We Interrupt Your Regular Programming For Something Awesome...

Why, the Valucre Blog of Course. 

Howdy folks, welcome again to your weekly update of that blog that you all should know and (I hope) love, written by yours truly for your reading pleasure. This blog post comes at you between me writing the blog and writing out microscopic notes for my exam next week- yes, when I say microscopic, we're talking size 4 font on that badboy. Because when they say one page front and back (handwritten or typed) I believe in space economy. 

I hope NaNoWriMo is going well for all of you who are doing it this year. As soon as I get this blog wrapped up I have to go work on meeting my daily quota- so wish me luck, yes? Anyway, let's get this blog post kicking and I'll see you all in Valucre. :)

What's Happening Valucre?

The Chosen: Round Three Continues- On another pause...

Genesaris Dark Festival: Prizes- The carnival is over but you can cash out for your prizes.

Word Association Writing Contest- Quick, simple, easy. Looking for a brief contest to join or something to give you a break from NaNoWriMo? Try this contest on for size. Take the list of words and use them in a 1,000 word or less story. Supernal picks the winner. Can you do it?

NaNoWriMo- Speaking of NaNo, how is it going for everyone? Well, not only is there the group mentioned last week, but you can also go to this thread here to give support and get support. A lot of people are doing it, so perhaps you should too. In fact, First blog update of the month in December, I am going to feature all you awesome people here. How's that for cool?

Adaveil- Fresh Lore and Untaken Quest- Adaveil is a newer board looking to get everyone involved. There are quests as well as roles in the royalty and politics available for your taking- so take a look!

The Ragged Winter- A fine opportunity going to waste. People mention enjoying the canonical RPs where they get to have an affect on changes, so here is something just like that! This RP takes place in the past and covers the history of the rider of the golden dragon from the Dragonmerge storylines. You start at his beginning and RP his adventures to the end of his journal. There is a role for someone to play as that rider and as support characters. If this sounds appealing to you, step on up.

Nich'e, a New Sub Forum in Terrenus- Got to admit, this looks really cool. A second shoutout to make sure people give this new real estate some proper notice, this board has already had some real work and dedication put into it and I know it's creator has been asking for advice on how to make sure something unique and fun is created. I can tell this person really enjoys their monsters and hopes to make it enjoyable for you as well, so go have a look!

A Monstrous Disaster in Mezthaluen!- Something strange has entered Mezthaluen off one of their ships and now they are wreaking havoc! These creatures drain the life out of people and consume their brains, becoming tougher, smarter, and better spellcasters. They are hard as hell to bring down and will require some strategy and teamwork. Big rewards for those who show up and get the job done fast- are you up for the challenge?

Featured Read(s) of the Week- 

I guess I went and promised two of these this week. Got one picked out last week and did not get to it, so I will hold my end up and find a second to go with it. Two features in one week (I really got to quit running behind on things).

Last Week's Pick: I chose this one because of the array of different participants already putting this one together and the way that the DM for this thread makes things turn weird right quick. This is one of those quest RPs you know is bound to end poorly for at least some of the people giving it a shot, so be prepared for things to be come much more twisted.

Congratulations to aSimpleMusician, Rin, AlphaCentaurus, PandaHat, Aleksei, Deviant, Dodgen, Vasanti, and The Hummingbird for being part of  the pick of the (Last)week.

The Tower of Horrors- Entering this tower is never something that comes out on someone's list of 'good ideas', but every now and then someone decides to go ahead and take on the extreme risks for the incredible rewards that follow. A caravan transports displaced travelers and a man dressed in royal pomp who have all decided to enter the tower. An old friend of the man shows up, about the same time as an opportunstic watcher spies the group gathering to take on the tower. Another mysterious one joins the group and soon you have an entire entourage headed for the inside of the ominous place. Introductions and pleasentries asside, it comes time for the intrepid group to take the plunge and enter the dreaded tower. The Hummingbird kicks off the weird factor straightaway, giving a memorable post that still leaves me with chills. The reactions of the others are on par with expectation, and more is surely to come. 

Pick of this week: I liked this one straightaway for the amount of work put into building the plot structure and then letting others join in and take off with it. There was some definite creepy stuff added as well, a fitting thing given that it was written in the month of October. The diverse case of characters definitely makes this a more interesting read, especially when two of those people are a Witch Doctor and a scientist. The thread is definitely a fun and worthwhile read.

Congratulations to DarkHeir, Refrigerator, Syncopy, Khan, Gohrik Trisona, and Spyfox31 for being the writers of this week's featured thread.

This is Why Liches Are Dangerous- A dialogue between two evil powers within a massive, malevolent organization converse about planning, and then one leaves to enslave the populace of a town outside Dougton. The Lich brings on the creep factor by callously killing off an entire family, cracking witty jokes and using banter as he goes around snuffing the life from people and bringing them back as undead slaves. He builds his armies up just as the heroes arrive, a ragtag group of individuals with all differing strengths and approaches to handling this problem. The interactions alone are worth the read of the thread. 

Lore of the Week!

This Week's Feature: Gesa, Iselyr

At a Glance: 

• Leader:  Four leaders for all four corners of the plains: Hora, a powerful shaman, claimed the north; Urglak, a fierce warrior, claimed the South; Lo’ar, another shaman, claimed the West; and Suuel, a huntsman, claimed the East.
• Population: Smattering of Barbarian Tribes
• Defenses: 
• Powerful barbarians with no central location (nomadic)
• Hot Spots: 
• None

Canonical Occurrences by Members:

•  None

Available Quests:

• None currently.

