Wyvern

Snickering to himself evily, Wyvern silently waits in the dark corner he'd been crouching in located directly above the Pen gathering room and takes a long sip from his Endless Decanter. He had decided to see how long he could wait hidden before the Elders started getting frustrated that he hadn't shown up, at which point he'd surprise them by appearing at that very moment... Feeling a bit cramped, Wyvern decides to silently move a quarter of an inch from his current position. Big mistake... The unsturdy roofing on which he crawls breaks and comes undone underneath him, and the overgrown lizard lets out a cry as he falls to the chamber below him. He lands directly on the tray of a waitress that had been about to serve two active customers coffee... "Excuse me waitress..." mumbles Ozymandias looking at the tray "... but we are not paying for that Wyvern." ------------------------------ Almost a Dragon... "My life is one big crime, I try to scheme through it." -Common, "The 6th Sense" Owner of the Decanter of Endless Booze.

Porcelain stirs in her applicant seat worried That perhaps her application to the Pen had been hurried The overgrown lizard had yet to show up Although then again, he was always corrupt... What was taking the damn Elder so long? Had he started a new scheme, found a new thong? Was he chocolate mud wrestling, or downing some booze? Or perhaps he was at a bar, charming some flooze... Was he greedy? Was he poor? Was he happy? Was he sore? Was he needy? Was he sure? Was he crappy? Say no more! For into the door barges Wyvern and more! No sooner has Wyvern come into the room Then Melba begins acting up with her broom She takes it and raises it high above her head Shouting at Wyvern "You'll wish you were dead!" The overgrown lizard, though, is prepared This has happened before, he's not unaware Melba had always shown concern for the applicants And when Wyvern was late, she always threw crap at him So this time, rather then getting hit over the head Wyvern decides to dodge Melba, and sidesteps instead Melba misses Wyv's head and... oh my gad zooks! It hits an official behind Wyv in a suite! The man is knocked out and Melba's mouth drops open She had never realized that her swing was so potent Now that Wyv's business is out cold on the floor The lizard decides to make a rush for the door Before he goes out though, he notices Porcelain And immediatly ends up changing his course again... Running up to the applicant, Wyv wips out a sheet He stamps it ACCEPTED and then turns to flee By this time, however, the suited man has recovered And is reaching into his tux for the knife of his brother So Wyv quickly bows to Porcelain and jumps Out of the fourth story Pen window... And lands with a 'thump!' ... Ugh... ;p OOC: Definatly an ACCEPTED application to the Pen Porcelain, welcome! I enjoyed both your poem and the beginning of your story immensely, and have always enjoyed your works from the Archmage UBBs. Two technicalities you should do before you're fully accepted, however: 1) As Peredhil said, please make a global or a local EZboard account. A link to creating one can be found in the Pen's list of usefull links. 2) Please either post your e-mail here or send a mail to me at elitwack90@hotmail.com, so that I can send you the passwords and stuff. Thanks, and once again, welcome! Edited by: Wyvern00 at: 3/1/02 9:20:50 pm

Ringmaster taps his foot on the ground impatiently, checking the grandfather clock in the far corner of the office and grumbling curses silently underneath his breath. He had been standing in the center of the applicant office for the last 4 days, and hadn't had a wink of sleep for the past 96 hours. The poor applicant had decided to stay up in fear that if he were to doze off, Wyvern would come and go from his office while he slept... Letting out a deep sigh, Ringmaster begins serving himself yet another cup of expresso and pauses for a moment as he suddely hears singing coming from down the central hall of the Pen and approaching the office... "Hi ho! Hi ho! Responding to apps is slow Since it's unfair, we've come prepared Hi ho! Hi ho, hi ho, hi ho..." Suddenly, the Seven Elder Dwarves of the Pen (replacement recruiters that ressembled the various Elders of the guild) come barging into the entrance of the office and begin merrily dancing in circles around the confused and now rather annoyed applicant. The dwarves then each greet Melba with a special 'hi ho!' before getting down to business and going over Ringmaster's story application... "Ah!" exclaims the first dwarf, Greedy "This Elenyende person appears to be the influential type... definatly a potential geld magnet!" "Well, I think that the elves of the story act with an unbearable grouchiness before they finally accept Innoruuk as their Lord and savior" grumbles Grouchy "So you have my vote..." "Can't you see?!! It's obvious!!!" cries the third dwarf, Wacky, from his current position hanging from the ceiling "Those fools in the story think that they have a God, when in reality, they're all Gods and are being worshiped by Innoruuk!!!" "The Tier'Dal in this story have a level of sleaziness rarely captured in any story..." hisses Sleazy contently "Plus, the pale skin was another nice sleazy touch..." "There are very few shiny objects..." mutters the dwarf Shiny glumly "... although the illumination of the skeletons eyes hint towards promising shininess in the future." "This is undoubtedly one of the best posts I've ever read..." manages Sexy while wiping a tear of joy from his eyes "It has been a long while since I read a post that featured so many beautifull naked women!" Finally, the seventh dwarf, Courteousy, speaks up and politely says "My response remains the same as always... it would simply be rude not to accept it." After discussing the various points for several hours, the Seven Elder Dwarves come to a concensus and stamp Ringmaster's application ACCEPTED. They then hand the sheet back to him and begin marching joyfully out of the room, once again singing as they do so... OOC: Great beginning of a story, Ringmaster. An ACCEPTED application, welcome to the Pen! Please post your e-mail address here or send me an e-mail at elitwack90@hotmail.com so that I can send you the passwords. Edited by: Wyvern00 at: 3/1/02 6:39:08 pm

