The Amelia Project - Episode 45 - Raven

Episode Date: November 26, 2021

With Carli Fish, Alan Burgon, Julia Morizawa, Julia C. Thorne and Tarquin as Sheba the cat Written by Oystein Brager Story editing by Philip Thorne Edited by Philip Thorne  Directed by Philip Thorne and Oystein Brager Sound design by Eli Hamada McIlveen Sound recording by Dominic Hargreaves Music by Fredrik Baden Graphic design by Anders Pedersen Production assistance by Maty Parzival For full credits see our website.  The Amelia Project is an audio fiction series. We recommend starting at the beginning. Congratulations. You’ve reached the content warning. The Amelia Project is about death, mishaps, mayhem and misfortune. And cocoa. If you’re not comfortable with this, stop listening. Now.  This specific episode contains mentions of suicide. The Amelia Project is part of the Fable & Folly Network.  Website: ameliapodcast.com  Patreon https://www.patreon.com/ameliapodcast Transcripts: ameliapodcast.com/transcripts  Twitter: @amelia_podcast  Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

Summer's here, and you can now get almost anything you need delivered with Uber Eats. What do we mean by almost? You can't get a well-groomed lawn delivered, but you can get chicken parmesan delivered. Sunshine? No. Some wine? Yes. Get almost, almost anything delivered with Uber Eats. Order now. Alcohol in select markets. See app for details.

Cold tapes. A gripping crime story that will chill you to the bone. You know, life on the base means, well, it's close to six months without light. That does things to people that study that he was doing to watch us and then set off us like mice around this special little experiment how many people are on this space 16 on this one someone amongst them is our killer experiencees, the murder mystery podcast game. Start your investigation where you get your podcasts. Hello, it's Pip, and today's episode is dedicated to J.K. Robbins, who wants to fake his death by consuming a hot sauce so deadly that he spontaneously combusts.

He wants to be resurrected as a reclusive writer of pulp novels based on a taco track vigilante, dishing out justice with a twist of lime and a side of chips and guacamole. He will pay for his disappearance with his compact disc collection of over 3,000 CDs, a daily supply of adorable cat videos, and being on call to whip up the best vegan tacos as often as we please. Well, JK, we accept your case, and Kozlovsky is concocting the deadly hot sauce as I speak. We should also mention that JK is a fellow audio drama creator with a project called

Peculiar Radio in the pipeline, which we're really looking forward to, and you can also watch him reviewing hot sauces from around the world via JK's Hot Take on YouTube. Right, it's time to catch up with the Amelia gang at their new offices in Paris. Enjoy the show. Congratulations, you have come to the Amelia Project. If you're not serious, please hang up. If you continue, there is no return. Good choice. There is a new life awaiting you.

You'll hear back from us. If you don't hear back, please consider this a hoax. Leave your message after the beep. If you saw me sitting on your doorstep, even if I sat alone and quietly, bearing no arms, you would lock your door and tell your loved ones to beware.

Outside sits an unkindness of ravens. The Amelia Project by Philip Thorne and Ostein Braga with music by Frederick Barden. Episode 45. Raven. Jesus! Did you see the client? No. Has she arrived? She's waiting in the hallway. She is really something. Long, dark hair covering her eyes, draped in flowy garments all completely black, and she's as pale as a ghost.

I made her an espresso hoping she'd perk up a bit before the interview. Here's the client report. Why are you doing this? This is Alvina's job. She's not in yet. Why not? I don't know. I can't get a hold of her. Alvina is never late.

There's a first time for everything. I hope she's alright. Maybe can't get a hold of her. Alvina is never late. There's a first time for everything. I hope she's all right. Maybe she's got a cold. I think I might be coming down with something. Or maybe it's a delay on the tube. You mean the metro? What? How are you holding up?

Oh, good, good. All good. Great. I'll send the client in, then. Yes, please do. He's ready for you. Shoo, shoo. Psst, get out of here. Hi, I'm Raven.