Brief Summary of Lore:

Taken from Lore: Before the ancient war known as the Fall of Gorand, the rolling plains of Gesa were home to none, spare for the many wild beasts that freely roamed the terrain. In fact, it wasn’t until the smoldering aftermath of the costly war that Gesa had seen her first signs of humanity in the form of the several barbarian tribes that still call the plains home to this date.

The Odaa'na were, at first, a vast organization of barbaric tribes scattered throughout the Nyssian Mountain chain. Unfortunately, over decades of steadily dwindling food supplies and an onslaught of unexplainably harsher winters, the Odaa'na found their numbers becoming few and far between. What’s more, they also found themselves on the brink of war against the tyrant-king of Le’Chery: Ethan, which formed a rift within the Odaa'na that threatened to tear it in two.

The largest tribe of the Odaa'na, the Otero, vehemently protested any involvement in the war. The barbarians had their own very real, very dangerous issues to deal with; the last thing that they needed was a war, which very well could have pushed them to extinction. The Norsar, on the other hand, suggested that the barbarians had no choice but to assist the resistance and fight Ethan’s legions. Otherwise, he would cast a treacherous shadow over all of Iselyr, and no land would be safe.

After months of deliberation and heated political feuds, the Odaa'na dissolved. The Otero, along with their supporters, fled the snowy mountains and headed southeast, to the coast, while the Norsar rallied alongside the resistance and headed south to meet Ethan’s legion in combat.

Ethan’s vast army all but crushed the resisting forces in the initial skirmishes of the war, and the Norsar barbarians found themselves pushed even further south. No longer being pursued by Le’Chery’s forces, having been driven many miles from the city’s borders, the barbarians happened by the lush, ripe plains of Gesa. Still, despite this new utopia, the Norsar still had many troubles still facing them.

Opposed to the political strife that had caused the major split of the Odaa'na, the remaining barbarians of the Norsar decided it would be best, for the people, if they split into smaller groups that lived separated from each other. Each of these four groups occupied a cardinal territory and was governed by the strongest of their group:

Hora, a powerful shaman, claimed the north; Urglak, a fierce warrior, claimed the South; Lo’ar, another shaman, claimed the West; and Suuel, a huntsman, claimed the East. Central Gesa, or the Heart, as the barbarians call it, was designated for the chieftains of each tribe to meet and convene on subjects of utter importance.

Generally speaking, the tribes of Gesa are relatively nomadic. And while they do possess an innate skill for agriculture, they often prefer to hunt the wild beasts that also make the rolling plains their home.

Newly Awarded!

We got some awards for you this week!

Activity Award: Ayden & Suta!

Model Role-Player: Ayden!

Congrats you two!

Valucre Blog Challenge!

Well, wouldn't you know, someone took us up on this week's challenge. I only got one, so only one can be featured. This person asked to be anonymous for this one, so no credit given. But thank you to the submitter for letting us see how this exercise played out!

"I'm an average person.

When I was born, my father gave me my own name because he couldn't bare the thought of using my accomplishments as an extension of his own. He was considerate enough to allow me the freedom of identity without having to be constantly reminded of him, good or bad. All in all, there was never any bad. To this day we're still extremely close, proof of just how much time he spent with and invested in me.

I was lucky enough to reside in a neutral, secular household, where instead of giving me answers my parents only asked me questions in an attempt to create a genuine perspective of crystalline unforced-upons. My childhood amounted to nothing more than the pursuit of individuality, for I grew weary of being told and forced to recognize how much I fit in. I just wanted to be different the entire time, but it wasn't because I cared about what people thought of me. Every year on Valentine's Day, I was the only child in class who always received a valentine. After finding out none of the other students could participate for religious reasons, how exactly I received so many is still a mystery to me, but it did wonders for my self-esteem. I can remember every single birthday and Christmas I ever had, because my family celebrated all of them. Same with every other holiday however menial, every single one.

At school I always bullied kids before they had the chance to bully me, but if they ever got that chance, I always stood up for myself. It helped that I'm pretty tall for my age, and I've always looked much older than I really am.

I've never understood someone's cause for the aversion to speaking. I'm grateful that talking is the very first thing ever expected of me from others, every day. It is without a doubt my favorite medium of communication, and throughout all my recent introspection, I've come to realize that every problem can be solved through the act of revealing it to others through reactionary, emotional chatter and following hugs. I love being asked 'What's wrong?' just for the chance at having to explain it, but people don't ask it often so I'm never given the opportunity.

My favorite body part would be my teeth, no contest. I've actually structured the way I speak to consciously show others how proud I am of them, and in every picture ever taken of me since I was 15 (which there are many of), I've always had an open mouth while smiling.

As I've grown older, I've been gaining friends instead of losing them. Nowadays I never spend any of my time alone and I go out to have fun every chance I get. When the day came for me to move out of my parent's house, which I did at a very late age, I did so by my own choice and my family was begging me to stay. They think very highly of me and check to see how I'm doing all the time, and because of that, I've cultivated a healthy self-confidence. 

Even at a young age I knew that I couldn't find self-fulfillment through the recognition of my value from another, so I didn't care to date, though I had plenty of chances. Every girl I ever had feelings for to the point of being 17 had always professed their interest in me, so whenever dating afterward, I always left them first because I was confident I could find someone else who understands or is willing to understand me. Since I had such a headstart, in every relationship of mine I've been far more experienced than my partner, so I was the mature one capable of making all the right decisions.

I'm not a virgin because deeply-rooted systematic sexual repression was given no time or space to hide within me.

I was never much for using coping mechanisms for self-expression as methods to escape my reality, I've always preferred outdoor sports to sitting in front of a computer, and I never had the patience to practice musical instruments. I'd much rather watch TV instead.

