Wraith's Wrath

Wraith was lying on the ground looking up at the sky; she could hear the sounds of the city about her but she focused on the clear blue sky above. A shadow fell over her body and she still kept her eyes focused on the sky.

"Wraith?"

No answer.

"Wraith?"

Still no answer.

"Are you ever going to answer?"

She remained silent, looking up at the sky.

"Are you planning on doing something about it?"

She didn't bother to answer.

"Fine," the other said. "Be that way. I'll be back on Thursday to see if it's done."

There was the slamming of a door.

She sat up on the blanket and glanced around; she had been sunning herself on a beach towel. She reached for some more sun tan lotion to add another layer to her skin. She adjusted the Foster Grants and prepared to lay back down on the towel.

Damn, she thought. 

She really didn't feel like talking to anyone at the moment, she thought she'd figure it out with a good ol' suntanning session. Her cellphone rang and she didn't answer it.

She wasn't in the mood to say anything for fear that if she did she'd go off like a depth charge, all out and ready to sink anyone in her path.

She knew she had anger issues and was trying to deal with it in her own way.

She walked into the kitchen and grabbed a soda from the fridge. She pulled the tab and guzzled about 1/4 of the beverage before putting it down. She walked over to the laptop and punched her password into it and plopped down in front of it. 

"Wraith's Wrath"
by Wednesday Wraith

....

Was what it showed.

Her editor was hounding her for the next instalment of the Diner of Hope series but she was having no such luck with formulating a story. She let out a huge sigh...

It's Washington Day

It seemed so cliche, like right out of the freakin' movies.

Dexter was hunkered down by his car, his service revolver in his hands as he waited for the hail of bullets to stop chewing up the car. Little shards of glass fell down upon him like rain on a summer's day as the window gave way.

"This freakin' sucks," he muttered. "Frakkin' pussbucket."

"You don't have to tell me," his partner Stone said. "You think you would know better than to hit the streets after even hinting about taking a retirement. That's just tempting fate."

Dexter brushed broken shards off his shoulder. For a moment there he felt alive knowing that death was just around the corner. It made him think of a situation he was in 15 years ago; he cracked a bittersweet smile upon remembrance.

"Glad to see that you're having some fun," Stone cracked at him. He had noticed Dex's expression; it was the first time in a long time that he had seen a genuine smile on that mug of his.

"Actually," Dexter replied, reloading bullets into his gun, "just realized that my old partner had said something similar many moons ago."

Stone was a good man; he had trained him well over the years. Dex had taken him on as a partner when his original one, Ness, was shot during a botched robbery 15 years ago. Dexter was meeting up with him at this shitty chinese diner that Ness liked to eat at. He didn't care about the food but the place made him feel good, is what Ness always said. And Dexter thought it was kind of weird since he always felt good eating there too.

It seemed that some thugs where shaking down the neighbourhood for protection money and decided to visit on the day that Dexter and Ness were taking a break. Dexter had been waiting for Ness to show up when the thugs came in and started threatening the little owner of the establishment. Dexter flashed his badge and the next thing he knew was that bullets were in the freakin' forecast of the day. Ness showed up a few minutes later and caught one.

In the end the street gang was taken down, but not before they had popped a young kid as well. Some poor homeless kid with a skateboard had taken two shots to the chest. If only Dexter reacted sooner maybe this kid would still be alive. 

Remembering that poor street kid now melted away that bittersweet smile.

The week after the restaurant shooting Dexter had transferred out of homicide, after witnessing so much death on that day, and into the Missing Persons Unit. There he was partnered with rookie cop, Stone. They had been working cases over the years and just this morning he had been joking about maybe taking an "early retirement".  Then a tip came in on a young lady that had disappeared over a decade ago; she had been spotted at a shelter downtown.

They went down to have a look-see, passing around her picture when someone told them that they had seen her enter an abandoned brownstone just two blocks away. They were making a routine check when bullets began to rain down upon them, making them scamper back to the safety of their car...

Gone Baby Gone

He felt like it was a dismal hangover, his eyes fighting to stay closed from the light for fear of it burning out the pupils.

"Yo, buddy," a voice said. "You still alive?"

"I think so," Goner replied. He sat up and felt a wave of dizziness hit him again. "I don't know for how long, though."

"You look like shit, dude," the voice stated.

"Tell me something I don't know," Goner replied. The world around him was a bright white blur, as if the sun went supernova and rays were bleaching everything in sight. It also reminded him of a comic book maxi-series that DC comics put out in the 1980's. Crisis on Infinite Earths.

