Wyvern

Wyvern adjusted the giant white "(Patron Saint of) Party Crasher" bib wrapped around his neck as he paced through the grill area of Cole and Mordekai's barbecue. The reptilian Elder wasted no time on idle chatter, ignoring the hosts and various Pen guests in order to focus on the weenies at hand. He made sure that his bib was triple-knotted in the back, then attached an empty wooden crate to his Almost Dragonic Brand Backwards Glue-on Belt™ and began loading it with weenies of all shapes and sizes. The overgrown lizard licked his lips as he chewed on several flavorful meats at once, easily managing to dump several dozen weenies into his crate at a time whilst nibbling on half a dozen more in the process. Wyvern paused as he finally reached the area where Cole, Mordekai and the others had gathered in his quest for snacks. Half of the food of the Barbecue had already disappeared under his claw, and the lizard didn't seem to be showing any signs of slowing down. "Hiya *snarf, gobble, gulp* folksss." Wyvern pinned a couple of weenies onto his horns and raised a claw in greeting. "It'sss... Mole and Gordicky right? Nice lil' barbecue you got here, thanksss for the invite. Here, I brought ya this as a lil' token of good will." Wyvern grinned and held up a small black bottle, which was messily labeled "Almost Dragonic Brand W13 Mince Meat Sauce." The overgrown lizard tapped a claw on a lock with a coin slot attached to the top of the bottle, then set it on the central table with a snicker. "Jussst insert 5 geld per squirt. And careful, that stuff's strong..." Wyvern glanced at the bottle as if expecting it to come to life and wreak havoc, then hissed a long sigh of relief. "Now, if you gentlemen will excussse me, I'm off to get some fooooooood!"

The news cameras slide by the portrait of a short and elegant-looking pennite, whose azure face and features are the same tint as the wallpaper and carpet design of the surrounding quarters. The name “Finnius Mustardio Jalopini Canard O'Harpy” is inscribed on the bronze rose designs framing the picture, and below it is an information card tacked on the wall that reads: Blue Man of the Pen/ Why do girls want to harm him?/ He’s so genial. “Greetingsss newsss fans, and welcome to another Almost Report.” The cameras immediately turn in the direction of Wyvern, who is seated on a comfy recliner next to a fireplace where a lively blue fire roars away. The overgrown lizard adjusts his blue smoking jacket, which might have looked good on his scales had it not been for their clashing crimson color, and sets a glass of blueberry sherry down on a glass counter adjacent to him. Wyvern plucks the booze-bubble pipe out of his mouth and tosses it to the side, then lowers his deep blue shades and hisses to the cameras. “Reporting to you live thisss week from Finnius’ personal Pen poetry lounge, can you dig it?” Wyvern leans back in his seat coolly and flashes a winning grin, only to pause and quickly place a claw over the “F” emblazoned on the smoking jacket, not wanting to give the audience the impression that he was stealing any of Finnius’ stuff… “*Ahem* We have a real hip show for you tonight with a bit of almost dragonic poetry and a bunch of almost dragonic machismo, so ssstay tuned to our limited air time in the home of the Patron Saint of Haikussss.” Wyvern attempts to snap both of his claws while scatting under his breath to seem “with it,” but fails to produce accurate sounds as the claws scraping together mesh with the barrage of little hisses. “*Hrherm* At the top of the Pen newsss this evening, the Almossst Report would like to take a moment to acknowledge a few pennite birthdays, belated poetry café ssstyle.” Wyvern circles one claw in the air in a nonchalant manner as he uses his other to dig out a little rectangular card from his robe. The overgrown lizard breathes in deeply and rests his claws in a meditative state before raising the card to his snout and going cross-eyed over it. “Thissss first lil’ number is dedicated to troubled sssleep, who celebrated her birthday last week.” Wyvern snorts loudly and spits a bit of ash into the near-empty glass of blueberry sherry at his side, then clears his throat and reads: ~TS~ Fine telepathy/ but also minding others/ A great troubled sleep. Wyvern nods to himself as he folds the card and places it on his lap, tilting his snout up in a haughty manner and hissing: “Hope ya enjoyed that, troubled sleep. And now, another almost dragonic haiku in honor of Sora Hikari’s birthday:” ~SH~ Foxy and Jacki/ Yue, Xiao, Max and Blackjack/ Plus Sora’s B-day. “Hope the two of you had great onesss.” Wyvern grins to the cameras and crumples the second poem card together with the first one, then tosses them both into the fireplace to watch the cool blue effects that it produces. The fireplace roars upward in a semi-dangerous manner for a moment, causing Wyvern to jump from his seat. “I-i-in other Pen newsss, d-don’t forget to check out smallscale mind games’ new Pen Barbeque in the Conssservatory. N-now, if I could jussst prevent a BBQ from happenin over here…” Wyvern picks up his glass of sherry and tosses its contents into the fire in the hopes of dousing it, only to watch it flare up ten-fold in a more-than-semi-dangerous manner. The reptilian reporter stammers and loses his cool, glancing left and right before noticing a panel of instructions labeled “Safety Procedures” on the wall to the left of the fireplace. He races over to the panel and presses his snout against it, only to go glum as he reads it. “Safety Procedures” When the fire gets hot/ there are many procedures/ to take right away. “A haiku…?” Wyvern’s eyes go tiny as the fire continues raging on, threatening the safety of the fireplace. “You gotta be kidding me...” *static*

