Re: THIS PROGRAM HAS BEEN CANCELED [S!1][ROUND TWO: ETA CARINA]
05-22-2012, 07:06 PM
Originally posted on MSPA by Ixcalibur.
In a dimly lit room with a fan turning slowly in the background, a group of people were gathered around a table. Standing at the head of the table was a man with short hair that had been painstakingly gelled into some trendy facsimile of scruffiness. He had stunning blue eyes and killer cheekbones. He was dressed in a suit, though the fact that his tie had been loosened indicated that this was as close to being casual as he was ever going to get. This was criminal mastermind David Neptune and this was going to be the most daring heist that had ever been pulled off throughout the entirety of the multiverse.
No pressure.
“Okay,” he says, “here’s the plan…”
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Cut to a shot of the lobby of the Lady Luck Casino. Through the door walks a pair of women, one with shining golden eyes, hidden behind a pair of sunglasses, and an ankle length dress to match, the other with far too much make up on and a dress so short it borders on immodesty.
“…First in are Venus and Fortuna.”
“Hold up there a minute bucko.” This is a different voice, one belonging to a man with dirty blonde hair and the beginnings of a beard. He looks genuinely scruffy unlike the artificial scruffiness that Neptune had attempted to cultivate. All eyes are on him for a minute before he feels the need to elaborate upon his issue. “Who the heck’re Venus and Fortune?”
Neptune sighed. “We’re using codenames,” he gestured towards the two ladies in question, “Venus, Fortuna.”
“I don’ remember bein’ consulted on this.” He replied, he took a pull of his cigarette and put forth a suggestion. “I’ll be Loki.”
“You’re Diana.” Neptune told him bluntly. “If you’d been paying the slightest bit of attention you’d know this already.”
“Diana?” Diana asked. “Man if the payout for this job wasn’t so good I’d be out of here already.”
“As I was saying…”
Cut to the gaming floor of the Lady Luck Casino. In the centre of the floor there is an elevator with three stops; the manager’s office on the floor above, the gaming floor and the vault deep below. As Fortuna passes it she slips a high tech sphere into one of the plantpots either side of the door.
“Fortuna uses one of Apollo’s home-made localised EMPs to take out the elevator and then takes a seat on a table with a good view of the elevator. Meanwhile, Venus…”
Cut to the security room. The focus of the room is a console with a bank of screens streaming footage live from the video cameras all over the casino. Sitting behind the terminal is a security officer and sitting upon his lap is Venus, her lips locked with his.
“…seduces the guard in the security room and plants an overwrite on the security panel giving Apollo access to the computers.”
“When you say seduce exactly what do you have in mind?” Venus enquired. “Am I going to need protection?”
Neptune hesitated for a second. “Just keep him busy enough that he doesn’t notice our tampering with the security feeds.”
“Can do.”
Cut to a dark room lit only by the dim light of a computer screen. Tapping away on the keyboard faster than any man could reasonably expect to be able to type is a man in a stained grey t-shirt, electric blue glasses and a pair of headphones that cover his entire ears.
“Hello this is Starways Elevator Repair.” He said in a voice that was remarkably professional and courteous. “A technician will be heading your way shortly.” A couple of taps on the keyboard and then continued in a voice that more matched his appearance, “Vulcan you’re up.”
“Apollo intercepts the phone call for a repairman for the elevator.” Neptune continued. “Then we send Vulcan in.”
Cut to the lobby again. This time the new arrival is a man in the plain grey outfit of a workman, he carries a toolbox, and has a pencil pushed behind his ear. Despite the disguise, the not very convincing fake moustache, it is pretty clear that this is David Neptune.
“I present myself as a workman here to fix the elevator and am given access to it-”
“I thought you said that Vulcan was doing that.” Diana interrupted.
“Yes.” Neptune replied. “I am Vulcan. It would be really dumb to use my own name as my codename wouldn’t it?”
“Somehow this doesn’t feel less dumb?” Diana retorted. “But whatever, lets hear it.”
Cut back to the gaming floor. Vulcan/Neptune is being led towards the elevator by a pair of burly security guards who are flanked by the manager of the casino himself (a beady eyed rat of a man with a bad toupee). Neptune levers open the doors and disappears into the elevator. After a second there is a sharp intake of breath, the kind that signals ‘this is going to cost someone a lot of money’.
“I see what’s happened here.” Neptune said in an unconvincing accent. “Your thermo couplings have come loose. This is probably going to take a while.”
“Fine.” The manager replied dismissively. He was about to walk away when the elevator doors began to close. “Hold up, what’s the meaning of this?”
“You want this job done properly?” Neptune asked.
The manager scowled. “Yes of course.” He shot a look to the security guards that quite plainly told them to keep an eye on him. He turned to leave and everything seemed to be going fine, when suddenly: “Mrs Neptune!” He exclaimed as he spotted Fortuna. He strode towards her a twisted grin playing across his face.
“I don’t know anyone by that name.” Fortuna desperately bluffed.
