Subject: Benoît craned his neck around at the mention of Kalos...
Author:
Posted on: 2015-02-20 21:52:00 UTC
...and came face-to-face with the Skarmory. "Oh, hello. Sorry, I didn't notice you back there. You were saying about Kalos?"
From across the table, Owen shot Cupid a dirty look. The angel's Aura was somewhat akin to an air horn: loud, flashy, and impossible to miss.
It's hard work, protecting the entirety of known reality. Sometimes, before you can get back to pushing back the Urple hordes, you need to take a moment for yourself and have a drink.
You find yourself with some free time, and have decided to spend it at Rudi's pub. The drink is flowing, the food served steaming hot, and various unofficial games are being played throughout the pub. How you chose to relax is your choice. It's your break, after all.
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Welcome to a very informal RP thread! No special events. No threat of Weeping Angles in HQ. Not a single Sue to be found (excepting reformed Sue agents, naturally). Just walk in, have a drink, and talk to your fellow agents. There are a few ground rules:
1. NO MAJOR EVENTS
This is an opportunity for agents to interact and relax after a long day of Sue Slaying. This means, no surprise Sues, no agents snapping and going Flamethrower Crazy, no bar fights. You should get the idea. This is a peaceful RP. If you want agents to organize a game of blackjack or a dance off or something, go for it. Just, nothing violent that would be overly distracting for the other patrons.
2. YOUR AGENTS CAN AND WILL BE REFERENCED
This RP is going to be the background for a Marvin and Printworthy interlude I am writing. By participating in this thread, you grant me permission to reference your agents and their activities in the interlude. They will not be directly used by me unless I have one of the characters in the interlude interact with you in the RP. Because of this...
3. FEEL FREE TO PARTICIPATE IF YOU DO NOT HAVE PERMISSION, JUST INFORM ME
In RPs, you are always allowed to have unofficial agents. Interludes, however, are another thing. If you do not have Permission, please mark somewhere in your first post with the unofficial agents that you do not yet have permission. All this means is that your agents will not be referenced in the interlude (though their actions might, depending). Otherwise, do whatever you want.
4. BE RESPECTFUL
This goes without saying. Respect your fellow PPCers, please. Agents can be insulting if they want, though. Just make sure its in character, fellas. ;)
5. HAVE SOME FUN!
This is a pub! Laugh, joke, make merry! Just have some fun, darn it!
That should be it for the rules. When the interlude is finished, I'll post it both on the board and here. After that, feel free to react in-character to the things that happen in the interlude.
"But, Ginger," Alloy is saying, "you are not old enough!"
Ginger laughs. "And *I'm* the Hermione replacement? 'Sides, I'm old enough for a witch!"
"You are?" Alloy asks. She looks around. "Oh, my. We seem to be in a bar."
"Nice observation," Ginger says dryly. "Oh, hey! That girl over with all those people might have strawberries for hair, but she's pretty cute!"
"Ginger!" Alloy blushes -- she is, after all, from an anime continuumn -- and lightly smacks Ginger's shoulder. "Do not be rude!"
"It's not like I'm going up to her and saying 'Hi, I think you're cute!' She's already surrounded by people, anyway."
"That is no reason to be rude, Ginger."
Ginger shrugs. "Fine. Be all proper if you want. I'm gonna go introduce myself." She walks up to Rina's table and eyes the crowd. "Seems like half the bar is here." Eventually, she finds an opening. "Hey!" she shouts over the noise of the bar. "My name's Ginger! Who're you?"
Alloy starts towards the table herself, fearing what sort of trouble her more social partner might get into.
Rina looked up in surprise. "Ginger-Wise?" she asked, her eyes going wide. "And..." she frowned for a moment, forcing her fuzzy human memories into focus. "Alloy! Wow, how are you two doing?"
"Huh? How do you know my name?" asks Ginger. "I mean, my old name."
Alloy tilts her head. "I am sorry, I cannot recall where I might have met you. I am doing alright, I think? I apologize if my partner has done anything to offend you."
((I'd place this after Ginger and Alloy's unpublished second interlude and mission.)$
Rina's face reddened again. "Uh, I'm Rina. Long story."
"I... what?" Ginger asks. "Is this a disguise generator party or something?"
Alloy says, "Wait, Rina? I heard you saved my life back in my first mission; it is a bit fuzzy. I never got a chance to say thank you." She smiles. "Thank you, Rina."
"I mean, anyone would've done it."
Rina turned to Ginger and grimaced. "Um, no, it's not a disguise generator party, sorry. I... eh, had a bit of an accident, you could say."
((Psst, we like to use past tense for RPs. Keeps things consistent.))
Alloy gave Ginger a nervous glance. "She is prying again, I am afraid. I apologize."
Ginger snorted. "I just want to know what sort of an accident turns someone like Rina was into, uh, that!" She gestured at Rina. "I mean, did a Sue manage to perma-Transfigure you or something? Get your drink swapped with Polyjuice? Discover you were secretly a Metamorphamagus all along?"
((Okay; I was apparently using the wrong kind of RP etiquette. Thank you for telling me!))
"I don't mind you asking, really, since everyone else is... So, long story short: Turned into a Time Lord and regenerated. That's it, no biggie." Rina smiled, but it didn't quite reach her eyes..
Ginger shrugged. "It's like these time traveler people who run around in blue cubes or something."
Alloy considered this. "Your explanation sounds a bit far-fetched, Ginger."
"Not quite. The show, Doctor Who, is about a renegade Time Lord who travels in a TARDIS— Time And Relative Dimensions In Space, basically a time-traveling spaceship— that takes the shape of a blue police box. I really suggest you guys check it out." Rina readjusted her goggles. "Anyway, Time Lords can do this thing where when they'd normally die, they regenerate into a new body. Twelve regens, thirteen bodies. I'm... still getting used to it, to be honest."
The older ghoul was obviously not happy with his sheepishly-grinning partner, who was wearing a tea cozy on his head...for some reason.
Gurgan rubbed his one good eye tiredly and desperately wished that he hadn't left his cigarettes back in the RC.
Sure, they hadn't done many - or any - missions for a while, but still Derwin managed to grey what little hair he had left.
Derwin took off his tea cozy and sat down at a booth. "Um...where are we, boss?" he asked, looking around.
Gurgan growled at his partner curtly and propped his boot-clad feet up onto the table, finally relaxing a bit. "Bar. You got off your pills and started up the Mini Poker Tournament again. I shoved your pills down your throat and dragged you here."
Derwin nodded cheerfully. "Oh!...How much did I win?" he asked before starting to pick his very large, very shiny sharp teeth with a switchblade he takes out from his pockets. "...And why is there a feather in my teeth?"
Gurgan sighed. "Trust me, you're better off not knowing." He turned his head to yell at the bartender. "Hey, smoothskin!" he barked. "Scotch. And lots of it. For him, decaff coffee." He jerked his thumb at Derwin, who was still pulling feathers out of his razor-sharp, solid-steel dentures.
"You know Shawn, most Agents go on a mission before getting drunk, not the other way around," Jack said as he pushed his way up to his partner at the bar.
"Wondered when you'd show up. Get tired of sitting at home all alone?" Shawn asked, downing a shot of he-didn't-know-what.
"What are you doing here? We're bound to get a mission any minute," Jack said.
"Relax kid, it's a party. Try socializing for once," Shawn said, turning to face his partner.
"I'm not a kid, Shawn. And do you even know why they're having a party?" Jack said, glaring at his partner.
"Somebody nearly died, didn't, and killed the nut responsible. Reminds me of Gotham," Shawn said, pretending to wipe a tear from his eye.
"That somebody also took out Rose Potter, one of the biggest, meanest legendary badfics out there. And if we don't get back, they might assign us something just as bad," Jack said, grabbing one of the many copies of the Multiverse Monitor that had been left on the bar.
"Neat. Whoever it is, we ought to send them a thank you card. Why don't I sit here, and think about what to write in it?" Shawn said, turning back to the bar.
"You're not leaving, are you?" Jack asked, sitting down next to Shawn.
"To deal with whatever nasty thing they throw our way first? Not a chance," Shawn said, scavenging for an unattended drink.
"Fine. I'm going to need to be drunk to deal with whatever this brings on our heads," Jack said.
"That's the spirit! Speaking of spirits, I'm going to find the barkeep. Poor guy must be up to his shoulders in drunken fools at this point.
He noticed his sister's table was swarmed and decided to just wave to her instead of going over and saying hi, then looked around for somewhere to sit.
Ah, that table over there looked promising. He headed over, casually flipping his new laser spanner between his fingers and trying to not look too pleased with it.
"Anyone sitting here?" he asked.
"For a second there, I was afraid I was scaring people off," Jack said, chuckling to himself.
He eyed the younger Agent over, trying to figure out if they had met before.
"I don't believe we've been introduced. Name's Jack," he said, extending his hand.
Alex asked, returning the handshake. "I'm Alex Dives. I'm an intern with the Department of Sufficiently Advanced Technology." He realized he had ice crystals in his hair and brushed them out. "Sorry, got an ice gun earlier today from a Suefic. I've been working on dismantling it."
"Always good to see new blood around here. Why dismantle the gun though? Seems like it would be useful for getting rid of some of DoGA's less," Jack paused, searching for the right word, "restrained actions that tend to pop up. And the last name's Bennet. Thanks for asking."
Alex shrugged. "We gotta dismantle most of it to make sure it's got some sort of logic holding it together, otherwise it could fall apart at a very bad time. Not to mention we have to know how to replicate them, you know?"
Jack said, shaking his head, "At least we'll be able to put it to good use afterwards."
"Are you talking about me?" a mohawk sporting, leather wrapped punk said, walking over to the table and causing Jack to jump.
"Shawn. That took you a while. Get everything you were looking for?" Jack asked, gesturing to the tray filled with various drinks the punk was carrying.
"Yeah, I didn't know what you drank, so I got one of everything. Now, are you going to introduce me, or should I just guess who we're sitting with?" the punk asked as he sat down next to Jack.
"Ah, yes. This is Alex Dives, from DoSAT. Alex, this is my partner, Shawn O'Thomas," Jack said as he looked over the many drinks in front of him before grabbing one.
"Figures you would find a fellow geek to sit with." Shawn said, giving Alex a broad grin, "So what's your story kid?"
"My sister's in the DMS; she... introduced me to the PPC," Alex said, suddenly feeling very self-conscious and deciding maybe just a half-truth would be for the best. "Anyway, I've got an internship with the DoSAT, and I plan on coming on full-time after I get my college degree."
He looked over the tray of drinks. "Got anything non-alcoholic there?"
Shawn blinked for a few seconds silently, a completely dumbfounded look on his face, "Nah, I'm just messing with you. Got a Shirley Temple just in case," Shawn handed Alex the pink-ish drink.
"Your sister's an assassin? I'm surprised she invited you in after seeing how loony this place is." Jack said, "She must have a lot of faith in you. You'll have to introduce us sometime."
"Ah, yes. Please tell your professional killer sister all about us. I'm sure that will end well," Shawn said, snickering into his drink.
"Oh shut up. I'm sure she's not any crazier than the rest of us. Right Alex?" Jack asked.
"At least, she hasn't been sent to FicPsych as far as I know." He paused. "Yet."
He accepted the offered drink and took a sip. "Huh, not bad. Anyway, I don't know if introductions would go over so well at the moment..."
Jack said, shaking his head, "My brothers and I used to bicker constantly, but the actual fights were never pretty."
"Eh, don't worry. These things always blow over after a few days. Course, I don't know if we would be able to tell when a few days had passed in this place," Shawn said, glancing around the room.
"She's just, ah, had a bit of a rough time lately, and I don't think she wants to deal with meeting new people." He risked a glance at Rina's table. "Ah, who'm I kidding? She's surrounded by people. That's her over there with the red hair." He pointed, grimaced, and took another sip.
Jack said, raising his glass in the general direction of Rina's table.
"Yeah, we should probably work our way over there eventually. Or I could just stay here and drink," Shawn said, shrugging.
"Who was it who took Rose out again? Some Time Lord, right?" Jack asked.
"And before you ask, no, I'm not a Time Lord," Alex sighed. "You know what happened to whatsisname, Tawaki Penguin? Same thing. I'm a bit surprised you haven't heard, it was all over the front page of the Multiverse Monitor."
Jack sat shocked, mouth open comically wide.
"So your sister's the triumphant warrior huh? Congrats man," Shawn said, patting Alex on the shoulder.
"I just... it was right about something? I mean, I figured they just pulled a name out of a hat," Jack muttered.
"So, she died or something, right? How're you holding up?" Shawn asked.
"Um, well, I'm fine. I mean, Rina's alive, right?"
He looked around and pointed at Zeb. "That's her partner over there, by the way."
Shawn asked, looking warily at his drink for a moment.
"There's a lot of unusual Agents running about. If the ponies can send in Agents, why not cats, right?" Jack offered.
"This place is going to take some getting used to," Shawn said.
"You know, "Gotta catch 'em all!"?" Alex prompted. "Eh, doesn't matter. Besides, I've heard of stranger agents. Like that one, ehm, wat was it called...? Oh yeah, the Radioactive Moss Creature!"
"Had to file a couple of his mission reports back when I was in infrastructure," Jack said, gazing into the distance in the most overly dramatic way possible.
"Pokemon and moss? And here I thought we were weird," Shawn muttered.
"But I digress." Alex finished off his drink and reached for another that looked to be the same. "So, how long have you guys been here?"
"Got pulled out of a fic just a few days ago. They rushed me through some training and put me with Jack here," Shawn said.
"And I have no idea how long I've been here. Stupid headquarters time, I'll never get used to it. I'd guess a year or two." Jack said, "Only been an actual Field Agent for a couple days though."
"I've known about the PPC for about a year now, but I only joined on as an intern last month." Alex took a sip of the drink and spat it back out. "Oh, that was not a virgin. What're things like in the action departments? I only ever hear what my sister's been up to. The DoSAT is pretty cool. You know what I'm doing later today? I'm getting to learn how to repair a light saber. A light saber! How awesome is that??"
"I mean, it would be so much cooler than just shooting them," Shawn said.
"Because we would have to get training, and I don't think either of us has the patience for that." Jack said, "But yes, it would be super cool."
"Yeah. As for what the action departments are like, I wouldn't know. This is the first thing I've done since I got out of training," Shawn said.
"Because that's a lovely idea, isn't it? Let's blow off the flowers in the first twenty minutes of our job." Jack said before gulping down the rest of his drink, "We're so doomed."
…one of the two agents, a human female, asked nervously as they entered the building.
"Rudi's. A popular hangout for agents of all sorts of craziness, species, and departments. Or so the slogan says," her partner replied, smiling. "Relax, Emma. I've been here plenty of times. You'll be fine." Before she could ask, he produced a small rectangular object wrapped in aluminum foil from his pocket. "I remembered your chocolate. Here. Now don't just eat it - I brought you here to meet people."
Emma swallowed her mouthful of the chocolate, specially made so as to include Bleeeprin in the recipe. "Thanks, Asher. Want me to get you something?"
"A root beer would be good. Just go ask the people at the counter. Here's the money. Emma? Emma!"
She started, her attention suddenly diverted from her candy, which she had been nibbling in a very focused manner. "What? Oh, sorry, Asher. I'll try not to get too distracted by it again."
He gave a long sigh. "I hope so. Now get going. I'll find a table."
As she left, he let his eyes wander until a certain table, already occupied but with a few empty seats, caught his attention. He walked over, raising a hand in greeting. "Hi there."
(I do not have Permission with these agents.)
"#@!* off." Gurgan muttered curtly as he drank the scotch that the long-suffering barman had brought over to him. Interestingly enough, he didn't actually UTTER the "F" word -it was quite interesting, actually, the way he cursed. Almost like an audible *Beep*!
Derwin shook his head in displeasure at his friend's rudeness. "Hey, boss! That's no way to treat a prospective ally!"
He got up and shook Asher's hand. It was like being touching old, rotten shoe leather. "Hi!" he rasped. "I'm Derwin, and this here's Gurgan. Former Dept. of Finances, now Dept. of Mary Sues."
Derwin gave a warm smile, revealing that his teeth were a set of serrated, poiny, razor-sharp steel dentures. "Don't worry, he's like that to everyone before he gets to know them."
Gurgan sighed. "Fine. Either sit down or $*#@ off." he muttered again as he drank his scotch.
The old ghoul jerked his head at one of the chair adjacent to the table, then grunted. "I don't mean to bust balls, smoothskin." He finally looked at Asher. "I haven't had a smoke in over ten minutes, is all. It's getting to me."
before he sat down. "I see."
(What species are your agents? I mean, what fantoms are they from?)
…as he looked the two - what were they? Oh yes - ghouls over. He'd never seen one of them before, but he'd heard about them. "Are you here to party about the latest legendary?"
(thanks.)
"Wasn't even aware a "Big One' had been taken down 'till derwin told me about it. I was just here 'cause I needed to get #*#($-faced." he rasped.
Derwin, for his part, nodded. "Yuh-huh! I wish they'd saved me a drumstick, though." He licked his lips. "Sues are so delicious if you sautee them right...uh, excuse me for a second." He reached into his pocket and took out a bottle of little green pills before downing one of them. "There we go - sorry about that, I need to take these or else I go a little nuts."
... Quickly followed by not-so-faint swearing. Indeed, Dom Irossi of the Department of Intelligence had failed to notice that the doors had closed right before he tried to enter the pub. He re-opened them and walked in.
He looked pretty much the same as when he went to Rudi's for the first time several months before, right down to his outfit. It should be noted, however, that he had slightly longer and messier hair, and was slightly paler... Though that might actually be related to the "I've seen things" look on his face.