I use Facebook all the time. I have a nice car and a nice home because I was rigidly instructed to budget my earnings, I'm healthier than I could ever hope to be, I make a decent wage for intellectually satisfying work, I have seen the evidence of my Lord and Savior pulling the strings of fate from on high, and I'm on a clear path to bettering myself as an individual.

In looking at the world as an entity and my immediate surroundings to be a reasonable attempt at society, I'm perfectly content with what I see.

I couldn't be happier, because I'm an average person."

Challenge of the Week: Write the end to a story and only the end. Yep, no writing a beginning, middle, or even a climax. Create a quick story in your mind and then end it in a profound, jarring, or just surprising way. Write it in such a way that it's ending itself would make us want to go back and read that story. Beginning that story can be a bitch- well, see how it ends instead (Credit goes to Cracked.com for this idea). Write anything from one line to about 1 final page's worth (a page is about 250 words).

Post it to your blog and I just might link it! If you want to remain anon, you can send it to me and if it is eye catching, I will put it here. (Eventually, I might just make a blog specifically for this :P)

New Members and Returns!

Welcome:

Warewolves:
In with a poem and a name with an odd spelling- it's like werewolf, only in this case you are a wolf with wares, right? Right?? Tell me I'm right, because I hate being wrong. >> Just kidding, just kidding (but seriously. ><....). I enjoyed your little poem and do hope that you have in fact found your home. Welcome to Valucre, it's certainly my home!

Owloftheice:
Another one with an interesting name, only in this case I am imagining an owl stuck inside an ice-block- man, that would really suck for the owl. I am sure you have a different interpretation though, so that's okay. Anyway, it's perfectly fine that you are socially awkward, because half of us are anyway- hell, some of us are just plain awkward! Love of RP is definitely a great quality to have, especially when you are joining an RP site, heh. As for your other loves, well, sounds like you are in the right place. Welcome to Valucre!

TheSRD:
Okay, showing my geekiness here, but when I see "The SRD" I immediately think of the D&D SRD website- can you tell I do a lot of RPing? Hell, gotta have those online resources, it helps! Anyway, you say you have been RPIng on Deviantart  they do that there? I had no idea! Learn something new everyday. It seems like RP has sprouted in almost all forms of social media, which is actually pretty damn cool if you ask me. 

TJacker:
Howdy! Looks like you already found a little bit of a spark, but don't let the little quibble deter you, we're all pretty laid back for the most part. I sympathize with your graveyard situation because I too got lost on the old nightshift gig and it's not really fun. You operate on weird hours and find it hard to stay connected to people. Luckily for me, Valucre is hopping at all hours, so I always have someone to shoot the shit with while at work. Welcome to Val!

Fate Destiny:
Howdy once again! I already gave you a bit of an extensive welcome with helpful bits, so I only have so much left to say. Welcome to Valucre, enjoy your stay!

Returns:

Pseudomonarchia:
Welcome back! Hope you get to stick around this time, looks like you have a lot of ambitions that can help generate some RP. 

Black Magic:
AKA Dedicated or Even Addicted- see, I pay attention, I called you by your other name. Wait, that isn't supposed to be another name for you to go by? Uhh... never mind then...

Vixen:
Welcome back, hope you get your spark back so you can get back into producing some fine RP. It always sucks when our muse goes off a takes a hiatus. 

Erzatz:
Man, you have had a terrible time with keeping track of your user login information. I am not surprised, as you mention that you find all the buttons a bit distracting as well- you too have a 'squirrel!' problem! It's okay, happens to the best of us. You just got to work on----SHINY!

Troutt:
Troutt with two t's, it's been a while! I see the issue must have been crapped out computer- I really hate those. Welcome back friend, hope you get to do some serious RPing this time around. ;)

Odd, we have the same amount of new people as we do returning members. The new member count is a little below average (;-;) but the returning members count is more than double the average, so this is just a week of returning folks instead! Welcome back everyone and welcome to the new folks!

Birthdays of the Week?

So, here are the week's listed birthdays. PLEASE, keep in mind that if you do not make birthday's on your profile listed and public, they will not show up on the Calendar. If they are not on the Calendar, I have no way of knowing about it and therefore no way of adding it here! If you want a shoutout for your Bday, be sure to make it viewable!

• Hopingfordestiny (Nov 1st!)
• ClarkKent (Nov 2nd!)
• The Hummingbird (Nov 3rd!)
• Estillum (Nov 3rd!)
• Zedkiel (Nov 3rd!)
• Somniloquist (Nov 3rd!)
• zanderman (Nov 4th!)
• k1b22 (Nov 5th!)
• Sharpnails (Nov 5th!)
• High Chieftain (Nov 5th!)
• AClockwerkKroww (Nov 6th!)
• Topeye (Nov 6th!)
• Katsujirou (Nov 7th!)
• Fallen (Nov 7th!)
• Lestat de Lioncourt (Nov 7th!)

Happy birthday all you fine Valucreans!

Other Highlights?

Bah, these highlights, the deepest thorn in my side. Only for my love, my love of Valucre.

Mark All Forums Read- Ever just not want to see all the new posts? Ever get that weird error where Vbulletin refuses to mark a subscription read even though you viewed the thread, and post, 80 times? Well, that second one actually happens to me nearly weekly. If you have these issues or something similar, you can click the 'Mark Forums Read' link beneath What's New and clear it right up.

Did You Know-  About VB donors? Yep, if you need some VB, some of our richer members are willing to help you out for a good cause. Read about this Did You Know here, it gives you The details. Want more Did You Knows- go here.

