Ghoti
04-28-07, 09:55 PM
Solo.
---
Ghoti will make an appearance shortly. ^^
"MISSY! Quit pickin' yer face!"
She withdrew from the mirror, her thighs sore from where the porcelain sink edge had pressed into them. The pimple would live to see another day. Or another hour, at least. "I wasn't doing anything of the sort!" she called back down the corridor, sounding slightly exasperated. Mark's plump build peeked from the corner, and even though the open window behind kept his face concealed in shadow, she could still sense his all-too familiar grin. "Of course ya weren't. Silly me."
Now, Missy Peters was no longer a young woman in many aspects. Not quite forty-five, her sleek blonde hair bore the mark of countless store-bought dye applications, although her coworkers could hardly tell the difference (or so they claimed). And while this hair wasn't her most endearing aspect, as bleached and thin as it appeared, Missy personally believed that the simple albeit sassy do' lent her an air of unmitigated sophistication.
She snatched her oversized handbag and made for Mark, forcing thoughts of the reddened pore out of her mind. Work first. Shameless facial maintenance later. "Come on, we've loitered enough already," she said in passing, continuing to stroll down the hallway at a precariously swift speed. Mark matched her pace easily; too many years spent working with her had lodged themselves beneath his belt for him to have not learnt how to keep up.
The pair followed the winding hallway, now an out-in-out corridor in it's own right, wide bars full of captured florescent light casting a pale blue-yellow gleam over their skin as they passed quickly underneath. The only audible sound was of the hiss of fabric and the soft hush of soles against linoleum. Bare, white-washed and coincidentally featureless walls did not seem to bother either agent. The stark decor was a fairly normal occurrence throughout what parts of the building remained open to the public.
Silence.
Then, the corridor ended, pointing to a single, unassuming door in what would be, for many people, a dead end. It slid open with a flourish, revealing a space of singular enormity, comparable to a warehouse or hangar bay. Countless figures robed in white lab coats and black militaristic uniforms milled about, holding clip boards, monitoring electronic devices, and leering into computer screens. The air was surprisingly fresh and even a bit chilly, churned by the highly efficient cooling system stationed in the ceiling many stories above. There mingled a smell of melted plastic and blood.
And in the center of the bay, taking up most of the available floor, was a huge Olympic-size swimming pool, rectangular in shape and filled with placid, oddly luminescent silver liquid. Missy couldn't stop the beginnings of a contented smile from pulling at her mahogany-painted lips. She'd never get over the majesty of this place.
"Doctors!"
A diminutive man with male-pattern balding bounded up the short staircase to where they stood, clutching a cell phone close to his left ear. "Wait -- they're here," he spoke into the phone, lowering it with a beam which matched the sparkling in his shocking green eyes. Missy quirked an inquisitive brow, whilst Mark huffed appreciatively.
"You won't believe this," said the man, practically bouncing in place. "We've found him."
---
Ghoti will make an appearance shortly. ^^
"MISSY! Quit pickin' yer face!"
She withdrew from the mirror, her thighs sore from where the porcelain sink edge had pressed into them. The pimple would live to see another day. Or another hour, at least. "I wasn't doing anything of the sort!" she called back down the corridor, sounding slightly exasperated. Mark's plump build peeked from the corner, and even though the open window behind kept his face concealed in shadow, she could still sense his all-too familiar grin. "Of course ya weren't. Silly me."
Now, Missy Peters was no longer a young woman in many aspects. Not quite forty-five, her sleek blonde hair bore the mark of countless store-bought dye applications, although her coworkers could hardly tell the difference (or so they claimed). And while this hair wasn't her most endearing aspect, as bleached and thin as it appeared, Missy personally believed that the simple albeit sassy do' lent her an air of unmitigated sophistication.
She snatched her oversized handbag and made for Mark, forcing thoughts of the reddened pore out of her mind. Work first. Shameless facial maintenance later. "Come on, we've loitered enough already," she said in passing, continuing to stroll down the hallway at a precariously swift speed. Mark matched her pace easily; too many years spent working with her had lodged themselves beneath his belt for him to have not learnt how to keep up.
The pair followed the winding hallway, now an out-in-out corridor in it's own right, wide bars full of captured florescent light casting a pale blue-yellow gleam over their skin as they passed quickly underneath. The only audible sound was of the hiss of fabric and the soft hush of soles against linoleum. Bare, white-washed and coincidentally featureless walls did not seem to bother either agent. The stark decor was a fairly normal occurrence throughout what parts of the building remained open to the public.
Silence.
Then, the corridor ended, pointing to a single, unassuming door in what would be, for many people, a dead end. It slid open with a flourish, revealing a space of singular enormity, comparable to a warehouse or hangar bay. Countless figures robed in white lab coats and black militaristic uniforms milled about, holding clip boards, monitoring electronic devices, and leering into computer screens. The air was surprisingly fresh and even a bit chilly, churned by the highly efficient cooling system stationed in the ceiling many stories above. There mingled a smell of melted plastic and blood.
And in the center of the bay, taking up most of the available floor, was a huge Olympic-size swimming pool, rectangular in shape and filled with placid, oddly luminescent silver liquid. Missy couldn't stop the beginnings of a contented smile from pulling at her mahogany-painted lips. She'd never get over the majesty of this place.
"Doctors!"
A diminutive man with male-pattern balding bounded up the short staircase to where they stood, clutching a cell phone close to his left ear. "Wait -- they're here," he spoke into the phone, lowering it with a beam which matched the sparkling in his shocking green eyes. Missy quirked an inquisitive brow, whilst Mark huffed appreciatively.
"You won't believe this," said the man, practically bouncing in place. "We've found him."