As many mages from Lee's home continuum had found, when a large amount of magic was used for an extended amount of time, there was often an adverse effect on the mage who was acting as the conduit for said magic. In Lee's case, for example, it brought out her more paranoid and protective instincts; when they were combined with her battle skills that had been sharpened by two years of fighting badfic abominations of various kinds, the total effect left the elemental mage on edge quicker than if someone had shouted "Sue!" at the top of their lungs in the Cafeteria during rush hour. When she heard the ruckus begin thanks to the sentient grey jellies attacking people, she immediately located Ian and Sammy, both of whom were thankfully nearby. One muttered spell later and the two were neatly shielded from any kind of attack.

"Who the hell thought it would be smart to bring sentient food in here?" Lee growled, Roshaun baring his sharp teeth in an unconscious echo.

(OOC--sorry I didn't reply yesterday)

Cali pulled back from Cadmar as he finally processed that Thomas had asked him something.

"Hey, where'd he go?" he asked Cadmar.

Logan, Aegis and Kern wandered into the lounge. Logan's hair looked even more dishevelled than usual.
The sounds of an ongoing argument wafted in from the corridor.

"... look, I was tired, ok?" said Logan, looking at Kern irritably.

"If you're expecting any sympathy from me, think again," said Kern. "No one forced you to go to Rudi's last night, let alone drink that many beers. And now we're late for the party, thanks to you."

Logan didn't reply - his partner's nagging only making his hangover worse - and made a beeline for the drinks table. Hair of the dog, and all that...

Aegis and Kern looked around for any Agents they knew, soon after joined by Logan, who had appropriated several drinks. Logan thought he recognised the Andalite - Nume's partner, right? - but he didn't recall meeting most of the other agents present.

The trio of ESAS agents tried to catch the attention of some nearby agents and strike up a conversation.

"Hey, watch it!" he said. "Oh, it's you, Percy. Hullo there."
Running after the green-skinned man, he, too, stepped on a few feet. "Of course they'll look at you, Percy," he said, "Your skin is green. But, then again, there are so many weird things here..." he said.

"No. Now go."

"I'll give you chocolate?"

"As I said before, no. Now will you kindly go?"

Frustrated, Agent Skorp kicked the door, then cursed as pain raced up her leg.

"Well, why not? I /know/ you don't have Christmas where you come from, but you could at least join in!"

"..."

"Please respond."

"Give me some time, it's hard to make things rhyme."

Skorp sighed, despairing of her partner, and made for the lounge.

Even if Poet wasn't going to celebrate, /she/ certainly was!

Zanna had rushed immediately to the lounge, and was now hanging out at the food table and chatting up anyone who happened to pass by. Which was pretty much everyone.

She was also making it a point of effort to try at least one of every chocolate-covered thing.

Well, to be honest, it didn't take a whole lot of effort.

Chocolate-covered strawberries... pretzels... apricots... cookies... ham? Candy canes? Custard? Pies? Chocolates??? Zanna grinned. The PPC was by far the best thing that had ever, ever happened to her.

Having significantly less fun was her partner. David seemed to be trying to make himself as small and invisible as possible. He stood awkwardly by Zanna, giving everyone who passed by a nervous glance, as if expecting them to bust out the flamethrowers at any moment.

"Zanna," he said, his voice low, "why do you insist on doing this every time there is even the smallest of festivities?"

"Come on. You never talk to anyone - you just sit in our RC reading or watching TV or obsessively checking for Homestuck updates all the time. A little bit of socializing will be good for you. There have got to be other agents who got dragged here by their partners, why don't you find one of them and commiserate? Meet people. Talk to people. Make some new friends. You can't stay holed up by yourself in your room forever." She looked up at him and smiled enthusiastically. "Besides, they've got chocolate-covered eggnog here. Chocolate-covered eggnog. I don't even know how that's possible, but they have it. This place is great."

... Morgan was slumped, staring into a mug.

"So I get killed by a Macrovirus," she explained to anyone who'd listen, "and regenerate into, well, this." She waved a hand vaguely at herself, took a sip of her drink. "Still not used to it. Then a few weeks later Makes-Things comes out of nowhere and tells me he's got an experiment he needs my help in. 'Sure,' I say, 'no problem,' I say. Idiot. He shuts me in this big metal box, and next thing I know, it's yesterday, my TARDIS is screaming at me - sort of, you know what I mean - for being gone so long, and there's a message telling me my parter... partnter... whatever, is dead. Hi there."

She waved to a passing agent, who blinked. "Um, hi," the red-haired woman said.

"She's got a baby, you know," Morgan went on to her now-captive audience. "Had a baby, I guess. He's still alive - lovely little thing. But not Traf." She sighed and stared into her mug. "Apparently I'm a maudlin drunk. What is this stuff, anyway?" She sniffed the drink and nodded. "Ah. Hot chocolate."

"Um, right," her listener said. "I... um, I have to do something." She stood up and walked a few steps away, then started speaking hurriedly into a radio. Morgan shrugged and went back to contemplating her drink.