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... didn't see anyone he knew well on the way to the snacks table, though he did spot Maeryn/Kaliel there and gave the Tok'ra a wave. He made himself a mental note to go and say hello properly in a moment.

First, there was a quantity of chocolate laid before him that he felt certain wasn't allowed under normal circumstances, possibly not even under these circumstances. There was a reason most agents weren't allowed any, he thought as he reached for a chocolate-covered mint. It had to be some kind of drug—the chocolate-covered ham, for sure. That couldn't possibly be legal, it went down far too easily for something so rich and complex. He was all right, though. He had been working on his discipline of late, and as he chewed on a chocolate-covered orange slice, he felt confident that it was working. He was pretty sure he took the time to smile and nod at the other agents near the table between bites, though they did give him some odd looks in return. It had to be the smile—he just couldn't quite master the trick, and it put people off. Oh well.

He jumped at a sudden tap on his shoulder and spun around, a fistful of chocolate-covered eggnog drops on its way to his mouth. His eyes popped and he nearly choked when he recognized Orken, the one person he least wanted to catch him indulging in what Nume called "stupid Andalite cliches," however well he thought he was behaving himself. His face got hot and red, clashing ferociously with his carroty hair. He swallowed hard to get rid of the gooey mess already on his tongue, tipped the rest of the drops into a nearby plastic cup, and brushed his hand on his pant leg. The smear of chocolate on his chin was completely lost on him.

"Orken!" he said hoarsely. Desserts were murder on human vocal cords. "I didn't expect—that is, I had hoped to meet you here, but when I arrived—." He cut himself short. Babbling like an idiot wasn't going to help. He took a deep breath, straightened up, and started over. "I am pleased to see you. Have you been well?"

Her eyes were open wide as she took in all the colorful decorations and lights. "Oh wow! Look at this! Hey," she said trying to get her partner's attention, "Natasha! What are those?" She pointed towards the snack table.

Natasha towards where Sylvia was pointing. "Um, it looks like stuff covered in chocolate."

"What's chocolate?" Sylvia asked, but was quickly distracted, "Oh hey! Is that a ghoul?!" She started towards the eating ghoul, not hearing Natasha's calls to wait for her.

"Hi!" Sylvia said walking up to the zombie-looking agent, "I didn't know there were other people from the Fallout continuum here! I'm Sylvia."

"It's the Time Lady from the thing with the Sue Invasion and the Macroviruses." Colt elbowed Gerry. "Remember her?"

Gerry sighed. "Of course, Colt."

"Hey!" Colt directed this at Morgan. "Want some whisky?" He tipped the bottle towards her, grinning widely.

"I think she's already a sheet or two to the wind," Gerry murmured.

... and dropped her mug. "Bother," she said vaguely, "I was thinking about thinking about drinking that." She bent down to pick it up, and a gun slipped out of her holster to land on the floor next to it. "Oh, double bother," she said, and picked that up too.

The Time Lady straightened up and held up the pistol. "If I was sober," she announced, "I could tell you exactly what this is. Gods I hate this body."

First, Thomas had dragged him here, insisting that it was polite and "professional" to show up at one's office Christmas party. Then, he had insisted that Orken buy gifts for all of his friends. Luckily, that was not terribly many people. There were gifts for Cadmar and Maria (a combination Christmas/Thanks-for-saving-us present) and Orken had picked one out for Ilraen. Thomas had rolled his eyes when Orken had told him who the gift was for, but that didn't matter. At least he had resisted Thomas' requests to dress festively. Thomas had put on his best Santa hat and was wearing an ugly green sweater with a Christmas tree on it. Orken was wearing his usual all black atire.

Of course, he had not thought that finding the Andalite would be this difficult. It did not help matters that Thomas' priorities lay in eating chocolate covered foods and not in helping Orken locate the recipients of their gifts was not helping.

Then, Orken caught a glimpse of a man he thought he recognized. It took him a second to realize that it was Ilraen in human morph. He made his way through the crowd (resisting an attempt to put a Santa hat on his head) and, awkwardly shifting the presents he was carrying, tapped Ilraen on the shoulder.

