In reality, I'm an Atheist that leans toward Buddhism and Taoism. I'm a six foot tall European Canadian male in fairly good shape at about 175 lbs. with good muscular tone, with short dark hair.
Everything I said in previous additions to this post still stand ;-)
Though I'm not a professional truck driver myself, and I am Canadian, and I will be playing American Truck Driver and Euro Truck Driver 2 tonight, to show my support for the transportation industry. I just hope that one day, they release content that includes Canada. Maybe a DLC that includes the great lakes region, or the incredible scenery between the Canadian and American border between Chatham and Calgary. Some of the most incredible scenery one can see from the roads in North America, especially framed by the majesty of the Rocky Mountains in the distance, juxtaposed against the forever flat prairies as you enter western Canada from the Dakotas and Montana. Memories that stick with you for your entire life and that's coming from a Canadian boy who's been to both coasts, right across the country from Toronto in either direction to get there.
I'll be driving under the email fav.inbox@gmail.com, but truthfully I am all emails at Shhhh! Digital Media, including the one that contains my name: brian.joseph.johns@shhhhdigital.com. So fav.inbox@gmail.com and brian.joseph.johns@shhhhdigital.com are the exact same person: me. I'm the writer of it all.
When work was scarce in my chosen field, there were many times that skilled labour connected to the trucking industry came to the rescue of my entire family. We ate, and my parents paid the mortgage many times because of the prosperity generated by that industry. Not to mention, there were more than a few times that working in that industry that opened doors for my career in computers and media, with a chance meeting here and there, including having met face to face some of the big financial decision makers in our country.
I'll always be grateful to that industry and the people who work it, as can be deemed by my short story from the universe of Tales Of The Sanctum: What Superstition Wields, which is in large part about a group of tight knit honourable (and some not so honourable) truckers who cross paths with the protagonists of the story. Its a story with a good message, not only that, but it can really tug at your heart strings when you've known people who sacrificed themselves and their life to save other lives in a moment's decision that took their own.
Besides, its incredible how centering that driving a truck can be. If driving is the highway of life, then truck driving is the Zen of the road.
However, I hope that you'll read this story, as it deals with a very misunderstood concept. The concept of fame, and all the different forms in which it can arrive at a person's doorstep. For some people, fame is simply another day at the office. For others, it can be a lifelong obsession. Both with fame, and quite often, with the famous.
Chapters
- Growing Pains (Finished Sunday June 1, 2025 9:00 PM EST )
- Preparation (Finished Monday June 2, 2025 9 AM EST)
- Not So Keen Family (Finished Wednesday June 4, 2025 4:30 AM EST)
- The Privileged Few (Finished Friday June 6, 2025 12:30 PM EST)
- Tour, Sound And Stage (Finished Tuesday June 10, 2025 5:00 PM EST)
- The Legendary Unknown (Started Saturday June 14, 2025 5:00 PM EST)
This content is produced by the artists indicated on the site, including myself, Brian Joseph Johns.
I, under no circumstance will trade, barter or otherwise swap my own identity for that of another person and I protect the same right for those who've contributed their artwork to the various projects under my management at Shhhh! Digital Media, my own company, no matter the colour symbolism involved. These rights are protected by law under the Charter Of Rights And Freedoms under section 7.
Also, FYI, I don't reverse or alter the polarity or context of my expression (sometimes referred to as "blove" by some people). I say what I mean and mean what I say, and generally only joke or am sarcastic with people I really know very well.
I, under no circumstance will trade, barter or otherwise swap my own identity for that of another person and I protect the same right for those who've contributed their artwork to the various projects under my management at Shhhh! Digital Media, my own company, no matter the colour symbolism involved. These rights are protected by law under the Charter Of Rights And Freedoms under section 7.
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Blah blah blah and all that. There, I'm done. ;-)
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Because Barris told me to put it here. If I didn't, he said he'd walk. Geez. Stardom really gets to some people's heads. Maybe I could kill him and bury his heart beneath the floor boards! Or I could encase him in behind a brick and mortar wall, for shaming my family name of Amantillado!
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World Veterans Federation
The World Veterans Federation is a humanitarian organisation, a charity and a peace activist movement. The WVF maintains its consultative status with the United Nations since 1951 and was conferred the title of “Peace Messenger” in 1987.
I'd like to point out that it was the incredible Gary Sinese Foundation that brought the issue of Veteran's rights to my attention. I've always had little respect for those who'd forget the great contribution made by those who've risked life and limb to defend those values that so many of us espouse. Perhaps the true measure of one's principles are by that for which they'd risk their life.
"None can speak more eloquently for peace than those who have fought in war."
Ralph Bunche, Nobel Peace Prize 1950
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The ALS Society Of BC
ALS (also known as Lou Gehrig's Disease) is a progressive neuromuscular disease in which nerve cells die and leave voluntary muscles paralyzed. The ALS society provides a variety of programs to combat this disease and help those with it to survive.
Muscular Dystrophy Canada
Muscular Dystrophy Canada’s mission is to enhance the lives of those affected by neuromuscular disorders by continually working to provide ongoing support and resources while relentlessly searching for a cure through well-funded research.
Humane Society International
The Humane Society protects the health, lives and rights of animals the world over, ensuring that they too have a voice in this world. We are interdependent upon the complex web of life this entire planet over for our mutual survival. This is a world wide charity.
The Global Foodbanking Network
Ensuring that people the world over have enough food day to day in order to survive and lead healthy lives. In this challenging day and age services like this are becoming more and more essential. This is a world wide charity.
The Edgar Allan Poe Museum
Because Barris told me to put it here. If I didn't, he said he'd walk. Geez. Stardom really gets to some people's heads. Maybe I could kill him and bury his heart beneath the floor boards! Or I could encase him in behind a brick and mortar wall, for shaming my family name of Amantillado!
In all truth, there's a good chance that thanks to the works of Edgar Allan Poe, Samuel Clemens (Mark Twain), William Shakespeare, Jane Austen, Jonathan Swift, Mary Shelley, Robert Louis Stevenson, Herbert George Wells, Jules Verne, Dr. Seuss, Stephen King, Clive Barker and Pierre Burton (for The Secret World Of Og and his ground breaking interview of Bruce Lee) that all of us are literate. Actually that goes back much farther to the Phoenecians and their first 22 character system of symbols. Literacy is important. Really it is. Literally. It allows us to approach our employer at the end of the week (with a big club) and ask: where my money?! Math important too. It help us count our thirteen fingers and toes.
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Wikipedia
The model for what may become the Encyclopedia Galactica, a complete reference and record of history, events and knowledge of humanity and its journey beyond. It is the encyclopedia of all that we know, what we surmise that we've known and will learn in the future. Yes, Wikipedia is a charitable organization of great importance. If you enjoy what I am doing here then please take the time to donate to Wikipedia. Surprisingly only 1% of Wikipedia's users donate yet the site serves pages to millions every day.
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Shhhh! Digital Media
Brian Joseph Johns
Warning: this material is intended for a mature audience. Reader discretion is advised.
Shhhh! Digital Media Presents
The Butterfly Dragon: The Two Butterflies - Epsisode 15: Fame
Growing Pains
Ebtissam had just finished her administrative work for the day when she paused to consider the next steps. This was the second week of her running the sewing department as an independent from West Meet East International, and in all irony, a week which would find Heylyn away on a trip south of the border.
Her responsibilities hadn't changed so much, more so having solified into a streamlined method of running Sew Wonderful as an independent for the first time. Valerie had hired an accountant to go over the books and begin a new ledger system to handle the new business, while Ebtissam assembled reports representing their needs as an independent, and the needs of their employees with regard to the integration of their inventory system into that of West Meet East. Both systems now operated on different books, and that required an extensive modification of West Meet East's integrated inventory management system. A task that was still ongoing at that point.
When Ebtissam had enough of working administration, she got up from her cozy office chair and stepped out into the sewing room. She then walked over to the pile of cardboard boxes and began collapsing them one at a time. She always found the dichotomy of working with intense concentration on administrative tasks, and the simplicity of doing something so simple as breaking down boxes as a means of effective stress management. Administrative seldom offered immediate gratification for the completion of a task, because most tasks often took days or even weeks. Therefore, doing the boxes was a quick relief. Easily done. Immediate gratification. Something that Braden had taught her, though he called it his hidden zen moment. When nothing was going well, he'd just tackle a whole pile of easy tasks that needed doing, and benefit from the sense of completion arrived at by as such.
Ebtissam placed the cardboard box in front of her, using a utility knife to cut the tape on either end, and then proceeded to fold it into a flat manageable slice which she placed atop of an already existing pile. She then moved to the next one, and started doing the same when Adelina addressed her from one of the sewing stations in the sewing room at West Meet East International.
"Why don't you let the intern do that? I mean, that's what she's here for, isn't it?" asked Adelina of Ebtissam.
Ebtissam held her response as she finished the last box for the stack.
"No. She's here to learn the craft of her trade. So she'll work sewing with the rest of you, while you teach her, and on Monday, when we start our cycle all over again, she'll do inventory and cleanup, and have the rest of next week from there on the machines as well," Ebtissam responded, organizing the stack and then dusting her hands off.
"Besides, its a nice break from management you know. I enjoy it very much sometimes," she said ever so humbly.
"Alright. I was only thinking about your interests and time management you know," Adelina was keen on advancing, and Ebtissam knew it.
Out of the three women vying for the job of Supervising Seamstress, Adelina was the most aggressive about her pursuit of the position. Whenever Ebtissam thought of the role, Adelina wanted never to be overlooked, and therefore spent most of her time being vocal about her tasks and pursuits. Asserting her claim as the best candidate for the job.
There were others too, and they often used sly means to compete against one another, just as on this occasion Dasha took advantage of the fact that Adelina most often liked to have the news playing in the background on the big screen television which faced their backs, so as not to distract them visually, but to keep them up to date aurally. Dasha grabbed the remote from one of the other desks and turned the televison up, to the channel Adelina most often watched, and the bold voice of the news anchor broke the rhythmic hum of the industrial sewing machines.
"...Israel says that HAMAS conducted the rocket attacks, timing them to coincide with the recent detonation of what officials have called a non-conventional warhead over the Red Sea, whose death toll when combined with the rocket attacks are estimated at nearly fifty people. Twenty-seven of them listed as missing since the detonation of the large yield device... ...If this progresses as it does, it could trigger a war uniting Muslims against the..." Gretel quickly grabbed the remote and hit the mute button, easing tensions in the workplace significantly.
Rather than smirking at either of her other two competitors for the job, she merely returned to her work, trying not to think about the rising tensions, but empathizing how difficult it must have been for Ebtissam, who was now a business partner with West Meet East International, to both run their sewing department service bureau Sew Wonderful, while the rest of the world was busy polarizing us to the ends of war.
Ebtissam looked off into the distance as she found the end of the twine with which she began to bundle the flattened empty boxes, apparently not having noticed the broadcast, or Gretel's bid in the interests of peace. She instead tied the boxes together into manageable stacks, and when she was finished, she grabbed one and stepped through the big doors into the shipping and receiving area.
"Well look who it is! What can I do ya for Ebtissam?" Braden smiled at her, as he spun in his chair, a nearby radio playing musical sets of his favourite alternative from 102.1 The Edge.
"I'm just taking my Friday easy. Its been a long week, especially adjusting to our new status as a partner business of West Meet East. And how are you today? Did you get a chance last night to try that shwarma place I recommended?" she asked him.
"Ordered a big meal for Aikiko, Gregory and I. Falafels, Taboulli, Shwarma, Dolmades, the whole deal and I have to tell you that it was awesome. So are you coming out with us tonight? Its the night of the big show!" Braden reminded her.
"I'm still up in the air on that. Its been a very busy week, but I might be able to swing it," Ebtissam smiled at him as he hit the button for the door.
One of the shipping doors suddenly came to life, opening as the Friday afternoon sunshine streamed in, revealing a machine operated recycling bin loader, into which she placed the box and pressed the button, crushing the box into the innards of the bin, along with all of the other paper and cardboard refuse they produced at West Meet East.
Ebtissam had been the one to suggest the purchase and to go private with the cardboard, selling it as a resource to other recyclers. The machine itself had cost about three thousand, while the refuse brought in an extra seven hundred a month for them. In half a year, the machine and bin had paid for themselves, and at the same time, given Valerie and Heylyn the idea that Ebtissam might be better at running the sewing department as its own business. That way, they could sell their sewing services to their competitors, hence making money with West Meet East's fashion, and their competitors' fashions too. However, they might have never realized this until Ebtissam took the initiative with the machine operated recycling bin.
"...and that was Billy Talent from 102 point 1 the Edge. You know, we might be seeing the beginning of World War three. Both NATO and the United Nations Security Council have called emergency meetings in the wake of last week's detonation of a non-conventional weapon. The first since 1945... Now tell me honestly, is any weapon conventional? I mean, what good do they do? I'm sorry to all our soldiers out there, but if someone attacks you with a bayonette, and someone else attacks you with a gun, does that make the bayonette conventional? Don't get us started here... anyway, we have a pair of tickets up for grabs to the Roger's Center for tonight's broadcast of the appearance of Toronto Fashion Designer Heylyn Yates on Jimmy Fallon's Evening edition. The tickets will allow you entry to the bar, and a night of drinks on the house and is certainly the golden prize for any of our homegrown fans of the Fashion superstar. Give a call at 1-800-THE-EDGE and we'll give the tickets to the third caller. Maybe we can stop world war three with a bit of Canadian partying...! And now here's the Beaches on The Edge, 102 point 1..." the DJ broke the through the sound of the recycling motor as Ebtissam recalled a time twenty four years earlier.
