Subject: Yay, fun!
Author:
Posted on: 2013-08-26 14:45:00 UTC
Sigma rubbed her hands together excitedly. "Okay! Let's go catch us some virtual Klingons!" she said enthusiastically. "If we do fail, maybe they'll let us try again... but flying a decent ship."
Behind her, Cyba and Phi snorted. The twosome then spent the entire walk to the simulator debating the exact meaning of 'decent ship'.
On behalf of SeaTurtle, I have set this thread up over here.
In SeaTurtle's words:
"Following a freak scheduling accident caused by a length of rope, a plastic inflatable shark, and an impressionable group of trained circus monkeys, dozens of agent teams suddenly found themselves with nothing to do for an entire day. Some of them decide to visit the PPC city to see the sights, eat the food, meet some friends, relax, or just goof around.
Now go forth, chronicle your agents’ day off, and flesh out New Caledonia!"
"Okay," remarked Phi, "that was impressive." Her comment was directed at Taldaris and Fire Flash, regarding their swift dispatch of the Suvian entity, %.
Sigma and Cyba nodded their agreement, and all three gave their thanks.
"What I would like to know is how it came to be in New Caledonia," muttered Cyba to Phi. "Is it rogue, or is it the beginning of an invasion?"
"SSSHHH!" cried Phi. "Don't ruin our day off! Besides, you sound like Eagrus."
Both of them glanced at Sigma, expecting her to chime in at any moment, but she was busy passing Taldaris' message to the Yertis via her Exonet. Apparently the Exonet could function as a communications device when needed, which was fortunate given that none of them happened to be carrying a PPC phone.
"Think about it, though," continued Cyba. "How often do agents get days off? Not much, as I hear. What if the timetabling error was part of a Suvian plot to...?"
"No! That's enough, Cyba!" Phi cut her off. "How many times in PPC history has HQ been invaded relative to how many times an agent has gone crazy, hmm? Enough of this paranoia; you've been listening far to much to Eagrus! Why don't we all go and try out that Starfleet Bridge Simulator?"
It was at this moment that Sigma finished talking and looked up to see Tish. "Hello!" she called. "Who are you, and why are you sneaking?"
((That's okay. No matter how much Lonny likes being the center of attention, this thread has more important things to deal with by now. I'll just declare my last post before this thread was moved up here to be about ten seconds or so after your previous post. Potentially further, since I thought Sebak was with the group when he apparently isn't at this point. So, wait, then how is Sebak over at the archery range when there's simultaneously a Sebak sitting in the coffee shop behind the rest of the group? Unless... the coffee-shop Sebak's another body-copy of the % entity! Uh-oh. I'm glad the characters can't hear beyond these double-parentheses.))
On the northwest side of New Caledonia, a cemetery took up an unassuming patch of ground on a low hill. Those living around the hill tended to stay away from it, since for some reason, the presence of numerous tombstones tended to make most humanoid species nervous.
The Yertis had no such reservations. After briefly scanning the area for other minds, it moved to one of the uppermost sections of the hill, stopping next to an unassuming tombstone dedicated to Makes-Things, the famed co-founder of DoSAT. Those agents that have visited DoSAT within the past few years would likely be very confused by its presence, but in truth, the gravestone was only there as a location marker. Makes-Things's body had never been found, for what were in retrospect quite obvious reasons, and the gravestone's value as a memorial site was only a beneficial side effect to its intended function.
The Yertis felt around with its roots close to the base of the gravestone, quickly locating a pressure switch that, if one were judging solely by shape and position, was originally intended to be stepped on. However, as a being possessing no feet, the Yertis instead activated the switch by pressing down on either side with two of its nearest roots until the Flower detected a distant grinding sound. It moved back a few feet as a small section of ground shifted, the gravestone tilting back with it to reveal a passage under the hill. Contracting its branches to keep them from hitting the sides of the corridor, the Yertis descended, pushing another switch on its way down to close the passage behind it.
Even after the tunnels widened out, it kept its branches clustered inward until it reached the central communications room, alerting a few of the technicians monitoring various streams of information from a subspace messaging device. One of those technicians looked up as his Flower superior approached him, the Yertis's ambient telepathy radiating irritation and disapproval as it advanced.
There had better be an extremely good reason for interrupting me during inspection, the Yertis said firmly. The recent instability in Headquarters isn't going to last forever, and I've been given a prime opportunity to see how my officers respond to unusual problems, of which I do not relish wasting a second.
"Actually, sir, what I needed to report may be tied to the instability," the technician replied, turning his swivel chair to face the Flower. "We've had reports of a god-mode Suvian posing as an Agent."
The Deputy of the Department of Internal Affairs was suddenly paying its full attention. Where? What is it? How much damage has it done?
"As of the most recent report, it's only caused acid damage to a few meters of road in Soeur Jeanne Avenue and the nearby buildings. We knew it was god-mode mainly due to its vast power set, which included shapeshifting, self-duplication, and a few other potential high-class threats. I say potential because it claimed to have them, but it also claimed to be a terror of gods and a devourer of worlds, so I doubt we can take anything it says at face value."
Where is it now?
"It's already duplicated at least once, so it could have secondary and tertiary selves anywhere in the area, and right now, all I have to go on is the report from a vacationing DTE Agent on the scene and one of our patrolling officers that reported it as 'a big scary thing that just showed up out of nowhere'. There's good news, though. Two Officers managed to destroy its primary body."
What did they use?
"A black hole."
Ah.
"Pity it wasn't something a little more portable," quipped one of the other technicians sitting near the subspace receiver. "We can't send people out armed with black holes, because we'd do more damage than it's-"
Be quiet, Pearson.
"Sorry, sir."
The Yertis paced about the small amount of free space in the communications room for a moment before turning back to the first technician.
Put the patrol officers on alert. Logically, this thing should hang low after its primary body died in so cinematic a manner, but the day Suvians behave logically is the day the Weeds grow feet, so we should expect anything. I also need Carpenter protocol active. If this thing can shapeshift, we need to make sure it isn't impersonating one of our officers, or one of the Headquarters agents running around the city. If it sends a duplicate into HQ, next thing we know it'll be trying to replace de Sod.
Normally, I'd say I don't want to alarm people, but since this thing's already spooked one of the patrollers and sprayed acid on one of our streets, it's safe to say they're alarmed already, so I just want to make sure the intruder's contained. Run checks on everywhere it might have been, just in case. We don't want to miss anything that could grow a new Suvian.
Oh, and another thing: give me the names of the officers who took out its first body and tell them good job from me; they'll be on the fast track to promotion if they keep that up, and if they're not mine, I'll put in a good word with the Tiger Lily at our next department meeting.
The Yertis shook its berries in satisfaction. That felt good. It's been a while since I had to give that many instructions. It looked down at the technician, who was still staring at the Flower as if anticipating him to speak again. What are you waiting for? I'm done. Get the orders moving.
Nodding, the technician turned back to the communication array, preparing to transmit as the Yertis moved back toward the cemetery entrance.
If I can position myself correctly, it said to itself as it ascended the stairs leading back outside, I might be able to pull off that inspection after all.
((I know, I make the bluntest names for protocols ever. Bluh. Anyway, I thought that we should see the reactions from the New Caledonia DIA to the problem of %, since the combination of Sigma's exonet message and an enormous monster made of snakes, eyes, and grasping appendages would likely get their attention, and thus, this scene was born. I hope it works.