Andrea, As Celes Crusader said, thanks for the apology. You haven't gotten the Pen members angry at all, it's just that it's kind of awkward to see posts of that nature when the Pen is a community built around the respect we share for one another as writers and friends. Note that even if you decide to quit these boards, your membership will be by no means revoked. You can feel free to come back at any time, and we'll gladly welcome you with open arms. [image]http://members.shaw.ca/kea/am/wyvy.jpg[/image] ------------------------------ Almost a Dragon... "My life is one big crime, I try to scheme through it." -Common, "The 6th Sense" Owner of the Decanter of Endless Booze.

Noticing Dragonjojo hesitating and figdeting nervously in his applicant chair, Melba calmly walks up to him and hands him a card. "Here you are..." she chimes "... sorry to keep you waiting, there are times when I just can't stand that lizard of an recruiter. Wyvern will be with you shortly. You're applicant number is 13." "I-" starts Dragonjojo nervously, staring at the '13' that was scrawled in jagged blood red letters on his card. "I'm applicant n-number th-th-thirt..." Dragonjojo reaches once again for the lucky objects within his bag, but is interrupted as a group of construction workers suddenly make their way into the chamber and begin setting their tools around his seat. Turning to Melba, one of the repair workers calls: "Hey, Ms. Almost Secretary! We're here to do the repair work on the shelves that were knocked over in the Mr. Bunny incident the other day! Can we go ahead and start?" "Sure..." murmers Melba while shuffling through countless red stamped taxation forms. "Go right on ahead..." Much to Dragonjojo's horror, the construction team set up a ladder directly over his head and begin working on rearranging the various items at the top of the new bookshelf. To make matters worse, the construction team accidentaly knock over a mirror which falls and shatters directly by Dragonjojo's feet. The aggitated applicant swallows hard and goes for a four leaf clover in his endless bag of stuff when a black cat (Cele's cat, Cambronne) passes right by his seat. Dragonjojo watches in terror as the four leaf clover he had retrieved wilts before his very eyes... After Cambronne has passed him, the cat turns his head and hisses maliciously at Dragonjojo. His eyes grow wider as the cat raises the hair on it's back, extends it's claws, and franticaly dashes out of the room. At that moment, Wyvern enters the room wearing a rain coat and holding an umbrella. Dragonjojo's jaw drops open as Wyvern opens the umbrella inside the room and in the process accidentaly tosses rain water into jojo's face... And all this time, Dragonjojo had been forgetting to knock on wood! By this point, Dragonjojo is so freaked out by the random chain of events they he decides to hurredly pack his bags and leave. He is stopped by Wyvern, however, who stamps his application ACCEPTED and welcomes him to the Pen. Well... thinks Dragonjojo, grinning to himself and exitting the room with his accepted app Maybe all of this 'bad luck' stuff is really a bunch of nonsense after all... With that, Dragonjojo shuts the door on his way out, and it causes a chain reaction of bookshelves falling over, mantlepieces collapsing, and delicate sculptures shattering... OOC: An ACCEPTED application, Dragonjojo, welcome to the Pen! Please provide your e-mail here or mail me at elitwack90@hotmail.com so that I can send you the passes and such. [image]http://members.shaw.ca/kea/am/wyvy.jpg[/image] ------------------------------ Almost a Dragon... "My life is one big crime, I try to scheme through it." -Common, "The 6th Sense" Owner of the Decanter of Endless Booze. Edited by: Wyvern00 at: 2/25/02 5:45:00 pm

