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Though he hesitated for a second, before long he had also started to dance, trying to make out what music the stereo had changed to as he started moving to the beat. He had never been much of a dancer, but he figured he may as well try. Somehow he managed to move well enough that he didn't accidentally knock anyone out with his bulk, helped by Agents who saw the giant Irishman start to move decided to give his spot on the floor more of a berth, and eventually started to settle into a kind of rhythm, though he still didn't move as well as Jessie seemed to be. He still didn't know where his brother had gone, but he was sure the guy was doing fine on his own, even if it was odd for so many Agents to just be hanging out, no missions going on at the moment and no danger of Sues.

Funny to think this was a battlefield a year ago.

"Yeah. Getting drunk too easily, among other things... but I won't go into that now." She eyed the table for a moment, debating whether or not to get another drink, but turned her attention back to Troy as he continued talking. "Hm? Get off my feet? Probably an idea, I'm sure there are plenty of people who'll tell you I get wobbly when I've had too much."

She picked up another drink anyway, resolving to make it last longer this time, and smiled up at him.

"If you see no mess in this area, your scanners need serious revising. There have been some fights, heavy drinking, not only on our parts, bantering, the same, and what have you. And I think saying 'meatbags' for 'organic beings' won't please everyone. We don't mind, we're too crazy for that, but if you ever come across someone who does, you'll remember it for the rest of your life, and that won't be long. By the way, we're organic beings, even if we may not look completely organic. And you didn't alarm us. We've been through much, much worse, we're a bit jaded now."

She shrugged it off. "I suppose you're right. I just think too much about that kind of thing, especially when I keep remembering I could have been one of them."

With that, she shook her head, not wanting to dwell on the time she'd had to spend in Medical recovering, and forced a smile. "I'm sure they would. You're right, let's at least try to be cheerful for their sakes." She tugged him further onto the dance floor and began dancing, losing herself in concentrating on the music.

"That what your friends were ripping on you about?" he asked her, drinking his own cocktail more carefully before setting down the empty glass and exhaling. "That's pretty good stuff," he said. "Not the strongest I've ever had, but definitely pretty good. Hm...you know, you're not bad either," behind his sunglasses, he winked a little at the girl, though it was unlikely she saw him do so. "I know a few places, if you think you need to get off your feet for a bit."

"I understand that we should respect the dead, but that also means we shouldn't be letting ourselves get down in the dumps about it. I don't think they'd have wanted us to waste their sacrifice like that, that would be more disrespectful than total irreverance, I believe."

Placing his hands in his pockets so he wouldn't accidentally hit anyone or anything like that, he looked at Jessie's leg as she shifted her weight. "Your leg alright?" he asked, nodding to the leg that, unknown to him, had started cramping up. "Can't blame you for not exactly enjoying the atmosphere, I know it still feels odd to me, but think of it as honouring our comrades the way they'd have wanted to. If it was them here right now, they'd probably pay us tribute the same way."

Luke shrugged, before turning his eye on Osbert. "Hey, I have a first name, you know," he objected mildly. "Just 'cause you prefer your surname doesn't mean everyone does. It's Luke, 'kay?"

After a moment, he cast around for a suitable topic of conversation, not that he thought Marcus would be able to contribute much to any talk. "How many of these kind of things have you seen, Osbert?" he enquired, gesturing at the party in general. "I mean, you've been here a while, so you must have seen a few."

Cassie quirked her eyebrow at Troy, then smiled and raised her own glass in a reply. "To canon," she echoed, before downing the glass's entire contents in a single gulp.

A few moments later, she regretted doing that. "Whoops," she said with a slightly embarrassed giggle as she put the glass down and swayed a little. "I need to learn not to drink too quickly, it went to my head..."

If Osbert was amused by Luke's little trick, he didn't show it, instead nodding sternly. "Celinus is right, Langston. Not to mention whatever horrors you just inflicted upon your liver," he said, immediately before finishing off what brandy was left in his glass. "Probably best if you stay here a bit, Langston, can tell you'll practically have to be carried out if you wanna go anywhere."

"Fine, fine, whatever," Marcus said, already starting to feel the headache that would only come in full force the next morning. "So's what ya wann' be doin'?"

"I've tried a bunch of different kinds, can't say there's one I prefer over every other," he said, following Cassie towards the table. "Never tried a Sonic Screwdriver before, suppose I'll try one. Wonder if it'll be any better than Bleeprum." Reaching the table, he took a glass filled with the mentioned beverage, looking to Cass before raising the glass in a mock-toast. "To canon, and the brave lads who die for it."

and then back up at Troy, smiling. "Nice to meet you too. And yeah, I've been enjoying the party. Up till my friends starting taking the rip out of me for something that happened ages ago," she grumbled.

