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Asks are open to Agents Matthew and Ajax

Instinct told her to grab Wobbles' outstretched arm and haul the woman onto her own back, then use her leg muscles to toss her to the floor--but she guessed that that would not be the best strategy. The woman was massive. Alleb was forcefully reminded of Sir Mallik, wielding his great hammer with a head bigger than her rib cage. If there had been time, she would have gulped. But there was no time. She aimed a chop at the woman's wrist, trying to make her let go of her weapon.

Jesse, meanwhile, jumped on Wobbles's back like a rabid monkey.

((-Alleb))

...And dodged the spell.

"I didn't know we had seekers!" He said, remembering the Saturday morning cartoon. "Ajax take--"

"Already on it." He said, diverting his flight path towards the seeker.

Matthew swung his staff at his opponent like it was bat.

Colt's still swearing up a storm at all the wiring he's got to fix, but the problem was easily handled once we cut the power.

You guys really need to be firm about where she can go, otherwise you're going to end up having to rely on DoSAT for the electrical fixes.

Loathe as I am to ask this... what is the correct form of socialization for a Pernese dragonet? I worry that, given the fact that my standing in the community is about as high as the ankle socks of a particularly small beetle, he is missing out on contact with other dragonets and that this might be affecting him adversely. I can function in graceful solitude; people cannot, in my experience. Rest assured that no other help presented itself, and was generally met with derision or threats of physical violence against my person if I sent another fourteen-page missive concerning Lolus' health, mental state, and dietary preferences. I'm sure you approve.

Antrilovorasilendar.

Somebody was launching an attack at Hop. The Italian extended her arm towards the attacker.

"Raypulse!" A short bolt of light shot out of Hip's palm, aiming straight for the tomato.

Alright, mate? I just wanted to know how you mob dealt with ceiling fans burrowing through the ceiling and chasing down half the Techs here.

Why yes, we have just had the clown in, however did you smeggin' guess? =]

...and observed a clown fighting two others. He wanted in. So, he loaded his crossbow with a nearby tomato, parkoured out of the fort, and fire the thing at another women, going for take out boxes.

"What are you doing!" Ajax yelled.

"It's Saturday," Matthew yelled back, throwing away the crossbow and extracting his collapsed bo staff, flicking it into full length. "It's always alright for fighting!"

Ajax groaned, then summoned his scythe and spread his Talaria, taking off after him.

Wobbles yelled and barrelled forward at Alleb, boards striking out in a haymaker blow to try and break the guard. At 6 feet tall and only under 300 pounds if you were a really good-natured liar, the barrelling was rather literal. Her gaze was laser-focused on the knight, since of the two she was probably the easier target for her particular brand of shock and awe.

Agent Hop ducked beneath a long table, which helped her avoid a sudden launch of Generic Gray Gruel. "Not funny!"

Suddenly every single piece of food in the cafeteria became a weapon. Bugels were flying, steaks were torn... Hell hath no fury like an agent scorned.

"I got hit," said Hip, wiping sauce off her cheek. Peeking from beneath the table, both women noticed the battlefield was getting more intense every second. Instead of just food, some agents with superpowers decided to either settle some old disputes, or simplu show-off their superiority.

"So what's the plan, captain?" Hip looked at Hop.

"Our mission is to get to the takeaway containers, o'er there," the former Time Agent pointed at the pile of styrofoam boxes, "catch wha'ever food is flyin', an' then dash to our RC to have a proper lunch. Yeh with me, love?"

"Always."

The agents relocated from beneath the table, to the side of it. They were completely vulnerable, but that won't matter if they're gonna be on the move.

Hop took a deep breath. "If I don' make it alive," she looked at Hip, "tell me girlfriend I love 'er."

Hip chuckled. "I'll be sure to let her know." She gave Hop a quick peck on the cheek. "Now go. I'll cover you."

Hearing the signal, Hop slid across the table and dashed towards the to-go boxes.

Who's the best kisser, in your opinion, however you choose to interpret such a vaguely worded question?

If by some machination of the gods we wound up doing a mission on an aircraft, surely you'd forgive me quoting the entirety of Airplane!?

... it's really annoying not being able to ask what day it is because you Just Know the answer. Oh well.

I see that I was an utterly awful conversationalist those last few messages; I'm just going to offer a blanket 'sorry' for everything I said there. Moving on? Moving on.

I don't know you. You work in security, which predisposes me to dislike you, but okay, you might be an okay person. I'll keep an open mind about that.

'Younglings'... heh. You know that thing where Legolas says the trees of Fangorn almost make him feel young again, as he hadn't since travelling with "you children"? Yeah, welcome to being a tree. Seriously, why do the Flowers recruit so many young agents? Couldn't they wait until they're 40 or 50 or so and give them time to mature? I dunno. I need a- no, no I don't.

Gallifrey. Gallifrey, Gallifrey, Gallifrey. Did the Doctor throw out the 'old order'? He kicked out Rassilon - which, y'know, might not have been the best idea anyway - but when was the last time Gallifrey had a nice political structure? I grew up around the time of the Sontaran invasion; I don't know what you were up to back then, but I remember very clearly the oppressed underclass we called Outsiders invading the Citadel. I love my planet, but it could be a rotten place if you weren't on the Council itself.

Also... well, do we really want the Time Lords to be active in the universe? I mean, we're not the most stable of races, and with time travel it only takes one nutcase to - oh - murder half of Logopolis and lead to the destruction of half the universe? For example.