Back at the Pen's Great Council... "Aren't the Elders going to valiently send out a search party to rescue Brute, as any caring council certainly would...?" continues Cheye calmly, tapping a foot on the ground and raising an eyebrow innocently. "Oh..." starts Wyvern, looking towards the other Elders nervously and suddenly recalling that he had sent Brute one of those trick "illusionary high" cantrips that sold for fairly little geld and supposedly lasting for several million eons... "Well... errrr... that is to say... Of course! Just after formal business is taken care of..." At the mentioning of 'formal business', a beautifull mural double door located at the far end of the room is opened and a tall, muscular man in shades and a dark suite steps out. The menacing figure clears his throat in order to get the attention of the room, discards a burnt out cigarette that is loosely dangling from the corner of his mouth, and mumbles hoarsely: "Don Jechumlioni will see you now... Gwaihir, the don has requested that you be the one that delivers the merchandise this time. He wants to make sure that you are loyal to the family, being the newest Elder and such. Don't forget to show him your respect..." Gwaihir nods, adjusting his suite and tie and combing his hair back. He then turns to Wyvern. "Wyvern, the feather please." Wyv quickly nods and hands Gwaihir the supposed 'precious feather'. The overgrown lizard then turns to leave the room, exclaiming: "Sorry guys! I wish I could stay to see how the meeting goes, but I have an urgent matter that I need to attend to..." Passing Cheye on his way out of the room, Wyvern pauses for a moment and whispers in her ear: "Cheye, sweetheart, I would suggest getting out of the room as fast as you can... before people start busting each others heads open..." Wyv's eyes flash a silent gleam of triumph, and he grins broadly as he rushes out of the chamber, slamming the exit door behind him... None of the other Elders seem to take notice of the overgrown lizard's maniacal laughter as it echos down the stairwell adjacent to the room. Paying no attention to Wyvern's hasty exit, Gwaihir adjusts his collar one final time before being escorted into the beautifull double mural door entrance to the don's chamber. After he has entered, the doors are quietly shut behind him, and the room is engulfed in darkness save the flickering glow of a few solitary candles. Gwaihir takes a deep breath of the musty air of the mini-chamber, which reeks of aged wine and permachetta linguini. He then clutches onto the feather tightly, gathers all his courage, and heads over to the Don's desk... No sooner has Gwai taken three steps forward then Don Jechumlioni turns in his swively chair to face him. The dramatic strings from the film 'The Godfather' suddenly come up in the background, and Jechumlioni stomps one of his feet on the ground and growls: "Damn it you guys! I told you never to play that tune again! It's great the first time, but it quickly wears off!" The strings immediatly stop and several mumbles are heard in the background. Gwaihir raises an eyebrow as an entire string quintet moves out from the darkness behind Jechumlioni and head towards the exit of the chamber, cursing something about not being paid enough... "Greetings Gwaihir, please, sit..." mutters Jechumlioni, leaning back in his chair and stroking a hand thoughtfully over his chin. "I'll have one of the most trusted members of the family, my lawyer and advisor Peredhil, explain you the situation." Having said this, a half elf dressed in a formal business outfit clears his throat politely and says: "It seems that in our various disputes with the opposing 'Legion' mob family, a precious feather was lost that acted as a symbol of respect. The feather, which belonged to young guildmaster, needs to be secured back in our possesion. Otherwise, the Legion mob would surely find it, and it would represent the downfall of our family..." "The feather please..." mutters Jechumlioni grinning and motioning with a hand. Gwaihir passes Jec the feather, and his mouth drops open when he finds that it is not actually a dominion feather he holds, but a simple pigeon feather! Rather then acting shocked, Jechumlioni frowns and sighs as if having expected this... It definatly did NOT help his migranes. He quickly makes a call on his cellular phone, already knowing Wyvern is responsible (who else would think of stealing it, after all?) and ordering the overgrown lizard's immediate capture... Wyvern runs down to the ground floor, grinning and knawing on one of the chicken bones leftover from breakfast, unaware of the white limo now parked outside the keep and the two people waiting at the front smoking white roses...

(Conversion Confusion, this is actually the sixth post in this thread) Muzukashi desu! Nihongo no testo wa Totemo iya-ne Though it doesn't follow the same syllable structure in English, the poem roughly translates to: It is difficult! The Japanese test is Very annoying [image]http://members.shaw.ca/kea/am/wyvy.jpg[/image] ------------------------------ Almost a Dragon... "My life is one big crime, I try to scheme through it." -Common, "The 6th Sense" Owner of the Decanter of Endless Booze.