Closing Thoughts?

Well, I try to keep the blog on the lighter side of things and this one was no exception- it seems like every time I sat down to chip at the blog I was feeling chipper and well, it just naturally translates. I like the happier tone though, as RP is a hobby and your hobby should be fun! Well, unless you are a hobbyist negative person maybe, in that case, you should be as negative and grumpy as possible. But who the hell would want to do that?

All that said, I am bringing down the lightness back down to the realm of the real to use this week’s closing thoughts to talk about something serious, and frankly, something feel that is important.

There was a stickied blurb put up in the Newcomers’ forum warning you to exercise some good judgment in who you choose to interact with from Valucre and the decisions you make. She’s got it in the right when she tells you about the manipulation one might do to make another person make bad choices, but I think this needs to go further. Hell, I know it needs to go further because I deal with this in my workplace –all- -the- -time-.

I’m sure you’ve heard it already (if you have been around more than a few weeks at least) that I work in a Forensics Psychiatric Hospital- we house the criminally insane. Given our population, we have a varied mix of people who suffer from genuine mental illnesses with a smattering of people who did a good enough job of ‘faking it’ (we call it Malingering) to get into the system. Because of how our laws work, once they’re here, we can’t send them to jail. We have them until we discharge them, and we’re not supposed to discharge them unless they are found not a danger to themselves or others.

Yeah, they end up here for the long stretch.

Among these malingerers, you find our highly sociopathic/psychopathic patients. The masters of manipulation. Smooth talkers, perfect liars, your best friend and then your worst enemy. They seem perfectly fine, friendly even, so easy to get along with. They show you some ropes and even help you out a bit. Not so bad right? Well, you clearly don’t understand the process of Downing a Duck.

I suppose I should give some explanation for this blurb and the warning up in the newcomer’s section before going on. I don’t want to get into the gritty details, but we received warning that a newly registered member was someone who was targeting women, getting them to go nude on cam, and then blackmailing them with the pictures. This set them up in a perpetual cycle of fear and regret, feeling trapped because he had those pictures and could leak them any time. Worse yet- he will. I’m not speaking for this individual, but from the pathology of this profile: They will do exactly what they threaten, the moment you are not compliant.

And in their eyes, it is all your fault.

This member was removed, but it brought us to the realization that something needed to be said, because these people are out there. Anyone remember the sad case of Amanda Todd? Perhaps a very extreme case, but these are the kind of people who go out and prey on people. They are predators and they will use you and abuse you. It’s easy to tell you to watch out for people who are trying to manipulate you, but my feelings on this is that this needs to go a step further. I want you to know what you are looking for when dealing with someone like this. I want people to be able to defend themselves against anyone using these tactics to sucker them (male or female) and to have information to give to others.

A very illustrative case is titled “Downing a Duck”. I used the term already, and it is a term that originated in the prison system. I am going to paste the story here because I cannot find a location I feel is both safe and reliable (so it will stay up) so I am going to paste it here. It is a little long, but the read is compelling. Yes, this is 100% a true story.

Forgive me if the formatting/editing is not perfect- I had to copy it from elsewhere where it was not put up in the cleanest way. I have a PDF of it, but it is in image form. So, this is what I got.

DOWNING A DUCK

  

Cracking the Shell Takes Time and Effort

You have to go about developing a duck in a manner that creates very little suspicion. A man would be a fool to just walk up to a joint cop and ask him to bring in “grass,” booze or money. You have to go slow, which takes time and effort.

The dudes who get caught are the ones who get over-anxious and move too fast. The first thing you gotta do is watch. You know, things like the way a person acts, walks, stands, sits, or dresses can tell you a hell of a lot about them. Things they laugh or smile at; what makes them sad or angry; their likes and dislikes; this is all important information if you really want to develop a duck.

You gotta start small if you want to get a person to a point where they’ll do just about anything you say. The last duck I developed was natural. Naïve, shy, friendly as hell, a do-gooder who could be made to believe anything. You see, prisons don’t know how to warn their people. They gotta say, “Be friendly, be nice,” but they don’t know how to tell them when they’re going overboard. So I’m gonna tell this story like he was my duck. At any rate I started my duck with nothing more than getting him to give me pencils and

paper in excess of what he was supposed to give. Here’s how I developed him.

Developing the Duck

I watched this cop for a long time. He had all the traits. He was uneasy around his boss, pushed the nice guy bit so strong on us he overlooked violation of some small unit rules in other words, he didn’t take care of business. He couldn’t put across his orders with any kind of firmness, and the cons were givin’ him a rough row to hoe. When you find a guy like this, you can pretty well figure you got a duck--but you can be too hasty, you gotta be sure.

I sent some friends of mine to get him involved in philosophical discussion to find out where his head was and to push him a little to see how far he’d let things go. They talked about how bad other cops treated them and how they hoped he didn’t become like all other cops. He agreed, and told them about things he’d seen the other “bulls” do that supported their reason for disliking cops. While the talk was going on, some of the guys broke rules like stepping inside another con’s cell, putting marks on the wall, suggesting playing poker--all minor rule violations.

The officer said nothing. Each time he started to leave and tell some guy to knock it off they’d praise the hell out of him and he’d get back into the conversation. Me, I just watched. The guy was very easily distracted and we build on the nice guy image. He didn’t look like a cop--sloppy dresser, half done jobs, and he’d come unglued if someone said he did a poor job, or if someone didn’t particularly like him. When this happened he’d get in a “downer” conversation telling the cons how no one understood him. They’d agree, and build his ego. They got him on a first name basis--it’s harder to tell a guy “NO” when you’re that friendly.