“I know that it is you Liz.” The manager snapped back. He turned to the nearest security guard and shouted him over. “Take this woman up to my office, I think that when I am done down here me and Mrs Neptune shall have a few things to talk about.”
“You monster.” Fortuna snapped as the security guard grabbed hold of her. The manager chuckled to himself as he walked away back towards the lobby.
“So… what?” Diana asked, “We get rumbled? Excellent plan, where do I sign on?”
“But secretly,” Neptune replied, “this was part of the plan all along.”
Cut to earlier in the heist, in the manager’s office of the Lady Luck casino. The manager is sitting behind his desk smoking a cigar and watching that new TV show about people fighting to the death.
“Actually that got taken off air.” Fortuna replied. “The zombie guy died and I guess there was a big fuss about it.”
“That’s not really the point.” Neptune replied dismissively. “Whatever it is that he’s doing, he’s quickly interrupted by a phone call from his secretary when Apollo streams that fake footage through the hacked security desk.”
Promptly the manager received a phone call and a stream apparently showing the heist team already in the vault (in reality some technical wizardry from Apollo) was put through to his desk. Immediately he shot up and darted to the doorway. As he pushed the door open he discovered a pair of men standing in the hall. The first is a heavily built man with a bunch of tattoos and a shaved head. The second, as if for contrast, is an incredibly thin and waifish man with a slight blue tint to his hair and a goatee.
“Mars and Pluto will be waiting outside his office.”
One punch from the larger man, Mars, and the manager is thrown against the wall so hard that it seemed to shake. The manager slid down the wall and came to an undignified stop in an untidy heap. At this point Pluto strode past Mars, his hands clasped behind him, his expression blank. He knelt down by the manager and with the very tip of his index finger he touched one of the unconscious man’s eyelids, pushing it open. This done he pulled back and within moments he had transformed into a perfect facsimile of the manager.
“Pluto takes the managers shape and then goes downstairs to greet Vulcan and expose Fortuna.”
Cut to the previous scene of the manager’s confrontation with Fortuna played again in full, but this time with the knowledge that it is Pluto shapeshifted and not the manager as was previously thought. This is followed by the security guard taking Fortuna upstairs to the manager’s office, throwing her inside and then standing guard on the door.
“Once inside Fortuna will look for the triple encrypted passkey that allows access to the lower levels.”
Fortuna rifles through the drawers of the manager’s desk, occasionally making a face that suggested disgust or confusion at what was inside, but quickly managing to find what she was looking for; an important looking CD with the words ‘triple encrypted passkey’ written upon it in red felt tip, and then underlined.
“With the passkey in our possession Vulcan will be able to send the elevator down to the vault.”
Cut to Neptune dramatically pressing the vault button on the elevator. It slowly began to make its way down to the underground vault. He removed his workman’s uniform to reveal he was wearing a suit underneath and opened the toolbox he carried with him. Suddenly standing next to him was a stern looking woman in a straw hat, a woman wearing an outfit that seemed to be made entirely from black lace, Diana and Mars.
“Now comes the toughest part; accessing the vault itself. At that point I’ll extract our ‘heavy hitters’ from the pocket dimension Minerva enchanted for us.”
“Okay, I think I’ve heard enough.” This was a voice that had not spoken before and was not amongst the people gathered around the table.
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“CUT!” The director, Blockbuster, was a cloud of shimmering golden energy that had forced itself into the approximate shape of a human and put on a suit and tie. It had no head to speak of, and so when it shot Montcorbier a withering look, there was no way to tell from simply looking at it that it was intended to be a scowl. Yet somehow it managed to make itself understood with little trouble.
As soon as the word cut had left Blockbuster’s lack of a mouth, the heist team, or rather the actors that played the heist team, all broke character and turned to face the cameras, and Blockbuster and Montcorbier who were seated behind them, with looks of weariness and irritation upon their faces.
“What is it this time Montcorbier?” The actor who played Neptune demanded.
“Don’t worry about it Chris.” The director cut in before Montcorbier could reply. “I’ll talk to him for you.” Montcorbier rolled his eyes and folded his arms irritably. “Excellent read through guys.” Blockbuster continued, as if completely unaware of Montcorbier. “Just some notes; Josh as much as I like your attitude I think you shouldn’t try to undermine the film by calling the codenames dumb because if you start making the audience think that then they’ll end up questioning the entire film.” He paused and glanced down at the sheaf of notes he had been making. “Also important is that we’re changing the Last Thing Standing tie-in. It should have been in the revised script but someone must have fucked up. I’ll get to the bottom of that later. Basically we’re now cross-promoting this new talent show thing. There’s a new scene where one of the chicks performs a song to distract a guard or something and we’re getting in the judges to cameo in the crowd. For the moment just take out the stuff to do with LTS.” Another pause and glance at the papers. “That’s it for the moment. Everyone take five while I get some ‘critical feedback’ from our consultant.”
