O. Speedwagon

A Dog

Guards

Thugs

Speedwagon’s Gang

 SCENE ONE

 JOJO’S FATHER:

Hark now, a carriage comes round yonder bend

To our illustrious mansion, breaking day

And with it my prestigious ward, a Son!

Entrusted by my creditor and hero

Who rescued my son Jojo and myself

From certain doom beneath a wrecked wagon.

His name is Dio, gentlemanly raised

And brought before us to live in our home.

Here, Jojo, come greet your brother and friend!

  Dio steps from the carriage, posing dramatically and casting a menacing glare at the mansion.  Enter Jojo.

 JOJO

Before now, I thought I was quite alone,

The sole boy aged as I am, in youth’s throes,

But Providence has blessed our household twice

Such that I may enjoy fraternity.

[Jojo’s dog comes running up]

My truest friend, this hound, greets you as well!

[Dio kicks the dog right in its side, sending it flying and whimpering away]

Be you mad?  Why attack my treasured dog?

  Dio adjusts his collar and looks dismissively.

 DIO

The brute surprised me, causing me alarm.

In my astonishment, I kicked the beast.

It is only natural to react

With force when safeguarding one’s personal effects,

Including one’s own life and dignity.

[Aside] Truthfully, I do abhor these creatures!

  JOJO’S FATHER

I’m certain Dio meant no harm to him.

Egress with me, sons.  Supper’s on the stove.

  JOJO

As you wish, father.  Dio, please excuse me;

I meant no disrespect or suspicion.

With this misfortune past us, I’m quite certain,

We’ll presently become fast friends, you and I.

  Jojo extends his hand, but Dio scoffs at him.  He passes by him into the house; Exeunt All.

  SCENE TWO

 Erina, Jojo’s paramour, is skipping down a countryside path. Dio and a few of his goons stand under a neighboring tree, looking for trouble.

 ERINA

My darling Jojo, how I love thee:

Thine eyes doth glitter with a radiance

Surpassing beams of sunlight on spring days,

And thy form manly gives me cause to swoon

As if I was a bleating baby lamb.

 Your virtue certainly eclipses all,

And marketh thee as one blessed by fate,

With numinous worlds borne aloft by you

Sustained by your immensely strong shoulders.

No man can capture my heart but you, dear!

  THUG #1

Be that Ms. Erina?

  THUG #2

                               It would seem so.

 DIO

She’s Jojo’s dearest pet, no?  I’ll meet her

Here, shadowed by the fading sunset red

And plant upon her parted lips a mark

Of passion and shame that symbolizes

My envy and my hate for Jojo’s soul,

That pampered bastard, vain and ignorant

Of earthly cruelties.  Puppet, come to me!

[Dio forcibly yanks Erina toward him and plants a kiss on her mouth.  She eventually pulls away, gagging, and falls to the dirt.]

Had you imagined Jojo to be first

To break the seal of your sweet, tender lips?

But I’m afraid you were mistaken, dear.

Your first kiss was not with your noble love –

For it was with me, Dio!

  THUGS #1 & 2

                               What a swell guy!

  ERINA

You fiend!  Defilement foul as this won’t stand!

Before you can blink, Jojo shall ride in

To safeguard me, reclaim my honor, fight,

And avenge the offence of thou three swain!

  Exit Erina.  Dio and the Thugs laugh.  Dio returns to his nearby home.  Exeunt the Thugs.  He sits down to read a book.  Enter Jojo, bursting through the front door and delivering an uppercut to Dio’s chin.

 JOJO

Thou scoundrel, Dio!  How dare thee behave

In such a cruel, brazen manner, cur!

In Erina’s name, I shall pommel thee

Until you cry, fall beaten to your knees,

And beg for mercy, which I shall not grant!

  The two continue their fisticuffs, knocking over furnishings.  Eventually, a splatter of Dio’s blood impacts a strange stone mask mounted on the wall and provokes some sort of reaction.  Spider-like tendrils emerge from the back of the mask. Dio notices this, and attempts to flee.

 DIO

[Aside] Jojo’s battle prowess vexes my mind!

It would be unwise to challenge that fool

While his passionate wrath doth burn brightly.

I must act with subtlety and cunning.  

Downfall I bring yet to your house, Jojo!

Mark my words!  Till that time comes, however

I shall bite my tongue and bide my time here.

But down, thoughts!  To the shadows I return!

  Exeunt all.  Curtain falls.  Intermission. “Roundabout” by Yes plays.

 SCENE THREE

 Years have passed.  Jojo and Dio are now adults.  Jojo is walking down a foreboding alleyway – the infamous “Ogre Street”.

 JOJO

My father’s health has suffered as of late

And only worsened since that serpent fraud,

My brother Dio, started treating him

With alien drugs from locales unknown.

A sample I procured from Dio’s hand

And carry here with me to Oni Street,

A den for robbers, vagabonds, and thieves,

 Where I might locate and interrogate

Some crude apothecary with no charge

To keep his business straight, nor clientele

Protected by frail oaths of privacy.

Alas!  I observe several ruffians

Converging on my person!  Have at thee!

 Enter Robert E. O. Speedwagon and several members of his gang, bearing bladed weapons.

  SPEEDWAGON

You look to be a fortunate young man

Caught in a less than fortunate event.

My boys and I are ruthless highwaymen

Who’ll slice your neck as quickly as your purse.

To arms, lads!  Pick his corpse clean of doubloons!

Jojo fends off several of them, catching one’s blade in mid-air.

 JOJO

I haven’t time to quarrel with you lot;

My father lies on death’s door, suffering

At the hands of a toxic medicine

Provided by that treasonous, vile hound

Who postures himself as a brother mine.

Assault me or assist me; I care not.

