Subject: I suspected you might have...
Author:
Posted on: 2012-12-05 11:26:00 UTC
... but I was just covering eventualities. No problem.
Subject: I suspected you might have...
Author:
Posted on: 2012-12-05 11:26:00 UTC
... but I was just covering eventualities. No problem.
Kali looked thoughtful. "It would be interesting," she admitted, "especially if we didn't stay too long. I don't want to leave Orion alone for long; he's watching Aeric at the moment."
"Unger shouldn't be on his own for too long, either. Remember when he set fire to the lounge and nearly killed himself?"
"I work in Bad Slash," Kaliel said, turning her attention briefly away from Kelok, "not to mention I'm a Tok'ra. I don't know what your standard of 'nice' is, but all I'm interested in is seeing how the future might be."
"I'm more than happy staying here," Lee contributed. "I mean, yeah, the future sounds interesting and all, but I'd rather just stay here. I get enough experience dimension-hopping every day without having to worry about taking a temporal leap."
Kelok blushed, his cheeks turning green, "I'm, uh, basically a space vampire meant to suck the life out of humans through my feeding hand." He hurredly added, "But, don't worry, I was created without the urge to take over the galaxy."
Des waved his hand. "I have visited enough weird places for a lifetime. I think I'll pass, especially since I have no idea what will happen if I will meet the future version of myself... if I'm still alive, that is. No, don't tell." He rubbed his goatee. "Though, to be honest, on the other hand going to another weird place won't do much, I suppose..."
At that point, he stopped speaking coherently and just muttered to himself.
(OOC: Future!Des is a ghost possessing a Jian Shang Di suit of armour.)
Have you established a timeline for the Sundering? This RP has given me some plot bunnies...
As soon as exams are over, I'll have a look at this stuff.
One last thing: is the Sundering going to be the official canon of the future!PPC or is it just one of many possibilities? I have a feeling that it's the second choice, but I just want to make sure...
As far as I'm concerned, the events I've written about are what will happen to my agents and their families. That doesn't mean anyone else has to agree with me, though.
Thus far, we haven't had an unreconciled difference-of-opinion in PPC canon (the death/not!death of Makes-Things was reconciled and retconned). That doesn't mean we never will, though.
hS
(Or at least the 2069 as set out here...)
Would you be cool with that? :)
Thank you! ^_^
Thanks also for the info and reminder of the background.
*runs off to start plotting*
That gives me some plot bunnies, too. They're a bit... grimdark.
"Sure he's safe! He likes to jump, and play, and slobber, and run! He's a mini from the Sherlock Holmes continuum. He has to keep eating glowing mushrooms or his glow will go out, but I don't think that means he's radioactive." He bounced in place for a few seconds before he spotted Eagrus. "Oh look at that! He's got an axe, too!"
"Yes, I have an axe," Des told the half-elf. "What with it?"
"Oh man, that's a great one! Do you collect scalps? I collect scalps. Maybe we could trade sometime?"
... from his earlier 'oh, that's mildly interesting' to 'gods this is disgusting'.
"No! What do think I am, an AmerIndian?" Des asked, waving his free hand at his longcoat, which had seen better days, and his modern attire.
Unger's excited expression faltered for a brief moment. "Oh. You're one of those kind of people. You probably like showers and everything! If you're not a barbarian, how'd you get to using an axe? I got mine so I could go on my test of manhood." He paused and absentmindedly rubbed his arm and shifted from foot to foot. "Um, hmm, that didn't quite go so well--" his expression brightened again. "but then I fell through a plothole and ended up here, and met Kelok, and got Homles." He abruptly stopped speaking as if that explained everything.
"That sounds like a lot more fun version of World One. I'm Unger, and this is Homles," he said pointing to the the glowing mini. "Kelok and I are in the All-Purpose Department, Sherlock Holmes Division. We get mostly movie related badfic, a lot of Bad Slash missions, some Sues--Kelok really doesn't like those--and sometimes we have to rescue Holmes and Watson from really weird situations, like when we had to pull most of the cast out of a Victorian zombie apocalypse world and put them back where they belong." He leaned in conspiratorially. "The Ironic Overpower is completely real and in charge."
