Werewolf XVII: Pulp Wolf

[Tanuchan]

Welcome to Werewolf XVII!

 

You are in the set of a typical fantasy/science-fiction TV show from the 60s - the "kill-the-monster-of-the-week" kind of show. All of a sudden, accidents start to happen... for among the crew and actors, there are those who are at the service of a rival studio and will do anything to disrupt the production. Who will find the villains, and who will help our heroes? Who will save our heroine? Stay tuned...

 

Our players are:

• Sweetcherrie => Lizzie French, elder actress
• Deggy => Ezekiel "Zeke" Thompson, cameraman
• Kasmandre => "Creepy" Kas Johnson, gaffer
• Akallabeth => Doug Matthews, stage carpenter/handyman
• Gryphon => Terry Walkworth, special fx
• Ozy => John Thessalonian, sound effects
• Lady Celes => Tim Price, voice-over
• Quincunx => Marisa Hawkins, stage mother
• Venefyxatu => Emmett, make-up
• Knight => Bernie Frankowitz, The Agent extraordinaire
• dragonqueen => Debra Thompson, budding actress
• Vahktang => Isaac Heinlein, head writer
• Gnarlitch => Buzz Beckenstien, actor
• Dean => Don Cornelious, music director

NPCs

• Wyvern => the Ghost of Paul Gotliebb Nipkow, NPC
• Stephen Seelvergh, the director => NPC available to be used by any player in their posts
• Erwin Aylan => the Executive Producer

Important Notes

• the poll/sign-up thread will be used as OOC thread;
• PM alliances are not allowed;
• day phases last 48 hours; night phases, 24 hours. RP is free during night phases, however no accusation/speculation whatsoever;
• "dead" players: feel free to be a friendly ghost (literally... you can interact with Wyv, who's the senior ghost ) and keep the RP; however, don't influence the living players in any way
• no stating of the roles OOC or IC; everything is done through RP;
• Wolves: under the pay of a rival studio, they work to ruin the production of the show; there will be 2 wolves;
• Seer: has contacts in all unions and most of other companies, and can investigate anyone working in the production of the show;
• Baner: someone who has once worked as a stuntman, and so can trick the 'wolves';
• effects of baning:

Baned	Result
wolves' victim	no kill
wolf	if more than one wolf = normal kill; if one wolf = no kill
anyone but wolves' victim	normal kill

 

 

Concerning the lynchings/kills

• when accusing, please add an OOC line clarifying your vote;
• respect the deadlines... during day phase, if there's not enough votes after 48 hours, there *might* be a short extension; however, once that is over, whoever has the most votes will die. If there's a tie, the lynchee will be determined through dice;
• same holds true for night phase: if the targets of wolf/seer/baner aren't PMd me in the 24-hour-period, they are forfeited (that is, there will be no kill/no seeing/no baning);
• as the number of players decrease, day phases may be shorter provided all active players have posted;

If you have any doubt, don't hesitate in PMing your friendly mod (a.k.a. me )

 

Game starts next post. Sign-up is still open for the next 24 hours, then the roles will be assigned.

 

 

 

The Show

The HMS Incorporated, a small spaceship, crashes into an alien planet. The ship is broken beyond repair (or at least easy repair)... and every week a crazyscreenwriter creates an episode where they meet some dangerous, alien, impossible situation. And the technical crew and actors have to do their best to accomodate the whims of the screenwriter and the director...

Edited March 8, 2005 by Tanuchan

[Tanuchan]

Stephen Seelvergh leaves Mr. Erwin Aylen's office with a frown, and soon calls a meeting with everyone involved in his show. And he means everyone, from the stagehand and voice-over to the actors and actresses.

 

As he enters the room, he surveys those with whom he's been working these last months. He winces when he sees Marisa Hawkins sitting besides her young son.

 

A promising boy, but... does she have to be always with him?

 

Not many would agree with Stephen's opinion about Benjamin Hawkin's talent, but he was a cute boy. And they needed his innocent look in the show...