With that complete the cast dispersed. Most of them went back to their caravans to rest, while one or two rushed to the make-up room to have fixed the slightest imperfections that they had convinced themselves they had. Cameramen loaded new reels of film into the cameras and Blockbuster turned its attention finally to Montcorbier. The semi-retired thief looked good for his age, but that was not saying much. His hair was a distinguished grey; his skin was incredibly pale and wrinkled in places. A faded scar crossed his right eye, which had been replaced with an emerald green glass eye. He was clean shaven and dressed in an elegantly understated suit jacket.
“What is it Monty?” Blockbuster asked.
Montcorbier for a moment struggled to find the words. “Everything. Everything is wrong.”
“Could you be a little more specific?” The cloud of energy enquired.
“Nothing makes any sense.” Montcorbier replied. “For a start how did Mars get into the toolbox pocket dimension when minutes ago he was outside the managers office. How did he and Pluto get up there in the first place and why didn’t they just go into the office there and then?”
“mmm” Blockbuster replied. “Good points. I’ll have the writers throw in some explainers. I don’t think it was really worth interrupting the scene though. In future just make a note and we can talk about it afterwards.”
“Look,” Montcorbier snapped, “I’m not here to work as continuity for your film. I’m here because you wanted a consultant on how to write an authentic heist; because you wanted somebody who has actually been in a heist. I’m telling you that this is by far the least plausible thing I have ever witnessed.”
“Well, what do you suggest?” Blockbuster asked. There was a long moment of silence between the two, which Montcorbier eventually broke.
“Scrap the whole thing.” Montcorbier replied slowly. “Give me the budget to hire a team of professionals and we do this properly.”
“You mean…?”
“Yes.” Montcorbier said firmly. “We pull off an actual heist and you film it. If you really want this to be authentic then you cannot get more authentic than this.”
“I don’t know…” Blockbuster replied cautiously.
“Come on Blocky, you should know better than I do that reality sells.” Montcorbier replied. A minute of silence and Montcorbier continued. “You can just carry on as you are doing if you want. You’ll make just another heist movie and it will be okay I guess. It won’t break any records or anything but you’ll make your money back.” He paused for a second. “But put me in charge and you’ll have a heist film that is completely unique, unlike any heist film ever made. It’ll be a sensation one way or another.”
“Fine.” Blockbuster replied eventually. “But I want a Big Name Star involved.” He glanced down towards his sheaf of notes. “If you take Jill Traynor you can do whatever you want with the rest of your team.” Montcorbier scowled again and went to speak but before he could get a word out Blockbuster cut in, “Look, I am taking a massive risk here and I’m not asking a lot. Just find something for Jill to do in the heist. She’s a good actress and she has certain assets that I’m sure you could find a use for.” There was another pause; Montcorbier raised his gloved hands as if to ask if he was okay to make comment now.
“Which one is Jill?” he asked.
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The fact that the Traveller’s Rest Hotel and Casino was smaller and significantly less vibrant than its neighbours didn’t really seem to put anyone off. Though it seemed unlikely that such considerations crossed most the mind of most people (using people in the loosest possible sense of the word) as those ready to retire for the night were usually drunk or coming down from the latest designer drug that was circulating around Eta Carina. It also seemed likely that the couple of people who checked in who were still fairly lucid might have chosen the Traveller’s Rest explicitly because it seemed slightly low-key in a city full of big flashy things.
Initially this unprecedented influx of guests was overwhelming, but things were made a little easier as a couple of guests managed to stumble all the way to their rooms and drift into unconsiousness. Down in the casino it had become necessary for Owen to try his hand at being a croupier for an eclectic group of creatures, which after a couple of hands he was convinced were cheating. As soon as he saw one of the newly recruited staff members, a bronze man whose uniform had been specially designed to allow him to vent the constant heat from his core, he called him over and had him take over the table, whispering a “watch out for the one with all the eyes, I am pretty sure he is cheating somehow” and then departing off in the direction of the bar.
Behind the bar Saint was mixing cocktails as though she was an expert alongside a creature that resembled a slender glass figurine with a bowl of dirty water for a head.
“Saint dear,” he said, “a moment of your time please.”
“You got this Laurencia?” Saint asked the glass person and received a string of bubbles in response. She seemingly didn’t have any trouble interpreting this as a yes, clapped Laurencia on the shoulder and left it to it. When she and Owen were out of earshot of their staff and customers Saint grinned and said, “This is pretty great huh, shouldn’t take long with all these people?”
“I would appreciate a little discretion.” Owen replied, no trace of humour in his voice. “And just so we’re clear upon this I don’t think it was a good idea to hire Wesley in the manner which you did.”
“Oh so you’d rather people just wander in and straight through to the vault?” Saint replied snarkily. “Speaking of which what is even in our vault?” There was a long pause as Owen considered this.
“I don’t know,” he said, “but I think it would be wise to keep it there.”
