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Plus, I didn't want to take up a whole new post; it would have just confused people. =]

(...I actually didn't have a response planned for E.V.L. And I was busy preparing for work and stuff, so I probably didn't get the time to think of any, sorry. :c On the flipside, though, wasn't Lola supposed to pick a new gift since hers got stolen? That could've been taken care of during the holdup as well, I guess.

EDIT: I'm a derp and mentioned the wrong player. Sorry! ^^;)

...and picked up a rather tiny gift in his jaws, before carrying it back to his seat. The object inside looked rather delicate, so he had to be extra careful peeling the wrapper off with his teeth and talons. Inside was... a book.

Falchion looked at the book in confusion. "Uh... Ripper? Are you sure you can read that? It looks like it's written in some kind of alien language-"

"It's Sumerian. It will take me a while to translate it, but I could hopefully transcribe it. Perhaps it contains some secret message that only a very specific recipient can understand..."

"Ah. I'll leave it up to you, then."

(OOC: Terribly sorry about the wait! Between preparing for my new job starting next week and working on a new mission, I haven't gotten the time to do Internet things as often as I'd like. Hopefully that'll change once I get my schedule reorganized after the job starts!)

((Nah, it's cool. He doesn't have much to say either.))

Funnily enough, I was waiting on you (or, more specifically, E.V.L. Knievel) to respond to Algie and/or Lola. Which you could conceivably have done quite easily while waiting for Gaspard's response to, er, cream-filled buns, thus filling up a bit more time. Just a thought. =]

@SeaTurtle: Sorry about not responding to Gaspard and Wobbles' interaction. I, er, didn't really have much more for Wobbles to say, though I should probably have put that in the thread. Apologies again.

((Oh, you can go on right away-- Gaspard doesn't have anything to say about his éclairs. He's got other things on his mind.))

(We did finish it last year, after all. I was waiting on SeaTurtle's reply regarding the chocolate eclairs, though. If that's already turned up or doesn't turn up by the end of today, I'll post Ripper's turn and then we can continue.)

Gaspard very carefully folded the handkerchief and placed it on top of the box. He felt that it would be rude to cram it in a pocket in front of Wobbles. "Not alone if I don't want to be. Heh. Well, I try," he said, discreetly gesticulating at the rest of the partygoers. "Sometimes it doesn't turn out the way I hope. Oh well. Try and try again."

Doesn't turn out right 'most of the time', added his brain. I mean, you did cry in public today. For shame. Go and hide or something-- save what little honour remains after all these years.

"I was... technically from Forks, Washington, once upon a time. I felt like I had to apologise for existing, the first few months I was here. Both for my home canon and for my home fic, which was... yeah. Hoo boy, that was a doozy." Wobbles looked quickly at the handkerchief. "Keep it. Please. I got a ton of 'em." And she tugged at her ear and began to produce a string of flags-of-all-nations, enough to wind around her entire arm. "See? Proof. Besides, take it as a sign that you don't have to be alone if you don't want to be."

She smiled, and fought desperately to refrain from giving him another hug. She could see what was wrong with him, but more than that, she could feel it, rolling off him in black waves. Everything he said was hollow and forced, the brittle, self-effacing politeness an act she'd seen a lot of people use during her time in FicPsych. She'd only ever suffered from Suvian depression, but this was quite self-evidently the real deal.

And she was scared for him.

Gaspard accepted the handkerchief and wiped away the final traces of tears from his eyes then offered it back to Wobbles. "Yeah, I'm okay. It just comes out every now and then-- I'm good now. Heh. Nobody likes a crybaby anyways, so... yeah. Let's just pretend it never happened," he said, looking at his box. "But, um, asking me to stop apologizing is really going against everything I stand for as a Canadian. It's in our blood to apologize, see." He smiled weakly at the Floater agent.

"Though far be it from me to get in between a woman of such... singular stature and her quest for a family heirloom. If you care to look to your right, you will see the object of your desires in the possession of a stocky, heavily augmented professional soldier, a leader of men and obliterator of monsters from beyond the dome of Heaven, which I shall presently fetch for you. Now, if you'd be so good as to excuse me?"

This was about as close as Algie ever got to breaking out the effector fields and turning someone into an art installation, but he remained outwardly calm and smiling. He wandered over to where Lola was still... gyrating (poorly, and to music that only really existed in her head), for want of a better phrase, and produced the pamphlet. He then spent a few minutes trying to make Lola see reason, before sighing and having her march over to the ex-Sue and thrust the whip at her, in a rather sulky fashion not quite befitting the Commander's station.

Despite that, what she wanted to do was grab him and give him a hug, but he was obviously so deep in what she'd once called Negative Response Territory that she was certain it'd do more harm than good. "You don't need to apologise. Not here, and never to me."

"It's not stale, either, I kept it in the minifridge and everything! Wait...do you have a nut allergy? I think I left some Hershey's almond bars in there by mistake."

"No you didn't," said Violet. "Remember? Miguel and I ate all the almond candy bars in like a week."

"You ate all the almond ones," Miguel corrected. "And the sour gummy worms. And those disgusting black Twizzlers. And at least half the Tootsie Rolls, even the flavored ones. And all five of those giant lollipops..."

Violet turned red. "Shut up, Miguel! You're making me look bad!"

"I can prove it, too," he said with a wry smile. "I mean, it'd totally break the universe since I'd be meeting myself, but I can take you back in time and show you exactly how much of Chris' Halloween candy you ate."

