Post by James Gilmore on Feb 11, 2018 20:28:38 GMT
Journal Entry #3 - “Morning Assembly”
”I’ve had plenty of long nights in stir--nights in which I’d be left with nothin’ except my thoughts, wonderin’ how the next day would turn out yet thinkin’ about what’s goin’ on around me.
I must admit...I didn’t expect to find myself in a place like this. To tell ya the truth, I feel...a bit creeped out by the prospect of bein’ in some strange place you know nothin’ about, bein’ recruited by a stranger in a black hooded robe. Yet I’m here at the Palace, and as ya always say Fiona, I’ve gotta learn to make due with what I’ve got.
Even if I find myself bein’ trapped in a cage with no one to turn to.
The first night I spent at the Palace...was something much bigger, more meaningful than anything I could’ve ever imagined. ‘This is a place where lost dreamers could rediscover their dreams,’ Mr. Malakova said at my orientation. Yet deep within my soul, I could only dream about one person, the one who’s meant the world to me ever since we first met on that glorious ship--Yulia.
Then...I heard screams from another wing in my cellblock, and it was at this point in time when I remembered just how unpleasant things got after midnight.
He was right. The Palace wasn’t as rosy as it appeared to be.
It was the longest night of my life. I didn’t even realize that it was already Thanksgiving, that the Cowboys sucked the big tit against the Chargers...none of it.
But then, the next mornin’ came to pass...”
November 24, 2017 - 7:30
In the Palace assembly hall…
On the morning after Thanksgiving, James Gilmore found himself being nothing more than a face in a crowd of five hundred other Palace members that were seated in the room that also doubled as the main chow hall.
They were sorted into four clubs, each with their own jersey and trait--the Cowboys, representing true grit, the Lions, representing unbridled passion, the Broncos, representing pure skill, and the Patriots, representing sheer cunning. It was truly a close-knit environment, as all four clubs battled it out every year for the institution’s top prize, The Golden Wheel--a large trophy in the shape of an old nautical sailing ship wheel.
“A-ten...HUT! Headmaster on the deck!,” the sergeant-at-arms hollered, prompting the crowd to go silent and stand at attention as Mr. Malakova marched onto a makeshift stage and took his place behind a microphone. “Please sit down,” the white-suited headmaster commanded with a smile on his face. “Before the warm and hearty breakfast begins, I have a few announcements to make. First off, I would like to be the first to welcome our newest members to the Palace. You are ALL “lost souls,” victims of circumstances beyond your control, and…,” Mr. Malakova kept on rambling to his audience's chagrin.
A man, in his mid-20s and wearing a Cowboys jersey, whispered into James’ ear, “‘ey newbie, I bet hearin’ The Old Man talk’s makin’ your dick nice and hard.” “Unless if ya think your rod's bigger than mine, don’t cocktease me dude,” James said with a chuckle. “Pffft yeah,” the Cowboys member laughed back. The spiel from Malakova continued on, “...and those are the core values we strive to uphold at this institution each and every day. Ladies and gentlemen...what are the four pillars?”
The entire gathering stood as one unit, uttering the tenets that were displayed on a large banner hanging on the wall.
“DUTY! HONOR! DISCIPLINE! EXCELLENCE!!”
James sat down sheepishly, and the Cowboys club member whispered to him, “oh you’ll get the gist of it, trust me. The name’s Hudson, Gary Hudson.” “Gilmore. James Gilmore,” the Islander alum responded as the two men shook hands.
”Eventually, all the Palace newbies were sorted into their respective clubs...and lo and behold, I got placed on the Cowboys! It was hard at first, tryin’ to adapt to life as part of a closely-knitted unit that took great pride in their resiliency from disaster. I guess...I fit right into doctrine, as it were.
The first class I would take with my team was going to be interesting. Yet deep in my heart, I never lost sight of who I really wanted to partake in this Palace stuff for.
Yulia would become my personal motivation for success.”
