The Haunting at Kravis School of Fine Arts

The Kravis School of Fine Arts

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Mike doesn’t commit to actually climbing out of the Director’s van as he talks to you. His read end is almost in his seat, while the rest of him hangs from the door, ready to slam it shut behind him once the rest of you go inside.

"Kra-vis. Kra-vis. You got it?" he says, already irritated by the evening’s shoot. He pulls off his headset, and lets it fall around his neck, as he looks at the rest of you setting up to go inside. He’s already started to sweat. "I don’t need the the Dean’s foot up my ass because someone called this place Cat-Piss or Crap-vis or some other probably-accurate-but-wrong name, alright? Alright!"

He sighs, and falls back into his seat, talking to you from fully inside the van now. The door can be done later.

"Same shit, different day, people. Get in there and set up in the front hall. You’ll have plenty of space in there. You know the deal: Make the gear go *beep*. Slam a few doors. Look wide-eyed and miserable. We aren’t looking to re-invent the wheel here. Heck, smash a few windows in there, if you feel like it."

He goes to close the van door then, lurching back up to put a sweaty hand to the top of it.

"Oh, and mention the girl. The dead one…" he checks his notes. "… Alice Bigsby. Young girl, beautiful, straight A student, real fucking loser. Yadda, yadda, yadda. Took the fall and killed herself. You know the drill."

On the drive to the campus, Leigh is the model example of someone being bored out of their mind and wanting to be anywhere but here. Side window of the van rolled down, arm leaning out, chewing gum with a disinterested expression behind her shades. She's almost thirty but her attitude might as well be that of a rebellious teenager. Though hopefully, a teenager wouldn't be fucking up their teeth with the nicotine gum she got hooked on without ever actually having smoked.

When the campus comes into view, she reaches out her foot to kick Vonsham's leg. "Yo, back to the old stomping grounds, huh, prof?" She throws him a wide, mocking grin, well aware of how much he hates being reminded of his previous job. She taps her sunglasses. "I just winked at you. You probably didn't see."

She doesn't listen to the director's speech. Same bla bla bla as every shoot. Instead, she unpacks her camera and begins getting ready to film. As the others are flapping their lips at each other, she wanders off a bit, towards the locked down building to take some exterior reels for the establishing shots. "Snorevis university," she announces. There's going to be voiceover and music anyway, so the audio track for these won't be used. But it might still rile up Mike, which is fun. "Home to the hottest alumni and the best chem profs in the country."

Ricky pinches the bridge of his nose dramatically as he stands outside the van. "No, Mike, it's not 'yadda, yadda, yadda.' These are important details! And wasn't it Alice Bixby, not Bigsby?" Amateurs, Ricky thinks. "Also, you know I don't touch the equipment, it interferes with my spiritual connections. I'll go inside and get a feel for the place while you all set up." With that he leaves the others to their work and enters through the front doors.

While Mike finishes his speech, Justin has his phone camera pointed at himself to check his teeth for any remnants of that chocolate cupcake protein bar he had on the drive over, "You got it, Mikey. Okay, let's see here..."

Justin opens up his Instagram and hits record, "What's going on everyone!? It's your boy, Justin Blakely, and we are filming a suuuuper special episode for season 5 of Revenant Hasslerrrrs! Today, we're at the Kravis School of Fine Arts where I'm sure you guys have heard of the tragic passing of Alice Bigsby. The crew and I will be spending the night here to see just exactly what we can find. Will we be able to come into contact with the spirit of Alice? Find out soon and tune in when the episode is released! More details in my bio on the release date. Stay spooky folks!"

With a few taps on his phone, Justin grins, "Already at 850 likes in a couple of seconds. A new record, fuck yeah."

Justin will look at the others making their way inside and he will follow behind Ricky, "I didn't know USB's messed with your ESP, buddy." He'll let out a chuckle and slap him on the back, "All jokes, man, you know I love you. Hey, Joe, Professor! Are you guys coming or what? We got a blockbuster film to make!"

Damn, that was a pretty good joke, Ricky thinks grudgingly as he halts on the top step of the entranceway. He can't think of a witty comeback in the moment, so instead he says, "Revenant Hasslers? That was the name last season before the rebranding, numbnuts! It's Spector Sleuths now!"

