#alice knows much more than she lets on. shes seen something within the government's office that fucked her up.
Text
My feeling right now about the cast
#in some capacity#they all know something fucked up#but sam knows in the most clueless way#breaking it down. sam has seen shit he about the magnus institute he wants to understand because it haunts him#alice knows much more than she lets on. shes seen something within the government's office that fucked her up.#maybe one of her previous coworkers who got fucked up? maybe shes an insider for the group who has the man in black? hmmmm#lena is boss lady probably starkwall related. working beyond her work description. regarding cover ups?#gwen saw stuff her family was privvy to one way or another and wants that power#colin knows about the recordings. saw somw lines if code in the system that fucked him up. ate some keyboards at work idk#and celia? oh boy celia definitely works for aomething pn the putside and infiltrated the govt to gwt some inside stuff.#shes seen and knows it all... whether from tapes or its her she knows about the multiverse#tmagp#the magnus protocol#tmagp spoilers
139 notes
·
View notes
Text
“This is Morgan Winters, Barely Alive on GLNS News!” - Part 1
Hey! Posted this here and on the forum. Those of you who know me there will know this will not be the first time I've posted the first part of a story, promised to deliver more, and then abandoned the project within, like, an hour, but trust me, guys... I'm going to finish this one this time. I can feel it in my bones.
Anyway, something about the concept of a news reporter catching a cold has been weighing on my brain for just the longest time so I bring you this first part, in which our news reporters does *not*, in fact, catch a cold yet.
There is a little bit of sneezing and illness stuff at the end, but this is mostly about setting the scene, establishing some characters. I feel like actually having some kind of plot is a nice minimal standard to achieve with storytelling, but this might be why I'm always too lazy to finish telling them. If I do fail to post the second part of this one, my next story will just be called 'woman with a cold who is sneezing' and will just be about someone, like, going to various places.
With that in mind, do feel free to remind me to pick this up if you actually really want to see where this story (kind of inevitably) ends up going.
And, excuse the poor formatting. It is not my strong suit.
"...and despite facing calls to resign, the counselor has confirmed he'll remain in his post. From GLNS, this is Morgan Winters, back to you Alex."
Morgan yanked the earpiece out from her ear as quickly as she could, and ran a hand through her long black hair.
"How was that?" she asked Derek, from behind the camera, who gave a simple thumbs up in response. "Good," she said. "Now get me out of here. It's fucking freezing, and these old government buildings never seem to have any heating"
"We got a taxi waiting for you outside to get you back to the studio" he replied, as he rewound the footage. "Think we're going to end up back in the van, though, if you ask me. Molly just took a phone call from the boss. Suspect she's going to be looking for you any minute now"
Morgan rolled her eyes and sighed. "Of course she is. What now? World's tallest scarecrow just collapsed? Local teen gets tongue frozen to lampost? Or are we going to interview the mayor's husband again, and hope he's sober enough to string together a full sentence this time?"
Derek shrugged. "I don't commission 'em, Morgan, I just film 'em. You'll have to ask her."
"I'll have to avoid her, more like. I'm going to the office. I have a mountain of work to catch up on. I don't have time to do some twee interview with Farmer Dan about Potatofest '22, or whatever they want from me."
"You do what you want. Taxi's that way, though. Next to the van" Derek replied, smirking, pointing to the east side of the building, and not taking his eyes off of the footage.
Morgan sighed and made her way to the city hall car park. She spied her taxi from across the road and started to walk towards it when she heard her name in an all-too-familiar and all-too-cheerful tone of voice.
"Slow down, Morgan" Molly called out, from behind her. Morgan closed her eyes, silently cursed her luck, and turned around to face Molly, who was dressed in a garnet-red beret, that (in Morgan's humble and, admittedly, uninformed opinion) badly compliment her curly, silver-blonde hair.
"I am so sorry, Molly, I almost forgot to wait for you," she said, forcing herself to smile.
"That's alright, I'd just disappeared to make a quick phone call" Molly replied. "From the station," she said after a slightly uncomfortable pause.
"Oh, they're always bothering us while we're busy. Well, I best be going, I need to get back to the--"
"Could you do me a favor, Morgan?"
Morgan gritted her teeth, her green eyes lightly glazing over as Molly carried on.
"You see," Molly continued barely registering Morgan's expression, "the public health department just got in touch. It's that time of year when colds and such things are going around, you see. So, the department was wondering if we could send a reporter down to a local physician's to do a quick cold and flu safety report"
Morgan shook her head. "No, Molly, no, absolutely not. I told you, I'm done with these... nothing reports. I'm a serious journalist, alright? I have a degree-- two degrees! Two degrees, I have a Bachelors in Communication, and a Masters in Media and Journalism, okay? I should be covering far more serious topics than this. Health- public health isn't even something I know anything about. Can't you ask Alice to do it?"
"We did ask Alice to do it!" Molly replied.
"And?"
"She can't"
"Why not?"
"Caught a cold."
Morgan rolled her eyes. "Well, what about Steve or Michael? They should be grateful for any work at this point, to be honest"
"No, look, the department wants *you*. They've seen you! They think you have a really down-to-earth personality and a great presentation style. Perfect for delivering this kind of message."
Morgan paused. "They asked for me?"
"Yes"
"...and they think I have a great presentation style?"
"Absolutely"
"And a down-to-earth personality?"
"Yeah, maybe. Anyway, look, if you do this, there's sure to be some more work coming your way. Good work, too. Not these fluff pieces, not these interviews with outraged retirees. You get to do what you want."
Morgan really thought about it. "...No more local food and culture festivals?"
"No more anything, just pure you."
"...Fine. Fuck you, but... fine." Morgan replied. "When do they want me?"
Molly looked at her watch and looked back up at Morgan. "Half an hour ago."
--------
It was not often that Morgan got to visit the more affluent side of town. She lived pretty far from here, and the people who did live here were wealthy enough to keep the cameras away from their neighborhood. While she wasn't thrilled about this assignment, she couldn't help but gawp at the mini-mansions, and luxury restaurants that lined the streets.
Still, all the money and lawyers in the world couldn't keep out the common cold. Almost every face she could spot from the van, was adorned with a red nose, or a tissue pressed tightly against it. Morgan shifted uncomfortably in her seat, as she turned her head towards her phone. She was really starting to regret this.
After a short drive, in which Molly had to negotiate with an incredibly congested toll-booth operator, the van pulled up outside the district's medical center. Derek scrambled out of the van to get the equipment ready, while Morgan and Molly went inside to meet the nurse they were going to be interviewing.
"Hey," Morgan said approaching the receptionist at the front desk, who was busy scribbling some notes into a pad. "Morgan Winters, I'm with GLNS news. This is Molly, I was told you both spoke on the phone about an interview?"
The receptionist looked up from her notepad and something instantly struck Morgan about her appearance. The long, wavy red hair, Morgan had already noticed from a distance. The bright blue eyes were distinctive but didn't immediately catch her notice. No, Morgan's attention was right away drawn to the sore, red rim that ran around the woman's nostrils, that was accentuated by the sudden and thick sniffle she gave.
"One moment..." she muttered, barely managing those precious m's and n's that would have lent clarity to what she said. She casually reached over a small PA system on her desk.
"Ndurse Halloway? GLNS are here" she muttered, or something to that effect, at least. Some tinny, staticky voice gave a robotic reply, and the receptionist looked back up to Morgan.
"Just take a seat with the oh-others... ih-ISHIEW!"
Morgan was grateful that the receptionist was able to grab a tissue. Still, she would have liked it all the more if the receptionist had actually managed to bring it to her nose, some time before letting out the surprising sneeze.
"Ugh... 'scuse mbe" she mumbled, using the barely touched tissue to blow her already sore nose. "Was the last one standing up until I came in this m-mordi-ih...it'SHIEW!" she sneezed again, clearly an aftershock from the previous sneeze, but this time, thankfully, with the tissue ready to catch it.
'Last one standing...' Morgan mentally repeated with a degree of exasperation, before directing Molly to sit beside her in the waiting room.
"We better make this quick, alright? I'm already regretting every second of this..." she whispered to her assistant, as the woman beside her, blew her nose for the fourteenth time.
"Why, what's wrong?" she asked
"What do you mean, what's wrong? This place is gross. I feel gross. I want to go back to the office, where it's... I mean still gross, but less gross than this"
"Oh, hush. Don't worry about it, it's just a quick interview, bit of filming of... doctor-y things, and we can do the V/O back at the studio"
"I don't know how you can be so calm about this" Morgan snapped, as the man next to Molly launched into a coughing fit. Molly simply shrugged.
"I'm not bothered. I had my flu shot" she said, confidently.
"Do flu shots protect against colds?" asked Morgan
Molly paused for a moment.
"I mean, yeah, of course, they do. They're basically the same thing. Wouldn't be much point in a flu vaccine if you're just going to get a cold anyway, surely!"
Morgan was skeptical, but before she could open her mouth to object, she heard her name called from the reception.
"Ms. Widters?" the receptionist asked, holding a tissue to her nose as she spoke. "Ndurse Halloway will see you both dow..." she managed, before sneezing three more times into the tissue. As she pulled it away, Morgan winced at how sore and red her nose was starting to look. At that point, Morgan realized that there was nothing she could do to protect herself. From the moment she walked into the health center, she was a dead woman walking.
4 notes
·
View notes
Text
The Office of the President, Hall of Congress
Shady Sands, New California Republic
Yulia Arteaga sat in her office chair, fiddling with the Two Headed Bear Flag pin between her fingers. She unclasped it, bringing it up to her chest so that she might wear it at her heart, as was customary. It was a gift from her predecessor, a symbol of office. She wanted nothing of Kimball’s and she refused to watch as her staff moved his portrait into storage, replacing it with a painting to rival it, depicting her own visage. She stood for four hours so that the artist they commissioned, someone from her home state, the Boneyard, could accurately transfer her image to the canvas. She wore the pin in the painting too, a detail added afterwards. It had originally belonged to President Tandi, the Great Mother, before being passed along to Tibbett, Peterson, Kimball, and now her. It was a symbol of office, no matter what she wore, as long as she carried that pin it was like she like she radiated with the commanding aura of high office. Her predecessor, now retired against his will to some ranch outside the Hub, preferred old world style suits where as Yulia was often accused of looking something like a cross between a field hand and a factory worker. She liked the brahmin leather vest her Bear Flag was now pinned to, and the earthy tones of her checkered button up and slacks. She wore the same outfit in the painting. The artist thought it fitting, she was the young populist who was taking California by storm. Her majority in Congress was secure, now that Chief Hanlon won the race in Redding and was now Senator Hanlon. She was going to need the allies in the months to come as it became apparent making peace was far more complicated than making war. A detail Kimball neglected to mention when he handed over the keys to the Republic. Her train of thought was interrupted when the door to her office flew open.
