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Skills Percy managed to miss the whole roof on fire incident, right up until he was showered in glass. This shook him out of his conversation long enough for him to glance around.

"Whoa, whoever did this must have been a ninja." He said, "I didn't hear a thing."

His previous conversation forgotten, Percy turned to the nearest person.

"Hey random person! I'm Percy and I have no idea where I am, How are you?"

-------
On the other side of the lounge a certain rabbit-eared individual was cursing his luck.

"Damnit Vorce, You've been wandering for ages and now you've managed to get yourself stuck in a pyromaniac's paradise."

Turning he spoke to the nearest two people, one of them holding a rather familiar weapon. "No way. Is that a Dracon beam? Hey you two, Have you two seen an idiot by some chance? Green skin, pink eyes, stupid. Ring a bell?"

With a resounding crash, the table fell down, drenching the already-disgusting foodstuffs in... motor oil? Gaspard edged away from the slowly expanding puddle of flammable material and bumped into a redheaded girl who was silently fuming beside the downed table.

"Oh, sorry. Didn't see you there," apologized Gaspard. He took a good look at the girl again: she couldn't be over 14 years old. "Um, if you don't mind me asking, are you in the PPC or a are you a Nursery kid? You seem awfully young to be an Agent."

Lisa lay back on the couch and closed her eyes, hoping for a short nap. Possibly a nice cookie.

Of course, this is a holidy party in the PPC HQ. Peace is not an option.

Within five minutes, Lisa was sat on, she had angrily attached the sitter to the ceiling, she was then accosted by a chaperone for the party (who, unsurprisingly, was drunk himself), she was forced to take the sitter down from the ceiling, and then the Scribe demanded that Lisa give her all her cookies.

"Why?" Lisa snapped exasperatedly.

"So that next time you see me... Well... next time I see you, which will be in... hmm... two years for you? Yes, because you're... fourteen... so you'll meet me in about a year and a half... Anyway, so that then, you don't owe me anymore."

Lisa silently handed her cookies over and stomped to the snack table. Unfortunately, her foot got caught in the tablecloth, and the entirety of the snack table (including the inedible stuffed hedgehogs in motor oil sauce) came crashing down.

Lisa swore again and felt like kicking a puppy.

... and closed her eyes, hoping for a short nap. Possibly a nice cookie.

Of course, this is a holidy party in the PPC HQ. Peace is not an option.

Within five minutes, Lisa was sat on, she had angrily attached the sitter to the ceiling, she was then accosted by a chaperone for the party (who, unsurprisingly, was drunk himself), she was forced to take the sitter down from the ceiling, and then the Scribe demanded that Lisa give her all her cookies.

"Why?" Lisa snapped exasperatedly.

"So that next time you see me... Well... next time I see you, which will be in... hmm... two years for you? Yes, because you're... fourteen... so you'll meet me in about a year and a half... Anyway, so that then, you don't owe me anymore."

Lisa silently handed her cookies over and stomped to the snack table. Unfortunately, her foot got caught in the tablecloth, and the entirety of the snack table (including the inedible stuffed hedgehogs in motor oil sauce) came crashing down.

Lisa swore again and felt like kicking a puppy.

Orken was leery of Agent Supernumerarys question. He hoped that it was no the start of some anti-Yeerk tirade, or questions about flushing. He shuddered slightly, remembering the question Cadmar had asked when they first met, about giant space toilets.

I am indeed a Yeerk, Agent Supernumerary. A hint of a smirk passed over his face, briefly. Its a pleasure to meet you, too. Ive heard good things from your partner. I trust them to be true. Ilraen has proven himself to be more than adequate at his job. His knowledge of the Harry Potter canon proved- He was interrupted by a tap on the shoulder.

Thomas gestured to the presents Orken was carrying. Cadmars being all huggy with this other dude, and I figured now was a good time to grab the presents.

