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TLOU Pt3 Plot ideas

So I've just finished Pt2 for a fourth time, and am glad to say I started my fifth run immediately after. I just can't get enough of it. But part of that comes the same issue I had seven years ago when finishing Pt1: day-dreaming about what comes next. And although I've read a lot of speculation, I've arrived at my personal idea of what I think would make a good finale, as it does seem like both Pt1 and Pt2 were acts one and two in a three act play.
FYI: this isn't a fully formed idea, and, like I said, is a product of an obsessive's day-dreams.
So, in my heart of hearts, in Pt 3, I see Ellie seeking out Dina, and returning to Jackson together, alongside J.J. I know that it holds a lot of bad memories for Ellie, but after she left Dina to hunt down Abby, I can see Dina being persistent that they stay in Jackson, as added protection for J.J. as well as herself - this could show Ellie's new goal for the foreseeable future: proving to Dina that she has moved on from Joel's death, and her priority is J.J. and Dina. Ten-or-so years pass, and life in Jackson for the family-of-three is tranquil, and simple. This all takes place within the prologue, as we get to see more of Jackson: further modernisation and expansion, as well as a growing and thriving population. All is well until the Fireflies arrive in Jackson. Led by Abby (with Lev as her second-in-command, perhaps heading her military wing, incorporating the stealth elements of the Seraphites), the group emphasises the 'fire' in 'Fireflies', as flames devour Jackson, and they capture or slaughter all inhabitants. They publicly execute Tommy and Maria, still leaders of their community, as incentive to give up Ellie.
They are hunting Ellie; as the militia group grew over the past decade, they found several doctors, with enough skill and know-how between them to attempt the same procedure that Abby's dad would've performed on Ellie, given the chance. However, now knowing what hangs in the balance and the resistance they had been met with in their first attempt to produce a vaccine, the Fireflies hold the opinion that failure is no option, and they will get Ellie by any means, adopting force as their prominent tool, whilst Abby channels the offensive tactics she'd learned under Isaac in Seattle. Ellie would naturally opt for giving herself up for the safety of Jackson, but before she gets a chance to give herself up, Dina is shot. Her dying wish: save J.J. and get him to safety, to El Paso. She believed some friends she saved from the Ravens in events prior to Pt2 would help, as she'd rescued and returned their daughter whilst in New Mexico. Dina dies in Ellie's arms, as J.J., around the same age as Ellie when she met Joel, stands over them. The loss of her life and the assumption of sole guardianship of J.J. propels Ellie to start to understand the position Joel was in at Salt Lake City, being a choice between saving humankind or protecting someone she loves and feels a parental duty towards. Ellie and J.J. escape, towards Denver, through the Wind River Reservation.
When they arrive, they are met by a small group of Native Americans; their tribe, the Arapaho, were not met by the cordyceps due to their isolation, and although their numbers now dwindle, survived as a tribe. Although at first sceptical and defensive towards Ellie and J.J., they see them, battered and burned, and agree them safe passage. One of the tribe members, becoming worried that his people have run their course, leaves his tribe, and guides Ellie and J.J. as far as Denver on horseback.
Upon reaching Denver, Ellie and J.J. and their guide arrive at the city gate, looking seemingly abandoned, before their guide is shot. Denver is still a QZ, and FEDRA takes no refugees, or prisoners. In the chaos, the two manage to sneak through the sewer. They are met with little resistance in the underground, aside from infected, who are used as defence tools by FEDRA. The local resistance groups have all abandoned the city, as FEDRA starts using the populace as slave labour. Ellie and J.J. hide out in a warehouse, which turns out to be a marijuana growing facility. Whilst holed up, Ellie reminisces to J.J. about her and Dina's bond over the herb. J.J. asks if they can take it, to which Ellie starts to argue he is too young. This causes a conflict of interest internally for her, as she feels again how Joel must've felt. She thinks on it, before realising the reason Joel had thought her too young before: the issue of Ellie being armed. Whilst they talk about it, they are ambushed by FEDRA, who roll up in an pickup, Ellie barely managing to take them all out. This pushes her to arm J.J. with a pistol, in a similar way that Joel had done to her. They take the truck and flee the city under gunfire, J.J. sneakily taking some of the weed in an air-tight jar whilst Ellie is distracted.
They make it to Las Vegas, NM, and hole up there as the truck gets a flat tire. J.J. asks where all the hotels and casinos are, making Ellie laugh genuinely for the first time since Jackson. J.J. reveals the smuggled weed, and Ellie, against her better judgement, agrees to smoke it with him. They find a guitar, and she restrings it as she talks about Dina, Joel, and Jesse as the two of them smoke. She finishes restringing it, but the high caused her to forget she’d lost her fingers, and they laugh. J.J. takes it from her, and plays a few notes, before revealing that he and Dina had been learning to play as a present for Ellie's upcoming birthday. This makes Ellie cry, and they embrace, and go to sleep.
The story picks up with them in a repaired truck, arriving at Truth or Consequences. J.J. points out the weird name of the town, and the "deepness" behind the name. This triggers Ellie to begin thinking of Joel and the consequences of his truth about what happened in Salt Lake City. Distracted by these daydreams, they are caught off-guard with an ambush, similar to the one Ellie and Joel experience in Pittsburgh, this time being delivered by the Ravens, who Dina speaks of in Pt2. They manage to shake them off for a while, before J.J. is captured. Ellie attempts to rescue him, but is captured herself. When she regains consciousness, they are on the road to El Paso, just outside the city.
Ellie manages to escape, but is forced to leave J.J. in captivity. She manages to find a transmitter, and calls out to the Fireflies, letting them know her location. She knows this will be her only chance to get J.J. away from the Ravens, as they will be distracted by the impending Firefly force invading the city. Ellie hides out in an apartment in an abandoned complex in the north of the city - in which she discovers Dina's friends she was supposed to find had resided in, before taking their lives instead of being taken prisoner by the Ravens - which is overlooking the prison which J.J is kept in, as well as the road leading north from the city. After a fortnight of scouting the prison and making an escape plan, she is awoken one night to a warm glow of fire on the northern horizon: the Firefly army, numbering a few hundred, an amount neither the Ravens nor Ellie could possibly hope to hold off against. As they launch their attack, Ellie descends to the prison, learning that all the prisoners have been moved to the southern border of the city, on the cusp of Mexico. The man she learns it from says something along the lines of, "Don't hurt me, I'm a Firefly! I've been waiting for them to rise up again!" to which Ellie replies, "Either way, you're no friend of mine." Before killing him.
She journeys through the city, getting caught between the Fireflies and the Ravens, as well as the infected being drawn towards the huge explosions and gunfire of the newborn war. She finally reaches the prisoners, most of whom pledge Firefly allegiance, and are roaring with cheer, believing Ellie to be a Firefly. She walks along the cages containing them, and shoots them, one-by-one, before arriving at one looking down, silent. She orders him to look up, before J.J. reveals himself, his eyes full of tears at the atrocity she had just committed. She throws her gun down, and starts to cry, before she hears a whistle similar to the Seraphites. She looks over, and lifts her hand up as an arrow impales it, the head stopping short of her face. She cries in pain, and looks to the person who shot it: Lev. And behind him, Abby.
They fight, with Ellie seemingly killing Lev, and is left in a CQC fight with Abby. The is beaten with Abby holding her in a chokehold. As her vision begins to blur, she sees Lev, still alive, taking J.J. out of the cage, throwing him on the floor, and aiming an arrow at him. Ellie becomes overcome with protective rage, managed to use 'mother's strength' to overpower Abby - who believes Ellie is pretty much subdued - and uses Abby's gun to first shoot Lev, then hold Abby and gunpoint. They have a verbal confrontation, before Ellie looks to J.J. - who seems to now understand the nature of people outside of Jackson - and gives an approving nod. Ellie looks at Abby, and says, "I made the mistake of letting you live once, not again." To which Abby replies, "Please, just let me go, I'm finished." Ellie responds, "You'd just come after me." before planting a bullet in Abby's skull. They hear the ongoing war nearby, and look south, to Mexico. They manage to get through the wall, and take a horse from the Ravens stables. The closing scene is the two of them riding away from El Paso and the certainty of death and violence, and towards uncertain safety and peace, which is the better option of the two.
Again, this is just the daydreams of an obsessive, but it comes from a place of love for the series, and I am looking forward to any creative direction the studio decides to take.
I'd really love to hear you guys' opinions of these ideas, and if you'd have any changes. Like I said, I love the series, and any discussion about it. Thanks for reading!
submitted by harryshine to thelastofus [link] [comments]