“Yulia! You’ll never believe it. Dennis Crocker agreed to stay on until the drafting process for the treaty is finished. It’s just like you said, maybe he really is different from those other Kimball holdovers after all. He thinks you should meet with Chief Executive-” It was her aid, Maxim. He had been with her since her days as a labor organizer in Adytum. He managed her campaign for an Angel’s Boneyard council seat and didn’t even ask for an appointment to some cushy job in the bureaucracy. Although, being aide to the president came with similar guarantees of job security and long term financial security.
“It’s Madame President now, Maxim.” She made the deals, led the censure, and cast the first vote of Kimball’s downfall. She earned her position. Now she just had to keep it, and that meant any deal with New Vegas had to insure the lights stayed on. At least until the project she arranged with the Followers of the Apocalypse was complete. It would be funny if it wasn’t so frustrating. The Mojave Campaign was Kimball’s war, and he lost his job over it. Now it seemed most of her job was picking up the pieces, when she had campaigned on an extensive program promising to fix the many problems at home.
“The answer is no. I’ll give it my signature, but Crocker can shake that man’s hand. He knows if the deal screws us, I’ll screw him harder. I like the good Ambassador, but if he expects to come back to a career he has to earn it. Speaking of which, draw me up a list of candidates to take his place once the negotiations are finished. If his plan does work I’ll want him running for a seat here in the next election. I know Thaler’s will soon be up for grabs, and he might act like a friend, but we all know he didn’t vote with us when we got rid of Kimball. His days on the council are numbered.”
“Yes, Madame President. My apologies Madame President. I will send out word to the State Department to have a list drawn up at once. As for Councilman Thaler, we should avoid alienating him until after the vote tomorrow. He has been more than supportive of the Crimson Caravan inquiry. Alice McLafferty was forced out of her post in the Mojave branch, it’s practically an admission of guilt on their part. If he thinks we intend to endorse someone else for his seat, he could end up voting with Senator Morales. And if Morales rallies the governors then they will certainly shut down the investigation and shut down this investigation” her aide said with great uncertainty. She couldn’t blame him for his skepticism. Aaron Kimball was wildly popular until he wasn’t. All Yulia had to do was alienate the wrong person and she could lose her majority. Then it would be all over.
“Have a little more confidence in me, Maxim. I didn’t win the Presidency for the novelty of it. I intend to hold on to this seat for as long as I can. The people aren’t so fickle as to turn on me yet. Thaler will vote for me because if he doesn’t again, then it is a certainty he will lose his seat. I might have been a councilor for Adytum, but I was born in Shady Sands. Now I represent all of California. And it’s about some time someone stood up to the merchant houses. And don’t call the representatives from Hub that, their heads are already big as it is” She was right, and Maxim knew it too when she said it. Yulia had always spoken truth to power, and now she was the power. Not the only one, granted. That’s just how it was in democracies. Still, that wouldn’t stop her from using the authority she was given to hold her colleagues to account.
“We can discuss tomorrow’s vote later. There’s still a lot of other work to be done. Have we received a report from General Hsu yet? What’s the status of the withdrawal?” Military matters were the one aspect of governing she was new to. She had coordinated with the military in the past, back in Adytum during one of the multiple operations against the raider gangs that are pervasive in the Boneyard. Yet she only ever acted as a point of contact then, now she was Commander in Chief.
Maxim cleared his throat, “Slowly, but surely Madame President. The General and the Ambassador were able to convince the new management in New Vegas to allow a handful of our forces to remain at the Dam and watch over our civilian personnel that will stay there. Long term arrangements haven’t been decided yet, but the General is unsure of the prudence in leaving the Dam in the hands of those... robots. He seems uncertain if we even have a choice in the matter. You’ve already seen the projections. A renewed conflict is not likely to be in our electoral interests. As for the full withdrawal to Mojave Outpost, we are expecting the last of our forces to be safely within the border in three weeks time.”
“Sooner we conclude this business the better. What of the Legion? The rangers set out after the battle to scout their territory and I’ve yet to see a report land on my desk. I would hate to leave our new friends on the Strip defenseless against such savages.” Yulia folded her arms, leaning back against the desk.
“The robots were actually quite thorough in their assault on Fortification Hill. The military seems to think the enemy was quite completely demolished. Caesar had died three months earlier, reportedly of a botched attempt to remove tumors from his brain. As for the rest of the Legion’s leadership, they are all believed to have perished in the battle.” Now he was just rehashing what she already knew.
“What about the east? Arizona... New Mexico. Those places. I recall from the archives we sent scouts out that way decades ago. There are people out there. The Legion’s people. What will happen to them?” That was the real question. If Kimball had succeeded, if the NCR had annexed New Vegas, would they have been next? Would the NCR have kept going? Just like the old world. That she didn’t like to imagine.
“Our commanders speculate what is left of the Legion will converge on Flagstaff. That I suppose you would call the Legion’s capital. It’s also where Caesar left his heirs, supposedly. General Hsu has assured us that the Legion isn’t a threat to the Mojave, let alone us here in California.” Maxim knew as much as she did. They would both be left to wonder until the rangers they sent east reported in. It could be months, and that’s if any of them managed to cross back over the Colorado.
The Mojave Campaign began decades ago, back then the NCR only had to contend with the same raider tribes they had been fighting and beating for generations. Jackals, Vipers, Khans, all scattered to the wastes. The war with the Legion only began in 2277 when their warband attempted to seize Hoover Dam the first time. All the while her country was being bled try. More lives and more money than she could imagine. Costlier than every other war fought in California combined. Not mentioned in official reports, the rumor was General Lee Oliver died not at the hands of the Legion, but after the battle had already ended. Thrown off of the side of the dam by one of the robots that now defended New Vegas. She chose not to ask if it was true when she received her first briefing from the military, after all it allowed blame for the defeat to fall squarely on Kimball’s shoulders. And he deserved it. She wouldn’t make his mistakes.
“I can’t tell if we were lucky, or unlucky. We won the battle and still lost the war.” She chuckled at the irony, at the sheer stupidity of it all. “We saved the damn... dam, and it doesn’t even seem like we’ll be able to keep it. First we get strung along by the seemingly-immortal Mr. House, and now we’re negotiating with a former Vault dweller with a gambling addiction? We clearly didn’t play our cards right, even though for all intents and purposes we had a winning hand.”
Maxim nodded in agreement, ever willing to play the sycophant. “Poor governance ultimately makes for poor policy decisions, Madame President. I believe you will lead us towards a much brighter future. One where the people of New Vegas are our friends, not subjects.”
“Friends? We’ll just see what terms Crocker wins for us. I’ve no intention of getting us into another war, if that’s what your concern is. Still need to see about making states out of the territories up north before I go looking for more outside of our borders. Congress can’t deny the territories real representation forever. We give Arroyo and Klamath statehood, and I won’t have to worry about losing my majority for as long as I’m President.” She sighed, “First we need to see about officially ending this war and bringing our men and women in uniform back from the front. Once the withdrawal is complete we’ll set up the podium in front of the statue of Tandi in Republic Square. It won’t just be to welcome the troops home, but another state of the republic address.”
“Very good, Madame President. I also brought that report you requested last week. It took some time for the rangers to compile it. This one’s complete at least. I thought you would want to have a look at it before the committee did.” On the desk next to Yulia, her aide placed a folder that was so full of paper that it was nearly as thick as some of the books in her office.
Yulia took one look at the folder’s contents, thumbing through the various pages of eye witness testimony collected in the Mojave and official statements by other officials in the NCR. This one file alone would could take up the rest of her afternoon just to read. “One question, Maxim.” She pursed her lips, her curiosity piqued.
“What’s that Madame President?”
“Who the hell is this Courier?”
1 note
·
View note
Text
SUtD Seeks Star-Crossed Lovers, BEIC, Missionaries, Teachers, & More
Site Name and Link: Sufficient Unto the Day
Site Genre: Historical
Site info: April thru May. Summer 1797. The British possess the glorious bustle of Visakhapatnam which nestles in the state of Andhra Pradesh in India. The French and Sultanate lurk to regain the hold over the city while 19th century looms ahead. Which side will you choose?
Your name: Tabs
Contact info: Reach out via on site want ads & their OPs, or to the site staff in PM or on Discord.
Role(s) requested:
Wedding Season
Site Event related want ads
Wedding Season is in full swing within Vizag and all across the state of Andhra Pradesh! Some say this occurrence of auspicious time for arrangements is as sudden as an unexpected loss of a star from heaven. Others feel it was an ordained hour, only waiting to be discovered by the clever. With every match comes a benefit. Will it be the joy of lovers? Will it be the hope of new alliance in families? Perhaps you come merely for the business of the thing -- new resources, new political matches, better futures through the age old art of marriageable pawns.
The following adoptables feature a variety of pick ups! Will you be a member of British or European colonial society? A BEIC company man or a member of the military looking for adventure? Perhaps you come from the Nizam’s court in Hyderabad looking to stretch the influence of family and court. Are you among the higher castes looking to form alliances with anti-colonial factions? Take a character. Choose a destiny. See where you stand!
The Colonials of Andhra Pradesh
Alexander James Cathcart, age 50 (ish), Rufus Sewell or Pierce Brosnan
Scottish, merchant, adventurer, opportunist
IC Connections: Kamil Azrak(son), Caroline Newbury(daughter), BEIC, possibly Little Palace
An adventurer at heart, Alexander has many stories to tell. He is a Scotsman of Lanarkshire ilk, his family's trade rooted in the Levant company from the 1750s. Alexander, although his Scot's accent is thick, has never seen much of Scotland, nor does he feel homesick for his country. Instead, he is a man who always pushes on and forward, seeking out new pleasures and treasures across the globe. This is one of the reasons why he is in India. He wants to seek his fortune.