Last night, I went and saw James Pants & Daedelus perform at the the Elbo Room in San Francisco. The Elbo Room was far more packed than I'd ever seen it before for this event, possibly because it was part of some weekly clubbing event called "Bodyheat" that seemed to draw a lot of San Francisco people out. That, or James Pants and Daedelus just have much larger fanbases than I expected. Anyway, another thing that was unusual for the Elbo Room this evening was that they had a big set-up of mist machines and dancing light effects from all angles, which made for a pretty cool atmosphere but which also got a bit annoying after a while. Unfortunately, due to the set up it was pretty much impossible to take good photos of the event, so no photographic evidence for this show. After a DJ named Blackjack spun a bunch of techno numbers, Daedelus was the first to take the stage to perform. The last time I saw him was in a much smaller crowd in San Francisco, but the larger audience seemed to be really digging his stuff despite one or two hagglers not being into it. Daedelus did another of his signature experimental beat sets using his laptop and his big machine of flashing buttons, which he used to manipulate the sounds of various tracks in a skillful manner. Some highlights of his set were when he took the beginning of Nirvana's "Never Mind" and constructed a beat out of it using repeated vocal samples and an additional electronic backdrop, and when he did an experimental live rendition of his already crazy track "Sawtooth EKG." Daedelus is definitely one of the best modern beat-makers working in hip hop and electronica, and though his live set is considerably different than his recorded material, it's certainly a spectacle worth beholding. Very nice set. Once Daedelus finished, James Pants came out and spun an impressive and eclectic DJ mix set. James Pants is a weird electronica producer in his own right, with a kind of nostalgic emphasis on music of the 80s and 70s, but he performed very little of his own material in favor of a party mix set that showed his very diverse tastes in music. It seemed that one of James Pants' goals for the evening was to tap into as many danceable genres of music as possible, and he went from obscure funk and soul numbers to disco to rock (Led Zeppelin's "Whole Lotta Love" was spun to great effect) to old school hip hop to Brazilian to electronica to regional Mexican music. He even cleverly included a section for karaoke music, singing over some old funk number and holding the mic out for various people in the crowd to sing along too. While I generally wouldn't go out and pay to see someone spinning records, James Pants' mix was exceptional and a nice compliment to Daedelus' electronic set. Good show.

Nice poem, cryptomancer. :-) I liked the repetition and the way you emphasized the rhyme scheme in the final stanza to bring it to a close. The themes of coming to terms with the pain of solitude and the darker sides of life were also reflected well here. I felt like the two-syllable "ain" words didn't read quite as smoothly as the one-syllable ones, but I like how you intentionally start with one-syllable words ending the first line of each stanza and then switch over to two-syllable words for the second half of the poem up until the last stanza... it gave me the sense that the poem was moving into more complex territory. Anyway, nicely done once again crypt, thanks for sharing this.

Wyvern barges into the Cabaret Room with a grip of ragged papers clutched in his claws, brushing past Ozymandias and making the Raven flutter for a moment as he comes to a halt near Gwaihir and Norman at the expresso machine. The overgrown lizard nods to the two pennites, then whips out a flask of Bruteweiser and begins shooting expresso into it. "I call thisss 'The Idiot's Coffee.'" Wyvern winks to the surrounding pennites and grins, then lifts his flask up in a toast of sorts and takes a long swig. Wyvern's tail seems to suddenly straighten out and go rigid as the cocktail takes effect. "S-S-S-sso anyway, Norman, I wasss thinking of a question for thisss wordplay thing of yours and came up with a few things." Wyvern lifts the messy pack of papers in his claws with a grin, oblivious to Norman's glum expression. "Anyway, I definitely had to narrow thingssss down... there were a lotta questionsss about scheming methods of course, those were the first to go since I'm a pretty damn good schemer as it isss. Then there was 'mirror mirror on the wall, why is Wyvern the prettiest of them all?', but that got dropped when I realized it was my sexy scales and suave demeanor. Then 'is there a purpose greater than geld?' got dropped cus I might as well have been asssking about the meaning of life, and I narrowed out 'where O where has CheerMynx gone?' by a sssmall margin cus she couldn't be too far. 'What is the best spot to spy on Pen ladies undressing?' and conversely 'what is the best spot to spy on Tzimfemme dressing?'... thossse were tough ones to drop, but I decided that the answers were best sought in trial and error. Anyway, the bottom line isss that I finally came up with a perfect quessstion for you, Norman. Here it isss." Wyvern clears his throat and reaches into a pocket of his tunic, pulling out a tiny sheet of paper that looks like something one might find inside a fortune cookie. He hands the question to Norman with a toothy grin. The sheet reads: "What sort of question should Wyvern ask in order to influence Norman the Runt to buy Almost Dragonic Brand Imitation Orc Tusk Enlargers™?"

The central news camera flickers on, only to immediately go black as a tossed article of clothing slaps against its lens. A webbed hand brushes the black tank top to the side, revealing a wide closet area where Wyvern shuffles through piles of clothes with a slightly frantic look on his snout. If disheveled appearances are anything to go by, the reptilian reporter has decidedly seen better days. The scales on his head point in every direction and the loose inside-out T-shirt he’s wearing is riddled with curly onion cheese doodle grease stains. Wyvern lets out a long hiss as he digs deep into the pile of shirts, twisting his snout as he comes up empty-handed. “C’mon, Arlequin’s lute’s gotta be around here sssomewhere!” Wyvern sighs and makes a messy pile out of the clothes he was sorting through before turning to exit the closet. He accidentally wacks the pile of clothes with the length of his tail as he turns, scattering black dresses and undergarments. “The price tag on that thing is jussst too high to have it on permanent loan from Arlequin’sss quartersss, especially given the recent plummet in show ratingsss.” The cameras move out of the closet and pan over the sketches of creatures and their anatomies that hang on the wall, passing by a scythe leaning near a corner of the room before Wyvern blocks the view of the cameras with one of his wings. “Where could it be? I mean, it’sss not that small an instrument is it?” Wyvern turns to the news crew, only to suddenly notice that the cameras are rolling. He slaps his forehead with a claw, then clears his throat and goes right back to searching with a hectic flail of his claws. “Welcome to the Almossst Report, broadcasting to you live from Degorram’s persssonal Pen quarters. Tryin’ our best to stay afloat in today’s solitary news climate… with an Almost Dragonic Brand Deflatable Pixie Lifevest,™ no less. Anyway, lotsa Pen news cover today, so lisssten up.” Wyvern begins tracing his claws over the various sketches that hang on the walls as he speaks, searching for any secret compartments the size of a lute. “At the top of the Pen newsss this afternoon, September Pen Promotionsss will unfortunately not be taking place this month.” Wyvern kneels down and peeks under Dego’s carpet for a moment, scanning for musical instruments. “This is not due to Elder absences or scheduling conflictsss, but rather that there’s no one to promote this month and hence no need for a promotions thread. Expect the next ssset of promotions to occur in November.” Wyvern grumbles and wanders over to Degorram’s desk, scanning it for any odd shapes or shadows. He shifts through papers, pictures, paintbrushes and quills in the hopes of finding the expensive instrument buried somewhere, but curses as he comes up short. “In other Pen newsss, resident orc Norman the Runt is taking questionsss and offering challenges in return via his wordplay booth in the Cabaret Room.” Wyvern pauses for a moment as he discovers a dried lizard amongst the items on Degorram’s desktop. He pokes at it, then shivers to himself and backs away with a frown. “*ahem* Pen members are encouraged to participate in the event, and are extra-encouraged to enquire about the whereabouts of Arlequin’s lute…” Wyvern hisses to himself and moves over to Degorram’s bed, which looks rather messy and chaotic when compared to the organized state of the rest of the quarters. He tosses a pillow to the side and digs through the thick quilts of the resting space, plunging in headfirst. The cameras lose track of Wyvern as he digs deeper, and decide to focus on a shot of his rear end as it juts from the bed sheets like an Almost Dragonic Brand Spiky Scale Bedwarmer™. The troglyodyte soundmen adjust their volume levels as Wyvern’s hiss is faintly heard beneath the sheets. “Pen members interested in sharing some of their other social localesss may also wanna check the recently ressssurected myspace/facebook Cabaret discussion. Or if that failsss, there’s always Almost Dragonic Brand Inky Pennite Tracking Magnets,™ which're available for only 50 geld per order and shipping this inssstant.” Wyvern emerges from the mountain of quilts and pillows with a gasp, clutching something in one of his claws. The reptilian reporter glances at the plush wyvern doll he’s holding and blushes, then tosses the doll to the side and lets out a little sigh. “To wrap thingsss up, there’s a chance that the Almost Report ssscheduled for 9/8/08 may be delayed to a later date or possssibly cancelled. Blame it on funding issuesss, viewership ratings, and post-CheerMynx depression.” Wyvern tilts his head over the side of the bed until he’s hanging upside down and staring under it. The reptilian reporter shifts from his position until he falls off of the bed, then begins attempting to squeeze under it. “Now if you’ll excussse me, *grunt* I have a lute to seek out…”

