As the limo rode along the darkened streets, all hidden away from the outside world through tinted black windows. “Now Mister President, I know this has been a busy few days for you so I’ll try to make this trip brief.” The young Asian looking man sat at one side of the limo. Dressed in an all black suit except for a red tie. He had said his name was Fang. “Of course you understand...” “Complete and utter discretion of everything I see tonight.” The President interrupted, having heard this already. “Well yes, of course. But I don’t think you’re quite... prepared for what it is I have to show you.” Fang replied, a smooth voice that showed only a brief hint of evil breathing through it. “Well I was told a few things about it before all this. That its some kind of secret CIA branch?” The President looked slightly uncomfortable, adjusting his patriotic looking tie before getting another sip of the champagne from the flute he held.
“Well not quite, we are technically a part of the CIA but we work completely under our own jurisdiction.” As Fang said that the limo had pulled into the parking lot of the Pentagon, where it drove up to a wall. The wall slid ever so gently open as the limo drove in. Where the door shut and an elevator like sound could be heard from outside. “Interesting story how this all began. Happened around 1950s, in Las Vegas. There a man started one day just... winning. Not small little bets mind you. He would walk into a casino, hit the big jackpot at some table, walk out, and have it happen all over again at another one, over, and over, and over again. The casinos all suspected him of cheating and it wasn’t until the cops intervened that the story really became interesting. See at one point a gunfight broke out, and the man standing right out with no cover. Not a single bullet hit him. Even when an officer got close no bullet hit the man before the officer’s gun jammed.”
“Look kid I’m all for stories, but what does this have to do with...” “I wasn’t finished actually sir. See... it turns out that the man had a particular gene in him. We’ve never really been able to pinpoint it’s origin or how it works, so around the office its just referred to as the ‘gift’. Soon after more people started to show up, along with things we had been trying to compress like magic, vampires, demons...” “Oh come on now you expect me to believe this hocus pocus crap?” The president grumbled, making Fang snarl a little bit. “You do realize...” As Fang leaned forward, his eyes glowed and just a bit of his cheek turned a deep blood red. The president gasped, dropping his flute. “You’re talking to a demon right now... don’t you?” Fang leaned back into the seat, relaxed as if nothing happened. “Now then where was I? Oh right. Soon the president at the time, Mr. Harry S. Truman. Had declared to the other nations a plan of action to control all these things. Thus the agency was born.” The limo had come to a stop. As the still shaken up President got out, Fang calmly adjusting his suit behind him. Walked out, shortly the President was led by Fang to a balcony where looking down he saw things that caused double takes. A woman who looked as much fish running to another area, a pair of men in lab coats hastily wheeling on a cart a large container of something lime green and bubbling. A large grey monster of a man with boney spikes sticking out of him casually talking to a woman sprouting large feathered wings from her back. “Amazing isn’t it? I remember when I came here the first time.” Fang had casually came up next to the stunned man, leaning nonchalant against the railing. “Wh...what is this place?” “This, Mister President, is the HQ for an agency known simply... as Project: Gifted.”
The next day...
“Hmmm... that was great last night babe.” Jake muttered as he heard her slowly getting her clothes on in front of his bed. “You weren’t too shabby yourself.” The girl stated glancing over with a slight giggle. Jake just smiling as he leaned up against the back of his bed. Once again the night club he went too brought another successful one night fling. “What can I say, a woman like you makes it real easy to get that kind of experience.” Jake slowly peeled himself out of his bed, smelling the sweaty musk that fumigated off of him. “Give me a call some time, maybe go out on a date?” “Sure, just leave your number on the post it notes on the fridge in the kitchen. I’ll call you back soon enough.” Jake replied.
He never does.
As the woman, with Jake needing a moment to remember her name. Kathy? No Jennifer... no Jennifer was that one in England.... He hopped into the shower, cleaning himself and grooming himself for another day of work. Sure the mutton chops and hair were all a bit unique. But he loved the look, plus it was usually the first compliment he got from women. As he threw on jeans, sneakers, and a gray t-shirt. He went to the kitchen, making a quick breakfast of reheated sausage and a toasted bagel. As he munched away on his food he realized he had left the refrigerator door open. He brought his hand up, making a quick swishing to the right motion. Which in time the door, even though it wasn’t very close to him, closed.
