PPC Audition!
All right, this is my audition for the Protectors of the Plot Continuum, a wonderful multiverse owned by the authors of Jay Thorntree and Acacia Byrd. Kudarung are from Tamora Pierce's Tortall books (specifically the Daughter of the Lioness duology), Code Geass is the property of Goro Taniguchi and Ichiro Okouchi, the novel Howl's Moving Castle belongs to Diana Wynne-Jones, the movie version belongs to Hayao Miyazaki, Lux is free for all PPCers, Tara Gillesbie wrote the infamous My Immortal fanfiction, and Kimmie and Caitlyn belong to yours truly. Oh, and Caitlyn's name has been retconned due to the existence of a boarder!Kaitlyn who isn't me. Some poor language, slight innuendo and mentions of alcohol await you. (Ahem. This personage and all associated personages in no way condone the consumption of alcohol.) Also, many thanks to Laburnum for helping me to work out what I was doing with Kimmie.
Note: The original version of this story was somehow deleted, so I had to rewrite it from memory. Due to the resulting frustration, I was not as capable of proper proofreading as I might otherwise have been.
October 2008, PPC HQ
Deep in the halls of PPC HQ, a young woman swathed in enough black fabric to cover a battleship was pacing the length of her RC. There were a lot of people pacing around HQ that afternoon, actually. Some were wondering where they had put their Bleepsinthe. Some were freaking out over the horror scrolling across their consoles. One was waiting to be called Upstairs to discuss an incident with a kudarung and a large quantity of cayenne pepper. The agent in RC #2617, however, was waiting for her new partner.
Having had enough of pacing, she stopped in the center of the room and conducted a slow three-hundred-and-sixty degree examination of it. The bunkbeds bolted to the wall were neatly made, without a spiderweb in sight. The battered kitchenette in the corner by the door did not gleam, because the RC's last occupants had been the Tara Gilesbies of cooking, but she'd gotten rid of all the stains except the orange one on the corner. The console across from the beds had had the worst of the dents hammered out. The closet was free of dustbunnies (or at least free of dust elephants), and as for the bathroom... the agent shuddered. It has better be clean by now, and her new partner was lucky to have missed out on that particular task.
As if summoned by the lull in her pacing, someone knocked on the door. Or, more accurately, tried to perform a drum solo on it. "I'm COMING!" the RC's occupant bawled. "Don't break the door down!" She ran for the much-abused portal and barely registered the figure on the other side - small and lavender-haired - before she was tackled into a violent one-armed embrace. The drum solo continued on her back.
"HEY!" the new arrival bellowed in her ear before releasing her from the stranglehold with a final punch on the arm. "Are you Caitlyn? I'm your new partner!"
"Yeah, I guessed," Caitlyn grumbled, rubbing her abused ear. "Do you always assault everyone you meet?" The new arrival looked hurt.
"Just being friendly. God." She shrugged a bulging duffel bag off her shoulder, rooted around in it for a moment, and then flung herself on the lower bunk, dubious-looking can in hand. "You mind taking the top bunk? I hate it up there - too hard to get in and out at night. Name's Kimmie, by the way, since you have yet to ask."
"Why were you planning on climbing out of bed at night?" Caitlyn asked, rather belatedly sizing up the newcomer. Small and thin; long, absurdly lavender hair; dressed in all black with a rather surprising amount of lace and ruffles. In fact, the calf-length skirt appeared to be entirely ruffles. "Why's your hair that color? And what's with the fancy outfit? Isn't that Sueish?" The accused shrugged and took a swig out of her can.
"I'm a former bit-character from a Code Geass fic. Hair like this is totally normal there. And I can always change if it matters, but I don't think anyone gives a damn what I wear. On the way here I passed a blonde in a bra, boots and a scarf."
"Must've been Lux, she's weird - wait a second. A bra and a scarf?"
"Yeah, knotted around her waist."
"Oh. Well, you could've mentioned that sooner!"
"Sorry." With a smirk, she added, "It was lacy, though."
"Oh God."
"Relax. You still couldn't see that much, and besides, she was hot."
Caitlyn groaned. "Great. I ended up with a sick little pervert in a lady's body."
Kimmie closed her eyes and took a deep drink. "I didn't do anything wrong. I didn't tell her to wear that non-outfit. And if she objected to people looking at her, she wouldn't wander around dressed like that and waving at everyone in sight."
Caitlyn harrumphed and turned to glare at the console, which uncharacteristically decided not to break the (exceedingly awkward) silence; instead that duty fell to Kimmie.
"So, what continuum are you from?"
"Me? Uh, Howl's Moving Castle. I think."
"You think? How does that work?"
"Well, they tested a lot of Bleeproducts on me, and I screwed the canon up pretty badly anyway, so - "
"Wait, how could they do that? I thought the actual Suethors were off-limits."