 

"Good morning." Stephen nods, favoring Debra Thompson with a wink and a broad grin. "I just wanted to pass on that Mr. Aylen is very happy with the show, and he is sure that you will all do your best for this next season."

 

I am not going to tell them how he yelled and banged on the table, wanting better audience ratings.

 

"However, he does wish all of you to make a special effort in the episodes this season. The rating is increasing slowly, and he wishes it to get higher without much delay."

 

He wants them to skyrocket, that's the truth.

 

"But the point is, if the results of the next few episodes prove him that we are already working at our top capacity, the show will be cancelled."

 

There are some loud protests and a general murmur that doesn't abate completely even when Stephen uses his director's glare.

 

"So, this is the news: we have done a good work. But we need to do our best. Our very very best, and we know you can do that."

 

He notices that most of them understand what hasn't been said: if the very best isn't enough, they will be replaced. And, nodding, the director dismisses the crew and actors with a wave of his hand, almost shooing them towards the set.

 

Dictatorial? Heh, you haven't seen anything yet, boys...

 

 

* * *

 

At the set, the crew and actors go about their tasks. The script for the week's episode is checked, the technical crew either complaining or sighing while the actors go over scenes or make-up details. Stephen Seelvergh seems to be all over the set, checking lights and props and being a general nuisance for the crew and a minor annoyance for the actors.

 

Episode Summary: The Pilot

A small ship crashes in the planet, and as the HMS Incorporated's crew goes to investigate, they discover an alien who claims to be able to get them back to Earth. In reality, he wants a female from another caste to mate with and has no idea if his own ship is still apt to fly. At the end of the episode, there's an earthquake that swallows both the ship and the alien, burying them under tons of debris.

 

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

OOC: Go ahead! This is free-RP phase, and will last around 48 hours or until most players post at least once, whichever happens first. Sign-up will be accepted for the next 24 hours, then roles will be sent.

 

Edit: grammar

Edited March 8, 2005 by Tanuchan

[Sweetcherrie]

Lizzie French had only been listening with half an ear to Stephen Seelvergh’s rambling about ratings, and how they would have to do their absolute best this season.

 

She loved this show, and loved playing in it, but she also knew that with her experience in acting and influence in Hollywood, she would easily get a new part in a different series. Besides that, she only continued with acting because she loved it, not for the money. Still it would be a shame if the show would have to stop.

 

When the director had finally stopped speaking, everybody spread out over the set, still impressed by the impact of the meaning behind the words.For most people this was their bread, and they would have serious problems if this show stopped.

 

Lizzie waited until almost everybody had left, and than stood up to have a talk with the director. With her 52 years, she had developed a natural grace. Her hips swayed gently when she walked over to the director.

 

“Are you ok?” she asked softly, and put her hand on his arm. She had known him for a long time now, and could feel that he too was worried about his job.

 

He looked up, and a thin smile appeared on his lips, “I will be, thank you.”

He sighed, “Guess we’d better get back to work.”

 

The director walked out the door, and Lizzie went to get her make-up done. When she reached the dressing rooms, she saw that the only available make-up artist was Emmett.

 

Oh well, that’s what you got when you hung around after meetings. And she still had to study her lines as well, that would just have to wait till after the make-up.

[Gryphon]

With the hidden ultimatum from Stephen echoing quietly around inside his head Terry heads off towards his work area (which he calls The Lab).

 

So... they want some boosts in ratings huh? Well I've got a few ideas for FX that'll knock 'em dead... so to speak.

 

Visions of rubber masks using hair extensions and other stuff the big boys in movie FX dance through Terry's head as he goes to do the best he can with what he's got

[Degenero Angelus]

Zeke set his cameras all up, all 3 of the angles perfectly aligned. “Lighting! Get the lighting set, or I won't be able to see a thing through these lenses.” He sighed to himself, wondering if there were any competent people at all working on this show.

 

This show is far beneath me... How did I get stuck working here? This third rate scifi junk. I should be working on movies, man! Movies like The Blob, man. That's where it's at. I'll get there, sometime.

 

He sighed and looked around, finishing setting up his cameras, and waiting for the filming to begin.