As Jake got to his car, peeled out of the neighborhood he lived in, and arrived to work. The office was abuzz with the traditional meeting of the newest President from the night before. Jake didn’t really care, he didn’t vote for the guy. Well to be fair he was in Atlantis when the elections happened. So he couldn’t really vote... but he wouldn’t have voted for the guy anyways. As he arrived to his personal office, a perk of his time spent working. He started to pull up the news on his computer while sipping a cup of coffee. Heavy on the cream and sugar. “You know you were suppose to be here last night right?” Glancing over to the door Fang glared over at Jake. Who casually took another sip of his coffee. “Well good morning to you too, woke up on the wrong side of Hell?” Jake snipped back. “This isn’t funny Jake, you knew we had an important guest coming.” “Relax I talked to the Boss ahead of time, he gave me the option to not attend. Its all cool.” Fang sighed mildly irritated as he started to leave. “Hey real quick.” Jake said to stop him. “How was his reaction to all this anyways?” Fang glanced back, smirking slightly. “Not as good as Obama’s, but he didn’t throw a cross at me like Bush did.” “Thats good, progress.” Jake joked as Fang shook his head before leaving.
Just South of the District of Columbia, Along the Potomac River
Coal Mining Facility, South of Highway 301
Iikka was tensed - above all else, he could not allow himself to be caught.
He wasn't doing anything illegal - even if he had been, he had special clearance to do almost anything short of Treason. Similarly, even if he was caught, it wasn't as though he wasn't supposed to be there, and it wasn't as though he couldn't have flashed any of 12 very impressive, entire legitimate identification badges (all of which related to listed data in government networks that, nonetheless, referred to identities that didn't actually exist). However, the prey he hunted was very, very wary - if they caught wind that even so much as the police was snooping around, they would drop everything, and they would never use the facility again. It would be weeks of hard work undone in a flash.
Approximately four weeks ago, an unregistered weapon had been smuggled into the DC area. It hadn't been a weapon with its serial number filed off - rather, it had been assembled and apparently never engraved with one in the first place. On top of that, the weapon had been completely inert and dead across the board. Metal detectors didn't pick it up, magical divination and traces couldn't find it, and powers related to perception of threats and essential nature were utterly blind to it. Conversationalists who specialized in talking with inanimate matter couldn't talk with the weapon, when any other would have readily spoken with them. Other than by examination of its basic properties, such as its heat relative to the space around it, its weight and shape, and of course its mere appearance - it may as well have been invisible. The Agency wasn't even able to tell if it had any enchantments upon it, though tellingly, several procedures to break and dispel enchantment had failed to lift the esoteric veil over the weapon. It had been discovered by the the Secret Service when they had headed off a 'person of interest' on a tip from the Agency, and when examined it immediately became clear it represented a yawning, gaping void in Washington's security. Such a weapon was utterly undetectable until it was too late, except by body and cavity searches plus imaging scanners. At a loss to track where the weapon had come from since they could not lift any prints, biometric samples or arcane signatures off of it, and unable to utilize divination or tracing to discern where it had come from or when its owner had obtained it, Iikka Guiomar had been tapped to sort it out.
Backtracking along the owner's footsteps had revealed nothing. Interrogation had revealed he had obtained the gun through a black market proxy - he never saw or heard hide or hair of the person who had sold him the weapon. And it was there where any normal investigation by the Agency would have ground to a halt - they employed many highly talented and skilled agents with diverse skillsets and abilities, but most didn't have any way of tracking a censored item through the highly clandestine proxy services of the black market - that was the entire point of the system, in a way. Most agents would have been stonewalled - but not Iikka Guiomar.
He always knew a friend somewhere, and things always went rather conveniently for him. His 'ability,' so much as it could be called one, was not probability manipulation of stellar luck - if it had to be described, one might have said that he had a highly benign guardian angel watching over him. A guardian angel with quick fingers.
Iikka had used a fake identity and probed the criminal market and had discretely asked around about acquiring a holdout weapon. He received information on hundreds of different suppliers. Rather than going through the list one alias at a time, he instead took a walk on a bridge with it, and tossed it over the edge without even looking.
