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thedazedyouth · 6 years

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It’s You Who Hung The Moon

An Alfreyco series that I may or may not actually finish. Updates will be slow. I don’t know how many chapters it’ll be, but at least 4-5.

Summary: Alfredo’s introduction to the Fakes is through a failed assassination plot.

Make All The Sound You Want

There’s a particular haze that has weaved its way into the very concrete that forms the rough streets, to the glass that stands overwatching the insignificant ants scuttling about. The entrancing lights of the repeating buildings pull the needy, lonely and lavish into a state of constant daydream; a place where nothing means anything and a footstep is consequential.

Life has a twisted meaning within the borders of Los Santos. The sun beams down upon the city yet it is shrouded in sentient shadows and no named people. The very scent of the city can twist innocent minds into lethal beasts, snarling and laughing.

Crime is rampant, while the bystanders prefer to turn a blind eye to save their own skins.

How does that make them better?

Blood has leaked down from the heavens and stains the sidewalks, the encompassing mountains and every grain of sand that sits just before the lapping waves; and it is ignored.

Questioning the fabric of Los Santos’ reality will only lead to the unravelling of a city built upon graves and refusal to acknowledge unspeakable crimes that should remain as silent sin. Only whispers of the act the Gods above have witnessed make it further than closed doors and bribed corruption.

Amorality overtook as the trend of the century, and apathy snaked in closeby; together the pair destroyed a generation with hopes and faith and turned them into nightmares and unrecognizable reflections.

To the ones with fresh blood, that has yet to find its way onto a back alley in the dead of night, Los Santos is a miracle. A place to start again and wash away the regrets and mistakes that slyly follow you. It’s somewhere to settle down, start a family and live the life destined for the normal.

No one smiles at the passing sign that says “WELCOME TO LOS SANTOS” and thinks they’ll end up running past faded posters plastered against brick walls down a trashed and forgotten street. No one would believe the blood pooling from their side, their hand being steady as they pushed against the wound and their other kept a tight grip on their silver handgun. No one would imagine that the man keeping them stable and upright would be someone they planned to assassinate the night previous.

But Alfredo Diaz has never had a normal life.

Thrills Don’t Come For Free

It wasn’t a bad thing that Trevor had finally gotten comfortable around the crew. He wasn’t so tense that you could visibly see him hold his whole body at a nervous angle, and he wasn’t a ton of bricks when anyone hugged him; in fact now he’d completely melt into it after being touch starved for so long. There were no complaints from about area.

When Trevor was an awkward newbie, he was punctual. He showed up to every heist a hour ahead of time, just in case, and he was always in Geoff’s office to discuss plans before Geoff even got there. Trevor liked things to be tight. He’d rather kill a target straight away rather than toy with them; unlike the other Fakes, who need some kind of release and being sadistic seem to work.

He slowly loosened those restraints as he picked up things from the Fakes; little habits they had that went mostly unnoticed. He found that it was more fun to draw things out, fuck with a victim a little before their doom.

Sadly, one of those restraints he let go was his perfectionism, in a sense.

The Fakes first noticed a pattern starting about six months into his appointment as the new leader. They were robbing a jewelry store; Geoff realized his and Jack’s anniversary was approaching and although she said no gifts, he couldn’t help himself. It wouldn’t be a surprise but she could get anything she wanted.

It was almost time for the heist to begin and Trevor was nowhere to be found. They were a few members down; Ryan and Gavin were negotiating with another crew for territory, so they needed the extra pair of hands.

Jeremy was furiously texting and calling Trevor’s phone only to be left on voicemail and a petty read.

Geoff was grumbling as they waited in Jack’s car, something about the respect in this crew and how he should whip them into shape, literally.

Ten minutes later, there was a sharp series of knocks on the drivers window. Trevor was standing there, black sunglasses with the price tag still hanging off and an iced coffee in hand, the ice cubes almost completely melted.

Jack rolled down her window. “What the absolute fuck, Trevor.” Total and utter exhaustion was distinct in her voice, with a pinch of tired annoyance. “Where the hell have you been?”

Trevor took a long, exaggerated sip from his drink “Uh, I reckon that’s pretty obvious,” he said calmly.