At the mention of drinks, she decided that she did want one. "Sounds like a great idea. I was on my way to get another, actually." With that, she moved towards the table. "What's your favourite? I prefer Sonic Screwdrivers, myself."

Straightening himself up after introducing himself, he had another look at Cassie. She had blonde hair, and a pair of rectangular glasses that framed her face nicely, in his opinion. Not exactly short, but she was a good few inches smaller than he was, with a sort of perpetually untidy look about her, especially when she'd clearly had a few too many drinks. She looked to be a bit on the chunky side, but wasn't fat or anything, looked like she had a nice shape to her.

"Nice to meetcha," Troy said, as if he hadn't been taking the time to check Cassie out. "Enjoying the party so far? I thought it'd be a real gloomy affair, but it's been fun. Fancy another drink? Was gonna go over and get some for myself anyway, worked up a bit of a thirst on the dance floor." Laughing a little, he looked around, finding a drinks table not too far from where they stood. "There's a table right over there, if you're interested."

"Well, I thought we were humans but this explains why we look half our age... and the mess was us bantering, we do that all the time."
"Like it matters, 'cause we do the same as regular 'meatbags' out there since we turned human."
"Krisp said it all."

Luke made himself comfortable and shook his head at his friend. "Maybe it's for the best," he said consolingly, patting Marcus' shoulder. "You're going to have one hell of a hangover as it is."

He glanced at Osbert, wondering what the old guy thought of his move, and took another gulp of his beer. No point in denying himself just because Marcus had got himself rat-arsed. On that note... almost automatically, he cast one eye around the general area, checking to see if there were any pretty girls nearby.

He was mildly alarmed to find the vodka bottle gone, looking around the bar to see if it had fallen. "Wha? Wheredit git to?" he asked, more to himself than anything, sounding rather frustrated. Eventually letting out a sigh, he seemed to give up, resting his head on his arms. "Summun' made off 'ith me drink," he muttered sadly. "N' respect, I tells ya."

"No comment," was all Osbert said in response to this.

couldn't see Luke, so accepted what her companion said with a shrug. "Can't see him doing that. He's always been after girls as long as I've known him."

Shifting her weight from one foot to the other to ease the slight cramp, Jessie nodded at Murphy's friendly enquiry. "Can't say I've been enjoying myself as such, the occasion being what it is, but things haven't been going too badly." Resisting the impulse to touch the scar - it seemed to be tingling, for some reason - she gestured around at the dancers. "Everyone else seems to be trying to have fun, so I thought I'd make an effort."

However, it wasn't long before his voice system booted up again, having waited for the Trio to finish. "EXPLANATION: I RAN A DIAGNOSTIC SCAN ON THE THREE OF YOU IN ORDER TO DETERMINE IF WE HAVE ENCOUNTERED EACH OTHER BEFORE. IN MY SCAN I FOUND THAT NEITHER OF YOU ARE MEATBAGS, OR INDEED BIOLOGICAL AT ALL, THOUGH YOUR EXTERNAL APPEARANCES ARE THAT OF MEATBAGS. IT IS A SIMPLE PROCESS, THAT ONLY TOOK A FEW SECONDS WITH THE COMPUTING ABILITIES PROGRAMMED INTO ME. APOLOGETIC STATEMENT: I DID NOT MEAN TO ALARM YOU."

He went silent again, the whirr of machinery audible as he scanned the immediate area. "CORRECTION: I SEE NO 'MESS' IN THE IMMEDIATE VICINITY," he eventually said, still performing visual and diagnostic scans to determine the source.

Shrugging as the much smaller woman apologised for the inconvenience, he snickered a bit at Jessie's description of her partner. He'd met the man a few times, especially since Luke had a particular interest in collecting guns, and Jessie's description seemed pretty accurate. The guy really would hit on anything vaguely female, it seemed. James half wondered how the guy went through missions without trying to get in the Sue's pants. Looking around, taking advantage of his height to see clear over the heads of almost everyone in attendance, he eventually spotted what looked like Luke near the bar, talking with two other male Agents. While he couldn't make them out 100%, they looked like Osbert, one of the more well-known Agent trainers, and Langston, who was another occasional customer of his.

"Well, the good news is he's not hitting on anyone right now, unless he's suddenly decided to switch orientations on us," he told Jessie, looking back down to her. "Hm, wonder where the bloody hell my brother went. Hard to keep track of someone that short sometimes. Anyway, what've you been up to? Enjoying yourself?"