But he has left something behind. He is a man of secrets, and although his family rarely talk of his past, Alexander thinks of it often. In the 1760s in Syria, Alexander had a love affair with a Muslim woman, Taruh Azrak. They escaped. They hid. They loved. They had pushed all boundaries. One boundary was pushed too far, and Taruh fell pregnant with his child, soon to be his only son, Kamil. With fear hot on his heels and prospects dying, the Scot fled to East India to join the BEIC, where he picked up an assortment of trades. Currently, his eye has been drawn to the trade of opium. Alexander is an opportunist, a good humoured man and with a heavy heart of guilt. He is currently married and has a daughter, Caroline (soon to be adopted by Livie), and as for his other child? He is right in Visakhapatnam, looking for him. Little do they both know they are like one another - they are men who seek adventure, who fear and relish every step along the way.
For more details, particularly ideas for future plots, or if interested, see Alexander’s wanted here!
Lucinda Camden, age Early 20s, FC Open
Society Daughter, Engaged to Reginald Oaks, Schemer, Social Queen
IC Connections: BEIC (Connected Family), Anglo-Indian/British Society, Featured Bride to be in "The Camden and Oaks Betrothal Party"
The pearl of her parent's world and everything a well brought up British woman should be, Lucinda Camden has lacked for nothing while growing up under the auspices of colonial rule. Her father is a high ranking official within the Honourable Company. Her mother was an exceptional catch, arranged while they were young so that her dowry would come soundly into his pocket. This paired with company business has made the Camden family so wealthy that they can afford to have their noises thrust up into the air. Lucinda's is so high up it is amazing she can see down it at all. But she doesn't let the world know that. Every presentation is the perfect hostess, the modest maiden, the cleverness and prettiness to just the right point. Her goal in life is to not only marry Reginald Oaks, but to aspire to the heights of Waltair society just as they did in Chowringhee, Bombay enclave, to the point of owning the rights of entry. She keeps many secrets, none closer than the fact her betrothed is engaged in illegal activities to increase his fortune. How much of their love is for show?
Reginald Oaks, age Mid-to-Late 20s, FC Open
BEIC Cavalry Officer, Engaged to Lucinda Camden, False Star, Smuggler
IC Connections: BEIC Military (Cavalry Officer, Rank Open), BEIC (Connected Family), Anglo-Indian/British Society, featured in "The Camden and Oaks Betrothal Party"
The most dashing man that has ever ridden on a horse now has come to Vizag, by way of the colonial enclave of Waltair. To hear his fiance speak of it, there is nothing this man wouldn't do for his company, his country, God, or king. The consummate gentleman, he exudes charm, humor, wit, and humility. A gentleman just never be too boastful. He always has a care for the ladies and is even seen as fair in his dealings with the native heathens. His family has long been vested in the Company, especially via a military tradition. So this, paired with the Camden's civil service, made them stars in Chowringhee. Now, with a promotion on the rise he is set to become one here. A wonderful bride. A grand career. What more could a man want? More money to pay off a secret list of debts that could outweigh his own inherited fortune because of his penchant for gambling. How does one get such funds? Smuggling opium, tea, and whatever else he can get over sea and hill.
Nathaniel Ainsworth, age 17-18, FC Open
Son, Ainsworth Heir, American
IC Connections: Yazdin Sarbh, Main Plot Feature in “Fires At Midnight”
Nathaniel is the only child of Sir James and Alice Ainsworth. Thus, he is the heir to the Ainsworth fortune. The fortune is rooted in the American tobacco trade, but his father had turned the wheel and diversified to spices not long before the American War of Independence. Connections are strong through money and blood. and a young Nathaniel is still finding his feet as the future head of the Ainsworth household. He has a love-hate relationship with India. The heat troubles him and he is very often homesick. However Nathaniel is smitten by the young Parsi woman Yazdin Sarbh. Unlike his sweetheart, Nathaniel lacks courage, and his desire for Yazdin rocks his confidence in what means to be an Ainsworth. Does he have roots or wings? Nathaniel is described as a strong young man with strong features. His hair is fair to light brown and he has light eyes.
He is featured in “Fires at Midnight” as an NPC character alongside Yazdin Sarbh. His background with Yazdin is still a mystery. Perhaps you can pave their past as well as their future?
Edward Oxford, age 26, Christian Slater
2nd Son of an Earl, Brother, Uncle
IC Connections: Nicholas & Catherine Oxford, British Nobility, British Society
Younger brother of Nicholas Oxford. Being the younger one allows him to be more free and careless. Like Nicholas, Edward is well mannered and educated; Oxford University graduate. However, his heart is set on a certain English Rose named Mary Jane. Careless and Free; and at times immature. Edward is loyal to his older brother and to his family. He is close to Nicholas and will seek his counsel where required. He can also be a flirt when it suits him. Outside of this, character is open to be created as seen fit. For more details, particularly ideas for future plots, or if interested, see Oxford family wanted here!
George William Smyttan the Younger, age 27, FC Open
Rogue Son & Brother, BEIC Navy, Navy Position Upto Player
IC Connections: Smyttan Family, BEIC, BEIC Navy, British Society
What his chosen profession within the Navy is, is up to the player. He is the eldest son, true, but not the most responsible nor a totally serious man. He's chosen a life of hedonism when he is not playing at being a functional adult within the ranks of the company. If interested, or for further details, see Smyttan Family wanted here!
The Natives of Andhra Pradesh
Yazdin Sarbh, age 17-18, FC Open
Daughter, Parsi
IC Connections: Nathaniel Ainsworth, Main Plot Feature in “Fires At Midnight”
Yazdin is the second youngest sister of the Sarbh family and the love interest of English-born Nathaniel Ainsworth. She is Parsi-born and a child of the Zoroastrian faith. Although described as adventurous with a childlike streak by her family, Yazdin faces the world with bravery and ambition. The world is her canvas, and her path is unknown. Will she find a future with her sweetheart Nathaniel, or will she follow her family’s principles and marry a Parsi? She is described as a dainty young woman with a curvaceous frame. Her hair is a black-brown which springs into loose ringlets.
She is featured in “Fires at Midnight” as an NPC character, alongside Nathaniel Ainsworth. How Yazdin and Nathaniel met is still a mystery. What is their story? What is in store for them?
British East India Company
Soldiers, Medical Officers, Marines & Civil Servants
These are the men who take up the call to keep broad and long the reach of the British Empire through the Honorable British East India Company and the Bombay Marines. From the top ranking officer to the lowest ranking one, from the long careered civil servant to the man just beginning his adventure, there is a place for everyone! Will you march over tropical climes, rivers, and through deserts? Perhaps you are a man who seeks to be a civil servant risen from a mere clerk. This arm of trade doubles also as the governing body, keeping Visakhapatnam free from the grasps of the French, The Maratha Empire, and the Nizam's reach from Hyderabad. [note: some positions for BEIC didn’t post; can’t figure out why it wouldn’t so please visit the on-site want ad linked for reference to see others.]
Infantry, Cavalry, Artillery, Medical Officers
Representative of the military forces of the Honorable Company's occupation, keeping both the trade ways open, any competition on the field at bay, and performing duties as assigned. All ranks are available as well for original character applications, from the lowest cadet to captain and beyond — unless stated otherwise.
Studious career-military man residing in India for 2 years. Newly appointed to the Waltair Cantonment. 30s. FC Open. (Field Marshal)
Dissolute clergyman’s son banished to the BEIC military by his father via purchased commission in hopes he’ll shape up. 20s. FC Open. (2d Lieutenant. Commissioned Officer)
Tireless Sepoy with a dark past. Mid-30s to 40s. FC Open. (Sepoy is a native position)
Surgeons - Infantry, cavalry, and artillery. Also two in the Waltair hospital under the supervision of Army Master Surgeon, Dr. Smyttan.
Assistants/Apothecaries - Several in three branches(infantry, cavalry, artillery), and four in Waltair Hospital.
Civil Servants
Not everyone is meant to march in step or ride the waves, but that doesn't mean these men don't have a part to play. Everyone from clerks to tradesmen, chaplains to writers, naturalists who study the local plants and animals to the natives who are employed as language teachers, judges, and bailiffs. Featured are more direct company roles related to trade, but there are room for naturalists, botanists, chaplains, artists, and more!
Writer: Unnamed. Introvert looking for a challenge. 20s. FC Open.
Tide Waiter: Unnamed. Hardworking, good with numbers and organization. 20s-40s. FC Open. Could potentially be useful in the BEIC connected Warehouse Raid & Treasures from the Sea plots.
Chaplain(s): Unnamed
BEIC Civil Servant. Available Position(s). FCs Open.
IC Connections: BEIC, British Society, St. Christopher’s By the Sea
These are the missionaries that end up working with the BEIC even though they may get some hassle from the Company itself. Some became part of the BEIC due to their skills as translators.
Warehouse Manager: Unnamed
BEIC Civil Servant. Available Position. FC Open.
IC Connections: BEIC, British Society, The Campbells(Kendrew & Liliana), Featured in “Camden & Oaks Betrothal Party”
30s. Scotsman who tends to be a little paranoid, especially about his secret gambling debts, who is having a rough time at work given the recent incidents and the rumors circulating that he might lose his job. His wife, Margaret, spends a lot of money trying to keep up with society adding to his stress.
Pre-requisite: Involvement in the Warehouse Raid & Treasures from the Sea plots as the position of this character is important in the plot.
Bombay Marines
The men who crew the famous East Indiamen ships serve the purpose of protecting the trade routes by maintaining armed ships for trade and escort, sailing the seas and rivers. They are also used for mapping coastlines and rivers all across India and Asia, while serving as an additional guard force for coastlines, harbors, and docksides. Climb the rigging as a seamen while learning the ropes to advance in standing. Cook a meal, keep the candles in stock, or pray that the storm never touches the sails. Join the wardroom officers in making decisions, or look over the long night as a member of the watch. All positions and ranks are open though those featured below are not all that’s available. Currently there are 3 ships in play: Calcutta Star, Princess of India, & King’s Glory with current priority given to filling roles aboard Calcutta Star. Below is listed available positions.
[For some reason the Bombay Marines list won’t paste in here, so for that listing please see the link below labeled ‘please reference’ to go to the want ad on-site.]
