the lack of spaces should be enough for verb to zap back in anger

Wind howled through my ears and whipped at my face. I had to stop myself from puking - the vomit would do nothing but splatter up all over me. But still, this fall had to be ten times worse than the controlled one I took earlier in the day. In a way, this dive was also one that was being kept in check by a human, but it still felt so much more deadly.
   After just a few seconds, I reached into a pocket designated for emergencies and pulled out a small metallic device with sixteen prongs extending from it. I immediately threw the asterisk-shaped ball downward with all of the force I could muster. I prayed that Larcel had dropped in time as I sailed down. I heard the mammoth box grind and scream above me, and I knew that the beast was close behind.
   All of a sudden, a subtle blue light filled up the shaft, and I knew that the beacon had hit the bottom. This was proven to be true as I also neared the floor and saw that a giant luminescent blob had manifested itself there. I closed my eyes as I hit it, and felt myself being sucked out of reality. It was a horrendous, sickening feeling, and I was experiencing it for the first time. I had never needed this cop-out shit before, certainly not in any mission I ran alone. Was it Larcel that had let that dick Cable get the slip on me, or was I just letting myself get too rusty?
   Either way, I felt like I was in that weird nowhere plane for eternity. It's so hard to describe in retrospect - it's almost like standing up too fast or fainting, that feeling of unrealness you get. Except with this, you're fully conscious in that unreality. Like I said, hard to explain. But sure enough, I eventually blacked out and came to in a small cot.
   The first thing I saw was a stupid movie poster, "Inspector Galaxy vs. The Thing From The Other Side!". I sighed, as I knew where I was before I even looked around.
   I looked to the front of the room, a raised up area with a bunch of computer monitors everywhere. Anywhere there was a space not needed by a screen or panel, there was some lame poster. The man there wasn't even concerned with me, he had his feet up and was literally playing a game on a few of the monitors.
   I spoke up, asking the first question on my mind: "Max! Did Agent Larcel make it?"
   The young(ish) man turned around and smiled. "Ah, there you are. Yes, she arrived here fifteen minutes ago." He walked toward me, excited. "Amazing how that works, isn't it?"
   I was silent.
   "Yes," he continued. "You know what they say - there's more in Heaven and Earth than what's dreamt up in our philosophy. You know what they never teach you at MIT, not even for half a decade - what the hell goes on there, in that space between worlds. That's something you just have to believe." The young man, our lead technician Maxwell Bosner, was just too much for me sometimes.
   "As always, I have no idea what you're on about." I didn't want to talk about this shit, to be honest. "Anyway, I'm sure the warden wants to talk to me about why I had to opt out."
   "Ah yes," he said, "She was quite irritated. Never seen her that way, actually. I have to ask, what prompts this? I know that the Emergency Displacer is a class-A applicant, and thus uses precious anti-material, but we have enough in the commissary to last us centuries. Why is the Commander acting so angry over it?"
   This was the dungeon: the lowest floor of the WAP Primary Headquarters. It was where Dezel spent most of her time, and thus everyone who operated from this level was more or less up to knowledge on everything, from the Acoit Event to the Great Schism. But there was still some level of deception and withholding of key knowledge, and that was very telling when Max lended a chemical term to the essence of Aco.
   "Let's just say that she thinks in the long-term," I said.
   His eyebrow raised and he was about to ask another question, but I cut him off. "Sorry Max, I'd better go face the music. Let's catch up later, though."
   He beamed. "You down to see the next Focus Fury?"
   I shook my head. "How about we just get some coffee over at Kathy's?"
   He had a smirk on his face. "One of these days I'm going to get you hooked on a good series, Jack."
   "Sure, sure," I said before exiting his lab.
   I found myself in the main hallway of the B4 level. The floor's nickname was aptly personified here, as the cold stone walls and elaborate furnishing made it seem like I was in some ancient manor. Coats of arms and flags from archaic civilizations were adorned on the walls, and I felt transposed in time every time I was called down here. At the end of the hallway was a gargantuan wooden door, the handle made from solid brass. I opened it and entered.
   The room I was in was made of excess. Ornaments and glass displays were meticulously set on the fine wooden floor. A huge candelabra hung from the soapstone ceiling, and all of the other lighting came from sconces on the walls. On the far end of the room I saw a brown-haired woman in fine silk clothing chatting with my partner. As I walked forward, I noticed that they were sharing a cigarette, much to my disgust.
   Larcel smiled wryly when she saw me. "Hey there, Jack. Looks like our Commander doesn't have the same problem with a little harmless fun like you do."
   The brown-haired woman, the great Commander Dezel, had a smile on her face. She took a sizable drag of the cigarette before passing it back to Larcel. She looked to me, her face full of youth and vigor, but the lines in it betraying her ancient visage.