"A fun version of World One... well..." the human rubbed his neck. "As far as I get it, it's just as bad - or as good, depending on your point of view - as World One."
He waved. "Pleased to meet you, Unger," he said. "I am Desdendelle. I am in the Department of Floaters - my RC is log e - though it seems I and my partner, Anebrin, will move on to the Department of Implausible Crossovers at some point in the future."
"Kelok and I started in Floaters, but we got kicked out." Unger looked around for a subject changer. "Are these new people new recruits or something? They don't seem as freaked out by being in the PPC as most new recruits."
"Kicked out, ka," Des said. He tucked that piece of information into a compartment in his mind, like he did with quite a lot of other, unimportant data. "Those new people... well, I didn't quite understand, but they do seem to be from the future. Some of them are Dafydd Illian's progeny, one is a certain drider I know... I hear tell that my partner survived till then."
"From the future? We did a mission where some girls dragged Holmes and Watson into the future. Moving through time is not good, right? Who's Dafydd Illian?"
(Yes he is young and silly)
"Well, time travel gives me headaches. Especially the loops," said Des. "As to who's Dafydd Illian... well, he was a sorta-Replacement of, hum, Maglor, I think? from the Silmarilion and an Agent of the PPC; he retired six years or so ago. He did C*l*br**n..."
The human shuddered, and made a face as though he swallowed a lemon. "I certainly do not envy the guy. He died there. Because he used a Ring of Sue-ness. Not something I am going to do, certainly."
"I have?" asked Eagrus, surprised, quickly followed by: "Hey, who switched my sword?! Give it back at once or I'll... I'll call the Collective of Three back!"
Absorbed in a conversation so much that somebody actually managed to sneak up and swap his sword for an axe? Eagrus was horrified.
When, hmm? Oh, maybe it fell through the portal somehow and came back. Or maybe I just misswrote 'where'!
Encouragement was in order, it seemed. "You know," Jenni said, "since you're here—or rather, now—have you thought about trying to prevent all that? Or, maybe just by showing up and alerting us to the possibility, you've changed history. Maybe we'll do things to ensure it happens differently. We'll be able to see the early signs and nip it in the bud."
"But only if we're in Back to the Future here. Who knows, we could be in Star Trek or something, where the time-travelers are immune to the changes precisely because they've stepped out of time." Jenni grinned. "Oh, and Gaspard? Relax. I don't bite unless my date asks nicely."
(( Sure, Jenni, real soothing... ))
wear a swimsuit... all the time?" Emera's eyebrows quirked. She then frowned to herself "No, that's not the right question at all. What do you mean, HQ network and all that? What school are you from?"
Kayleigh blinked. "Er, St. Asimov's School for Girls of Unusual Style. Is that important? And, well, not all the time. Would you prefer me to take it off?"
"No! No! No need to take it off!" Emera waved her hands frantically to try and ward off the strange question. "I'll just be on my way then. Got to figure out what's wrong with this portal you know. That's why they called me down here. Goodbye odd girl!" With that, she jumped through the portal...
And was faced with another corridor. This one, though, was in pristine condition. Almost no dust in the corners and only a few slight scratches in the wall from swords or axes or the like. All the doors still had doorknobs. There was something more wrong with this portal than it not leading to Rivendell.
Des made his 'mouth as a diagonal line' expression. He massaged his brows. "Whoa, you dosats - I assume this is a corruption of DoSAT, Department of Sufficiently Advanced Technology - certainly inherited Makes Things' temper. As to the disguise business... well-" he cut himself short, and turned to Riaa. "I see you'll still be around when I'll be dead and buried, ka? Is Anebrin still alive?"
(OOC: Yes, he is. Still around.)
