#brandon morris

[funstealer]

"Absinthe in the Bubble Tea" by Brandon Morris

[luckyacid]

Brandon Morris Fleshgate II 2022, Polystyrene, wood, leather, sheet metal, metal hooks, nylon

[randall-lloyd]

These are Annette's three brothers Nathan, Brandon, and Emmet.

they're sweet boys

[abrightedspace]

Brandon Morris: Tissu Expanse

[ancientwhispersofbabylon]

[oraclebeyond]

The Eleventh Hour - 11:11

"BLOW IT ALL UP!"

The shouts could be heard from the rig station's "crow's nest" but no one was there any longer to hear it. The entire supervisory team for the current crews had run out the moment the camera feed from the lead welder went dead.

Small explosions rocked the platform and blew the end of the large crane boom which was under repair into the sea. Two men fell after it, crashing dumbly after their tethers broke.

The other five on the platform were scrambling downwards.  The chirping of twenty or thirty timers could be heard counting down to a timed explosion powered by small chunks of C4 stuck to the metal. 

Mad Stan raced ahead of them holding a control wand in his hand, shouting about how "The Man" was keeping them all down, how the men were pawns of a game and they needed to stick it to corporate America. He slid down a guidewire at full speed and ran towards the control tower.

He found himself swarmed by workmen who were left demolished in his wake. Broken bones, internal injuries, the entire workcrew was flattened on the large open expanse of the top of the tower. Kels, Brandon, and the others flooded out and headed up.

"What the hell you doing, son?" Kels' voice thundered. "You're gonna kill a lotta people!"

Kels was Brandon's boss and a father of three himself. A stocky man of 5'8" with salt and pepper hair, he had strength to spare. When the lunatic planting bombs didn't stop, Kels ran after him and tried to take him down but he'd misjudged the larger man's center of gravity and was flung away like a dry twig.

Brandon ran over and checked Kels' pulse. It was weak, thready, but still there and he seemed to be breathing. One of Mad Stan's bombs came to rest on one of the heaps of crewmen about twenty feet away. Brandon ran for the bomb and loosed it from one of his mens' backs, throwing it into the sea.

But Mad Stan saw him and dove at him. "You're just another one of her toadies!" he thundered, exchanging punches with Brandon who was a capable boxer and former varsity wrestler. "You gotta go just like that broad in Gotham!"  Brandon saw the control wand with the large button in the big man's hand and tried to swat it away, eventually succeeding and stomping on the device leaving it in pieces.

While his focus was momentarily on destroying Mad Stan's detonator, the crazed saboteur came at him and leveled him with a mighty punch in the middle of his back. The force of the impact caused him to fall as his legs went dead beneath him from the shock of the blow. 

Kneeling over Brandon Morris' prone form, Mad Stan beat him bloody. Blood streamed from Brandon's nose, his ears, and eventually from his mouth as it began to seep into his lungs.

The remaining crew and chiefs that had streamed out from the bunkhouse began to collect the wounded and make for the life rafts in accordance with the established protocol for terrorist attacks after sounding the alarm. Kels came to just in time to see Brandon go down. "No, we gotta..." he wheezed, "kid's got a family, gotta help him."

But no one dared go near the nutjob with the bomb vest who was now standing over Brandon's still form before he ran off toward his own motorboat.

Brandon Morris was the last man still alive on the platform when the timed bombs exploded, sparing a final wish for his wife and daughter as the darkness claimed him.

[oraclebeyond]

The Eleventh Hour - Ten After

Brandon stood upon the platform taking in the morning air with a cup of coffee from the mess. 

The day's workplan was laid out across the railing in front of him. Seven beams on the boom were to be replaced - all highlighted in red on the diagram from the station's draftsman. Before, Brandon would've been called upon to help with the welding. Now with Miss Moo taking a personal interest in the platform, there would be no more corners cut.

It was a relief, really. He did alright with a welding torch but had never bothered to get his papers. It had been a risk he needed to take to keep his job, keep his family looked after. It was more important than not taking the risk of losing a finger, and had he suffered such calamity, the Daggett policies for injuries sustained on the job would ensure that his family wouldn't have to struggle.

This days aboard Orpheus on this last tour passed more slowly than the ones which had preceded it.  The tall, dark haired man longed for his wife and daughter more than ever. He wanted to bury his face in his baby girl's soft red waves and catch the scent of the apple-scented baby shampoo Mary used on her.

Now that he was going to be home, he fully intended to revisit the discussion of giving Babs a baby brother. Mary could no longer argue the point that she was effectively a single parent when he was away.

He slurped down the last of the vile black liquid and folded up his collapsible cup before heading back inside to brief his crew on the day's task.

Three more days, he promised himself silently. Then I'll be going home to stay.