The PPC Roleplay Board - Latest posts

"Iz tink dats a gud idea," Adder agreed. "Iz weird 2 talk lyk dis. Iz like kyoot chatspeak. U guyz shud hav seen Kieran."

"I would like to stop sparkling now," Caleb said emphatically. "And I'm sure Jack would appreciate not having boobs just as much as Kestrel would."

Deuce seemed to notice Jack(ie) for the first time, and jumped back, opening his mouth in surprise. A look of panic crossed Adder's face.

A resounding (though impeccably in-tune) voice thundered from Deuce's mouth, the force of which sent a wind whipping through the RC and slammed the small agent back against the wall.

"WOAH-OH-OH-AH-AH-AH-AAAAA-HA-AH-AH-AH! WOAH-OH-OH--mmf!"

Adder had managed to reach Deuce's side and was holding his jaws shut with both hands. "Sry!" she squeaked.

An unearthly shrieking was coming from Jack(ie) as she slowly stood up, eyes fixed on the Floaters. With a muttered swear word, Caleb dug into his pocket and produced a small paper bag, which he shoved into Jack(ie)'s claws. The Witch calmed down almost immediately and sat back down with her treat.

"Sugar. Thought that might happen." Caleb glared at Deuce. "Don't do that again."

"Wuz not his falt!" Adder protested.

(If you're confused about Deuce, the poison joke makes this come out of his mouth every time he opens it: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wCNICT2en_U

Also, I'll be gone for the next three days at freshman orientation for college. So if you guys continue this RP, you have my permission to use my agents as you see fit. Go nuts; it'll give me something to look forward to when I get back.)

I am not a kitten, Lee said, and then after a moment's pause: Or at least, not normally. I agree, something is going on, but I doubt it's a TF gun. It feels almost like magic, and trust me, I know my magic.

"It could have been the work of some nut job with a TF gun."

"So one nut job with one TF gun managed to rampage through the entirety of HQ without being seen? Never mind that TF guns don't get this drastic."

"An... invisible nut job with an invisible TF gun!"

"I'm revoking your talking privileges."

Kirill sat down heavily on the floor, leaning his back against the Undefined Surface of the wall. His lower back was really getting to him. He growled, muttering imprecations against fantasy artists.

"OK, let's think about this. I assume this is the work of some wizard, or something. What do we need to do? Find them first, peel them like a grape second. Unless someone has some kind of disenchanting ability?"

"Oh good," Evie snarked. "We've got a whole freak show now."

The Fisherman was still nursing his leg after being attacked by Lee. "So what have we got," he said. "A humanoid fish, a Personality Core, a kitten, yarn-hair, fire-head, a disembodied skull and an elf. Assuming none of us normally look like this, we need to figure out what's going on here. Any ideas, 'cause I haven't a clue!"

Adder nodded miserably. "Deuce got da short end uv da stickk," she announced. "Cuz wen he openz his mouf..." She looked at her partner expectantly.

In answer, Deuce shook his head vigorously and clapped his hands over his mouth. Caleb raised an eyebrow.

"What? Toads drop out? Very Grimm's Fairy Tales, don't you think?"

"Iz nut wat happenz," Adder told him. "he beltz out face meltarz."

Jack(ie) had seated herself on the ground at Caleb's feet, and reverted back to sobbing into her claws.

"Sorry about that. I snapped. It's not everyday that I'm shrunk to this new height.. well this low."
She growled as DRake yipped.
"I just wish what's going on."
She then smiled.
"Good job there Stormong. And Molly? "
she looks at her.
"I do wish that you had that last time. I'm still sore from when you ran into me last time."
She shook her head.
"Say.. Silly question, but think we should head to medical? Maybe they know? I don't suppose one of us has a medical tricorder laying around?"

"Speaking of which, what's wrong with Molly?" asked Foxglove, waddling awkwardly into the corridor, unused to her new size. "She looks fine, but I'm guessing there is something up."

"Bloody right there's sumfin' up!" yelled Molly. "I can't 'ardly walk, is wot's up!" She tried to walk, managed one wobbly, dragging step, and collapsed against the wall. "Feels like I got concrete shoes or sumfin'."

