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"Yes, it is. I believed that, given our hostess, having a dress that would make me trip over my own feet would probably be a bad idea." They raised their eyebrows and added, "Do you not recognize who I speak of you as? There are other names I could use, but, well, I'm trying to avoid giving a hint to eavesdroppers." They smiled again and glanced at the crowd around them.

The man shook his head after a moment. "Ok. Better question. Is that magic?"

They breathed out when they saw who it was, and after analyzing the man, they smiled a little. "Oh, hello! What are you curious about... Perhaps, shall I call you Dragon of the Angel?" They raised their eyebrows, unsure if the other would understand what they was trying to say.

'I think the big idea about all this was us all moving about and dancing and such, but,' he nodded again. 'I don't want to move around and I'm fairly certain I can't dance. That works for me, that.' He smiled, and gazed around, looking for an area that fit the "somewhere to sit down" description.

Urk, all this praise is going to go to my head, doc. Not really sure what else to say—I don't really know how to take a compliment, either. ^^;

(I did play around with beast and beauty titles for a bit, so you're not alone there.)

Help yourself to the mini! He needs a good home. :)

A cane tapped gently on the back of the dress wearer. "Hello. I'm very curious about the dress."

"Just lights, nothing special." She sighed and readjusted her grip on her cane. "Mind if we find somewhere to sit down?"

Too bad most of my fandoms don't exactly allow for agent quality OCs. I like how you managed to strip them down to be good agents.

I am very sorry for how long this took me. This has not been a productive week . . .

The opening banter is excellent, showing that Ix clearly thinks about her looks, but is also embarrassed to come off as Sue-like. It also shows the bit of strain this puts on their relationship, where it's difficult for Charlotte to complement Ix without making her feel self conscious. And you get it all across in so few lines . . . wish we could all dialogue like Iximaz!

I think the entrance into the fic is the best part of this story. The simultaneous drop into italics while Ix starts reacting to the moon out of nowhere are extremely disorienting, letting the reader share in the agents' feelings at that moment. Your descriptions of the fic using Charlotte's super senses right after correcting the italics is incredibly well-detailed as well.

I love that you mock the cartoonish hand-flailing presented as the Sue getting bullied by comparing the realistic racist teasing Ix had to live through—and really, the whole mission is some great side-by-side of a werewolf Sue and your realistic werewolf character, which hardly needs to be pointed out, since that was clearly your intent. And you summarize that whole theme just utterly perfectly in Ix's speech just before the assassination.

To give the author some credit, I am the type to wake up, shave, get dressed, eat, wash dishes, and then go back to bed until I absolutely need to get up and drive to work. So. That's something I have in common with a Sue.

I love the ending here. I love that you write Charlotte being so dedicated and supportive of Ix, in spite of the difficulties Ix's self esteem must give her. And I have to admit, when I hit that final line, my mind began singing ♪Tale as old as time . . .♪of its own volition. >.>

Oh, and before I forget: may I adopt Fortesque, if no one else has gotten him yet?

—doctorlit transforms into a competent adult every full moon, settles back into a nearly functioning man-child the rest of the month

After a second of introspective silence, the Raven gestured towards the food table, which was overflowing with many delicious-looking treats. "Well, I'm going to get a drink. If you want to join me-?"

"Pretty much just dress clothes I already owned. The watch and mask are models of props from a TV show, but I'm not giving it away!" He crossed his arms. "You have to guess on your own."

"I was complaining about the arrangement, which is which instruments are playing each part, but there aren't good words for how they're playing it."

"But enough shop talk," the Musician continued. "What of you? Your choice of costume is interesting."

You really haven't seen much of me, have you? Well, thanks for that anyway. I might have to research a bit before I do any account-making, so I'll most likely end up unable to participate in this particular RP. Probably for my own good, too - I've got some crud to clean up in other threads.

-Twistey, who is pretty dang variable

The comment on the page for Guggle fluid was a little much. (Man I have seen some weird stuff while Google image searching.) I was mainly just trying to create a page for Guggle fluid so that a page exists for it and the link is not red. People can tweak things on it as they wish.

But as for the rest of it, I literally have no idea what to do here. All that shebang plays a big part in Wolfenstein 3D (Wolfreidi), which plays a big part in my fandom life (Twyla's backstory), and I'm part of the PPC (Plort), so I can't come up with any ideas except to nip it in the bud and leave here, but that's a bit extreme. So can you please offer me some insights?

-Twistey

"I like your outfit in turn. Quite red, and I like red." She arched an eyebrow. "By the way, my lady, you might work on Fellowship. I know I'm the talk-y person and all, but really - you're in no danger here!"

She stepped away to speak with further guests, leaving the Crimson Woman behind without a chance to answer.

They fidgeted a bit more and then said, "Um... I can definitely see why you thought I was Iximaz. From what I know of them, I gather that they're not the best conversationalist either. You're not bothering me, just so you know, I just never really know what to say, that's all." Sapphire glanced around; "Do you think there's a refreshment table anywhere?"

it was slow, subtle, majestic. In a moment, the clumsy, pottering bowling ball had disappeared, and what remained was mysterious, tempting, esoteric. 'Call me-' And then all the lights went off, and he released a panicked grunt and stumbled somewhere and bumped someone who, also, released a panicked grunt, stumbled somewhere, hit someone else, causing them to release a panicked grunt, until the darkened room was echoing in a chain of panicked grunts and stumbles. He watched Cal's entire presentation, glanced at her red lipstick and thought 'how typical of Calliope!'

And when the lights came back on all the dignified grace he had somehow built up had long dissolved, and he looked up at the stranger and said: 'Uhr, I'm Mister Turkey. But not, bloody, the warbling chicken-thing Americans celebrate sometimes, it's when you get three strikes in a row. In bowling. So it's victory. I've essentially called myself "victory."' He wondered, for a moment, why he didn't just call himself 'victory,' as opposed to a warbling chicken-thing Americans celebrated sometimes. He looked back at the stranger. He grinned, took their hand, shook firmly. 'So what am I meant to call you?'

And making an account is quite simple. Please do join in; a variable would be nice, and since I don't know you very well, you would be quite the variable indeed.

Plus, from what I have seen of you, you are a cool person who I want at my party.

"But you say some of the instruments are off? Is there, like, a name for that in music, when the emotion is wrong?"

"Happy birthday!" she said, smiling. "I'd sing, but, er, not my forte. Ha, forte. Music joke." She coughed. "Ehrm. Anyway, I like your party. It's very, er, red and black and white, in a good way." She blinked behind her mask. Then, in a much smaller voice, she said, "I like your outfit."

"Now we're in trouble," the Musician said, laughing. "You've only just met me and you're asking me to judge musical ability?"

She listened for a moment, and then nodded.

"In my opinion, they are a skilled group, and experienced with playing together," she said. "Their director sounds inexperienced, they aren't controlling the emotions of the piece well. And I have... issues with whoever arranged it. That part belongs to the horn, not the cellos."

"How did you...? Nevermind. That's probably a good idea. I'll head by in a bit. Catch you later?" The wolf made a slight bow, then turned away, ready to mingle elsewhere.

The Crimson Woman had somehow gotten behind the White Wolf and was peering around her newfound cover, hands knotted into her dress. "Well, I should probably find the birthday girl and wish her a happy birthday," she said. She straightened, smoothing out her skirt.