Jack pinched her brow and sighed deeply. Mentally, she was trying to find the words to chew him out but the lack of surprise took away from the anger. So instead she threw up her hands in defeat. “Fuck it, then. Let’s fucking go.”

Trevor stood back to let Jack jump out of the car, Geoff, Jeremy, and Michael followed suit. Michael was trying to stifle his laughter as Trevor took another thirty seconds to walk a few meters to throw out his coffee into a dumpster.

When he joined the crew again, Jack gestured towards the store they were across the street from.

“Ready?” she asked.

Trevor fixed his sunglasses, and nodded.

The Lads and Trevor were beaming in amusement as the crew made their way towards the jewellery store, Geoff was regretting every choice that lead him to that point while Jack was planning her retirement.

The heist went as well as the majority of their heists; barely escaping and leaving a trail of fire and explosions behind them. They quickly made it back to the car, Jack was quite content in the passenger's seat. A simple, shining set of gold and silver bracelets dangled together as she reached over and wiped away some ash from Geoff’s face.

The couple gazed lovingly at each other, only for a few moments but long enough to discomfort the trio in the backseat.

“Can we go now? The cops are gonna be on us soon,” noted Trevor, looking anywhere except in front of him. His new sunglasses were sitting askew on his face, if he noticed he didn’t bother to fix them.

Jack broke the stare to snap back at Trev. “You don’t get to say anything, not after that shit you pulled today.” She turned to Geoff again. “Let’s go, babe,” she said sweetly.

Jeremy and Michael snickered on either side of Trevor, who was too afraid of Jack to say anything to shut them up.

Catch Fire With Me

Alfredo walked calmly down the passageway, the two guards either side of him were starting to blend into the shadows and he couldn’t tell if it was real or just the dark lighting. The fact he would have believed the former was telling to how he’d been in the city for too long.

Five years ago, Alfredo would have pictured himself dead in a ditch if you asked him; but here he is now. He was entering the business of one of the most powerful and dangerous men in the city. An offer was sent out to Fredo, it wasn’t stated but he knew what would happen if he deemed himself too good to show up.

So there he was, walking into a meeting he didn’t know what about and his best gun was in the hands of some brute next to him, it was mentioned in the request that he should bring it.. Not exactly how he pictured his Thursday morning but better than doing nothing, he supposed.

The hallway was quickly ending, and a simple white door was waiting at the end. Stood before it was another two guards, their suits were the same as the ones beside Alfredo; but these ones were obvious. They didn’t blend in, didn’t disappear, these ones were meant to be seen, to put fear in him.

The one to the left only moved his arm to reach over and open the door. The guards beside him kept moving, slightly pushing Alfredo forward when he hesitated for a moment, with his own gun too. The fact that he knew nothing about this meeting unsettled him, it wasn’t how he usually handled business deals.

The room they entered was extended, it was clearly designed for office meetings. There was a wall of windows overlooking the streets but they were covered by velvet curtains. There were a series of chandeliers hanging over a long, maple table; a man sat at the very other end, hands clasped together and a suit similar to the ones his guards wore.

“Good morning, Mr Diaz.” His voice was smooth, but it boomed throughout the room. “Take a seat.” The man gestured to the seat directly to his right.

Alfredo held his best poker face as he walked, unguarded, to the other side of the room. He pulled out a chair and slowly sat down. He kept the guards in his peripheral visions but made eye contact with the man next to him.

“My name is Caden Sparks. You must be wondering why I called you here today. I have a proposition for you that I hope you’d be interested in.”

Alfredo remained silent, allowing the man, Sparks, to explain further. Sparks stood up, he paced to the large curtains and pulled one open. The bright sun was sharp in Fredo’s eyes, but after he adjusted to the light he could see Sparks standing, almost watching the city with curiosity.

“I assume by now you’ve heard of the Fake AH Crew,” Sparks continued, still not facing him.. “Over the years that crew has grown more powerful, faster than anyone I’ve seen before. I’ve encountered them more times than I’d want but every time, they’ve proven that they’re nothing more than a bunch of arrogant children who are drunk on their power. It’s no secret that the famous Kingpin was the one who built the crew up from nothing, he’s always been in control, of his crew and the city. But something no one realized, is over the years Ramsey has given up the reins. He’s old, too old to be holding so much power. There was a change in the Fakes’ operations, a subtle change but a definite one. Not just once, though. The title of boss was passed over again. At first, I had no idea how to find this new, mysterious leader. But after searching for months, I found him.”

