The PPC Roleplay Board - Latest posts

"I believe I am aware of that continuum." He turned to Tom. "Did you not read it?"

"I did!" Tom said brightly. "Quite entertaining. A tad disappointed with the film, but it was decent as well." He turned to Derik. "You then? If you're still capable of telling us, that is. I'd tell you mine, but... well, I already mentioned: bound by geas, if I tell you my brain probably starts fizzing." He frowned. "Oh, and don't worry about Thoth. He hasn't tried to read anyone's mind since... well, the point is, don't worry."

((I do hope the idea of a possible mind reader hasn't put you off...))

"Boy, that's an understatement." She felt it better to leave unsaid that she would personally smack down anyone intruding into her friends' minds on her watch, but she kept a discreet eye on Thoth. She was even in the right costume for defending people from dangerous metahumans and aliens. How convenient.

"Dude, didn't anyone tell you not to say creepy stuff about forcible extraction, either?" Gall asked, more amused than alarmed. "You can just ask. Most people won't explode if they tell you." She gave Tom a flat, skeptical look, letting him know she hadn't forgotten his weird remark, either. "Fer instance, I'm from the How to Train Your Dragon 'verse. Three guesses what we spend most of our time on these days. First two don't count."

"Alright. Once again, I must offer my apologies."

Thoth looked at Gall and Derik, his brow furrowing slightly. "It occurs to me that I have yet to ask you about your home continuums. I could, of course, extract the information forcibly, but I have been informed that such acts tend to... upset people. I would prefer to be allowed remain here if possible."

((Suffice to say, Thoth... would rather not return home. For obvious reasons.))

She eyed Tom's phone guardedly, but forced a half-smile. "I wasn't expecting some sort of Spanish Inquisition."

"No one expects the Spanish Inquisition!" Derik slurred loudly. It was widely held that one was not a proper PPC agent until one could quote Monty Python at the drop of a hat, so he'd learned.

"Thank you, dear." Jenni patted his shoulder.

At that point, Gall returned to the group carrying a plate piled high with snacks, acting like nothing odd had happened. "So I grabbed a bunch of pretzels—oh, hey, Green-eyes—and anything else that looked bready or greasy," she told Derik. "I don't want to drag your unconscious ass back to the RC if I don't have to, so eat." She stuffed a deviled egg into her own mouth and put the plate in his lap. "You lot can get your own," she said to Tom and Thoth, though if they understood her it would be quite the feat.

(( A little background for reference: Jenni is an original character from an original universe. I dunno exactly how she'll look to Tom's device, but her natural ethereal form is sort of a cloud of energy, green-blue-brown-silver. Her physical form is real, but I guess it works similarly to how the Maiar work in Middle-earth, so it's basically like a favorite outfit for her, and she could change it if she wanted to. The only outward sign that she's not a normal human is that her gaze can be penetrating and her eyes can almost seem to flash or glow in intense moments. (A bit Suvian, I know, but it's never overt, and I like the "windows to the soul"/"the eyes don't lie" tropes.) Being an ethereal with a direct connection to the energetic underpinnings of the universe, she's also extremely psychic, but she usually keeps that under tight wraps out of politeness. God, no; phenomenal cosmic power in an itty-bitty living space, yes. To Thoth, I suspect she's an incredibly luminous presence, but tightly controlled rather than flaring out. (Derik of course is barely there at all, being merely a latent Talent in McCaffrey terms, and Gall is dull as lead.) Lemme know if I can clarify anything for you. ))

"If you need a Phantom Thief during this little fiesta, I'm all yours. Not doing hearts, though. Don't have the app."

"You're... livier than usual," Marina said slowly.

"I am not satisfied, but the answer is acceptable for now," he said.

Tom scratched his head. "Powers That Be... That rings a bell. Would you happen to be a House Denizen or a Seemsian?" He shrugged, and busied himself helping the nurse with Derik.

((If the nurse is neither... Denizens are from Garth Nix's Keys To The Kingdom, and Seemsians are from... well, The Seems.))

"Nice to meet you, too," she quipped.

She held off responding further in favor of pulling Derik's free arm across her shoulders and easing him off Thoth and down onto the chair. He was significantly larger and heavier than her, but she was experienced at this sort of thing. "Come on, hon... there you go. Don't go falling off, all right?"

He nodded, and she briefly cupped the unscarred left side of his face before straightening up and facing the others.

"My name," she said, "is Jennifer Robinson, and I'm a nurse in the Department of Fictional Psychology. That ought to cover the who. As for the what, since you've been so blunt as to ask, I tend to favor the term 'PTB'—Powers That Be, which doesn't have a good singular form. Satisfied?" She folded her arms.

"Terribly sorry," he said. "This was partly my fault..."