"Can we just call it Nerds Rattle Doors on Camera?" Leigh interjects, turning her camera on the rest of the crew. "Way more accurate than any title alluding to a ghost or Spectre - which, for the record, wasn't even that great a movie." She shrugs. "Besides, title doesn't matter since nobody's going to watch anymore anyway. Now that Trish left, all we have left in front of the camera is a quartet of pasty white dudes. Do you really think anyone's going to watch Poltergeist Hounds or whatever you wanna call it without the T&A that girl provided?"

"Well, you could always step into that role with a change of clothes..." Ricky looks over his shoulder at Leigh with a lecherous smile that does to vaginas what salt does to slugs. "And that's not a very professional attitude. All the greats start somewhere before they were famous. Just do your job as best you can and success is bound to follow." What trite shit that lecture was, he thinks.

Mike rechecks his sheet, before putting two fingers to his eyes in frustration.

"Right, fuck! Bixby! Well, it’s Bigsby now! Seeing as how the talent has just broadcast it to the unwashed masses. Alice… Bigsby. Bigsby. Alright? Alright."

He’s about to close the door, when he stoops back out for a second:

"Let the suits worry about the name. We can just edit it in post, alright? Alright!"

Joe took a long noseful of air as he sat in the back of the van and immediately regretted it. The flood of sweaty odor from the director and the dizzying amount of AXE body spray coming off the "host" of the show mixed nauseatingly with the wet, rusty smell of the ’84 Ford Econoline van they all shared. Jesus, I gave up Off-broadway's Hamilton, Too for this... he muttered under his breath. Riding in the back with the electronics was a bit humiliating but gave him time to give himself a proper pep talk as he sat in the five gallon bucket that held some of the kilometers of cabling the show used for cameras and other electronics. C'mon,Joe. Rick Moranis let this stuff drive him out of the business. You're better than Rick Moranis... You're better than Rick Moranis... You're better than Rick Moranis... .

He popped out of the van after they stopped, all fake smiles and forced enthusiasm. So good to be getting into this mystery investigation. So...so good. the enthusiastic light that colored his face never made it to his eyes. He immediately strode around as if trying to frame the building with his hands, cameraman style, looking for a good angle while the "psychic" and the woman running the cameras argued. He sidled up next to the two and waited for the Dutchman to wander off before pulling a couple of crisp hundred dollar bills out of the pocket of his peacock colored jacket, Look, I don't wanna be here any more than you do but let's not let that get in the way. The real talent in shows like this is behind the cameras so maybe just film me on my good side and keep me from looking like too much of an idiot and there's more where those came from, okay? He slipped the bills into Adler's hand with that saccharine smile of his and looked around conspiratorially.

Leigh looks back at Ricky with a raised eyebrow at his suggestion, halfway between speechless and disgusted at his look. "Nobody's ever accused me of having tits," she snarks after she's caught herself, glancing down at her less than well-endowed chest. "But honestly, I could probably make better cash filming myself than you. Your luck I want this credit on my CV. This filming credit, so I stay behind the camera and if you want a short skirt and cleavage, you can go change. Deal?"

She then turns to the has-been when he suddenly approaches her, less than interested in what he wants from her until there's suddenly a couple hundred dollars in her hand. "Fuck, man," she grins at him, taking off her shades to look at him. "For that kind of money, I'll do anything." Remembering Ricky's look a moment ago, she quickly amends that. "Not anything. But make you look good on camera, no problem. Though for that purpose, you might want to invest some of these babies"—she lifts the hand in which the bills are already folded to obscure them from view—"towards buying a set of clothes that doesn't make you look like a total douchebag." She gives him a wink, then puts her shades back on, the bills disappearing into the back pocket of her jeans.

While others are mulling about, doing their usual, highly unpleasant ritual of pre-camera bickering and whatever else tickles them fancy today, Narcissus focuses on unloading the equipment out of the van's trunk, none too gently moving additional cameras, microphones and other miscellaneous, allegedly ghost-detecting gadgets - most of which in his honest opinion look like they just robbed a kindergarten. Although judging by the level of maturity in the snippets of discussions that he unwillingly hears, it seems that they not only stole the toys, but also the kindergarteners themselves. How did he even drop low enough to work with these people?..