Raven Harbinger. Thanks for seeing me. Not at all. Please, sit. Welcome to the Amelia Project. This is weird. I haven't really spoken to anyone for a very long time. Oh? Why not?

I live by myself. Oh, not too keen on company. Oh no, I'd love to be around people. I just can't. Oh, I'm not allowed. People don't want me around. Why not? I bring death. Sorry?

Wherever I go, someone dies. You're a murderer. No, no. I'm just a bad omen. You're saying what? You predict death? Not predict, exactly. More... proceed. You... proceed death? Yes. It started when I was six. My parents sent me on holiday to my aunt and uncle's farm. My parents were busy moving house and wanted me out of the way.

Auntie and uncle didn't like me much. Said I creeped them out. But they took me anyway. Family, you know. Then two weeks after I arrive at their farm, my uncle stumbles into a cowpat and drowns. A cowpat? Yes. I didn't trip him, if that's what you're thinking. I was in a hammock in the orchard when it happened. Sleeping? Reading Edgar Allan Poe, I think. I was in a hammock in the orchard when it happened. Sleeping? Reading Edgar Allan Poe, I think.

After that summer, I started a new school. I remember the first day. How excited I was to meet my teacher, Mrs Doubleday. She had smoker's breath and bad personal hygiene, but she was a good teacher. She didn't even make it past Halloween before she mistook a lighter for a vape and caused herself to spontaneously combust. Shear my beard and call me a sheep. All through my life, incidents like these have kept on happening. I attend my great-grandmother's 90th. A month later, she's hit by a ball at tennis practice and drops dead. I sign up for drama group. Juliet falls off the balcony and breaks Romeo's neck. I go on safari in Kenya. The day after I leave, our guide is trampled by a horny rhino.

Over and over again, I arrive somewhere and soon after, someone dies. As the years went by, word spread. Whenever I signed up for a club or an organisation, invitations to meetings would just stop coming. I couldn't get a job, so I ended up freelancing, working from home as an illustrator, never meeting anyone in real life, just online. My friends stopped seeing me one by one. But what hurt the most, I think, was how my family abandoned me. I stopped being invited to birthdays or weddings, not even funerals. I was cousin death. Everyone was afraid of me. People might claim they're not superstitious, but I know what it means when people say, oh, maybe not this weekend, perhaps another time. So you want to start over with a clean slate? Yes. Why don't you just move somewhere no one knows you? I can't escape my reputation, what with the internet and social media. Raven Harbinger

will always be seen as a messenger of death. Yes, I guess you could do with a new name. I need a new identity. I need to be someone people aren't scared of. You know, I'm really nice once you get to know me. People just never come close enough to realise.

You're completely isolated. I hardly see anyone. I order everything online so I don't have to go out. I've tried very hard to be happy in my own company. I'm just not. I miss hugs, conversations, heck, even arguments. I don't want to be this lonely. So I thought, never more.

And I came here. I just want to be around people again. Oh no. What? But I can't, can I? What do you mean? I've been stupid. What are you talking about? I've been so stupid coming here. I shouldn't have. I'm wasting your time. Worse, I'm endangering you. Why? Whenever I enter a shop or a train station, I worry how many people I've sent to their graves. I'm sure you haven't sent anyone to their graves. Have you not listened to my story? Of course I have. Someone in this office is going to die.

No one is going to die. This is just superstition. Look at the facts. There are no facts. It's all circumstantial. I'm going to leave now. I'm sorry for everything. Stop, stop, stop. Raven, please. If, and I say if, you've endangered us by coming here, that's already done, isn't it? So if it's too late anyway, why don't you sit down and let's see if Amelia can't help you. Hm?

Well, I guess. Of course. Now, would you like some cocoa? It's from Les Deux Margaux. Sure. Thanks. There we are. Ah. Oh.

It's strange. It doesn't taste of anything. Really? I think it's delicious. Is it? Mm-mm. Hmm. Oh, dear.