Meanwhile, Thoth fixed the nurse with a level gaze. "You are not an ordinary mortal. Not one who has a gift, as Derik does. Who and what are you?"

At the sound of those words, Tom pulled out his phone, pointing it at Jenni. "Yeah... That's not normal. Nothing OFCUT can recognize, but not normal." He sighed. "I really need to get around to making the OFCUT scanner more useful..."

((It's fine by me. I'm having a lot of fun with this.

And he probably should be asking more questions, but A) he was distracted, and B) my writing isn't always the greatest, so I keep forgetting to have have him ask more questions. But don't worry, he's watching... always watching.))

He was distracted by the arrival of a newcomer in a dark blue S.H.I.E.L.D. jumpsuit. She'd taken advantage of Tom's slipstream to make her way to them through the crowd. "Is everything all right over here?" she said, taking in the scene with a pair of concerned green eyes. "I thought I heard—oh, Derik. Again?"

"Jenni!" Derik's expression had lit in recognition, but just as quickly collapsed back into the intense concentration it was now taking to string words together. "Thoth. Tom. This is Jenni—Nurse Robinson. She recruited me, but it's not her fault. What happened, it's not her fault. I have given it a lot of thought, and it was the Suvians, not her. She's good. She understands what it's like, and she's the only one who does, because she's been there. Sort of." He looked to Jenni. "You tell him."

Jenni, looking mortified with guilt no matter what Derik said, shook her head. "Derik, why don't you let go of this fellow and come with me for a minute?" She evaluated him again. "... You're clinging for dear life, aren't you? Can you walk on your own?"

"Ah." Derik looked down at himself, considering. "No, I don't think so. Sorry," he said to Thoth, swaying as he tilted his head up.

Jenni sighed and turned to Tom. "Make yourself useful and find a chair, would you?"

(( Long one, sorry. But I'm actually trying not to end the RP just yet, because I'm having fun. {= ) You're doing fine, too. It's a little tricky for me to get a read on what Thoth is feeling based just on his speech, because he's so formal, but that's okay. What does confuse me a bit is that I'd expected a seeker after knowledge to be more curious about people from other worlds, so I was trying to draw him to ask questions about my guys, but perhaps he's disciplined against prying?

(( In any case, I'd like to continue in my efforts to push his buttons for my own (and hopefully your) amusement, so I'm throwing Jenni at him. I don't know how psychic he is without actively trying to be, but if he's got any kind of passive sense of auras or energies or whatnot, he's probably going to notice she's not quite what she appears to be, and since the closest 40K analogue to what she actually is is probably a Warp demon... Well, I'm hoping he notices. {= D But only if it's in character for him, of course. ))

Harry turned to Ami and raised his eyebrows. "Your princess eats lewdies?" A cracked grin spread across his face. "I didn't realize Ponyville could get like so horrorshow!"

Anne explained to Chris, "Kids Next Door is a cartoon, and it gets pretty wild. Every episode veers wildly between taking itself way too seriously, and taking nothing seriously at all. The actual Kids Next Door themselves are all pretty hardcore about what they do."

As answer to Peregrin, Numbuh 3721 said, "We know how the worlds work, thank you very much. World One contains both a tv series made from my world, and a novel made from Harry's. And it has Halloween, though the resident children of World One have had its true history wiped from their minds in school. I'm sure there must be other variants of Earth that have all three as well."

Dax grinned and held out a hand. "I'm guessing you're Marina's partner? I'm Dax. Intelligence."

"I somewhat drunk myself. I appreciate both your competition, and your spirit. I shall keep your words in mind."

Tom returned, clutching a bottle of coke. "Well, I'm glad that's sorted. It was a pleasure to... erm, not drink with you."

((Am I doing alright? Just thought I'd ask...))

Faced with drink six plus one and rapidly taking up the previous ones, Derik groggily weighed the merits of his options and decided, based on experience, that he'd reached the limits of his tolerance, so there was no point in risking death on something as stupid as this contest. Instead, he lurched forward and put a clutching hand on Thoth's vambrace. All dragonriders had some latent empathic Talent, and Derik's was enough to widen the scope of his anger to encompass them both.

"I think we're the same," he said. "Or similar. The universe is cruel—it takes everything, and it makes you keep going anyway, even when you're not sure who you are anymore, or what's the point. We should talk... sometime we're not both extremely drunk. Or when I'm not. I don't know about you. Oh, by the way, you win." He nodded solemnly and belched some more. "And I will never drink anything pumpkin spice again, because it is vile when it repeats on you."

Thoth grabbed the next glass forcefully, pouring it down his throat. "I suppose I could. The next time the chance comes up, I could recruit one of them. And I could introduce you to one of the hypocrites who came down to slaughter my people, destroying my home, murdering countless civilians, helping to consign me and my brothers to the service of a mad god for over 10,000 years." The words came out bitter and forced. His voice lowered as he turned to Derik. "You don't need to tell me about the difference between knowledge and wisdom. The blood upon my hands and the hands of my brothers taught me that well enough."