July made a face as she saw the ghoul, and began to try scooting away from the food, hoping to not be noticed. Santa hats and expressions like that never meant good news, to her. "I think I just lost my appetite..."

___

At the drinks table, Gerry and Colt were squabbling.

" I am not going to try dunking the chocolate-covered eggnog in whiskey just because you might think it's a good idea," Gerry said, drumming her fingers on the table. Next to her, the bowl of inexplicable eggnog rippled gently, leaving the ladle bobbing.

"Oh come on, Ger!" The half-elf said. "It's practically a winter solstice party! Aren't they all about getting drunk?" He waved the bottle of whisky.

She wrinkled her nose at the strong scent. "Besides, with the amount of bleep products everyone takes it's not like actually alcohol is a good idea, I'm surprised no one has exploded yet from sheer proximity. Where did you get that, anyways?"

Right.

Huinesoron post, LunarHuntress post, Huinesoron Post, Shoe Post, Skorp post, then the post I just posted after Shoe.

And stabbings with sharped candy canes for everyone else if they make it more complicated. >:|

Aha.

Right.

Shall keep that in mind for order, noting it here for Neshomeh.

Your post Then LH's, then yours, then Shoe-anon, and all else that follows there.

Look at the times: I made my first post, LH cut in above me, I replied to her, then Anon replied to my first one.

hS

"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!

hS, we're trying to stick to keeping it one-after-another than the usual higgledy-piggledy. :P

"That..." he gasped, "Was the best Choco-ham sandwich I have ever tasted." He paused. "Mind you, it was the ONLY choco-ham sandwich I've ever tasted."

He adjusted his Santa hat and wandered over to the buffet. "My compliments to the chef...OOH!" He cheered. "Chocolate covered cheeze balls!"

... on her way to the drinks table and nodded to David. "You look like you're having as much fun as I am," she said morosely. "Are you drunk too? If not, would you like to be?" She sighed. "Not that I can possibly really be drunk... it's just hot chocolate." She paused a moment. "Why am I drunk on hot chocolate? This place is weird..." So saying, she wandered off, followed at a discreet distance by a red-haired woman.

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.

He was reading the same book he read when he lead the wizard, the ghoul and the green-skinned man to his RC. Finally, he closed it and put in one of his longcoat's many pockets.

He looked around. Masses of people were milling around, eating snacks, drinking drinks, and talking. Already the noise seemed unbearable.

Shaking his head, he headed to the snack bar. Looking at the various chocolate-covered snacks, he chuckled. "Someone here really likes chocolate," he said. Reaching into a pocket, he took a small box out of it, opening it to reveal a few cookies. He took one, then put the box on the table.

One of the most awkward moments of his life, coming a close second to the time he had dived through the window and into that girl's room. I mean how has he supposed to know she was undressing, she totally over-reacted.

Anyway he had been left wandering the halls of the HQ after his run-in with a wizard, a poetry spouting man and two rather strange ghouls. After colliding with several walls that Percy swore had appeared out of nowhere and having no luck in finding Vorce, he had managed to find his way back to the lounge area he had appeared in. And to say it had changed was an understatement.

Now he was left standing in a rather large crowd of people who had seemingly come out of nowhere and was feeling rather subconcious about his appearance, Who could miss a 6"4' person with skin the same green as a christmas tree and hair that could have come from a rather flamboyant anime character.

"Should have stuck with the ghoul" Percy muttered to himself, before heading off to try and find anyone familiar and hoping no one would stop to ask him who he was.

And let two more people into the Lounge. The tallest of the pair, a 50-year old Chinese man with greying black hair and an angular face, surveyed the room. He turned to his son who was standing behind him.

So as I was saying, you spend too much time in your Response Centre playing video games, the man said as he smoothed his FicPsych flash patch. Its about time you got out of there and interacted with something alive, for a change.