TO BE CONTINUED…
”I’ve had plenty of long nights in stir--nights in which I’d be left with nothin’ except my thoughts, wonderin’ how the next day would turn out yet thinkin’ about what’s goin’ on around me.
I must admit...I didn’t expect to find myself in a place like this. To tell ya the truth, I feel...a bit creeped out by the prospect of bein’ in some strange place you know nothin’ about, bein’ recruited by a stranger in a black hooded robe. Yet I’m here at the Palace, and as ya always say Fiona, I’ve gotta learn to make due with what I’ve got.
Even if I find myself bein’ trapped in a cage with no one to turn to.
The first night I spent at the Palace...was something much bigger, more meaningful than anything I could’ve ever imagined. ‘This is a place where lost dreamers could rediscover their dreams,’ Mr. Malakova said at my orientation. Yet deep within my soul, I could only dream about one person, the one who’s meant the world to me ever since we first met on that glorious ship--Yulia.
Then...I heard screams from another wing in my cellblock, and it was at this point in time when I remembered just how unpleasant things got after midnight.
He was right. The Palace wasn’t as rosy as it appeared to be.
It was the longest night of my life. I didn’t even realize that it was already Thanksgiving, that the Cowboys sucked the big tit against the Chargers...none of it.
But then, the next mornin’ came to pass...”
November 24, 2017 - 7:30
In the Palace assembly hall…
On the morning after Thanksgiving, James Gilmore found himself being nothing more than a face in a crowd of five hundred other Palace members that were seated in the room that also doubled as the main chow hall.
They were sorted into four clubs, each with their own jersey and trait--the Cowboys, representing true grit, the Lions, representing unbridled passion, the Broncos, representing pure skill, and the Patriots, representing sheer cunning. It was truly a close-knit environment, as all four clubs battled it out every year for the institution’s top prize, The Golden Wheel--a large trophy in the shape of an old nautical sailing ship wheel.
“A-ten...HUT! Headmaster on the deck!,” the sergeant-at-arms hollered, prompting the crowd to go silent and stand at attention as Mr. Malakova marched onto a makeshift stage and took his place behind a microphone. “Please sit down,” the white-suited headmaster commanded with a smile on his face. “Before the warm and hearty breakfast begins, I have a few announcements to make. First off, I would like to be the first to welcome our newest members to the Palace. You are ALL “lost souls,” victims of circumstances beyond your control, and…,” Mr. Malakova kept on rambling to his audience's chagrin.
A man, in his mid-20s and wearing a Cowboys jersey, whispered into James’ ear, “‘ey newbie, I bet hearin’ The Old Man talk’s makin’ your dick nice and hard.” “Unless if ya think your rod's bigger than mine, don’t cocktease me dude,” James said with a chuckle. “Pffft yeah,” the Cowboys member laughed back. The spiel from Malakova continued on, “...and those are the core values we strive to uphold at this institution each and every day. Ladies and gentlemen...what are the four pillars?”
The entire gathering stood as one unit, uttering the tenets that were displayed on a large banner hanging on the wall.
“DUTY! HONOR! DISCIPLINE! EXCELLENCE!!”
James sat down sheepishly, and the Cowboys club member whispered to him, “oh you’ll get the gist of it, trust me. The name’s Hudson, Gary Hudson.” “Gilmore. James Gilmore,” the Islander alum responded as the two men shook hands.
”Eventually, all the Palace newbies were sorted into their respective clubs...and lo and behold, I got placed on the Cowboys! It was hard at first, tryin’ to adapt to life as part of a closely-knitted unit that took great pride in their resiliency from disaster. I guess...I fit right into doctrine, as it were.
The first class I would take with my team was going to be interesting. Yet deep in my heart, I never lost sight of who I really wanted to partake in this Palace stuff for.
Yulia would become my personal motivation for success.”
TO BE CONTINUED…
Well howdy there pardner.