PPC Interlude 2: “‘Halp’?”
Disclaimer: I do not own the PPC. It was created by the incomparable Jay and Acacia many, many years ago. What I do own is Agent Rose/Ross, for whom Permission was granted on June 22nd, 2009, by Techno-Dann. Thank you.
As Agent Rose/Ross paused in the doorway to their RC, contemplating the merits of going to FicPsych versus going and visiting an old teacher, they heard their new partner, Agent Meip, sigh a little, before the girl announced “I have someone I want to take you to see before we head to FicPsych.”
“Funny,” said Rose, with a small, wan grin. “There’s someone I was thinking about going to see, too. Tell me, who?”
“An old teacher of mine,” Meip responded. “He taught me almost everything I know about stories.”
“Huh.” Rose frowned. “I was thinking the same thing, only a teacher of mine. He was my mentor from the beginning of eighth grade all the way through the end of highschool. Forgive me, but I’m a little more inclined to trust him with my sanity than someone I’ve just heard of…”
“What sanity?” Meip questioned, arching one eyebrow. “I don’t think either of you are sane. You’re PPC Agents,” she said, and then continued on to what was important. “In any case, my teacher is a Grand Storyteller, and if anyone can fix our Sueitity, it’ll be him.”
Rose found herself, and her pride in her mentor, being rather bruised. “I’ll have you know that MY teacher is possibly the best literature teacher in my school district, as well as the best writing, history, debate, AND Latin teacher!” It was true. He was all that. As well as physics, gardening, woodshop, astronomy, French, and various other things that he might have started teaching in the four years since Rose/Ross graduated.
Meip narrowed her eyes at Rose/Ross in a small glare. “MINE’S all that and more!” she growled, and then her lips curled into a small, triumphant smile. “And what you say doesn’t matter anyway,” she taunted. “I have the RA.” With that, Meip grabbed the small device off the floor, dialed in the coordinates and opened a portal before her partner had the chance to stop her.
Before Rose knew what was happening, she was falling through the floor - no, wait, that was the portal that Meip had just opened under her feet. She landed, oddly enough, on a very familiar looking, feeling, and smelling Karate Crashpad. “Meip…” she asked, suddenly suspicious. “Where have you taken me?”
Meip smiled slightly. “The home to the only thing even marginally resembling a school that I ever saw: TEC.”
Rose took a moment to digest this information. Ross, on the other hand, had already started running: Out the double door to the gym, into the lobby of the school. Hang a right, and past the office. Down the hallway, past the storage locker that had also housed the school’s music classes, to the second-to-last door on the left, and in the open door.
Ross stopped dead, then bowed. “Magister,” he said, looking at the man who sat at a desk on the other side of the room.
“Hello, Mike,” she Meip, from behind Ross.
The man in question turned around, revealing a portly fellow in his mid-fifties, all silver hair and beard and bright blue eyes with a look that the teacher himself was fond of calling “Bug-eyed with my hair on fire”.
“Oh, hello, girls. I didn’t know that you two knew each other. What a pleasant surprise.”
Meip smiled brightly and ventured further into the room, heading towards the teacher’s side of the room. “We haven’t known each other long, Mike. But… how do you know her?”
Mike Page, both of the Twins’ favorite teacher, gave both Ross and Meip The Look. “Once upon a time,” he began, “there was a Pookah named Rose. We have yet to find out how this story will end.”
Meip gasped, and turned to look at Rose/Ross with eyes full of admiration. “You mean she’s that Rose!?” she xclaimed.
Ross felt himself begin to blush at the look on the younger agent’s face, then winced as the Words of the Real World flitted past his eyees. The, again, he winced. “I… think you need to borrow the third ‘e’ in my eyes, and fix that,” he said, offhand, before turning back to Mike, with a sheepish grin. “Actually, it’s Ross at the moment, and… Sir? We’ve got a problem. You know that… organization… you recommended? Well, we’ve both had a little… work/word related accident, and…”
Meip blushed rather sheepishly herself, but stood tall. “We were turned into Suethorss, self enserting Suethors at that. Halp?”
“‘Halp’?” asked the teacher, giving both students The Eyebrow.
Ross pulled himself up to his full height, puffing up his chest the way that this man had taught him. Because, at the moment, he was all wrong. “And how are we going to be wrong?” he asked himself, under his breath.
He was not expecting the chorus of both Meip and Mike to answer him. “Like a Roman!”
With a grin at both of his former students, Mike gestured to a pair of chairs. “So. Tell me. What, exactly, happened.”
