The PPC Posting Board - Latest posts

So we were just talking in the Discord about why newbies keep showing up here and that got me curious about how active this community's cornerstone -- PPC content -- has been over the years, and whether there's been any actual change. I couldn't bring up the numbers, but maybe someone can? Maybe number of missions posted per year, number of canon pieces period posted per year, authors active per year, etc. etc. or however you wana arrange the data.

Yes, good chapter! I could barely look away from the screen! And I love that all four champions wound up helping each other out. Competitions are fine, but I prefer seeing teamwork more than competitiveness. I hope that attitude carries forward through the final task!

Oh, and just as Harry and Draco were letting things get back to normal, and trying to pretend the Yule Ball didn’t happen . . . “Since when was I the one you’d sorely miss?” Tee hee hee hee!

So yes, an excellent chapter, good feels all around, no shenanigans from the Knights trying to sabotage the event*, everything is positive and friendly and—say, what are these final six paragraphs doing here? Guess I’d better read them and—

THE BEETLE

the beetle

And, oh no, this is so cursed, but it popped into my head and now it’s the whole Board’s problem:
♪They got the cold, frigid lake
skin with the scale
They stalk through the kelp without fail
Hit that lake floor
next thing you know
It’s Grindylow-low-low-low-low-low-lows♪

—doctorlit, something something the beetle

*Except now that I type this, there was, wasn’t there? The figure Harry saw diving into the far side of the lake did something to make the Grindylows more aggressive, didn’t they? Did they give the monsters Harry’s scent through the missing socks?

So I came across this wiki through TV Tropes and found the ideas to be very interesting. I've always liked the idea of parodic Mary Sues, and have had concepts floating around in my head for years. So seeing all of this developed metafiction about Mary Sues was a pleasant surprise to say the least.

Now, to introduce myself. I am a little socially inept and have trouble communicating things at times. But I am an impulse-driven puddle of thoughts. I often have random story ideas in my head, though I've never been able to finish more than a couple thousand words at a time. I find it easiest to keep myself together through online roleplay, as my improvisation isn't completely out of place there.

I like metafictional works such as Ensign Sue Must Die, as well as some fantasy works (I remember enjoying Upside-Down Magic when I was younger). I also like monsters. I really like monsters. The vast majority of my characters are monsters, often dragons. And many of them are also shapeshifters, including my persona to an extent.

I've been planning on getting better at drawing to create a webcomic of some sort (I am terrible at descriptions), but I can never seem to finish more than the occasional impulse drawing - or drawing I accidentally spend too much effort on. Only time will tell when I manage to create drawings that I think are not complete flitter.

Anyways, that's the end of my introduction now. Don't forget to paint your pet Sazari with nontoxic glitter.

As the title suggests, neither of these are missions, but they're at least PPC writings to a degree. Both set in the past, in fact!

Starting off, here's the short First Contact. It's a rewrite of my very first piece of PPC writing - the Permission Request prompt for 'your agents first meet.' I figured it was worth canonizing at some point, so I gave it a little polish and let it fly.

And here's Years Prior, set even farther in the past, where a Suvian stumbles into the Cafeteria at the height of the Mary Sue Invasion. It also serves as an introduction to a couple of non-Action folks I might write more of in the future, plus a look at what Matterhorn was like earlier in his long, long career.

Anyways, hope you enjoy!

That's so nice to hear! Nothing against the episodic mission, but I definitely like an overarching storyline. Glad you're interested in where this is going!

Those sound like fun theories, though!

—doctorlit on lunch break

thanks Z!

-Valentine, who’s about to take a nap

As old as the LotR Basic Charge List by NenyaQuende (which I presume to be the original).

Perhaps DRAT was one of the first departments to split from the Admin Department, and then got broken up further? Or maybe, in parallel with real life, it was simply the pseudonym of a single archivist trying to make her task sound more official? {= ) IDK.

~Neshomeh

You guys are NOT old enough to be on here, how did u talk some rando into borrowing their account anyway? And u really thought our moms WOULDNT find out?? Have you MET our moms??

I don't know if Raen even knows about One Piece anyway, but I guess the story isn't BAD, tho? But like get a beta, srsly, come ON. Do u want GrammarBootCamp cuz this is how u get GrammarBootCamp.

(( This is definitely not the FfV username of Henry Robinson, who is definitely too cool to write fanfic and may or may not entirely understand what "ponce" means. ))

Ummmm I didn't know about that. KIND OF regerting signing up at this point but my brother insisted.

no we didnt

Yes you did you said oh it's such a good idea we should sign up.

no wasnt me maybe it was

Don't use names here! We are Glycoside Party and that's IT.

im not a party im a halfelf

Immediately upon remembering that recolor.me actually has Shinsengumi uniforms (le shock), I went to create three new avatars for the agents appearing in this mission.