*Major Spoilers* I'd like to make a complete MHI timeline but in Need your help

Are you guys best as I could tell this is the order of events. I'm quite hazy and fuzzy on dates so any help you guys can give on those would be much appreciated. Once we have all the dates hammered out and all the finer details figure it out I'll do my best to attach this to a coherent timeline. Without further Ado let's get this show on the road.
Beginning of time - The Fallen fall from Heaven
1500's - Machado touches the old ones power.
1700's? - Conrad Dipple "creates" Franks.
1776 - Frank's signed a treaty with Benjamin Franklin alling him with the United States.
1895 - Raymond "Bubba" Shackleford I creates the first professional Monster hunting outfit.
1907? - President Theodore Roosevelt creates PUFF.
1900 - Raymond Shackleford II is born.
1920's - Raymond Shackleford II is bitten by a werewolf and succumbs to the curse and must live his life as a monster.
Early 1970's - Raymond Shackleford II is recruited by Agent Stricken for Special Task Force Unicorn to fight in Vietnam so he can earn a PUFF exemption. Raymond is given the code name Mr. Wolf.
Early 1970's - Mr. Wolf clashes with the KGB agent named Nikolai Petrov, who is also a werewolf, over the course of many months.
Mid 1970's - Mr. Wolf unknowingly bites Sharon Magnum, another member of Special Task Force Unicorn, in the last conflict of the Vietnam War. He leave his alias of Mister Wolf behind.
Mid 1970's - Raymond Shackleford II adopts the new identity of Earle Harbinger and returns home to his family.
Early 1980's - Oliver Chadwick "Chad" Gardenier survives a Barracks bombing in Beirut is granted a vision of his destiny, returns home, kills a horde of zombies at a church Revival, and joins MHI.
Early 1980's - Chad is sent to Seattle where he kills a Lich and and installs a Fae princess as guardian of the city.
Early 1980's - A Special Operations Soldier by the name of "Destroyer" is shot in the head on a small island off the coast of Russia. He is brought back to life by a powerful elder being and given a vision of his destiny and his childrens destiny.
Early 1980's - "Destroyer" meets and marries a poor woman from the soviet union. "Destroyer" then has her immigrate from her home to the United States where she is then impregnated. She give birth to 2 sons named Owen and Mosh.
Mid 1980's - Chad is caught fornicating with an underage elf in Seattle and is forced to flee to New Orleans.
Mid 1980's - Martin Hood, a member of MHI's team smiley face, fakes his own death has it blamed on Earl Harbinger. As a consequence Dwayne Myers , another member of mhi's Team smiley face, quits MHI and joins the Monster Control Bureau.
Mid 1980's - Chad becomes the only surviving member of The Fat Tuesday Massacre a level 4 event.
Mid 1980's - Chad goes on sabbatical with "points", his on-again-off-again girlfriend. Subsequently Chad fornicates her brains out andimpregnates her, unbeknownst to Chad.
Mid 1980's - Milo Anderson a Mormon from Utah (?) is saved from a monster attack and joins MHI.
Mid 1980's - Chad and the entirety of Monster Hunter International kill a larval old one before it is allowed to awaken.
Early 1990's - Susan goes "missing" in Europe hunting vampires. Suasan is presumed dead and this throws her husband Raymond Sackleford IV into despair and desperation.
1995 - The Christmas Party. Raymond Sackleford IV opens a portal in an attempt to return Susan back to the land of the living. A dimensional portal is opened and demon kill a great number of hunter including Chad and Raymond Sackleford V.
International - Owen Zastava Pitt son of "Destroyer" kills a werewolf in a his accounting firms corporate offices.
International - Owen meets Julie Shackelford and Earl Harbinger for the first time, and is recruited by MHI.
International - Owen meets the rookies of the MHI squad Holly Newcastle and "Tripp" Jones. Owen also meet Skippy and Edward the Orcs.
International - Owen encounters vampires and wights on the ship the Antoine Henri. And discovers a major plot in involving Master level vampires and more powerful being called Machado.
International - Owen dies in Natchy Bottom from demons the same as the ones at the Christmas party. The MCB Nukes the portal. Owen reverses time and doesn't die in Natchy Bottom. The MCB still nukes the portal.
International - Susan Shackelford is revealed to be a master vampire. Raymond Shackelford IV is "killed" by Susan.
International - The the final battle between mhi and the master vampires take place at DeSoya Caverns.
International - Julie Shackelford is saved from a fatal woundby a mysterious figure called "the guardian".
International - Owen defeats Lord Machado.
Vendetta - Martin Hood and his daughter Lucinda attack Owen in Mexico with a horde of zombies.
Vendetta - The ogres Bia and cratos attack Owen's brother Mosh at a live concert.
Vendetta - the MHI compound in Cazador Alabama is assaulted by a giant horde of zombies lead by Martin Hood.
Vendetta - Julie is mortally wounded however it appears that she has been given the powers of the Guardian and is subsequently able to regenerate.
Vendetta - mosh is kidnapped during the assault and has his fingers removed as part of torture.
Vendetta - Owen marries Julie.
Vendetta - Owen travels through a portal to save his brother.
Vendetta - Lucinda loses an arm.
Vendetta - Owen kills Martin hood and slays an old one.
Alpha - Earl tracks Nikolai Petrov to Copper Lake Michigan, Just as a massive werewolf outbreak is about to begin. Lucinda hood is also present aiding a mysterious figure known as the Alpha.
Alpha - a Shawty team are Monster Hunters known as Briarwood eradication services is dispatched to copper lake one of them is a man by the name of Jason lococo.
Alpha - An officer known as Heather Kercanine is bitten and turned into a werewolf.
Alpha - The Alpha kills Nikolai
Alpha - Earle and Heather Kill Alpha
Alpha - Jason is recruited to join MHI
Alpha - Heather is forced by Stricken to join Special Task Force Unicorn in order to earn her PUFF exemption.
Between Alpha & Legion - Owen impregnates Julie
Between Alpha & Legion - Edward the orc meets Tanya the elf and convinces her to join MHI
Legion - The International Conference for Monster Hunting Professionals is being held at the last dragon casino and hotel in Las Vegas. All major monster hunting teams are in attendance including MHI. The conference is being coordinated by an individual simply known as management.
Legion - A mystrious being known as the Nachtmar is causing the worst nightmares of the casinos patrons to come to life.
Legion - The entire casino is sucked into another dimension.
Legion - Owen is forced to abandon a group of hunters including Jason in above mentioned dimension to defeat the Nachtmar.
Legion - Owen defeats the Nachtmar.
Nemesis - United States government breaks treaty with Franks and issues a bounty on him.
Nemesis - the Nemesis program is given the green light
Nemesis - Fallen Angel Kurst hunts for Frank's in one of the Nemesis body
Nemesis - Meyers is killed by Paranormal Tactical? Or Nemisis I can't remember?
Nemesis - Frank's least Alabama where he reenacts The Wolfman vs Frankenstein's monster fight
Nemesis - Nemesis is defeated
Seige - Owen and Julie meet Poly, a cylops who can see into other dimensions
Seige - Owen collects a dead drop from management who appears to have survived the last dragon event.
Seige - Owen hatch has a plan to save the missing hunters trapped in the other dimension
Seige - Owen retrieve a ring from Gerecht, a legendary roman heroe, in order to find the hunters trapped in the other dimension
Seige - Owen discovers that the only place he can get to the dimension is on a small island off the coast of Russia.
Seige - Owen goes to Russia to broker a deal with officials to allow them to put the island Under Siege
Seige - mhi trains in Alaska
Seige - MHI puts the island Under Siege
Seige - I want enters the other dimension looking for the hunters
Seige - Owen meets "Jason" again as he is hiding from the wild Hunt
Seige - Owen saves hunters from the wild Hunt and allows them to return home while he sacrifices himself and holds off the wild Hunt.
Seige - Owen is captured and finds out that Jason lococo died in this dimension and Owen had been interacting with previously wasn't fact some form of dark God.
Seige - Destroyer Dies Earthside so his spirit could save his son Owen.
Guardian - Raymond "little bubba" Shackelford VI is born
Guardian - Raymond Shackelford III dies while being attacked by a mysterious creature.
Guardian - little bubba is "TAKEN"
Guardian - Julie murders her way across Europe in search of her son.
Guardian - Julie rescues her son.
Seige - Owen escapes the capture of the dark God with the assistance of his father's spirit.
Seige - Owen returns earthside months after the seige has ended.
Guardian - Julie kills the mysterious creature ALUOCH who stole her son.
ALRIGHT GUYS OTHER GRAMMATICAL ERRORS WHAT NEEDS TO BE FIXED? DATES? ORDER OF EVENTS? DETAILS? LET ME KNOW BELOW!
submitted by beattywill80 to TheMHI [link] [comments]

