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The Trio was giggling. "Oh, I think we're nothing new here, looks like you'll get used to us very fast," said Krisp. "I'm also stuck with this fraking Vulcan and this kriffing fake Southerner."
"The fracking Vulcan is right there and ready to blow your face, you frelling twit."
"Frelling twit? Your imagination is running short. You're really turning Vulcan."
"I ain't holdin' no candle for you two," said South." There ain't no way."
"You know where you can put this bleeping candle? Yes, there."
"I ain't puttin' no candle anywhere, you twat."
"Twit, twat... Is my brother also turning Vulcan? I feel so lonely."
"I think you'll be lonely very fast if you keep calling us Vulcans."
"Vulcans. Still there?"
It went on for a while before they ran out of witty comebacks and substitutes for the f-bomb.

"Infernal, Abominable, same blighting thing," he responded. "They're just spelled differently." He shot his partner an insolent grin. "Like 'Adder' and 'annoying'."

Adder raised a fist as though to punch him, and then apparently thought better of it. Instead, she rolled her eyes upward as though seeking patience, exhaled loudly, murmured "buttmunch", and pretended not to listen.

Suddenly she whipped her head around at a small plate on the counter. "Oh, thank Agnost, Bleepolate."

Deuce smiled slightly at the Infernal Trio. "That'll keep her quiet."

Through a mouthful of Bleepolate, Adder could only manage an incoherent snarl at her partner.

"So many people we won't ever get to know..." said Krisp.

"I guess I'll end up inventing this thing just to make sure we get something after Krisp," said Whatever.
"I knew it. You're really turning Vulcan."
What' took some of the drinks for himself and the rest of the Trio. "Here."

"I'm Whatever, and these are South and Krisprolls. Nice to meet you. Thanks for the drinks. Krisp, your glass is already empty?"

"Montgomery Osbert III, at your service. Most call me Osbert. I'm one of the Agent trainers in Operations, probably why we haven't met. It's a pleasure," shaking Milask's paw, he gave a small nod before releasing. "Most of us here were in the fighting, so I thought I'd ask. Consider yourself lucky, though. Was a terrible business, even if we forced them back in the end."

I propose a toast to the fallen! Jane agreed, and filled her glass with Bleepka as well.

"Is that scorch marks on that note," Milask said to no one inparticular. There were a couple of ideas that ran through his head about the origins of the party gifts, some of them Leto would not like.

"nfortunatly I was not there for the fighting. Leto had roped me into helping him install a new portal stabilizer here in the store. When we heard about it, it was too late to help or even bring the wounded here." Milask said to the man behind him.

"I don`t belive I have had the pleasure of meeting you before." Milask said. "I am Milask, origionally from the Rifts universe, though I have lost my flying ability." Milask held out his paw to the man.

It contained a second parcel of future beverages, as well as another note which said: This box contains a small Tesla Coil that will activate whenever an Agent takes more than his fair share of our gifts. It is very painful. You have been warned. Bye! -Love, the people from the future. Leto rolled his eyes. Apparently, future Agents are just as crazy as present ones.

And if there was a group, there might be a higher chance of finding the sort of person she was after. Besides, people! "Hey," she said, her accent a little less precise than usual. "Any of you play the trumpet?"

Leas poured out a reasonable measure for each of the Trio, and handed them out. "Here you go." He poured another one for himself, and smiled. "I don't think I've seen you three before. I'm Leas. Pleased to meet you." He looked over at Deryn, only to find she wasn't there any more. "Oh, dear"

As usual, half of it mysteriously disappeared.
"Krisp, will you stop stealing half of whatever is available? And please stop drinking coffee."
Krisp was already too coffee high to listen.

A small parcel came out, with the words: A gift from the future, containing several new Bleep-Products, including Bleeptea, Bleepgreentea, and Bleepcofee. Enjoy.

"Well, that's certainly fortunate", said Leto.

South and Whatev fed Krisprolls half the tea. He needed it.
"When are they going to make Bleeptea?" he said.