The figure sanding behind the tall man shifted slightly. He was a wiry 17 year old, with short black hair and brown eyes. He was clad completely in black, except for an urple armband he wore on his right arm. But dad, I need to know this stuff. I mean, Intelligence wont take people who dont know half the things about the continuums they protect, he replied.

Gaspard, youve been in there for over five hours, the man retorted. You can afford to take a break once in a while.

I need to get hired.

You need to unwind, said the Chinese man, pulling his son along. I even see some other interns. This isnt going to kill you or sabotage your chances at getting hired. Grow up for goodness sake.

Gaspard stared at his father. Fine, he eventually replied before heading to the snack bar. He wasn't going to stay for too long: this party was not for him. Just a few minutes, a couple of snacks, and then he would be back off to the RC to finish that Starcraft campaign he had started. On his way to the refreshments, he was waylaid by a group of partygoers who jammed a Santa hat on his head and dragged him into their conversation.

Ten minutes later, he was singing Christmas carols and chatting with the rest of the group.

Gaspard's father smiled to himself, seeing that his son wouldn't try to leave the party early, and wandered off into the crowd.

and Kestrel burst in, with Caleb, Hope, and Kieran in tow.

"CHRISTMAAAAAAAS!" the ferret shrieked, zipping away from her companions into the party. "ChristmasChristmasChristmasChristmasChristmasChristmas CHRISTMAS!"

Hope's eyes were wider and rounder than normal as she took in the decorations, the food, and the general partying around her. She reached behind her, and a glowing magic circle appeared in the air as she requipped a Santa Hat that, oddly enough, had a pair of green rabbit ears protruding from the sides. She made a motion to put it on, but seemed to hesitate and consider the the fox and vampire beside her.

"So..." Caleb murmured, looking somewhat uncomfortable in the festive atmosphere. "Kieran... where're Adder and Deuce?"

"Having a quiet Christmas in their RC, I think," Kieran replied. "They mixed some Bleepnog, made some popcorn, and found a DVD of their favorite Christmas movie in the Storage Room."

"It's a Wonderful Life?" Caleb guessed.

"No. Die Hard."

"Y'know what, I think I'll go back to the RC," Caleb said quickly. "See what Jack's up to--hey!"

Hope had taken advantage of the vampire's distraction to jam the Santa hat over his head. Caleb made an honest attempt to Death Glare her into submission, but the rabbit ears ruined the overall effect, and she pranced away, requipping a violin and accompanying her own singing.

"...This peppermint winter is so sugar-sweet, I don't need to taste to believe... What's December without Christmas Eve?"

Kaliel let herself be dragged into the Lounge by Orion, who was dressed in a suitably silly reindeer headband, a red-and-green sweatshirt, and a comfortable pair of sweats. The Harry Potter native had insisted that his partner dress up for the occasion, so here Kali was, wearing an oversized woolly sweater with a Christmas tree on it. The top of said tree had a light sewn into it that flashed on and off every few seconds; Kali had privately vowed to get suitable vengeance for the abomination, and Maeryn had agreed to help.

"You've got to get into the spirit, Kali!" Orion said as he pulled her into the Lounge. "It's Christmas. Everyone loves Christmas."

Kali managed to pull her hand away from Orion's with a sigh of relief. "As true as that may be, I'm not exactly sure what Christmas is, beyond some sort of winter festival. Remember, we didn't have it back where I came from."

Orion frowned. "But you came from the SG-1 'Verse," he said, confused. "That's Earth-based."

"Ah, but you forget, we're not from--" Kali broke off when she spotted the chocolate-covered smörgåsbord over on the food table. "That... That is a lot of chocolate. Hmm. There may be some merit to this yet."

--

The sound of PPC-themed Christmas carols heralded the arrival of Ian, Lee, and Sammy, with Ian finishing off their current rendition of 'The Twelves Sues of Christmas' with a rousing "...Two mini-Balrogs, and a single glistening tear!" The three entered the Lounge, Ian keeping a tight hold on Sammy's hand as they navigated the crowd.

"There's a good turn-out this year," Ian said, looking around at the various agents and PPC staff. He thought he saw one of the Flowers in a corner of the room, but wasn't sure.