[Gryphon]

Reaching The Lab Terry starts working immediately. setting up a row of heads that he... borrowed... from the props department where they were never used anyway he starts moulding some of the flesh coloured putty to their faces trying to come up with a different look for the monster in this weeks show.

 

After several minutes of enthusiastic but none too productive moulding he decides that what's really needed is something different, something new. Terry decides to talk over his ideas with Stephen later to see if he can get some additional materials to make the foam rubber masks and to get approval for the season's monster designs.

 

Absently he picks up a pencil and a pad of paper from the bench and begins sketching down ideas and monster pictures that between a lack of polish on his drawing ability and too many comics he knows will probably never make it into the show.

[Lady Celes Crusader]

Tim Price wasn't surprise by the natore of Stephen's speech; he's experimented enough to know that producers always want more ratings. The voice-over man knows that he have a busy day ahead; three commercials to record, the voice-over for today's show and his late night horror movie presentation. He heads in the recording studio, with the texts of all three commercials in hand.

[DeanTheAdequate]

Don simply nods as everything is laid out... But he's a little apprehensive. He has yet to see the script. The outline is good, needs the standard "Alone in space" style musics... But what of inter-personal and the incidentals?

 

At this rate they might as well not even use the tubular bells.

 

Oh well, it was time to slave over the Casio again until he could fiund a way to work in "Margo". His trusted therman always tugged at the old sci-fi audience...

 

Now let's see... what key should this monster appear in?

[dragonqueen]

As she listens to Mr. Seelvergh's speech, an air of concern comes over Debra Thompson's pretty face. The young actress is relatively new to the business, and this sort of thing worries her. She makes a mental note to ask her agent about the matter, and meanwhile tries to be at her most appealing.

 

"Oh dear...what happens if we don't do our best?" Debra whispers to no one in particular. She knows what happens, but maybe if she pretends she doesn't, it'll go away. But they said ratings were good...it's a warning, just a warning. They couldn't possibly drop you. Following this train of thought, Debra restores her confidence.

 

Feeling optimistic, Debra thinks to reassure Mr. Seelvergh after the meeting. But to her disconcertment, Lizzie French is speaking to him. Swallowing her words, Debra turns and heads to makeup. While she feels no enmity for Lizzie, the younger actress imagines there is a little bit of compeitition between them for the spotlight.

 

As she sits down at the makeup table, Debra turns her thoughts to the upcoming show. "Make sure you bring out my eyes," she tells the makeup artist, already reviewing lines in her head. Even with optimistic views, every detail is crucial.

[Gnarlitch]

Buzz mentally groans as he reads this weeks script. WHO WROTE THESE FIRKING LINES?!?! A TODDLER? His career was going no where doing this show. But then, at least he still had a career because of it. Better yet, there was even a scene where his evil alien character got to grab Debra's character and kiss her, trying to make her love him. That had potential...

 

He wanders off to makeup/costumes wondering if this weeks alien would even BE ABLE to kiss a human female.

[Akallabeth]

Doug came out from inside the spacecraft. Whoever had designed and built this in the first place had absolutely no idea of how a set should be built, much less how a spacecraft ought to be built. Cardboard and light plywood. . . what were they thinking? Steel. Steel is the only way. Satisfied with the new door, Doug tried the electronic motor that was supposed to make the blast door move. Something inside the wall popped and fizzled, and an area of the cardboard turned dark. Quickly Doug turned off the switch. Of course they wouldn't have put in a good motor. . . after all, they'd only put in a little flimsy door weighing only 5 or 10 pounds. Nothing comparted to what a blast door should be. Even his new steel door wasn't up to par, as it only weighed in at about 250. Of course a real one would weigh more. Until then, he should start on fixing that motor. Maybe replace it. He'd noticed some parts he might be able to use to make a hydraulic cylinder or two in an alley out back. If nothing else, the actors could move it on their own.

 

As he headed off, plans spun through his head, and ideas began to form for new improvements that could be made. Get some more wood and cardboard off the set and some more nice, strong steel on. . .