Grinning over the beginning of the story he wrote and confident that he'll be accepted, the Big Pointy One steps into Wyvern's office, smiling and waving his application sheet proudly in the air. No sooner has he layed one foot into the office, however, then his mouth drops open in a confusing stunned manner. The chamber was a safe haven of illegal Mr. Bunny merchandise. Big Pointy One's eyes grow wider and wider as he looks from one end of the room to the other... On the walls, several bootleg pictures and paintings of Mr. Bunny had been hung. There was a picture of Mr. Bunny in a G.I Joe uniform (with shades on and holding a semi-automatic as well) a painting of a mock Mona Lisa Mr. Bunny, a sketch of a kung fu type Mr. Bunny, and even a photo entitled 'Mr. Playboy Bunny'. On the shelves were stacked several volumes of illegal books: "How to be a Devoted Bootleg Mr. Bunny Fan", "Mr. Bunny, the Secrets of the Rabbit Behind the Fur", "Mr. Bunny meets Bunicula: A Murder Mystery", "How to Cook with Mr. Bunny: 1001 things to do with those Left Over Carrots" only to name a few. In the far corner of the room, Melba (Wyvern's almost secretary) is dusting off a bootleg dancing Mr. Bunny sculpture with her 'Mr. Bunny sweeper' while munching on a Mr. Bunny snackbar... BPO suddenly realizes he's standing on a Mr. Bunny Fur welcome mat, and let's out a little cry, jumping off... Needless to say, Stick is outraged by the illegal set-up. Noticing that the Elder of Initiates hasn't returned to his office as of yet, BPO rushes to a Mr. Bunny phone that's sitting on Wyvern's desk, picks up the carrot-shaped reciever, and dials his lawyers number on buttons that appear to be representing Mr. Bunny's nipples... Wyvern stretches and yawns as he walks with Jechum towards his office, getting ready to make another intiate acceptance. Upon reaching his door, he stops as he notices that inside his office sits Stick, a tall man in a blue suite with a briefcase, and an angry looking bunny. Rather then accompanying Wyvern as he had planned to, Jechum decides to keep walking down the hall past Wyv's office. "See no evil, hear no evil, speak no evil..." Jechum mutters to himself as he walks on... "What is the meaning of this?!!" cries BPO, pointing at Wyv's office. "You've got some explaining to do!!!" Both the tall man in the suite and the bunny on the table nod. The man in the blue suite then stands up, points to the bunny on the table, clears his throat and says: "My client, Mr. Bunny, is very displeased with the state of this office. He has asked that we sue..." Wyvern stares at the tall man in the suite, then at the bunny on the table, and suddenly a grin spreads over his face. "You mean that's Mr. Bunny?" Wyvern asks delightedly, walking up to the table top on which Mr. Bunny sits and leaning down to admire the rabbit "Awwwww... look'et'em... he's so sweet..." Suddenly, Mr. Bunny's eyes flair red and the rabbit jumps out at Wyvern and savagely bites his nose, maintaining a firm grip with his teeth. Wyv cries out in pain and begins flailing around the room, trying to rid himself of Mr. Bunny's toothy bite. He trips backwards and goes crashing into a bookcase, which proceeds to knock over several bookcases in a domino effect. Melba stops her cleaning and laughs at Wyvern's misfortunes... until the final bookshelf collapses on her. "O.K! O.K!!!" cries Wyvern, begging for Mr. Bunny's mercy "I'll tell you what, I'll accept your friend BPO's application if you can just let this one offense slide! That sound good to you?" Mr. Bunny pauses his viscious attacks and turns to the Big Pointy One, who appears to be smiling and nodding eagerly. The rabbit lets go of his grip on Wyv's nose and nods, bouncing back over to his table position. The overgrown lizard stamps BPO's application 'ACCEPTED'... OOC: An excellent beginning to your story BPO, it had me totally entranced. I especially liked the way you set the scene and kept the action going... can't wait to see the continuation. An ACCEPTED application, welcome to the Pen. Please send me an e-mail to elitwack90@hotmail.com or post your e-mail here so I can send you passes and such. [image]http://members.shaw.ca/kea/am/wyvy.jpg[/image] ------------------------------ Almost a Dragon... "My life is one big crime, I try to scheme through it." -Common, "The 6th Sense" Owner of the Decanter of Endless Booze. Edited by: Wyvern00 at: 2/23/02 8:13:57 pm

On a first read through the poem, the reader will immediatly take note of the antithesis between images of love and hatred. There are several of these throughout the poem, a few of the most notable being "words of love" in comparison to "cursing God above" and "person of strife" in comparison to "joy of my life". Another cluster of images deals with different rights that the narrator has as a person. This can be seen when he contemplates the hatefull words of his once beloved, and states that they are "Trying to take away my right to facilitate". Another place where rights can be seen is at the end of the poem, where the narrator notes that "That is another thing you have destroyed with your right to hate.". Thus, it is important to note that both the narrator and his previous loved one have rights as a person, as all people should... The tone of the poem, which is told in the first person, is generaly one of anger and dismay. However, through closer inspection, one may note a small sign of regret at the last line of the poem. The narrator states "My soul once spoke to yours on an even peaceful level/That is another thing you have destroyed with your right to hate." Here, the narrator is looking back at the times when he and his loved one were peacefull and happy, and taking note of how hatred destroyed it. The ultimate theme of the poem, in my humble opinion, is that hatred can only bring about more hatred. Voicing one's disgust and loathing towards another previously loved accomplishes nothing, and can only lead to hurt feelings and a create a certain sense of betrayal. Note that while the narrator is venting his anger to his formerly beloved in this poem, there are no winners here. Both the narrator and his previous love have succumbed to hatred. Good poem. I look forward to reading more of your stuff, Cheye. [image]http://members.shaw.ca/kea/am/wyvy.jpg[/image] ------------------------------ Almost a Dragon... "My life is one big crime, I try to scheme through it." -Common, "The 6th Sense" Owner of the Decanter of Endless Booze. Edited by: Wyvern00 at: 2/23/02 5:57:29 pm