   The smile didn't falter, but it certainly dimmed a bit. "Welcome back, Agent Schuyler," she said, as formal as ever. That was the telltale sign she had something on her nerves. "I was just talking to Avery about her first real mission. She's already debriefed me, and I understand why you had to opt out." She slowly stood up, walking past Larcel and toward me. "But Agent - this is exactly why I didn't want you to use this delicate operation as a learning experience for our new associate. Like I said, Sabin would have been more than happy with-"
   I interrupted her. "You know how I feel about Sabin."
   She was silent for a moment, her eyes cold now. "I thought we cleared this up. Any issue you have with the man is totally irrational. He's your equal in every sense of the word. And he doesn't have the same hangups as you, anyway. Avery told me about the problems you had getting to Olympia." I could tell she was trying to be careful to not hurt my feelings, which insulted me. "Jack, seriously. When will you get over this unbecoming fear you have of WAP's official form of travel?"
   I was so irritated with her, but it would be unprofessional to show it. First she claims that rat Sabin was my equal, now she's trying to push airplanes as our "official form of travel"? Fuck that.
   "Listen, I will never ride another airplane in my life. I've already submitted several petitions against them, which have all been ignored. And now - what, you're smoking? Am I the last professional here?"
   Dezel laughed at me. "You need to lighten up, Agent. Avery told me you threatened to write her up for having a cigarette? Come on, Jack. That's madness, and you have to know it."
   "It's an intoxicant."
   "No different than caffeine, which - God knows - you would never give up," she shot back.
   "Coffee doesn't even affect me," I said. "I only drink it for the taste."
   "No matter, it would make me a hypocrite to ban Avery from enjoying her chemical fix, and still let you slurp up yours."
   "Commander-"
   But she cut me off. "Enough of this banter. I need to speak with you in private." She looked over to Larcel, who quickly got the message.
   "It was a pleasure, Commander," she said. There she went, brownnosing an authority figure again. I could tell she just loved this, seeing Dezel chastise me like it was my first day here.
   "Likewise, Agent. I am very impressed with your performance today, we'll be in touch."
   And with that, Larcel left the room. Dezel went back over to where she was sitting, the little lounge area in the back of the room, and beckoned for me to join her.
   I walked over there and sat down on a finely woven red couch. "What is it?" I asked, expecting a summary of what she knew about the FBI situation.
   "Jack, you know I travel all across the world," she said slowly. "Unlike you, I welcome the recent strides we've made in aviation. You know, it was actually our agency that kickstarted the first advances into air travel."
   Was that it? She just wanted to lecture me about my justified aversion to her pet project? "Seriously, I'm not-"
   "Take all the trains you want to," she said, waving away my qualms. "I'm not here to console your petty fears. I just needed your help on something important."
   "Go on," I said expectantly.
   "I took a plane to New Zealand last week. Jack, let me tell you - if you ever get over your time-bound crutch, you need to take a visit to one of the Oceanic states. There's nothing like them in the world, and that's especially true for New Zealand. The whole place is like a page from a storybook. Majestic wooded valleys and hills surround truly awe-inspiring plateaus and cliffs. And in the center of this secluded island: momentous mountain peaks that cut through the clouds like butter. These spires are where I spent most of my time. I witnessed sights on these mountains that made me crave freedom from my obligations, and a cottage there where I could spend the entirety of my days."
   I was perplexed. What was she getting at?
   "But unfortunately," she said, "I, of course, had to eventually descend from those heights and return to the shallow cities of the country. There's so little to do there in comparison to the great adventures I experienced above the clouds, but I did discover one unique treasure: this remarkable substance." She opened a drawer on the side table next to her and pulled out a glass jar filled with a thick, brown spread. Without even looking at the label, I knew what it was.
   "Marmite?" I asked with impatience.
   "It's actually vegemite," she said in wonder, smiling. "What's marmite?"
   "It's the same thing," I explained. "Just concentrated yeast. Tastes disgusting, what's so important about it?"
   Her eyes widened in incredulity. "Disgusting?! Jack, I haven't tasted anything so delectable and savory in my life! Who has been keeping this secret spice hidden from me?"
   "I don't know, Commander," I said with a sigh. "It's a century old, you should've heard of it…"
   "Regardless," she said, pulling out some crackers from the same drawer, "it's - pardon my language - a damn shame that you don't have the taste for this marvel of cuisine." She spread a gross amount of the bitter condiment over a cracker and sunk her teeth into it hungrily. She moaned as she devoured the combination.