He slams the trunk closed after retrieving his own metal case containing the show's entire repertoire of special effects, then walks over to where Glickmann and Kimberly seem to be in the middle of a bribe transaction and unceremoniously drops the case on the asphalt by his feet. Something clanks in it and the case starts smoking, which Professor promptly ignores in favor of glaring at the building before them. The Kravis School of Fine Arts, the one place he'd much rather never see again in his life - much less step inside to hunt ghosts with a clique of incompetent buffoons. Still hideously art deco, still rotting from inside because of the water damage, still sporting heaps of trash around the trash bins because people can't bother. He'd feel nostalgic if he didn't want to set it on fire.

"Are we admiring the view, or are we going to finish this before the next month's rent?" Narcissus eyes the wilting flowerbeds before the entrance with such contempt one would think the plants personally insulted him. "If you're planning to do any more establishing shots, for the love of Ricky's chi, do it now - main building will look like crap in the morning." He glances down and lightly kicks his case, which promptly stops smoking and starts buzzing instead. "Justin, do you want ambient mist this time, or are we sticking with glowing handprints?"

Opening the large front doors of the main hall, Justin’s nose crinkles and his face scrunches down as if he ate something sour, "Fuck me, it smells like something died in here…no pun intended…uh let’s go with the handprints, Prof. Let’s save the mist for next episode - I think the asylum is gonna give off those vibes, you feel me?"

Justin looks up at the banners hanging off the walls and he moves towards the center of the hall, "Yo, Kim, I think we can shoot the intro here. Joey! Hope you didn’t forget to put your wrinkle cream on cause we’re gonna get some good close ups."

He’ll let out a deep sigh and quietly say to himself, "Specter Sleuths…Specter Sleuths…god damn it, we should’ve gone with Spirit Science."

Ricky looks at Leigh utterly confused. "You clearly haven't done your research because there's a demographic for everything and flat chests are very popular. So I've heard," he adds unconvincingly as she walks away.

He shrugs. She probably won't report me for that one, he thinks. He cracks his knuckles and neck in an overly dramatic way and says, "Right, let's get this show on the road!" Justin opens the doors and he follows him inside. Ricky holds his hands up and slowly spins around, taking in the atmosphere, pretending to feel the presence of the supernatural. "Oh yes, this should be a great episode. I can feel it."

Leigh waves the professor's words off. "Establishing, schmestablishing," she says. "That's something I can do on my own tomorrow evening if we need anything more. When I'm not surrounded by nerds and a fucking creep." Her eyes glaring at Hooligander make it very clear who the fucking creep is. She spits out her nicotine gum onto the ground in front of the door, then follows Justin inside. "The name's Leigh, not Kim. And wouldn't it be better to shoot the intro over there, in front of that wobbly wall of water damage?"

You file into the first room; the one Mike had told you to set up in. It’s a wide open space, meant to handle the traffic from a large volume of students.

The smell is the first thing that hits you. The stink of sporous mold and mildew has you wishing for fresh air already. It’s the kind of smell that you’re sure you can taste, and it hangs in your nostrils stubbornly.

Besides that, it’s the wetness you feel most. Like the floor beneath you, while once beautifully laid out in gorgeous art deco pattern, might cave in at any minute due to the moisture damage. Each step feels like a risk.

The school colors are the saddest sight of all. The once proud emblem is now partially obscured by black circles of water damage in places. In other places, water has managed to get under the paint, forming ugly drooping bubbles that cling to the wall. Elsewhere, the paint is chipped off entirely.
* Testing, testing. Alright, folks. We want that emblem in the opening shot! Let’s get to work! *

Hey, this suit is a Julius Arliss original. he called after the camerawoman, unnecessarily rolling the 'r' for effect. I lifted it... pausing to quickly correct himself, ...was gifted it by the director of...oh, nevermind. He watched her walk away, waving off the Dutch conman like they were an old married couple. What. A . Production... he huffed before joining the rest of the crew in "admiring" the set piece for their paranormal investigation. The run down, water damaged opulence did lend a creepy ambiance to the place and an involuntary shudder from the aging actor. Maybe there was too accurate a sympathetic link between this place and Joe but he was in no way introspective enough to realize the similarities.
The jibe from "J-Money" broke his reverie and brought him back to the present in a snap. I hear the cream also works wonders on cystic acne from steroid use and is really good for unclogging pores from frequent abuse of spray tan products. Joe deadpanned, still looking up at the intricately detailed ceiling not giving the young man the courtesy of even looking back at him. I'll give my product person your contact information. Inwardly, he did hope that the production hadn't the resources for the really good 4K or 8K cameras...

