tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-84296622884259799732024-03-07T22:19:34.800-08:00Strike the SetLies and VaudevilleMauricehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10945418017382114771noreply@blogger.comBlogger81125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8429662288425979973.post-54356537480407126112012-02-20T14:17:00.000-08:002012-02-20T14:17:54.071-08:00Rachael, alias "Maurice" alias "The Phantom of Broadway" alias "Gun Street Girl" hereafter referred to as Rachael, was to meet her adversary in Newark, New Jersey in a building near the Port Authority but still within jurisdiction.<br />
<br />
The meeting was being brokered by Barry alias "The Masque of Red Death" alias "The Black Cat". The goal was a meeting between Rachael and Daniel Clark, aka Capo, head of a major Crime Syndicate to end a war between her, a splinter member, the Syndicate, and several rival gangs. <br />
<br />
<br />
Rachael was left to wait, guarded by two unidentified gunmen of the Syndicate. Our sources indicate she was searched thoroughly, and that a handgun was found and confiscated. <br />
<br />
<br />
In time, she was escorted by the gunmen into a conference room with a view of the water.<br />
<br />
Capo smiled at Rachael and spread his arms wide, as if to embrace her, or to show his lack of fear. "My dear Rachael to see you again is such a pleasure! You've caused me quite some trouble."<br />
<br />
Rachael stared sullenly at Capo. "Is Brian safe?"<br />
<br />
"Safe as any lunatic in this city."<br />
<br />
"That is not what I meant."<br />
<br />
"Ah, but that is all you are getting."<br />
<br />
"You think this will stop when I'm dead? That I won't be the last one to turn on you? That there won't be others?"<br />
<br />
He laughed. "The problem became so simple once you spilled your guts all over the blog. It was clear why you were so different. You were never one of us. Do you know how few of us turn back from our path? Do you know how few proxies ever switch sides? None, for long. And never successfully. When you know what the Boss is like, you...stop. Stop whatever it is you were doing. You are an anomaly, an accident. A sideshow freak. Coal amongst the diamonds."<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
Rachael listened impassively, her face showing nothing.<br />
<br />
"Goodbye, Rachael." he raised a gun lowered it at her face. Walking towards her. "Get on your knees, or I'll order his death."<br />
<br />
She got down to her knees. He walked up to her, starting to breathe heavily.<br />
<br />
"Look up at me." He aimed the gun at her face. She looked up impassively<br />
<br />
and stabbed him in the wrist with a fountain pen.<br />
<br />
He screeched, and quickly she wrested the gun out of his hands, bit him in the....<br />
<br />
in the...<br />
<br />
She bit him in the reproductive organs, through his khakis, pushed him over, and shot him in the face.<br />
<br />
<br />
She executed both guards who ran into the room, one shot after another. Her face blank, she smashed his phone with her heel and to walked out of the room.<br />
<br />
<br />
Barry was waiting for her. He held his gun in shaking hands aimed at her chest. The two squared off. Barry shaking.<br />
<br />
"Rachael don't come any closer, I-<i>I-</i>I'll shoot!"<br />
<br />
"Barry, its okay, its okay...I don't want to hurt you. Run away. Hurry, more are coming soon. You don't deserve this."<br />
<br />
"Rachael I-"<br />
<br />
"Barry, for the love of God, Go! Get out of here!"<br />
<br />
Barry looked torn, but lowered his gun and fled.<br />
<br />
The entrance was blocked by two dark cars, men waiting for her.<br />
<br />
She headed for the roof, planning to take the fire escape.<br />
<br />
But waiting for her there<br />
<br />
was me, with a gun.<br />
<br />
Her face grew pale, and she stared at me. Like she'd seen a ghost<br />
<br />
or an monster, perhaps.<br />
<br />
------<br />
<br />
Rachael faced down Van Helsing on the rooftop of the man she killed.<br />
<br />
I had my gun aimed square at her heart. She gaped at me like a fish dumped onto a hatchery floor.<br />
<br />
"Brian why are you"<br />
<br />
"My names not Brian. I'm Van Helsing. I'm a Fighter."<br />
<br />
I had been told about everything she'd done. She killed both of her lovers, Brian and Maurice. Poor girl thought I was Brian, that I was her dead lover. Her action had lead to the destruction of a cell of rational Agents waging a covert war on the "fanatics" of the city proper. She'd stopped that and had began killing people and causing the youth of the area to wage wars on each other. When she was dead this whole thing would be over. <br />
<br />
<br />
And now the stage was empty. Just me and her. The way it had started. The way it should have always been. I was too weak to act before now, too hesitant.<br />
<br />
But now I am a Fighter.<br />
<br />
She drew her own gun and we faced each other off, the city in the distance.<br />
<br />
<br />
"Brian, remember me, please...Brian..."<br />
<br />
"Stop that. Show's over, Gun Street Girl."<br />
<br />
<br />
"What-"<br />
<br />
"I've been reading your blog. Following your movements. For months. And now its time, girlie."<br />
<br />
"Brian, you have to remember me" she started crying, crocodile tears "Brian I love you I always loved you we can make it together please Brian, don't make me do this--"<br />
<br />
"Do what? Kill me? Like Maurice? Like Brian? Like all these city kids?"<br />
<br />
"Brian---" a sob.<br />
<br />
I cocked my gun. I'd forgotten.<br />
<br />
time passed. <br />
<br />
She smiled at me "I know you can't Brian. You have to remember me, somewhere in there. You have to know. Remember the night by the river?"<br />
<br />
She took a step towards me.<br />
<br />
"The night when you cried in my arms...you were so scared, so nervous but you were so brave and so beautiful...do you remember the day we went to the fair, and you were too scared to ride the loop de loop, but you won me a stuffed tiger at the Strong Man contest?"<br />
<br />
I took a step backwards but she kept moving towards me, telling me all the tales of Brian's life, his story, her tale she had built around me, all these lies, all this showmanship. I almost wanted to be him, to be this Brian she had created for me, this part she wanted me to fill.<br />
<br />
<br />
We were face to face, finally. our guns were lowered. Ten steps apart, maybe.<br />
<br />
<br />
She smiled at me. She...Rachael is beautiful. She has the weight of the world on her shoulders, sometimes. She looks like a woman close to death, most of the time. But when she smiles...<br />
<br />
I could have lived a lie for her, almost. I could have believed any tale she told me.<br />
<br />
The sky began to darken, as if the world was reacting to this encounter by bathing us in twilight. <br />
<br />
She reached out, to touch me. Her hand was empty. I reached out to touch her...<br />
<br />
her face froze into a look of horror, revulsion, dread. She shrieked. <br />
<br />
"He's here! He's Real!"<br />
<br />
Her eyes went out of focus, almost as if she was looking behind me.<br />
<br />
She raised her gun arm and I reacted by instinct<br />
<br />
and blew a hole in her chest straight through her heart.<br />
<br />
She never looked at me, while she collapsed, while she gasped for breath. She was always looking just past me.<br />
<br />
There was nothing there.<br />
<br />
Another, just another set of Lies and Vaudville.<br />
<br />
She gapsed for shallow breaths for a few more moments. I...I apologized to her. She focused, seeming to tear away from whatever was drawing her. She reached out her hand and I took it in mine.<br />
<br />
"Br...brian...please...forget about this. I'm sorry...." a cough.<br />
<br />
"Fuck...I guess he is real..." she gurgled, almost laughter. Her voice changed, subtly when she spoke again. "Man, I don't even have...any theater puns...for this...fuck..."<br />
<br />
and then she was dead.<br />
<br />
I closed her eyes, picked up the casing, left her gun and took her phone.<br />