It would be, if you had not interrupted my- Orken stopped, realizing that Thomas was offering to take the two annoying boxes that he had had been lugging around since the party began. I meanyou may have them, Agent Thomas. I was just introducing myself to Agent Supernumerary.

Thomas gave Ilraens partner a quick appraising glance before snatching the presents from Orken. Sorry dude. Id love to stay and get all introducutiony, but I have to get back to Cadmar. I asked a question, and they should stop hugging any second now and realize I asked it. He ran off, back towards where Cadmar and Cali where wrapped in each others arms.

Came the shout from the inside of the Lounge. Gaspard and Frédéric came back inside.

"Man," said Gaspard as he looked at the scorched interior. "Who knew a small fairy could do all of that?"

"I have no idea," replied his father, wrinkling his nose at the smell. "But I hope that fairy girl is all right. She seemed very upset when that punch was thrown onto her."

Ilraen could only stare, wide-eyed, as his partner—his partner—charged into the room and doused the fairy (and anyone unlucky enough to be standing in the same trajectory) with punch.

"Excuse me, Orken," he said weakly. "I need to . . . " he trailed off as he approached his partner.

Nume, for his part, watched the fairy flee the room with satisfaction, though not pleasure. There were still flames, though the smoke was rising into the rafters for the most part, and no one seemed to be suffering from it. He looked around and spotted Ilraen coming toward him.

"There you are," Nume said.

"Here I am," Ilraen agreed. "What are you doing here? You told me you would not come."

The black-haired man shrugged. "Came to keep an eye on things. Some fishy messages were going around, and Maintenance hinted the power might go out somewhere. I figured a mass panic would ruin my evening more than the Lounge, though given it was on fire when I got here . . . " he shook his head with a grimace.

"Most of them are out now," Ilraen observed, watching the largest blaze above mysteriously die down as, unbeknownst to him, all the oxygen was sucked away. "Since you are here, you can meet Agent Orken." Seizing Nume's arm cheerfully, despite the man's resistance, Ilraen dragged him back toward the food table.

"Orken, this is my partner, Nume. I do not believe you've met."

"Agent Supernumerary," Nume added for the sake of completeness, pulling his arm free and eying Orken dubiously. "So, you're the Yeerk?"

(( I apologize for Nume's complete lack of tact. ~Neshomeh ))

(( I wrote my last post intending to be caught up by the end, so as far as I'm concerned it's all fine now.

That said, though, I am very much against actually burning everything down, since that would end the party and be depressing, so let's not. People are putting out the fires, everything's going to be okay (even if it smells a little funny in there now). The RP-Starter Hath Spoken.

Actual IC-post coming up next!

~Neshomeh ))

Frédéric looked around for his son and found him just off to his right. "Gaspard," he shouted over the pandemonium. "Can you pursue your conversation with your friend outside please? It's getting hot in here."

His son nodded and dashed out of the Lounge, leaping over the flames. Frédéric looked up at the ceiling. The agents were putting up a valiant fight against the flames, but it looked like it could go either way especially with the fire starting to block off the exit.

The FicPsych nurse stepped out into the hall, looking around as he calmly patted down a sleeve that caught on fire. He turned to somebody who just ran out of the Lounge. "You there. I know there is an abundance of flamethrowers here but are there any extinguishers here? No? Then help me find a remote activator. If they can't put out that blasted fire in there, we'll have to portal everyone out."

Lisa squeaked as she was splashed with punch. She ran off to the side, found the pitcher of strawberry lemonade, and (after a regretful look at her new favorite drink) also threw it at the ceiling.

It didn't seem to do much, just... kind of... shatter.

And also rain broken shards down on the crowd below. Said crowd turned to look at the perpetrator.

Lisa mumbled something that was most definitely not a filthy curse word, then ran off before she could get lynched. She then grabbed her manual, opened it to a spell she knew was there (but was reluctant to use, as it took up a lot of energy) and started to speak in the Speech.