Well... This is not really as good as our first archived freestyle, but never the less... This is a freestyle that occured a few nights ago... The beginning has been left out, since we were interrupted quite a bit and thus couldn't really get with the flow. Also left out from here is a freestyle battle with Kinslayer, once again due to several interruptions as well as some bad language courteousy of Kin. ;p If your curious to what the battle was like, never the less, here's a little excerpt: if you read my songs, i dont ryme ever, so ryme isnt quite my game, which is a bloody shame, for if it was id have more fame.. Yeah, it's too bad everyone disrespects yer name ;p lol hey, not my fault ive got game And may I add, yer rhymings lame its ok, peredhil is to blame So your getting down with BP? Ugh. That's insane I'd suggest you find a woman before it ruins your brain ;p hey, i saw a pick of your mom naked, talk about PAIN You're style is the wackest out there, go home and train Anyway, you get the basic gist... ;p This archiving is from shortly after the Kin/Wyvmettic freestyle battle had ended: Very well, so you wanna kick conscious styles? I'm up for it, no worries, I'll chill for a while It's just that when I get worked up about battling, I defile The wack rapper trying to test my profile LOL * KinRun points out just in this you can realize every reason he dislikes rap Zool47> what? i dont think its POSSIBLE for you to rap without trying to a) pretend your a hard mofo who never could be hurt or insult everyone and everything this is cool! Fine then, conscious and clean Always kickin dope verses, never gettin obsceme Lets talk about the government, or perhaps life as a whole I'll still prove I'm the better rapper, the rhymes already sold Just tell me what you wanna rap about, and I'll kick a verse That'll take you back and unwind the works Of your brain, sane, I ain't going profane Now gimme a subject, and maybe I'll let you sing the refrain * KinRun shrugs * Wyvmettic waits for his subject, and invites Dope to join him as well go on as you will, i wont outrap you, ill just outwrite you I thought you were going to give me a conscious subject, and now you dissin? I think you'll just outKin us hit and run! You make me want to change back to battle mode transmission tsk tsk. kins on the run, hes scared of ryming words, he wins lots of gum, n thinks this whole thing is obsured, when he writes songs they just dont make sense, im writing this is future, present, and past tense. now the wyvmettic, has a sleeve fetish, thats right hes obsessed weaved reddish, shirt sleeves n yes ur gonna need a medic, when im through with these to, tell me what u gonna do, u cant roll wit the dope, i make u all lo lol wish the filed was big ehough - that was it! So the choice is yours Kin, choose and decide... You want a conscious style or another battle rhyme? i make the rule in which u have 2 abide by Cus Dope spits verses of perfection personified n i dont know y u are acting all shy, be a man or a guy dont run home n cry Dope won't let you out of his grip, tough guy You try and face him, you already lost... He eats wack M.Cs for a snack, and never gets lost ThE|DoPe> we're in the ring n u get tossed to the other side Cus Wyvmettic and the Dope, we naturally slide Into the inner modes of your consciousness The inner eye That's why we'll always be dissin wise guys And if you step to us, we'll leave you Kentucky fried Like that special colonial Sanders recipe dont mess with me, im the best u see i'm the anonomys mic weilding dope M.C And when me and the Dope team up... don't even go there We'll smack your wap D.J, mess with your prissy hair And leave you so bare you wish you never sweared That you would win on the mic when Dope n Wyv are there Alright, let's kick a conscious rhyme Give us a subject Zool Can be anything hmm... something broad... time? Time? Cool O.K, lessee here... It seems that there are lots of people nowadays fessin About not having time on their hands, and added agression Of the ghetto, that which has been indeliberatly formed by the hand Of some wealthy millionaire 6 thousand dollar man Who doesn't give a damn if the kids get hurt Just so long as he's cruising wearing a fancy shirt Over time, seclusion formed the ghetto arose, violence was born And yet noone seems to want to prevent it It's like it's just natural though it was really invented By power crazed professionals who don't have a clue They wallow in dough while minorities suffer and do Chores like murder, theft, and robbery Just because there's no other way, it bothers me Seriously man, we gotta grab father time by the beard And tell him to go back, make the ghettos dissapear Because in time, when it;s all said and done It's seems the only people winning are those stacking millions While poor folk in the ghetto don't stand a chance And societies corruption just sits back and laughs It comes in many forms, whether it be police or jury That's why peeps be fleeing from crime scenes in a hurry They know if they locked up, it's going to be till the end of time They only have one means of expression: rhyme Which is why I gotta kick these lines for the streets And hope father time has mercy on my peeps Peace! thats rite, ya heard there goes another word, to ur mother, o brother speakin of her, tell her i said hi, n shes a great costomer, im bustin err..tyte rhymes, now i change in topic, im on the mic all the time so please baleeve i wont drop it, please stop it, cuz once i start i keep goin, n knowin the dope, he always puts on a show n he doesnt even think about what hes gonna say i comes natural, its just the way i play, he ----------------------- [image]http://members.shaw.ca/kea/am/wyvy.jpg[/image] ------------------------------ Almost a Dragon... "My life is one big crime, I try to scheme through it." -Common, "The 6th Sense" Owner of the Decanter of Endless Booze. Edited by: Wyvern00 at: 2/22/02 3:16:41 pm

That is certainly enough for an application, if you're statisfied with what you've written. Give me a bit of time to respond... I'll probably be able to get to it tommorow... [image]http://members.shaw.ca/kea/am/wyvy.jpg[/image] ------------------------------ Almost a Dragon... "My life is one big crime, I try to scheme through it." -Common, "The 6th Sense" Owner of the Decanter of Endless Booze.