“Well,” Meip said, pulling up a chair and sitting down. “It all began when a young, inexperienced agent was sent out on her first mission. Her assigned partner was a young woman named Rose who had completed many missions in her time at the PPC, and was, thus, quite experienced. They were sent on a mission in the Tortall universe in a fic called, A Squire’s Pain. It was very dangerous inside this fic, with many bad spellings, poor usages of grammar and out of character antics. In the course of their journey, Ross became hungry, invoked Norton Juster, and ate a 2 that had fallen near his feet. The taste was so good that he continued eating more numerals, and shared small bits of it with his newbie partner. Not long afterwards they began feeling quite strange and exhibiting some of the same awful symptoms that makes a badfic bad. They were able to successfully complete their mission, despite increasing Sue and Stu tendencies that continued to emerge. Now that their mission is over, they decided to go to the person they thought would best be able to help them, their old teacher, and mentor, Mike Page.”
Ross perched on the table, looking from Meip to Mike. “Yeah. That about sums it up…”
Mike gave both of his former students The Look. “I see.” It was, perhaps, one of the most feared phrases in TEC history. “Now, what exactly is making the characters in this story you just told me so… bad? What is it that they are doing that’s so Sue and Stu like?”
“Well, for starters, there’s this,” said Ross, opening a hand to reveal a ball of bright blue fire, with ice crystals hovering around it. “And then there’s the fact that my grammar and spelling have been being eff - aff - influenced. See what I meen? Auck!” Ross squawked at the spelling of the final word in that sentence, and shook his head, noting with displeasure that his hair had gone flaming red again. “And this isn’t hairdye. And I’m not wearing contacts,” he finished, hazarding a guess. “And I bleed glitter!”
“That’s not all,” Meip added. “He also began a sentance with um!”
Mike gasped, dramatically, throwing them both the “Bug-eyed, hair on fire” look. “Well then. This IS serious.” With that, he pulled a few sheets of paper out of his printer, and set them in front of the two Agents. “Looks like it’s time for a storytelling workshop.”
Meip beamed, and pushed Ross off the table. “Tables are not for sitting on,” she infirmed him, and pulled a pencil out of the pocket in her skirt.
Ross grinned at her, pulled out his staff pen, and saluted her, the same way he had saluted the Venerable Silver Haired Teacher himself, during fencing practice. “As you say, mademoiselle.” With that, he sat down, and pulled out his India Ink.
***
Watching Meip step through the portal to their RC, Rose bowed to Mike, and gave him a grin. As Rose/Ross (quietly riding next to each other in the controls of their body) stepped through the portal as well, Meip graced them with a small smile, and waved. “Meep…” she said, and that one meep told them that she was tired, going to go to sleep now, and for them to have a good night.
“Meep,” replied Rose/Ross, and flopped into their chair, praying.
And, at least for a little while, their prayers were answered: The Console, for once, did not beep.
As Agent Rose/Ross paused in the doorway to their RC, contemplating the merits of going to FicPsych versus going and visiting an old teacher, they heard their new partner, Agent Meip, sigh a little, before the girl announced “I have someone I want to take you to see before we head to FicPsych.”
“Funny,” said Rose, with a small, wan grin. “There’s someone I was thinking about going to see, too. Tell me, who?”
“An old teacher of mine,” Meip responded. “He taught me almost everything I know about stories.”
“Huh.” Rose frowned. “I was thinking the same thing, only a teacher of mine. He was my mentor from the beginning of eighth grade all the way through the end of highschool. Forgive me, but I’m a little more inclined to trust him with my sanity than someone I’ve just heard of…”
“What sanity?” Meip questioned, arching one eyebrow. “I don’t think either of you are sane. You’re PPC Agents,” she said, and then continued on to what was important. “In any case, my teacher is a Grand Storyteller, and if anyone can fix our Sueitity, it’ll be him.”
Rose found herself, and her pride in her mentor, being rather bruised. “I’ll have you know that MY teacher is possibly the best literature teacher in my school district, as well as the best writing, history, debate, AND Latin teacher!” It was true. He was all that. As well as physics, gardening, woodshop, astronomy, French, and various other things that he might have started teaching in the four years since Rose/Ross graduated.
Meip narrowed her eyes at Rose/Ross in a small glare. “MINE’S all that and more!” she growled, and then her lips curled into a small, triumphant smile. “And what you say doesn’t matter anyway,” she taunted. “I have the RA.” With that, Meip grabbed the small device off the floor, dialed in the coordinates and opened a portal before her partner had the chance to stop her.
Before Rose knew what was happening, she was falling through the floor - no, wait, that was the portal that Meip had just opened under her feet. She landed, oddly enough, on a very familiar looking, feeling, and smelling Karate Crashpad. “Meip…” she asked, suddenly suspicious. “Where have you taken me?”
Meip smiled slightly. “The home to the only thing even marginally resembling a school that I ever saw: TEC.”
Rose took a moment to digest this information. Ross, on the other hand, had already started running: Out the double door to the gym, into the lobby of the school. Hang a right, and past the office. Down the hallway, past the storage locker that had also housed the school’s music classes, to the second-to-last door on the left, and in the open door.