The world went quiet, as it always did in a spell, then her ears filled with that peculiar ringing sound and the silence that was so silent it was noise-

And then the flames sputtered. They didn't go out.

Lisa swore and went to go off and collapse on a couch. Maybe eat a cookie. She didn't really want to deal with other people's problems right now. Particularly when she was so new to magic.

"Uh, Lee?"

Lee broke off her conversation with Ian (who had finally found her a few minutes earlier) and looked over at her daemon, who was staring pensively up at the ceiling from his perch on the back of her chair. "Yeah, Rosh-" she began, and then caught sight of the fire up on the ceiling. "Oh."

"Yeah, 'oh,'" Roshaun said. "Don't you think you should help?"

"How did I not-- Nevermind. Ian, I'll be back in a second." Lee got to her feet, Roshaun settling on her shoulders as was his habit. Lee moved forward, flexing her fingers in preparation of casting magic. She saw Nume throw the bowl of punch at the fire fairy, and, figuring that he'd probably have a little better success with that than she would, turned her attention to the fire in the rafters.

Hmm. While water might help, there was another alternative to extinguishing the flames. With a careful eye on Kyle and Kevin-- she didn't want to harm them at all --Lee started to pull the air away from the largest conflagration, essentially encapsulating it in a large airless bubble.

--

Meanwhile, Orion and Maeryn were keeping well back from the fire, over near Orken and Thomas; neither wizard nor Tok'ra wanted to get in the way.

"Does this happen at all the Christmas parties here?" Orion asked, sounding more amused than scared.

Maeryn shook her head. "I do not know," she replied. "This is the first one that Kali and I have attended, though I can say that other parties here seem to have some element of chaos to them. It is not uncommon."

Yn'hrai had anticipated the intern's recommendation that Kasaiko join the DoGA. It was the obvious choice given her personality. "Kasaiko's meeting with the Bonsai Mallorn has disqualified her from the D.o.G.A." the deep stated as his companion flew off once again. "We currently interested in joining the Department of Floaters. The Floating Hyacinth being a water plant helps with this, as is Kasaiko's willingness to burn anything, including Sues," Yn'hrai's tone was even more formal than his usual speech.

It was at this point that someone shouted something rather loudly. The deep one turned around just in time to see Kasaiko get drenched by a thrown bowl of punch. At this point it could be observed that her eyes, hair, wings, clothing, shoes, and anything else she happened to be wearing all looked rather similar to a burning fire, resulting in the already doused fairy becoming the target of several squirt guns. Kasaiko suddenly began crying, and flew directly through the flames that were now starting to engulf the exit. Her partner hopped after her, shouting something about a fire extinguisher.

"I can understand that. Being alone on the holidays bites the big one, it really does."

He took on a thoughtful expression, and nodded to himself. "Right then..." He suddenly reached into his pocket and removed a switchblade, which he passed to Natasha. "Merry Christmas! No feeling lonely today, understand?"

((Direct response to Neshomeh's last post, so same deal with timey-wimey stuff))

Orken breathed a sigh of relief. Smoke? He sniffed the air, and indeed smelled smoke. He frowned. Hrm. I hope someone isnt being unsafe with fire. This place has a tendancy to ignite. Not seeing any immediate flames, though, he continued. Im glad you like it. I noticed that you didnt bring a weapon on our last mission. As an Assassin, I cant imagine going into bad He stopped as he caught sight of the fire climbing the rafters. Really? Again? Isnt this getting kind of expected? He hugged the last two presents he was carrying close to his chest, in such a way that they shielded the books Ilraen had given him. The gifts Thomas had picked out for Maria and Cadmar would not be harmed by the eventual fire extinguishing water (probably) whereas the two paperbacks most certainly would.

