PPC Writing Sample/Agent Intro
Response Center Sp’nüff(24) was very much like every other RC in the Protectors of the Plot Continuum Headquarters. It was small, and gray, and started out as relatively uninteresting. By the time our story begins, it has become a little bit more interesting, with the addition of an entire wall of bookshelves, making it rather like a library. There has also been a large, squishy, dark green armchair and the associated ottoman somehow wrestled into the RC, and situated in the corner opposite the Console. The chair held two apparent occupants, a mug of hot tea, and a few books. The occupants of the chair were a sturdy young woman in her late teens or early twenties, and the large black rat sitting on her shoulder. Both of them appeared to be reading the book that the girl held a foot or so away from her rather prominent nose - Monk’s Hood, by Ellis Peters. Her eyes, peering over square, wire-framed glasses, were focused on the slightly smudgy lettering, and she appeared to be talking to herself in two vastly different voices. The first voice was probably her natural voice, rather light in timbre and lacking any noticeable accent beyond that of ‘American’. The second voice, while still having the same accent, was slower, more careful in its speech, slightly more rhythmic, and decidedly male.
“Gods, Ross, you’re such a moog sometimes,” the girl said, smiling a little.
“Really, though,” she replied to herself, in that decidedly different voice, at least two octaves lower than the first. One hand reached up, brushing short, brownish-reddish hair out of those dark eyes. “I just can’t see why you’ve not snogged him already.”
“Ross, we’re American, we don’t say ‘snogged’.”
“Most technically, Rosie dear, we’ve picked it up from reading the words of too many brits. So. Why haven’t you snogged him yet?”
“Because… Oh you know why!” She snapped the book shut, and closed her eyes, pulling the rat from her shoulder to cuddle it against her chest. “He’s just not interested in me. In us. You know that. So please stop asking!”
“Fine, fine, but I’m just trying to make sure my little sister doesn’t end up some Old Maid sitting in her home sixty years from now having never --”
“Shut up, Ross. Besides, how the hell would you know which one of us is older? It’s not like you would remember being born first… And besides that little fact, there’s the teensy little problem of the fact that neither of us were born first! We were born at the exact same time, therefore neither of us can be the older one! We’ve been over this before!”
Agent Rose O--- was screaming at herself by now, holding onto her rat in a protective manner. To those who didn’t know better, it would look like Rose had lost her marbles.
To those who did know better, it was common knowledge that Rose had never had any marbles to begin with. Instead, she had a twin brother who lived inside her head, used her body as his own half the time, and spoke quite a bit lower than she did. Whether this was a psychological disorder or a metaphysical phenomenon, no one had yet been able to figure out, least of all the twins.
It had driven at least three partners to run screaming to FicPsych, both for treatment and to demand that Rose be dragged in for such. After the first time, Rose was indeed taken to FicPsych for an examination, and when it was found that both personalities were in fact quite sane - for HQ standards - and that, but for the fact that they shared a body, they functioned exactly as any other sibling pair would, they were sent back to their RC and assigned a new partner. After the Rose-induced-retirement of their third partner - “They talk to each other… in their sleep… no more, please, no more…” - Rose, and the boy, who called himself ‘Ross’, were allowed to go on missions solo, under the logic that, technically, they weren’t ever alone.
While all this exposition was taking place, the fight had escalated to a full-on screaming match, and probably would have ended with one of the twins in a headlock getting a nuggy, had they had separate bodies. The issue of who was older was a long debated topic, and often ended with their body in some odd contortions as one of them wrested control of their arms and in fact attempted to give the other the aforementioned treatment. They had deposited their rat on top of the Console, and were standing in the center of their RC, fuming.
Just before the fight escalated to a physical battle, the Console beeped.
“Gods, Ross, you’re such a moog sometimes,” the girl said, smiling a little.
“Really, though,” she replied to herself, in that decidedly different voice, at least two octaves lower than the first. One hand reached up, brushing short, brownish-reddish hair out of those dark eyes. “I just can’t see why you’ve not snogged him already.”
“Ross, we’re American, we don’t say ‘snogged’.”
“Most technically, Rosie dear, we’ve picked it up from reading the words of too many brits. So. Why haven’t you snogged him yet?”
“Because… Oh you know why!” She snapped the book shut, and closed her eyes, pulling the rat from her shoulder to cuddle it against her chest. “He’s just not interested in me. In us. You know that. So please stop asking!”
“Fine, fine, but I’m just trying to make sure my little sister doesn’t end up some Old Maid sitting in her home sixty years from now having never --”
“Shut up, Ross. Besides, how the hell would you know which one of us is older? It’s not like you would remember being born first… And besides that little fact, there’s the teensy little problem of the fact that neither of us were born first! We were born at the exact same time, therefore neither of us can be the older one! We’ve been over this before!”
Agent Rose O--- was screaming at herself by now, holding onto her rat in a protective manner. To those who didn’t know better, it would look like Rose had lost her marbles.
To those who did know better, it was common knowledge that Rose had never had any marbles to begin with. Instead, she had a twin brother who lived inside her head, used her body as his own half the time, and spoke quite a bit lower than she did. Whether this was a psychological disorder or a metaphysical phenomenon, no one had yet been able to figure out, least of all the twins.
It had driven at least three partners to run screaming to FicPsych, both for treatment and to demand that Rose be dragged in for such. After the first time, Rose was indeed taken to FicPsych for an examination, and when it was found that both personalities were in fact quite sane - for HQ standards - and that, but for the fact that they shared a body, they functioned exactly as any other sibling pair would, they were sent back to their RC and assigned a new partner. After the Rose-induced-retirement of their third partner - “They talk to each other… in their sleep… no more, please, no more…” - Rose, and the boy, who called himself ‘Ross’, were allowed to go on missions solo, under the logic that, technically, they weren’t ever alone.
While all this exposition was taking place, the fight had escalated to a full-on screaming match, and probably would have ended with one of the twins in a headlock getting a nuggy, had they had separate bodies. The issue of who was older was a long debated topic, and often ended with their body in some odd contortions as one of them wrested control of their arms and in fact attempted to give the other the aforementioned treatment. They had deposited their rat on top of the Console, and were standing in the center of their RC, fuming.
Just before the fight escalated to a physical battle, the Console beeped.