If this drought doesn't end soon, the Colorado River, and the hydroelectric dams it powers, have a life span in the double-digit years left. But don't worry: we're still using more water on crops to feed livestock than on crops to feed people! Oh, and we're watering all the golf courses of course; can't just ruin the rich boomers' game over a water shortage, after all! Can you imagine if old white people had to play a game on fake grass?! That would be so disrespectful to them!

Ooooooooh, I assumed Skeeter had observed the same interaction with Bagman and the goblins that Harry, Ron and Draco had. Woops!

—doctorlit, daydreaming of golf courses getting reclaimed by nature (after all, golf has always been a javelina's game, amirite?)

it seems funny enough to warrant one.

[Stares in dumping raw sewage direct to rivers]

But that, at least, is probably amenable to magical correction.

hS

https://www.plotprotectors.org/posts/176192

And welcome!

~Z, in a bit of a rush

Um that's nothing lol, hq is just being silly and messing with how many of the Words r showing don't work about it

Thanx for reading!!!!!!! ~*~dw~*@~

[[Frantically mimicking DuskWater's previous signatures because this is Of Course actually her using her account to post One Piece crossover fanfic starring Ilraen the Cool Uncle... XD ~Z]]

Like that sounds totally awesome but it's like...a whole other story

Right so Miss DuskWater says to tell you please that she really likes the idea you've laid out and she might write that separate from what we're doing but what were doing is for a whole nother canon so don't worry everything's fine

But also Ilraen is awesome so you should definitely stick around and keep reading our story to!!! But maybe we can have [[help me, what the heck would these kids call Dafydd - you know what, there are up to 6+ of them involved in this, I bet there are multiple correct answers]] Agent Illian make a cameo too at some point because miss duskwater says you're like a bnf here? So that's apparently a big deal? Anyway, he could totally come in and see something on fire, that would be really cool

Anyway!!!!! This is about Ilraeb in a REALLY COOL SHOW called one piece where they all want to find a bunch of treasure that this one scary pirate xalled Gold Roger hid all in one piece and now everyone wants to get it but they can't find it ..

Anyway you should totally watch the show is awesome and like. Stick around and keep reading so you can get to know ilraen too and also who knows maybe you'll think he's awesome too!!!!!!!!!

[[XD Aren't you? It would be very cute. There could end up being a little parents' book fanfic club, though I could see the poor kids getting really embarrassed if they found out...depending on the kid, anyway.

Also, I love how thoroughly JayBird was able to misread that. It really is kind of tempting to write a tiny amount of her version - we'll see if I get there! ~Z]]

I'm a sucker for spinoffs that feel like they're telling a story (something I hope to do one day lol) and this definitely delivers! I like the characters, I like the banter, and I'm interested to see where it's all leading up to - especially that bit at the end. Fun stuff!

considering how i’m still somewhat new to ppc :b how do the badfic games work? how do i join? do you need any permission or already created agents to join? i haven’t written anything that’s ppc canon :b

Louie wanted me to tell you he couldn't understand it all that well, though. Could use more footnotes to explain, maybe.

(CW: contains violence.)

---

The Narnian mainland came into view as John was carried through the sky, waves of green hills and forest beneath a sea of darkening clouds.

The wraith set into a dive, dragging John behind it like a living wrecking ball, before using the momentum to swing a glittery arm and send him flying. He slammed into the bunker hard enough to make a crater in the metal wall, a cloud of dust billowing out from the impact.

Flying down after him, the wraith loomed over John in an enormous black-glitter silhouette that blotted out the sun, which was already muted by the heavy clouds filling the sky. Before John could get back up, the wraith attacked.

Its mass rippling like a living black wave, a giant fist formed from its center and swung - John was slammed between the wraith’s fist and the bunker wall with a dreadful crunch. The wall caved, then shattered into solid steel shards as his body broke through from the impact, tumbling across the bunker interior.

With an echoing screech, the wraith shot through the hole to catch up to him mid-flight. It swung its giant glittery fist in an overhead sweep that slammed John straight to the metal floor in another massive crater, more concrete and steel sent flying.

The debris had barely begun to clear before John braced his arms against the floor to pull himself upright.

”NO!” The wraith slammed another fist down onto him, driving him further into the cratered floor. Then it pulled back up, only to punch down again. And again, and again, and again.

There was no cheap power thrown out, no mystical combat arts or perfectly-planned strategies. There was just raw, hate-filled Power imbued into every heavy strike, the soul-gripping rage of a broken monster denied its fantasy.

