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He looked at the body. "Pity no candy came out," he muttered. "Anyone have a clue what happened?" He inspected the body more closely. "Huh. Definitely dead."

TARDISes are so cute, and I love how you've written yours - she feels like a person without feeling human, if that makes sense.

This time, instead of the lights coming back on like the flick of a switch, a fog dissipates from around the fixtures. Once things become visible again - which was about half of the normal light level - you can make out the figure of a body, a female. When the light returns to normal, well…

It’s Calliope.

That… that cannot possibly be right. She was just doing a circuit of the room, wasn’t she?

Wait, no. She was dragging the Cryptographer to the Garnet Ghast.

Or was she laughing at Sapphire?

No, she was messing with Mister Turkey.

No, wait, it was Yatagarasu.

Oh gosh. Where was she? She couldn’t have been in five places at once. It just wouldn’t have been possible.

But you look around and you don’t see her anywhere save for over the railing of a balcony, not only hung but impaled on a spear of some kind. The lights couldn't have been obscured for that long... and you heard nothing.

So what happened?

She's already thinking about tabula recta and autokey ciphers and other such fun, the card is nothing more than a passing fancy- but she flips it up and over and glances at the underside as she puts her glass down on the table.

It has a C worked into the back. Do you pick it up?

"Meet us there when you're ready. At this point, we might have half the party in on the fun." He half turned, and vanished, appearing elsewhere.

"I'm Pads.". He stuck out a hand, looking for a handshake.

"Well, it's good to see someone here knows what they're dealing with. But if nobody bothers to step out of the first room, well, most of the party has gone to waste!" She tipped her head forward, her voice lowering in pitch as it did when she spoke seriously. "And I so hate for my efforts to be wasted, darling."

Well. If she wanted to deliver veiled threats, she was doing rather well.

Their sleeves did not stop rustling. "I beg your pardon, and yours as well, whoever you are, but the fact that you're the one offering reinforcements isn't exactly inspiring trust."

An intervention was clearly called for here. That, of course, meant walking up to him and booping his nose. Or, well, his beak.

"I noticed you looking for companions - something about not wanting to walk out without an army, I believe? - and thought you might like a tick of assistance." Her smile was in no way comforting.

Their sleeves seemed to ruffle slightly, and they shifted back a few steps. "Uh, hello," they said, wondering what the Hostess was planning.

But they nodded, despite that. "Yeah... yeah, sure. I'll join you guys for your... um... exploring. Lead the way."

Oh, that was precious. She ambled over and poked Mister Turkey in the arm.

Springs stood near the refreshments table, crème brûlée in his hand, deep in thought.

He wondered how was it that he ended up eating desserts at an absolutely ungogly hour in this life. What did he do to have the right to enjoy such a rich treat at this time? It was all too overwhelming for him. He needed to find a place to sit down, to figure out what else he could do at this party, other than eating all the food in sight.

((Alright, I'm back. I was occupied for a bit. Time to see what else this party offers!))

Thank you to everyone who attended. We all had a great time, and it was... well, I admit I had been terrified out of my mind the night before. I don't go out as myself all that much, and I had horrendous nightmares about being shunned for coming in clothing that reflected my real gender rather than the one I had been assigned at birth. Those fears were totally irrational, but the feeling I got when I realised they were totally unfounded, that I could be me around the people I care about?

It means a lot.

I lack the words to express how much.

Thank you. =]

The only error I could see was "wistful thinking" - I've always heard it as wishful, but I could be wrong. Legitimately every other thing was beautiful.

1. Nope, the only editor of her userpage has been her. I just checked the edit history.
   
   2. Randomly stumbling across images seems a flimsy basis for declaring that Hitler is god-worshiped by some corners of the Internet, IMO. It only takes a few trolls to make disturbing images; it takes a group to form a culture, and it takes observing said group for a period of time to correctly observe its culture. Either you're overgeneralizing your observations or you're understating your involvement. In either case, see 3. (And, good! Someone has to be a responsible adult around here.)
   
   2b. Nope, I said "stuff" for a reason. You're fine; Hitler-cultishness is not.
   
