As I don't recognise you, I believe I can safely say that you do not.
However, before we get to the niceties of introduction, can you please tell me something about the state of T.H.E.Y.? Templeton is being most unhelpful in that regard.
"Templeton"? I wasn't aware that Owen believed in the concept of a last name basis.
Approximately a year previous, an organisation we got into the habit of referring to as pirates attacked our headquarters, put Meligot and Vonnegh into stasis, and killed a good many agents; just as many disappeared with the shock to the system caused by the temporary incapacitation of the computer. There was a touchy period in which at least one agent was fatally injured every week.
Luckily, we are well past that; Meligot was rejuvenated, we organised an attack on their homeworld in August, destroyed their system, and have been recuperating and attempting to regain our previous mission status ever since, save for a brief detour with a tricky mindwitch, since deceased.
There are a good few previously-retired agents still in our halls, rerecruited in our time of need, and a few new ones, but still only a tiny fraction of our previous number.
Owen Templeton and I have a rather... unique relationship in that aspect, I do admit.
And thank you. That was remarkably concise, as well as mildly horrifying. I assume that I cannot return to headquarters with my handheld model, it being over a year out of date. Frankly, I'm surprised I reached T.H.E.Y. at all. I've only been checking in out of habit and some vague false hope.
I imagine you two have a unique relationship in many aspects. I have not heard anyone refer to it as the "taint of sin" since the last Inquisition I visited.
No, you most likely cannot, my dear boy. I suppose you need a rescuer as well?
(It does make one wonder, why two old agents are appearing within a week of each other, after almost a year of very sporadic activity.)
I would prefer to return on my own, especially because it sounds as though you don't have many agents to spare, but there is no hurry, so as long as I manage to return to headquarters eventually, I will be content.
And I have no idea what the significance of that would be, except that perhaps our Miss Moncrief should be attempting a few more security patches. I have no idea. I have only rudimentary knowledge of her convoluted software.
I still have not caught your name, although I will hypothesize, from your user information, that you are one Juilliard Vichy. French, I expect?
He was anticipating my reaction. It is not... entirely accurate, as I am sure you will discover if you care to keep reading other people's conversations.
I'm glad to hear that.
Ah, a T.H.E.Y. agent to the bones. It seems everyone has their own pet theory. I'm glad to learn yours is tame enough to be about Meligot.
Do I have the pleasure of your acquaintance, sir?
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However, before we get to the niceties of introduction, can you please tell me something about the state of T.H.E.Y.? Templeton is being most unhelpful in that regard.
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Approximately a year previous, an organisation we got into the habit of referring to as pirates attacked our headquarters, put Meligot and Vonnegh into stasis, and killed a good many agents; just as many disappeared with the shock to the system caused by the temporary incapacitation of the computer. There was a touchy period in which at least one agent was fatally injured every week.
Luckily, we are well past that; Meligot was rejuvenated, we organised an attack on their homeworld in August, destroyed their system, and have been recuperating and attempting to regain our previous mission status ever since, save for a brief detour with a tricky mindwitch, since deceased.
There are a good few previously-retired agents still in our halls, rerecruited in our time of need, and a few new ones, but still only a tiny fraction of our previous number.
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And thank you. That was remarkably concise, as well as mildly horrifying. I assume that I cannot return to headquarters with my handheld model, it being over a year out of date. Frankly, I'm surprised I reached T.H.E.Y. at all. I've only been checking in out of habit and some vague false hope.
That said: I am Enny East. And you?
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No, you most likely cannot, my dear boy. I suppose you need a rescuer as well?
(It does make one wonder, why two old agents are appearing within a week of each other, after almost a year of very sporadic activity.)
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I would prefer to return on my own, especially because it sounds as though you don't have many agents to spare, but there is no hurry, so as long as I manage to return to headquarters eventually, I will be content.
And I have no idea what the significance of that would be, except that perhaps our Miss Moncrief should be attempting a few more security patches. I have no idea. I have only rudimentary knowledge of her convoluted software.
I still have not caught your name, although I will hypothesize, from your user information, that you are one Juilliard Vichy. French, I expect?
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You will have to ask mademoiselle Moncrief on the matter, I think, but the likelihood is that she will send you to be recalled, as was done with Owen.
Ah, that's something we share, then. I do think she adds flourishes on it just to spite us, and then the tech folk pretend to know what she means.
Fortunately, yes. I do apologise.
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I'm glad to hear that.
Ah, a T.H.E.Y. agent to the bones. It seems everyone has their own pet theory. I'm glad to learn yours is tame enough to be about Meligot.
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You?
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(Also, what should we do with them now? And where are you? I found the mortar again.)
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(... dare I ask if you have any Amontillado? And I'm being danced at.)
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(Got a cask of it, yeah. Why? And possibly you should dance back, or turn off the karaoke machine.
... I vote for dancing back. Karaoke is fun. We should get Hermione to join!)
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