Ebtissam was in an airport, her hand in that of her mother. Her sister's hand in her's as the three of them pushed their way through a crowd, trying to make their way to one of the airline's check-in lines to find out what the delays were about, and why the crowd seemed so hostile towards them.
Up ahead, in the terminal, the crowd had split into two separate factions. One side were a group of mostly women, clad in the hijab headdress common of Muslim women, most of them wearing black, while some men stood defensively in front of them in white.
Another group on the other side of the same terminal was headed by those appearing to be Rabbis and their students, standing in front of a variety of families, presumably Jewish, they too standing protectively of their women and children as their front lines shouted slanderous things at the other side.
Her mother dragged her and her sister, and Ebtissam clung for dear life to both, fighting the urge to cease up and fall on the floor and cry. They were frightened, for they could not fathom why so many people could suddenly hate them so much.
Out of the corner of her eyes, she caught sight of an LED based news screen, where a tall building seemed to explode into fire as a jet collided with it. The image replayed over and over again, as warnings flashed along the bottom of the screen.
Ebtissam's mother pulled her daughters to safety admidst their Muslim brothers and sisters, keeping her children behind her. Ebtissam watched as the men from either side screamed at each other, carefully protecting their own as other travellers in the airport converged upon the two groups, threatening a massacre of them all.
When all was about to explode, Ebtissam caught sight of another family across the way. Their mother too hanging onto her two daughters, and her eyes met with the eldest, a girl not much older than her. She too held the hand of her sister, and in that moment, they became empathetic friends who'd never met, but had in that moment understood each other better than any of these people ever could.
When the fighting began, and some of the travellers in the airport had decided to take out their frustrations on the Muslims, their group backed into a corner and the men stood protectively, taking their beatings for crimes they did not commit. Many of them having dedicated themselves to bettering the world while not seeking the recognition for it. They never once cried out in pain. They only protected what mattered most to them, as much so as the Jewish side did the same.
Ebtissam's friend across the way cried for her, and the other girl too cried for her secret friend.
...
From a distance and unbeknownst to either girl, a photographer named Derek Keen had them both perfectly in frame, the Omans in front of the Muslim women and children, and the Rabbis in front of the Jewish women and children as they all screamed at each other. In the background between the two groups, the giant LED infoscreen played a live image of the first tower on fire, plumes of smoke blackening the New York skyline. The photographer pressed the shutter button, and captured one of the most iconic images in that time period. The very photograph that would become the defining moment in his career as a professional photographer.
When he'd finally previewed it on his laptop in a hotel room in Seattle two days later, where his flight had been held over as had all air traffic the entire world over, he couldn't believe his eyes. He went about making a few phone calls, first to his lawyer, to whom he sent a copy to ensure its protection. He then followed that call with one to Gratham, a professional media consultant, who specialized in the licensing of images to the various news and media giants, such as Reuters, Bloomberg and the Associated Press.
When Gratham saw the image, he knew it would be worth millions, and that many careers would be made on its basis. Entire industries would crop up on the success of the image's use, while others under the scrutiny of the sweeping changes to security around the world would fall.
"Dammit Gratham! I just want to get this out there! This is important! People need to see this. To step back a moment... the world is on the brink...!" Derek explained to Gratham, who cupped his hand over the phone as he flagged a couple of his colleagues over to his desk.
"You see this? This is going to put us on the map in a big way! This is it buddy. This is the big ticket! This is a once in a lifetime shot! This is a magazine cover that will make it into the history books!" Graham said to two of his peers at the same company, giving each of them a high five, as Derek continued pleading his morale case to Gratham's other hand.
On the other side of a country in mourning, workers at ground zero had just begun evaluating the safety of the wreckage while searching for the living and the dead.
...
For Oculo Mentis and Habus Macill, the disaster had been a windfall. The doors to their recently born ideology opened as people flooded into their membership, unknowing of what they had become a part. Soon thereafter, it would begin spreading faster than any other ideology in the history of humankind and perhaps the first biomagnetic collective that had surpassed the population of any one single country in the same year, and unbeknownst to the secretive protectors of innocence by way of the Temple of the Butterfly Dragon.
Those who didn't join Mentis were forced. Those who resisted were erased, cast off to a social pergatory or limbo for those who showed no allegiance to anyone but themselves. They were initially labeled as self-serving types or SSTs, and a means of profiling them emerged from within their ideology, much as had occurred many times in history before where the madness of superstition took over and the rationality of science took a back seat, much as Spinoza had predicted centuries earlier.
Mentis' members initially used the medical records of citizens to determine whether they were a candidate for being one of these SSTs. A judgement that was dependent upon their blood type, along with several other key features related to their physical qualities, not unlike those who used to believe that the intelligence of a person could be measured by the size of their cranium.
Secretly, more and more of these people were separated from the rest of society and trapped in what would amount to being community prisons. Trapped in their own living space and prevented from taking part in society, lest of course they joined Mentis' ranks, accepting Mentis as their saviour and denouncing the laws of society while embracing those of Mentis.
Derek much like Mentis, had recognized that point in history as being one of the most important junctions for humanity. Mentis capitalized on it. Gratham tried to get rich from it. Derek tried to his best to urge the world to take a step back and stop before it plunged into the abyss.
Those that didn't join Mentis, disappeared and every trace of their social and official record was slowly eradicated while they were digested by means of social cannabilism in their respective communities, one by one. Often, even online means of identification were eradicated and used to deny Mentis' victims of their own identity and online property, while others of Mentis' membership would wear it as their own, especially if it were beneficial to them, or if it altered their narrative to their benefit. This was often coordinated between their victims' phone provider, and online accounts whose companies were compromised by employees whose true allegiances were to Mentis.
As their victims's resources dwindled as a result of such eradication, the task became easier over time as they struggled with even modest bill payments and other utilities, which even further whittled away at their social footprint. Because members of Mentis were forbade from ever mentioning the erased, and because they enforced this policy on others outside of their ideology who defied them by way of stalking and harassment, the erased truly did become as so. Literally ceasing to exist as they one by one died. Poor and decrepit, the better aspects of their former presence now dispersed amongst the populace, who by that time had entirely removed their names from the record.
If such people had multiple emails and online accounts, then each of those accounts would be treated as if they belonged to a distinctly different person, rather than the one person they were erasing. This made it easier for them to transfer the credit for the efforts of the erased to those taking over that identity and history from them. Hence, taking away any means by which a person could prove themselves and their identity was often their first priority target.
Those who exposed the malice of Mentis were often often blamed for manifesting it. Mentis' forces would use a variety of means to give the public the impression that anyone revealing their secrets was actually the one responsible for their crimes. They'd quickly create circumstances to hang the rap for as many of their crimes as they could on such whistleblowers, quickly turning the public against them. When combined with their psyops campaign against their targets, it often led to their target becoming radicalized against the very public they were trying to protect, which sometimes ended in violence and tragedy as Geldon Dekes was scheduled to soon find out.
Mentis' membership grew rapidly, and it was from this straying from their original doctrine that caused Habus Macill to abandon the mind tyrant, and develop his own school in the No-Man's zone between North and South Korea, where once upon a time Warai Jeong-Min Tokama and her protector Braden, began their journey to the Butterfly. The reason for that choice of land had nothing to do with culture, as much so as it had to do with the fact that it was perhaps one of the riskiest places for anyone to be.
Eventually Braden liberated Warai from the school camp facility and fled into South Korea, where Warai was remanded into a child care facility eventually to be adopted by Heylyn Yates.
The world and the stories of its various peoples were interconnected in vast and complex ways, this particular branch of circumstances arisen all spawned from that moment near the same time when Derek had taken the photograph of his life and career.
...
Ebtissam remained the little girl in her daydream, and watched the other little girl behind the Rabbis across from her, and then without warning, she was back in West Meet East International. Braden playing an imaginary set of drums with a pair of empty pens he'd kept for the purpose, and it all made sense to her again.
"I'm just going to finish up with the cardboard so please leave the doors open. Besides, its a nice day, which begs the question, why didn't you go with Heylyn and Warai?" asked Ebtissam of Braden.
"You know, I really did want to go, but then Heylyn brought up that she wanted Kori to come with her, and for me to guard the fort. I am like a Gong Fu, Wing Chun kind of martial artist guy you know," he stood up, purposely mimicking questionable martial arts ability, looking like someone who'd watched far too many martial arts movies rather than a skilled martial artist.
He smiled at her and winked, and she laughed at him.
"Oh please... You definitely spent far too much of your childhood in front of the television..." they both laughed as she left for the next stack of boxes.
When she was gone, Braden hefted a five pound roll of shrink wrap into his hand, throwing it spinning wildly into the air and catching it from behind without even seeing it. He then threw it again into the air spinning, and kicked it, bouncing it off of his toe, then launched himself into a flying cartwheel, and caught the shrink wrap roll once again in one hand as Ebtissam arrived with the next stack of cardboard.
It was his secret moment of fame, though few knew this of him and of his skills in that regard, and of those who did, three of them were in already in a city south of the border as they prepared for their big night. The big show at the Big Apple.
"Well, sometimes its far better to love something you'd like to be, than to be something you're still trying to love," Braden winked at her.
"This is what you call a zen opportunity for growth Braden," Ebtissam took the next stack and piled it into the recycling machine and pressed the button.
"Certainly is. A quick and simple means of achieving the feeling of a sense completion. Any time I'm having a rough one, I just jump on those boxes. Get it all done, and dive right back into the fray. Great for those days when you have an on going project that's taking you days to finish," Braden
"If only the rest of life were that simple..." she said quietly to herself, subtly enjoying her quiet sense of completion.
Preparation
The limousine pulled up in front of the Rockefeller Center and stopped out front of the building, the back passenger door opening while the (Russian) driver got out and gave Heylyn his hand as he helped her out of the seating and onto the New York City sidewalk.
"Thank you," she said to him, turning instinctually to make sure that both Warai and Kori were also similarly attended to.
"Some of us are fighters. Some of us are lovers," he said to her in obvious reference to the war in Europe.
"Sometimes in life it pays to have one foot on each side," Heylyn told him, waiting for him to help Warai out of the limo.
"The paradox of the peaceful warrior. One who fights for peace," he nodded to her, carefully handing Warai's hand to her as he turned his attention to helping Kori out of the limo.
Warai's attention was literally everywhere all at once as she looked on at the wonder of New York city, amazed by the tall buildings that surrounded her, and yet unable to see the rest of the forest through the trees.
"I never thought I'd see this day! Thank you so much..." Kori addressed their driver.
"I'm Sergei. You two should know that I'll be parked out back for the night until you're done, in the shipping and receiving area just outside of catering. After all, one has to eat don't they?" asked Sergei as he twisted his curled mustachio into a perfect point.
"You've got a good point there..." Kori nodded to Sergei.
"Bye Sergei!" Warai waved to the tall man who'd helped her out of the back of the limo.
"He has a really... happy aura... and he had waffles for breakfast this morning and lives in a..." Warai began explaining to Kori and Heylyn what she'd picked up about the man simply by the touch of his hand when helping her out of the car.
"That's enough Warai. Remember what we said about keeping it secret and being discrete..." Heylyn reminded her what Jinn Hua had taught her.
"...it keeps a girl healthy, stealthy and neat!" Warai smiled upon remembering Jinn Hua's saying.
"Then why does Aikiko sometimes be very bold?" asked Warai, recalling that sometimes when someone had pushed her buttons enough, that she became very intimidating.
"Because she lived a very different life than you have so far. She had her trust and innocence taken from her. In a way that has taken her a very long time find again..." Heylyn explained to Warai.
"What is innocence?" asked Warai as they approached the front doors of the Rainbow Room entrance off 6th Avenue.
"...Warai... That's a question that's going to take some time to explain," Kori responded.
"That's a difficult one. Most people don't understand it until they lose it unfortunately. But when that happens, some of them also realize how much it needs protecting in others..." Heylyn explained to Warai and Kori as they one by one stepped through the door.
"But if you don't know what it is, then maybe it doesn't hurt when you lose it?" asked Warai of Heylyn as they emerged into the foyer and made their way over to the elevators.
"Its not like losing your favourite stuffed toy. Its more like losing your ability to trust others or the ability to trust yourself," Heylyn tried to explain it to Warai, but she just wasn't getting it.
"Look Warai! See?!" Kori pointed at the photos on the wall of the elevator as they entered through the doors.
A short time later, they were in the reception area of NBC Studios, where a man with a tablet computer leaned against the reception area desk speaking with the receptionist.
"...and so we tried the Sauteéd Salmon, which was absolutely impeccable. You should tell Murray to take you there..." his voice trailed off as Heylyn arrived at the desk.
"NBC. How may I help you?" the receptionist addressed Heylyn, not recognizing who she was.
"I'm one of Jimmy's guests tonight?" Heylyn responded, as the man with the tablet and clipboard turned to address her.
