Benedikt Eickhoff

The Ghost Ship

Set Up Scene:

Scene 1: A cluttered artist's studio, filled with half-finished paintings, sketches, and sculptures. The main character, a passionate but struggling artist named Esmeralda, is seen wrestling with her latest creation - a painting of a ship named Baudelaire. She is haunted by the ghost of a past lover, who she had once promised immortality through her art.

Backstory Scenes:

Scene 2: A flashback to Esmeralda's past, where she is seen in a passionate relationship with her lover. They share dreams of immortality and artistic glory, but their relationship ends tragically.

Outlook on What Might Happen Next:

Scene 3: Esmeralda, driven by her guilt and longing, decides to give her ghost lover the immortality he desired by painting him as the god-like figure on the ship Baudelaire. However, she struggles with the task, as she is also dealing with her own fears and insecurities.

Loglines:

"Haunted by the ghost of her past lover, a struggling artist must overcome her fears and insecurities to create a masterpiece that will grant him the immortality he desired." 

"In a battle against her own demons, an artist must find the courage to paint her ghost lover as a god, or risk losing him to oblivion."

Diary Entry: 

 June 10, 2023 

I can't shake him off. His ghost lingers in every stroke of my brush, in every color I mix, in every canvas I ruin. I promised him immortality, a life beyond death in my art. But how do you paint a ghost? How do you capture a love that's now just a memory, a whisper in the wind? The ship, Baudelaire, it's supposed to be his vessel, his ticket to eternity. But it's just a painting, and I'm just an artist. I'm not a god. I can't breathe life into my creations. I can't bring him back. But I can't let him go either. I'm stuck in this limbo, this purgatory of paint and canvas. I'm tired. I'm tired of the smell of paint, of the sight of my unfinished works, of the sound of his voice in my head. But I can't stop. I won't stop. Not until I've given him what I promised. Not until I've painted him as the god he wanted to be. But what then? What happens after I've finished the painting? Will he finally find peace? Will I? Or will I just find another ghost to paint, another promise to fulfill? I don't know. All I know is that I have to keep painting. For him. For me. 

 Esmeralda

Character Exploration Step Outline: 

1. Esmeralda's struggle with her art and her ghost lover is explored in depth. 
   
2. Her past relationship with her lover is revealed through flashbacks. 
   
3. Her guilt over her lover's death and her promise to him is examined. 
   
4. Her fear of failure and her insecurities about her art are delved into. 
   
5. Her determination to fulfill her promise to her lover is highlighted. 
   
6. Her eventual success in painting her lover as a god is celebrated. 
   
7. Her feelings after completing the painting are explored. 
   
8. Her decision on what to do next is pondered upon.
   

Interview with Esmeralda: 

1. How do you feel about your current project? 
   
2. What inspired you to paint the ship Baudelaire? 
   
3. Can you tell us about your relationship with your ghost lover? 
   
4. How has his death affected your art? 
   
5. How do you deal with the pressure of fulfilling your promise to him? 
   
6. What challenges have you faced in trying to paint him as a god? 
   
7. How do you handle your fears and insecurities about your art? 
   
8. What keeps you motivated to continue painting? 
   
9. How do you envision the final painting? 
   
10. What do you plan to do after you've finished the painting?
    

Anecdote Title: "The Day When Esmeralda Promised Immortality"

Anecdote:

"The Day When Esmeralda Promised Immortality" was a day of love and dreams. Esmeralda and her lover were in the throes of passion, their love as vibrant as the colors on her palette. They spoke of dreams and futures, of art and immortality. In a moment of fervor, Esmeralda promised her lover that she would make him immortal, that she would paint him as a god. It was a promise made in love, a promise she would spend her life trying to fulfill.

Scene for Stage: 

The stage is set as Esmeralda's studio. Esmeralda is seen painting, her hands moving with a fervor. The ghost of her lover watches her from a distance, his expression one of longing and sadness. As Esmeralda struggles with her painting, she breaks down, her tears falling on the canvas. The ghost moves closer, reaching out to her, but he cannot touch her. He is just a spectator, a memory. The scene ends with Esmeralda determinedly picking up her brush again, her resolve strengthened.

