United Kingdom

They/ them
anyone else love avant-garde surrealism?
est. Nov 17 2020

Message from Writer

oh, to be a tree in a meadow of sunflowers ~

Mutual applications are two doors to the left, next to Jules the receptionist and past the upturned flowerpot.
Pay no mind to the floating cat in the bathroom and stop looking behind you, there's nobody there ^^

The Stakeout

May 16, 2021


The city was buzzing with tiny cars and loud clumpy crowds below, despite it being the witching hour and really really cold. He shuddered suddenly as a particularly freezing gust of wind whipped through his cape (the shop he bought it from said it was a cloak but he insisted otherwise), and echoed through the bowels of the glowing city below.

He shuffled on the ledge he was perched on and watched the clouds, now dark smudges of charcoal on a bruised purple sky, drift past. He dimly wondered what it would be like to stand on a cloud, somewhere in the sky, like a bird only better because he got to sit down. He huffed a small laugh, his breath forming a cloud of its own near the tip of his nose.

And yet, the night drifted on. So quietly, so slowly, so lazily, so, so-

"-boring!", He sprung with up a sudden burst of frustration," AGH, I can't take it anymore! Agent Inferno, take me back! Stakeout missions are boring!!!"

There was a burst of static from his earpiece and a clipped voice spoke into his ear.

"No can do, hold your post and stay on guard; this is too important a mission. You know why we're here"

He mentally rolled his eyes and huffed; of course he knew why they were here, and why the snipers were so on edge at their posts, why there was a helicopter with a bomb disposal team on the roof. He was there at the meeting! Honestly, if the operation leader wasn't even going to pay attention then-

"Are you there? Agent Puffin, are you there?"

"Hey! If you're gonna say my codename, at least make it sound cool."

"How can Agent Puffin ever possibly sound cool?," she cuts herself off ,"Whatever!"

He could almost hear them rolling their eyes, and and he felt a pang of sudden frustration.
"But have you seen anything, anything at all while you were there? We've been getting reports of petrol bombs and sleeping gas."

He sobered almost instantly. The renowned criminal genius Dr Ophidia had resurfaced after almost 2 months of dormancy. Although it didn't sound like a long time, it was abnormal for the villain to stay this inactive, unless he was planning something big. That alone was enough for higher ups to land him on stakeout duty for the past week, although the agent was brought to wonder whether it was because of his off-kilter skillset, or just his inability to function effectively at any other post.

He didn't mind the outdoors though; his cape (it was absolutely a cape, there was no debating that; he even trimmed it to be safe) did well to keep him warm, and the wind in his hair made him feel like he was flying. His eyes drifted down to the shifting city below, and he wondered it there would ever be a day where he could sit there and just be.

Of course that was when the first explosion happened. The agent sprung up, or rather he tried to, only to feel his foot sink into the gaping maw of displaced brick as the violent lurch of the now tumbling building alerting him that he was now falling.
His headset burst alive with sudden chatter and yelling from the nearby bomb disposal teams, the acridic smell of burning explosives and the thick pear-scented plumes of sleeping gas smoke rising into the air, and the tell-tale dizzy feeling in his head.

'Detonation already?! He beat us to the punch again!'

His arms whipped out in a desperate attempt as his eyes searched wildly for something to grip.

"What's happening down there?! Agent Puffin, report your status!"

He couldn't talk though, all his air was pushed out of his lungs as white terror gripped his windpipe with an iron fist as he began slipping on airborne pieces of broken rock and glass, and started tumbling into the crowds below with the

The agent swung his arms out wildly into freefall and aimed for the flagpoles littering the walls of the building above the four by four metre terrace, the wind biting his eyes and threatening to send him careening into the abyss below as he extended his arms to hook around the rod, now slick with something akin to petrol-soaked soot.
It was a messy landing, sure, but it was better than flat on the pavements anyhow. He felt something in his ribs give way during impact and cursed something fierce under his breath, but thanked his rigorous academy training for his somewhat successful landing as his back crashed into the bricked walls of the disintegrating building and he rolled face down onto
the paved tiles.

There was a echoing thmp as someone or something landed near his head, he couldn't tell. His eyes were closed and he was afraid go open them and see the damages, or be seen by an enemy. Playing dead was not very becoming of a State Agent of Nicodinum, but then again, this was supposed to be stakeout duty, not the disaster confrontation this turned out to be. His throat burned and itched and he couldn't help it; he coughed, blood lacing his inner mouth and leaking out of the sides of his lips.

Something near his head grunted, and it took all his energy to not let out his tension with a well placed kick. ' So, a person then,' he cursed mentally, 'that may or may not be here to kill me, and it's plainly obvious that I'm alive because that was the most horrific cough I've ever had the misfortune to experience'.

A lighter series of thumps pattered around his stiff body, and his eyes were as shut as they could possibly go without seeming obviously forced. The presence near his head still lingered, and he suppressed a shudder as another cough threatened to erupt from his throat. Reinforcements? He couldn't tell, and he caught himself as his tongue began to pre-emptively slide towards the capsule replacing his tooth. If it came to it, he knew what he had to do, but he was praying to every star in the blackened sky that he wouldn't have to.

His arms were tingling all over, and he didn't know whether to chalk it up to adrenaline, fear, being watched, or his bodily slamming into the wall moments before. He could feel the drift of the wind, hear the desperate chatter of the agents on his earpiece, feel the off-rhythmic thud of his pulse in his head as chain explosions burst and petered out above his head.

"You look like a nerd lying down there. There's no-one here but us, so stop licking your capsule, it sounds so gross on the feedback".

His tongue retracted instantly. "Get up, if you can. The medics are pulling over in the 'copter right now".

The delay between the feedback on his earpiece and her voice above his head was hell on his headache (he was suspecting a concussion there), but he opened his eyes as best he could anyway.
Amidst the fire and the ashes behind her, looking down at with one hand extended to help him up and the other adjusting her earpiece headset, was a dark skinned woman with curled shoulder length afro hair. Her bodysuit clung to her form, with a simple blazer jacket over the top.
He cracked a wry grin, and he could feel bloodied flakes peel on his temple (yep, definite concussion, he might even need stitches).

"Agent Inferno, how kind of you to show up. Always ready for work, no?" He nodded to her outfit, and could feel his eyes starting to roll into the back of his head. Staying awake was starting to become really difficult. 

Agent Inferno must have noticed, because there was a subtle change in her expression from her usual smug and passive expression, as she elected to ignore his little quip. "Get some rest, I can take it from here."
Not in the mood to argue with a superior officer, he nodded mutely and sank deep into unconsciousness.
On a nearby rooftop, a pair of reflective red-tinted visors shone in the light of the flames, before disappearing just as quickly in the oncoming cloud of smoke and gas that drifted from the aftermath.


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1 Comment
  • Stone of Jade

    oh my gosh i love this!!! so well written!

    3 days ago