The PPC Posting Board - Latest posts

That's what I get for staying up writing past my bedtime :-/.

Yes, that should be ey. Not sure whether or not I can blame that on autocorrect: my phone isn't used to Spivak pronouns, but also it could be me screwing up and thinking of Kebrdå as currently biologically male rather than as a member of a species in which physical sex is fluid and gender is not usually culturally significant. In the process of developing em, ey's been through five different genders and seven different home continua :-/. I think I've finally made up my mind, though.

Eir continuum is original -- actually, it's a running joke I have with a friend. Eir species has been described as resembling "an armchair with feathers." Kebrdå's feathers are blue and green.

Anyway, I'm glad you liked the story! Hope this confuses/intrigues you further.

--Key

Apecian, don't you know imitation is the sincerest form of flattery? And flattered I am! And it was funny, too. Quite wonderful. I especially liked it when the agents interrupt each other in the middle of words that aren't actually curses. Now, I'm going to go sit over in a corner and squee. Dashes over to corner.

After all, we can't have Tacitus be a ball of hate for the rest of his life. That wouldn't be fun, would it?

Thanks for the input! It's greatly appreciated— and I'm always glad to hear that my work is relatable.

Wait, I don’t actually need that anymore. I got Permission now and can write them whenever I want to. Still, it’s a challenge, so here we go. (You may want to read this first.)

---

Increasing hunger is not a good distraction when one tries to find the cafeteria; it had delayed them further, making their hunger increase even more in an endless loop. Only when they had started to discuss recent developments in the Potterverse, they had suddenly found themselves in a large room full of tables and chairs, with a counter and some vending machines on one side. Hieronymus still wondered how he had not noticed passing a door, but a door was certainly there, since he had nearly been thrown out through it by a horde of angry agents when he had tried to jump the queue. After going through all this, Hieronymus was quite impatient when Androia, who had sneakily moved forward while half of the agents who had been in the queue were occupied elsewhere, finally put two dishes on the table. He grabbed the fork, but then he started.

"Are you sure that this is meatballs with mixed vegetables?"

"Yes, I am," said Androia, taking the seat next to him. "Why do you ask?"

"’cause it’s moving."

"Really? Mine only moves when I stir it." Androia stirred the food with her spoon to demonstrate the effect.

Hieronymus watched his dish suspiciously. "I hope this isn’t another meatloaf incident." He poked the vegetables with his fork. "What the F–"

"Watch your language! "

"–lying Featherduster is that?!"

A pair of triangular, furry ears peaked out between the broccoli, and a pair of wide, dark eyes lured form under the cabbage.

"Awww," cooed Androia and reached out to shift the vegetables aside and scratch the tiny head. "Who's a cute kitten? Who's a cute kitten? Are you a cute kitten? Yes you are! Yes you are!"

The kitten sneezed and shook off the carrots and cauliflower. Hieronymus glared at the mess on the table.

"Isn't it the cutest?" Androia asked her partner.

Hieronymus frowned at her. "Who are you, and what have you done with Androia?"

"Hey, I am trying to develop some personality traits. At home, I was never allowed to do that. It was all running and fighting and casting spells, and the occasional flower-picking to gain proficiency."

Oh, crap. That’s what happens if you don’t keep your Player Character on a short leash.

Androia picked up the kitten carefully, and started scratching behind its ears again. "Aren't you just the cutest? Yes you are! Yes you are! You're gonna come live with us now, okay?" The kitten purred. "I know! You'll love it. We'll give you food, and you can sleep in my bed, and – oh! You need a name."

"Look," said Hieronymus carefully, "we can’t keep it. Seeing how we always skip months of HQ time while we are on a mission, who should be in charge of its litter box?"

At another table, Apecian nudged his partner. "Did you hear that? This plagiarizing b–"

"Stop!" Michael interrupted. "Give her some slack, she’s still learning."

"But that plagiarizing beast took all my words to put them in the night elf’s mouth!"

"Oh, that you meant. So you think it’s a copycat, then?”

---

HG, never resisting an opportunity.

I like seeing older agents, it makes for a nice change, and T'Kat and Meg are very cute together. Plus, Vulcans! Also, I'm now intensely curious as to what Kebrdå looks like, exactly.

