This assignment was to make a story using 7 characters, similar to Justice League. I decided to try and create a movie idea using 7 of our characters.

One warm day, Marlene was cleaning her bar when Rose, and shortly after, Maybelline ran inside and locked the door behind them. Rose told Marlene, a man visiting from a different town recognized her from one of the wanted posters where he was from. He tried to trick her by introducing himself, but she got a weird vibe so she left. As she was leaving, she heard him whisper to his buddy “hey, isn’t that the girl from the posters back home?”. Rose left the store, running into Maybelline on the way. She quickly explained the situation to Maybelline and immediately, they thought of Marlene. Once at the tavern, Marlene helps Rose devise a plan to get out of town that night; she can go stay with Marlene’s cousin Agnus in Tombstone Arizona. The next day, Kyle and Merrell come in Marlene’s place, asking her all about the town and who lives there. She over hears them talking about finding Rose and turning her in for the reward and worries they’re bounty hunters! Will they be able to track down Rose? Can they survive long enough to get to her?

One of the many Collaborative Character Media Assignments I completed this week was called, “Seven-Character Story Treatment.” The directions were to, “Create a seven-character team in the tradition of Justice League, Murder by Death, or The League of Extraordinary Gentlemen, and write a brief treatment for a potential movie or TV pilot.”

Since this is collab week, I either needed to make a seven character story using someone else’s character or change an already published story. I decided to use Spencer’s “Noir Short Story” and help him change the ending. What you see below is Spencer’s work, with my unique ending added on. I will leave Spencer original work in black and put my edits in red.

[Worth 3 stars]

So, here it goes:

I got the call at 6 o’clock. ‘Be at The Lowdown at 8,’ was all Jonny said. I had plans now.

5 minutes before 8. I pay the taxi, and his Plymouth sputters off. It sounds like it’s proppelling itself with exploding popcorn. “Puh! Puht! Tk-tk-tk-tk!”

I see a burgundy trenchcoat. Jonny’s already here. He’s with Franklin, talking to a few women in line for the club. It’s not a long line, and The Lowdown’s rarely this busy. I wonder what’s going on tonight.

Jonny turns his head to blow his smoke away from the dames when I catch his eye. Good. I tip my hat, and get moving.

“Donnie! You made it!”
“Course I did. Now, why’d you bring me down here?”
“Slow down, my man! You’re gonna love it!”
“Love what?” God. Love it? Love it? I hate clubs. Too many eyes on you. It’s like people go out just to wonder why people go out. Except for Jonny. Jonny’s always at the club.
“Her.” He motions toward the cone speaker.

“~Annd then you’ll laugh, and I’ll wink~”

I recognize Rita Smith’s voice immediately.

“Jonny, you know I don’t like clubs.”
“Calm down, man! This’ll be different.” Different? How different?
Franklin realizes Jonny’s left his side and strides over. I can’t blame him for not coming by sooner.

I try to hail a taxi, but Jonny pulls my arm down.
“Hey man, you have to come inside. I want you to meet someone.”
“Not tonight. I’ve almost wrapped a story on how the car’s gonna be the invention of the century. Just needs some polish.” I didn’t have an article.
“Not this time, Donnie.” Dammit. He’s got me.

So we walk in under the dim neon arrow. Jonny tips his hat to his friend, the doorman. Jonny leads us to a booth behind the pianist playing on stage.

“Jonny. I’ve got a record of Rita Smith. We could’ve listened to that.”
“Nonsense, Donnie. You can’t meet a record.”

“~When the night fills me up~”

I was staring. We need better artists in the States. I pack my pipe, and start it.

“Ah, here they are!” Two women and a man sauntered up to our table flashing their pearly whites.

“Jonny! Is that you!” Oh great, one of Jonny’s one-nighter’s recognizes him.
“How ya been, Patsy! I see I’m finally meeting San Francisco’s luckiest man, Ken!”
“Jonny,” Ken responds with a tip of his hat, as the three newcomers slide in.
“Oh my, and who are these gentlemen?” the one named Patsy asked.
“Donnie Rawlen. Pleasure.”
“Porter. I’ve got a first name, but we can stick to Porter, for now.”

They talk for a while, I don’t know how long. I catch bits and pieces. Apparently Ken and Patsy are in something bad. I catch the other woman’s eye and she looks away. So I focus on Rita on stage.

“~Moonlit shadows dancing endlessly~
~Falling fast, into the sea~”

She glances back at me.

“Donnie, we gotta go.”
Franklin slides out first, and ushers us toward the exit between our booth and the stage. I help the nameless woman out of her side.