"I think he's still alive. Isn't he?" she added, nudging Amarthedhel, who frowned.
"The blond ellon, right?" asked the half-elf. "He worked around the same time as Nana, so..."
...and let through a lanky 18-year old man with messy hair clad in his pyjamas and a green bathrobe.
"I'm sorry, is something going on?" asked Gaspard De Grasse, still rubbing sleep from his eyes. "Don't let this be an Emergency. The double shift the Sub Rosa assigned last night sure felt like one, though."
Durran's jaw dropped. His mouth worked soundlessly a few times before his voice emerged in a croaky whisper. "The... Sub Rosa? You know the Sub Rosa?"
Riaa turned to Desdendelle. "I am a drow. So long as we have mana surrounding us, we live for centuries. There's hardly any here, but I haven't yet hit my first century. I only need to visit the underground a few times a year to survive."
She looked up, apparently thinking. "Anebrin... Yes, he's alive. I see him on missions occasionally - though not since we had a mission in the new Firefly 'verse. Huge tangle of purist and newbie 'Sues, getting into everything tangentially related to the canon. It was a mess."
"Well, that was to be expected," Des said. "He told me that his kind lives for two centuries at the very least..."
He rubbed his beard and looked pensive. "I wonder... no, don't tell me how I end up. Spoilers and all that."
The boy tapped his forehead and turned back to Durran. "Well, of course Spy De Grasse knows his department head, just like I occasionally meet the Floating Hyacinth... What was your name again?"
"Yes, for magic," Riaa explained. With a flick of her hand, her shadow began to move, growing upwards and forming shapes. "That's a mana art, since my affinity is with shadow-magic. Drow can live for centuries in a constant supply of mana - for example, in a large city of drow. The older you get, the more drow you need to be around. Diva'ratrika, the oldest of us, needed to stay in one of our biggest cities to not die. But I'm young, and spend enough time in magical continua to not wither."
Laede leaned over. "I use magic too - this gem is my power's source. Ever heard of Madoka Magica?"
"Unfortunately, I haven't," admitted Eagrus, "although I have visited the Underdark at least once on a mission. Interesting place - from a safe hiding place, at least. I do wonder, though, is magic always something you're either born with or without, or can it be taught? Even, say, the teensiest, tiniest little bit just to annoy Little Miss Tech over there?" He glanced in Cyba's direction, but she was too occupied by her own conversation to notice.
Riaa frowned. "My magic is that of the drow and the dark elves. Goblins - humans, I mean, don't have auras in my universe. Our magic probably wouldn't help you."
"And my magic requires being an adolescent female possibly willing to sell your soul," Kaede interjected. "Though there are probably continua where anyone with sufficient willpower could do it. You could try looking into RPG systems."
"I have inborn magic," Lee said, joining in on the conversation. She conjured up a small ball of water with barely a thought, making it float an inch or so above her palm. "I'm an Elemental Mage, First Class, or Kirsala Tarev, if you want my Clan rank. In my home 'verse, magic is everywhere, and most races have an innate talent for it. Then again, technomancy is one of the leading industries there, what with the æther-ælectric airships everywhere."
Des raised an eyebrow. "Dafydd Illian? The Dafydd Illian? I think he retired six or so years ago. I read some of his mission reports - very, very messy, especially that LotR 'fic..." He paused. "Wait. You're his offspring?"
((Gaspard pulled the music box out of his bathrobe pocket, sorry.))
"Well, she's the head of Intelligence, for starters. She's the only Flower I know who occasionally visits agents on duty-- I see her walk among the Sorting Room rows every now and then-- but she mostly stays in her office doing paperwork," continued the Spy. "I've never met her on a one-on-one basis; I'll never be as half as important as Bulldog or Architeuthis. Those two have to report to her on a regular basis."
Something clicked in Gaspard's head. "Pardon me sir, but who's the Rhodedendron? And what do you mean by the Sundering? Where do you come from?"