If anyone wants to give a name and species to the unnamed New Caledonia DIA patroller or the unnamed New Caledonia DIA technician, feel free to do so. I deliberately left them without either in case people would want to. Just don't make it anything too silly.))
While running across the plaza towards New Caledonia's downtown area, the DIA duo was accosted by a Dersite and his clockwork partner. The officers skid to a halt as the little black figure darted to and fro between Fire Flash and Taldaris.
As the carapacian babbled excitedly, the protoss glanced at his partner, who was grinning from ear to ear.
"Looks like you've got an admirer," said Fire Flash. "You know what? I'll leave you to it. You came here to have a day off, right? Enjoy it! The Yertis probably kicked off the carpenter protocol already, so this whole schtick should be done in a couple of hours. You look like you're pretty tuckered out psi-wise anyways, so there's no point in overexerting yourself. Don't come back too late, wash that cloak before you drag it all over the RC, and make sure Cloudsweeper brushes her teeth before going to bed. Be good!"
"Hold it. How can you believe that we can safely contain the % entity without psionic support or..." began Taldaris, but his partner was already gone. The protoss stood there awkwardly for a moment before turning his attention back to Lonny the Dersite.
"Erm. Yes, your question about my weapon. I require my forearm gauntlet to channel my psi into blades. I have not yet achieved the proper control or discipline to produce a cutting edge without mechanical assistance..." said Taldaris.
The High Templar continued to answer Lonny's questions one at the time, all the while keeping an eye out for the possible reappearance of %.
- - -
Gaspard squinted down the shaft of a blunted practice arrow, trying to align the top with the centre of the mannequin's chest. Following Sebak's previous observations and suggestions, he slowly drew back the bow until the string nearly touched his nose. The Spy slowly adjusted his firing angle upwards to compensate for arrow drop and a fraction to the right to counter the slight breeze that had just picked up.
He was just about to let fly when there was a loud roaring sound behind him. Gaspard's aim was thrown off and he let go of the string, causing the projectile to sail a metre above the target. The racket continued for a few more minutes, then stopped as suddenly as it began.
"What on Earth was that?" asked Gaspard.
The question was answered when a woman waving her cell phone ran up behind the firing line, shouting: "You guys just missed an epic fight! Come 'round, I got it all on video!"
...she realized she'd been spotted by one of the Borg triplets. Part of her was going "BORG! BORG! RUN AS FAST AS YOU CAN AND HOPE THEY DON'T ASSIMILATE YOU!", another part was saying "Hey, these are from a continua I know, I can handle them", and another part was trying desperately to reconcile the two. She blinked.
"Well, I certainly wasn't going to get in the middle of a fight, because I don't carry weapons when we're supposed to be having vacation!" she said. "Also I wanted to get into the Trekverse park. Do you know what's in there?"
---
Sebak raised his eyebrows at the woman, but his curiosity won out and he walked up to her to look at the computer screen.
"Interesting," he said.
Sigma folded her arms and sighed. She knew that look anywhere.
"No, we're not going to assimilate you," she said, then promptly facepalmed. The Ironic Overpower had a very bad (or possibly very good) sense of timing. Concentrating on reverting the Borg voice to her normal one, she repeated herself and made sure to apologise:
"No, we're not going to assimilate you. Sorry."
Then she realised how awkward that wording had sounded. The IO was clearly conspiring against her.
"I mean to say... oh, never mind," she gave up. "There's at least a roller coaster and the Starfleet Bridge Simulator in there. We haven't explored any further because that Suvian accosted us. We were about to try out the Simulator and go from there, and after the Trekverse section we were going to try out the Quidditch Broom Flying Experience over in the Potterverse area... Hey, fancy joining us as we fail at the Kobayashi Maru?"
"Sure," she said. "But I'm not sure we'll fail. I always keep thinking there's something Starfleet cadets don't take into account. You know, maybe since we're not from..." She was about to say "not from Trekverse", but caught herself. "I mean, since we're not Starfleet cadets, we'll look at it differently!"
Sigma rubbed her hands together excitedly. "Okay! Let's go catch us some virtual Klingons!" she said enthusiastically. "If we do fail, maybe they'll let us try again... but flying a decent ship."
Behind her, Cyba and Phi snorted. The twosome then spent the entire walk to the simulator debating the exact meaning of 'decent ship'.
Tish really didn't have anything to say about what was a decent ship, unless it was the romantic kind. Then she had some strong opinions. Still, it was interesting to listen to two Borg that didn't really act like Borg discuss it.
"Do you want to go first?" Tish asked, directing the question at all three. "I've never piloted a ship before and I'd like to see how you do it first."
"We should probably all work together. We've not exactly had that much experience ourselves - except Sigma here." She waved a hand toward her companion with a blue eye-laser.
"I've got an idea," piped up Phi. "I'll take science, Sigma can take engineering, and I guess that leaves Cyba with tactical. You evidently know about Star Trek," she said to Tish, "so you can be captain. Tell us what to do, and we'll do the flying!"
"I still want to try it in a Borg cube," muttered Sigma.
Is permission required for this. It is a RP, but it is also worldbuilding.
Day-offs were a rare occurrence for the many agents of the PPC. In fact, there were many who had never been fortunate enough to take a day-off; Joseph and Andrew were in this group of unfortunates, which was why they had instantly pounced on the opportunity to get some sunshine the very moment the scheduling accident had occurred.
"I like this coffee shop," said Andrew happily, leaning back into his chair with a content sigh. "Their stuff is brilliant."
Joseph nodded. "It is of better quality than what we usually consume."
The duo had immediately made a break for the coffee shop upon leaving the headquarters, and had been sitting within the shop for hours, basking in the aroma and enjoying the rich flavour of their drinks. It had been a long time since they had drank anything that wasn't instant coffee, and they wanted to savour the drinks for as long as possible.
"Man, I wish we could have a door to our RC from here," continued Andrew, who paused and quickly turned to the waiter nearby, handing over a tip. "Ton café est délicieux. Je le adore."
As the waiter left, the red-headed agent turned back to see his partner watching his face with a rather curious expression.
"Is there something wrong?" he asked.
"Je l'adore."
Andrew blinked in confusion, before letting out a quiet chuckle. "Heh, forgot about that. Man, the thing I get wrong in French is something really obvious."
"You usually make obvious mistakes," replied Joseph, the dark-haired agent lifting up his mug to his lips."
Peaceful silence followed, only regularly broken by Andrew's content sighs. The two agents were not too interested in talking, preferring to enjoy their drinks to the best of their ability, an act that the atmosphere of the cafe seemed to promote.
The wooden tables and chairs, open windows and natural lighting ... it all added to the cosy feeling.
"Hey Joseph, could you note the address in case we need to find this place again?" asked Andrew, interrupting the silence.
Joseph nodded, pulling out his notebook and jotting down the location of the cafe: 21 Avenue Soeur Jeanne.
With this interruption out of the way, their peaceful day continued, hopefully without coming across any problems that would befall them.
...
Who are we kidding?