   3. Yes, leaving things out is okay. You can in fact choose what you allow to shape your subjective experience of the Internet. We're all living in weird times, and fact-checking is good, but there's such a thing as delving too deep in the rabbit hole. There's also such a thing as over-sharing.
   
   4. "Fixed" is not an attainable goal. "Better," on the other hand, is a choice we all have the chance to make every day. You seem to have some awareness of your issues, which is a good first step. Use that awareness to make better choices next time, and the time after that, and so forth. Also, this may or may not relate to you, but I'll put it out there anyway: if you need professional and/or chemical assistance to make better choices, that's okay! Lots of us do. Getting the help you need is a great choice. {= )
   
   ~Neshomeh

I can't really comment on how easy it'd be to make work, since my knowledge of the Tolkienverse is rather rusty.

- Tomash

I barely even know what half of this stuff is that you're talking about. But I want to learn. The techiest I am at this current moment is being an amateur ratio operator. Which isn't quite as techy as your techiness. Or at least, you seem to have quite an interest in making your posts secure, and the fact that you know what pretty much everything is doing to make them secure has led me to declare you "techy."

Since you are so techy, my newbie gift to you is a replica of Dr. Quarkblitz's robot from the Spear of Destiny mission packs. This replica functions similar to the replica Portal turret that the crew at Valve built, in that it looks extremely similar to the original, but just makes sounds and does not fire bullets as the original does. It is also programmable via an Arduino board! :D

Now for the less techy part. What fandoms and stuff are you in? What types of things do you like to write? Got any characters you think you want to make into agents? I'm curious to know.

Well, either way, it's nice to meet you, Your Royal Techiness! It's evident that you're going to be a great help to the PPC, even if you don't write a single mission.

-Twistey
----------
"Huh? What's this robot you're talking about?" Glad you asked! http://wolfenstein.wikia.com/wiki/Robot

The Musician looked around, and then back at her companions.

"I've seen ciphers like this before," she said, "but I could use some space to spread out papers for the decipherment. Could I get you to accompany me? I'd... rather not be sitting alone and distracted in a quiet corner."

She nodded towards a well-lit but only sparsely occupied corner of the room, and the tables therein.

1. Actually, on her user page, somebody wrote down a history of Bram's activity that seems to definitely not have been written from her perspective.
   
   2. Believe me, it's not really a matter of "hanging out" there, I just often stumble into weird stuff while searching on Google Images, and it's so bad that the memories stick with me. (You seriously sound like my parents... XD)
   2b. Hang on, are you calling me "weird and/or messed-up"? Because that's what it sounds like.
   
   3. Very specific lens, ah? As in it's actually okay to leave out a few things? Ah. I've always been a fan of world-building and making my fantasy realms very complete, which explains the overload on fandoms. But as for the rest of it, it's mainly just a matter of, well, I've also always had a bit of a thing for trying to know everything about a subject before forming opinions, and then trying to be as honest and factual about it as possible. Perhaps it's because I live in an age of extreme opinions and constant battles over political correctness in the media, or perhaps it's because I'm trying to get control over my emotions and stop freaking out over everything. Either way, it's becoming obvious to me that I have a slight obsession with research and kind of idealize a lack of bias that probably isn't humanly attainable. Or something. Probably just trying to convince myself that my problem is something other than what it actually is. Which is- oh never mind. This paragraph is getting too long and train-of-thought-y. Let's just say I bring evil wherever I go. Hah ;P
   
   4. The question is, though, if your patience truly is long enough for you to eventually see me fixed. It's going to take a long time unless I get a pretty extreme wakeup call, and a pretty extreme wakeup call would probably be a bad idea, as it might fail and provoke me to do stupid stuff instead. But that's alright.
   
   -Twistey

"Considering the fact that she could resurrect us just as easily--who knows?" Once again, she sipped her cider by reflex and, once again, began coughing violently. "I'm the Crimson Woman, by the way," she croaked after her coughing fit was over.

To the Musician, he said, "I don't know! It's addressed to you."

Rod turned to look at the Crimson Woman as she spoke. "Gee, I hope not . . . You have a frighteningly good point. But the Hostess wouldn't do something like that, would she?"