"I'm not interrupting anything, am I?" Meg laughed even harder at that. Kebrdå's mouth opened slightly as he recognized her voice.
A few minor technical points - you may want to indicate that it's Kebrdå speaking here, as it looks like Meg is at first. Also, (I think) you're referring to Kebrdå as he instead of ey?

Luna is adorable, and it's nice to see a softer side of Tacitus. I think it's especially touching because some of Luna's behavior reminds me a bit of things I've seen in shelter animals as a volunteer, especially the way some of them seemed starved for affection...

Excuse me, I need to go pet my kitty a bit.

He watched the little Absol run from the Pokémon Centre into the woods. Trainers often did that; Pokémon that didn’t make the cut when they were bred for specific natures or IVs were simply released into the wild— even if they were barely out of the egg. The little one darting to and fro, alone and confused, was obviously one of the undesirables. From his vantage point in the underbrush he watched her blindly flee deeper into the forest and disappear from his sight.

For a moment, he debated whether going after her— was it worth it in the end? The world was a cruel, harsh place. Things like this were commonplace. Not everyone had a place to go at the end of the day: case in point, the female Absol. Case in point, him. A sudden wave of curiosity overtook him: where did those without a place go to? He knew what his answer would be, but his circumstances were hardly normal. With that reasoning in mind, he silently left his hiding place and followed the young Absol’s trail, taking care to remain unseen and unheard.

---

She stopped her frantic race at the base of a tall tree and had tucked herself into a shallow hole by the roots. She sobbed quietly as she fearfully looked around at the sights and noises of the outside world. It was overwhelming: she had barely hatched when she was given a name— ‘Luna’— and her trainer had started studying her profile on their strange tablet-thing. The trainer looked at her, then at her profile, then back at her before going to the Pokémon Centre and releasing her into the wild.

Luna didn’t understand. What had she done wrong? Why was this happening to her? What had she done to deserve this? She felt the tears well up in her eyes and buried her face in her forepaws again. She wept for several silent minutes before she noticed another presence near her. A Zoroark had sat down next to her and was busy braiding several long pieces of grass together, weaving a few wildflowers into the design as he worked with his claws. Luna studied the newcomer closely. He wore a strange contraption on his snout: two circular pieces of transparent material framed by gold. He was clad in a large cloak that seemed to blend into the landscape and wore a vest that held several things in bulging pouches. He turned to look at her— Luna recoiled in fright but the stranger’s smile made her stop. He glanced back at his work and tied the two ends together, forming a little crown with the braided grass. With utmost delicacy, he placed the crown on Luna’s head and admired his handiwork.

The Absol looked up at him in wonder. “Are you my father?” she asked.

The Zoroark grimaced and briefly looked away before slowly shaking his head. He tucked his arms under his cloak and seemed to be debating something. Luna rose and took a step towards him. “Can I stay with you?” she said.

This question seemed to cause great distress with the older Pokémon. His grimace deepened and he removed his pince-nez, looking up at the sky as if it would give him answers. Again, Luna moved forward. “I think you’re nice,” she said softly.

He audibly sniffled at the comment and his eyes grew misty. Slowly— very slowly— he nodded. Luna padded over to him and looked at his teary face. This was a strange, strange ‘mon, but for some reason she felt safe with him. She settled in next to him and rested her head against his cloak.

---

And so they left, headed towards a new beginning for both of them.


((Not quite a puppy-- please forgive my liberal interpretation of the prompt.))

I wasn't referencing anything specifically with that line, though it's certainly possible that I'm just repeating something I read somewhere else. If he is quoting something, it's subconscious on my part, and thus Jehan's.

Jehan is quoting in the last line, correct? It sounds like Terry Prachett to me, but I could be mistaken.

--Key

Tomash and Peregin were walking around HQ for some reason when they saw a small dog wandering the hallways.

"Aww, look, a puppy!" Tomash said, picking up the lost-looking dog. "It's so cute"

"Do you not think that we should report a stray animal wandering about Headquarters?" asked Peregrin.

"Well, yeah, maybe eventually. But we could keep it until someone shows up to claim the poor thing.?"

"I am not certain that we have the resources to care for it. And it would violate the — no, never mind, that doesn't apply here."

"You've got a point there. We've already got a bunch of other stuff going on. But he's cute, and I think we can hold on to him until we find someone who wants to take him in."

"I think that would be a reasonable solution. And much better for the young thing. I cannot imagine that there are many sources of food in the corridors."