“Hold it right there, slick!” Slick? I’m not slick. He can’t be talking to me. I keep moving, when I’m pushed from my back. I turn around to a pinstripe-laden slick- haired Italian. Great. Just great.

“We have a problem, Don?” Franklin asks me. Why’s he asking me? I don’t have a problem. Wait! I do. This guy!

“This joker calls me slick, then shoves me, Porter.”
“Now you’re gonna let the girl come with me, you twos.” the Italian interjected.

“~Beneath the stars, until they fade~”

Franklin grabs the man by his suit coat with his left, and suckers him with his right. He’s out. Cold.

“Hey, Jonny! We gotta go!”
“Now you get the picture.” He’s already halfway out the door when a few more pinstripes walk in the door.

Rita notices on stage, and slams the piano shut. The lights shoot on as she bounds toward our exit. Franklin files the six of us through, pulling a nearby chair with him for the door.

We’re standing in a back alley. There’s a few Studebaker‘s parked out front. Shit.

“Sidney, Rita! This way,” Patsy screams to the other women as a pair of headlights races toward us from the other end of the alley. Ken was already in his car, pulling up, fast.

Trouble always follows Jonny.

The one named Patsy reaches down and lifts her dress, pulling out a snub-nose. She hops in passenger as we all pile into Ken’s car. Patsy keeps her eye on the exit Franklin placed the chair behind.

“Take 3rd to Powell, Kenny!” Jonny’s in his element.”And Donnie, take this. You’re gonna need it.” He hands me a Tommy he’s pulled from under the driver seat.

Rita rips a Model 10 from her bosom and looks at me, while I stare back, dumbfounded that Rita Smith, San Francisco’s sweetheart, had a gun. “Jonny, you told me he wasn’t green.”

“See, Donnie-boy! I told you you’d meet her!” Just like he said promised, this was definitely different.

Our car is racing down the street. I think Kenny is afraid the pinstrippers from the club will follow us.

“Donny, you ever shot a gun?” shouts Kenny over the roar of the engine. “Of course not. I’m an journalist for christ sake!”? 

“Well, it’s time you learn.” I’m not sure what we are getting into but there is no turning back. I have a little comfort knowing Rita is with us. If this delicate woman is in this type of situation, how bad could it really be?

Just as I thought that the car screeched to a halt. We were in front of some old, what I assumed to be, abandoned building. “Everybody out. Come inside.” whispered Rita as she slipped out of the car and into the darkness of the street. I had a bad feeling about this, but like I said, I’m too far in this to go back now.

We all climb out of the car and sneak up the steps of this building. Kenny, Rita, and Jonny were all looking around to make sure no one saw us enter the building. I’m not sure who they thought would be out walking the streets at this hour. Rita pulls out a key and unlocks the front door of the building. We all slip into the entrance, being sure not to make a peep.

“Rita, what is this place?” Jonny asks. “Shhh!” Rita responds. “Im not sure if we should be here,” I whisper to anyone who will listen. “Oh don’t be such a puss,” whispers Jonny back. We were walking towards the back of the house in pitch black. Just then we begin to round a corner and see a faint light.

This is the Seven-Character Story Treatment that is three points. It took me awhile to find a prompt I could use for writing about the character I created so I thought that it would be fun to include other characters that he interacts with.

They have never met until now. One night when a young man appears in front of his taxi, George Smith gets a new customer. Amelia Williams is given an idiot to take care of. Mark and Katherine Jones are recruited to on a secret mission that they haven’t been told anything about but the mission will give them limitless income. Enrique Rivera is taken from the streets to aid in the secret mission on account that his younger sister’s death will be avenged. Mariam Flowers sings at the local bar and constantly sees a six people running around with mild confusion. She sets out to find out what their secrets are. Eric Mills used to be a cop until his daughter died. Now he keeps on getting cryptic message from an unknown source. What happens when a group of strangers are told to help a mystery boy on a mediocre mission.

This isn’t the best description but I wanted to add more characters to the story so here it is.

Seven Character Story

Create a seven-character team in the tradition of Justice League, Murder by Death, or The League of Extraordinary Gentlemen, and write a brief treatment for a potential movie or TV pilot.

Story behind the Story

I had a lot of fun designing the character Stella Vaughn. I wanted to do something besides create a hero or private investigator. I wanted to write about something I know little about and have never written about before. I think it’s interesting in society when we start to explore ideas or concepts outside of the comfort zone. A lot of my writing has been research papers or reflections on literature. I took one creative writing course, and I wish I had put more into it. I always thought I would just be an academic writer, nothing too creative. In fact even with the other writing assignments I have chose, they were safe. While they were doable and different. This one allowed me to feel like a writer. 