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The Traveller’s Rest Hotel and Casino was growing, slowly increasing both in size and also gaudiness. This process was happening in increments so small and infrequent that they did not draw the gaze of even the most alert and aware members of the Eta Carina crowds. This was already in motion as Kriok entered the inn. Maria was working on reception alongside what was best described as a sensory jumble of a woman. She had neon skin that was criss-crossed with winding vines and upon her cheek there was a budding flower the colour of a violin concerto. The lobby was currently empty save for a drunken demon struggling to make a phone call on one of the complimentary phones.
“Kriok!” Maria greeted her warmly. “Kriok this is my friend Yaelja. Yealja… well you already know of Kriok. Don’t worry she’s alright.”
Yaelja said something. It was a burst of pastel shades that seemed to mean ‘hi’.
“Hello.” Kriok mumbled a slightly confused greeting as her processors attempted to deal with the bewildering sensory input. She eyed Yaelja critically, absolutely certain that they had never met before. Kriok’s artificially enhanced memory meant she never forgot a face, but even without that she was certain she would have remembered a being as dissonant as Yaelja. “How do you know me?”
Yaelja spoke again. The taste of burnt toast evoked a memory of the introductions.
“But thank goodness that unseemly business has come to an end!” Maria said cheerily.
Kriok did not respond immediately, she was processing Yaelja’s presence during the introductions and realizing she knew very little about the inn. Granted she did not know all that much about the other contestants in this battle and she did not care to stick around long enough to learn, but that said she could at least identify them upon sight and she knew how many of them there were. All she knew of the inn was that it was an inn and that Maria was somehow affiliated with it. Now that she thought about it, she had been a little preoccupied when they had met with the Broadcasting Standards Authority but it had been different from when she had seen it in the introductions. Suddenly it seemed obvious that she’d inadvertently found her way into the inn. She glanced around her, as if expecting to see the secret of whatever made this building a suitable combatant, but all she saw was the same unremarkable hotel lobby.
The pause was long enough for Maria to ask, “Are you okay?” her voice filled with genuine concern.
“I am fine.” Kriok replied, bringing her focus back to what was going on here and now. “I am not so certain that this battle could really be classified as over.” She said. “I feel just as confined here as I did previously.”
Maria frowned and tried to work out the best way to reassure her friend. “I’m sure the Broadcast Standards Thingy will come through for us and we will be home in no time.” Though she meant well, her attempt at reassurance probably came over as naivety. “In the meantime if you want to stay your room is on the house, and I insist you let me buy you a drink!”
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Montcorbier was a retired criminal. He had given up his life of crime too many years ago to count and lived a very comfortable life on the vast fortune he had accumulated. Eventually it had dwindled away until he was struggling to keep up repayments on his pocket dimension. This was the primary reason he had accepted this job as ‘heist consultant’ for the imaginatively titled “The Heist”, but the fact was that he had missed this. It was a fact he himself had not realised before he had said out loud the idea he had had.
Even the forced inclusion of Jill Traynor (as it turned out she was the actress who had been slated to play Elizabeth Neptune, codename Fortuna) could not dampen his spirits. Blockbuster had a point; someone as attractive and as apparently well known as Jill Traynor would make an excellent distraction if nothing else. And when she was told about the revised plan she was surprisingly enthusiastic; a fact that more likely came from the fact that she was going to get top billing in this revised version of the movie, more than any excitement to pull a heist.
Montcorbier had spent the last half an hour trying to get into contact with his old contacts. He had been disappointed to discover that in the meantime most of them had died, which he really should have expected given how long he had been out of the game for. Essentially by the time Blockbuster reappeared carrying a pile of paper filled folders, the only person he’d been able to get in touch with was his old electronic security specialist. Blockbuster dumped the folders down on the table they had been using to film the planning of “The Heist” and took a seat.
“What’s this?” Montcorbier asked grabbing one of the files and opening it up.
“Well you see, as much as I love your idea Monty, the board is calling the shots here and they still want us to do some kind of a tie-in,” Blockbuster explained, “which is going to be significantly more difficult given the nature of what we are trying to do now.” Montcorbier made non-committal noises in response, as he skimmed the many typed pages that had been jammed into the folder. It was detailed information upon a creature known as a Nerrin and more specifically upon an individual known as Kriok. “So what I thought was maybe we could make some use of the contestants of Last Thing Standing; they’re here on the Eta Carina strip while some processing goes on or something, don’t quote me on that I’m not one hundred percent on the details.” There was another pause in which Blockbuster cast his eyes over the five other folders. There had been seven but one of them had had so little information on the subject (an inn?) that he had tossed it straight in the trash. The weightiest of the folders was the one about the teenage superhero. “Thoughts?”
Montcorbier looked up. “Yeah, I think there is potential here.”
LAST THING STANDING PRESENTS
A BLOCKBUSTER PRODUCTION
“THE HEIST”
A BLOCKBUSTER PRODUCTION
“THE HEIST”
In a dimly lit room with a fan turning slowly in the background, a group of people were gathered around a table. Standing at the head of the table was a man with short hair that had been painstakingly gelled into some trendy facsimile of scruffiness. He had stunning blue eyes and killer cheekbones. He was dressed in a suit, though the fact that his tie had been loosened indicated that this was as close to being casual as he was ever going to get. This was criminal mastermind David Neptune and this was going to be the most daring heist that had ever been pulled off throughout the entirety of the multiverse.