I'm thinking about participating, but the last RP I dipped my toes into went spectacularly off the rails, and I'm not keen for a repeat experience. Plus, at least one person I'm aware of who might be interested has never RPed before. For all our sakes, please lay out some guidelines for how this is to proceed. {= )
~Neshomeh, who prefers her RPs heavy on cooperative character interaction, light on random shenanigans and aimless mischief.
Add a nice dash of character interaction, exploration of the little corners of New Caledonia, and a bit of the aforementioned random shenanigans and you're all set.
Canon-wise, I'd like to have this RP lean towards the more canonical. People who don't have Permission are free to join, but should at least observe the fact that this might enter PPC canon. This means not placing crazy things like doomsday devices, giant monsters, or mimes in New Cal. This is World One, after all.
I was a bit disappointed in how that one turned out, actually. Since nobody was quite sure who could do what in the RP's storyline, everyone just sort of left it. It could have been a lot of fun, but it never really got off the ground. I had to introduce hordes of triangle monsters in out of left field just to try and get it working, and still not much happened.
By the way, would I be able to participate with an agent team if I don't have Permission, or will I only be able to work with New Caledonia NPCs, like citizens and Flowers and the like? I'm trying to brainstorm character directions, and that information would be helpful.
Actually, if I don't have Permission, would I be even able to create NPCs for this? The only current New Caledonia NPCs are: a few shopkeepers that are all the property of their individual creators; Monty, Tod, and Deirdre(Deirde?), who are all birds judging by this story, and so may not be able to speak human languages; and the Yertis. That's a small pool to work with. The Yertis could be fun, though. He hasn't really been developed at all, so there'd be a lot of room to move about in his character, and there'd be a direction to move him in as well, with all of the other-dimensional travelers coming in and, knowing PPC Agents, making a mess of his territory.
Permission is not required for RPs, since their canonicity is considered dubious by default. Plus, RP is a great way to develop new characters, so we don't want to deny people the opportunity to do so pre-Permission. However, if the RP's creator (in this case, SeaTurtle) wants to have a strictly canonical, Permission-only kind of RP, they can do that. We'll have to wait and see what SeaTurtle says about it.
I think established NPCs are off-limits either way, though, since developing them would constitute adding to PPC canon. That's just my instinct, though; I'm not sure how that's been handled historically.
Yeah, the treasure hunt RP was unfortunate. I actually would have had to drop out in any case, since I had a meeting that weekend, but I'd hoped things would happen before I left, and I could've written my characters a graceful exit, perhaps to make a glorious comeback later. Somebody (preferably the person who started the game) really has to take charge and run things in a an event-driven situation like that, or we get exactly what we got: everyone has a different idea about what should be happening, and therefore nothing does. Rails are good!
~Neshomeh
SeaTurtle is the one who started this, so I leave it to him to state the rules properly, as he would know better. However, as far as I know, our agents get a day off and wander about New Caledonia (the PPC city in World One). SeaTurtle's idea was to flesh out the location, because it could conceivably be almost as important as HQ and is underdeveloped.
So, in short, wander about, have fun, no godplaying and presumably nothing too silly (but this is the PPC, so some silly I'm guessing is allowed and encouraged).
"A day off? A day off!" cried Eagrus when Cyba brought him the news. It was such unusual and such good news that he momentarily ignored the fact Cyba had also brought Sigma and Phi along to the RC door.
"No joke," Phi chimed in. "Some kind of bizarre scheduling accident, apparently. Oh, sorry, Joke!" she added quickly, when the mini-Colossus bleeped indignantly at her.
Eagrus sat down loudly, stunned. This was not something that had happened - well - ever, in his experience. "Come!" he said. "We should make the most of this, and I know just the place!"
The door was easy enough to find, given that Eagrus knew how to distract himself, and the other three had no idea where he was leading them anyway. It looked ordinary enough, but when they stepped through, it became immediately apparent that they were no longer in HQ.
The four of them found themselves in the hall of a building, which housed 'doors' to the PPC General Store and various OFU Staff Sections as well as to HQ. The only other door led out onto a street lit by blazing sunshine.
"Where are we?" asked Cyba when they stepped out, squinting until her eyes adapted to the bright sunlight.
"Welcome," announced Eagrus, "to the PPC city of New Caledonia!"
"Is this... World One?" inquired Phi.
"Indeed it is!" Eagrus told the happily. "It's not exactly Middle Earth, but I've heard it is quite a nice place nonetheless."
"What about disguises?" wondered Phi aloud, noticing that she, Sigma and Cyba were still plated in black metal (Sigma appeared to have polished hers), and Eagrus was in his Easterling armour.
"It's a PPC city," Eagrus answered. "I believe we can walk freely here, undisguised."
Sigma, meanwhile, who had said nothing until now, suddenly crowed from by the map she had discovered across the street. The others turned, startled, and unable to quite make what she had said, and Eagrus ducked into the doorway behind him in case of attack.
"WOOT! They have a THEME PARK here!" crowed Sigma again, slightly more discernably this time.
Eagrus breathed a sigh of relief that there was no attack going on, but face-helmeted all the same. "I'm for finding somewhere to get my hair shaved," he said finally. "There's no way I am going anywhere near a theme park with any of you three ever again, and most especially not any roller-coasters!"
"It's multiversally themed!" protested Sigma, and Cyba and Phi joined her by the map board eagerly.
"Ooooh!" squawked Cyba, noticing something else. "There's a shopping district! I wonder if they have an armour shop..."
Eagrus groaned audibly, and Phi thought she caught a quite mutter of 'Women!'.
"They might have a sword shop," Phi pointed out, making Eagrus perk up immediately. "I mean, probably only replicas, given this is World One, but..."
"Alright," Eagrus relented. "I will consent to come and visit this shopping district with you, but then I am going to get a haircut!"
"And we shall go on roller coasters all day!" proclaimed Sigma, getting cheers from Cyba and Phi.
Eagrus smiled beneath his helmet. If they were off on roller-coasters, then he might just get a holiday from the Collective of Three...
Agent % stared solemly at his console screen. It had alerted (gender neuter) of some unforseen free time. % disliked free time, and also disliked the cheery notice telling him to socialize. Regardless of %'s prefrences, his daily report was still advising him to interact with corpreal beings he shared a workplace with. % took a moment to steady (gender neuter)self as well as a seventh dimensional disembodied intellegence can. Then he went through the complicated process of acumulating matter to form a body.
The end result appeared to be a tall, lanky humanoid with grey skin, blank blue eyes, and slit nostrils. Now having formed a body, % was headed for the grey door of his RC before it remembered three important things. One, it needed a mouth. % rearranged his tissues to form the missing orifice, and added sharp fangs in afterthought. Two, it needed a gender so its fellow agents would have something to apply pronouns to. After a few minutes of tricky biological addition, he strode towards the door. With one hand on the knob, % stopped to look into the murky gloom of his room. Switching his vision to ultraviolet, he remembered what forgotten. Clothes. % ran over to his small closet, and chose the least complicated clothes from his hangers.
