The PPC Roleplay Board - Latest posts

I gift thee with an egg whisk! It's shiny, gold-plated...and, hey, it whisks eggs! However, it may also be utilized in the whisking of author wraiths and spambots. Use it for good and not evil.

Welcome to the insanity!

The tan, dark-haired young woman sat cross-legged in a corner, her vivid blue eyes watching all warily as she hugged a large bowl of candy to her chest. A long crysknife lay sheathed next to her, and her green tunic and tan trousers were made of a simple, homespun cloth.

"A strange Offworld custom," she mumbled to herself through a mouthful of chocolate, "but a good one."

A young man leans against the wall, arms folded. He's wearing a black eye-mask, a long black trench/frock-coat, high black leather boots, black trousers, a dark red waistcoat and a white frilly shirt, the lace cuffs of which fall over his hands. He's also grinning in a rather worrying manner.

... her nose briefly wrinkling at the papery decor. She ignored it, smoothing her hands down the fabric of her blue dress. Most of the fabric was pulled to gather at the small of her back, where it billowed out dramatically, beautifully, save that it also acted as a dry mop for the dusty floor. Noticing this, she sighed.

"Ah, well," she muttered. "Can clean it later."

Making her way to the centre table, Madame Meru stumbled over a very small pumpkin and proceeded to kick it aside with a scowl. Reaching her goal, she took up a glass of water - yes, water, for now - and looked at her companions over the rim of her thin glasses. "May I presume that we will be guessing one another's identities at the end of this... 'party'?"

Hiro twitched at the waist - the amputated stump of a reflexive Japanese bow rearing its head.

"Hiro Protagonist," he said with a smile. "Last of the freelance hackers and greatest swordfighter in the world."

Hiro looked down at the finger on his chest, and then back at Sheryl's face, smiling faintly.

"I'm afraid I'm already spoken for," he said. "My apologies."

A young girl in a red dress sneaks into the party. Her wine-red dress has a flower rosette on one shoulder and small dots of...some glitter-like substance lining the hem. She wears a brown leather belt that looks a bit like a corset.
The girl also has a mask on. It is brown, with peacock and eagle feathers trimming it. She is wearing a little makeup and her black hair is actually combed for once, and done up with a barette.
"I know I look a little Sue-ish right now, but I don't have anything else in the closet right about now," she mutters to anyone who stares at her as she makes her way to the table of bleep drinks, tripping over random pumpkins.

Sheryl looked up at the newcomer, cool eyes assessing him as a smile graced her lips. Pushing off from the wall she sauntered over to him.

"Hi, I don't believe I've seen you around before," Sheryl purred, running a finger down his chest. "What's your name, big boy?" She had a sort-of boyfriend, but he wasn't there and she wasn't with him as such, and no one said she couldn't flirt.

A young man of indeterminate origin enters the room, and leans on a wall a ways away from Sheryl. His face is somewhat asian, but very dark. He wears a black T-shirt with "Cosa Nostra Pizza" printed on the back, and black jeans almost hiding a pair of boots. A katana, in its sheath, is strapped to his hip.

I see dead trees. Everyday. At school, at home,in the printer. Sometimes the bodies are used more then once. O.O

Enjoy the creepiness.

A young woman leaned on the wall, blue eyes closed as she waited for other partygoers to turn up. She wore a short, blue sleeveless dress, which was longer in the back than the front, over a half-sleeved white blouse, with a large pink bow tied around her neck. Her hands and forearms were covered by spotless white gloves, and a chunky bangle dangled from one wrist. Her pink and blonde hair was topped by a blue beret the same colour as her dress, and she wore a pair of tan-coloured knee-length heeled boots on her feet. A half-empty can of soda dangled from one hand as she flipped her hair back to reveal a single earring, an iridescent purple gem hanging delicately within a golden rhombus and connected to her ear by a wire so fine it was invisible but for the single bead halfway down it.

Welcome to the PPC Board Halloween Costume Party! This will be going on the whole weekend (24-26), so I hope you enjoy.

I hope you wore your costume, because this is a masquerade. I'm not in mine yet, since otherwise it'd be obvious.

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The (secondary) Board has been decorated in an impressively slapdash way. Orange and black streamers decorate the room, and pumpkins of various sizes litter the floors, waiting to be tripped over. In the center of the room is a table cluttered with bowls of candies. Next to the table is a cooler of sodas and and various bleep drinks.

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When you make your introductory post in here, make sure to describe your costume. Your username can be of a canon character, and the actual 'costume', the description, can be as creative or accurate as you care to be.

This will be going on in here and in the Bravo chat as well.