Conveniently, just two of the sheets had apparently drifted on the wind to land back on the bridge - which had narrowed his search considerably. Several stakeouts and careful monitoring operations later, he had found three underworld dealers with 'censored' goods - the agency was informed, and now each of them was watched carefully from a distance. The moment Iikka finished the job, they would be detained to teach them exactly what kinds of illegal merchandise it was and was not ok to try and smuggle into DC. Then, it had just been a matter of identifying each dropoff point the suppliers used - an easy job, when Iikka was shadowing each one. Three weeks of observation had revealed an erratic, but still identifiable pattern of shipments coming in through the Potomac river. A list of every pier along it South of Washington and another careless walk along the same bridge had led Iikka to four of them so far, and all of them had appeared to be dead ends - except, that when certain smugglers had left from those docks after having made a drop-off, they hadn't returned to their points of origin. They had all come back to the same coal mining facility, each of them empty handed, but leaving again with something else.
And now, Iikka had followed one such smuggler into the facility itself. The employees-only rear entrance, with a sign nearby helpfully reminding employees that it automatically locked when closed, had been conveniently left hanging ajar for Iikka. From there, he had run a straight-up infiltration operation - doors being left conveniently unlocked for him was one thing, but if anybody saw him, all his work would go right down the drain. Anybody who went to such great lengths to censor weaponry and then obscure its source would not complacently assume it would be safe to continue shipping in the the same manner after a shady sort of person they didn't know had been poking around.
Conveniently for Iikka, each door was either unlocked or left open, and if he wascaught on security cameras, apparently the guards hadn't caught it. His only trouble had come in dodging around employees and workers who occasionally came down a narrow hallway without any cover. Conveniently, several of them had tripped right before they had seen him, giving him the moment he had needed to dash out of sight. Finally, having followed his target to a storage area, Iikka watched from hiding.
The smuggler in question was very ordinary - nobody of consequence, as good smugglers were likely to be. He was pushing a trolley with a number of shipping crates that held replacement parts, along with hidden compartments concealed underneath false bottoms. He had watched as the man had stored each crate, carefully recording each item on the inventory clipboard - he was nothing if not a dutiful and meticulous worker. Another man entered, his tag informing the world that he was a maintenance foreman - and he exchanged words with the other man. A few minutes later, he pointed the shipper towards another crate, taking the inventory clipboard from him and marking off that a number of parts were being pulled off the shelf for use. The shipper thanked him, moved the crate onto his trolley, and had begun to leave.
Conveniently, the fire alarm went off.
The shipper, once he recovered from his surprise, continued to wheel the trolley out of the area - presumably to take it outside with him. In the cramped and narrow corridors however, with other employees swarming to leave the building, he was forced to abandon it - which had been the only invitation Iikka needed. Once the halls were empty, he quickly opened up the crate and dug past its packaged contents to its floor. While there was a hollow compartment present, pains had been taken to ensure a search by regular staff wouldn't have discovered it - there were no marks or obvious latches that allowed it to open. Iikka had tools that could force it open, but he did not want to alarm the shipper with signs that the compartment had been forced open.
It was therefore extremely convenient that the hatch literally opened itself when Iikka took a brief moment to look away from the inside of the crate to check that he was still alone.
Inside was a number of weapons - an assortment of revolvers and machine pistols. He could tell just by looking that a number of them were enchanted, and a cursory gaze revealed some that had their serial numbers filed off. Quickly eyeing each one, he eventually found what he was looking for - he reached down and lifted up one of the pistols. Turning it over, he saw that it had no serial number at all. He retrieved a pair of reading glasses from his coat pocket, and held them up to his eyes to get a proper look at the weapon - their specially made lens showing the the gun was utterly inert. The left lens, which visually sorted the world by the underpinning arcane ley of every person, being and object - didn't even show the pistol as existing. He had found the next link of the smuggling chain.
Iikka quickly replaced the pistol and reloaded the cart, leaving it as he had found it - it was time for him to return to the agency to retrieve intelligence on a very naughty maintenance foreman. Deep down, Iikka was actually hoping somebody else would be reassigned to this particular mess - he really didn't want to pursue this particular chain down to its inevitably sinister and dismal conclusion, which would likely involve prodigious amounts of gunfire. Iikka was a crack shot, but he wasn't one for shootouts - the agency had plenty of pet monsters who were better at that sort of thing than he was.