Sorry to hear that your home's the target of stormy weathers, Xaious. Thanks for the update, it's good to hear that you're moving to some place safe. I look forward to your return to the Pen whenever you get there, and we'll be thinking of you until then. With that, Wyvern hands Xaious an Almost Dragonic Brand Shredded Tax Document Notepad™, and tells him he can pay for it when he returns... with interest, of course!

This evening, I went and saw Giant Panda, Hopie Spitshard, and Niko Villamor at the 111 Minna Gallery in San Francisco. This was my first time at the Minna Gallery, and it seemed like a cool little art gallery with some interesting paintings and a nice design. I ended up arriving there way too early (aka at the time scheduled on their website) and had to wait a little over two hours for anything to happen, which was tiring and something I should have anticipated at this point. I was a little surprised at the lack of a stage in the Minna Gallery at first, but they opened a wall that led into another area of the venue with a full stage shortly before the live entertainment started. I should note that their stage was decorated with a very cool Obama-meets-Lincoln painting, and there was also live art by Dyno Crew and J.Todd.O during the sets, which was nice. On the downside, the sound quality of the venue wasn't the greatest, though it wasn't really terrible either. The first act to perform was a rapper by the name of Niko Villamor, who was not very impressive and didn't get much of a response from the crowd. I thought he lacked a certain personality and charisma on stage that prevented his songs from ever really engaging the audience, but on the plus side he invited up a rapper friend of his called J. Millions who was actually quite good and outshined him on their collaborative tracks. Niko Villamor's set was mercifully short, and didn't leave much of an impression on me. The curiously named Hopie Spitshard was the next to take the stage to kick rhymes, and seemed to be the reason that most people came out to the show despite Giant Panda's wider discography and overall popularity. I'd never really heard of her until this evening, but am guessing that she's one of those local bay area phenomenons and that she had a lot of supportive friends in the venue. Her set was a lot better than Niko Villamor's as she definitely had her own stage presence and personality on the mic, though she's far from the most talented female MC and her high-pitched voice and cadence took some getting used to. Still, she had some pretty likeable tracks and a few standout verses, and the crowd seemed to be into her stuff. While I wouldn't run out to buy her CD after seeing her live, Hopie's set gets a nod of respect from me. Giant Panda were the last ones to come out to perform, and put on the best set of the evening by far. They were the main reason that I came out to see the show, and lived up to the fun and energetic feel of their albums with their live show. Newman and Chikaramanga (possibly the best japanese rapper I've heard) were both very good performers, but Maanumental's performance stood out to me the most with his intense energetic rhymes and effortless swagger. The three MCs knew how to play off each others rhymes well, with Chikaramanga mostly handling the turntables but stepping out to kick a verse every now and then, and their set got me dancing in a major way. The frustrating thing about it was that most of the Minna Gallery crowd didn't seem to even care that Giant Panda was there, and kind of peetered out after Hopie Spitshard left! It angers me when a group a hundred times more skilled than another group gets no love because the crowd doesn't know them on a personal basis... the lack of any enthusiasm in music crowds is something that really bugs me about live shows these days. Great set from Giant Panda, overall.