Some day, I'm going to become rich... But right now, I'll just casually work in this ditch Some how, I'm going to become famous... Although at the moment most consider me nameless Sometimes, I imagine myself at the top of the Alps... I'm sure I'll get there, though I tend to slack off and slouch Someone will eventually notice my talent... So I don't need to work hard or keep any balance Somebody's going to naturally fall for my charm... So I'm not going to fuss about love or raise an alarm So many hopes forgotten, so many wishes spent Because somewhere on this road of dreams My life just came and went. [image]http://members.shaw.ca/kea/am/wyvy.jpg[/image] ------------------------------ Almost a Dragon... "My life is one big crime, I try to scheme through it." -Common, "The 6th Sense" Owner of the Decanter of Endless Booze. Edited by: Wyvern00 at: 2/19/02 9:01:39 am

An enormous scream arises from the audience as the crowds of party-goers decide to make backing themselves up against the walls opposite of the terrifying plant an essential priority. Wyvern stutters and jitters in his disco suite while reading Valdar's note, and is shoved to the side by a horrified Himfemme and jostled by a crazed Archmage that seems to be desperatly trying to remember the incantation to his light spell. Nyyark gawps at the rather morbid turn in events, but has little time to react as he is run over by a screaming mob of party people, including Orklan, Timeshift, and what would appear to be several shady men dressed as crows... From the mass of confusion in the audience, a party goer weilding an electric guitar and wearing a Led Zeppelin shirt jumps directly in front of the enormous waterlily and raises his guitar high in the air. Practicaly foaming at the mouth, he screams: "You ate Page!!! Die, punk!!!" With that, the Zeppelin fan rushes at the enormous plant... and is promptly swatted to the side by an enormous tenticle... Noticing that it apparently hadn't made the best first impression on the audience, the waterlily plant attempts to be a bit more sociable... It extends a huge tenticle and grabs a lady in the audience, pulls her screaming form forward, and proceeds to plant pollen all over her horrified visage. Apparently, this isn't very popular with the audience either, and they begin chucking household objects at it... "Not that!!!" cries Nyyark, noticing Cioden lifting a priceless ming vase and hurdling it at the waterlily. Nyyark doesn't even have time to scream as a tenticle blocks the projectile in mid flight and shatters it's beautifull frame into a million pieces... Taking note of the chaos of the situation, Wyvern decides that it's his responsibility as Patron of Parties to bring the chaos of the party to order... Wait, scratch that... To bring the state of chaos of the party to an even more chaotic state, and host some mud wrestling while he was at it! Yes... that sounded better... Quickly tearing off a piece of Himfemme's outfit and using it as a makeshift bandanna, Wyvern wips out his Endless Decanter, uncorks it with his teeth, and rushes at the waterlily 'Rambo' style. He dodges flailing tenticles, kitchen utensils, and a particularly drunk looking giraffe... Finally, Wyv manages to reach his destination: the very base of the waterlily. Without the slightest hesitation, the Saint of Parties rapidly wips out a gardening can and some fertilizer. The crowd watches in awe as Wyv fills the gardening can with booze from the Decanter, and proceeds to water the gigantic plant. After having performed this procedure a numerous times, the waterlily begins feeling a wee bit... unsober... Suddenly, the crowd gapes in amazement as the waterlily lifts it's tenticles in the air and begins spraying different colored pollens all over the room, which act as a makeshift confetti. The crowds cheer as this occurs, and suddenly the electricity goes back on and the music starts back up again. Wyvern gasps as he lies at the base of the plant, catching his breath and grinning that his plan had succeeded. Now... to get to that mud wrestling competition...

Tzimfemme & Rydia Well, if it works for the Celery that Stalks at Midnight, it'll work for Undeniably Asparagus. . . (Rydia whaps Wyvern with the spear of asparagus, thinks for a moment, realizes that Wyvern's already been corrupted to the cause, and whaps the Poetry moderators with it as well.) I want a vegetable that goes BOOM when I thwack people with it. The Asparagus just sort of whiffles and raises dust-clouds!

