first arc

Pre-title sequence:
An abandoned town at noon. The streets are covered in sand and the buildings are in disrepair. A private detective drives a Jeep through the streets and parks it outside a mosque. (Black hair, big build. Typical noir detective. He will be an ally later. Name… Takeo?)

The door of the mosque is locked, but the chain is rusted and parts easily. He climbs up a rotting staircase, up to a private office. Shatters the window on the door of the office with his elbow, reaches in and unlocks the door. He picks something up from a shelf on the side. (Wooden, shaped like a stubby paddle, about as long as a chessboard.) As he descends the stairs, they collapse beneath him. Show the board underneath him. A sandstorm moves in.

(background for this board: http://penny-lies.blogspot.com/2009/12/raptures-coming-pt-ii.html)



Chapter One:
Mehta (19, light-skinned for an Indian girl, black tank top and khaki capris) sits in the front of a tent, idly watching people go by. Next to her, a young Asian girl sits cross-legged, playing with a bowl of rose petals. There are petals in her hair. In front of the tent is a sign, ‘Fortune-telling, $10’ (currency TBD).

A group of black-hooded monks walk by.

Next to Mehta’s tent, merchant hawking some quack medicines. ‘Rub your forehead and wrists with tears of the phoenix, guaranteed proof against poison and disease! Protection from plague and flu!’

Mehta spots someone (out of frame). ‘Oh shit’, and she ducks into the back of the tent. ‘I’m not in’, she yells to the Asian girl in front.

Takeo is at the tent next door, looking skeptically at one of the bottles of ‘tears’. He puts it down. He almost walks past Mehta’s tent. Looks over again, and starts to walk in. ‘Ta-ta not in’, says the girl in front, but he has already walked past her.

Cut to larger room inside. Small crystal ball on table. “Come on”, he says. “I know you’re in here.”

Mehta peeks out from behind the table, looking guilty. ‘Look, I…’

Takeo gives her a blank look.

She takes the ball off the table. “All right, all right. I still have the box, too,” she says. She turns to a back part of the tent.

Next frame: shot of Mehta running out the back of the tent. Takeo has his mouth open, maybe yelling something at her.

Some frames of her running through the market, looking behind her. Maybe taking cover in a cafe? Or disguising herself with a cheap scarf.

Nighttime. Mehta opens the tent flap with her hand. Takeo still sitting on the floor, looking unamused. “Christ,” she says. “Don’t they pay you to do anything else?” She removes the crystal ball from her pouch and tosses it to him. “Take it, you want it so damn bad.”

Takeo places the ball back on the table.

“Actually,” he says, “that’s not what I’m here for.”

“Fortune telling?” she asks. “Just $10. For you, special price—“ (mocking)

He ignores this. “You know anyone in the market for old games?” he asks. “Really old ones. Sumerian.”

She shrugs.

He says, “Tracked one down for the museum yesterday. Had a nasty fall, and when I came to it was gone.”

She shrugs again. “Maybe just a stray dog or something. It’s not always a mystery.”

He says, “Cheeky goddamn dog, then. Also left me a note.”

Note says: “Wake up, sunshine.”

She cracks a smile. “'Sunshine', huh? Someone’s picking a fight with the ‘Imperial Hound’?”

“Whatever,” he says, getting up. “Just let me know if you hear anything about it. There’s good money in this one. You could upgrade to a real roof, maybe.”

He’s walking out of the tent. “By the way,” he asks. He points to the crystal ball on the table. “No chance that’s the real one, is there? Museum wouldn't mind getting it back.”

“Not a chance,” Mehta says.