“Come on... come on... come on... YES!”

He pumped a fist in the air. “Alright, no damaaage, no damaaage, not a single hit was made, YES!”

Kala rolled her eyes and shooed Sumisu away from her workspace. “Are you even playing on hard mode?”

“...easy mode... shut up.”

Kala carefully spun the last screw into the motherboard. “Why are you playing on that battered old laptop, anyway? I’m building you a better computer right now.”

“...sentimental value? And a desire to get a few more moments of use out of this system before it—“

There was a loud puff sound, and Valon started coughing.

“Bhfack! —does that. Well, bugger.”

“Did you get everything backed up off your computer?”

“For once, I actually had the presence of mind to do so.”

“Good. You’ll have to play your DS for a while, though, this beast ain’t gonna be complete for a couple hours yet.” Kouroki helpfully held up the soldering iron, which Kala took and immediately started using.

“How DID you get into computers, anyway?”

“Adéle.”

“Fair enough.”

“I would utilize biomancy to repair the wound.”

Tom sighed. “You can’t, though. That’s not even on the list of spells you can prepare.”

“Why would I not be able to?” Thoth stared down at the model, its blue and gold color scheme shining. “If this marine cannot perform such a simple feat, I am astounded he has survived this long.”

“Oh, god…” Tom put his head in his hands. “Look… in the game, it doesn’t work like that. You have to pick your spells before the battle, and for Aspiring Sorcerers, you choose from a list of six. Now, I’m charging your unit. Are you going to fire a snap shot?”

Thoth casually flicked die. “Three. Insufficient. Roll. But I must protest my units being taken down by mere guardsmen so easily. We Astartes are tough.”

“Yeah, and guardsmen aren’t anywhere near MEQ. Doesn’t mean they can’t back a punch.” Tom rolled. “That’s three hits at 4+, and… two wounds. Roll save.”

Thoth wrinkled his brow. “What is... MEQ?”

“Marine EQuivalent,” said Tom. “Space Marines are sort of the average unit that all others are balanced against. So having a MEQ is pretty common in an army. It didn’t used to be like that. Back in Rogue Trader, they gave you the stats for a normal human in the rules as base.”

“...That is absurd,” said Thoth, slowly. “Astartes are nowhere near an average power level. And these units are not of a proper strength to represent us.”

Tom sighed wearily. “Yeah, MEQs aren’t MEQ. Just deal with it. Are you gonna roll save or what?”

~~

BlackMage: And it was like that through the rest of the match, too. And he almost beat me, and it was his FIRST TIME.
0rnixery: It sounds like you just suck.
BlackMage: :-(
BlackMage was railed by 0rnixery
BlackMage: I do no-Hey, no typekilling.
0rnixery: Tom, if I didn’t, you’d just sit around moping and I’d never get to beat you.
BlackMage: Okay, point... but your victory is by no means assured.
0rnixery: I’m a better shot and you know it.
BlackMage: Accuracy isn’t everyt- you just took RA. D*
0rnixery: The early bird gets the worm. :-)
BlackMage ate a slug from 0rnixery’s railgun.
BlackMage: Why are you so good?
0rnixery: I have had a lot of practice. Dagger likes this game.
BlackMage: Why do
0rnixery was gibbed by BlackMage’s rocket
BlackMage: HA!
BlackMage: ...you call him Dagger?
0rnixery: Screename. Nice shot, by the way.
BlackMage: You call your partner by his screen name.
0rnixery: yes.
BlackMage: You are so weird, Tal.
0rnixery: And you’re 7 frags behind. Try to catch up.
BlackMage: :-(
BlackMage was fragged by 0rnixery
0rnixery: Make that 8.

--

Yes, my agents are partaking in my favorite games. Why wouldn't they?

This one might be a bit obtuse, but don't worry. You're not really missing anything.

Zeb hummed to himself as he rolled out the pie crust on the counter, hips swaying in time with the music. Elanor watched him from her high chair, gnawing on a large plastic key ring.

"You want another berry, Ellie?" Zeb asked as he reached for the bucket of razz berries to pop a handful in his mouth.

Elanor dropped her key ring and held out her hands, big brown eyes pleading. "Zeeeeeeeb."

Zeb grinned and pulled another razz berry apart so Elanor wouldn't choke on it, then offered it to her. She snatched the sticky pieces of berry away from him and stuffed them in her mouth, chewing slowly.

The TARDIS door was flung open and the Aviator stepped out, wiping her forehead. "God, I need a break. The stupid fluid links are refusing to synch up and the chronometer is still not calibrating properly." Her attempt to wipe off her face resulted in just smearing more engine grease around, and she huffed and sat down at the counter.

"Mamamamamama," Elanor said, reaching her berry-covered hands towards the Aviator.

"Hey kiddo," the Aviator said, blowing her a kiss. "I'll give you a proper hug in a bit, but I need to get cleaned up first—"

Zeb rolled up a towel and snapped it at her hands. "Keep your greasy paws away from my pie crust," he scolded.