"You must be Heylyn right?" he asked her.
"Yes, I might be," Heylyn replied to him, putting a smile on his face.
"I'm René. The Production Assistant for the show. Its such a pleasure to meet you," he greeted Heylyn with a light shake of her hand.
"This is my assistant, Kori Jonglyu. She should be on your list, and this is my other assistant Warai," Heylyn introduced them both.
"Ohhhh so you brought a big one aaand a little one," René tweaked Warai's nose, though she kept a somewhat stern and yet curious face.
"This is your daughter? She's adorable! Would you like to get checked into your dressing room first, before we do the tour?" René asked her, looking politely to each of them in turn.
"You're really good with organizing things... aren't you?" Warai said to him, having read him simply by his having touched her nose.
"Oh my gosh... she's sooo sweet. Yes, I am. How on earth did you know that?" René asked Warai.
"!...Its a little game we play where we try to guess each others favourite things to do..." Heylyn jumped in, stepping in front of Warai for both of their protection.
"Yes... it helps to keep little girls healthy, stealthy and neat!" Kori added, trying desperately to remind Warai to be discrete.
"Well if you'll follow me, I'll show you to your dressing room and you can get all cleaned up and settled in. Its just down through this door into the backstage area of the studio and a right this way, and down this hall. Right in this alcove here is where we keep the catering, which is refreshed every half hour with more food and drink, as per your rider..." René explained to them.
"What's a rider?" asked Warai of Helyn and Kori.
"Its a special list that the guests here give to the production, containing all of the things they'd like to be present during their time on the show and backstage," Kori explained to Warai.
"What did you get?" asked Warai of Heylyn.
"Nothing for me really. I'm fine with my simple pleasures. Chai latté. Mineral water. Red bean cake and shrimp dumplings, which they had to order specially for me from a local restaurant who just happened to be related to one of my teachers from Fashion Design school and good friends of my family in GuangZhou..." Heylyn told Warai, then leaning in to Kori's ear and whispering:
"And some healthy treats for Warai after the show..." Heylyn told Kori.
Kori put her index finger to her lips and uttered the all too familiar: "shhhh!".
"Here we are. This is your dressing room. We put the first batch of your rider items here along with a complementary basket gift from the show, and the rest will be delivered to the catering table as needed in your marked area. There's a washroom complete with a sauna and whirlpool, and a day bed there if any of you need to take a nap. The television remote is there, and we also have an internal channel that hosts behind the scenes footage from previous shows. Speaking of which, you might be approached by a roving videographer who is constantly gathering new footage for the that show. He's very quick witted, so be forewarned. I'll return in about half an hour and we'll take you to meet the crew and show you around the studio. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have some organizing to do," René winked at Warai, and this time she blushed and laughed at him before he left.
"Day bed? This is practically a country unto itself!" Kori said, jumping up on the bed after removing her shoes, bouncing twice in the air and landing on her tush after which she lay down stretched out to cover nearly the entire surface, as Warai burst out in tears laughing.
"Take it easy you two. I can't take you anywhere, can I?" Heylyn smiled at them, she too feeling very excited by this overwhelming experience.
"Look! Kori! They have video games too!" Warai pointed at the cabinet beneath the large screen television, where four consoles here wired separately, each with their own input on the television.
"We'll play later Warai," Kori assured the little girl.
"Can I go swimming?" asked Warai as she checked the whirlpool and sauna in the bathroom.
"Do you want to look after that for her Kori? I have to go get some ice for the mineral water," Heylyn addressed her assistant firmly and professionally, fanning her face with her hand as she did.
"If it means I get to swim too, I'm all for it!" Kori said, opening their kit and finding their swimming gear from within.
"I'm just going to get that ice. Do you two need anything?" Heylyn asked them.
"No, I think we're alright with the sauna, whirlpool, your rider items and the pay television for now..." Kori said as she helped Warai into the restroom to get changed for their sauna and swim.
"Back in a moment," Heylyn said as she stepped out of her dressing room door.
She looked around for any sign of an ice machine and remembered having seen one just before the catering area, in the same alcove with the coffee and cold drinks. She began on her way down the hall in that direction when she noticed a large muscular man, his arm covered in body art not unlike that of Aikiko, though his was themed on a more American Gothic verbosity. The Grim Reaper present on his arm, as were other iconic figures of similar mythological horror. He walked in her direction, speaking on the phone with someone and not noticing her until the last moment, when he nearly collided with her, if not for her aura.
His bigger frame impacted with her aura, which easily threw him back nearly ten feet and towards a wall, leaving her unscathed while he lay propped up against the wall. He sat up, stunned and dazed, wondering what had just happened.
"I'm sooo sorry. Are you alright? I didn't see you," Heylyn went over to the man, who flipped his baseball cap around so that the duckbill was at the back.
He stood in front of her, towering over her almost as if he were ready to trade blows with her, when he suddenly stopped and looked at her in disbelief.
"No.... we're cool. No harm no foul..." he said to her, very quickly returning his baseball cap to its former position.
"He was a handsomely fit man, perhaps in his early thirties, looking very much like Vanilla Ice, though with a bit more vanity bulk and a higher density of tattoos.
"Do you exercise...?" he asked her, shocked that she'd so easily toppled him.
"A little bit. Apparently so do you?" Heylyn asked him, admiring the tone lines along the muscles on his arms.
"Yes... you could say that. I spend four hours a day working on strength training, and I've never had anyone bounce me off that easily in my life... let alone a little Chinese woman like yourself... Chinese right?" he asked her, still amazed by what had just happened, though Heylyn could tell that he was keeping something else from her. Something very specific to him and his situation.
"Yes. Chinese. From north of your border," she winked at him.
"I'm guessing that all that living in igloos hardens you up considerably?" he asked her jokingly.
"That and the dog sleds..." she joked.
"I bet..." he returned a smile.
"You know, its not so much how much you exercise, but how. I spend a lot of time working on my stabilizers, while my flexors are kind of a second priority. Can't use them if you can't stay on your feet now, can you? Maybe you should try walking in heels all day," Heylyn suggested to him.
He smiled at her uneasily, and laughed cautiously the same.
"Right. I might try that," he watched her as she left on her way to the ice machine, suddenly remembering that he'd left someone on the other end of the line.
He looked around for his phone and found it under a nearby table. He grabbed it and put it to his ear.
"You're never going to guess what just happened..." he said to the person on the other end.
"You're right honey, I'll never guess what just happened," she replied.
"Lorraine, I just bumped into a little Chinese lady a little more than half my height, and bounced off of her like a tennis ball off a brick wall. But that's not the weirdest thing. After that happened, its like the voices disappeared. All of it! All of the Mentis nonsense! Its like all gone! I haven't had this much peace for nearly a decade honey!" he explained to her.
"Then you have to use that to finish this! To let the world know what you know about this! This is a sign from the lord..." Lorraine pleaded with him.
"Its something more than that, honey. I can feel it. Its like... clarity. Like the weight of everything that ever happened that brought me to this very point, its all gone. All at once! I don't know if I can even remember what I have to speak about, because I want to live using my time to enjoy life, not harp about all the things about this Mentis fellow that is crushing our lives..." he assured her.
"Now you listen to me Geldon! You promised you were going to take this on full force! For the lord! For us! Don't you back out on me now!" Lorraine asserted herself to him.
"Honey. I'm going to do what's necessary and finish this. And then I want to take this chance I've been given and do something else with my time. Life's short honey," Geldon said to her.
"You have no idea, but the lord does and for all of us. Now get it done, and come home. I'll be looking forward to seeing you," Lorraine replied to him.
"So will I honey. See you soon. Watch for me on the show," Geldon said his goodbyes to Lorraine and made his way to his own dressing room.
...
Heylyn continued along the hall until she found the ice machine and a stack of buckets. She went to grab one and a video camera was suddenly and unexpectedly thrust into her face, which filled the full frame of its image with her immaculate complexion, luscious red lips and deeply piercing dark brown eyes.
"Why does this suddenly feel like a trip to a voyeuristic dentist?" she said without losing a beat, catching even the videographer off guard.
"Heylyn Yates everyone on NBC Insider Today Backstage," the videographer panned the camera back to his face, and then as he stood side by side with Heylyn, took a shot of them standing together.
"I've been warned about you," she said to him with a smile on her face.
"Ditto. Several times over. Here's the woman who requested that the bulk of her rider be given as food and dessert gifts to the Memorial Sloan Kettering Cancer Center for women, those being treated for Breast Cancer. How's that for a heart? Do you have plans to run for office in your home in Canada?" the videographer smiled as Heylyn took her hands and mimed a heart with her fingers and thumbs.
"No plans for politics yet, but I have some friends back home who already are. What about you?" Heylyn smiled at him.
"Me? I want to stay on this side of the camera, not that one. So what brings you here?" the videographer asked her.
"The ice machine," Heylyn replied honestly.
"That's a long trip for some ice. Is this for a hockey rink or something? I don't think its going to help you win back the Stanley Cup you know?" the videographer goaded her on Canada's own sport.
"I guess that's kind of like you losing the NBA back in 2019, isn't it?" she responded quickly, catching him off guard.
"Whoa! And a sense of humour to boot! We'll see what happens in this next hockey season. Do you have anything you'd like to say to NBC Insiders? Maybe some martial arts stuff? She's a master of multiple martial arts by the way. Here's a lady that didn't waste too much of her time..." the videographer asked of her.
"Just one step at a time. In the words of my Sifus, Senseis and Sebomnims and maybe even Joe Rogan, do something that takes you forward, and improves you in some small way each and every day, no matter how humble it is," Heylyn said to the camera.
"...and then go out and kick butt! Right?" the videographer asked her.
"Absolutely... most often, one's own, and out of bed in the morning... We might look a bit different, but we fight with that alarm every single day just like anyone else," Heylyn added as the videographer switched the camera off and addressed her without an audience.
"That was really good. Thank you so much for being a sport. Its sometimes a bit shocking for some of the guests. I guess in this lifestyle, we're all conditioned to be a certain way and to handle things with a very firm set of borders. This industry creates a lot of divas, men and women both, though its no fault of their own. Its just the nature of the business and how some of us get hardened by our own fans. Thank you for handling it so well. You're a real star you know," the videographer spoke to Heylyn very much a different person than he'd been a moment earlier when the camera was rolling.
"I'm just glad to be a part of this. I know that in doing your job, you need to wear your protective armour. We all do. Yours is your on camera character, while mine comes in many different forms. More than you'll ever know," Heylyn spoke to him more cryptically than he was aware.
"Ain't that the truth. We'll send you a copy of this in about two weeks. Some of our guests, especially those in fashion like yourself, like these moments on video, and often share them during parties and such. They make for a laugh or two. Look, you break a leg out there tonight," he said to her and disappeared down the hall to find his next victim.
...
Monique stepped out of the shower and began drying herself with her favourite fluffy white towel. She leaned over and dried the back of her head, and then wrapped her long platinum streaked hair in a towel and fastened it in place.
She leaned out of the bathroom door and yelled down the hallway of the condo:
"Aikiko? Could you put the water on for some Rooibos?" she asked her roommate.
"I just boiled it like a two minutes ago. Its still hot," Aikiko responded as she too relaxed in front of the television watching for any sign of the upcoming show that would be on later that same night.
Monique finished applying cream to her face and then made her way down the hall and to the kitchen and kettle.
"Would you like one?" she asked Aikiko.
"Like what?" Aikiko asked.
"If it has hot water in it, you name it," Monique replied as she poured the water into her cup, the Rooibos tinting the water red.
"How about one of those light wine coolers?" Aikiko asked.
"That too," Monique pulled a cup from the cupboard and grabbed some ice from the ice maker on the fridge and poured Aikiko's cooler, bringing it to her thereafter before returning to the kitchen and opening her laptop.
"Come on! They're doing a bit on the news about the broadcast at the bar in the Rogers Center... I just saw a stock clip of Heylyn from last year..." Aikiko urged her room mate.
"Just gotta check my email..." Monique went through her inbox, reading messages one by one, stopping when she arrived at a professionally written letter, that included lots of legalese.
"Aikiko?" Monique said, sounding very perturbed.
"Yes?" asked Aikiko.
"Could you come here for a moment?" Monique asked.
"We're going to miss it..." Aikiko got up from her seat and made her way over to Heylyn.
"What is it?" Aikiko asked her.
"Read this... and tell me I'm not seeing things..." Monique requested of her other best friend.
"O.K. If that's not clickbait... I don't know what is..." Aikiko turned the laptop in her direction and began reading the email.
She stopped when she'd finished reading it, and then read it again, focusing on the last part of the message:
We would like to negotiate a contract with the two of you, starting at two million minus the finder's fee for the service bureau that arranged for this deal on our behalf. Assuming that you remain top models in your niche industry, you'd continue receiving a million each a year under contract for up to five years, at which point we'd renegotiate your contracts.
Please reply to us at your earliest convenience after having had your legal department examine this offer and the included contract. Of course, this would require that you terminate your contract with West Meet East International to join our team as our flagship models.
We look forward to hearing from you,
MT. Turneman Agency
Los Angeles, California
The room remained silent as they realized the enormity of what they'd just read.
"I've dreamt of this day, every day of my life since I was a little girl..." Monique admitted to Aikiko.