The spy sat at a nearby table, took a quick look at the menu, and ordered a "I'll take a glass of Bleepolate milk with a straw, please." (Whoever made the menu assumed at least some of the Agents who needed that would be too traumatised to do anything but repeat what they were reading, and they decided it would be better if they were at least somewhat polite.)
Once his order had been taken, he silently stared into the distance while combing his hair with his fingers. A few hair strands fell on the ground, along with a small beige feather.
Klingons normally didn't slump, but Kozar felt he was entitled to a bit of slumping after completing two missions in a row and arguing with his partner over methods. He was nursing a pint of something that looked vaguely like Romulan Ale and tasted annoyingly like raspberries. He never could understand why aliens flavored their drinks so strangely.
His thoughts turned back to the argument, and he scowled. Let the Reader go try to assimilate into canon again if she wanted to so badly. She'd been talking about it more often than he'd like, considering she was his partner. He'd been getting used to her at last, and she wanted to leave? Well, then, let her. It wasn't like he cared what she did, so long as it included her job.
He missed Allison, was the problem. Why all his partners tended to be aliens, he had no idea, but Allison was the one he'd grown closest to, had trusted and respected far more than he did the Reader--not to mention the one before Allison, who had gone behind his back to acquire a parasite.
He grimaced at the thought of the tribble. Like any Klingon, he detested the creatures. Living with one in his RC had been horrible; the only thing that had stopped him from poisoning the creature was that Dawn had actually seemed prepared to protect it with the flamethrower she kept in one of the RC's corners. A knife he could handle; a flamethrower, however, was far more difficult to redirect, and he didn't really have a strong desire to find out how good her aim was with it. Better safe than sorry, and wasn't that an odd thought for a Klingon?
He took another swig of the raspberry-Romulan(ish) Ale, and grimaced. Glancing up prompted another grimace; it seemed he was about to have company.
Fantastic, he thought, and put the pint down. What was he about to be subjected to?
Well, he continued, that would probably depend on who it was who wanted to talk to him...
Well, one walked, the other fluttered through the air at her head height.
"About damn time I got something to drink!" Kalen grumbled, landing on his partner's shoulder and grabbing hold of her ear to keep his balance. "Do you have any idea how horrible it is to see mpreg Drarry?"
"Yes, Kalen, I know," Arinellya replied. "I was there, too. In fact, I'd say you have less reason to complain than I; after all, I didn't see you help delivering the twins."
Kalen snorted and flicked her on the ear. "Shaddap and go get me an ale, will ya?"
Arinellya turned to look at him, raising an eyebrow. "I beg your pardon?"
"Please," Kalen muttered.
"Of course, my dear partner, I'd be happy to get you an ale. Why don't you find a table for us?"
"Fine, but I'm sitting on the table this time. Last time I sat in a chair, someone else decided to sit on me!" And with that, Kalen took off, fluttering between patrons and finally finding a table that looked promising: the only occupant was a Klingon. Kalen liked Klingons; they knew how to fight. "Hey, you there," he called, flying up in the Klingon's face so he could be heard over the babble of Rudi's. "Mind if my partner and I sit here? She's the seven-foot, horned, blue babe over there," he said, jabbing a thumb at the agent in question.
((Decided to take these guys out for a test run before writing a mission with them! Introducing Kalen Briarthorn, maniacal pixie rogue, and Arinellya, coolheaded draenei priest, Department of Bad Slash.))
...the urge to swat at anything flying that close to his face. "Go ahead," he said, and indicated the empty chairs. He chanced a glance away, wanting to get a look at the mentioned partner.
As promised, she was seven feet tall, blue, and had horns. The flying being, whatever else it (he? Ze? Pronouns could be a touchy subject with aliens) was, wasn't a compulsive liar. Unless, of course, the seven-foot alien wasn't actually partnered with the flying one. He wouldn't know until she joined them, he supposed.
Speaking of pronouns, those often went along with names. Kozar preferred to know those, if he was going to be having a conversation; it cut down on confusion in the long run.
"So," he said, briefly eyeing his drink before deciding against having more of it. "Who are you?"
--
((So I have no real clue what Kalen looks like, beyond small and flying, presumably with wings. Same more or less goes for Arinellya, though draenei looks kind of familiar--is she from WoW? For that matter, where's Kalen from? Pixie can mean a lot of different things, depending on the canon.))
((~DF))
She spotted a tiny green blur hovering in front of a Klingon. Go figure. She trotted over to the table, setting down a glass of Pandaren plum wine for herself and a pint of ale that Kalen could have bathed in.
"I'm Kalen Briarthorn, warrior of the Feywild!" Kalen said proudly, puffing up his little chest.
Arinellya hid a smile in her wineglass. "Did I miss introductions? My name is Arinellya, but since most people find my name to be a mouthful, I also go by Ari."
((Kalen's fron D&D. Green dragonfly wings, green hair, green eyes, green clothes, brown skin, and about four inches tall. Ari's from Wow, and has blue skin and hair, horns, hooves, and a tail. Oh, and her eyes glow. Is there a way to link pictures not on the internet? I have profile pics on my computer ready for as soon as I get a mission done with them.))
"Kozar. I work in the DIC." He eyed their drinks, neither of which seemed overly offensive--unlike his own. This was the last time he let a non-Klingon bartender recommend him anything. "Which department are you from? I don't remember seeing you before."
--
((I think the picture thing is possible--hS may have managed it. He might have had them in from a weblink, though...hm. Look up an html coding thing? That would have it.))
((Also, Iximaz--Rina's a new Time Lord. The Reader has the Council position of Onyx Monitor, and thus has the responsibilities of "watching over Time Lords in fanfic, determining if any should be recruited, and keeping an eye on new PPC Time Lords," according to the wiki page summary. So...))
((Yeah. They should be friends! :D))
((To be honest, I was going to mention that maybe they should meet, but now...well, now I know why the Notary left a whole bunch of paperwork for the Reader. It'd be something along the lines of 'there's a new Time Lord in the PPC, fill out all of this stuff about her and about what you're doing in your job that you should be doing now, renegade'.))
((But yeah. Care to arrange a meeting? :) ))
((~DF))
"We're from the worst department in the multiverse."
"We're from Bad Slash," Arinellya said, producing a scrap of linen from somewhere and wiping the tiny splatter of saliva. "Kalen just dislikes it because he doesn't get to kill things very often." She smiled, fiddling with one of her neck tendrils. "Of course, we usually put in requests for missions involving replacements. We don't get out of our response center much save for missions. The last time we tried to go anywhere, Kalen nearly killed a Security Dandelion."
"What, ya never know!" Kalen cried, drawing his tiny rapier and pointing it at his partner. "Ya get some pretty freaky plants in the Feywild! Most of 'em love to eat pixies!" He fluttered up to perch on the rim of his mug, procured a cup made from a hollowed-out acorn, and filled it up before taking a large swig and belching loudly.
Arinellya sighed and gave Kozar a 'see what I have to put up with?' look.
((Maybe the Reader can try to drag Rina away from the Guardsman? She probably won't be too happy at first, but that's part of the fun!))
Dom, who had overheard the end of the conversation from his table, looked at the Bad Slasher pair and said:
"At least, you get to fix the badfics you go through. In my department, we can't directly do anything about them. Us spies have to watch logic and canon getting completely obliterated, Sues taking over the narrative, our favourite characters warped beyond all recognition... You can almost hear the canon screaming at you to help it."
The spy took a sip of Bleepolate milk. "And we just sit here taking notes. And then, we pass them on to those who will have the satisfaction to... Kill, exorcise, untangle, you name it. We all get the same horrible memories of the fic, but at least, you get the good ones: saving a continuum from yet another threat, in an often very satisfying manner."
Another sip, and a sigh. "Of course, we have to do it. Without us, your job would be much more difficult, and Intelligence is very important for the PPC. It's just that... Well, it can get incredibly frustrating, sometimes."
He finally finished the drink, and said in a more calm and slightly embarrassed tone: "Uh... Sorry. I... I had a pretty bad work day. I'll stop complaining now."
((Sorry for inserting myself into your RP despite not having Permission, but that was a pretty big opportunity for what I had planned to do. Your characters can ignore me, I guess there could be too much noise for them to notice anyway.))
Gaspard, who had sat at his table drinking hot chocolate ever since the Notary originally ignored his hails, smiled to himself. At least someone understood.
"It's not nearly as violent as some of the other action departments." She glanced at her partner, who had discarded his acorn tankard in favor of just sticking his head in the pint. "Well, it would be if someone didn't have the overwhelming urge to kill something every waking minute. Apparently his old player wasn't one for role-play," she added, taking another sip of her wine.
It had been a long day. As C.J. sat and waited to place an order, his thoughts turned to recent events - namely, the demise of a Legendary Badfic. This would normally be something to celebrate, but when C.J. heard the news and recognized the name of the injured agent, he felt he had to do something. He didn't know what, though - so he came to Rudi's in hope of inspiration. Perhaps he could find an answer or two at the bottom of a Wonka Fizzy Lifting Drink.
"And I'm telling you, just because you're a Hawkeye expy doesn't mean you had rights to kill that 'Sue." The female agent argued, oblivious to the fact that they'd now reached their destination.
"Green Arrow" the male sighed, "besides I had a better shot AND you had the charge list..."
"Only because you shoved it at me before running off to get a better shot."
The two continued their argument as they wove through the bar, oblivious to the fact that the booth they were headed for currently held a single occupant.
Sitting down in the booth the male slid in next to C.J. whilst the female sat down opposite him, finally realizing that someone else was there the female sighed "Apollo." she exclaimed, "I thought you said no one else used this booth."
Apollo let out a long sigh in response before turning to C.J. "Sorry about all this, I'm Apollo, and" he lowered his voice "the screaming banshee" before returning to a more normal volume "opposite me is known as Kelly."
"Hello, Apollo and Kelly. I'm C.J.," he said, turning his head to address each of them as he said their name. "I couldn't help but notice you mentioned this was your normal booth. I did not realize that it was claimed. I'd be happy to relocate, but as you can see..." he explained as he gestured towards a rope connecting him to the seat, "...I've had to tie myself down to counteract the effects of these Lifting Drinks. Untying myself would cause me to float into the ceiling. Sorry for any inconvenience. Anyway, if you don't mind me asking, what brings you to Rudi's?"
"It's no real problem, this is only our third time here"
"Second" Apollo corrected, not that he had time to say much more before Kelly started off again.
"Whatever, so last time we were here no-one else was in the booth, and no-one tried to claim it, and we were here for a long time."
"Two hours, fifteen minutes and twenty three seconds" Apollo interjected quietly.
"Yeah, something like that." Kelly agreed, "And that was right before our first mission, which we've just come back from and is the reason we're here."
"I apparantly 'stole' her shot" Apollo explained, "We're both exceptional archers so the 'person who hits the bullseye with the least amount of arrows contest' was a draw, so we decided on a more peaceful challenge, whoever does something stupid, sorry exceptionally stupid" Apollo smirked at Kelly who glared at him as a reply "under the influence of any of the drinks from here loses and has to apologise to the winner. And if neither of us 'lose' then we should have calmed down by the time we exit here."
"And probably have another mission waiting for us." Kelly interjected this time, before swiftly changing the topic of the conversation. "So why are you here alone C.J. you out of a partner or something?"
C.J. gave a small smile. "I've always liked bows - very elegant, takes more skill than a gun. I prefer throwing weapons myself. Anyway, to answer your question..." The smile faded from his face. "No, it's not because I lack a partner. He's a warlock from Azeroth. You know, World of Warcraft? Technically he's me, but... never mind, it's a long story. I'm here because I'm trying to think of a way to reach out to someone I haven't seen in a long time. We knew each other back in World One, you see, and it turns out that we both arrived in HQ."
He took a moment to consider his words before continuing. "Normally, this wouldn't be an issue. However... I've just heard that this person was injured, very badly. You understand if I don't say who... I don't know what condition they're in and I don't want to have people trying to go ask questions. I'm trying to figure out how to reach out without infringing privacy, y'know?"
((the mission mentioned in the previous post hasn't been posted yet, but will be fitted into the timeline so its before this.))
The only thing left in the place was the gentle hum of fridges with slightly dodgy wiring and the occasional flap of paper turning over. Why paper? Well, that was rather the fault of the woman in the corner, far away, where she felt she belonged. Out of sight, out of mind, and all that.
The Notary was very thorough with her work. Everything was laid out to fit the entirety of the table as if with a set of dividers and a slide rule, which (handily for a narrator) was exactly what had happened. The table itself had been covered with a tarpaulin that smelled faintly of soap, so that no spills could occur. There was a potted bonsai tree that occasionally emitted blasts of acrid grey smoke in the corner, and a picture of two women in an extremely expensive frame that was rather at odds with the cheap, faded, beaten-up photo inside it.
The Notary reached a conclusion, her fountain pen delicately tracing patterns of geometric circles that contained her reasoning. If other people didn't speak High Gallifreyan, that was their problem, as far as she was concerned. She reached for the tumbler of amasec by the side of her desk and frowned upon realising it was a tumbler of air and slightly smudged dark lipstick. With a sigh, she rose gracefully to her feet and glided across the floor to the bar. It took her a few minutes to get another glass, mostly because the Notary was only able to pay by sorting out and refiling the establishment's library of order forms, but she was soon sated. The entire thing had taken place in complete silence. And so she worked, far away, out of sight, out of mind.
The barman only remembered she could speak after a few hours more work, so quiet he had to strain to hear it, as if she didn't even realise she was doing.
"I let you down," she said, punctuated with the occasional hitched breath. "I... I let everybody down, in the end."
Wonderful, thought the barman, another bloody maudlin drunk. Sensational. He prepared himself to use Mop #7 - for some reason it worked really well on tears.
"They hate me and they're right to," the Notary continued. "You probably do as well." She fished in her satchel for another file and tapped out something on an old-fashioned desktop calculator. "You're right to." The calculator beeped, and she swapped her fountain pen for one in red ink. "You're right to," she repeated, almost under her breath.
File. Drink. File. Drink. Cross-reference. File. Drink. Glide over to the bar like she's on castors and do a little more filing for the bar. Rinse and repeat. Stay in the background, like the aftermath of the Big Bang. Interference. Noise. Useless.
The barman had tried to engage her in conversation precisely once, and had received a look so venomous it had practically burned a hole in the wall behind his head. That was a lesson well learned.
It took several more iterations of the cycle before the Notary reached into her bag and found no more files, no more forms. The bar was still empty. She had run out of things to do. She folded the tarpaulin neatly into a perfect square (again with the aid of her slide rule), put the bonsai tree back in her bag, and went over to sit at the bar.
This was when the serious drinking started, as indicated by her just tapping the bar's order book as the barman put it on the square of blue tarp. Elaborate circles filled the book as it was reorganized to within an inch of its life, and as long as you could speak High Gallifreyan it really was more efficient. She drank, and drank, and kept going until she ran out of book. Then she turned to look blearily at the cheap old Polaroid in the beautiful white-gold frame.
She stared at it for some time, reaching out with a slightly tremulous finger to stroke one of the faces. Then she set the frame face down on the square, finished her drink, and took her stuff back over to the corner, whereupon she just seemed to shut down completely, like her off switch had been flipped.
In winter, it was staff policy to put a blanket on her. It was getting on for spring now, so the barman didn't risk it. Instead, he just sat behind the bar and waited for more normal people to come in.
He nervously scanned his suspiciously silent surroundings. Rudi's was normally a little more animated than this, right? He took a hesitant step forward. Nothing happened, so he took another step towards the bar. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed a lady staring off into space over at a table at the back of the room. She wasn't moving. Gaspard nervously fiddled with his bowtie. Should he do something? This could be someone who had suffered a very silent heart attack or something. Alternatively, it could be a very tired and irritated agent who had managed to get away from her overbearing partner and was enjoying her free time by spending it in a mini-coma at Rudi's.
Gaspard looked at the bar, then at the lady again. He was hungry and thirsty... and besides, leaving her alone wouldn't do any harm. Right?
He sighed and very carefully approached the figure, watching it for movements. Best-case scenario: this was actually a mini-coma and he would've helped. Worst-case scenario: he'd get yelled at. Bah. Worth the risk, he thought. The Spy stopped when he was about three metres away from the lady's table. "Er... excuse me." He waved a hand, trying to get her attention. "Madame? Are you all right? Can I help you?" he asked softly.
Rina noticed the Notary in the corner and immediately turned to leave, but Zeb grabbed her sleeve with his teeth.
"What's the matter?" he said, once she'd stopped trying to leave. "Come on, Mr. William offered to buy us a drink."
Rina hesitated, but finally nodded. "Fine, but not anywhere near her," she whispered, nodding at the Notary.
"...with sunset in her hair~" Valon was singing softly to himself in the corner, while Kala dozed next to him. He stopped when he saw Rina walk in. Valon's trademark enormous grin appeared on his face. "Well, well, if it isn't the lady of the hour! How ya do?"
Kala grumbled unintelligibly in her sleep.
"Uh... fine, thanks," she said nervously. "Do I know you?"
"But I helped clean up what was left of Rose's world. My name's Valon Vance, Department of Floaters. The gigantic cranky sleepyhead next to me is Kala Jeng. Don't wake her up; this is the first time she's slept in two days." He noticed Zeb. "Ah, a leonine Pokémon. Random question. What think you of the majestic Pyroar?"
[OOC: At least, I'm assuming this takes place after "All's Well that Ends Well." Even though that's barely started.]
Zeb peered at the man who was somehow taller, paler, and bonier than Rina. "You answered the call for Rose? I can't say how grateful I am; there was no way we could have finished the job on our own."