At Nyyark's Page Party held in Nythtyrdal, a very strange crowd was gathering indeed... The irritated host Nyyark paces the room nervously, watching the various "festivities" that were currently taking place throughout the many rooms of his keep. Orklan was downing an entire bowl of punch in a single disgusting go while at the same time stuffing himself with several bags of chips (digesting the plastic containers along with the food inside them). Himfemme was doing something that probably was supposed to ressemble a table dance of some sort, but didn't have the appropriate body motions to look convincing. The Parasole, who was rather unaccustomed to parties, was desperatly trying to perform the Macerenna and in the process was knocking just about everybody on the dance floor out of his way to do so... Nyyark grits his teeth and wipes the sweat from his brow, looking towards the dance floor, then to Cioden juggeling knives, and then finally at a random person vomitting into the Pen's Community Chest. Things were getting rather out of hand... Then, suddenly... a ray of hope! A beam of light, cutting through the churning depths of darkness circulating the party! The doors to Nyyark's keep are flung open by 20 men dressed in top hats, white suites, and black tap dancing shoes. The men tap dance into the keep, doing cartwheels and backflips while dragging in a long red carpet. Several trumpets are go off from all sides of the building, and all of those partying stop and stare as a little, run down 64' Chevy pulls up in front of the keep. Out of the Chevy steps none other then Wyvern, the Patron Saint of Parties, wearing a horrible looking glittery 70's disco outfit and poorly chosen set of shades. The overgrown lizard grins and steps out of the little vehicle onto the red carpet, pausing and throwing a finger up into the air in an unfashionable John Travolta-like manner for the cameras... "Why did he come in that pathetic little vehicle rather then a limo...?" whispers Himfemme to Orklan, his/her eyebrows raising at the site of Wyvern's uncannily poor pose. "Come on Himfemme...!" belches Orklan while ferociously chewing on a piece of lint "You know how he is with geld! The entrance services are already paid for since he's the Saint of Parties, but the cloths and transportation aren't!" Wyvern grins broadly and takes two more steps towards the entrance of the party, pausing only to do yet another Jonny Bravo-esque pose. The flashes of several cameras going off can be seen once again... Finally, Wyvern reaches the entrance and is about to walk in when one of the guards (now recovered from his sleep) stops him at the door. "Greetings Mr. Wyvern..." the guard says happily "As I recall, you aren't a page?" "Damn straight I ain't!" exclaims Wyvern, already beginning to dance even before having entered the party "I'm an Elder and a Saint! I'm a truly important figure! Muahahahaha!" "The price for non-pages is 1 geld." Wyvern suddenly stops dancing and his grin fades to a frown. He quickly takes out the party invitation he had found and reads it back over, finding the small print about non-pages... '1 GELD?!!! That's ridiculously high!!! Of course, if I would have set up the party, the prices would be far higher... but that's no excuse!!!" "I'm sorry Mr. Wyvern..." says the guard frowning "the rules are the rules..." "Hmph!" grunts a dismayed Wyvern, turning and heading back to his Chevy. Much to Nyyark's sorrow, the tap dancing men in white suites pack back up the red carpet and head out the door along with him. The trumpets outside play the depressing, low key tune of "Taps" as they exit... Nyyark proceeds to bang his head on the wall for charging non-pages to come... Two hours later... Much to the surprise of the security of the party, a long black limo pulls up in front of Nythtrydal. The guards jaws drop open as out of the limo walks none other then Jimmy Page, the famous guitar player, along with Wyvern wearing the same corny disco outfit. The two of them walk up to the front doors... "G-greetings!" manages one of the guards ecstaticly, quickly whipping out an autograph book "I'd love to accept you for free, but the price is one geld..." "Not so..." says Jimmy Page while strumming his guitar "I am a Page. Jimmy Page." One guard looks to another guard, then they both smile and nod, agreeing to let him in. The guards then turn to the Saint of Parties and ask: "Mr. Wyvern sir... I thought you were disgruntled by the prices before? Are you willing to pay the full one geld price?" "No!" exclaims Wyv grinning "But you're forgetting something! Since I give titles to Initiates of the Pen, that makes me the Title Page!" The guards consider this for a moment, and then grin and agree to let Wyvern in as well... On his way in, Wyvern hands the guards several index pages as a tip... "Hey Jimmy..." murmers Wyv "Lets go see if we can turn this party ON!" "Hold on Wyv..." says Jimmy, feeling a rumbling in his pocket "I'm being paged..."

Indeed, thank you all for the encouragements... We'll be sure to archive more stuff in the future. -Wyvmettic

Falcon2001 Yay! *Starts dancing wildly around* I got put in a blennnndeeeerrr! I got put in a blennnndeeeerrr! Woo-hoo! What you ought to do is stick one of mine or Shadowflowers together with something light-hearted and fluffy. Mmmmmmmm....fluffy.

Cerulean Cerulean takes aggressive hold of her Sacred Stalk of Celery and punctuates each blow to Wyvern's head, with a chastisement. "You would THWACK take my lovely, tender BASH precious work for MrGoat, and you would SLAP stick it in a BOOM blender?" *Snigger* "Cool!" I laughed so hard, I almost snorted fizzy water down my nose. You had to pay for that! LOL Any more in the pipeline? It's great to see a lightening of mood on this board. Well done.