The Aviator stuck her tongue out at him. "I'm not going to get your counter dirty, don't worry," she said. "But what's with the baking, anyway?"

Zeb blushed and ducked his head. "Well... you know all the times I've gone to visit Jacques before?"

"...Yeeees?" The Aviator glanced at Elanor, wondering if this conversation was going to be appropriate for small ears.

"He's been showing me how to bake!" Zeb said excitedly. "Pies, and pastries, and Dawn came by a few times—she showed me how to make latkes—and anyway, Jacques is coming over later today, and I thought I'd surprise him!" He picked up the pie crust he'd been rolling out and carefully laid it in a pan, patting it down. "You can definitely have some, too, if you want."

The Aviator grinned. "Sounds great. Mind watching Elanor for five more minutes while I shower?"

"Not at all." Zeb planted a loud smooch on Elanor's cheek and broke apart another berry for her. "She's been very helpful watching me bake."

"Yes," Elanor agreed, and stuffed the berry in her mouth.

"I'll help if there's anything left to do when I get back," the Aviator promised, and vanished into the bathroom.

The last tiny screw slid home, and Ilraen stepped back from his work table with a sigh of satisfaction. He held up the Character Analysis Device he’d been working on for the better part of eight years. <There! I think it is finally finished.>

“Seriously?” Nume, who’d been reading on his high bunk, closed his book and shifted around to peer down over the foot rail. “I never thought I’d live to see the day. Mostly because I was sure you were going to blow up the RC.”

<In the beginning, perhaps that fear was justified, but I have learned a great deal since then,> Ilraen answered happily. <The schematics Farilan gave me have been instrumental in perfecting the L-dimensional circuitry, of course.>

“Sure.” Nume rolled his eyes. “So are you going to try it out, or what?”

<Would you like to be the first subject of character analysis?>

Nume hesitated. “You’re sure it won’t explode? Even if it thinks I’m massively out of character for some reason?”

Ilraen nodded. <With the more advanced heat sink in place, I am very confident it will not.>

After a moment, Nume said, “All right. Just a sec.” He swung his feet over the side of the bunk and dropped down the ladder to the floor. Now standing in his socks, he held his arms out to either side. “Go for it.”

Having turned to face him, Ilraen pointed the CAD and took a deep breath. <They say ‘here goes nothing’, but I hope it will not be nothing. So, here goes something.>

He pushed the activation button.

<BEEEEEEP!> went the CAD.

Both agents cringed and yelped. Ilraen’s ears flattened against his skull and Nume covered his with his hands, but it didn’t help either of them.

<SUPERNUMERARY, PPC AGENT, CANON,> went the CAD. <ALSO KNOWN AS—>

“Turn it off!” cried Nume.

Ilraen held the device at arm’s length in one hand and flailed at it with the other, frantically mashing the buttons until he toggled it off more or less by accident.

The pair heaved twin sighs of relief.

Nume glared at his partner.

Ilraen looked down and pawed sheepishly at the floor with one hoof. <Perhaps . . . perhaps installing a thought-speak transponder was not such a good idea after all.>

~~~~

I have no idea what L-dimensional circuitry is, but it probably has to do with Library Space? Beats me, I'm not an engineer. ^_^

~Neshomeh

"Oooh, this one's cute, don't you think?" Alice pulled an off-white sweater from the shelf and held it up to me to see how it looked.

"Alice, you know I don't know the first thing about fashion," I sighed. "Feel free to dress me up however you like, though."

Alice pouted and put the sweater back. "But Bella, I want this to be about you, not me."

I smiled sheepishly. "I don't really do much for fun except read; I guess I thought going shopping with you would be more..." I gestured vaguely with my hands. "Social."

Alice caught my hand and pressed a kiss to it; her lips were icy cold against my skin and I shivered. "You know I'd be happy to read together with you, too," she said. "Just os long as we're togeth—" She paused, getting that glassy-eyed look that meant she was seeing a vision of the future. "You're about to get a phone call from her," she said, her lip curling.

"Leah has a name, you know," I said as I pulled my phone out of my pocket. A second later, it began to vibrate, and I answered it. "Hey, Leah!"

"Bella!" Leah said. "Listen, are you busy right now? I was thinking maybe we could catch a movie and get lunch."

Alice frowned at me.

"Sorry, Leah, I can't right now," I said, and Alice's face brightened. "I'm on a date—but I'm free tomorrow."

Alice's frown returned.

"Tomorrow works great!" Leah said. "I'll text you the details. You're the best."

"No, you're the best," I said, grinning. "Alright, talk to you later."

"Why do you hang out with her so much?" Alice said, folding her arms. "You two have nothing in common."

"Leah and I've been friends since we were little, Alice, you know that," I said, pulling a shirt off the rack. "Look, how about this one?"

"Orange is totally not your color, Bells," Alice said. "And stop trying to distract me."

"I don't want to have this conversation in the middle of the store," I said, glancing over my shoulder.

Alice pursed her lips. "Fine. When we get home?"

"Where your entire family can hear?"

"Fine, your home?"

"Fine," I snapped, and threw the shirt back down on the shelf.