He was in a field, his bike lying about 33 feet away from him.

"Man, that was some crazy ass jump," the voice said. Goner located where the voice originated from to see a young kid on a bike beside him. The name dawned on him: it was Stevie.

"Ya, think?" Goner said. He finally got his bearings and realized that he was getting to old for this kind of stuff. He checked to see if anything was broken or any bones were sticking out of the skin and he was glad that everything seemed to be in check.

He went over to the bike, saw that it was sort of scuffed up but okay, and picked it up again. He had to take it to the shop for another tune-up, but realized the shop was a few miles away. It was going to be a long walk home.

"That was a crazy ass jump," Stevie said again. He approached Goner with his right hand in the air to summon a high five.

"Yeah," Goner said. "It was."

The Angst of Being Angst

"... and that's it for the day," the photographer said as he handed the camera to his assistant. His assistant automatically snapped the lens cap onto it like an obedient soldier.

Angst sat up on the bearskin rug as a woman approached her with a robe; she slipped into it like a second skin. She was used to the men hanging around the studio and ogling her. After all, this was her fourth and probably final shoot for the magazine. She was to the age now where she wasn't deemed youthful enough.

"Another great shoot, Angst," the photographer said. He stepped around the set and gave her a hug. "Love working with you."

She smiled a fake smile and kissed him on the cheek. "The pleasure is all mine," she told him. "You make me look good."

Angst and the woman left the stage, heading to a dressing room where she could slip into some yoga pants and a crop top. She really didn't like doing this stuff but it paid big time. Her mother and father didn't approve of what she was doing, nor did they complain since they had a new home and a car and a 60" plasma tv set in their living room.

Like she said, it paid the bills.

Her cellphone chimed in, 'Madonna's Express Yourself' was the tone. It meant her agent was on the other line.

"Angsty, baby," he said. "I've got a deal for you, they want you back for Shark Vs Werewolf II! Swing by the office and will chat more."

She wasn't even the star of the b-flick, it was Tiger Manson, who was once a big time television star, on a four-time emmy winning series and now delegated to doing b-movies. Angst realized it was her path as well, but she was never as big as Tiger and she wondered if she had missed a chance at something big in her life.

Shark vs Werewolf was her third major flick; her first flick, over a decade ago, was a bit part in the Oscar nominated The Legacy Effect starring Brad Pitt, Matt Damon, Helen Mirren and Donald Sutherland. She had played Donald Sutherland's youngest granddaughter. Overall, her screen time was 13 minutes and 43 seconds.

There had been a casting call in town where the movie was being shot and she had won the role because the part was for a cheerleader; after all it was her specialty. She had competed with 2000 others. It had gotten her noticed and from there she had played frienemy "Betsy Carter" on Disney's Dragons Are People Too for four years.

She did her first Playboy photo shoot right after Dragons Are People Too ended; her agent at the time told her it was a good move and would get her more exposure in Hollywood. Though the offers from the major studios never came. There were tons of scripts for b-movies and tv movies-of-the-week but they were just t&a appearances and nothing meaty.

Angst walked across the lot to her car; she signed heavily. She wondered if maybe she should have married the quarterback and settled down to have some kids...

Frank's Folly

Frank stepped out of the cab, paid the driver, and then walked towards the main door. He made a slight detour as he saw the coffee wagon open for business. He could use a drink; he wasn't normally a coffee consumer, he preferred the tingling sensation that tea offered. But today, for some strange reason, he craved coffee.

He ordered a coffee with a cream and one sugar and paid the buck fifty. He glanced at his watch and noticed he was still 15 minutes ahead of schedule and he grabbed the morning paper as well. He had a little time to kill. He walked into the lobby of the building, passed the security desk, flashing his ID badge at the two guards on duty.

Grady and Bill-Lee. He chuckled each time he saw Bill-Lee's name tag. He figured his folks must have been rednecks to give him such a stupid name to begin with. He pressed the up key at the elevators and waited for the doors to eventually open.

"Hey Frank," Scorpio said as he rushed to the elevator. "Today is the big day, eh?"

"Yes," Frank simply stated.

"Anything big going on then?" Scorpio inquired. "After all, it's you last day here."

"Nothing really," Frank yawned. "Just want to put in my time for the day like usual."

The elevator ride up to the floor was awkwardly silent since Scorpio didn't have anything else to say. To Frank the music that filtered through the elevator sounded like a New Order song done to muzak. He was trying to figure out which song it was.

