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Guess Who's A Secret Poet?Tennessee grumbled something unintelligible under her breath as she made her way into the locker room, a large spacious area in where the Freelancers all put their personal items in their designated lockers.
The mere thought of Arizona done absolutely nothing to cool down her frustrations; instead it was almost like someone poured a shit load of gasoline on a dying flame, only to make it a raging, uncontrollable inferno. Damn that smug bastard! Once again he decided to get unexpectedly involved in her recent mission to obtain relevant information about their Insurrectionist foes, and then when she was merely two feet away from securing the package, Arizona stole it from her grasp before sneering a quick “Thanks” before lumbering off with the case.
What fuelled her wrath even more was the fact during their debrief upon returning to the Mother of Invention ship, the Director praised Arizona for his quick thinking and head-strong bravery when in truth she should have been rece
People Can Change Their WaysOver the span of many years Wash learned to never form close attachments with anyone, for he watched South’s unbreakable bond with her twin brother, North, was torn apart by jealously and bitterness which resulted in her playing a part in North’s death; if Wash wanted nothing to do with friendships, then why did he consider the Reds and the Blues as something akin to family despite it being dysfunctional at times?
Even when he was an inexperienced Freelancer, which often became a subject that York used to tease him about, he wanted to be brave, heroic and strong just like Carolina; he never told anyone this, but during his days of detainment in a mental facility after the Epsilon incident he sobbed like a chid, wishing he was dead in order to stop the onslaught of intrusive memories.
The transformation of a being cold hearted soldier into an actual human being with raw feelings and emotions defined who he was as man right now; this time Wash promised himself his next encoun
The Legendary Heavenly Deluxe BeverageBrandon had never once considered himself a great lover of coffee. That was until he found himself standing right outside what appeared to be a delightful and cosy coffee shop on the corner of Fifth Avenue.
Already he was starting to like it even more because of the name itself. How ironic that he was in the Big Apple, a vast city that catered to the needs of caffeine addicts that needed several fixes to keep them motivated day and night. A small smile crept on his face in spite of the stress filled day he had regarding work. Needless to say sometimes it wasn’t easy being the owner of a mechanic garage for cars and motorbikes…
Pushing open the door, a small bell jangled overhead signalling his entrance, the strong aroma of coffee invading his nostrils as he breathed the delicious scent in. For a brief moment he stood rooted on the spot, merely soaking in the atmosphere while admiring the modern sophisticated décor of the vicinity. Not too packed or too em
The Luck Of The Irish“Crap!”
Instead of asking my teammate, Reynolds, the reason for his sudden panicked expression, I followed the direction to where he was currently staring at. My heart momentarily faltered in my chest at the sight of an enraged golden armoured Elite charging up the ramp towards us with his Energy Sword activated. He wasn’t alone though as I caught a brief glimpse of his buddy trailing behind him, bright blue plasma bolts being furiously expelled from his plasma rifle. Luckily none of his hits found their target as I gripped Reynolds’ arm and then proceeded to drag him out of harm’s way.
I quickly eyed the sealed door that was on the same ground platform, about ten yards away. An idea formed in my head and I mustered a prayer to the good Lord above for a spot of guidance.
As I was about to alert him of my plan, I noticed Reynolds’ gloved hands were visibly shaking. I don’t know what possessed him, most likely bloody desperation, but he aimed a C
The Appointed Godfather“Church, can I ask you something?”
The cobalt armoured soldier gave a long, drawn out sigh as he turned towards Tucker. Needless to say the Blue leader didn’t have time to deal with any pointless problems or get dragged into being a referee in one of Tucker and Caboose’s silly little dramas. Whatever it was, Church planned to give a half-assed response before waving his comrade to one side.
“Tucker, I’m kinda in the middle of something right here so this had better be important,” he commented through clenched teeth. His words weren’t far from the truth as he was thinking of ways to search for the missing AI, Omega. “Has Caboose fallen off a nearby cliff to his death?”
“Nope, nothing like that. Uh, dude…have you killed my kid? I can’t seem to find him anywhere.”
“What? No!” Church threw up his arms in exasperation, almost hitting Tucker in the face in the process. He snorted as though he was
The Spark Of Suspicion“Agent Connecticut.” The man bared his white teeth to her in a welcoming smile, a stark contrast to his dark chocolate complexion. “What brings you here?”
“I need to see the Director. It’s pretty urgent, Sir.”
“I’m afraid the Director is preoccupied, therefore he has strict orders that he should not be disturbed. He is prepping some Freelancers for an upcoming mission that shall begin as soon as they exit the room.”
“I see. Well, thank you anyway.”
As CT pivoted around to go on her way, the Councillor briefly cleared his throat. This action regained her attention, turning her body towards the man. If the female knew any better, it seemed that he had a lot more to say. This should be very interesting to say the least.
“If you would like, perhaps I can be of some assistance to you. I’ve noticed there appears to be...uh, two of you standing before me.”
If someone were to listen on their conversation
How The Tables Have TurnedFor the past two minutes or so, Wash’s left eye refused to stop twitching. The cause of this annoying condition took form in the shape of Donut was currently sucking the last remainder of the thick strawberry milkshake through a straw, the consistent hard slurping noises grating his nerves. Why couldn’t the Red soldier nosily drink elsewhere? After all, it wasn’t like they were restrained by handcuffs in a room and being treated like some prisoners of war like when they first arrived at the Federal Army of Chorus’ base a few weeks ago.