Small cracks formed across John’s visor. Red-lit words appeared in the corner of his HUD: WARNING - ARMOR INTEGRITY FAILING. His world shook, images doubling, tripling, as the shadowy fists slammed down harder and faster. A crackling, static-like film appeared over his vision.

Finally, the wraith’s rage seemed to subside. It rose up to something as close to a standing position as its glittery, shapeless mass would allow, most of its black hands retracting back into its body. One arm was left out, a spindly one tipped with a bony-fingered hand. Said arm stretched down to John’s prone form, tracing a thin finger up against his armored chin.

”Now that I think of it, I could use a new body…” it said, voice uncharacteristically quiet and pensive. For a moment a thin, black tongue formed from the glitter and licked nonexistent lips, before retreating back into the wraith’s featureless face. “Yes… this body will work perfect—”

There was a soft flumph sort of sound, rather like a pillow being fluffed out, and the side of the wraith’s misty head warped inward. A second later, its glittery mass roiled back to normal, pushing out the tiny pebble that had been thrown at it. With a quiet growl, it turned to the side where the rock had come from.

A few meters away, Molly stood, snout raised in an attempt to look defiant. “I - I have a lot more where that came from, Mister Wraith!” she squeaked. With that, she pulled out her Neuralyzer, squeezed her eyes shut, and fired.

FLASH!

The wraith simply floated, staring blankly at her. Not wasting any time, Molly started reading from her charge list.

“Okay, Mister Wraith! We’re from the Protectors of the Plot Continuum, and you have a lot of charges:

Bringing very tone-clashing buildings and technology into Narnia, making hordes of minions with almost no personality, having said bits do nothing except follow orders and worship you…"

She took a quick moment to catch her breath, then continued. "Twisting canon to make yourselves look good, acting like perfect heroes when you’re even mean to your ‘friends,’ using a canon as a punching bag for World One issues that don’t even work as an analogy—"

Another breath. She flipped a page, quickly lifting a paw to adjust her glasses.

"Not even planning out your rebellion beyond the ‘hurt them all’ step, trying to kill PPC Agents, and for reminding me of my old partner! For all this, we have to stop you!”

John looked at Molly after her last charge, trying to figure out what she meant by that. Then he re-focused his attention as a wide grin appeared on the Sue-wraith’s spectral, glittery face.

“That was it? Just some mere emotional words? That was almost as pathetic as trying to pull a mind trick on me with that little light-up glowstick.” The wraith laughed, a cold and harsh sound that echoed through the air far more than it should have. “Oh, you’re adorable. I’ll make your death qui—”

Taking advantage of the distraction, John pulled up his rifle and blasted the wraith’s grin clean off its face and its face off of its body in a spray of glitter and mist. Screaming, the wraith seemed to shimmer in place, forcibly trying to keep itself together.

Stepping forward, John stomped down on its middle, pinning it to the dirt. The glittery spirit flailed about, trying to turn to mist, to slip out from the boot and reform elsewhere, but it found it simply… couldn't. Its own form, its Power, the Words it strung together to fuel its very being, were no longer responding.

John held up his free arm, aimed a fist at the wraith, and shook his wrist. With a soft, almost polite ding, a rusty, jagged buzzsaw sprouted from the back of the gauntlet and began to spin.

A buzzsaw roar, a downward swing, and the monster's glittery body was cleaved neatly in half. The halves shook, the wraith screamed again, and, with a deafening shockwave of glitter, it exploded.

Molly raised her charge list in defense as the wave of glitter blasted towards her - then she opened them again, realizing nothing had hit her. Instead, it looked like everything had frozen. The air was polluted with black glitter.

Before her eyes, the enormous Suvian military bunker crumbled. Walls fell, rusting and decaying centuries in the span of seconds, turning to dust before they hit the ground. The indents where the bunker foundations used to be filled back in with grass, the soil rising up until it looked like nothing had ever touched them.

Even the floating spiderweb of cracked reality John had punched into existence earlier was fixing itself. The long cracks unmade themselves, seeming to shrink in towards the center of the mass, before it too disappeared into nothing.

Then time moved again - a rush of wind made Molly clutch her charge list tightly to her chest as she sat down.

John hadn’t been frozen in place like his partner, but he had still been mesmerized by the restoring reality. Even with time and space back to normal, he kept staring at the grassy hill where the bunker had been.

A short silence followed, before Molly spoke up. “...Is the wraith gone?”

The silence answered her question. John kept staring at the now-normal hill.

Molly raised a tentative paw. “Hey, Mister John? Are you okay?”

John turned to look at her, and took an audible breath.

He had no one to speak to back on his Earth, and as such he hadn’t used his throat for years. It took effort to force the sound from his mouth and through his visored helmet.