It seemed like forever and a day when they arrived at their floor. The doors opened to a group of people yelling "SURPRISE!" The gang at the office had thrown together a little celebration to mark his last day at the office.

Frank had grown bored after data-crunching; he had thought that life would be a little more exciting than sitting at a computer terminal for 25+ years. It paid well, but it offered nothing stimulating...

Suki's Day

She always felt at home on a subway train for some odd reason. It was a feeling of comfort, of knowing she was safe, even though she was surrounded by complete strangers. She was playing with the folds of her summer dress, not paying attention to her surroundings.

She was on her way to her daughter's school, The Holy Cross Elementary School, where Principal Donnelly had called her in about Hira, who had been acting out in the school yard. Apparently she had broken a boy's nose and this meant serious business. Probably a suspension and a fine to pay.

The subway car was slowing down as it approached her stop, so she got up and made her way through the throng of people to the door. She stepped on the platform and made her way to the exit. She stopped at a vending machine and decided to get a drink. She figured she needed something to quench her thirst and maybe calm her nerves down some.

She didn't like speaking with Donnelly since he reminded her of the principal she had when she was her daughter's age many, many moons ago. She grabbed a diet cola and made her way up the steps to face the music. Apparently, her daughter didn't fall too far from the tree.

And that made her smile.

+ PLEX TOURS .3 The Diner

• The Bunker
• The Lab Level Two
• The Cast
• The Bookstore
• The Brownstone
• The Subway
• Metafesto
• Chronoplex
• The Lab

Alice adjusted the name tag on her server's uniform. She was excited to start her new job – waiting tables between auditions wasn't a burden to her, it was part of the fun, part of the life she had chosen, the dream she was trying to make real. 

“And here's where we sign the task list at the end of each shift,” Miranda said. “That's the last box to check for today's training. Now... I suppose you want to hear about the good stuff.”

It was quiet out front, the lull between lunch and dinner. Marko was prepping for the evening meal in the kitchen. Alice looked confused.

“All the rumour's about this place?” Miranda continued. “You mean you haven't heard the stories about Kelly's Diner?”

“Didn't it used to be a Chinese restaurant once?” Alice asked.

“They say it was a hot-spot for Tong violence. The place was shot up seventeen times. They say.”

Alice shrugged. She didn't like to make assumptions based on hearsay.

“But that's not the weirdest part,” Miranda said. “A lot of people in the neighbourhood say that this place is haunted... And that's why it attracts so much violence.”

Alice looked skeptical. Miranda had been super-nice so far, but maybe this was part of some lame initiation for new staff...

“And, get this, no one knows exactly when it switched from the restaurant to the diner, or what happened to the original owners... But it's been burnt down and rebuilt at least three times since then.” Miranda could see that Alice wasn't overly impressed with the history lesson. “I'm not trying to scare you. I'm not even saying I buy any of this stuff, either. It's actually refreshing to meet someone who isn't all wide-eyed and gullible.”

“I guess urban legends are kind of interesting,” Alice said. She had a strange, fleeting sensation, like a dream barely remembered.

“The only thing that makes me wonder...” Miranda said, “is the Irregulars. A lot of the rumours involve this group of... I don't know what, exactly. But they, apparently, help protect the place. Or try to, I guess.”

Alice was starting to get intrigued. “And who are they?”

“Some people say they're cops, some say they're vigilantes. I've heard that they're members of a local martial arts club. Or that they belong to some support group. A mental health thing.”

Alice had been in therapy when she was younger, because of her dreams. She got nervous when people started talking about mental health, was worried they would judge.

“There's Dexter, he always carries a baseball bat, a tough guy but sweet. Callan, who's quiet but has a temper – I've heard he's some kind of magician. Wraith, very classy, bit cold. Apparently she travels a lot, so business maybe? Spy maybe? Darius, who's the youngest, with a skateboard in one hand and a bible in the other. And then Max... Lots of stories about Max. Schizophrenic, alien, android.” She smirked. “He's nice, though.”

“You talk about them as if-”

“Well that's just it, Alice. I've met them. I've served them coffee. Only a few times over the years - 'the Irregulars', right? - but they're real.”

Alice was listening intently now. “Have they ever...? What do they talk about? Do you think what people say about them is true?”

Miranda looked thoughtful. “They are always polite, they always tip well. They usually look pretty tired. I try not to bother them, even though I'm curious. I figure that whatever they get up to, whatever keeps them busy out there, when they're here they need to relax. To be somewhere comfortable, familiar. To be looked after for a little while. Is that corny?”