"Me too. A little bit differently though. In my dream, I was fighting ninjas in front of camera as the star of my own movie. Kind of like Sailor Moon..." Aikiko admitted to Monique, causing her to laugh and easing some of the tension she felt that had arisen as a result of the message.
"You realize that this would change everything. We'd be working with different people in a different environment with different attitudes..." Monique explained.
"Different condos... a car or two each..." Aikiko added.
"Money to invest..." Monique thought aloud.
"That too. I don't ever want to be without a safety net in life again..." Aikiko told Monique, some elements of her past still fresh on her mind.
"Well, its not like we can't afford those things now... but this kind of change never presented itself before... How would she take it?" Monique looked to the screen where Heylyn was talking to an interviewer from earlier in the day at JFK Airport after her flight from Toronto:
"...I just hope everyone tuning in tonight has a great time and its really an honour to be representing Toronto... and Ontario... and Canada on the show. It wouldn't have been possible without my team back home... that's you West Meet East!" Heylyn spoke to the camera, and for a moment, both Monique and Aikiko thought she was right there talking directly to them.
"Also appearing on tonight's show alongside Heylyn Yates is the host of the controversial web show Conspiracy Hour: Geldon Dekes, famed Photographer Derek Keen, and musical act Ghengis Lord. Keep in mind that it is Friday the 13th. To make sure Heylyn's luck stays on the right track, we'll be giving away these Good Luck Charms to the first hundred attending tonight's broadcast of the show at the Roger's Center Bar. This is Jan Lee reporting for CityTV," the reported finished her story as Monique clicked the remote to power the television off.
"I think I'll take one of those coolers now..." Monique said, drinking back her Rooibos as quickly as she could.
After she'd done, she deposited her cup in the dishwasher and poured herself a cooler.
Not So Keen Family
Delia Keen had for just as long as had Derek, built her career as a freelance journalist, working regularly for the big three new media conglamerates: Reuters, Bloomberg and the Associated Press. As a matter of fact, being from a large family herself, she had been the first daughter (of six) out of the house and pursuing a career from the starting gate or her life.
In her first year she'd managed to land seven first rate stories for each of those major media outlets, and had solidified her career amongst her peers, and yet, that was not enough for this success hungry woman from a large family of six sisters and five brothers. She wanted to be example that the rest of her siblings were be forced to match in terms of her accomplishment, and not long after having been the first in the family to break the hundred thousand a year income level, she got married to an equally successful Editor-in-Chief.
She had a big wedding, and both of her parents attended, and for that moment in her life and for another year onward, she would be the apple in her parents' eyes, much to the chagrin of her ten other siblings, for in a family so large, rivalry was the norm of life. Each of them competing viciously for their parents' attention, while slicing and dicing their siblings for their successes as much so as their failures. There was no happy medium for any member of the family who succeeded. They would find themselves gossipped about. Ridiculed from afar. Slandered or being accused of leeching from other family members who assumed themselves to be the source of the family's talent.
Success amongst the family had become bad for the health and emotional well being of those who achieved it, and this was a fact that Edward Clifford, Delia's husband eventually figured out. She'd never be happy, nor would her own siblings ever let her be, so long as she was a success, for they were still viciously competing with each other for their parents' attention. Two days after their first year marriage anniversary, Edward filed for divorce from Delia. He knew that if they'd started a family, that her own children would eventually become targets of the same thing from other bitter family members, as critical of their successes as they were of their failures and that was not a healthy environment within which children could thrive and grow.
Edward however, became close friends with Derek, and whenever they were in town at the same time, they'd get together for the bottom nine at Chelsea Piers Golf Course. Derek by that point had not yet taken the defining photograph of his career, but in the interests of his health and happiness, he often heeded Edward's advice and kept news of his career from the rest of his siblings. They would eventually go on to keep track of him in other ways, but in the interim until he'd taken that career defining photo, it bought him a lot of much needed peace. He wouldn't be reunited with his siblings until a year later, when one of them would die as a result of coronary disease.
He kept himself curt and discrete at the funeral, only discussing matters of his career with Delia, who by that time had calmed down considerably and taken a step back in life to focus on what really mattered. Their siblings still mostly resented them, and there was little talk or discussion between them, during the funeral and afterwards, at the wake. A few drinks in and one of Derek's brothers was ready to fight him, his jealous rage finally having surfaced.
Derek faced him head on, and dared not back down, despite neither of them being the kind of people who'd ever fought. To him it was more about principle, and the vitriol driving his brother to such behaviour was more so his own than anyone else's. It was not Derek's responsibility how his siblings took their mutual bitterness towards each other. They were holding his success against him on the grounds of how they felt about themselves more so than anything to do with him, but their vitriol would eventually find its way to him, and become harmful to his life as well.
Before he left, his father pulled him aside and apologized for how their family had unfolded, letting both him and Delia know that it was not their fault. He told them (away from the rest of the family) that he was very proud of them and that the reason for that was because they knew it for themselves without seeking his or their mother's approval. They weren't trying to prove anything. They were merely living their lives to the fullest.
A few months later and Delia was married again, and in a partnership that would last for the rest of her life, even raising three very happy children together with her new husband. Derek however, would remain as free as a bird, eventually becoming the common-law partner of Edward's sister, (another journalist) Susan. Edward would die a year later when the first jet impacted tower one. Only thirty-two minutes later, Derek would take his career defining photograph, which he dedicated to Edward's memory.
When the photograph had found its way to the front covers of the biggest new media magazines, namely Time Magazine. National Geographic and a one off special reissue of Life Magazine, a little more than a year after it had ceased print, his photographs could be found in every household in America.
Fame arrived very quickly from that point and he had become one of the most in demand photographers of all time. His news photography portfolio, which had previously been worth perhaps a hundred and fifty grand, was now valued at over six million dollars from licensing alone. That one photograph had changed everything for him, and yet it was the only photograph in his portfolio that he refused to accept any more money than ten percent of what his airline ticket had cost him that same day that he took it. The lives lost on that day were beyond any price, and so that photograph became the least valued in terms of licensing fees in his portfolio. His fortune came from how much the attention of that photograph had boosted the licensing value of his entire portfolio. He could have retired at that point and simply lived on the licensing fees, but he went on to similarly capture many more iconic shots after the turn of the millennium, finally retiring in 2023, just after the pandemic.
His siblings had continued their vitriol from afar, as had other family members too, who had become jealous of his success, but he stayed clear of them and focused on the ones who'd overcome the worst of their emotional and character flaws of that form, while those who couldn't change simply went on remaining bitter. Their social disease sometimes reaching as far as his life, at which point he and his common-law partner would simply sell their condo and leave, moving somewhere else until the vitriol found them once again, repeating the process and so on.
His and his common-law partner's emotional health was worth it, and they seldom ever regretted having to live life in such a way. The family and friends who'd assumed that the best of Derek and his common-law wife had come from them, went on being bitter, many of them simply not dealing with their own issues, but rather taking it out on them. A family though, Derek knew that at some point, they'd realize that the issue was with them, and perhaps when they were ready to deal with that, that they'd eventually come around.
The offending family members would claim that they'd been responsible for Derek's career, for his skills as a photographer and one or two of them had even claimed to be the real photog of his career defining photo and that he'd leeched it all from them. That he and Delia had been ungrateful to them, though whenever they attempted to communicate with them, they would find themselves punished for expressing anything other than animosity.
No matter how many other people backed them, the professionals in the industry knew the real truth, and they rarely if ever gave them the time of day, for they too had seen it all from other similar situations involving the arrival of fame. There was something about it that drove some people to selfish bitterness towards those who achieved it, while others of a more happy and centered being would find nothing but joy for the persons who'd arrived at its front door and often even shared in it in some way. Most issues that argued against it for some, were most often rooted in the people expressing such vitriol rather than those who'd achieved it. The learning curve however, belonged to both sides of the fence. The pain felt by the resented, and the animosity expressed by the resenter.
One day in early March of 2025, Derek while snuggling with Susan on the sofa, received a phone call from the casting of the Evening Show with Jimmy Fallon, over at NBC. They wanted him to appear on their episode of Friday June 13, a couple months from that time. He eventually agreed and became enthusiastic about it when hearing that Fashion Designer Heylyn Yates would be their so called A-list guest on the show. He'd heard from other photographers who'd shot at her shows in Toronto that she was a pretty awesome lady and a down to earth host, and so he agreed to be a guest on the show, under the condition that the producers procured for him seven tickets, which would be for Delia, her family and hers' and Derek's parents (now in their mid-eighties) to attend.
One week before the arrival of their show, Derek spent the entire day searching his belongings for the one thing that he'd need the most: the stub of the airline ticket from the day he'd taken that photo. He'd had it sealed in plastic and turned into a keychain ornament, which he'd kept in the top drawer of his wardrobe.
"What are you looking for honey?" asked Susan.
'The show's in a week and I can't find my good luck charm," he said to her.
"I thought that you said that you grabbed it from the top drawer when we left Jersey last year," she said to him.
"No... I thought you grabbed it," he said to her, realizing that they'd left it at the last condo that they'd sold.
He quickly got on the phone with their real estate agent and asked for the number of the new owners of their last condo. He then called them and spoke with the wife of the new owner, who ex0plained that she didn't recall seeing any airline ticket or keychain ornaments when they moved in. However, an hour later, when the man who actually purchased the condo got home, he explained that he found it and left it at work in the top drawer of his desk at a currency trading firm.
When Derek asked if he could pick it up from the man, he stated that he'd be out of town on that week and that he'd have to come the following week to get it from him. Derek agreed to the man's terms, realizing that he'd be without his good luck charm on Friday June 13, 2025. The very evening of the show.
...
René had just taken Derek for the tour and dropped him off at the catering station, where he and Susan (almost literally) bumped into Heylyn, her bucket of ice in hand. As they stopped for a quick drink at the catering table, Heylyn had stepped over to grab a few wedges of lime for her mineral water when Derek finally spoke up.
"Heylyn, right?" Derek held out his hand to her.
"I'm sorry, I don't recognize you..." Heylyn placed the ice bucket down on the catering table beside the cups.
"Derek Keen. Freelance photographer. This is my common-law partner Susan," Derek introduced them to Heylyn.
"I'm was a writer and copy editor for Sports Illustrated. Retired last year in November. Its a pleasure to meet you Heylyn," Susan greeted her, a very casually dressed woman in denim, but very naturally pretty despite wearing no makeup at all.
"The Time Magazine cover from October 2001, that was yours?" confirmed Heylyn.
"That's the one that put me on the map, though I retired last year as well. Still making good residuals for the licensing on the remainder of my portfolio though, I donated all the proceeds from that image on the cover of Time to a fund for the families of the first responders and for Muslim women and children who were victims of violence from around the same time," Derek explained to her.
"He didn't just take the photo and then take the money and run..." Susan explained to Heylyn.
"I never assumed as much..." Heylyn smiled as she poured herself a mineral water.
"Well, you'd be surprised how many people made that assumption. I guess that's part of the reason why I'm here tonight. Its to clear up that entire misimpression," Derek explained to Heylyn.
"From the sounds of it, there's nothing to explain. You brought something to the attention of the world when maybe things might have gotten much worse without your photo, and the fact that you didn't exploit the fallen for a cash grab," Heylyn stirred her mineral water and took a sip.
"Well, you know how it can be..." Derek replied.
"I do. But you can't let people pidgeon hole into becoming what they're trying to make of you, when the problem is clearly theirs. You just keep going and try to do the right thing," Heylyn explained to them.
"Do you have a guy named Trey working for you?" asked Derek.
"I certainly do. He runs our studios. The photoshoots anyway. You know him?" asked Heylyn.
"I sure do. I went to photography school with him. Just upstate here. I was a few years ahead of him, but I certainly remember him. When it comes to portrait and abstract, he was the best damned photographer in the school, seniors included. He landed a couple of photos that are still on the walls in that school you know. In my business we were a pretty tight knit bunch, so we keep track of each other. Next time I'm up there in Toronto, I'll drop by if you'll have me," Derek offered.
"You're more than welcome any time you'd like. So did you two get the tour of the studio yet?" Heylyn asked them.
"Just got back. René gave a few of us the run down, Susan, Geldon and I. The tall muscular fellow with the tats?" asked Derek.
"I know him. I ran into him already," Heylyn smiled at the irony of her own statement.
"He runs an extremely popular conspiracy web series. New hour long epsidode every Thursday. Different topic every week. Part of a tight mystery community there on YouTube. He's got something big planned for tonight. Just a head's up to you in case you scare easily. I mean, it is Friday 13th you know. I've even got a whole pack of family coming tonight to make sure nothing happens," Derek reminded her.
"Thanks for the heads up. I guess I'll see you later during sound check?" Heylyn reminded him.
"Oh yeah. Right. I almost forgot. See you then," Derek took Susan's hand and they headed for their dressing room to catch a short nap together.
"Nice meeting you Heylyn," Susan waved to Heylyn as they disappeared around the corner.
"Now, lets check up on my swimming room mates..." Heylyn grabbed her mineral water and the ice bucket and continued for the dressing room.
The Privileged Few
The press room in the Toronto Police Services building on Bay Street and College Street was packed, as reporters sat waiting for the proceedings to get under way.
