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Story Hour
Modern/Delta Green - The Beginning of the End (COMPLETED)
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<blockquote data-quote="talien" data-source="post: 4176858" data-attributes="member: 3285"><p><strong>Thin Jack: Part 3 – The Saloon</strong></p><p></p><p>Vanvon ran a tight ship. Crew scurried to and fro, hauling generators, positioning cameras, and working hard in the chill of the desert night.</p><p></p><p>“You know,” said Guppy, “I’m trying to work with this camera but it’s really not very high quality. Everyone’s filming in digital these days but it seems you’re using an antiquated form of—“</p><p></p><p>“I don’t pay you for commentary!” shouted Vanvon. “Why don’t you act like Homer over here,” he gestured with a flick of his hand at a non-descript man with glasses, “and NOT SPEAK EVER AGAIN.”</p><p></p><p>Homer adjusted his glasses and smiled back at Vanvon. Guppy shut up.</p><p></p><p>Spotlights illuminated the entrance to the saloon. Unlike the other facades, it was an actual stage inside. Fog roiled at the entrance, although none of the crew had set up any special effects to produce it.</p><p></p><p>“Quickly,” said Vanvon, “don’t lose this. This sense of dread.” He put one hand around Roberts’ shoulders. “Now listen closely. It's the day after Tim’s funeral. Dolores has been hanging up posters all over town offering one hundred dollars for the Death of a Murderer. You know the posters refers to you, but you don't think anything of it until a stranger comes into the saloon carrying one of the posters.”</p><p></p><p>Wilson set up the camera, while the producer hooked up a lamp to a generator and flooded the scene with light. </p><p></p><p>“Roberts, stand over there, out of sight and don’t look until I call you,” said Vanvon. “Homer, get a second camera focused on Roberts—I want his reaction to this.”</p><p></p><p>“To what?” asks Roberts. </p><p></p><p>Infected by his enthusiasm, the crew quickly set up the equipment. Then Guppy and Kalms stepped behind the lights, Vanvon and Wilson each took a camera. There was a long moment heavy with anticipation…</p><p></p><p>“Ready?” asked Vanvon. “All right, Homer. Roll camera.” He was breathless with anticipation. “This is perfect. Roberts, look at the doorway. Something crawls out of the darkness into the saloon.”</p><p></p><p>Mist billowed into the saloon. Something emerged from the shadows. Dressed in a red leather long coat and fedora, its features were masked. The glowing ember of a cigarette dangled from wherever its lips were. It moved stiffly, as if hampered in its walking.</p><p></p><p>“Buffer!” said Vanvon, referring to the role Roberts was playing. “Meet Drake Robey!”</p><p></p><p>Roberts saw the thing and froze in horror. He reached for his pistol, filled with blanks, and fired it. Then Roberts dropped it, cursing and staring at his hand in disbelief. It was all part of the act.</p><p></p><p>Unscathed, Jack said in a voice that echoed despite their indoor surroundings, "We'll be seeing each other later.” </p><p></p><p>"I hit him dead square in the chest!' shouted Roberts. Unnerved, he looked back at the camera with an expression of genuine terror. </p><p></p><p>“And…cut!” said Vanvon.</p><p></p><p>Roberts rushed back while the thing disappeared into the mist.</p><p></p><p>“What the f**k was that?” demanded Roberts.</p><p></p><p>“That was your finest moment, Roberts,” said Vanvon. </p><p></p><p>“That wasn’t acting!” shouted Roberts. “It was a trick, a cheap trick to…to…elicit a real response from me. It was unfair, it was unethical, and it was…it was…”</p><p></p><p>“…genius,” finished Kalms. “Well done, Roberts.”</p><p></p><p>“Congratulations, Roberts,” said Wilson.</p><p></p><p>Roberts looks at them in disbelief and then, off their awed reaction. “It was good, wasn’t it?”</p><p></p><p>“All right, Roberts,” said Vanvon. “If you're quite finished collecting your laurels. Let's pack up.”</p><p></p><p>Blade and the others collected the film.</p><p></p><p>"We'll leave the equipment, come back tomorrow, shoot the town and some of the scenes with Young alone," said Vanvon. "Jack Thorne will join us after dark and we'll shoot their scenes together."</p><p></p><p>Roberts glanced at the door to the saloon. "What's happened to Jack?"</p><p></p><p>"Yes, Derik, where is Thorne?" asked Kalms. He eyed Blade nervously. "And why won't he join us until night? Where does he sleep?"</p><p></p><p>"The earth in which he was interred, no doubt," said Roberts sarcastically.</p><p></p><p>"That's enough of that, Roberts," admonished Vanvon. "Now listen to me, all of you: for the remainder of the shoot, Jack WILL be Drake Robey. He will NOT break character, he will NOT answer questions as Jack Thorne."</p><p></p><p>"Will he answer questions as the vampire?" asked Kalms.