Kat did not approve of abrupt relocations.

She did not approve of relocations without her permission in general, but abrupt was the worst; it meant disorientation, it meant confusion, it meant she was going to have to get high-pitched and flaily with Samuel and try not to trip over her own paws in her discombobulation-- wait. Paws.

Kat took a moment to try to be a little more self-aware.

Her body wasn't what she expected, but it was peculiarly familiar. Navy blue paws. The feeling of electricity, static-skipping through her fur. (Fur. Why this. Why again.)

Had she gotten ambushed by a DORKS again? But... wait. Wait, no, Kat was suddenly and abruptly sure she was male, and she didn't care to check why she felt that way, either. She sat down, hard, paws a confused tangle under her, and stared squinty-eyed down the corridor.

The last time she'd been a Luxray...

"JULY," Kat yelled, and was disoriented enough that the sound of not-her-voice echoing off the generic walls made her pin her ears flat. "Whyyyyyy."

Logan didn't think he'd had that much to drink last night...

Sure, it'd been a Saturday night (or as best as he could tell in HQ) and he'd been down to Rudi's as usual, and had had more than a few beers (and maybe a Long Island Iced Tea or two), but who's counting?

When he awoke on Sunday morning he felt... strange. Instead of a hangover, he felt dizzy, and very lightheaded. He opened his eyes. The Generic Surface walls of the RC looked blurry, and - unlike RC 8.3145 - unnaturally tidy.

"Where am I? he thought to himself. But his voice sounded... strange, too. And yet horribly familiar.

He stood up - or at least tried to. His legs didn't seem to be working. He pushed himself up on his petals and came upright... wait, petals?

Cautiously, not sure if he wanted to actually see for himself, he looked down. Yep, that's right. Petals.

Starting to freak out just a little bit, he looked around the room. On a desk to one side of the room - or should he say office? - was a bowler hat.

"What the kriff? said Logan. But the mental voice that emerged was unmistakably that of the Marquis de Sod.

He tried to run into the corridor. Or at least thought about running. Without legs, describing his motion as running is not very accurate - but however Flowers move, it sufficed to send Logan out into the corridors of HQ in the body of the Marquis...

Séverine took a sample bite and chewed. After a few seconds, she called out, "The beef is about done, but it needs more spice." She swirled her tongue around her mouth. "Also, sugar. In fact, just bring everything nice."

A commotion sounded from around the corner of the stoves. Séverine scrunched up her face. "Yoof? What is—"

She was interrupted by a gaggle of over-sized turkeys rounding the corner and barreling into her. She cried out as she was knocked to the ground.

Once the gobbling faded away, Séverine frowned and closed her eyes. "Yoof," she growled, "how did the

turkeys get—Yah!" She put a hand to her throat, startled by the changed timber of her voice, and by the fact that she had rather suddenly moved from a prone position to a sitting one. "Mon coeur!" Now that she could see her arms, she realized they were a much lighter color than they should be.

She looked around her. Instead of being in the kitchens, she was sitting on a bed in someone's RC. "Qu'est-ce qui se—" And next to her on the bed was a bright green animal.

"Uh. Bonjour?"

((Edhelistar tag in!

((PC, I hope that leaves her body roughly where you were envisioning it before Pittman took over? If not, I'll happily change it in the final draft so it matches yours.

((And just to head off super-weirdness before it can start: as the creator of the mega-turkeys, I hereby declare that they did not switch brains with anyone. (I love turkeys, but oh, man, a turkey brain in a human body would definitely result in a dead human body. They are amazingly dumb birds.)))

James Pittman could smell something. Have I had a stroke? he thought. I was standin' around the response center, then I blacked out. Now I smell… what is that, cooked beef? Dammit, if I had a stroke, I'm gonna be really annoyed.

He opened his eyes. Everything seemed normal. He didn't feel any pain, or alarming lack thereof. The ceiling looked just like any other ceiling in this place. He just passed out, apparently.

"Laur—” James called out before immediately stopping. His voice was… well, not his own. His voice hadn't been that high since the fifth grade.

He looked down.

...

Well, that was a thing. His chest was definitely not his own.

"What in all the hells is goin' on?" James muttered as he pushed himself onto his elbows. From the looks of things, he was in the Cafeteria kitchen. On the floor. Wearing a body that belonged to someone else.

"This place…" He shook his head. "This damn place is just too weird sometimes."

"No way," Vania said after pausing her game. "I don't believe you."

"Seriously," Doc said from his top bunk. "I only just realized."