(( Not sure if this is any good. Also, I can't endings. ))

So, this ended up being not only rather more suggestive than I feel comfortable just posting to the Board, but also rather long (more than two pages in a word document). If you want to read it, the link is here - it's safe for work, but contains discussion of sex.

Our Orcish friend here is based on the Atasaya, a demon-creature of the Zuni people, in New Mexico (approximately = Mordor). It doesn't seem to be a religious figure or anything - it's basically a troll.

The orc has most of the features of the Atasaya - long straggly hair (which it pushes back with its bloodstained flint knife, making a red 'eye' on its forehead - very apt!), bulging yellow eyes, tusks, scales on its arms, horned knuckles... the main thing it lacks is the whole 'being gigantic' aspect. Honestly this should really be a troll, but Wikipedia's list of Native American Demons is only nine articles long. ;)

Its clothes are vaguely Apache, but honestly pretty generic: breechcloth and some sort of armour (leather or plant fibre), and a headband. The Eye is designed to look less European, more Native; I don't know how well that worked.

I've also sketched up Frodo (or Sam) in Orc gear. He can probably pass in the dark, provided you don't look too close - which is about accurate for the canon.

And Bag-end, there in the thumbnail. It's a Chinook winter house - a pit with a wood/grass roof over it. I've buried this one slightly into the side of the hill, which is an adaptation to using it as a permanent structure; it probably does extend out the back by this time, because more space is always welcome.

If anyone knows any better demons, I'd love to make a better Orc; this can be repurposed as a troll just by extending the scales.

hS

I aim to please.

Ajax throws a ragtag Fairy team together, gets third, is dubbed Oberon The Fairy King

"I think I'd go for a fighting team," Matthew said, absent mindedly popping a Pokéball to from it's small to large forms and back again. "Most of my favorite Pokémon are in that typing."

Levy pondered for a moment. "I would say... Water," she said. "Sure they might not get my attack bonuses, but I tend to work well with watery things."

"Dragon, full stop," Nickul said, not even looking up from his book. "I mean, I am mostly dragon myself."

Matthew nearly tore the RC's door off its hinges in his eagerness. "Ajax! Holy shpx!"

The beet red, stunned face of Levy and the rather ticked, though still red face of Ajax, who was unbuttoning Levy's shirt, was all Matthew saw before he slammed the door shut. "Just... check the Reddit when you're done," he yelled back into the RC.

He then punched out a text to Toby, over at DoSAT: Bruuuuuuuuh. You owe me 20 bucks.

(Since I haven't changed them from their original author's portrayal yet.)

—doctorlit is working on that interlude

The one problem I foresee is that Rowling did exactly the same thing, and is reviled for it. So, uh... anyone know about Native American demonesque figures who I can safely draw inspiration from? VixenMage?

hS

Feel free to use Marvin and Printworthy.

The fic apparently described the 10th Division moving the oin (“That would be the Ōin, a key-type thing from the non-canon DiamondDust Rebellion movie that controls the universe, and a very valuable item that the Gotei 13 gave everything to protect,” explained Lapis).
Wouldn’t it be better if you had a period after "the oin" and no parentheses enclosing Lapis’s explanation?

Then two more mini-Menos Grandes, masamoyto and Hitsogaya, showed up — and we're promptly portaled to the Adoption Agency.
Should be "were".

Take it from an Naruto fan!
Should be "a".

She grabbed the RA from Whitney and opened it to the Mini Adoption Agency.
She opened the Remote Activator? (Should be "a portal".)

Bayonetta stared after the portal as it closed, her guns lowering.
Not being a native speaker, I’m not sure whether this preposition can and should be used here.

HG

I really liked the pacing, too; it was fun to read.

((A/N: Obviously uncanonical, I have no Permission to write for the PPC.))

The plastic bottle spun around, periodically throwing droplets of ranch dressing onto eir legs. Agent Kebrdå used to be proud of feeling things more strongly than other people. Ey felt as if ey had access to a higher plane of understanding. Why wasn't everyone else crying at the end of "A Rambunctious Animal Travel" [rough translation from Eastern Venusian]? They must be missing out on something. But right now, if Kebrdå had one wish, ey would get rid of all that just to not be paralyzed in the center of the Cafeteria, crying over a spilled and broken bowlful of enchiladas and a spinning salad dressing bottle.