He could see the bar, perched on flimsy looking wooden stilts high into the air. Trees covered the four corners of the bar and an ancient looking wooden plank walkway led up to the entrance. As he got to the top, now walking on the level porch which went around the outside perimeter of the bar, Agras turned and looked north and upwards towards the sky. Up there, He thought, was where he was going. “I wonder what it’s like. I hope it’s not as bad as it sounds, I mean, being a beta is always fun even if shit does go wrong. But that’s definitely their reasoning behind the decision, it’s gotta be. I bet I’ll be listed on the founder’s blog for the new world at OTULP. That’d be so cool.” Appearing bewildered, Agras jaggedly looked around and found the entrance to the bar. As he swung the door open it once again crashed into the wall with unprecedented force and silence—“there was definitely something glitchy about these doors,” He thought. Entering the hall, he noticed the regulars sitting in their usual, seemingly permanent positions at tables just waiting to be talked to. They didn’t mind though, that’s just what they did, not everyone had cool, fun, and interesting jobs; not everyone was allowed to kill! “Nobody interesting today... hmm, how does some milk sound? I do need some after the killing and I guess the crash... OH yea! the crash, how did I crash anyway?” As he approached the bar, Agras automatically put down his weapons so that he could sit on one of the awkwardly designed barstools. The bartender, il dirigente, looked emotion-less as if something had happened. Agras got his attention and He ordered some milk to replenish his magma. “One milk for the recent inquirer,” said il dirigente. “You sound like a moron...” He said directly to il’s face. But il just stood there, looking past Agras and at the back wall of the bar. Il’s stare and casual shifting movement made it seem like something was wrong, but there most definitely wasn’t. At least there wasn’t a problem that affected il, and it’s not like he knew of OTULP or Agras’ punishment, or did he? Agras finished the milk in an instant and immediately regained his much needed magma. Getting creeped out by il’s lameness, He looked around the room, remarking to Himself that it was just the regulars, “... noooobody cool.” Time was being wasted anyway, so He decided to leave. ##### 16:20 ##### By now Agras was halfway to the bank, it was only on the other side of Nihiri-platz which was not very far at all. On the way though he encountered some interesting characters one stood out from the crowd like Tom Cruise at a gay bar; it’s not like he didn’t fit in with the crowd, but this crazy man on the corner of Huvin and Nihiri-Strasse just wanted way too much attention, he kept screaming over-and-over, “Reeloy 218
Reality Hackers : Extended : Faces of Agras (Short fiction)