If interested in these wanted, and to learn more on positions, please reference and/or post in THIS thread. For a full reference, please visit following links for a complete list of offices and definitions: BEIC & Bombay Marines.
The Pricha & St. Laurence Household
Family & Servants
The home of Master Pricha, Noble and Private Diplomat, for Siam and the Yorkshire Fellowship. His wife, Madame Pricha, who servers as his translator, adviser, and holds sway over the Fellowship. Their high ranking servants are often Fellowship members, with rich histories of their own, including more open-ended adoptable choices and involved backstories to fill in and create in deeper contexts. The family members range from understanding the deep activities of their kinsmen, to participating in them, and having secrets of their own. The Master and Madame are used as private diplomats/cultural consultants by the East India Company, with other kinsmen listed having a history of Company roles.
Ram Pricha, 22, Daniel Wu(Suggested; FC must be Asian)
Brother to Aurelius Pricha
IC Connections: Pricha & St. Laurence Family, Features in "We Shatter"
Ram is very much the signature Siamese in the belief of 'sanuk' (playfulness) and 'mai pen rai' (no worries) when he is at home with his brother and family. He is very good at utilizing his youthfulness to put people at ease and let them underestimate him and his ability to read a situation. In a family of diplomats who served many kings, Ram learned fast. Where his eldest brother is stern and holds a neutral expression, Ram makes use of raised eyebrows, harmless jokes, and insightful revelations. He is very good at several fighting forms, most particularly sparring with Aurelius and Claramae in Krabi krabong fighting (this comes into play for a later plot, too). He speaks Thai, but has quite a bit fluency in Chinese and Hindi, with some broken English. I have very weak knowledge of Thai language, so this can be played with English writing, seriously.
His hair is dark, his body is wiry in build and strength. The middle names and the PB (Asian!) are up to the player, as well as the rest of the personality, history, quirks, and other various secrets. While Aurelius and Ram both have a shared family and some shared history, Aurelius was gone a lot so that leaves a lot of gaps in Ram's history to fill in up until this point.
Character sought by Kay of SUtD, being advertised on her behalf so please reach out to her on the RP site via the on site want ad.
Lord Byron Gregory St. Laurence I, age 52-56, Tim Roth(Suggested)
Uncle, Brother of Richard St. Laurence, Retired Navy, Yorkist, Architect, Land Surveys
IC Connections: Pricha & St. Laurence Family, Yorkshire Fellowship, BEIC, Helvetius Intrepid Society(possibly)
The story of the St. Laurence brothers is as wide as a net can cast. Why? A father was gifted with bright, brilliant young men. Other members of the family took keen interest in one another’s children. It wasn’t just rank and position they cared about, but education, preserving lands and titles for future generations, and continuing the tradition of excellence that their name belied. Where his elder brother Richard took to the Royal Navy and advisement on ships for military and mercantile use within the British East India Company all of his days? Byron took to the other tradition of their father after his service in the navy concluded due to injury: land surveys, architecture, and civic improvement. He is a voice for beautifying London to meet the coming of the new age, and a voice sought after for projects in the colonies to bring a touch of Europe to the far off lands. Naturally, this is wrapped in his advisement on manners to which he is sought after on.
He goes to India again not only to visit his niece and meet the family he has not seen in some time, but to also take up a post among the Yorkists as he once had in Bombay. He was one of those men who gathered in chairs over dusty books on a dusty day. He also finds himself among the deeper end of the equation, with a specialty for cracking codes, a skill he shares with his sister-in-law by Richard, Liadan. The oddity of his niece’s life choices only amuses him, with his own wife being born in the East Indies, the daughter of descended rich gentry who purchased a peerage. It is said there are a few shades of tawny in her lineage, too! Open to writer figuring out the specific style of his BEIC service, and if he seeks to resume any such posts again in his later years!
Lady Katherine Anne Dennery, age 30-32, Clemence Poesy
"Kitty Anne", Cousin, Poet, Yorkist, Widow, Bluestocking
IC Connections: Pricha & St. Laurence Family, Possible Long-lost Love(if interested), The Yorkshire Fellowship, Yorkist’s Club
If ever there was a woman in the family that Claramae was close to other than her own mother and great-grandmother? It was Katherine Anne, or “Kitty Anne” as she was always affectionately called. Claramae was never afraid to laugh with her, or tell her the things she studied or longed for. She has longings, too, having treated Claramae as something of a sister due to the fact her own sister died when early childhood was just coming to a close. The epitome of the sweet, gentle woman of the day, it hides a much deeper sense of self. While much of her light can be kept under a bushel? Katherine is quite intelligent, benefitting from the family’s model of tutelage extended to young women, even cousins of differing names. She has several hobbies, including a love affair with Italian poetry and art.
Claramae’s placid face is also no bother to her, for she can be very similar at times, nothing overstated or understated in expression. She came to Calcutta with her husband who died of cholera. With her mourning at its end, she elected to continue on in life’s adventure, turning correspondence into nearness by taking up residence alongside her cousin in Waltair. She represents a story of colonial womanhood, being brave enough to take the journey and to bring those aspects of society that women take with them.
For the possible long-lost love connection part mentioned in IC Connections, and general plans for it, contact Tabs of SUtD.
Sir Edward "Iron Hand" St. Laurence, 29-35 , Eddie Redmayne
Fighter, Friend, Cousin, Yorkist, Senior Merchant
IC Connections: Pricha & St. Laurence Families, BEIC, Yorkshire Fellowship, Mystery of the Warehouse Raids(BEIC Plot)
Edward has had many adventures in life, the extent of which are waiting for his writer to fill in. However, what can be said of the son of Byron Gregory is that he had a terrible habit for getting into trouble until it damn near cost him his life. What it cost him was the full function of his hand without mechanical assists. Though he had dreams of a military career, youthful folly and the adaptability of his hand rather changed the course of those stars. He is particularly close to the St.Laurence siblings though they did not see one another near as much as they would have liked due to the business of their fathers. He was a dear friend of Claramae's brother James Paul, if not second only to both Claramae and Aurelius themselves.
A legacy of James' brilliance and Claramae's cleverness with math and parts lives on in how his damaged left hand is able to move with the help of the a metal hand assist whose rings he keeps oiled so one does not here him creaking about. He turns instead to India to recover a bit of ailing health and participate in the growing of his coffers to make up for the debt to the family holdings in his house. A good man by nature, he has taken hold to the Orient with a great fever and when he is not overseeing things as a Senior Merchant for the British East India Company? He studies Eastern Religion and Art, to which he has plans to take up one of them for his own. Your choice of which particular religion he fancies to practice, between Hinduism and Buddhism, and which ones he enjoys studying as part of the local/Asian culture.
If interested in these wanteds, the Yorkshire Fellowship, or the Yorkist’s Club please post in THIS thread.
The Leveque and Obray Family
A family of Academics, Priests, Missionaries, and Travelers, representing both French and Chinese cultural, religious, and missional history by utilizing the last years of the Jesuits, French Foreign Missions, and the French Revolution. Also seeking teachers and servants for the L'école Leveque (read forum description), a dame school overseen and run by this Catholic family. This family is also connected with the local Catholic church and the parish activities of St. Christopher's by the Sea
Amiee Leveque, age 28, Zoey Deschanel(Suggested)
Sister, Aunt, Widow, Tutor, Teacher
IC Connections: Leveque Family, L'école Leveque Dame School, Main Plot Feature in “Burning Day”
The oldest of the Leveque sisters born outside of Paris like her father, Barthelemy, was, half-sister is a term that would never do to describe Aimee's relationship to Eirian. The two might as well have shared the same womb! Her mother died at a young age, leaving her father heart broken. Throwing himself in to his work, she became his connection to the world at large, his littlest adventurer, his companion. While having no memories of her own mother, she lacked for nothing under the love and guidance of her stepmother, Ebrain. Memories of life in Wales and France are with her, though the great majority of her story after age ten began during the years in and around Peking, China. She thrived on challenges, surmounting them with a warm smile, inspiring words, and beauty. Like her sister Eirian, she is a teacher in the school and a tutor. Her list of talents include needlework and playing piano, as well as the impressive Orient skills of Speaking and Reading Manchu and Chinese, playing the erhu and flute, calligraphy, watercolor painting(all of the Chinese style of course) and playing Go. To the Western end of things, she also thrives in several languages and shares her Uncle Gwyilliam's love for mathematics.
At the age of 20, she wed a young Chinese convert in what would prove to be two permissible marriages of this sort with her sister taking the second. Tragically, injury and infection would pull her husband from this world in under a year's time, with no children left of the match. While in Paris in her adult years, she served as a governess to a family found by a man who claimed to be a "Friend" but was left nearly beaten with her virtue stolen. While the events of Paris have stayed with her? India heals as she throws herself head long in to learning local languages and history with her family, teaching, or chasing after her capricious niece.
Gwyilliam Obray, age 44, Dylan McDermott(Suggested)
Brother, Uncle, Great Uncle, Secular Priest, Mathematician, Scientist
IC Connections: Leveque Family, L'école Leveque Dame School, St. Christopher’s By the Sea(parish), Main Plot Feature in “Burning Day”
Gwyilliam had never wanted to be anything more than a priest, and happened to stumble in to his scholarly pursuits along the way. He had served in the Orient for many years by the time the suppression of the Jesuits came to pass. It was a sad thing to him, for they represented a way of teaching God and seeing the world that did not remove a person's host culture. By the time it all came to pass, he had returned to what was now a combined home with his fellow brother in spirit, and now by law, Jacq! God works in mysterious ways does he not? Just as he joined to be friends with the man in the Orient, it would be that their sister and brother, Ebrain and Barthelemy, wed in the West. Along with Father Louis de Poirot, they became a trio of Jesuits who remained in favor of the Emperor. Even if they were not, by holy law, Jesuits any longer? It was what they would always be called. Skilled in mathematics and science, he took to the history of the Church in the Orient with zeal. He read through the science of the country, finding things in the East the West had only began to touch on. A man of many opinions, it sees him author many books and being in the habit of teaching older male students the art of debate.