At this moment he would rather be by his own. He wanted some privacy to himself in order to collect his thoughts in a calm manner – a lot of events happened over the past couple of days since their first encounter with the British General of the planet’s army, Donald Doyle. However instead of using the time to merely reflect, Donut continued to unknowingly pester the former Freelancer with how much noise he made.
Never Argue With ClownsFor some reason Grif had a feeling he was being watched from afar. He became aware of a presence trailing behind him ever since he began to walk home from school. The sound of what appeared to be large squeaky shoes trailed rapidly behind him- at first the footsteps maintained a steady rhythm before quickening its pace into jogging. However before Grif whirled around to finally catch the potential stalker they just disappeared into the wind as though the seventeen year old merely imagined it.
It didn’t take long to reach the street where he lived on – it was a fair stretch of avenue where mostly old age pensioners resided there. Overall it was a relatively quiet and peaceful neighbour – no signs of trouble and disorder at all.
Or so Grif thought, just when someone tackled him from behind, such gleeful cackling coming from whoever attacked him. What the hell was their problem? Grif thought angrily, lifting his head from the ground and promptly spitting out clu
Tainted With Nightmares“Washington and another died.”
The unseen man’s gentle Southeren rasp, although filled with a solemn tone, sent vibrations around the blue lit room that imprisoned me. The last word seems to echo on and on, piercing my eardrums, but there was nothing I could do to ease the pain. I was completely hopeless, no good at all.
When the word “Died” vanished into the shadows where quietness reigned, it served as a taunt, more powerful than the previous times I’d been subjected to interrogation beforehand. If only I analysed the schematics, no matter how complicated they were, and efficiently programmed them at such a faster rate, then the security failure would have been avoided.
But the burning question still remained. Which other Freelancer, besides Washington, had been killed in action? I had the right to know because even though the Director assured me it wasn’t my fault, the fact the massive lump in my throat hadn’t dislodged was solid proof
Death isn't a fresh perspectiveI saw my mother
swallowing something small
when I was just a child
The anguish in her eyes
faded, as she told me
it was just a
with a little extra kick
maybe years later,
that's how I convinced
to swallow fifteen,
give me a fresh perspective;
in the end,
my breath reeked
instead of mint.
Our Captain (Robin Williams Remembrance Poem)Oh, Captain
We’ve never had,
A Friend like You.
You came to us as an Alien,
from the Planet Ork.
But through the Years,
You made Home in Our Hearts
We Saluted You over the Airwaves
We Watched You get Sucked in a Game,
And Haul Your Family in the Big Rolling Turd.
You were a British Nanny,
Who was actually their Dad.
A Business Man,
Who was actually Peter Pan.
A Crazy Scientist,
Making a Being called Flubber.
Who Just Wanted to be Free.
You were a Robot,
Made of Rusty Old Parts.
We’ve never had,
A Friend like You.
You became the Man of the Year,
And the Wax Figurine Exhibit
Of the Twenty-Sixth President
Of the United States of America.
You Were the World’s Greatest Dad,
And the World’s Greatest Therapist.
You Had a License to Wed
And be a Kid,
Who Grew Up Four Times Too Fast.
You only Won One Oscar.
But that’s okay.
We Love all Your Other Works Anyways…
We Will Miss You
fall in love with (splitting hairline fractures)we swallow blues instead
of talking them out. oh,
kids like us are specters,
spectacles: boys counting
rib(cage)s & (de)composing
don't you hate
is a vessel
we're deities or tomb-raiders; no
in-betweens for writers these days
Dark SideThere's another side of me
A side I barely show
It's my dark side
And my pride
The time I showed it to my friends
They were shocked, worried
I will tell you what they said
Decide for me
If these are what you call
One said 'just be happy'
One said 'that isn't true!'
One said ' but I've got it much worse'
One said 'don't be annoying'
One said nothing at all
Only One listened
That could be you
This is my dark side
The one that tells the truth
It makes me write
It keeps my dreams
It is everything I have
But no one knows
DoormatI let you walk
All over me
Like the floor
Beneath your feet
And I never complain
The floor doesn't
If the floor complained
When you walked on it
You would be very annoyed
And you would probably
So I don't complain
Because I don't want
To be replaced
And I let you
Push me around
Like a cart
Through a shop
And I never push back
The cart doesn't
If the cart pushed back
When you pushed it
You would get hurt
And you would probably
So I don't push back
Because I don't want
To be left alone
Now, and forever more
Who lets you
Wipe your feet on my face
I love you
But I question
If you love me back
Because who would love
A dirty old Doormat?
It Trapped Her, It Released HerWhen I was younger, and little girl, I wanted a little brother.
So when she got home, I excitedly ran down stairs to tell my mother
She looked at me nervously, and brushed my question away.
“Honey, I don't have time now, we'll talk about it another day.”
I was slightly disappointed because my friends all had younger siblings,
I only had an older sister who tried her best to ignore me.
But that day she heard what I asked my mother and after dinner, pulled me in her room.
And with a sneer she whispered silently, “Mother sent our little brother to heaven too soon.”
At the age of nine, with a child's mind, I had no idea with that meant.
“Is that why Daddy went away, because he misses him?”
“Daddy got depressed and died,” she replied with a scowl,
“But don't be sad, he's in the clouds, he's with our brother now.”
Days went by and I remained silent,
yet I could see the light in my mother's eyes no longer lit.
After my question she w
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