Anyhow, let's have a closer look at this predicament of yours. Well, I've always wondered what's wrong with me. Did someone put a curse on me? Is it genetic? Is it the work of evil forces or just good old bad luck? You don't wish death upon people? I never know who it's going to happen to. Well, then how can it be your fault? It's not like you're carrying a virus.

The causes of death have been as different as chalk and cheese. And chalk and cheese are very different. Anyone who's tried to make a chalk and tomato sandwich can tell you that. I've been trying to convince myself I'm just preceding death, not causing it. But how do I tell the difference? Raven, I don't think you're doing either. I hope you're right, of course. But with my history, that's hard to believe.

So sorry to barge in like this. I hope you don't mind pausing for a second. That's okay. Amelia? You know I said I thought I was coming down with something? Well, I definitely am. I don't want to give it to you, so I'll just work from home instead. I'm sorry. What? Did you say you're getting sick?

Oh, it's just a head cold. Nothing to worry about. You know cold symptoms are often the first sign of something much worse. I'm confident it's just a cold cold. Nothing to worry about. You know, cold symptoms are often the first sign of something much worse. I'm confident it's just a cold. What if I did this? I didn't get it from you. I already had an itchy throat yesterday. Are you sure? I'm positive. Okay.

Anyhow, you'll be on your own for the rest of the day. You still haven't heard from Alvina? No. She isn't picking up her phone. I tried to track my phone on her computer, but it's not showing up. I'm getting a bit worried. Remember whenever the beetle broke down? She used to leave endless rants on the answer phone, spending more time complaining than fixing the darn thing.

But today? Not a peep. What if... You mean... What if they tracked us down? I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I heard what you were talking about, and I'm so sorry. What is she on about?

I didn't mean to kill your friend. Raven, Raven, I'm sure you've not killed Alvina. No? Where is she, then? We don't know that, but... She's never late. No, not normally. But as soon as I turn up...

Of course it wasn't you who's dying. You just have a cold. It's much worse than that. Your friend has been kidnapped or murdered. Now, we have no reason to assume that. I've been trying to hold it together and stay brave and be positive, but life just isn't for me, is it? I don't deserve it.

Not the way I wreak havoc on everyone else's lives. All right, I won't go home. I'm in my office in case this escalates. Sure. Could you please point me in the direction of a pharmacy? Or a rope shop? Maybe you could just lend me a razor. That's quick and easy, isn't it?

Raven, Raven, Raven. Have some more cocoa. Only if I can have some arsenic to go with it. Raven, please, don't kill yourself. That's my job. Oh, if you killed me, it would just be fake. As is your situation. What?

You do not cause death. How can you say that? Oh, for God's... I do. I know I do. You know I do. Everyone knows I do. The whole freaking universe knows that I'm a curse and a cancer

and I just can't go on. Here we go. What are you doing with that paintbrush? Dipping it in paint, paint, paint, paint. Coco. Why are you dipping the brush in

cocoa? There. You just flicked cocoa on the walls? Yes. With a paintbrush? Yes. Why on earth would you do that? Well...

You're going to have to repaint. I don't think that comes off. Look at the spots of cocoa. Sure. What am I looking for, exactly? You see, people have a tendency to misunderstand coincidence. They think of coincidence as meaningful. They make coincidence out to be a sign of a greater pattern, when in fact it is exactly the opposite. What are you getting at?

Coincidence simply means two incidents that happen to coexist in approximately the same time or space. A co-incidence, hence coincidental. Okay. coincidental. OK. Look at the spots again. When I flick the brush, where the spots end up on the wall is completely random. Here, you try. Take the brush and flick. Come on, you can do it.

Just flick the brush. Flick the cocoa on the walls. Yes, yes, there you go. Again, again. Keep it up. All over the place. Don't even think about it. Just flick the brush. You see, you don't plan it and you don't control it. You just let out your inner Jackson Pollock. That's it.