OBLIGATORY FILLER MATERIAL – Just take a hard left at Daeseong-dong…10

Continuing…
“Well, if that doesn’t throw the damper on things.” Dax remarks on our trip back down to the ground floor.
“Yeah. How rude. Up and deceasing your own self without bothering to tell anyone beforehand.” I noted.
“This is going to be a bloody balls-up. Trust me. This is going to be inordinately messy. A bog-standard botch job. A total dog’s dinner, just wait and see.” Cliffs adds.
“First, we have to contact IUPGS. Then what? Does Bulgaria have a consulate or embassy here? I wouldn’t think so…Then what?” I grieved. For once, I was rather low; both emotionally and on ideas.
“Let’s go back to the conference room and let everyone know. We’ll pull a brain session together. We should be able to sort out what needs to be done. The hotel already knows, so the state security forces also do as well. Be prepared for lengthy interrogation sessions, Gentlemen”, Cliff advised.
Back in the conference room, we relayed the sad information. All were taken aback and there were general notes of commiseration. However, since no one knew Iskren too well personally, it was more detached professionalism rather than overt weeping and wailing.
“Let us toast to our fallen comrade!” was accepted as both entirely appropriate and a damn good idea.
I got on the conference room phone and ordered up some more sandwiches, mixers, and bottles of booze. The moment was obviously structured that way, I reasoned.
We made our toasts to our fallen comrade and we had half a chalkboard filled with suggestions of what to do next.
The main consensus was: “Nothing.”
As in there was not much we could do. We were foreign nationals in a strangely foreign land. Our comrade was the sole member of his country, that is, Bulgaria, and the closest geographically we had aboard was Dr. Academician Ivan. No one wanted to loose Ivan on the DPRK security forces and have to deal with all that international fallout.
After some number of hours, after I suggested we all remain in the conference room as we’d (A.) be together, as in unity there is strength, (2.) we’d have each other’s backs when and if it came to interrogations, and, (iii.) this is where the free booze was.
Then there was a polite knock on the door.
I, as the den mother of this special education class, slowly got up and answered the knock.
It was a cadre of DPRK internal security forces, kitted out in their spiffy, tailor-made, and actually, quite smart-looking uniforms. Shoes and buttons polished to mirror-finishes, pants creases that could cut flesh, and enough polished brass to construct a spittoon.
“Hello? Yes?” I said through the semi-opened door.
“May we please come in? If the time is convenient.”, the head military type, very treacly asked.
“Of course”, I replied, “Please, do come in.”
Four of them entered as one. They did a quick-step, tight-march formation together and went to the head of the conference table.
“Good day, gentlemen. I am Colonel Hwangbo Dong-Hyeon of Internal State Security. First, we must offer condolences on the loss of your comrade. It must have come as a shock.” He intones.
There are mutters of “Thanks.” and “Damn right it was.”
“I have been entrusted to update you on the, ah, ‘situation’. First, Dr. Iskren Dragomirov Dinev, recently deceased, has been examined by the best medical practitioners in the country. He was obviously a foreign national and state guest, and we do not wish this to be a cause of suspicion or mistrust, especially during this auspicious Festival season.” He asserted.
We listened with rapt attention.
“I am authorized to tell you that it does not appear that the late Dr. Dinev expired of any untoward circumstances; or ‘foul play’, I believe is the western term. It has been ascertained that he expired due to wholly natural causes; namely massive myocardial infarction. Given his age, apparent health, and, ah, mass, this does seem a most reasonable explanation. This has been verified by no less than three DPRK medical professionals; one of which is the Emeritus teaching professor of Cardiology at Pyongyang Medical University. Again, you have our deepest condolences on the loss of your comrade.” He continued.
“I do remember Iskren complaining of gas pains the other night at the bar,” Joon agreed. “Thought nothing of it, given the change in all our diets.”
Colonel Hwangbo studied Joon like an entomologist examining a particularly fascinating new species of beetle.
“Which has been fine! Just rather rich compared to our usual food!” Joon hastily added.
Satisfied that Joon wasn’t making light of the ‘fine’ North Korean cuisine, Colonel Hwangbo continued, “As such, the Bulgarian Embassy here in Pyongyang has been contacted and apprised of the situation. They have taken over the case, as well as recovered the mortal remains and possessions of Dr. Dinev; all of which were conserved and authenticated by his Bulgarian national counterparts.”
“Ah, that’s good”, I said, “I’m pleased that there actually is a Bulgarian embassy here.”
“Ah. So.”, Col. Hwangbo continued, “Yes. They have already taken possession of Dr. Dinev’s mortal remains and possessions as I had noted, and will handle their repatriation to his country and family. As you can see, we have acted in the best of faith and with the utmost respect for your lately departed. Again, our condolences.”
There were some “Harrumphs”, and “Yeah, rights”, from the crowd, but since I was the team leader, it fell to me to handle this situation from here on out.
“Yes, indeed”, I replied, “We see that and do so deeply appreciate your efficiency and your keeping open the lines of communication. We have absolutely no room to complain. You, your team, your country, and your services have acted to the highest degree of professionalism and decorum. Let me extend, for the team, our heartiest appreciations in this most unfortunate matter.”
That seemed to please the Korean security forces. So much so they didn’t see the rolling eyes and smirks of grudging compliance from the crowd. I gave the evil-eye to several who were twittering quietly at my delivery of a load of over-the-top twaddle in the name of international goodwill.
“Thank you, Doctor…? Doctor…?”, he asked.
“Doctor Rocknocker.” I replied, “It’s spelled just as it sounds,”, I chuckled a knowing chuckle.
Colonel Hwangbo cracked a small smile for the first time since we met.
“As long as our orders of business are concluded, “ I inquired, “Might we offer you and your men a drink or sandwich or…”
“Cigar?” he suddenly brightened.
I smiled the sly, smirking smile of one of those used to the old duplicitous game of international diplomacy.
“Why”, I replied smilingly, “Of course.”
Col Hwangbo gratefully accepted a brace of fine Oscuro cigars. Probably more tobacco he’s seen in one place at one time since the last he rousted a snozzeled Western journalist or hammered European tourist with an overage of custom’s tobacco allowances.
His team eschewed cigars, but gladly accepted a pack each of pastel-colored Sobranie cocktail cigarettes.
It still slays me to see these battle-hardened, armed-to-the-teeth, unsmiling servants of the great state of Best Korea mincing about the courtyard smoking avocado, baby-blue, and peach-colored pastel cigarettes.
The Colonel and his team left after a couple of quick smokes, sandwiches, and surreptitious beers. I even enticed the Colonel into a couple of convivial vodka toasts when his team was otherwise occupied.
“Well, gang”, I said, closing the door, “Looks like that situation has been handled, most appropriately at that. We’ll miss ol’ Iskren, but at least he went fast and hopefully painlessly.”
I knew that last one was but a load of old dingo’s kidneys as I’ve had run-ins with cardiac disorders in the past and they are anything but painless. In any case, that was, as I noted, in the past. What was done is done. It was as it was. It is as it is.
“So, gentlemen”, I say, “Let us get back to work. Reality calls. Now, we’ve given you landlubbers the lowdown on our seismic pleasure cruise. Now we’d like to hear what you who had stayed onshore have come up with.”
Erlan, Graco, and Viv fill us in on the regional geology of Best Korea and lay out a plan to examine the sedimentary piles closest to the few paved roads in the north and east of the country.
We’ll be traveling by bus, as my request for four or five off-road vehicles was denied due to timing and lack of availability.
Yeah. Right. What a massive pile of bovine biogenic colluvium. A country with a military as huge as Best Korea’s and they can’t spare a few jeeps or Hummer reproductions?
Truth be told, they still don’t trust us and don’t want to let us out of their sight.
However, we did manage to snag some internal publications from the Central Geological Survey of Mineral Resources, which we figured as a major coup. Never before were Westerners allowed to even know of the existence of these materials, much less be able to research (read: slyly copy) them.
That ‘personal shaver’ I carried was actually a sneaky personal copier, a Vupoint ST470 Magic Wand Portable Scanner with all the external stickers peeled off, and any serial numbers abraded away.
Hey, they photograph us from every angle on the sly, listen in on our conversations, record our phone calls…hell, turnabout isn’t just fair play, it’s almost expected.
It’d be rude to refuse to play along.
Anyways, we learned that The Korean Peninsula (KP) occupies a junction area of three large tectonic domains that are the Paleo-Central Asian Orogenic Belt, Paleo-Tethyan Orogenic Belt, and the Western Pacific Orogenic Belt.
Tectono-fascinating.
To summarize:
  1. The Archean Rangrim massif is divided into the Rangrim and Kwanmo submassifs, high-grade region and greenstone belt, respectively.
  2. Early Paleoproterozoic rocks underwent metamorphism up to granulite facies, which may be correlated to the Jiao-Liao-Ji mobile belt in the North China Craton (NCC).
  3. Proterozoic rift sequences in North Korea are similar to those in the NCC with rare late Paleoproterozoic strata and more Neoproterozoic strata.
  4. Mesozoic igneous rocks are extensively distributed in the KP.
  5. The main Paleozoic basin, the Phyongnam basin in NK, have a similar Paleozoic tectono-stratigraphy to the NCC.
Of most interest is item #5. The Phyongnam basin is the only sedimentary and depositional basin of mention in the north of the Korean peninsula; and therefore the center of our attention as it pertains to oil and gas.
The potential source rocks, and possible reservoirs, include the Paleozoic Late Ordovician Miru Series was identified as the Koksan Series and subsequently renamed. The 170-meter thick limestone and siltstone centered around the P'yongnam Basin have extensive crinoid, coral, and gastropod fossils. Paleogeography researchers have suggested that corals formed in the Miru Sea-a branch of the South Yangtze Sea. At the base of the Taedong Synthem is the P'yong'an Supergroup, which lies disconformably atop older Paleozoic rocks.
In the Pyongyang Coalfield it is divided into the 650-meter sandstone, shale, and conglomerate of the Nogam Formation, the 500-meter Kobangsan Formation, 350-meter coal-bearing Sadong Formation and 250-meter chert-bearing Hongjom Formation, all typically assigned to an Upper Permian shallow marine environment.
In the Mesozoic, north of Pyongyang, Precambrian basement rocks are unconformably overlain by a Jurassic limestone conglomerate ascending to layers of siltstone and mudstone. The Upper Jurassic Shinuiju Formation northwest of Shinuiju has sandstone, conglomerate, and mudstone up to two kilometers thick.
Offshore drilling in the West Korea Bay Basin indicates these rocks are the onshore extension of offshore units. It is subdivided into fluvial rocks and Upper Jurassic black shale, limestone, conglomerate and sandstone formed in a lake environment.
There are very few Cenozoic sediments are known in North Korea, likely as a result of erosion due to uplift of the peninsula. Submarine normal faults along the eastern coastline may have driven crustal tilting. The 350-meter thick Bongsan Coalfield in Hwanghae Province on the west coast preserves and coal-bearing layers dating to the Eocene.
Further to the north, in the West Korea Bay Basin Eocene and Oligocene sedimentary rocks up to three kilometers thick unconformably overlie Mesozoic rocks, formed in lakes and coal swamps during the Paleogene.
What this meant is that we’d need to travel mostly northeast and/or southwest. This was fortuitous as the paved roads in the country were created in structural valleys formed by the primary fault trends in the country. The main trans-tensional set trended NE:SW and the conjugate set trends approximately 900 to the main set at NW:SE.
The topography was heavily dissected by drainages and the terrain consists mostly of hills and mountains separated by deep, narrow valleys. The coastal plains are wide in the west and discontinuous in the east.
The plan was to take the bus north to Sunchon, then hang a right off towards Unsan and Yongha. There were outcrops between the last two towns and they appear to be upper Paleozoic to Lower Mesozoic clastics. Ideal oil and gas hunting grounds.
From there, we’d head north-northeast towards Yangwon. There appeared to be some fair to excellent outcrops of rocks that are as of yet, unidentified as to age. From there, we’d continue to follow the outcrop belts either to their termination at the basin’s edges or at international borders with China or Russia.
But, once we hit the field, time goes into relative warp. Put a bunch of geologists out on some relatively virgin outcrops and just stand back as they spend hour after hour after hour first looking for evidence of the formation’s provenance, it’s age and field relations. Then begin the heartfelt, stalwart, and sometimes vicious, arguments between all concerned about each and every one of those salient points.
We were all looking forward to it and wouldn’t have it any other way. It’s our intellectual and scientific equivalent of meat and potatoes.
We all agreed on a way forward and generated a document to deliver to those in charge of our logistics on this trip. There would be a total of 11 Western geoscientists, four guides, perhaps a couple of national geologists or geophysicists, and whatever cadre the shiny suit squad wanted to include.
There would also be a driver, his relief, and a couple of extra translators. Good thing it was a large bus, as it’s going to be a huge crew.
We needed to allow our handlers a full day to arrange room and board for us while in the field, as we had to be bivouacked somewhere outside our fine hotel. It needed to be secure, pass sanctuary muster, and be ‘controllable’, referring to both Western scientists and nosy locals.
One thing we found odd was the lack of concern for long-term logistics, not to mention the end of our self-ordained indentured servitude. When this trip and all the Western geoscientists were contacted, we were all assured of an opportunity to meet with the Supreme Leader, Kim Jong-Un once our trip was completed.
We were to personally deliver one hell of an international photo-op. A ‘hey look how progressive we are’ meeting and our findings in this wonderful and progressive country.
But lately, with what we thought was the fallout of the Festival washing out all the usual propaganda, we’ve heard nothing about Herr Comrade Leader Supremo, K1J1-Un. Nor had we heard one iota about our intended final meeting with him before we left for China.
Since there are “absolutely no” COVID-19 cases in Best Korea, it seemed, well, odd that Beijing was our only possible current exit port of call, and onward to our individual homes.
There were all flavors of rumors flying all throughout the basement bars and casinos of the hotel. One claimed that Kim was now receiving treatment at a villa in the Mount Myohyang resort north of the capital Pyongyang after cardiovascular surgery. That he was near death and that his sister, Kim Yo Jong, is already warming up in the North Korean political bullpen if her brother kacks it.
Others said Kim is believed to be staying at an unspecified location outside of Pyongyang, with some close confidants. It was said that Kim appeared to be normally engaged with state affairs and there has not been any unusual movement or emergency reaction from North Korea's governing party, military, or cabinet.
There was also one other that tries to cover up any conspiracy rumors by shouting over a raspy bullhorn: "Pay no attention to that man behind the curtain!”, “Pay no attention to that man behind the curtain!"; but most ignored that little crank.
We all thought that rather odd, but of fairly low concern. In the final analysis, it would have little impact on our studies and their outcome. In other words, it wouldn’t affect our pay one way or the other. We all felt like we’ve given more than what was called for on missions such as this.
And we still haven’t a clue as to when this will all come to an end.
However, we all agreed to the consultation, it would have been fun to meet with him and have our pictures taken with the Supreme Leader. Dr. Academician Ivan Ivanovich Khimik. was especially cheesed that he might miss the opportunity to make finger-vee bunny ears behind the Supreme Commander of the Armed Forces of the DPRK during one of our photo sessions.
We all agree if we do somehow find ourselves in the same room with Ivan and Kim Jong-Un, we’ll form a human shield around the latter. We want to get back home; as we’ve all heard the rumors of the horrors of ‘political realignment’ camps here in Best Korea.
