To m'new agents, Lyn and Mohan.

Mohan is a L'Ang, which is a species from a canon that hasn't exactly been published just yet. *cough* Think of him as... let's say, a hross from a Narrative where the hrossa are Fallen, and have access to magic. Aside from what-all description's entered in the story below, he carries a quarterstaff of adamant, which can be charged with a shock-type spell, but is generally just used to hit people really hard. When out of uniform, he wears a kilt and naught else, to his partner's dismay.

Lyn is a human from Earth, our own home Narrative, of indiscriminate late-teen-early-twenties age. She is definitely female, despite the unwillingness of various people to admit this. She wears contacts or glasses, depending on circumstances, and is proficient with a broadsword or firearm. She lacks superpowers, but has an unnerving ability to blend into the background of any context, and remain forgotten until information is inadvertently revealed. Out of uniform, she wears paint-spattered t-shirts and jeans, and the occasional hoodie.

---

Firstly: These chips aren't just salty, they're LIMEY and salty. Most excellent.

Secondly: The trees in this plaza, I have noticed, are very tastefully lit. Far better than the old West Haven green, or Milford, for that matter.

Thirdly: I'm wondering, now, where you are. It's been about half an hour since we were supposed to meet, the stores are beginning to clear out, and still no sign of my inter-dimensional friend. I would worry, if it wasn't so counter-productive.

"Counter-productive or not, this is beginning to be worrisome," Lyn said aloud, putting down the notebook to glance around. Mohan was still nowhere in sight, and this was a rather important meeting. She wondered if he'd had trouble finding a portal. As she began to contemplate the relative risks and potential benefits of trying to contact him, there was a faintly musical swishing noise, like the wind on a ghostly set of chimes. The darkness parted, and a frosty grey glow spread in the empty space between the curb and the well-lit tree before it. After a moment, there was a louder noise, the sound of the membranes of reality being parted-- and he stepped through, into the First World.

"Hmmmm," he said, glancing around. Lyn stood, crumpling the empty chip bag into her knapsack, and grinned up at him. He was lit up in silhouette, by the glow of the portal, and she studied him for the moment before it went out. He was significantly taller than her-- given, that wasn't hard to do to a girl who was 5'6", but at 8'10", Mohan stood significantly taller than most human beings. You might mistake him for one at the first glance, if there was a fair distance and poor lighting, but the second glance wouldn't be able to hide it-- he was most definitely not human-- barely humanoid, in fact. He was covered in downy, light brown fur, and if the three-segmented arms didn't give away the rest, the long, catlike tail behind him definitely would. Lyn had known him for years now, and was entirely used to the unorthodox appearance he presented.

"I'm not late, am I? Mislaid this bedratted uniform, it took me half the morning to find it."

She shrugged. "A bit, but it's no big deal. We've just go--" she stopped short, glaring down at the portal. There'd been no noise this time, but a small shape (relatively speaking, of course) had appeared behind him. "...Mohan, is that Tig?"

He looked back, frowned down at the shape, and swore loudly. "I locked him out! Tig, you little monster!"

Lyn rubbed her forehead tiredly, then shrugged. "Not much we can do now, Mohan. We're going to be late if we wait any longer. Let's just bring him, and hope he can stay out of trouble."

Nodding assent, the ex-pirate, soon-to-be-assassin stooped and picked up the cat, who weighed a good ten pounds and was built like a bobcat; it looked like a kitten in his arms. "Got the... device?"

She reached into the knapsack and held up the Portal Generator. "Yup. Ready when you are, dude." He grinned reassuringly as she punched in the coordinates, double-checking against the little piece of paper that had come with it, and inhaled sharply when the portal popped into existence, casting a much sharper purpley light over their surroundings. Lyn gave him a shaky sort of smile. "Here goes nothing," she whispered, and stepped through the door to PPC HQ. Mohan followed, Tig's distinctive mew heralding the way.

Ah, you've arrived. Took you long enough. The SO leaned over his desk, watching them both over his steepled fronds.

"Sorry about the delay, Sir," Lyn said, stepping forward with a salute. "Lynx Salfadge, reporting for duty."

Mohan echoed the gesture, with a rather more archaic salute, bringing his right arm across his chest smartly. "Mohan 화이트 스타 마운틴의, reporting for duty."

The SO quirked a petal, a gesture reminiscent of a single raised eyebrow. Interesting. Welcome, both of you. I have your papers here, he intoned, pushing the two manila folders across the desk. You'll be spending your time in Foraging, at first. I highly suggest you read the manual before attempting any actions in the course of your duty. There will be no senior partners to teach either of you, as our Cafeteria workers have been using Replicators for the past few generations.

Lyn nodded, took the folder, and then stopped short. Mohan raised an eyebrow, not budging.

"Foraging? I was told this was an assassin's position."

The SO quirked a petal again, and spread its fronds in a sort of shrug. Something has been going wrong with the Replicators, and those Agents who do actually depend on the Cafeteria are beginning to suffer. We don't need assassins as much as we need food-- or the staff who can't get it elswhere do, anyway.

Lyn frowned, but turned back around, reaching for Mohan's folder. He took it from her, not looking away from the SO. "This is not, I trust, a permanent situation?"

The SO gave another shrug. I doubt it. The sooner we can get the correct Department on it, the sooner we can fix it. Dismissed, Agents.

As they left, Mohan glanced down at his folder, which Tig had been batting at in vain. "Response Center?" he wondered aloud. "I thought those only got assigned to Field Agents."

Lyn shrugged, still lost in thought. "We'll be working in the field, too. Stealing food out of plot-holes and the like. What Resp..." she trailed off, looking down at the folder. "Response Center 10739. Wow."

Mohan quirked an eyebrow. "That a problem?"

"Eh, just annoying. That was my student ID. Of course it's following me into the PPC." She shook her head. "Ah, there we go-- on the left."

He followed her glance to a hallway he could've sworn wasn't there a moment ago, and the doorway it led to, which was eight feet and six inches, exactly. Well, this was going to be all kinds of fun!