Vania sputtered. "But! It's! Right there! It's one letter away! 'Diagon Alley.'"

"Yes, but it isn't pronounced that way."

"You should have at least figured it out when Azkaban came out with Knockturn Alley."

Doc's eyes widened. "Holy crap! That's 'nocturnally!'"

Vania sighed. "Oh my Lord, Doc, how could—"

Both agents' faces turned serious as they felt it coming. Doc's mind remained in the room just long enough to wonder why it wasn't hurting him, since Vania had dropped to knees and elbows, holding her head in her hands.

((It took me a stupid long time to notice that joke. Years, you guys.))

The Sunflower Official had been reviewing reports- an task easier said than done, with agents who came to yell about their last mission, tell him about their latest partner disappearing into the multiverse or dying, or just to generally complain in the time he spent in his office just to work on usual department matters. There was a strange sensation- something he brushed off as exhuastion, or possibly too much fertilizer- and then everything went dark.

His photosensors were refusing to register anything and everything else he was sensing differently. A heartbeat. Breathing. Close by. From him?

He attempted to curl a leaf, experimentally. There wasn't one- an arm, a hand and the very strange sensation of flesh touching itself. This was not his body. What in the- he cut off, realizing the words weren't projecting like they should have been. He tried to move forward. It immediately became clear that this was not well thought out. He stumbled, off balance. The matter wasn't helped by the fact he still couldn't see. Still, he had mastered walking once, in his own body. In some humanoid body- however that had happened- it couldn't be that difficult.

The Sunflower Official tried once more, and found the side of something metal with his new knee. "Agh," he successfully vocalized.

Relishing in stretching out on her bed (it was too dark for her to see that it wasn't, in fact, her bed).

She could've quite happily carried on dozing until Skeet yelled at her to get up, or the console [Beep]ed, but she knew she really should feed the minis. They could be a rambunctious bunch before they'd been fed, and her partner wasn't particularly tolerant of such behaviour before he'd had the cup of tea that seemed to be an essential part of him actually waking up.

Amy slipped out of bed and crossed the room in the dark - there seemed to be stuff brushing against her, which was unusual, but it moved out of the way easily enough, it was too dark to see, and she was still asleep enough that it didn't register as being a problem.

The light switch was in a slightly different place, and it took a few moments of groping in the dark for her to find it. When the light came on, she froze in fright - this wasn't her room!

She looked round in panic, and caught sight of her reflection, but it was a tall, dark-haired man that stared back at her.

She yelped, and tried to flee back the way she had came, managing only a few steps before tripping, and landed on the bed amid a confused impression of soft furnishings and plants.

Eyes open wide, he stared at the console in front of him.

Hmm, must've dozed off. he thought, although he didn't think he'd been sat at the console before.

His conscious mind hadn't caught up to the fact that the hues of grey on the RC walls were subtly different to that of his own RC, but his unconscious mind had, and, without even knowing he was doing it, his right hand moved down to his hip, ready to feel the comforting weight of a pistol.

When he didn't find it, his conscious mind finally caught on that something was wrong, and he registered the different layout of an RC that he had no memory of going to.

His hands continued patting his body, seemingly at random, in their search for a weapon, and he was most surprised when they found a broadsword that he didn't recognise.

"What..." the sound of his voice, and the reflection of his (or should that be her) features as he studied the blade told him that something had gone seriously wrong. "... the hell is going on here?"

(Now in the correct location.)

Sax was brought back to consciousness by someone shaking him, hard.

"Hey, c'mon, wake up." The voice was a guy's, panicked, and one that he didn't really recognize, though there was something about it that sounded familiar.

"Nn?" That came out higher than he thought it would have, and Sax blinked slowly, as the world came back slowly and blurrily.

The guy waving at his face had short brown hair, grey eyes, and a longish face that was contorted with what looked like a mix of pain and extreme worry. It looked very familiar, if a bit off. "You okay?"

"I-" His voice was definitely wrong. Sax blinked harder. The world came more into focus, but it was still blurry. He was staring at himself- the only difference was that it wasn't in a mirror. "What's going on?" His voice was way too high, and the last thing he could remember- "Ohmygod."

"Sax?" The guy- whoever was in his body asked.

"Yeah," he said, in the too-high voice.

"We kinda screwed up. And you were right and I shouldn't have been taunting the laws of narrative like that and this is all my fault and I think m- your arm's broken and-"

Clarity slowly filtered into Sax's head, and through the fuzz. He had a pretty bad headache, too. "Day?"

"Yup."