Speculative Step Outline of the Entire Story Arc: 

• Introduction of Esmeralda and her struggle with her art. 
  
• Flashbacks to her relationship with her lover. 
  
• The promise she made to him. 
  
• Her lover's death and its impact on her. 
  
• Her decision to paint him as a god. 
  
• Her struggles with the painting and her own insecurities. 
  
• Her determination to fulfill her promise. 
  
• Her eventual success in completing the painting. Her feelings after completing the painting.
  
• Her decision on what to do next.
  

Genre & Uniqueness

The story is character-driven, focusing on Esmeralda's emotional journey. The genre could be considered a mix of drama and supernatural. The uniqueness of the story lies in its exploration of art, love, and the concept of immortality. The selling point would be the emotional depth of the story and the character of Esmeralda, who is both relatable and intriguing.

Characterization of the Main Story Driving Force: 

 Esmeralda exhibits Negative Affectivity (6D11.0) in her constant worry and fear about her art and her promise to her lover. She shows signs of Detachment (6D11.1) as she isolates herself in her studio, consumed by her art. Her Dissociality (6D11.2) is evident in her disregard for societal norms and expectations in her pursuit of fulfilling her promise. Her Disinhibition (6D11.3) is seen in her impulsive decision to promise her lover immortality. Lastly, her Anankastia (6D11.4) is reflected in her obsession with her art and her compulsion to fulfill her promise.

A locked box that only opens when the right questions are asked.

Confidential Report

Subject: Interview with Mi

Date: [Current Date]

Time: [Interview Start Time] - [Interview End Time]

I. Introduction:

On [Date], I conducted the first official interview with Mi, a person of interest in an ongoing investigation. The purpose of this interview was to gather preliminary information and gain insights into Mi's background and personal experiences. The interview took place in a secure interrogation room to ensure privacy and confidentiality.

II. Interview Details:

Location: [Interrogation Room]

Participants: Interrogator: [Name]

Mi: [Subject's Name]

III. Summary of Interview:

During the interview, Mi displayed a calm demeanor with subtle signs of nervousness. Mi willingly shared personal memories and experiences, offering glimpses into their upbringing and the impact it had on their character. Mi's responses were sometimes guarded, revealing a tendency to conceal certain details or provide incomplete information. Mi discussed memories of playing in the park and climbing a large tree, emphasizing a sense of freedom and escape. They mentioned shared meals at home, but there was an underlying indication of emotional detachment within the family dynamic. Mi also recounted finding a lost puppy, highlighting their compassion and desire for connection.

High school emerged as a challenging period for Mi, where they expressed feeling like just another face in the crowd. The interview exposed a deep longing for recognition and understanding, as well as a struggle to navigate societal expectations while maintaining their individuality. Mi's responses reflected a humble self-perception, consistently stating that they were an ordinary individual without any exceptional qualities. They alluded to facing difficult times and emphasized the importance of resilience and perseverance.

IV. Observations and Analysis:

Mi's demeanor during the interview suggested a complex individual with layers of emotional depth. While their responses appeared genuine, there were indications of withholding certain aspects and a propensity for guarding their true thoughts and feelings. Mi's evasive nature could be an intentional defense mechanism or a reflection of their cautious approach in the interview setting. The interplay between Mi's past experiences and their present self was evident, with memories shaping their perception of the world. The contrast between moments of joy and isolation emphasized Mi's desire for connection and authenticity.

V. Conclusion:

The initial interview with Mi provided valuable insights into their upbringing, personal experiences, and the impact these factors have had on their identity. Mi's guarded nature and selective disclosure indicate a need for further exploration to unravel the underlying motivations and intricacies of their character.