After trekking South from the Coal Mining Facility through the woods and a small patch of farmland, Iikka reached the small community of Morgantown, where he had left his Bently parked somewhat offroad. He got in, turned on the car, cranked up the AC and let out a sign of relief - as far as he was concerned, his day was over now, nothing for him left to do but wait on other people. He was going to visit the agency, talk to a few people, write a briefing, and then go home.
It was very convenient for him that the car bomb that had been stuck to the underside of the Bently turned out to be a dud. Especially considering that the bomb in question was censored. Several meters away, an incredibly aggravated women stared in disbelief when her redundant, failsafe detonator failed to reduce Iikka and his car to a smoldering wreck.
It would be extremely inconvenient when, in several days time, she would come and find him to try again with a rocket launcher.
Iikka serenely drove his car along one of the short roads leading from the Pentagon's Northern parking lot, not even slowing as the wall straight ahead smoothly slid open to admit him. It closed behind his Bently as it rolled to a stop on the vehicle elevator, but it did not descend. At first, Iikka didn't notice, but after a few moments he realized that he wasn't descending. He switched on the video-monitor on the dashboard and called in to security below.
"Security, this is Agent IG0144, I appear to be stalled in exterior parking. Please affirm my status." He said, equal parts wary, annoyed and tired from the all-nighter he had pulled discretely shadowing a smuggler.
Far below, the elevator's various sensors had detected an anomaly - it had a record on both Iikka and his car, and routinely scanned everything that came and went from the parking elevator. The thermal and radiation scans had both come back fine, as usual, and the arcane arrays hadn't been tripped when the car rolled in, plus the Sentient Technomantic Ley Algorithm wasn't identifying any magic or sorcery present.
The car-bomb still couldn't hide from the pressure sensors detecting the added weight and the surveillance devices currently highlighting it while also sending alarm signals down to security below.
"Agent, be advised that your vehicle has been compromised. We are alerting ground security and all other relevant personnel on-site." Came a deceptively calm voice through Iikka's monitor.
Iikka paled immediately, and then started swearing profusely in a panicked voice as he fumbled to throw off his seat belt. In the back of his mind, he knew he wasn't going to be getting home early today.
Boston Road, Westford, MA
Small Cottage in the Woods
The moon shadowed over the area while the clouds serenely moved across the sky.
Takening down enemy units were missions he had been trained for and tracing paranormal activities was not to different. He concealed himself behind a tree without any weaponry in hand, he did not take with him even a sniper rifle which showed one of his best assets as a marksman. He knew that bringing a firearm from the weapons department would have quickened his mission. But with his skills in martial arts it left little to no concern that he'd finish his goal and make it back alive. While he peered from behind the tree he saw that not a single person was around, the clouds covered the moons reflection from radiating light within in the small area.
He stepped from behind the tree but getting ear shot of two footsteps about to enter the cottage his swift movements kept him hugged against the tree, the wind picking up as the leaves blew within eyesight. As he glanced toward the leaves he grabbed a rock and every time the men turned there backs, he ran from one tree to the next getting closer to what they were doing. He leaned against the wall right next to the window then squatted underneath it so he wouldn't be seen.
"Now we just have to come up.-" the criminal was cut off from the sound of shattered glass crashing onto the floor, the man had immediately turned his head toward the vibration of glass breaking. He crept over the window to look outside, but was soon grabbed and thrusted, grunting as his back slammed into the ground. Mackel shifted his fingers into a straight line like he was creating a knife, then chopped the man in his neck following up with a strong punch across his face it which was hard enough to render him unconscious. While his partner grabbed the vial that contained dark blue liquid which glowed from time to time, he ran bursting out the door placing the vial in his pocket so he could release his pistol from inside his jacket.
Turning around he aimmed the firearm at him and fired a round, Mackel was far enough away that he avoided the bullet that had peirced through the door. Which was previously wavering back and forth from when the door was shoved open. When he caught up to him he grabbed his wrist while firmly grounded on the side of the man, he wanted to refrain from being shot, he then chopped his hand making him drop his weapon, turned him around to grab the vial from his front pocket, then he kicked him in his lower back. He flew forward slamming against the ground with a busted lip. Mackel took his pistol and forced it against the back of his head, he knocked him out with the but of the pistol. Then he dragged the man back to the cottage and tied him along with his partner against the legs of table. He walked far enough away from the cottage then contacted the Agency to inform them that his mission was complete and he has a abnormality that needs attention. He decided to take the vial with him his expertise did not lean towards science but the company had many intelligent agents who could understand its contents.