A couple of plain clothed officers stood with their backs to the podium, going over details of their press conference before one of them turned around and took the center stage podium and began speaking into the mic.
"Uhhhh. Thank you ladies and gentlemen of the press. We're glad to have you with us today. We'd just ask that you keep your questions until the end of this press conference, at which point we'll answer one question picked by all of you present. Alright?" the plain clothed officer addressed the audience, and then turned to check with his fellow officers.
"Oh. Uhhhh. I'm Detective Convers, and this is Detective Farnham. We were the senior Detective working this case since it broke last week. Also, it should be noted that Digital Forensic specialist Poonya Somboon played a key role in tracking and apprehending the perp in this case. We'll go over details... just give us a second here. I'll give you over to Detective Farnham. Ed?" Detective Convers handed over the podium to Detective Farnham, who faced the audience as he began the conference.
"At eleven o'clock this morning. A number of partipating units from 52 division arrived at the residence of our suspect at 374 George Street, where officers served an arrest warrant for one Jarret Dekes for crimes associated with the credit card extraction devices, a number of which had been found illegally installed on digital parking meters through the downtown core. Though our forensic investigation is ongoing, we have evidence that indicates that at least three hundred cards were ripped by Mr. Dekes' installed devices, and that there may be as many as a thousand victims already. Jarret Dekes has been charged with Unauthorized use of a computer. Fraud over five thousand. Theft over five thousand. Possession of Fraudulent Credit Card data. Sale of Fraudulent Credit Card data and Theft of services with the intent to commit fraud. He is currently in Police custody and awaiting a bail hearing. We received reports early last week that a number of devices had been found on parking meters, and we were able to locate a number of them still operating, though we had to wait until our forensic specialist was able to decrypt the hash key that Mr. Dekes had used to lock the devices. We used that same key to confirm at least one hundred and sixty such unique installtions of hardware in parking meters throughout the downtown core. I can answer three questions, but Detective Convers will answer your big question after. Go head..." Detective Farnham pointed to Jan Lee.
"Was the stolen data sold online?" asked Jan.
"As that aspect of the investigation is ongoing, I can't really comment on that. The data was being evaluated for distribution on a number of different markets but lets just leave it at that for now. The man in the red tie..." Detective Farnham pointed to reporter Dick Cruthers.
"This Jarret Dekes wouldn't happen to be of relation to Calvin Dekes, would he Detective?" asked Mr. Cruthers.
"Jarret is the younger brother of Calvin Dekes, who is deceased. Calvin Dekes was assassinated as a high profile witness having committed armed robbery of a bank on Front Street in 2021. There is no indication that Calvin or Jarret ever operated together in any capacity other than being siblings..." Detective Farnham was quick to point out.
"Jarret is therefore related to Geldon Dekes then, yes?" asked Mr. Cruthers.
"That would be correct, but I'd like to point out that Geldon Dekes nor Calvin Dekes are in any way connected with this case involving Jarret. Calvin at one time was host of a conspiracy podcast, his older brother Geldon having followed in Calvin's footsteps, though producing his own hour long video version conspiracy show, which is demographically speaking, one of the highest rated web shows of all time," Detective Farnham was once again quick to point out.
A refined elderly lady clicked the mute button on the remote and the television went silent, as Detective Farnham continued his press conference.
"Once again you've embarrassed this family, Jarret!" Eleanor Emily Dekes spoke firmly to her son on the other end of the phone as she stood beside a plastic covered overstuffed chair worth an estimated two million dollars.
"My father says that the world is ruled by those who take risks," Jarret said from inside of the holding cell of the Toronto Police Services building.
"Calculated risks Jarret. Not foolhardy risks, that drag our family name through the gutter," Mrs. Dekes scolded him.
"Just a minute mother..." Jarret cupped his hand over the phone receiver as another inmate pushed his shoulder.
"I need that phone man. Get the f#ck off of it now or Imma beat you with it," a muscular man with a pick stuck in his hair pushed Jarret against the wall.
A short moment later, and another much larger man grabbed the man with the pick in his hair, lifting him clear off of the floor and pinning him against the wall. He reached up and grabbed the pick from the man's hair, and held its steel teeth against his throat.
"I'm Mr. Jarret's business associate. Any dealings you have with him go through me first. Awe... look. Your pick bites..." he held the man against the wall and then swiped with the pick against his throat, gouging his throat deeply, but drawing little if any blood.
He then put the pick back in the man's hair and released him. He slid down the wall and fell to the floor. He then got up and ran over to the corner where others adorned in similar gang colours stuck together for protection.
"You see what 'im did to me? Lets f#ck 'im up!" the pick man urged his brothers.
"Get away from us... you're going to bring us trouble..." their most senior replied, already knowing who Jarret was and how he was protected.
The Pick man tried to hid amidst their numbers, but he was pushed out by his own brothers and into the open, where he was further pushed by others until he shored up the proof of his weakness. He paced a bit, terrified of what he had to do, but they'd never leave him alone if he didn't.
He charged at the man who'd held him up against the wall and tried to throw a punch at him. The man simply caught his fist mid flight, and slammed him down into the floor with his other hand, instantly knocking him out.
He lay there unmoving, but having at least earned his respect back, nobody bothered him again.
"Are you alright Jarret?" asked the big man who'd come to his aid.
"Fine," Jarret responded, reaching into his shirt pocket and pulling forth four fifty dollar bills.
He planted them in the man's hand, but the man handed them back to him.
"Its alright. I'm already on payroll. Just don't make any trouble," he advised Jarret.
Jarret nodded and took his hand from the phone receiver.
"Are you alright?" Eleanor Dekes asked her son.
"Yeah. I'm fine. Someone else wanted to use the phone. My phone. But I'm alright," Jarret assured his mother.
"Good. You know how much it took to fix Calvin's situation. We'd do anything for family, but we will not reward foolhardiness. Especially from our youngest son, who has had every chance to learn from his older brothers' mistakes! Your lawyer will be there soon. Just follow his instructions and we should have you out before dinner time tonight. You won't serve any time, but you might be forced to testify against the real perpetrator, including tellin the jury what a bad influence he was upon you," Eleanor Dekes had already figured out most of their alibi, and was working with Jarret's father, and their family lawyer to tie up all the loose ends.
...
Geldon answered the phone as he lay in bed for an afternoon snooze.
"Hi mom. What is it?" Geldon said as he checked the screen on his phone.
"Your younger brother was led astray again..." Eleanor Dekes told her oldest.
"Mom, he has to learn to be responsible for himself! For his own actions! Calvin did, and he paid a price for it..." Geldon explained to him other.
"But at least we still have him," Eleanor said to Geldon.
"But at what price? We can't see him in public. We can't talk to him unless its specially arranged. He tangled with gun runners, and now he's in hiding for the rest of his life..." Geldon pointed out.
"That's why I'm calling you. Your father and I are going to have to pull some strings to get Jarret off the hook this time, and as you know, that will turn some heads and draw some ill attention towards us. Attention at a time when scrutiny is the policy of everyone towards any family with old money..." Eleanor explained to her eldest son.
"Why can't they just be like me and earn an honest living? Why is it that every time I'm getting ahead, that I've got to stick my neck out because my two brothers are too foolish to realize the harm they're doing to this family?" Geldon pleaded with his mother.
"The risk takers are the life blood of this family! The greater the risk, the greater the reward. We don't simply fall into line by everyone else's rules you know! I may not agree with what Jarret did, but I agree that he took the risk. If he'd not been caught, the rewards would have been great and nobody would have known any better..." Eleanor confronted Geldon over the issue.
"But that's foolish and not to mention its wrong! I take risks every day by doing the kind of show I do," Geldon told his mother.
"Your merit to this family is that there isn't a better ice cellar than you in the family. When it gets too warm, we can always rely on you to cool things down for us, Geldon..." Eleanor explained his worth to the family.
"Is that all I am to you? Just someone who can throw a little ice around when the going gets hot? You can't even congratulate me for being selected for the Jimmy Fallon show. You haven't even told me how proud you are of me. That I did it without ripping someone off. That I did it with a fair and honest shake. And now you want me to use that to cool things down a bit for you and for Jarret!" Geldon accused his mother.
"Just for this episode. Something scathing, and certainly with some truth to it. Enough to scare him. Enough so he feels it when your web episode airs. Use some of your time on the show to speak of this as well. It will do us all good," Eleanor ordered her son.
"I was going to use that time and audience to expose something far more sinister, that needs our attention! I was going to do it to help the world! To help Lorraine!" Geldon told his mother.
"You're wasting your time with that girl. She'll betray you. Its a wonder she hasn't asked you for money yet. Everyone who knows us, always eventually does..." Eleanor reminded him.
"If you have a son that leads an honest life and has done well doing so, what makes you think that he'd be with a woman that would take advantage in the way you're claiming? I've been with her for three years already, mom, and she's never asked me for a cent..." Geldon lied to protect her.
The truth was the he'd covered her missed rent twice already, paying for it out of his own pocket so as not to get family involved. He knew that if he'd asked for the money, that his family would have scoured her background, looking for anything and everything about her, for they did not allow any outsider to have influence over their children or kin.
Geldon had spared Lorraine by covering her rent himself. She had proven herself to be a socially conscious person, donating her time to a worthy cause as a fund raiser, in the employ of the lord, despite Geldon himself not really being devout when it came to matters of spirituality or religion. In his own naivety, he simply saw that what she was doing with her spare time far surpassed that of most people. She seemed to be able to look past his lack of belief and he rightfully so should be able to look past her beliefs.
Geldon was agnostic himself, but he respected her regard for a good cause. He'd regarded her as being selfless simply because she seemed to spend more of her effort in the service of others than even for herself.
His mother's protective nature, though warranted in many cases, was simply inapplicable when it came to Lorraine. And so Geldon sheltered Lorraine from the inquiries of his family.
"Alright mom. Just this one last time. If Jarret messes up again. He's on his own. No more ice box from me," Geldon said to her firmly.
"You've done this family a great service, but don't expect a cent from me!" she said to him, which invetibly meant that she'd be sending him some money and a life line soon despite the fact that he didn't need it anymore.
"He'd achieved his success and on his own terms. Through honesty and perseverance and a good use of his charismatic nature to entertain, for he was Geldon Dekes: Host of Web Of Conspiracy.
By that time, she'd hung up on him and he pocketed his phone and sat up in his bed.
Back home, Jarret's fame rose and his name became known to most households in Toronto, but for a much different set of circumstances for which most would have been proud. Geldon on the other hand, had become the obsession of many, given his family's unique repute, and his own tenure as a host of the web's most popular conspiracy show.
Detective Farnham had become famous for having busted such a ring before the weekend, and for that night, his name was amongst the most popular on the search engines in Toronto.
As for Geldon, Calvin and Jarret. Fame in their family came from two three sides at once. Each of the sons having achieved three different kinds of fame.
Geldon was however, about to experience the little known fourth kind.
"Alright. I'll get this evening's short clip uploaded, and see if I can't put together something for later to cool things down..." Geldon loaded the short video he'd edited earlier and then uploaded it to his channel, Web Of Conspiracy.
He then got himself ready for the sound check and pre-show preparations.
Tour, Sound, And Stage
Heylyn sat on the bed watching Warai and Kori play Just Dance on the dressing room's included Nintendo Switch. Heylyn laughed at their dancing antics, though it was a pretty close game between the two. What Kori lacked in the natural technical intuition that Warai seemed to possess, she made up for with enthusiam, especially when it came to the music of Cyndi Lauper: Girls Just Want To Have Fun (filmed in New York city, in Lower Manhattan).
When Warai seemed to have difficulty keeping up with Kori, Heylyn suggested Katy Perry's Firework, followed by Taylor Swift's Shake It Off. and she found that spark within her keep going, even when it seemed she'd run out of steam. Just as Warai had finished, there came a knock upon the door to the dressing room.
Heylyn got up and opened the door to find René standing there with his clipboard.
"Heylyn? I hope I'm not disturbing you but we're going to do your tour, and sound check is mandatory. We'll be going over the little things that you need to know so you're not caught off guard when your stage call comes," René explained to Heylyn.
"Can I bring my assistants with me?" asked Heylyn.
"Sure... I think they'd be quite helpful in this situation..." René said tactfully as Warai overheard them.
"Alright Warai. We're tied right now, but I expect that when we get back, that we're going to continue this little bout of ours..." Kori said to Warai, but her words fell upon deaf ears as Warai had already donned her shoes and was out the door with Heylyn.
"Hey! Like wait for me!" Kori said, searching high and low for her shoes in a panic.
...
René lead the way as they walked through the door at the other end of the hall from the first catering table and into the studio area.
"So that's the door back to your dressing room. Once you get through that door, that's where things will start to get busy..." René paused in his tour.
"How are you René?" a man waved from across the studio waved.
"Oh, hi Scott. Great to see you! In town for a show?" asked René of the man across the studio.
"We're in town... doing some writing. We'll letcha know when we have something new..." the man replied.
"That's Brad from Linkin Park. They're working on some new tracks..." René explained to Heylyn.
"Heavy is the crown, I guess," Heylyn responded, knowing of the band very well.
"But in the end, it doesn't really matter..." Kori added to their tribute to the band.
"What is a linking park?" asked Warai, now very confused.
