I was trying to figure out how that was a continuity problem- I guess when I wrote it, I was thinking Randa would suggest it and then glance at Rin a to say, 'sorry, it's actually not gonna work', but now I see how that would be confusing.

And AGGHHH! *tears at hair* I knew being impatient would trip me up, and I think there have been about three typos pointed out now. *bows head in shame* I promise I'll use your wonderful Beta services next time, O Great Greybeard. (Funny story, in Ranger's Apprentice, Will makes up a song about 'Greybeard Halt'. Just thought you'd be amused.)

Speaking of next time, the next mission's already finished due to the fact that the badfic was so short. Mind if I send you the link?

Glad to hear you liked the mission! You can congratulate Randa on coming up with the idea of feeding the Sue to her pet wolf. And I do agree, the poor thing must have been nearly dead. I almost adopted him, but the RC's already getting crowded enough what with the barking owl and mini-Aragog.

There's something just so... therapeutic about punching things. It's when they hit back that you start having problems. >D As a matter of fact, when I read that she left the poor horse saddled overnight, I nearly punched my screen. YOU JUST DON'T DO THAT. EVER.

*ahem*

Believe it or not, unless you wake my dad up when he's trying to get some sleep, he's actually that mellow. Between his relaxed attitude and my mom's uptight, Percy Weasley-ish approach, they balance each other out pretty nicely.

And Alex has already introduced himself on the Board as Kranlor, but he's not much of a writer. I think he secretly lurks on the Board and reads missions when I'm not looking, because he mentions stuff like character replacements in casual conversation.

And thanks for pointing that stuff out- I'll take a look at it right away!

Multiversal Intervention Agency, Take One

The Multiversal Intervention Agency had only two rules: first, no skiving off. And second, no building death rays.

The third rule was 'don't be lasagna', which had actually happened once, whereupon the rule had been tacked on. With actual tacks.

The Thyme Lord would have liked to think it ruled the MIA* with an iron fist, but as it lacked both fists and iron, it had to make do with tasty leaves instead. That is, the agents assumed they were tasty. No one had ever dared to find out.

(Once, an agent had attempted to determine whether the Thyme Lord was really made of thyme, or was simply a hologram. Of course, the agent attempted to find out by going up close to the Thyme Lord...and sniffing. Being Jewish, the agent first made the blessing of 'boreh minei b'samim'--'Creator of fragrant grasses'.)

(The Thyme Lord was in no way amused.)

The Sage, who ran the Department of Untangling, did its best never to be afraid of being put into a lasagna. Despite this, some fear did seep through, to the point where agents were forbidden to eat--or even chew--within two rooms-lengths. As MIA HQ had a tendency to transport its those who transversed it in both time and space, most agents elected to simply leave, eat, and then attempt to come back earlier.

('Attempt' was the key term. It was hardly unknown for agents to get lost in time and emerge weeks, months, minutes, or years later. Agent Acacia had once switched places with some kid with the surname Illian; five Technicians had worked feverishly to fix this, and managed with some helpful prodding from Acacia's friend, the Thorn--well, Agent Thorntree, really, but only Acacia called her that.)

The Parsley Duke, who headed up the specialized Tea Cafeteria, greatly enjoyed eavesdropping. It (or, occasionally, he) most certainly did not relish the thought of one day being mistaken for tea leaves; fortunately, most agents tended to avoid trying to put giant stalks of parsley in their cups of boiling water, and simply talked instead.

"Lady Rosemary wants to see me," one agent said mournfully. She sipped at her tea, and made a face. "I did fine on my last mission, you know. No one regenerated. No Reapers turned up. I didn't even create any temporal paradoxes. Why's she want to see me?"

The second agent (on xir fifth cup, the Parsley Duke noted approvingly) shrugged. "Was it a Doctor/Master fic again?"

"Ugh," the first agent agreed. "I don't remember what good slash looks like anymore, y'know?"

The second agent patted her hand sympathetically, and passed the tea leaves.

(At that point, the entirety of the Continuity Council of Gallifrey-in-Exile blew into the Tea Cafeteria, and the Parsley Duke was understandably distracted. That group drank a lot of tea, and in very odd combinations, to boot.)

"Cranberry-Cinnamon for the Notary," Morgan began. "Vanilla-Maple-Grass for Fish, the Reader'll have something orange with a dash of whiskey, Dis and the Agent can order for themselves, thanks, and I want the strongest black tea you've got in stock. Oh, and that stuff that smells like dust for the Librarian." With that done, everyone but the Disentangler and the Agent left to find tables, arguing all the way.

"Lemon Zinger for him, Blueberry Whateveritis for me," the Disentangler said, and dragged the Agent away from the counter.

This left the Parsley Duke to organize beverages, while keeping a wary eye on the Council of Time Lords...

--
*The MIA? hS, did you do that on purpose, or was it a happy accident?

------
And there I'm ending this, because it's getting long and I have no clue where it's really going after this. Well, apart from a Continuity Council conversation, but I think this is enough for one post, don't you?

(So, how's the AU that no one asked me to write? Talk about 'look what you've done'--I don't even remember why I clicked on this post to begin with, apart from possibly finding out what the missed opportunity was. I haven't even read the mission yet.)

(I'm curious, though...)

Well. Hope someone enjoyed. The bit about the Thyme Lord-sniffing agent is courtesy of a friend, who suggested it.

May we all have very good cups of tea. Yum!

~DF

Bleeprin. Brain bleach plus aspirin.

*headdesk*

The really sad part is I actually cut out a fair amount from the badfic, and I'm not even including the last ten or so chapters that I cut out entirely. And I felt Randa should get her own chance to shine- glad to know it went well! Or , as well as can be expected? Hmm.

In all honesty? I kept scrapping the parts I wrote involving Mrs. Dives shouting at the SO because it kept getting repetitive and I got the niggling feeling I was misrepresenting his personality. Next time I want to write a mission with an appearance by the SO, I'll definitely wait to post until someone looks it over.

And great. Just great. Now I can't stop thinking about Thyme Lords. I hope you're pleased with yourself. :P

*blushie face*

You can probably tell, but I drew on past experiences to write the bit at the end. My mom is, believe it or not, extremely grounded in reality and needs solid proof of anything before she believes it. She's also extremely strict with me when it comes to rules. Admittedly, I was upset with her when I first wrote the scene, but ended up scrapping the original and redoing it.

(And, when I asked her what she'd do if she found out I was working for an organization where psychic plants were in charge and my job was to go out and hunt universe-warping people, she looked at me and said she'd ground me forever. Completely poker-faced. I still can't tell if she was messing with me or not.)

I'd never seen a CAD evaporate either- I'm glad you found the idea as funny as I did! I can't tell you just how insanely OOC it is for Halt to laugh- it takes a lot for him to give you a genuine smile, and I can count on one hand the number of times that happened over twelve books.

I've got the next mission finished, due to the fact that the offending fic was only two chapters in length, but there won't be any mention of the poor sap who gets to deal with the gunk until mission five, which is already started. I'll probably post it sometime next week.