When I was absolutely certain that this guy was the one I wanted to develop, I had his unit orderlies do a sloppy job so he wouldn’t pass inspection. The sergeant gave him hell. When the sarg left, I went over to the guy and said, “You know what, Pete, you didn’t have that coming. The sarg doesn’t know you like we do. Out of all the cops in this joint, you’re the only one the cons trust. Remember, we told you where to find the convict home brew. He didn’t remember you made that bust. I’ve been talking with the other cons in this wing and we’re going to make you look good from now on.

My duck kept raving on how that sergeant has been on his back; that he just can’t seem to do anything right. So I told him, “I got extra time each day and I’ll fix this place so you’ll not only pass inspection, but you’ll get a commendation for the cleanest wing in the joint. I ain’t gonna let no crummy sergeants talk to you that way anymore.” The cop said he would be grateful.

As the days and weeks passed, I worked my tail off for this joker. He began passing his inspection with honors. He had the habit of leaving his lunch box open or his cigarettes laying on his desk so I began helping myself. I didn’t over do it, and he said nothing, so I asked him for a couple of full writing pads and a few pencils. He was supposed to give only one pencil, usually used, and only a couple of sheets of paper. With a long explanation and unsteady voice he turned me down. Saying “No” was hard for him. I looked hurt and said, “Oh, I’m sorry, I wasn’t thinking. I thought you knew I liked to relax and write after working at my regular job, then cleaning this unit for you. I only asked you because most of the guys in the wing told me you understood things like that--that you like to see us doing constructive things. Oh, well, it ain’t no big thing.” I tried to let my expression say my feelings were hurt, I was sorry he didn’t trust me, and I guess he was like all the other cops. With my head down I sauntered to my room.

Shortly Pete was at my cell door. He made sure no one was looking then slid a dozen new pencils and three new writing tablets under my door. I said, “Pete!, you’re the greatest! Just like all the guys say, you really try and help convicts stay out of trouble.” I worked extra hard that next week winning Pete praise from the sergeant who formerly cussed him out. Pete was pleased and said, “Thank you, Terry.” He used my first name, a sign I was developing him properly.

Several months had passed now and we had become good friends. I sought personal, financial, and marital advice, which he freely gave. And since he liked baseball, I liked baseball. He disliked hunting, so I disliked hunting. Now you gotta be careful with this too. If you have too much in common, that’s not good, so you let him talk you into believing as he does. For example, he asked me if I believed in God. I seemed hesitant and confuse. I let him convince me there was a God.

You gotta remember when developing a duck that you’re always the student and he’s the teacher. You appear to be fascinated by his knowledge. You make him think you kneed his help; that he’s making you a better person; and that you wanta be like him. I had this joker bringing me candy, magazines, cigars and he mailed a couple of birthday cards for me. I always told him he shouldn’t do things like that ‘cause he could get in trouble and then I would hint around for something else I needed. Pretty soon he’d bring it, but I made him feel I was looking out for his welfare.

Then I figured it was about time I got a little more serious with this guy. One day a fight broke out in the wing and my duck tried to stop it. He wound up facing a couple of cons with knives who said they hated cops and were going to kill him. He was scared spitless. I let him stay in that situation for a while and finally rushed in, got between the cop and the cons and talked them out of hurting him. I never saw a guy so grateful. Right at that time this duck said he’d do just about anything for me. I told him friends needed to stick together; that no one should expect favors for doing what was right. That night I used Pete’s own cigarettes to pay off the guys who staged the fight for me.

Sometime later I showed this officer a letter from my sister stating the wife of a guy in our wing had been killed in an accident. The con was a friend of mine so I asked my duck to tell the guy. He couldn’t do it because he gets too emotional he said, so I wound up telling the inmate myself.

When your grooming a duck you are limited only by your own imagination. Here are two situations that I set-up to learn something about the dude. The fight told me fear and friendship could get me what I wanted from this cop, and the second added sympathy to the list.

Everyone in the wing was sad over the loss of this convict’s wife, especially the cop, so the next day I brought my duck a sympathy card signed by most of the cons in the unit and told him they had taken up a collection for the con’s kids. I told him I knew it was against the rules, and that convicts ain’t supposed to have money, but this was different. This would do a lot of good. “There ought to be some rules we can break,” I said. “Most of us convicts have spent a lifetime taking things from people, and the one time we want to give, there’s a rule against it. It just doesn’t seem right!” The cop was concerned over the amount of money with the card and that he might get caught.

At about this point my personality began changing a little. I had to let this guy know he had already done some dumb things that could get him into trouble--to do so in a way that showed we were still good friends but that I meant business. So I reminded him of a few past situations. For the first time, he didn’t quite know how to take me. I immediately got nice again. I said, “Ah, come on, it would do us a lot of good to give for once in our lives, you can’t deny a person that kind of inner satisfaction. Any doctor will tell you it’s good therapy. Besides, the penalty for taking a letter out with money in it ain’t no greater than the ones you’ve already taken out. Don’t get me wrong, I would never tell, but I have had some trouble keeping some of these other cats in the unit from telling the sergeant that’s always on your back.

He was beginning to feel the pressure. The confusion on his face was obvious. He wasn"t sure where I stood. As I continued talking, I slid the envelope into his inside jacket pocket. “There ain’t no way you’ll be caught. They don’t search cops like they do inmates. Gosh, man, you can’t let little kids starve just ’cause their old man is in the joint. Those kids ain’t done no wrong. There ain’t a con in this place who would understand the deep hurt a person goes through when someone you love gets killed. I thought you were different. You don’t have to worry, we took care of those people who might have snitched to the sarg. No way are we going to let you get in trouble. Besides, I’ll never ask for a favor like this again. It’s just that those kids…” I walked away and left him to think about what I had just said.