Why in the name of kandrona must people keep setting this place on fire? Orken wondered allowed. He eyed the flames with apprehension, and calculated his chances of being able to get to the door. He estimated his chances were not good. Shortly after resigning himself to having to avoid catching fire in the lounge while stuck in the aforementioned burning room, he saw an agent he swore he had seen before (perhaps he had been around awhile?) wielding a punch bowl and screaming at the top of his lungs for others to get out of his way, as he threw punch at the instigator of the lounges nth fire. Some children were making headway on the rafter fire with their squirt guns as well. (He could not even hazard a guess as to the number of times it had happened. He had heard it had happened quite often even before his time, but no-one seemed to have exact numbers.) He hoped that there were others as innovative as the man with the bunch bowl and the children with the squirt guns, because there was a conspicuous lack of fire extinguishers. Orken silently cursed the laws of narrative comedy.

((This is going on a little before the fire. I was busy yesterday, so yeah, wibbly-wobbly timey-wimey. ))

Ilraen had nearly forgotten the box he was holding, but now that he'd seen Orken pleased with his present, Ilraen could think of himself again. It seemed heavy for its size, he thought, tearing through the brown packaging paper with abandon. It was fun, doing that.

The paper floated to the floor, and the lid to the box landed on top. Ilraen found himself looking down at a Dracon Beam. To say that he was surprised would be to say that a cat-owner feels surprise at finding a dead rat on the bed for the first time—it didn't quite suffice, but there wasn't another word for it. It was one thing, he realized, to accept a person, a fellow-being, who'd happened to be on the wrong side of an old war. It was quite another to accept a cold metal object used in the slaughter and enslavement of millions. Very much not wishing to be rude, though, he quickly swallowed and grinned at Orken, for once counting on his usual lack of mastery with the expression to cover his real feelings.

"I am sure it will be useful," he said. "We have not been in the habit of carrying weapons, but that has gotten us into trouble before. Thank you."

He meant it, too, by the time he said it. Like the cat-owner, he could forgive his friend acting on his nature. The thought behind it was meant well.

Kneeling, he replaced the box's lid and tucked it into his bag. On standing up, he frowned and looked around. "Do you smell smoke?"

Moments later, the rafters caught fire.

~*~

Agent Supernumerary was not happy. He had meant to spend a quiet evening alone in his response center while Ilraen went out and made a fool of himself at the party, but no, Headquarters couldn't allow that. After all the strange messages filtering to his console, he finally resigned himself to the fact that someone would have to try and keep people from panicking if Maintenance did put the power out, and he was probably the only one paying enough attention to think of it.

He arrived in a deep sulk, head down and hands thrust into the pockets of his gray slacks, and stopped short in the doorway to the Lounge.

"Oh, Christ," he swore, uncreatively but with deep feeling. "This is why I stopped coming here," he grumbled to no one.

The place was on fire. Again. Some people were making an effort at putting it out, but the rafters were high up and hard to reach. It looked like kids with squirt-guns were the only ones making any effort there.

Suddenly, he overheard a blessedly sensible-sounding voice— "shouldn't you deal with the source of the problem first?" —and he spotted the flaming fairy.

Well, Nume had come here to stop chaos, and by God, somebody had to do something. He strode through the crowd, not caring who he pushed out of his way, and grabbed the first bowl of punch he could reach. Waiting for just the right moment, when the fairy fluttered into range, he shouted: "EVERYBODY OUT OF THE WAY!" and flung the entire contents of the bowl at the little menace.

... snack table, searching for edible items. As in, things that were not made of cardboard, motor oil, small stuffed hedgehogs, or any combination of the three.

She finally poured herself a glass of strawberry lemonade and turned around, only to smack into a slightly taller woman who looked as if she was in her late teens. The woman had bright green, spiky hair and was wearing a radioactively green sweater with equally eye-blindingly red pants. The woman started chattering at Lisa at a dizzying rate. "Hey Lisa! How're those spells going? Cute t-shirt, by the way."

"Excuse me? I've never seen you before in my life." Lisa was certainly not amused at this.

The woman's eyes widened, then she smiled sheepishly. "Time travel. Never can get it right. Sorry. I'm the Scribe. Call me Scribe. Or whatever."