Returning to the West proved the hardest thing him and his family had ever done. The Catholic nation of France had then become secular, the Church dismantled, and priests had become servants of the state. Beliefs once held up saw him beaten. Schools he had gone to now closed. He tutored to help the family survive, and though sworn to serve the state of France? In secret, he continued to teach catechism to those who would ask. England proved a little better, but he was glad to return to the far side of the world. He is now a priest with no real order, having taken no new vows, and is happy in secular service. Like his fellow brother-in-law, he assists the family by balancing books, teaching, and tutoring. It is not uncommon to hear him clapping his hands or going "No that is not it!" in his debates, or being toppled down by his great niece.
Jacq Gabriel Leveque, age 50, Russell Crowe(Suggested)
Brother, Uncle, Great Uncle, Secular Priest, Historian
IC Connections: Leveque Family, L'école Leveque Dame School, St. Christopher’s By the Sea(parish)
Jacq was the brother far more strong, steadfast, and stable on his feet. So that he became a priest was something of a surprise to everyone, even given the birth order. However, his love of learning was surpassed only for his love to the Lord Almighty. Missionary work became a passion of his, not only because it took God to foreign lands? But it taught people like him that the world was wide, different, and broad in scope than some in Europe would have him believe. Even for his place in the Church, he had to work as hard as his brother did to become a Professor. When one is poor? One learns the value of hard work, patience, and gratitude. He is full of all three of these.
He never agreed with the suppression of the Jesuits, which he may call one of his greater faults given to not agree with such suppression would be to disagree with Holy Mother Church. However, it was men who complained long before His Holiness had, and men who saw fault where God might not have. Like his brother-in-law, he is very opinionated. He is apt to share them with those who will listen with an open mind, albeit with more care since his time in Revolutionary France. He agreed with the reason for the revolution, but was vocal against how it was being carried out after seeing whom it was harming. For this, he was beaten and imprisoned on more than one occasion. Now, he is less of a rabble rouser for public justice, but will help those in need regardless of their ethnic origin. Like his niece Eirian, while he respects the culture surrounding them, he finds the treatment of the Untouchables on par with the hardships faced by biblical Untouchables of the Old Covenant, and finds it sad and wrong. On a happier note, he much enjoys his loud debates with his brothers in law and nephew in law, walks with his nieces, and chasing after his great niece much to everyone's chagrin around the entire house.
Other Teachers, Servants, & Students
A maid-of-all-work or two for the household, meaning they help with everything from people dressing to cooking, cleaning, organizing, gardening, and errands. people to serve as assistant to the adults of the house, perhaps studying for things such as clerk positions or teaching positions. For the school, since it is growing, additional teachers welcome, especially fellow Catholics or those who followed other Catholics on mission-minded purposes! Someone to assist the family with the scheduling and book-keeping of the school and multiple clients for tutelage highly sought after. Also needed are those with ties to St. Christopher’s By The Sea.
If interested in these wanteds, the Dame school, or the parish please post in THIS thread.
6 notes
·
View notes
Text
Audio Drama Podcast Recs
EDIT: well jesus this thing is getting old! If you’re looking for podcast recommendations I would recommend checking some of the newer posts I’ve made. I’ve expanded my subscription list from about 30 to over 150 in the years since I posted this, & at at this point it’s a pretty inadequate rec list.
Because I’ve gotten a few questions over time about podcast recs, both from people who are curious about audio drama, and fellow denizens of Podcast Hell™ who need something new, I wanted to put together this list so I could go a bit more into detail about why I love and recommend each of these amazing audio dramas.
Rather than trying to rank them, I tried to organize this list roughly based on popularity, at least based on my dash! More well-known shows are listed first, and then my faves that I don’t see getting nearly the love that they deserve. Especially with the volume of new innovative audio drama being created, there’s some really good stuff out there not getting nearly enough attention. Which is not to say that, if you’re a new podcast fan, you have to start with the most popular – but those shows are more likely to have an active fandom. (Of course, there are a ton of great podcasts out there, and plenty (both popular and obscure) that I don’t listen to yet.)
I also have a podcast rec tag and a very long list of audio dramas, if you want to go hunting for something beyond these recommendations here. Additionally, if you want more details or content warnings about any of these shows, feel free to message me on or off anon and I’ll do my best to answer! This post really focuses on the positives of each show and who I think might enjoy them.
WELCOME TO NIGHT VALE – Community radio from a friendly desert community where the sun is hot, the moon is beautiful, the dog park is forbidden, the mayoral candidates aren’t human, the weather is a mystery, and mysterious lights pass overhead while we all pretend to sleep.
If you know anything about audio drama podcasts, there’s like a 99.99% chance you know about Night Vale already. If not, just go listen. It’s weird and amazing and beautiful and helped to make a lot of this possible. Or if 100+ episodes plus live shows is overwhelming, don’t (but come back to it someday. It is magical).
For people who like: surrealism, humor, ‘radio show’ format, somewhat less emphasis on plot, diversity, indie music, experimental storytelling, a large back catalog of episodes, a fandom considered large by regular standards and not just podcast standards.
ALICE ISN’T DEAD – As she travels across America, a trucker tells the story of her search for the missing wife she had presumed dead, of the mysterious danger stalking her down freeways and backroads, and of the much bigger – and more terrifying – mystery she is uncovering.
The first and most popular of Night Vale Presents’ other podcasts. Gothic Americana soft horror lesbians! The writing, atmosphere, and orchestration are all superb, as is Jasika Nicole’s monologue performance. I personally recommend car/transit listening. (Also, you can get the whole soundtrack for free, and you should definitely do that.)
For people who like: surrealism, horror, Americana, female leads, lesbians, atmosphere, introspection, mystery, great music, something to drive to.
WOLF 359 – Doug Eiffel doesn’t want to do his job, Hera is a friendly but faulty AI, Dr. Hilbert is probably a mad scientist, Commander Minkowski wishes she wasn’t in charge of these idiots, and together, the four of them make up the entire crew of the USS Hephaestus space station. It’s not a picnic at the best of times: they’re isolated in a constantly malfunctioning tin can, orbiting a red dwarf star eight light years from Earth, and working for a shady corporation with coworkers they can’t stand. Then Eiffel starts to receive inexplicable transmissions from deep space – and everything gets so, so much worse.
It’s a hilarious office sitcom! It’s a character-driven deep-space sci-fi thriller! It’s a tragic, thematically powerful story about personhood, communication, and isolation! It’s all of those things, often within three lines of one another and frequently all at once! Wolf 359 is probably a masterpiece and now, heading into its fourth and final season, it continues to surprise and impress me every single time. Alan Rodi’s music is evocative and superb and the cast and writing are top-notch. One of the best. Listen to it.
For people who like: excellent character-driven writing, great music, well-written women, a gender-balanced ensemble cast, intimate sci-fi, hilarious and often referential humor, scary corporate overlords, cerebus syndrome.
THE PENUMBRA PODCAST – In Hyperion City, metropolis of a far-future Mars, a private eye named Juno Steel is pulled into life-threatening criminal conspiracies, and tangles with an even more dangerous, nameless thief – who could be his worst enemy or the love of his life. Within the Second Citadel, human civilization is protected by knights who venture out into the jungles to fight the monsters that threaten them – but some knights are discovering monsters who seem just a bit different. On the Painted Plains, a train-robbing bandit steals away a schoolteacher – and her heart. All of these and more are stories waiting to be heard behind the doors of the Penumbra, the grandest hotel this side of Nowhere. And absolutely none of them are straight.
Fabulously written genre-bending “queer AF” anthology show. The best is the Juno Steel series, about a bisexual, nonbinary sci-fi PI, which remains eminently and hilariously quotable even as it wrenches your heart out with genre-deconstructive depictions of mental illness and one of the most believable and emotional romances I’ve seen in ages . The Second Citadel fantasy series is also starting to come into its own in the second season and the standalone stories from the first season are a pretty damn good listen (LISTEN TO THE GAY WESTERN. DO IT.) I love this show, I love everyone from this show, I love everyone associated with this show, and I love Mick Mercury.
For people who like: playing with genre tropes, OTR, noir fiction, diversity, romantic chemistry, a variety of stories, suspense, heartache.
THE BRIGHT SESSIONS – Dr. Joan Bright isn’t an ordinary therapist, but her patients aren’t ordinary patients. Sam’s panic attacks bring on bouts of involuntary time travel; Caleb has it hard enough negotiating teenage emotions without also experiencing the feelings of everyone around him; Chloe can’t escape hearing other people’s thoughts; and the less said about Damien, the better. But Dr. Bright, too, is more than she first appears.
It’s a hard-hitting and poignant show about mental illness and people recovering from deep traumas, and also it is about superpowers. As the concept implies, the show is highly character-driven, and it develops an ensemble cast incredibly well. These guys are friends with the Wolf 359 crew and apparently have taken lessons from one another in how to ramp up a plot from “fun” to “oh god why,” but let’s be honest: that’s what we’re here for. Also, unjustifiably sweet gay teen romance, really cute friendships between ladies, at least one cat.
For people who like: highly character-focused narrative, superpowers, moral questions, ensemble casts, cool female leads, shady government activities, great acting.
ARS PARADOXICA – One minute, Dr. Sally Grissom is conducting cutting-edge physics research in her lab in early-21st-century Texas. A single mistake later, she’s on the deck of the U.S.S. Eldridge, in Philadelphia, 1943, smack dab in the middle of a classified WWII weapons experiment. She’s accidentally put time travel into the hands of the US government just as the nuclear era kicks off. And she can’t ever go back.
I assume everyone has heard of ars P because I assume that everyone knows Mischa Stanton. (They work on what must be like 50% of all podcasts that exist at this point, including The Bright Sessions.) Everything they do is pretty much a must-listen, but especially ars p, the “sad time show” to Wolf 359’s “sad space show.” The writing sticks out to me for its sense of consequence; it’s a major theme of the show that everything that happens will have serious and cumulative effects. Deservedly award-winning sound design. As a bonus, it crossed over with The Bright Sessions; if you like one, you might like the other.
For people who like: sci-fi, period settings, cold war thrillers, cool female leads, time travel with rules, complex and grey moralities, science lesbians, diverse ensemble casts.
EOS 10 – Dr. Ryan Dalias has enough to deal with just as the new head surgeon on a massive space station (alien aphrodisiacs, space anti-vaxxers, mind-controlling plants…) But as if that weren’t enough, his boss is an alcoholic misanthrope who has received an unwelcome ultimatum about his drinking; the nurse may or may not be inclined to bite people; there’s a deposed alien prince in the examination room who won’t put his pants back on; and an intergalactic terrorist who wants his name cleared is hiding in the cargo bay. And those are the people on his side.