The angel promptly smacked him upside the head.

Ami rolled her eyes. "Guys, I know you're both teenagers, but stop acting like them."

"Miguel started it," said Violet.

"I don't care who started it, don't fight in public," said Chris.

"Whatever, Dad," Violet snarked.

There was an extremely uncomfortable silence.

...who stepped in and immediately plucked what looked like a gift-wrapped bag from the pile. Taking it back to her group, she opened it up and...

"...What the heck? I know this isn't as nasty as E.V.L.'s glitter, but who in Unova would wrap up and mail-order a pile of stale candy?"

"Can I eat it? I'm hungry!" Cupid piped up.

Lapis' face turned slightly blue. "No, don't! What if it's turned into something poisonous?!"

Rayner, meanwhile, had stood up as well, and picked another box from the pile. He undid the wrapper, opened it up, and pulled out something much more appetizing: A box of chocolate eclairs.

"I'd give these to you and pick something else, Cupid, but you've already got your gift. Ah well. Chocolate's fine by me."

"Can we share?" asked E.V.L.

"NO. Also, it's your turn."

E.V.L. smiled broadly. "Alright, then. Time to sow the seeds of chaos. Algie, give me that whip."

"But you already have your-" Rayner began-

"Give. Me. The whip."

(OOC: Totally forgot that I was next in line. Derp.

EDIT: Edited twice - Turns out I had the next three turns in a row! Saving Ripper's turn for after the fallout from this post, btw.)

...and flicked away some of the wetness in his eyes with his index finger.

"Yes, ma'am. And sorry," he mumbled. "Th'was kinda embarrassing. Won't happen again. Sorry."

"Indeed?" His tone was studiedly mild. "I confess to being entirely ignorant as to the construction of Suvian artifacts; a personal preference on my part. But it brings the Commander evident and keenly-felt pleasure, and for that you have my deepest thanks. As, I am sure, you have hers." The round little man drained his glass and smiled. "May I get you anything? The wine list is a little sparse since last week's incursion into Stores, but there's a rather daring Montrachet '06 on offer that I wholeheartedly recommend. An underrated year, in my opinion, and worth further consideration."

The warlock hopped down from the stage, holding the skull with both hands. Faint glimmer of green light seemed to be coming from his fingertips, encasing the skull in a thin net of green veins. The skull suddenly escaped William's palms, and smoothly levitated next to the man's head.

"Adds to the whole 'Master of the Dark Arts' vibe, doesn't it?" William smiled, and the skull opened its mouth. Trail of green smoke came out of it, briefly formed into a snake, and dispersed as quickly as it appeared.

VJ, who was also attacking the mini-bar, looked at Algie. She was holding a small paper plate full of snickerdoodles. Crumbs on her shirt, and around her mouth, suggested that some of the cookies have already met their doom.

"Making that whip was fun," she said. "Even months after the mission, the hair stayed supple enough to be woven. The only problem was the shape; those stupid locks seemed to have the memory of always staying perfect, so every single time they would simply turn into curls."

Wobbles couldn't help herself. She joined in with the other agent's slightly manic laughter and walked over to him, bouncing up to hang her dream catcher on a convenient stacked chair. Yes, the ducks were funny, but there was an edge to that laugh that she knew all too well, and all the more for how vividly she remembered it.

She put an arm around him as his giggling fit died away, the lights on her bow tie turned off and the comedy squeakers in her shoes silenced with a deft flick of a toe. "Y'know," she said softly, "I've been where you are. I know how to spot when someone's there. So have a.little extra gift from me, and if you're struggling at all, day or night, just... know that you don't have to go it alone all the time. Okay?"

"...so it's not like it'll corrupt anybody anytime soon. Of course, I was hoping someone who knew a contact from the DMSE&R could get their hands on it. You know, for research purposes."

She glanced at the other participants (some of whom looked understandably grossed out - especially the one with the blue hair). "Though of course, if anybody actually WANTS it, there's always the option of stealing it..."

Rayner, meanwhile, had sunk to the floor and buried his face in his knees now. "Note to self: Avoid inviting Glitter Girl to parties at all costs. Next player!"

"Are you telling me that this is capital-G Glitter and therefore basically your blood? 'Cause that's fucked up even by PPC standards."

"I can get Cyndaquil to burn it if you want," said Miguel.

"NO!" Chris and Ami protested.

...who doubled over, laughing so hard he could barely speak. As did the agents of RCs #333, #1,333,316,666, and #88224646BA. (Ripper simply stared at the Duck Box in utter confusion.)

"Well, looks like somebody knows how to use that box," said Backslash.

"A box of screaming rubber chickens!" Cupid cried. "Why didn't I think of that?!"

"They’re pelicans, technically speaking," Falchion replied, having barely regained his composure.

"Well, this certainly makes up for your gift from LAST year," said Sarah.

Falchion snapped his beak at her. "Not. A word."

(OOC: Sorry for not replying sooner, btw. I can't use the Internet on my computer till Comcast service arrives on Monday, so I had to make do with mobile.)

Rayner stopped giving the feathery Floaters an admiring look, and instead glared at his partner. "Please don't tell me you saved your extracted glitter for THIS!"

She blew a hair strand from her face. "I didn't intend to give it away in this Gift Exchange specifically. I simply had no use for it and decided to save myself the trouble of finding an actual gift."

Rayner facepalmed. "Well, you sure sound like you'd be fun in class..."