Sparks stopped, leaving the room in a tense silence. Alfredo processed what he was just told and realized what his job was going to be.

“And you want me to kill him,” Alfredo said.

“Exactly. Y’know, you’re just as smart as they say you are.” Sparks turned around again to face Alfredo, he was grinning. “Now Mr Diaz, I hope you understand how important this is. A simple bullet, that I will supply, will alter the course of this city and it’ll all be because of you.”

“What if I refuse?” Alfredo raised. It was a half-assed threat that he wasn’t stupid enough to mean but needed to know the risks of this job.

Sparks ignored his comment, he slowly paced towards Alfredo. His hand slipping into his pants pocket, Fredo’s body tensing as he prepared to run. Instead of pulling out a gun, it was a small item that flashed in the sunlight. Sparks leaned onto the table next to Alfredo.

“This bullet.” He held the small metal object between two fingers up to Alfredo’s face. “That gun.” He pointed to the guard holding Alfredo’s sniper rifle. “You’ve got a week and if you miss, if you fail for any reason, I’ll cut off your limbs and throw you off the pier.”

Alfredo took the bullet from Sparks’ hand. “Good thing I’m the best shot in town.” He smiled back at him, the threat meaning nothing to him, nothing could scare him. “Do I at least get a name for this guy? Or will you set it up for me?”

“Trying to make me do your dirty work, Diaz? I appreciate the snark,” Sparks said. “You’ll track him yourself, though. His name’s Trevor Collins. Make a display out of his body, I want everyone to see it.”

Curse My Eyes

The penthouse was often filled with a bunch of lazy bodies, laying around together without directly interacting. When there wasn’t a heist being planned and there was no other crew to talk with, most of the Fakes spent their time either working out some repressed anger or being normal adult men; playing video games.

Gavin had gone on a spree after he and Ryan came back from their negotiation and the crew was only just getting around to the pile stack next to the flat screen in the lounge. The Lads plus Jack and Ryan each sat around the TV, yelling at each other and laughing.

Trevor and Geoff had managed to discreetly slip away as the others were preoccupied. Geoff made sure to lock his office door behind them; they had been holed up in there for days, keeping any stray eyes away. Even after Trevor took over control, Geoff kept it his space. Trevor claimed he did better work surrounded by chaos rather than blocked away from it.

Geoff sat behind the desk, Trevor had taken to pacing back and forth. Geoff tsked, shaking his head at the boy.

“Sit down, dumbass. Let’s figure this out,” he said.

Trevor sat down quickly, still feeling like it was a demand despite his own position of power. He leant his arms on his knees, his hands fiddling together as his brain pieced together the information they had received.

“We needed that land, Geoff. We’ve already promised the Vultures downtown that they can use it for their operations.” Trevor sped through what he’d already said a hundred times. “Tell me again exactly what Ryan said happened.”

Geoff sighed. “The negotiation went perfectly, Gavin was his usual amazing self; we got everything we wanted and a little more. But two days ago they contacted Gavin and called the whole thing off. They didn’t give a reason,” he explained. He stayed quiet to let Trevor think things through.

“Are you sure there’s no one else that can get use those weapons?” Trevor asked.

Geoff nodded. “You know there isn’t”

“Without that land, the Vultures aren’t going to give us their supplies and there goes a couple dozen deals and close to a million bucks.” Trevor covered his face with his hands and groaned into them.

“Bet you’re regretting taking over now, huh?”

Trevor ignored Geoff’s joke, a resemblance of a plan had popped into his head. “Okay, set up another meeting. Gavin takes Michael and Jeremy, I want them apart of the talk. I want them manic and intense, whatever they can to make Gav seem like the sane one. No one leaves the room until we get what we want, Ryan and Jack will go as backup to make sure of that. You and I will go to the Vultures. As far as they’re aware, we’re moving ahead with the deal and pray Gavin gets it before we have to fight for it.”

Geoff stood up, Trev following suit, and nodded in approval. “When?”

“Tonight.”

“Alright, I’ll let the children and Jack know the plans.”

Geoff left the office, Trevor stayed behind to peer out the windows. The city was blinding, the noise was thankfully dulled by the time it reached him that high.