I have my issues with EOS 10, not least of which is that it is still mired in a two-year hiatus (though Season Three is finally going into production soon? FINGERS CROSSED). I usually forget those issues when I listen because it’s still a frankly hilarious space comedy and the entire main plot is kicked off because of a potentially deadly boner. Think of it as the strange offspring of DS9 and Scrubs. Come for wild space shenanigans, stay for surprisingly heartfelt storylines about addiction (and even wilder space shenanigans). If W359 sounds cool but maybe a little heavy for you (or if the first season was your favorite), EOS 10 might be more up your alley.
For people who like: Star Trek, comedy, space scifi adventures, alien characters, gay space pirate cowboys, waiting.
THE THRILLING ADVENTURE HOUR – “America’s favorite new time podcast in the style of old time radio.”
An anthology show like The Penumbra which takes a comedic approach to its old time radio inspiration instead (and it is very OTR inspired – not just playing with the same genres). Has a lot of segments, not all of which are created equal; two are standouts. Sparks Nevada: Marshall on Mars (which has a continuous plot) follows a deadpan robot-fighting lawman, the Martian tracker who provides him with somewhat vitriolic companionship, and their various allies across the sci-fi-comedy-western landscape of Space Future Mars. Beyond Belief (which is episodic) stars alcoholic socialites Frank and Sadie Doyle, who may be world-renowned paranormal experts, but who mostly just combat supernatural evils so they can get back to their two greatest loves: booze and one another. It was recorded live, often featuring celebrity guest stars (most notably and frequently Nathan Fillion), and recently ended its many-year run.
For people who like: OTR, forties/fifties culture, really REALLY cute couple chemistry (Beyond Belief), humor, much more lighthearted content, a large back catalog, great music, corpsing.
GREATER BOSTON – Leon Stamatis’s perfectly organized life abruptly ends one day at the top of the first hill of a roller coaster – and that’s where the real story begins. His death will start a domino effect of change rippling through a Boston where activists agitate for subway lines to form their own city, shadowy executives watch over offices where magazine editors predict the future, and Google Calendars are updated from beyond the grave.
Guys, I am never gonna shut up about this show. At this point it’s probably my favorite podcast. Experimental fiction, a sort of regional-gothic-slice-of-life, with a plot that builds into the story of an interconnecting community of people, all of them growing and learning and changing and interacting, even the dead ones. And it plays more brilliantly and hilariously and beautifully and poignantly with format and writing and character than you’d think possible. I sometimes see it compared to WTNV (the “weird town” angle), but I think it’s likely to appeal to fans of The Bright Sessions: its characters may be dealing with incredibly strange situations, but the focus (and the appeal) is the development of those characters and their relationships with one another. Alternately, just literally everyone should listen. It’s that good.
For people who like: ensemble casts, experimental fiction, awesome women, strong character development, lesbians, playing with format, characters named Extinction Event, political intrigue, great music, Boston.
WOODEN OVERCOATS – Siblings Rudyard and Antigone Funn, along with their assistant Georgie, run a funeral home on the tiny Channel island of Piffling. It’s the only one, which is how they remain in business even though Rudyard is a punctuality-obsessed misanthrope and Antigone hasn’t left the morgue in daylight for 17 years. Then the world’s most perfect man, Eric Chapman, opens another funeral parlor directly across the street.
A British sitcom about rival funeral directors in a small town, with all of the dry, witty black humor that implies. "British” does always feel like the best adjective to convey the distinct sense of humor here. Also, it has amazingly high production values. Like, it just sounds really, really good. Also, it’s narrated by a talking mouse. The third season was just announced, so now is a really great time to catch up.
For people who like: black comedy, British comedies, rivalries of both business and sibling kinds, mysterious backstories, just a whole lot of dead people jokes, a more episodic structure.
THE BRIDGE – Once, you could drive all the way across the Atlantic in luxury and style, using the Transcontinental Bridge. Now, the Bridge is virtually abandoned. The employees of its Watchtowers are the only people left to tell its stories: stories about ghosts, about curses and illusions, about vanished and abandoned people and places, about the monsters whose places these were before the Bridge, and the strange and dangerous people who came there to find them.
IMHO, possibly the highlight of the writng for The Bridge is that they can create atmosphere like nobody’s business, and the show has a gorgeous soundtrack to boot. The characters are charming, the plot is intriguing, and the world they are building is like absolutely nothing else. Like Archive 81 below, it might appeal to those who’d enjoy Lovecraft if he didn’t suck so much in every possible way, although it’s much softer on the scary factor.
For people who like: atmosphere, storytelling, great character dynamics, sea monsters, spookiness, really fun ladies, ghost stories, mysteries, the bottomless depths and siren’s call of the ocean.
THE STRANGE CASE OF STARSHIP IRIS and UNDER PRESSURE – Starship Iris is the story of Violet Liu, a biologist forced by circumstance to join up with a ragtag crew of spacefarers to determine whether the explosion which killed every other person onboard her spaceship was really an accident. Under Pressure presents the notes of Jamie McMillan-Barrie, a researcher whose literary background did not prepare her to negotiate the kind of office drama that takes place on a research station at the bottom of the Pacific Ocean.
Both of these are part of Procyon Podcasting Network, which also has more upcoming shows which I am beyond thrilled about; both are also incredibly diverse, both in-universe and behind the scenes. Both are charming and very, very gay as well as racially diverse; I’m particularly fond of Starship Iris, but everything that comes out of Procyon is more than worth a listen. They’ve started pretty recently and have only a few episodes each.
For people who like: space scifi, found family tropes, workplace drama, human/genderless alien romance, space lesbians, diversity, cool female leads.
THE ORBITING HUMAN CIRCUS (OF THE AIR) – The dreamy, accident-prone janitor of the Eiffel Tower does his best to get himself a place in the fantastical, impossible radio variety show being broadcast from the tower every night. Will he ever be successful? Will the show survive his attempts? And just where do the mysterious and magical acts come from?
Considering it’s a Night Vale Presents podcast and stars an A-list of my favorite underappreciated creatives I was kind of shocked at how little discussion I see. OHC is so charming and dreamlike and heartwarming; it’s like recapturing the feeling of a particularly magical bedtime story. It features Mandy Patinkin singing Cheap Trick and you need that in your life. Also, it has a platypus in it.
For people who like: OTR, John Cameron Mitchell/The Music Tapes/Neutral Milk Hotel, a gentler weirdness than other NVP podcasts, Paris, charm, experimental storytelling.
WITHIN THE WIRES – You are a patient at the Institute. You have been instructed to listen to this series of relaxation tapes to aid in your treatment. You must trust my voice. You must trust only my voice.
NVP’s other highly underappreciated show. WTW manages to tell a narrative in a format (self-help relaxation tapes) I would have never thought possible, and though it’s difficult to say much about what makes it so good without spoiling the effect of that excellence, it’s a great choice if you’re weird-fiction-inclined. Like Alice Isn’t Dead, it also features lesbians. (It may not be good for anyone who has trouble with unreality, disturbing second-person commands, or depictions of institutionalization.)
For people who like: experimental storytelling, WLW love stories, surrealism, dystopic fiction, suspense.
INKWYRM – Mella Sonder was hired to work with a recalcitrant AI, not to be personal assistant to Annie Inkwyrm, head of outer space’s premiere fashion magazine – and the two of them will probably be fighting about that, along with all of the other disasters they get tangled up in, until the star they’re orbiting explodes. Or until they fall in love.
My money’s on the latter (fingers crossed please make it happen), but this show just finished a really fun first season and I absolutely cannot wait for more of it. I’m a sucker for dysfunctional coworker comedy, and an even bigger sucker for girls falling in love; this offers both and is excellent, and is just incredibly done for an amateur podcast. The peeps making it are inspiring and badass and really, really talented.
For people who like: The Devil Wears Prada, scifi, diversity, vitriolic romantic tension, cool female leads, alien characters, wlw romance, incompetently homicidal AIs.
THE BEEF AND DAIRY NETWORK – The number one podcast for those involved – or just interested! – in the production of beef animals and dairy herds.
Honestly almost impossible to describe. What really gets me is the hilarity of how it somehow perfectly imitates the public radio/industry podcast style, delivering you important updates from the world of cattle products, except not from a world anything like ours. Endless beefy fun times with the occasional sharp right turn into body horror and potent unreality played for comedy. This and Alice Isn’t Dead are my dad’s favorite podcasts, which probably says something about him.
For people who like: Wooden Overcoats (it’s by the same folks!), weirdness, humor, much less of a focus on narrative, ‘radio show’ format, satire, rich beef sausages.
ARCHIVE 81 – Dan Powell is missing. He was hired, so he thought, for a simple job cataloguing an archive of tapes for the New York state government: a series of interviews that a woman named Melody Pendras conducted with the tenants of an odd apartment building. Then the story on the tapes becomes impossibly strange and terrifying, and so does Dan’s life.
Another one where I’m not sure whether everyone knows about it and just isn’t talking, but they should be. It’s probably a sign of how fantastic A81 is that it’s one of my favorites even though I ordinarily can’t stand horror. This post really extolls its virtues in a better way than I can. This show has some of the most incredible sound design I’ve heard yet, so if visceral body horror conveyed solely through the audio medium isn’t for you, then neither is Archive 81. On the other hand, if you like extradimensional lesbian apotheosis and the nickname “Boombox Fuckboy,” listen to this. On top of that, the acting is superb. (The creators, Dead Signals, also did an apocalyptic scifi survival-horror miniseries thing called The Deep Vault, which is similarly beyond well-made.)
For people who like: horror, weirdness, found footage format, great music, absolutely stellar atmospheric and action sound design, excellent and realistic acting, The King in Yellow, a ‘Lovecraftian’ feel not based on hatred of anyone who isn’t straight/white.
JIM ROBBIE AND THE WANDERERS – Three trouble-seeking wandering musicians (one brash and upbeat, one an argumentative engineer, and one a grumpy robot brought to life from a radio and assorted cutlery) wander a post-apocalyptic America populated by strange towns and fantasy beings, some friendly, others dangerous.
