ashkentradio-blog

[ashkentradio-blog]

Who are you?

Your faithful radio host. A concerned citizen. Someone tired of having bullshit fed to them. 

I’m everyone. No one. To make sure people don’t attempt to stop me, I’ll keep my name to myself. You can just call me Host.

[ashkentradio-blog]

Who are you going to expose next?

You, maybe.

[ashkentradio-blog]

Reilly Kavanagh? Tad Jones? Either of them?

Impatient, I see. 

We’ll do some digging. Maybe find something interesting.

How about it? Do you two have anything to hide?

[ashkentradio-blog]

So if the police have questionable actions, how about other figures of authority? Teachers, doctors, and the like?

There’s no doubt they all do. Just as often as our protectors become the forces of violence, those there to heal become the ones who hurt. Those who are intended to educate tell lies. 

But who, specifically? You’ll just have to keep listening if you want to find out.

[ashkentradio-blog]

Keep this stuff up. A lot of us here are tired of being lied to.

It’s nice to know someone’s listening, but worry not. Even if no one wants to hear it, I’ll keep saying it until it’s unavoidable.

[ashkentradio-blog]

Law! What is it Good For | 5.4.17

[transcript of radio broadcast, the recording of which has found its way onto social media throughout Ashkent Creek.]

Good evening, Ashkent, are you listening? You should be. I’ve got a few interesting stories to tell you today, so pull up a seat and make yourself comfortable. Some of you may recognize the events that will be told today. Some of you may have hoped these sorts of things would say quiet. Where’s the honesty in that, though? It’s always better to get everything out there.

It’s been an interesting week in Ashkent. Unless you live under a rock, I imagine you might have seen some of these strange events. The dead, that is. Bodies rising and reuniting with their family. Or, a version of them, if nothing else. Has anyone else noticed that the old dearly departed don’t belong to their dimension? Really makes you wonder about what’s dragging these bastards back from across planes of existence. Makes you wonder what brings others, alive and dead.

Things like that don’t just happen. A coincidence is finding out your favorite food is on sale the day you go shopping, or ending up at the same concert as your best friend without talking about it first. Scores of people, living and dead, suddenly arriving from Ashford River is intent.

Maybe it’s not malicious. Maybe whoever is causing this is real friendly about it. Enlightening the masses with new, unexpected experiences. A Good Samaritan, if you will. What happens once we’re enlightened? Do we go back to where we came from? Will the dead return to their graves while everyone carries on with their happy lives?

That’s all speculation, though, isn’t it? You came for facts, and I have some to share. Shall we start small?

The lack of questioning in this town is really quite astonishing. I enjoy blindly following authority figures as much as the next person, but it might be time that we take closer look at some of their actions.

Let’s talk about rules. Rules that some people seem interested in breaking. For some, it’s running around outside without clothes on. Harmless to most, fun for anyone that gets to witness young Noah Kalani streaking through a parking lot. But some find reason to break more important rules.

We’re supposed to look up to law enforcement, aren’t we? The trustworthy boys in blue and all those that serve to help them? So what are we to think when we witness them breaking the laws they’re supposed to uphold?

I’m not talking about speeding a little too fast or shortchanging a clerk at the 7/11. Hardly. Wouldn’t it be so easy to ignore those sorts of things?

No. But it wasn’t any of those things, was it Cece and Reed? Maybe you thought no one saw or no one heard the screaming. Maybe you thought no one saw you do it. I did. And as far as being truthful with the fine people of Ashkent Creek, I think they should know that those sworn to protect them are often times the ones inflicting the most harm. Tell me, how did it feel to kill those people?

Be careful, Ashkent. The wolves are out there, but you’ll never see them if you keep your eyes closed. Good night, I’ll see you around.

@hawaiianhalfwolf @cecebishop @reedhan

[ashkentradio-blog]

ooc //

Yo, friends! Just so you know, I’m planning on posting here once a week with a transcript of the show that week. If you want to submit anything to be mentioned that’s character specific (doesn’t have to be your character) just shoot a message or submission my way.

Options can be: 

Anything slightly sketch or secretive mentioned on the dash that doesn’t make it into a [pm].

Anything happening in a public place in a para or chatzy.

Anything happening in a private place in a para or chatzy that the character is then thinking about a lot in the presence of others or that one of them would straight up tell someone else (or submit to the radio show themselves).

We can use any or all ideas to spring board into a para, chatzy, or dash convo as reason for this information to get into their hands if you’d like. Let me know, or if you have questions just send me a message and I’m up for the plots.

You are also free to leave comments or send comments through asks that may be in response to an episode.

[ashkentradio-blog]

And On the Third Day || 4.27.17

[transcript of radio broadcast, the recording of which has found its way onto social media throughout Ashkent Creek.]

Good evening. Are you listening, Ashkent? You should be, because you’re about to hear the truth. That’s my goal. To tell you the truth when no one else in this town will. And let’s get one thing clear, Ashkent, this town has a lot of liars. But no one says anything—no one does anything.

Why is that?

Tell me, friends. Do you really want to explain everything away and keep living in the dark? You can keep pretending that going to a haunted house that shows you your own worse fear is just a coincidence. That the people lurking in the woods are just out hunting squirrels, and the creature with blue blood at their feet is just… what? A fluke? Pretend however you like, Ashkent, but I won’t. I want to know everything, and I’m going to share that information with you.

Oh, and if you’rr one of the people that wants to lie; that thinks it’s better not to tell the truth. Just know that I’m watching, and I see what you’re hiding.

Maybe we should start with the beginning of the week. The spring festival just finished, and it seems like it was exciting. The bonfire. That was the big story. A man jumped into the fire and then ran across the sand. He was rambling like a crazy person. He’s recovering. He’s getting better. The news said a lot of things, but if you actually listen, it seems there’s a different story there. He didn’t just jump into a fire, he appeared there.

‘But wait!’ you cry, people can’t just appear out of thin air! People also can’t show up in Ashkent Creek from another dimension, if you’re willing to follow that logic, but I’ve got some news for you. They can, and they have.

Don’t believe me? That’s okay. I won’t make you. Believe what you want. But you’re not the only place that’s special, Ashkent. All the people showing up from Ashford River? Not all of us want to play nice and pretend like everything is fine. Some of us are tired of it.

How long can you keep it up, anyway? What will it take? If a man appearing in a fire isn’t enough, maybe you just need someone that can turn into a giant wolf showing up on a sidewalk. Maybe someone with fangs. Someone with strength that doesn’t match their size.

Maybe you need to see the dead rise.

But no, that’s silly. That’s crazy talk. The dead can’t rise. Vampires aren’t real. Ya-da, ya-da.

I’d be careful who you trust in this town, Ashkent. If you want evidence, that’s what I’ll give you. I’ll give you the straight truth, because someone has to. If you’re tired of being lied to, keep listening. I’m here, I’m watching, and I’m ready to make sure you know what’s really happening.

And if you happen to see the dead rising from their graves, maybe grab a shovel, not a welcome mat. There’s probably a reason they were dead in the first place.

Good night, Ashkent. I’ll see you around.