He closed his eyes- the ones that were definitely not his at this point. "Am I in your body?"

"Yup."

Sax groaned.

Day-in-his-body looked concerned. "C'mon, do you need help getting up? You really don't look good. We really need to get to Medical. And find that stupid body switching machine."

"Yeah, I think I do." He managed to push himself into sitting, which made his head feel even worse- dizziness kicked in. Sax tried to ignore the longer nails on now feminine hands clicking lightly against the generic surface floor as he did.

Day reached down with his- her left hand, the right arm cradled against her, and Sax used it to help pull himself up. Day wasn't exactly a short girl, but Sax, as he'd been reminded since being a little kid, was stupidly tall and still growing. Seeing everything from this low down was weird.

"Which way's Medical again?" Day asked.

"We'll find it somehow."

With that, the two set off, at a slow, and quite frankly wobbly pace.

((Feel free to encounter them making their way to Medical! It's gonna take them awhile.))

(Monday)
Two things were apparent: One, he wasn't where he was when he went to sleep. That much wasn't that strange, he mused as he rubbed his chin...with his metal hand...

...Huh. This was weird. He didn't go to sleep with THIS...he looked down at his chest. Or those. Hmmm...

"I need my pills!"...Okay, that wasn't his voice...at all...

Hopefully Gurgan could figure this out. If he could find Gurgan, everything would be okay. Unless Gurgan killed him.

That is, before being unexpectedly felled in the middle of an early morning meeting with Quen.

There he was, giving a perfectly reasonable update on why no one could herd the metaphorical (and literal) cats of HQ personnel quite as well as they should, when all of a sudden the Secretary's face went from a perfectly healthy spring green to a babbling brown smear in front of him.

"Sir? Sir! Are you all right? Hang on, let me get Dr. Fitzgerald!"

That was not what I mean when I said I wanted the fact of our department to be plastered on every... the Sod did not get to finish his sentence. He tilted, wilted, wavered, and then everything went maroon.

_

Blink.
Blink.
Blink blink blink.

What was that uncanny sensation? It felt like someone was sliding two petals back and forth near the top of his head.

He felt odd: small, and yet heavy, somehow disconnected at the roots and with a rare bubbling energy zinging through his form. It felt like the days of yore when he was just a seedling.

The maroon wave of unconsciousness started to dissipate, and the Marquis de Sod mentally took stock of any hallucinatory pesticides he could possibly have ingested over the past few days. Coming up empty, he pressed his leaves to the—

leaves to the—

Thunk.

Was that an arm coming out of his stem?

Was that a waist...neck...torso...feet...kneecaps?

(The Marquis had not much practice cataloging human anatomy.)

"AAAAAAAAAAAAOOOOWATHBB!" he shrieked, his high, squeaky scream of horror only slightly impeded by his discovery of a human tongue somewhere in the vicinity of his mouth.

All four short, very human limbs began flailing in a panic attack.

(The Marquis did have some experience with those.)

(Monday)

The mustachioed older ghoul looked at the pile of papers precariously perched in the corner of the little RC. "What...how the #@(! did you get all these complaints, Derwin?" He picked one up randomly from the pile and looked over at the other ghoul in the room, who was busy looking sheepish.

"W...well, I mean...It's not my fault, boss." Derwin said.

"I mean...it was so shiny and...explodable...um..."

They were cut off when they heard the noise of Chaos outside their RC. Gurgan looked stone-faced before opening the door. "...Huh. Derwin, somehow I think this is your fault," was all he said.

"...I still think we could have used it," Marvin grumbled, as his body shifted back into is human form.

The unicorn shook his head, carefully laying his equipment back on the shelving. "You saw it's power just as well as I. An artifact of that power would be disastrous in anypony's hooves."

Marvin sling his bag next to the bed. "Hmph. Still though. Just think, killing sparkly Alicorns with killer rainbows. Can't you see it? 'I, Princess Rainbow Glimmer, am honored to take Celestia's place. I will spread love and joy and Rainbows. Like that one. Yes, many rainbows just lick, HURK!' And she crumples to the ground in irony and death!"

"'Crumples to the ground in irony and death.' My, what a way with words, Marvin. I see a future poet in you."

Marvin tossed a crumpled piece of paper at the unicorn's head. "Shut up." He ducked as it was thrown back, smirking as it sailed overhead. "Hah. Missed."

Printworthy smiled, as he pulled himself to his desk. "Anyway, the argument is irrelevant. We destroyed it, and that is that. Now, would you kindly put something on the television? Anything will do."