So the meeting breaks up and I’m left with Dax to take the final inventory. Two loads of sandwiches gone, piles of used napkins, ketchup-y table linens, bacon rinds and chicken bones, drippy ends of ice cream cones, prune pits, peach pits, orange peel, gloppy glumps of cold oatmeal, pizza crusts, and withered greens, soggy beans and tangerines, crusts of black burned buttered toast, gristly bits of beefy roasts…
“The hell with this”, I say, I grab the last nearly full bottle of vodka and hand Dax a bottle of Royal Navy dark Rum.
“Tally’s good”, I say, not really giving two tiny shits at this point. “At least, I think it is. Let’s make like horseshit and hit the trail.”
“I’m headed back to our floor and going to zone out in front of some old, looped BBC for the next few hours with a cold drink and hot cigar.” I proclaim.
“Oh, hell”, Dax says, “I agree. It’s been a weird couple of days. Let’s go.”
And so we do.
On the way, I leave the logistics concerns and itinerary for the upcoming field trips with the front desk clerk. I slip her 1000 won as its Festival! and I had a bulgy pocketful of same. She smiled and quietly said there’s be a surprise waiting for me in my room when I got there.
“Rock, you fucking old hound!”, Dax exclaimed as he punched me lightly on the shoulder. “Taking a dip in the hotel secretarial pool?”
“Dax, you surprise me”, I said in my defense, “I have been, and continue to be, happily married for the last 38 years to the most loving, most intelligent, most well-connected, and most accurate snap-shot with a Glock .380 Automatic I know of.”
“Well, me ol’ mucker”, Dax smiles slyly, “If one has been happily married for 38 years, one must have a little something on the side. Wink, wink. Nudge, nudge, ‘eh, Squire?”
“Oh, nothing like that”, I replied, while waiting the obligatory 30 minutes for the fucking elevator to arrive. “I couldn't break my word to Esme, and not because I don’t believe in a God that will send me to Hell without an electric fan or because it's not the right thing to do. I simply don't want to. A man is only as good as his word; and if he loses that, he loses too much. I couldn’t function without people thinking that I’m square and on the level. My business would crumble to dust. As would my marriage.”
“Yeah, there is that”, Dax agrees, “You say something is going to happen and God damn, it fucking happens. That’s what makes you honest and honestly scary.”
I stare intently at the annunciator that tells me the fucking elevator is stuck on 4 again.
“You’re not mob, are you?” Dax harshly whispers, snickeringly.
I turn to face Dax and smile wistfully.
Я с уважением отказываюсь отвечать, потому что я искренне верю, что мой ответ может обвинить меня”, I reply quietly.
“What the hell does that mean?” Dax demands.
“I respectfully decline to answer because I honestly believe my answer might tend to incriminate me”, I calmly reply.
“Oh, look. Bloody elevator’s finally here.” I note and stride aboard.
Dax gets caught up in the tsunami of the crowd and is carried bodily inside. It was so remorseless, he almost lost his grip on his bottle of Dark Rum.
Up on ‘our’ floor, I go to key open my room. Dax is just down the hall and looking around to see what special surprise might show up. I was too tired to wait so I just push in, and see all my field clothes fully laundered, pressed, and either folded or hanging.
Someone broke into my room during the day and committed a compound neatness.
“POUND! Pound! POUND!” Hmm, appears to be someone at my door.
“Yes, Dax?” I said.
“You too?” he fumed, “Everything, cleaned to within an inch if its life. They even polished my bloody field boots.”
“Oh, fuck”, I said and ran to find mine re-pristinized.
“FUCK! FUCK! FUCKITYFUCKFUCK!” I swore. They had polished my field boots and removed the fine years-of-work-to-acquire near-subsurface of the leather’s oil layer. They polished the water-proofing and conditioning out of the leather of our boots.
“OK. OK.”, I said, “Minor emergency. Cool out. I have the solution.”
I toss Dax a small can. It was brown, oily, and claimed to be “Neatsfoot oil”. It was the SPF- 500 of field leathers.
“Go ahead and oil them up with that”, I told Dax, “I’ve got another can, so don’t worry. Use what you need, don’t be shy, but if there’s any left, let me know. I’ll combine ours and offer it to anyone else in the team who had their boots steam-cleaned.”
So, a bit later, I’m sitting on my hotel room’s floor, on several sheets of newspaper, rubbing Neatsfoot Oil into my ancient, multinational size 16 EEE Vasque™ Tracker field boots.
Then there’s a knock at the door.
“It’s open. Enter carefully”, I say aloud.
It’s a bell clerk with a room service cart. On the cart are a bucket of ice, a bowl of sliced limes, I think, several gimlet glasses, some Best Korean ‘Air Koryo’ carbonated citrus drink, and a fresh bottle of “Kaesong” vodka.
“Compliments of the front desk”, the bellman says.
I stand up, tip him a few thousand won, and set a new record in mixology; a fresh brace of drinks in less than 7.3 seconds.
I offer the bellman the lighter one and he accepts with a wide smile.
I say “건배” (geonbae) literally means 'empty glass', which is similar to the expression 'bottom's up'. For you see, my Korean’s coming along a treat.
We clink glasses and send those drinks to the places that they’ll do the best.
The bellman smiles offloads the cart onto the table in my room, shakes my hand, and departs.
I finish my boots, my drink, and my cigar. After another drink or seven, I crater early. Dax was right; it had been a long, weird day.
The next day, Festival! is still going strong, but still no word on the whereabouts of El Líder Supremo. I find that odd, only slightly interesting, and since it will impact the day’s events zero, I file it away for maybe later use.
I go to the hotel pool around 0530 and there’s no one there. I’m able to get in a good 100 laps, unburdened with either small talk or by yammering kids blocking my lanes. I go early as I don’t wear gloves in the water, obviously. Statistically, there is less chance there will be others, adults and kids included, that would get freaked out by my gnarly left hand. I really don’t feel like recounting the old Russian Rig Accident story again.
After a brisk shower and double shower-scotch back in my room, I dress casually and wander down to the casino and bar level. It’s essentially breakfast time, but with the revelers not giving two hoots to AM vs. PM, it’s surprisingly busy. I find a perch up on Mahogany Ridge and order a classical breakfast cocktail of one liter of beer and 100 milliliters of chilled vodka.
I see Mr. Ho is manning the bar. I ask him to ring the massage parlor down the hall and see if Ms. Nang Bo-Hee is free sometime this morning.
He does and reports that she has an open hour and a half at 0900. Would I like it or any portion of that time?
“I’ll take the lot”, I said. “Tell them I’ll be there spot on 0900.”
“That’s great.”, Mr. Ho says, hanging up the phone, “Doctor Rock, they tell me that with the Festival discount and you taking the full 90 minutes, they can cut you a very special deal.”
“I’ll bet”, I replied, “Like what?”
“Oh, I cannot say for they did not tell me”, he smiled, “They will tell you when you arrive.”
“Marvelous”, I exhaled tiredly. “Another, Mr. Ho; make it a double, if you would please.”
The massage center here is run by a group not employed directly by the hotel. It’s a separate entity altogether. They run specials and have different discount programs that are not only not controlled nor advertised by the hotel, but they’re also not in any way beholden to the hotel, except for rent, I suppose and run it like their own little fiefdom.
Ms. Nang, my preferred masseuse, is a little, tiny Korean lassie about 5 feet tall and probably all of 90 pounds soaking wet. However, she is amazingly well trained and could probably put me in the hospital for a lengthy visit with her wiles and methods of flesh, bone, and muscle manipulation.
She offers a whole suite of different massage genres: Swedish, hot stone, aromatherapy, deep tissue, sport, trigger point, reflexology, shiatsu, Thai, and Rolfing.
Oh, fuck. I know Rolfing. I tried that nonsense back in grad school with an old east Indian lady that could have linebackered for the Minnesota Vikings. That shit fucking hurt. Today, it’d incapacitate me permanently. That’s a definite no-go.
I decide that it’s going to be the Hot Stone-treatment today. A geological-manipulation inquiry.
At 0900 I’m the only client at the massage ‘store’. It’s early, day two of the festival, and people are either sleeping off the previous night’s festivities or too wobbly to even think of partaking in a massage.
I’ve had several major back surgeries over the years, including one bilateral laminectomy about seven years ago that removed 7.5 kilos of overgrown bone and muscle from my lumbar region, so I’ve been very cautious about soliciting a massage. The masseuse has to know that area is strictly verboten and will do everything to avoid annoying that particular piece of bodily real-estate.
I’ve walked or limped out of massages before where the practitioner said they understood my reticence, but went ahead and kneaded and provoked that land of keloids and deep-body scar tissue.
However, based on past experience, Ms. Nang knows full well my reluctance as well as my desires. That’s the reason I’m returning. She’s very, very good; a consummate professional and has a never-ending series of jokes and observations while she’s pummeling you into submission.
Today, we retire to a private cubicle and she hands me a small robe or napkin, not sure which, of Korean manufacture.
She tells me to get au natural and to wear the robe while she prepares the tools of her trade.
OK, I’m not a small person; not by a long shot. This robe, however, is made for a sprite, not even for a small person.
She returns to our massage cubicle as I’m sitting there, at the end of the massage table, sipping my drink clad only in my dapper red-and-white checkered boxers.
“You need to be unclothed, Doctor. Use the robe. OK, sir Rock?” she says.
“Ms. Nang,”, I said, shaking my head, “It’s one or the other.” I show her how laughable the robe is as I can’t even get it over my upper arm. It’s not even as a tea towel when it comes to covering my expansive acres of exposed epidermis.
“I can close door.”, she says, “I’m used to it. I am professional. Does not bother me if it does not bother you.”
I lost all forms of bashfulness, timidity, or prudery long, long ago. After years and years of Russian banya, Swedish massage, Turkish baths, and surgery; well, if it don’t bother you, it don’t bother me.
“OK”, I say, using the robe as a small two-dimensional breechcloth. She tells me to ‘hop’ up on the massage table and lie down, facing the floor.
After chuckling about the fact that I haven’t hopped for decades, I wander over to the nicely padded and extremely clean massage table and lie down. She rearranges the ‘robe’ to cover my backside and tells me to relax. She’ll be right back with the stones.
I’ve never tried this type of massage before, but as a geologist, I must; if for nothing else, progress in the name of science.
Ms. Nang returns with a large parcel consisting of many sizes of steamed stones. They were river-washed and tumbled basalt from the looks of them, all wrapped in a large fuzzy towel.
Now she finds the large towels…
She selects them one by one and places them in ‘special, strategic’ spots on my exposed back. From the lower 2/3rds of the nape of the neck, down the spine, over the fundus mountains, and down the back of each leg.
It’s a warm, almost hot in some places, but not an uncomfortable feeling. She returns to adjust them, grind them in a bit in places, and flip them to extract all that igneous lithological thermal goodness.
I have to admit, at that point, it was feeling quite delightful. Relaxed; I had my drink and was being kneaded My dorsal musculature was being de-lithified by the application of hot rocks and expert point massage.
All was going quite well as Ms. Nang was building a huge tip in her ‘job well done’ bank.
Then the rocks had all attained room temperature. She excused herself to reload with another minor outcrop’s-worth and told me to flip over for round two of the process.
“In for a dime, in for a dollar”, I said, as I flipped over and use the robe as a laughable forward-facing breechcloth.
Ms. Nang mentioned that she was always fascinated by Westerners and their surplus of bodily fuzz. With my long, shoulder-length silver hair, full Grizzly Adams beard that drooped down to my sternum, and torso that picked up where my beard left off; she was quite unprepared to see the beached silver-gray panda that awaited upon her return.
“Dr. Rock!’, she exclaimed, “You are as a bear! So much hair. And silver color!”
“Yeah, sorry”, I replied, “Just the hand genetics dealt me. I guess it’s an adaptation for ethanol-fueled organisms that never feel cold.”
“I will soon return.” She titters excitedly and almost runs out of the room.
“Hmmm. I wonder what that’s all about?” I muse as I lie largely undraped in the massage cubicle.
Suddenly, the door bursts open and every female massage practitioner there herded into the room. They simply had to see the specimen upon which the delightful Ms. Nang was working.
OK, truth be told, I was a bit taken aback. Here I am lying on an elevated, and heavily padded, massage table. I’m ‘wearing’ only a crooked, worried grin and a sheet of a cotton washcloth that measures about 12x12 inches.
They Oohed! and Ahhhed!
I did feel like some form of an alien animal suddenly thrust out into public view. It was a bit disconcerting, but as usual, I just tried to deflect any unease with jokes and idiot remarks. At my age, not much is going to bother me, and this I found all the more laughable than troubling.
Suddenly, I was fielding their barrage of questions:
“You are American? All American men so…hairy?”
“Yes and no”, I replied. I also mentioned I hadn’t undertaken a study in that particular subject.
“Why you so big?” one tiny lass asked, eyes as big as dinner plates.
“Genetics”. I replied. “Just a corn-fed Baja Canadian doofus. We grow ‘em big back home.”
“Can we touch?” one particularly brave little lass asks.
“Touch what?” I asked. Look, I might be over 6 decades old, but there are still some areas reserved for my one and only betrothed.
I did tell Esme of this whole event later that evening during our nightly call. She laughed herself silly.
“Your beard! Oriental men never have such beard. We touch maybe?” she implored.
I was going to say “Go nuts”, but I decided that a simple “Sure” would be more fitting.
So they did. They were enthralled. They had never before, from what I was told, seen such a large silver-gray ZZ Top-style beard, especially here at the hotel. That part was weird enough, but when they started in on working their way south toward the equator, I had to say something to dissuade them.
“Where were you girls 45 years ago?” I laughed.
I don’t think they got the joke. They became somewhat bolder in their austral exploratory activities.
“OK! Time out! Ms. Nang! We have an appointment to keep”, I said as I shooed the rest of the lassies away, “We need to finish what we started.”
By the time that the third syllable of that last sentence came into being, I knew it wasn’t the right thing to say.
They all laughed and tittered as Ms. Nang ushered them out of the room. I could have sworn I heard the door lock behind them.
Ms. Nang reprieved her earlier stone placement therapy, with a couple of strategic detours.
She wasn’t that type of masseuse, and I wasn’t looking for that type of massage. She did, however, knead and pummel me mercilessly.
I’ve been bruised less from barroom brawls.
Finally, she announces that she’s finished. She’ll leave while I shower, as she used essential aromatic oils, and would await me out in the lobby.
After showering, I felt like a large bowl of pummeled Jello. I felt relaxed, and for the first time in weeks, my back was silent. My head was clear as a spring Sunday morn in Reykjavik.
The full 90 minutes, plus sideshow, was 4,500 won.
I paid the owner the required sum and handed Ms. Nang an additional 15,000 for a job well done. And for another anecdote that goes into the hopper.
I left the massage parlor feeling quite fine, thank you. I wandered over to the bar to see if I could augment and prolong this feeling of harmony with the universe. The mental picture even now of all those cooing Korean lassies in the massage room never fails to elicit a laugh and head shake.
A few hours later, I’m back in my room, tidying up my field notes and making certain all my paperwork was heavily encoded and up to date. It was, so I placed a number of expensive overseas calls to catch up with everyone on the outside.
I’m thinking of calling room service to have my mini-bar repaired when my room phone rings.
“Now who would be calling me at this hour?” I wondered.
It was the tour group leader. He informed me that the itinerary had been worked out and we’d be leaving tomorrow for the field at 0600. We were to arrive with all our luggage and be prepared to check out. We would spend at least a week in the field, if not two, depending on our results, and be bivouacking in different places in the interior of the country.
I thanked him for the information and said I’d inform the rest of the team. He told me that wouldn’t be necessary as they would come up to or floor, deliver the notice verbally, or by note if they were out of their rooms. If I wanted to later call each participant and ensure they were apprised of the situation, that would be most appreciated.
I assured him I would do so and that we’d be ready, to a man, at 0600 the next day.
I whip up 10 Post-it™ notes and stick one on each member’s door.
“Leaving for the field. Check out 0530. Wheels up 0600. Bring all luggage. Road trip!”
To be continued…
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What's happening around town (Wed, Feb 26th - Tue, Mar 3rd)