After finishing his assignment he drove back to the train station in a Mustang that awaited him since his departure to Boston, filled with numerous people. All looking to get home or to there loved ones, he took the train back to D.C. When he arrived he passed the junkyard where his old car was trashed, he got into his GT, his eyelids strained from the fatigue he felt during his mission and the trip. He drove down the road to HQ the garage lifted up and he pulled up onto the elevator as it shut behind him.
He descended the elevator spinning to a hault, Mackel yawned stepping from outside his car onto the pavement where many of the agents vehicles were parked next to each other. He decided to stay at HQ for the night he was to exhausted to drive anywhere else.
Maple Hill, NC
Akira sighed as he looked at the house he grew up in. Vegetation had overtaken the house. There was no sign of human life within the place, but the beautiful blooming vines caused him to sigh. This place was his safe haven when he was younger. He remembered all the good times he had in the house he stood in front of. There was no bringing back the condemned state of the house. Still one could hope for things to be as they once were; however, now he had a different life. His life now was far away from where he began. North Carolina, a place he never thought he’d make it in. He loved his state, but it had a lot of growing to do. It had already come so far, and he was appreciative of the things that had happened so far. He stood there, his car in the distance, parked by an old shade tree. He looked over at the tree and sighed
“You’re still standing after all these years.......”
His grandparents were dead, his mother was still alive but his father was dead as well. He could only reminisce about the things they had done. He looked over at the garden that had once grew lavish vegetables and fruit. It was now a dry patch of grass. He often came here to get away from all the stuff that happened at HQ. Project Gifted was his family now. He was dead to his real family. No one knew he was still alive, and he had to keep it that way.
“Babe, you okay?” Darryn asked as he walked up behind Akira, wrapping his arms around him lovingly, “you’ve been out here for a few hours.”
“Yea, I’m fine baby,” Akira stated. Darryn, like Akira, was an agent of the CIA, and Akira had met him on a mission. The two clicked and have been dating for nearly two years now. Their anniversary was coming up soon and he was excited. He was shooting for a vacation in Las Vegas, but he didn’t want Darryn to know until they got there. “We can leave.”
The drive back to the airport was a silent one, they often were. Akira often thought about his past and Darryn was there to console him.
“So when are you going to meet my parents? It’s been two years, and they really want to meet you Akira,” Darryn stated with a smile.
“This Thanksgiving?” Akira replied as he looked over at Darryn who sighed, “But I promise to try and make it to whatever dinner you set up.” Darryn smiled at that response and leaned over to kiss Akira softly on the lips before adjusting himself in the seat as the pulled into the airport. It was time to get back to Washington, D.C. Sadly he would miss North Carolina, but this was best for him. He currently lived in D.C. but Darryn lived in California so they spent time whenever they could with one another. Darryn took Akira’s hand in his own and returned his gaze to the road ahead. They were silent, but the drive would soon be over considering Akira had to be back at HQ.
Driving up to the security gate, Akira could only smile. Darryn had done what he did best the night before. He had eased his pains and nearly eliminated his stress. He wished he didn’t have to show up, but they were introducing themselves to the President, and Darryn had been asleep when he left. Doing what he normally did, he drove straight towards the wall of the Pentagon only for it to open up and swallow the car whole. The advancement in technology was astounding. Soon he was moving and heading towards his desk while his car was being put away. Overhearing Fang and Jake, Akira shook his head.
He said nothing as he kept walking.
One Year Prior...
“Who are you?”
“Wrong! The question should be ‘what are you?’ while the two questions might seem similar, the second is what you are really trying to ask.” A man that appeared to be in his early forties said. He seemed to be an average looking man, except his eyes was an odd color of yellow, similar to an owl. With those eyes, the man observed the girl carefully, knowing that the next couple minutes were vital and needed to be tread with caution. “Alright then, what are if my mind me asking.” Jamie said in a slight apprehensive tone. There was something odd about this man who came to visit her the third day in the hospital. While she couldn’t put her finger on it, she wasn’t too sure what to think about him. “Not a human if that is what you are wondering. While describing exactly what I am might be an interest, I’m not here to bring a discussion about me, but rather about you. The man said with a slight chucked as Jamie looked at the man with confusion. “There are strange phenomena in this world Jamie, things that can’t be described within the normal mindset of a person. You are one of those things kid. Nobody should have survived the wreck you were in, but here you are with minor injuries. If my records are right, a similar incident happened when you were a child, but rather inside of a building. These might seem like pure luck or something of that sorts. However, that’s untrue. You have abilities beyond your wildest dreams and with the right training you will do things that you would believe to be impossible.” Standing up, the man walked to the door and before exiting he turned to Jamie. “You will be released at the end of the week from the hospital and at that time, there will be a car waiting for you if you decide to join. I left some information on your bedside table, read it carefully. You have until the end of the week to decide to you’d like to join.”
