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Cautiously, Tirsaer peered into the room and, once he was positive that nothing was on fire (yet), entered. His partner, Ryni, followed, glaring at everyone and everything in sight.

The two made their way to the food-covered table, where Tirsaer grabbed a handful of cookies to munch on. "Hey, these're pretty good," he observed around a mouthful of crumbs.

Ryni, on the other hand, declined to touch any of the food. "Truly, Tirsaer, one should be wary of accepting nourishment from such an unreliable and uncertain source."

"Meh, it's Christmas. Try losing the paranoia, will ya?"

Which is pretty traditional PPC.

...promptly burst into another fit of giggles. She staggered towards the two and offered her hands.

"N-need aahahaha h-help up?" she snickered.

a bright flash distracted both Marcus and Cassie. The younger Agent nearly fell over and grabbed at Marcus for support, staring in the direction of the flash.

She took a second to register what had just happened, but once she did she spluttered, "LUX?"

The Slasher in question was holding a camera and wearing a huge grin. Panic setting in, Cassie lunged for it, but hadn't thought the move through and ended up falling over, dragging Marcus over with her and totally missing Luxury, who fled, giggling.

Looking over at the man she'd just been kissing, Cassie mumbled, "S'rry 'bout that."

Cookies for everyone!

Marcus, somehow, didn't see the mistletoe that seemed to appear over his head, focusing too much on the conversation he was having with Cassie. She'd apparently been recruited just before the Sue invasion, explaining why he hadn't met her before. She smiled and looked up, but just as he'd started to look to see what she saw, Cassie drunkenly said "Merry Christmas" to him and promptly pressed her lips to his in a kiss that caught him off guard before he could reply.

Taken aback for a second, Marcus couldn't decide whether to run away or go with the flow. Two different mindsets were grappling for his decision, especially the consideration of just how much older than Cassie he probably was. Still, after a couple seconds he relaxed and returned the kiss, moving his body closer to hers.

Don't most people find a room for this sort of thing? he couldn't help but think.

Meanwhile, at one of the snack tables, Zodfang looked up from the prodigious amount of food and drink he was wolfing down to see his partner in the crowd, a mistletoe over his head and kissing some random female Agent. His shoulders shook with the suppressed laughter as his attention turned to an Agent at his side and the grog in his cup. 'Oomies could be so strange.

Nume is from the 70s--not that it's terribly obvious.

Agent Suicide is ostensibly a historical figure from ancient Greece, though he comes most directly from the book "Gates of Fire."

Nurse Mirrad (who has yet to appear in a published story) is from the Babylon 5 universe, which means he sort of from the future.

I'm sure I remember reading about an agent from medieval times (or thereabouts) who had to adjust to all the technology, though I don't remember who that was.

~Neshomeh

Cassie considered it carefully, then shrugged. "Back in... um... March, I... think. Was aroun' for the Sues, 'nyway." She gave him what she thought was a dazzling smile and looked up at the mistletoe, which was probably affiliated with the Narrative Laws of Comedy, considering how it had conveniently turned up again.

"Merry Chris'mas," she added, and without further ado went up on tiptoes and kissed him.

Moving through the crowd of agents, partly doing his own thing and partly looking for Zodfang before the Ork curbstomped someone or something like that, Marcus wasn't payting attention and stumbled when someone walked straight into him. Getting his footing back and turning to face the newcomer, he saw a young woman, probably 19-ish, with blonde hair and glasses. Judging from how she spoke, she was very inebriated, but that wasn't a surprise.

"Hello," Marcus said, a friendly smile on his face. "Name's Marcus. Marcus Langston, I'm with the Department of Floaters. Don't think I know you, though. Were you recruited recently?"

Cassie, now well on the way to being very drunk, bumped into Marcus. Peering at him and nudging her glasses back up, she grinned. "Heya. 'm Cassie. D' I know you?"

Wonderful, another Voltaire convert.
What CD did you get?

And medieval-ish dresses are awesome. Mum made me one, but I have no place to wear it and that bothers me.

Happy holidays to you. =)

OOC: Didn't mean for the entire last part of it to be italicised, sorry. Some kind of glitch?

Zodfang, having decided to make his entrance with a mighty kick to the door, subsequently made his entrance as if he were a conquering king, confidently looking around as he strolled in, a wild grin baring his teeth.

"OI, 'OOMIES! DIS A PARTY OR WOT?!" he shouted, before immediately setting course for the food and drink tables.