[Venefyxatu]

As Emmett saw Lizzie French approach he grinned broadly - for some reason all the other makeup artists were always about halfway done before he could even start, and he did love his job so much. The fact that he rather liked Lizzie made his grin even broader than usual, and he invited her into the chair with a gesture that was almost courteous.

 

"Eeeeeyyyy Lizzie, what do I have to turn you in this week? A horrible monster? That'd be hard, but not impossible ... your beautiful self? I hope not, 'cause then I'm done already, and you know how much I love doing this, don't you? I mean - we've both been here long enough to know how we both love our jobs, don'tcha think?"

 

While Emmett is chatting Lizzie's ears off and painting her at the same time, Debra's make-up is being done by a rather more quiet person.

 

"Your eyes, miss? No problem ... let's see ..."

 

Bartholomew strokes his chin, looks over what he calls his "magical tools", picks a few and gets to work - a brush here, a highlight there, and before Debra knows it she's looking rather pleased at her reflection in the mirror.

[Tanuchan]

Seelvergh was at the other end of the building, as Isaac had arranged, and when  the Standards and Practices guy arrived, Isaac was waiting for him.

He already had his allies set up around him.

"Mr. Peabody, how can I help you?"

Mr. Peabody stops in the darkened stage, blinking from the bright Califonia sunlight he had just come from.

Creepy told Isaac to meet Mr. Peabody here as he would be off balance after coming in from outside.

"Umh, yes, I need to speak to Mr. Seelvergh. About, ah, casting choices."

"Oh, well, he's not available right now, but I was in on the casting session. I can help you."

Isaac takes him into the cool of the interior of the building, grabs an ice tea from crafts services for him, then hides him from view behind a prop control panel.

"The woman, the alien, from the other caste, that the pilot loves?"

"Yes?"

"The pilot is caucasion and she's coloured."

"Well, actually, both are aliens."

"The actress you hired is coloured."

"Well, she may have some negroid features, but with a wig, and the make up we'll put on her..."

"No. We can't have it. There are places we broadcast to that won't accept, won't air, this show if we have it."

"It's fine, Mr. Peabody. Nobody will notice. Even if it may be true. Here.  Emmett. Emmett can you come over here."

Emmett comes over, trying to look casual, just as he had been instructed.

"Mr. Peabody, our make up man, Emmett. When CC, the alien, comes on the screen, what color will she be."

"Bright orange. The pilot will be a duller orange."

"See, no problem, Mr. Peabody."

It takes nearly another half hour and the input of Zeke the cameraman to convince Mr. Peabody, but he finally does leave.

As the executive leaves and Isaac is waving him away, Isaac leans over to Emmett  and whispers.

"You sure she'll show up on black and white sets as black."

"That's what you wanted. That's what you paid extra for. I'm only following orders."

"Good," says Isaac.

"How do you know they won't figure it out."

"They all are exectutives, all have the latest sets, color. Won't be caught dead with black and white."

"This gets out, you'll never work in this town again."

"First interracial kiss on TV. It'll make history. This whole series will be historic. And I'm too talented to be forgotten."

'Too smart for his own good,' thinks Emmett.