I recently caught "Vicky Christina Barcelona" and "Ne le Dis a Personne" in theatres with some relatives of mine. "Vicky Christina Barcelona" is the latest Woody Allen flick, and deviates from his recent contemplations of murder ("Match Point," "Cassandra's Dream") into a more traditional romantic comedy territory. The film boasts an interesting cast with Scarlett Johansson, Penelope Cruz, and Javier Bardem (fresh off of his Oscar for Best Supporting Actor in "No Country for Old Men") all starring in it. I found the film pretty enjoyable, though not excellent by any means... there were certainly some interesting dynamics between characters, but it was not without its flaws. Scarlett and Penelope were both good and Rebecca Hall deserves credit for her contributions to the film. Javier Bardem was the most likeable character to me, though, and stole the show with his portrayal of an ultra-suave painter. On the negative side of things, the narrator was a bit annoying to me and the film dragged a little at points. Pretty good movie though, worth a DVD rental if you feel like watching something about the dynamics and complications of relationships. "Ne le Dis a Personne" ("Tell No One") is a French film that was apparently released in 2006 but only just made its way over here. The film deals with a man whose wife is murdered during a camping trip, which all seems very linear and tragic until he receives an e-mail from her 8 years later. One slight problem that I had with this film is that it seemed like it couldn't quite decide on what sort of film it wanted to be... it started off looking like a thriller, then swerved into police detective territory, then started seeming like a spy flick, then a ghetto streets picture, etc. To the film's credit, there were parts that were filmed very stylishly and the music was surprisingly excellent throughout it... from the Otis Redding number to an excellent scene involving an internet cafe while a U2 track plays in the background, I thought the soundtrack was very well put together. This movie is not too bad overall, though for all its complicated twists and turns I found the ending extremely cliched and predictable in an unforgivable way. Looking forward to checking out the new Coen brothers film "Burn After Reading" next month... they're not my favorite directors and can be a little hit or miss to me, but I still acknowledge that their films are always a little more interesting than your average blockbuster!

The news cameras flicker on and turn to an area where a TV and VCR rest in a cozy-looking circular room of the Pen. Wyvern whips his tail back and forth as he adjusts the “Elder of Initiates” badge and formal grey Pen recruiter jacket on his scales, balancing one foot on a Gamecube and the other foot on a Playstation in the hopes of giving himself a bit of extra height. The overgrown lizard adjusts the geld symbol tie wrapped tightly around his neck and turns his head towards the cameras, flashing a toothy grin as he wobbles back and forth on his gaming system platforms. “Greetingsss, one and all, and welcome to a ssspecial infomercial edition of the Almossst Report. Broadcasting to you live from Sora Hikari’s tower abode, with a specific Sora Hikari-related purpose in mind.” Wyvern claps his claws together, then winks and points one of them at the cameras. “Given the lack of urgent Pen newsss and the lack of… well… *sniffle* …*ahem* other Report things to attend to, we figured we’d take thisss opportunity to try and motivate Sora Hikari to sssubmit an official Pen application to the Recruiter’s Office. That way, I can read it over and hopefully get a decent bribe from her! Plus, it’d nice if she wasss ‘officially’ a member in our ranks or whatever.” Wyvern taps the VCR behind him with his tail stinger just to make sure that it’s on and humming, then reaches into the front of his pants and pulls out a battered VHS video cassette. “How do we motivate Sora Hikari to apply, you asssk?” Wyvern points at the label on the video, which reads “Pen Applications in 666 EZ Steps,” then stoops down to insert it in the player. The overgrown lizard loses his balance and falls on his rear in the process, landing on the floor with a painful crunch of damaged gaming equipment. “Well *ow* let’sss start with this old promotional Pen video and take it from there...” The news cameras focus on the TV screen as the words “Almost Dragonic Brand Productions Presents…” pan across it. The words fade into a shaky black and white image of Wyvern’s Recruiter’s Office. The footage is so old that it even contains a shot of Wyvern’s long-lost secretary Melba working away in the background at a desk long since buried in paperwork. Wyvern steps into the picture wearing the exact same grey Pen recruiter jacket and badge, though the way the scales poke up on his head make him look slightly more youthful and rebellious. “Greetingsss, I’m Wyvern Q. Almostdragon. You may remember me from such films as ‘Bury the Snake’ and that ad for Almost Dragonic Brand Ready-Made Pen Application Dosssiers.™ Well, I’m here to talk to you today about submitting formal applications to the Pen.” Wyvern walks up to a chair in the video and sticks one of his feet up onto it, crossing his arms and posing with a cheesy guidance counselor demeanor. “Now, you might be wondering, ‘why should I apply to the Pen?’ I mean, you get the same responses and post in the same forums, so what’sss the point? Well, the answer is really quite simple…” Wyvern pulls out an extremely complicated chart containing several multi-layered pie diagrams stacked in a rough triangular formation. If that weren’t bad enough, the chart’s color-coding is lost to the black and white of the video. “Submitting an official application to the Pen is the only way you’ll be able to participate in Almost Dragonic Brand Nanotoknonnen Style Pyramid Schemes.™ When you become an Initiate, you can hand over 200 geld to yoursss truly to start getting involved! Returnsss widely vary on conduct. Initiates typically perform minor choresss for Almost Dragonic Inc., but Pagesss can become full-time Wyvern servants and female Quillbearersss may even get a shot in bed with-” The video goes to static, causing Wyvern to curse. He kneels back down and bangs the VCR with a claw in the hopes of getting it working again, only to smash the VCR to pieces in the process. The reptilian reporter clears his throat loudly and turns to the news cameras as rejected tape begins spewing out of the broken VCR and making a mess on Sora’s floor. “*Ahem* In cassse that promotional video wasssn’t convincing enough, the Almost Report isss now taking guest callers to encourage Sora Hikari to deliver a Pen application.” Wyvern taps his claws on the side of Sora’s DVD shelf and nervously glances at a glowing crystal ball that has yet to chime. “Pennites can possst their calls right in thisss thread, the incantation number is 1-900-SORASHOULDSPEND. That’sss 1-900-SORASHOULDSPEND. Call now and our operators will link your voice and image directly to the crystal ball for Sora Hikari and all to sssee.” Wyvern presses his claws together and stares at the cameras with a wide grin for several minutes, sweeping the broken gaming equipment to the side with his tail and getting it caught in the tangled video tape in the process. The overgrown lizard eventually stands up and wanders over to Sora’s comfy-looking recliner, dragging stray video tape across the floor in the process. He collapses into the seat and glances back over at the crystal ball, hoping that the news crew won’t have to resort to Operation Xiao X…

Can't comment on the latin since I'm clueless in that area, but I like the translation that you put up of it Dego. :-) The imagery definitely speaks towards the themes of sadness and seperation, and the way that you draw emotions from nature is cool. The thought of being sent off "kindly" at the end of the poem almost felt like an improbability given the sorrowful word choices like "laments" and "pour out their tears" earlier on. Anyway, thanks for sharing this here Dego, glad that the writing didn't go to waste. :-)

Ah, here it is! :-) Thanks for re-posting this poem of yours Ozymandias, I like it quite a bit and really appreciate the heartfelt honesty that I assume lies at its foundation. I like the reference to the chat window and the other elements that the narrator finds happiness in, as there was definitely a genuine feel of comfort behind them. The descriptions of the room felt personal as well, with the comic books and Alton Brown reference standing out to me in particular... though the segment in parentheses felt a little like a side comment and didn't add much to the poem to me. Anyway, thanks again for sharing this Ozy. :-) Cool stuff.

