Though, with staff shortages as they are (compared to badfic; there seem to be more agents than last year) I doubt someone would get kicked out of the PPC for taking on a mission before getting their membership card.
Or patch.
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Amusing not-mission by
on 2009-02-26 11:15:00 UTC
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's Far as I know... by
on 2009-02-26 08:10:00 UTC
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There's only been one mission into M*A*S*H before: Through Time. And there is no mention of any minis in that.
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Mini question. by
on 2009-02-26 07:39:00 UTC
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Hello, everyone. Writing my second mission right now, got the fic and everything, but I just wanted to check with the people of the Board; does anyone know if M*A*S*H has an established Mini yet? I don't see any on the List, but I thought I'd ask to be safe.
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interested... by
on 2009-02-26 06:35:00 UTC
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Could you just email me all of them? I'll try and take a look when I have free time.
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First try by
on 2009-02-26 03:45:00 UTC
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Okay, I know I have a long way to go before receiving the green light: I have read only a small part of the Original Series and I joined the forum only two days ago. But as I said, Agent Cal is very enthusiastic about his job. He has little patience and a short attention span, and he holds a very high opinion of himself and his capabilities. But in truth, it's mostly me who just can't wait before starting.
Since I don't have the authorization to post official PPC missions, consider this as nothing more than a practice, not an actual mission. Please tell me how to improve.
The following, an assassination operation, is based on this badfic. Only the first page is important.
http://www.fanfiction.net/s/2165630/1/BlackRoseoftheSea
__________________________________________________________
Cal was busy putting wallpaper in his brand-new office in the PPC headquarters when the console on his desk emitted a strident BEEEEP. A badfic with a particularly blatant Mary Sue had just been detected in the Potterverse, as the young agent saw when he looked at the screen. (Technically, Cal was not yet an agent, but "Agent Cal" just sounded cool.)
He wondered what to do about it. He had joined the PPC no more than a few days ago and had only begun his training yesterday. He had not even read the full 300-page protocol and all the old mission reports, and though he understood the basics well enough, he was strictly forbidden from going on an operation (let alone a solo operation) until he was ready. If he went, he could get fired before even becoming an agent. On the other hand, everyone knew that nearly all secret agents, cops and detectives routinely had to act against their superiors' orders to solve a case or stop an atomic bomb. If Cal wanted to be taken seriously as a PPC agent, he was expected to Go Rogue at least once; the sooner the better.
Eagerly, he went to his wardrobe and put on his grey trenchcoat and fedora. Anyone with a fedora, be he a gangster, an investigator or an archaeologist, obviously meant business. In the huge mirror he had recently installed, Cal saw that he looked every bit the sexy badass he fancied himself as. But something was missing... Ah, yes, the eyepatch or sunglasses. Which looks the most hardcore? He tried both at the same time, but it was slightly uncomfortable (not to mention silly-looking). In the end he settled for the eyepatch: it suited much better to his pulp detective style. He would keep the sunglasses for Sundays, when he wore his MiB suit and tie.
With the console, Cal generated a portal to the Potterverse, where a Sue may already have started her vile work to destroy the fragile continuum of J. K. Rowling's fifth and best novel. According to the report, this Sue who went by the name of Marina Rose Black was the daughter of Voldemort and the adoptive heir of the Black family.
Stepping into the portal, Agent Cal emerged in a dusty and dimly-lit place that looked like the living room of an old house. He was alone here, and it appeared to be the middle of the night. On a wall was the family tree of the Blacks. He was at Grimmauld Place, then. There was probably no better place to meet someone who called herself the heir of the Black family. Cal tried to find the best spot in the room to hear and see what was going on.
Suddenly he felt something creep along his neck. With a muffled cry of disgust, he threw to the ground a small hairy creature with very sharp teeth that had somehow managed to get under the collar of his trenchcoat when he inadvertently got too close from the doxy-infested curtains. Nasty vermin: if he remembered correctly, doxys were venomous.
After a minute of silent waiting, he distinctly heard the front door of the house creak open not too far from there. The song-like voice of the Mary Sue resounded in the corridor:
"Baba! Kreacher! I'm home."
The old house elf and the painting of Sirius' mother responded immediately, greeting Marina Rose Black warmly. The fifteen-year-old Sue, coming back from her vacation at the beach, acted as if she owned the place — and indeed, she did. For some reason, none of the sleeping members of the Order of the Phoenix heard her noisy entrance. She went upstairs and remained out of Cal's earshot for a long while. All of a sudden, angry shouts came from the second floor: Sirius Black had finally met her, and they were having a heated argument about whose house this was. A few minutes later, Molly Weasley's voice was defending Sue against Sirius' understandable burst of rage. The shouts eventually ceased.