Clad in jeans and a leather jacket, % stepped out of his RC, and into the hall of headquarters. A few days ago, he wouldn't have been doing this alone. However, his partner would be in medical until the pon farr wore off. % looked around at the other agents stepping out of RC units, and noticed the all had one thing in common that he was missing. % was bald. However, by the time he was at the door to world one, agent % had a erect mane of purple bristles atop his head. Stopping in front of the door, % took a deep breath before turning the knob. New Caledonia was the largest city he'd been to, and evidently the loudest. % was about to find a map stand, but stopped when the smell of cooking pheasant whipped into his nostrils. %'s stomach growled, reminding him he'd choosen a carnivore's digestive tract. % had never injested food before, but his blood sugar was low and accompanied with a large wallet. He set off at a dead run, following the burning meat scent to its source.
Compared to the Generic Grey hallways of HQ, the PPC City of New Caledonia was like a resort town: it had sunshine, fresh air, food that didn’t come to life and cause an Emergency, sunshine, places to sit, greenery, and sunshine. Due to their shift-based schedule, Infrastructure Department agents accounted for most of the city’s visitors, but today was an exception. Floaters, Assassins, Bad Slashers, and even some Untanglers had discovered the city and were currently milling about, taking in the sights. And the sunshine.
The general architectural style was reminiscent of an old European city: tall and narrow buildings with brick facades placed close to one another, cobblestone streets lined with trees, and the odd open plaza complete with statues of famous Agents or fountains.
Along the street known as the Rue Des Fleurs walked a yellow Earth pony mare wearing a set of black armour and a rather nondescript black-clad young man with a blue bowtie. They weaved through the crowds in silence, slowly making their way westward. The duo crossed the restaurant district, which was practically overflowing with people trying to find someplace to eat lunch. Agents streamed in and out of restaurants, argued with their friends about where they should eat, or rested on the benches that lined the street.
The two agents eventually reached a park with a pond at the outskirts of the city, where the paved road turned to a beaten earth path. They walked around the pond until it was between them and the trail then stopped under the shade of a tree that leaned over the water. The pony reached into her saddlebags, pulled out a paper bag using her teeth and offered it to her human companion. The man reached inside and tossed a handful of grains into the water. The seeds had barely touched the surface of the water before a swarm of ducks converged noisily on the spot, nipping at the food. The man continued feeding the birds for the better part of a minute before crumpling up the bag and placing it back inside the pony’s saddlebags. After looking around to make sure he and his friend were truly alone, the man broke the silence.
“It was a good idea to go for a walk, Fire Flash. Thank you.”
The mare brushed a lock of her red-and-orange mane out of her eyes with a foreleg. “Nothing to it, Gaspard. You looked like you needed some fresh air anyways; I’m not sure if you noticed, but you’ve lost some weight in the past few weeks. I think you’re overdoing it with that plan of yours.”
“Oh, that,” said Gaspard, looking down at his shoes. “No, no. It’s fine.”
“No, it isn’t,” said Fire Flash firmly. “You’re running yourself ragged. Besides, how do you know this isn’t some sort of elaborate prank? Some parts of the story seem a really far-fetched to me.”
“You’re forgetting who sent it,” said Gaspard. “He would never joke about that.”
The cartoon pony made a sound halfway through a snort and a sigh. “Right. Still doesn’t rule out the fact that this could all be the product of a delusional mind. ‘Cause were talking about a guy that was perfectly willing to go through with the Cafeteria Ma—“
“I know,” interrupted Gaspard. “But he’s definitely sane. He couldn’t have recorded everything in great detail, given it to his friends, and then given it to me without somebody noticing he had gone mad.”
Fire Flash rolled her eyes. “Yeah, right. He was mad since the beginning. I mean, how could he have lived with himself after the incident?”
Gaspard shook his head. “He couldn’t. He neuralyzed himself immediately after the battle but later found out that the memory was more… persistent than he thought.”
Silence fell between the agents as they watched the birds battle over the last few seeds in the water.
“I still think this is completely insane, but thanks for talking to us about this,” said Fire Flash once the birds had settled. “We’ll help. Maybe this time it will turn out differently.”
“Yes, ma’am, that’s the plan. If we can convince Agent Terabyte to shift towards a more tech-oriented role, we have a chance to go into a full-blown power play with the DIA on our side,” said Gaspard with a smile. “We could end the war within a matter of weeks.”
“Glad to hear it. Oh, and keep that positive attitude, will you? It’s better than that moping routine that you’ve been doing.” Fire Flash craned her neck towards the city. “Wanna head back? I think Taldaris and Cloudsweeper went to the theme park. You could do with a little R&R.”
“Lead on, ma’am.”
“Stop calling me that.”
“Yes, miss.”
“Stop.”
((Let's try to keep things in a single chain to maintain chronological order of posts.))
A little blonde five-year old girl strolled alone into the coffee shop on 21 Avenue Soeur Jeanne. She took a seat at an empty table and spent a couple of minutes kicking her feet in midair before hopping back down and wandering aimlessly in the café. She eventually grew tired of the activity and stopped at the table where Agents Andrew and Joseph were seated.
"Hi, my name is Sophie!" she squeaked as she peeked over the table's edge. "My Daddy got lost. Can you find him, please? We were supposed to go to the merry-go-round but he stopped to go and look inna shop an' I got bored so I went alone an' then they wouldn't let me go alone on the merry-go-round so I went to the mew-say over there but it was really boring an' then I went looking for Daddy but he got lost. Can you help me look for him?"
((Understood.))
Joseph placed his mug back onto the table surface, shooting his partner a quick, somewhat bemused, glance, before turning to face the little girl who barely reached the table's height. It was not everyday that someone asked him and Andrew to help them find somebody - usually any requests for assistance involved acting as backup for any bad-fics that required more than one agent pair. However, even if such a thing was new to them, he would not decline her request. It would be impolite to do so.
"Very well," he said, giving the girl a polite nod. "We shall provide you assistance."
"He means that we'll be happy to help," added Andrew, the red-headed agent assuming that Sophie would probably not understand the word 'assistance'. He didn't when he was young. "What does your dad look like?"
He discreetly gave his stoic partner a thumbs-up, indicating that he would handle the situation from then on. His partner was not much of a talker, so it would be better for him to deal with the seemingly talkative child. He didn't know if he could handle the strain of seeing Joe speak for longer than two minutes, not even if with the help of all the coffee he had consumed in the last few hours.
"Great!" the girl beamed. "Okay. So my daddy is about this tall..."
She jumped with her right arm stretched upwards, trying to give the two agents an idea of her father's height. She didn't quite manage to reach the desired height the first time so she jumped again. And again.
And again.
After a few unsuccessful tries at jumping at dad-height, she spread her arms wide. "Never mind. He's also big like this. But shhhhhh... don't say it to anyone," she added in a whisper. "He doesn't like it when other people say he's big. Even if he walks like this all the time." She paraded in front of Joseph and Andrew with her stomach puffed out and taking heavy steps. When she settled down she cupped her chin with a hand, apparently deep in thought.
"Um... oh! He's got blond hair like me and his name is Angus. He's a secret agent! He works for a nice rose-lady."
Sophie grabbed Andrew by the finger and started moving towards the café's exit. "Can we go now? Daddy gets nervous when he's all alone."
A portal opened near the ceiling of the restaurant. This itself was not an unusual event, as portals opened in New Caledonia quite often. The agent(concepts) that fell through it, however, were not.
The pile of Agents, guns, and assorted melée weapons lying in the corner spoke.
"This is not our RC. I told you, we need to get DoSAT to fix it, but no, malfunctions give character to the equipment."