I chose to do this one because I wanted to expand my character. I had created her, and now I wanted to see her come to life. Creating this person through a computer makes me feel a little powerful. I can write what I want and change anything at any moment. I would never in a million years present this idea in front of a class, but on a blog I just suddenly feel a creative side start to flow. I think that’s why it is important to have some kind of digital expression in classrooms. It opens the door not only to those who may be shy but also opens a door into your mind. As cliche as it sounds, I felt like I was supposed to be sitting in a dark room, hunched over my computer, throwing back coffees watching as my fingers sprint from one button to another (hey even that sentence felt a little creative).

Work Itself

“So, how are you doing today?” The room wasn’t very cozy. Black granite covered the floor. There were no couches, just two army green chairs, maybe corduroy ; anyway, while it was relatively comfortable, it wasn’t exactly a magazine spread for a psychologists office. Her desk was completely clean. not even a pencil or notepad strategically placed to make it look like she cared.

She titled her head, but never smiled. I think that’s why I was so curious. Someone who never smiles has to be hiding something.

***

I sit in the coffee shop. It’s 6 in the morning, and I am once again meeting a distress husband who probably thinks his wife is cheating on him or trying to kill him. Either way, I should start looking into a more respectable profession. It has gotten to the point where I hope that they are being cheated on just so I can ruin someone else’s day like they have ruined my life. But hey, it pays the bills and I am good at it. So here I am at 6 in the morning, waiting; never going to change.

I spot a man dressed in all black. He pauses at the door and frantically while also trying to be slick, it’s not going so well for him, searches the premises.

I lift my hand. He walks towards me.

“What the heck are you trying to do? Rob a bank?

Apparently he didn’t find my job at his attire helpful.

“I was trying to be inconspicuous…” he said with the most serious expression I have ever seen on a man.

I couldn’t help it. I busted out laughing and almost got up to leave. This is just getting ridiculous.

“Look, I think you are going to want to hear what I have to say,” he finally say down.

“My name is Emerson, and I believe my wife is a sociopath.”

I just stared for a couple seconds.

“Well…that’s a new one.”

“She is a psychologist, and over the years, without her knowing, I have gotten to know a few of her clients…ones that…let’s just say…felt uncomfortable.”

“If she is a sociopath than saying they felt uncomfortable is a little bit of an understatement don’t ya think? Are you sure she just isn’t plain mean or after years of listening to other people’s problems, she just can’t fake caring anymore?

“No.”

“well you are gonna have to give me something more than that.”

“You need to meet with the others.”

I sighed. “Okay, how many, names and addresses?”

“There are 5.”

Oh you have to be kidding. Five people who are going to expect me to listen to all of their problems? “Fine, but either you are paying extra or they are each contributing.”

“Deal.”

George Pemberton

Connie St. Claire

Lola Daniels

Patrick Dumas

Edward Peters

Those were the five names that Fitz gave me. Fitz and Stella…it sounds like such a perfect couple. Fitz gave a couple descriptions and details about his wife, but the only one I found truly intriguing was her nickname. Stells. For some reason, nicknames always mean something to me. Stella sounds elegant, almost like a picture-perfect wife. Take away the “a” and add an “s” and you get someone who sounds like they would watch as you get trampled by a heard of buffalo. Maybe it’s the repetition of “s’s.”

***

First stop. George Pemberton.

I knock on the door, and a flighty, short man with bug eyes and a horrific combover answers the door.

“Mr. Pemberton?”

“Yes.”

“I am hear because Mr. Vau…”

“NO.”

Next thing I know, I am being dragged into a tiny apartment with black out curtains.

“You can’t say that outloud!”

Oh goodness.

“She may hear you”

“Mrs. Vaughn, or Stells as you may refer to her”

“Yes, she could be anywhere.”

He brings me into a room and I see four other people sitting around a coffee table.

“Connie, Lola, Patrick, and Edward I assume?”

“We thought we would make it easier on you. I’m Lola.”

We all went around and introduced ourselves.

“Might as well dive in. Who wants to go first?”

***

Four hours later and I can’t tell if I am shivering from the lack of heat or because each of their stories seemed to progressively get worse and worse.

Stells was not just sick of her job. She was not just a mean person.
She was going to be the death of me.

Death, loss, pain, suffering. That is what Stells name meant. Even worse, torturous.

The worst part, it was all mental, as far as I could tell from these 5 people, she never physically hurt anyone.

“I don’t know how much I am going to be able to do”

I don’t know why I said that; maybe I am scared?

“Please,” Connie chimed in. Her face still blotchy from her story.

Right as I was about to answer, a knock came on the door.

“That must be Fitz,” said Patrick.

“He said he might stop by.”

“I’ll get it,” I stood up. I needed a moment to myself.