</p><p></p><p>"Just leave him alone, Randy," said Vanvon. "The man will be absolutely authentic, without any phony effects. He'll be the vampire, we'll film it, and that'll be that."</p><p></p><p>Archive leaned in to whisper to Blade. “We’d better order garlic pizza for dinner tonight.”</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="talien, post: 4176858, member: 3285"] [b]Thin Jack: Part 3 – The Saloon[/b] Vanvon ran a tight ship. Crew scurried to and fro, hauling generators, positioning cameras, and working hard in the chill of the desert night. “You know,” said Guppy, “I’m trying to work with this camera but it’s really not very high quality. Everyone’s filming in digital these days but it seems you’re using an antiquated form of—“ “I don’t pay you for commentary!” shouted Vanvon. “Why don’t you act like Homer over here,” he gestured with a flick of his hand at a non-descript man with glasses, “and NOT SPEAK EVER AGAIN.” Homer adjusted his glasses and smiled back at Vanvon. Guppy shut up. Spotlights illuminated the entrance to the saloon. Unlike the other facades, it was an actual stage inside. Fog roiled at the entrance, although none of the crew had set up any special effects to produce it. “Quickly,” said Vanvon, “don’t lose this. This sense of dread.” He put one hand around Roberts’ shoulders. “Now listen closely. It's the day after Tim’s funeral. Dolores has been hanging up posters all over town offering one hundred dollars for the Death of a Murderer. You know the posters refers to you, but you don't think anything of it until a stranger comes into the saloon carrying one of the posters.” Wilson set up the camera, while the producer hooked up a lamp to a generator and flooded the scene with light. “Roberts, stand over there, out of sight and don’t look until I call you,” said Vanvon. “Homer, get a second camera focused on Roberts—I want his reaction to this.” “To what?” asks Roberts. Infected by his enthusiasm, the crew quickly set up the equipment. Then Guppy and Kalms stepped behind the lights, Vanvon and Wilson each took a camera. There was a long moment heavy with anticipation… “Ready?” asked Vanvon. “All right, Homer. Roll camera.” He was breathless with anticipation. “This is perfect. Roberts, look at the doorway. Something crawls out of the darkness into the saloon.” Mist billowed into the saloon. Something emerged from the shadows. Dressed in a red leather long coat and fedora, its features were masked. The glowing ember of a cigarette dangled from wherever its lips were. It moved stiffly, as if hampered in its walking. “Buffer!” said Vanvon, referring to the role Roberts was playing. “Meet Drake Robey!” Roberts saw the thing and froze in horror. He reached for his pistol, filled with blanks, and fired it. Then Roberts dropped it, cursing and staring at his hand in disbelief. It was all part of the act. Unscathed, Jack said in a voice that echoed despite their indoor surroundings, "We'll be seeing each other later.” "I hit him dead square in the chest!' shouted Roberts. Unnerved, he looked back at the camera with an expression of genuine terror. “And…cut!” said Vanvon. Roberts rushed back while the thing disappeared into the mist. “What the f**k was that?” demanded Roberts. “That was your finest moment, Roberts,” said Vanvon. “That wasn’t acting!” shouted Roberts. “It was a trick, a cheap trick to…to…elicit a real response from me. It was unfair, it was unethical, and it was…it was…” “…genius,” finished Kalms. “Well done, Roberts.” “Congratulations, Roberts,” said Wilson. Roberts looks at them in disbelief and then, off their awed reaction. “It was good, wasn’t it?” “All right, Roberts,” said Vanvon. “If you're quite finished collecting your laurels. Let's pack up.” Blade and the others collected the film. "We'll leave the equipment, come back tomorrow, shoot the town and some of the scenes with Young alone," said Vanvon. "Jack Thorne will join us after dark and we'll shoot their scenes together." Roberts glanced at the door to the saloon. "What's happened to Jack?" "Yes, Derik, where is Thorne?" asked Kalms. He eyed Blade nervously. "And why won't he join us until night? Where does he sleep?" "The earth in which he was interred, no doubt," said Roberts sarcastically. "That's enough of that, Roberts," admonished Vanvon. "Now listen to me, all of you: for the remainder of the shoot, Jack WILL be Drake Robey. He will NOT break character, he will NOT answer questions as Jack Thorne." "Will he answer questions as the vampire?" asked Kalms. "Just leave him alone, Randy," said Vanvon. "The man will be absolutely authentic, without any phony effects. He'll be the vampire, we'll film it, and that'll be that." Archive leaned in to whisper to Blade. “We’d better order garlic pizza for dinner tonight.” [/QUOTE]
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Modern/Delta Green - The Beginning of the End (COMPLETED)
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