Marvin sighed as he hefted himself off the bed. "I ain't from Rapture you know. No, don't worry about it. Bioshock. You should play it some time. Amazing story, twist blew my mind. Anyway, let's see... We never did finish Farscape, did we? Cool with that?"

Printworthy dipped his quill into the ink, while also laying his notes out by the parchment. "That sounds wonderful. Oh, be careful with the-"

Marvin slammed his head on the lower shelf, again. This time however, his vision faded to black.

----

Printworthy lifted his head from the desk, his vision still fuzzy from his sudden loss of consciousness. Ooh, stars above. What was that? He glanced down, and his mind reeled with the rush of information.

When one changes shape, it often takes the mind some time to process what the exact nature of the new form it finds itself in. Printworthy was used to this feeling, given the nature of his work. He has been a griffon, a human, even a lizard, once. But there are some small comforts the mind can take in new bodies. Yes, it may no longer in the usual place, but there was a heart, tirelessly beating away, sending all too familiar blood across a body of skin and bones. The rocks may not press against the skin in the exact same way, but the general feeling is universal. Even the loss of gain of scenes is not all too difficult. The things being sensed were always there, the mind is just able to take in a new perspective of it. This, however, was different.

Printworthy could not see, perse, as there were no eyes for which to see with. Instead, he felt the world round him, color imprinting itself onto the mind, rather then being observed. There was liquid flowing through veins, but blood it was not, nor a heartbeat pushing it through. Printworthy looked around wildly, struggling to aquatint himself with how different the world now was. Nothing felt right. The world kept pushing itself on him, forcing him to feel everything. And the noise! He was used to the ebbs and flows of magic in the air, but this was something else. He could feel whispers all around him, the lost and confused, as nearby minds also struggled with their new forms. The psychic energy was almost overwhelming.

Printworthy took a deep breath, pulling in the air through his skin, trying to relax. No mouth. Breath through skin. And the ferns everywhere... Oh. Oh no. I'm not...

Printworthy had no mouth, and yet, he screamed.

((I'll get to Marvin's POV in a later post. This should be interesting.))

The first thing the Bonsai Mallorn did was fall over backwards.

He hit the ground with a thump. The ground was a lot further away than he expected. His roots were much, much longer than they should be, and he couldn't feel the soil around them. His leaves were gone, but he could still sense some sort of incredibly complex pattern of light and shade and colour in front of him.

What has happened? he thought. Has there been a- And then he stopped dead, because his voice wasn't getting out - just echoing around inside his own mind.

His own head, he realised. He had been transformed, somehow, into a biped, with one of their weird bobble-heads and flexibly-rigid limbs (as opposed to his own ridigly-flexible boughs), and... oh dear.

"Buh." The mouth - the bizarre organ by which non-Flowers usually communicated - wasn't terribly responsive. "Bguh? Dwar. Pluh. Grag. Aargh?"

Ah. There it was.

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAH!"

---

((I don't think he likes it.))

Corolla kept tinkering with the surplus D.O.R.K.S. she had managed to claim for herself, attempting to build another Magic-Optical Obfuscation Outfitter.

So far, with no success. There was no such thing as "stardardization" in DoSAT tech, meaning that the device she had in hand didn't have the same internal hardware as the other one, and the Unison Device had forgotten to take notes while she was building the first M.O.O.O.

Corolla jumped back as the machine started emitting sparks. "Not again! Why is it doing that? I'm one hundred percent sure I rewired the chameleon matrix emitter in this exact way on the other one!"

Some technicians passing nearby glanced at her and shook their heads.

"Ok, Ok, Corolla calm down," the Unison Device said to herself, "it's probably just a software bug, this D.O.R.K.S has a different firmware so maybe I just have to rewrite a couple lines of code...

Corolla opened an holographic window and started looking into the coding of the machine. As soon as she started changing some parameters, though, everything went black.

"... Ok, I think I should give up on that thing. I just managed to crash myself too." Corolla said as soon as she woke up.
Except her voice didn't sound like hers at all. In fact, it sounded rougher and... manlier?
"Wait, this isn't right."
Corolla opened her eyes and tried to get up. Not only she wasn't at her working table anymore, but her body... wasn't her body anymore.
"This definitely isn't right." Corolla repeated as she realized that her current body was currently that of a well-built male. Only then she noticed that in front of her was a young blonde woman.
"Uhm, hi? I might've messed up something."

[So, Corolla's thinking that her current situation is a malfunction of the device she was tinkering with. It isn't, but I think this is going to be fun.]