Recommendation:

Based on the initial interview, it is recommended to conduct further interviews and investigations to delve deeper into Mi's background, relationships, and potential connections to the ongoing investigation. Additional interviews may help uncover hidden details and provide a more comprehensive understanding of Mi's role and involvement. Respectfully submitted,

[Interrogator's Name]

[Title/Rank]

[Organization/Agency]

A heartfelt letter on a park bench.

Dear Ambassador Fckfrg,

I hope this letter finds you well. I am writing to you from the park, a place that has always been a sanctuary for me. Today, it served as the backdrop for a conversation that has left me contemplating the vast possibilities life has to offer. My friend John joined me on the bench today, carrying a book about exotic pets. He shared with me his fascination with dragons - not the mythical, fire-breathing creatures of lore, but real, living creatures like Komodo dragons and bearded dragons. It was an unconventional choice, yet it felt so like John to choose the path less traveled. He spoke of his plans to provide the right environment for such a creature, converting a spare room into a terrarium, hiring a vet who specializes in reptiles. His determination was admirable, and I found myself saying, "Well, if anyone can make a home for a dragon, it's you, John." His eyes shone with anticipation as he thanked me, excited to embark on this new adventure. And as I sat there, listening to his plans, I realized something. I want to be a part of his adventure. I want to be there as he turns his spare room into a terrarium, as he learns to care for his dragon. I want to be there for all his adventures, because I've come to realize that I have feelings for him. I am writing to you, Ambassador, because I value your wisdom and guidance. I plan to confess my feelings to John. I don't know how he'll react, or if he even feels the same way. But I know that I need to tell him, for my own peace of mind. I would appreciate any advice you could offer as I prepare to embark on this new journey.

Thank you for your time, Ambassador. I look forward to hearing from you soon. 

Sincerely, Mi

Who is Fckfrg ?

Fckfrg, the elusive mastermind behind "The Atrophy Murders," is a character of profound complexity and depth. Born and raised in the bustling metropolis of Newbridge, Fckfrg's life is deeply intertwined with a forgotten bus stop, a place that holds a myriad of childhood memories. From a young age, Fckfrg was known for their observant nature and insatiable curiosity. The bus stop, once a lively hub in a thriving neighborhood, served as their window to the world. They would spend hours there, watching the people, the buildings, the birds, and the ever-changing sky, wondering about the lives and destinations of the passersby. This curiosity led to a fascination with photography, sparked by a chance encounter with a local photographer who sold them their first camera.

As Fckfrg grew older, they honed their skills as a photographer, capturing the essence of the city and its inhabitants. However, as the neighborhood began to decay and the once-vibrant community disappeared, Fckfrg found themselves feeling increasingly disillusioned and detached. The bus stop, once a symbol of connection and community, now stood as a stark reminder of the passage of time and the loss of connection. 

In search of purpose and driven by a complex web of emotions, Fckfrg embarked on a darker path. They became the cunning mastermind behind "The Atrophy Murders," exploiting their intimate knowledge of the city and its residents to orchestrate a series of gruesome crimes. Fckfrg's deep understanding of human nature, combined with their skill in manipulation and deception, allowed them to evade detection, casting suspicion on the unsuspecting Mi. Despite the horrific nature of their actions, Fckfrg remains a deeply human character. Their story serves as a stark reminder of the profound impact of our environments, the power of our past, and the lengths to which individuals may go when faced with loss and disillusionment.

The Fall Down

I was in a city filled with noise and movement. Among the crowd, I recognized John, an acquaintance from the waking world. He acknowledged my presence with a nod, his attention quickly swallowed by the city's bustle. The dream shifted, and I found myself falling through a vortex of time. Images flashed before me: a childhood playground, a high school graduation, a quiet library, a bustling office, a serene retirement home, and a tranquil garden of the future. In each scene, I saw myself writing a letter. The recipient was always John. The contents of the letter flowed from my mind onto the paper, a chronicle of shared experiences and future hopes. The dream changed again, and I was in a deep ocean. A voice echoed around me, belonging to Fckfrg. The voice advised, "Just keep swimming." I moved through the water, my movements steady and determined. In the midst of the ocean's depth, I whispered a name into the water - "Mi". The name hung in the water around me, a new identity in this dreamscape. The current carried me sideways, the shift in direction matching the shift in my identity. The dream slowed down, and I found myself floating in the calm ocean. The city's noise was a distant memory. I spoke into the silence, ' "Tomorrow. Tomorrow is another day." The dream ended, and I found myself back in the room, a book open before me, a pen in my hand. I wrote about the dream, about the city, the ocean, John, Fckfrg, and "Mi". The dream repeats and I find myself falling again, ready for another cycle of experiences.