<br />
She left a goodbye post, but I deleted it. You people don't need any more lies.<br />
<br />
And that's it. Another dreamer killed by this city. Another senseless death in a war bigger than all of us. Another Piece off the board.<br />
<br />
<br />
Just another show that closed the curtains, turned out the lights, packed up, and locked the theater. <br />
<br />
Heh, Rach, see? I did one for you. <br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
You won't be hearing from me again.<br />
<br />
So...Goodnight. Mauricehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10945418017382114771noreply@blogger.com14tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8429662288425979973.post-48034139452849762042012-02-20T07:24:00.000-08:002012-02-20T07:24:47.113-08:00When the Chips are DownI woke up this morning to the sound of my hotel room door breaking open.<br />
<br />
I pulled the gun I had hidden behind the pillow as Barry rushed into the room.<br />
<br />
He stood across the room from me. We both had our guns raised, not moving.<br />
<br />
"Hey Maurice."<br />
<br />
"Call me Rachael, Barry."<br />
<br />
"Its nothing personal Rach. I got ordered. Lover the gun, come on. I'm not here to kill you or anythign please?" pleading in his voice. Under orders.<br />
<br />
It's Barry. And it is time.<br />
<br />
"Just, let me tell everyone. Let me tell them that I'm going. Please, Barry?"<br />
<br />
"Fine, you got ten minutes. Don't take too long though. Capo's pissed."<br />
<br />
So it's time for the deal. In an hour and a half the deal will be done.<br />
<br />
Barry...is a good man. I don't want any of you mad at him, okay? He's just as stuck as any of us.<br />
<br />
I'll keep you updated as I can.Mauricehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10945418017382114771noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8429662288425979973.post-81630985456845569422012-02-17T09:59:00.000-08:002012-02-17T09:59:27.190-08:00A lady is tuning a guitar in a darkened room, one lightbulb above her. A handsome man runs his fingers over the piano keys. They smile at each other and begin to play, their voices mixing as one. <br />
<br />
<br />
---- <br />
<br />
If you've been<a href="http://floatingontheendlesssea.blogspot.com/"> kicked in</a> or <a href="http://awandandaprayer.blogspot.com/">abused </a>or <a href="http://theaflacduckisanabomination.blogspot.com/">mistreated </a>or <a href="http://livinginthehouseofusher.blogspot.com/">misused</a>.<br />
You were told there was <a href="http://somethingtoleavebehind.blogspot.com/">nowhere to go but up for you</a>.<br />
If you've been <a href="http://puppethero.blogspot.com/">hurt </a>or you've been <a href="http://viveredisce-cogitamori.blogspot.com/">betrayed</a>.<br />
If you've been <a href="http://blamedavid.blogspot.com/">fucked </a>or you've been <a href="http://fateworsethandeath.blogspot.com/">displaced</a>.<br />
Then you were <a href="http://fearofablankplanet90.blogspot.com/">told </a>it's probably been your <a href="http://saintoftheshadow.blogspot.com/">fault </a>anyway.<br />
<br />
But your <a href="http://kissingunder.blogspot.com/">Hustler subscription </a>or your <a href="http://liveinthelightfight.blogspot.com/">Xanax prescription</a> make you feel <a href="http://neverendingmarathon.blogspot.com/">lonelier instead</a>.<br />
You don't want to hear about all the <a href="http://thee1eventhhour.blogspot.com/">starving children</a>.<br />
You don't want to be told it's<a href="http://dreamsindarkness91.blogspot.com/2010/05/and-life-in-general.html"> all in your head</a>.<br />
Cuz if it's <a href="http://whatyouareinthedark.blogspot.com/">all in your head</a>,<br />
<br />
that's terrible<br />
<br />
<br />
I saw a junkie laying in a <a href="http://nightcrawler-observeandterminate.blogspot.com/">puddle of his own blood </a>last week,<br />
I saw a <a href="http://gildedfables.blogspot.com/">cyclist get hit by a car</a>.<br />
I saw a <a href="http://worstjestever.blogspot.com/">homeless guy chug a bottle of mouthwash on Christmas eve</a>.<br />
No, <a href="http://fateworsethandeath.blogspot.com/">you can never fall too far.</a><br />
<br />
You can by a <a href="http://takethemyth.blogspot.com/2011/10/hope-spot.html">Salad Glove</a> and you can by an <a href="http://noplansnoprototypenobackup.blogspot.com/">iPod</a>.<br />
You can <a href="http://youpaywedeliver.blogspot.com/">sell that shit to Bookmans</a> when<a href="http://afacelessking.blogspot.com/"> your wife dies</a> and <a href="http://denndietodtenreitenschnell.blogspot.com/">you lose your job</a><br />
and you can <a href="http://youandthestarsareone.blogspot.com/">hope it gets better </a>and you can <a href="http://simultaneouslymeaningfulandworthless.blogspot.com/">follow your dreams</a><br />
but <a href="http://brightconundrum.blogspot.com/">hope </a>is for <a href="http://despairpalesbeforeme.blogspot.com/2010/10/introduction.html">presidents </a>and <a href="http://ariadne-timetowakeup.blogspot.com/">dreams </a>are for people who are sleeping.<br />
<br />
<br />
My <a href="http://signedsealedandhanddelivered.blogspot.com/">friend </a>Erin says it best, "<a href="http://www.blogger.com/goog_1666033696">we're all two or three bad decisions away</a><br />
<a href="http://maybesane.blogspot.com/">from becoming the ones we fear and pity</a>"<br />
and Tony says it's <a href="http://bearingbadnews.blogspot.com/">important to bear some witness when you can</a><br />
<br />
that’s not hard to do in the city that I live in<br />
<br />
You don't have it any <a href="http://recordsofanimpossibility.blogspot.com/">better</a>. <br />
you don't have it any <a href="http://theslendergangsta.blogspot.com/">worse</a>.<br />
You're an i<a href="http://themorninghunter.blogspot.com/">rreplaceable human soul with your own understanding of what it means to suffer</a>.<br />
And that’s a huge<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
huuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuge <br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
bummer.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
----<br />
<br />
the piano is shut, the lights turned off.Mauricehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10945418017382114771noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8429662288425979973.post-15146502725458581132012-02-15T19:19:00.000-08:002012-02-15T19:26:17.113-08:00<span style="font-size: large;"><b>Scene 1</b></span><br />
<br />
<br />
<i></i><br />
<i></i><br />
<i><br />
A New York street on a foggy gloomy morning.</i> RACHAEL, <i>her hair black and straight, enters stage right. </i>SPENCER<i> is walking almost aimlessly, unaware of her presence. She calls out faintly to him.</i><br />
<br />
SPENCER <i>looks up, dull with confusion. </i><br />
<br />
RACHAEL <i>has gotten closer, sure that it is him. She reaches out a hand, but lets it hover.</i><br />
<br />
Rachael: "...Spencer."<br />
<br />
<i>Slowly, too slowly, </i>SPENCER <i> turns around, struck by some sort of dim recongnition.</i><br />
<br />
Spencer: "Rachael...?"<br />
<br />
Rachael: Spencer. <br />
<br />
RACHAEL <i>touches his hand, gently. Cold.</i><br />
<br />
Spencer: Hey...Been a while, huh?<i> A grin, weak, unreal.</i><br />
<br />
Rachael: "Things were different then. Everything was so...We're not safe out here." <i>She shivers</i><br />
<br />
Spencer: "Not safe anywhere, these days. But how does coffee sound?"<br />
<br />
RACHAEL <i>smiles wanly and nods. She has yet to let go of his hand.</i><br />
<br />
Rachael: "So cold..." <br />
<br />
SPENCER <i>gives her hand a a comforting, tight squeeze, turning forward so she doesn't have to see the pained look that flashes through his eyes.</i> RACHAEL <i>wraps both of her cold hands around his. </i><br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><b>Scene Two</b></span><i><br />
</i><br />
<i>They approach a little place. One of her friends from the bakery days owns it. No one would know it, no one would even wonder at the two of them in there. It was a quiet but unobtrusive cafe.</i><br />