“Crap! It’s that time already!” Jamie exclaimed as she rolled out of her bed and fell onto the floor with a loud thud. Grabbing her alarm clock that rested on her bedside table, she studied the alarm with disbelief. “No, I can’t be late.” Jamie said as she scrambled to her feet. Placing the alarm back on the table, she rushed to get ready for the day as she thought about her reoccurring dream about the day she could out about the agency. After throwing on a pair of jeans and a black short sleeved sweatshirt as well as her specialized boots that nearly always wear, Jamie headed out the door. Luckily, she still lived at the agency’s living quarters so she didn’t have far to go. However, as she started to head out, there was someone already there waiting for her. Dressed in a sleeveless top with a loose hoodie, yoga pants, and a pair of sneakers. The young woman, although still older than Jamie, had a nice, warm smile on her face as she greeted her. "Hi! You're Jamie Wells I take it?" The woman asked extending a hand. "Kyrie Miyama..." "Oh, yeah. That's me!" Jamie exclaimed surprised with the sudden appearance of the woman. "It's nice to meet you Kyrie. I'm guessing you're the person I was supposed to meet today?"
"The one and only." Kyrie said warmly as the two shook hands. Jamie's hand causing Kyrie's to squish slightly in which Jamie jumped back with a surprised reaction. "Oh sorry, yeah I'm pretty elastic as my thing. Basically the higher ups usually want newer agents to work with older agents. Slide into the job after training and all that." Kyrie had with her a manilla folder which she passed over to Jamie. "Oh before I forget these are some papers you need to sign. Red tape stuff, nothing too horrible." As she motioned Jamie to follow along with a wave she started to head back to the offices. "I hope you didn't mind me coming straight to your dorm like that. I just don't like the idea of newer agents having to go wandering around this place trying to find where they need to go. Really not the kind of place to have to be lost in." Following the woman, Jamie nodded in response as she opened up the folder and scribbled her signature in the appropriate location. "Thanks, I was a bit concerned on finding out where I should go. Even though I've had a year of training everything is still quite new and sometimes even bizarre to me." "Trust me, everything from the first year on is going to be weird. You'll get used to it, as odd as that might feel right now." She took back the folder and paperwork from Jamie, and sure enough the person who needed them approached. "Oh Fang perfect timing. Here's Jamie's insurance forms." The young Asian man gracefully took them from Kyrie. "Ah thank you, and you must be the new agent herself." Fang extended a hand. "Fang Xin Lang, chief lawyer for the agency." "It's nice to meet you Mr. Lang, hopefully I won't be getting on your bad side anytime soon." Jamie said jokingly as she shook the man's hand. Though afterwards Fang gently kneeled down, kissing her hand on the back. "I would most certainly hope not. Now if you two ladies will excuse me."
As he left the two Kyrie giggled to herself. "You know you might not want to get on his bad side regardless... because his actually a demon you know. Well half demon... but still." "A demon? Really I would have never guessed that." Jamie said as she watched the man walk away surprised at his gesture. "Yeah, I think it’s also why his a lawyer too... just between you and me." Kyrie joked with a smile glancing back. "Anyways from here we can either head over to the armory, and get you a gun to start with. Head over to the car garage and get you something to get around in. Or we can just go relax in my office until duty calls, your choice really." Kyrie stated looking over to Jamie. "Hmm..." Jamie mumbled as she thought over her options. While she knew that the agency would like her to have a gun, it wasn't required since she had her own ammunition she could use from her abilities. While she wasn't too fond of cars since the accident, she knew that it would be the best choice since it would be wise to get something handled before she was called into duty. "Okay, why don't we check the cars out?"