 

~~~~~

(Vahk posted at the OOC thread... by mistake, I suppose)

[Quincunx]

At the end of the meeting, Marisa snapped open her alligator-skin handbag. She'd replenished its contents from the leather case this morning, just after hearing advance notice of the meeting from one of the financiers' daughters. They were committed, and Benjamin and the others would be paid for completed episodes, regardless of whether the network aired the shows or not. God bless those book-loving fools, she thought, bringing an antacid tablet to her perfect mouth on one gloved fingertip. They would let themselves be run bankrupt to see their precious pulp fictions on film. No sense at all!

 

*****

 

She sauntered through the set in a dangerously short, narrow skirt and medium heels, both polished cream vinyl; the bolero jacket and the piles of dark curls all on the back of her head were a bit out of mode, but everyone's attention was focused on her sheer tights. Benjamin walked obediently at her side, man of the household, already wearing the bottom half of his astronaut suit. Precisely 50 feet away from the cameras, Marisa swiveled and, while Benjamin kept going forward towards the set, walked a strict circuit around the camera assembly, cutting in between Seelvergh and the object of his rant with neither pause nor detour. As the director balked and grasped for the forgotten thread of his rant, she stepped behind a set wall, out of his sight, and traded her high heels for a set of leather slippers from her purse. The high heels were hidden inside a fake rock, and she ascended a ladder as quickly as she could (a goggle-eyed grip noticed, but he would never be able to identify her later) and stepped onto the catwalk. Up here she was invisible to most people on ground level, yet could voice her opinion on a moment's notice--and fifty feet away from the cameras even when she stood over the edge of the set, watching Benjamin.

[Knight]

With a slight chortle, Bernie wandered his way onto the set of the production, knowing a good thing when he saw it. It was time for his luck to change, and he knew just how to deal with it.... He had to sign the boy. The kid had a certain something, something that could take them both far...

 

And in order to sign the boy, he had to go through the kid's mother. Rumors abounded about the crazy broad, but Bernie surmised he'd have to find out, himself.

 

So with this in mind, he slipped up quietly behind Marisa, and tapped her on the shoulder.

 

"Uh, excuse me, uh, Miss Hawkins. Your boy there, he doesn't happen to have an agent, does he? If he doesn't... I was thinking, perhaps, well, maybe we could rectify that. My name is Bernie, Bernie Frankowitz- and uh, I am willing to help your boy move onto bigger... and better things."

 

He looked her over as she fixed him with her icy gaze; Bernie did his best not to shiver, and so he stood there, waiting for her response...

[Akallabeth]

Doug came back into the studio, carrying an odd looking mass of parts that had two hoses coming out from it and a heavy metal loop on each end. Returning to his door, he saw evidence of others having been frustrated by it, as could be seen by the switch's hanging from a hole in the wall, instead of fastened in place.

 

With a slight smile, he used his pocketknife to cut a hole in the back side of the set, and took a couple of chunks of angle iron out of his pocket. Grabbing his trusty hammer, he nailed them in place on one of the stronger supports between the inside and outside of the ship's setpiece. Cutting a larger hole in the back of the set, he stuck the contraption into position, sticking a bolt through each end to hold the cylinder in place.

 

Now to just get that little motor fixed, improved, and put in place. . . .

[Sweetcherrie]

With Emmett doing her make-up, Lizzie had time to think of the episode of the day. They would meet this alien that claimed to be able to get them back to earth, eventually it would turn out that all he wanted was a female to mate with.

 

Debra would be the woman who was almost kidnapped by the alien. Her role was simple, most of the time she would just have to look frightened and try to protect the little one, Benjamin, by standing half in front of him. Not too much, of course, Marisa would never accept this. The woman would probably commit murder to get her boy in the front lines.

 

Lizzie smiled, and thought back to the time when she had just started acting. They had been in America for only two years, when some casting agency took her in. They had insisted that she changed her name from Isabelle to Lizzie, and they had added the French to make her sound more interesting. From that day of she had been Lizzie French; Rising Star in Hollywood.

 

Daddy had been against it of course, he had rather seen that she finished her education to become one of the best secretaries the world had ever seen.

 

The thought made her grin slightly, back then women did not have much of a choice, and if the casting agency had not found her, she would now probably be rotting away in some duke or earl’s house. This was her daddy’s second dream for her, to marry within their own circles, so he could gain even more influence. He had not needed it in the end; ambassador of France was high enough.

 