Caitlyn bit her lip. "I... I'm not a Suethor. I'm an ex-Sue."
Somewhat to her surprise, Kimmie just nodded. "I see, then. That explains the eyes." Said eyes were a rather improbable shade of blue; Caitlyn immediately resolved to wear sunglasses. "Your hair was a description gone wrong, then?"
"Uh, no. I dye it brown. And cut it myself." She tugged at the jagged, inconsistently-colored mess with perverse pride.
"Okay, then. So, you said you were the mad scientists' lab rat? For how long?"
"I was a test subject at the Department of Mary-Sue Experiments and Research, not a lab rat, and I was there for three years. Wait, four."
"Four?"
"Yeah, they tested a sedative on me sometime in January, and it was a little stronger than intended. I woke up last week."
"Holy shit."
"Not really. Anyway, after all the disasters this year they decided I'd be more useful as an agent than a test subject, handed me a Floaters patch and a few guns and knives, and sent me up here."
"Oh. Kinda sucks, doesn't it?"
"When I want your pity, I'll let you know."
Kimmie sighed. "Whatever. Booze?" She rummaged through her enormous duffel and proffered another green can.
"You shouldn't waste that. We might get dealt a Bleepfic, and then what'll you do?"
"Break into the Bleepbeer. Duh."
"Wait, that's real beer? You can't drink that!"
"Why the hell not? It's not like there's a drinking age here."
"But this is your job! What if we get a mission?"
"They don't have any problem with us drinking, they give us free booze! And besides, it's one beer. It isn't going to incapacitate me." She finished it off rather showily and set it with a clunk on the headboard. "I should probably unpack. Is there anywhere I can put my clothes?"
"Closet's the hatch on the right."
"Great, thanks! Hope you didn't steal all the space on me." She dragged her duffel over and whistled as she pulled the hatch open. "No fear of that, I see. Did you steal all this stuff off a small giant? I can loan you some things that'd fit you better - they'd be a little tight on you, but a lot better than this..." Her voice trailed off as she noticed the rather incredible death glare being boring into her skull.
"I like my clothing that size, and I don't need you swooping in to give me a makeover!" With that she whirled and catapulted herself into the top bunk, somehow failing to bang her head against the ceiling. Kimmie leaned her head against the inside of the hatch and breathed very, very deeply.
"Eight thousand friendly psychos in this place, and I get stuck with this one," she whispered. Caitlyn's Suvian hearing picked up on this, and she snorted. The bunkbeds shook again. Kimmie sighed, contemplated another beer, and instead started hanging up an assortment of skirts, dresses and leggings. Naturally, it was at that point that someone decided the newbies had had it too easy.
BEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEP! A loud thud and muffled cursing emanated from the closet. Caitlyn leaped from the top bunk, scattering pillows, and bolted for the console. As all laws of HQ were thoroughly functional, she immediately groaned.
"An invasion?"
To Be Continued (Hopefully).
Note: The original version of this story was somehow deleted, so I had to rewrite it from memory. Due to the resulting frustration, I was not as capable of proper proofreading as I might otherwise have been.
October 2008, PPC HQ
Deep in the halls of PPC HQ, a young woman swathed in enough black fabric to cover a battleship was pacing the length of her RC. There were a lot of people pacing around HQ that afternoon, actually. Some were wondering where they had put their Bleepsinthe. Some were freaking out over the horror scrolling across their consoles. One was waiting to be called Upstairs to discuss an incident with a kudarung and a large quantity of cayenne pepper. The agent in RC #2617, however, was waiting for her new partner.
Having had enough of pacing, she stopped in the center of the room and conducted a slow three-hundred-and-sixty degree examination of it. The bunkbeds bolted to the wall were neatly made, without a spiderweb in sight. The battered kitchenette in the corner by the door did not gleam, because the RC's last occupants had been the Tara Gilesbies of cooking, but she'd gotten rid of all the stains except the orange one on the corner. The console across from the beds had had the worst of the dents hammered out. The closet was free of dustbunnies (or at least free of dust elephants), and as for the bathroom... the agent shuddered. It has better be clean by now, and her new partner was lucky to have missed out on that particular task.
As if summoned by the lull in her pacing, someone knocked on the door. Or, more accurately, tried to perform a drum solo on it. "I'm COMING!" the RC's occupant bawled. "Don't break the door down!" She ran for the much-abused portal and barely registered the figure on the other side - small and lavender-haired - before she was tackled into a violent one-armed embrace. The drum solo continued on her back.
"HEY!" the new arrival bellowed in her ear before releasing her from the stranglehold with a final punch on the arm. "Are you Caitlyn? I'm your new partner!"
"Yeah, I guessed," Caitlyn grumbled, rubbing her abused ear. "Do you always assault everyone you meet?" The new arrival looked hurt.