Wyvern nods and vigorously scribbles things down on his notepad, occasionally even ceasing his doodling and jotting a few notes down between the jagged pictures of a towering geld storage facility and CheerMynx in a tight economist number. He licks his lips and taps his quill on the pad for a few minutes, then skims back over a few of the pointers he found noteworthy and hisses. "Waitaminute... sssso you're saying that only high-quality human beings are worth ssstaying with? What about us almost dragonic typesss, surely there's a spot for us somewhere in a scintillating triple profit sharing economic boom at least?" Wyvern twists his snout in an upset manner and absent-mindedly bites one of his claws as he continues skimming. "None of this isss even accounting for instances of economic depression. And economics sssecond? I mean, I'm not saying it should be firssst, but let's give geld some credit here!" Wyvern snorts loudly, then flicks his tongue out and shrugs. He tears the CheerMynx doodle from the notepad and stuffs it into one of his pockets, then tosses the rest of the pad over his shoulder. He wacks it with his tail once its hit the floor for good measure. "Of courssse, in thisss scenario of successful economics equating to successful romance, I'll be coming out on top." Wyvern sticks his snout up with a grin and rubs a claw over his chest. "After all, Almost Dragonic Brand Chocolaty Economic Bon-Bonds™ just went on the market. I'm expecting some returns verrrryyy shortly." Wyvern sticks to his bravado until a troglyodyte enters the Library carrying a frighteningly small sheet labeled "Almost Dragonic Brand Chocolaty Economic Bon-Bonds™ Sales Figures." Wyvern ceases sticking his snout up so that he can properly read the numbers on the sheet that the troglyodyte is holding, only to hang his head low as he registers them in full. "Ah." Wyvern's scales all droop in sync as he takes another look at the sheet, hunching his back and his shoulders while his wings fall low. He slowly takes the sheet from the troglyodyte messenger and reads over it several times before handing it back, letting his tail move across the floor in a slow painful motion. Wyvern lets out a shaky sigh and turns away from Vigil and Ozymandias, sniffling to himself and fiddling with his claws as the numbers and their correspondence to the economy of love settle in all too well. "Well... we did the best with the resssources we had, I guess..." With that, Wyvern shuffles his way to the Library exit in the hopes of escaping without being seen and with a minimum of snide remarks following him...

Interesting short, Quincunx. :-) Oddly, the first two times I read it, my brain somehow didn't connect the title of the work to the subject it was dealing with. I gathered that it was a person on the verge of dying, though, after which point the title suddenly registered with me. I like how you use the fly in this piece, as the way that it provided the starving man with brief moments of mental escape was an interesting concept and quite sad. One thing that threw me off when initially reading this was the "vaporous" description of the side of the man facing the sky... the imagery circulating around vapor was tougher for me to visualize, though perhaps the vaporous elements were meant to extend beyond the physical? This is nicely done Quin, short as it may be. Thanks for sharing it. :-)

The news cameras tune in to pitch blackness as the sound of troglyodyte whispering echoes in the background. After several minutes of blind shuffling, cursing, and clanging equipment, two pale overheard lights flash on. The spotlights leave most of the room in darkness, but illuminate small sections of what appears to be CheerMynx’s Bedroom HQ… though the colorless hue that the lights bath the décor in make it hard to recognize the cheerline’s vibrant dwellings. The cameras turn and catch the sight of Wyvern as a spotlight passes by his wings, illuminating his ill-fitted magician tuxedo and horn-tipped top hat. The overgrown lizard lets out a hiss and gestures to the cameras, signaling for them to turn in the opposite direction until they’re facing a blank screen that has been set up on the wall opposite of CheerMynx’s bed. Little flickers of shadows dance along the screen until a small Wyvern-shaped silhouette appears. The cameras focus on the shadow while the sound systems pick up Wyvern’s familiar hissing in the background. “Greetingssss, and welcome to the Almost Report’sss first ever shadow puppet exclusssive.” The miniature Wyvern shadow strikes a crooked bow and shuffles across the screen in jerky movements. “Reporting to you live from CheerMynx’s Bedroom HQ in one of our cheapessst special effects budgets to date! Ssstay tuned for shady news, shadier gimmicks, and advertisements for Almost Dragonic Brand Neon Flasherlights.™” The Wyvern shadow puppet shuffles to the far left as a rotund blob of sorts splatters its way onto the center of the screen. The shadow seems to dribble down the screen for a moment before slowly sprouting a number of tiny rectangular shadows that almost resemble horns. “Of courssse, there’sss more than just special effectsss budgets and Neon Flasherlight™ advertisements behind thisss shadow puppet display show. The Almost Report would alssso like to send its very best belated birthday wishes to Yui-chan, who celebrated lassst week. Here’sss hoping you had a great one, Yui! Hope ya like the cake.” Wyvern pauses as a troglyodyte news person rushes up to the screen and tapes a tag labeled “Shadow Birthday Cake” under the blob with the many candle horns. “Made from only the mossst genuine of ingredientsss, I assure you.” The cameras turn for a moment to direct their attention towards Wyvern, who is seated on CheerMynx’s bedside and gobbling down pieces of vanilla cake while getting white frosting smeared all over his snout. The cameras catch sight of the spotlight next to Wyvern, which has an actual piece of cake smooshed onto it to produce the shadow cake effect. They then turn back in the direction of the shadow screen as Wyvern shoos them away with a claw. “In further newsss, the Almossst Report needsss you to aid in our reporting!” The Wyvern puppet on the screen seems to transform into a giant claw, which points itself at the cameras. “We need fresh newsss items to report on in the Pen’s current lull, ssso feel free to go make some news so we can slander it and use it to promote Almost Dragonic Brand Products in typical Almost Report fashion. Heck, you can even hit usss with exclusssives over PM if ya want. Oh, and if you’d like the Report to hit your Pen quarters in a non-illegal manner and we haven’t paid a visssit to you yet, you can feel free to suggest it... for a price.” With that, the lights of the screen begin to go dim, only to suddenly flare up in an annoying range of rapidly flashing neon colors that could only be produced by Almost Dragonic Brand Neon Flasherlights.™ The general lights of the room flicker back on as a troglyodyte runs across the screen screaming and clutching his eyes from the flasherlight display, knocking over the shadow screen as he collides into it and setting off an alarm of some sort in the process. Somewhere in the midst of the flood of news troglyodytes that follows the accident, Wyvern’s disgruntled hisses are heard. “Cut! CUT!”

