#sam serving at shaw security

[mythallia]

you got a 9-5 so i'll take the night shift

[anexistingexistence]

I feel like Darlin' is a very animalistic person. And I don't just mean this as "they're very in touch with their wolf" - which they are, don't get me wrong - but they also fully have a wild animal brain in their skull. Like when they go running while shifted, they don't shift like how the Shaw Security wolves were taught, instead, they choose to rip their clothes or just straight up take them off before shifting. In addition to this, they also wear very few to no clothes around the house because they find them restrictive like how a dog or cat might yell at you for putting them in a sweater. Darlin's eating habits are also what a lot of people would call atrocious because they always eat like they're starving and sometimes they almost ignore the cutlery next to their plate. They also prefer cooking and buying their food themselves rather than having someone else do those things for them because they like feeling more connected to their food - that and their hasty as well as (literal) hands-on approach to eating comes from the same feeling a wolf might have after killing its prey and serving it to its pack.

All that is to say that Darlin' also always touches people. They don't like being touched for personal reasons, but they always have to touch the people who are dear to them; They have their hand on Sam's thigh or knees, a hand on Asher's shoulder, they lean against David's side, they lean on Milo's head, they hold Angel's hand, they sit back to back with Baabe, and their knee and leg are always touching Sweetheart's when they sit next to each other. And with Sam, it's not exactly limited to just keeping a relatively tight grip on his thigh, but they've come to know that kissing and licking and nosing at their mate's neck, face, and ears isn't something that is appropriate to do in public or in front of pack. But sometimes they still lean against him and take a deep breath with their head on his shoulder and on his neck they smell their own scent and that dumb, ravenous, prideful, and possessive animal brain goes mine and mate and smells like me all mine he's marked because he's mine mine mine and nobody will touch him my mate I want to touch I want to feel and he smells like me and I want more I want him to need a shower by the time I'm done with him my mate my darling mine mine mine

[romirola]

romiiii, i need to ask about your thoughts about a potential alternate universe where darlin' leads a normal life and becomes a lawyerrrr

@zozo-01! YES, lawyer!Darling is a wonderful thought.

For context, zo is alluding to Chapter 7 of my fic, Packed with Love, where Darling has to intervene on Angel's and Babe's behalf to appease their mates over a particularly dangerous action they took. Darling presents themselves as a lawyer of sorts, deftly defending their pals and persuading Asher and David to think critically about the situation.

More thoughts on actual lawyer!Darling under the cut...

I definitely think Darling would make an incredible lawyer. They have the drive. The passion. The brash tenacity it takes to see yourself as someone capable of ensuring that laws be upheld to protect citizens' rights and, by and large, help society grow and evolve without compromising its governing, social, or civil values. To tell you the truth, I don't think Darling needs to live a normal life to pursue a law degree and, eventually, to begin practicing law. After all, they've got to do something post-Quinn! Many paths lead to the same destination!

Darling starts out taking night courses at D.A.M.N.. They work at the security company in the day and study at night, perhaps part time. It's rough work. Very rough work. To study law is to study language, logic, and history. It's writing, researching, and synthesizing. And somehow, you have to do all that, under massive pressure from profs, classmates, and more, while still remembering that your future clients are people who need help. (No matter what type of law specialty they decide to pursue!) That people will be depending on Darling to see they are justly served, whatever that might look like.

Darling struggles. They struggle hard. And that's not an indication of Darling's abilities (they are a logical whiz, capable of analysis and practical application unlike any other.) Darling has so much on their plate (security company jobs to make money, trying to keep up social ties to be integrated into the pack, spending time with Sam as they explore what it means to be mated...) Some days, they just barely squeak by with their exams. They ask for (needed and deserved) extensions, as much as they hate asking. It is a difficult thing, to put yourself at the mercy of others, in the way that being a student inherently asks you to do. It rubs someone like Darling the wrong way. They never really get used to it. Despite the way it makes Darling skin crawl and makes them want to just give up and call it quits, they persevere. They continue with the program, even though they didn't quite imagine their experience would look or feel like this.

But amidst all that struggle, who better than Darling knows just how important it for those responsible for applying the laws to do so accurately and equitably? Who better than Darling understands the hurt that principates from people slipping through the cracks when justice remains an elusive option?

So, they keep working. They keep studying. They keep trying. Some days, they aren't sure what is harder: reading through the dense legal documents, crafting articulate responses and analyses of those documents, or admitting that to fulfill this goal, they've periodically got to reevaluate themselves and readjust their ambitious expectations they have for themselves in order to reach their goal of finishing.

And, eventually, they finish. Sure, Darling is already worried about internships, the bar exam, and all the other "next steps" that never stop coming. But when they quiet their mind long enough to reflect on their accomplishment, they nearly burst into tears and feel a weight lift off of their shoulders. They're proud of what they've done, and ready for whatever's to come.

When they graduate, both the Shaw Pack and Solaire Clan attends their commencement ceremony.

[evermore-quoththefangirl]

Random Redacted Headcannons from my AU and Listener OC's

Angel and Starlight are siblings, Angel is the older one

Also, Angel is older than David by like, 2 years, and loves it.

Sweetheart is actually from Georgia but lost their accent after moving away for college. It rarely ever comes out. The first time it does it when they get possed off at Christian at a solstice party for making fun of Milo's height and the most vicious 'bless your heart' falls from their lips. Everyone's in shock.

Sidenote, Sam was there and was smirking because just from those three words in a thick ass accent, he could pinpoint where Sweetheart grew up almost down to the city.

Darlin first shifted during a really bad bout of the flu and didn't even know it. But they'd been next door neighbors with Angel and they made sure their pregnant mom didn't see their friend going back and forth between human and a very small wolf.

Angel is hard of hearing and wears hearing aids, they taught the selectively mute darlin ASL.

(Angel is also a navy brat and retired marine, an accident meant they couldn't continue to serve, its why they have a hard time sleeping during storms.)

Damian also lives across the street from them, his single mom and him lived with his aunt and uncle (navy) until he was in highschool.

Freelancer's best friend outside of the gang from DAMN graduated their first semester but they still talk. It's Cutie.

Freelancer is a very proud genderfluid person and has short little sibling energy, they only chill out in certain situations or in the presence of Angel. (No one really knows why, but that's their big sister now)

Baabe, never to be forgotten, is black. No I don't take criticism. But whenever they redo their hairstyle, Asher helps. (They sort of showed him but he also secretly went to a hair parlor to learn how to do it too.)

Baabe is also a business owner. They're an enigneer/mechanic and do large scale cosplay commissions for the most part. LIke moving things like wings and tails and even tails that are connected to a heart moniter to react to emotions and ears that react to sound and move accordingly.

They went to college with a dude named Marcus, who they haven't heard from since turning down an offer he also got for some secret project.

Angel has the uncanny ability to mimic people's accents

Freelancer is an amazing dancer, loved it to death, and knows all kinds of types from different neighbors they had growing up. This including Classic Indian Bellydancing from a gypsy, bollywood style dancing from the same person, West Coast Swing, Lindy, Ballroom Dancing, both Two Step and Square Dancing, Hula, and Raqs Sharqi from an old middle eastern woman and her daughter. The only she knows of and about but hasn't learned is a Native American dance from a family who'd introduced her to their Tribe when she got lost hiking once and didn't actually learn it out of respect for them after seeing it that night before they took her home the next day.

Cutie is an interior designer and uses their powers to make sure they get what looks good but what the client wants. They've been known to take odd jobs on the side though for empowered people and worked with Shaw Pack Security a few times with high risk jobs that they didn't have much info on.

Starlight and Angel are mixed, their mom is half Brazilian (she was a baby of convince and never learned about her other culture), and while Angel looks pretty mixed, Starlight look just like their mom and studied in Brazil for a while, having the urge to learn about their heritage that Angel never really had.

Starlight is humanborn and has no idea their older sibling knew about empowered people, so despite being super close as kids, they drifted apart when their powers manifested since it was a secret thing. They got pulled in with Avior while going to visit Angel, wanting to rekindle their relationship.

Avior started calling them Starlight because they love mythology, but astronomy (the myths behind them speciffically) is a huge love of theirs.

There will be a aprt two with the boys btw, for now enjoy my offical return to tumvlr after some shit happened and I love my old account. In case you want to know btw, I was Forevermore_Quoth_the_Kitten.

[stateofsport211]

📸 Eurosport IL

Wrapping up the day in today's Australian Open was the Quad Wheelchair Doubles finals match between Donald Ramphadi/Guy Sasson, who advanced after first seed Sam Schroder/Niels Vink's withdrawal that happened during the latter's singles semifinal match, and Andrew Lapthorne/David Wagner, who stunned second seeds Heath Davidson/Robert Shaw 6-3, 6-2 in the semifinals earlier today after being rained out yesterday. Knowing both pairs, this should be an exhilarating encounter, but a little experienfe might have helped Andy/David while Donald/Guy fought all the way out.

Andy/David had a dominant start in the first set before Donald/Guy started to absorb some pace and even some things out midway. Right in the second game, the latter already faced a break point until Guy's forehand winner right at the deciding point helped putting his and Donald's name into the scoreboard by holding to 1-1. After Andy/David held their service game to 2-1, Donald's forehand errors created the former's break point before their pass converted it to 3-1. Somehow, after consolidating their position to 4-1, Andy came up with a forehand winner for the equalizer to 4-1* 15-15 before David came up with a volley to create their break point. It was then converted (5-1) after Guy's failed down-the-line shot.

However, in contrary to the first five games, where Andy/David appeared more aggressive and Donald/Guy seemed to be erratic, the latter pair suddenly had some inspired return games, increasing their anticipation while putting some more weight on their shots. Donald's cross-court forehand slice secured a crucial point winner before Guy came up with a topspin forehand winner for a crucial equalizer. It was followed by David's double fault before Guy's failed smash saved one of those points, but it was insufficient to serve the first set breadstick as Donald's forehand finish resulted in the break of serve to 5-2. Donald/Guy then minimized the gap by holding their serves to 5-3.

The next two games became intriguing, considering the direction of the match could have gone either way. This time, while Andy/David should have served for the first set for the second time, Donald/Guy dug deep, with Guy's backhand winner making a significant damage to *5-3 30-30 to precede Donald's forehand winners that created and converted the break point (5-4). Subsequently, Andy/David had ideas, with David's volley securing them the 2-point lead after Guy's failed volley before the set point was created due to Donald's netted volley. Thanks to a working drop shot, the set point was converted for Andy/David to break for the first set 6-4, allowing themselves to be ahead in this match.

[teamhawkeye]

Cross Road Blues

Fandom: FC5/FC3

Characters: Anna Bishop, Hoyt Volker, Sam Becker, Buck Hughes, Willis Huntley, Dennis Rogers, Citra Talugmai, Vaas Montenegro (mentioned only)

Pairing: None

Warnings: Graphic depictions of violence, Canon-typical violence (can’t stress these two enough, it’s a Far Cry game fic), minor character death

Word Count: 9,530

Summary: Alone and on the brink, would you accept the hand extended to you when it belonged to sin incarnate? (A FC3 AU starring Anna L. Bishop)

________________________________________________________________

“‘Would you tell me, please, which way I ought to go from here?'

'That depends a good deal on where you want to get to,' said the Cat.

'I don't much care where -' said Alice.

'Then it doesn't matter which way you go,' said the Cat.

'- so long as I get SOMEWHERE,' Alice added as an explanation.

'Oh, you're sure to do that,' said the Cat, 'if you only walk long enough.’”

- Lewis Carroll, “Alice In Wonderland”

________________________________________________________________

The bottle in her hand was slammed down unceremoniously on the counter.

“Another.”

The barkeep barely even looked at her as he slid a fresh beer her way. Anna wasn’t all that drunk and she wasn’t bothering anyone, even with as unnecessarily loud and brusque as she was being. Badtown had far worse come through this dive daily – she was actually surprised she hadn’t seen the usual suspects come slinking in yet at noontime. Perhaps they all sensed her foul mood and kept some distance…a wise decision, she guessed, given how agitated she was and willing to look for any excuse to release some of her frustration.

She hadn’t made many friends since leaving the States, even less since arriving unceremoniously on the Rook Islands. So feeling essentially dumped by the two separate anchors she’d come to rely on – both in the span of a single month - had reduced her to day drinking as she did now, sitting sullenly and contemplating her future…or lack thereof.

Maybe that Vaas character was right…she’d hit the ground and no longer had a chance. She should have never jumped from that plane…

____________________________________________________

Anna’d been thinking for some time that she shouldn’t have left the United States. Her whole life, she’d never even seen the West or East Coast – there was so much territory left uncovered she could have explored.

But then Louis Draven had been paroled and common sense had gone out the window.