"Just being friendly. God." She shrugged a bulging duffel bag off her shoulder, rooted around in it for a moment, and then flung herself on the lower bunk, dubious-looking can in hand. "You mind taking the top bunk? I hate it up there - too hard to get in and out at night. Name's Kimmie, by the way, since you have yet to ask."
"Why were you planning on climbing out of bed at night?" Caitlyn asked, rather belatedly sizing up the newcomer. Small and thin; long, absurdly lavender hair; dressed in all black with a rather surprising amount of lace and ruffles. In fact, the calf-length skirt appeared to be entirely ruffles. "Why's your hair that color? And what's with the fancy outfit? Isn't that Sueish?" The accused shrugged and took a swig out of her can.
"I'm a former bit-character from a Code Geass fic. Hair like this is totally normal there. And I can always change if it matters, but I don't think anyone gives a damn what I wear. On the way here I passed a blonde in a bra, boots and a scarf."
"Must've been Lux, she's weird - wait a second. A bra and a scarf?"
"Yeah, knotted around her waist."
"Oh. Well, you could've mentioned that sooner!"
"Sorry." With a smirk, she added, "It was lacy, though."
"Oh God."
"Relax. You still couldn't see that much, and besides, she was hot."
Caitlyn groaned. "Great. I ended up with a sick little pervert in a lady's body."
Kimmie closed her eyes and took a deep drink. "I didn't do anything wrong. I didn't tell her to wear that non-outfit. And if she objected to people looking at her, she wouldn't wander around dressed like that and waving at everyone in sight."
Caitlyn harrumphed and turned to glare at the console, which uncharacteristically decided not to break the (exceedingly awkward) silence; instead that duty fell to Kimmie.
"So, what continuum are you from?"
"Me? Uh, Howl's Moving Castle. I think."
"You think? How does that work?"
"Well, they tested a lot of Bleeproducts on me, and I screwed the canon up pretty badly anyway, so - "
"Wait, how could they do that? I thought the actual Suethors were off-limits."
Caitlyn bit her lip. "I... I'm not a Suethor. I'm an ex-Sue."
Somewhat to her surprise, Kimmie just nodded. "I see, then. That explains the eyes." Said eyes were a rather improbable shade of blue; Caitlyn immediately resolved to wear sunglasses. "Your hair was a description gone wrong, then?"
"Uh, no. I dye it brown. And cut it myself." She tugged at the jagged, inconsistently-colored mess with perverse pride.
"Okay, then. So, you said you were the mad scientists' lab rat? For how long?"
"I was a test subject at the Department of Mary-Sue Experiments and Research, not a lab rat, and I was there for three years. Wait, four."
"Four?"
"Yeah, they tested a sedative on me sometime in January, and it was a little stronger than intended. I woke up last week."
"Holy shit."
"Not really. Anyway, after all the disasters this year they decided I'd be more useful as an agent than a test subject, handed me a Floaters patch and a few guns and knives, and sent me up here."
"Oh. Kinda sucks, doesn't it?"
"When I want your pity, I'll let you know."
Kimmie sighed. "Whatever. Booze?" She rummaged through her enormous duffel and proffered another green can.
"You shouldn't waste that. We might get dealt a Bleepfic, and then what'll you do?"
"Break into the Bleepbeer. Duh."
"Wait, that's real beer? You can't drink that!"
"Why the hell not? It's not like there's a drinking age here."
"But this is your job! What if we get a mission?"
"They don't have any problem with us drinking, they give us free booze! And besides, it's one beer. It isn't going to incapacitate me." She finished it off rather showily and set it with a clunk on the headboard. "I should probably unpack. Is there anywhere I can put my clothes?"
"Closet's the hatch on the right."
"Great, thanks! Hope you didn't steal all the space on me." She dragged her duffel over and whistled as she pulled the hatch open. "No fear of that, I see. Did you steal all this stuff off a small giant? I can loan you some things that'd fit you better - they'd be a little tight on you, but a lot better than this..." Her voice trailed off as she noticed the rather incredible death glare being boring into her skull.
"I like my clothing that size, and I don't need you swooping in to give me a makeover!" With that she whirled and catapulted herself into the top bunk, somehow failing to bang her head against the ceiling. Kimmie leaned her head against the inside of the hatch and breathed very, very deeply.
"Eight thousand friendly psychos in this place, and I get stuck with this one," she whispered. Caitlyn's Suvian hearing picked up on this, and she snorted. The bunkbeds shook again. Kimmie sighed, contemplated another beer, and instead started hanging up an assortment of skirts, dresses and leggings. Naturally, it was at that point that someone decided the newbies had had it too easy.
BEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEP! A loud thud and muffled cursing emanated from the closet. Caitlyn leaped from the top bunk, scattering pillows, and bolted for the console. As all laws of HQ were thoroughly functional, she immediately groaned.
"An invasion?"
To Be Continued (Hopefully).