khajidu: (Default)
 

The Infernal Trio was in the DoP waiting room. They just applied to the PPC and were waiting for their job interview.

"There ain't nothin to read," said South. Indeed, the old magazines weren't at all appealing. "Losing weight before summer"? "Losing weight before the holidays"? "Losing weight after the holidays"? Why did it always have to be about losing weight?

Krisp was pacing around, as usual, and Whatev had already solved all the Sudokus he could find, when the door opened.

Please come in, a voice said in South's head. South could tell the others heard it too, because they looked startled. The trio entered the room, where a flower, a daisy perhaps, was sitting behind a desk.

"Hello," said the trio in rapid succession.

Hello. I am the Marquis de Sod. Please sit down. You must be the Infernal Trio?

"Yeah," said Whatev before sitting down. "I'm Whatever, and these are Southerner and Krisprolls. We use nicknames because our real names aren't, well, palatable for most people. Mine, especially. 'Statsraad Lehmkuhl' isn't quite the kind of name you get the first time."

I see. OK, so you want to work at the PPC? What do you want to do, exactly?

"Well, we've been reading a lot of badfic and we noticed quite a few abuse situations. Like, when a character is beaten the heck up and someone rescues them, only for the two of them to make out or something. We would like to end this. The abuse, I mean." Whatev knew what he was talking about. The others had gone through similar situations. "And also when the characters stop acting their own freaking ways, that's annoying."

"Don't forget the Mary Sues. Usually they're the ones to grop the guys and make the hoola dance with them."

"Krisp! Watch your frigging language!"

South interrupted the banter before Krisp could make one of his not-so-witty comebacks. "Speakin of language, that ain't no small thing either. Usually the badficcers ain't good spellers, if not worse, and their grammar is godawful."

Well, that means you're ready to accept all kinds of missions. I think you would fit well in the Department of Floaters. So, what about your fandom interests?

Whatev was the first to speak. "TV shows. Like House MD, or Numb3rs. And RPF involving U2. I just can't stand the idea of fecking band members making out with each other, or with some fraking groupies."

Krisp followed. "Well, I'm supposed to be the geeky science-fiction guy. I do Star Wars, Star Trek, Stargate, well, Atlantis, I haven't watched SG-1 for quite a while. And Watchmen. Since I watched this film... Well, I mean, since I read the badfic... Now, I'm reading the real books. And, well, I second Whatev for U2 bandslash." Krisp was more and more excited and looked ready to explode if he didn't get a first mission in the next five seconds. "South, your turn."

"Thanks, Krisp." South wasn't sure the PPC was involved in that many fantasy series besides Discworld, but you never knew. "Well, for my part I read fantasy books. Discworld, read a few, A Song of Ice and Fire, too. Vlad Taltos books, I loved them. I'm currently readin' the Rai-kirah trilogy, that's the kinda books which make you stay up until 3am. Eragon and Twilight, not my cuppa, though."

Well, it looks like we have a new team.

"Yay!" Krisp did explode.

I see you're eager.

The trio giggled. Krisp had his way to get attention.

So, one last question before you go. Would you like a TARDIS or just a Response Center ?

"TARDIS!"

"Krisp, I think this morning's third coffee was one too many. Tone it down."

"What', you didn't see him have the next two." South was exaggerating, it was just one more, but the more the merrier.

"The next TWO?" Whatev was genuinely startled. Krisp and coffee didn't make good friends.

"I didn't take any fifth one!"

"You admit you drank four frelling coffees this morning, then? This. is. Bad."

South couldn't help laughing.

Well, so it is, a TARDIS. Looks like 'one of you' needs the space. But first you'll have to prove yourself, you're not here to count snowflakes. You'll have to accomplish a probationary mission. In the meanwhile, you'll be located to a Response Center. And try not to feed your friend coffee, or stop putting... things in it. And for the TARDIS... In order to keep it, you'll have to be a little bit successful, see what I mean, because we don't have that many TARDISes right now. You're even lucky you can get one. Well, if you don't have any questions, I guess we can call it an interview, then. Good luck in your missions. You'll need a lot of it. One last thing. When you go somewhere, don't think too much about it. You'll get there faster.

"Thanks. Goodbye," Whatev said.