Gwaihir me tries to think of imperatives that aren't trite Eh, nevermind that, but this is truly neat!

Lord of the Gay Wyrven =) you got wayyyyy too much time in your hands... but its' creative.. definately refreshing and hilarious =)

Wyvern Recipe #3: The 'Dancing Vamp' Deluxe Ingredients: 1 "Dance with me" by Cerulean 1 "Vampire" by Falcon2001 1 "I Like Spam" by irongolem 1 Cup Lemonade 1 Half Cup Tequilla 1 Little Pink Umbrella Directions: Take an empty glass and squeeze the contents of the poem "Vampire" into it. Mix in the half cup tequilla and cup of lemonade. Put "Dance with Me" and "I Like Spam" into the blender and pour the result into the mix. Add little pink umbrella for effect. Serve at room temperature. Comment: Be carefull who you dance with after having a few of these... The result: "Dance with a Vampiric Spammer" by ceruleangolem2001 If I could call you to my side clad in black, Encircle you in spam with my cruel computer - Would you hunt the idiot Archmage? And would you wonder how the bulletin boards hurt all the while? Though they aren't at home; still the pale people play. The night breeze helps the fallen through high school, The gentle dale spills spam into the leaves at the end of the day. Or would you hurt? Fearing the angry words of a fool that slammed you out. Did this percussion form our evil favorite thing When we forgot what posting was about? Or did you simply find another board? Leaving me to spam alone.

Gyrfalcon *Gyrfalcon laughs* This is really good, keep it up Wyvern. =)

Wyvern Wyvern strokes his moustache and lets out a deep, hardy laugh. Recipe #2: 'Dark Angel Cereal' Charmer Ingredients: 1 "The Dark Angel's Flight" by Black 1 "Cereal killer" by Lord of the Gay 1 Half Cup Milk 1 Quarter Cup Gin 1 Little Pink Umbrella Directions: Take a glass and pour the half cup of milk in. Throw in the poems "The Dark Angel's Flight" and "Cereal Killer", and then pour in the gin. Watch and wait as the two poems dissolve into the liquid. Shake it well, then put it in the fridge for a few minutes to cool. Add little pink umbrella for effect. Comment: For an extra kick, try serving this with your Lucky Charms rather then normal milk. YAHOOZA! The result: "The Dark Angel's Cereal" by Lord of the Black Once upon a time There was a killer with the wings of an angel He committed a crime to do his job right He killed a cereal touched with death's call, It needed to be cured This little peice of grain Black as the dead and the dying themselves The killer caused all his pain He was only an evil soul from hell Of hopes and coals of angels in a furnace Nature's loving blade flies through the sky, Death's call screams in torture The 'Angel of Death' begins to fall So, he lived for many dead lives in Hell It made him think and have a good brain That is when all his fears of the dead and dying Started to cause all his pain. Search for more submissions by heaven, which bids ado.

Canid "But of course you may make my poems into art more obscure than words! Sign here, here and here please...." Canid hands Wyvern a lengthy contract of use consisting entirely of fine print. She grins her famous wolfy grin in a slightly evil way... Edited by: Wyvern00 at: 2/17/02 11:42:51 am

Wyvern And now... A handy-dandy book of recipes for poetry cocktails. Just sit back, relax, and let me wip you up a delicious treat. My recipes offer only the best in flavor... (unfortunatly, the prices are not as superb... ) Having said this, Wyvern wips on a bartender outfit and phony moustache. He takes out a blender, which he procedes to set to 'Stir, Shake, Squeeze, and Generaly Liquify'. One cocktail, coming right up! Recipe #1: The 'Singing in a Bad Mood' Splash. Ingredients: 1 "Singing in Spanish" by Canid 1 "Bad Mood" by Gwaihir 2 Quarter Cups of Scotch 1 Quarter Cup of Brandy 1 Little Pink Umbrella Directions: Take a tall empty glass and mix one quarter cup of brandy with one quarter cup of scotch. Stir well. Then, place "Singing in Spanish" and "Bad Mood" into the blender and make sure that they mix well. Add the product of the two poems into the tall glass. Now, throw in the second quarter cup scotch. Stir well. Add little pink umbrella for effect. Serve cocktail warm. Comment: After having drunk a few of these babies, you'll be singing in a bad mood alright... The result: "Singing in a Bad Mood" by Cwainid It doesn’t matter that you do not know the language, You may not get to understand the words. You may have spirit, and your spirit's with the Spanish. So it is that I'll sing that you’ve just screwed up so much, You’ve lost them too, and the lyrics seem to slide along the way. Oh, go ahead and pinch the melody so naturally off my tongue, But hope’s the only dream you'll ever sing in Spanish. More to come... OOC: A note to authors of the poems I use. I don't mean to be offensive in any way... I hope you take my parodies in good humor. Edited by: Wyvern00 at: 2/17/02 11:38:20 am