Laburnum, meanwhile, had got bored and was merrily running up and down the corridor, singing at the top of her lungs. Stormsong held out a footpaw and tripped her. Laburnum yelped, then giggled.

The former Fallout Ghoul sighed. "I am now a talking chicken." He said to no one in particular. Gurgan looked around the empty RaE lab where he had been napping-er, studying dilligently to become a full-fledged member of the PPC, yessirree, no napping here-and took a deep breath. "I did not enter this room as a chicken. I entered it as a ghoul." He let that sink it for a while then came to a realization. "I have never needed a smoke so badly in my 285 years of living."
Gurgan reached for the pack of cigarettes he kept in his boot...only to touch the yellow, scaly legs and claws of his new form. "Where are my boots?" Then it hit him. "WHERE ARE MY CLOTHES?" Then it hit him again. "WHERE ARE MY $#()$%*)@#$(*$ CIGARETTES?!"
The angry ghoul-turned rooster bolted out of the lab. (Or, bolted as best a chicken could. More of a fast strut, really.) Someone was going to pay!

"Do you think I'm sparkling because I like it?" he snapped. "Look, I don't know what you think I can do, but 'turning down the bling,' as you call it, isn't one of them!"

The sobbing stopped suddenly, to be replaced by disturbed groaning. Jack(ie) had lowered her claws from her face and was looking at them with narrowed glowing eyes.

"Pleeeease, guys, keep the noise down," she whined. "It hurts my ears. It's annoying..."

Kestrel swore under her breath and quickly took Artemis off of Stormsong's paws. "Bugger, th' zombie's a Witch now. Yer know wot, I fink I'll jest go back t' me RC, wait for wotever in Hellgates this is t' blow over." The ferret dashed out, nearly running into Adder and Deuce, who were approaching the doorway.

At the sight of Caleb, Deuce waved emphatically, and Adder looked relieved. "We can haz halp, plz?" she asked, her voice unusually high. "Sumting b rong wit us." She looked at Skyfire, startled. "Ur colerfull!"

Now that was something he was on better terms with. Suicide paused when she touched his arm, running a hand through his shaggy gray hair (doing absolutely nothing for it; the man seemed to generate an internal scruffiness field).

"It's too late," he said cheerfully. "You've gone and fed me after midnight, and now you're stuck with me." The gremlin analogy seemed appropriate, especially considering that he'd left several bite marks. "The Universal Laws have probably lined up another mission for me, but--" He momentarily contemplated the virtues of when I get back versus if I get back, and decided to slither out of the issue by doing a quick rephrase "--but I'll be coming by again as soon as I can. I'd say feel free to drop by the RC, but--Mithiriel." The name spoke volumes: Lemon-Pledge-scented, Glare-of-Doom-wielding volumes.

He moved towards the door, but stopped himself halfway through the motion. Jenni still seemed a bit on edge, and it seemed to him that a couple of things hadn't been covered yet.

"Thanks," he said to her. The word came out oddly, a little blunt, but with feeling. "You're a good woman." Ouch, rhetoric was definitely not his bag--yet that was the only way to put it as far as he was concerned. He couldn't picture her telling someone to come back with their shield or on it, but citizen women were worthy for more than just their stoicism. There was something horribly ironic about him holding up standards for what made a 'good' person, especially considering that he routinely got rid of self-proclaimed good people, but he could only go by what he remembered and knew for himself. Like his own impending death, it was a certainty. "Friends?"

"Okay.. this seems familiar, but nah, can't be that. "
She bapped drake on the nose and climbed up onto him, then guided him into the room.
"THis is weird of course. If it was only a single effect on all of us, it would make sense. But it seems to vary."
She closed her eyes at Caleb.
"Say... sparkly boy.." she said iritably, "Can you turn down the bling?" she snapped out. She was being annoyed. Being onyl 5 inches high was really getting to her. Add to the fact she was wearing a scrap of cloth as a toga as her clothes had not shrunk with her, she could understand.
"Although, this does seem a bit familiar. Say, Laburnum, reminds me of someone familiar."
Suddenyl drake yipped and started prancing around. Naomi fell off, but then snapped her fingers.
"Oh.. right. Fox, remember that vacation? Doesn't Lab remind you of a certain pink pony?"