"You want *that* in an opening shot?" Narcissus waves at the half-rotted emblem, even though Mike can't see him. "I don't envy the amount of editing you'll have to do to make it look good. Oh wait, you don't actually do any editing, do you?" He scoffs, then stalks away to place the static cameras in the corners opposite the wall. Or at least he tries, before finding out that floor in one of said corners is almost non-existent because of humidity, the boards having been reduced to an unidentifiable clump of mold and blackened wood.

"Charming. Pretty sure at this point this room can be considered a biohazard," Professor grimaces at the sight and moves the camera further towards the door. "Breathe less, gentlemen, some types of mold can kill you before your career has a chance to recover." He snorts, putting his case near the wall and sitting down on it. "Maybe you should spin it into your narrative. Someone in this world would believe that a satanic ritual resulted in cursed plantlife growing all over."

"At least if someone dies in here, we'll have something to film," Leigh points out. "And right now, I'm voting for that someone to be the professor who is touching my cameras without even fucking asking first." Not that Leigh can complain about where Vonsham placed the cameras. Or about him touching them at all, really, since the only camera that actually belongs to her is the one she's holding already. The others are property of the production company.

She sighs, then gets ready to film. "Would the two Js please get in position for the intro?" she asks. "Everyone else, shut up." Once Joe and J-Money are standing in front of the rotten crest, she frames them in the shot, centering Joe, despite the fact that J-Money's supposed to be the main attraction, then she says. "Intro to hunting the Kravis Ghoul of Fine Farts, take 1, go."

While pacing the perimeter, making vague motions like he's a human antenna receiving signals, he pauses to quip, "You have to have a notable career worth recovering from first. I don't spin 'narratives', I listen to the ones that exist in the ethereal energies that permeate our reality, and give them voice. Already I'm getting powerful sensations." Ricky walks nearer to the school emblem and waves his hands vaguely. "Yes, anger, fear, shame. And images are forming. A sorority pillow fight upstairs. A hazing ritual gone wrong." Now he walks closer to the "Professor." "And, oh interesting, shame and anger at a sexual encounter aborted after someone gets laughed at for his tiny willy. Oh, sorry Narcissus, I think your energies are interfering." After that sick burn, Ricky walks out of the way so the crew can begin filming.

"If I die from a poisonous mold from this establishment of all places, I'm going to come back just so I can burn it to the ground. It already took half my life, I'm not going to let it take the other." Narcissus grumbles in response to Leigh, although significantly more good-naturedly than is usual for him, almost with a tiny hint of humour. Unfortunately for him, his amusement quickly evaporates as Ricky decides to insert himself in Professor's vicinity, prompting a deadpan glare as an answer to his speech.

"I wasn't talking to you, I was talking to the people who are actually doing their jobs right now. What is it that you're contributing to our show, again? Ah yes, drunken ramblings, of course." Professor hisses back at Hooligander, lowering his voice just enough that Leigh isn't too compelled to throw something heavy at them for talking. "And really, schoolyard insults? Maybe you should search your ethereal energies for something more inventive, else people might think that you're actually, dare I say it, a fraud. That would be a darn shame "

Satisfied with his comeback, Narcissus leans back against the less decrepit part of the wall and crosses his arms. He doesn't really do much during filmings unless the hosts request a "scientific" opinion or some special effects in the frame, and the intro rarely requires either so he's in the clear for now. Still, it is disconcerning to be in this building again, and Narcissus can't help but rhythmically tap his foot against the floor in annoyance. Maybe he can go out for a smoke while they're doing their thing...