The trio then went to their new RC, RC#20736. The Flower's advice was sound: they kept bantering and almost bumped in the door. Krisp hurmed all the way because he didn't get his TARDIS right away and it was becoming annoying, hence the banter.

The trio entered RC #20736 when...


BEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEP!


"What, so fast?"

khajidu: (Default)
Hello hello, here is my team of PPC agents. They name themselves "The Infernal Trio" (and deserve this name) and were individually named after three real-world Norwegian tall ships (that's because some sick and twisted mind (aka me) found it fun to download into androids the personalities said ships would have if they'd been sentient. Sick and twisted, I said.) When they took humanoid form, they decided to join the PPC because it was the best place for them to be sick and twisted too.
OK, let's have a go.

Agent Whatev
Name : Statsraad Lehmkuhl
Nicknames : Whatever (because nobody could pronounce his name (I can hardly type it, I understand the feeling) and they dropped the matter by saying "whatever" and it stuck), Whatev, What', Whatshisname
Species : Android (think something like a Cylon, partly organic and partly electronic, but without the fancy quirks unique to them)
Home continuum : my own (SF universe)
Age : 95 and counting (they count from the time they're fully developed and adult-sized. Android bodies age twice slower than human ones, so he looks almost 50).
Height : almost 6'7 (2.04m)
Weight : 1701 tons... uh no, whatever. Takes time to adapt to a new body.
Family : Huge. 2 sons (the other agents), 3 siblings, 5 nephews, 5 grand-nephews, soon a new generation will be coming, aw aw aw
Department : Floaters
Specialties : TV shows, U2
Hot Buttons : abuse, hurt/comfort
Weapons of choice : bare-handed combat
Lust Object : she died during WW2 (otherwise they would be the Infernal Quintet or more)
Background : German origin, lived there during both World Wars (well, they snatched him back during WW2, these guys were very possessive back then). Doesn't like talking about this time, especially because his sons had much worse than him, and let's not mention their mother.
Personality : Often takes the lead of the team, tries to talk the others out of bad ideas (when they're not his), banters a lot with them.

Agent South
Name : Sorlandet (after the most Southern region of Norway. Hence the nicknames)
Nicknames : Northern Southerner, Southerner, South
Species : Android
Home continuum : my own
Age : 82 (looks around 40)
Height : 5'5 (1.65m)
Weight : next question ?
Family : see above
Department : Floaters
Specialties : Fantasy books
Hot Buttons : Bad grammar, bad writing, bad humor
Weapon of choice : Ranged weapons (die FAST, Mary Sue)
Lust Object : We don't have no stinkin Lust Objects.
Background : Almost died during WW2
Personality : Has a very dry and dark humor, likes to fake Southern accent when speaking English (see above). Likes bantering his brother about his size (and vice versa). He and his brother also like to rub people's shit in their faces, 'cuz it's funny.

Agent Krisp
Name : Christian Radich
Nicknames : Krisprolls (after a Swedish roasted bread brand, which is ironic because he's Norwegian), Krisp
Species : Android
Home continuum : my own
Age : 72, looks 35 or so
Height : 5'7 (1.70m)
Weight : Unless you want to try...
Family : see above
Department : hurm, see above, ok, Floaters
Specialties : Star Wars, Star Trek, Stargate, Watchmen, U2
Hot Buttons : Mary Sues (kill kill kill), OOCness, bad sex scenes
Weapons of choice : whatever is nearby. Blunt objects, sharp objects, 'pointy ens'... The guy who made this flamethrower with an aerosol bomb and a lighter was a GENIUS. He didn't have a Swiss knife or the obligate two strings and he DID MAKE IT.
Lust Object : None. Or the entire multiverse population, it depends.
Background : Born just before WW2. WW2 was NSFB (well it was NSFL for many people) and he's a proof. Well, when you witness your mother's horrible death, you almost die, your brother almost dies, your father comes back looking like he had a Darth Vader-like bad trip... you learn life is not to be taken seriously.
Personality : The craziest and the geekiest of the trio. Very extrovert and social. Makes witty remarks (well, more than the other two), and loves making sexual innuendos. Specialist for bad ideas (the kind which end up in "Things you're not allowed to do at the PPC"). Thinks and acts fast (too fast ?).

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April 2009

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