Agent Natasha walked down one of the many halls of HQ. She held a gaming device in her hands and was thoroughly engrossed in her game. In fact she was so oblivious to anything going on outside of her game that she hadn’t even noticed her shoelace coming untied. And the laws of comedy being what they are, the result of this was obvious.<br> “Ooof!” Natasha hit the floor, and let go of the device. Her brand new trading cards that she was taking back to her RC spilled out of her blue sweater pocket as her device skid across the floor and right into the path of three agents.
Agent Desdendelle was lost. He was trying really hard not to reach RC log e after going to the Cafeteria for a snack, so far without much success. He passed an Agent who looked like she just bumped into something, and a trio of people who looked vaguely out of place. At first, he didn't pay much attention to them, continuing past them, but when he heard snippets from their conversation, he stopped in his tracks. The numbers were taken off the RCs' doors ages ago? Well, if that wasn't interesting, he didn't know what was. He turned around and returned to where the Agent and the trio stood.
“Excuse me,” he said, absentmindedly running a finger on his axe's blade – a bad habit he was trying to get rid of.
"Actually they're Magic 2013. See, the one and the three..." Natasha pointed at the set logo in the corner of the card. That was when she caught sight of an agent she didn't know dismantling her gaming device.
"Hey!" Natasha jumped to her feet, and ran up to the agent. "Stop that!" she paused when she noticed that the stranger had a screwdriver coming out of her finger.
"Paladen Kaede!" exclaimed Paladin Amarthedhel, spinning around to see the duo. "You caught sight of your mother, too?"
"Basel Paladin Poppy and I just dispatched a Stu who had been trying to prevent Sherlock from returning to John -" began Amarthedhel, but Poppy whirled around and glared at her.
"Didn't I just tell you not to spoil the past?" demanded the Basel Paladin. Amarthedhel raised her hands in a placating gesture.
"It's very good," she said, somewhat lamely.
"It's not spoilers, actually," Lee said. "Everyone knows Watson comes back; it's just that we don't know how it goes in /Sherlock/. Where are you two from? I've never seen you around here, and I usually try to visit most of the newbies with a baked good of some kind."
"It's true," Maeryn agreed, switching off with Kaliel with a bow of her head and a brief prolonged blink. "Orion says that his favorite cookies are the ones Agent Keaton makes, and I have to agree. Surely you have had them?"
Amarthedhel gaped. "The reveal is so blindingly obvious," she said, but refrained from saying more at a warning glare from Poppy.
"We haven't had these... cookies," added Poppy, frowning. "And what in frell do you mean by Agent?"
"Flow Paladins?" asked Amarthedhel, green eyes wide.
"Flow /what/? You mean mages? I'm the only mage here," Lee said. "And Agents? Y'know, employees of the PPC? Just who in the gods' names /are/ you lot?"
Maeryn tensed, her hand slipping towards the pocket where she kept her hand device at all times. She wasn't liking what was going on here, and wanted to be prepared just in case.
"Flow Paladins! They had the rights and duties to assassination, exorcism, demolition, transportation - wait, you mean -"
Poppy glared at the still rather oblivious Amarthedhel. "Didn't I just tell you we're in the past, lembas-for-brains?"
"Oh, gods," Lee said, running a hand over her face. "The S.O. is going to /love/ this."
"What?"
"We've go a couple of sharding /time travelers/ here," Lee told Maeryn. She looked at the others. "Have I guessed correctly?"
"And if you two know about Mary Sues, then you know what we do to them," Lee said, baring her suddenly sharp teeth in a wicked smile as she settled into a defensive stance. "Please, try to convince us otherwise. It should provide a laugh."
"It hides the blood," Lee said, relaxing a little. "And that's what the Disguise Generator is for, if we go somewhere that black doesn't work well in. Besides, not /everything/ is in a forest."
"I don't usually carry one on me," Kali said. "Sorry."
"Ian has our DORKs," Lee replied. "You guys don't have those? How do you go into non-native fandoms without them?"
Presuming it was me you meant, that is.