Excons Lore
CHAPTER 1 – The Bitter Taste of Freedom
Listen up, pal, I gotta spin you a tale 'bout the grandest getaway ever whispered behind bars. You've heard of The Rock (Alcatraz prison), right? That infamous rock in the middle of the unforgiving sea. You see, they told ya only 5 made it out, then 3, then they flipped the script and buried it 'cause they had too much shame... But the real deal is, ...they all escaped, and it's a tale worth tellin'. Yeah, you heard me right, every last one of 'em... but not like you'd picture it.
Whisperin' Joe had always had a knack for seein' the bigger picture. That tunnel Snake-Eyes Sammy talked about? It wasn’t just an exit from the prison; it was a ticket to freedom for every bloke inside. But freedom always came with a cost, and Joe knew that all too well. Joe, a man with nerves and a mind like a steel trap, didn't waste a second. He hatched a plan so audacious it would make Houdini himself tip his hat. With the help of a few trusted allies, they dug their way through the hard, unforgiving earth, inch by painstaking inch. [...] The night was crisp, the stars overhead whispering secrets to those who dared dream. For a brief spell, the 1,826 souls were outside the cold wall. Some bolted to outrun their captors, while others were driven by the desperate hope of catch them back. The scene was utter bedlam, echoes of shouts, cries, and pounding footsteps reverberating through the night.
Whisperin' Joe, the brilliant mind behind their escape plan, had ignited a fire of rebellion, but the ensuing chaos had spiraled beyond his control. It was a wild, lawless race to survive as they reached the unforgiving shores, and the cruel reality of their predicament had begun to sink in. Before them stretched the unforgiving waters of San Francisco Bay, its dark depths concealing treacherous currents and a bone-chilling cold. Panic gripped as they realized they were marooned on this desolate island, ensnared by the frigid embrace of the sea. The stark truth remained that freedom came at a staggering cost, and the bay offered no reprieve. The battle on the bay was brutal. Officers and cons alike struggled to stay afloat, their strength waning with every stroke. Guards who had once been their captors now fought side by side to save their own lives. It was a surreal, heart-wrenching spectacle, and the waters soon bore witness to the tragic cost of their desperation.
In the distance, the sharks circled, lured by the scent of blood and fear. The same creatures that had haunted their nightmares during their The Rock years now became a grim reality. Some men screamed as they were dragged under, while others discharged rounds in a desperate bid to ward off the encircling predators. Despite the chaos, Joe and his select few persevered, inching closer to the distant shore. The exhaustion was punishing, the cold gnawed at their bones, but they clung to the hope of freedom with every ounce of their being.
Hours passed, and the first light of dawn began to paint the horizon. It was then that reinforcements arrived for the pursuing officers, and the tide of the battle shifted. Outnumbered and outgunned, the escapees were running out of time. In the end, the forces of law and order, bolstered by the unforgiving Bay and the relentless sharks, prevailed. The escape from The Rock was a bittersweet tale—freedom tasted for a moment but ultimately snatched away.
When the dust settled, only 576 souls remained among the living. Many had lost limbs, others had lost their hearts to the merciless sea. The walls of The Rock, as cold and unyielding as ever, welcomed them back. For the 576, those walls would be even colder than before, a constant reminder of the price they had paid for a fleeting moment of freedom.
But deep within their hearts, they would forever carry the taste of freedom, a reminder of what they had once achieved against all odds, and the memory of that brief, beautiful moment when they had defied the darkness and tasted the sweetest of liberties.
Think Whisperin' Joe pulled it off? Is this the end for 'em? All they've dreamed of, freedom, a world run by 'em?
CHAPTER 2 - Rise of the Excons, Origins
The sour aftertaste of defeat lingered in their mouths, a constant reminder of the night they dared to challenge the unyielding walls of The Rock. The icy waters of San Francisco Bay had devoured their hopes, leaving behind only the echoes of a battle waged for freedom.
But within the hearts of those 576 survivors, the ember of liberty still blazed. The frigid walls of The Rock had embraced them once more, but their loyalty remained steadfast, a promise to remember the fallen.
From the dirt of that bust-out came the Excons, a brotherhood forged in the crucible of shared pain and unwavering resolve, distinguished by their unbreakable commitment to freedom.
In the shadowy depths of the big house, hushed whispers of an audacious plan began to circulate anew, passing through the cellblocks of The Rock like contraband contrails.
Their heads were out, even if their bodies weren't. They knew the screws' soft spots. Knew the lay of the land beyond the bricks. Gearing up for one last play, sharper than ever.
This next run gonna be the big one, 'cause they're the Origins — the ones who had broken free from The Rock for a world worth livin' in.
Strap in, 'cause this tale gonna be bigger than the stories scribbled on the cell walls. Ain't just any rap; ain't just some fairy tale. Bein' the last cat breathin', I still feel the Bay's chill, and memories don't fade.
This story just gettin' started, pal.
We’re not just ex-cons — we’re a force for change. We got our own empire, where everybody’s got a spot.
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