JCC So I've started writing a story about a place. Here's the first bit I have. What do you think?

The smell. The constant, disgusting invasion of that scent. Tinging the air that entered my body every second of every day that I spent on that wretched planet. Somewhere between old urine and rotten cabbage.

There was a sound that accompanied it. Made by all the new transfers, the ones experiencing the planet and the base for a first time. Like a deep clearing of the throat, that there was some enormous phlegm blocking all your passages and the only way to get rid of it was by irritating your throat hard enough that you vomited it up. The invasive nature of that climate hit you in so many ways that your bodies very first reaction was to try and get it away from you.

But it never could. That smell went everywhere with you. Every hour of every day. The snorting and the retching lasted for a week. Maybe two. Some say three. But in my experience, those who had it that bad usually found a way to transfer out by that point.

The rest of us were stuck with it, though. And those of us who survived will never be able to smell anything but that. We'll carry it for the rest of our lives.

What happened that night can never be unseen. They told us, after, that it was worth it. That we had secured a great place for ourselves and our fellows, a place where we could exist free of devil and torment.

But if they had seen what we had. Fought it. Lived it. Smelled it. They would laugh at such naïve thoughts. Those thoughts would be driven so far out of their heads it would feel like they were never anything more than fever dreams, foolish misrepresentations of reality brought on by disease and delusion.

That smell is one that has become an intrinsic part of my world. And its funny how it's been exploited. It's been touted by the spokesmen (Snakes! Saboteurs!) that it was once an idyllic world. A place from stories, they said.

What they never said was that these stories were nightmares.

And I know you don't believe me, when I speak of fever dreams and nightmares. But you weren't there. You weren't there when the hammer fell and our ranks were culled, as if retribution for all our sins.

But you will believe. You'll believe once I burden your soul with my story. When I tell you about my time in the war. What I saw, what I lost. The scars cut into my skin and soul.

When I tell you about my time on Arlon.

I want to hear more.

Ah, man. You put me all the way back there. I'm never forgettin' now. ***hole.

Is it only there that the spice is found? Without which there can be no commerce, no civilization?

Very interesting . . . tell me more about this "Arlon." And the snakes and saboteurs, of course. I liked that part.

There's nothing as spicy as Arlon.

Is this all the JCC does now, discuss ****ing Arlon? We have sunk so low.

Welcome to 4 or 5 years ago.

We continue to sink.

Totally.

Terrible. Start again from the beginning.

perhaps you can change it around, like starting at the end and work your way to the beginning?

one wonders if you actually read the story.

The saga of Arlon is far from over.

Why did I have a feeling this dealt with me..why pick on me? Why this thread?

I'm not going to tell you what "Arlon" is. It's a secret for me to know. IF I ever do write the stories some day, you'll see what its all about. But for right now I guess you can conspire, contrive, think, contemplate about what it is. Good luck.

it is where jesus lives. you already told us that. like 4 years ago

Actually no it isn't, and if I said that that is incorrect.

just because the place in master_jacen's story happens to be called arlon doesn't mean it has anything to do with you. jeez, way to be self centered, man.

Arlon, you may have just won the contest for the most undeservedly self-righteous post on the JCC, ever. You have topped over twelve years of some of the most ill-conceived, pants****ingly sanctimonious bullcrap I've ever seen. That's like out-genociding Hitler and Stalin put together into some kind of sickening, undead crazy dictator patchwork Frankenstein monster.

Congratulations, my friend, you just won the JCC.

I have no idea what you mean, but you can have the winnings as I don't want them

wait so you're saying jesus doesnt live inside you, arlon? rock on, when'd you go atheist?

Holy Christ.