"They're a music band, Warai," Heylyn explained to Warai.
"Do they Just Dance?" asked Warai.
"We're working on it... its a licensing issue..." Brad responded from across the studio, having heard the little girl.
"What's a licensing issue?" asked Warai.
"It just means that their music might take a bit to find its way into Just Dance..." Heylyn explained quickly to Warai.
"Licensing is a big part of life on the big show..." René explained to Warai.
"Why? What is licensing?" Warai pressed her confusion.
"Remember when we went to Wasaga beach to visit Wendy and Bryce and you made that great big sand castle Warai?" asked Heylyn.
"That was a big castle! Everyone liked it!" Warai was all smiles at that point.
"Well, imagine if everyone made money from that castle except you. You spent all that time building it, and they took all those photos of it, and they sold them and made lots of money from it, but your piggy bank... well it didn't get anything. How would you feel?" asked Heylyn of Warai.
"that's not fair! Is it?" asked Warai.
"No. It isn't fair. If you create art, and other people make money from it, then so should you. At least as much money as they do, but it doesn't always work out that way. Artists are often taken advantage of, because many of them don't invest in the time to be aware of these aspects of their art... Good art benefits from good business practices," Heylyn explained to Warai.
"Then how do you make money?" asked Warai, piecing together that Heylyn's designs were also art.
"I went to school, where we learned how to protect those aspects of our creations. A lot of artists don't learn the value of their work, or learn how to value their work. Its the most valuable work you do, and if it is, then you have to treat it that way," Heylyn explained.
"But what makes it valuable?" asked Warai.
"Curiosity... Public Interest... Demand... and sometimes when you've touched someone else's soul... love? You have to pay attention, because it takes experience. Sometimes a lot of it. Sometimes though it finds you early on. Sometimes you have to really work for it," Heylyn touched her nose on her last word.
"And when and if you do things the best that you can... and you surround yourself with people who are just as in love with their dreams as you are... you end up here," René winked at Warai.
"Heylyn, right? I'm James," Jimmy Fallon emerged from the set in his casual clothes, a warm coffee still in hand.
"Oh! So pleased to meet you!" Heylyn smiled at James, perhaps even blushing a bit.
"Oh, don't gush all over me. I have like ten of your suits in my closet that are approaching the end of their warranty... I've worn them so often... How are you? You brought some advisors I see?" Jimmy ruffled Warai's hair.
"Yes, and their advice has wrought me well thus far," Heylyn smiled at Jimmy.
"Good. Well we're always hiring, though we're kind of like the rides at Coney Island Park. We have certain height requirements for our staff..." Jimmy winked at Kori, gesturing towards Warai.
"I heard that!" Warai frowned with a friendly smile.
...
The bass player adjusted the strings on his bass as he readied himself for sound check. He had a tech for this task, though he seldom relied upon him, for he was Ghenghis. Ghenghis Lord. He had standards for himself and his band.
He tightened the bridge first and then the keys on the machine head. He used his earphones to tune the bass via intonation and then placed the instrument by his side as they waited for their sound check roll call.
"So that's the Chinese National we're after?" Ghenghis eyed her, running his fingers through his dreadlocks and thinking little of her.
"One and the same. Don't underestimate her. That's what we've been told by the big man himself..." the drummer, a tightened the skin on her snare.
"She don't look like much to me..." Ghenghis smirked at her.
"You've been warned. We're after the girl. The little one. They're in her dressing room by the time we're on. We've got it covered. She'll never see it comin'" the drummer for Ghenghis tested her skin, adjusting the snare, giving it slightly more smash.
"They didn't see Ghenghis Khan coming. They won't see Ghenghis Lord either..." the bassist slapped out a quick line with his fretless bass.
...
"Look, I'm not getting much from the vocal monitor..." the Vee Tek of Ghenghis Lord tapped his headset.
"Alright. Let's try this... a quick four bar one six two five if you could?" the sound man requested of the band.
"We can't quite do that, but we'll do some Refraction..." Vee Tek winked at the guitar player, who nodded to the keyboardist.
"Alright... you guys leavin' us out again?!!! Count us in Belle Kicker," Ghenghis Lord cursed at his front men as he urged his drummer to count them in.
...
"That was really loud!" Warai spoke, her voice elevated substantially as a result of the previously loud music.
"Heylyn? These are our musical guests tonight. They're a band from lower Manhattan called Ghenghis Lord..." René explained to Heylyn.
"Pleased to meet ya, the bass player, a large muscular Caribbean fellow held up his fist to Heylyn, who looked at him unsure of what he intended, so she took up a martial arts defensive stance.
"You're serious?" Ghenghis Lord said to her, towering over her substantially.
The drummer, who was a tightly compact and very well toned Irish woman, with a long head of dreadlocks, stepped out from behind her drums and tapped fists with the bass player.
"That's all was meant..." the bass player looked to Heylyn, who'd returned to a casual stance.
"I get the idea, but I still feel kind of protective if you know what I mean..." Heylyn responded, referring to the band's name.
"The Great wall of America? The Great wall of China? We're gonna break through all that..." the bass player assured her.
"Ahem. This is one of the the guys who started the band, and the guy from whom the name comes..." René explained to Heylyn.
"It was his street name back in the day..." the drummer told Heylyn.
"It stuck, so you can call me Ghenghis," Ghenghis told her.
"Well... pleased to meet you. You have a very uptempo and aggressive sound... I can definitely see a lot of room for fashion in it," Heylyn tried to extend a peace offering.
"There's only one fashion around here. That's mine," Ghenghis said to her with a very serious look on his face.
"Leave the lady alone. You take that street name crap way too serious sometimes you know?!|" the singer stepped over from the sidelines with the guitarist.
"This is the other half of a band divided. Vee Tek is the singer, while Grinder is the guitarist," René introduced the rest of the band.
"Don't forget Belle Kicker none either..." Ghenghis added, introducing the drummer.
"Vee Tek? Kind of catchy. Has a hint of technology. I'm Heylyn. Heylyn Yates," Heylyn introduced herself to Vee Tek.
"Well, my parents named me Vance, in all honesty. I was a bit of an A/V geek in school, so I was always setting up the microphones for assemblies, and my school mates gave me the handle Vee Tek. Not quite as musical as Heylyn though. Sounds a bit like a mystical version of the name Helen?" Vee Tek offered his hand politely.
"Ass kisser..." Ghenghis spat at Vee Tek.
"I think that's what my father was thinking when he gave me my North American name, but he wanted something special," Heylyn blushed at Vance.
"You know the difference between bank bonds and bass players?" asked Vee Tek of Heylyn.
"No. Tell me?" she smiled at him.
"Bank bonds increase in value with time, eventually maturing and making money..." Vee Tek told Heylyn, who burst out laughing.
Heylyn laughed some more along with Kori, René and James.
"Yeah it's a good one. I heard it from a legendary drummer that used to gig in Toronto, up in your neck of the woods," Vee Tek explained to Heylyn.
"What's a bank bond?" asked Warai.
"Sorry, but you don't meet the height requirements to be asking questions like that yet," James replied to Warai, who grimaced at him with a menacing smile.
"So have you guys known each other for a long time?" asked Kori of the band.
"Ghenghis and I met in school, and founded the band, with just a rhythm section..." Belle Kicker replied to Kori's question.
"Grinder and I used to jam back then, and we had written some music together but couldn't find a band to fill in the sound we envisioned. We heard Belle Kicker and Ghenghis practicing one day during band class, and we auditioned them..." Vee Tek added.
"We auditioned you..." Ghenghis responded.
"Nooo. We auditioned you. We agreed about this with the lawyers last week..." Grinder stepped in, he himself a sizeable fellow compared to Vee Tek's more modest and sleek Mick Jagger-esque frame.
"There's only one thing harder than starting a band..." Vee Tek started.
"... and that's keeping it together..." Grinder finished.
"We're on a mission to change things you see, but some of us don't see it that way," Ghenghis referred to Vee Tek and Grinder.
"Look. You guys sound great. Play great tonight and keep the unprofessional stuff away from here. Embrace the opportunity, not the conflict," James suggested to them.
"We can agree to that..." Ghenghis nodded in approval.
"Agreed. Let's enjoy this and put on a good show. Our stage is set and sound is checked. We're going to take a break and we'll start getting ready in about an hour. Poke our faces out of our dressing rooms then. It was a pleasure meeting you Heylyn. Here's our card, if you ever want to do some business or license our brand. Keep up that smile and you'll win the world," Vee Tek said to Heylyn, Kori and Warai, who all blushed and gleamed at him.
"Here's mine. If you'd ever like to do something fashion wise with us, give me call," Heylyn shook his hand and the four band members left them to tour the rest of the studio.
"So this stage, stage C will remain set, until their time slot during the show and until they're finished. However, you'll be situated over here on stage A, which is our main stage. The one with Jimmy's desk and the couches you're familiar with," René explained to Heylyn.
"What's the situation for the microphones?" asked Heylyn.
"We always run two systems concurrently. The first is a microphone handled by our boom operator. Its a microphone that dangles from a device that looks like a crane, and remains just outside of the camera's view, overhead. It's very sensitive and accurate when it comes to picking up the human voice. That's our front line microphone. We also use lapel microphones, which we might attach to your blouse, or quite often, behind your ear with some of our newer microphones. They're AI assisted, so they really sound quite good and are our backup option if the boom mic fails," René explained, handing Heylyn one such mic.
"Just clip that on behind your ear, and it should be hidden by your lovely hair, and we'll get the sound check started," René gestured to James, who took his coffee and sat at his desk, admiring Heylyn as she made herself confortable on it.
"It feels so strange..." she said as she sat forward on the guest chair neighbouring James' desk.
"So. Tell me. Do you come as an option with every sofa we purchase?" James smiled at her as they took the levels of his voice through the boom microphone.
"Only the first one, and it has to be colour tested to ensure that it meets West Meet East's strict artistic guidelines..." she nodded and blushed at Jimmy as they both played along in their own little not-so-private role play.
"Is this your first time in New York?" Jimmy asked her, now going with a tone more reminiscent of that he'd use while they were broadcasting.
"We came here once when I was a little girl..." Heylyn began, Jimmy taking advantage of the opening she'd left him.
"Just in case you're in denial, you're still a little girl. An older little girl but a little girl nonetheless..." he smiled at her and she laughed.
"That's what so many people say to me the first time they meet me. They're expecting this six foot tall amazonian woman, when in fact I'm only about five foot nine. But when my mother and father brought me to New York the first time, I was only like three feet tall..." Heylyn laughed and blushed as she recalled.
"Heylyn Hobbit ladies and gentlemen..." Jimmy joked with her and she once again laughed, cupping her hands over her mouth.
"They used to call me a little Mogwai, which I think is a character from the movie Gremlins...?" Heylyn laughed.
"Quick, get the water away from her... and don't feed her after midnight!" Jimmy jumped in right on cue, his memory and sense of nostalgia was impeccable.
"That's great. We've got awesome levels for both of you. Thank you very much. Good show. Good energy. We'll see you at stage call," the director contacted them through the stage intercom.
"That's his polite way sending out the hook... you know, from stage left, to pull us off stage discretely..." Jimmy said to Heylyn who once again found herself laughing uncontrollably at Jimmy's antics.
"Thank you. That was great," Heylyn got up and shook James' hand, still giggling.
"You think that was fun, wait until we're in costume. Thanks Heylyn. We'll see you later tonight," James shook her hand, and waved to Kori and Warai, the latter of whom stood with her arms folded just in front of the stage.
"Are you ready?" asked Heylyn of Warai.
"We're going back to the dressing room right?" asked Warai.
"That correct..." Heylyn grabbed Warai's hand.
"So we can break our tie in Just Dance!" Kori said dramatically.
The Legendary Unknown
Harima Province, Japan 1333
Shizuku, a girl sixteen years of age, knelt at the shore of a pond, tossing bits of Nattō with her hashi into the mirky waters under the painted, slightly overcast sky.
[Shizuku! What did I say about playing by the pond by yourself?]
"雫！池のほとりで一人で遊ぶって何て言ったっけ？" her Uncle Tatsuki yelled to her as he passed, pulling a wheeled cart full of the dried rice he'd recently loaded from their family's steppe farm.
[I am not alone, Oji!]
"私は一人じゃないよ、王子！" Shizuku replied, looking to her male friend who sat beside her.
[Be careful, Shizuku. I don't want you to get in trouble on account of me.]
"気をつけて、雫。私のせいであなたが困ったことに巻き込まれるのは嫌だから。" Makoto Kami urged her.
[Now you are lying to me, Mei!]
"今あなたは私に嘘をついているわ、メイ！" her Uncle stopped with the cart, looking over to where she knelt a few feet away from the bullrushes.
One of larger Koi fish suddenly jumped up out of the water, quickly devouring the bits of Nattō floating on the surface of the pond.
[See? I'm not a lone. I'm here with the Koi.]
"ほら、僕は一人じゃない。鯉と一緒にいるんだ。" Shizuku responded to her Uncle as Makoto Kami laughed at the timing of it all.
[I couldn't have done that better.]
"これ以上うまくできなかったでしょう。" Makoto Kami grinned as he watched the Koi submerge with the remainder of Nattō.