This time he distributed it to invididual Agents, taking note of their dietary needs (no Bleep-Sandwhiches for Avians). Jane also brewed some calming tea, thinking it a beverage fit for the occasion.

The Infernal Trio took roughly half the food before going to the bar to eat their stuff and have PG2B2s.
"Chocolate. Yummy," said Krisp.

The Infernal Trio was currently having PG2B2s too at the bar. Krisprolls's idea.
"That's Infernal Trio for you, people," Krisp said. "Well, doesn't matter. I see we're already famous. Good."
"Oh. My. Sporkin'. Glod. Krisp is doin' it again. Jokin' with random people."
"Don't be so worked up, South, it's just a party. We have plenty of time before we get serious again."
"If we ever do, you Vulcan."
"You too think I'm turning Vulcan too fast? Oh. My. Kriffing. Glod."

The Infernal Trio was busy dancing when Krisp noticed a fight near the bar. "Well, I think we should stop that," he said.
"The guy is drunk. It won't last long,' said What'.
They resumed dancing.

"I was there, idiot. I lost some of my best friends. People I grew up with. And as your friend I'm telling you, keep going the way you are and it'll kill you. And their deaths will go to waste. But you wouldn't care, would you, you selfish frakface."

The angry and slightly tipsy woman wrenched herself out of Marcus's grip and slipped into the crowd, managing to unobtrusively make it out of the room. She walked a ways down the hall and then sat down, back against the wall.

"Way too much angst, way too much drama. Just calm down, sweetie. No more vodka for you..." she mumbled to herself.

"US!" shouted the Trio.

"The hell do you know?!" He asked, forcing himself to his feet and rounding on Sara. Justified or not, her comments only served to push his buttons, which he had already been making a good showing out of pushing himself. Excluding Sues, he had never hit a woman, but the look in his eyes showed he was definitely considering knocking Sara's block off. "Y-you think you're so frackin' smart, dontcha?! Where d'ya git off, talkin' like that, y'little brat?! Disrespect, heh. At least ya prolly got t'be there!" Stepping closer to Sara, one hand grabbed the collar of her uniform, as the other snatched the now almost empty bottle and almost slammed it back on the counter. His face so close to hers, he could actually smell her breath, not that he much cared. Whoever the hell this lady thought she was, now he was just hoping she decided to make a move.

If Milask were to turn around, he'd pretty much instantly see who had spoken. While Montgomery Osbert III didn't leave Operations and his training area terribly often, the 79 year old man was still fairly easy to pick out of a crowd. Even if it weren't for his obvious age, and the fact that with Makes-Things' passing he was now the longest serving human Agent still active, his bearing, fairly simple attire, and the large red helmet he wore would have made him stand out. Like most of the others in the store, he was currently unarmed, and his hands occasionally fidgeted around as if he wasn't used to not carrying so much kit with him. Allowing himself to lean on the stereo a bit, he looked around the immediate area and the Agents that had started milling around.

"I'm surprised this store has enough foom for so many Agents," he said, adjusting his glasses. "Still, seems like there aren't terribly many of them in a festive mood. Can't say I blame them, can you? Hm...it's probably odd to ask, but I'm not sure if I saw you in the fighting, chaotic as it was. Were you there? Particularly during the fighting in Operations?" Perhaps it wasn't the best thing to ask on the anniversary of a fairly horrific event, but bluntness had always been Osbert's way. With his fairly advanced age, his memory could get a bit hazy at times, especially in events as chaotic as the Invasion, so he was trying to place if he had seen the other man before. Besides, it was better than awkward silence.

"Do our dead friends and comrades a favor and let the past be the past. You're disrespectin' them by dwelling on it and not livin' the life that they gave theirs up for. And give me back the damn vodka," she growled, snatching the bottle up and taking another generous swig.

"Coulda had a freakin' mojito," she grumbled, noting interestedly that the bottle was almost empty.