Alice smiled. “Not at all.” And felt, in that moment, that if she never got cast, never even got called for another audition, that she would be happy working here for the rest of her days.

The door chimed. Marko called form the kitchen, “Customers!”

Channel Plex: Season Finale

Max closed the seventh laptop.

The quiet in the motel room sounded strange. After so many voices, so much music.

Then he thought that he heard the sound of a helicopter approaching.

The phone on the pillow buzzed again. He crawled over to it. There were bright lights outside, shining through the curtains.

Max picked up the phone. Tires squealing, shouting.

The text said: KEEP GOING

Gunfire.

Channel Plex: Cast Pics

These were taken at various locations during the filming of Season Five.
Before things started to go wrong.

According to most fansites, Akimoto and Max would typically spend their off-hours having long, philosophical conversations in the local pubs. 

The crew often reported that Angst and Max worked very well together, devoting equal time to rehearsing scenes and to joking around.

Rumours that Max was resistant to the introduction of Aqua appear to be completely unfounded; according to their cast-mates, he was like a big brother to her.

Both Frank and Max spoke openly about their creative differences, but they were also very clear about the respect they had for each others' work.

Goner apparently took the news that he was being killed very well; he remained an upbeat and enthusiastic addition to the team until the very end. His brief appearance in Season Eight led to much speculation among fans.

Every cast and crew member ever interviewed confirmed that Max and Maggie refused to interact off-camera, in order to infuse their performances with the uncertainty, desperation and fragility that they were famous for.

Even though Suki (version Grown Up) would not appear for two more seasons, she visited the set regularly to watch the cast work, especially Suki (version Kid).

Tatterdemalion's scenes ended up being cut and reworked into Season Six. There were many fansites that speculated about how this decision directly contributed to the radical changes in Season Seven, including the existence of the supposed 'Missing Season'.

Channel Plex: Metaplex Cubed

from the About section of the blog My Life As A Cube:

I once tried to kill myself. Was going to jump from a bridge. And a man stopped, and he talked to me for a long time, and stayed with me until I decided that I would not jump. He walked with me and talked with me for a while after (until we were far away from the bridge). I never saw him again. During our conversation he told me that his name was Max Cube.

A long time after that night, when I wasn't feeling as vulnerable or desperate, I looked for him online. The only Max Cubes I could find were a strange European toy company, a fitness instructor (whose picture was not the man from the bridge), and a character in a series of posts on a blog called Omega Station Twelve.

I began reading Omega Station Twelve everyday. I looked for clues in the posts about the identity of Max Cube. I left comments on the blog but no one ever replied. It was a weird site - the stories rarely had beginnings or endings, they seemed to happen out of order, sometimes they contradicted each other. It was confusing to say the least. There were no new posts after November 8, 2012. The night on the bridge.

But it felt like there was a mystery to it, a hidden pattern... Or maybe I just needed there to be one, to make sense of that night on the bridge, the man who listened. To make it meaningful.

What I have decided to do is start my own blog, to start writing my own stories about Max Cube. He heard me once, maybe he will hear me again. And maybe someone else who needs a mystery or a pattern will find some meaning here.

Channel Plex: Celebrity Plureality

 

Max...

Max :)

 

Max!

 

Max?

 

MAX

Channel Plex: The Brilliance

The following excerpt is taken from producer Greg Logollos' hidden wiretap that was planted in Max Cube's trailer. Mr. Cube can be heard talking on the phone with Entertainment Now! reporter Speck Richards. It was played during Logollos' trial to show how he had spied on his actors' private lives. 

"You know I never thought it would last this long. I'm still amazed at the originality of the series and the fresh stuff that we are able to spawn on a weekly basis. After each episode I wonder how we can top that. But the writers never cease to amaze with the next story arc. Even though we've been on eleven years now... eleven freakin' years - that's hard to believe... I'm just waiting for this current writers' strike to be over so I can head back into the studio and continue on this amazing ride. You think after eleven years of 24 episodes each year and three TV movie specials that you'd get sick of doing the same thing. But for me it's home... It's the comfort of not knowing what lies in store. I'm glad I got in on the ground floor and watched it flourish. Heck, I'm surprised they still want me to keep doing what I do with the major cast overhaul three seasons ago. Yeah, brilliant, simply brilliant.... and yet the similarity between events in our lives were reflected on the series... simply amazing indeed..."

Channel Plex: Now Playing in Theatre Omega