All her neighbors and family friends in Jackson County had beseeched her to go on vacation, to get away – however far away it may be - and find something else to occupy her mind. They’d all had the good sense to predict that if she remained, some other terrible thing might befall her…or she herself would go seeking trouble.

…they weren’t wrong to worry.

She’d sat for a few days in Chief Deputy Shaw’s living room, surrounded by relics of her past – of photos of her mother and father in their prime smiling down at her – and contemplated her future. Nothing seemed more alluring than seeking out Draven and confronting him; if there was ever a chance at closure for the deaths of her parents, it lay with him.

…but then again, he was the monster in her closet. The nightmare that had plagued her for years, that had completely upended and destroyed her life. A chance at seeing him face-to-face again left her trembling so violently she could scarcely even remember to breathe.

So she’d booked a last minute trip out of Bozeman to California and turned tail and fled.

And after a few days on the coast – finally getting to the see the ocean she’d spent her whole life dreaming about – she’d booked another trip to Thailand at the behest of the hotel concierge. And from Bangkok, she’d been talked into joining some new barcrawling acquaintances in a group skydiving venture over some secluded islands, far from prying eyes.

Every single bad decision – both past and present – led back to Draven. If he had just stayed rotting behind bars like he was supposed to, she would have never been besieged by pirates on that beach and dragged off to be thrown into a cage, readied for auction to the highest bidder. She would have never met Vaas, that psychopath who treaded a dangerous line between absolute insanity and startling clarity. She would have never had to have broken herself free and taken off into the jungle alone, pursued by armed guards, snarling dogs, and even a Black Hawk helicopter.

She might never have taken her first life as she had been forced to during that desperate escape to freedom.

“What do they say in America? ‘There is a first time for everything.’”

Dennis Rogers had told her that at their initial meeting in Amanaki Village. He’d been her first real ally, outside of the scatterbrained Dr. Earnhardt.

And the first person she’d mistakenly put her trust in.

The Rakyat seemed noble enough: they were a people fighting to preserve their home, their islands besieged by chaos and violence. They fought to survive…something she could relate to. And so she’d readily agreed to help them where she could, taking on Vaas’ pirates head on and fighting to reclaim some of their territory for them.

Dennis had promised her an eventual meeting with the Rakyat’s enigmatic leader Citra - the real power and figurehead on the northern islands. Anna wasn’t particularly convinced of the woman, just based on what she’d heard whispered about her; the Rakyat saw her as some sort of warrior goddess and Anna had long since run out of patience with stories of the divine…Still, if anyone would be able to help her return to the mainland and figure a way back home, she was the person who could.

There had been an eventual arranged introduction, after Anna had been escorted to Citra’s mysterious temple in the middle of the jungle; she’d been received with initial warmth in regards to her exploits in the name of the Rakyat, causing hope to blossom in her chest for the first time in weeks. However, the pleasantries had ended there when Citra had quickly made clear she didn’t see their working relationship panning out much further and summarily dismissed her.

“You possess great strength and courage – the makings of a true warrior…but you lack conviction.”

She might as well have just slapped her in the face: it would have left the same mark, the same brand. We appreciate what you have done for us but you will never be one of us, nor will we expend any effort to help you in your quest.

In spite of all the services she did in their name – all the lives she took, civilians she saved, outposts reclaimed – it wasn’t enough. Nothing would ever be enough, she quickly ascertained, even as Dennis tried to assure her otherwise.

“Citra sees the fire in you – but you must embrace it, not run from it.”

She’d seen him only two or three times more after that before being largely relegated to radio calls; now she couldn’t even remember the last time she’d even heard his voice. Those rejections smarted but she’d tried her best not to let it deter her. Especially not after several different sources in Amanaki whispered to her of people in Badtown who might be more willing to help an outsider such as herself. So she’d headed east and sought out the only other major center the northern islands housed…and almost immediately regretted her decision.

Filth lined the streets, with sick and drunken people either ambling about or sprawled out right in the open. Prostitutes were working every corner and there were probably more certifiably insane residents than there were sane ones. Her first minute in Badtown had Anna wondering if she wasn’t the victim of an incredibly malicious and unfunny joke: who on earth could be here that could possibly help her?

It wasn’t until the next day that she spotted him – the man in the white suit. Beyond his incredibly conspicuous choice of attire, he was one of the very few other Caucasians on the islands…picking him out of a crowd wouldn’t have been difficult.  

She had the distinct feeling he knew she was coming into town and let himself be seen; he implied as much without outright saying it when they were alone together in his underground base. He was Willis Huntley, CIA. He was on an important op for the United States government, tracking the activities of one Hoyt Volker and the massive criminal enterprise he’d built on the islands over the years. Did she want to be a true patriot and serve her country, here and now?

Anna would have agreed to just about anything in that moment if it meant scoring a guaranteed ticket home; she’d practically tripped over herself to say yes as it was.

And so she had become an agent of Langley…or an accessory to an agent, as Willis had been quick to inform her. She was by no means truly CIA and her involvement would remain as a footnote in a file that would eventually be buried in the stacks of some warehouse in the future. Fortune and glory had never been what she’d aspired for so it hadn’t hurt her ego in the least – she’d merely taken to her missions with gusto, eager to press forward.

A few burned drug fields, rescue missions for transport manifests, and a few covert spying ops later, she was feeling more secure in her chances of heading home within the next month or so. The Rakyat were managing to hold the ground she had secured for them and were finally giving the pirates enough trouble that they were forced to seek assistance from their mysterious boss, leaving them in a precarious situation. There was only so much left to do on the islands, as far as Anna could tell, before the big guns would sweep in to finally put pressure on the man in charge and force his empire to crumble.

Only fitting, then, that she’d returned to Willis’ shack for further orders and been blindsided her with the news that he was leaving her behind. His operation in the Pacific was over and he was shipping off to Russia to start a new assignment, putting the Rook Islands behind him…never to return.

“What about me?” she’d demanded when she’d regained her tongue. “When do I get to go home?”

“Whenever you can find your own way off this rock,” had been his blunt response.

He’d turned and stared at her while she visibly tried – and failed - to process what she was hearing.

“Your country thanks you for your service…but there’s bigger fish to fry out in Moscow. Hope you have enough money saved to charter a boat, since that’s your best bet of getting back to the mainland.”

That had been all he’d had to say on the matter. He was too busy with packing up his gear to even put much note into how long she lingered, hoping he was joking or that he’d at least give her something more to work with. She’d finally had the sense to drag herself back up the stairs and out into the stagnant Badtown evening air, tail between her legs, when it was clear he was an even bigger asshole that she’d pegged him for at their very first meeting.

Anna’s feet had taken her straight to the bar on the other side of town to drown her misery and ponder her disastrous luck once more…

__________________________________________________________

And there she had remained ever since. She’d poked her head out every now and then to see if Willis would ever show his face again, but she had seen neither hide nor hair of him. It was probably better that way, she realized, as her hurt was replaced with potent rage and despair – she might have slugged him given the chance. Not only was she going to be left behind with no real shot at making it to the mainland for help, he’d effectively handed her a death sentence by having her do all his dirty work in his stead.

It wasn’t just the pirates and Vaas she had antagonized now – she’d kicked the hornet’s nest by attacking Hoyt Volker’s product and sabotaging a handful of his operations. There was no way she’d escape those actions unmarked…it wouldn’t surprise her in the least if there was already a bounty on her head or a hit squad off in search of her.

The Rakyat couldn’t protect her, even if they wanted to (which they didn’t…): they could barely protect themselves. And Willis had effectively wiped his hands of her as he prepared to abscond north and head to his latest assignment. She was back to being on her own in these foreign lands, armed with only her wits and strength to keep her safe...

So, she was thoroughly fucked.

Knocking back another full swig of beer, she grimaced to herself at its strong ethanol kick. Maybe she’d head back to Dr. Earnhardt’s place for a spell while she sorted things out. She knew he’d never turn her away or turn her in: he seemed to have imprinted on her quite a bit. It didn’t take being called “Agnes” one too many times or finding old photographs of his daughter lying around to know she was filling some sort of void for him. She understood the pain of losing family but she wasn’t looking for a father figure…and the affection he doted on her left her feeling uncomfortable. Not because he was overstepping any boundaries – he was a very kind and respectful, albeit strange, man. His warmth simply left her with a painful yearning in her heart for something she’d been missing for so long...

It had made her visits to see him briefer and less frequent as her time on the islands progressed…but maybe this was the universe giving her a sign it was time to return for a lengthier stay. She’d spent time there undisturbed by the doctor’s usual pirate clientele in the past, meaning they hadn’t ever noticed or been clued into her presence. Perhaps there could be a way for her to stay there with Earnhardt and work on getting-

“Anna Bishop.”

It wasn’t a question; she took her time acknowledging, taking a swig from her drink and rolling it over her tongue before finally taking a glance over her shoulder. The men behind her were not what she had expected to see – not at all. They were well equipped - both in Kevlar vests and packing assault rifles – and clearly disciplined based off their rigid stances as they stood waiting at attention. Looking all the part of a PMC…and very much out of place in the shithole they all found themselves in.

“Who’s asking?” she demanded finally, expression trained blank even as she knew just who they worked for and why they were here.

“Mr. Volker wishes to speak with you. Please come with us,” the man on the left stated.

The atmosphere in the room shifted instantly and Anna was suddenly aware of how much of a pariah she’d just been branded; the eyes of the other patrons had all turned towards her, making her feel unspeakably hot under the weight of their stares. Trying not to focus on how her stomach had plummeted at the namedrop, she kept her gaze steady as she looked on as unimpressed as she could manage.

“And if I refuse?” she tested.

Neither man reacted to her bluff, still staring at her unflinchingly.

“We must insist,” the first man said simply.

She briefly weighed her options. Running seemed laughable, almost as much as making a stand did. Her eyes had taken in how trigger ready their fingers were resting on their weapons and knew they’d drop her before she even had time to reach for the pistol tucked into the waistband of her shorts. There was no one to recruit in helping her out around here – most of the locals were petrified of the pirates…and judging by their reactions to the appearance of these soldiers, even more terrified of the man who ranked above Vaas.

Turning back to face the bar, she briefly made eye contact with the bartender; his apprehension was so palpable she could practically taste his fear in the air. With a sigh, she knocked her drink back and set the bottle down with a loud clatter, pushing herself tiredly off her stool. The man on the right extended a hand out towards her; she stared at it wearily for a moment before fishing her pistol out of her waistband and placing it in his grasp.

As it slipped from her fingers, she had to work to control the rapid acceleration of her heartbeat, feeling as if the walls were suddenly closing in on her even as she was led outside and underneath nothing more than the burning glare of the Pacific sun.

__________________________________________________________

They’d chauffeured her straight to a helicopter waiting on the beach. And not some cheap passenger bird – a Black Hawk by the looks of it. She’d never been in a chopper before…hadn’t been in a plane until she left the States however long ago that was now, she couldn’t quite be sure…

It was better than being in cramped economy class, she supposed; but it was hard to feel anything other than anxiety as they crossed the sea and headed for the southern islands. There was a knot in her stomach that only grew tighter with each passing minute, amplified each time her eyes left the water below and back to her traveling companions. They were at ease, but she could see their fingers close to their triggers and knew that if she tried to pull anything before they landed, they’d riddle her with lead and dump her body in the ocean without care.

There was far less jungle on the southern isles – and far less natives. From the height they were cruising, there was nary a village or outpost unoccupied by privateers in sight. She’d heard Hoyt took issue with the locals and Rakyat but the legitimacy of such a claim became abundantly clear on his home turf. Even without setting a single foot on the ground, she could tell they ran a tighter ship over here…one she would not be able to bail from so easily.

She was starting to realize the knot in her stomach was a warning of perhaps more than just the end of this journey…

The massive concrete walls in the distance had to be their destination – it didn’t take a genius to figure out that was Hoyt Volker’s HQ. The compound was really more of a fortress: beyond the giant walls, all topped with barbed wire, there were checkpoints and armed guards at every single point of entry. There were soldiers wandering the street and sentries outside ever building on the premise, placing eyes and ears in just about every corner. Anna took in the sight of all of the security measures – all of the armed men prepared to rain fire upon their employer’s enemies - and felt something akin to acceptance settle into her chest, easing some of the sickness in her stomach…

The chopper had barely set down just outside the sprawling complex before the soldiers at her side were grabbing her by the arms and dragging her back out under the sun. It surprised her they’d been so benign up until now – being in sight of their boss and peers must have fueled their aggression and she knew better than to resist now. They paraded her through the streets, drawing every pair of eyes onto her as she struggled to match their pace. She was taken into the largest building at the heart of the compound and straight for the staircase at its center; it was all she could do to keep herself from stumbling on any of the steps, trying as hard as possible to maintain whatever dignity she had left even as her heart thundered in her chest with terror.