Finally, with a plan in motion, the last few days caught up on him and the sudden withdrawal hit him. He hadn’t gotten the chance to leave the penthouse, meaning it had been too long since he’d had a proper coffee; not one made hours ago and left in the percolator on the kitchen bench.

Trevor checked his reflection in the window, and noticed the bags already starting to form under his eyes. He ran a hand through his hair and headed out. He past through the lounge, assuming everyone had been filled in and continued for the front door.

“Treyco, where you going? We’ve got shit to do,” Gavin called from the lounge floor.

Trevor was steadily losing steam and couldn’t find the energy to turn around as he responded. “I’m heading out, I need s’more caffeine.”

Words, Wars and Symphonies

It was too easy to find him, Alfredo was looking for more of a challenge from this guy. But after finding a picture of him and running to through the city’s street cameras, Alfredo found his target visiting the same run down hole-in-the-wall cafe multiple times a day, the record was fifteen if he counted the late night runs.

Alfredo surveyed the area, and found an abandoned apartment block just down the street. A third story room offered the best position, so he took up shack there. It had taken only three days for Alfredo to be ready to complete the job, but then his target disappeared.

When Alfredo was first observing the store, he caught a glimpse of the target trailing closer and he considered doing it right there but decided against it. Too many witnesses to deal with. So Alfredo watched him leave, and now he was regretting that choice. He watched for another three days, silent and still, for the target to come and he never did.

His pattern changed suddenly but it was the only place Alfredo knew he should be. There was no other place in the city that Alfredo could find that the target frequented. So he waited there, eyes watching but his mind racing.

He’d been so sure this would go off without a hitch, he thought by now he’d have enough money to settle down somewhere outside of the city. But now he was planning his escape. If he failed, he was dead; and he’d worked too hard to get where he was just to end up as a body washing ashore.

Alfredo was too good to end up like that.

He trusted his gut and waited. He stayed in the apartment, never letting the small cafe out of his sight.

After hours of waiting, he was rewarded.

He instantly recognised the puff of black hair bouncing towards the store, he jumped into position.

The target was tall and lanky, there wasn’t much too him and Alfredo was wondering if it would’ve been easier to just punch the kid a few times instead of wasting a bullet. Although, the target didn’t seem like much of a threat, he was a Fake. That made him more dangerous than Alfredo would ever know, and he was expensive. Fredo could last off this paycheck for years.

So Alfredo lined up the shot. Through the scope he watched the target take a coffee cup from someone within the stall. Such a mundane place to die in. The target was still as he watched the traffic and drank his coffee.

Alfredo breathed in, he finger gently resting on the trigger. Everything was just right. He held his breath and squeezed.

#fake achievement hunter crew #FAHC #Trevor Collins #alfredo diaz #geoff ramsey #Jack Pattillo #michael jones #Gavin Free #ryan haywood #jeremy dooley #it's you who hung the moon series #alfreyco

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wildstormoralhistory · 7 years

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Director’s Cut Material #7- In Living Color

The following Director's Cut material is a very special one that I hope you all enjoy. Colorist Joseph M. Damon was kind enough to share his unique WildStorm journey that really shows what it was like to try and become a part of the WS group and see a dream realized. If you've been to some comic conventions, you might have seen him around as he usually assists Humberto Ramos out on the road.  Joseph and I connected after the manuscript was finalized so I was able to sneak in a couple of his quotes in the proper book but the more I tried to edit, the less I wanted to break up his story throughout the different chapters. So here it all is as one piece and my sincere thanks to Mr. Damon for sharing it.