“Thank you,” he said. His voice was rumbly, groaning, like a heavy metal fence creaking open after centuries of collecting rust and cobwebs.

Molly blinked, stunned. “You talk?” she squeaked, before catching herself. “Oh, uh, I mean— you’re welcome!”

John nodded back. Not sure if there was anything left to say, Molly cleared her throat.

“Well… it was messy, but I think we’ve met mission protocol!”

Pulling the tiny checklist from her shirt pocket, she opened it up and skimmed through. “No torture, check… enough charges read before punishment… yep! All good!”

She closed the list and packed it away again. “I think we should go before Aslan shows up. He likes to come out at the end of missions, but I really don’t think I can handle that stress right now.” Molly rubbed a paw against the back of her head.

“If I remember how this works, he can clean up some of the leftover stuff, like the replaced canons and that… Suvian ship we left floating out at sea…” The cartoonishly-sized sweatdrop reappeared, only for her to quickly wipe it away. “I’m sure it’ll be fine! Scariness aside, he’s good at what he does.”

She shook her head, pulled out her RA, and opened up a shimmering portal. "I think we can just go back now. You coming with?"

John didn't respond at first, staring blankly into the sky. The cracks and dents in his armor were gone like they were never there. Molly scurried over, grabbed a giant finger with both paws, and started tugging in the direction of the portal.

Noticing his partner's weak but persistent pulls, John snapped back to reality. Unfamiliar emotions still clouding his mind, he let Molly lead him away, though he had to hunch over so he could fit the portal frame. Together they stepped through the portal, back to Headquarters.

Back in the RC, the Agents were quiet. Molly was typing up the mission report into the console, while John simply stood off in one corner and stared at nothing.

Eventually, Molly finished and sent her report. Sliding off the tall booster seat she had been using as a stool, she waved over to John.

“Hi, Mister John! So, you might be wondering what to do now! It seems calm, doesn’t it?”

John stirred, looking up. She was exactly right, and that concerned him at first - after a second, he wondered why that was, especially considering she had shown him no hostility since his arrival. He brushed the thoughts aside and adjusted his body language to appear attentive.

Molly threw her arms up into the air happily. “Surprise! We get a full break until our next mission!"

[BEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEP WEE-WOO WEE-WOO HOOOOOOOOONK—]

John instantly aimed his rifle at the source of the noise, before remembering what the console was and lowering the weapon.

“Oh, speak of the… I got it!” said Molly, skittering over to the console to shut off the alarm. After a quick glance over the console readout, she began typing away at the keypad. “Looks like we’ve got another mission! I hope you’re ready, Mister John!”

John nodded, thinking about how short that 'break' was, empty gaze leveled at the rifle in his lap.

He was thinking.

Back on Earth, he was but a lone, simple being, fighting against endless hordes of alien invaders seeking to kill and destroy everything they saw fit. This new world, this job, was familiar despite its initial strangeness. Never-ending waves of monsters to kill, worlds in need of aid, horrors beyond comprehension at every turn. No breaks, no pay, possibly no end until death. The song was different, but the beat was the same.

As he watched Molly happily open up a portal in the center of the room, John decided he was okay with that.

Perhaps, for this song, he did not have to be alone.

---

(Author's Note: Well, there you have it, folks. Five months of planning and hours of plotting and writing, all leading to... whatever it is you just finished reading. Longest piece of fiction I've ever written and it's this, heh. Anyways, I hope y'all enjoy it, and have a nice day.)

Time for the Second Task!

Warnings for allusions to teenage pregnancy/underage sex via the Triwizard Tournament exit clause, and miscarriages via assumptions made about Gillyweed.

I'm pretty sure Scotland gets a lot more rain than Arizona, so having a swimming pool-sized bathtub that's only for the usage of like... 12 students each year (8 prefects, 4 Quidditch captains) isn't that excessive. Especially since I doubt those kids are regularly using it...

Anyway, yes, that young man is indeed Ali! Skeeter... well, she's a grifter for sure. You'll see about the results of her spying on the convo with Dumbledore very soon.

Immigrants: we get the job done ;)

The twins were blackmailing Bagman in the books, actually! And I did intend the students that Bagman got caught with to be Fred and George, but if you want to think it's actually the Goblins and Rita Skeeter just needs to update her prescription, well, I'm not stopping you ;D

Ginny's not going to pass up a chance to wrassle those Scandinavian ladies!

Portrait Kombat should be a thing in the wizarding world. Just imagine all the betting!

I've barely met any of the Olden Dayes people listed here, but I think they'd be glad to know how fondly they're remembered. <3

And so the ancientest of ancientbies pass another milestone; twenty years before the badfic mast. It's been a long and amazing twenty years, shipmate, and I'm looking forward to even more.

-Delta