No pressure.
“Okay,” he says, “here’s the plan…”
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Cut to a shot of the lobby of the Lady Luck Casino. Through the door walks a pair of women, one with shining golden eyes, hidden behind a pair of sunglasses, and an ankle length dress to match, the other with far too much make up on and a dress so short it borders on immodesty.
“…First in are Venus and Fortuna.”
“Hold up there a minute bucko.” This is a different voice, one belonging to a man with dirty blonde hair and the beginnings of a beard. He looks genuinely scruffy unlike the artificial scruffiness that Neptune had attempted to cultivate. All eyes are on him for a minute before he feels the need to elaborate upon his issue. “Who the heck’re Venus and Fortune?”
Neptune sighed. “We’re using codenames,” he gestured towards the two ladies in question, “Venus, Fortuna.”
“I don’ remember bein’ consulted on this.” He replied, he took a pull of his cigarette and put forth a suggestion. “I’ll be Loki.”
“You’re Diana.” Neptune told him bluntly. “If you’d been paying the slightest bit of attention you’d know this already.”
“Diana?” Diana asked. “Man if the payout for this job wasn’t so good I’d be out of here already.”
“As I was saying…”
Cut to the gaming floor of the Lady Luck Casino. In the centre of the floor there is an elevator with three stops; the manager’s office on the floor above, the gaming floor and the vault deep below. As Fortuna passes it she slips a high tech sphere into one of the plantpots either side of the door.
“Fortuna uses one of Apollo’s home-made localised EMPs to take out the elevator and then takes a seat on a table with a good view of the elevator. Meanwhile, Venus…”
Cut to the security room. The focus of the room is a console with a bank of screens streaming footage live from the video cameras all over the casino. Sitting behind the terminal is a security officer and sitting upon his lap is Venus, her lips locked with his.
“…seduces the guard in the security room and plants an overwrite on the security panel giving Apollo access to the computers.”
“When you say seduce exactly what do you have in mind?” Venus enquired. “Am I going to need protection?”
Neptune hesitated for a second. “Just keep him busy enough that he doesn’t notice our tampering with the security feeds.”
“Can do.”
Cut to a dark room lit only by the dim light of a computer screen. Tapping away on the keyboard faster than any man could reasonably expect to be able to type is a man in a stained grey t-shirt, electric blue glasses and a pair of headphones that cover his entire ears.
“Hello this is Starways Elevator Repair.” He said in a voice that was remarkably professional and courteous. “A technician will be heading your way shortly.” A couple of taps on the keyboard and then continued in a voice that more matched his appearance, “Vulcan you’re up.”
“Apollo intercepts the phone call for a repairman for the elevator.” Neptune continued. “Then we send Vulcan in.”
Cut to the lobby again. This time the new arrival is a man in the plain grey outfit of a workman, he carries a toolbox, and has a pencil pushed behind his ear. Despite the disguise, the not very convincing fake moustache, it is pretty clear that this is David Neptune.
“I present myself as a workman here to fix the elevator and am given access to it-”
“I thought you said that Vulcan was doing that.” Diana interrupted.
“Yes.” Neptune replied. “I am Vulcan. It would be really dumb to use my own name as my codename wouldn’t it?”
“Somehow this doesn’t feel less dumb?” Diana retorted. “But whatever, lets hear it.”
Cut back to the gaming floor. Vulcan/Neptune is being led towards the elevator by a pair of burly security guards who are flanked by the manager of the casino himself (a beady eyed rat of a man with a bad toupee). Neptune levers open the doors and disappears into the elevator. After a second there is a sharp intake of breath, the kind that signals ‘this is going to cost someone a lot of money’.
“I see what’s happened here.” Neptune said in an unconvincing accent. “Your thermo couplings have come loose. This is probably going to take a while.”
“Fine.” The manager replied dismissively. He was about to walk away when the elevator doors began to close. “Hold up, what’s the meaning of this?”
“You want this job done properly?” Neptune asked.
The manager scowled. “Yes of course.” He shot a look to the security guards that quite plainly told them to keep an eye on him. He turned to leave and everything seemed to be going fine, when suddenly: “Mrs Neptune!” He exclaimed as he spotted Fortuna. He strode towards her a twisted grin playing across his face.
“I don’t know anyone by that name.” Fortuna desperately bluffed.
“I know that it is you Liz.” The manager snapped back. He turned to the nearest security guard and shouted him over. “Take this woman up to my office, I think that when I am done down here me and Mrs Neptune shall have a few things to talk about.”
“You monster.” Fortuna snapped as the security guard grabbed hold of her. The manager chuckled to himself as he walked away back towards the lobby.