They marched her through a pair of large, opened doors and into a sprawling office space overlooking the front courtyard and the river beyond the perimeter wall. The large leather armchair behind the desk was occupied but turned away and facing the large windows as Anna was dragged before it by her escorts.

“Anna Bishop for you, sir,” the man on her left announced simply.

Anna had only seen Hoyt Volker twice before now, both times at a distance. He wasn’t physically imposing, in the sense that he was very lean and lithe…but he had an aura of absolute menace that made all the hair on the back of her arms and neck stand on end as he turned in his chair to face them. The man took in the sight of her with a smile, looking remarkably pleased to see her.

“Ah, there you are! So good of you to accept my invitation to meet.”

Had her courage not abandoned her long before her arrival here, she might have leapt on that statement with a scathing retort. Instead, she could only hold her silence and try to keep her gaze steady as he gave her a thorough onceover. Finally, he made a dismissive gesture with his hands she quickly realized was not meant for her.

“Leave us.”

The soldiers released her and turned without another word; she fought the urge to rub the skin on her arms where their fingers had dug in, merely watching as they filed back out the way they came, shutting the doors noisily behind them.

Leaving Hoyt and her finally alone…

There was an unbearable silence that reined between them for several moments that left Anna feeling dizzy with apprehension as she turned back to face him, taking in the way he was gazing at her. Finally, he gave her a smile and gestured towards the chair across from him.

“Come. Sit.”

She didn’t want to – her base instinct of digging in her heels was replaced by the overwhelming urge to turn tail and flee. But she made herself walk slowly towards the offered seat and planted herself in it, trying to look braver than she felt.

Hoyt had an unwavering stare that made her feel smaller than she already was. Still, she forced herself to meet his gaze head on, her heart pounding so loudly in her chest she swore he could hear it. The silence was unnerving and she had a feeling he was letting it drag on longer than necessary to rattle her cage.

“You’re a difficult woman to get ahold of,” he said finally, looking amused. “There’s only so many…civilized places on these islands. And you seem to make very few appearances in them.”

He already knew she had been doing that on purpose – staying disconnected from his network of spies and informants who might lay eyes on her – so she didn’t bother with a redundant answer.

“Self-reliant. I like that,” he admitted. “There’s only one person you can truly rely on in this world to take care of you…and that is yourself.”

A lesson she’d long since learned; still, to hear it from him, made her already queasy stomach feel worse. It made her realize that somewhere in his past, there was a connection to her own…neglect, abuse, betrayal…

“Do you smoke?” he asked suddenly.

She swallowed thickly as she tried to regain her capacity for speech.

“On occasion,” she managed to force out, softer than intended.

Her eyes watched his hands as he reached into his desk and brought forth a box of cigars; he hadn’t asked what she smoked and she had to wonder if he knew that she’d only had cigars since arriving on the islands. She reached forward hesitantly as he offered one to her, careful not to let their fingers touch.

There was only a moment to sit awkwardly with the unlit stogie in her grasp before Hoyt produced struck a match and held it out to her. The only way to accept was to lean forward across the table towards him, forcing her eyes to leave him for the first time since entering the office. When she finally drew back and brought her gaze quickly back to him, she found his eyes had never left her, still watching her every move.

Hoyt’s eyes were a curious shade of green that could almost be described as pretty…if there wasn’t such sinister intent behind them. Just as she was starting to feel herself start to sweat under the weight of his stare, he turned his eyes from her and down to his desk. She watched as he flipped open the small booklet before him and took in the familiar sight of her portrait in its corner.

“Anna L. Bishop. Born 27 November 1993…only 18,” he stated, looking between her passport and her face.

She tried not to squirm under his roving eyes, finally taking a drag from her cigar to help steady her nerves.

“You look it,” he acknowledged after a moment. “But after all the trouble you’ve caused, I’d have thought you were at least mid-20s. And trained by the military…or police…”

He reached for something else that immediately caught her eye, her heart stopping at the familiar glint of gold between his fingers. She watched him brandish the badge, her eyes glued to it, as he stared her down.

“A tad young to be sheriff,” he surmised correctly.

“…it was my father’s,” she managed to force out eventually.

“Ah. Dear old dad…won’t be missing this, will he?”

“Probably not. He’s been dead for years.”

“Hmm. And mummy?”

“Same for her.”

There was a momentary beat of silence where she forced her eyes towards the cigar smoking between her fingers, frantically working to recompose herself. Hoyt discarded the badge carelessly back onto the surface of his desk and it took all of her strength not to let herself look at it again, taking another puff from her stogie instead to ease her frayed nerves.

“You’re not military, you’re not police…”

His gaze was unrelenting as he pinned her to the spot.

“So how is it that you’re running around out there making professionals look like a bunch of fucking children in a sandbox?”

She swallowed around the lump in her throat, thinking over her response carefully. In the end, when she finally returned his stare, she chose honesty.

“It’s me or them. I’m just out there doing what it takes to survive.”

Hoyt scoffed, laughing lightly beneath his breath.

“Survival would be hiding beneath some rock and avoiding attracting any attention to yourself. Instead you’re leading raids on Vaas’ men, burning down fields and blowing up weapons caches.”

He wasn’t wrong but she held her tongue and watched as he visibly weighed his next choice of words.

“I’m not bothered by you fighting your way to freedom. Or the men you killed, or the trouble you’ve been giving my boy Vaas,” he said finally.

This is the calm before the storm, she realized suddenly.

“What I can’t have is you destroying my product, my property!”

Her heart was racing even as she tried not to give a reaction to his shout; still, when his hand had swung down towards the desk’s surface, she’d flinched, unable to stop herself from closing her eyes in preparation for a hit that never came. She only gave herself a moment or two to steady her breathing before forcing her gaze back on him, taking in his scorching glare as evenly as she could.

Several seconds passed before he finally leaned back into his chair, his gaze softening ever so slightly as she brought the cigar back to her lips and took another puff.

“Fortunately for you, the pirates you killed in that last little stunt were all stealing from me.”

How convenient.

Still, she could hardly believe anyone would be ballsy enough to try and rip off Hoyt Volker. She understood those who crossed him seldom lived to tell the tale - had observed as much back at Beras Town when he’d forced those people through the minefield for taking his transport manifest.

Then again, until recently, she had been actively undermining all his operations with gusto…perhaps being far removed from the man and his presence gave an inflated sense of confidence. Sitting before him, as she did now, was an entirely different thing altogether: she couldn’t imagine taking him head on anymore.

“The plan was always to burn the cut they intended to sell and then be rid of them…You did me a favor handling that all in one go. So, I’m going to cut you a break.”

The look she sent him must have spelled out her disbelief as he spread out his arms as if to wave away her suspicions.

“Clean slate. Back at square one.”

“Square one,” she repeated hollowly.

Her mind placed her back to that night in the cage, before she’d broken free and ran from an armed pursuit into the jungle. She knew from the start they were going to sell all their captives off - the pirates’ chatter had left her with no doubts about that, long before Vaas had dangled the impending danger in front of her. First they ransomed off their prey…only to then auction them off to the highest bidder anyway.

If Hoyt still meant to make a buck off her…

“It’s just me…,” she spoke up finally, trying to keep her voice steady. “I don’t have any money to pay a ransom. I...”

A lump formed in her throat voicing that last statement and she quickly swallowed around it, working hard not to crack. She’d run out of tears a long time ago – she’d be damned to have that change now in front of Hoyt of all people.

“Negotiations generally go better if you don’t play all your cards at once,” he advised with a hint of amusement.

Probably true. Still…

“We’re a bit beyond bullshitting each other at this point,” she stated plainly. “I know when to fold a bad hand.”

His eyes seemed to sparkle at such a statement but she wasn’t sure what it was that he latched onto; she could only watch as he rose from his chair and circled the desk to come stand before her. As he loomed over her, she could barely keep herself from shaking, even as he reached out and grasped her chin in his hand, tilting her face upward. Hoyt’s eyes seemed to bore into hers and it was all she could do keep from shutting hers tightly to escape from some of his intensity.

“Such a rare thing, eyes like that,” he noted. “Plenty would pay a fortune for a pretty girl with different colored eyes.”

Her heart lurched in her chest but she held his gaze, letting her gaze harden to steel. Terrified as she may be, anyone trying to buy her would be met with resistance. She was a fighter, through and through, and would be damned if she didn’t go down without a fight…

“If I were to sell you,” he continued, finally letting her face slip from his fingers. “But I don’t want to do that.”

The look she gave him conveyed her disbelief; his hands rose in a gesture of good faith.

“Really I don’t. You fought hard for your freedom. And I’m inclined to give it to you…”

She watched him warily as he leaned back on the desk behind him, regarding her with a suddenly neutral expression.

What’s the chance he actually intends to let me walk outta here?

Slim to none, she wagered. In spite of his assertion of a “clean slate”, she didn’t see him allowing her to skip town after everything she had done. After everything she had seen. The drugs, the smuggling, the kidnappings and the murders she had witnessed in her short time here must only scratch the surface of all the dark deeds being undertaken on the Rook Islands.

She wouldn’t have the first clue who to approach back on the mainland, but her testimony could surely get something in the works…couldn’t it? Hoyt had to know that – he was already 5 steps ahead of her, it seemed, and knew the danger she presented left to her own devices. No, she didn’t see herself getting to leave this all behind…she could only see this ending one way…

“Work for me, kid.”

Nothing could have prepared her for a job offer – not when she was readying herself for death instead. Anna could only blink, unable to keep the shock from her face as she stared up at him in disbelief.

“You’re young, talented…a bit green, but you show real promise,” he said casually, making the situation seem all the more absurd.

He circled back around the desk and sat himself back down in his armchair; she watched as he produced another cigar from his box and lit it for himself, taking his time savoring the initial drag before addressing her again.

“You’ll be compensated accordingly…a roof over your head, real food, neither of which I know you were getting in those savage towns or the jungle.”

…that was all certainly enticing, she wouldn’t lie. Starvation and restless nights weren’t unfamiliar to her but it still wasn’t wonderful to be experiencing them once more. The promise of a decent bed and square meals certainly had her thinking it over…

“And - best of all - you get to keep doing what you do best. Only in my name now; you go where I tell you to go, and you shoot who I tell you to shoot,” he told her, gesturing with his cigar animatedly.

Anna swallowed thickly, feeling the saliva in her mouth turn acrid at his words. It had…troubled her, to say the least, at just how easily she’d taken to killing. After that first pirate in her escape from Vaas’ camp, it had become almost second nature: she barely even blinked when taking a life anymore. She hadn’t been lying to Hoyt minutes prior when she chalked it all up to survival…but perhaps it went a bit beyond that.

Hoyt, at the very least, seemed to understand that. Otherwise, he probably wouldn’t be casting this pitch here and now. He thought she belonged among his ranks…working in the service of a slaver and drug lord. She hadn’t forgotten what he was or how he made his money; all his praise and honeyed words couldn’t take that knowledge from her…

He must have read the indecision on her face, given how pensive he seemed from a moment prior.

“But I understand this is big commitment, and one not taken on lightly. So…name your price.”

Anna stared at him, not quite comprehending.

“What do you mean?” she finally dared to ask.

“Anything you want…within reason,” he amended after a moment, taking a puff from his cigar. “Name it and its yours.”

What could she possibly want from him – what could he possibly give her? Her eyes darted to the far corner of the desk and the shiny gold star winking at her from it.

“I want that back,” she said quickly, gesturing for the badge.

He placed it down on the desk before her and she had to force herself not to snatch it up in the same moment. Having it back in her grasp lifted an enormous weight off her shoulders, letting her breathe normally for the first time in weeks. Her thumb slid over the shield, following the smooth trail she’d worn meticulously over the years and felt the familiar comfort and strength it lent her seep into her chest. She only allowed herself a few strokes before burying it deep in the pocket of her shorts, far from Hoyt’s prying eyes, still watching her every move.

“I was going to offer that back to you anyway,” he told her simply, leaning forward once more. “It’s meaningless to me – and probably just about everyone else. So, as a gesture of good faith, name something else.”

Anna could only stare at him, seeing how he waited in anticipation for a response and realized he was being sincere. What else could she ask for? Not her freedom, obviously, since he wanted her staying here and working for him – but what else did she want?

There was so little she craved. Money wasn’t a priority, nor was status. She would be content with so little if she could just live comfortably and in relative anonymity…all of which waited for her back in-

No, it doesn’t, a voice in her head warned suddenly, conjuring up a familiar face in her mind’s eye.