A lighthouse guiding a ship through a storm.

Dear MI,

I hope this message finds you well. As your Ambassador, I am writing to you from the crossroads of our shared adventure, a place where the mundane and the extraordinary intertwine, where reality and perception dance a delicate waltz. I've been closely monitoring your journey, your brave exploration of self, your confrontation with the shadows of fear and insecurity, and your battle against the unseen forces that distort your understanding of reality. This path you've chosen is not for the faint-hearted, yet you've stepped onto it with an admirable blend of courage and resolve. I empathize with your sense of unease, the feeling of being an ill-fitting piece in the grand puzzle of life. I, too, have wrestled with these sentiments. But remember, it's through these trials that we uncover our true selves. It's in the eye of the storm that we discover our resilience, and it's within the maze of our minds that we unearth our deepest truths.

You're grappling with questions, doubts, and fears. This is a natural part of the journey. But don't let them overwhelm you. Instead, let them serve as your compass, guiding you through the wilderness of self-discovery. Remember, the only way to reach the other side is to journey through. As you continue on this path, know that you're not alone. As your Ambassador, I'm here to provide guidance and support. I'm here to help you navigate the complexities of this journey, to assist you in deciphering the enigma that is you.

Let me share a story from my past, an unexpected event that shaped my journey. It was a day like any other, when a random encounter with a stranger at a bus stop changed my perspective. The stranger shared a tale of overcoming adversity, of finding strength in the face of despair. This story, though seemingly random, served as a beacon of hope in my own journey. It reminded me that even in the darkest of times, there is always a glimmer of light, a spark of resilience that can ignite the path to self-discovery. I look forward to our continued correspondence and to witnessing your evolution.

Remember, every great journey begins with a single step. Keep moving forward, MI. 

With respect and admiration, 

Ambassador Fckrfg

A Bike Ride

Ride my bike through a narrow market street and be forced to dodge through an oncoming car - a French small car with a woman at the wheel who shows little interest in me. Struggling to continue my ride , I get stuck at the back exit of a concert hall, in front of which luggage and equipment stands - and not only hinders my onward journey. I line up in the queue of those waiting to get to the main road. But the whole city seems to be clogged.

The Dragon And The Porcupine

Dear Ambassador Fckfrg,

 I hope this letter finds you well. I'm writing to tell you about a dream I had recently. It was quite an experience, and since you were a part of it, I thought you might find it interesting. In the dream, I found myself in a vast industrial space. The only object there was a car, sitting alone in the middle of the room. The air was filled with a variety of sounds: a low hum, a high-pitched whine, and a rhythmic thumping. You appeared in the dream, handing me a key. As I took it from you, the sounds around us amplified. The hum deepened, the whine intensified, and the thumping quickened. I noticed movement in the car. A little dragon and a porcupine emerged from the backseat. They seemed to be having a lively conversation. They left the car and started to explore the space, their movements matching the rhythm of the thumping sound. Intrigued by the sounds, I decided to investigate. I walked towards the walls, trying to locate the source of the low hum. I followed the high-pitched whine, trying to pinpoint its origin. I moved in rhythm with the thumping, hoping to find where it was coming from. After a while, the dragon and the porcupine disappeared, leaving me alone in the space with the key. Despite my efforts, I couldn't find the source of the sounds. They seemed to be everywhere and nowhere at the same time. The dream ended with me standing in the middle of the room, the key in my hand, the sounds still echoing around me. Despite not finding the source of the sounds, the act of searching felt like a journey in itself, a part of the larger journey that the key represents. I'm not sure what this dream means, but I felt compelled to share it with you. I look forward to hearing your thoughts. 