For my quest shall not be deterred by you

Nor Dio, nor the earth, sun, moon, or stars.

  SPEEDWAGON

Hold, fellows.  We have here a model man

Whose bravery demands our reverence.

My name is Robert E. O. Speedwagon,

Reputed outlaw and bewitching scamp.

My gang recalls an alchemist corrupt

Who deals in odious toxins similar

To that which you possess in your hands.

Allow me to serve as your shepherd true

Conducting your path towards the devil’s lair.

Embark we on an orphic odyssey

To breach the gates of Hell and steal back life!

  Exeunt All.

 SCENE FOUR

 The Joestar Manor, night.  Dio stumbles in, drunken and disheveled.  As he steps into the parlor, he finds Jojo there, ready to confront him.

 JOJO

Thy plan is foiled, Dio.  Give it up.

I know thy treachery and wicked plot.

  DIO

Perhaps you know, but of what use is it?

I, of course, have no motive to slay kin,

Be they of common blood or otherwise.

My father true passed from some nameless germ

That poisoned his old humours.  It seems now

Your father suffers an affliction same.

The heavens are indeed cruel, I say.

How could you pin such evils on my name?

  Speedwagon lights a pipe, revealing himself.

  SPEEDWAGON

At Jojo’s order, I scoured the abyss

Of this city’s underworld, and found this!

[Speedwagon pulls back a curtain to reveal Wang Chan, a small, seedy man in Oriental clothing]

This man sold poison to you, Dio, no?

  WANG CHAN

Ay, it is certainly he, no doubt!

He came to my shop seeking bottled death

Which I carry in abundance!  Seize him!

  Another curtain draws, revealing Jojo’s Father and several Guards, all of whom have heard this exchange.

 JOJO’S FATHER

My heart doth rupture over this ordeal.

My son, how could you be so sinister

As to attempt the murder of the one

Who warmly welcomed you as family

I wish it untrue, this grotesque affair,

But I must entreat these loyal constables

To take you into custody posthaste.

Oh, Dio!  May God grant thee clemency.

  Dio feigns guilt and appears to accept his fate.

 WANG CHAN

No prison can hold one keen as he!  

His face is marked by an infernal brand,

He toys with fate as the horned Devil would!

 DIO

I would prefer it if you bound my wrists,

Respected brother Jojo.

[Jojo approaches Dio with binds]

                                  I know now

The limitations of our mortal clout,

That is, the more we scheme for revenge

The less predictable the end result.

It’s futile to commit such evil deeds

Whilst subjected to human folly’s yoke.

But Jojo –

[Dio produces the stone mask and knife from his cloak]

                    T’is not evil I renounce,

But humanity that I reject!

 [Dio lunges forward with the knife, attempting to stab Jojo, but Jojo’s Father takes the blow instead, collapsing in Jojo’s arms.  Jojo cries out in grief.  Dio dons the stone mask and rubs the blood of Jojo’s father on the mask, triggering some sort of metamorphosis.]

Thy lines’ blood I hath spilt tonight, Jojo!

Now, you all will witness awesome power

And the birth of a new God!  Kneel to me!

  The Guards all rush and impale Dio, and though it seems to work for a moment, with his head lolling to the side, but it then snaps back. The mask comes off, and he sprouts monstrous nails that he uses to cut the throats of all the guards.  Jojo and  Speedwagon are shocked by this display.

 JOJO

My God, what manner of monstrosity

Has Dio conjured?  Was this evil beast

Inside him all along? That horrid mask!

It must possess the power to transform

Men into monsters, and what’s even worse,

It can turn villains into vampires foul!

  SPEEDWAGON

Yea verily, I, even, am afraid!

  Dio continues his rampage.  Jojo looks around the parlor, trying to find a way to stop him.  He begins lighting mansion on fire.

 JOJO

We cannot let him leave this house alive.

Run,  Speedwagon! Off!  Here I will remain,

Ensuring that my brother perishes

Amidst the scorching fingers of these flames.

  Speedwagon retreats.  Jojo ascends the staircase, followed by Dio, who appears to walk up the side of the wall. Exeunt All.

 SCENE FIVE

 Jojo and Dio stand on the rooftop, wreathed in flames.

 JOJO

Here me now, Dio!  This house that raised us

Will soon be the pyre for our funerals.

  DIO

I have no intention of expiring

In your damnable home at all, Jojo!

Soon, a million voices will praise my godhood!

I can see my destiny, clear as day:

I shall rule this world, from mountain to sea.

I think neither you nor God in heaven

Can destroy me, perfect as I am now.

  JOJO

My father, home, and life have been laid waste.

So nothing matters but your last demise.

A spiraling inferno beckons us.

Come, Dio.  We’ll both die in smoke and ruins.

[Jojo tackles Dio and they grapple as they descend through the burning mansion.  Dio attempts to cling to a wall, but Jojo grabs the knife from earlier.]

There’s no escape.  This knife is stained with blood

Of innocence, born through betrayal black,

But it can yet atone.  With this steel blade

I sentence thee to the death thou deserve.

  Jojo stabs Dio, causing him to shriek in pain.  As their falling bodies separate, Dio is impaled on a statue in the foyer.

 DIO

Inconceivable!  To be slain this way

By the likes of you!  Be warned, Jojo;

Any agony I feel now shall pale

When compared to my eternal fury!

I await thee deep in Hell, young Jojo.

  Dio dies. Jojo is blown out of the house by an explosion.   Speedwagon and Erina find him.

  SPEEDWAGON

He yet lives!  He defeated that dire foe.

In time, this man shall be the champion

Of everyone worldwide.  But even now,

He is our honorable paladin,

A star that shines beyond all other lights.

  Exeunt All. Fin.