Tulsa's event list.

Wednesday, Feb 26th

Thursday, Feb 27th

  • Caleb Fellenstein (Hard Rock Hotel & Casino Tulsa - Catoosa) Start Time: 4:00pm
  • Daniel Chesser (The Hunt Club - Tulsa)
  • The Dean DeMerritt Trio (Oklahoma Jazz Hall of Fame - Tulsa) Start Time: 8:00pm Dean DeMerritt with his Jazz trio at Duet! Purchase tickets here.
  • DJ Queen Jessen (Hard Rock Hotel & Casino Tulsa - Catoosa) Start Time: 5:00pm
  • DJ Whit (Hard Rock Hotel & Casino Tulsa - Catoosa) Start Time: 7:00pm
  • Dueling Pianos (Hyatt Regency Hotel - Tulsa)
  • Footloose (Broken Arrow Performing Arts Center - Broken Arrow) Day 1 of 2 Start Time: 7:30pm BAHS Drama presents "Footloose" Feb 27 - March 1! Tickets are on sale now. And the best part is you can buy tickets online at https://www.showtix4u.com/events/16313. Limited number of reserved seating available. Buy your tickets today! For more information call our box office at 918-259-5778
  • The Freshmen (Hard Rock Hotel & Casino Tulsa - Catoosa) Start Time: 7:00pm
  • 🎭 Howard Jones Acoustic Trio (The Vanguard - Tulsa) Start Time: 8:00pm
  • Play in the Fantasy Realm: Imaginary Friends (Oklahoma Center for the Humanities - Tulsa) Start Time: 7:00pm Play in the Fantasy Realm: Young Children's Relationships with Imaginary Companions Join us for an evening with Tracy Gleason, a developmental psychologist studying relationships, real and imagined, with a focus on young children's imaginary companions. Dr. Gleason will talk about the ways in which children interact with imaginary friends and…
  • 😂 Rob Little (Loony Bin - Tulsa) Thru Sat, Feb 29th
  • Running On Empty (Hard Rock Hotel & Casino Tulsa - Catoosa) Start Time: 7:00pm
  • Story Time (Gathering Place - Tulsa) Start Time: 4:00pm Fall in love with the magic found in children's books! Join us every Thursday at 4 p.m. and every Saturday at 9:30 a.m. in ONEOK Boathouse for Story Time from guest readers.
    Guest Reader Schedule Saturday, Jan. 25th - Gathering Place Education Team
    February Guest Readers: Saturday, February 1 - Gathering Place Education Team Thursday,…
  • TCC Music Department Concert (VanTrease PACE - Tulsa) Start Time: 7:00pm Tags: Concert Free Music Southeast Campus VanTrease PACE Share
  • 🎭 William Shakespeare's A Midsummer Night's Dream (Chapman Theatre - Tulsa) Day 1 of 2 Start Time: 8:00pm Purchase tickets online at utulsa.edu/tutheatre Adults: $15 Seniors Citizens (55+): $8 Students not from TU: $8 High School Students: 1 free ticket with school ID, otherwise $8 TU Faculty/Staff: $6 TU Students: Free opening night, otherwise $6

Friday, Feb 28th

  • 70s/80s Throwback Night (Dennis R Neill Equality Center - Tulsa) Start Time: 6:30pm Your favorite gay disco is back open. Its time to have a ball. We have so much to learn about our history and such an exciting way to interact with it at OKEQ's Throwback Night: 70s/80s Edition. Join us for this FREE, all ages event with specialty drinks and cocktails, curated music, and all sorts of historical documents from Oklahoma's LGBTQ+…
  • Aaron Lewis-Acoustic Songs & Stories (Brady Theater - Tulsa) Start Time: 8:00pm Aaron Lewis - Acoustic Songs & Stories 7pm Doors / 8pm Show On Sale Fri 11/1 10am
  • Andrew Harmon (Hard Rock Hotel & Casino Tulsa - Catoosa) Start Time: 5:30pm
  • Asphalt Cowboys (Hard Rock Hotel & Casino Tulsa - Catoosa) Start Time: 8:00pm
  • Brandon Clark (The Hunt Club - Tulsa)
  • DJ 2 Legit (Hard Rock Hotel & Casino Tulsa - Catoosa) Start Time: 6:30pm
  • DJ Demko (Hard Rock Hotel & Casino Tulsa - Catoosa) Start Time: 6:00pm
  • DJ Mib (Hard Rock Hotel & Casino Tulsa - Catoosa) Start Time: 7:00pm
  • Footloose (Broken Arrow Performing Arts Center - Broken Arrow) Day 2 of 2 Start Time: 7:30pm BAHS Drama presents "Footloose" Feb 27 - March 1! Tickets are on sale now. And the best part is you can buy tickets online at https://www.showtix4u.com/events/16313. Limited number of reserved seating available. Buy your tickets today! For more information call our box office at 918-259-5778
  • 🍴 Gilcrease After Hours: Memories & Inspiration (FREE Admission) (The Gilcrease Museum - Tulsa) Start Time: 7:00pm Join us for an evening of cocktails and culture in celebration of our exhibition MEMORIES & INSPIRATION: THE KERRY AND C. BETTY DAVIS COLLECTION OF AFRICAN AMERICAN ART. Admission is FREE! Schedule and details to come. This program is funded in part by Oklahoma Humanities (OH) and the National Endowment for the Humanities (NEH). Any views,…
  • 🎓 Jake Hertzog Trio (Oklahoma Jazz Hall of Fame - Tulsa) Start Time: 8:00pm Jake Hertzog is a critically acclaimed guitarist, composer and educator whose career to-date has spanned nine albums as bandleader across jazz, rock and classical new music styles. He has toured throughout the U.S., Europe, Latin America, the Middle East and India and performed and recorded with a diverse cadre of artists including Randy…
  • Long Live Vaporwave with BabyBlue (Bar 46 - Tulsa) Start Time: 9:30pm
  • Madama Butterfly (Tulsa Performing Art Center - Tulsa) Thru Sun, Mar 1st Giacomo Puccini’s beloved "Madama Butterfly" comes to Tulsa during the Tulsa Opera's 2019-2020 season.…
  • 🎓 Memory Gala 2020 (Cox Business Center - Tulsa) Start Time: 5:30pm Alzheimer’s Association Tulsa presents "Memory Gala" to celebrate the impact and opportunity this milestone presents with a night centered around the Alzheimer's Association's goal to prevent and effectively treat Alzheimer’s disease and other dementias by 2025.
  • Nightingale - EP Release Show (The Vanguard - Tulsa) Start Time: 7:30pm
  • 🏆 Oral Roberts vs. Incarnate Word (Mabee Center - Tulsa) Start Time: 3:00pm Oral Roberts Golden Eagles vs. Incarnate Word Cardinals First pitch is scheduled for 3:00 p.m. All tickets are buy one get one free. Tickets available online at MabeeCenter.com, over-the-phone at 918-495-6000, or in-person at the Mabee Center Ticket Office.
  • 😂 Rob Little (Loony Bin - Tulsa) 1 day left
  • Steller Ascent (The Shrine - Tulsa) Start Time: 8:00pm
  • Tanner Miller & The Contraband (The Colony - Tulsa) Start Time: 10:00pm
  • 🍴 Teacher Happy Hour (Philbrook Downtown - Tulsa) Start Time: 6:00pm Oklahoma teachers are invited to drop in for a happy hour before our Women Who Changed Art (And a BIG Reveal!) event (free for Members, ticket required). Come meet up with other area teachers, talk shop, or just relax and grab a drink. Enjoy food, a cash bar, art, the incomparable Philbrook gardens, and best of all, other teachers. FREE for…
  • 🍴 Vinyl Happy Hour (The Colony - Tulsa) Start Time: 4:00pm Bring your favorite vinyl to spin on our house sound system
  • Weekend All Stars (Hard Rock Hotel & Casino Tulsa - Catoosa) Start Time: 9:00pm
  • 🎭 William Shakespeare's A Midsummer Night's Dream (Chapman Theatre - Tulsa) Day 2 of 2 Start Time: 8:00pm Purchase tickets online at utulsa.edu/tutheatre Adults: $15 Seniors Citizens (55+): $8 Students not from TU: $8 High School Students: 1 free ticket with school ID, otherwise $8 TU Faculty/Staff: $6 TU Students: Free opening night, otherwise $6
  • 🎨 Women Who Changed Art (And a BIG Reveal!) (Philbrook Downtown - Tulsa) Start Time: 6:30pm Women have made major contributions to the history of art, and yet are rarely in the spotlight. Join Bridget Quinn (author of "Broad Strokes: 15 Women Who Made Art and Made History") and Philbrook curators as they discuss the significant impact of women artists throughout history and unveil new additions to Philbrook’s collection by women…

Saturday, Feb 29th

  • Madama Butterfly (Tulsa Performing Art Center - Tulsa) 1 day left Giacomo Puccini’s beloved "Madama Butterfly" comes to Tulsa during the Tulsa Opera's 2019-2020 season.…
  • 😂 Rob Little (Loony Bin - Tulsa) Last Day
  • Trolls LIVE! (BOK Center - Tulsa) Day 1 of 2 Start Time: 10:00am

Sunday, Mar 1st

  • 😂 Josh And Chuck After Dark (Loony Bin - Tulsa)
  • Madama Butterfly (Tulsa Performing Art Center - Tulsa) Last Day Giacomo Puccini’s beloved "Madama Butterfly" comes to Tulsa during the Tulsa Opera's 2019-2020 season.…
  • Trolls LIVE! (BOK Center - Tulsa) Day 2 of 2 Start Time: 10:00am

Monday, Mar 2nd

I was unable to find any published events for Mar 2nd.

Tuesday, Mar 3rd

See Also

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[Klaxon Overdrive Supernova] Part 20