"I got to play Surgeon Simulator on a Luna replacement. It ain't torture if they can't feel it." His grin changed to a slightly more crazed one. "Brutal murder achieved in... ah, who cares. The point is, they're dead."
Kala sat bolt upright for a moment. "Valon, what are you doing...with...her... spleen... mmbbbzzz..." She was obviously still asleep, and her head drifted back down to the table.
This had been an awfully long day. He'd been pummelled, shot at, burnt, defenestrated, thrown, and spat on by no less than four different Suvians that had fallen into HQ during his shift. Medical managed to wipe away the injuries but the weariness in his body remained. The Time Lord rubbed his eyes and focused on the bar across the room. He smacked his lips in anticipation. He'd order some Cointreau for himself-- the usual. Thank goodness for Agent Desdendelle: otherwise he'd be missing out on a taste experience.
He was halfway to the bar when the smell hit him. Time Lord. His eyes snapped open as he wildly looked around. He found the source of the smell: the Notary, sitting in her corner. No, never mind. He wasn't that desperate for a talk with one of his kind. The former soldier fixed his eyes back towards the bar and continued to limp forward. He passed a corpse-like man with a scorpion-centaur-thing seated at a table. The Guardsman suppressed a shudder when he looked at Kala. She looked a little too much like one of the many things that he killed/killed him way back then. He looked away from her. No need to stir up the bad memories if he could help it. As he made his way past the two, he overheard the man say: "It ain't torture if they can't feel it."
The Guardsman slowly turned around and looked at Valon. "What," he said in an icy tone, "the hell is that kind of logic? Go on. Explain it to me."
- - -
((Is Valon trying to be edgy here? He's creeping me out.))
((Valon's kinda too paralyzed to respond right now. He knows he said something insane, and he was desperate to defuse the situation. Kala just doesn't like being woken up.))
((Also, basically, I have in mind that the Replacement Sue is unconscious, possibly dead already, when Valon decides to learn the anatomy of a Mary Sue.))
((...not really OK, IMO. I mean, if it was a DMSE&R team of surgeons performing a post-mortem on a Sue, I'd understand but we're talking about an agent with a knife and no intention to make the death quick and painless. That's haram in my books.
Chronologically, let's say that Emiranlanoamar said his line just right before Kala stung him. Sounds good? ))
and Rina blanched, one hand going to her own stomach.
"R-right," Rina said shakily, trying to calm her racing hearts. "Well, it was nice meeting you, Valon." She glanced at Zeb and William, mouthing, "Can we please leave?"
"Oh... dear, I've gone and said something crazy haven't I?" Ignoring his own advice, he clapped Kala on the shoulder. "Oi, wake up and defuse the situation."
Kala didn't seem to be in the mood to help him. He got a stinger in the shoulder for his trouble, and completely froze. Kala turned groggily to Rina and Zeb. "Don't worry, he'll just be paralyzed for a few minutes. Ignore the lunatic, your mind goes places after being here. I just hope he doesn't find a badfic with one of his LOs in it..."
"Um, Lust Objects?" she said quickly. "Yeah, sooner or later he'll get a mission involving one. My very first one involved the Sue going after my primary LO. It wasn't pretty."
((So awkward RPing when one of the Boarders isn't here. Shall we pretend William had to nip to his RC for something until Cassie jumps in?))
"Ouch. Thankfully, nobody's touching Kimihito Kurusu. Though Valon says that in Monster Musume badfic, he tends to get swapped with someone else. Apparently, one of the replacements for the main man was Harry Potter."
She grinned slightly, nowhere near the size of a Valon grin. "Valon tries to convince people that he's asexual, but he can't stop staring at pictures of Jinx. The League of Legends character, that is. Still, Luna Lovegood is apparently his favorite Harry Potter character, and, well... I've noticed that Valon tends to be hazardous to character replacements. Our first one got eaten by a slime."
At least she wasn't talking about disembowelment, Rina thought. She glanced at Zeb, who seemed to be occupied with chatting up the other three agents, then cast another frightened look at the Notary. "Mind if I sit down?" she asked.
((Hey, you try getting abandoned in a stairway while delirious and see how well you like the person who did it.))
"I do apologize for Valon's comment. He's not normally >that insane. Usually, I'm the needlessly violent one."
Rina said as she quickly slid into her seat. "I think my tendency to burn down every uncanon location we see scares my partner just a little bit." She paused. "Before you ask, no, I'm DMS, not DOGA."
"Valon likes fire, but only because it looks pretty to him. He's the kind of guy that finds beauty in everything. Apparently, this includes the mini in our RC that looks like a gorilla with skin cancer."
Something about him smelled different, but she couldn't place—
She glanced over her shoulder at the Notary and took a sniff, just to be sure. Yep, same scent. So that's what they'd meant about smelling like time; the new guy was a Time Lord. Hopefully a nice one.
Looking back at Kala, she grinned. "We have a mini-Aragog named Mcgonagoll, a Hedwig replacement named Dogwig— she barks— and we recently got a wated. Uh, misspelled wallet with fangs. Looks a bit like a tribble, eats paper. Name's Bill."
"One of them is actually from my home continuum, Monster Musume. She's a tiny slime, and she's really affectionate. We also have a mini-Brawler from Prototype, that being the cancerous gorilla I mentioned, and a mini-creeper named knockback. Also, what's a trib–"
Valon twitched once, and suddenly became animated again. "—and that's why I'm banned from the Empire State building!" He blinked a few times. "Uh, sorry, I've been trying to talk this entire time, my muscles just now got the memo." His moment of insanity had clearly gone and been forgotten; he was back to his normal, mildly nutty self.
The Guardsman didn't look impressed. He crossed his arms, drumming his fingers on his bicep. "From the top, if you please. Explain to me why vivisection is an appropriate method of execu--"
That girl with the red hair. The Guardsman looked at her face as if there was a riddle written on her forehead. She smelled the part, looked the part, and there was that familiar telepathic tingle in the back of his mind. But that was impossible. Nobody had crashed into HQ for a while: he was pretty sure he was the latest. The Gallifreyan man looked at Valon. "Hold that thought," he said. Turning to the girl he said: "Young lady. Are you actually Time Lord or is that a disguise?"
The Guardsman's hearts thumped in his chest. Maybe she came from the Homeworld. Maybe she knew a way back. He was so excited he didn't even see Valon excuse himself from the conversation at the table and exit the pub.
"N-no, it's not a disguise," she stammered. "I mean, it was, and then it wasn't. I mean—" She took a deep breath and rubbed her eyes. Retelling the story never got any easier, it seemed. "Long story short, I was a human, had an accident, and my partner used the D.O.R.K.S. on me." She bit her lip. "You're not gonna bite my head off or anything, are you?"
Even if she wasn't a Gallifreyan native, her case certainly was interesting. He'd been told about agents pulling off stunts like these but he never thought he'd meet one in the flesh.
"What, do you think I'm the Notary or something?" he said with a grin. "Nah, I'm more likely to talk your ears off more than anything. Anyhoo, pleased to meet you, ma'am." The Guardsman saluted then held his hand out towards Rina. "Guardsman Emiranlanoamar, 442nd Arcadian Infantry Regiment, at your service. If you can't remember my name, just call me 'Guardsman': everyone else does it. And you?"
- - -
((Bed time for me. See ya tomorrow!))
"Hm? Wha?"
People. There were people. Well, allegedly. She wasn't on her own any more, she wasn't-
That thought got clamped down on as hard as she could. Over there was the Guardsman, she could tell by the faint aroma of militarism and self-importance. The Jumped-Up Drill Sergeant With Delusions Of Grandeur would've been a better name for him, she thought to herself. Then there was the other one, the one who knew. Her and the Thundercat or whatever it was, honestly, could she really be expected to keep track of every witless continuum spawned by World One's debatably sentient inhabitants. Whoever had classified Earth's collective of shaved monkeys as a Class 5 sentient society needed to be hunted down and beaten to death with a hammer.
She checked her picture again, the white-gold of the frame somehow soft to the touch. It matched her skin. Oh well, you got what you paid for. She drifted imperiously past the Guardsman like a galleon in full sail, the effect of which was rather lessened when she glissaded on a spilled drink and was sent crashing to the floor, her head bouncing off a bar stool before it slammed into the wooden boards with a heavy WHUDdish sort of noise.
Rina's relief was so visible it was almost embarrassing. "Oh, thank goodness, Desdendelle told me about you, but things kept coming up and I've been so busy with refiling paperwork I haven't had the chance to come and find you or Morgan or the Disentangler and then —"
She cut herself off when she realized she was rambling and again glanced nervously at the Notary. "The Notary was the first Time Lord I met and..." She shuddered violently. "I really didn't have the best of luck finding the nice Time Lords."
It was at this point she realized she'd been neglecting the Guardsman's question. "My name's Sabrina Dives, but everyone calls me Rina. I can't tell you how glad I am to meet you."
((Methinks Rina's just a wee bit terrified of the Notary. But who can blame her? Anyway, bed for me as well.))
“So I used the Stu’s laser rifle against him — it is amusing how many of them think CREWs are the best weapon there is — and simply reflected the shots back with a field. He never knew what hit him.”
The Mage wiped imaginary dust from the shoulder of his uniform jacket and sighed, looking at the floating light ball hovering at shoulder height near him. “That is a sound move, but the bigger ones tend to immunise themselves to their own weapons. I am glad, however, that you did not push a field down his throat like that time.”
“I am entitled to some fun on the job, am I not?” the light ball changed colour, from red to yellow tinged with grey.
“Not when the regulations forbid your particular type of fun. I didn’t enjoy our trip to the Strangler Fig’s office and from the look on your fields you didn’t, either.” He looked around, then nodded at Rina. “That is her.”
The Drone dipped slightly in the air in response.
The pair approached Rina’s table. “May we sit?” the man asked.
Rina shrugged and nodded. "Um, sure, I guess..." She scooted over to make room, wondering why these people wanted to sit at this table when there were so many empty ones in the bar. "Do you guys know each other?"
...to let the Mage and the Drone sit at the table. "Nah, never met these guys. Go on and sit; I'm fine with standing," said the former soldier, eyeing Kala. He turned back to Rina. "Pleased to meet you, Miss Dives. I assume that you're still getting used to the new body, right? How's that time-sense working out for you?"
Just then, the Notary made a show of striding past the Guardsman. He ignored her presence up until the point where she tripped and was wombo-combo'ed by a bar stool and the floor. "Hang on a minute," he said to Rina and crouched next to his fellow Time Lord. When she didn't move, he leaned towards her face and snapped his fingers over her ear. "Hey, Antrilovorasilendar. Are you still with us?" He pinched her ear, looking for a reaction. "Come on, don't tell me you broke your neck on the way down. That's a pretty dumb way to waste a regeneration and you know it. Talk to me."
- - -
((HAPPY FEET))
The Notary reached into the pocket of her robe and, after dumping several apples, a pink sock with eyes and a peculiar wig, and a glittery meat skewer on the floor next to her, ascertained that her picture wasn't broken. Transparisteel glass, people, accept no substitutes.
She then turned to face the Guardsman. "Unhand me. This is not a request."
...and stalked over as best she could (her current regeneration didn't really do stalking very well. It was something she missed, and refused to admit out loud that she couldn't do). She had previously been sitting quietly closer to the bar, but now that she had the opportunity...
"Notary!" she snapped. "I have a bone to pick with you."
--
What does this rp need? More Time Lords, that's what! (What do you mean, there are plenty already? :) )
~DF
"Make it quick, Reader, whatever your conundrum is; I have an appointment with the local firewater for which I have no intention of being late. I'm probably going to regret not having prepared some informative leaflets about where babies come from."
He had released the Notary and was busy scanning her body with his laser screwdriver. "You just suffered what might be a traumatic head injury and moving might make it worse. Now sit still while I complete this diagnostic."
The Time Lord looked up and noticed the Reader. "Ah, I don't believe we met. Guardsman," he said, extending his free hand towards the Reader.
She turned away from the Notary momentarily, and shook the Guardsman's hand. "I'm the Reader. DIC. It's a pleasure."
Remembering the Notary, her scowl returned. "Notary, I just got back from two missions--in a row, mind you, not just spaced nicely apart--and found a giant stack of paperwork waiting for me with the Council's logo on it. I didn't even know we had a logo, much less letterhead. Or forms. Care to explain where it came from and why you seem to think I have the time to do it?"
--
((I guess this is what happens when I don't reply for a while...the conversation continues. So...sorry about the offshoot; this was the most logical place I could find to put it, though.))
((Also, Scapegrace? I've missed the Notary. A lot. Seeing her again is awesome.))
((~DF))
"However, I am obviously fine. It will take more than moderate head trauma to keep me from any duties; the new one has met my associate, she'll be able to tell you about what goes on in my RC." The Notary idly massaged a rung-shaped bruise across the width of her head. "Frankly, I'm just grateful I didn't shatter my nose on a Generic Door again."
Rina scratched her ear, looking sheepish. "I'm still trying to get used to both. To be honest, the time-sense thing is more than a little distracti-"
The Notary walked past at that point, and Rina shrank back in her seat, praying the Time Lady wouldn't stop to belittle her. Of course the Notary had to trip right then. Great. Just great.
He was sporting a big black eye, he was carrying a small, cheerful-looking blob, and he looked horribly confused.
"Uh... can anyone tell me why I left the bar? And why my left eye hurts? And why I have Sumisu?"
The mini-Suu burbled cheerfully.
((Be on the lookout, the Gods of Retcon are on the loose!... yeah, this isn't the first time Valon's run into these guys. Remember how he used to be in the DMS? Yup, Gods of Retcon. And now they seem to have punched memories of a different Sue-death into him. He doesn't remember any disemboweling now.
Basically, that never happened, as that event isn't going to be written.
Of course, if you don't buy that there are Discworld-esque beings that go around punching your memories out, you could say that somebody accidentally neuralyzed him. Take your pick.))
and decided to keep talking to Kala. "Tribbles are these little fluffy creatures from Star Trek, about yea big—" She motioned with her hands. "—and they eat everything in sight. 50% of their metabolism is geared towards reproduction, and they're born pregnant. Not scary, but they can be a nuisance. Thankfully, I don't think wateds can reproduce."
"Hm, never really got into Star Trek, that was always more my dad's thing."
Before he said anything else, Kala shot him a glare, and Valon remembered why he'd been stung.
"... ah. Right. I'm going to go back to the RC and play with Sumisu before I say something else I regret." He rather hurriedly walked out of Rudi's.
Kala turned back to Rina and sighed. "I kinda wish he had more of a spine than that, sometimes. Sues are nothing, but if you're a PPC agent and you even threaten him with violence, he folds like origami. He hates scaring people and making them angry."
"Well, I mean, it kind of was, but he couldn't have known about it..." Rina swallowed. "I'm just... just a bit twitchy about disembowelment..." She realized her leg was jittering and forced it to stay still.
"Oh God... I didn't read the report... I didn't know that's what happened to you. Seriously, stop by RC 211 sometime. Valon doesn't get out much, and he needs people to talk to besides me. That, and Sumisu loves guests. It's hard to be angry when a tiny slime is nuzzling your legs and begging for hugs."
((Off to bed.))
"As long as he promises to never bring that up again." She couldn't suppress a shudder.
...as she and her partners entered the bar and made for the first empty table they saw. Amusingly, it happened to be the one right next to where Rina, Zeb, and Valon were talking.
Sarah and Lapis slumped into their chairs, but Cupid was perky as ever as he took his own.
"Heya, Zeb!" the angel waved; he had the slight urge to pet the Luxray again but decided against it this time.
"So, this is what Rudi's is like, huh?" Sarah asked wearily. "I could get used to a place like this. I've heard the food's better than in the Cafeteria, too."
"As long as they toss their ice cream on the floor, I can live with that," Cupid replied cheerfully.
"Let's just eat," said Lapis. "Oh, and no alcohol this time, Cupid. I'd rather not risk another tantrum like on our first mission."
"Aw, maaaaan!"
((Because the Purim one wasn't for my agents. Zeb wasn't in HQ before April.))
((Considering that Solvig meeting Zeb is canon for me, and is the reason of why she has Pokémon listed as a fandom. Gods, I need a retcon!))
((Plus she'd have Sarah to exchange superhero stories with!))
((I want another character to meet Zeb [a 1'04" tall character], and I have been holding it back for when it's a better narrative point for it to appear, but since the other RPer seems to have vanished, you think it would be a good idea to reveal this other character? 'Cuz I'm getting kind of bored =/ ))
((...you know heavy timey wimey mindscrewy stuff, that not even the writers can make sense of. In other words, she met him, but at the same time not. Is better not to think too much about it.)
(Though I'll have to edit out the line where Cupid recognizes Zeb and wants to pet him again. Just forget I typed it. ^^;)
Zeb glaned at Rina and William, then at the other three agents. "I'm sorry, do I know you?" he asked, padding over.
((Oh Zeb. You so naive.))
"Well, by proxy, anyway. I have a Skarmory for a brother, and he once said he knew yours. Rina Dives, I think? Must've told her about me, that good ol' tin turkey."
The Super chuckled, sitting a little straighter in her seat. "I'm Sarah Squall, by the way. DIC. And these glittery idiots - I mean that in the affectionate sense, by the way - are my partners, Cupid Carmine and Lapis Lazuli."
The angel reached out to pat Zeb's mane, but Lapis grabbed his wrist with a frantic expression.
"Cupid, don't!" the blue-haired girl whispered. "That's a Luxray, an Electric-type Pokemon! One touch and you'll be fried by ten thousand volts of paralyzing current!"