It was a normal day in RC 1817.

The RC’s inhabitants, Agents Michael and Mia, DF, had fallen into a morning pattern. Every day, Michael got up first after his night terrors woke him, and began brewing two cups of coffee. While they came into being, he made himself and his partner breakfast sandwiches of toast and eggs. Just as they were finished, Mia emerged from her room, already dressed in black leather and sunglasses, ready for a day of missions. The two sat at the RC’s only table, facing each other and saying nothing, like they were rivals over a chess board. They each sipped coffee, munched sandwiches, and kept their thoughts to themselves.

Until their thoughts moved.
____________________________________________________

One moment, Michael was just bringing his mug to his lips. The next, he… wasn’t.

He gasped, only there were no lungs to gasp with. He felt… mechanical… there were no true sensations, only simulations. Michael also realized that he was no longer looking RC, but a totally foreign space.

He screamed. A deep, robotic sound reverberated from him, even though he didn’t seem to have a mouth. “What is happening!” he thought desperately. And then he saw the people in the RC with him.

((Agent Michael, in Amris’s body. Awaiting Des, I believe.))

___________________________________________________

Mia felt much the same. Just as she took a bite of her sandwich, everything shifted. She found herself standing, hands full of a monkey wrench, in the middle of a hallway.

But the hands grasping the monkey wrench weren’t her own.

Mia closed her eyes; in situations like this, in which there was no clear answer at first, she let her mind take over and her emotions fall by the wayside. “I was in the RC, now I’m not. No dizziness, as from blunt trauma to the head. No breathlessness from running. I was transported; I didn’t come on my own. Conclusion: HQ-wide body swap.”

Mia opened her eyes. The best place to look for answers would be DoSAT. She took a step forward, and then realized… “I’m male. Lovely.”

*********************************************************

Agents Alleb and Jesse were just leaving their RC when disaster struck.

They had been planning to venture together into the strange, unknown world called “Rudi’s.” Alleb, a knight of medieval-style Alleble transported into HQ by herKing, and Jesse, a Civil War veteran, had been having a hard time adjusting to their new life.

They had an even harder time adjusting when they both had new bodies.

___________________________________________________

Just as Jesse set one foot outside his RC, everything shifted. He couldn’t see or hear or breathe or even think in the same way he had before. Panic set in immediately, although not as bad as it might have been in someone who hadn’t fought in places like he had, seen things like he had, or done things like he had.

Jesse tried to move an arm, but odd images told him that there weren’t arms to move, but instead… leaves? His head wasn’t his own either, nor his feet. He realized with a shock that he wasn’t wearing any clothes. "What is happening?” he thought. The panic began to rise again. “What is happening!?”

He suddenly realized that he had no idea where he was, or who he was, or what was happening to Alleb and his own body. He screamed inside his mind; a horrible, anguished scream that would have broken the hearts of any who heard it. Jesse knew that; he’d heard screams just like it on the battlefield. That thought triggered the images. The images Jesse had kept locked up tight, in the little back right corner of his mind. The images that still haunted him in nightmares.

Jesse doubled over, the things that passed for hands pressed to what passed for his head, and tried to survive his memories of the war.

______________________________________________________

Alleb had a somewhat better time of it. Just as she was closing the door of her RC, she was sitting at a table, a cup of something sweet and warm to her lips. She coughed and sprayed it out, unfortunately hitting a girl sitting across from her.

“I’m so sor--” she began, then stopped. Her voice was different. And where was she? What had happened to Jesse and her RC?

She looked around, then down at herself. She was in a different body.

And it was male.

“GREAT MOONRASCALS!!”


((Wooohooo, Body Swap RP! I'm not quite sure what to do with poor Michael; the Librarian and Agent Des weren't swapped, so I don't know if Des would mind writing for them while Michael is over there.))

((-Alleb))

Cyba hummed happily as she polished her various suits of armour arrayed on stands in the RC. It was not often that she got the time between missions so she was making the most of it.

Eagrus, meanwhile, was continuing to practice his newly-discovered art of spellcasting, poring over his copy of a spellbook acquired during the Blackout. Between missions and practice, he had not yet got around to shaving off his wilver hair, which was still hidden beneath his helmet.

"Spellcasting:" began Eagrus.

Cyba instinctively ducked.

"P-O-R-T-A-L!" he finished.

Nothing happened. He remained determined to master it - in case their RA ever failed - but had yet to succeed.

"Blast it all!" Eagrus muttered.

Next moment, everything went black.