<br />
Spencer: "... I'd ask how things have been but I keep up on the blogs I'm... fuck, I'm sorry, for what it's worth."<br />
<br />
Rachael: "I...I am also sorry."<br />
<br />
Spencer: "For what?" <i>That casual, faked smile is back, the smile he's spent hours practicing, looking in the mirror.</i><br />
<br />
Rachael: I know that look. You don't need to use it on me." <i>-beat- </i> "I am sorry...that you had to live like this. That you..."<br />
<br />
<i>A pause.</i><br />
<br />
Spencer: I... I don't know what else to do." <i>his voice breaks, and he swallows, looking downwards, trying to avoid eye contact.</i><br />
<br />
Rachael: "I...I don't either. But...I think we are alike enough that we can be honest with each other. No need to act. Just...us."<br />
<br />
Spencer: "I... can try...? There's not much there to be honest about anymore. Not... lately."<br />
<br />
Rachael: "Perhaps a game then? a question for a question?"<br />
<br />
Spencer: "... sure."<br />
<br />
Rachael: "What are you feeling, right now?"<br />
<br />
A long pause. SPENCER look conflicted, as if he is dragging something up from the deeps.<br />
<br />
Spencer: "... Afraid. I... I know. I just know that I don't have a lot of time left. I d-don't...I don't w-want to die."<br />
<br />
Rachael: <i>She smiles gently. </i>"I am glad...that you feel fear, I mean. And sometimes I feel the same way. But for now, we are alive."<br />
<br />
Spencer: "... I don't know what's worse. That I'm not sure that it's real or...Or that I'm kind of... looking forward to it. To not hurting anymore."<br />
<br />
Rachael: "I wish I had a good answer. But I think we all feel like that, when it comes."<br />
<br />
Spencer: "How... how about you?" <br />
<br />
<i>Spencer looks up, pale amber lost. Empty.</i><br />
<br />
Rachael: "I'm...conflicted. Fragmented. Unsure of a lot of things. Sure of some others. Afraid, excited, unhappy. Lonely."<i><br />
</i><br />
<i>He smiles at her. Or tries to. </i><br />
<br />
Spencer: "I...I think I understand that. As much as someone like me can."<br />
<br />
RACHAEL <i>smiles. A pause looms over the table. She opens her mouth, then closes it again. Shes taut, extremely nervous. She opens and closes her mouth again.</i> SPENCER <i>stops, frowning slightly, reaching over the table to take one of her hands into his own.</i><br />
<br />
Spencer: "It's alright. It's... alright."<br />
<br />
Rachael: "I'm afraid...Do you know about Catholic reconciliation?""<br />
<br />
Spencer: "Sorry. Cultkid." <br />
<br />
Rachael: "The idea is that if you should die, that because you have bared you soul to a priest, that you will have a clean slate for the end. Do you think it is better to do that, or let dark things that could hurt others never be known?"<br />
<br />
Spencer: "... whatever makes you feel better in the end. That's all that matters."<br />
<i><br />
A pause.</i><br />
<br />
Rachael: "Did you read the interviews? The ones with Ben, I mean."<br />
<br />
Spencer: "... yeah. I did. You had it worse than me, even-"<br />
<br />
Rachael: "But there was a part. There was a person I mentioned, that I said I...I was attracted to. Am attracted to. Should I tell the person, even if I might be dead in a week, and they may never return my affections?"<br />
<br />
<i>His gaze softens, and he looks... sadly blank. </i><br />
<br />
Spencer: "I'm not someone... that would understand something like that..."<br />
<br />
Rachael: "But what would you do?"<br />
<br />
Spencer: "I'd...... you... have to do what's best for you first...?" <br />
<br />
Rachael: "I don't know what that is." <br />
<br />
<i>She stares at him for a long moment. </i><br />
<br />
Rachael: "Spencer...its you."<br />
<br />
Spencer: "It's what? I'm... what?"<br />
<br />
RACHAEL <i>smiles. A fake sorrowful smile</i>.<br />
<br />
Rachael: "You...are the only one who can answer this question. No one else...could understand the question...the way you can."<br />
<br />
Spencer: "I find that a-awfully hard to believe. I'm usually bad at answering questions."<br />
<br />
Rachael: "Do you love Elaine?" <br />
<br />
Spencer: "... I don't want her to get hurt. Just like I don't want August or Lori or Sam or June... to get hurt." <i>He looks downwards. </i>"If... if one of 'em died, I'd want to die too. Isn't... isn't that enough...?"<br />
<br />
RACHAEL<i> nods to herself.</i><br />
<br />
Rachael: "Spencer...I just want you to know, that I would feel the same way...if anything happened. You are a good man. Please, don't ever forget that, just in case..."<br />
<br />
RACHAEL <i>starts to ready herself to leave. </i>SPENCER<i>'s brow furrows in confusion, but something that's at least similar to resolve seems to set in his eyes as he takes on of her hands into both of his.</i><br />
<br />
Spencer: "Don't go."<br />
<br />
RACHAEL <i>stops. She sits down, quiet, waiting. No emotion visible. Just waiting, not hostile. </i><br />
<br />
Spencer: "I...I finally read the play through. The one you gave me? Sorry it took so long, because it... it takes me a while and...It was wonderful. I wish I could write like that. Was like... it was real. Magic."<br />
<br />
RACHAEL <i> smiles. Genuine.</i><br />
<br />
Rachael: "It was nothing. Just a relic of a bygone time. I'm glad...that you are the one who owns it now." <br />
<br />
Spencer: "I still think that it was too much. It... meant too much. Even I can feel that." <br />
A pause.His voice drops low. <br />
<br />
Spencer: "Do you know why the payment has to mean something? Why I don't take money?"<br />
<br />
Rachael: "Why?"<br />
<br />
Spencer: "... because if I surround myself with things that mean something to other people, I forget about not having anything that means something for myself. Sort of pathetic, really..."<br />
<br />
Rachael: "Then, take the play as my gift to you. And then, it will mean something to you." <br />
<br />
Spencer: "... maybe it already does mean something." <br />
<br />
<i>They quietly smile at each other.</i><br />
<br />
Spencer: "... you really look good when you smile like that." <br />
<br />
<i>A long pause. No one moves.</i><br />
<br />
Spencer: "I'm sorry. I'm so, so sorry. Sorry for not being able to help you more. Help anyone more. I never did enough. Especially not for you."<br />
<br />
Rachael: "You've done so much for me. You...What I told you..."<br />
<br />
RACHAEL s<i>tops and smiles. She reaches over and kisses him on the cheek. </i><br />
<br />
Rachael: "Whatever happens, this is how I will remember you. Please, remember me kindly.Goodbye, Spencer."<br />
<br />
Spencer: "... you're not going to come out of this alive, are you...?"<br />
<br />
<i> Something flashes in his eyes. Fear?</i><br />
<br />
Rachael: "I hope not! I have a lot I still want to do. I've never left the country, never climbed a mountain, never...never got married, had a child..." <br />
<i><br />
her voice almost breaks </i><br />
<br />
Rachael: "I have much to do, still."<br />
<br />
Spencer: "... I want to see you again, alright?"<br />
<br />
<i>His gaze suddenly becomes pointed. Childishly stubborn. </i><br />
<br />
Spencer: "Promise me."<br />
<br />
<i>She gently takes his face in both her hands. </i><br />
<br />
Rachael: "Then...you have to promise me, as well. Okay?"<br />
<br />
Spencer: "I think I can survive for a little longer at the very least."<br />
<br />
<i>He stands, hesitating for a second before hugging her.<br />
</i><br />
Spencer: "... I'm allowed to do this, right?"<br />
<br />
Rachael: "of course."<br />
<br />
<i>RACHAEL hugs him back, tightly</i>.<br />
<br />
Rachael: " Goodbye, Spencer."<br />
<br />
RACHAEL <i>lets go. Exit stage left. The stage darkens on</i> SPENCER <i>staring at her coffee cup, rolling it in his hands. </i>Mauricehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10945418017382114771noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8429662288425979973.post-73123636831994873552012-02-12T12:18:00.000-08:002012-02-12T12:18:22.187-08:00Cities never really change. They grow they gain buildings but every city is like some great best, some slowly breathing monolith crawling towards the water. <br />