[You are too sharp at times, Mei. You'll never find a husband if you don't soften up.]
"メイ、君は時々辛辣すぎるよ。もっと優しくしないと、絶対に夫は見つからないわよ。" her Uncle grabbed hold of the cart again and continued pulling it up to their house along the old trail.
[Don't worry Shizuku. If nobody will take you, I certainly will.]
"心配しないで、雫。もし誰も連れて行ってくれないなら、私が必ず連れて行きます。" Makoto Kami assured her for her own protection.
[You and I both know that would never be possible...]
"あなたも私も、それが決して不可能であることを知っています..." Shizuku responded to Makoto Kami, the sound a distant sadness in her voice.
[But its nice to pretend... Nicer when you know you can't have it for real...]
"でも、そう装うのはいいことだ... 実際にそれを手に入れることはできないとわかっているほうがいい..." Makoto Kami said to her, materializing a bowl of Nattō in his hand from which he shoveled a generous helping into the pond for the fish.
Shizuku and Makoto Kami watched as the fish ate the Nattō she'd tossed from her bowl, but ignored the Nattō from Makoto Kami's bowl as if it simply didn't exist.
They sat together under the clouds, the sun trying its best to peer out from behind them, until eventually the sky was entirely covered as a late summer storm closed in on them.
[You there! Your Kimono. You're Kiyoko-Chan, are you not?]
"あなた！着物ですね。あなたは清子ちゃんですよね？" a man clearly of Noble descent spoke up from the same trail that led back to her family home.
A pair of Samurai bracketed him on either side.
[Yes! I'm Shizuku Kiyoko-Chan.]
"Yes! I'm Shizuku Kiyoko-Chan." Shizuku turned and bowed, pressing her forehead to her hands on the grass, where she remained until he addressed her.
[We recently finished Himeji Castle as I'm sure that you're aware. I am Nao Akamatsu-San. I am on behalf of our clan, collecting tribute, commemorating this great occasion by holding a feast in the honour of the Ashikaga Shogunate.]
"ご存知の通り、姫路城は先日完成しました。赤松尚でございます。一族を代表し、貢物を集め、足利将軍家への敬意を表した祝宴を催すことで、この素晴らしい機会を祝っております。" Nao Akamatsu introduced himself by demanding tribute from her.
[He's riding his Uncle's Hakama. Don't even give him the time of day!]
"" Makoto Kami said to her, standing to face the three men, none of which could see the young Kami.
[Nothing would bring greater honour to my family than for me to give you what I have, but in this case, I have nothing to give, Akamatsu-San.]
"叔父のハカマに乗ってるんだ。絶対に構わないで！" Shizuku kept her gaze at the ground.
[Go. Up to the house! Collect tribute from the Kiyoko family. I will stay here and make sure Kiyoko-Chan is safe.]
"行け。家へ行け！清子家から貢物を集めろ。私はここに残って、清子ちゃんの安全を確かめる。" Nao ordered his samurai guards.
They immediately continued along the trail in the direction her Uncle had on his way up to the house. When they were a good distance from him, he moved towards Shizuku.
[If you cannot pay by coin or food offering, there are other carnal ways you can give to help us celebrate this momumental occasion.]
"硬貨や食べ物のお供えで支払うことができない場合は、この記念すべき機会を祝うために、他の肉体的な方法で寄付をすることもできます。" Nao grabbed her shoulders and lifted her upright to face him.
[Run, Shizuku!]
"雫逃げろ！" Makoto Kami urged her.
[Would Akamatsu-San take something so precious from Kiyoko-Chan, that it cannot be replaced once taken?]
"赤松さんは清子ちゃんから、一度奪ったら取り返しのつかないほど大切なものを奪ってしまうのでしょうか？" Shizuku asked of Nao.
[I am Akamatsu. I may take whatever I please...]
"私は赤松です。何でも好きなものを取っていいですよ…" Nao said to her, wielding the authority of his family name in the interests of his personal lusts.
With those words, he firmly gripped the breast collar of her family Kimono, and spread it, almost ripping it and bruising her, he wreathed it with such force, exposing her chest as she fell backwards ontoi the grass, struggling to get away from Nao.
The sky darkened as the storm clouds became dense thick, bursts of lightning jumping from peak to peak as a rage filled Makoto Kami unlike any other emotion he'd ever experienced. The skies began to churn as water slowly began to fall. Thunder echoing through the valleys and steppe farms of the surrounding area.
Makoto Kami suddenly felt something. A sensation he'd never felt in his life. He looked to his human form, the one that he took when visiting with Shizuku, and saw that the exposed pale skin off his forearms was soaking up water droplets as they fell from the sky. His skin became wet, reflecting the dance of lightning through the clouds above.
[What man of a family would sneak up on a noble like that?!!! Bow before me, or lose all that is precious to you!]
"一体どんな男が貴族にそんなふうに忍び寄るというのか？！ 私にひれ伏せ、さもないと大切なものをすべて失ってしまうぞ！" Nao ordered Makoto Kami, who was now completely visible to him.
[Makoto!]
"誠！" Shizuku yelled in shock at seeing her best friend for the first time, in the flesh.
[You know this knave? Bow before me! I demand it!]
"この悪党を知っているか？ 私にひれ伏せ！ 要求する！" Nao yelled at Makoto as he reached for Shizuku's wrist, hefting her back up onto her feet, still exposed.
[Release her, or die mortal!]
"彼女を解放せよ、さもなくば死ぬのだ!" Makoto Kami ordered Nao, and it was the first time in three hundred years that any member of a Kami or Yōkai ancestry had intervened in matters involving mortal nobles.
[She belongs to me. All of this belongs to me and my family. The house. The land. The farm. The people. All of it. How can I release something that is mine? Better yet, how dare you make such a demand of me!]
"彼女は私のものだ。この全ては私と私の家族のものだ。家も、土地も、農場も、人々も。全てだ。私のものだと分かっているものをどうして手放せる？それどころか、どうして私にそんな要求をするんだ！" Nao turned and ripped the rest of Shizuku's Kimono from her body, throwing it to the grass and mud as she stood naked before the two of them, glistening under the tears of the sky.
Makoto's blade was already out, drawn from its ancient Saya. The first time that he'd drawn it since training with it thousands of years earlier.
[Pickup her Kimono and wrap it around her. Do it!]
"彼女の着物を拾って、彼女に巻き付けてあげて。やってみよう！" Makoto ordered Nao, circling to get himself between Shizuku and her assailant.
Nao spat back at Makoto Kami, releasing his own family blade from its Saya.
As Nao got into position, he stumbled with his own blade, slipping on the wet grass and in attempting to catch himself before falling, he accidentally cut his elbow, drawing the tiniest drop of blood.
[You drew blood! Now you're going to pay my way!]
"血を流したじゃないか！今度こそ私に償いをさせろ！" Nao yelled at Makoto, charging at him recklessly.
With one swift stroke, Makoto removed Nao's head from his body, the two parts falling forward to the grass, blood flowing from both along the mud until it reached Kiyoko-Chan's Kimono, staining it with a sickly putrid red.
Harima Province, Japan 1333
Three days later
Shizuku's Uncle's hands were bound behind his back, as he knelt before a detachment of Akamatsu Samurai, Dei Akamatsu-San, standing before him, his hand on the kashira of his katana.
[Tatsuki Kiyoko. You have failed to rescind the murderer into our custody, and yet the justice for this tragic crime, must be paid for in family blood. Your family's name will be cursed until a time which the gods feel that the price has been paid. Had you given up the murderer, you could have protected your family name and honour, but you choose to protect the one who took Akamatsu-San's life, and so shall yours be taken in payment of the absent.]
"立木清子。あなたは殺人犯を我々の手に委ねることができなかった。しかし、この悲劇的な犯罪に対する正義は、一族の血によって償われなければならない。神々がその代償を支払ったと認めるまで、あなたの一族の名は呪われるだろう。もしあなたが殺人犯を差し出していたなら、あなたは家名と名誉を守ることができたはずだ。しかしあなたは赤松さんの命を奪った者を守ることを選んだ。だから、あなたは不在者への償いとして、命を奪われることになるのだ。" Dei Akamatsu addressed Tatsuki as he knelt before him.
[Your filth of a son tried to rape my daughter! Even if I knew who it was that protected my daughter, I would gladly give my life a thousand times over to protect him. If you do not have the power or authority to punish that heinous crime, then you do not have the authority to lay such a curse upon my family. Take my life as you see fit. I will die on my knees, but not because I am bowing to you, but because I do not want to see my daughter's face when my time comes!]
"お前のような汚らしい息子が、私の娘をレイプしようとした！たとえ娘を守ってくれたのが誰なのか分かっていたとしても、私は喜んでその命を千倍でも捧げるだろう。もしお前にその凶悪な犯罪を罰する力も権限もないのなら、私の家族にそのような呪いをかける権限もない。私の命をどうか奪ってほしい。私はひざまずいて死ぬ。だが、それはお前に頭を下げているからではなく、私の命が尽きた時に娘の顔を見たくないからだ！" Tatsuki defied the declaration of the heir.
[Then cursed your family shall be, to be undone when the gods feel that the price has been paid.]
"そうすれば、あなたの家族は呪われ、神々が代償は払われたと感じた時に滅ぼされるでしょう。" Dei declared, drawing his katana.
Shizuku's tears came silently, and when Makoto Kami appeared beside her, invisible to the rest of the mortals, she pretended that he wasn't there.
For the second time in her life, a man's head rolled to the ground from its neck and shoulders only feet from her gaze.
From that moment onward, she never uttered another word to Makoto Kami.
Harima Province, Japan 1769
Shintō, Temple
A man sat inside of the tiny confines of the temple, a small engraved plaque on a shelf holding a few Kanji sybols denoting the Kiyoko family name and perhaps the only evidence that they'd ever existed aside from their scattered family spread throughout the rest of Japan.
Another man in a long Hanfu robe and hat stepped into the temple, quietly finding his own space within, about two feet away from the first man. He cleared his throat a few times, and then pulled a pouch full of incense cones, placing them carefully on a tray that was cleaned every day for that express purpose.
He grabbed a nearby oil lamp and used it to ignite the incense, then returning the lamp to its place in the temple.
The scent of the incense quickly filled the air, and when it was quite fragrant, and smoky within the tiny temple, the second man spoke:
[You have been here long?]
"ここには長くいらっしゃるんですか？" the man in the Hanfu asked.
[Yes. Far too long.]
"はい。長すぎます。" Makoto Kami responded.
[I knew it was you. Then tell me, why do you come here?]
"君だと分かりました。では、なぜここに来たのですか？" asked the man in the Hanfu.
[A mortal. Long gone. Her long silky hair is all but withered fluff that blew off with the wind. Her bones are dust that permeates the air all over the world. All I have left of her is a plaque with her family name on it, and my memories.]
"人間だった。遠い昔に逝ってしまった。長く絹のような髪は、風に吹かれて枯れ果てた綿毛と化し、骨は塵と化し、世界中に漂っている。彼女から私に残されたものは、家名が刻まれた銘板と、私の思い出だけだ。" Makoto Kami explained to the man.
[She has family?]
"彼女には家族がいるんですか？" asked the man in the Hanfu.
[Yes. She was married for a short time, before her husband was lost at sea. He owned a small fleet of fishing vessels, and was out on one when a typhoon struck. They had a son and a daughter. Both married, each having their own families. Strangely enough, they and their spouses all died in the same year, leaving the children to fend for themselves. They continued on, grew up and had their own children, and then myteriously died and this continued right until this very day. Her line isn't broken if that's what you're asking.]
[I take it you helped them? Protected them?]
"あなたは彼らを助けたのですか？彼らを守ったのですか？" asked the man in the Hanfu.
[I did. The best that I could, but some curses must run their course, despite how unjust it was in its pronouncement. By a mortal noble too. A man I thought had the sense and the will to right that particular wrong. Instead he chose the status quot.]
"そうした。精一杯のことをした。だが、たとえそれがいかに不当な宣告であったとしても、呪いは必ず効いてくるものだ。しかも、それは人間の貴族によるものだった。あの男には、あの過ちを正すだけの分別と意志があると思っていたのに。ところが、彼は現状維持を選んだ。" Makoto Kami told him.
There were a few moments of silence between them, which Makoto Kami broke:
[You're different. Not Shintō. Zen Maybe? You don't smell like you're from around here.]
"君は違う。神道じゃない。禅宗かな？この辺りの人間には似合わない匂いがする。" Makoto Kami said to the man.
[No. I'm from across the sea. Nanjing. I'm a Taoist. Lu Shou is my name.]
"いいえ。私は海の向こう、南京から来ました。道教の信者です。私の名前は呂寿です。" Lu Shou introduced himself.
[Makoto Kami. From the Katsura line.]
"上誠。桂家出身。" Makoto Kami introduced himself to another mortal for the first time in four hundred years.
[You're the sad one, right. From that painting? The one by the Portugese fellow? The Missionary. The artist?]
"悲しいのは君の方だろう。あの絵の？ポルトガル人の？宣教師の？画家の？" Lu Shou confirmed with Makoto Kami.
[That's me, though I'll never know how he saw me. I think it was just a very big coincidence and my having had a hundred and fifty years to think it over, just made it a bit worse.]