I dunno. I just... I don't trust Gallifrey, is the problem. I don't trust it not to die on me, and I don't trust it to be sane towards the rest of reality. I want to go home... but I don't think 'home' ever really existed.

Jesse, having seen clowns before, recovered first. Sensing a "worthy opponent," as Alleb had put it, he put his fists up and began bouncing on the balls of his feet, sizing up the massive woman who had just splintered a table. He smiled. "I wanna play," he said, then ducked as a stray clod of green beans passed through where his head had been.

Alleb was still in shock. "Wha-- who-- wha--" she spluttered, backing away, eyes wide as saucers. "Who-- wha--"

"Get your fists up!" Jesse admonished. "Gape like a caught fish later!"

Alleb gulped, but fell into a fighter's stance, fists up to protect her face. "For the glory of... Alleble?" she faltered, voice cracking slightly.

((-Alleb))

((Gallifrey Imminent. It's likely that Morgan's the only person to remember that.))

((Gods, that was a fun story to write.))

((hS))

((It was in a Continuity Council interlude, if memory serves...))

At least it's Time Lord minimal?

But you definitely need more friends.

Where a pogo stick speared down from the heavens, the clown attached to it screaming in defiance as she fell like an exceptionally overweight thunderbolt. It smashed the table next to the pair, and the clown backflipped off the pogo stick and produced a couple of boards stuck together from somewhere in her capacious, eyeball-searing trousers. The braces bounced rather theatrically.

"Heya, buckos! Who wants to play with Wobbles The Clown?"

Didn't I nearly shoot one of them once? No, that redhead thought I was going to... I can't remember, it's been a while. Longer for me, probably.

I think what I need is a partner, but Traf... and of course Upstairs won't give one to someone who wants one. So they're keeping me on teamup duty, which is great for my social life, let me tell you.

I dunno. Some days I just feel like heading out to make some new friends, y'know?

"Help me turn this table, Sir Jesse!" she yelled, taking hold of the worn edge. Food flew through the air around them, splattering on the ground and occasionally splattering them. Alleb felt a grin work its way onto her face at the sounds of the brawl--she hadn't had a decent, hand-to-hand fight in weeks.

Jesse stood, toppling back his chair, and took hold of the table with her. Together they heaved, turning the rectangle onto its side, dumping their lunches on the ground. Jesse adjusted the legs so they kept the thing up. Alleb peered over the top, ducking back down when a pile of greenish mashed potatoes--she hoped they were mashed potatoes--flew at her, striking the front of their barricade. "We are well positioned in this corner!" the swordmaiden said. "Now we have only to find worthy opponents!"

She looked over and, to her surprise, Jesse was also grinning. "I ain't seen a proper brawl since I left Kansas City," he said. He looked at her, brown eyes alight. "You ever been in one?"

"Are you or are you not talking to one of the wrestling champions of Alleble?" Alleb said, stretching the muscles in her arms. "I say we dash out, fight for a few moments, then return here before we are bloodied." She paused for a moment. "We fight to end the fight and bring peace, of course," she said, as an afterthought.

"Right," Jesse said, winking. "Sounds good." He held out his hand. "Together?"

Alleb clasped it firmly. "Together!"

They released each other, and with their own war cries--"Yeeehaw!"--"For Alleble!"--they vaulted over their table barricade and charged into the fray.

((Boy, this sounds fun! =D I might involve Michael and Mia later. Poor guys, they haven't been used since the Hunger Games RP.

Thanks for doing this, July!

-Alleb))

Repeat message, over.

In all seriousness, though, is it really a stretch to believe that people can change opinions over time? I won't say more given the fact that you aren't sober and have a firmly entrenched idea of who I am. Even the best tennis player will lose against a wall, you know.

And what is it with you younglings and seeing romance everywhere? It's absolutely maddening. Apparently you can't have a good old-fashioned grudge anymore. Nowadays there's got to be some sexual tension involved. Do grow up.

Quite frankly, your pessimism at Gallifrey's situation is a bit overboard. From an out-of-continuum perspective, the BBC won't try to pull the 'Time Lords Are Evil!' card out of its hat that soon. Besides, haven't you seen Hell Bent? The Doctor destroyed the old order during his last visit. We have a chance to truly reclaim the Homeworld and impose reforms that will pull us out of the Dark Ages and into a brighter future. Have faith-- we can do this.

-E

It was Ajax, commenting on their current situation of foodfight.

The Agents of RC# 637R3K7M8 were holed up in a square fortress of 4 tables. His partner Matthew had somehow acquired a crossbow, and was using it to return fire. Conversely, Ajax himself was using his hydrokinetic abilities to forge a flying tendril of water. Said tendril was littered with the weaponized food, ramming itself into Ajax's opponets.

An eggplant found it's way into their defense, and for some reason had a cord that was lit on fire. An Eggplant Grenade. Matthew threw the eggplant back over their wall, where it exploded.

"Where the heck did they get that?!" Matthew commented post-boom.

"We've passed RWBY levels of carnage, that's for sure." Ajax said.

Saturday night is always alright for fighting

Fourth wall aside if you really need non-Time Lords to hang out with who won't drive you to the drink you could always hang out with the BM crew if you wanted.

I know spending time with other sailors certainly makes me want to drink.