Some time later, Molly and Sirius walked down the stairs and entered the living room. The young PPC agent hid behind a couch, wearing his fedora very low as if it could make him harder to see. Marina soon came into the room and attempted to explain her presence here to the two canon characters. Before long, Albus Dumbledore's head conveniently appeared in the fireplace to tell Sirius and Molly that the house did indeed belong to Her Sueness. As Agent Cal crept closer, he heard the headmaster of Hogwarts say something that made him feel like he had just swallowed broken glass:
"...she will be the one who decides the end of the great war, it is all placed in her hands and I'd rather keep her here and safe before we have to allow her near the dark."
Cal almost groaned aloud. What is wrong with Harry, anyway, that makes suethors think he is unworthy to be the one who defeats Voldemort? Trembling with outrage, he waited for everyone to leave the room and go to sleep.
Half an hour later, the ancestral home of the Blacks was silent again. Moving like a shadow, Agent Cal went in search of Sue's bedroom. When he found it, he quietly closed the door behind him — there was enough moonlight to see everything. Marina Rose Black was sound asleep in her bed, her blue-black hair framing her somewhat Asian features. First step: master her, so he can tell her the list of her crimes against canon before dealing with her. Cal took off his fedora and pressed it on Sue's face to smother her. She thrashed wildly — that is, until the young agent sat on her body to keep her immobile. With a wince, he heard two of her ribs crack noisily under his weight. After a minute Marina stopped moving, unconscious.
Cal firmly tied the girl to her bed and stuffed a piece of cloth into her mouth to keep her silent. Then he woke her up by poking the broken ribs with a finger. The Mary Sue's eyes flew open to stare at him with surprise and terror.
"I'm Agent Cal," he said, taking on a menacing voice that was perhaps a little too theatrical, as he showed her his membership card of the Dungeons & Dragons club (he did not have his PPC card yet). "You must have heard of me?" The Sue shook her head. Cal was a bit disappointed. He went on solemnly: "In the name of the Protectors of the Plot Continuum, I charge you with disrupting the canon, interfering with the character of Dumbledore and being a Mary Sue. As jury, judge and executioner, I declare you guilty and hereby sentence you to death. Execution is to take place immediately."
Cal's gloved hand slipped into one of the bottomless pockets of his trenchcoat.
"I have good news and bad news. The good news is that, as a typical pulp hero, I can't hit a girl." His tone then became apologetic: "The bad news is that I am quite resourceful."
He pulled from his pocket four large doxys he had found in the curtains. While the Mary Sue writhed helplessly against her bonds, he put one doxy on her face, one on her throat, one on her chest and one under her pants. With clinical detachment, he watched her squirm and emit muffled cries for nearly ten minutes before she finally succumbed to over thirty vicious bites on every part of her body. Her dead eyes stared at the ceiling in mute horror.
Satisfied, Cal untied the twisted corpse and dragged it to the kitchen downstairs. With some difficulty, he somehow succeeded in stuffing it into the pantry, though he had to make extensive use of the bone saw lying on the table. Since Marina did not have much meat on her, Kreacher would probably manage to get rid of her body in only a few stews or roasts. His task done, Agent Cal opened another portal and quit the now much cleaner Potterverse.
.
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My drawing style is quite recognisable ... by
on 2009-02-26 00:42:00 UTC
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... so maybe having a webcomic connected to my current online self is okay and difficult to avoid anyway. I just won't mention it openly on either the comic or my other accounts if I get published for real. Would that work?
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Bonjour! by
on 2009-02-25 22:31:00 UTC
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I like your intro. Quite creative. And Cal promises to be a pretty amusing Agent.
Anyway, greetings. *tips her Hat* I'm Lycaenion, commonly found practising my evil laughter, torturing people with useless zoology or Star Trek information, or forming weird conspiracy theories.
I do hereby give you chocolate, an easily concealable weapon of your choice, and a towel. You'll probably need all of them.
(Oh, and for more completely useless information, I've been studying French in school for the past four years. The fact that you're a native speaker is rather awesome in my opinion.)
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Re: Probably you should. Might help. by
on 2009-02-25 18:38:00 UTC
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Problem is, they only exist on one messageboard now (the author pulled them from MediaMiner in the course of a major wankfest), so there are no summaries at the moment.
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Probably you should. Might help. (nm) by
on 2009-02-25 15:43:00 UTC
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What? How can you do this? This is outrageous, it's unfair. (nm by
on 2009-02-25 12:24:00 UTC
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AK-47s! And a bottle of Anti-Lustin! (nm) by
on 2009-02-25 09:21:00 UTC
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Help! Story Search (OT) by
on 2009-02-25 07:30:00 UTC
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Today a fragment of a story I read a long time ago popped into my head and now I'm trying to track it down. If anyone can help me I would be incredibly grateful.
This story goes something like this, as near as I can recall: the main character, a boy, for some reason has a book of his grandfather's that two groups of people are looking for (the good guys and the bad guys). They both try to enlist his help (I think via dreams) and he decides to help the good guys, of course. I think he spends the rest of the story evading the bad guys to get the book to the good guys.