I had been my old friendly self for a few days so my duck could become comfortable over taking the letter and money out. Then I told him some relatives of my friend--the deceased woman’s husband--would be sending a package to his house. The package would contain nothing but prayer beads for the grieving inmate. “Don’t open the box ’till you get here,” I told him. “we need the address to thank these people, and they were really grateful for that money.” He agreed. When the package came, I told the cop I’d show him the contents later and he said never mind he didn’t want to know. His voice told me I needed to butter him up a little because we both knew he was over the barrel. I had him right where I wanted him. But I still had to develop him more deeper. I knew he was in debt on the streets so I got the training officer’s clerk (an inmate) to add extra time on the dude’s pay records. The cop appreciated the extra money and said nothing.

Because I let him know I was responsible for the little favor, he became more friendly, but he was still cautious with me. By this time I was about the only friend the cop had. Sometime back his real friends began telling the guy he was being too friendly with convicts. I couldn’t let that go on, so I started a rumor that this cat was living with an inmate’s wife. He came under investigation. Cops like to go with winners, not losers. This guy was a loser so left him alone. He had to talk to someone, and I was the only person available. I had the guy right where I wanted him, for sure! It took time but you gotta develop a duck carefully if you want it to pay off. Now the guy was ready for the big one. He had to do anything I said or I tossed him to the wolves.

Turning the Duck into a Golden Goose

I had done a lot of time in my life and was tired of prison. I wanted to get out. I’d been thinking about this for a long time now. Getting out had become an obsession with me. My duck and I were about the same size so I got him off to the side and said, “You don’t know it yet, but I’m going on parole, and you’re going to help me get there!” My voice was stern and commanding. He looked confused, but he knew I meant business. “I want you to bring me a cop’s uniform!” We had joked about this kind of thing before and he hoped I was still kidding.

With all the hatred I could muster I shouted, “Look you stupid S.O.B., you ain’t got no choice! Every convict in this wing will snitch you off. You took out letters, money, you brought in things we still have stored to use as evidence against you, and you’ve been accepting money from the state under false pretenses. Now you bring in that damn uniform or you’re dead, sucker!” I stood glaring at him and let what I had just said sink in for a moment. Then I handed him a letter from the people who had received the money in the letter he had taken out. It stated they were willing to testify against him. He had no choice. He had to so as I told him. “Listen, you rotten bastard,” I continued, “you bring a shirt tomorrow, trousers the next day and so on until I have the complete uniform. DO YOU UNDERSTAND?!”

The duck brought a piece of the uniform each day in his lunch box. As I received them I rolled each new item and neatly placed it in the bottom of the foot locker. Then I told this dumb cop to call me off my job when ever the institution search team came into the wing. “Make some excuse like I didn’t clean my room” I told him. I knew if I were on hand when my room was being searched, I could talk the searcher out of going to far into my locker.

Some cops do their job and look at everything in the room, but most of them don’t like searching and can easily be talked out of looking in places where a lot of work is involved. You know, there’s a psychology behind handling a searcher. One of the first things convicts learn when they first come to a joint is how to beat the search team. Like, if you want to hide a major contraband in your room, then you leave a minor contraband item so it can be discovered. The dude searching will usually abandon the search when he finds the piece you salted, and he leaves feeling he’s done a fine job. You got to be just a little bit smarter than they are to survive in prison.

On the other hand there is that occasional sharp cop who can’t be fooled. When this happens, you’re in trouble. So the way you handle this guy is you get all the cons in the area to complain about how the guy dumps stuff on your floors, tears your bedding, etc. If the complaints keep coming about the guy, joint big shots take the attitude that “where there’s smoke there must be fire,” and they give him a job change. Can you beat that? The dude gets punished because he’s doing a better job that anyone else.

One morning my duck called and said the search team was going to be in his unit. I rushed and stood nonchalantly by my cell door. A cop was already in my room searching. I was polite, joked with him, pointed to an area in my room he failed to search. I even complimented him on his thoroughness. When he came to the foot locker I said, “Man, I’m sorry, it’s going to take you hours to get through all the junk in that box.” By seeding this thought he gets tired just looking at the job. They’ll usually just give the box a once over lightly and quit. I pointed to a master list of things in the footlocker that was taped to the underside of the lid. I said that because the box was so full the list might make the job more bearable; that it was packed military style; and it took me hours to do it. “But you got your job to do,” I emphasized, “and I don’t mind repacking, even though it will take me most of the day--go ahead on.”

The dude was impressed by my politeness and complimentary attitude and he was convincing himself that a con who encourages a thorough search is probably clean. I did ask him, however, that as he took things out of the foot locker to place them on the bed--if he didn’t mind; and that he could glance at the list to see how orderly I kept my things.

By this, I knew two things would take place in his mind: his eyes would check the list as I suggested; when he

consistently found things in order, he’d feel he’s wasting his time; and the old buddy association I was developing would help convince him I was hiding nothing. So I figured after removing a few things he would conclude the search.

It happened just as I thought.. He removed the top row of clothing and about half of the next, then said, “O.K., you’re clear,” and he moved on to the next cell.“Whew.” Breathing a sigh of relief, I decided this searcher came a little close and I had better put my escape plan in action soon. Tomorrow morning, I thought, was as good a time as any.

My duck comes on duty at 7:45 a.m. At 8:00 a.m. the night shift goes home, and at the same time there is a major work release for prisoners: the corridor is always crowded at that time. I figured I had 15 minutes to get out of my room, slip into the broom closet, get into the uniform then melt into the crowd unnoticed. I would go to the exit door next to the control room where a sergeant is supposed to identify everyone leaving and stand with the group of officers waiting to go home.