19:16:23 // 04-JUN-2042
A loud slap jolted Dodge awake, and the left side of his face burned with a sudden throbbing. An intense stabbing joined the throbbing in an expanding cone of pain through his head. He blinked in confusion, and for a moment he didn’t remember where he was, or why he was lying on a hotel room floor with an angry stranger kneeling over him.
“Wake up.” Blair slapped him again, hard. “Where’s Joshua?”
Then it all came screaming back.
“Wha—?” Dodge grabbed his cheek and rolled away, struggling to regain his senses. He had seen Nick. Seen him.
He reached up and touched the enormous lump on the side of his head. His vision bubbled with pain. He had no clue what time it was, but the harsh daylight no longer leached past the drawn curtains. Still, the room remained stifling.
“He’s not here.” Her gun was in her hand. “What did you do with him?”
“Do with him?” Dodge winced as his voice grated his brain. His eyes locked on the gun. “He hit me.
She raised an eyebrow.
The dull metal generator lay near the door, its casing dented. Hopefully it wasn’t broken. Even more than the peace it provided, he wanted it to channel Nick again.
“There,” Dodge said, pointing at the generator. “With that.” He winced as he touched the lump again. It pulsated under his fingers.
“What did you say to him? You must have done something.”
“All I did was ask him how he was, then, bam.” Dodge didn’t feel it necessary to add he had been seeing his dead brother at the time.
He rose carefully and padded into the bathroom, holding his head still. The porcelain was cool under his hands as he steadied himself on the sink and examined his reflection. A lump rose from the right side of his head. A red, hand-shaped welt kissed the left. He sorted through the pile of towels on the floor and found a small wash cloth, waited a moment for the water to run cold, then soaked the cloth and touched it to his head. A spot of blood marked the ivory fabric. What if he had a concussion?
“Can you get me some ice?” Dodge said as he stepped back out into the room.
Blair was still gaping at the generator.
“He shouldn’t have become violent. He’s—” she caught herself “—he knows better. I told him to stay here and listen to you. He shouldn’t have left the room.” Dodge pressed the cloth against his head. Blair caught the movement and focused her fierce attention upon him once again. “Although a stillborn puppy would have done a better job watching him.”
“This is not my fault,” Dodge said as loudly as he could. But it was. He was supposed to have been watching Joshua, not playing with the Godwave.
Blair stood rigid, her eyes searching the room, as though Joshua could be spotted amongst the clutter like a misplaced set of keys. “Do you understand—” she squeezed her eyes shut “—what you’ve done? He could be anywhere.”
“He ambushed me. I didn’t do a damn thing.”
Exactly.” It came out as an accusation.
“You’ll find him,” Dodge said. He obviously wasn’t going to get sympathy from her. His head hurt too much to keep arguing and he wanted to see if the Godwave still worked. “He couldn’t have gotten far.”
“He shouldn’t have left the room, but he managed that pretty well on his own, didn’t he? Do you even know how long he’s been gone?”
It was only dented. It might still be able to make him feel better, clear away the pain.
“What’s the worst that could happen?”
“The worst that could happen? He could be killed.” Dodge cringed. “Or, he could run into one of the billions of people who know his face and think he’s dead and get taken to the ‘proper authorities.’ Or he could just disappear and we’ll never find him again.”
“Then you’d better find him.”
Me? No,” She jabbed a lean finger into his chest. “Us. You’re going to help me.” She moved to leave, obviously expecting him to follow. He remained rooted, cradling his swelling head.
“I’m not going out there. You said yourself that no one would find us here. There’s a hell of a lot better chance the Paradise Mind will find me if I go out in public. I assassinated Klaxon Overdrive, remember. Assassinated him. I’m more hated now than Oswald and Chapman and Franz and the Nazis put together. I’m not going out there. No way.” He plopped down on the bed and cradled his head. “I’m tired and my skull feels like a deflated balloon.”
“Fine.” Blair spun on the balls of her feet and was at the door in two steps.
That was too easy.
“Wait,” he called to her back. “Fine? That’s it? You’re just going to leave me here without a fight?”
“I don’t have time to argue with you. Every second I waste puts Joshua in greater danger.”
He let his arms drop to his lap. He had finally broken through to her, made her accept reason. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” She turned and gripped the doorknob. “But I wouldn’t answer the door if I were you. Although, come to think of it, the Burning Spear probably won’t bother to knock, so you can do as you please. Good luck, Mr. Dodgson.”
Dodge leapt up from the bed. “You wouldn’t.”
“You mean nothing to me. And if you’re not going to help—” she spun slowly to face him “—especially after I took the time to save your worthless life, then I might as well let Entropy have you.”
“If Entropy gets me, you’ll never get Joshua’s DNA back. You need me.”
“That’s a risk I’m willing to take.”
He grabbed his jacket, stalling, then pulled it on and shoved his hands in the pockets. They were empty, the cashcard Blair had given him gone.
“Shit.”
“What now?” Blair asked.
“Joshua took my cashcard.”
Blair’s hands balled into fists.
Leaving was the last thing he wanted to do, but he couldn’t stay here either. He had no choice.
“Fine, okay. I’m coming.” Dodge hesitated for another second, then followed Blair out and pulled the door shut behind them.
A modern champagne-colored Nissan was parked in front of the room, a small puddle of rainbow-slick water forming on the asphalt underneath. Beside it, the lumpy Suzuki looked like a museum exhibit.
Blair yanked the remote from her pocket and thumbed the starter, unlocking the doors and silently engaging the car’s fuel cell. She didn’t wait long enough for Dodge to close his door before thumbing the car into reverse and squeezing the accelerator. Dodge threw his hands out to brace himself just as she switched into drive, whipping the car into traffic. He supposed it was too much to hope she’d let the pilot drive instead of handling the controls herself.
“Where do we even start?” Dodge asked when he had strapped himself in. His head felt too large for his neck to support.
“If I knew when he left, I might be able to figure out how far away he could be. But since I don’t even know that, we’ll just have to search in an expanding perimeter. If he’s on foot, we should find him. If he got in a Skute …”
“Do you know what he’s wearing?” Dodge asked.
“Long sleeve black shirt, black pants and that black jacket.”
Great. Wearing all black with night approaching. Why couldn’t anything ever be simple?
“Did you arrange for us to get somewhere safe?”
Blair snorted. “I reserved seats on board a private plane for Joshua and myself. Then maybe into Europe or South America. You can keep the car.”
“The car?” Dodge had been hoping for something a little more concrete in the way of a plan, but under the circumstances he’d take what he could get. “Okay. Thanks.”
It seemed like everyone in the city was out walking, but none of them were Joshua, and they searched for an hour without any luck. With her patience exhausted, Blair directed the car back towards the lake.
“Where are we going now?” If she was going back to the Tunnel she could let him off right here.
She inhaled venomously, but her voice was cool. “He may have gone to the entertainment district. Sometimes he disappears, visits random clubs on his own and loses himself in the crowds. Says it’s his only chance to be anonymous.”
“If he wanted to be anonymous, he shouldn’t have become a superstar.”
Blair ignored him and turned onto Lakeshore, headed downtown.
“How does he not get mobbed when he’s out clubbing? Everyone knows who he is.”
“He usually gets some attention, but like I said before, he just tells them he’s one of the many Klaxon Overdrive impersonators, poorly sings a few lines of whatever song is currently popular, and people believe him.”
“People sure are gullible,” Dodge said.
“Oh yes,” Blair replied, not looking at him, “people will believe anything.”
Rush hour still locked the city streets in an oppressive grip, constricting traffic flow to a trickle. Getting into the city at this time of day was usually easier than getting out, but today, with the unending influx of people making their way to Klaxon’s memorial vigil at the Needle, the roads leading in were just as jammed. Even the pay lanes were congested. Agile electric scooters and motorcycles weaved in and out of the crawling automobiles. The sun was setting behind them, igniting the mirrored sides of bank towers and condominiums with a fiery scarlet glow, stark against the dark purple sky to the east. A red and silver train whisked by in the public transport lane, as if mocking the car-bound.
Alongside the eight-lane roadway, amidst abandoned cars, the lakeside boardwalk churned with pilgrims toting tents, backpacks and coolers to what looked to be shaping up as the most massive party ever. The crowd ran the gamut of socio-economic standings, of races, of religions, yet seemed to be mingling amicably. They had no idea what was really in store for them.
Out in the haze over the lake, vines of smoke twined from the island. Feed-branded drones skittered above the Needle’s twinkling remains like a swarm of hungry deer flies over a wet dog. This event had already become a bigger media circus than any war, natural disaster, or terrorist attack in recent memory. It was a historical earthquake, and Dodge was caught at the epicenter. He sunk down into his seat.
Entropy would do anything to find Klaxon. Their plan for building a devoted following of consumers depended on him. They had already blown up an entire building and the replactors in it. Killed Len. Almost killed him. Killing anyone else between them and Klaxon would be as easy as the decision to take penicillin to kill a bacterial infection. No wonder Blair was so tense. In fact, under the circumstances, her self-possession was remarkable.
Which explained why she treated him with such naked disdain: she was under incalculable pressure, fighting to stay ahead of the Burning Spear, to keep all of them safe, and he was complaining and freaking out and generally making things difficult, in it only for himself. When had he become so self-centered?
A long time ago, probably.
Dodge snuck a glance at her, her white knuckles on the steering wheel, pale cheeks rigid, eyes ablaze. She hadn’t given up. Wouldn’t give up. Dodge guessed she’d sooner die than admit defeat.
He had never met anyone like her, had never believed people like her actually existed. Her passion marked her as brilliantly as a spotlight.
“We’re almost there.” Blair said, as if sensing Dodge was about to make another smart-assed comment.
Lost in his thoughts, Dodge hadn’t noticed the traffic thin. They cut north on Bathurst and approached the entertainment district through the Olympic village. Up and down the street bots waved their glowing arms to signal available parking. Blair pulled the car into an automated multi-story lot just north of Front, and after paying the flat evening rate with a cashcard, they left the garage and stepped into the artificial exuberance of the entertainment district.
Even this early on a spring Thursday night, tourists, conventioneers, and professional partiers roamed the brightly lit walkways. A few years ago the city had closed Peter Street to traffic and covered it with a giant curved display extending all the way from Queen down to the Dome, bisecting the entertainment district. They called it the Walk.
Arterial streets branched off on each side, leading to the themed areas full of hotels, shops, and casinos: the Wild West, the Exotic Orient, the Mythical Past, Ancient Rome, the Decadent 80s.
Under the Walk it was always pleasant: blue sky and sunny or a dazzling sunset or the stars as witnessed from the surface of the moon. Anything except the brown soup that usually hung over the city. In the sunlight-starved winter months, a stroll under the Walk was nearly as good as a tropical vacation.
Dodge hung back as Blair scanned a line of vending machines along the parking garage wall, then strode over to a thin blue chrome box nestled between a pink Zam-Zam Cola machine and the bubbling Labatt’s dispensary. She made a choice from the touchscreen, tapped a cashcard, and bent over to retrieve her purchases. She walked back, handed Dodge one of the two packages and peeled the cellophane from hers. It was a disposable mobile, complete with fifty dollars of data.
Dodge held up the slender device, basically just a thin plastic screen so cheap it would fall apart just about the time the data ran out. “So you can check up on me?”
“So we can split up and search separately while remaining in contact. If you find him, call me,” Blair said.
She pointed her device at Dodge’s, transmitting her number to his mobile’s memory. Dodge accepted the transmission and did the same in return.
“You look west. I’ll look east,” she handed him a cashcard from a stack in her pocket. “Here’s a thousand dollars, more than enough to cover expenses. Just search the clubs, if he’s here, he’ll be in one of them.”
She held his gaze for a second, a second in which her face possessed no anger, no stolid resolve, no unwavering determination. A second where she allowed her vulnerability to show, before she turned and disappeared into the crowd.
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Room 1515: A search for an inception