"Okay, okay!" Cupid said hastily, withdrawing his hand.
"Anyway, yeah," Lapis chuckled nervously, turning to Zeb. "We heard about what happened to you and Rina from Alex over at DoSAT. We're so sorry to hear of what happened to you two."
"I wish I could've helped," Sarah added, "but sadly, I'm a lot better at untangling than Sue-slaying."
The door to Rudi's opens and two girls, one an auburn-haired and blue-eyed caucasian, and the other an asian with blue eyes and blonde-dyed hair tied in a long braid; enter the bar.
"So, this is Rudi's?" said Solvig, the first one; bouncing with excitement, "I love it! Thanks for bringing me here Chop Suey!"
"My name is Shui-Hua!" snapped the other, "Look, I'm not here because I like you, or this place, I'm here because your psychiatrist blackmailed me into bringing you here, and you can't be without supervision." she sighed, "And one more thing: You call me like that again, and I'll fill your nose with water and then flash-freeze it! Got it?"
Solvig touched her nostrils, shuddered, and then rapidly nodded. Then she recognized someone in the crowd, "Wait, is that...?" she smiled, "Yes, she is! Hey Sarah!" she shouted and ran towards the Super.
The young asian technician just rolled her eyes and followed the hyperactive Kryptonian, muttering curses to herself.
Having left her partners to talk with the Luxray, the Super agent rushed over and tackle-glomped her new friend.
"How's life? Have you been assigned yet? Where's your RC?"
Then she noticed Shui-Hua and raised an eyebrow. "...Who's this?"
"Ack... happy... to see you... too," said gasping the redhead/brunette, "no powers... need to breathe... Ow... may have... cracked rib..."
Shui-Hua (who was watching this with a sadistic glee) pushed up her glasses and finally decided to intervene, "I´m Technician-in-Training Shui-Hua Liu, from the Department of Sufficiently Advanced Technology, Testing and Application Division. Now if you may, there's a certain Nurse from FicPsych who might like this girl returning in one piece."
She disengaged from Solvig and gingerly shook Shui-Hua's hand, taking care not to break it this time.
"Wait, no powers?" she asked to Solvig. "What happened? Did someone give you some kind of suppressant or something...?"
...while she coughed and tried to regain her breath.
Shui-Hua meanwhile shook Sarah's hand and said, "I take it that you must be Sarah, Solvig has spoken a lot about you," she smiled, "Solvig has a Nanoha-verse's Output Limiter fastened to her right wrist," points to the bracelet on Solvig's wrist, "because her powers are very strong and she has yet to control them," she turned her gaze to Sarah, "No, I don't have the authority to unlock them." Whatever it was, Shui-Hua was just happy of being able to explain something.
Then he paused. "You... heard what happened?" he said. "I just want to make something clear, Rina did not destroy Gryffindor tower." Mentally, he was wondering how Alex had found out since Rina was planning on telling her brother the next day.
"...we didn't find out until after we finished our first mission," said Lapis. "Someone slipped a copy of the Multiverse Monitor under the crack of the door in our RC. I was the first to read it, seeing as Sarah and Cupid were a bit... busy... with this thing called the Writhing Mass when we got back."
"Sarah has the cutest laugh," Cupid sighed dreamily.
"No, you do!" the Super replied playfully. "Anyway, I know enough about cover-ups in the news media to say with confidence that that article is total bull."
"And we missed most of the backlash, too," Cupid added. "We were struggling with a Super Smash Bros./Criminal Minds crossover involving a tyrannical uncanonical antagonistic army, and we... kinda got carried away."
"Especially Angel Face here," said Sarah. "He had the bright idea to drag Yveltal into all the fun. It was lucky all the canons got away, and even luckier that none of the Milivoj didn't."
Cupid covered his face behind his wings and said, "We are never speaking of that again. Ever."
Zeb was blushing, not that anyone could tell under his fur. "Really just the 'destroyed tower' bit. And the 'foolhardy' bit, that was just insulting."
"From what Adam told me, Rina seems like a competent agent!" Sarah exclaimed. "Why would they call you and her 'foolhardy' for taking on a legendary badfic?!"
"They weren't the ones who decided to do it," Lapis pointed out. "And none of us know Harry Potter as well as she presumably does. I can only guess that she knew what she was doing."
"Tried to make my partner look bad," Zeb said. "And she knows Harry Potter better than anyone I've ever met." He paused. "Not that I've met very many people, but still."
"My only experience with that continuum so far is that one HP/Pokemon crossover on my second training mission, co-starring Des, the Librarian, and that goddamn cat," Sarah muttered.
"Rashida?" asked Lapis. "Yeah, Rayner told me a lot about her. She's not exactly the nicest person to have around, but you can count on her to know what she's doing."
"Not always. Anyway, I think I see someone I recognize! BRB, guys - You two can talk with Zeb while we wait for the food."
With that, Sarah stood up and headed off.
"So, Zeb..." said Lapis after an awkward pause, rubbing the back of her head and flashing a fidgety sharp-toothed smile, "have you had any previous missions before... THAT one?"
"Yeah, I was about to ask the same," Cupid added. "I'd hate to think of what would happen if the Flowers threw a newbie into a Legendary badfic on their first day."
"One was into Percy Jackson, but the other two were Harry Potter. I've only been in HQ for a little less than a month."
"We've only been on two missions," he added. "The Super Smash Bros/Criminal Minds one we mentioned earlier and one into the Godzilla fandom..."
"We are never speaking of that ever again," Lapis hissed at him, baring her jagged teeth.
"Why? It wasn't your fault that you blew up like an atomic bomb once the kaiju started talking like in a cheesy 50's TV show!"
Lapis gave his wing pinions a painful yank, and said, "Did you hear what I just said?!"
Cupid stopped talking, but rolled his eyes at her.
"I owe you and Sarah for what happened, but that doesn't mean you can rub it in my face," said Lapis, before returning to Zeb. "Anyway, yeah. Two missions. I've been here for two years, but I was in the Nursery until sometime last week."
"Wait... Percy Jackson?" asked Cupid. "Isn't that the book series about Greek mythology in a modern-day setting?"
"Yeah, my author loved those books as a kid!" Lapis smiled. "So, Zeb, how did that particular mission go? Which demigods did you get to meet?"
"The only non-replaced characters we got to meet were Grover and Clarisse, sorry. It involved some OC son of Chaos who was a... what was the word, porn star? He took off almost all of his clothes to show off his target-print undergarments and my partner shot him in the rear. And then the entire camp tried to kill us, so we had to run for it."
Zeb glanced back at Rina's table, which seemed to be extremely crowded, then back at his current table mates. "We ended up blowing up the camp with greek fire," he concluded.
... with a Light Ball embroidered in it, arrives and waves at Zeb, "Piikaa! Kachu chu pika-pi pi-kaaa-chu! Chuuu chu, pikachu ka pika-pi pikachu piikaa pika-pika pipi ka!"
[Translation: Hello! Congratulations on your victory! You are the bravest Luxray I have met!]
(Note: this is written without Permission.)
And another tall young man stepped through them. The first noticeable difference with the previous one was his long blond hair, and his quilted jacket sporting a Department of Intelligence flash patch.
You'd usually expect a spy to be sneaky and quiet. Dom Irossi, however, most definitely wasn't.
He was currently talking --or rather, shouting-- to someone on the phone. Most of those who were around were unable to understand him, however, as he was speaking French.
Those who either spoke that language or had an universal translator, could understand this:
"I know that movie was terrible! But it's canon, and if you try to 'fix' it, we'll have to send someone to-- You want to do WHAT?"
Suddenly realising he had practically screamed the last word, he looked around with a worried look on his face, and said in a much more quiet voice:
"Uh, I'm getting weird looks here. I'll call you back later. No canon genocide in the mean time. Bye."
Dom hung up and put the phone back in his pocket. He then said in English:
"Uh, sorry... That was my brother. He really wants to help, but... Ah, forget it, it's not important."
He waited until everyone had diverted their attention from him; he then sat at an unoccupied table and ordered some tea.
((My interlude, which is totally happening guys, I swear, takes place before Rina transforms. So, say whatever you want, have anyone you want show up. My interlude will not be affected.))
((And I am totally serious about my interlude coming out. It will be out Monday, at the absolute latest. I am so sorry about it taking so long in the first place. ))
Case in point: about five minutes after Dom Irossi’s tea arrived at his table, a young man — he wasn’t exactly a teenager, but certainly not an adult — wearing a shabby brown longcoat and sporting a red-brown goatee approached the table.
“Do you mind if I sit here? The pub’s pretty full, as you can see.” He noticed the cup of tea. “Oh, a man of good taste, I see.”
"Why, because I drink tea? Well, I just don't really like coffee, so, I'm not sure if it means anything about my tastes... And, uh..."
He hesitated for a few seconds, before finally saying:
"Uh, yes, of course you can sit here. It's not like I'm waiting for anyone, so... Sure, why not."
The man sat down, making sure his coat’s tails were out of the way. “I am Desdendelle, from Floaters, by-the-way.”
He dug around in his pockets and fished out a small, hardcover book, a blue plastic eyeglasses case, and an assortment of various currencies from different continua.
“Who might you be? What is your role in the force?”
"Today was my first day working in the PPC. The Sorting Room is a bit boring, but I don't really think I'm ready for action." He smiled.
"So, uh... What continuum are you from? I'm from World One, Corsica."
Des rubbed his neck. “Basically? I come from this AU of World One. Things are a bit… different. No firearms, for starters. Everybody has a melee weapon.” He looked at the axe dangling from a loop in his belt. “The tea is predatory. A friend of mine called it “Planet Dynasty Warriors”. Do not pursue Lü Bu, indeed.”
He signalled a waiter, ordered a pot of jasmine mao feng tea (“with mineral water, if you will; thank you!”) and put his hands on the table. “Action? Action here can be… interesting. Or scarring, depending on what you get sent.”
Dom pointed at his cup of tea. "At least, that one won't eat us. Probably." He chuckled.
"Yeah, at first, I kinda wanted to join an Action Department, but I then realised I didn't know how to fight. At least, with Intelligence, I'll make myself useful... Though I don't plan on getting stuck in HQ for too long. The Action Division actually seems safe enough... I mean, you don't really interact with anything, what could possibly go wrong?"
Yup, this was definitely his first day at the PPC.
He settled for laughing until he cried and had to hold his sides. “What could possibly go wrong, you ask?” the agent tapped his temple. “You can go batshit, for starters.” His tone became serious. “Ever visited the Tomb of the Unknown PPC Agent? No? You should. You can die. I have a friend” — he pointed toward the door — “that had to transform herself into a magical construct to survive a battle with a Sue. She stayed in Medical for ages afterwards. I had to stay for quite a while in FicPsych after that mission. Have I mentioned going insane? My partner went nutcracker after that mission.”
"I was specifically talking about the DoI's Action Division... But I've got to admit that what I said was incredibly stupid."
A waiter arrived and brought Des his tea. The man thanked him, poured himself a cup, and sighed. “If you ever end up in Action… look for a guy called Gaspard de Grasse. He had the bad luck of scouting “Rainbow Factory”.”
He took a sip of his tea. “Eh, enough of that. I came here to wind down, not to talk about traumas. What continua are you specialised in?”
Dom poured himself another cup as well. "I'll try to look up the report later."
He added some sugar to his tea, and said:
"Well, I'm currently specialised in the first three seasons of MLP, and, uh... Hatoful Boyfriend. A pigeon dating sim. It's just as weird as it sounds, but I'm pretty much the only one who's familiar with the continuum there."
“I think I heard about it? Well, at least isn’t a continuum where a children’s card game holds undue importance, or a ‘verse where the government is purposefully sabotaged from within in order to make it less efficient,” Des said. He gave Dom’s cup of tea a critical glance. “I have no idea why put sugar in their tea. It’s like putting sugar in beer.”
"I mean, once you get over the whole 'dating birds' thing. Which is surprisingly easy. Never thought I'd cry for a dove."
The spy, following Des's stare, looked at his tea. "I'd like to agree with you there... I usually don't put sugar in tea, but I'm pretty sure that one is oversteeped."
The Floater raised an eyebrow. “Ask them to put the leaves on a separate plate or something next time. That’s what I do because gods know you can’t expect a pubbie to know how to make tea.”
“And, you know, if you can get attached to AIs, there’s no doubt you can get attached to pigeons… the agent I mentioned earlier? The one that spent ages in Medical? She’s from the Lyrical Nanoha continuum. If you’d look at how she treats her Device — a machine, basically, a computer — you’ll see what I mean. Quite frankly I can see why.”
"Yeah, of course, it wasn't that surprising... But still weird."
“I mean,” Des said, “look around. I can see a MLP-verse pony, a bunch of later-gen Pokémon, is that a Protoss? A scorpion person, some kind of angel, dinosaurs, and oh Gods of Tea and Radiator is that a Culture drone?”
"I'm not really familiar with the continuum, though. The few things I know are from looking it up on Wikipedia when that one private space company named their landing barge... I think it was 'Just Read The Instructions.' Honestly, this 'verse objectively has the best spaceship names ever."
“I assure you,” Des said after taking a sip, “you will not regret. Aside from maybe Consider Phlebas. And, yes, the Culture’s ships have some very nice names indeed. “All Through With This Niceness and Negotiation Stuff” is one of my favourites.”
"I guess I should start with the second one? It's 'The Player of Games', right?"
"And my personal favourite name is... Hold on." Dom took out his smartphone, typed something, waited for a while ("I should probably get it modified by DoSAT, I can only get an EDGE connection from here"), and...
"Ah, there it is. The 'Mistake Not My Current State of Joshing Gentle Peevishness for the Awesome and Terrible Majesty of the Towering Seas of Ire That Are Themselves the Milquetoast Shallows Fringing My Vast Oceans of Wrath.'"
“The good old Mistake Not,” he said. “Another good one is Experiencing a Significant Gravitas Shortfall. Hm, that might make an amusing title for a mission report…”
Des rubbed his goatee, then shrugged and sipped his tea.
Dom looked down at his now half-empty cup of tea. "I think I should get something to eat... It feels like it's been days since my last meal. What would you suggest?"
Des scratched his goatee. “The pastas they serve here are A-OK. The salads are appetising if you’re in a bunny-rabbit mood.” He started tapping the table absentmindedly. Tap-taptaptap, tap-taptaptap, tap-taptaptap, tap-taptaptap.
Dom hailed a waiter. "Uh, excuse me... I'd like a plate of pesto pasta, please."
"... Pesto pasta. Pesto pasta. Pesto pasta. Pasto pes-- Gaaah, almost broke my record."
He then said to Des: "Uh... Oh, yeah, do you want something as well?"
“I’d like a steak — regular cow, please, nothing odd — medium, with puree and garlic butter. Add to that a pitcher of lemonade,” he said.
The waiter nodded, wrote their order on a piece of paper, and withdrew to the kitchen. Des turned back to Dom and looked at the spy for a few moments.
“Yeah, I am drawing a blank. I’ve no idea what to say.”
"How long does it usually take for orders to arrive here? Maybe we could find something to do in the meantime..."
((Sorry if it's not ok to jump in here...))
Lana and Ari wandered into Rudi's. "So, you've been holding up OK?" the older Agent asked.
Ari shrugged. "Well enough."
Lana peered at the blonde girl. "Uh-huh. Well, y'know -"
"Oh hey, it's Des over there!" Ari walked over hurriedly to the longcoated Agent's table. "Hey, what's up?"
“Haven’t seen you in quite a while,” Des said, rising from his seat and politely inclining his head. “How have you been?”
He looked around. “Oh, right, introductions. Ari, meet Dom Irossi, from Intelligence. Dom, meet Ari, from Crossovers.” Turning to Lana, he pushed his glasses up his nose. “Who might you be?”
((Totally fine. Dom and I were stumped, anyway.))
Dom got up and made a step towards the newcomers, but he suddenly stopped, seeming a little bit uncomfortable. "So. Uh. Yeah, Des made the introductions here... Uh..."
"I've been OK, I think? I got to go back on missions again, finally." Ari shrugged.
Lana offered her hand to shake. "Lana Kohler, DMS. I actually recruited Ari a while back. And you?"
“Desdendelle, from Floaters,” he said. “Went on a mission with Ari, among others.”
Des waved in the general direction of the table. “Come, do take a seat. I’m sure Dom won’t mind. Right?”
Dom smiled at the two agents. "At least, we'll have more conversation topics... Because it was getting kinda awkward here."
Valon slipped away from Kala and Navare. He found a nice spot in the corner of the bar, sat down and continued reading his book.
"Too many people... I really don't do social." Somewhat unconsciously, he started singing as he read. "And who are you, the proud lord said, that I must bow so low..."
(OOC: Valon is acting exactly as I would. I never know what to do when there are a lot of people around, so I usually just hole up in my room or hide in a corner. I'd rather be alone than a mute decoration.)
"I'm Fire Flash, he's Big T," said a female voice from across the table.
"Taldaris," corrected a telepathic voice.
"He's a super-powerful alien protoss, I'm a lame cartoon pony with no wings or horn. I'm pretty, he isn't. He does psionics, I don't. I like kicking stuff, he likes energy swords. He can't go visit his homeworld, but I can."
"Don't rub it in."
"We're both in the DIA and probably the most oddball partners in this entire place. So how come you chose to sit at our table? Didja fail a spot check or something? Oh yeah, don't freak out or anything. We were here from the start."
Valon, who had been rather engrossed in tales of jousting dwarfs, almost flew out of his seat. "I am high-strung and oblivious, no sneaky sneaky!"