Have fun!

Liadan looked around, wondering how she could have gotten lost on the way to the Cafeteria when she had been right next to everyone. Pulling out her wand again, she checked the doors as the Ypurs headed down the corridors to the Sunflower Official's office.

"Ostendium Veneficus!" She cried, hitting the lock with her wand. When nothing happened, she sighed, swishing her wand. "Revealo arcanum?" Her wand, becoming sympathetic to her uncanonical spells, shimmered with a pearly light. The doors lit up, displaying a hand print, and oddly, the shadowed imprint of a staff.

"Well, that can't be good." Liadan muttered. "Know anyone who uses a magical staff?"

hates the athletic Sue's like only an artsy, bookworm of a stick figure girl can.

A Watcher of Narnia is dead.

"Doesn't ANYONE know?" she asked. When all she recieved were blank faces (strained, of course, but the wind and noise of passing ypur - there were certainly more than fifty now), she brightened and declared, "Right! He's going to the office of the Sunflower Official!"

"And just how do you expect that to be true?" muttered Nathan.

Floating above, the Ironic Over-Power was taking notes.


[[Yes, that double post was me screwing up. Sorry.]]

as about fifty blue ypur, smelling sausage, charged out of the cafeteria doors. Iza yelped and hid, but the other agents kept their heads, and used whatever flashy or noise-making weapons they had to keep the ypur from branching off into the wrong corridor - though with the scent of food on the air, that wasn't too likely. The mini-Balrogs had great fun burning a few blue ankles.

Sedri, behind the door, reached out to grab Cassie's arm. "Where's Tyler going?"

"How am I supposed to know where you're leading them to?" Nathan asked irritably. "I'm not the one in command of this outfit, but if no one else is going to step up, I will. All else fails, roll a scatter dice and pick somewhere to lead them. I am new here, but surely you people have someplace to keep dangerous creatures in relative safety."

While Nat and Cassie joined the other agents, Tyler looked around frantically. "But- wait! Where am I meant to be leading them to?"

Sedri opened the door, and the pale man sprinted off towards the nearest corridor.

Sedri glared at the "if you die" comment, but, being pleased that something was finally happening, did not make her usual snappish remark about not taking orders. "Fine," she said, striding up to the door. "But I dare you to try that 'I'm an officer!' routine with the Flowers."

Tyler, looking betrayed and very, very pale, held the sausages tightly. Iza gave him a big hug.

The other agents shrugged and shifted, hoisting whatever weapons they had as the mini-Balrogs crouched eagerly, waiting to pounce. There was tension. There was fear. There was eye-rolling. Nathan examined the prepared group, making one last check before giving the order to proceed.

Sedri rolled her eyes and, without waiting, opened the door.


[[Not meaning to step on your toes, but taking orders is not, in my experience, something that PPC Agents tend to be good at. Also, you're still using present tense - if we're not careful, there's going to be a time-space breach soon.]]

I'm not ignoring this section, but I'll post the next bit under Winter's one above.]]

[[It was from a mission her partner had just been on; the nerfs were the misplaced fauna.]]

"Very clear," said Rosalie.
"WE O-BEY!" said Omicron. "SEEK AND LO-CATE! LO-CATE AND LURE BACK! LURE BACK AND RE-JOICE!"

"Enough!" Nathan snaps. "We seem to be getting nowhere, so I hereby assert my authority as an officer of the Imperial Inquisition to put a boot in your collective rear end or analogous anatomical feature and get moving! Rosalie, put the sausages wherever we need the lure the things. Tyler or whatever your name is, congratulations! You've been promoted to bait-take some of the sausage and stand by the door-be ready to run like hell when the door opens. Sedri, you're on the door-on my command, open the door and throw out the sausage-if you die, at least Tyler will be able to pick up where you failed. Everyone with one of those mini-daemons, cover fire-I don't want the Ypurs running loose. Keep them following the sausage. Have I made myself clear?"

[[Don't mean to be stepping on anyone's toes here-just trying to get things moving a bit more]]

[[We seem to be getting nowhere. Of course, that could be my insane-efficiency side talking... And, Tawaki? I don't know much about Rosalie but is she supposed to be wrong? Corellia and nerfs are from Star Wars and DS9 is Star Trek. I'm all confused, and really don't want to write another section with the risk of ruining whatever you were trying to set up.]]

Rosalie returned, now in a sleeveless black gown, and carrying a box. "My partner confiscated a lot of 'Corellian nerf sausages' from somewhere called Deep Space Nine. Maybe this will help.
"EX-CEL-LENT!" said Omicron.