The agents stood up. "Oh! Hello!" the first Agent spoke. "I'm Agent Natalie Smith, DMS. This is my partner, Kyle. Sorry about the arrival."
Agent % was starting to appreciate human architechture. The narrow store fronts melded with seemingly random gothic spires, while clashing with abstract art. The chaos reminded him of his seventh dimensional home, where physics behaved like they had partaken in large qualities of alchohal.
He passed several thing in his pursuit of the baking bird, including but not limeted to; a theme park, seventeen assorted museums, four pyrotechnic displays, and big bird. As the grey hominid rounded a corner, and leaped over a improperly parked ballista near town hall. Of to the side was a grey coffee shop, the kind one typically associates soft yellow lights, and smooth jazz with. Its tinted widows allowed a dim glow into the street, while a stream of customers opened doors, letting a rich legume derived smell waft into %'s nostrils. He loped over to the door, and cautiously stepped in.
Agent %'s first experience in a coffee shop was pleasant. His multi-leveled mind took in the rich aroma of food, and drink. He marveled at the soft blue walls soothed the eye, and how rich velvet carpet tickled his bare feet. The overall effect of this subtle art on an alien mind was similar to how a blind person may marvel at a colorful sculpture. They can percieve specific aspects of it, but still lack its full intended meaning. % noticed a few pairs of agents talking to a young girl. Well, he assumed they were agents, as the electrical activity of their brains had the unique pattern a being forms to cope with headquarter's strange layout. % realized he'd used more energy to grow an organ for reading minds, thus increasing his metabolic need further. He swiftly metabolized the lump of tissue, and began walking towards the agents.
At first, % reached out with a tenderil of his conciousness in order to communicate with the humans, but then remembered that verbalizing his questions would be less perturbing to his colleauges. % took in a deep breath, and exhaled. He repeated this, but now moving his tongue to push words out from between recurved fangs. "Ezzzcuzzze me, bu' can zomeboody tell mee vhere tooo ordzer?" He stopped, the effort of speaking had tired him out. The grey humanoid plopped down in a chair, started unzipping his leather jacket. % hadn't realized being an endotherm would lead to increased energy needs, but even now he could feel his constructed body dying with no food to sustain it.
Looking up, % squinted his pale blue eyes. "Zomebody needzz to invezzzt in zzzpell check..." he murmered
Andrew gave the young girl a grin. He would definitely do his best to help her find her dad. After all, it wouldn't be polite to leave her father scared and alone. The little girl was probably the responsible one in the family, and it was his duty to make sure that his fellow agent, even if he didn't know said agent well, had someone responsible to act as a bastion of sanity in this crazed world.
"Sure," he began. "We can go right no-"
His words trailed away, the red-headed agent having seen the grey being that had just asked him and his partner on where one could order a coffee. At least, that was what he assumed - it was a bit difficult understanding the other being with all the Z's.
"Uh, go talk to the girl at the counter," said Andrew awkwardly. It had taken a few seconds, but he had recognised the other being as a fellow Agent, although not one that he regularly socialised with. "Do you have money on you for something though?"
While Andrew attempted to instruct the newcomer, Joseph gave Sophie a glance and a shrug. Weird things always happened to them - it was a trait that most agents shared. He was used to it though; all of the PPC's weirdness had pretty much become just another part of his daily life.
Although the agents falling out of the ceiling was new.
“Hey, Anebrin, lookit this,” Des said over his shoulder. He was standing near RC log e's console, while his partner was sitting near the RC's old table, sharpening his talking sword. Said elf took his time, but in a few moments joined Des near the console.
“A free day?” he asked, incredulously. “I thought that the PPC was dangerously understaffed?”
“No kidding,” Des answered. He peered closer at the message from Personnel. “A length of rope, a plastic inflatable shark, and an impressionable group of trained circus monkeys? And I thought the fact that someone managed to create a Teletubbies mini was weird...”
“Still, we should use this oddity,” Anebrin said. “I miss the sunlight, and I have an idea where to go.”
“St. Stephan's green in a sunny day?” asked Des hopefully.
Anebrin, however, shook his head. “I have no idea where that is. No, that is not quite what I had in mind. I have heard tell that the PPC has built, or leased, or came across, a city in the World One territory of New Caledonia.”
Des made his 'mouth as a diagonal line' expression, whose meaning, Anebrin learned a while back, was that the Israeli teenager was half-annoyed, half-perplexed. “New Caledonia...? French. Augh, hate that language. It gives me headaches.” He paused, rubbing his goatee. “Still, I guess it couldn't hurt.”
And so the duo left their RC, distracting one another with a conversation about music (“How can you like Magia? The yells at the start are quite horrid!” “Easily enough; I'm used to them, and the rest of the song is awesome. Also, it's Madoka stuff.”) until they have reached the door. While Des examined the door in a fit of curiosity (he found the tiny runes etched on one corner quite similar fuxark runes) his partner went through the door and waited, blinking in the sudden sunlight, for him to finish poring over the door.
After some time, Des finally left the door in peace and joined Anebrin at the other side. He took a deep breath. “Ah, the great outdoors,” he said, a stupid smile plastered on his face. Anebrin nodded, taking a huge breath.
“I sang of leaves, of leaves of gold, and leaves of gold there grew,” said a voice from Anebrin's general direction. Des turned and saw the elf hitting the scabbard of his sword.
“You haven't said that, have you now, Anebrin?” he asked.
“Of course not. It is my sword,” came the reply. The elf drew the sword and presented it, hilt-first, to Des. The boy took the sword and inspected it. Nothing seemed out of ordinary to him.
“Where is the horse and the rider? Where is the horn that was blowing?” came a voice from the sword, and the startled Des dropped it, nearly puncturing his foot.
“I see what you mean,” he said, clearly surprised. Anebrin picked the sword up and sheathed it.
“That aside...” the elf said, “I think I know a good place to sit in.”
So Des followed Anebrin around, staring at the various people on the streets and distracting Anebrin with his prattle (“Hey! Isn't that a Game Theory!Nanohaverse Kabupatenic mage?” “I have no idea.”) until they've reached a coffee shop.
“Aw, coffee?” the disappointed Des asked.
“You do not have to drink it,” Anebrin replied, “and their cakes are rather good.”
They entered the shop, ordered some pie, and found themselves a table.
Sebak decided that he liked New Caledonia. It didn't have quite the comfortable, dry heat of Vulcan, but its sunshine and light breeze were significant improvements over the cold, stale air of HQ. Sebak felt he could have a pleasant time.
What was not as pleasant, however, was his partner.
"Sebak! There's a theme park here!" Tish exclaimed, pointing. "Come on, let's go!"
"I have heard of a museum that sounds most interesting. It contains lost works from many continua."
"Boring," Tish said. "The theme park has rides from many continua! You could never go to a park like this in World One. Or, I mean, in the non-PPC part of World One."
"I highly doubt you could find many of the works contained in the Musée des Univers Perdus in World One libraries," Sebak countered.
"Yeah, but rides are more fun!" Tish said. "And Vulcan or not Vulcan, you need to learn to have fun!" She tugged on his hand.
"Musuems are 'fun'," Sebak said, pulling away quickly. Touch telepathy with such an emotional human was...unpleasant. "Have you ever considered that perhaps you need to learn to have fun in different ways?"