However, his gaunt face lit up when he realized what the larger agent was. "Ooh, a Protoss! En taro Tassadar!" Valon laughed nervously. "I used to play StarCraft, but, uh... I usually played Zerg. What can I say, I'm a fan of strength in numbers." He turned his attention to the pony. "I'm actually an ex-brony. When I did like the show, Pinkie Pie was my favorite character, so it's okay to be an earth pony. As for why I sat here, well, I'm just more comfortable near walls and corners."
"It's good to see that my home continuum is somewhat known amongst PPC agents. Perhaps Aiur's plight has not been forgotten yet."
"Pffft. It's not what PPC agents think that matters, it's what the writers do," said Fire Flash after taking a swig from her drink. "Besides, isn't the Hierarchy planning a full-scale assault on Aiur?"
"Judging by the promotional material for the third game, yes. Imagine: Aiur restored! I will have to go down to the Templar Archives and retrieve copies of the manuscripts I was writing..."
"Yeah, only if it works."
"It will work."
"Whatever, dude. So! Pale man person. You haven't told me your name yet. Where are you from? Judging by the fact that you're trying to escape the crowds you don't really want to be here so... is your partner around?"
"I'm in Floaters. My partner's impossible to miss, she's four hundred pounds of grouch on eight legs. That's her over there." He pointed out the girtabilu. "And she dragged me here supposedly to find contacts in the PPC for emergencies, but I think she was just getting cabin fever. I still don't know what the hell to do at a bar; I refuse both alcohol and Beeprin on principle."
"I know 'en taro Adun' is traditional, but I thought you adopted Tassadar as a variant after the events of the first game? 'En taro' just means 'for the honor of,' and Tassadar did kinda kill the Overmind, so he probably has a heroic status similar to Adun now... maybe my sources are wrong, who knows?"
"I left Aiur just after the Executor crashed the Gantrithor into the Overmind," explained Taldaris. "I was leading a group of civilians to the Xel'Naga Warp Gate as part of the evacuation of Aiur. Something interfered with our warp-in and we ended up in HQ instead of Shakuras. For the next fifteen years we've lived in HQ, mostly working in the DoSAT. As such, we've been completely cut off from the Khala and so Tassadar hasn't--"
"Come off of it, T-man," said Fire Flash. "Everyone knows you're a stiff-arsed conservative who hates change. You just want to feel special because you're a traditionalist."
"I thought we were done discussing that," said Taldaris. "You were saying about your partner...?"
"Oh, man. I thought he was some sort of Zerg bug when she walked in. It's a good thing the Guardsman isn't here: he'd have a fit without Naya and Terabyte to restrain him."
As Fire Flash thought about the scenario in her head, Taldaris turned his gaze to the Floater. "Furthermore, you said you didn't know what to do at the bar? Well, I'm told that the food and drink here is far superior to Cafeteria fare..."
"Not that he would know," quipped Fire Flash, "because... just look at him."
"Hilarious," said the mouthless agent, rolling his eyes. "As I was saying, there are plenty of non-alcoholic beverages to be had here. Might I suggest ordering one?"
"Or root beer, so long as it isn't caffeinated. Yep, I'm so devoted to keeping mind-altering chemicals out of my body that I don't even drink coffee. As for Kala, she's a girtablilu from the Monster Musume continuum, so she's just a scorpion woman. Granted, that means she's wicked strong and has a paralytic neurotoxin in her stinger, but I try to avoid thinking of her as a monster girl. She gets rather touchy about being reminded that she's different from humans."
Something occurred to him, and Valon smiled. "The PPC might be good for her. It's just so diverse that 'abnormal' is just par for the course here."
Fire Flash fiddled with her soft drink's crazy straw. "There's the 'lost-my-marbles' kind of weirdness you see from people that have been here for too long, there's the 'nonhuman' agent kind of weird-- me, Big Bro, your partner-- and then there's the Flowers."
"Not to mention that some types of weirdness gravitates towards certain departments," added Taldaris. "I found that a lot of the alien or super-strong humans tend to gravitate towards the Security Departments."
"Heh, like us, right? Yeah, and the ones that read fics in their off time tend to wind up in FicPsych."
"That's not what--"
"Anyways! Vance. What led you to the PPC? I'm guessing it wasn't for the people of the food," said Fire Flash.
"I stayed because why the hell not. I provide my own food, and I don't usually see people because I rarely leave the RC."
"So whaddya do you do all day long? Sit around and brood until the console goes off in your ear? Think up new and interesting ways to convince yourself not to leave the RC? Play video games? Seriously: books and TV can only replace face-to-face interaction so much before you start slipping into complete and absolute despair."
"I wouldn't put it exactly that way," said Taldaris, "but my sister has a point. What is the worst thing that people can do to you? Greet you? Speak to you? Be friendly to you?"
"I mostly read and play games, video or tabletop. As for why I don't usually socialize, I'm a bit paranoid about accidentally offending people. I have a tough time reading people, and this is the PPC, so if I say the wrong thing to an agent, I'm probably going to Medical."
(OOC: Ohai my attitude bleeding through.)
Taldaris looked down at Fire Flash as she took a sip of soda. She put down her drink and looked back at him. "Yeah, I said it! Screw 'em! Living a life in a hole is pathetic! What is he? A stalli-- man or a mouse? Life won't spoon-feed him until he's old so he should stand up for himself instead!"
The mare turned her green eyes on Valon. "Look mate, I'm only going to say this once so listen up. 'Accidentally offending people' is the single worst excuse I've ever heard in my entire life, ever. News flash: we're surrounded by offensive things. Hell, the PPC is founded on the principle that badfic offends us--"
"More like Suvians pose a threat to the structure of the multiverse as a whole," corrected Taldaris.
"Shut your non-existent cakehole, T. I wasn't talking to you. So, offensive things. Everyone deals with 'em and gets on with their lives. Everyone. No exceptions. So what if you offend someone? As long as it wasn't intentional you apologize and learn from the experience. Yeah, it sucks to mess up and look like an idiot-- but suck it up. And even if they do get mad and try to punch your lights out... you have legs, right? Nobody's stopping you from picking your fights."
"Once again, not how I'd put it," said the protoss, "but still applicable nonetheless."
"I'm still not too great at socialization. And now I'm thinking of puppies learning to get along. I wonder who that weird ghost in Lumiose City is... are there any ghosts in the PPC?"
Valon's brief moment of melancholy had passed; his normal chaotic train of thought had reasserted itself.
"Wait, wha...?"
"The Luminose ghost girl is most likely an unimplemented event," said Taldaris without skipping a beat, "and several ghosts are currently employed by the PPC, yes. Miss Doom/Gloom is a perfect example of this." The protoss then leaned forward a bit. "And what are 'puppies'? It's not something I'm familiar with."
"Luna's stars. You're hopeless," grumbled Fire Flash.
"Anyway, have either of you heard of Dungeons and Dragons? I don't play DnD specifically, but I am looking for people willing to play Pathfinder, which is greatly similar."
"but I don't know anything about it. Sorry dude, you're gonna have to look elsewhere."
"Agent Vance. Out of sheer curiosity do you exercise? asked Taldaris. "I think that your musculature and complexion might benefit from vigorous exercise. Do you run? Swim? Lift weights?"
"I'm gonna have to go with D, none of the above. I had a pretty sedentary lifestyle before joining the PPC. I dance sometimes when nobody's around, but that hardly counts."
Valon rolled his shoulder a few times. "Some more shovel swings might change that. I bashed in a character replacement's skull on our last mission. The main Replacement Stu got eaten by a slime and a swarm of the minis based on her, but what else can you do with a character replacement of Alex Freaking Mercer?"
"Is there a stage? Because I'm not a good fighter or socialite, but I am good at one thing: performance. Maybe I could sing?" He started singing to himself again; he had a soothing baritone. "I hear the train a-coming, it's a-rolling round the bend..." He stopped and grinned again. "I used to sing my younger siblings to sleep. I've been singing as long as I could speak. About the only thing I'm confident in."
((Homework is piling up on my end and I've been fairly inconsistent with my replies. Sorry!))
- - -
"If I recall correctly, the Department of Operations has a choir that's open to all PPC agents," said Taldaris. "Due to short-staffing, they're always a few members short. Perhaps you could audition for a position?"
"Yeah, at least I'd get you out of the RC," said Fire Flash. "I know that the D-Ops choir often sings with the DBS philharmonic. I bet you'd get to know a lot of other music-lovers over there."
"What is this place, brother?" Velociripper asked anxiously, stepping into the pub after Falchion.
"Rudi's pub," the Skarmory replied. "Rashida told me she visits this place every once in a while to unwind. I'm not sure why she'd come here, but I guess it's worth a try."
"If they sell Sue flesh, I'll definitely consider it."
"They don't, sadly. But I'm pretty sure they'll be happy to provide a hadrosaur steak or two if you ask politely."
The two of them were just about to look for a table when they noticed a brown-haired angel in a pink toga sitting at the bar. He was halfway through his goblet of dark red drink when he turned to see the two of them, his blue eyes widening in surprise.
"Shinseina tawagoto! IT'S A DINOSAUR!" he cried, immediately bolting for Ripper. "I'M GONNA *hic* WRASSLE IT!!!"
Before the Deinonychus could respond, he'd grabbed him by the neck and suplexed him. Ripper managed to roll over and try to throw him off, but Falchion was quicker.
The angel yelped as he felt a sharp peck in the backside, and his grip loosened just enough for the Skarmory to yank him off the raptor agent with one of his taloned feet.
"Sorry, kid, but we don't wrestle other agents around these parts," he clucked in a mixture of embarrassment and amusement.
"Oh, he's an agent too?" the angel half-slurred. "Sorry, I *hic* didn't know!"
"You wouldn't have," Falchion warbled cheekily.
"It appears that I'm not the only newcomer around here," Ripper snorted, detecting the faint scent of glitter from the angel who had just glomped him. "What is your name?"
"I'm Cupid!" the angel said cheerfully, before hiccuping yet again. "I just got recruited a little while ago, so I thought I'd make myself known!"
"Throwing another agent across the pub isn't exactly how I'd make a name for myself, honestly," Falchion laughed. "But y'know, no pressure. Anyway, why don't you bring your drinks over here and hang out with us?"
"What was that you were just drinking, anyway?" asked Ripper as the two paravian agents (the term coming from the group of dinosaurs more closely related to modern birds than Oviraptor) took a table and looked through the menu.
"Bleeport," Cupid replied cheerfully, picking up his goblet and bottle before heading over to their table. "Bleeprin-laced synthetic fortified wine!"
Falchion took one look at the angel, and warbled another laugh. "This explains so much..."
((this is canon, BTW))
Ami watched the rambunctious angel bemusedly. "I can't believe you seriously thought that guy was Pit," she remarked to their guest.
"He looked the same! I was just as much of a Sue back then!" she said defensively. "Give me a break!"
Miguel laughed quietly. "Maybe when you stop being an easy target, Vi." He dealt ten white cards each to Chris, Ami, and the girl, before taking ten for himself. "All right, gang. Ten rounds, no stalling, no whining, no card trades. Let's play. The first black card is..." He turned over a black card, looked at it, and snickered. "'A new study shows that blank helps you live longer.'"
Ami looked at her hand carefully. She must have drawn some really strange cards, because she promptly put her hand next to her (empty) teacup and buried her face in her hooves.
"Offended already, Ami?" Chris chuckled. He passed a random white card to Miguel. "Maybe we should play Apples to Apples next time."
"It's not my fault if they thought it was funny to put weird creepy things in this game," the pony replied without looking up.
Vi passed the card on her far right to Miguel. "You're supposed to pick whatever you think is funniest," she said.
"Thanks," Ami shrugged. She concentrated, and a card on the left side teleported out of her hand and in front of Miguel. (Face down, of course.)
Miguel smiled at the girls. "What have we got here...?" He turned over Chris' card. "'The Force.' Well, you're not wrong." Ami's card. "'Necrophilia'...?" He ate half a bar of Bleepolate before turning over Vi's card. "And 'YouTube'. Chris, you get this round's Awesome Point and are now the Card Czar."
"Excellent," Chris said in his best Mr. Burns voice. He drew a white card and passed another to Ami and Vi, respectively. "The next black card is..." He turned it over. "'Where does Batman get all those toys?'"
...and recognized V.R.'s blonde hair and white wings almost immediately.
"Hiiii, V.R.~!" he said, waving at her. "I really missed you! How's life, huh? Have you been assigned to a department yet?"
Ripper looked around as well, and sniffed at the female angel. "Apparently, this one is new. It might be better to just leave her and her pack alone."
"What? But she's my girlfriend! Well, was, before I got exorcised and all. But well, yeah! That's her!"
Ripper shrugged and turned to Ami. "Falchion told me about you and Chris, horned mammal. I see you and your pack are playing some kind of... game, is that the proper term?"
Vi giggled awkwardly and waved back. "There's a sentence I never thought I'd say. I haven't been assigned yet; the Floating Hyacinth said she'll decide once my Glitter level is below 100." She discreetly passed a white card to Chris.
"Not that we mind, you understand," Ami piped up. "It's actually quite nice, having an angel around. She's a really good listener, for one thing. And have you tried her chocolate curry rice? It shouldn't possibly work, but somehow it tastes amazing!"
Chris nodded. "Darn right. By the way, Ami, pass a white card or forfeit this round."
"Oh, right." The pony sheepishly passed a white card to Chris, as did Miguel. "Also, to answer your question, sir, that is the right word." (She would later wonder how in all the worlds a dinosaur had gotten into the PPC, and how she'd brought herself to talk to it instead of running away.)
Chris turned over Miguel's white card. "'An argument with Richard Dawkins', I have no clue who that is..." Vi's card. "'Red velvet cake'..." Ami's card. "And 'A rip in the space-time continuum'. Ami, you get the Awesome Point and Card Czar privileges."
Ami hoof-bumped Vi and magically distributed new white cards (as well as taking the black card). "OK, next question...'I heard blank and blank are going to be on Broadway!'"
"...unless, of course, you happen to be weak and unfit for survival, and I don't believe that to be the case. I am Velociripper, by the way. I hail from the Jurassic Park continuum, and like your angel packmate, I too am recovering from my past life as a Gary Stu, albeit an antagonistic one in my original homefic."
"Oooh, is that Cards Against Humanity?" Cupid interjected. "I love that game! Got room for one more?"
Ripper let out a rasping noise that sounded like a chuckle, shaking his head with a toothy smirk. "You are still a wandering lone male, Cupid. I don't think challenging a member of an existing pack would be a smart idea."
"Oh come on, it's just a game!" the angel insisted. "It's not like there's gonna be any fighting for dominance or stuff like that. Anyway, what are your names? Aside from V.R., I mean!..."
"I loved that movie as a kid! I'm Miguel, by the way, nice to meet you. My horned friend over here is Ami--" she waved at Cupid and Ripper "--and the guy in the red hat is Chris. Cupid, we'll deal you in after this round." He passed Ami two white cards.
"Jurassic Park...?" Vi said thoughtfully. "Isn't that the one where they resurrect dinosaurs from, like, ancient mosquito blood and then everything goes kablooey?"
Miguel nodded. "I have to wonder, though; since dinosaurs are-slash-were so dangerous, why don't newly-resurrected fossil Pokemon go all 'Dinosaur SMASH' on their trainers?"
"They're only level five when resurrected, if I remember right," Chris pointed out, passing two random white cards to Ami. "Also, two of the successes are unevolved. That only leaves Aerodactyl as a potential threat. And while I won't deny that Aerodactyl are scary, let me repeat: Level five."
Violet frowned at her hand, picked two at random, and handed them to Ami. "...I have no idea what you're talking about, but okay. I'll roll with it."
"Let's see what we've chosen," said Ami. She turned over Chris' cards. "'A literal Dragon' and 'Pink elephants'. Oh, good grief." Violet's cards. "'Michael Keaton' and 'Insect-like aliens'? That sounds hilarious!" Miguel's cards. "And 'Kazoo serenades' and 'All the people.' Miguel, the Awesome Point goes to you."
Miguel smiled. "Thanks, but...we'll need to start the game over now that Cupid's in. It wouldn't be fair to him otherwise, you see. Ami, would you...?"
Ami's horn gained a blue aura. "No problem, buddy." She levitated every single white and black card back to their respective decks before shuffling them.
Chris moved his chair to the left. "Pull up a chair and sit with us, Cupid. You've eaten, right?"
...Cupid cheered, earning odd looks from the others. He picked up his drinks and headed over to the seat they'd opened up for him.
"...Are you sure you're in the proper state to play?" Ripper asked dubiously. "I don't think you can handle Bleeport as well as you think you do."
"Oh, come on! It's a synthetic alcohol substitute! What can possibly go wrong?"
He sat down and put his Bleeport and goblet in front of him. "Wanna join us, dino boy?"
"No thanks," the raptor replied, his clawed wings seeming to shrug. "I'd rather observe how this plays out. Though given that you've chosen unwisely with the Bleeport, I have a feeling it will be... fascinating..."
Ripper turned to the others. "And as for the matter of fossil Pokemon, I'm afraid that the continuum in question was not among the long list of worlds included in my homefic. And since I joined the PPC, I have been familiar primarily with the anime and not the games. I did spend some time as an Archeops on my first mission, however, which was an interesting experience. It's a shame that Randa had to leave Rina's pack after we finished the job, though."
"Also, since I have no idea what 'floor ice cream' is..." He flagged down a nearby waiter. "Excuse me, could we get a medium pepperoni pizza, please?"
He raised an eyebrow but wrote down Chris' order anyway. "Anything else, sir?"
"Well...and a hayburger for Ami, if you don't mind."