Ross stopped dead, then bowed. “Magister,” he said, looking at the man who sat at a desk on the other side of the room.
“Hello, Mike,” she Meip, from behind Ross.
The man in question turned around, revealing a portly fellow in his mid-fifties, all silver hair and beard and bright blue eyes with a look that the teacher himself was fond of calling “Bug-eyed with my hair on fire”.
“Oh, hello, girls. I didn’t know that you two knew each other. What a pleasant surprise.”
Meip smiled brightly and ventured further into the room, heading towards the teacher’s side of the room. “We haven’t known each other long, Mike. But… how do you know her?”
Mike Page, both of the Twins’ favorite teacher, gave both Ross and Meip The Look. “Once upon a time,” he began, “there was a Pookah named Rose. We have yet to find out how this story will end.”
Meip gasped, and turned to look at Rose/Ross with eyes full of admiration. “You mean she’s that Rose!?” she xclaimed.
Ross felt himself begin to blush at the look on the younger agent’s face, then winced as the Words of the Real World flitted past his eyees. The, again, he winced. “I… think you need to borrow the third ‘e’ in my eyes, and fix that,” he said, offhand, before turning back to Mike, with a sheepish grin. “Actually, it’s Ross at the moment, and… Sir? We’ve got a problem. You know that… organization… you recommended? Well, we’ve both had a little… work/word related accident, and…”
Meip blushed rather sheepishly herself, but stood tall. “We were turned into Suethorss, self enserting Suethors at that. Halp?”
“‘Halp’?” asked the teacher, giving both students The Eyebrow.
Ross pulled himself up to his full height, puffing up his chest the way that this man had taught him. Because, at the moment, he was all wrong. “And how are we going to be wrong?” he asked himself, under his breath.
He was not expecting the chorus of both Meip and Mike to answer him. “Like a Roman!”
With a grin at both of his former students, Mike gestured to a pair of chairs. “So. Tell me. What, exactly, happened.”
“Well,” Meip said, pulling up a chair and sitting down. “It all began when a young, inexperienced agent was sent out on her first mission. Her assigned partner was a young woman named Rose who had completed many missions in her time at the PPC, and was, thus, quite experienced. They were sent on a mission in the Tortall universe in a fic called, A Squire’s Pain. It was very dangerous inside this fic, with many bad spellings, poor usages of grammar and out of character antics. In the course of their journey, Ross became hungry, invoked Norton Juster, and ate a 2 that had fallen near his feet. The taste was so good that he continued eating more numerals, and shared small bits of it with his newbie partner. Not long afterwards they began feeling quite strange and exhibiting some of the same awful symptoms that makes a badfic bad. They were able to successfully complete their mission, despite increasing Sue and Stu tendencies that continued to emerge. Now that their mission is over, they decided to go to the person they thought would best be able to help them, their old teacher, and mentor, Mike Page.”
Ross perched on the table, looking from Meip to Mike. “Yeah. That about sums it up…”
Mike gave both of his former students The Look. “I see.” It was, perhaps, one of the most feared phrases in TEC history. “Now, what exactly is making the characters in this story you just told me so… bad? What is it that they are doing that’s so Sue and Stu like?”
“Well, for starters, there’s this,” said Ross, opening a hand to reveal a ball of bright blue fire, with ice crystals hovering around it. “And then there’s the fact that my grammar and spelling have been being eff - aff - influenced. See what I meen? Auck!” Ross squawked at the spelling of the final word in that sentence, and shook his head, noting with displeasure that his hair had gone flaming red again. “And this isn’t hairdye. And I’m not wearing contacts,” he finished, hazarding a guess. “And I bleed glitter!”
“That’s not all,” Meip added. “He also began a sentance with um!”
Mike gasped, dramatically, throwing them both the “Bug-eyed, hair on fire” look. “Well then. This IS serious.” With that, he pulled a few sheets of paper out of his printer, and set them in front of the two Agents. “Looks like it’s time for a storytelling workshop.”
Meip beamed, and pushed Ross off the table. “Tables are not for sitting on,” she infirmed him, and pulled a pencil out of the pocket in her skirt.
Ross grinned at her, pulled out his staff pen, and saluted her, the same way he had saluted the Venerable Silver Haired Teacher himself, during fencing practice. “As you say, mademoiselle.” With that, he sat down, and pulled out his India Ink.
***
Watching Meip step through the portal to their RC, Rose bowed to Mike, and gave him a grin. As Rose/Ross (quietly riding next to each other in the controls of their body) stepped through the portal as well, Meip graced them with a small smile, and waved. “Meep…” she said, and that one meep told them that she was tired, going to go to sleep now, and for them to have a good night.
“Meep,” replied Rose/Ross, and flopped into their chair, praying.
And, at least for a little while, their prayers were answered: The Console, for once, did not beep.