"Technically I do look like a Yiffstar character, just a very specific type," said Foxglove sulkily. She opened the door, revealing that she was wearing Laburnum's dressing gown. Laburnum was a big girl and tended to wear clothes made for someone even bigger, which was fortunate; the dressing gown just about fit Foxglove now, as her personal transformation had caused her to roughly double in bulk.

"Looks like I gained in pounds what my partner lost in IQ points ..." she grumbled, then looked up and blinked at Skyfire, Kestrel, Caleb, and Jack(ie). "Wow. Okay, yeah, yours are much worse."

"Thank you so much," said Skyfire. "So am I to assume you didn't actually have anything to do with this?"

"Hell no!" Foxglove snapped. "If I had, I wouldn't have done this to myself! And frankly Laburnum's dangerous enough when she's not hyperactive, so I wouldn't have done that either." She peered out into the corridor, where Stormsong had just about managed to get the two little boys under control. "How'd you get away with it, Stormy? Nothing seems to have happened to you."

Stormsong mouthed something.

"What?"

Stormsong's face contorted as if he was yelling. All that happened was a thin wheezing noise emitted from his throat.

"Ah."

Jenni got up after him, smiling a little uncertainly. She felt like she'd put a foot wrong, but somehow landed the right way up anyway, and without being able to explain any of it. He seemed almost as confused as she was, which was no help. Maddening. Well, no time to figure it out now. She would have to hope for another chance.

She shrugged at his last remark, and her smile took a firmer hold. "What can I say, I was made this way. You're not so bad yourself." She winked, and then reached out to touch his arm above the elbow in a forestalling gesture. "Listen, speaking of time . . . I know scheduling anything is impossible, but would you keep me posted when you're around? And feel free to just drop in. If I'm in the department, my door is usually open."

She refrained from spelling out just how much she was interested in seeing him again. When rule number one was "no promises," it seemed like that would be overstepping a boundary on her part. An open line of communication and standing invitation would have to do.

Pending either her assignment to an Agent pair or her approval to become a full Agent, Intern Ally Malet spent her time in an empty Response Center, reading guidebooks to the PPC, memorising possible charge lists and repeating the Sunflower Official's list of reasons as to why she was never going to be allowed back in her home continuum with pride. Considering her former life as a citizen of District Eight in the Hunger Games-verse, this was a much better life, even if she had nearly nothing to do.

Ally strongly reconsidered this view the moment she looked in the mirror, that morning.
Her eyes were purple. Her skin, normally tanned from years of working out of doors, was soft and white. Her plain features had become beautiful, her strong, muscular arms now resembled that of an eight-year-old's, and her hair, usually very short and carrot-red, had become long and a rather vivid shade of green. In short, she now resembled the two things she despised the most- citizens of the Capitol, and Mary Sues.

Her eyes narrowed. For a moment, she considered her new appearance, before speaking in a low, flat tone.
"Someone is going to die for this."
Unfortunately for her homicidal plans, Ally found that not only could she no longer lift her prized axe, just trying to grasp it made her hands hurt. Cursing, she found her long knife, and after slipping her urple arm band on, she walked into the corridors of PPC HQ, looking for answers.

----
Grace Leon, an intern of DoSAT, was awakened from her light doze at her workstation by a rather loud explosion. Shrugging it off as just another day in DoSAT, she reached for her glasses and knocked them aside, frowning at her apparent clumsiness. After a few tries, she managed to pick her glasses up and put them on. The moment her hand came into view, she froze. Her hands were now huge, her fingers thick and stubby. Her eyes widened in horror and she let out a small shriek, frantically looking around for any spilt potions or malfunctioning machinery that could have caused it. Finding none, she got up and made her way to the exit, holding her hands out in front of her. On the way, she caught a look at herself in a shiny, reflective piece of metal, and let out another scream before running straight out of DoSAT.

----
Fingering the hilt of her knife, Ally was walking down the corridor for what seemed like the fifth time, until a screaming figure ran right into her, knocking her down.
"OW!" she exclaimed crossly, shoving the other figure off her and climbing to her feet. She looked around for her knife and saw it a few metres away. Once she'd grabbed it, she turned back to the person who'd run into her.