“So… what?” Diana asked, “We get rumbled? Excellent plan, where do I sign on?”
“But secretly,” Neptune replied, “this was part of the plan all along.”
Cut to earlier in the heist, in the manager’s office of the Lady Luck casino. The manager is sitting behind his desk smoking a cigar and watching that new TV show about people fighting to the death.
“Actually that got taken off air.” Fortuna replied. “The zombie guy died and I guess there was a big fuss about it.”
“That’s not really the point.” Neptune replied dismissively. “Whatever it is that he’s doing, he’s quickly interrupted by a phone call from his secretary when Apollo streams that fake footage through the hacked security desk.”
Promptly the manager received a phone call and a stream apparently showing the heist team already in the vault (in reality some technical wizardry from Apollo) was put through to his desk. Immediately he shot up and darted to the doorway. As he pushed the door open he discovered a pair of men standing in the hall. The first is a heavily built man with a bunch of tattoos and a shaved head. The second, as if for contrast, is an incredibly thin and waifish man with a slight blue tint to his hair and a goatee.
“Mars and Pluto will be waiting outside his office.”
One punch from the larger man, Mars, and the manager is thrown against the wall so hard that it seemed to shake. The manager slid down the wall and came to an undignified stop in an untidy heap. At this point Pluto strode past Mars, his hands clasped behind him, his expression blank. He knelt down by the manager and with the very tip of his index finger he touched one of the unconscious man’s eyelids, pushing it open. This done he pulled back and within moments he had transformed into a perfect facsimile of the manager.
“Pluto takes the managers shape and then goes downstairs to greet Vulcan and expose Fortuna.”
Cut to the previous scene of the manager’s confrontation with Fortuna played again in full, but this time with the knowledge that it is Pluto shapeshifted and not the manager as was previously thought. This is followed by the security guard taking Fortuna upstairs to the manager’s office, throwing her inside and then standing guard on the door.
“Once inside Fortuna will look for the triple encrypted passkey that allows access to the lower levels.”
Fortuna rifles through the drawers of the manager’s desk, occasionally making a face that suggested disgust or confusion at what was inside, but quickly managing to find what she was looking for; an important looking CD with the words ‘triple encrypted passkey’ written upon it in red felt tip, and then underlined.
“With the passkey in our possession Vulcan will be able to send the elevator down to the vault.”
Cut to Neptune dramatically pressing the vault button on the elevator. It slowly began to make its way down to the underground vault. He removed his workman’s uniform to reveal he was wearing a suit underneath and opened the toolbox he carried with him. Suddenly standing next to him was a stern looking woman in a straw hat, a woman wearing an outfit that seemed to be made entirely from black lace, Diana and Mars.
“Now comes the toughest part; accessing the vault itself. At that point I’ll extract our ‘heavy hitters’ from the pocket dimension Minerva enchanted for us.”
“Okay, I think I’ve heard enough.” This was a voice that had not spoken before and was not amongst the people gathered around the table.
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“CUT!” The director, Blockbuster, was a cloud of shimmering golden energy that had forced itself into the approximate shape of a human and put on a suit and tie. It had no head to speak of, and so when it shot Montcorbier a withering look, there was no way to tell from simply looking at it that it was intended to be a scowl. Yet somehow it managed to make itself understood with little trouble.
As soon as the word cut had left Blockbuster’s lack of a mouth, the heist team, or rather the actors that played the heist team, all broke character and turned to face the cameras, and Blockbuster and Montcorbier who were seated behind them, with looks of weariness and irritation upon their faces.
“What is it this time Montcorbier?” The actor who played Neptune demanded.
“Don’t worry about it Chris.” The director cut in before Montcorbier could reply. “I’ll talk to him for you.” Montcorbier rolled his eyes and folded his arms irritably. “Excellent read through guys.” Blockbuster continued, as if completely unaware of Montcorbier. “Just some notes; Josh as much as I like your attitude I think you shouldn’t try to undermine the film by calling the codenames dumb because if you start making the audience think that then they’ll end up questioning the entire film.” He paused and glanced down at the sheaf of notes he had been making. “Also important is that we’re changing the Last Thing Standing tie-in. It should have been in the revised script but someone must have fucked up. I’ll get to the bottom of that later. Basically we’re now cross-promoting this new talent show thing. There’s a new scene where one of the chicks performs a song to distract a guard or something and we’re getting in the judges to cameo in the crowd. For the moment just take out the stuff to do with LTS.” Another pause and glance at the papers. “That’s it for the moment. Everyone take five while I get some ‘critical feedback’ from our consultant.”
With that complete the cast dispersed. Most of them went back to their caravans to rest, while one or two rushed to the make-up room to have fixed the slightest imperfections that they had convinced themselves they had. Cameramen loaded new reels of film into the cameras and Blockbuster turned its attention finally to Montcorbier. The semi-retired thief looked good for his age, but that was not saying much. His hair was a distinguished grey; his skin was incredibly pale and wrinkled in places. A faded scar crossed his right eye, which had been replaced with an emerald green glass eye. He was clean shaven and dressed in an elegantly understated suit jacket.