Lisa shook the odd woman's hand, rather bewiledered by her. "Erm... Nice to meet you, I guess. Time travel?"

"Well... yeah. Probably shouldn't hang around me for too long, there might be some timey... stuff... you know."

With the, the Scribe walked off, leaving Lisa blinking in surprise with a strawberry lemonade in her hand. She shook her head and walked in the other direction.

Arthur Briggs and Lynn Gillies walked through the door. Briggs wore his usual battledress, but with a Santa hat instead of his UNIT beret. The solid gold box in his arms was full of Christmas crackers.

Gillies sidestepped just in time to keep some other agents from running into the tray of pumpkin bread she was carrying. "Let me put this down first, then I'll help you hand out the crackers." She started across the room toward the snacks table.

The green velvet vest with white snowflake appliques that Gillies was wearing over her uniform clashed with her urple armband. But, what didn't clash with urple?

... yelled "Why didn't anyone TELL me there's a party?"

Since everyone was busy with said party, no-one answered.

The girl made a small growling sound and flopped down on the nearest couch.

Her name was Lisa, and she was very young-looking indeed, about thirteen or fourteen. Her hair was bright red and tied back in a messy ponytail, and she had an exuberant amount of freckles. Her clothes were rather nondescript.

Lisa got bored and wandered over to the snack table.

Thomas gave the new person a welcoming grin. I dont know you! But thats fine, dude, cause this is a party. WHOO! He cleared his throat. Sorry, dudes. I have gone a few minutes without doing that and He stopped as he watched Cadmar and Cali hug, and his smile faded a bit. You guys friends?

"Oof!" Cadmar was about so say something rude to whoever ran into her, but stopped when she saw it was Cali.

"Cali! Hi!" She wrapped him in a hug. "It's so good to see you! I was thinking you'd ran off somewhere!"

Cali was knocked off balance by Kyle and Kevin's guilty darting through the crowd.

"What did you two do?" he shouted after them. They giggled evilly. He turned to find out what kind of damage control was needed in the direction the two had run from.

He turned quickly and ran right into Cadmar's back.

Maria shrieked and tried to hide behind Miah from the water, to no avail.

"Nooo!" she wailed as the kids ran off, laughing. "I hate water..."

Mark walked over, laughing. "Ahah! What's the matter, Maria? Afraid of a little water?"

Maria glared. "Knee-jerk reaction."

OOC: We accidentally posted at the bottom of the other part of the thread, so I copied the things we had out of order, and put them here in order. End of OOC



(1st post) Maria: "Miah!" Maria cried in joy as she tackled the other agent. "Merry Christmas, Miah!"


(2nd post) Miah: "Ahgh! Glomped again! Um, I meant--Hi Maria. Merry Christmas to you, too. This party sure is heating up isn't it?"


(3rd post) Maria: "Yeah, it is. It's good to see you again, it's been a while! We've all missed you guys!" Maria got up and helped Miah up as well. "Oh, and I can give you your gift now too!" She reached into a pocket on her coat and pulled out a wig with long, silver, slightly sparkly hair. "This is something I made out of hair Eva dropped on me, Mark, and Cadmar's first mission together." Maria smiled wider and handed it over.



(This post) Miah: "Ooh, shiny!" Miah said, and jammed the wig on her head.

"Sue alert! Sue alert!" Kyle and Kevin shouted in unison before turning their water guns on Miah and by association--Maria.

"Yeah, it is. It's good to see you again, it's been a while! We've all missed you guys!" Maria got up and helped Miah up as well. "Oh, and I can give you your gift now too!" She reached into a pocket on her coat and pulled out a wig with long, silver, slightly sparkly hair. "This is something I made out of hair Eva dropped on me, Mark, and Cadmar's first mission together." Maria smiled wider and handed it over.

"Ahgh! Glomped again! Um, I meant--Hi Maria. Merry Christmas to you, too. This party sure is heating up isn't it?"