Her blood ran cold as she thought of Louis Draven once more. Everything always linked back to him – everything was always his fault. Her parents, her time in foster care, all the abuse and neglect she’d suffered, her decision to skip town and come out here-!

Wrath consumed her, causing reason to abandon her. Swallowing thickly around the angry lump that had formed in the back of her throat, she tried to keep her voice from shaking as she spoke.

“There’s a man back in the States: Louis Draven….say I wanted his head-”

“Done.”

Her eyes snapped back to Hoyt instantly, some of her rage tempered by disbelief.

“Just like that?”

He merely shrugged.

“Simple enough.”

“You don’t need to know why?” she pressed.

“You’ve got your reasons – good ones, I’m sure,” he said simply. “We’ll leave it at that.”

He levelled her with a stare.

“But know that if I do this for you, you’ve signed a contract with me. Your life becomes mine.”

There was something more than just sinister in his choice of words…but all she could think of was the smile on Draven’s face when he’d walked away from her father, bleeding out in her arms in the middle of Main Street. Her eyes were hard as stone as she stared back at Hoyt.

“You get him for me, I’m all yours,” she insisted.

If he kept his word, she meant it. But she had her doubts – no one delivered on such promises. Kind of like when the judge looked her in the eye and told her Draven would never see the light of day again after being thrown behind bars…

Still, when Hoyt smirked and reached a hand out across the desk, she took it without hesitation, shaking it firmly. An even if he didn’t make good on his word, she might have a better shot of finding help here on the northern islands than back in Badtown or Amanaki. Maybe Hoyt’s apparent interest and attention would wane and she could slip onto a boat bound for the mainland and there would be no real fuss over her vanishing. She could play the long con, if that’s what it took…with any luck, she’d be back in the States in a short while, putting this whole fever dream behind her for good.

She kept that in mind, even as a sudden heaviness in her chest cautioned her of who she had just signed her soul over to.

____________________________________________________________

Nearly two months had passed and Anna remained in the belly of the beast – but all things considered, it wasn’t so bad, she supposed.

Cutting a deal with the man pulling all the strings had immediate benefits: unlike previous agreements she had entered into with others on the Rook Islands, Hoyt actually came through for her. Real, decent food she didn’t have to scrounge for, a solid roof over her head, and an actual mattress to sleep on had her ready to speak all the words he wanted her to say a hundred times over.

The Privateers weren’t the best people to be suddenly thrust into the mix of…especially not as the lone female among their ranks. There were eyes constantly on her, making her feel next to naked just walking the streets as she learned the layout of her new home. Most kept their distance, either maintaining silence or simply catcalling as she passed. Others were bold, putting themselves in her space and forcing her to contend with their unwanted attention and defuse as skillfully as she could.

It had taken just one man going a bit too far to finally have someone step in. One of the tallest, most intimidating men she’d seen in her time at the Compound came forward and immediately had her intimidator on guard as he sized him up.

“No one messes with this one or they go straight to Hoyt,” the tall man said in a thick German accent that perfectly matched his physical appearance. “Boss’s orders.”

And that was that. The harassment all came from afar from that moment onward – and she had become fairly attached to Sam Becker, her unexpected knight in shining armor. He’d actually supervised some of her training and seemed to be grooming her to join his squad out in the field in the future.

Out of all the possibilities that laid out for her, that one was indeed the most promising. The longer she stayed here, the less certain she was that trying to make a break for the mainland was even possible. Most of the men who served here were bastards and would sooner sell her out if she approached them with such a conspiracy instead of offering a hand; those who were more decent, such as Sam and several others she had grown friendly with, would likely caution her against crossing Hoyt in such a way. He’d extended mercy to her once before – he would not do it again.

For the most part, she didn’t see too much of Hoyt himself. He was busy running his empire and she was fully occupied with being put through the paces of becoming a Privateer. The training was rather intense – she didn’t have military history like most of the men around her and hadn’t been prepared to be dropped into boot camp – but she put in her best and tried keeping pace.

When the boss did deign to drop by, it was almost always to look in on her and whatever she was being subjected to. It was a seemingly average day when he made one such unannounced visit while she was in the midst of target practice with a handful of others.

“Anna.”

Nobody ever called her Anna, as she’d said time and again. But Hoyt Volker wasn’t nobody. And he didn’t take “no” for an answer so she hadn’t bothered correcting him like she did with everyone else. She turned towards him instantly, abandoning her company at the drop of a hat; none of them protested, all knowing what happened to those who thwarted their boss’s even most inconsequential whims.

He actually waited for her to join him at his side and she was immediately suspicious of how pleased he looked with himself.

“I have a present for you,” he taunted.

Her eyes narrowed ever so slightly before she could even think to conceal her skepticism; she was a second too slow, based on Hoyt’s laughter. Had it been anyone else, he might not have reacted so well to such insolence, but for some reason, he seemed to indulge hers to a degree.

“Walk with me,” he commanded.

It was a strange request but she didn’t dare question him and easily fell into step behind him. Still, as he led them away from the range and back towards the center of the Compound, she could feel her brow furrowing with confusion. Hoyt wasn’t one for silence and his quiet left her feeling deeply unsettled. Either he was deep in thought or he was unhappy…and she finally thought to be more worried about where he was taking her as he led her down into the basement of the main complex.

She didn’t need to be told what happened down here: the sight of the cells that lined either wall and the heavy aroma of sweat and fear were all the indications she required. It left her throat dry, wondering just what reason she was being brought down here for. Hoyt had called it a “present”…but was he merely toying with her? Did he have any reason to suspect she was still harboring a desire to skip town at the first chance?

As he led her towards the furthest cell back, the man she had come to know as Buck exited through its door. He spoke to Hoyt in a low tone that had the other man chuckling under his breath before waving him away. Anna watched in silence as Buck sauntered off, but not before casting a wink her way. Immediately, her hackles raised; she didn’t know him well but she knew enough about Buck Hughes to be deeply wary and unsettled by him. She didn’t have time to watch his departure as Hoyt gestured her into the cell first.

Hesitantly, she approached before nearly stopping dead at the sight before her. There was a man inside, tied to a chair and beaten to a pulp. His head was drooped over his chest, obscuring his face from view; Anna could only stare in confusion as Hoyt passed by her and towards him, circling around behind him.  

“A deal is a deal,” he told her pointedly.  

She struggled to find the words to voice her confusion just as he grabbed the other man’s hair and brought his head back up straight. Anna’s heart stopped in her chest the moment she recognized just who was before her.

That face…she’d never forget that face. Not even bruised and broken as it was now. It haunted her...she saw it when she closed her eyes, she saw it when she slept…

She couldn’t have predicted that Hoyt would have hand delivered Louis Draven to her. Beyond the doubt that he would make good on his word at all, she’d just assumed she’d be told that he was taken care of. Having him here, before her, for the first time since his sentencing all those years back…

“Well, I imagine you have some catching up to do,” Hoyt said cheerfully, dropping his hold on Draven and striding back towards her.

Hoyt’s hands were suddenly on her shoulders, anchoring her to the reality of the situation: this was real, this was actually happening. He leaned in close and she felt the warmth of his breath on her cheek.

“Take as long as you need,” he told her.

She felt his fingers slip away and heard his footsteps dissipate as he walked off.

Leaving her and Draven alone…

For a long time, she remained rooted to the spot, merely staring at the man before her. He barely acknowledged her, head rolling from side to side as he contended with the pain from his previous beatings. Buck must have been the one to put him through the wringer – she didn’t feel sorry for him in the slightest but she could practically feel Draven’s pain as he sat there breathing heavily.

For so long, she’d seen him as only a monster. Some sort of shadowy specter that was untouchable. Seeing him bleed reminded her he was just as human as she was. It finally gave her some power over him.

“Do you remember me?” she spoke up, softer than she intended.

“Fuck you,” Draven slurred after a minute.

“Do you. Remember. Me?” she demanded, voice rising sharply as she took a step forward.

Draven cast a tired, irritated glance her way but he did make an effort, sizing her up.

“No,” he said finally.

“March 8, 2004,” she stated stiffly, stalking closer. “Mountainview, Montana. You gunned down the sheriff and his wife in broad daylight on Main Street.”

She watched the surprise blossom in his one good eye and felt herself begin to quake with rage. Her fingers curled into fists at her sides.

“They had their daughter with them. You didn’t kill her.”

He was silent for some time, staring openly at her.

“You gotta be fucking shitting me – you?”

Anna stepped closer, eyes brimming with the full hatred of the last 7 years.

“Me.”

Draven sneered, showing her bloody teeth.

“Well look at you, all grown up…and working for some thugs. Parents would be so proud-”

“You don’t get to talk about them!” she shouted.

She had to wait for some of the red to bleed out of her vision; everything was so loud and moving so fast, much like her heart thundering in her chest. Inhaling and exhaling through her nose rapidly, she fought to regain any of her composure.

“And you don’t get to judge me for how I’ve survived up until now. I wouldn’t even be here if it weren’t for you.”

“So that’s my fault too-“

“Yes. It is,” she snarled. “If you hadn’t killed my parents, none of this would have happened! If you had just stayed in prison like you were fucking supposed to-!”

“I did my time.”

“You were handed a life sentence,” she hissed. “Just because you managed to exploit some fucking loophole and get out does not mean you ‘did your time.’ There will never be enough time on this earth to make right what you did to my family, to me.”

“Your old man killed my brother, did they ever tell you that?” he asked.

“For trying to kill him – and several civilians,” she snapped. “It was his job to stop him.”

“Still killed him.”

“You killed both of my parents.”

“It was revenge.”

“So is this.”

He glared at her through his shark-like black eyes.

“Bite me.”

Anna surprised herself with the cruel bark of laughter that ripped from her throat.

“You took everything from me. My parents, my home, my life – every terrible foster home I got shoved into, every time I got beaten and smacked around, every hardship I’ve faced these past years is all on you. That all falls back on you and what you did that day,” she spat.

He remained silent, his glare shifting from her to the wall as he exhaled in pain, finally letting his tough guy act fall through. Anna stared at him for a long time, taking in his state as she attempted to rein herself back in. Her rage sat hot and tight in her chest and the back of her throat, making it hard to even try and sort through her thoughts. But there was still a question that needed answering – something that had plagued her for so long…

She swallowed around the lump in her throat and gave herself a second before pushing forward.

“Have you ever once felt any regret for what you did?”

“No.”

His response was fast but concise: she didn’t doubt his sincerity. It didn’t make the feeling in her chest any better but at least there wasn’t the problem of guessing if he was lying to her or not.

“Given the chance…”

She turned back towards him with surprise, waiting for him to continue. He rolled his head back to stare at her, a nasty smirk on his lips…the same one she remembered from so long ago-

“I’d do it all over again, just the same.”

Her hand flew down to her holster before she even had time to think. The Glock in her hand fired off two rounds, one into each knee. His screams made her stomach turn but she refused to look away, watching him writhe.

“You bitch! You fucking bitch!”

She reholstered her pistol with shaking fingers, trying to regain control over herself. The action had been so kneejerk – she wasn’t even sure if it’s what she intended this all to lead up to. It would be an outright lie if his pain didn’t bring her any pleasure…but by and large, she just grew angrier with each passing second.

It didn’t take much for her to realize that she had reached the point of no return. What she had done just now already spoke volumes …what came next would absolutely define her for the rest of her life. Anna shut her eyes and inhaled deeply, trying to sift pass the cold, angry voice in her head that called for blood – had called for it for so long - to see if this was actually what she wanted.

“I should…have killed you too,” he wheezed out finally. “That’s my one regret.”

When she turned back towards him, her eyes were filled with cold resolution.

“Yeah. You should have.”

His eyes went instantly to her holster as she strode towards him, but her fingers went straight down to the sheath attached to her boot instead. He didn’t deserve quick or relatively painless – this was too personal. Draven had a moment to take in the sight of the blade before her hand arched and brought it down straight into his chest.

It was nothing but reflex at this point – she barely even reacted to his gargled exclamation before she pushed the knife in further. She let it sit for a few moments, before retracting quickly, ignoring the sudden warm spray on her cheek as she brought it down again.

He finally looked to her and she forced herself to meet his eye. For a moment, she remembered that smirk he’d given when he’d ran out of bullets and walked away from her family in the street, leaving her cradling her father while he bled out. Now Draven was the one dying, his blood covering her hands…only she had no smile for him. There was no happiness to be found in this act, only hatred and wrath. Anna made sure to hold his gaze as he slipped away, the light fading from his eyes as he finally slumped over and struggled no more.

She wasn’t sure how much time passed – it felt like both a second and an eternity – before she pulled the knife out and stumbled back a step or two. Her gaze couldn’t leave his face – at his still open, lifeless eyes, vacant and unseeing – as she panted for breath, standing in the center of the cell with silence as her only remaining companion.