Room 1515: The Search for an Inception.
Let’s get one thing straight: I knew exactly what I was doing when I came to this hotel. I’d heard through the rumor mill of a place like this for months now. Any writer or respectable artist lacking as much inspiration as me would be searching for a place like this like a lost social security card. Needless to say, I sought this place out to the best of my ability. I chased rumor after rumor, scrounging up old newspaper clippings, and investigating ‘disallowed’ texts from libraries left and right. I needed some sort of basis for my next story, something I could hopefully spin into a book.
I have been an artistic and mental dry well for months on end. So naturally when the moment came where I finally discovered my target location, I threw my belongings into a bag and hit the road. How could I pass up a place with only rumors and unverified documents identifying it as actually real, right? Precisely, I knew what I was doing when I came here. I knew the risks in both regards, if it wasn’t real and the terrifying possibility that it is. However, it’s clear I am not the only guest to this establishment it seems? No, this place is crawling with social outcasts (like myself), men in, just as you imagine cheesy detective attire, what appear to be ‘regulars’, and the honest to god vacationers. The problem with that last group is that I can’t even remotely begin to fathom what the appeal for this place is outside of experiencing a lovecraftian tale in reality. Maybe I am the only one, but the state of the unoccupied floor 15 left me disappointed, if not surprised.
I ordered my room in a very cautious and deliberate manner, that meaning that I intentionally chose an isolated floor from the rest of my fellow patrons. The hallway leading to my room was nothing short of below expectations. The walls were an awkward beige color with the occasional dark spots, and the walls smelled of some kind of mold. The carpeting was clearly done in a hurry, and showed signs of age of the years, with torn seams and definitely not up to standard patch jobs. To me, the state of this place was peculiar considering the divided rumors of the hotel itself. There is obviously no correct answer here, but the locals seem to be positively spot on two schools of thought. Some argue that this hotel has only been here for a few days, which would really be alarming for the immense history and overall aged appearance of just this hallway.
Another group would say that this place has been a scourge on this land for generations, and that the origin is shrouded in uncertainty, simply it has been here for as long as they can remember. No matter the origin, nothing could have prepared me for the state of the room and for the fact that it was breathtaking. The overwhelming contrast from the hallway immediately became apparent by manor solely of the door to 1515 itself. The handle was encrusted with a fine golden material that formed a shape of a lion's head on the center of the lock. When I took my first step into the room, my nostrils were invaded by cleaning products, which matched the well kept appearance of the room itself.
The bed was tucked properly and layered with decorative pillows and the sheets were made of fine quality material fit for a king. Speaking of being fit for a king, parts of the interior were littered with paintings that oozed medieval and renaissance era style. The bathroom was neatly compact, stuffed with products and a grand bathtub. The mirror of the bathroom spoke to me the most however, it was pieced together in a gorgeous and regal manor. An outline of bright silver and emerald withheld the mirror which was spacious enough to cover my whole body. It felt like I was almost looking at myself in HD, like somehow my tattered old jacket, painfully overgrown hair, and overall battered appearance wasn’t actually the subject of stares. In a way, it was almost as if someone had just put graphic shaders on reality; the light your pc on fire variety. So much as the presence of the mirror was almost haunting, as if it should be accompanied by a cathedral choir, my own reflection felt like a piercing gaze and a window into my soul.
I had no idea how this was possible, but I immediately documented the mirror in my journal as my first actual paranormal encounter. In the main room there was a standing table for a widescreen tv, several lamp shades, clothing chests, a miniature fridge, a large window with golden drapes, and the typical accommodating luxury items for a fancy hotel. However, I took notice of a desk, with a basket of assorted fruits and a hotel directory all addressed with my name attached to a note card.
“Jackson D. Merric.”
The letters of my name were the cheap fake-gold color you’d find at a cvs pharmacy ‘letters’ aisle, needless to say they were lifeless and not all as attractive as likely intended. The contents of the note card were a directory for the hotel, stating the hours for the bar, the pool, and the typical hotel fare. All of the text was black and white, clearly from a colorless printer, barring bright red letters accompanied by a yellow caution symbol stating that floor 17 is closed indefinitely. This was not a surprise to me, considering that the elevator had a clearly missing floor 17 button; with only a hole and the defining metallic scrapes of something torn out in a hurry. The note however meant little to me in this circumstance, or rather the contents of it meant little, because the fact that the letter was here at all was perplexing. I had only just checked into my room at the reception desk mere minutes prior, I did not have any prior reservations, so how did this entire assorted basket get here before my bags?
I knew there after that my room was just a microcosm of something much much deeper occurring within the hotel itself. I wanted to know more.
I spent my next few moments taking in the view from the hotel window, the view of the lake in the distance was admittedly gorgeous, and almost uncomfortably so. By all accounts, it really was breathtaking, beautiful trees and accompanied lucious fields teeming to the brim with wildlife, all over a setting sun. Yet, it was to me the uncanny valley equivalent of a scenic view, it felt off, like someone was just injecting that sunset straight into my mind. My moment of contemplation was interrupted by a single pound on my door. The Bellboy had finally arrived with my bags.
“Hey there!”
Nothing, he was dead silent, and his long shaggy hair kept his face from anything close to eye contact.
“Thank you! Hey, you don't have the time do you?”
I knew he wasn’t going to speak, I just wanted to see how far I could take this to learn as much as I could about the boy before me. His head finally glanced up at me for a moment, and I could partially make out the least human expression I have ever seen a person make. Suffice to say, he looked dead.
“The suns coming down you know? I just wanted to get the direct time, thanks for the basket by the way.”
He cautiously reached out his wrist to me, trembling, like he was learning how to stretch his arm for the first time. On his wrist stood an ancient looking wrist watch, which read exactly 12 pm... in the afternoon.
— I knew, without a shadow of a doubt what I was getting myself into coming here, but that didn’t exactly mean I knew where to start. Hell, initially I didn’t really know what to be looking for at all. Then, my next objective came to me by way of raw caffeine pretending to be a human. The girl before stood at what could I assume to be 5’2 with long brown hair, and slightly blonde highlights. She rocked back and forth as the elevator moved downwards, if peppiness as a concept was a person, this was her. Admittedly I was attempting to avoid making conversation, the standard fare for me usually, but when the girl noticed my journal conversation became a must for her.
“Is that made of leather?!”
“Yeah, I’ve had it for a long time, I use it to jot down my life and idea, basic stuff”
“Oh! Do you like writing too?”
“Actually yeah, I suppose so, it’s why I’m here honestly?”
“Seriously?! Dude are you kidding?”
“No I’m—
“That’s why I’m here too, this place is like a gold mine for everything that doesn’t belong to be seen by the public!”
I couldn’t believe I was having this conversation, honestly. Maybe it was just how little I planned to interact with other guests or how nonchalant and casual she seemed about this place being shrouded in incomprehensible rumors. We chatted for a moment, and she explained to me that she was headed to the library in the hotel, one I didn’t know they had.
“That isn’t in the directory right?”
“Uhm, yeah it is.” Her expression looked almost puzzled by me for a moment.
The elevator stopped on floor B1 and it revealed to me an open library, sprawling with shelves and all manner of books. How did I not know of this, and how did I never see that there were more floor options than just the main floors? The library was enormous, and straight out of some childhood imagination.
“What even are all these books? What is this?”
“Dude, are you new to this type of deal or something?”
“I’m sorry?”
“Is this the first time you’ve ever tried exploring this side of the world?”
“Pardon?”
She looked at me with one eyebrow raised and an almost disapproving smirk. She took a deep breath, gestured for me to grab a seat.
“Let’s get one thing straight, you really don’t have a clue what you’re in for huh?”
“I guess not.”
“Listen buddy, for your sake I’m gonna keep it simple. The world as you may possibly know it is filled with unspeakable horrors and tales from those who have witnessed them are outcast, and hidden from the world. A lot of the first hand accounts are buried by the government and those in power to erase any chance of the major populous ever becoming too aware of what is taking place just below the surface of our society. The written archives are stored all over the world, and this hotel? It happens to have a vast collection. From stories about park rangers discovering something unspeakable, ordinary people becoming wrapped up in something horrible, or drifters like you winding up in a place like this. What you’re seeing now is a place with only a fraction of that information withheld.”
It took me a moment to even comprehend what I had heard. I knew I shouldn’t be surprised, I spent days on end researching the Hotel Non Dormiunt. The content I discovered along the way brought me into a world I was not entirely prepared to witness. Rumors of the origins of this place, and would could have possibly led to the inception of this place. Right then and there, I knew what my next objective was, and what I wanted.
“What is this place?”
“I just told you, this is a collection of—“
“No, I mean what is the Hotel?”
“Not a clue. I’m just here for the knowledge, all of these books are free material for days, I’m gonna make so much money off of this stuff.”
Well, at least she was devoted to her goals, even if it was kinda theft?
I spent the next while of my time researching the library for any manner of content about the hotel itself. I chased after alphabetical order, passing by dates and novels of all kinds. Eventually I conceded defeat and asked the girl who was loading at least twenty books into a gym bag, for aid.
“Check the catalogues, that’s just documents, maybe you’ll find something there? Honestly, you probably shouldn’t waste your time with this, just get what you have and get out of here. That’s what I’m doing, peace!”
Paper after paper, I finally located a catalogue that stated “Hotel Non Dormiunt check in dates.” At the top of the page stood an incredibly uncomfortable date. “June 6th 1944: Check ins”. For awhile, I was not positive on the relevance of that date until I saw an annotation of the location “Normandy.” Wasn’t June 6th 1944 D-Day? The catalogue was covered in dates that made the hairs on my skin raise. Days like 9/11, November 22nd 1963, and so many more days in history were all marked on the catalogue. On those days, few people checked in, and there were few names of note. How could this even be possible, the hotel opened around these places on those dates.
How could it have moved all the way over the world, crossing continents? My mind raced with confusion. The hotel had accordingly been open even in times during the 1700s, but beyond that the catalogue has a clear tear where former dates once were. I fell back and slammed against the bookshelf behind me. I couldn’t believe what I was seeing. Beside the catalogue, I found a document that stated staff. Jackpot. I tried to transcribe as many as I could, but frankly the amount of staff members was somewhat astonishing to me, there was page after page with names.
Bellboy: Maxwell B.
Head Chef: Ian W
Janitor: Samuel M.
Service manager: Bryant (No last name identified)
Marketing team: Jacob M and Michael S. (What marketing?)
Garden keeper: Diana L.
Now there was a name very clearly expunged from the very top of the document, where I assume it would say “Manager”. I was left puzzled, if there were pages of staff, where the hell were they? How have I only encountered that Bellboy, Maxwell. I was also absolutely positive they did not have a garden, in fact after I gathered my information, I went back to the ground floor.
Hotel Non Dormiunt upon immediate judgment seems to have a very old school appeal. The carpet patterns are a sort of 1920s red and black checkered pattern not too much unlike a casino. I wandered around for close to an hour when I finally found it, a metallic gate like door marked with the name “Garden” marked above it. When I made my way into the garden, I observed the exterior of the hotel was very medieval based, with arching marble and stone gargoyles lining the square garden. The garden stood in a sizable square, with walls on all signs and only the sun way above , shining down into the quaint little space. At the very center of the garden stood a woman in a Victorian era dress, with a parasol over her shoulder.
She was beautiful. Her hair was a flowing red color, which contrasted well to her emerald colored eyes. Her skin was soft and youthful, she couldn’t have been a day over 20. Using context clues, I figured this was Diana. She looked composed, focused on the beaming sunlight above the garden awning. When she noticed my presence her demeanor changed, and a soft inviting smile formed on the edge of her lips. Just looking at her made a wave of nostalgia wash over me, it felt like I knew her so well already. She waved a hand to me and for a moment, I did nothing but keep staring. She gestured her hand towards the small tea table beside her, and looked at me with a questioning gaze. I was not even aware she was beckoning me until she tilted her head out of confusion over my gaping jaw.
“Do you mean me?”
“Absolutely.”
Her voice was heavenly, soft, and motherly with an overall angelic posh tone. The world seemed to pause just by standing next to her, she was completely otherworldly.
“Starstruck, are we?”
I tried to speak coherent words but they came out more like a collection of syllables. Before me she prepared us two glasses of tea and invited me to sit across from her.
“Well, why have you come to the garden today young one?”
“I...I don’t really know?”
Through a gentle giggle, she spoke: “Well, do not fret, perhaps you would rather speak about the garden. Does it look as wonderful as you may remember?”
“Pardon?”
She ignored me. “Well, to your right you will see a row of roses, pretty right? On the left, my tulips, and to the right of those: lilies by the fountain.”
“it’s all beautiful, how did you manage to grow all of this here?”
“Ages of work.”
“Speaking of that, I just wanted to ask, do you know about the hotel, or where it came from?”
She looked hurt, and clutched her chest in retort. “Over there you will see my yellow carnations, lovely, yes?”
“Certainly, but do you?”
“Do you really want an answer to that question?”
“Yes, I do.”
She crossed her hands over one another and let our air through her nose. Apart from her appearance, her face seemed to wrinkle in some manner of anxiety.
“Jackson, do not waste your time with this place. You are still so young, you have spent your life alone and wandering, this is not your destination.” I started to feel really uncomfortable, a bead of sweat ran down my cheek.
“You have spent your life searching for a direction after that day, do you remember it? When your soft weary head collapsed upon that pillow and your mind conjured a wonderful world for you to stay in.”
How could I forget. The day I lost everything in only a few hours. My family, my innocence. I have long since grown from it by now, but the stress of her knowledge made a dam of emotion inside my mind break for a moment. How could she possibly know all of this, what the hell is even happening?
“How do you—“
“We’ve met before, do you not recall my face in your dreams, our garden in the otherworld of your subconscious?”
Of course I knew her, how could I forget someone like this, I kicked myself for not recognizing her immediately. My mind imploded on itself for a moment, the weight of merely coming to this hotel was happening so fast and directly, it was like I was orchestrated to have even arrived here. I couldn’t even fathom the words to articulate my terror, I was paralyzed by fear. My mind froze and a voice inside me began to scream that I needed to leave this place as fast I possibly could. My fight or flight had been triggered and it was looking to be flight as my option of choice.
“I know this is a lot to take in at one moment Jackson, that’s why I just wanted to speak about the garden. I wanted to distract the hotel for a moment, so you could escape. He sees you now however, and it will be only time until you cannot leave, so if you desire to find your answer, go and get your truth before you lose the ability to see it.”
I hesitated for a moment, who was ‘he’, and why did it feel like the peaceful atmosphere turned to the feeling of eyes watching me. I wanted to open my mouth and ask so many questions but before I could even think of what I wanted to say next, she spoke again.
“Jackson, if you dare to know the truth, you need to properly enter the hotel. Make your way to floor 17, in room 1717 you will locate a pail, collect and return to your room. Floor 17 will not be simple to traverse child; you will need to avoid any and all children you see approach you in the dark. If at any point you begin to feel a migraine you will only have mere minutes to obtain the sought after pail. Do not speak to any guests you encounter, and for all that is pure and good in the world, if you hear a mans laughter, just jump out of a window. That will be a preferred outcome” She winced and held her chest once more, the wrinkles on her face seem to grow deeper and her lively glow faded.
“What do I do with the pail?”
“Fill it with water, and douse your mirror, you saw it, did you not?”
“The one in my room?”
“Yes, you must wet your mirror and the next step there after will be up to you, so go and get your answer.” Her hair seemed to lose it’s red color, and speckles of grey formed in patches on it. Her dress appeared tattered and stained, and the yellow carnations began to wilt.
“Hurry Jackson, if you waste time, you will lose your chance, they know of you know, and I cannot protect you as I once did in your mind.You must learn what this hotel is, or rather what this hotel is not.”
I sat up from the table and turned to the door. The state of the garden was now dilapidated and heartbreaking. I could feel a lump in my throat form, I wanted to quit, to grab Diana and never let go. Yet, I steeled my will and marched on through the door. As I walked back into the hallway, I could hear the door lock behind me.