She was thankful enough though, for her father’s influence, it had radiated down on her, and she had been able to use it a fair few times throughout her career. But she had worked hard to attain her own respectful position in TV-land, and she was proud of it.

 

Emmett’s jabbering brought her back to the present, normally it was hard to concentrate with the constant flow of words her ear, but today she had somehow managed to lose herself in the past.

 

However, she was still relieved when her make-up was finished. The boy was a darling, and handsome in his own way as well, if only he just stopped talking every now and then. She looked in the mirror, and thanked Emmett for doing a great job.

[Tanuchan]

"Now, this is important! Debra, dear, don't look so intensely at the camera. You're out for a stroll when you see ... yes, like that. Zeke, I want that boulder to appear in the scene, are you sure you got the right angle? Kas! Creepy Kas, where are you?"

 

Seelvergh looks up at the catwalks, looking for the gaffer and mumbling, then shouting again, "Did you set the lights as I asked, Creepy?"

 

Without waiting for an answer, the director turns his attention to the scene. After some reheasal of key scenes (in his opinion), he decides to start filiming the opening sequence.

 

"Alright guys... let's shoot. First scene, the sound of explosion makes you all come out in a run. Benjamin, you've been awoken by the noise, so you should look sleepy, and be probably the last..."

 

"He sleeps in the first bed and is a smart and active boy!" A voice booms from the ceiling, making Seelvergh jump. A couple of actors sigh and exchange a glance, recognizing at once Marisa's voice. "The noise will make him jump out, immediately awake, and so he would be the first to appear, calling his friends!'

 

Some discussion ensues, being short due to the impracticality of really talking to someone who's somewhere way above you and concealed by shadows and catwalks. Grumbling, Seelvergh repositions the actors.

 

"Alright..."

 

Ligths are turned on and cameras trail into position. At a gesture from the director, everybody silences, and there's an expectant look from all stagehands, waiting for the explosion and smoke... that come choked and fizzling, more like a sick old man's breathing than the crashing of a spaceship.

 

"Cut!" Sveelbergh storms out of his chair. "Walkworth! Walkworth, you incompetent! Where are you?!"

 

The SFX specialist runs towards the back of the stage, where his assistants are looking in a puzzled way at a mess of wires and fuses. Wincing at the sight of Seelvergh coming towards him, Terry Walkworth gives quick instructions. "Clean the mess. Set it up again. I'll talk to him far from you." Saying that, Terry goes towards the fuming director and, with an arm around his shoulders, steers him away from the scared technicians.

 

 

It takes some time for the scene to be all set again, but once more all actors, cameras, and lights are in position. Benjamin looks up at Debra, who smiles to him reassuringly and points out at the square of light. "It's alright, Ben. When the explosion comes, imagine your mom yelling at you like she does to Mr. Seelvergh and run. Your expression will come out about right."

 

Ben giggles, but thinks to himself that Mr. Seelvergh's face wasn't as much scared as deeply annoyed. Shrugging, he waits.

 

 

Five seconds after Seelvergh's signal to set off the smoke bomb, a big explosion rocks the stage, causing several props and fake rocks to tumble. A dense smoke billow out from the back of stage, bringing a happy grin to Seelvergh's face.

 

"Yes, yes! Great effect!" he whispers, as Benjamin appears with a startled and annoyed face and Zeke focuses on him.

 

However, yells and coughing intrude on the scene, as two of Walkworth's assistants rush mindlessly into the stage, crossing it just in front of Zeke's camera.

 

 

"WALKWORTH!!!"

 

Seelvergh roars, but he just sees the object of his wrath duck behind the painted panel representing far mountains. There are confusing shouts coming from him and assorted people nearby, and Seelvergh follows Walworth.

 

He stops short, gasping in horror as he sees a gaping hole in a far wall, and the destroyed equipment surrounding the small space reserved for the creation of the special effects of the opening scene. Near the hole, half-buried by debris, there's a mangled body. Seelvergh rushes out, suddenly sick, trying to drown the urge to throw up.

 

 

Later on that day, Mr. Aylan's cold eyes hold Seelvergh's.

 

"I don't care if you think the explosion was caused by faulty wiring, careless handling, or clumsiness. What I care about is the cost of it for the show. It's the third such 'accident' in the last 5 shootings. Either we don't know how to choose competent people, or there's sabotage going on, Seelvergh. You are the responsible person on stage. I'm the responsible one behind it. And we know what is involved in this show, Seelvergh. If it goes down, we go with it. I told you this morning: if the show keeps its low ratings, it will be cancelled. But if it keeps killing people, it will be cancelled and the studio closed. I have men investigating. I am doing what I can. Your job it to get the shows done. And to be sure that no one else is killed. Do you know the cost of keeping these accidents out of the papers and news channels?"

 

 