That's all I can recall. I'm positive it wasn't a dream and I really really want to find it! Sorry for the long, rather bizarre post.
Helen
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Re: здравств
by
on 2009-02-25 04:27:00 UTC
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"Will we be seeing you in the DBS at all? We're always looking for new recruits who can handle the squick."
I've survived (if barely) the unspeakable abomination called C***b***n, but I don't think I will gladly renew such a mind-scarring experience. I'll decide after I've read a few DBS mission reports; maybe it's fun.
Thanks for the bottle of wine, it makes an excellent blunt weapon. I'll put it to good use.
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Re: Newcomer by
on 2009-02-25 04:14:00 UTC
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Cal stuffed the various gifts in the bottomless pockets of his trenchcoat. He turned his attention to the bucket, and for a moment he wondered how the heck he was supposed to deposit his sanity in it. After some thought, he realized that wondering this was a sure sign that he was still sane, and thus that he needed to get rid of his sanity — a thing he did not know how to do. But conversely, if he understood just HOW to do it, then he would certainly be insane — but then he would not need to deposit his sanity in the bucket. Thus, he was faced with a paradox. But, if he were insane, he could choose to ignore the paradox and deposit his sanity in the bucket ANYWAY. This led to a second paradox, since he was not insane and as a result did not know how to get over paradoxes. But if he were insane...
*Bzzzrt*
A few millions of his neurons suddenly went dead under the strain. When Cal regained his senses after a brief blackout, he found that he now understood how to deposit his sanity in the bucket, and promptly did. There was not a lot of it — the Wargs would still be hungry. But there would always be plenty of Mary Sues for them to eat.
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First plover! by
on 2009-02-25 03:51:00 UTC
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"Should he be based in a TARDIS or a Response Center?" asked the receptionist to the daisy.
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Heh. by
on 2009-02-25 02:06:00 UTC
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Okay...I feel like a doofus. That better?
Anyway, I'm in the process of re-reading TOS, working on a tentative mission idea, and fact-checking myself against the wiki. Should I toss the ones I don't want to touch up on the Unclaimed Badfic list? Because, as I stated, anyone who wants them is welcome to them.
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hmm. apparently the Board can't handle Cyrillic (nm) by
on 2009-02-25 02:01:00 UTC
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здравств
by
on 2009-02-25 02:00:00 UTC
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First, allow me to put on my beta hat and pull some faces.
Well, actually only one face, but ah well. Every time you've had someone's actions and then their words, you've separated by a line, rather than the usual two. This really isn't necessary. The speech doesn't have to be on a new line as soon as it starts, so long as it's on a separate line to the previous speaker's.
*throws beta hat aside*
Greetings!
Will we be seeing you in the DBS at all? We're always looking for new recruits who can handle the squick. Either way, welcome. We could have really used you about six months ago, you know.
Oh yeah, that, er, gift thing. *hands over cheap and nasty bottle of wine* Enjoy!
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No, you aren't. *hugs* (nm) by
on 2009-02-25 01:27:00 UTC
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Re: Newcomer by
on 2009-02-25 01:26:00 UTC
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By now, Cal was surrounded by a small crowd of people, who all seemed rather happy to see him. Some of them, however, were making the expressions of dismay common to those who have encountered a short person with bony elbows and a vicious mindset. Mad Maudlin (for it was indeed she) pushed Makari aside and stood in front of Cal, looking him up and down- although the heavy eyeliner made it hard to tell exactly where she was looking. She grinned slowly. "Nice hat. Welcome...to the PPC!" This was accompanied by a menacing laugh. She continued, "I'm Maudlin Hart, although you can call me Mad Maudlin, or just Maudlin. Anything else will result in pain. Please, deposit your sanity in the provided bucket; I assure you it will not be needed here."
Cal looked at the bucket. It was blue, and the words "Warg Fodder" were written on the side. He could understand why this person was called mad. "I-"
"DID I TELL YOU TO SPEAK?" Maudlin shrieked. "I don't think so! But you can speak anyway. And here is some chai tea, and here is a shiny crystal thing, and here is some Suenicorn jerky, and they are all for you!" She handed Cal these items, then bowed low and disappeared into the crowd.
What a strange person, Cal thought.
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Would I be able to post about it here? by
on 2009-02-25 00:29:00 UTC
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Since the old posts get deleted after a while?
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Tell your online friends you wrote the book by
on 2009-02-24 23:57:00 UTC
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But then don't tell anyone else online? Like, don't post it publicly? Quite honestly, the internet is so huge that unless you make a point of telling people and they actually go out of their way to look for you, it's unlikely that other RL people are going to connect you to your fanfic. At least, that's what I think. Same with your webcomic, just don't link to your fanfic wherever you host your comic.
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Padawan you still are. Join the council you may not. (nm) by
on 2009-02-24 23:41:00 UTC
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