“What is it Monty?” Blockbuster asked.
Montcorbier for a moment struggled to find the words. “Everything. Everything is wrong.”
“Could you be a little more specific?” The cloud of energy enquired.
“Nothing makes any sense.” Montcorbier replied. “For a start how did Mars get into the toolbox pocket dimension when minutes ago he was outside the managers office. How did he and Pluto get up there in the first place and why didn’t they just go into the office there and then?”
“mmm” Blockbuster replied. “Good points. I’ll have the writers throw in some explainers. I don’t think it was really worth interrupting the scene though. In future just make a note and we can talk about it afterwards.”
“Look,” Montcorbier snapped, “I’m not here to work as continuity for your film. I’m here because you wanted a consultant on how to write an authentic heist; because you wanted somebody who has actually been in a heist. I’m telling you that this is by far the least plausible thing I have ever witnessed.”
“Well, what do you suggest?” Blockbuster asked. There was a long moment of silence between the two, which Montcorbier eventually broke.
“Scrap the whole thing.” Montcorbier replied slowly. “Give me the budget to hire a team of professionals and we do this properly.”
“You mean…?”
“Yes.” Montcorbier said firmly. “We pull off an actual heist and you film it. If you really want this to be authentic then you cannot get more authentic than this.”
“I don’t know…” Blockbuster replied cautiously.
“Come on Blocky, you should know better than I do that reality sells.” Montcorbier replied. A minute of silence and Montcorbier continued. “You can just carry on as you are doing if you want. You’ll make just another heist movie and it will be okay I guess. It won’t break any records or anything but you’ll make your money back.” He paused for a second. “But put me in charge and you’ll have a heist film that is completely unique, unlike any heist film ever made. It’ll be a sensation one way or another.”
“Fine.” Blockbuster replied eventually. “But I want a Big Name Star involved.” He glanced down towards his sheaf of notes. “If you take Jill Traynor you can do whatever you want with the rest of your team.” Montcorbier scowled again and went to speak but before he could get a word out Blockbuster cut in, “Look, I am taking a massive risk here and I’m not asking a lot. Just find something for Jill to do in the heist. She’s a good actress and she has certain assets that I’m sure you could find a use for.” There was another pause; Montcorbier raised his gloved hands as if to ask if he was okay to make comment now.
“Which one is Jill?” he asked.
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The fact that the Traveller’s Rest Hotel and Casino was smaller and significantly less vibrant than its neighbours didn’t really seem to put anyone off. Though it seemed unlikely that such considerations crossed most the mind of most people (using people in the loosest possible sense of the word) as those ready to retire for the night were usually drunk or coming down from the latest designer drug that was circulating around Eta Carina. It also seemed likely that the couple of people who checked in who were still fairly lucid might have chosen the Traveller’s Rest explicitly because it seemed slightly low-key in a city full of big flashy things.
Initially this unprecedented influx of guests was overwhelming, but things were made a little easier as a couple of guests managed to stumble all the way to their rooms and drift into unconsiousness. Down in the casino it had become necessary for Owen to try his hand at being a croupier for an eclectic group of creatures, which after a couple of hands he was convinced were cheating. As soon as he saw one of the newly recruited staff members, a bronze man whose uniform had been specially designed to allow him to vent the constant heat from his core, he called him over and had him take over the table, whispering a “watch out for the one with all the eyes, I am pretty sure he is cheating somehow” and then departing off in the direction of the bar.
Behind the bar Saint was mixing cocktails as though she was an expert alongside a creature that resembled a slender glass figurine with a bowl of dirty water for a head.
“Saint dear,” he said, “a moment of your time please.”
“You got this Laurencia?” Saint asked the glass person and received a string of bubbles in response. She seemingly didn’t have any trouble interpreting this as a yes, clapped Laurencia on the shoulder and left it to it. When she and Owen were out of earshot of their staff and customers Saint grinned and said, “This is pretty great huh, shouldn’t take long with all these people?”
“I would appreciate a little discretion.” Owen replied, no trace of humour in his voice. “And just so we’re clear upon this I don’t think it was a good idea to hire Wesley in the manner which you did.”
“Oh so you’d rather people just wander in and straight through to the vault?” Saint replied snarkily. “Speaking of which what is even in our vault?” There was a long pause as Owen considered this.
“I don’t know,” he said, “but I think it would be wise to keep it there.”
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The Traveller’s Rest Hotel and Casino was growing, slowly increasing both in size and also gaudiness. This process was happening in increments so small and infrequent that they did not draw the gaze of even the most alert and aware members of the Eta Carina crowds. This was already in motion as Kriok entered the inn. Maria was working on reception alongside what was best described as a sensory jumble of a woman. She had neon skin that was criss-crossed with winding vines and upon her cheek there was a budding flower the colour of a violin concerto. The lobby was currently empty save for a drunken demon struggling to make a phone call on one of the complimentary phones.