Joseph M. Damon (Colorist): Outside of being the fanboy buying comic books at my local comic store in the Bay Area, I'd attend local comic shows, in particular Wonder Con (in Oakland at that time), SDCC and there was an Image convention in LA. This was circa 1993-1994. At the shows, WildStorm Fine Arts was a booth selling ashcans, color guides from Joe Chiodo, Iris prints, and original artwork. At that time [it] was run by Joe Mendoza (Whilce Portacio's brother in-law and [the] character Dozer was based on him in Wetworks), who was working as editor at Homage studios as well. I asked a ton of questions about color guides and the process behind them, what an iris print was (I purchased one of Travis' Burnout), drooled buckets over the original artwork from the books that were for sale as well (which of course led later to me buying original art). Joe gave me a smile and his card, which I still have, and I asked him about some of the artists. He gave me a second extension which was for the "The Pit" where at that time a lot of the new artists like J. Scott Campbell and Travis Charest sat. I stared at the card and within a week called in just to see what would happen. I got reception, asked for Joe and he's out of the office, asked to be transferred to the extension for the Pit. Not thinking I'd get anywhere, it rang and rang and then I heard a voice say "Pit", I asked to talk to Jeff Campbell, and they said hold on, and then I heard, "This is Jeff" and I just start telling him that I'm a big fan of Gen 13 and his work on The Art of Homage Studios book and hoped to meet him at a show and get his autograph and show him some of my work. Jeff said good luck and then before hanging up, I figure I'd gone this far, why not see where else I can take this... and asked for Travis Charest. Jeff said sure hold on and then passed the phone to Travis, we talked real briefly and hung up and I just sat in awe for a few minutes... and that was the moment where, sacking up and being assertive just made me feel ten feet tall talking to people whose names I saw in my favorite comics. Now I just needed to put in the work and find a way to work there. Around the same time I met colorist Brian Haberlin, talked with him on process and tools/applications used by the studio. I found out the best way to practice working on color guides to be like Joe Chiodo was to make larger copies of ashcan pages and color them. So I mimicked a lot of what I saw in Joe Chiodo's work with multiple light sources and shading, light direction. I had a good portion of guides from Gen 13 mini-series #1, WildC.A.T.S. #5 and thought I was ready, so I found out at that time Bill Kaplan was in charge of submissions. I met him at a show, told him my name and showed my samples and my work was critiqued and it was ripped apart. Bad approach, terrible color theory, bad lighting. I listened and then commented on referencing Joe Chiodo's work, and he just looked at me and said thanks for letting me see your work and keep trying. Shortly after I met Steve Oliff and some of his guys from IHOC (International House of Color which would soon form Olyoptics), showed my stuff and also looked at his stuff from Akira and early Image color guides. He was really supportive, told me what media to use if coloring by hand and looking to Photoshop as digital was where it was at. I had an Amiga 500 and used color applications like digipaint, so Jumping to a Mac with Photoshop 3.0 was the next step.

I actually tried out for WildStorm back in early '90s when the studio had a talent search. Really didn’t have too much experience, but enough to get a call to show up and take the test. Met early WildStorm FX members, took the test given by Alex Sinclair and noodled the hell out of it and didn’t even finish in the allotted time, so [I] didn’t get the job. Come years later, I became good friends with several WildStorm FX members, Ian Hannin, James Rochelle, Jeremy Cox, Laura Martin (Depuy then) and Ben Dimagmaliw and heard about Andy Hartnell’s coloring spot opening up since he was writing Danger Girl. Send in samples, get a call to come take the test, fly down from San Francisco to San Diego, take the test, don’t finish due to catching a flight back home but get the file saved to a zip disk. Come home finish the test, send the file back in the morning, and then get the call that if I want the position its mine. I was currently testing video games at SEGA of America. [I] gave notice and started at WildStorm after relocating to San Diego a month later. Day 1 at WildStorm, [I] get seated in the open area in “The Pit” facing Jim Lee’s office and to my left was Travis Charest & Tom McWeeney’s office… no pressure…breath right. Absolutely not, since my friend Ben Dimagmaliw had the Wizard magazine black and white picture of Jim Lee from the Top Ten and pinned it to the board in front of my desk…so now I had Jim staring at me. I kept it there to motivate [me] even when Jim would walk by and I was totally in awe…which I finally lost the fanboy-ness after four months. I still talked to Jeff Campbell, Scott Williams, Travis Charest and Rich Friend when they weren’t working to at least break the ice. Alex Sinclair and Nick Bell took me under their wings and showed me the essentials but soon after I got a lot of real tools to use as a colorist from my fellow colorists. I'd go in early to talk/watch day shift (Joel Benjamin, Tony Washington,etc) and at night talk with Justin Ponsor, Matt Millia, Eric Guerrero, etc., learning which artists like cut & grad or who liked airbrush, which books needed lots of color holds and knock outs and which books had none. Slow at first but was ramped up and rendering within a month and by the time I left, rendering two [pages] per day. But still, [I] was slow by comparison to others who could do three pages per day.