   "Oh my god," Dezel said as she finished. "This is unfairly good. I've almost found myself unable to eat anything else, it pales in comparison."
   "That's too much vitamin B," I said. "You're going to kill your liver."
   "Shush," she said, getting another cracker ready.
   "I'd recommend some sardines," I said, indulging this weird conversation. "Same flavor, but much better for you."
   "Ugh, no," she said. "I ate way too many of those in the 90s, totally burned me out on the fish forever. But you're right, those also used to be so good."
   I chastised her as she began to consume the second helping of vegemite. "You're going to end up doing the same thing to this stuff, you need to slow down."
   Her eyes were closed in flavorful satisfaction, but she began to slowly nod. "You're right…but still."
   There was a silence.
   I broke it with a cough, then spoke: "So, is that all? You said that Agent Larcel already debriefed you on what happened in Olypmia. I assume that means you know that the FBI has been compromised."
   Her eyes opened, their flighty, wondrous stare replaced by a steel gaze. "Yes, she told me. It's good that we've kept a solid cover with our liaison." She almost said that with inquiry, so I was sure to reassure her of the fact.
   "Yes. As far as Marque knows, we deal with an advanced extraterrestrial threat." I cracked a smile and continued with irony. "Actually, he found out our real purpose: we're an 'arm of the executive branch'. We assassinate people who pose a political threat to the Presidency."
   Dezel didn't smile. "He brought that up today?"
   "Yes," I said. "He thinks he has us all figured out. He said that his personal feelings wouldn't affect his loyalty, but we can now see that to be plainly false."
   "You think it was him?"
   "Who else?" I asked. "No one else would know that Agents Harris and Kinsey of the FBI are actually Agents Schuyler and Larcel of WAP. Unless he keeps this top-level information on company servers - which would make him just as expendable."
   Dezel nodded solemnly. "Then it sounds like you know where you're headed next."
   An extraction operation in Washington - but this time, the one on the East Coast.
   "Go to DC," Dezel continued after I didn't say anything. "I'll have Technician Bosner dig up the file we have on the Director. It should be easy for you and Sabin to perform an abduction at his home. Shouldn't raise too many alarms."
   I groaned.
   "I know you have personal issues with the man, but I'm not risking another mission failure. I'll even tell him he has to take a long train ride there instead of a quick zip on a plane." She smiled patronizingly. "Just for you." Her tone was mocking, but she thought it all in good humor. I wasn't about to make myself more unpopular around the agency and press the issue further.
   "It'll be done, Commander," I said, standing up.
   "I don't doubt it, Agent. Recent events aside, you're one of our top operatives, and I expect this mission will proceed as smoothly as ever. Don't disappoint us."
   "Don't know the meaning of the word," I said, some playfulness returning to my tone. I was out the door without further response from my boss, and I was ready to be out her dungeon just as quickly. But Larcel was waiting for me in the hallway.
   "So….?" she asked as I walked toward the exit, following me.
   "'So…..' what?"
   "What was this super cool secret conversation about?"
   "That's classified," I said.
   She shook her head. "Damn!" She laughed. "Should've seen that coming."
   "If you must know," I said, leaning close to her and slowing down, "it was about marmite."
   She gave out a single guffaw. "Marmite? That old toast…spread…paste thing?"
   "Our Commander is an enigma of a person." I began to walk fast again.
   She stood there, an incredulous look on her face. Then she ran to catch up to me. "I don't believe you!"
   I chuckled. "Believe it or not, Avery."
   She narrowed her eyes in contemplation. "Marmite…" she whispered to herself, trying to decipher it as if it were some secret code.

Quote from: SecondClass on August 13, 2017, 01:10:08 AM

ty SO much

you dont understand how much I needed that compliment today

are you mocking me

I am being sincere actually

today sucked

but thank you

ty SO much

you dont understand how much I needed that compliment today

honestly if you told me you were a transman id believe you

are you saying Im fem

side discussion while jake is experimenting



am I crazy or is this photro amazing

man I wish I had the free time to do shit like this

fun af

verbs arg thing explodes but no one wants to read my story

I know this is fake but I'm high af and this is kinda interesting

funny joke tho

how do you ignore ,e site

I need to losesome weight

The brazen bull, bronze bull, or Sicilian bull, was a torture and execution device designed in ancient Greece. According to Diodorus Siculus, recounting the story in Bibliotheca historica, Perillos of Athens invented and proposed it to Phalaris, the tyrant of Akragas, Sicily, as a new means of executing criminals. The bull was made entirely of bronze, hollow, with a door in one side.[3] The bull was in the form and size of an actual bull and had an acoustic apparatus that converted screams into the sound of a bull. The condemned were locked inside the device, and a fire was set under it, heating the metal until the person inside was roasted to death.

keep having kids tho

Adam literally cried his way to victory

my li fes question isnt bait

ken is a traitor