<br />
But New York is quiet.<br />
<br />
<br />
I'm in hiding. there is still some time before I am expected.<br />
<br />
I have...a few things to do before I go. A few things to set up, to worry over.<br />
<br />
I will be in contact again.Mauricehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10945418017382114771noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8429662288425979973.post-16107919120991719622012-02-08T10:33:00.000-08:002012-02-08T10:33:00.578-08:00Dearest Rachael,<br />
<br />
Do you realize your spelling of your name is uncommon? Most these days leave out the second e. Interesting choice your parents made. <br />
<br />
You may be wondering about how I found your email, or why I'm emailing you when I could just send a car or two of boys to Marcus' home. It is not as if his Mansion is secret. It is a public location and you've been there for three days at the writing of this letter. But if I did that, you'd probably shoot half of them, steal the car they came in and go back to writing soul poetry as you wander America. Again.<br />
<br />
So I decided to go with a classic. A movie villain plot, you might say. <br />
<br />
We can't get you that easily. But do you know who can be easily snuffed out whenever we want?<br />
<br />
Brian. Brian is easy to find. He is such a good listener, but I am sure you know that.<br />
<br />
So this is what we will do. Brian will be watched carefully by two of my finest hitmen for the next fourteen days. Ah, fuck it, I'm generous I'll give you until the twentieth. You come here and then we can put this mess to bed.<br />
<br />
We would have let you go, Miss Sandings, if you hadn't started this gang war. Do you know how many husks are dead because of you? Do you know how many young boys from the Barrio, from the streets are dead because you set them against us? <br />
<br />
Forgive me, I rant.<br />
<br />
So here is how it will go. You will come back to the city. You will come to the location in he attachment file. Brian will be allowed to live. You will be given peace.<br />
<br />
Or you can try to fight us, if you think you can. I'm not particular. <br />
<br />
<br />
Get Well Soon,<br />
<br />
CapoMauricehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10945418017382114771noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8429662288425979973.post-85509662429641996232012-02-08T08:32:00.000-08:002012-02-08T08:32:29.051-08:00<a href="http://aloneamongthewreck.wordpress.com/2012/02/07/gun-street-girl/">http://aloneamongthewreck.wordpress.com/2012/02/07/gun-street-girl/</a>Mauricehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10945418017382114771noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8429662288425979973.post-28236894092535024582012-02-06T13:03:00.000-08:002012-02-06T13:03:20.114-08:00<a href="http://aloneamongthewreck.wordpress.com/2012/02/05/clap-hands/">The Interview did not go well</a><br />
<br />
Its my fault but I can't bring myself to tell him that<br />
<br />
I was planning on leaving today but..I saw him in the library last night. He was sitting up, watching, waiting.<br />
<br />
He's haunted too. He has also seen his world fall apart. He also has lashed out.<br />
<br />
Perhaps he will understand me, in time.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
In any case, there will be another interview.<br />
<br />
He saved my life <br />
<br />
He deserves my honesty.Mauricehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10945418017382114771noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8429662288425979973.post-31381029717888404002012-02-04T19:09:00.000-08:002012-02-04T19:09:14.653-08:00<a href="http://aloneamongthewreck.wordpress.com/2012/02/02/a-little-drop-of-poison/">Well this is embarrassing</a><br />
<br />
At least I made it.<br />
<br />
It was a close thing, for a while there.<br />
<br />
I spent day after day hazy, delirious. I barely remember my time in Floirida and I'm unsure as to how I made it here safely.<br />
<br />
My arm still hurts when I don't think about it <br />
<br />
I owe a great debt to Benjamin, however. He's a good man.<br />
<br />
I am agreeing to do an interview soon as payment, so keep an eye out for that.<br />
<br />
I'm sorry if I've worried any of you.Mauricehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10945418017382114771noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8429662288425979973.post-33525662668897816092012-01-12T15:09:00.000-08:002012-01-12T15:09:34.414-08:00I'm somewhere warm<br />
<br />
I realized today I can't lift my right arm over my head.<br />
<br />
I ignore it, ignore the sounds the car makes the stiffness in my body the sky turning from light to dark to light again<br />
<br />
never stopping.<br />
<br />
I paused at the rest stop where Wolf saved me.<br />
<br />
I stood in front of Schrodinger's old home.<br />
<br />
I drove to the ocean and turned around and headed back East<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
I can't live like this this this isnt life either.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
why am i even doing thisMauricehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10945418017382114771noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8429662288425979973.post-45542246594121294932012-01-03T21:01:00.000-08:002012-01-03T21:01:09.252-08:00New Year's EveFeeling stronger. Gangster rap reinforces my spine. Laugh if you want, I still need music need art. <br />
<br />
The party was what I expected. But also, different.<br />
<br />
My hand still hurts, though I see no injuries. My injuries are starting to rack up. I...<br />
<br />
I don't know how much longer I can keep going. One arm grazed by a bullet the other...<br />
<br />
well. let's talk about New Year's Eve.<br />
<br />
----<br />
<br />
The party was in a Loop. I've never been in one of these before. I must say, I don't really believe in supernatural stuff. I've only ever experienced Slender. But the entrance was where I was told it would be.<br />
<br />
I entered the party clothed in a red dress. I had decided if I was going to make it out of here alive, I'd need to not stand out. Fit into the crowd. My goals for the evening were to meet Ember, thank Writer personally, and generally identify any future assassins. <br />
<br />
I had a conversation with <a href="http://measuredliveswithcoffeespoons.blogspot.com/2011/11/heavens-on-fire.html">Fia</a> early in the evening. She didn't recognize me. If a Huntress, (one of the Host's own) didn't know me, perhaps this evening would be fine after all.<br />
<br />
I chatted with <a href="http://measuredliveswithcoffeespoons.blogspot.com/2011/11/shutter-click.html">Photographer</a>, for a moment. Though he recognized me, he was willing enough to keep my presence a secret. He was a quiet ally through the whole night. Whenever things started to go wrong, tensions were rising around me, he'd appear with drinks, and perhaps even a quiet concern.<br />
<br />
I<br />
<br />
My friend...I am in your debt. <br />
<br />
<br />
Time melts together. I remember talking to Nee-chan, I remember watching people far beyond my paygrade dominate whole portions of the room. Big names entering. Nightscream. Morningstar. Valtiel. Big guys. There were more so many more.<br />
<br />
<br />
I stepped to the sides of the room. Truth be told, the last thing I wanted was to run into one of them.<br />
<br />
And that was when David found me.<br />
<br />
---------------------<br />
<br />
He approached from across the room. I watched him with dread unable to escape. Ro- <a href="http://themadspeak.blogspot.com/">TMV </a> had described him to me once, when things were a little more murky and light and David was the scariest thing on my mind. I still had that lingering fear. Rachael acted the Coquette as he approached.<br />
<br />
"You seem familiar" he said to me, a faint smile on his lips. His eyes searching.<br />
<br />
I giggled and smiled winningly "A lady never gives up her secrets, David."<br />
<br />