"I'm just glad I could make it this year," Lee replied, shifting the moderately-sized pile of presents in her arms in an effort to rebalance them. "I'm going to put these under the tree before they tip over again."

"Good idea. We'll stay here."

Lee nodded and then started toward the tree, trying to focus on not spilling her precious load before she got to her destination.

Cadmar looked both directions from outside the Lounge. Then she looked up, and of course, found almost three sets of mistletoe.

"I don't SEE anyone around..." She ducked in quickly, bracing for someone to pop out. After a minute of looking foolish, she decided to try and blend in the crowd.

"Ooooh, chocolate..." She licked her lips. Grabbing a discarded christmas-y hat, she made her way off to the snack bar.

July peered at the assorted snacks, pondering what to try.

Chocolate covered pretzels, chocolate covered mints, chocolate covered orange slices, chocolate covered strawberries, chocolate covered cheese balls, chocolate covered chocolates, and what she suspected was chocolate covered ham were all within easy reach.

"Hmmm." She poked at one of the chocolate covered chocolates with a tiny plastic fork. "Someone got a it too fondue happy."

(( Hello! Before we start, just a few ground rules to keep things running smoothly:

1) When you join in, post your response to the end of whatever the most recent post is, to keep just one string of sequential posts. That way it should be easier to keep track of what's going on, and thus easier to include everyone. When the string gets too long, we'll come back to the top and start a new one off this post.

1.5) Don't worry about your characters being "late" if you can't get here until this has been going on a little while. It gets old fast, and this is an open party: people are welcome to come and go as they please. You can even write in yours as having been there the whole time if you want to.

2) Keep posts in past tense. It's easier to read if everything is in one style, and it will make it easier for me when I put the whole thing up in a log.

3) No controlling other people's characters. Some may be okay with it, but I'm not (unless you have explicit permission).

And of course, OOC stuff gets marked somehow, but you all know that. {= ) So, here we go! ))


As near as Ilraen could figure, someone almost always threw a big party in the Headquarters Lounge around the month of December. It was linked to some kind of seasonal festival in World One, and elsewhere, though he had never quite worked out the specifics; everyone he asked seemed to have a different answer. They agreed on a few things, though: there had to be decorations involving lights and shiny objects, there had to be presents, and there had to be special music and food.

The latter had been the deciding factor for his attendance at this year's party. He wanted more chances to socialize with his friends and fellow agents, which was difficult without either leaving Nume alone or spending the time to convince him to come along. Nume was adamantly anti-party, and no amount of persuasion had moved him this time. Ilraen had considered staying in, too, for his partner's sake, but finally the thought of missing out on all the rare and wondrous holiday food items overcame him. He promised at least five times to behave himself in human morph, and to bring back some for Nume, and now he was here.

As a human, he was a willowy and youthful-looking man with messy ginger hair and green eyes. He had finally gotten himself a pair of bluejeans to wear around when he needed them, and Jenni had given him a traditional knitted Christmas sweater two years ago: it was pine-green with bounding white reindeer across the breast. He liked it. It made him feel less naked without his fur. Nothing could make up for being half-blind and liable to fall over, but he had enough practice with disguises that he managed, even with his bag over one shoulder. He had gifts for his friends, in case they happened to be around.

In the Lounge, the party was already in swing. People milled about, cheery music blared over the sound system, and whoever was organizing the thing had found one of the big pine trees favored for their long-lasting needles, and strung all manner of shiny things on it. It was probably the second one in its place—someone always tried to use real candles for the lights until something burned down. Ilraen wasn't sure whether he was imagining it, but he thought he could smell a hint of burning. That could just have been the Lounge, though. It had a history of being set on fire. Ilraen couldn't pick out a single piece of furniture he recognized from his first visits here.

He did pick out the spread of snacks on the bar top to his left, though. Unable to restrain an eerie, unpracticed grin at the prospects ahead, he shifted his way through the crowd. He did want to socialize, but a little bite first couldn't hurt.

((Thanks to everyone for playing, it's been fun to hang around with you!))