Ami dealt ten white cards to everyone at the table. "Thanks for the hayburger. OK, ten rounds or until our pizza arrives, whichever happens first. No stalling, no card trades, and no peeking. Let's play. Black card number one reads..." She turned it over. "Oh, fun. 'What plays a major role in the new Disney Princess movie?'"
"Medium rare, marinated in beechnut oil and garnished with magnolia flowers and cycad fronds."
The waiter looked at him, a little confused, but shrugged, jotted down the order, and moved away.
"I have been meaning to try the cuisine of the Hell Creek Formation for quite some time," the raptor said when Cupid looked at him with a completely vapid "I have no idea what you just said" expression. "I told Falchion that part of my original motivation was a change from the routine, and if I can't rebel against the current authority, I suppose a sampling of North American Maastrichtian dining would suffice."
"For someone who once tried to bring about the extinction of humanity, you sound rather classy," the angel said with a smirk and a slight slur, before taking another swig of Bleeport.
Ripper blinked his yellow eyes at him. "You know?"
"Yeah. Sarah told me about you when she related her homefic to me a while ago. I mean, wow, eleven different continuua? How did you even survive?"
"I would have died," Ripper said flatly. "I have Falchion to thank for giving me a second chance. Though I do have to wonder..." He turned to Chris and Ami. "How has the hunting been for you three as of late?"
((And while we're at it, our could relate their previous missions to each other, just to keep each other up to speed. We could do that while the game is being played! :D))
"Not too bad, considering we've only killed two Sues so for," Ami replied. "The hardest part about them is training Miguel and Violet, I think. Chris and I have read a lot of mission reports over HQ internet, but it's not the same as actual experience."
"'In the land of the blind, the one-eyed man is king'," Violet remarked sagely. She passed Ami a white card.
Chris rolled his eyes indulgently at the angel girl. "Metaphorical sight is irrelevant when you have to fight replacement legendaries and a demon," he pointed out. "Honestly, we're lucky we had Miguel with us both those times or things would've gone pear-shaped fast. Black Butler demons are so overpowered it's not even funny."
Miguel smiled gratefully. "Happy to help, Chris. And of course they're better than the rest of us, they're supernatural beings."
"He's not wrong, you know," said Ami.
"Not helping."
"Hey, Vi, random question." Chris passed Ami a card on the far left of his hand. "Do you think your Aquarius Blade would help keep the minis in line?"
"Hmm...I hadn't thought of that," she said. "I guess it would treat them like any other monster, but hopefully without the killing part. I put all my favorite powers on it before the last mission for extra oomph. Hope those guys are vulnerable to paralysis!"
"Wait, how does a blade made of water paralyze something?" Miguel wondered.
"The blade doesn't. The charge shots do," Violet clarified.
Miguel shrugged and passed Ami a card from the middle of his hand. "Fair enough."
((Belated note: This RP takes place after my yet-to-be-written-and-released second mission. Details about said mission will be vague so I don't end up contradicting myself.))
"You have an Aquarius Blade?" asked Cupid eagerly, taking a card from his own hand and passing it to Ami. "Awesome! I've got an Angel Bow myself, along with some Guardian Orbitars and a Ninja Palm. Though that may be because my abilities are inspired by Pit's Smash Bros. moveset and allow for more than one weapon. So, what do our cards say, huh?"
"I'll pretend I understood what you said," Ripper said dryly. "Because I honestly don't. Anyway, I've had only one mission myself. Falchion took me into a Pokemon badfic, accompanied by Rina and Randa, and we spent the day stalking some rather... passionate replacements of the Team Rocket duo along with a duplicate of Gary Oak. Additionally, I have already told V.R. shortly afterward that I dealt with a pretentious replacement of Ash."
"You... dealt with him?" asked Cupid skeptically.
Ripper licked his chops wistfully. "Correct. He made the best meat on the bone I ever had the fortune to have - and I am sure that he won't be missed."
The brown-haired angel scooted his chair away from him slightly, realizing what the feathered hunter had meant almost immediately.
The slightly horrified silence from the rest of the table was palpable.
"...Good to know," said Ami, looking slightly pale. "Let's see what you guys chose." She turned over Miguel's card. "'Space Invaders'? That just sounds weird."
"Hey, don't knock it till you try it," Violet cut in. "I saw the machine for it over in the arcade area. Once we've eaten, I'll show you how to play, alright?"
Chris laughed quietly. "Good luck. I can't even teach her how to use the DVD player, never mind play Space Invaders."
"Don't talk about me like I'm not here, Chris," Ami interjected. She turned over Cupid's card. "'An eight-minute mile'..." Miguel's card. "'Red velvet cake'..." Chris' card. "'Macrame handbags.' And the Awesome Point goes to...Cupid!"
"Though I honestly have no idea how an eight-minute mile would play a major role in a Disney princess movie... Didn't they stop making those, anyway?"
"Trust me, humans will never stop licensing merchandise that proves to be popular," Ripper chimed in. "And I am honestly confused as to how you would find that combination humorous as well. It's probably more nonsensical than anything."
The angel shrugged and took another swig of Bleeport. "Hey, I don't make that much sense, either! *hic* So, next round?"
"Maybe whoever the next one is will run track to keep her lovely hourglass figure. Ooo! And then she could save the day by running an eight-minute mile to the bad guys' hideout and disable their secret weapon!"
"I want another princess who fights, personally," Miguel commented. "The Internet loves ass-kicking women. Mulan, Zelda, Gamora, Annabeth, Clair--"
"Clair is evil incarnate and you know it," said Chris hotly. "Jasmine is much better. She's kind, she's a good sport, she actually runs her city..."
"All you need to beat Jasmine is a Typhlosion and a Water-type with Surf," Miguel countered. "It's like she wants you to win, seriously."
"You take that back!"
"It's true! And Olivine Gym is boring!"
"At least it and its leader don't give trainers Beasts-forsaken nightmares for a week!"
Ami created a megaphone for herself. "Okay!" she said clearly. "That's enough fanboying for one night."
"I'm not a fanboy!" Chris and Miguel protested.
"Whatever you are, arguing about it can wait until later," Ami declared, sounding remarkably like their mothers. "Anyway, in light of Cupid's current state, Violet will be Card Czar this round."
Violet blinked in surprise. "Uh...is that allowed? I don't think that's allowed."
"Vi, he's drunk off his perpetually-teenage angelic ass," Miguel deadpanned, drawing a new card (as did Chris and Ami). "Do you want a drunk Card Czar?"
The angel girl shivered, then drew another white card. "Good point. OK, next black card..." She turned one over. "'Even today, some people insist that we never visited blank.'"
...before taking another swig of Bleeport. "Whaddya mean, V.R. will be the Card Czar? I'm perfectly fine! *hic*"
"My guess is that you do not handle fermented substances well," Ripper said calmly.
"But Bleeport is a synthetic wine! It's not like it's going to get me in any trouble..."
As Ripper watched, Cupid drank another mouthful of the Bleeport, and promptly started singing Pit's victory song prior to his visit to the Lunar Sanctum, albeit badly slurred and interrupted by periodic hiccuping.
"In any case, should you become too incapacitated to proceed, I'll take over for you," the Deinonychus said with a shrug. "I'm curious now - does this... 'game'... function like some of the other card games I've seen my handlers play? Like say, bridge or crazy eights?"
"You said earlier that you didn't see why an eight-minute mile in a Disney Princess movie was funny, so you must know at least the basics of Cards Against Humanity," said Miguel suspiciously. "How do you go from that to asking if it's like bridge? What is bridge, anyway?"
"Probably what my mom did all day while I was traveling Johto," Chris deadpanned. He passed Violet a card from the middle of his hand. "Besides buy stuff for me with the prize money I sent her, I mean."
Ami, who had been humming "Winter Wrap-Up" to herself to block out Cupid's...enthusiastic singing, passed the card farthest to her right and smiled at Chris. "You sent your mom money? That's really sweet. I hope you get to meet her again someday."
He took his hat off and looked at the floor. "...me too," he whispered.
"...sounds like something I honestly do not understand. Though that may be due to my mentality being different than that of a human."
The Deinonychus scratched behind his ear with his killing claw, watching Cupid finish his drunken song.
"I've never had a mom," the angel admitted. "Lady Palutena created me..."
"I don't think that was the case," Ripper replied. "You were an author-wraith given a physical form, at least from what Rashida told me about you."
"And you're a skinny dinosaur," the angel replied before hiccuping again. "You don't plan to eat us, right?"
"The Flowers would have me executed if I dared," the raptor replied honestly. "Getting back to your question about bridge, Miguel, it is a popular team-based card game in which each two-player team bids on a particular card arrangement in each turn. My handlers used to play that game when I was younger, but I haven't participated in it myself. I would like to, however."
Cupid picked a card. "So, what do our cards say, huh?" he asked. "Oooh, and can Ripper play?"
"We'd have to start over again if that was the case, apparently. In case you've forgotten, that happened when you joined in."
"Ripper just admitted he doesn't understand humor. I don't think letting him play would be a good idea."
Ami smiled gratefully. "Hey, Miguel, are you still playing?"
"Bwuh? Oh, yeah, thanks." Miguel quickly chose a card on the left side of his hand and passed it to Violet.
She turned over Cupid's card. "'The Westboro Baptist Church'? What in the Underworld is that?"
"A bunch of loudmouthed reactionary crackpots," Miguel said coldly. "The rest of you are lucky you don't know of them."
Violet wisely decided not to press the issue and turned over Ami's card. "'Stonehenge'..." Chris' card. "'Double espresso shots'? ...OK, then." Miguel's card. "And 'Michael Keaton.' Ami, the Awesome Point and Card Czar privileges are yours."
"Yay!" Ami cheered. She waited for the others to draw a white card before taking one herself and revealing the next black card. "'Blank is not responding and must be shut down. Please contact your blank if the problem persists.'"
It sounded like the beginning of a bad joke, and Alex made sure to say so.
Zeb frowned. "I feel like I'm missing something."
"It's just a standard joke setup," Rina said, sliding into a booth. "You know, a hag, an ogre, and a troll walk into a bar? A blonde, a brunette, and a redhead walk into a bar?"
Zeb shook his head. "Never heard of that, sorry." He remained standing at the end of the table; the booths weren't really designed with Luxrays in mind.
Alex gave him an odd look. "Do they not have humor in Sinnoh?" He yelped when his sister kicked him under the table. "What was that for?" He tried to kick her back, but ended up hitting her seat instead.
"Don't be so rude, okay?" she said, looking over the menu. "Hmm, I think I'll just go for Polar Expresshot chocolate again."
"Ooh, they have that?" Alex asked, his eyes widening. "Sweet!"
"I'll probably just get some Poffins," Zeb said.
Once they'd gotten their food, they settled into a comfortable silence, though Alex started bouncing anxiously in his seat and looking interestedly at the other patrons.
...a yellow blur, then something white and yellow slammed violently into one of the table's legs. There came another quick scuffling noise before a Jolteon wearing a K9-style ballistic vest propped himself up at table-level with its front paws, knocking away a stack of paper towels and the saltshaker. The Lighting Pokémon locked eyes with the Luxray.
"Hey!" it squeaked though its collar-mounted Universal Translator. "You're a Pokémon! I'm a Pokémon too! There aren't many of us here! You should eat with us!" It craned its head towards a table occupied by a man slumped over a bowl of soup and a Lucario daintily snacking on some Poké puffs. A Skiddo laid by by the man's feet, sleepily munching on some salad. "Wait... Where's Victoria? She was there a second ago," said the Jolteon. "Let me call her. VICTORIAAAAAA--"
Almost instantly after the little yellow Pokémon started yelling, a Gardevoir-- also clad in body armour-- appeared next to the Jolteon and yanked its away from the table by its armour's carrying handle. As she tried to hold back her overly-excited partner, she stuttered some excuses in the Pokémon language while avoiding eye contact with the table's occupants. After a few moments of struggle, the Jolteon broke free from Victoria's grip and propped himself on the table again, this time closer to Zeb. "Hey, so whaddya say? Wanna join the cool kids for lun--URK!"
This time, the Jolteon had been pulled away by a human-- a tall bespectacled brown-haired man with green eyes. "That's enough, Maxwell. Go back to the table now."
"But Beeeeeeen... It's a real life Luxray!" whined Maxwell. "Maybe he wants to--"
"Maybe he wants to eat in peace," replied the man. "Now go."
The Jolteon harrumphed and skulked back towards the table occupied by the other Pokémon. Meanwhile, the man turned back to the table. "Hey guys, sorry about that. Er, Maxwell hasn't broken anything, right...? No? Oh, good. Uh... gosh this is awkward. Sorry again."
but he glanced at his companions and Printworthy. "Excuse me, but I hope you don't mind?"
"Nah, go have fun," Rina said, smiling.
Zeb got up and headed over to the Jolteon's table. The Eeveelution was rated fine-looking, he had to admit, though a bit... excitable. Still, it would be interesting to meet other Pokémon agents.
(Continued from here.)
Falchion heard the little commotion from the table next to them, and when he and the others looked up, he saw a familiar face.
"Hi, Rina!" he called out to her. "I see you got a new, er, partner..."
"A Luxray?!" Cupid cried out before taking another sip of Bleeport. "And a Jolteon and a Gardevoir?! SUGOI!!! I can't believe it - I'm surrounded by Pokemon! *hic*"
"Plus one deinonychosaur," Ripper added before nodding to Zeb. "You must be Rina's new partner, am I correct?"
Falchion shifted a little in his seat. "I guess he is. Hey Gleam-Eyes, do you mind, oh, not sitting next to me? I'm not very comfortable with Electric-types..."
Rina winced apologetically at Alex and Printworthy. "Sorry, one mo." She waved at Falchion. "Hey, Falch! Do you mind? I'm already kind of busy."
Zeb, meanwhile, starting to feel extremely overwhelmed by all the noise, tucked his tail between his legs as he went to join Maxwell. He made sure to give the Skarmory a wide berth.
...as he saw the Luxray approaching the table, followed by Victoria and her trainer. He dashed over to Zeb and started prancing around him. "Hey! Hey! You made it! Yeah, this way to the cool kid's table! Over there we have Owen," Maxwell nodded towards the seated Lucario, who was now sizing up Zeb the same way a hunter would size up a deer in his crosshairs, "do not make eye contact with him, thank you, and under here we have Buck. Say hi, Buck!"
The Skiddo blearily opened its eyes, saw Maxwell, and closed his eyes again. "Bêêê."
"Close enough. You've already met Vicky," continued Maxwell as the Gardevoir regained her seat, "and I'm Maxwell. Oh yeah, and that's my trainer Ben. Say hi, Ben!"
"Ben" stopped in his tracks and scowled at Maxwell. "Look Max, I know you're happy to see other 'mons here but you have to remember your manners." The man looked at the DMS agent and had out his hand. "Sorry for the disturbance, Assassin. I've been trying since forever to get his little hopped-up caffeine addict to sit still. I'm Benoît Proulx, Internal Affairs. I've got a partner, Meryem, but she's filing a report at the office right now. So, uh... what's your name, mate?"
The Luxray bowed his head to the trainer. "Pleasure to meet all of you. And I don't mind, really," he said, nodding at Maxwell. "It's almost a relief to see some energy around here." He shifted nervously, looking everywhere but the Lucario. "So..." He cast about for a topic. "Um..." If he'd been human, sweat would be beading on his brow. As it was, his thick mane suddenly felt very hot. "How is everyone?"
"It's been a rather long day, friend. Personally, I'd rather not talk about it--"
"It's because he fell chest-first into a bear trap," whispered Maxwell to Zeb.
"While shutting down an illegal Shaymin cloning-slash-breeding operation that was hidden in the Courtyard," continued the DIA officer, rubbing his eyes. "But yeah. Owen and Victoria just had their Universal Translators fried by one of Maxwell's Thunder Waves--"
"Without which the bad guys would've gotten away," added Maxwell again.
"--so that means we have to either bring them to that crazy Time Lord the next time I see him or go to the DoSAT, whichever comes first. Oh yeah, and Meryem still needs to swing by the armoury and get her old SMG traded in for a newer one. Thanks for reminding me," said Benoît as he pulled a notepad from his ballistic vest's pocket and scribbled down a note.
Owen finished his Poké puff and stared at Zeb over steepled paws. "So, how long have you been here, rookie?" he asked in the Pokémon language. "And relax. Your Aura positively reeks of fear."
"I— I've only been here a few days," he mumbled, his ears flattening. Despite the Lucario's words, he felt anything but calm. "It's been, uh, interesting. Not exactly peaceful, but..." He faltered. It seemed like everyone was looking at him. "B-but..."
Owen continued to stare unblinkingly at Zeb. "But what? Meowth got your tongue?"
Benoît rapped his spoon against his bowl. "Oi, Owen. Can't you see you're freaking him out? Change your behaviour or put a lid on it."
The Lucario looked at his trainer and nodded. "Sir." He fell silent and took another puff from his plate, slowly breaking it apart with his paws.
Victoria slid in between Zeb and Owen, breaking the latter's line-of-sight. "That's quite enough of that. Now then, you said you were Zeb? As Maxwell mentioned, I'm Victoria. It's a pleasure to meet you," she said as she curtsied.
From below the table, Buck the Skiddo shuffled towards Zeb. He looked up at the Luxray and smiled. "Don't mind Owen. He's just testing your mettle. Just stand up to him and speak your mind."
The corner of Owen's lips became slightly tighter, as if he were holding back a smile.
Maxwell gave Zeb a little one-two punch with his paws. "So, yeah! If you need anything, just ask us! We 'mons gotta stick together, amirite?"