"I guess I can understand. But it is terribly rude to make me guess."<br />
<br />
It was then that Photographer appeared, breaking some of the tension. Thankfully.<br />
<br />
When he left, I turned back to David. It wouldn't do to anger him.<br />
<br />
"Ah, I do not wish to offend...I am Rachael, David." I said quietly.<br />
<br />
"Rachael, of course. It's a pleasure."<br />
<br />
<br />
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">"You must understand my desire to keep my name to myself, no?" I chuckled nervously. Tried to disguise it as a foxy chuckle. Failed. "...I would be indebted to you if you could keep my presence to yourself."</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">He nodded. Silence. I looked over the crowd so I wouldn't look him in the eye. </div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">"How...How is he?"</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">He showed me the ring. We talked about him for a long while. I really am happy, TMV. I want you to be happy, and I can't do that right now. I can't even make myself happy yet. Once I'm free, maybe then, someday...focus. </div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">Focus. </div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">I met Ember much later that night. I don't want to compromise them. So I will not say what we talked about. Boasts were made, a bond was formed. I like Ember.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">I would hate to see Ember turn out like me.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">---------</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">At one point in our conversation we were looking over the gathering. Saying who we hated. Who we wanted dead.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">I will leave Ember's choice out of this. </div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">But I chose Valtiel. </div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">I do not really know how loops work. But he had heard me, somehow. </div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">Valtiel towered over me when I left ember.<br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">He grilled me. I knew that he knew that I was a Rouge. He knew that I knew. I retreated into myself, into my role. He let me walk away. I tried to find the host, Joseph, only to find Valtiel over there already, demanding to see the list, and demanding to know why I was here. Joesph, bless him, stood up for me, for himself. </div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">And then I had to ruin it.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">I thanked Joseph for hosting the party, and turned to Valtiel who was still there still looming like a bully. That's what he is. A Bully. </div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div>But I had to gloat. I approached him.<br />
<br />
"You are free to leave Rachael. Though I do expect to be seeing you again." The threat was in his voice plain as day. I should have left right then.<br />
<br />
"I would love to see you again, Valtiel." I smiled at him. Taunting. I offered him my hand, palm down.<br />
<br />
He stared at it like it was a fish. My smile widened. He grabbed my hand.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
Valitiel's touch burned my hand the worst physical pain I have ever felt. But I know pain I knew pain I held my face I am an actress. I smiled at him and said, slowly, haltingly "A gentleman...would kiss...a ladies...hand"<br />
<br />
Then things get hazy for a while. I remember David and Valtiel squaring off. I remember Valtiel grabbing Joseph and taking him away and Morningstar and his goons squaring off with David. I remember pulling out my gun and shooting at Morningstar and the...the ren faire one. Jack? I remember Ember climbing Morningstar. I remember Ridley saving the day and breaking the draw...fighting with us. Who knows why? Thank You, Ridley. You probably saved my life. <br />
<br />
I remember through my haze threatening to "shoot Jack's fucking dick off" <br />
<br />
And then I remember Joesph when he returned. the battle ending.<br />
<br />
I remember chanting Auld Lang Syne while Ridley babbled madly to an empty room. <br />
<br />
<br />
I woke up today in a motel East St. Louis. <br />
<br />
Happy New Year.Mauricehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10945418017382114771noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8429662288425979973.post-4056424432936208582012-01-01T22:17:00.001-08:002012-01-01T22:17:53.750-08:00ithurtsithurts<br />
<br />
i never thoght<br />
<br />
i never knew it coiljd hurt so muchghhhhhhhhhh<br />
<br />
<br />
ithurtsMauricehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10945418017382114771noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8429662288425979973.post-72153735992393725452011-12-30T16:30:00.000-08:002011-12-30T16:30:59.072-08:00Tomorrow is New Years Eve.<br />
<br />
I've been invited to a party.<br />
<br />
Normally I would not accecpt such an invitation, Especially when the sender could be one of my mortal enemies (Writer) but I have faith in his honesty. <br />
<br />
I think I shall go, and wear my finest dress.<br />
<br />
Besides, how else could I see ember and the others, the ones I want to see?<br />
<br />
<br />
And its supposedly in a "Loop" or something so it should be okay as long as those are real.Mauricehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10945418017382114771noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8429662288425979973.post-5909364992922969152011-12-26T08:31:00.000-08:002011-12-26T08:31:00.586-08:00Capo II I started in my seat as I felt a hand on each shoulder, pushing me gently but firmly back into my chair. The two men who searched me.<br />
<br />
Capo chuckled at my discomfort. I could have bluffed if I hadn't broke character damn it damn it...<br />
<br />
Frank was shattered, all around me, leaving Rachael exposed. I was alone. I was unarmed. <br />
<br />
"You are wondering how I knew, I assume?"<br />
<br />
I said nothing.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
======================<br />
<br />
<br />
<i>Maurice talking to Rachael in the parking lot outside High School. It had been a bad day at play practice. Rachael had to ask for the script too many times. Had forgotten her lines one too many times. Maurice crouched down next to her, smiles and said: "Sometimes when you forget your lines...just go with the flow. Improvise. It'll work itself out."</i><br />
<br />
==================<br />
<br />
"Frank has not been seen <i>anywhere </i>for the last twelve years. When I did a little research, it was easy to see he had never existed. Not even as a dead man. The police would not try something like this. They know better than to whip up someone out of nothing. So it was something else. Someone else."<br />
<br />
He smirked as he sipped at his wine. "You think I am a fool, you think I am some comic-book villian like the others? No, I am a Capo first, an Agent second and it is why in a city with men like Eternity I am allowed to live. I am an Earner. I feed this organization, I keep us armed. I keep the police off our backs and give us the cover that we need. I check everything. It took me a day to realize my old commrade was dead. Why would you kill him? Why would an inside kill him? Because they are a loose cannon acting alone."<br />
<br />
I shifted. Not nervous, not yet. I had obviously underestimated this man. But if he kept talking, my opening would come. He was a monologuer. I'd let him go until he stopped.<br />
<br />
"That left us with a few options, and left me to search for a modus operandi. Two dead people in my organization, slowly moving up the scale. Both killed by knives. The first operating near the Chelsea district. This lead me to investigate gangs, but of course the m13 and the Kings are busy with each other right now, the Italians are too underground to bother with us and those Eastern Europe fucks are too busy fighting the bloods over crack these days to give a fuck. No, this was someone who knew what we really were. Runners, then. But who would be enough of a monster to mutilate a man where it hurts? He had a family, by the way. A son. Just turned ten."<br />