Though for him it was actually five plus one, and the world was starting to feel decidedly fuzzy around the edges.

Gall folded her arms. "Well, can you put me in touch with that guy, then? Thor's beard, why are all the really buff dudes around here either taken or too messed up to appreciate what's in front of them?" Here she shot a resentful glare at Derik.

He slammed the latest glass down slightly harder than was rational. "You try being enthralled to a Mary Sue and losing everything that mattered, then see how you feel," he growled, then shook himself and turned to the other two. "Sorry. She does this on purpose. No empathy, this one, none at all. Knowledge is good," he went on, "knowledge is vastly preferable to ignorance, but without the wisdom to use it as it ought, that's how we end up in these situations." He waved a hand, indicating Headquarters and everyone in it.

(( Aaand the downhill slide begins in earnest. {= D ))

"I might want one as well, actually..." He grabbed some more alcohol.

"Yes," said Thoth, softly. "Duty." He downed his drink, with noticeable haste. "Knowledge. Understanding. That is what makes life worth living. There is no higher calling then the persuit of knowledge. If I am to be a criminal, then that is my crime." It appeared he wasn't exactly talking to those around him.

Finally, his eyes focused on Gall. "I have no interest in your offer. And I do not think that you do either. Not for me. For the man whose paint I wear tonight, perhaps."

((Thoth is, I think, a rather solemn drunk...))

((I recall the EC's... tastes being outright stated. If they aren't, they're all but. Then again, a lot of what I read doesn't come from the novels, and GW's canon policy makes things murky at the best of times.

As for supersoldiers not being distracted by family ties... Don't tell The Salamanders, who maintain their families after becoming Astartes, and place a high value on family in general.

The Salamanders are basically the nicest guys in 40k this side of The Lamenters. They also really like fire.))

He, too, was sporting a flush by now, which made the pale scars on his right cheek stand out even more. He shook his head and chuckled at his partner's aghast expression. "It isn't as though it could have worked out either way, you know." He held up one hand at Gall's head-height, then raised his arm as far as it would go to indicate Thoth's.

"Oh yeah?" Gall stuck out her right arm. On her wrist, she wore a device that looked a bit like a watch, but had a curious ring around the outside of the face.

Derik blinked, then groaned in comprehension and checked himself out of explaining by finally drinking his fourth ale.

"See," said Gall, "I got this handy bit of tech that lets me shrink my dragon so he fits in the RC. But it works the other way, too." She waggled her eyebrows. "So, jötunn, if you ever wanna get un-repressed, I'm your girl."

"I'll have the next drink quickly, please," Derik said grimly to Tom. He cast Thoth a baleful look through his one functioning eye. "You don't agree with her, though, do you? Those things are not what makes life worthwhile. It's duty, loyalty, joy... and if all else fails, just duty."

(( I haven't settled on what sort of drunk I think Derik is, but it looks like "voluble" is gonna be part of it. {= P

(( But uh, yeah, I started off thinking Gall was more or less just being ridiculous for the sake of riling people up (not that she was succeeding; Thoth seems to be a rather phlegmatic sort)—but then I remembered Fellrazer's collar and realized it's actually plausible from her end. {X D She's still mostly playing, but what with all the most powerful guys in HtTYD!Viking culture being ridiculously huge, there's a little part of her brain going "just imagine the status that would come from pairing with a guy like this!" and "think of the looks on people's faces if I told them; hilarious!"

(( I'd tend to agree that an Astartes' reproductive capability is probably nuked as a side effect all the physical and chemical processes done to them, if not deliberately. It wouldn't do to have your supersoldiers distracted by family ties, assuming anyone would or could successfully partner with them. Regarding the Emperor's Children, from what Phobos tells me, it's implied that they're into just about everything, and outright stated that the humans with them definitely are, but it's not outright stated about the Astartes, at least not in the books he's read so far. Is it actually spelled out somewhere?

(( ... I like biology. I think about these things. >.>; ))

"Thanks to mjød, we did not have to give up two of them," he said. "Not that I ever drank anything but wine before coming here. It was still a worthwhile trade." Thoth's cheeks were slightly redder, but other than that, he seemed to be entirely functional.

"As for the third... the hypno-doctrination took care of that. The requisite equipment is still there, but the urges have been... largely repressed. They no longer serve any function."

((Bleeprin would not work on Space Marines for the same reasons alcohol doesn't. It's a toxin, and most toxins don't work properly on Space Marines.