***

The first thing Eagrus noticed was that he was not wearing his armour. The second thing he noticed, courtesy of a nearby mirror, was that his hair was no longer wilver - rather, he had no hair at all. The third thing he noticed was he was standing in FicPsych, next to a desk with a sandle mounted on it. Looking down at himself revealed he was wearing a long, red coat - but he nevertheless felt very exposed without his armour. The bony ridge on his head was slightly more comforting, although it did nothing for the feeling of cold.

First things first: he needed some armour, and then he needed to figure out just how his spell had gone so wrong before he reversed it.

***

Cyba blinked. Then Cyba realised she had blinked - with both eyes. She lifted a hand to her face and discovered a distinct lack of her laser eye - as well as dark and very much organic skin. Also, for the first time in ages, she did not crave peas.

She paused. This had happened before; her minis had once swapped her body with theirs and made a massive mess of HQ with it. This time, however, she was in a different RC.

She looked down at herself and winced. There were no mechanical parts, so it was likely this was a spell backfire and not Mess and Joke's doing, but... she was a man.

Yeugh.

On the plus side, she was wearing a very nice duster coat and stetson, and the few red items in the RC were, while distracting, not hypnotically so.

She had to find Eagrus: now.

Gremlin looked down at the jar of hair gel in her hand, then back up to the bathroom mirror showing the fringe of hair laying across her otherwise shorn scalp. She made an uncertain noise.

Back at the gel. Back at the hair. This went on for a bit longer than she would have liked.

She clicked her tongue in frustration. "Hey Xerry!" she called out though the closed bathroom door. "Should I do my hair up or down?"

"What makes you think I have an opinion on your hair?" Xericka replied.

"'Cause you're the one that's going to be looking at it most of the time!"

Suddenly, Gremling felt something like static — both the electric and video kinds — passing through her brain. She dropped the jar and clutched her hands to the side of her head as every nerve in her body, for a brief moment, fired off. Then, as quickly as it came upon her, the feeling passed.

She stood there for a moment in stunned silence. Gremlin eventually found her voice. "Xericka?" she asked in a faltering voice. "Something… I don't know, weird just happened. Did you notice anything out there?"

There was silence from outside.

The metahuman walked over to the bathroom door and slid it open. "Xericka?"

* * * * *

Xericka blinked. Or at least, she tried to. For some reason, she couldn't.

What happened? She was speaking with Gremlin while writing her mission report, then this strange feeling had come over her. Had she passed out?

She tried blinking again. It was only this time did she realize that she did not have any eyes. Not physical ones, anyway. And yet, she could see every detail of the unfamiliar, spartan room she was now sitting in.

So she was not in her own body. That was obvious enough. Her body had eyes. Not only that, this new form has a version of sight that did not fit the traditional definition of visual sense. Something must have gone wrong somewhere in Headquarters and dislodged her mind from her body. She was now in this other form. It made sense, as much as that word could be applied for something in the PPC.

The Nobody looked… well, "looked" down. There were papers carefully organized on the desk she was sitting at. A brief skimming showed that they were almost all about the Department of Mary Sues. She was in an Assassin's body, then.

She reached out for one, but stopped dead when she got a glimpse of her hand. Or leaf, in this case.

Ah, she thought out loud. This is most definitely a major problem.

"So," asked Sean as the two agents set off down the corridor, "what's this news you've been dying to tell me?"

Hild had wanted to tell her partner as soon as the message had flashed up on their console, but had waited so she could use it as a distraction as they walked to the cafeteria for lunch. "Do you remember that Jeeves mission we had?"

"Yeah."

"Well, I heard the Mini Adoption Agency has a Mini-Jeeves, so I sent them a message asking if we could take it."

"You did what?" Sean stopped, and instinctively flexed his arm as if about to punch the wall.

"Don't worry," said Hild, turning back to him. "It's on a week's trial, so we can send him back if we don't like him. And a Mini butler could be more useful around the RC than a pet."

"Valet," automatically corrected Sean. "But, yeah, I see your point. We can stop by there on the way back from lunch."

"Thanks." Hild knew Sean wasn't the hugging type, so she just gave him a quick pat on the shoulder, and they continued on their way.

"So, talking of Jeeves, how are you doing with the books?" he asked.

"Not bad. I'm partway into The Code of the Woosters now. Just got to the bit where Gussie describes how he's been making lists of people's bad points in his notebook." She grinned. "Maybe we should recruit him to help write the charges."

"Are you sure? Remember Madeline Bassett. Gussie would probably fall in love with every fairy princess Sue that came along."

"Good point."