I was a huge fan of WildStorm's books as I picked [up] all the titles as they came out- from Wetworks, StormWatch, Gen 13 to WildC.A.T.S. WildStorm had the formula to take my money every month they came out with new books. From the first day I started, learning to flat books was the greatest thing ever. But that was the immediate glamour of working for Jim Lee. The first time I got to render a Gen 13 or Divine Right page was pretty cool, but while cool, you had a lot to do in a little time, so you turned into a machine to meet deadlines. Certain key items that I got to work on that stood out were Gary Larson’s “There’s a Hair in My Dirt”, coloring and art directing a ton of trading cards with David Baron, art directing Gen 12 issues with Eric Garcia and coloring Joe Madureira’s Wildcats #1 Grifter Variant was a highlight as I was not only a huge Grifter fan, but a fan of Joe’s work. WildStorm FX had a lot of artwork to get done each day. Comic Books, trading Cards, specialty items like posters, DVD inserts, Gamepro or PSM magazine covers, Flash animated teasers for upcoming new release launches like Travis Charest’s Wildcats volume 2, strategy guide walkthroughs, etc. We did a lot and it did change day to day. Sometimes you knew you were flatting four pages and rendering two pages. Sometimes you colored four trading cards. I was hired on for the nightshift and worked four to midnight or later to meet deadlines. So my hours were interesting to say the least. At the end of my first year at the studio, my son, Niko was born, so challenges of a newborn, and being alone in San Diego got to be very tough for my then wife, so she went back to the bay area to be with family. Even with weekend trips back to see my family, shortly after my year mark, I made arrangements to return back to the bay area and return to my family and work in the video game industry. So I of course placed my two weeks notice and left the studio but continued to freelance for off and on for a bit and continued to freelance for Image comics.

What made WildStorm amazing was the people. The whole family worked together to get work done each day. Every person in WildStorm had a key role and made that place great. So while you think you have Jim Lee in drawing WildC.A.T.S, Scott Williams inking a page, Alex Sinclair coloring another, you have the rest of the studio doing their daily tasks… and a studio filled with laughter, music, discussions of who the Chargers or Padres played the night before, what movie flopped, or what new appetizer was on the menu at Moon Doggies Grill…this was day in/day out WildStorm. What Jim had set up was incredible to work for and some of that disappeared when DC took over. The initial announcement to us was a full company outing, where we were all told of the sale of the company to DC and what was changing and what would stay the same. Initially for me, there was some heartbreak, simply for what the mission statement of Image Comics was and why the founding fathers did what they did. WildStorm was a huge part of why Image was so big in the '90s and now it was gone to an extent since Time Warner was now the boss, a conglomerate, where before it was one man, figuratively speaking. DC seemed very cool to work for. All hourly employees got a raise based on cost of living at that time, which was good, as it got me closer to what I was making prior in the bay area. Another benefit was employees now received comp copies every week of every DC item that shipped, be it a TPB, Hardcover, comics and sometimes toys/statues. Which when you’re 25 and a comic collector, is great. But for me it was close to the end.

The experience was, best said, as a once in a lifetime, when it came to being listed amongst the best of the best in Artists/Inkers/Writers/Colorists. Few are able to say that. Even with very tight deadlines, (Fedex daily by 5PM), and long hours to make sure that the next shift had all the work ready for them, working along side the best was just that, the best. Aside from taking the knowledge of tips and tricks that WildStorm taught you as part of WildStorm FX, the friendships that I still have with my co-workers. Some are that of a hey, or head nod, while others are huge hugs annually at various comic cons, or random chats and discussions on Facebook or on the phone. The biggest take-away I can comment on is hard work/work ethics, and keeping your name fresh and in the public eye every month- in Previews, in at least one book, a variant cover, an interview, whatever. Those that stay relevant are those that continue to work every month delivering content. If you step out or take a break from the industry, it takes you five times the amount of work to get back to where you were, as there are pencillers, inkers, and digital colorists ready to take your spot, for cheaper rates. I still moonlight in the comic industry as a Manager/Handler but that’s simply because I'm still a huge fan of comics and those that create them.

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