"Who. The. Hell. Is. This. SAVM. Guy," said Krisp. "How does he know we were tall ships before? Because now we're humans, as far as I know."
"Dunno," What' answered. "Well, I'm Whatever, and these are Krisprolls and South. Well, these are nicknames because our names are mostly unpalatable, especially mine. We're known as the Infernal Trio since some pissed off guy had this idea to call us that."
"'Twas Guayas, I think. A guy after my own heart."
"I guess so, Krisp. Crazy guy, this one. Guayas, I mean. Well, both."
"Thanks a lot, What'."
"I ain't holdin' the candle."
"Stop repeating yourself, old bag."
"Stop that, you two."
"Same remark for you, Vulcan."
"Oh dear. Sorry for the mess, SAVM."

Cassie looked up at him, still feeling sheepish about Zach. Examining the guy, who for some reason was wearing sunglasses indoors, she wondered why the heck all the guys she seemed to run into were so bloody tall.

"I'm fine, thanks. Sorry about that, I wasn't really paying attention to where I was going." She glanced down at her glass, wondering whether or not she really fancied a drink. "Oh, um. Sorry. I'm Cassie." She nudged her glasses back up her nose and smiled.

"OBSERVATION: YOUR BICKERING APPEARS TO BE IRRITATING EACH OTHER. SUGGESTION: CEASE ABOVEMENTIONED BICKERING, AND ENJOY THE PARTY. ADMONISHMENT: THE DEAD WOULD RATHER YOU NOT SPEND THIS COMMEMORATION INSULTING EACH OTHER, I BELIEVE."

Sufficiently Advanced Vending Machine, better known as "SAVM" or sometimes "Savey" (by his partner), had kept silent for most of the party so far, appearing to be merely a vending machine placed against one of the walls. In fact, nobody had actually seen him enter, not even his partner, he just seemed to be there, making an exception of his rule of not dispensing drinks to "meatbags" in light of the events that had happened before his programming had been complete. The DoSAT technician that had made him included a program of the entire history of the PPC, so he knew what had happened and one of his databases had a complete list of the casualties, but the sentient vending machine had only been completed a few months after the events. Performing a quick scan of the three in front of him, he concluded that they were not Agents he knew of. Not only that, but they were apparently androids.

"INTRODUCTION: I AM SUFFICIENTLY ADVANCED VENDING MACHINE, SAVM, DEPARTMENT OF BAD SLASH. PLEASED STATEMENT: IT IS INTERESTING TO SEE FELLOW NONORGANIC AGENTS HERE, AS YOU ARE CLEARLY NOT MEATBAGS. QUERY: ARE YOU THREE NEW AGENTS? I HAVE NOT SEEN YOU BEFORE."

So far, the party was just starting to get fun, far as he was concerned. He still hadn't found that girl, but he was working up a good sweat dancing, had managed to put away a few nice drinks, and was overall having a good time. He did wonder where Roy went, but before he could contemplate the location of his partner much longer he emerged from the crowd at one point of the dance floor and almost knocked over a young woman that was edging around the majority of the other dancers, mostly since he'd been distracted by the random fireworks.

"Gah!" Jumping back a bit, he gave the girl a once-over to make sure he hadn't smashed into her, shaking his head. It looked like he'd managed to get out of the way in time, at least. "Heh, sorry," he said, allowing his eyes to wander behind his sunglasses. He had to admit, the girl wasn't bad-looking, though at the moment he couldn't tell if she was the one he'd seen earlier. "Didn't see you there until I almost plowed into ya. You alright?"

... What' found Krisp and South holding each other.
"I thought I was used to it, but I guess I'm still afraid of these," said Krisp with a shivering voice. South wasn't saying a thing: he was too scared. What' didn't feel that good, either. "Guess we still have our triggers since these bombings... Looks like we're not the only ones here to have lived this war. Don't worry guys, it's only fireworks."
"I know, I know," said Krisp. "It's just... I can't help remebering the time... well I guess South does too. Well, South, these things go up, not down, there's no danger here."
"Thanks, Krisp, I... I think I'm OK now."
The two of them then managed to get themselves together and enjoy the show.

Despite his size, she'd never felt intimidated by the oversized Irishman. "Thanks. Same here," she replied to his first statement, grinning and adding, "Not that anything could do much damage to you, huh?"

On hearing about her latest order, she shook her head a little. "Sorry, didn't realise it'd be that much of a nuisance to get hold of. I'll come by later, sure. But chatting sounds like a good idea. It's not as though I'm in a massive rush anywhere; for one thing, I'd have to round up Luke and detach him from whoever he's hitting on first." She rolled her eyes, sure Big Murphy'd know what she meant. The flirt machine she'd been partnered with since joining the PPC still grated on her nerves at times.

"I wouldn't bother tryin'," Nat advised Zach, looking rather amused. "If she wants ta get plastered, let 'er. I'll just make sure she doesn't get 'er 'ands on you again."

"Seconded," Kelvin added with a smile.