Her father’s badge, safely tucked away in one of the pockets on her pants, felt suddenly heavy. Like it knew what she had just done and was reminding her of the gravity of her actions. She didn’t dare reach for it, hands slick with Draven’s blood, the knife still clutched tightly between her fingers.

Slowly, she lifted the blade to wipe clean on her sleeve. She didn’t trust herself to use any of Draven’s clothing for the task – she didn’t want to set foot near him again and chance unleashing more of that fury on his corpse. His death didn’t bring her the closure she’d hoped: killing him hadn’t brought back her parents. It didn’t undo all the injustices she had endured or take away the pain she felt.

All it did was stoke the anger inside her.

Still…even if justice hadn’t been served, vengeance had been claimed. In the end, she supposed, that was all that mattered. It was over and done, nothing further to be gained; she’d just have to accept that.

After several moments of staring at the limp body across from her, she forced herself to turn and exit the cell. Out in the hall, she felt she could finally breathe again, inhaling shakily through her mouth. It was like she’d suddenly become present again after being removed from time and space – that had actually just happened, it wasn’t something she’d imagined. The blood on her hands and face seemed to have gained weight, making her hyperaware of their presence; it didn’t leave her feeling sick as she expected…just inexplicably calm as she navigated her way back out of the cellblock.

Hoyt was at the surveillance desk when she reached the end of the hall, eyes already looking to catch sight of her as she rounded the corner. Anna realized he had been watching through the camera feed and had witnessed everything that had just transpired. A knot formed in her stomach at such a deeply personal moment being watched by an outsider…but knew it would have never taken place without his orchestration and tried to smother the feeling as best she could. His smile of approval greeted her as she drew closer, spreading his hands out in question.

“Satisfied?” he asked simply.

Anna couldn’t be sure that was the word she’d use to describe how she was feeling…but it was probably the closest to catharsis she’d ever reach. Searching for the right response, she found that there wasn’t anything remotely poignant or intelligent she could provide.

“Thank you,” she managed to force out quietly.

Hoyt merely shrugged, looking unfazed.

“Merely upholding my part of the bargain,” he reminded her, watching her closely.

Her eyes flitted to him, voice returning with a sense of conviction.

“I’m with you,” she said earnestly. “Here on out, I’m yours.”

She meant every word.

Perhaps there was no coming back from this – no redemption, no absolution. But maybe it was better this way…maybe it’s what she actually wanted. She’d struggled so long with the feelings of darkness within her soul – finally given the chance to act upon them, there had been no hesitation, no doubt…

Absolutely no regret.

Maybe she did belong here with Hoyt and his men after all. He was giving her a look of approval that she’d be damned to deny didn’t make her feel sinfully justified.The desire to return home was non-existent in her now: this was home, wherever Hoyt was. She’d follow him to the ends of the earth, into Hell itself if he asked her to; she owed him a debt she could never repay.

The darkness didn’t seem so scary now, not when she walked side-by-side with what lurked in it. There was no place for any light in that inky blackness…she’d have to leave it behind in order to move ahead.

That suited Anna just fine. 

______________________________________________________

“Yeoo, standin' at the crossroad, tried to flag a ride Ooo eee, I tried to flag a ride Didn't nobody seem to know me, babe, everybody pass me by Standin' at the crossroad, baby, risin' sun goin' down Standin' at the crossroad, baby, eee, eee, risin' sun goin' down I believe to my soul, now, poor Bob is sinkin' down”

Robert Johnson, “Cross Road Blues”

__________________________________________________________

Author’s Notes: I’ve replayed FC3 a lot the past month and a half and it had me thinking...Jason Brody was 25 and stranded with friends and family to look after when he arrived on the Rook Islands. My girl Anna Bishop would have only been 18 in 2012 when the game’s timeline is set, with no family and no friends to speak of. It had me wondering just how differently things would have played out with her in a leading role as opposed to Jason.

No attachments means less danger...but also greater loneliness and despair. And she didn’t have what Citra wanted in the end so I saw her path diverging substantially from Jason’s. Aside from how charismatic I find Hoyt, I also felt that Anna would be more susceptible to him and what he had to offer than Jason ever was. It also would open up the door for future interactions with Vaas, Sam, and even Buck going this route so i ended up typing up this little story as a way to kill time between writing some of my FC5 stuff.

[tomorrowedblog]

Friday Releases for August 2

Friday is the busiest day of the week for new releases, so we’ve decided to collect them all in one place. Friday Releases for August 2 include Hobbs & Shaw, Luce, Dry Drowning, and more.

Hobbs & Shaw

Hobbs & Shaw, the new movie from David Leitch, is out today.

Ever since hulking lawman Hobbs (Johnson), a loyal agent of America’s Diplomatic Security Service, and lawless outcast Shaw (Statham), a former British military elite operative, first faced off in 2015’s Furious 7, the duo have swapped smack talk and body blows as they’ve tried to take each other down.

But when cyber-genetically enhanced anarchist Brixton (Idris Elba) gains control of an insidious bio-threat that could alter humanity forever — and bests a brilliant and fearless rogue MI6 agent (The Crown’s Vanessa Kirby), who just happens to be Shaw’s sister — these two sworn enemies will have to partner up to bring down the only guy who might be badder than themselves.

The Nightingale

The Nightingale, the new movie from Jennifer Kent, is out today.

THE NIGHTINGALE is a meditation on the consequences of violence and the price of seeking vengeance. Set during the colonization of Australia in 1825, the film follows Clare (AISLING FRANCIOSI), a 21-year-old Irish convict. Having served her 7-year sentence, she is desperate to be free of her abusive master, Lieutenant Hawkins (SAM CLAFLIN) who refuses to release her from his charge. Clare’s husband Aidan (MICHAEL SHEASBY) retaliates and she becomes the victim of a harrowing crime at the hands of the lieutenant and his cronies. When British authorities fail to deliver justice, Clare decides to pursue Hawkins, who leaves his post suddenly to secure a captaincy up north. Unable to find compatriots for her journey, she is forced to enlist the help of a young Aboriginal tracker Billy (BAYKALI GANAMBARR) who grudgingly takes her through the rugged wilderness to track down Hawkins. The terrain and the prevailing hostilities are frightening, as fighting between the original inhabitants of the land and its colonisers plays out in what is now known as ‘The Black War.’ Clare and Billy are hostile towards each other from the outset, both suffering their own traumas and mutual distrust, but as their journey leads them deeper into the wilderness, they must learn to find empathy for one another, while weighing the true cost of revenge.

Them That Follow

Them That Follow, the new movie from Britt Poulton and Dan Madison Savage, is out today.

Deep in Appalachia, Pastor Lemuel Childs (Walton Goggins) presides over an isolated community of serpent handlers, an obscure sect of Pentecostals who willingly take up venomous snakes to prove themselves before God. As his devoted daughter, Mara (Alice Englert) prepares for her wedding day, under the watchful eye of Hope Slaughter (Academy Award Winner Olivia Colman), a dangerous secret is unearthed and she is forced to confront the deadly tradition of her father’s church.

Luce

Luce, the new movie from Julius Onah, is out today.

A married couple is forced to reckon with their idealized image of their son, adopted from war-torn Eritrea, after an alarming discovery by a devoted high school teacher threatens his status as an all-star student.

Ladyworld

Ladyworld, the new movie from Amanda Kramer, is out today.

Eight teenage girls become trapped in an endless birthday party after a massive (imaginary?) earthquake. The girls’ sanity and psyches dissolve as they run out of food and water. Eventually, they regress to their baser instincts, exploiting each other’s fears and insecurities.

The Operative

The Operative, the new movie from Yuval Adler, is out today.

Based on Yiftach R. Atir’s book, The English Teacher, Yuval Adler’s “THE OPERATIVE” is a taut psychological thriller about a young Western woman recruited by the Mossad to go undercover in Tehran where she becomes entangled in a complex triangle with her handler and her subject.

A Score To Settle

A Score To Settle, the new movie from Shawn Ku, is out today.

An ex-enforcer for a local crime syndicate has vowed to enact retribution on his mob bosses after 22 years of wrongful imprisonment. The only thing diverting his violent plans is a new found relationship to his beloved son.

A Black Lady Sketch Show

A Black Lady Sketch Show, the new TV series from Robin Thede, is out today.

A Black Lady Sketch Show is a narrative series set in a limitless magical reality full of dynamic, hilarious characters and celebrity guests. The show presents sketches performed by a core cast of black women, including Robin Thede, Ashley Nicole Black, Gabrielle Dennis and Quinta Brunson.

Dear White People S3

The third season of Dear White People, the TV series from Justin Simien, is out today.

Change is in the air. Dear White People returns to Netflix with new characters, new relationships, and new secrets.

She-Ra and the Princesses of Power S3

The third season of She-Ra and the Princesses of Power, the new TV series from Noelle Stevenson, is out today.

Adora, Glimmer, and Bow embark on a journey of discovery that leads them to the desolate Crimson Waste. Meanwhile, Hordak and Entrapta push Catra aside while they conjure up a master plan that o

Dry Drowning

Dry Drowning, the new game from Studio V and VLG Publishing, is out today.

Dry Drowning is a psychological investigative visual novel set in a futuristic dystopian city. Follow the story of Mordred Foley, unscrupulous private detective haunted by his dark past, and look into a series of macabre serial killings inspired by Greek mythology.

[themastercylinder]

  SUMMARY

In the distant future, at a genetic research station located on the remote desert planet of Xarbia, a research team has created an experimental lifeform they have designated “Subject 20”. This lifeform was built out of the synthetic DNA strain, “Proto B”, and was intended to stave off a galaxy-wide food crisis. However, Subject 20 mutates rapidly and uncontrollably and kills all of the laboratory subject animals before cocooning itself within an examination booth. After Subject 20 hatches from its cocoon, it begins killing the personnel at the station, starting with the lab tech charged with cleansing the subject lab of the dead animal test subjects.

Professional troubleshooter Mike Colby, accompanied by his robot assistant SAM-104, is called in to investigate the problem. After Colby settles in, his decision to terminate Subject 20 to prevent further deaths is met with research-minded secrecy and resistance. The staff of the station includes the head of research, Gordon Hauser, his assistant Barbara Glaser, lab assistant Tracy Baxter, the station head of security and Cal Timbergen, the chief of bacteriology.

As Subject 20 continues to kill most of the station crew, the reason for the deception is revealed. Subject 20’s genetic design incorporates human DNA, and its method of killing is to inject its prey with the Proto B DNA strain which then proceeds to remove all genetic differences within specific cells. The result is that the victim’s living body slowly erodes into gelatinous pile of pure protein which Subject 20 consumes for sustenance. After its final mutation, where the creature evolves into a huge insect-like being with a large mouth full of sharp teeth, the creature is slain when it eats Cal’s cancer-ridden liver, its body genetically self-destructing from within. Mike and Tracy are the only survivors.

  DEVELOPMENT

FORBIDDEN WORLD is the proving ground for first-time director Alan Holzman, another in a long line of Corman’s protégés (including Francis Ford Coppola, Peter Bogdanovich and Martin Scorsese). Holzman put together Corman’s theatrical trailers for the last couple of years, and like Joe Dante, another Corman promoted editor, asked for a chance to direct. Sets used in filming GALAXY OF TERROR were still standing and camera equipment was not due back at the rental outlet till the end of the week, so Corman agreed. “Show me what you can do in one day,” he said. Frantically, Holzman convinced character actor Jesse Vint to don a mothballed uniform, came up with a make-shift script overnight, incorporating left-over footage of dog-fight effects from BATTLE BEYOND THE STARS and enthusiastically completed an incredible 94 set-ups in one day. With his trailer experience, Holzman then edited the footage into an action sequence which Corman adjudged so accomplished that he not only gave Holzman his chance to direct. A few months later, using a screenplay by Tim Curnen based loosely on a story by New World marketing whiz Jim Wynorski, Holzman went to work on FORBIDDEN WORLD, using the space battle as the film’s exciting pre-credit sequence. The film was shot on a break-neck 20-day schedule for under $1 million, and it displays every penny of its budget right up on the screen.

Tim Curnen’s screenplay of a constantly evolving mutant on the prowl in a remote scientific outpost on the planet Zarbia is from a story by New World publicist Jim Wynorski and R.J. Robertson. Both acknowledge ALIEN and THE THING as “inspiration.”

The project actually began about 3 years ago when the motion picture ALIEN was making so many bucks at the boxoffice. Jim Wynoroski was approached by a producer who wanted to make another picture just like ALIEN so Wynoroski & his friend Robertson cooked up a 10 page treatment that Wynoroski titled MUTANT.