= = = =
((Because I can't resist...
Owen: Serious nature. Proud of its power.
Victoria: Timid nature. Good endurance.
Buck: Relaxed nature. Takes plenty of siestas.
Maxwell: Rash nature. Impetuous and silly.
Benoît: Beleaguered nature. Tired of having to discipline everyone.))
Zeb yelped and jumped away, electricity crackling across his body. It was a good thing Maxwell had the Volt Absorb ability, otherwise he would have been shocked.
The Luxray backed away, fighting the urge to turn and run. "I'm sorry," he apologized through his gritted teeth, "you startled me."
((Sorry mine are so short! Anyway:
Zeb: Timid nature. Likes to fight.))
Maxwell shook himself like a wet dog as his fur stood on end. "Thanks for the amperage, Z-man. I needed the pick-me-up."
Benoît and Owen, on the other hand, noticed Zeb's sudden recoiling motion. The Lucario sensed some memories through the Luxray's panic-tinged Aura: a flash of light, an almighty roar, and pain. Benoît, as an aspiring Ranger, recognized a fearful 'mon when he saw one. The two shared a knowing look and turned to Zeb again.
"Rookie, calm yourself. Ain't nobody gonna try and hurt you here," said Owen.
Benoît slipped a hand into his Bag of Holding and withdrew a Lum berry. He set it on the table in front of the Luxray. "Here, chew on this. You'll feel better."
Zeb shook himself. "I don't know what came over me. Thank you." He carefully took the Lum berry in his mouth and chewed, doing his best to not grimace at the bitter taste. He did feel a little calmer once he'd swallowed.
He looked around, hoping to draw the attention off of him. "So, how did you guys become a team? If... if you don't mind me asking, that is."
"Nah, not a problem. All four of these guys came with me when I fell into HQ about... a year ago? Yeah, that seems about right." The DIA officer pointed at Buck. "This guy here. First on the team. He's a gift from my parents who are a Pokémon Breeders back home. I knew him ever since he was a kid-- he still hasn't grown much, has he? Truth be told, he isn't much one for fighting-- Owen, Victoria, and Maxwell are sent out more often than he is."
Benoît pointed at Owen next. "Second to arrive. Buck and I used to go Pokémon hunting just east of our hometown. I had managed to save up enough money to buy two Great Balls and I was going to find me a rare 'mon and catch it. I spent three days fighting hordes of Litleos until he showed up. It was a big fight: Buck nearly got knocked out and I had to use both of my Great Balls to catch him. Over time the three of us became great friends and Owen evolved into a Lucario."
"I met Victoria north of my hometown during a family picnic. Of course she was a Ralts back then and she just kept on following us no matter where we moved our stuff! Owen didn't do anything to stop her and Buck actually fell asleep with her at his side so I pretty much let her follow us home. She allowed herself to be primed to a Pokéball and we've been travelling together ever since."
Maxwell dashed over to Benoît's lap and stared up at his trainer. "Me! Me! I'm next!"
The DIA officer scratched behind his Jolteon's ears. "Ha! Of course you are, mate. I met this guy on Route 10. I was actively hunting for Pokémon and he was the first to turn up. I later found a thunderstone in the grass nearby and evolved him into a Jolteon. He may be the biggest fool you ever set eyes on but this guy is the definition of a clutch player: he's got luck, attitude, and won't ever say 'die'. Ain't that right, Maxwell?"
"Yeah! Yeah! That's me!" said Maxwell, grinning broadly. Owen flicked a piece of his last Poké puff towards Maxwell, who leapt and twisted in midair to catch it in his mouth.
Benoît smiled as Maxwell rushed over to Owen to try and beg for more food. "So, what about you? Did you have a trainer or did you come from the wilds?"
((No idea why the name didn't tip me off... *headdesk*))
Zeb shuffled his paws. He wasn't sure how much he wanted to say.
"Well," he began, "I was born in Sinnoh. Or at least, that's what I think happened... Apparently, I actually came from a Pokémon game my current partner once played. A... a Nuzlocke, I think she called it."
He took a deep breath. "It's kind of funny, really. I can't remember much of my old trainer except her name. Bree. Other than that, nothing. It must be some kind of side effect of being the player character." He gave a small laugh. It sounded insincere to him. "My trainer had just made it to I-Iron Island when... something happened to open a plothole and I fell through."
He forced his expression to stay neutral. "That's really kind of it."
((Also, forget Delphox. I'd like a Gardevoir on my team. But Lucario is forever my favorite. ;) ))
"Yeah, I head of those. It's like, you play a regular game except that you pretend that when a 'mon faints it's permadead. Fantastic what you learn once you're outside of your own continuum, eh?"
Victoria rubbed her chin in thought. "Well, considering that your stay in your home universe very suddenly cut short by a sudden traumatic event... and then you woke up here... I think we can all piece together what actually happened." She pulled her chair so that she sat next to Zeb. "Well, you're here now and there's all of us here too. Like Maxwell said earlier, if you want to 'hang out', it's totally all right."
Benoît nodded. "Yep. Meryem, the gang, and I have the Courtyard beat almost to ourselves. If ever you want to find us, just find the PPC Courtyard and start walking. We'll be around."
Zeb could feel tears beginning to well up. "Thank you. I'd love that."
((Erm... not really sure where to go from here. Thoughts?))
"Sure, mate. No problem. By the way, if you're looking for nice sunny places to nap, just ask Buck... when he wakes up," added Benoît, looking down at the standing snoozing Skiddo. "Good lord, I never realized he could actually do that. No wonder he lags behind the group while on exercise."
"I thought you knew," said Owen, trying to hold his plate out of Maxwell's reach. "I was going to ask why you allowed this sort of laziness on the job."
"Hey, you could've told me about it in the first place and I would've had Buck on a Chesto berry diet, genius--"
"Oh, here they go again," sighed Victoria. She turned to Zeb. "How about you? I know it's only been a few days but have you had Moments with your partner yet?"
Zeb asked, racking his brains. "Erm, well, our first mission together, our Gary Stu decided to do a... I think Rina called it a "stripe tease", and he was wearing an undergarment with a target pattern on the backside. And Rina uses a bow, so I'm sure you can imagine what happened next." He paused. "Um, if that's what you meant."
((I feel like I missed something here, so Zeb and I are equally clueless at the moment.))
...Cupid piped up, who had been listening intently to the conversation between Zeb and Benoît's Pokemon along with Ripper and Falchion.
The Deinonychus gave the angel a slightly put-off look. "Cupid, there are juveniles in this pub," he snarled.
"Really, though! Wearing target patterns on your underwear is practically an invitation to get something pointy up your - " Cupid began, but Falchion cut him off.
"We know, Cupid. We know." The Skarmory looked at the Jolteon and the sleeping Skiddo. "I've never been to Kalos myself," he said. "It sounds fascinating."
...and came face-to-face with the Skarmory. "Oh, hello. Sorry, I didn't notice you back there. You were saying about Kalos?"
From across the table, Owen shot Cupid a dirty look. The angel's Aura was somewhat akin to an air horn: loud, flashy, and impossible to miss.
"I do know a lot about the Kalos region, though, as well as most of Pokemon X and Y in general - courtesy of a neat little thing called the Internet. I'm Falchion, by the way. I heard your name's... Ben, right?"
He looked at the Skiddo and the Jolteon again, smiling. "I was a wild Pokemon prior to joining the PPC. I've never known what it's like to have a trainer - though I'll be honest in that working with my partner would be pretty damn close to that!"
"Falchion? Oh, god. That means you're with her. Is it true that she... y'know, killed an agent? She dropped out of DIA because of the incident-- I guess that she wanted to isolate herself-- but do you know anything about that? All we get are rumours and the incident is kept under wraps."
The Kalos native was silent for a few seconds before adding: "Oh yeah. I'm Benoît Proulx, DIA. This is Owen, Victoria, Buck, and Maxwell, by the way."
"And yeah, that sourpuss is my partner, unfortunately. I don't know the specifics myself, but I did meet a friend of hers a while ago, and he was one of the witnesses. From what he told me, she didn't actually kill another agent - but she totally annihilated a character replacement who'd done so."
The Skarmory let his head droop. "Rosie never was the same after what happened, for all I know. She's been really shut in ever since I moved in with her. I can live with her guidance because she knows what she's doing, but my adopted sister had to transfer to another department because of a really bad argument with her a while back."
He sighed sadly, the memory of Sarah's departure still fresh in his head. A moment later, however, he decided to change the subject.
"Anyway, how are things at the DIA right now? Based on what your Pokemon have been explaining to Thundercat over there, it sounds like you've been having a pretty fun time..."
Benoît sighed. "Like I said, we busted a Shaymin cloning op in the Courtyard earlier today. A group of agents went into one of the Pokémon films and took DNA samples from a load of Shaymin. They then dug a big underground hideout in some remote location of the Courtyard and got their hands on some cloning equipment." The DIA officer rubbed his eyes. "These guys had made about a hundred artificially bred Legendaries and were trying to pass them off as another species of Pokémon minis-- yours for twelve easy under-the-table payments. We got wind of the entire affair when one of our Patrol Division officers came into the office a few days ago with his new 'pet' in his arms. An investigation was launched, the seller stopped for questioning, and a search party formed to find the clone lab." Benoît took a sip of his ale. "Meryem-- my partner-- my 'mons, and I are assigned the Courtyard beat so we started our search there. We found the place all right-- but the breeders had booby-trapped nearly all the entrances. Long story short: I fell into a bear trap, all hell broke loose, Maxwell went nuts with his Thunder Wave, two of the ten smugglers got away but we managed to shut down the lab and secured of all the cloned Legendaries. Not bad for a day's work."
Benoît took another sip of his drink. "Yeah, so that's my story. How about you? Got any good ones?"
"I mean, getting caught in a trap and being forced to watch all of that. At least there aren't gonna be any more cloned Shaymins, right?... right?..."
Deciding he had nothing better to do, he flagged down the waiter who had taken the pizza order for Chris and Ami's table and requested some Unfezant Parmesan and a bowl of Mago Berries.
"Funny you should ask," he said to Benoît once the waiter had left. "I think I just heard my new angel friend bring up my very first mission. Yeah, like he said, eleven different continua at once isn't my idea of a good time. But that's not all..."
He looked around to make sure nobody was hearing, and then leaned his armored head in a little closer. "My author was the one who wrote that guano-fest, though in his defense, it was a couple of years ago, and it took a lot of people calling him out on all the Tauros-dung he was producing over the years to get him to stop and think about what he was doing."
He sighed and preened his bladed wing. "Too bad that didn't happen in time to save the badfic. The ending especially was just horrible - I mean, I had no idea it would end up becoming so gruesome. I'll never forget the sight of that one villainous character replacement getting torn to bits by the baby T. rexes from the third Ice Age movie."
"And you missioned a badfic with eleven crossed continua?" Benoît could only stare blankly at the table in disbelief. "I'm so happy I signed up for DIA. I don't think I could ever bring myself to take on a monstrosity like that." He raised his mug of ale and paused halfway through the motion. "Actually... you must've filed a mission report for your mega-crossover mission, right? Where can I find a copy?"
"The Hyacinth will probably know about what happened to it, so you might want to ask her instead."
Falchion clicked his sharp beak, wondering if he should've ordered a diet soda along with his meal. "I always thought the DIA wasn't a nice place myself, but I've always been in Floaters, and what I know is via Rosie's words. She can't come tonight, by the way - she's got errands to run. She hopes you understand."
The Skarmory gave a nostalgic chuckle. "If it was any comfort, I have an adopted sister thanks to that mission. She was the most practical choice to help me out when Rosie got sent to medical due to a stress overload, and getting her to sign up was pretty easy compared to killing off a character replacement who could turn into a T. rex."
He went silent for a few moments, instantly regretting what he'd just said...
"Just last week there was this Potterverse metamorph-something Sue that fell into HQ and tried to infiltrate DMS thinking she could dismantle it from the inside. Granted, she didn't make it very far before a Patrol team discovered her little charade but just the thought that there might be some of us who might be imposters..." Benoît shivered.
"And by the way, what makes you say that DIA isn't a 'nice place'? What do you guys think we do?"
"...into that one horrifying MLP fic involving a homicidal replacement of Big Mac. Again, Rayner was the one who was there and not me, but yeah. I guess that experience alone must've been truly horrible if it led to Rosie deciding to call it quits for that department and find a safer place to lair in."
He paused again, wondering if he should just flag another waiter and get a cola right now. "I wonder what happened to that Metamorphmagus Sue. Given her motives, I doubt there would have been any other option aside from killing her. Of course, that option was too risky for Rayner's current partner - you know, that Ficubus that got dropped on the Sunflora Official's bloom last year. Two-way life connection and whatnot. But I'm pretty sure that if it weren't for that, he would've slew her in a heartbeat."
"Is that what Suvians do out there in the field? Paint targets on themselves? No wonder they get killed in droves."
The Gardevoir looked off into the distance. "Hmm... What can I tell you about my work? Well, there's always that one time we busted a drug ring in the PPC... or about today's cloning lab raid..."
Benoît flinched as he held his chest.
"Or perhaps you'd like to know a little more about HQ? Ask away," said Victoria.
"Well, is it always as hard to navigate Headquarters as I have been led to believe?"
((Note to self: bring more agents next time.))
"And it's not the 'distract yourself' tip that everyone seems to give around here. If you walk around HQ long enough, you'll find that there are patterns that start to emerge: elevators between floors are always at T-shaped intersections in the halls. Light sources are always above even-numbered RCs. A hallways will end in a dead end if two RCs that end with an even number face each other... and so on."
"Yeah! And if you walk for a very long time, the first door to the right when turning a corner always leads to the Courtyard's Big Tree door!" added Maxwell.
He frowned. "But if there are patterns to Headquarters, how does the self-distraction come into play? I might not have been here for very long, but I have heard multiple agents swear by it."
"The more you notice the pattern, the more you move along only one of HQ's six dimensions," said Victoria. "In other words, you just keep going around and around and around until you distract yourself. The trick works great if you have a set path to walk around in HQ-- like all DIA Patrol Officers-- but if you're actually going somewhere then you can distract yourself."
"Wow, you just said absolutely what everyone already knows," quipped Maxwell. "Of course you can easily move around familiar areas!" The Lightning Pokémon looked at Zeb. "She thinks she knows everything..."
Victoria raised a finger. "But," she said, "I wasn't finished. This means that you can divide HQ up into 'flat' slices, like stacked maps. How focused you are on your surroundings limits your movement to a single map and how distracted you are allows you to move up and down the stack of maps."
- - -
((Hopefully that made sense. This is how I imagine HQ to work in my spinoff, so I'm not trying to push an organized model of HQ on anyone or anything.))
Zeb nodded to himself. "I'll be sure to pass the information on to my partner," he said. "She's been an agent for over a year now and thinks distracting oneself is the only way to get around. Told me she memorized two hundred decimals of cake to make it easier, can you believe that?" He laughed.
"Cake?" he yawned. "Where's the cake? Did I miss something?"
"Not cake, Zeb," said Victoria. "It's the number pi. Three-point-one-four... and so on."
Buck approached Victoria. "You have pie? May I have a slice?"
"No pie, Buck. Pi. The number, remember?" said the Gardevoir.
Understanding flashed behind the Skiddo's droopy eyelids. "Oooooh. You mean π. I get it. I like π. It just goes on forever..." And with that he promptly fell asleep again.
Victoria chuckled and patted Buck's head. "Never change, Bucky. By the way, Zeb, are you interested in schooling? I know the Department of Operations has courses for agents who want to learn more about math or science or history or languages. You should try it!"
Zeb resisted the urge to look away. "I would like to learn how to read. Properly learn, I mean. It's probably a bad idea to rely on my Universal Translator all the time."
He thought for a moment. "And I still haven't properly learned how to use my knives, now that I think about it, though the DoO might not cover that." He looked curiously at Victoria. "Have you utilized their services before?"
"But some of us have trouble actually showing up to class." The Gardevoir glowered at Maxwell, who smiled broadly. "We learnt a good deal about basic reading, writing, and mathematics. It's absolutely worth it, trust me. As for combat training..." she turned to Owen. The Lucario crossed his arms over his chest.
"If you're looking for lessons on how to fight, go to the Department of Personnel and request the services of an Agent Trainer. Osbert is the best of the lot but considering you've got the same amount of guts as a bacteria... Hm. Ask for Instructor Tansi. If you don't have the time for a full-on training program, then just swing by to DIA Central and ask to see me." Owen rubbed his paws together. "It'll be my pleasure to turn you from a cowering pile of nerves into a finely-tuned killing machine."
Victoria stared at Owen in silence for a few seconds. "You're absolutely ridiculous, you know that?"
"If you say so, madam."
Buck woke from his catnap again and rose his head. "Uhh... question for Zeb. How exactly does a Universal Translator, uh, translate writing if you can't read? What do you see? Pictograms? Are the words beamed into your head or something?"
"But not actually hear them... It's like I hear it in my head. It's very odd." Zeb thought about it for a second. "Almost like telepathy, I suppose."
He smiled somewhat nervously at Owen. "I'll, erm, think about the offer." He paused. "Wait, they have agent trainers here? I was under the impression that there weren't; my partner told me when she and her old partner first started, they was simply told what each device did, and that they couldn't let the Sues see them, and to make a charge list." He shook his head in disbelief. "Unless that is what the agent trainers do. Which, well, pardon me if I am rude, but that seems like a very poor way of preparing new agents for this job."