Today, I went and saw a free in-store performance by Immortal Technique at Rasputin's Records in Berkeley. I remember Immortal Technique being a very impressive live performer a few years back when I saw him in Washington DC, but I've gotten a bit tired of his revolutionary "overthrow the government" persona since then and find it a bit gimmicky. Unfortunately, he didn't strike me as being particularly impressive live this time around either... he rolled on stage about 40 minutes late with a posse including rapper Poison Pen and kicked a couple of tracks in an adequate though unexciting manner. While I remember him being very calm and confident with his aggressive lyricism back in DC, he seemed to be trying to be a little more hype with his rapping here and it didn't work as well as it should have. The most annoying part of his set was that he paused between every song to go on a 5 minute tirade of political boasting, which made it feel more like a stuck-up lecturer talking than a performer. There was a large crowd in attendence, including a few 8 year old girls sporting khaki caps and bandanas who were really into it, but overall this show was not my cup of tea.

As I noted to you before, this is a neat little poem Patrick. :-) It's cool to see some poetry inspired by the recent European pennite US trips, and the photo of the New York BBQ fire that you took compliments the poem nicely. I like the happy and almost romantic tone of this poem, which is prominent to me despite the "Burning lives away" line ringing a slightly different note. Anyway, thanks for sharing this here... now where are those US-tour Pen gathering pics at, dang it?! *nags Patrick to get more permissions from people* ^_-

Wyvern barges into the Cabaret Room and raises a claw to Gwaihir in greeting, flashing a grin full of razor-sharp teeth and carrying what appears to be a pile of drippy black goop in his claws. He hands the Almost Dragonic Brand Extra-Messy Clotted Mudpie™ to Gwaihir as a Cabaret welcoming gift, ignoring the verdant elf's timid objections as the messy substance drips all over his hands and clothes. Wyvern examines the half-elven documents that Gwaihir has set around the Cabaret tables, then nods in an excited manner and begins flapping his wings back and forth in spite of himself. "Oooo, sssounds exciting. Y'know one o' my troglyodyte newsss crew told me 'bout this piece of newsss, and I sorta got to scribbling myself." Wyvern lifts his tail stinger and plucks a crumpled sheet of paper from it, smudging it with whatever Clotted Mudpie remains on his claws. "After all, if the Phoenix Martian'sss really are coming, I figure I need a proper Pen greeting for'em!" Gwaihir frowns slightly and hesitates, then sighs to himself and stares down at Wyvern's sheet. "Tweaking" the Phoenix Martian (With Almost Dragonic Brand Products) by Wyvern Q. Almostdragon For Phoenix Martian Lander to be awesome Phoenix Martian Lander should hop on board. Abandon all that red-brown Martian nothing! Almost Dragonic Brand Martian Lander Phoenix Warb™! Our new-made Martian Warb's fixed in Phoenix glitter, only flamable when newbie matches' chose. But fear not, for here to quell your jitters: Almost Dragonic Brand Martian Lander Dousing Hose™! If A.D.B.M.L.D™’s a little tiring, what with the booze feed and all that other gloop, you can always consider the other option -- Almost Dragonic Brand Martian Soup™! "Ssssimilarities to '"Tweeting" With the Phoenix Martian' by Kathryn Jacobs are purely coincidental." Wyvern clears his throat, then examines Gwaihir's face, trying to read his blank expression. "Sssssso... ya think the Martian'll buy it?" ;-) OOC: Nice news indeed Gwaihir, sounds exciting. I really like her "Palm Trees" poem.

I like this poem a lot, Norman. :-) One of my favorite parts about this piece is how you connect the concept of writing so closely to emotions and physical reactions, which is done really well in the second stanza with lines like "My blood will not flow, no ink can I spill./ The words of my soul's quill" and the excellent image of the words being like "scratches upon my eyes/ To blind me, and hide reality's vision." The imagery and themes of that stanza were very strong and stood out to me, and you do a good job of stringing that same type of connection throughout the poem with good spacing and phrasing. Things get a little sloppy around the end of the third stanza, I think, and you should consider revisiting the last two lines of that stanza in particular as I had somewhat of a difficult time making sense of them. Anyway, thanks for sharing this here Norman. :-) I'm glad that, despite the statements of this poem, you have a bit of writing in you yet!