The Free Fall

I find myself sitting with an open book before me, a pen in my hand. Thoughts flow, words form. A voice, perhaps my own, whispers, "Just write." Then, the room tilts, and I'm falling, a thrilling freefall into the unknown. Suddenly, I'm at a party, surrounded by laughter and noise. Someone asks, "Great party, isn't it?" I nod, I smile, but my words vanish into the noise. Then, the fall shifts. I'm falling at an angle. The sensation of altered. speed. A reflection appears. I ask, "Who am I?" Silence. The reflection just stares back, unblinking. Then, I'm spiraling, the world spinning around me as I descend. The fear of not knowing who I am and the fear of the fall. Intertwined. Laughter carries on the breeze. Voices call, "Come join us!" I try, but the words are stuck. Then, the fall slows. I'm floating rather than falling, the fear replaced by a sense of calm. The inability to join the laughter and the peaceful fall. A poignant contrast. "Hamlet." I read aloud, "To be or not to be." Silence. The world is upside down, the rules of gravity reversed. Then I’m falling upward. The question of existence in Hamlet and the awe of the upward fall resonate with each other. A profound moment. Words, accusations, hurt. A voice says, "You've changed." Silence. I don't reply. Then, the fall shifts sideways. The sensation is disorienting, the thrill muted by the strangeness of the experience. The hurtful words and the strange fall echo each other. Amplifying disorientation. The book closes. The lamp goes off, the room dark. The night quiet. I say, "Tomorrow." "Tomorrow is another day." Then, I land. The fall is over. I'm back in the room, the book open before me, the pen in my hand. I write about the fall, about the thrill and the fear, about the subtle differences in each descent. The room tilts. I'm falling again, ready to experience the thrill and the fear, ready to discover nuances of the fall. The cycle repeats, dream continues. The alarm rings. I silence it. I sit up in bed, rub my eyes. In the bathroom, I brush my teeth. I look at my reflection. In the living room, I drink coffee. I look out the window. The world moves. On the street, I walk to work. The city bustles. At the office, I sit at my desk. A letter is before me. I hide it when a coworker passes. At the park, I sit on a bench. John talks. My mind is elsewhere. Back at my apartment, I sit on the couch. I read a letter. I hide it when there's a knock on the door. In my bedroom, I lie in bed. I look at the ceiling. I reveal a diary under my pillow. I open it, then close it. The day ends. Secrets remain.

A Simple Knock

At work, a letter lay on my desk, hidden each time a certain colleague passed by. It was more than just paper and ink, it was a piece of me, a piece I wasn't ready to share. It was as if I was a spirit, doomed to walk the night, confined to fast in fires till the foul crimes done in my days of nature are burnt and purged away. But I am forbid to tell the secrets of my prison-house. In simpler words, I felt like a ghost, destined to wander in the darkness, trapped in a cycle of guilt until my past mistakes are cleansed. But I'm not allowed to share the secrets of my personal torment. Later, at home, my fortress of solitude was disturbed by a knock on the door. A simple knock, yet it sent my heart racing. Who could it be? A friend, a family member, a neighbor, or a stranger? Could they know about the letter? About the secrets I'm trying to keep? The thought was unsettling. As I opened the door, I saw a porpentine, its quills standing on end, like the hairs on the back of my neck. It was as if the creature was mirroring my own fear and anxiety, its quills standing on end, like mine, at the prospect of the unknown. Tomorrow beckons, with its promise so sweet, will it bring answers or will history repeat? As Hamlet once said, "Murder most foul, as in the best it is; But this most foul, strange and unnatural." Or in simpler terms, a murder is always a horrible act, but this one is especially disgusting, strange, and unnatural. Will my secrets be revealed as foul and unnatural, or will they remain hidden, like the letter on my desk? Only time will tell.