Fun fact: most Space Marines have variable skin tone, the two exceptions of the original 20 18 legions being the Raven Guard and the Salamanders. So if a fic ever talks about a Space Marine with a tan on an ice world, it's technically a minor canon violation. Though I usually don't care, unless the fic has other problems, like, to pick a COMPLETELY RANDOM example, the Sons and the Wolves doing entirely the wrong sort of unspeakable things to one another (No, I'm not still upset about that fic, why do you ask?).

If you want to know more about Astartes biology, 1d4's page is my preferred resource (standard disclaimer, 1d4chan is the wiki of /tg/, and while /tg/ is among the most decent 4chan boards, it is still a 4chan board. Expect gratuitous swearing and occaisional NSFW bits around the site, as well as some FANTASTIC bits of fanfic).))

((As for Astartes sexuality... hoo boy. This is where we run straight in to GW's "Assassin's Order" canon policy ("everything is canon, nothing is true"). BL writers (who I tend to favor over codices for lore, because it seems like the good ones care a lot more) seem to be split on how effective hypo-doctrination IS. Because if it was as effective as the game says it is, things would be boring. So it's commonly agreed that Space Marines CAN, for example, feel fear (contrary to game fluff) - it's just repressed. But sexual desire... well, Emperor's Children, to get the elephant in the room out of the way, but other than that, the jury's out on whether it's entirely nonexistant or merely deeply repressed. Or even if the requisite equipment can function.

The interpretation Mikel and I subscribe to is that it is there, and the equipment does more or less function (no clue if conception's possible: I'd say no), but it is deeply repressed. This is substantiated by several novels, most notably the Ragnar Blackmane series that serves as the mainline of Space Wolf novels (which I should REALLY read at some point). OTOH, there's also evidence to contrary. So...))

"This sounds like one of those stories where the gods offer you something awesome, but then screw you when your back's turned," she said, looking Thoth up and down. "See, the way I figure, there's three things that make life worth living, and that's drinking, fighting, and fu—"

Derik finished his third drink and let off a resonant belch. He didn't look sorry about it, either.

Gall went on: "So what I'm wondering is, to be the best at one, did you have to give up both the other two?"

(( This is something I wonder about myself. As far as I can tell, the answer is yes? Which I reckon is probably for the best, all things considered!

(( I wondered whether Bleeprin would work on these guys, too, but you answered that for me. My guess was that Bleeprin works because you want it to anyway, so as long as he thinks it works, it does. Bleepmjød is good, too. ))

Richard had been joining back his partner once he had seen her at the bar. He looked less subdued as usual behind a mask and a disguise.

"I recently discovered a web serial where the author try some mix of western and heroic fantasy, and Drizzt is the drow word for cliché there. I found that really funny."

"Where I'm from, both the costumes and the candy are to keep the spirit of Nightmare Moon--that's Princess Luna's superpowered evil side, by the way--from eating us. The costumes fool her into thinking there aren't any ponies around, and the candy is insurance."

Chris was even more dazed at the explanation. "What...? What the heck kind of place is the Kids Next Door-verse, anyway?"

Dax laughed. "Never would have guessed that. Still, at least your protagonist is cool—when people think of D&D, they tend to think of that Drizzt." She spat out the name like it was a curse.

Thoth took the next one just as easily as the first two: the glasses weren't really that big, all things considered. "Three, I believe."

He turned to Gall. "I am," he said, "One of the Adeptus Astartes, the Angels of Death. Sometimes known as Space Marines. When I was a boy, I was selected as a candidate, tried, and eventually inducted into the ranks of the Thousand Sons. I was upgraded, artificial organs inserted into my body, its chemistry altered, my mind conditioned. All to transform me into one of the most fierce warriors mankind has ever known."

He sighed. "One of the side effects of the process is that this rotgut, as you call it, is one of the few things capable of actually getting me drunk, or getting any sort of toxin into my blood: On missions, I carry an alcohol-substitute version with Bleeprin inside it. It is the only way that the Bleep works on me."

((Sorry... I can be a bit longwinded. Thankfully, I think it fits the character here...))

"My partner is constently going through sourcebooks of different roleplaying games he can found, you wouldn't believe how many systems he knows. And there is one on my world too, and he has a character for it! Bad enough when I discovered it was a fiction centered on that guy Dresden. The way the Council sees him... is very different from the books."

Gall shook her head impatiently. "I didn't ask for your life story, man, I asked what you're made of that you can drink that rotgut. I've never felt a burn like that, and I ate some of Fellrazer's Nightmare Gel on a dare once. Does being a Fifteenth Ass-whatsit do that for you?"

Derik, who knew that his partner's hearing comprehension was excellent, cuffed the back of her head. "That's not what he said and you know it."

(( The Laundry Files looks interesting; I'll have to check that out sometime. And I'm running out the door, so short response here; sorry! ))