Yeah, it looks a mess. Yes, it's a mess. Look at it. All over the place. You see, some of the spots end up far away from each other. Others end up in clusters. Now, imagine how unlikely it would be for the spots to land in a perfect equidistant pattern. It wouldn't happen. No, it wouldn't happen. And that's life, Raven. It doesn't have a pattern. All it has is clusters. I don't understand. You see, what you've experienced is a cluster. Around you, death has clustered, and it's made you and many people around you think that you were the cause of that.

But you're just a random spot from the random brush of fate surrounded by other equally random spots. From your vantage point, that looks like a pattern. But if you take a step back, come on, take a step back, and just look at the bigger picture, you'll see that there's no symmetry or order, just... Chaos.

Precisely. That actually does make me feel a lot better. Well, this cocoa has healing powers. Seems like it does. Let's fake your death, then. Seems like it does. Let's fake your death then, hmm? Now, normally I prefer spectacular deaths, but for someone as isolated as you, that doesn't quite fit the bill.

Yeah, well, my life is very unspectacular. Then let's go for poetic irony instead. Okay. How? Mirror. What? You'll be found dead in front of a mirror. In your home. Just sitting there.

I don't get it. Well, whenever you appear, death occurs. Seeing you in front of that mirror, those left behind get to speculate. Was it a suicide or an accident? Did you consciously reverse your curse in order to escape or to atone? Or did fate simply turn on you? All they know is, you appeared to yourself and perished soon after. Of course, the autopsy report will say heart attack.

That's quite something. Yes, well, a well-faked death should always say something about the deceased. That's what sets a good death faker apart from a bad one. I'm so sorry I'm late. Alvina! I had to walk halfway across town and then all the way up Montmartre. See? She's alive. That's her.

I'm so glad I didn't kill you. What? Did you try to kill me? Who are you and why are you hugging me? You really scared me. This is Raven. She's a client. I'm very sweaty. I suggest you let go. Oh, I'm sorry. Things are just looking up. Yes, we've sorted out Raven's death and now we're moving on to her new life. Well, I'm glad someone is having a good day.

Mine has been a disaster so far. The metro stopped at Châtelet and was there for ages. When we finally get out, it turns out all trains on line 4 have been suspended. So I head to Hôtel de Ville to get a bus, but all the bus drivers are on strike. So then I have to walk. Only to come across this anti-corporate demonstration stretching all the way up to Bourses. I just couldn't get through the crowds. The rest was uphill, and to top it all off, our office door was blocked by some scammer

doing a three-card monte. He wouldn't let me pass unless I played. But then, when I guessed right, he started arguing whether I'd meant his left or mine. Cost me twenty euros. Plus my phone died and I'd left the charger at work. I really shouldn't complain, though. I'm better off than some. I pity the metro driver. Why? The reason

we stopped was some poor guy had thrown himself in front of the train. I knew it! Oh my god, I knew it! I'm the angel of death! I'm the freaking angel of death! I'm the freaking four horsemen of the freaking apocalypse and a train is dying next to a building. Oh no, Alvina. What? What did I do? I had just fixed this. You just ruined my work. I don't understand. Look, just leave. Please, just get out. I'm sorry. I don't know what I did. I'm sorry.

Out! Raven. Yes? Now, I won't try to tell you that you're not responsible. Good. Not because I believe you are, but because I know you believe you are. And I respect your beliefs, even if I think they're hurting you. Instead, I'm going to do magic.

Oh, what are you going to do this time? Spray whipped cream all over the place and claim that it can cure me? No, no, I'm not. Although that does sound delicious. No, I'm going to do a transformation. Of what? You. Or rather, your curse.

What do you mean? I'm going to take your curse and move it, and put it down again somewhere else. And when you look at it anew, you'll see it's not a curse anymore. Stop talking in metaphors, please! Imagine yourself reborn. You're a blonde. You're wearing white. You have a tan. Your nose is a bit flatter. Your eyebrow's a bit flatter. Your eyebrows a bit higher.