<br />
I wouldn't let him worm his way into me. I wouldn't-<br />
<br />
"And so we narrowed our search. And found out about a rouge proxy who operated in that area, preferred our side of the bay, and had recently switched sides." Capo's shit eating grin stretched all across his face. "Really, Rachael. Tom Waits is rather overrated."<br />
<br />
He leaned back in his chair. "So now, I am left to wonder about you. Why did no organization recruit you? Is it because of your insanity, or because of how useless you are? Or perhaps it is becaus eof what really happened that night twelve years ago, mmm?"<br />
<br />
"Shut up you don't know about that."<br />
<br />
"Ahh, but I read the reports myself. I have a man in the department. Interesting stuff. But I am not a cruel man. What do you have to say for yourself?"<br />
<br />
The men slowly drew lethal looking pistols, their other hand still holding me into the chair. Keeping me there. Trapped.<br />
<br />
I looked at Capo. Not as myself. As a femme fatale. Walking trouble. TheMobMollThe nine inch heels the cigarette holder leaking smoke. The cherry lips. "what a quaint little resturaunt. Are these windows bulletproof?"<br />
<br />
Capo laughed. "What a bizzare question, my dear."<br />
<br />
"Well, you see, darling, I've been driving around town shooting at all the M13 boys cars with the vehicle parked right out front. Mmm, and ah miiiiiiiiiiight have shot up the Latin Kings' crack den before coming here. Just to even things out."<br />
<br />
The blood drained from Capo's face. Suddenly, he realized my plan. I hadn't planned on killing him myself. My plan was to drag his little empire into a war with the other gangs of Union City. What better way to fight the proxy organization than to crush it against people who were just as bad?<br />
<br />
"Kill her, kill her now. We can't have them know she was here."<br />
<br />
The gentlemen went for their guns as the first shots broke the glass.<br />
<br />
I reached into my pants and from right up against my crotch I pulled out my switchblade- who feels up a man there, and who suspects the buldge to be anything else?<br />
<br />
I sliced the arm of the first man in the panic, causing him to drop his gun. I dove for it as the bullets began to fill the room. I fired at the second and began to run for it. I got clipped twice, once in the side, grazing me, knocking me over. the other in the arm. Idropped Maurice's knife. It was left in the fight, but I made it out the back.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
I tossed off the suitcoat. Let my arm breathe. breathe, breathe. shot the next man to come through the door and started to run. I stole one of their cars and drove.<br />
<br />
========<br />
<br />
My home is on fire. it's not safe for me to be here now i have nothing left<br />
<br />
but hate and a desire to end this<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
I'm leaving the city I do not know where I am going<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
i still dont feel betterMauricehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10945418017382114771noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8429662288425979973.post-29370226331540623942011-12-22T16:32:00.000-08:002011-12-22T16:32:35.153-08:00I don't have time to write up Capo right now. Understanding will come in time.<br />
<br />
Yesterday and today are important. A man stood up with a select few and fell.<br />
<br />
I remember reading that post as Maurice and fuming.<br />
<br />
I was livid at the stupidity. I was so angry.<br />
<br />
I hated him. I hated how dumb, how people loved him, how he thought he would be Jesus.<br />
<br />
For weeks, for months, this idea burnt at me, gnawed at me.<br />
<br />
And then Zero came back.<br />
<br />
That was when I knew I needed to blog, to taunt him taunt all the dumb runners and neurotic fighters. <br />
<br />
Until I remembered who I was, and had the courage to become myself again.<br />
<br />
Zero may not have saved anyone. He may have damned himself and killed so many people for no reason.<br />
<br />
But Zero gave me redemption.<br />
<br />
<br />
I wonder if he'd laugh.<br />
<br />
<br />
I don't know. But I do know how important Solstice was.<br />
<br />
Remember Zero.Mauricehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10945418017382114771noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8429662288425979973.post-39291802385963761162011-12-20T20:45:00.000-08:002011-12-20T20:48:54.242-08:00CapoToday I finally went to meet with Capo.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
Not as Rachael of course. Rachael is not someone I wish to expose to him. To them.<br />
<br />
My identity is fragile enough I do not wish to become a target in this war.<br />
<br />
<br />
-----<br />
<br />
Frank Russo is not young anymore. He's in his 30's, now. Some would call him a punk but he's a calculating man. Frank knew that a man like him, someone who has been thrown out of school for cheating and violence had few options. To get ahead, his only option was to go underground. Frank was on a prolific spree of crimes of all sorts years ago but went dark as the heat got harder on him.<br />
<br />
Frank still has some contacts in the city, enough to get him into the hearing of a crime boss turned agent. Capo could use a man with as few scruples as Frank for jobs he does not wish to associate himself with. Frank's record is good, and the cities lawmen have long forgotten about him. Especially out in Union City, a city with more people per mile than Manhattan. History chokes on the new bodies every day.<br />
<br />
I figured I might as well use one of Maurice's from back in the day. I could not simply waltz into Capo's workplace the way I did to Tony. This plan would take finesse, planning. <br />
<br />
Frank had a meeting. He was no barbarian. An old ally of Capo (now dead, though no one knew yet) had set up the meeting for a cash offering from his lovely sister, worried about her brothers recent involvement with the Eastern Europeans. <br />
<br />
Frank strolled into the meeting. He was searched for weapons, and none were found. My breasts were bound, my hair in a slick ponytail, dyed black. I wore a black leather jacket with a black button down, and black slacks. formal, but not in a cowtowing way. Frank had respect for Capo, and for himself.<br />
<br />
Capo was waiting for me inside a small restaurant, far from the famous new high rises. The rehab of Union City had not reached this part of town yet. The lights were low, lit only by overhead fixtures even on a sunny afternoon like this. <br />
<br />
Capo struck me as the sort of man who could gain weight in his line of work. The kind of man who grew fat, not out of gluttony or greed, but out of the lack of fear. A man who could go gray, not from stress, but from aging into a violent lifetime. He was a man who had found himself a place in this world and believed himself capable of holding himself exactly there. He seemed the kind of man with no ambition, but no sloth. A man who would excel at keeping an organization like this together. But not the leader, never the leader. <br />
<br />
A challenging opponent, perhaps. But I was confident in my disguise and my secret weapon. I was immersed in my role. I had plans, machinations.<br />
<br />
He waved me lazily with one hand and a coy half grin. On either side of him, two gentlemen in suits, in addition to the two that had welcomed me.<br />
<br />
"Welcome, welcome. Please, have a seat. Wine?"<br />
<br />
I sat down in the proffered chair, but politely refused his offer for wine. Frank never drank when there was business. Capo crossed his hands and leaned forward.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