This is another show that really charmed me right out of the box. Not to mention that it’s a take on “post-apocalyptic” that I’d never seen before – why have grim ruins or cannibalistic societies when you can have giant friendly genderless bees, an NYC inhabited by partying undead, towns full of squid-people, and desert-dwelling leprechauns? It’s much more of a fantasy take on the genre and the characters are incredibly sweet. I was also really impressed by the quality bump it’s undergone over its run so far.
For people who like: fantasy, more lighthearted narratives, fun and creative concepts, a villain called “The Fig-Wasp King,” great music, friendship, cool female leads, diversity.
THE HIDDEN ALMANAC – A thrice-weekly, four-minute show hosted by the plague doctor Reverend Mord, offering historical anecdotes from another world, the feast days of unlikely saints, and useful gardening advice.
Tired of that one analogy from every news article of the 2013 Night Vale boom (“like Stephen King/H.P. Lovecraft wrote A Prairie Home Companion”), writer/artist Ursula Vernon decided to take a crack at recreating Garrison Keillor’s other show, The Writer’s Almanac, in a similar fashion. Compared to WTNV, it comes off as less ‘weird’ and more fantastical, and is on the light side continuity-wise, though both the historical events and the frame show have arcs. In the past couple of years there have been a lot more story arcs, many lasting months, and a lot more appearances from guest character Pastor Drom and other characters. I find it incredibly charming and relaxing.
For people who like: fantasy weirdness, the actual Writer’s Almanac, WTNV, gardening, vitriolic friendships, worldbuilding, short runtimes, less of a focus on plot, large back catalogs, worldbuilding, crows.
#my posts#podcast recs#podcast recommendations#hey! here's that thing ive been doing#also before u ask about taz: im only to pttm and will probably add it once ive caught up#bobbie recommends things
151 notes
·
View notes
Text
Part 2, Chapter 8: Absent Family
There is more here than I understand. Which is, I guess, true of all people true at all times of their life. We never see the big picture, even when we think we do. We see a reconstruction of the big picture, from the bits and pieces we picked up and tried to put into the right order. And I have a lot of bits and pieces. Bay and Creek, a vast organization run and financed by – who? The Thistle Men? Which are what? And they’re allied with the US government somehow. And now this person in a hoodie. And over and over, this name. Praxis.
When the big picture gets too hazy, it’s time to return to the details you’re sure about. I’ve been to a Bay and Creek base. For some reason, they let me leave.
It’s time to go back. And this time, I am not leaving.
Alice Isn’t Dead by Joseph Fink. Performed by Jasika Nicole. Produced by Disparition. Part 2, Chapter 8: “Absent Family”.
There was the farmhouse, as I had left it. By all appearances, a shell of what had once sheltered people. A family who staked their lives on the health of the fields, only to be undone by age or disease, or those same fields, or a desire to move on and try something else. Or more probably, never a family. Every broken plank of wood, every sagging wall a reconstruction, a fake.
I went inside, moving quickly so that I could not be stopped before getting to the entrance. It was later afternoon. There was no use waiting until nightfall. Certainly, my approach would be seen. There was no sneaking into this place. I was going to face them directly and force them to deal with me, one way or another.
Except I wasn’t going to even be able to do that, because turning on the dial stove did nothing. No pitch down into darkness and back into underground light. Looking more closely, there was a layer of real dust upon the painted-on dust. The dial was clean of fingerprints, except my own recently applied. The base had vanished.
But no. What I had seen had been voluminous, a massive space with hundreds or thousands of people inside of it. There was no way that a base that big was moved or abandoned, not over one person. Even with all the money in the world, that would be ludicrous.
But this particular entrance had been sealed off. And who could I find another entrance when it could be a… dying tree at the edge of the creek a half miel from here? Or a certain stone left innocuously by the highway?
Instead, I dwelled on the more pressing question, there in that dusty kitchen that had once been an elevator. To seal off an entrance like this that had been so elaborately set up was still a phenomenal waste of time and money. It would have made so much more sense to just kill me. So why didn’t they kill me?
There is an undeniable romance to travel. And there is a stranger, more specific romance to traveling constantly. Rootlessness can be attractive, it really can be. The map it creates in your head. When someone brings up Oklahoma City, or Boise or Chicago or Portland, Oregon or Portland, Maine – and for each of those, you have a memory. Being able to think: oh yeah, I’ve been there. You remember how it felt in a personal way. How Oklahoma City was surprising, because it was more hip than I expected. How Chicago in the summer feels happy in a way many other cities don’t. The exact smell of an antique store in a small town in Texas.
Direct knowledge of the world is a fundamentally seductive thing to acquire.
I sat on a faded green couch covered in dust and pollen, hoping that nothing was currently living inside of it, and I tried to think through why I was alive. Why am I alive? It’s a basic question that a lot of people have asked, but my angle was different, more focused. Why am I alive now, in this moment, when Bay and Creek should have changed that whole situation for me in a big way?
Possibility one is that they do not kill innocents, a firm moral stance. They are fighting on the side of good. But I don’t buy it. That base I saw was massive. Their operation runs at the least nationwide. There is no way to hide a secret that large if you’re not willing to kill to keep it. If they had a firm code of never killing innocents, then that secret long ago would have slipped.
Which leaves me with the other possibility. That they wanted me to see and then walk away alive with that knowledge. A personal memory of what it was like to be inside their halls. But why? They are at war. If they want something, it would be because it helps them in this war. So I can only conclude that I have a role to play in this conflict, that Bay and Creek knows what that role is but I don’t. And in order to guide me toward that role, they have allowed me to glimpse their operation and survive.
Me, lonely me. Anxiety-ridden me. [scoffs] There’s no way I have a role in anything except my own sleeplessness.
If I’m important to Bay and Creek, it likely means that I am troublesome to Thistle. Which would explain, perhaps, why I was targeted so early in my search by that – creature. But Thistle wouldn’t give up just because they missed me once. If I’m important enough for them to target, then I am still a target. Thistle must still be coming for me. And I swear, it was right when I reached that conclusion that I heard the car approaching the abandoned house.
There is the other side of constant travel, of course. This sense that you never belong anywhere. Or this forgetfulness about where you’ve been, or worse, where you are. The franchises amplify this, of course. I stopped for lunch in a Chili’s because it’s there, and there’s a lot of room to park my truck. And I look around and realize, I don’t even know what state I’m in. It’s a feeling of bottomlessness, like the floor has disappeared. Like a shitty magic trick. I’m falling, but also I’m not. I’m eating a chicken fajita salad in a plastic booth.
Beyond that, there is the gap that forms between you and other people. They all are going to be here tomorrow, and the day after, and the day after that. Me, I barely know where I’m going to be tomorrow. I have no idea where I’ll be next week. I couldn’t begin to guess my locations for the year, not even within a 300 mile radius. Romance and sadness have always gone hand in hand, of course, and the romance of travel never more so. The bloom of excitement is so quickly replaced by the quiet despair, and looking out another motel window at another motel parking lot, and the highway on the other side of the tall wire fence. And this knowledge that no matter where you go, it’s still you, standing in a room with yourself, looking through the same eyes, thinking the same thoughts.
My usual anxiety exploded into panic. I should have run the other direction, but terror pinged around my brain and no thoughts could connect amongst the chatter. Instead, I crawled to the front window. There was a police car, its headlights obscuring any detail except the basic shape of it. It was staring to be quite dark, so I couldn’t tell who was inside. The headlights switched off, the door opened, and as it did the interior light came on.
Sitting in the passenger seat was a man in a police uniform. He was dead, with wounds all over his neck and torso. I don’t think his death had been quick. Coming out of the driver’s seat was a woman I had met once before, on a road near the Salton Sea, and I hoped would never meet again. She was dressed haphazardly in something like a police officer’s uniform, but the details were all wrong.
“Keisha?” she shouted. “Keisha, you in there?”
She leaned on the hood. “I mean I know you are, so I guess that was a dumb question. My bad!”
She brushed off her hands in three quick slaps.
“I followed you here. You’re very easy to follow. I can smell you.”
She tapped her nose and laughed. “I can smell you from three states away. You smell really good. So I guess uh, take that as a compliment. OK, I’m gonna come in now!”
I scrambled up and back toward the kitchen, past the ruined staircase, not stable enough to climb, and anyway I’m not gonna corner myself. I made it to the back bedroom, a child’s bedroom, but now a ruin, like all the rest of the house. I heard the front door open.
“Why are you poking around this place again? Is there something here for us to find?”
Movement and clatter as she rooted around the living room and the kitchen.
“You don’t have to answer that. If there’s something to find, we’ll find it. When faced with a problem, we tear at it and keep tearing and tearing and tearing and eventually, everything gives.”
The window was broken, (chunks) of glass around the frame, but there was no choice. I started to wriggle through it, doing my best to end up with only light scratches.
“Keisha, it’s OK! This doesn’t have to be difficult. It’s time.”
Her voice was so close. My legs were caught in the frame and I pulled hard. The glass popped and I fell free, and as I did, she rounded the corner. Her eyes glinted in the darkness.
“There you are!” she said.
I was already rising to run, but she didn’t sound in any hurry.
“Hey listen! I have a job to do now. Here we go!”
And she leapt forward, her laid-back energy compressing and coiling out in a burst of violent movement, and she was at the window, and her hand as unyielding as a handcuff around my arm. And I took the chunk of glass that had come out with my exit, and I drove it through her chest.
She made a soft involuntary sigh and stepped back, her hand loosening for a moment. I tore away and back toward the front of the house. I’d left my truck a long walk distant to avoid - and this seemed darkly funny to me just then, to avoid attracting attention, and there was no way I was gonna make it back there on foot before she caught me. So I went to the cop car and [sighs] mercy of mercys: she had left the key in the ignition. I fell into the seat and I started the car.
The cop had been dead for a bit, and the smell was a lot. I tried not to think about his proximity to me, about what any of this meant. I concentrated on the motions. I turned the key, the engine started. Already I was on drive, and on the gas, a sliding squealing turn back toward the road. As I drove as fast as the car would go on the dirt, I looked behind me and saw in the red light of my escape the woman, glass sticking out of her chest, absolute determination on her face, pumping her arms. And for a moment, I couldn’t believe it, she gained on my speeding car.