“My first concern,” said Robertson, “was getting our plot as far away from ALIEN as possible while maintaining the elements which had made it popular in the first place.”

The essential elements, as Robertson saw it, were an isolated group of people who were being murdered by a particularly unappealing monster. Wynoroski & Robertson’s original story was set on a lunar base near the end of the century. A group of scientists are working on an experiment to speed up the evolutionary process with the ultimate goal of allowing humanity to function in alien environments without the need of life support systems. (This proved to be a good idea since in the movie the monster attaches itself to the base’s life support system at one point in the story. That way the humans couldn’t kill the monster without killing themselves.)

A beautiful view of the model showing the outside of the research station.

One of the experimental subjects, a laboratory mouse, succeeds in adapting to various atmospheres. A little too successful for after the little critter consumes all of the other test animals in the lab it not only is able to absorb the minds & memories of its victims but also takes on whatever physical characteristics it needs to survive. After eating a cat the mouse can see in the dark. After digesting a dog it has acquired a keen sense of smell. A monkey gives it agility. The scientists are unable to capture the thing and eventually it consumes one of the technicians. From that point on, the remaining scientists battle the creature for control of the lunar base & their lives.

Unfortunately, the producer who asked for the treatment lost interest in the project, “You get used to that sort of thing.” Robertson said with a wry grin. “I guess producers work on the assumption that you’re so grateful to get a chance to break into the motion picture industry that you’ll put up with treatment that you’d never accept in any other line of endeavor.” So MUTANT met a quick death, or so Robertson & Wynoroski thought.

Building the cocoon for the Mutant in FORBIDDEN WORLD (1982

Two years later Roger Corman, president of New World Pictures, was looking around for another outer space type movie. Jim Wynoroski in the meantime has become the advertising director for New World Pictures. So he dusts off the old MUTANT treatment and hands it to Corman, who appreciates the commercial potential. Another writer was brought in to finish a script.

When Robertson saw the completed motion picture at a sneak preview he was surprised that the ending of the film was neither the one from the original treatment nor the clever ending of the screenplay in which the creature was treated like a bacteria, was given an injection of penicillin and blew up & burst like a balloon. It was completely different and we won’t spoil anything by revealing it here.

The film is now about a group of scientists working on developing a new source of synthetic food on an outpost on planet Xarbia. One of the scientists decides to try a little experiment of his own. He takes a new type of protein that grows wild on the planet and splices it together with human sperm which he then injects into a female volunteer who must have also short-circuited for a few minutes. They don’t have long to wait for the results. In 2 weeks the offspring is born. It immediately kills its mother and then goes into hiding inside a cocoon. Everyone concludes that since the new life form is inside a shell, it is therefore harmless. It is quite obvious that these scientists are completely ignorant of sci-fi literature or motion pictures for no sooner have they ceased to concern themselves with the creature than it emerges from its shell, stronger & more deadly than before. One by one the scientists fall prey to the clever creature.

Draft of the 2nd stage of the MUTANT monster by Jim Shaw

BEHIND THE SCENES

Most of FORBIDDEN WORLD’s live-action filming was done right at the Venice Studio, which meant that as the camera was rolling on one setup, another area of the stage was being struck, repainted and or redressed. Hammering stopped only long enough for rehearsals and takes. Actors and technical crew had to be careful where they stepped and leaned during production-many of the sets still had wet paint even as they were being filmed. Administration offices, hallways and various lab areas were pressed into service. A corrugated metal storage shelter served as a not-so-soundproof soundstage; an entire wall of New World’s main building was dressed and painted to provide a massive two-story space station exterior as a backdrop for one of the mutant’s killings, and a nearby vacant lot was converted into a sandy alien desert.

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The sets for FORBIDDEN WORLD incorporate a lot of ordinary components in unusual ways. A standing joke during production, as volunteers went to pick up fast-food, was the effects men saying, “See if you can grab an extra handful of food trays!” A few thousand trays from McDonald’s can look impressive when spray painted and strapped to walls, augmented by such “high-tech” bricabrac as PVC piping, sheets of plastic “packing bubbles,” cut and formed upholstery foam, and cannibalized radio and TV parts.

In FORBIDDEN WORLD, you were the pilot of the first spaceship constructed entirely out of Big Mac containers and egg cartons.

Vint: Oh yeah. I was pretty amazed when I walked through that set. “These are egg cartons!” They said. “Yup. that’s what they are.”as they were tacking them to the wall and spray-painting them silver. And whenever we turned a comer and went through another portion of the ship, we just walked down the hall again and all the egg cartons would be spray-painted gold. – Jesse Vint

  SPECIAL EFFECTS

FORBIDDEN WORLD’s special effects are provided by a talented in house” effects team supervised by Bill Conway and headed by Bob and Dennis Skotak. Effects newcomer Steve Neill was given less than five weeks to come up with four major, fully operational embodiments of the evolving, rampaging life form. Neill and his constantly growing staff (which came to include Michael F. Hoover, Rick Lazzarini, Michael LaValley, Mark Shostrom, Anthony Showe and Gene Barsamian) found themselves saddled with some unworkable concepts from a previous production designer. Subsequently they agonized over several major changes from upstairs” with no easing of deadlines.

Though Neill’s delivered fourth stage design failed to operate properly, it was filmed anyway, over his objections. Since the “monster” proved so difficult to wrangle, it was decided to go heavy on the monster’s wrath. John Carl Buechler, was tapped to whip up some “death scenes” for assorted crew members.

The design and execution of the carnage fell to Buechler and a hastily assembled staff, including Stephan Czerkas, Chris Biggs and Don Olivera (who also played, in his own home-made robot suit, SAM-104, the hero’s robot sidekick). The on-screen result is a series of escalating Mutant murders, the style of which Buechler sardonically calls punk rock horror.”

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POST PRODUCTION

When the hectic shoot was wrapped, Holzman locked himself into the editing room and fashioned a quick first cut. It soon became apparent that, in his time-pressed decision to “Do it anyway” on some of the Mutant effects, Holzman had shorted himself on footage of his title-star. An urgent call went out to Buechler to come back and re-do some of the third-stage Mutant work, of which there was critically insufficient footage. Within a week, Buechler delivered a Mutant head which blinked, snarled and opened wide its ravenous jaws.

Then, it was back to the editing room for Holzman, the place where many New World pictures are eventually saved. That just may be the reason Corman promotes his directors from the ranks of trailer editors. Preliminary word from insiders who have seen Holzman’s final cut of FORBIDDEN WORLD is that despite the production’s hurried pace and budget limitations, the film races.

REFERENCES and SOURCES

Shock Cinema 18 (2001)

Cinefantastique v12 n02

Famous Monsters 185

  Promotional and Advertising Material

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  Susan Justin on her “Forbidden World” Score

  Forbidden World AKA Mutant (1982) Complete Soundtrack Composed by Susan Justin

    Track listing

Theme From “Forbidden World” (02:35)

Titles (02:36)

Birth And Death (01:27)

Mourning (01:26)

Alone (03:24)

Steam Room (01:23)

Mutation (02:31)

Xarbia (02:29)

The Hole (02:43)

The Doctor Returns (01:27)

Laser Shower (01:16)

Communication (01:43)

The End (03:58)

End Title Theme From “Forbidden World” (02:13)

Total Duration: 00:31:11

  Credits

Jesse Vint as Mike Colby

Dawn Dunlap as Tracy Baxter

June Chadwick as Dr. Barbara Glaser

Linden Chiles as Dr. Gordon Hauser

Fox Harris as Dr. Cal Timbergen

Raymond Oliver as Brian Beale

Scott Paulin as Earl Richards

Michael Bowen as Jimmy Swift

Don Olivera as SAM-104

 Makeup Department

John Carl Buechler  …special makeup effects (as J.C. Buechler)

Sue Dolph     …       makeup artist

Karen Kubeck         …special makeup effects artist: assistant makeup artist

Susan Moray …       hair stylist

Steve Neill    …       prosthetic fabricator

Don Olivera   …       special makeup effects

Jim Shaw      …       prosthetic designer

Christopher Biggs …special makeup effects artist (uncredited)

Bart Mixon    …       special makeup effects artist (uncredited)

Mark Shostrom       …special makeup effects artist (uncredited)

                                                                Forbidden World (1982) a.k.a Mutant Retrospective SUMMARY In the distant future, at a genetic research station located on the remote desert planet of Xarbia, a research team has created an experimental lifeform they have designated "Subject 20".

[takeeachdayonebookatatime]

Dun Dun means To serve, protect and not screw up because One moment changes Everything.

Captain Olivia Benson : pov  

We decided to let the newbie officers and my detective  named Kat tell some stories from the job Kat did not have many, next was Juliet Ward she also did not have many stories. Chloe Price was telling us about the time she got shot close to her neck. I told her about the time I got sliced in the neck by a suspect holding a knife and the small child  being held hostage died because my partner stopped to make sure I was okay. 

Gail Peck : pov 

Nick Collins talked about the time he got held hostage. Chris Diaz and dov Epstein had some good stories to tell. I talked about the time I was kidnapped and everything surrounding it and how scary it was at the time. Olivia told me about being undercover in prison and how a guard grabbed her and took her down to the hole for being bad. He assaulted her and when he pulled his pants down Sargent Fin came and saved the day. I also mentioned how Jerry Bishop died and how Tracy Nash, the other rookie at the time, took his death hard.

 Michaelangelo "Spike" Scarlatti : pov

  when I told everyone about babycakes they all started to laugh. I also talked about Lou and how good a friend he was. I started to mention how he died because of a landmine placed near a bomb I was telling him how to defuse but could not finish so Greg did for me. Obviously a lot of us here have been taken hostage, even me. Olivia told us a story about one of her Detectives, Sargent Mike Dodds, on his last day of work and how they were going back to a domestic violent call they responded to a few days earlier. The mom just wanted to leave with the kids but the dad took all of them hostage. She said " she left with the kids and Mike stayed inside and  got shot in the gut. At the hospital he developed a blood clot that caused a stroke and died suddenly. Everyone agreed being held hostage with a bomb in the room is bad, but having someone like me who can defuse the bomb is good. 

Kevin " Wordy" Wordsworth :

 pov I talked about my 3 girls and getting shot on the job, family and having each other's back.  Sargent Fin told me about his kids, Sargent  Munch with his conspiracy theories. And the time his Captain Don almost went to jail when a dead lady was found in his bed and it turns out he was framed. Olivia told me all about her son Noah and Amanda told me about her dog Frannie, 2 little girls Jessie and Billie. Ed talked about his kids and so did greg.

Andy McNally: pov

 me being kidnapped/taken hostage was mentioned also the time I got shot doing security at a concert. I told everyone about me holding a grenade and Sam offering to hold it too. Olivia mentioned being held hostage in a townhouse and a few other times she was held hostage/at gunpoint. Sam told everyone how I arrested him on my first day when he was undercover. Olivia mentioned about being undercover with an environmental group.

Samuel W Braddock  : 

pov I talked about the war being a soldier with JTF2 all the times I had been held hostage dating Jules. Olivia talked about the time she got transferred because her captain don thought her and her partner Elliot were too close to each other. The second time she dated Ed Tucker from IAB was mentioned that is how she got temporarily transferred again. When you have been on the job as long as Olivia. 22 years you get a lot of stories.  

Amanda Rollins : pov 

I talked about Patton a little and Esther, the hard parts of the job, the long hours and little sleep always being on call. Sargent frank talked about Noelle and the baby how hard running a squad is which Liv and Greg agreed on. Sargent Fin also said it is hard when a family member is a witness, victim or suspect in a case you are working.

Edward  "Ed" Lane : pov 

I talked about the guy I shot and how his son sued me and then wanted revenge later on and Jules got shot in the process by bullets that Pierce body armor. Olivia mentioned Jenna and everything that happened with that and her partner Elliot. We talked about the warning signs of ptsd.

Julianna "Jules" Callaghan : pov 

Sam said it's not fun being in a hostage situation with chemicals and that I know all about that . I told the story about the lab and the anthrax.  Olivia told me she had a story about how possible kiddy porn turned into being poisoned by a toxic chemical in an apartment  building. but she signed something saying she could not talk about it. 

Gregory "Greg" Parker : pov Captain Olivia told us she had a story that was so horrible it topped all of ours. out of interest we all said we wanted to hear it she said it was something she could not talk about it but we could all look up the 3 articles about William Lewis and the type of guy he was, the trial and him escaping prison. Sargent Fin went and got some small garbage cans and put them near the tables for everyone while Amanda talked about not punching a wall and holding your barf in wow this must be bad Fin offered to help Olivia answer anyone's questions. 