"Besides, I think minimal training is the perfect way to prepare agents for the job." The Lucario smiled, exposing a row of sharp teeth. "You either die ignominiously in the field or you prove your superiority over your quarry by ending its life. If you come back alive from your first missions then you're worth something, no? Trainers will then help you expand on that."
Buck laughed. "He's being dramatic about it, Zeb. Trainers are available to anyone-- total newbies included. It's just that Upstairs doesn't tell them right away because there's a backlog of badfic to be killed. Besides, you can learn practically everything there is to know by sticking close to your partner. Er, ideally that partner should be more experienced than you... If you're both total newbies... Uh... Yeah."
Maxwell cocked his head and looked at the Luxray. "Yo, Zeb. I'm noticing that your eyes keep wandering to me. Do I have something on my nose or something?"
- - -
((I like writing Owen. He's the perfect blend of aggressive and unhinged.))
Falchion laughed in embarrassment, but didn't argue. "All righty, then!"
As for Zeb, well... The fact that Cupid was already fawning over him was not exactly helping his case.
"What IVs do you have? What's your movepool? Which items do you use? what's your nature? How much type coverage do you get in the metagame?"
Ripper nipped him in the wing, bringing his attention back to them. "Cupid, you can talk to him later. I'm as curious as you are, but he looks... troubled."
"The dino's right," said Falchion. "Just let him hang out with the others first..."
The angel pouted a little, but didn't argue.
"Rina! My goodness, what a surprise seeing you here!" He cantered over to their table, a mug of Sweet Apple Acres cider leisurely floating beside him.
He looked over the gathering. "And who might these fine fellows be? I don't believe I have met them before." The unicorn extended a hoof towards the other two people at the table. "Printworthy, at your service."
{Marvin is hanging back, for a bit. It will be somewhat explained in the interlude.}
"Printworthy! It's so good to see you!" She pointed at Alex and Zeb in turn. "That's my brother, Alex; he's an intern with the Department of sufficiently Advanced Technology. And this is Zeb. He's my new partner." She paused, hoping her face didn't look as red as it felt. "Um, how's Marvin?"
"A pleasure to meet you both."
He stepped aside, allowing the Pokemon to pass. "By all means. I will have to catch up with you at some point, however."
He looked over to Rina, surprised. "New partner? Oh dear. Did something happen to Randa?"
He nodded his head towards a booth on the opposite side of the room. "He's right over there. He's just relaxing for a moment. I'm sure he'll be over somewhat soon." He glanced over towards Marvin, frowning slightly. "Well, I hope so, anyway."
Rina frowned. "At least, she was when I last heard from her. She's in Bad Slash now."
She glanced over at Marvin. If the blush wasn't noticeable earlier, it surely was now. "Is everything okay with him?"
((foofoo's planning on joining the RP later and asked to borrow his expy, so if Alex seems a bit quiet, that's why.))
"Well, that's good to hear. Given the nature of our ocupation... Well, you can never be sure. Hopefully, she finds Bad Slash more suitable to her."
He nodded. "Marvin is just fine. He just wants to be alone for a bit. Soak in the atmosphere, as it were. He asurred me he would arive shortly.
((Of course, a certain changeling may interrupt that. Oops... Spoilers.))
Alex cut in, his eyes shining. "Are you from Ponyville? Have you ever met Pinkie Pie? What about magic? Can you do magic? That would be so cool OW!"
Rina had kicked him under the table again. Alex shot her a dirty look.
((Eh, foofoo said to go ahead. Whatever. More playtime for me!
Also, changeling whaaaat?))
"Relax, Rina. There's nothing wrong with being curious. I would be happy to answer his questions."
He turned towards Alex. "To your questions; yes, I am indeed Equestrian, however, I am not from Ponyville. While I have visited several times for various reasons, I have never lived there. My home was in Trottingham. However, I have met Pinkie Pie on numerous occasions." He chuckled, thinking back to an interaction he had with the pink pony. "She is a fascinating little pony, isn't she? While I spent far more time with Rainbow Dash, Pinkie was often alongside.
"Now, as for magic..." He levitated Alex's dining utensils, spinning them around in the air, dancing and twirling before settling them down neatly on his napkin. "I think that should answer your question."
((Now, now, Iximaz. Spoilers.
...Although, you might remember Marvin had an assigned RC before meeting Printworty. Just a hint...))
Alex grinned and took a sip of his hot chocolate. "Sounds like you've had some cool adventures."
"Oi, what am I, chopped liver?" Rina protested.
"You don't count, you've already told me your stories." Alex looked eagerly at Printworthy. "Well?"
Printworthy took a sip from his cider. "Back when I was living in Equestia, I was the author of the Daring Do adventure seres. Ah, I see you have heard of it. Yes, well, back then, I had the extraordinary privilege to travel with several archeological teams across Equestia, and beyond, exploring ruins of ancient civilizations for inspiration for my novels." He sighed, taking a somewhat larger gulp of cider. "Sadly, canon has since decided that's not who I am anymore. Now, I'm just a writer."
Printworthy shook his head slightly, chuckling. "However, I doubt you wanted to hear those stories. You were more interested in the stories involving Pinkie Pie, I am sure. Well, to be perfectly honest, there is not all too much to tell, really. I was in Ponyville one day for a book signing at the Golden Oaks Library.
"The turnout was far higher than I ever anticipated, and I was comming off of a long night's worth of writing. I was dog tired, battling the urge to slump over on a limited edition of Sapphire Stone and let the inevitable chores of disappointed cries drift me to sleep. At that point the act of signing became a mere reflexive act. However, when I drug forward the next item to carve my signature into, I found myself scribbling on a gigantic pink mug! Startled, I looked up to see Pinkie Pie. 'You look like you need this,' she said, nudging the mug ever closer. 'Don't worry, it's on the house. Gummy's special blend!" Before I could say a word in thanks, off she went, bouncing around the library from pony to pony!"
Printworthy laughed. "Most of our interactions were like that. Short, yet strange little interactions that brought me immense joy."
Printworthy smiled towards Rina, slyly. "Are you sure you told Alex everything? Including from our last mission?"
"Wh-what do you mean?" she stammered. "I mean, um, yeah, I told him about our mission together."
Alex glanced from Rina to Printworthy. "I get the feeling you didn't tell me everything..."
Rina narrowed her eyes at Printworthy. I dare you, she seemed to say.
"Oh, I am sure she shared all of the important details with you. Although, that does remind me." He turned back towards Rina. "As I recall, you and Marvin did organize a meeting later on. Tell me, how did that work out? Marvin told me you learned his maneuvers rather quickly."
who had buried her face in her arms.
"Sabrina? Have you been—?"
"No!" Rina yelled. She paused, realizing her shout had been rather loud. "We were pegasi, okay? He was showing me how to fly."
"I'm so sure." Alex snickered, bursting into laughter when Rina's face turned scarlet.
"I'm gonna get you for this, pony," she said, glowering.
"I am sorry if you misinterpreted me. I merely wished to know how the flying lessons went, nothing more--"
"YOU!"
Printworthy turned, to see... Rainbow Dash? Who was storming towards Marvin, yelling and screaming all the way. She burst into green flame, melting away the disguise, to reveal the changeling beneath.
"This isn't good..."
((And so the Interlude's actions began. Feel free to continue to interact as though this has not happened yet. All I ask is that Printworthy and Rina be left to deal with the changeling.))
((Also, sorry this took so long. School and sleep got in the way of posting for a while.))
Alex's eyes were huge. "Holy crap, is that a changeling?!"
"Yep," Rina said grimly, reaching for her crowbar. "If she thinks she can come in here like this... Well, she's got another think coming." She got up and hurried over, grabbing the changeling's shoulder. "Hey, lady, whaddaya think you're doing? If you have a fight to pick with Marvin, take it outside."
((I mean, thank you for continuing this, and I will use those exact lines of dialogue when I write the interlude, just not yet. I will send you the doc this weekend, possibly Monday, to add your lines and reactions.))
((The reason why possibly Monday is because I have quite a bit of schoolwork. Much more then I thought I would. Part of why it took so long for me to respond to things. So, I may be writing more papers then interludes this weekend. I will try to crank it out in between papers.))
The doors opened, and a tall, cadaverous young man was shoved roughly into the bar by a woman attached to the body of a seven-foot scorpion.
"Kala, back! RC! Must have minis, not people!"
"Valon, you're never out of the RC except on missions. We need people to contact if we need help, and I figured a bar would be the best place to find them."
Valon fidgeted nervously. "I've never been in a bar, I don't like alcohol, and bars are just where people get dru-"
A scorpion tail to the back of the head shut him up. "A lot of PPC agents are underage. They wouldn't drink actual booze if they knew what was good for them." Kala scuttled away, hoping to find a table she could actually be placed at.
Valon continued to fidget. He didn't know anyone, and social skills were never his forte. "Uh... what do people do at bars besides drink?"
“Your world has a saying about “eat, drink, and be merry”, no?” someone said from behind Valon.
Were he to turn, he'd see a tall, brown-haired man wearing a sensible uniform — black jacket over a white shirt and tie, white, neatly-pressed trousers and brown shoes — accompanied by what looked like a floating, gleaming ball (no larger than a basketball) covered in a thin blue glow.
“Your partner mentioned people to contact should the need arise, no?” the man asked. “She is right — you’ll get into a pinch sooner or later, and you’d rather have someone at your back, trust me.”
“Well, not me, obviously,” the floating ball said in a surprisingly deep voice. “Except if there’s killing involved.”
Valon jumped and whirled around. "DAH! No sneaky sneaky around the jumpy man!" He took a moment to collect himself. "Yeah, that is a thing we say, but I've never been to a bar, or a party, or any social gathering where I was expected to actualy talk to people. I don't know what people do in bars, besides get drunk. By the way, I'm Valon Vance, from Floaters."
“Please to meet you.” The man inclined his head. “I am” — he grimaced — “Navare, also from the Department of Floaters.” He waved at the floating ball. “This is Amris, my partner.”
“I can introduce myself, you know,” Amris groused.
“You didn’t.” Navare shrugged. “Let me show you, Valon. Is that your partner, there?”
"The gypsy girl with eight legs, two pincers and a tail like a wrecking ball? Yyyep, that's my partner, Kala Jeng." The girtablilu in question was quite irritated, as chairs typically aren't made with gigantic scorpions in mind. She looked about to smash the nearest chair, then noticed Valon and his two new acquaintances. She scuttled up to them, her bad mood having evaporated.
"Hi! This is the first time I've seen a glowing ball agent. See, Valon? Socializing isn't hard!" Valon didn't look convinced.
The glowing ball flashed white for a moment, then changed colour to brown tinged with blue. “I am not a glowing ball!” it screeched. “I am a Value 1.0 Drone, you freak of nature!”
Navare, who shielded his eyes from the flash with his arm, sighed. “Amris, calm down. Kala, wasn’t it? That wasn’t very polite. It might be bloodthirsty, sardonic and annoying, but Amris is a person. Not a Shoot Barret.”
Kala's foul mood returned with a vengeance. "Freak of nature? I am a girtablilu, a scorpion woman with the blood of ancient Sumer, I-"
Her tirade was cut short by a swift introduction of her skull to a hardback copy of "A Dance with Dragons." Valon pulled the book away from her head. "Sorry, but people from her home continuum get really touchy about racism. I actually don't know what you're from, but Kala is from Monster Musume." He opened the book and started turning pages. "Let's see... I was at the auction..."
“Both of you — cut it.” Navare’s voice brooked no argument even as he shot a confused look at Valon’s back. “You, Kala — apologise. Amris is not a ball of light. Amris — you too. That was impolite, to say the least.”
“I do apologise,” the Drone mumbled in such a way that made clear he meant no such thing.
Navare sighed, but looked expectantly at the girtablilu.
"Alright, I'm sorry. I know I have anger management issues, I got kicked out of three homes because of it. I just don't like being reminded that this..." She tapped her legs, clicked her pincers a few times, and waved her tail a bit. "... is wrong to humans, or anyone else. Valon knows tht, don't yo-" She turned and found herself talking to air. "Fan-friggin'-tastic, he ran off. You take your eyes off him for a second, and he goes and hides."
Navare shrugged. “I don’t find anything particularly wrong with you. Good soldiers can be found in all sorts of places. Look at me.”
“What he means to say,” the Drone added, the fields covering it now slowly turning completely blue, “is that he was rescued from a really bad fic.”
“You could put that a bit more gently, but yes, it’s right.” The human sighed. “Anyway. Shouldn’t we find a table…? Oh. I guess there’s nothing here for people like you?”
He eyed Kala. “Say, do you mind sitting on the floor?”
Kala sighed again. "I guess have no choice. Even in our RC, I just kinda drape over the couch." She looked around. "Seriously, where'd Valon run off to? He's six and a half feet tall and pale as death, he should really be hard to miss."
“I could try to fashion a chair out of mana for you,” Navare said, “but I’m a combat mage, not a Myedoan builder. Amris could not doubt design something but it’s not inclined toward that, either. Come.”
He led his partner and Kala toward a corner table — coincidentally, across the room from where Valon was sitting — and removed one of the chairs so Kala would have someplace to sit or crouch.
“There’s your partner,” Amris muttered, pointing with a brown field.
"Yup. I wonder when he'll notice that he's not the only one there?" She took her "seat" the only way she really could: allowing all of her legs to give out at once. "So anyway, what continuum are you guys from?"
“I’m from the Culture,” Amris noted. It settled on the table, its fields turning rainbow-coloured.
“‘Communicating by effector’...? Who is it communicating with…?” wondered Navare. “But I forget myself. I am from the Game Theory Alternate Universe of the Magical Girl Lyrical Nanoha continuum.”
"Never heard of The Culture. I have heard of Nanoha, but when I asked Valon about it, he said he'd never seen it. Anyway, I'm from Monster Musume, and Valon says he's from World One." She snapped her pincers a few times. "I actually don't know too many continua. Valon's the canon expert, and he knows just about everything within the canons he is familiar with. I really only know Metal Gear, and that only because my world's author is a huge fan, so Valon thought I should learn."
(OOC: I don't know how to do formatting like italics in this interface...)
“The Culture are the good guys,” Navare said. “The quintessential soft-as-an-ocean space hippies with a do-gooder attitude. That verse is also so technologically advanced it’s a wonder the Culture, the Homomda or the Sublimed didn’t find out about the PPC...”
The mage looked up. “Oh, here’s the waiter. Anything you want, Kala?”
((It's HTML.))
"It's a bar, so I could get drunk... I'd like some coffee."
In response to strange looks, she sighed. "I know I'm a scorpion, but according to Monster Musume lore, girtablilu are a subspecies of arachne, and spiders get drunk on caffeine."
“You have scented water? Yes? Good. A bottle for me, please,” said Navare.
The waiter nodded, scribbled the order on a piece of paper, and went back to the kitchen.
“It would not surprise me,” the Mage said, turning back to Kala. “I have heard of a species of drow for which chocolate is intoxicating. Amris could — no doubt — tell you of various species being intoxicated by a wide variety of substances.”
"I can guess. A lot of liminals from my world have traits of animals they resemble. The author does a lot of biology research for the manga, and it's very accurate. Did you know, for instance, that carnivores have less sensitive taste buds than humans, and herbivores more sensitive? The lamia character has no sense of taste, while the centaur goes into 'I can't stop eating' mode for carrots."
“Do I look like a biologist to you?” he asked, amused. “I’m a soldier. I know how to perforate Stus with magic bullets, not how different species taste things.” He looked at his partner, who was still communicating via its effector. “Amris could, probably, tell you a lot more about that despite lacking taste buds or, indeed, a mouth.”
“That said, you said you needed contacts?” Navare said, a serious expression on his face. “Both I and Amris pack quite a lot of firepower; in fact, we are going to be transferred to the Eclectic Subdivision of Advanced Species in a short while. If you two” — the mage shot Valon a look — “need help taking an over-powered Sue, drop us a call. We’re currently operating from RC 3^3.”
"Considering the Stu that Valon and I had to get rid of, help would be greatly appreciated. Apparently, he was a replacement of the main character from a game called Prototype. I got bored and dragged Valon here before I got too far in, but from what I understand, the main character is canonically a godplayer, and Valon said that he survived a nuke."
She waved her tail around as she recalled the Stu!Alex. "Granted, judging from what Valon said during the mission, we did make use of his weaknesses to get rid of him." She looked at Navare, obviously very angry. "You wanna know the worst part? The fic was a crossover, and the other continuum was my home."
It wasn't readily apparent, but Amris also readied itself.
“Survived a nuclear bomb? Nasty.” Navare rubbed his chin. “Next time, try to drop the Stu into a black hole. This guy sounds a little too much like the Sue—” he shuddered and stopped.
“The Sue from the fic you were rescued from, yes,” Amris piped up. “She survived an Arc-en-ciel to the face, no?”
The Drone’s aura fields turned red and it floated upwards a few centimetres. “You should be glad it is your home continuum, Kala Jeng. It makes the kill all the more satisfying.”
Kala's tail stopped moving. "Valon said that my home continuum is probably the only one where I don't need a disguise, which gives me full access to my normal abilities. It's common for liminals to be stronger than humans, but I also have a paralytic stinger. Not that it would have helped in our last mission, Valon said that the Stu wouldn't have been affected."
She turned her attention to Amris. "Have you ever been in a human disguise? If you have, is walking with two legs difficult? I'm used to having twelve limbs, so I don't know what to expect from being eight short."
“What it means to say is that no, it did not have to assume a humanoid disguise. We were only sent on one mission so far, and the distances involved made disguises irrelevant,” Navare added.
“I won’t have any problems with legs, even though it is such an inefficient method of locomotion. While I might be Value 1.0, it doesn’t mean I’m slow to adapt or anything.”