She sighed audibly. "Fine. If you go on some rides, I'll go to the museum with you."
Sebak nodded. "That would be an acceptable compromise."
"Yay!" Tish exclaimed. "Come on!"
She took off running towards the theme park, and Sebak followed, ever so slightly rolling his eyes.
Sophie, completely unfazed by the man who went "zzz" and the falling agents, rolled her eyes in the most exaggerated way possible and crossed her arms.
"I don't have all day!" she huffed. When Joseph gave her a nonplussed stare, she stuffed her hands in her pockets and looked at the floor. "Okay, maybe I can wait a little. Is the zee-man all right?"
- - -
At the theme park, Fire Flash and Gaspard sat on a bench, observing various agents come and go between attractions.
"So, any ride you want to try out in particular?" asked Fire Flash. "I hear that the Starfleet Bridge Simulator is a good one. You can even try to take on that doomed test scenario."
The Spy shrugged. "I just feel like sitting here and doing nothing, if that's all right with you, ma'am."
The DIA agent rolled her eyes at the formality and slid off the bench, landing on her hooves. "No, that ain't gonna fly with me. Come on, you look like that statue over there that's all serious and stuff. Loosen up."
"No, no. I'm fine, ma'am."
"Ah, ponyfeathers. You came here to have fun, not to sit around!"
"Fine," sighed Gaspard. "There's always the range over there. I can always try my hand at archery again."
"You do that," said Fire Flash. "I'll be off: I gotta find Taldaris. He's been calling me for over ten minutes now," she said, rubbing her forehead. "What was Upstairs thinking, assigning me that big psychic lunkhead? I swear, the migraines that I get..."
As the pony trotted off towards the park's central plaza, Gaspard made his way to the target range, wondering if letting a few arrows fly would take his mind off things. He was so preoccupied he bumped headfirst into an ESAS team composed of a Vulcan man and a human woman.
"Oh, sorry! I was just going over there to..." the Spy's voice trailed off as the agents stood there looking at him. "Er, never mind, sorry..."
... Cyba, Sigma and Phi came around the corner from the direction of the Trekverse themed area of the Theme Park. From listening to the talking, three things were apparent:
1) There was apparently a roller coaster through a replica Borg Cube.
2) They had just been on said roller coaster.
3) They were now very hyper.
They were also not looking where they were going, and walked right into Fire Flash as she headed for the Starfleet Bridge Simulator.
% was getting as close to enjoying himself as a being without the necessary glands can. He was currently walking around some trekverse themepark, holding a cup of ammonia cocktail laced with coffee beans. His leather jacket was missing, having melted an hour earlier in a coffee shop. % was headed towards the starfleet bridge simulator when several things happened.
1) The laws of narrative comedy caused him to trip. Normaly, this would cause humorous coffee splatters. However, it is significantly less funny when the coffee in question is lethal to organic life.
2) Said coffee had created a pretty lightshow in his frontal lobes, making it hard to make sure he wouldn't hit somebody.
3) %'s mind was so muddled he forgot that he could bodily purge the offending chemicals from his ammonia based bloodstream.
... that the ammonia coffee did not hit anything organic. Well, nothing fully organic, anyway...
Cyba, Sigma and Phi were just picking themselves up from having tripped over Fire Flash - with hurried apologies - when the ammonia coffee hit them. It was Sigma who got the brunt of it, because Phi was shielded by her cloak (which was promptly ruined but provided an excuse for shopping later) and Cyba by her coat (which was not ruined because it had once belonged to a Stu and was evidently more resilient).
Sigma was damaged by the ammonia, but her body immediately went into a repair cycle and quickly fixed the problem. Agent %, however, was now faced with three less-than-amused Borg...
"It's okay!" the human woman said cheerfully. "I'm Tish, this is Sebak -" The Vulcan nodded "- who are you?"
((Sorry it took so long. The charge cord for my laptop died.))
Fire Flash got up on shaky legs, her head still reeling from the three Borg women tripping over her. She had barely got her breath back as a... thing tripped and spilt coffee all over the Borg with a blue eye-laser. As the three cyborgs towered over the downed agent, Fire Flash scooted towards the confrontation.
"Hey. You there... whoa," she said, nearly falling over. "Firstly, why does that liquid sizzle? Secondly, erp!"
A protoss agent bent down, picked the DIA agent by her armour's saddle, and plonked a roman-style helmet on her head.
"Regulations, Fire Flash," said the alien telepathically, holding her at his eye level. "Head protection is part of your chosen uniform, is it not? Even while off-duty, a DIA officer must be prepared to respond to any situation that might come up. Speaking of which, what has happened here?" he asked the agents in front of him.
The Earth pony wiggled her legs in mid-air. "Taldaris. Down. Now."
"My apologies," said Taldaris as he set his partner down. He turned to face Sigma, who was in the middle of auto-repairs. "Fascinating. Bio-mechanical engineering. Do you require medial attention?"
Meanwhile, Fire Flash had slowly scooted over to Agent %, who was still lying on the floor and looking pretty out of it. "What's with that drink, mister? We don't go around toting caustic materials here in the PPC!"
- - -
Gaspard gave Tish a sheepish smile. "Ah... sorry again. Gaspard De Grasse, Spy Thirteenth class, at you service. You are part of ESAS, correct?" he said, gesturing at their flash patches.
In the junior agent's mind, memories were getting jumbled. There was a Vulcan involved at the Nursery then. Was this him? Should he intervene? Hang on, what was his name again? Sebak. Right. No, couldn't be him, could it? Oh, this was embarrassing, this was important and he couldn't even remember names...
Agent % squinted at the three borg. They seemed to be showing displeasure at his spill. He looked down to see the hole his drink was eating into the cement, and mentaly checked his alchohal blood levels. To high for his health. "Thizzz bodyzzz a mezzz." He remarked, and started prepping himself for mass conversion. His bony grey frame creaked dangerously, while the purple bristles atop his head started vibrating. "You might want to ztep back."
Then the being known as % exploded. Large chunks of silicon based flesh flew in all directions, while caustic body fluids sizzled when they hit pavement. It looked like an industrial accident. Then, rather unceremoniously, chunks of flesh started crawling back together. Bone grew, and became coated in flesh. Scaly grey hide covered black muscle, and purple quills elongated. The end result was a creature that looked like a cross between an iguanna, and a horse. Its mane and tail were composed of quills, and the hooves were rather strange.
% found his new body less taxing than before. Several new nerve swellings acted as secondary brains, reducing the strain on his main intellect. Food may be a problem, as plant matter had never been %'s favorite substance to ingest. He resorted to his typical method of tacking curved fangs onto bodies. He finally remembered something had been talking to him. Turning to the pony, now eye level, he spoke. "That wazzz a double zot ammonia exzprezzo. I've alwayz had an affinity for creating zilicon bazed bodiezz to interact with phizzzical beingz. But thizz iz not my native formz." He paused, and concentrated on the bits of of himself that had not reassimilated. With some effort, he fashioned them into a grey snake. After painfully stringing his mind between two bodies, he sent the "snake" off on its way. He could now be able to participate in two coversations in two places. Socialization, just what the doctor ordered.