The procedure for releasing officers from the security area at the joint is done like this: The sergeant at the control room looks at everyone wanting into the sallyport (a sallyport is a holding area in between two locked steel doors). When he’s satisfied he’s only releasing staff, he pushes a button which opens the first of two electronically controlled doors. Everyone enter and the first door closes. Before the second door is opened, an officer looks at everyone to assure the sergeant made no mistakes. Once the second door is opened they cross a patio to the administration building where another sallyport exists, and the procedure is repeated. When everyone passes through the administration building, there is a final sallyport where a tower man and a sergeant make sure the proper people enter and leave.

In each of those sallyports, the employees who opened the doors were nightshift people and I had suspected that because they were tired and sleepy, they released people not on the basis of positive identification, but because they were a uniform. Well, at any rate, tomorrow morning I would find out how correct my suspicions were.

The night passed slowly. I had a difficult time sleeping, so I spent most of the night going over and over every detail of the escape plan. Finally it was 7:45 a.m. I heard the lock door snap, and I knew it was my duck letting me out. I grabbed the uniform and rushed to the broom closet. The uniform fit like a glove! It’s funny how clothes can make you feel. I suddenly felt clean, almost like I wished I were on the side of the law and not a criminal. Then I thought of my stupid duck and decided I was better of as a hood.

During morning work release, the day shift officers stand in the center of the corridor as inmates pass up and down the long hallway on their way to job assignments. Staff members going home walk along one wall to the control room and they are usually looking into the units being released; their faces are away from the corridor officers in the corridor, so it would not be suspicious if I did the same. I started out of the unit. As I passed the officers’ stations, I took my duck’s lunch box for realism. He started to object and I said, “Don’t say it, you dummy, or you’re dead.” I slipped into the crowd and made my way to the control. The sergeant was peering through the mirror identifying people. Then suddenly the bolt snapped and the electric door opened. Everyone stepped into the sallyport, and the door closed behind us. I kept my head down slightly so no one could get a direct look at my face. The officer looked everyone over from a small unbreakable window, and he was being careful. I thought it might be over at this point. The officer’s phone rang, some people were turning in and drawing keys, and in his momentary distraction, he opened the second door.

When I was crossing the patio to the administration building, an officer coming on duty stopped me and asked me for a match. I felt panic surge through my veins. If the group got through the first door without me I would be alone, and alone, an unfamiliar officer was certain to be challenged. I searched my pockets quickly and said, “Sorry, guess I’m out of matches, too.” I hurried and caught the group just as the first door opened. The desk officer was flirting with a little blond secretary and just let everyone pass because they were all uniform personnel. The last sallyport was about 75 feet in front of us and the hardest one to get through. An officer in the tower by the entrance building--main gate as it was called--would identify the people leaving. If he recognized everyone, he would open the first gate. Once we’re inside the sallyport, the main gate sergeant checks everyone a final time before the gate to freedom can be opened.

As the group approached this final sallyport my heart was in my throat. I began to think for the first time there was a possibility of my making it, even though I knew this would be the hardest hurdle. Everyone had now reached the gate. I kept my head low without being obvious about it. The tower man was scanning faces. Then he shouted, “You there, look up!” I didn’t know if he was talking to me but assumed he was. I shadowed my face with my hand like I was trying to keep the sum from blinding me and looked up, slightly waving my hand at him to indicate I recognized him. A long moment passed, then the door slid open. While waiting for the final check, I noticed a large group of officers standing in the main gate sergeants’ station ready to be admitted after the night crew were identified and released. I heard someone in our group say they were new officers going on an orientation tour.

The gate sergeant’s eyes were scanning the group. I was trying to be inconspicuous by looking slightly away from him. It seemed an eternity of silence was being lived in those few moments. Then, my world fell apart when he shouted, “You, the officer with his back to me, come over here. I approached the window he was looking through and this time I looked him right in the eye. I felt disappointed and angry over being so close and getting caught, and had about decided to suddenly hit the fence even though I knew the tower man would shoot at me. I was mad enough to take that chance.

The sergeant asked, “What are you doing there? You’re supposed to be with these new officers out here.”

Thinking quickly, I replied in an apologetic voice, “I’m sorry sarg. But I thought the training officer said to meet him in the administration building.” “Who the hell let you in anyway?” The sergeant sorta growled in a tone indicating he was irritated with me. He opened the gate, and as I entered the gate house, he stood in front of me and demanded, “Now you stay with your group, understand?”

“Yes--I will--sir. But do I have time to run to my car before the training officer gets here? I forgot my I.D. card.”The sergeant looked disgusted. “There’s one in every group. All right, make it fast, the lieutenant doesn’t like to be kept waiting!”

I hurried to the far end of the main parking lot. Behind the last row of cars was a fence separating a corn field. I dropped to my knees behind a car and crawled on my stomach and slid under the barbed wire fence to the safety of the tall corn stalks. Keeping low I made my way to the main highway. I saw a car parked on the highway shoulder. No one was in it so I assumed the driver had run out of gas. I decided to stand in front of the car and hitchhike. My thinking was being in uniform and in front of the parked car, drivers would think it was mine and I had experienced car troubles. It worked! I had been standing about two minutes when this car pulled over. The driver motioned me to hurry when I noticed he was wearing the same kind of uniform I had on; my heart dropped. What was worse I recognized him as one of the wing officers at the joint I had just left. I was caught.