The thick ruby red curtains that cover the camera lenses are pulled back, revealing a wide and spacious room with a variety of eccentric artifacts and furniture surrounding the broad open area of its center. The chamber gives off a certain mythical comfort in its curving red wall patterns and brightly lit candles, and the cameras pan over an abstract portrait of coiling dragons and a tall dragonic knight statue before reaching Wyvern. The reptilian reporter grins as he stares down at a wide floor mattress that could easily seat an aged geld dragon, marveling at the dragonic scale patterns of the pillow casing. He hisses to a news troglyodyte carrying a notepad and a quill, who proceeds to scribble Wyvern’s thoughts down hastily. “Oh, and that serpentine dragon vasssse over there, ask her if there’re any Almost Dragonic Brand productsss she’d like to trade it in for. Ditto for that dragon scale scratcher hanging in the back. And thisss hoarding space, I need to know if it’s up for rent.” Wyvern pauses and turns as he spots the news cameras. He lifts a claw to one of his horns. “Ah, greetingsss, and welcome to this week’sss Almost Report. Join usss as we search through dragonqueen’s quarters, which are probably about as dragonic as this Almost Report’ll ever get. Impresssive considering that thisss queen is human, not to mention a ssstarving artist of sortsss.” Wyvern moves towards the spacious center of the room as his news troglyodyte assistant continues scribbling words at an alarming rate. The cameras follow Wyvern’s tail as it swooshes over the “Designated Hoarding Zone” tag neatly etched in the fine wooden floor. The cameraas then move upwards, following Wyvern’s beady stare to get a full visual of the giant red dragon mural depicted on the ceiling. “We need the name of that artissst, plus we need to dig up an Almost Dragonic Brand product worthy of trading for that sssilver dragon insignia hanging over that wardrobe over there.” Wyvern licks his lips as he pulls a crumpled sheet of news items from his back pocket, then takes a moment to glance at it before hissing. “Ssspeaking of which, the Almost Report would like to take a moment to send a belated happy birthday to Vincent Silver. Long idle, but not forgotten.” Wyvern glances down at the “Designated Hoarding Zone” tag again and blinks, barely resisting the urge to drop the Report right then and there in order to start counting his geld. He lets out a hiss that borders on a sigh and moves over to a miniature wine rack that rests in the corner of the room, moving his claw down the bottoms of the bottles until he pulls one out at random. He rolls his tongue out and raises the bottle to the light as he wonders if dragonqueen will miss it, only to zip his tongue back into his mouth as he notices that the vintage is listed as “Noble Knight Blood.” Wyvern goes a little green as he sets the bottle back in its proper position, praying that the wine is there for display purposes only. “*Ahem* The Almost Report would alssso like to send its best belated B-day wishes to Almost Intern alum Whisky in Babylon… what I wouldn’t give for sssome real alcohol right about now.” Wyvern steps past the troglyodyte with the notepad (who is still scribbling furiously) and wanders up to an unlit fireplace, which is mounted with dragon teeth to appear like the flaming maw of a greater dragon. “A belated birthday wish also goes out to Matteo, who celebrated recently. Here’s hopin’ all you absentee Pen peeps had good ones and are holdin’ up well.” Wyvern clears his throat loudly and turns away from the cameras for a moment, his “absentee” remark reminding him all too much of the Report’s CheerMynx situation and evoking more fears of generous job offers pulling the cheerline away from the Report. The troglyodyte with the notepad documents Wyvern’s sniffles on his sheet until the reptilian reporter manages to straighten his wings and stick his snout up to maintain his pride. Wyvern pulls a sheet of paper with a child-like doodles of himself and the words “Misssss U CheerMynxxx!!!” scrawled on it in crayon, then hands it to his troglyodyte assistant. “Deliver thisss to CheerMynx’sss bedroom HQ would ya?” Wyvern waves a claw at the cameras to shoo them away from the sight of the picture, clearing his throat loudly as the troglyodyte continues to scribble things. “Oh, and find a trade essstimate for that mounted dragon tail replica over there. And thossse horn amulets over there, I wonder if she’d be willing to trade them for an Almost Dragonic Brand Almost Plastic Dragon Jewel Tiara.™ Oooo, and what’sss in here?” Wyvern steps up to a large wooden closet with dragonic symbols etched onto its doors, and traces down them with his claws before opening the doors and sticking his snout in curiously. The overgrown gulps at the large feminine wardrobe displayed within and begins shifting through the hanging dresses one at a time, pausing ever so often as an outfit bordering on “dragonic cavern harem” catches his beady eye. “Urrrmmm, maybe an essstimate on some of these sssmaller items as well…”

"I have had quite enough of this immature behavior." Jacobson's eyes narrow as he re-adjusts the crown helm on his hair and brushes some stray wallpaper from his regal garments. "Between your lightning traps, illusionary walls, and whirlwind manifestations, it seems obvious to me that your Keep refuses to cooperate with our search. Very well." Jacobson steps through the Summer banquet disaster zone, effortlessly avoiding the various dishes strewn across the floor as he moves towards Grimmael. The dominions that follow him are not as agile, however, and crush the items underfoot, reducing them to inedible dust. "Here is the warrant for Wyvern's arrest." Jacobson hands the document to Grimmael, who struggles to grasp it from his position hanging from a Conservatory chandelier. "Until you agree to turn him in and comply to our request, the Mighty Pen will be blacklisted in the Akashan Library's list of dishonorable institutions and will be denied all access to our services and archives. I advise you to act upon this warrant soon and turn Wyvern in, as a continuous refusal to abide by our laws will certainly result in more drastic measures. A good day to you, sir." With that, Jacobson Avalontenium turns with a flutter of his cape and exits the quarters of the Pen Keep, his dominion escorts treading closely behind him...

Very nice picture you paint here, Sora. :-) I really like the detailed imagery of the flight, particularly near the beginning of the take off where the thrill of flying is really relayed through the images and tone. I also thought that the ending was cute and easy to relate to... who hasn't dreamt of flying at some point in their lives, after all? I wouldn't accuse yourself of having vague dreams though... it may simply be that you don't remember all the vivid details when you awaken. ^_- Anyway, nicely done, thanks for sharing this lil piece here.