Your smile a bit wider. You work as a nurse. At first I was thinking field hospital, but then I thought, no, let's make it an old people's home. Every day you give hugs, you have conversations, you argue with angry, senile pensioners. You're happy. Also, every day you deal with death because old people die. It's not suspect or unexpected. It's just life because everyone who is alive will one day die. And so will everyone around them We cannot escape death

So we have to come to terms with it But whilst we can't avoid death We can embrace life So you're giving me a new life where I'm inconspicuous Great Oh no no, it's much more than that. In this new life, you have a superpower. How?

Constantly dealing with death is perhaps the hardest thing about working at an old people's home. Sadness and grief recurring so regularly, it gets strenuous. But what better antidote than gallows humour? I don't understand. Well, nurses need to laugh. At death. OK, well, I'm not that funny. Oh, but you are. I mean, your uncle? Come on. He drowned in a cowpat, did he not? Yes.

Doesn't that strike you as somewhat comical? That's my uncle you're talking about. Romeo dying from Juliet landing on him. I mean, your 90-year-old grandma knocked cold during tennis practice. Brilliant! What are you getting at? The deaths you are causing are hilarious. They're unexpected and farcical. Plus, all these people died as they lived, doing what they loved. I mean, if I die from being trampled by a rhino, I sure hope it's a horny one. In a place of death and sadness, you are a blessing, Raven. You are a ray of light.

Oh, no one's ever called me that before. Then I think this calls for a toast. Let's pop open the Vouv Clicquot. No! Watch out! My goodness, it's gone everywhere! I didn't expect it to reach the back wall, my goodness. This is another metaphor.

An illustration of hope and joy. No, no, no. The office was just spattered in cocoa anyway, so I thought, why not, eh? Here you are. Thank you. So, to meaningful and joyous deaths. To meaningful and joyous deaths. To meaningful and joyous deaths.

Wait. What about the guy who threw himself in front of a metro? Oh, um... Sorry to interrupt. I just thought you might want to know. I was reading the news just now. No one threw themselves in front of the metro. Some misguided activist threw a Ronald McDonald statue

onto the tracks. Thank God. Hi. Yeah, so I can't find Pip anywhere, Baden, I'm taking over the outro and... Let me just get into the pip. So stay tuned for the epilogue, but first the credits. This episode was written by Øystein Brager and directed by Pipthorn and Øystein Brager, with sound design by Eli Hamada McElveen, editing by Pipthorn, audio engineering by Dominic Hargreaves,

and music by me, Fredrik Baben. It featured Alan Bergen as the interviewer, Carly Fish as Raven Harbinger, Julia Murisawa as Amelia, Julia C. Thorne as Elvina, and Tarkin as Sheba the Cat. Thank you to our wonderful patrons, and as always, a heartfelt shout out to our super patrons, which is... Which I am guessing is a

really lovely person. In order to support the show and get the bi-weekly patreon exclusive series the Alvina archives which I really recommend that you do, go to EmiliaPodcast.com and click on the support the show. That would really help us out and every new patron makes us really happy. Yeah, I hope I managed that okay. But where is... Where is he? I better call Einstein or Mati and see if I can get a hold of them.

Maybe they're heard of. Knock, knock. Um, hi. Oh, hi. Are you feeling better? Uh, keeping it in check with lemon, honey, and paracetamol. Uh, don't come too close, though. You were really good with that client earlier.

God, I would have just yelled at her and told her to get it together. You have a way with clients that I'll never have. We all have different skills. Listen, Amelia. I don't quite know how to ask this. What? I was very confused today when everyone kept talking about the metro. Why?

So I looked out of the window and... Amelia, why are we in Paris? The influence of Freemasonry is undeniable, but who are these mysterious apron-wearing craftsmen, and what are they up to? For centuries, hater-ass conspiracy theorists have attempted to answer these questions. Two flat-earthers kidnap a Freemason, starring Zane Schacht as Randy Dunning, Lauren Grace Thompson as Gail Kruger, and Matthew Woodcock as Walter Clay.

I just want to go on the record right now and say that I, Randy Dunning, am 100% anti-gravity. Like, subscribe, and share your way to the truth when two flat earthers kidnap a Freemason.