"My hair! My hands! My hair! Oh God, *my hair*!" the other woman gabbled.
Ally didn't see what was wrong. The woman, whose urple armband marked her as a fellow intern, had short white hair, nothing out of the ordinary. Her hands did seem grossly oversized, though.
Ally grimaced and tried to be comforting. "Er... calm down?"
"MY HANDS! MY HAIR!"
"What's so bad about your hair?" Ally asked, trying to make sense of it.
"It's just like hers..." the woman gasped.
Ally looked at her quizzically before deciding not to ask. "What's your name?"
"Grace. Grace Leon."
"Well, Grace, let's go see if we can find someone who can help. Maybe Doctor Fitz?"
"Sounds good," Grace nodded, managing to calm down. After a few seconds of walking, she said awkwardly, "I'm sorry I knocked you over."
"Eh, don't worry about it," Ally shrugged.
They kept walking, determined to find answers.

EEEEEEEE! Thankyouthankyouthankyouthankyouthankyou~! *hugs, bounces off*

"Good!" Kirill said with a grin. "Fresh blood!" He pulled open his shirt, looking for his flask of scumbat (two parts scumble to one part bumbat) but it wasn't forthcoming- it appeared to have vanished along with the rest of his clothes.

"Listen, do you people have any scissors or fishing wire?" Kirill said. "What?" His companions had taken on a variety of expressions, from mildly embarrassed to shocked. He glanced down to see his shirt still swinging open. "Oh, right. Damn." He started buttoning it up again. "Why are elves always so well-endowed?"

You can play, I think. Your Agents would be interns, though, I'd say.

"Well, this is embarrassing." Emm scrambled to his feet.

"At least you didn't drop me this time."

"You complain a lot. It's unhealthy."

"I'm a skull. The rest of my skeleton is back in the RC. I don't think I could get more unhealthy."

Should I take the lack of response as a no?

Ian fell to the floor, instinctively curling his body so that he didn't squish Lee in the process. He managed to keep hold of her, though both of them were mildly stunned by their abrupt descent, so Lee didn't try to escape too hard.

What in the gods' names was that? Lee asked woozily, her mental voice able to be heard by everyone in the area.

Ian was abruptly crashed into from behind by Emm. The fact that his hair was currently made of fire probably wouldn't help matters.

"I'll lead the way!" Emm declared, striding confidently ahead of Kirill.

"You do remember how you passed the same portrait of the Sunflower Official five times on our way here, right?"

"It could have been five different portraits of the Sunflower Official."

"Why would there be five different yet identical portraits of the Sunflower Official?"

"The painter could have really liked the Sunflower Official."

"Is it possible to like any of the Flowers?"

"Well, maybe he was a Flow-"

SMACK. Having not been looking where he was going, Emm had walked straight into Ian from behind. HQ was capricious like that.

Lee hissed as the water hit her, and then went flying as the Fisherman's sudden movements dislodged her. Ian dove to catch her before she hit the floor, but missed by a little bit. He got to his feet and quickly scooped up Lee before she could attack the Fisherman any more.

"Sorry about that," Ian said, holding tight to the squirming mass of fur and claws that was currently his partner. "She doesn't usually attack random people in the middle of HQ."

"Bite me, sweet pea," Caleb deadpanned at Naomi's exclamation. "Can we come in? Misery loves company." Without actually waiting for express permission, he stalked into the room. Still sniveling wretchedly, Jack(ie) stumbled after him.

At the sight of Moses fluttering about with wings of his own, Artemis gave a loud (if a bit sibilant) noise of joy and swooped out of Kestrel's arms to hurl himself into the back of Stormsong's neck. Had anyone present been able to understand Parseltongue, they would have known he was proclaiming, "Wings! Mosey 'ave wings! Mosey fly!"

Kestrel left Stormsong to her adoptive son's mercy and stalked into the RC, arms still wrapped around herself. "Best come out, Foxglove," she growled. "Wotever 'tis, can't be worse'n bein' turned into a bleedin' Yiffstar character."