So, next morning, Seelvergh is again shouting and ranting at his crew and at the actors. He had found a way, together with Zeke, Walkworth, and Price, to use the material shot when the explosion had happened. All in all, he was pretty satisfied with the scared faces his actors showed, and Tessalonian and Cornelious' work with the music and soud had muffled enough of the cries and shouts.

 

"Now, to work. We'll be filiming scenes 3, 8, 4 and 7 today, in this sequence. That should take just until mid-afternoon, and as yesterday you had half-day free, we'll work until evening to finish the other scenes, as annotated in your script."

 

As in the previous day, everybody leaves to take care of their assigned tasks and to prepare for the filming. However, there's also tension and whispered words about the suspicious sequence of accidents and incidents involving the filming of this season's episodes.

 

More than once a word is repeated in cautious tones: 'sabotage'. And much more than once, the listener laughs and dismisses it as the tradition of having ghost stories circulating in every TV set in town.

 

"Heck, they even say this studio is haunted, but I have never seen the supposed ghost or heard of any pranks!" The stagehand laughs and hurries to attend to his duties, while his companion shakes his head and mutters, "But there *are* ghosts here!"

 

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~

OOC: First NPC kill was poor SFX assistant Peter Simpson. It's Day Phase. You can go about your tasks while filming the episode (same one described last post), while trying to find the saboteurs. You have 48 hours to accuse.

 

I forgot to say: I won't be accepting tying votes to another's... so, if you have trouble to come back, vote early or PM me any instructions (that will be made public before the end of the phase).

 

Good luck!!

[Vahktang]

"Shit," said Isaac, then looked quickly around for the kid or, worse yet, the Mother.

No sign.

He walked off the set to the writers room.

'Not the time,' he thought, 'not the time to pitch Aylan the idea of buying those stories.

'A lot of good ideas, and a lot of poor authors. A few hundred to a few grand could help some of the old masters. Or an up and comer.'

'The point now is to figure out who would want to sabatoge this show.'

He sat down after pouring a cup of coffee, considering 'fortifying' it, then rejected the idea. It wasn't even noon yet.

'It's so hard to get a show on anyway, why do they bother.

'Why? Why is easy, they've been paid off by another show or network because they see this show as a threat. It's obvious why. And how is real easy.

 

'Hmm. Have to work tonight and I'd been planning to go that party Crane was throwing. Ah well, Crane will have another party."

[Kasmandre]

Kaz happened to be standing on a catwalk directly above the explosion when it went off and had to grab one of the handrails to keep from going over the side. After righting himself, he set about making sure that none of the lights in this area of the catwalks had been shaken loose. After a few minutes of checking, he realigned the ones that had slipped and was scanning the catwalks again.

 

Where is she; where is she? he thought to himself, wondering for the hundreth time why he let her up on his catwalks. But then, those shiny new Altman axials had blinded him, so to speak. The director and producers didn't understand the importance of lighting in the new world of color. Temperature and intensity weren't enough anymore, you had to worry about color and amber drift. Kaz needed more intruments and more gels. And if he had to let some crazy mother up on his 'walks to get them, that's what he'd have to do.

 

It was annoying, though, trying to keep an eye on her. Kaz tried to know where she was at all times. It wouldn't do for her to be upsetting his lighting. It was time-consuming keeping an eye on her though. Kaz had been so busy with it that he'd hardly even heard the director yelling for him (but then the director should know better than to doubt his lighting).

 

Kaz scanned the catwalks one last time, not seeing the mother. Either she was behind one of the hanging flats stored up here or she'd gone back to stage level. As much as Kaz wanted to scour the level looking for her, he had to go back to ground to fix the floor level lighting, which had almost certainly been thrown out of whack by the explosion and would have to be fixed.

 

Sighing, Kaz decended to stage level.

[Gryphon]

Terry is unhappy. Very unhappy. First someone messing with his FX set up, making the explosions not go off as planned, then that insensitive bastard Seelvergh not caring that Pete had been killed... killed for gods sake! He was one of my better assistants too, and bloody Seelvergh just worries that he cant use the footage!

 

Terry had heard the talk about it being deliberate sabotage, but has to admit that he cant really credit that... it was more likely to be someone messing with things they shouldn't be on the set.

 

Walking through the set again to check that no-one has been messing with the rest of his setup Terry notices the metal and rubber contraption Doug had attached to the set the other day.

 

What was with that? The guy's supposed to be a carpenter. Maybe in his enthusiasm to play with things other than wood he'd taken the opportunity to mess with my explosives rig.

 