Before she could say any more, everything changed.

Chakkik had been human for far too long.

There were only two things he could take comfort in; the gentle hum of Mana at the back of his mind, and the cold flask in his hand.

He took a drink, and let the liquor burn through his mouth... and stop there, for his internal acids obliterated almost everything.

"At the very least... I am still myself." He had just filled his mouth with the fiery absinthe when everything suddenly went black.

————

"...where... am I?" Chakkik sat up slowly. Odd, he didn't remember putting this color... he preferred yellow. He tried to run his hands through his hair...

Chakkik suddenly felt alarm at the sensation of skin. He was bald. He looked at his hands; they were wrapped in bandages, and far too pallid to be his skin.

He was in someone else's body, with no Mana, no sign of Stephanie, and worst of all, no alcohol.

"WHO DID THIS!?"

As he followed his Gungan partner through the doorway, Bosh and Guk turned to look at the décor; various pieces of nautical equipment and replicas of marine life lined the walls, and rows of tables spread out across an expanse of wooden floorboards.

Guk scratched his head. "This looks like a boat. Why are we on a boat?"

Woon turned around, beaming at his ogre companion. "Mesa made reservation for lunch today. My treat." He turned to converse briefly to a nearby hostess, then motioned for his partner to follow as she led the pair to an empty table. "Yousa gunna be loven dis place!" Woon exclaimed.

Bosh returned Woon's smile. "We appreciate it, Woon. It's very kind." He picked up a menu, frowning as the name of he restaurant on the front was too faded to read. "I don't think I've heard of an establishment such as this within HQ before. Tell me, Woon, how did you find this place?" he inquired.

"Well, my walken down da hall and looken for da pool one day, and..."

As Woon continued his story, Guk scanned the menu. "This place only has fish. I don't like fish." he interrupted. When Bosh rolled his eyes and motioned for Woon to continue, Guk spoke up a bit louder. "I said I don't like fish! It makes me gassy."

Bosh shot a glare at his counterpart. "Guk, that's a lie and the both of us know it."

"HE doesn't know it!" Guk protested.

"Guk, sometimes I wish I didn't have to deal with your-"

WHUMP

The world went black.

***

Bosh shook his head, squinting as his vision returned. Wait a moment. he thought. This isn't the restaurant. And why do I feel like I'm wearing armor...?

He glanced down and nearly jumped as he saw a human form wearing a red suit of armor. Turning his head, he observed the walls of an unfamiliar Response Center to his right, and to his left...

"Guk?! GUK!"

This was not his voice... and this was not his body.

Where am I? Who am I? Where is Guk?!

***
Guk rather enjoyed his new form.

Sure, he couldn't talk nearly as well as before, but this did not matter to him as he galloped through the walls of HQ, neighing wildly in pure joy. Agents jumped out of the way, shouting in horror as he continued his wild dash.
This was fun. He could go where he wanted, do what he wanted... and best of all?

No Bosh to tell him he couldn't.

***
Woon blinked. Did mesa sit on da portal thingy again? he wondered. Dis isn't da fishy place. Indeed, Woon had no idea where he was... and as he ran his too-short tongue over his teeth and felt a distinct lack of long ears, he had no idea WHAT he was, either. A disguise? Oh, my not feelen bombad...

He passed out in the middle of a Generic Hallway.

{{Original title: "WHAT IS THE MEANING OF THIS!?"}}

{{This thread has been retitled by your friendly neighbourhood Lord Protector to avoid confusion.}}
Chakkik looked down at himself; no, HERself. He had just filled his mouth with soothing absinthe when he had, rather suddenly, found himself someone else, someplace else, and doing something else. Namely, holding a controller in her hands (such an overly-simplistic interface, keyboards were much more precise) and playing what appeared to be the classic Legend of Zelda.

Worse, Chakkik could no longer feel a connection to Mana. The magical life-force that sustained the Mantis Ant was gone. This added panic to Chakkik's anger.

And last of all, there was a distinct lack of absinthe.

JF's face held a look of uncharacteristic savagery as its new occupant snarled.

"WHO. IS. RESPONSIBLE FOR THIS."

~Meanwhile~

"So... I'm you now? And you're me?"

"Looks like it."

Valon and Kala had been fortunate enough to switch bodies with each other. As they had been watching a movie together, this was only mildly disorienting.

Valon-in-Kala's body suddenly smiled. "You know, as long as we're like this...

((Notes on Chakkik, once July gets to playing.))

((First, he'll be in his human shape. He's become accustomed to it, so at the very least JF's species doesn't change.))