... but between the sudden transformation of Agent %, and telepathisation from Agent Taldaris, what actually came out was more of a startled squawk. The organic parts of her face cycled through panic at hearing a voice in her head, followed by the processing of what the voice had actually said, and lastly the realisation that it probably wasn't the Collective after all.
"Er... I think... I'm fine," she eventually managed to say once she had recovered enough.
Gaspard gave a half-grin to Sebak. "Intel isn't all that glamorous, sir. It's mostly just a bunch of new recruits, old or physically impaired agents, or Floater overflow that just sit at desks and read. We're not anything exceptional."
To Tish, the Spy said: "Er, I was on my way to the weapons range to practice my archery skills. You're free to come and watch... um, if you want to, that is. I'm afraid I'm a rather poor shot with the bow: I can actually do better with a rifle the size of an electric keyboard. Long story."
- - -
Taldaris' clawed fingertips crackled with blue psi-energy bolts as he slowly brought his hands down. The psychic bubble he had cast over his partner and the Borg triplets had barely survived Agent %'s caustic explosion and his light power suit's plasma shields had also taken a beating. Once again, his sweeping black cloak hadn't survived the excitement, seeing as it was now full of holes and smoking. Gods damn it, thought Taldaris. This always happens to me.
Releasing the last of the psychic energy, the protoss High Templar drew himself up to his full height as he strode towards %'s latest form.
"I demand to know what you are," said the DIA officer as he planted himself directly in front of %. "Your regenerative stunts are not only disturbing to watch but hazardous to both PPC property and personnel. You will give me your full name, date of recruitment, and department you are serving in."
Without turning his back to %, Taldaris addressed Sigma telepathically. "It is good to know that you are unharmed. Please excuse me as I deal with this strange individual."
Sigma noticed the blue psi-energy and began to get entranced by the colur, but Phi quickly elbowed her and she came to her senses just as the energies faded.
"Thank you for your concern," Sigma addressed Taldaris. "Oh, and it would be my pleasure to let you deal with this individual. He did, after all, just send me into a repair cycle." She glared at % before continuing to Taldaris: "Sorry not to reply by the more efficient telepathic method, but my outbound networking systems are permanently offline..."
"Nice armour, by the way," pointed out Phi.
Cyba, who had been about to say the same thing, promptly shut her mouth.
Phi, meanwhile, began inspecting her damaged cloak more carefully, and fell into muttering something about visiting the shopping district.
The meat bags were annoying. % was considering violating the no possesion clause in his contract, but decided against it on the grounds his pay would be docked. The thing currently resembling a reptilian pony rolled its eyes. "My namez %. I work in zee DMS, and waz recruitedz zomewhere that ztrictly zpeaking time doesn't exzizt."
He ambled over to the pony, and analyzed her. "Your psychology zeemz zupervizzially human. I dontz underztan humanzz. May I copy some of your brainz ztructure?"
---
The secondary body of Agent % slithered into the coffee shop. It slid by the bar, and wheezed the way only snakes can. "Double zot ammonia exzprezzo." And curled up on a stool next to Sebak. A poor understanding of cultural norms, and to many movies led him to try to create background music. This culminated in him hearing something about an intelligence agency, and thus an extension of Agent % gave an impressive improvised preformance of Duran Duran's James Bond song "A view to a kill."
He
Sebak corrected Gaspard. "Only that it was important. Also, archery is an important skill to learn in the PPC, particularly for Tolkien-verse fics. I think I will join you."
"But...but...you promised to ride some rides!" Tish protested. "And you only want to learn archery because you want to be an elf!"
The Vulcan gave her a disapproving glance. "I don't want to be an elf. I admire their wisdom and abilities and want to be capable of protecting them from corruption. Perhaps you can go on ahead, and I will join you."
Tish sighed. "Fine. Just don't forget that you promised!"
Fire Flash scooted away as nonchalantly as possible away from Agent %.
"Right. Firstly, you've regenerated once already and that was pretty much like an acid bomb going off on the pavement. We're not having this again. Secondly, we have FicPsych for individuals like you who want to hammer out some of their inward aspects. Thirdly... no. I'm not comfortable with you probing my brain."
Taldaris suddenly emitted a telepathic wave of anger that washed over his entourage.
"I can read your mind," rumbled Taldaris' 'voice'. "Correct me if I am wrong, Agent %. You find us annoying and want to possess us with whatever psychic powers you have at your disposal. The only reason you are not done so is because your pay would be significantly decreased."
The protoss moved his right arm in a way which Agent % could not fail to notice the golden psi-blade gauntlet that covered his forearm. "Know that I am protoss! Firstborn of the gods, living embodiment of purity of form, adept of the holy Khala, veteran warrior of the Templar caste, and upholder of the Great Stewardship. As a representant of the Department of Internal Affairs, it is my duty to remind you that any attempt to psychically dominate another sentient being will be tantamount to aggravated assault. Now--"
"Calm down, Taldaris," said Fire Flash. "Maybe you misinterpreted his thoughts."
The protoss agent continued to glare at % as he tucked his arms back under his ruined cloak. "Furthermore, you have not addressed my first question," said Taldaris. "What are you?
- - -
The arrow grazed the side of the target mannequin and then lost itself in the tall grass of the theme park's shooting range. Gaspard lowered his bow and glanced at Sebak, who was standing several paces behind him. "Twenty arrows and only two hit the mark, three if you count that one," said the Spy, pointing at the target with his thumb. "I've had better days. Do you want to have a turn, sir? I'd just like to observe your technique."
% was not impressed. The lecture about being firstborn of the gods was a tired old ramble he'd heard to many times. Agent % was now itching to try out what he learned in Intimidation of Sues 101. He was passing so far, and now was a perfect time to test his skill. % reformed his throat, so he'd have a deep sinister baritone, the ones that shake spines to bits. He started increasing mass, sucking up the cement under him. "Who am I? There are worlds, thing. Lands that are whirling chaos, that tear apart your very being, and shred your atoms. Living there are entities that gods fear, who consume worlds to whet their appetite." He paused, unable to resist a dramatic pause. "THEY. FEAR. ME."
By now Agent % had become nothing short of an eldritch abomination, with many snakelike heads, horns, and the ever popular glowing eyes. However, he couldn't overcome the scientific thrist that afflicted him. On of his "heads" curled around Fire Flash and asked bluntly. "You have the largest eyes of any equine I've encountered. What is your taxinomic classification?" Several other head were trying to examine the Borg triplets, with limited success.
Faster than % could react, Fire Flash sprang into action. She bit into the abomination's neck, causing it to release her. She followed up the action with a disproportionately powerful kick into %'s centre mass, causing him to reel backwards towards Taldaris.
There was a reason that the protoss were universally feared by both terran and zerg alike. They stood at three metres tall, possessed incredibly advanced technology, and were one of-- if not the-- most advanced race of psychics in the known galaxy. They created energy blades made out of their minds.
The High Templar whipped his right hand out of under his cloak and channeled his psionic energy into the gauntlet on his right forearm. A metre-long blade, sharp as a lightsaber, shimmered into existence and was quickly put to use by Taldaris, who had charged directly into %'s core. The protoss hacked and slashed with superhuman speed and strength, loping off limbs and tearing deep gashes into %'s body.