"それが私です。彼が私をどう見ていたかは、決して知ることはないでしょう。ただの大きな偶然だったのだと思います。150年もの間、そのことについて考え続けてきたことが、さらに状況を悪化させただけかもしれません。" Makoto explained to Lu Shou, who nodded.
[Could have been. Some of us have eyes for you. Some ears. Some a nose as well.]
"そうだったかもしれない。私たちの中には、あなたを見る目を持つ者もいる。耳を持つ者もいる。鼻を持つ者もいる。" Lu Shou told Makoto.
[Is that how you found me?]
"そうやって私を見つけたんですか？" asked Makoto Kami.
[I knew you were here the first time I set foot in this place. I'd been looking for you for quite some time.]
"初めてこの場所に足を踏み入れた時から、あなたがここにいると分かりました。ずっとあなたを探していたんです。" Lu Shou told Makoto Kami.
[And why would a Chinese Taoist be so interested in finding a member of the Katura Kami/Yōkai line?]
"そして、なぜ中国の道教徒は桂神/妖怪の系統に属する人物を見つけることにそれほど興味を持つのでしょうか?" asked Makoto Kami in their little game of hide and seek.
[Butterflies it would seem. They've spread quite far from their humble beginnings. Their story it seems has become intertwined with yours.]
"蝶々のようですね。慎ましい始まりから、ずいぶん遠くまで広がっていきました。彼らの物語は、どうやらあなたの物語と絡み合っているようです。" Lu Shou explained to Makoto, using his hands to mime the flight of a butterfly.
[I always thought you were more concerned with the interactions of the two dragons and mortals. Aren't butterflies a little bit beneath your station in this mortal coil of yours?]
"君は二匹のドラゴンと人間の関係にもっと関心があると思っていたよ。蝶は君のこの死すべき世において、少し身分相応ではないか？" asked Makoto Kami.
[I speak not of the literal variety, but of a very dedicated group it seems have transcended the borders between their world and yours.]
"私が言っているのは文字通りの多様性についてではなく、彼らの世界と皆さんの世界の境界を超越したと思われる非常に献身的なグループについてです。" Lu Shou watched the tendrils of incense smoke rise into the temple.
[And what connects me to these butterflies?]
"そして、私とこれらの蝶々を結びつけるものは何でしょうか?" asked Makoto Kami.
[A certain butterfly named Shizuku Kiyoko.]
"雫清子の名前を持つ蝶。" Lu Shou stood from the bench at that moment, as if ready to leave.
[You can't leave me now, after dropping that on me mortal!]
"私にそんなものを投げつけたら、もう私を置いて行くことはできないわよ！" Makoto Kami stood from his bench to face Lu Shu.
[Are you saying that its your time, or your patience that is at a premium compared to that of a mortal?]
"あなたの時間、あるいは忍耐力は、人間と比べて貴重だと言っているのですか?" Lu Shou's eye brow rose ever so slightly as he spoke insightfully.
[I will return tomorrow at the same time, and we will resume our conversation, unless you believe for some reason that you're short of time?]
"明日も同じ時間に戻りますので、会話を再開しましょう。ただし、何らかの理由で時間が足りないと思われる場合は、" asked Lu Shou with serene smile on his face.
[It never ceases to amaze me when I learn something from a mortal. Perhaps you know its value better than do I, for time is the only thing I truly have and ever will.]
"人間から何かを学ぶと、いつも驚かされます。もしかしたら、あなたの方が私よりもその価値をよくご存知かもしれません。なぜなら、時間こそが、私が本当に持っている、そしてこれからもずっと持つ唯一のものだからです。" Makoto Kami said to Lu Shou.
[By the same time tomorrow my friend, I expect that you will have much more.]
"明日の同じ時間までに、友人よ、あなたはさらに多くのものを手に入れるだろうと私は期待しています。" Lu Shou left the temple quietly as the sun set on a country on the doorstep of industrialization.
Makoto Kami watched over Lu Shou the entire night for he didn't want anything to happen to the man who'd just planted spurred him from the depths of his loss since Shizuku forbade herself from ever regarding him again.
To be continued...
Look forward to one more update on Saturday June 14, 2025. The story will be finished by Monday at which point I'll publish it sometimes before 12 PM noon EST.
Credits and attribution:
Special Thanks To Rocket Fuel Lakeshore Blvd West, perhaps the best place in history to get a coffee, circa 2001-2004. Miss you all very much.
Artwork: Amy Wong, Wendy Pusey, Ghastly, Birdman, Brian Joseph Johns, Daz3D, Unreal Engine...Tools: Daz3D, Corel Painter, Adobe Photoshop, Lightwave 3D, Blender, Stable Diffusion (Easy Diffusion distribution), InstantID, Sadtalker, Google Colaboratory, Microsoft Copilot (Windows 11), Hitfilm, PhotoPea (a great web based Photoshop stand-in if you're on a low budget or in a pinch), Borderline Obsession...
DeepSeek AI for suggestions on exercises to improve aspects of describing scene and settings with a more sensory focused grammar.
InstantID by: Wang, Qixun and Bai, Xu and Wang, Haofan and Qin, Zekui and Chen, Anthony. Research Paper Title: InstantID - Zero-shot Identity-Preserving Generation in Seconds.
Sadtalker by: Zhang, Wenxuan and Cun, Xiaodong and Wang, Xuan and Zhang, Yong and Shen, Xi and Guo, Yu and Shan, Ying and Wang, Fei.
Research Paper Title: SadTalker: Learning Realistic 3D Motion Coefficients for Stylized Audio-Driven Single Image Talking Face Animation.
Gratitude: Our Mentors, Senseis, Sifus, Sebomnims, lifetime inspirations, family, friends, the Nomads (ask Stanton about that one), the Music, the Movies, the Theatre, the Arts, ASMR, (both YouTube and Bilibili and the many other creators on those platforms), the Gaming and Developer communities and of course, the audience.
Martial Arts (in the words of real experts and at least one comedian): https://brucelee.com (home of the real Dragon and an entire family of inspirations), http://iwco.online International Wing Chun Organization (International presence of a very scalable intensity martial art, protected and developed by Shaolin Nun Ng Mui) and the alma mater of Jinn Hua's own specialized variation thereof, https://iogkf.com International Okinawan Goju-Ryu Karatedo Federation (even Hanshi had his teachers), https://itftkd.sport International Taekwondo Federation (Here there be Taegers), https://tangsoodoworld.com Tang Soo Do World (the path of Grandmaster Chuck Norris), https://www.aikido-international.org International Aikido Federation (how else would Navy Chef Steven Seagal liberate a Nimitz Class Aircraft Carrier from a team of hijackers?), https://www.stqitoronto.com Shaolin Temple Quanfa Institute (The City Of Toronto's own Shaolin Temple), https://www.enterthedojoshow.com Master Ken's Ameri-Te-Do presence (If we can't laugh at ourselves, then we can at least laugh the loudest at others, and other Zen)
Magic (performance, illusion and perhaps the real thing): Magic Week Archive (I'm currently growing this section so stay tuned)
Special thanks to Aitrepreneur, Mickmumpitz, Hugging Face and the YouTube educational content producers, including those catering to the AI content production pipeline and of course AlphaSignal.
Shi Heng Yi Shaolin Training For Self Mastery
A reknowned Sifu under whose tutelage you can study the theory and practical applications of the Shaolin Arts for health, physical and mental wellbeing in every day life
Jesse Enkamp: Karate Nerd
Jesse, a reknowned Sensei who runs his own dojo, explores the world of Martial Arts, traveling to many exotic locations to meet practitioners of a variety of different arts
Sensei Rokas: Martial Arts Journey
A reknowned Sensei of Aikido who in seeking to understand the roots of Aikido and its applications, seeks to stress test its effectiveness in a number of real world situations while studying its history
Seamus O'Dowd
An extensive growing archive Katas, Techniques and Waza (mostly Shotokan)
Iaido: Train For Katana Mastery Like Samurai
The original weapons focused curriculum under which Samurai became masters of their art
Tapp Brothers Exercise For Better Motion
Extensive courses for calisthenics and body strength, stamina and flexibility
Special thanks to Canva for inspiring other creators and giving them the tools
Special thanks to Captain Crunch and his wonderful sister!
Special thanks to Bandcamp for giving indie music artists a home under one roof
Something to give you perspective: The very first teacher had no formal education, didn't graduate and was self taught, but only because they had no other choice. We do.
Tools: Daz3D, Corel Painter, Adobe Photoshop, Lightwave 3D, Blender, Stable Diffusion (Easy Diffusion distribution), InstantID, Sadtalker, Google Colaboratory, Microsoft Copilot (Windows 11), Hitfilm, PhotoPea (a great web based Photoshop stand-in if you're on a low budget or in a pinch), Borderline Obsession...
DeepSeek AI for suggestions on exercises to improve aspects of describing scene and settings with a more sensory focused grammar.
InstantID by: Wang, Qixun and Bai, Xu and Wang, Haofan and Qin, Zekui and Chen, Anthony. Research Paper Title: InstantID - Zero-shot Identity-Preserving Generation in Seconds.
Sadtalker by: Zhang, Wenxuan and Cun, Xiaodong and Wang, Xuan and Zhang, Yong and Shen, Xi and Guo, Yu and Shan, Ying and Wang, Fei.
Research Paper Title: SadTalker: Learning Realistic 3D Motion Coefficients for Stylized Audio-Driven Single Image Talking Face Animation.
Gratitude: Our Mentors, Senseis, Sifus, Sebomnims, lifetime inspirations, family, friends, the Nomads (ask Stanton about that one), the Music, the Movies, the Theatre, the Arts, ASMR, (both YouTube and Bilibili and the many other creators on those platforms), the Gaming and Developer communities and of course, the audience.
Martial Arts (in the words of real experts and at least one comedian): https://brucelee.com (home of the real Dragon and an entire family of inspirations), http://iwco.online International Wing Chun Organization (International presence of a very scalable intensity martial art, protected and developed by Shaolin Nun Ng Mui) and the alma mater of Jinn Hua's own specialized variation thereof, https://iogkf.com International Okinawan Goju-Ryu Karatedo Federation (even Hanshi had his teachers), https://itftkd.sport International Taekwondo Federation (Here there be Taegers), https://tangsoodoworld.com Tang Soo Do World (the path of Grandmaster Chuck Norris), https://www.aikido-international.org International Aikido Federation (how else would Navy Chef Steven Seagal liberate a Nimitz Class Aircraft Carrier from a team of hijackers?), https://www.stqitoronto.com Shaolin Temple Quanfa Institute (The City Of Toronto's own Shaolin Temple), https://www.enterthedojoshow.com Master Ken's Ameri-Te-Do presence (If we can't laugh at ourselves, then we can at least laugh the loudest at others, and other Zen)
Magic (performance, illusion and perhaps the real thing): Magic Week Archive (I'm currently growing this section so stay tuned)
Special thanks to Aitrepreneur, Mickmumpitz, Hugging Face and the YouTube educational content producers, including those catering to the AI content production pipeline and of course AlphaSignal.
Shi Heng Yi Shaolin Training For Self Mastery
A reknowned Sifu under whose tutelage you can study the theory and practical applications of the Shaolin Arts for health, physical and mental wellbeing in every day life
Jesse Enkamp: Karate Nerd
Jesse, a reknowned Sensei who runs his own dojo, explores the world of Martial Arts, traveling to many exotic locations to meet practitioners of a variety of different arts
Sensei Rokas: Martial Arts Journey
A reknowned Sensei of Aikido who in seeking to understand the roots of Aikido and its applications, seeks to stress test its effectiveness in a number of real world situations while studying its history
Seamus O'Dowd
An extensive growing archive Katas, Techniques and Waza (mostly Shotokan)
Iaido: Train For Katana Mastery Like Samurai
The original weapons focused curriculum under which Samurai became masters of their art
Tapp Brothers Exercise For Better Motion
Extensive courses for calisthenics and body strength, stamina and flexibility
Special thanks to Canva for inspiring other creators and giving them the tools
Special thanks to Captain Crunch and his wonderful sister!
Special thanks to Bandcamp for giving indie music artists a home under one roof
Something to give you perspective: The very first teacher had no formal education, didn't graduate and was self taught, but only because they had no other choice. We do.
This content is entirely produced in Toronto, Ontario, Canada at 200 Sherbourne Street Suite 701 under the Shhhh! Digital Media banner.
This content is entirely produced in Toronto, Ontario, Canada at 200 Sherbourne Street Suite 701 under the Shhhh! Digital Media banner.
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Produced at Shhhh! Digital Media
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Copyright © 2025 Brian Joseph Johns
https://www.facebook.com/shhhhdigital
https://www.tiktok.com/@shhhhdigitalofficial
https://shop.shhhhdigital.com
Produced at Shhhh! Digital Media
200 Sherbourne Street Suite 701
Toronto, Ontario, Canada
Inquiries: brian.joseph.johns@shhhhdigital.com, info@shhhhdigital.com
https://shop.shhhhdigital.com
Produced at Shhhh! Digital Media
200 Sherbourne Street Suite 701
Toronto, Ontario, Canada
Inquiries: brian.joseph.johns@shhhhdigital.com, info@shhhhdigital.com
Copyright © 2025 Brian Joseph Johns