"Come now, Rachael, I've never known you to turn down a man before."Mauricehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10945418017382114771noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8429662288425979973.post-21632702308038867882011-12-17T14:32:00.000-08:002011-12-17T14:32:32.139-08:00Because I could not stop for death/he kindly stopped for meI've been going through his closet, and trying on his clothes. I put them back and close the door.<br />
<br />
---------------<br />
<br />
A knock on my door nights ago.<br />
<br />
The man called "Van Helsing", the Brian no more was at my doorstep.<br />
<br />
The overweight hulk with his face his eyes under the fucking fedora and the fucking leather jacket who does he think he is fucking neo or somethin? Bullshit. Fucking Bullshit. Fuck fhcuk fuck fuclk=ing bullshit! I<br />
<br />
"Rachael, open the door." he said, his voice the same if deeper and sadder.<br />
<br />
My eyes widened. Did he remember? How much did he remember? Did he...<br />
<br />
<br />
"Fuck you Hellsing! Go away." There's no way. He couldn't have. He's dead. He was a shell of a man. <br />
<br />
"Rachael..."<br />
<br />
"What?" I tore the door open "What is it? You remember my name now?"<br />
<br />
<br />
"Rachael..." There were tears in his fat fucking eyes, like he was struggling with something long ignored, long forgotten. "I, I know you."<br />
<br />
"Of course you do you fat fuck, you know me. YOU KNEW ME!" i <i>looked into his face an</i>d Brian <i>looked into the eyes of his lover his wife</i><br />
<br />
<i>and he ran into the night like a squirrel hunted by a hawk not seen but sensed in the sky far above.</i><br />
<br />
<i>Rachael sank to the floor of her doorway and she wept for hours until there were no more tears. She wept for Konaa, for Schrodinger, for Maurice and for Brian, and Rachael. </i><br />
<br />
<i>When the tears were gone she curled up in his closet with Maurice's swtichblade and flicked it in and out, staring at the blade. she disrobed and looked at herself in his mirror, staring at the cuts all along her arms, her legs, her sides.</i><br />
<i> <br />
</i><br />
<i>she went through Brian's closet and tried on all of his clothes. She wore them and smelt them</i><br />
<i><br />
</i><br />
<i>even after all these years he still smells the same<br />
</i><br />
<i> </i>Mauricehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10945418017382114771noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8429662288425979973.post-38880697169969135422011-12-13T19:14:00.000-08:002011-12-13T19:14:11.769-08:00In the end we all face a curtain. Whether it be the last glimpses of family members over the hospital bed, or the crash of an explosion or the flash of a gun muzzle. The Curtain is important. Unless it gets drawn the shows not over. It'll just keep going even if the audience starts clapping.<br />
<br />
So many closed plays, so many ended tales. Some the average actor will have never heard of. The same tales over and over again like vaudville playing every night same act different towns and no one even knows.<br />
<br />
I'm done with the Vaudeville. I won't be held down by petty allegiances and constraints. I've heard horrors from both sides of the line. And theres so many tragedies. So many neverending stories. I'm gonna close 'em.<br />
<br />
Police are looking for the presumed killer. They think its Triads. Apparently Wallace had some gang connections. Perhaps this will lead us to Capo?<br />
<br />
Setting the scene is important, I believe. I am working on it.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
i think im being followedMauricehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10945418017382114771noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8429662288425979973.post-29703239892063684292011-12-11T21:35:00.001-08:002011-12-11T21:35:22.290-08:00it wont stop rainingMauricehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10945418017382114771noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8429662288425979973.post-15406409625650753552011-12-06T19:32:00.000-08:002011-12-06T19:32:33.770-08:00Her name is Roxxy<br />
<br />
Roxxy wasn't the name she was born with. She was born Rhea Anne Stanson. Her parents tried to get her to go to college but she rebelled, dropped out and got mixed in with the wrong crowd. She found her way to the big city and began to live the "Glamorous" lifestyle.<br />
<br />
She dyed her hair. <br />
<br />
<br />
Changed Her name to "Roxxy" <br />
She developed a penchant for bad boys, started doing coke and drinking every night. Eventually, she found her way to one particular club.<br />
<br />
Perhaps our male friend will run into her. Maybe she'll get close to him.<br />
<br />
<br />
Roxxy is someone I've been Before. <br />
<br />
<br />
Maurice trained me to be able to shift personas. He taught me to live into my roles, no matter how small. Play the part, be the part. I was Roxxy, or a woman like her, for over a week at his urging.<br />
<br />
Slipping into her again is not so difficult.<br />
<br />
She is sort of like me in a way. We both are running from past failure. We both drowned ourselves in a fake, superficial life. Roxxy just hasn't found herself yet, hasn't found her purpose yet. She thinks she can find it in a man's arms and feels the slow creep of age upon her.<br />
<br />
Roxxy and I are not so different.<br />
<br />
I followed our unknown hunter to his club of choice tonight. A place called Libation. I stepped back and let Roxxy take over. Roxxy walked into the club, slipped up to the bar, giggled at a man who bought her the first drink and stepped out onto the floor, losing him. Roxxy didn't care. Men were things to work around to Roxxy. She knew them well, and found her target.<br />
<br />
The man with the buzzcut across the room, already chatting up two drunk college girls. He liked them young.<br />
<br />
Challenging, but not impossible.<br />
<br />
Roxxy strode to him, showing off her curves in the dress that covered my scars oh so well, makeup hiding the rest. Roxxy pulled him to his feet and purred into his face. He was uncertain, but excited. Classic hunter, unable to react quickly to a change in his plans.<br />
<br />
Roxxy ground against him slowly, whispering sensuously into his ear. <br />
<br />
Roxxy ran her hand down his chest. He quivered. "I'm Roxxy" she purred into his ear.<br />
<br />
"Tony. That's my name"<br />
<br />
He was high as balls. Perfect. Roxxy knew that cocaine users have a higher sex drive. He wouldn't even need to know any more about me. Just that he wanted me. Wanted Roxxy.<br />
<br />
She led him outside before long. He did a line of coke in his car while Roxxy rubbed his back. Thankfully he didn't offer me any. I had been drinking the whole time, and acting as though I was giggly, falling down drunk, but still so desirous of this monster.<br />
<br />
Finally it was time. He began to undress Roxxy, Roxxy began to undress him. Roxxy pushed him down, gently, poised herself above him, and smiled.<br />
<br />
----------<br />
<br />
<br />
Do you know what the Rape-aXe is?<br />
<br />
It is an anti-rape device designed by a South African woman. It works like a condom, only the woman puts it...inside herself.However it is more than a condom. A Rape-aXe condom has sharp, sharp barbs on the inside. sort of like teeth.<br />
<br />
They dig in, and cannot be removed except for by surgery.<br />
<br />
Safely.<br />
<br />
---------<br />
<br />
I tied his coked out hands behind him and thrusted. He screamed in agony, a wail unlike anything I've ever heard before.<br />
<br />
"Okay Tony, this is how its going to fucking work. You tell me what I need ta know and this stops faster, got it?"<br />
<br />
He screamed and cried. A man who fought and killed for a living, no man really, could withstand this pain. Brian had always taught me to attack here. "It's the one thing that controls all guys, you know." He said once, laughing.<br />
<br />
I had pulled him out of me, finally, leaving the sheath of blades on him. I couldnt really remove it, except for by force. So I began to pull it.<br />
<br />
"WHAT IS YOUR NAME?"<br />
<br />
"T-tony Monta-"<br />
<br />