Oliver shaw : pov 

After words all of the officers looked green in the face and grossed out  Sargent Fin and Captain Olivia answered our questions. She was trying to not have flashbacks so we all told funny stories until it was 4 in the morning. Greg offered to let us all sleep in sru headquarters for the night, they had enough cots/sleeping bags for us all so we agreed.

Juliet Ward: pov 

In the morning Greg and his team showed us some close quarter combat skills and negotiation techniques which would come in handy one day. Captain Olivia and Sargent Fin were showing us how to interview a suspect like a pedophile. Which was so cool and informative. Then we all hit the gun range to see who was the best shot. Ed, Sam and Jules were the best but then again they are snipers. Captain Olivia was also amazing and the rest of us were also good. We said our goodbye and then went home. The NYPD detective had a plan to catch the end. ……...

[chicagoindiecritics]

New from Al and Linda Lerner on Movies and Shakers: Richard Jewell

Controversy mars Clint Eastwood’s take on this film almost as much as whether Richard Jewell was really the 1996 Atlanta Olympics Bomber. Impressive acting performances by Paul Walter Hauser as Jewell, Kathy Bates as his mother and Sam Rockwell as their lawyer get hampered by the ham-handed script pushing Eastwood’s conspiracy fixations. 

They include the Government/FBI “Deep State” who can destroy an individual’s life to fit their pre-determination of guilt or innocence, and, of course, the Media. Journalists are depicted as nothing more than ambitious glory-seekers who will do anything to get the story. 

Clint, at 89, still has a touch for getting his actors to undersell and over-deliver their performances, especially from Sam Rockwell and Paul Walter Hauser. Jon Hamm and Olivia Wilde not so much. The script was written by Marie Brenner, who wrote the Vanity Fair article about Jewell and Billy Ray (Terminator: Dark Fate, Gemini Man, Captain Phillips). They help Eastwood’s hatred get channeled through these two characters and it shows in their one dimensional portrayals. Wilde plays a very unlikable ambitious reporter, and the director only allows one moment for her to show she’s human.

Despite that, this meticulously documented story is fascinating. Hauser (I,Tonya, Blackklansmen, Supertroopers) is on the screen every minute. He almost looks too much like the real Jewell. The law enforcement fanatic was basically a well-intentioned, lawman wannabe just yearning to serve and protect. But he took it way too seriously, trying too hard, making enough mistakes that he just couldn’t get out of his own way. He lost jobs because of it. In the beginning of the film, he ticks off lawyer Watson Bryant by going through his trash to discover his likes and dislikes. He’s a meddler, but you ultimately find out that’s not necessarily a bad thing. 

It’s his M.O. And he can’t help but swagger around the concert stage area at the Olympics making sure nobody gets out of line. He’s not a police officer, but an employee of a private security agency. Still it’s a way for him to feel important and he wields power where he can, specifically against some beer-drinking boys. A back pack left unattended catches his attention. We’re more aware of that now, but not that many people would have picked up on it in 1996 at a positive, friendly family event like this. 

Despite his being careful, and trying to get someone from law enforcement to check out the bag, he gets flustered and starts frantically running around. The bomb squad confirms his fears. Jewell had to repeatedly demand the concert crew evacuate the tower. No one wanted to listen to the overweight guard, but his insistence saved lives. It goes off before the area can he totally cleared, killing one person and wounding hundreds. The mayhem is frightening to watch, with people running and bloodied bodies everywhere.

The film then follows how the FBI, police and everyone in law enforcement begin not only to take him seriously, but make him a hero. He and Mama are pleased as punch until driven reporter, Kathy Scruggs (Olivia Wilde)  of the Atlanta Journal-Constitution breaks the story, citing circumstantial evidence that Jewell may be the suspect. That happens after Scruggs meets up with FBI agent Tom Shaw (Jon Hamm). Shaw was not a real person, but Eastwood makes him an amalgam of law enforcement types. The controversial moment is when Scruggs trades sex with the FBI agent for information that implicates Jewell as the suspect in the bombing. The Atlanta Journal-Constitution was appalled by the insinuation that sex played a part in their reporters getting the story. 

Whiplash! The film takes an abrupt turn. The way Eastwood presents the process of trying to discern if he was responsible or not becomes more frustrating than enlightening, based on real events. The scenes showing the FBI trying to set him up to confess to the crime, tricking him into signing a waiver giving up his rights and having a gay lover-accomplice show Eastwood’s disdain for law enforcement. He also shows same for the media swarming over his mother’s house and badgering them with cameras. Jewell is so gullible and vulnerable, it’s more than possible he’ll let something slip and Eastwood will have you on edge hoping this targeted suspect will just be quiet. 

Barbara Jewell, Richard’s protective Mama Bobi, is played with convincing nervous worry by Kathie Bates. Richard is a mama’s boy all the way who only wants to please authority, and that includes his Mama. They live a modest life and there is no mention of Dad. Hauser plays up to her, always trying to prove how good he is. She coddles him to pieces. The writers keep Jewell always talking trying to justify himself. He opens his mouth just to change feet. 

When Jewell finally realizes he might be in real trouble, he looks for help from Watson, now in his own legal practice. Watson, remembering Jewell, takes the case. Rockwell is always good. But here, he is amazing. He has an easy style of communicating with Jewell and his mother, but is intense and forceful when necessary. Watson had other lawyers on his team, one of which was a specialist in polygraph. They did all they could to try and prove Richard’s innocence, but he kept getting in his own way. 

Nadya (Nina Arianda), Watson’s assistant, based on a real characcter, becomes vital to the story.

The scene where the FBI comes into Bobi’s home and takes everything, including her underwear and Tupperware as evidence is heartbreaking and she plays that scene exasperatingly well. But they also take his arsenal of guns and grenade looking paperweights, which makes him look bad. 

It’s pitiful and pathetic what happened to this man who only wanted to do good. Interesting that Eastwood ended up make this film. Leonardo Di Caprio and Jonah Hill were attached to make and star in the project, but became its Executive Producers instead. Eastwood cast Hauser, Bates and Rockwell perfectly in a story that is even more relevant today with mass shootings and bombings that have become too commonplace. 

Eastwood’s approach uses Hamm and Wilde’s characters to represent his agenda regarding government and media. Jewell’s story is good enough on its own. This is a well-constructed piece of filmmaking, but even though it is built on shaky ground, you’ll learn that Richard Jewell really was a hero.

Warner Bros.              2 hours 9 minutes         R

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[pavspatch]

Kelly rejects cup favourites tag

Weekend Previews EVEN though manager Darren Kelly refuses to accept the term, HYDE UNITED head to Boston Town for tomorrow (Saturday’s) FA Cup clash as firm favourites. The stats suggest they are within touching distance of the fourth qualifying round for the first time since 2013 in what was their second and final season in the former Conference National Division. Hyde play at a level higher than the Poachers, who are midtable in the United Counties League premier division, and are unbeaten in 21 games. The Tigers are also enjoying their longest FA Cup run for around a dozen years, and since then-manager Steve Waywell famously declared he had absolutely no interest in cups. In the ensuing period they have barely won a tie. But Kelly urged caution, insisting the match is much tougher than it looks. He said: “I really don’t buy that tag of favourites. “Warrington went into the game against us as favourites and we dominated them. Boston have beaten three clubs from higher levels including Hednesford Town from the Evo-stik premier division. “All I can say is that the players will be professional in their attitude. They’ll bring the necessary effort to the table and hopefully — I say again hopefully — they’ll be able to win.” Town have proved themselves able to rise to the occasion in the FA Cup and have steadily built up momentum. They are keen to win the £7,500 prize money and reach the fourth qualifying round for the first time since 1980. Kelly watched them in midweek, but it remains to be seen how true an impression of their abilities he was able to glean. Boston went down 5-0 at Eynesbury Rovers, losing their unbeaten away record in the process, but rested a number of players. They had to play the last 30 minutes with ten men after defender Jason Field received a straight red. Jack Stockdill and Luke Porritt will again miss out for Hyde, but midfielder Chris Churchman came through training last night and could make his first appearance tomorrow when he is likely to be among the substitutes. In the day’s lone National League North fixture, CURZON ASHTON are home to Darlington and manager John Flanagan has three players out with hamstring problems: Danny Shaw, Sam Madeley and Jordan Wright. Also unavailable are Niall Cummins — suspended after being sent off at Brackley — and Oliver Thornley who picked up an injury in training. Jonathan Hunt is 50/50 with a groin strain. On the plus side, Paul Marshall has recovered from a hamstring strain. STALYBRIDGE CELTIC face Altrincham in an Evo-stik premier division game they have been forced to stage by the league. The NPL insisted on the fixture being brought forward from its original date of December 16 — a move that has cost the Bower Fold club thousands in lost sponsorship. There is a new addition to the Bridge squad in the shape of striker Edmilson Neves De Celta, who has been training with the reserves after moving to England from Portugal where he was with Lisbon-based lower-league club Bobadelense. Boss Steve Burr will be without long-term injury victims Matty Wolfenden and Joe Garvin. Skipper Danny Morton serves the second instalment of his three-game suspension after his straight red card in the 4-1 defeat at Witton. Liam Tomsett returns for ASHTON UNITED who welcome struggling Hednesford to Hurst Cross. In what manager Jody Banim calls a massive blow, the midfielder missed Tuesday’s home defeat by Workington through suspension. Banim said: “We really missed Liam’s energy because it was a game where our shortage of players became apparent. We looked a little bit tired. “Even so, I was disappointed to lose, especially after our win at Nantwich set us up so nicely. But Workington came to stop us and hit us on the counter-attack. We conceded a poor goal and never looked like scoring after that.” Rick Smith has joined Atherton LR for a month to gain match fitness. The midfielder missed a large portion of pre-season and has been injured for most of the season-proper. Speaking of tomorrow’s opponents, Hednesford, Banim commented: “They’re not where I thought they would be after the first game of the season. They’ve taken some heavy defeats and it looks a winnable match for us if we play to our potential.” DROYLSDEN have named a couple of new signings and are hoping to secure another two as they prepare to take on Tadcaster Albion at the Butchers Arms in the Evo-stik NPL first division north. Modou Cham is a former Blackburn Rovers and Clitheroe winger, and centre-half John Shaw comes in from Marine. Luke Daly and Danny Hall are suspended following their red cards against Glossop, and Liam Caddick and Callum Bagshaw are doubtful. Jamie Frost and Steve Hall both return to the squad as the Bloods look to win again after two consecutive defeats. GLOSSOP NORTH END travel to Atherton Collieries hoping to make it six victories on the bounce. Dale Johnson (back) and Matty Russell (hamstring) are both unable to play and Lewis Lacy is at a family wedding. Ben Deegan is 50/50. Gary Gee is seeing a specialist in the morning but is likely to be on the subs’ bench. Simon Lenighan and Billy Hasler-Cregg have been released. Caldon Henson returns for MOSSLEY, away to Clitheroe, after missing Tuesday’s 1-0 defeat at Ossett Town which was decided by a 90th-minute penalty.

[londontheatre]

Susan Penhaligon and Paul Bradley – Greg Veit Photography

Over the last decade the Finborough, under Neil McPherson’s astute stewardship, has garnered a richly deserved reputation for producing in-house, and hosting, revivals of long-forgotten and often overlooked plays that add eclectic depth to the contemporary dramatic canon.

Caste, by T.W. Robertson, produced by new company Project One, is one such: an exquisite little shimmering gem to delight the discerning playgoer.

Whilst Caste’s comédie de moeurs and language is rooted in the mid-nineteenth century (written in 1867) Charlotte Peters’s inspired and sparkling direction ensures its appeal to a modern audience to which long courtships and antipathy to inter-class marriage are as alien as swiping right would be to Victorians. Peters gets the mood, gets the history, gets the relationship-interplay and above all gets the humour. This is a lovely little historical document time-capsuling its period but it’s also a comedy – one of those funny comedies that make audiences laugh spontaneously rather than going through those polite West-End-theatre-audience motions.

To achieve this Peters needs a cast of believers, a cast that throws itself uninhibitedly into their roles with unbridled gay abandon (I use that phrase advisedly in its original Victorian sense). This is a committed company of skilled practitioners who are willing to stretch their craft to the limit to ensure near-comic perfection. Leading the way in this is Rebecca Collingwood as Polly, effervescent and endearing, annoying and alluring, scatty and seductive: she grabs the audience by the throat and screams “Listen to me!

