The PPC Posting Board - Latest posts

I'm pretty sure Karen passes basic reading comprehension, and K'eth's post didn't leave much to the imagination.

Her question was pretty clearly whether the 'situation' Skarm mentioned was an ongoing thing which people were expected to be aware of, and this was just the latest facet of. To which the answer seems to be: no, this is new, at least as far as the Board is aware.

hS

Voyd, who's been around for a decent while now, just got banned from the Internet (basically) by his dad. It's kinda like any other person vanishing from the Board because of RL reasons, only in this case some people reacted to it like it's the end of the world.

Desdendelle slid a plate of poutine to the Librarian and placed an orange bottle of Cointreau before the Time Lord, then took his own place.
The Time Lord glanced at him with something akin to gratefulness on his face and applied himself to his food.
Des sipped from his tea. "I'm afraid I don't know you guys' names...?" he told Chris and Ami.

"Thank you...I think." Ami sat down closer to the outside edge, so she could leave quickly if things got too uncomfortable.

Chris sat next to her and began eating one of his sandwiches. "Ami, you ever tried one of these?" he said between bites. "Grilled cheese is the second-best diner food in the multiverse."

"I don't think I have. Would I be right to assume that first place goes to your mom's burgers?"

"Eeyup. Mom's the reason I like spicy food." Chris smiled fondly and turned to their host. "So you're partnered with Desdendelle? What kinda place is he from, anyway? I heard he gives carnivorous tea to any new arrival he meets."

I honestly share the sentiments most others had - it was very reminiscent of TOS, what with similar sort of character dynamics and dialogue and whatnot.
Which was great, by the way. Loved that dialogue. They're snarky as hell, but clearly mates. Something about it all feels so classic, y'know?
Perhaps it's just because of the aforementioned TOS similarities, but there's a type of chemistry with the two characters that I've seen before, and that I haven't seen in a bit, and it's nice to have that sort've thing popping up again.

And: good on you for finishing this! Tenacity, and all that.

Here is the profile for my magus.

Now I'm working on the RP side, but, gameplay-wise, is the character viable?

Sarplasm quickly followed that statement. "I didn't have the opportunity to thank them. But they're so shy, I have to use use traacking spell after tracking spell to find them. And because of that, I ended up hexing much of their gear in the locals I can find."

"Fun fact, she really want to thank them for the opportunity to train with thaumaturgy while she's tracking them," Richard said.

"You didn't need to say that."

'Cept in my mind and maybe a couple Gdoc files, but that's pretty brave and accepting of you, to allow nonexistent people in your Sim city game.

I always was annoyed at the lack of nonexistent characters in media.

Instead of a castle filled with ghosts, the castle is a ghost.

'Makes me wonder what the hell they do in FicPsych all day.' Finch said, sarcasm circuits buzzing with overpowering energy. ''I-m S86FNC-11630, he-s Bernhard Bingard Bingle, and we-re in Building Maintenance. We-re very familiar with your department. Especially what it does to its hallways. And what those hallways then try doing to us.

'You should appreciate them more, Finch,' Bingle said, pallid face displaying nothing short of innocent sincerity. 'Almost half of our workload comes from them, you know.'

'Half of our injuries, too, Bingle.'

Bingle shrugged with the kind of nonchalance only a man without a working nervous system could shrug with.

'Now, how on earth did an entire forest get possessed? I remember the last time that sort of thing happened.'

'I remember the hallways from then, too.'

'Oh, absolutely terrible,' Bingle agreed.

She then looked at William, who just shook his head.

"Don't ask me."

"And you knew Rina? That's cool. Vania met her once—Uh—"

Doc's words were interrupted by Vania giving a goofy chuckle under her breath. "Yes, Doc, I did meet Rina, didn't I? That one time."

"Oh, jeeze."

"Specifically the time you got yourself imaginary-drunk on butterbeer."

"Vania, please."

"Because you're such a lightweight, a pixie affected by feather fall could crush you underneath herself."

"Can we not do this, please?"

Randa sighed. "Okay, maybe not. Um... okay, you know Louisville, Kentucky? Where the Kentucky Derby is? I'm from a town just across the Ohio River to the north. Rina... the Aviator and I were friends from high school."

She straightened up (which was accompanied by a clinking sound) and joined in with Shamrock's highly alliterative speech, creating a full conversation's worth of repetition.

"Oh, boy," said Doc. "At least she's not singing. So, um, Randa, where were you from, back on Earth?"

"Agents of the agency with agency! Ooh, do you think the agents have argent aegises for their agencies?"

"Oh, now you guys have done it," Randa groaned as Shamrock continued on in a similar vein to herself. "I once heard her say 'Rubber baby buggy bumpers' to herself for an hour straight. I still can't hear any of those words without getting her voice stuck in my head."

"We're not being controlled by anything. We have self agency. Plus, so many agents are from World One. How would it make sense for us to be real, and then suddenly enter a word world and become characters controlled by an outside author?

Vania tilted her head. "Self agency, yes. Agents with agency." She turned to Doc. "Agency agents."

Doc closed his eyes. "Ugh."

"She's not really one for philosophical questions," Randa said, nodding at her partner. "'Course, I find that stuff interesting. I remember Rina telling me about some gossip she heard one day; something about some Swan's Egg or something. Rumors that the PPC really is written after all."

Vania rolled her eyes. "Oh, boy, here we go again."

Doc continued. "I don't know if authors actually make the word worlds do anything. Or at least, I don't like to think that. It removes some of a story's oomph if you only think of it in terms of a constructed story. I think all the worlds are real as World One. Or, if they aren't real, then World One is a word world, too. I don't see why it would be different from all the others. It could have an author, too."

"Just so long as HQ isn't a word world," Vania said tiredly. "'Cause then you're talking about authors using characters to stop other authors' characters from harming the characters of another group of authors. And that's dumb."

He tried to reassure Finch "I'm not insane. Or at least I think I'm not. You can never be entirely sure about such things. I don't remember having the Book thrown at me..." He trailed off into thought, and then realized he wasn't sure who he was talking to. So he said "I'm Agent Peregrin, and my partner over there is Tomash. We are members of the Ord­— Department of Mary Sues. Who are you? I don't believe we have met."

Meanwhile, Tomash was talking with Bingle. "Well, the trees themselves were pretty ordinary trees, maybe a bit on the gloomy side. I mean, kids' show, so you can't have anything too scary. But the Stu was sort-of controlling them, and he apparently didn't want to be exorcised, so the trees sort of started leaning in on us and trying to thwack us with their branches. Peregrin was busy putting on a really showy exorcism —"

Peregrin cut in."— My exorcism technique was not needlessly 'showy'. Such occasions call for a certain formality."

"But you don't need a whole long chant. You just wave a bell around and yell stuff about Faust. That's what everyone else did, anyway."

"I still hold that banishments require a certain weight."

"Yeah, so anyway. Peregrin was doing his thing, and there was a tree getting pretty close, so I had to put the bell down and hit the thing a few times. Then I think it realized that attacking agents wasn't a good idea."

Finch grumbled, twisting a last knob, which served to shut down the rumbling, clicking, smoking and impending explosion all at once.

'You lot had better not go insane and kill me, Finch muttered, totally prepared for hasty escape if needed. He murmured things under his breath about his plate, and how he already had heaps of things on it, and how everyone else thought they had it rough.

'Oh, it's quite regular, actually. Not as expensive as you might think. Now, attacked by trees?' Bingle said. 'What kind? What happened? I've done that before, you know.' He closed his burger and took a bite out of it.