And then the gear change kicked in. And I finally saw her fade into the blue twilight of the just set sun.
There’s a sense of family that I think forms between people who have to travel a lot for work, no matter what that work is. Corporate suits flying to sales meetings twice a week, a drummer who sits in the back of the van eight months out of the year. People like me, driving our trucks. You can recognize the look in the other’s eyes, this feeling of having seen too many miles in too short a time. You can compare stories about Cleveland, and about Ann Arbor and Birmingham and Fort Lauderdale. They know the romance and they know the despair, and so you don’t have to talk about either. You can just ask them how the Hampton Inn is in Madison, Wisconsin, and they’ll know exactly what you mean.
I started this by lamenting the amorphous nature of my search. And, well, that’s been addressed. All other options have been taken away. Now I know I am being pursued. And so my only way forward is to run. Which direction doesn’t matter. What matters is distance. What matters is speed.
I wish I could tell you where I am. But even if I could, then what? Alice, our paths are different now, I suppose. You were on your way to saving something bigger than us all. And me? I am only going to be able to save myself, and maybe not even that. Besides, by the time I told you where I was, I would be somewhere else.
Just never stop moving. Because she is coming. She is fast behind me. And I cannot even imagine what she would do if she caught up.
Bay and Creek wanted me to see what they are, and they wanted me to live to remember it. There is a role for me in defeating the Thistle Men. What that role is, I have no idea.
Maybe you knew, Alice. Maybe that was another secret that you kept from me.
I only know that I need to live long enough to figure out what my place is in this war.
[sighs] More soon, Alice. I hope. [whispers] Shit. I hope.
Joseph Fink: And now, a knock-knock joke.
Knock-knock.
[left speaker] Who’s there?
[right speaker] Hoo.
[left] Hoo who?
[right] Like an owl, get it?
[left] Yeah, I get it.
[right] You’re not gonna let me in, are you?
[left] No I’m not.
[right] But who would make owl puns for you?
[left] I’m going back to bed.
[right] Listen, wait. Listen.
[left] Yes?
[right] There’s this brick wall where no two bricks are the same size, within which there’s this window with a perfect map of the world and fingerprints. Below which there’s this heater coughing up the first dust of winter, on top of which there’s two jackets, one scarf, three gloves. Anyway, I saw a van tip over on 26th Street, and it reminded me of you.
[left] I’m going to bed.
[right] OK. Good night! Good night. [sighs]
29 notes
·
View notes
Text
The Magicians (working title)
The Magicians
(working title)
I’m somewhat in love with this idea but want you guys to tell me what you think of the first two “chapters”
The sun is setting behind the New York skyline. Two men stand on a 32-story rooftop. One stands with his back to the setting sun, letting the shadows hid his face. “You have the money?” He asks the man squinting into the sun. The squinting man starts to make excuses, protests he didn’t have enough time. The shaded man becomes annoyed and then enraged when the other man asks for more time. He looks at the other man and with no warning pushes him over the edge of the building. The shaded man doesn’t even blink at the scream of terror fading away as the other man falls to his death. He calmly pulls out his phone and dials a number. “Comrade. We have a problem.” He says into the phone. The sound of approaching sirens forces the man to move off the roof.
Below firemen and the police clean up another death. It’s the fifteenth of is kind this month and the fourth that week. The director of NYPD shares a worried look with the man standing next to him.
“I believe its time to make Operation Magicians into action Colonel Anderson.” The police chief says. The man next to him sighs deeply. “We will work with you to find the best people on our force.”
Colonel Anderson sighs again. “Thank you, Archie. However, we can’t use cops.” The chief’s nostrils flare at the slight. He opens his mouth to protest but the colonel holds up his had to stop him. “They know all the cops. They will know we are coming for them. We can’t make this team out of cops.”
The chief’s shoulders slump exhaustedly. “Who are you going to recruit?” The colonel pinches the bridge of is nose. “I don’t know but I will figure it out. I will have to.” He says as they watch the body be put in a body bag and the sun finally slips behind the skyscrapers of the city.
Six Months later….
Jacob Anderson
I look at the paper covered cork board in frustration. The red string crossing and twisting around pictures and articles with little notes in between hasn’t brought us any closer to solving the biggest case of espionage this department has seen in 20 years.
This past year has seen over 200 bodies turn up all connected to this case. All having jumped, or in my suspicion pushed, from the roofs of buildings. The answer is staring me in the face but for some reason I can’t figure out what the answer is.
“Fuck.” I groan, running my hand through my hair, probably making it stand on end more than it already is. The door bangs open and Nicole, my assistant on the case, comes rushing in.
“We found her.” She gasps, having run up the six floors from the surveillance room. “Show me.” I demand, pulling a pair of glasses out of jacket pocket. She hands me the tablet letting me see the surveillance. There she is. The girl on the tablet screen performs another complicated card trick mesmerizing the crowd and her helpful “assistant”. What they don’t realize is she’s robbing them right under their noses. The girl quickly finishes the trick, releasing the audience from its captivated spell. She sticks around briefly for the applause and then quickly flit through the crowd just as the victims of her robbery notice their belongings are gone. By the time they kick up any great fuss the girl is lost to the crowded New York streets.
I shut the tablet off. “We have someone following her. Correct?” I level her with the glare that says the answer better be a yes. She rolls her eyes at my glare. I guess 10 years of working together has made her immune to me. “Connor and McDade are on it.” She tells me. I snort. Those two are shit at stealth. I say as much.
Nichols shrugs and says “They found the bar she works at. Alice was going to attempt to approach her there.” I groan. That’s even worse. Alice McDade doesn’t have a smooth bone in her body. She’s brilliant on the computer and can make a machine tell everything she wants but she can’t see to speak to real people. Shaking my head, I close my eyes and silently send up a prayer to deity is listening. Hopefully they’ll give McDade the grace she needs to not botch this up.
When I open my eyes, Agent Nichols is staring me with an amused expression on her face. I scowl at her.
“Head home Agent Nichols. Tomorrow will be an interesting day and I’m going to need you at full capacity.” There’s another eye roll and something said her breath that sounds suspiciously like “he’s been saying that for 10 years. When will he learn?” The door to the main office shuts out the rest of her quiet griping. If anyone else tried to leave like that I would have called them back in and reamed them within an inch of their life. Agent Nicole Nichols is different and after putting up with me for a better part of 10 years, I believe she gets to bitch about me whenever she likes.
I look at the file that Nichols left on the desk besides the tablet. It’s a very thin file about the girl on the screen. Mikalya Ross. The final piece of our puzzle. I place head shot on a separate board and connect the red string to her pin. Effectively closing the circle. I take a deep breath and feel some peace wash over me. Picking up my black briefcase, I head for the door. I take one last long sweeping look, trying to savor the last few minutes of calm this room will experience the next few months. I stride back to the board with the finished circle and in thick black marker I write ‘The Magicians’ on the board. Nodding once to myself, I walk out the room. The door closes and the entire building settles into what is going to be the last quiet night in a long time.
Idan Ayaba
The house is still silent when I creep downstairs at 7:30 am. I tread softly into the kitchen and try not to roll my eyes at my mother passed out on the kitchen table, surgery notes spread out around her. I quietly open the fridge and grab the lunch I prepped the night before. I also press the on button to the coffee machine. I walk out towards the door and pass my father passed out on the couch his medical notes spread him as well. I heft the heavy backpack full of medical textbooks and walk out the house. I take a deep breath of the cool New York air and fish a stack of mini playing cards out of the pocket of my hoodie. I automatically stat shuffling the cards while I actively try not to get angry at my parents.
For the past 15 years the routine has been the same. I wake up, get ready, make coffee and leave all before they even wake up. They are gone by the time I’m home and I’m asleep by the time they get home. Fifteen long fucking years of the same routine and now they want me to join them. To become a neurosurgeon like them. To chase whatever dream they have been chasing since they came to this country when I was five. The dream that had my parents missing every important event of most of my life.
I’m still fuming when I make it to my destination. I have a meeting with a police chief about becoming a medical liaison for the government. I let the receptionist know who I am here to see and she gives me a smile that looks a touch like pity. I try to shake the weird feeling I that continues to grow in the pit of my stomach as the glass elevator rises to the top. The door opens and I’m let out to a large room with four other girls.
As I take a seat in the only other available chair, I survey my competition. The one slouched in the corner has long, dark curly hair and is wearing all black. She’s flicking a lighter and passing her hand almost through the flame. Obviously, not any competition if her attire and affinity for fire is any indication.
The girl across from me is fiddling with the ends of her pink patterned hijab. The one shade of pink matches her lipstick and sneakers. She’s nervous and for some reason I feel like it has nothing to do with the interview. The other two girls are in the corner. The once girl towers over the other. The tallest one has on a killer, however interview inappropriate, teal jump suit with a pair of designer heels and a fedora. The entire outfit is fantastic and something I would wear. I’m also pretty sure the jumpsuit came out of one of the Nigerian fashion houses. I’m incredibly jealous and impressed that an white American woman would know about the Nigerian fashion houses when so many African don’t even recognize them. I wonder if she’s lost. The shorter girl has on the simplest outfit of all of us. She’s wearing a simple t-shirt that read ‘you don’t get a spirit animal’ and jeans. Not one of these girls seem like the correct fit for the job and that makes me feel the tiniest bit better about my chances.
A door I hadn’t noticed before swings open and tall man with wavy slightly grey hair strides into the room. I recognize him instantly. Colonel Jacob Anderson is director of espionage prevention. Its rumored that his division also trains America’s spies. His division is the dream job for a medical liaison. I look sit up straighter as his gaze turns to me. I make eye contact and try to smile warmly. He smiles in return then turns away.
“Ladies. I want to thank you all for coming.” He says. “I also want to welcome you to the espionage division.” I glance around the room and everyone looks as confused as I do. All I can think of is what the fuck is going on.
#wip#tell me what you think#writing#novel#i want to finish this#spies#girl power#the future is female#all my characters are going to be badasses
4 notes
·
View notes
Last Seen Blogs
glitchgrowl
bloody and raw but i swear it is sweet
kingsorbet
Sleepy Eyes
floradanika25
Can you please go fall into a pit and die for me?
klicpicbangalore
Untitled
lordnarcissus-blog
CROWN