The elevator was still missing the button to floor 17, So I decided on a better course of action. When I returned to my room, it was as I left it, this bothered me more than I care to admit. It felt like the whole room should have been torn up thrashed to pieces. I knew that there was only one way I was gonna get into floor 17, and it was the only way to get to a higher floor without an elevator or staircase (serious fire code violation by the way). I grabbed my backpack and threw it over my shoulder, knowing this could be it, I made sure to bring my journal. I threw open my window and stepped out until the sill. I’ve always been scared of heights, but this was a new kind of terror. I slipped, I would fall to my most certain to death and likely be impaled by the architecture towards the bottom. I grabbed onto the nearest gargoyle statue and cautiously lifted myself upon its head.
I reached up for the window sill of 1616 and took about ten minutes to pull myself up to it. As I sat up against the window, I peered inside and had to ask myself “What in the hell is happening in here?!”. I didn’t have time to think about that, however. I hoisted myself to the next gargoyle and noticed the temperature was simmering. It caused my hand to slip and I banged against the side of the window. “Shit, sorry.” I said to myself. Finally, I pulled myself atop the hot gargoyle and jumped up to grab the 1717 window sill. I peered down for a moment, admiring that I had actually managed to climb two stories.
I knew there was gonna be only way into the pitch black room before me, I mean it’s not like there is a handle on the exterior. I retrieved my metallic flashlight, and smashed the glass as hard as I could. It cracked a few bits, and shattered after a few more swings. The pitch black room before me was beginning to become more visible. I took one step in and the steaming air immediately hit me. The warmth of the room was stunning, I couldn't discover the source of the heat, but it was like a thick mist of heat. Immediately, I could hear stirring in the hallway, banging all around. This was about to get difficult.
I began searching the room with my flashlight as quickly as my eyes would allow. The pail was nowhere in sight when suddenly all of the banging halted for a moment. For some reason, I couldn't control my stomach and vomited nearly impulsively. I knew right then and there I wouldn’t have time to hesitate, I would need to find the pail and get out of floor 17. A child’s voice began to speak to me from behind the front door.
The voice was distorted and hoarse, it sounded like several different children talking all at once. “Can you show me how to get back to my mom?”
I realized something terrible when the door knob began to turn. I charged for the door and slammed my shoulder against it, beginning to scream out of panic. That only made things worse, it attracted more of whatever was about to open that door. I slammed the lock of the door and that only seemed to piss them off more. Now the children’s voices sounded like a symphony of questions.
“What are you doing here?”
I scrambled to find the pail, checking under the beds and then deciding on the bathroom. Low and behold, sitting in the bathtub was a shiny golden pail. I grabbed the pail and raced for the window, but as I got to the edge I noticed a major problem.
“Where are the gargoyles?” I screamed. There was no down that wouldn’t assure death.
The banging on the door began to halt for a moment again, and a scream rang out in the darkness. It sounded like another group of people had found their way into floor 17. The girl’s scream was horrible, and I could hear thrashing battering the walls outside. As terrible as it was, this was my chance. I couldn’t let her life go to waste. This is why floor 17 was closed. Whatever sort of nightmare hell spawn they have running here, I knew that it needed to be exposed. I needed to find out the truth and escape. Why was floor 17 this way, the rest of the hotel while concerning was withholding such nightmares on the middle of an obscure floor. My life as a boring and simple average author was feeling like a long way away now. Regardless, I had to complete my goal all of these other people are doomed if I can’t expose the truth.
All in one moment, the banging ceased and the whole floor went deathly silent. I sat with my ear against the door for thirty minutes, just listening intently, I could not hear so much as the shuffle of feet. I didn’t want to risk them returning. I know this is stupid, but I’d like to say, put yourself in my shoes here. The hallway was pitch black and reeked; some manner of decay invaded my nostrils. I turned to my left and saw rooms lining the hallway, all with a welcome sight at the end. The elevator, I could call it and escape to a different floor. Carefully I made my way to the door, when a guttural groan escaped from the mouth of something at the other end of the hall. The massive hulking beast had fleshy tendrils in a place where I assumed it’s arms would be. It’s face was solely teeth, a culmination of human jaws.
They clacked to themselves in anticipation. The legs on the beast were lopsided and not at all facing the way they were supposed to be. It was turned towards the wall and shaking grotesquely, unaware of my presence. I couldn't call the elevator, the slightest shift of movement was enough to make it growl in curiosity. I did not know if it could see, but it sure could hear.
At that moment, room 1739 opened. The man who emerged looked to be one of those detective types, and he was followed by a younger girl and two men. They moved quietly as I did, but they would not be so lucky. The young girl among them began to whimper and cry as quietly as she could, but the creature heard it as clear as day. The detective screamed to the three to run, and run they did, barreling down the hallway. I slammed the elevator call button with my fist and prayed to God it would come in time. I knew I wouldn’t have much of a choice, it was do or die.
“RUN MAN!!” One of the men screamed to me.
I just needed a few seconds, just a few seconds and I could escape. The beast grabbed hold of the girl's leg and whipped her to the floor. The men turned back to try and help her but the detective kept running. She screamed violently and begged for help, the men were immediately slammed to the side and they began to scream too. I was already frozen in terror, but when the beast began to talk like a child, I struggled to keep my stomach in line. The detective arrived next to me clamming for breath.
“Y-you called the damn elevator?”
I didn’t answer him, I could only watch in terror as the girl has her arm ripped from her body, scattering bones and flesh onto the floor. The men convulsed backwards where they were impaled straight through the skull, they fell limp instantly. The creature feasted upon all three with it’s mouths, cackling the entire time.
The world around me seemed to pause, and before I knew it, I was dragged into the elevator by the detective. He sent us down to floor 1. The entire elevator ride down, I did not speak to him, the only thing I could focus on was the poor girl and the laughter of a man echoing throughout the hall just as the detective pulled me. When we finally arrived at ground level, I looked at the man.
“You left them…”
“They knew the risks.” He said, before stepping out, adjusting his hat and making for the foyer.
I was still frozen in place, terrified of what I had just seen. It took me a moment to stumble out of the elevator and begin my walk back to the garden. I wanted to see Diana. But I could not find the door. I was in the spot I was sure it would be in, but it was absent. A man in stereotypical Hawaiian vacation attire was walking passed with an ice cooler trailing behind him.
“Hey buddy, whatcha starin’ at that wall for…wait don’t tell me, you’ve had too much to drink ohohoh, don’t worry buddy I get you.”
“Where is the garden?”
“Oh, do they have a garden here? It didn’t say anything about that on the brochure!”
What brochure? That was all I could focus on for a moment, before I just nodded to the man and made my way back to the elevator.
When I returned to 1515, all I could do was fall into my bed and weep for a moment. What sort of nightmare am I witnessing? I did not have a clue what I had gotten myself into. But I knew I was about to find out the answer, I rose from the bed and grasped the pail in my hands. I could still find out the truth, I could get people to leave here and help all of these people. I took to filling up the pail with water as commanded. But as the water began to fill the pail, my blood ran cold. There was a harrowing laughter throughout all of floor 15. The man's laughter was heavy and booming with every bellowing gasp for air. The pail filled up, and I knew what to do. My door flew open and the bellboy had a shotgun in his hands and a look of intent in his eyes that was absent earlier.
I slammed the bathroom door shut and locked it, but that didn't deter him from firing straight into the door. I wasted no time splashing the entire contents of the pail onto the mirror. The glass began to shake like the liquid that had just touched it. It began to create a swirling motion and the mirror then became alight with a golden glow. The bellboy had just finished busting the padlock off, and I did the only thing I could think to do and put my finger into the mirror. Instantly, my entire body was pulled into another realm.

When I opened my eyes, the world around me was devoid of color. I was at the foyer of the hotel once more, but everything was grey. There was no semblance of life anywhere to be seen. Frozen. They were all frozen, the people in the foyer were paused, human statues. The world around me did not have a temperature, I could not feel anything. Was I frozen too? No, I could move my legs. I could still move forward. The world was silent. I could not hear my footsteps, or my heartbeat. My soul was in a limbo. I could only reflect at this point.
There were so many guests. So many people in the hotel, were they all frozen too? Could they see? Have I failed them? These people came here for whatever reason and have likely seen their fair share of differing events, but could they be experiencing this as well? The silence was broken by clapping. It was slow and loud enough to fill the foyer with sound. Then, he emerged. A man in a blazer, styled slick back hair and a regal appearance. He stood on the above walk away, staring down at me while still clapping. I walked closer to the man, and I noticed a badge on his blazer.
Manager.
“Good to finally meet you, Jackson.”
I tried to speak, but no sound emerged from my lips, I was silent.
“Don’t bother, humans aren’t supposed to be in a realm like this, human mental understanding is far too limited to be able to comprehend the nature of a place like this”.
I couldn't tell how or when, but in a flash he was before me, looking me right in the eyes.
“I already know your questions, this meeting was prearranged the moment your soul was set free to the world by the man upstairs, when you were born I knew everything about how I wanted you to come to me.”
I did not feel alone in my thoughts, it was as if my brain was having it’s every idea taken from it.
The manager took a deep breath and sighed in disappointment.
“Alright, I set you to be here, so let’s just get to your questions. You’re asking in your head, what is this hotel? When I was born into this universal system, I observed you humans briefly for an age. You would all fail to grow, at every core of a person was a perception of the world. What one grew into, what they experienced, it shaped them into a person with a perception of how they viewed the world, what they thought was right and wrong. I became obsessed with humanities simple understanding, I wanted to see how much I could control by manipulating perception.” He pauses.
“Jackson, I have made many men kill each other by making entire civilizations believe what I wanted them to. Technically, humanistic understanding of history still isn’t wrong, wars were fought for reasons and everyone had their own pure distinctive motivations. Leaders led their subjects and followers to the next step of perception. But one day, I grew tired of watching humans fight. No, I wanted to see them at their most curious. In the olden days, this hotel was but an inn. I wanted to see how rumors would spread among you all, what you were all capable of doing. I wanted to see humans scared, I wanted to see them happy, I wanted to see humans. As simple and pathetic as you may all be to this universe, this rock in space has given birth to an almost precious attribute that humans share. It is as I said, your perception, how you all view the world you reside in. I desired to watch it all unfold.”
I could not even speak, I had nothing left to say, and it seems he already knew that.
“I knew from the beginning we would meet Jackson, I arranged your entire life so that we would finally encounter one another. Every guest here in this hotel? I arranged them all to be here, some for fun, some for terror, some for mystery. The hotel itself is molded by how one sees the world. You remember the library girl, yes? She is a dreamer not unlike yourself, so the hotel gave her a library. Your garden? You are the only one it was visible for. Diana? Just a tool for me. Every guest here is experiencing something completely different, sometimes groups share what they see. I do love a story with plenty of characters. Every action that led to our meeting today was just me guiding you along. Every single interaction was me leading your perception. You are asking yourself, Jackson, why? Why you? No particular reason, I simply wanted to see the scope of how one would react to this meeting.”
“But now, I must confess. I don’t have a plan for you now, Jackson. I know you desire to tell people to escape, so that their lives aren’t at risk. Jackson, nobody here is a risk. Everyone is meant to be here, and if they died here, it was chosen from birth. There is no one to save. But if it would make you comfortable, I would like to see how humans I have not tampered with react to your psychotic ramblings. It is ultimately up to you, if you so choose, I can take your tale; everything you want to say as it is and put it into books, I can spread the story anywhere from your internet to a local bar. It is your choice, I will not tamper with this decision. I apologize for the brevity of the events today, I was eager with anticipation to finally have this meeting be real. You may now make a decision.”
I thought for a moment, about everything I had just been told. My entire existence had been a preplanned tale for an elder god. You can probably guess how I answered his question.
“You may hate me, and I feel the emptiness inside you now, but truly Jackson, it has been a pleasure to meet you. I cannot wait to see if humans believe you, I will watch you carefully from now until the end of time. You are free.”
I awoke later, in the foyer. I cried in my hands, people began to comfort me and ask me why I was crying. I did not answer. I only made for the exit and left. The sun was shining, and it was peaceful. The world as I know did not feel like it agreed with my feelings, it likely did not. I could not know if this was a real feeling now. I took one look back at the Hotel Non Dormiunt and thought for one last time about the people in the hotel, what will they perceive? What sort of stories are being told? I will not search for an answer. I have found the inception, and I am checking out.

GUESTBOOK

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