I answer the door and there is a tall, uneasily pale woman with piercing green eyes standing at the door.

She smirked but her eyes didn’t change.

“I am looking for George.”

George comes scurrying to the door.

“Dr. Vaughn…”

Oh shit. Last time I checked, George hadn’t seen “Stells” for two months. Why was she at his apartment?

“I’ve heard you have been having problems again and I thought I would…check up”

“Who is this?”

George faltered.

“It’s okay George, I think I have made up my mind,” I intervened.

“George here was actually recommending me to you, I am in the market for a psychologist.”

“Well perfect timing then, right George?”

Stells stared at him for a minute.

“Why don’t you stop by my office tomorrow morning Mr…?”

“Reins”

“Perfect.”

She walked away. I stood there, I could have sworn I was frozen.

I should have quit while I was ahead.

Narrate the Process

I honestly didn’t know where I was going to go with this story. I just started to type and as soon as I finished a sentence or piece of dialogue, I just knew what was going to come next.

I have spent a lot of time making outlines, finding quotes, and developing thesis’. But I recently took English 307, The Writing Process and learned that sometimes when you just freewrite with no intention of keeping or sharing your thoughts, you create a piece that can turn into something great.

I used no outside resources. I didn’t Goolge anything. I just wrote

I had to dedicate at least 3 stars to my Character Dossier, and I thought this assignment would be the perfect way to do it! Not only is it worth a whopping 3 stars, it was also an extremely fun assignment to do. The title of the assignment is Seven-Character Story Treatment in which you create 7 characters, in a way similar to the Justice League or Murder by death, and then create an idea for a TV show pilot or movie. I decided to choose a TV Show Pilot which turned into the beginning of a TV series…. but none the less, I hope you enjoy what I have created!

TV Show- Back to Morgan

Who is the first person you would suspect to commit murder and get away with it? A serial killer? A psychopath? A felon? What about a family and their dog? No? Well times are changing.

Meet Blair Morgan-Arnold and her family. She and her husband Charles have 5 children Charles Jr, Connor, Charlotte, Caroline, and little Callie Mae. Her dog, Copper, a loving foxhound protects each and every member of the family, besides Blair’s husband. Copper never took a liking to him. But Copper isn’t always the nicest rose in the bouquet. He can attack instantly on command, which is great for Blair and her family. Everyone knew the Arnolds as a sweet, wholesome southern family. No one suspected what was soon to come.

When Blair found out Charles had yet another mistress in their bed, she about lost it. This was the third one in 6 months, and she was done. She didn’t just want him gone, she wanted him dead. She knew that each of her children had a gift that would help her fulfill this task. Charles Jr could run faster than any kid in the state, even at 7 years old. Connor, at age 6,could come up with better fictional stories than an English major with a concentration in creative writing. 5-year-old Charlotte had a gift like no one else. She was able to communicate with spirits. No one, besides Blair, knew of this gift. 3 year old Caroline was the brainiac. She could multiply large numbers in her head, and could measure distance with her eyes, with complete accuracy. And 2 year old Callie Mae, while still young, had a gift she couldn’t even realize yet. She had the ability to read minds, but was also able to shift the minds of others whenever she felt possible. Copper, their beloved dog, was a hunter. He attacked on command, and could kill, if necessary.

Between the 7 of them, Blair knew that she would be able to make this murder happen, be able to get away with it, and get her last name back.

This “show” builds onto the story I have created about my character, Blair Morgan, and how she killed her husband Charles. It was really a lot of fun to be able to work more with the character to make her story have depth. I was able to add details about her family, including naming her 5 children as well as her dog. I was also able to figure out a way to get her children involved with the murder. (If you check Blair’s bio, you’ll see that they do in fact get away with it, and they move to Detroit where she becomes a Crime Scene Cleaner). Eventually, I’m sure as more assignments are posted, the story will continue to build, and I will be able to get more and more creative with her and her family as time goes on. 

I’ve really been exploring a lot of options on the life of my character. This assignment really gave me insight on how detailed I can get. I’m really starting to enjoy this deep and dark writing, which is weird for me since I refer to myself as a princess on a regular basis. Blair sort of gives me an alter ego, and an outlet to write stories in a way I usually wouldn’t. That is one thing I really like about this class as a whole. You are pushed outside of your comfort zone, and it opens up your eyes to new possibilities. Blair’s story will continue to grow, and I cannot wait to see how other people develop their characters as well. I definitely think this assignment was a great way to get me thinking about Blair’s life, and how I want to shape it. Who knows. Maybe one day someone will want to buy the rights to Blair and make a movie out of her life….which is basically what I’m banking on to pay back my loans.