Watch me! Delight in my ability to transform from coquette to confidante in the twinkling of an eye!” This is never more evident than in her penultimate scene solo re-enactment of the ballet “Jeanne la folle, or, Return of the Soldier” where she goes full hyper-over- drive in her attempt to bring her sister down gently (!) regarding interesting news about her deceased husband (fill in your own spoiler). Sister Esther, wooed, married, birthed and widowed is played with discreet charm by Isabella Marshall who manages to combine dainty, love-lorn delicate and dutiful daughter with steely, strong-willed woman of the world to great effect. It’s is no easy part to play but Marshall pulls it off with apparent consummate ease. Progenitor of these two commoner sisters is Eccles (Paul Bradley), the amusingly inebriated work-shy scrounger of a father who wears cor-blimey trousers and a what-me- guv? bowler that doubles nicely as a gratuity receptacle. Bradley is fun and funny – never more so than when he mistakenly drinks milk instead of liquor.

Susan Penhaligon, Ben Starr, Paul Bradley, Neil Chinneck, Rebecca Collingwood, Isabella Marshall, DuncanMoore – Greg Veit Photography.

The class-above love-interest is supplied with suitable martial panache by Duncan Moore as George D’Alroy, suitor, husband, and MIA father of Esther’s child – the baby George – and his sidekick, Captain Hawtree (Ben Starr).

Moore is all tall-neatly- pressed-scarlet- uniform, the clipped-moustachioed besotted romantic who knows that he will be disowned by his upper-crust Mother – but he doesn’t care! Moore handles this with deft restraint never yielding to the temptation of edging into caricature. He looks dashing in his soldier’s get-up, of course, but in the post-marriage domestic scene he sports a long, silver-trimmed, cerulean smoking-coat to die for: I want one.

Starr as Hawtree is a great foil to Moore’s George, starting as rakish and worldly realist before subtly revealing his heart-of-gold by the end. Like the sisters, these two make an intriguing and engaging double-act and the four of them together create a secure platform for the intrinsic comedy to evolve.

Whilst Polly flirts away with Captain Hawtree her real suitor is gas-fitter Sam Gerridge, a Borough Road lad who tells it how it is and doesn’t suffer fools – and inebriated work-shy fathers – gladly. He also indulges in a nice patter of plumbing-pun metaphor. Neil Chinneck is excellent in the role and with his entrepreneurial persona and rags-to- hard-earned- riches ambition Chinneck shows that you don’t have to overplay cockney-comedy to create a believable character and get the laughs.

And then, gliding into the mayhem like a tall ship on a millpond comes George’s Mum – the Marquise de St. Maur. Susan Penhaligon effortlessly appears bedecked with all the grace, poise and venom of a vituperative swan, dismissing commoners with a haughty glance, putting down the little people with a bone-juddering sneer and showing exactly what it takes to be an upper-class cow. Once again, there is no caricature in Penhaligon’s performance just the pure joy of unbridled snobbery.

So we have a bunch of vivacious Victorians about whom Robertson is adept at poking fun, spinning a light but intriguing story around their mores, their loves, their attitudes and their station in society. Robertson is seen as the father of modern staging and broke the mould of fantasy theatre to introduce naturalistic drama, influencing many dramatists in the process. Caste is a great example of his work and Project One deserves major plaudits for bringing it back to the stage.

Review by Peter Yates

1867. George D’Alroy is a soldier and the son of French nobility. Esther Eccles is a beautiful ballet dancer from a poor family. When the two fall in love, two very different families are brought together.

After George leaves to serve in India, Esther must deal with a drunken father, a sister with a fierce temper and a terrifying mother in law. Not knowing whether she will ever see her love again, Esther must confront the class prejudices of Victorian England, whilst coping with the chaos created by her increasingly exasperating family members…

Widely considered both as T. W. Robertson’s masterpiece and a ground-breaking milestone in British theatre, Caste was described by George Bernard Shaw as “epoch-making”, whilst W. S. Gilbert said it “pointed the way for a whole new movement”, and when William Archer and Harley Granville Barker planned the programme for their proposed National Theatre, they were agreed that the mid-Victorian period should be “inevitably represented by its one masterpiece, Caste.”

Read our exclusive interview with Charlotte Peters

Celebrating the 150th anniversary of the Victorian classic CASTE by T. W. Robertson Directed by Charlotte Peters. Designed by Georgia de Grey. Lighting by Robbie Butler. Original music and sound design by Theo Holloway. Presented by Project One Theatre Company in association with Neil McPherson for the Finborough Theatre. Cast: Paul Bradley. Neil Chinneck. Rebecca Collingwood. Isabella Marshall. Duncan Moore. Susan Penhaligon. Ben Starr.

Finborough Theatre, 118 Finborough Road, London SW10 9ED http://ift.tt/NsSQwL

  http://ift.tt/2oFckqT LondonTheatre1.com

[cosmicvacuumgladiators]

CVG Part Deux: Clandestine Void Gods

As a scholar of The Five it is my sworn duty to document the legend of these beings as it unfolds. To this end, I present an excerpt from a book I have written but am yet to write, taken from The Grand Library of the Cataclysm Fragment, which exists outside of time.

Before I can explain what has become of The Five, you must first understand the strange world in which they find themselves.

The island nation of Britain has risen from the sea and declared itself independent from the world, and now hovers inexplicably in the earth’s upper atmosphere. The lack of oxygen resulted in the immediate death of nearly half the population. The Five, as organisms fundamental to the fabric of reality, were unharmed.

Across the ocean, The Man of Spit now sits atop the Aluminum Throne. The world fears this creature for they cannot comprehend how it came to be. Scholars of The Five, of course, know all too well how such a monstrosity could be birthed.

As the old universe collapsed and a new one was born, the bile and excrement of all those who perished congealed in a corner of reality, where it remained for centuries. Decades passed, and The Refuse fed on the sorrow of the world, growing in power and vehemence until it had assimilated enough hatred to become conscious. Then one night, it seeped into the corporeal realm, and found a small boy. The Refuse watched as the child tried tirelessly to insert a square block into a circular hole. He slammed the toys together, over and over, never questioning himself, only growing in frustration that the blocks would not bend to his will. The perfect host for the manifestation of the world’s fallacies. Once the two were bound, they became The Man of Spit that would go on to rule the Americas.

Now, how do The Five (The Many Who are One; The Undying Ones; Those Who Were, Are, and Will Always Be) fit into this world?

Joseph Skrebels: Master of Idiom; The One Who Is SkԶebels; The Fifth Feature; Irregular Joe; Archduke Skrebels VII; Skrebels, the First Lord; He Who Was.

Skrebels once caused the destruction of his reality when he over indulged in the arcane powers of old, preparing for a war that never came. He does not wish to make the same mistake, so has embedded himself with IGGUN, allowing him to exert his influence unseen, without need of the arcane texts. IGGUN is the controlling power in the global cabal of the corrupt, known as the Socialis Ludos, or ‘Games Media’. The organisation uses its power to control the thoughts and beliefs of the masses, and has a presence in every major nation on earth. Britain’s recent ascension to the skies has made Skrebels’ position as Minister of Truth at the UK facility even more influential.

Not content to simply control the country, Skrebels has also attained a key position as part of Regular Features, becoming its fifth member. The organisation is a prominent part of the criminal network which controls the Undercity, a newly formed province situated in the ancient ruins found beneath the city of London. Regular Features is an anarchic presence in the region, undermining the authority of local politicians through Cyber Crimes, testing the sanity of random individuals with endless and unjustifiable attacks, and even occasionally destroying babies who dare to ask their help. It is unknown at this time if Skrebels is truly aligned with such a group, or if he intends to dismantle them from within. Either way, He has a firm grip on both Britain, and the settlements beneath it.  

The Eye Of Skrebels watches for recalcitrance from atop his ivory tower; all who are caught in its gaze are driven into delirium as their minds are flooded with arcane words and abstractions that simply should not be known. As they whimper, The First Lord delves into the deepest recesses of their psyche, seeking the perfect headline for search engine optimisation.

Skrebels sees all. Skrebels knows all. We are at His mercy.

Tamoor Hussain: The Master of Comics; Tamoor, the Skilful; Student of the Eastern Lands: The First Weeb; The Listener; He Who Is.

Upon completion of his interdimensional underground railway, Tamoor left his construction in the capable and numerous hands of his apprentice, Mr. Thaddeus J. Spider. It is my understanding that Thaddeus has expertly maintained and even expanded the underground network, which now serves as a transport line for supplies, soldiers, and TimeJuice™ in the War Without End that continues to rage across the multiverse.

Tamoor then turned his attention once again to the corrupt and brutal world of Games Media, looking to take advantage of the immense wealth and power held by its inhabitants. Through casual lying, immeasurable skill, and Japanese combat tactics, he succeeded, and now stands as Big Boss of UK Operations at Gamespot. Publically, IGGUN and Gamespot are at war, but Skrebels and Hussain ensure that no mission against the other is entirely successful, allowing them to maintain both the perception of division, and their all-encompassing control of the country. The podcast is an Outer Haven of sorts, allowing the two to create #content together without breaking the terms of their blood oaths. Together they ensure Games are not discussed for any longer than is tolerable to the fabric of time.  

As Keeper of the Podcast Sanctum, Hussain controls the broadcast of The Five’s Will. He does not possess the ancient and unknowable abilities of Skrebels, but his position as Keeper means his power over the Listeners may even be greater than that of The First Lord.  

Gareth Dutton: The Master of Photo; Gareth, the Creator; Resistor of Midnight; Gladiator of the Virtual Coliseum; The Elven Lord; Left Head of the Luchador; He Who Will Always Be.

The powers of the Third Master have remained much the same since my last document, save only for the increased rarity of his transformation into the Two Headed Luchador, a result of The Northman’s return to his homeland. Dutton has continued his efforts to establish a dynasty, one that will ensure his influence is felt by the world long after he is gone. His most cognisant offspring, Sam, (not to be confused with the Heretical Beast of the same name) is often brought into the podcast sanctum to train in the art of Very Good Chat. Thus far her contributions have been almost exclusively derived from calling out a crude moniker for excrement without context or reason.

The Books That Are Yet To Be tell of a world long since abandoned by The Five, ruled over by a woman known only as The Queen. Scholars of the future teach that their ruler needs no name, no identifying title, for there has only ever been one such monarch, and she will remain on her throne after even the stars have ceased to be. Some say there are whispers at the edges of time that speak of her true nature, but those who have gone looking return only able to utter one word, over and over in bewildered frustration. “Poo”.  

Chris Scullion: The Master of Shite Horror; The Northman; Lord Scullion, of the Northlands; Exhausted Elderly Fraud; He Who Is Unseen.

The Northman has not been heard on the podcast in many Cycles, leaving many to speculate over his fate. Scholars such as I, however, understand that he has made the pilgrimage back to the land where his energies first coalesced, a journey which is only possible once every three rotations of the Astral Cogs. He lives as a King and a servant to his people, held aloft by their offerings in return for his continued conveyance of divine #content.

Some of my peers in the Abysmal Monastery wish to expunge Scullion from the archives for his absenteeism, but I argue still that as long as The Legless One has a place in these halls, it is only right and just that The Right Head of the Luchador be remembered.    

Sam White: The Legless Demon; Samuel, the Impure; The Ill-made One; The Itch That Cannot Be Scratched; Samwhite, Devourer of Gods; The Vile Sam White; The Pale Scourge; The Blight; The Living Misfortune; He Who Should Not Be.

I have spent many a night writing all I know of this creature, only to awake and find the pages marked with illegible scrawls and wet with tears. No Scholar has ever been able to articulate what they know in writing; only by staring into the eyes of one who has bared witness to him can you even begin to understand the mind-splintering truth. By all laws of decency, nature, the universe and even the Unknown Worlds, Sam White cannot exist. And yet, he does.

At the time of writing, both The Northman and The Legless Demon have been pronounced dead. The official account is that they were “crushed by a skip while kissing”, which caused them to temporarily “forget how to breath”. This is more likely than it sounds, as it is common knowledge among The Five that an effective way to silence The Beast is to cover his speech hole with your own, momentarily taking the eldritch horrors he secretes into one’s own being. Of course no member of The Five can truly be killed, but for the time being, Scullion has removed The Blight’s heinous presence from our minds.

As The Five work to cement their positions of power in the world, their communion in the podcast sanctum has become less frequent. Now, we Scholars simply wait in humble servitude for The Proclamation, secure in the knowledge that whenever it materialises, it shall be truly magnificent, as nothing has been before.

And now I say to you, the reader, that as a resident of this existential plane, you owe it to yourself to partake in this most majestic of broadcasts.

“Ignorance is not a virtue. Listen, and take The Five’s knowledge into your being”

- spoken by the Scholars of the Abysmal Monastery

//Disclaimer: this religious text is not representative of the tone or content of The Podcast. The Five have taken human form and as such are highly capable of engaging in casual discussion and fun repartee.

Recorded in blood by Brother Jacque of the Abysmal Monastery

Transcribed for modern machines by Arthur Shaw