"No, your name, Proxy. Name!"<br />
<br />
"I-I'm Wallace."<br />
<br />
"Alright Wally. Listen here. I want you to tell me everyone you've been hunting. Now."<br />
<br />
I pulled, he screamed and spilled a list of names. Many names. Tony here is a busy boy.<br />
<br />
"I need to know your superior's name. Now."<br />
<br />
He was sobbing, crying. "His name is Capo. He's based out of Union City I-"<br />
<br />
"WherewherewherewhereWHERE"<br />
<br />
and the rest went on from there. I killed him after. I'm no monster.<br />
<br />
My next step will be Capo. I'm...<br />
<br />
I haven't had a man touch me in that way in years.<br />
<br />
Having that power, the violence<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
it feels good.<br />
<br />
<br />
Better than the mutilation. Better than the doubt. There is something real in killing.<br />
<br />
And if I'm left to clean up the stage<br />
<br />
I will strike the set.Mauricehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10945418017382114771noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8429662288425979973.post-6441328155078080672011-12-04T12:57:00.000-08:002011-12-04T12:57:31.379-08:00And we're back.<i>One night Maurice took me aside and handed me a pile of clothing</i><br />
<br />
<i>"Listen here dollface. A disguise isn't about what you are wearing or how you sound or any of that shit. A disguise is about <b>acting</b>. Have a character in mind. Change your clothing, your hair.</i> <i>Match that role. Act Your Part!"</i><br />
<br />
----------------------------<br />
<br />
<br />
It's gotten cold so fast.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
I've taken to creeping around the city, as one person, than another. Even those who saw me, once upon a time, would recognize me no longer. <br />
<br />
I dyed my hair in a Texaco bathroom. I stared into the mirror in the flickering light for a long time.<br />
<br />
Blonde Hair. Blue Eyes. Even a-a wave to my hair now.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
I stared into my eyes, now someone elses. It was...unfamiliar. I've been struggling with self for so long. I've not known who I am not had a purpose.<br />
<br />
But now, under it all, I'm starting to see me.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
I've been tailing this guy. One of the Masked. An Actor. like me.<br />
<br />
<br />
A family man, goes out during the day, stalks and hunts. Hires hookers, drinks, goes home to his loving family. <br />
<br />
<br />
I have a plan in motion<br />
<br />
Let us see what I can do.Mauricehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10945418017382114771noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8429662288425979973.post-12220315596565779472011-12-02T10:10:00.000-08:002011-12-02T10:10:45.785-08:00Last night<br />
<br />
there was a man outside my apartment<br />
<br />
watching, waiting, I watched him. He was not familiar.<br />
<br />
<br />
The light at the end of my block, the streetlight, turned red<br />
<br />
a car was stopped. I could see a woman, in the back a little girl.<br />
<br />
The man walked up to the car, broke the window. The flash of dark metal, a gun.<br />
<br />
<br />
I grabbed Maurice's knives<br />
<br />
ran for the man.<br />
<br />
He saw me fired<br />
<br />
grazed my arm but I did not stop<br />
<br />
and stabbed<br />
<br />
<br />
The woman fled with her daughter<br />
<br />
frightened but I hope, also thankful.<br />
<br />
I left him where he lay, cleaned my knife.<br />
<br />
No one talks in this neighboorhood<br />
<br />
and what beat officer believes a frail woman capable?<br />
<br />
they never knew, never expected. Maurice for all his faults taught me one thing<br />
<br />
lies and vaudville.<br />
<br />
I should feel bad but the pain has leveled me, in a way self-infliction could not.<br />
<br />
I'm steady, I'm in control.<br />
<br />
For the first time in a long time.<br />
<br />
Rachael is done being a plaything, a toy.<br />
<br />
Perhaps it is time to stirke back.<br />
<br />
Perhaps it is time to make a difference.<br />
<br />
Perhaps it is time<br />
<br />
to take control.Mauricehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10945418017382114771noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8429662288425979973.post-57453297424294305412011-11-30T18:49:00.000-08:002011-11-30T18:49:16.907-08:00So now you know most of the story.<br />
<br />
In Maurice's attempt to confuse HIM with a masquerade of identities we all lost ourselves.<br />
<br />
We were all broken<br />
<br />
But yet I remain.<br />
<br />
What do I do now? Who am I to become, now that all of this has come to light?<br />
<br />
things I had forgotten did not want to remember<br />
<br />
living as a trouphy a plaything<br />
<br />
and then<br />
<br />
I don't know<br />
<br />
For a week I contemplated the handgun brian left behind<br />
<br />
For a week I stared at the liquor Maurice left behind, thinking wondering but rejecting. Drink ruined too many people, people I used to love<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
And now I am waiting for a sign<br />
<br />
from something<br />
<br />
anything<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
i miss themMauricehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10945418017382114771noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8429662288425979973.post-14251615162729583362011-11-29T17:51:00.000-08:002011-11-29T17:51:10.086-08:00And Time passed.<br />
<br />
Even in a world where nothign can be counted on, even in a world with THAT time will always pass, slip away<br />
<br />
Brian became obsessed with a plan of his own.<br />
<br />
<br />
"If He is real, shouldn't there be other creatures? All we'd have to do is make them fight, and we'd be forgotten."<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
Brian perched over his copy of <u>The King In Yellow</u> for hours. He claimed he bought it from a shop in Harlem but I was never quite sure. He had plans and withdrew from <strike>all of us </strike>from me. He slept alone, <strike>as did I</strike><br />
<br />
Rachael held back, and Maurice slowly filled the gaps like adhesive<br />
<br />
Rachael could not resist him. Who could? He was a conqueror.<br />
<br />
I fled, he followed and <i>claimed</i><br />
<br />
and one night<br />
<i> </i><br />
<i>one night things were different. Brian was out, doing god knows what when </i>Maurice <i>returned. </i>Maurice <i>screamed and raged and grabbed and hit and</i><br />
<br />
I described this <a href="http://spotlightonstageleft.blogspot.com/2011/07/feel-so-peaceful-tonight.html">once</a>. I won't again. <i> </i><br />
<i><br />
</i><br />
<i><br />
</i><br />
When I could, I got up, cleaned up, and waited for Brian.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<i> </i>I guess I just never stopped waiting<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
------------------------------------<br />
<br />
<br />
I'm done telling the story. I won't speak any more of the past.<br />
<br />
<br />
no<br />
<br />
there is one last thing that needs to be said<br />
<br />
one night, over a year ago, in the bar<br />
<br />
Brian was ther<br />
<br />
but he had forgotten me<br />
<br />
and everything, was warped<br />
<br />
it was better I decided, to let him live, and never know<br />
<br />
I've shown him to you, <a href="http://spotlightonstageleft.blogspot.com/2011/06/i-was-called-out-on-using-mr.html">once before</a>.Mauricehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10945418017382114771noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8429662288425979973.post-27355018726502867232011-11-10T10:00:00.001-08:002011-11-10T10:00:17.544-08:00<i><br />
''I will be as harsh as truth and as uncompromising as justice. On this subject, I do not wish to speak, or think, or write with moderation. I am in earnest. I will not equivocate, I will not excuse, I will not retreat a single inch, and I will be heard."</i>Mauricehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10945418017382114771noreply@blogger.com1