“Get in.” he said sharply. I almost confessed “O.K., you caught me, I’ll go peacefully but I didn’t. The lump in my throat wouldn’t let me.“Where to?” he asked with a half smile. “The first town you come to so I can get some gas,” I managed to answer. The town was bout 20 miles away. As we drove, I gathered my wits. He said he’d help me get the gas and run me back to the car. He asked if I was a new employee at the joint and I was glad to confess I was. Then I said, “You don’t need to return me to the car. I’ll call my wife and she’ll pick me up.” “O.K.,” he said, “it’s no bother--you know, you sure remind me of someone I’ve met before!” “Really? Well…no! I’m sure we’ve never met,” I said.

He dropped me at a service station, wished me well, and drove away. I was free! About three days later, I was miles away from that prison. I was hungry and tired so I decided to rob a store near the outskirts of the nearby city. During that robbery, I killed three people, but managed to keep from getting caught for over a year. Never mind how I got the gun. I was eventually apprehended, convicted and returned. I hated that stupid cop I ducked, and while I was on the streets my obsession to get a message to authorities so that cat would be fired was the thing which led to my apprehension and new conviction.

Eventually I had to testify at his trial. Of course I couldn’t tell them much except that I had developed the duck and then the details of the cop’s violations. “Anything else you folks would like to know?” I asked my interviewers.

“Only one thing. Now that you are back in prison, are you trying to acquire, or have you acquired another duck?” I leaned back on my chair, fixed my eyes on the petitioner as I thought about the question, took a stick of chewing gum from my shirt pocket, unwrapped it, and slowly slid it into my mouth. I stood to leave the room, paused at the door, smiled, and said, “They don’t sell gum in these joints…later, man!”

Chilling, no?

It is a process, and while the story gives you an in depth look in how a criminal grooms (another term we use) this guard into giving him contraband, this process applies to anything else one of these people might want. I am going to give you a quick and easy run down on what to expect while dealing with people like this. There are definitely some important things to think about.

First Rule: Never, never, never, never, never, never, never, Never^1,000,000 say, “That can’t happen to me. It won’t happen to me. I won’t do that.”

Look, every single person who has ever been suckered said the same thing. My PERSONAL experience with dealing with this situation regarding a coworker began with that very phrase and ended with the said person being charged with a Class C felony. Never assume you cannot be tricked. Repeat this mantra:

It could be me. This could be me. I could be next. I can be fooled.

Believe it, and then do everything you can to prevent it.

Becoming complacent is what gets people in trouble. They believe they are above this and so they make mistakes that a more cautious person would have seen coming. If you have it in your mind that you can be a victim, you will stay on top of things.

Second Rule: Observation

You got to get good at reading people- a skill you have to work at, but it can definitely be the big difference between believing someone is a gentleman and noticing the off qualities about them. Pay attention, and then watch for the following signs…

Glibness/Charm: Some people are charming naturally. When you talk to them, they just attract people. You cannot help but like them. So, take a step back and actually think it out- is this a natural quality about the person, or does it feel a little put on? Does it seem like the projection is actually intentional, that they are trying to make themselves look very positive?  

Compliments: If someone is trying to flatter you when you barely no them, you have one serious red flag. If someone is paying you frequent undue compliments, you also have a red flag. It is one thing if someone says, “Hey, I liked your post” or when you post a pic of you up with a new haircut, “Hey, great haircut”, it is an entirely different thing when the compliments come often and even seem from out of nowhere. If the compliments are targeted to something you feel inadequate about- might be time to run.

Example: I feel bad about my characters- I think they are all too generic and need work. Person X not only tells you they are fine, but goes on about how great they are and how great you are. Thereafter, they periodically drop compliments about your ability to create very awesome characters and how you have a unique perspective on this that other people just don’t get.

Unusual Amount of Interest in Your Interests: Have you found someone who just seems to be into everything you are. They squeal with delight when you mention your interests and seem to be into the same things you are. Not only are they into your interests, they want to know about all your interests- the more they know, the more they have to work with.

Invasive Questions: Speaking of which, after they have softened you up some, they will ask personal and invasive questions. They’ll try to get you to divulge information helpful to them in trying to figure you out. If they figure you out, they know which buttons to push and how to better manipulate your mood. They will find those sore spots and help massage them out, making you feel better. They find what might rile you up and do it just here and there, enough to get you going a little bit, but only in a fun sort of way.

Teasing/Dares/Challenges: Perhaps I don’t have enough psychology under my belt yet, but I don’t know why this compels people to act, but if someone challenges you to do something, or makes it out like you just wouldn’t dare, that you wouldn’t dare do this- people want to step up and do it. You have to prove the other person wrong. They think you are too chicken/weak/incapable? Why, you’ll show them. Even if it means showing your private bits.

Once you get into this situation, you are going to be over your head in no time. You give someone power over you by exposing yourself (whether it be with your body, or your secrets, or something else) they have control. They can make you do more. They can twist you into doing what they want. If they are just interested in themselves it will continue as long as they have access to you. If they want to cause pain (Amanda Todd’s case) they will pursue you relentlessly.

I am going to wrap this up, but expect something to go in that thread Vintage put up sometime soon, with this and maybe a bit more (Not the whole closing thoughts, the information after the story :P). I want people to be careful out there. Unfortunately, this has to go out doubly so to the ladies of Valucre, but I think knowing this is useful for anyone, given that a predator is a predator. There is more than one way to be a victim to one of these people.

Never let your guard down. Assume you could be next. Pay attention, and make sure it never happens.

Until next week you fine folks-

See you next week

-          Acies

"Real knowledge is to know the extent of one's ignorance. ~Confucius