“Kriok!” Maria greeted her warmly. “Kriok this is my friend Yaelja. Yealja… well you already know of Kriok. Don’t worry she’s alright.”
Yaelja said something. It was a burst of pastel shades that seemed to mean ‘hi’.
“Hello.” Kriok mumbled a slightly confused greeting as her processors attempted to deal with the bewildering sensory input. She eyed Yaelja critically, absolutely certain that they had never met before. Kriok’s artificially enhanced memory meant she never forgot a face, but even without that she was certain she would have remembered a being as dissonant as Yaelja. “How do you know me?”
Yaelja spoke again. The taste of burnt toast evoked a memory of the introductions.
“But thank goodness that unseemly business has come to an end!” Maria said cheerily.
Kriok did not respond immediately, she was processing Yaelja’s presence during the introductions and realizing she knew very little about the inn. Granted she did not know all that much about the other contestants in this battle and she did not care to stick around long enough to learn, but that said she could at least identify them upon sight and she knew how many of them there were. All she knew of the inn was that it was an inn and that Maria was somehow affiliated with it. Now that she thought about it, she had been a little preoccupied when they had met with the Broadcasting Standards Authority but it had been different from when she had seen it in the introductions. Suddenly it seemed obvious that she’d inadvertently found her way into the inn. She glanced around her, as if expecting to see the secret of whatever made this building a suitable combatant, but all she saw was the same unremarkable hotel lobby.
The pause was long enough for Maria to ask, “Are you okay?” her voice filled with genuine concern.
“I am fine.” Kriok replied, bringing her focus back to what was going on here and now. “I am not so certain that this battle could really be classified as over.” She said. “I feel just as confined here as I did previously.”
Maria frowned and tried to work out the best way to reassure her friend. “I’m sure the Broadcast Standards Thingy will come through for us and we will be home in no time.” Though she meant well, her attempt at reassurance probably came over as naivety. “In the meantime if you want to stay your room is on the house, and I insist you let me buy you a drink!”
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Montcorbier was a retired criminal. He had given up his life of crime too many years ago to count and lived a very comfortable life on the vast fortune he had accumulated. Eventually it had dwindled away until he was struggling to keep up repayments on his pocket dimension. This was the primary reason he had accepted this job as ‘heist consultant’ for the imaginatively titled “The Heist”, but the fact was that he had missed this. It was a fact he himself had not realised before he had said out loud the idea he had had.
Even the forced inclusion of Jill Traynor (as it turned out she was the actress who had been slated to play Elizabeth Neptune, codename Fortuna) could not dampen his spirits. Blockbuster had a point; someone as attractive and as apparently well known as Jill Traynor would make an excellent distraction if nothing else. And when she was told about the revised plan she was surprisingly enthusiastic; a fact that more likely came from the fact that she was going to get top billing in this revised version of the movie, more than any excitement to pull a heist.
Montcorbier had spent the last half an hour trying to get into contact with his old contacts. He had been disappointed to discover that in the meantime most of them had died, which he really should have expected given how long he had been out of the game for. Essentially by the time Blockbuster reappeared carrying a pile of paper filled folders, the only person he’d been able to get in touch with was his old electronic security specialist. Blockbuster dumped the folders down on the table they had been using to film the planning of “The Heist” and took a seat.
“What’s this?” Montcorbier asked grabbing one of the files and opening it up.
“Well you see, as much as I love your idea Monty, the board is calling the shots here and they still want us to do some kind of a tie-in,” Blockbuster explained, “which is going to be significantly more difficult given the nature of what we are trying to do now.” Montcorbier made non-committal noises in response, as he skimmed the many typed pages that had been jammed into the folder. It was detailed information upon a creature known as a Nerrin and more specifically upon an individual known as Kriok. “So what I thought was maybe we could make some use of the contestants of Last Thing Standing; they’re here on the Eta Carina strip while some processing goes on or something, don’t quote me on that I’m not one hundred percent on the details.” There was another pause in which Blockbuster cast his eyes over the five other folders. There had been seven but one of them had had so little information on the subject (an inn?) that he had tossed it straight in the trash. The weightiest of the folders was the one about the teenage superhero. “Thoughts?”
Montcorbier looked up. “Yeah, I think there is potential here.”
Heaven Help Us | Make Room!!!! | I'm Not Okay (I Promise)
Hang 'Em High | The Only Hope For Me Is You | Zero Percent | Early Sunsets Over Monroeville | DESTROYA | Demolition Lovers | To The End
Surrender The Night | Disenchanted | The Ghost Of You | Party Poison | Vampires Will Never Hurt You | The Jetset Life Is Gonna Kill You
Hang 'Em High | The Only Hope For Me Is You | Zero Percent | Early Sunsets Over Monroeville | DESTROYA | Demolition Lovers | To The End
Surrender The Night | Disenchanted | The Ghost Of You | Party Poison | Vampires Will Never Hurt You | The Jetset Life Is Gonna Kill You