((Second, Chakkik kind of feels Mana as a dull hum so long as he's in HQ. If he were in his home continuum, he could communicate directly with Gnome, but as he is, all he can do is cast a few spells: Gem Missile, Stone Saber and Speed Up.))

((Third: One of Chakkik's abilities that he keeps in his human shape is his ability to breathe acid. He also drools acid when, say, one of his Lust-Objects shows up, but he's immune to it.))

((Fourth, and finally: Chakkik is a handsome bastard. He's powerfully built, athletic, and has a beautiful face. He's been quite a distraction to other agents he's worked with in the past.))

((As for my other agents... Stephanie is unaffected and asleep, and as shown, Valon and Kala just switched with each other.))

((I'll RP Stephanie if JF feels the need to wake her up, but Chakkik is the focus here.))

One minute, he was falling asleep in front of his computer in the DoI's Sorting Room. The next, he was in some strange RC. Mind you, this was very lifelike for a dream. The way he was able to smell that ypur in the corner, the way he felt his long hair tied back into a ponytail, and...

He looked down.

"Oh, hell no."

He took a few tentative steps in his new body. It felt all wrong, like he was wearing clothing that didn't fit him. He was a woman, and this was no dream. He stiffly walked over to the RC's washroom, pushed open the door, and waddled over to the mirror to get a good look at his new body.

"Oh, heeeeeell no."

He gingerly walked back to the Console, not wanting to look down at himself-- or was it herself now? Harris shuddered. No matter. He felt wrong in this body and he had to fix this as fast as possible. All right: plan time. First, get back to the Sorting Room. Secondly, find out what happened to his body. Thirdly, if it was still there, make sure nothing more happened to his body. Fourthly, find the author of this mix-up and fix this mess. The body-swapped Spy typed in a command into the Console's portal generator and hastily stepped through the portal to the DoI Hub, still walking stiffly.

Oh, there was going to be hell to pay for those responsible for this mess.

(Seeing as I have multiple agents, can I also do body-swaps between the ones I write? Like Sarah swapping with Ripper, for example?)

"Cupid, I think you really have to stop..."

It was a teenaged Homs who spoke this, trying to console the angel he was sitting next to at Rudi's.

"Why should I? Thank Palutena those fics were short, I couldn't take it anymore!"

"I'm not happy about this either, especially not when your partner tried to use me as a sword."

"Wait, she WHAT?!"

"No, really. She grabbed my legs and swung me around like she was crazy. I don't want you trying to do that to anyone around here, all right?"

"You have a problem with that?!" Cupid cried, standing up. He looked at his Bleeport bottle and realized that it was empty.

"I know two fics involving a literal God-Mode Harry Potter replacement were a bit much, but you need to exercise self-control."

"Self control? SELF CONTROL?!" He threw the now empty bottle away with a loud crashing noise. "I'm COMPLETELY CALM-"

"Okay, that's enough," Backslash said fiercely, standing up. "We're going back to your RC. You need rest, and I do mean a lot of it."

"Yeah, I guess you're right... It's not like this day can get any worse..."

All three of the Homs/Honedge's purple eyes widened in horror at this. He backed away instinctively, just as the poor angel threw up onto the floor and passed out.

Little did he know that he wouldn't be the only one to pass out...

----------

"Ugh... What... Happened?..." Cupid slowly opened his eyes, rubbing his head. Where was he, and what in Skyworld had happened last night? Sitting up, he brushed a lock of red hair out of his face, deciding to take a shower.

Wait, red hair? Wasn't his hair brown?

Springing to his feet, he rushed over to the mirror. A redheaded girl stared back at him, and "her" blue eyes widened as he realized that he was now a girl, just like in one of his previous missions. He turned away, pressing both hands to his forehead as the realization hit him.

"Yeah... I think I've had enough Bleeport for today..."

----------

(Waiting now for anyone else who's in RC #2814.)

Alex Dives was busy fiddling with a Star Trek communicator, his carefully undescribed fire-lizard perched on his shoulder. He sighed and set down his laser spanner, rubbing away the headache that had been building from the exposure to the urple light.

And then, everything went black. Alex tried to scream, but he didn't have a mouth; he tried to move his hands, but his arms didn't feel right. And there were images in his mind, images telling him that he was in some room.

What's going on? he thought, and flinched when he heard his voice echoed in his mind.

...did he just feel petals ruffle?

((So... Alex got put into the Floating Hyacinth. That happened.))

((Zeb will pop in later in response to someone else..))