Deciding to be a bit less conspicuous (and obnoxious) than his partner, Marcus simply walked into the room, closing the door behind him. A couple minutes after they had gotten back from that absurd double-mission and sent the report, the console had beeped again. Zodfang had been about to smash the damn thing, until they'd seen that it wasn't a mission. Instead, it was an invitation from Ansela Jonla, to a Christmas party. Agent Ansela had joined sometime during Marcus' suspension, but they'd both heard of her at least somewhat. It helped that she had a reputation, especially for supposedly keeping a second Armoury behind closed doors. Marcus hadn't been too keen on going, mostly due to the mission putting him in a sour mood. However, while Zodfang had no concept of Christmas, he did have a concept of wild partying, and practically dragged Marcus out of the RC. Being even less keen on having his arms ripped off than going to the party, he elected to simply go along with the eerily-jovial Ork.

Besides, the veteran agent thought. It's Christmas, I might as well have some fun.

That was what found him walking after his partner in the middle of a throng of Agents, all partying and enjoying themselves. There were some familiar faces, but a lot of them were people he didn't recognise. So many had died, retired, or been recruited in his year of absence that it wasn't surprising that he didn't know too many people he really noticed, but still somewhat saddening. Not that he'd let that ruin his mood.

"Yo, Marcus!"

The voice caught his attention, causing him to look to his left where a peculiar-looking Agent stood. He was a young man with long black hair, wearing wire framed glasses on his boyish face. There was a bit of black to his uniform, but most of it (including the hood) was red and yellow. Marcus couldn't help the small smile that appeared on his face; this was an Agent he did remember, and one that'd always amused him at that.

"Hello, agent Kalmer."

"Didn't think you were the type to go f'r these, man!" Kalmer laughed, clearly a bit tipsy. He'd always been strangely cheerful for someone who worked in the DAVD.

"Well, I am, sometimes. Why not? Figured, might as well have some fun if they chose Christmas to put me back in," Marcus replied, shrugging a little. "Anyway, I'll just go mingle, might get a drink. See you later, Kalmer, we oughta catch up with each other sometime, anyway."

"No w...worr...what'stheword? Worr...worries! Thassit! No worries, Marcus, sees ya!"

Stifling a laugh, Marcus left the drunk Agent to his own devices, seeing who he could run into. Besides, he had to keep Zodfang from hurting somebody.

Minis come to be? For certain continuums that don't already have minis how does it get decided? (I feel like I asked this question before, but I can't remember the answer and I can't find it on the board).

Are all the human agents, specifically the ones from the 'real world', from this time? Are there any, say, from the Victorian era? Or from the Roman Empire?

From my sister, who read the PPC ages ago and knows how much I love it. It's GREAT. A big, fat book with pictures on every page - claymores, sword-breakers, Indian punching knives... my parents were a little surprised that I was practically drooling over it. :p

That said, if anyone wants help clarifying a weapons or armour-based charge, let me know!

Sara thwapped him on the shoulder, unable to speak through laughter.

"Oh, shut up," the taller Agent muttered, and moved off to find some Bleepka. Sara slumped against a wall, shaking silently with mirth.

"'ello to you too, mate."

She patted him on the cheek, aiming carefully so as not to accidentally slap him. "Merry Christmas." She wandered off aimlessly around the room.

And then suddenly found himself kissing Cassie just as enthusiastically.

"'Ello, poppet," he mumbled when they broke apart, his cheeks still flaming red.

"Where's your partner then, mate?" She looked around and spotted Zach nearby. "Never mind." Wobbling over to Sara's partner, she gave the young man a huge grin. "So, how's you?"

She glanced up at the mistletoe that just happened to be right above them. "Christmas kiss then? 'Tis the season and all that?" Without waiting for a reply, she leaned over and gave him a rather enthusiastic kiss.

Might be a bit of a short post in that party, sorry, but I'm trying to focus on my mission.

I got an entire book about the history of the English language, which made me think of DTE.

Other things make me think of the PPC for rather obscure reasons: A Voltaire CD, because Lycaenion is the one who introduced him to me; A recording of Once More, With Feeling, because I'm currently working on a musical mission; and the Dr. Horrible DVD, because I first learned about it on the Board.

And a really pretty medieval-ish dress that makes me feel like I'm in LOTR...which doesn't have much to do with the PPC but I need to squee about it anyway because it's so COOL!

Merry Christmas, Happy Hanukkah, Joyous Yule, Happy Kwanzaa, et cetera! Glod bless us every one!

One moment she was talking with her partner about the proper amount of sugar that should be ingested, the next she was dragged onto the dance floor by a very tipsy Cassie.

"I...uh...meh, whatever."

A few seconds later Sara was singing Christmas carols at the top of her lungs, a bottle of Rhum in one hand.