~~~

 

OOC: I accuse Doug / Akallabeth.

[Ozymandias]

Thessalonian strides through the set on his way to his 'studio' (a docking bay he'd somehow managed to almost entirely commandeer for himself, his won supplies and the studio's recording devices) having just received yet another odd jumble of junk to create with. A glowering cameraman whom he'd shanghaied for the duty trundled along behind him pushed a wheelbarrow full of slinkys, two washboards, empty coke bottles, and an iron cookpot.

 

The white-haired old man muttered around his cigratte the entire time, making simlutaneous nonsensically intricate movements with his hands in the air in front of him as he walked.

 

Breaking out of his reverie, but not stride as he spied Terry on the catwalk, he shouted in his deep rasp, "Oy! Terry! Tell Seelvergh we'll have that 'engine power down' by four, right?"

 

Before Terry can reply, and before John can even lift his deft, tobacco stained hands again, he stops dead in his tracks. The cameraman mutters a curse as he nearly bowls the other man over with the wheelbarrow, so suddenly is John's attention diverted.

 

"What?", he shouts at the two techs he had been passing, interrupting their conversation. "Did I hear that right? Pete? Dead?"

 

 

(OOC: I accuse Vahktang. Why? I don't know...)

[Lady Celes Crusader]

Tim Price was rewiewing the voice-over script for this particular episode. When Marisa wlks over him, he knows exactly what she wanted.

 

- You're lucky. It seems that your son's character is already given a lenghtier presentation.

 

His suave voice would have melt any lady's heart but Marisa's, who's obviously impervious to such charm. She quickly glances at the text.

 

- It is lenghtier, but not enough. If you can slip in a couple more words in it, I would be sastisfied.

 

- I'll think of something, to make up for this.

 

Marisa smirks briefly before turning her back to Tim.

 

- I know you will.

 

She then smoothly walks way, leaving the voice-over man slghtly upset. He then rereads the script and heads into the voice-recording studio, repeating his text.

[Gnarlitch]

Buzz while walking the set, stops and whispers in various ears: "I think that Doug may have had something to do with that explosion. He was lurking over there not too long before it happened, talking with Pete. We should keep a close eye on him."

 

OOC: vote for Doug/Akallabeth why? well, er, because! That's how the game is played.

[Quincunx]

In Benjamin's dressing room hours after the explosion, Marisa soaked her feet in a tub of warm water; she'd twisted an ankle racing down the ladder and over to Benjamin (violating the restriction, but would Seelvergh dare to complain, if it meant telling a judge about the explosion?) and her street shoes had been burnt beyond saving. "You're certain?" she said, and wrung out a makeup cloth before leaning over to her son.

 

"I didn't see anyone out of place, mother," he replied, holding still as Marisa removed his makeup. "I checked the fire exits like you told me to, and they're still welded shut. Nobody from outside got in."

 

"We do have a saboteur, then," she grumbled, upset enough to let the R roll. She stabbed the cloth at his face a few more times, then flung it away and embraced Benjamin fiercely. "Explosions! Killings! I thought this town could go no lower, and for what! For the viewers of a dead time-slot! Someone is risking the rest of their life in prison," the Rs rumbled, "and ruining their career for a single payment! It's amateurish!"

 

[EDIT: Changing a verb I did write to the verb I thought I had written.]

Edited March 12, 2005 by Quincunx