An out-of-tune accordian begins grinding in the background as the news cameras fall on the aged portrait of a pennite wearing a pair of fancy French slacks and carrying what appears to be a rusty pole of some sort. The sound of curtains being pulled back reveals that the pole is in fact a long baggette as sunlight washes over the dim candlelight of the quarters, brightening the dark red wallpaper and Parisian floor tiling of the chamber. The cameras move past a dusty lute and several figurines of famous French pennites before arriving at an elegantly designed metal balcony, where a small coffee table and two chairs have been arranged. The cameras focus on Wyvern, who leans back in one of the seats and spreads his wings, showing off his black and white plaid collared shirt while trying to hide his non-matching Hawaiin tourist pants. The reptilian reporter adjusts the squirrel fur scarf wrapped around one of his horns, then flicks at a sand crab still clinging to his scales from last week’s Report and hisses: “Greetingsss, and welcome to the Almost Report.” Wyvern sticks his snout up in a haughty manner and spreads his scaly arms as the cameras pan to the left, revealing a generous view of the Pen Courtyards with the Tower of Elders standing in the distance like a Pen variation of the Eiffel Tower. “After the colossssal failure of last week’s Almost Dragonic Brand Wyvageldamillionair Island Luxury Resort Tickets,™ we figured it’d be a good idea to try a different ssstyle of vacation locale. And what better place to experience foreign comforts than at Arlequin’s long-abandoned Pen quarters – the closest you’ll get to France at the Pen without actually visssiting Celes Crusador’s Café. Only 300 geld for a day on thisss glorious hotel-type balcony, courtesy of Almost Dragonic Brand Wyvageldamillionair French Connection Luxury Resort Tickets.™ Almost Interns ssstill get in for free, of course.” Wyvern grins and nods to the cameras, then adjusts the thin mustache taped to the front of his snout and turns as a troglyodyte dressed in a waiter’s outfit steps out onto the balcony. The troglyodyte raises the bottle of wine that he’s carrying so that the cameras can see the “Chateau du Bruteweiser Lite” label, then pops the cork/cap and pours Wyvern a goblet of the beverage. The overgrown lizard promptly ignores the goblet and grabs the bottle, downing the booze before you can say “rituals begone.” He smacks his lips and turns back in the direction of the cameras. “In cassse you’re wondering why we’re breaking out this year’sss fine Chateau du Bruteweiser Lite, it’sss because we’re celebrating Kikuyu and Degorram’s recent promotionssss!” Wyvern letsss out a long cheerful hiss and takes another swig from the “wine” bottle. “Congratulationssss you two, you dessserve it for savin the Pen from that necro creep not to mention all the other things you do for us on a regular basisss. I would’ve broken out an older vintage of Bruteweiser for the occasion, but the stuff tends to lose its fizz after about 2 days in a wine bottle and doesn’t age that well, sssso…” Wyvern takes another long swig from the bottle, then tilts it to make sure that it’s empty and signals to the troglyodyte waiter. A webbed hand reaches from off-screen and sets another Chateau du Bruteweiser Lite bottle on the table, which Wyvern promptly uncorks with his tail stinger. “Of courssse, some thingsss do get better with age, and the Almost Report would like to pop another bottle in honor of Regel’s recent birthday. Here’sss hoping that yesterday’sss celebration was in good spirits and that yer doing great, Reg. I’ll sssend you some Chateau du Bruteweiser Lite when I get a chance, if there’sss any of it left after this Report.” Wyvern raises the bottle to Regel’s health and guzzles it for a moment, then licks his lips. “Happy belateds alssso go out to Arawn and Akallabeth, who should be getting some complimentary booze as well. Hope you all had great ones!” Wyvern sets the bottle down on the table for a moment and hiccups, hissing and staring out over the Pen Courtyards. He lets out a belch of flames that soars upwards into the sky like morning fireworks, then turns and signals to the troglyodyte waiter with a semi-circular claw motion meaning “curly onion cheese doodles.” The troglyodyte nods in an annoyed manner and wanders off of the balcony as Wyvern kicks back and relaxes. “In other Pen newsss, the Muse and Quill Café’s long-standing First Line Poetry Challenge has recently become active again for all you activity-oriented poetsss out there.” Wyvern taps his claws on the table top as he tries to think up some French way to start a poem, muttering a number of R-rated foreign phrases under his breath before he continues. “Bonusss points if you manage to ssssneak in an ad for Almost Dragonic Brand Wyvageldamillionair French Connection Luxury Resort Tickets™… I’ll even reduce the price of yer ticket by 50 geld if you sssqueeze it in there.” Wyvern flashes a toothy grin at the cameras, only to twist his snout as the troglyodyte waiter returns carrying a box with a toxic skull and crossbones on it. The troglyodyte sets the box on the table, then bows to Wyvern and places a clothing pin on his nose before wandering back off-camera. Wyvern frowns and pokes at the box once or twice before sniffing at it, at which point he chokes and scoots his chair backwards. He sticks his tongue out and twists his snout in disgust. “Ugh… I forget that the curly onion cheessse doodles around here are made using French cheessses.” Wyvern scowls and moves back towards the table, quickly shoving the box to the side and swatting it off the table with one of his wings. He grumbles and fiddles with his thin mustache as his stomach rumbles a bit, then brightens up and begins practicing traditional French greetings on one of his claws to prep himself for CheerMynx’s arrival...

Wyvern whistles to himself and tosses a bottle of Almost Dragonic Brand Shape Cementing Face Cream™ back and forth in his claws as he steps into the Cabaret Room. The overgrown lizard strikes a wide grin at the thought of marketing the beauty product to Degorram, and hisses potential product slogans under his breath as he glances around the chamber in search of the shapeshifter. "'Becausssse sssometimes, one face is more than enough'? No no, too dramatic. 'Smooth on all faces, sssticky on one'?" Wyvern pauses as he notices how deserted the Cabaret Room is, and ceases playing with the Cementing Cream bottle as menacing music begins cuing up in the background. The reptilian Elder's beady eyes dart left and right. "Uhhh... hello? Is anybody...?" Wyvern jumps and lets out a girlish shriek as he suddenly notices the life-sized Degorram portrait, mistaking it for the real thing and scrambling backwards. He wastes no time and darts behind a Cabaret pillar, abandoning his entire product marketing campaign with a jerk of his tail. Not that Degorram's angered expression would have made a nice thing to cement anyhow... ;-) OOC: Nice pic, Kikuyu. Thanks for sharing.

Nice poem Anigmal/Arashi, welcome back to the Pen. :-) I like the tone of bitter hopelessness that you set throughout this piece, and the way that the second person of the poem is always addressed in a condescending manner. The spider and glass ceiling metaphors worked nicely in it as well, and I particularly liked the image of the broken glass from the ceiling leaving the second person "bloody and falling." I think that the metaphors of the poem work at their best when they aren't described in a metaphorical manner, as somehow the reference to the shattered glass as a "piercing rain of reality" felt more blunt to me and wasn't as strong as some of the other metaphors in the piece. Also, while the spider metaphor is cool, I had some difficulty envisioning the expressions on the spider's face without the image of a cartoon spider flashing in my mind... perhaps there might be another way to convey the spider's malice without the use of facial expressions? Anyway, thanks for sharing this poem here Anigmal. :-) I'm glad you still remembered about the Pen after all these years, it's always nice to see you writing here.