Fire Flash wasn't idle. She darted around %, faster than he could track her, delivereing kicks, headbutts, and bites to the monster to corral him away from the theme park and into a wide open space. "Go, Taldaris, go!"
The Earth pony and protoss disengaged, leaving the crippled form of % in the middle of the plaza. The High Templar pointed the palm of his left hand towards %. A brilliant bubble contained the monster, tapping it inside. "In position. Hit it," said Taldaris.
Fire Flash didn't waste any time and mashed her RA's controls. A portal opened inside the bubble, sucking % out of his enclosure and right inside the event horizon of a black hole.
Taldaris held the force field for a few more seconds to ensure any bits of % had gone and then nodded to Fire Flash, who closed the portal. The protoss lifted the bubble once the portal snapped shut.
"You okay?" panted Fire Flash. "There's still a part of it off in the city, as a snake."
The protoss nodded. He turned his face to the sun and spread his arms, basking in the warm, energy-giving sunlight. "We go. You three," he said to Cyba, Phi, and Sigma. "Alert the Yertis. Suvian in New Caledonia, shapeshifter, as a snake creature. It is able to replicate itself and possess agents. All combat-trained personnel are to be on the lookout for this abomination. Terminate with extreme prejudice."
With that said, the protoss and his partner dashed off in the direction that the snake left in.
((Hey, platypus. We don't ruin RPs with grossly aggressive and overpowered agents.))
A short distance away, two beings stood stock-still in the center of the street. They had arrived for the same reason as many others, to enjoy a day off and wander around without disguises, but they had expected it to simply be a day of fun and respite from the constant sounds of minis wreaking havoc. They were happily incorrect.
The taller of the two, a creature of complex clockwork in human form, had watched the battle in appreciation, taking mental notes on the uses of martial psionics in the battle and the teamwork on the part of the DIA Officers. He smiled as he saw the portal open underneath the creature's massive form, mentally underlining his recollection of the event in case he'd ever need to use similar strategies in the future. He had been motionless while he watched out of both intense concentration on the events in front of him and the even more intense desire not to interfere. The last thing he wanted was to get in someone's way during the fight, or worse, interrupt something social that was going on in the background.
The shorter of the two, on the other hand, was standing still out of pure outright awe. He almost considered letting the oversized blue snow-cone in his hand fall to the ground as a visual representation of his reaction, but he decided against it. He'd paid two dollars for that thing at the snack bar, and he was going to eat it no matter how many awesome fights broke out in front of him. He opted instead to shove his snack into his partner's hand before running toward Taldaris in unrepressed excitement.
"Oh, wow! Just, that was... that was the most awesome thing I've seen in... I don't even know! Can you make those energy swords whenever you want? How did you know the big monster wouldn't break into a bunch of little monsters? Where did that hand you lopped off of it go? Oh there it is under the table, never mind. But anyway! That was awesome! You're awesome! I should stop saying awesome, but I can't even think of any synonyms! That's how excited I am!" Close up, the being who was now jumping up and down and running back and forth between Taldaris and Fire Flash could be identified as a Dersite from the Homestuck continuum, atypically dressed in a gray leather jacket that looked slightly too large for him.
The taller being had patiently been walking toward the group during the excited babble, clutching the snow-cone in his hand as though he'd rather not be handling in lest the drippy blue artificial flavoring stain his carpal mechanism. The Dersite turned to the clockwork being, a massive sharp-toothed smile on his carapaced face.
"See, Nick? See? I told you you wouldn't regret coming here! Granted, I didn't know that this was going to happen, but I knew that something cool was going to happen!"
The clockwork being looked back and forth between the assembled Agents, several of whom were now staring at him and his partner. Unsure of what exactly to do in his current situation, he defaulted to the most available response.
"Yes, Lonny. It was... very good. Now, if you would calm down for a moment, I believe this is your snow-cone. I cannot eat it, as I do not possess a mouth."
"Oh, yeah." Lonny's smile shrank a little as he took the snow-cone from his partner's outstretched hand. "Sorry about that. I didn't want to drop it when I was running over, you know." Taking a large bite from his newly regained treat, Lonny turned back to Taldaris, quickly restoring his excited grin. "Okay, where was I? I remember I was at 'That's awesome, and you're awesome', which was one of my main points, but... oh, well, you probably know the rest."
To his partner's mortification, Lonny turned to the collection of other agents, waving at one that the clockwork golem recognized as a Vulcan.
"Hello, everyone else! I'm Lonny, and this..." -the golem visibly flinched as the Dersite indicated him with a wide sweep of his arms- "is Copernicus! How much other cool stuff have we missed?"
((I was going to join the RP a while ago, but decided against it when events started rolling on without me. However, after reading this last post, I couldn't restrain myself any longer. Meet my two first Agents-to-be! This is going to be fun, I think.))
...I have started a new line of the RP further up this thread (for ease of reading).
(Sorry to not have included your agents in my reply, Outhra... I think we must have been typing simultaneously because your reply only appeared after I posted mine.)
"Oh really?" bristled Phi, having heard Taldaris' thought this time. She jabbed a metal finger at %. "I assure you, Mr %, that any attempt to possess us would be a very bad idea... Taldaris aside, yours would not be the only mind lurking at the edges of ours - you would find, after breaking our mental defences, a lot more than you were bargaining for."
"So unless you fancy sharing possession of our minds with the Borg Collective -" began Sigma, with a nasty grin.
"Trust us, you don't," Cyba hinted.
"- I wouldn't recommend trying that," finished Sigma.
"Pay," put in Phi, "would be the least of your worries. The Borg don't share with non-Borg..."
"No, they assimilate," stated Sigma, faux-innocently.
"In fact, pointed out Cyba, "you might even cause a multiversal emergency."
Sebak took the bow. "I haven't had much practice," he warned. "Recreational weapons training is not popular on Vulcan."
However, to a Vulcan, there was nothing that could not be logically reasoned out, though Sebak thought that humans were the exception. He nocked an arrow and pulled the string back, imitating the proper form he had seen in movies. He squinted down the shaft at the target, then let go.
The arrow flew straight, and Sebak watched as it struck the dummy in the arm.
"Fascinating," he said. Somehow, he hadn't expected logic to apply to this. "Perhaps I can teach you."
---
Tish walked into the park. Truthfully, she'd wanted Sebak along to keep her company. Doing an amusement park alone was not fun, and it made her feel friendless. Tish didn't like that feeling. Sure, Sebak wasn't the most fun, but he was someone.
She spotted a group of agents near a section of the amusement park that looked Trekverse. Three of them appeared to be Borg, another was a MLP-verse Earth pony, and the others were species Tish didn't recognize, one something like a reptilian horse made out of rock and the other tall and armored with large weapons. The word "protoss" drifted across her mind. She shivered. She'd never heard that word before - how did it get in her head?
Tish found herself torn between a desire for company and a fear of a group where the Borg members were some of the least threatening. (Well, them and the pony.)
And they were blocking the entrance to the Trekverse park.
Tish swallowed and prepared to sneak past them.
"Yep," she said. She chuckled. "It feels funny to say that - we used to be in Godplayers, when it still existed."
"Intelligence is a noble line of work," Sebak put in - he was starting to feel slightly useless. "It's incredibly important to the functioning of the rest of the PPC."
"Yeah," Tish agreed. "So, what were you planning to do? Maybe we can join you!"