"Sambandhi Para..." "EEEHHHNT"
"Paramaina Nipootoo" "EEH... oh come on, you did that one on purpose!"
One of the lounges of the Agency's headquarters was all abussel with some of the greener personnel taking part in one of the handful of more abnormal, or normal depending on how you look at it, ways to pass a bit of free time during breaks. In this case, they were taking turns betting and trying to pronounce Sam's full name, and on the table sat a neatly stacked and tied collection of dollar bills that numbered roughly 1200, to which another dollar would be added for each failed guess, a collection that would go to the person to get his entire name right... not many even came close so far and the bills were piling into a neat little jackpot.
"Alright boys, that's enough for today." After a little sudden protecting "OI!, 50 guess in one break is a new record, and you all have work to do, so hop to." It wasn't so much that he was demanding they get back to work or anything, but half his own break had already been absorbed in the usual sputter fest that name guessing often turned into and he didn't want 'all' of his free time to be yammering with people who have no concept of pronouncing foreign names... they lingered a bit though, nothing a little 'red eye' couldn't fix... Once the rookie's had properly cleared out he returned to his coffee, which had now cooled just enough to be comfortably hot, and took a nice long slurp from it followed by a deep relaxed sigh...... Not everyone needs a wild hobby to monopolize their free-time... sometimes when you've lived for more centuries than some people can count, it's practically heavenly to just lay back and do absolutely 'nothing' for a while.
A short while later a panting frantic lab tech sprinted into the same lounge that had Sam in it, immediately leading to him chuckling "Hahah, 5 Minutes and 27 Seconds, that's a new record... So what blew up this time Ricky?"
Ricky is one of the lab assistants/over-seer's assigned to Sam's personal Laboratory, both to help out and to make sure he's not secretly carrying out any potentially catastrophic experiments in there...
Ricky stopped quite suddenly and looked confused, then quickly shook his head and waved "What? nonono! nothing's blown up this time, but... Was the president here yesterday? I heard he was, how the hell did I miss that? did you see him? what was he like? is he gonna help fund the science department this time? PLEASE at least tell me he's not like obama."
Sam Burst out laughing at the frantic young man and quite suddenly flung a wet tea-bag at him, Where did he get it? Nobody knows, which plapped him right in the fore-head and stuck there for a moment before running down "Damn boy, no emergency and you're still flippin your shit, I was surprised yer ass wasn't on fire...... As for the president, you were probably just lost in the act of spying on me constantly, I tasted that typical rush of fear in the air just like every other recent president who's been brought down here for the first time, wasn't nearly as strong as bush's spaz out, but tasty none the less, exotic if you will... Of course he was brought by the labs on the little tour, I got to mess with him a little, you know, the little 'first meeting Mirror effect', you know the one? I didn't get bush with it till he was on his way out of the facility... I swear, farmboy bout pissed himself... This one though, well, I guess fang cushioned him with some shock value prior to anticipating my appearance, he didn't jump quite as hard... Surprise is still Tasty though... so was you're panic while running down the hall for the last 5 minutes."
Ricky visibly shuddered at a couple bits of Sam's explanation of some moments of the past and shook his head "AGH, Stop that, it's still disturbing when you talk about emotions like food, It's just not natural... Neither is turning pink in the middle of a conversation."
Yes, Sam turned from his usual white fur to pink just to mess with him "Well... Duh, I'm 'not' natural... and besides that, 'natural' and 'normal' are all objective terms you humans have coined, like you're the absolute experts on what constitutes the 'norm' of sentient life... seriously, for 2000 years you're kind hardly ever 'noticed' us unless we got right in your face and started killing people... granted, there were enough already doing that, and even then..."
"GYAH, STOP, Stop putting logic and common sense into my unstable panicked ramblings, why do I bother?!" Ricky just as suddenly as before sprints back out of the Break room and down the hall, now with a bit of anger mixed in too... Leading to Sam chuckling playfully to himself... The boy was young and inexperienced with 'creatures' and tended to reach his limit of 'sanity straining' quickly, which Sam liked, it made him fun to have around, but when he tries he really is a good lab tech...
With the Interuption out of the way Sam returned to leisurely sipping his coffee and relaxing... determined to use the remaining 7 minutes of his break to the fullest extent of laziness and Relaxation until his time was up... or until it as interrupted once more.