Wyvern

The main Cabaret doors slam open as Wyvern barges into the room with a gang of papers clutched between his claws. The overgrown lizard screeches to a halt as he approaches reverie, hunching over to catch his breath and dribbling little spots of ash onto the recently cleaned carpet. He turns towards reverie and grins once he's caught his breath. "Congratulationssss reverie." Wyvern winks and strikes a 'claws up' in reverie's direction. He begins untying the red bandana that keeps the gang of papers grouped together as he speaks. "Since it's quite an accomplishment, I wanted to make sure to congratulate you correctly by writing up a few poems in your honor." Wyvern glances over the crowd of well-wishers, then rubs a scaly claw on his chest with pride. "Jussst to let everyone know, these poems were crafted with the aid of the alternative writer's block: Almost Dragonic Brand Ogre Alphabet Ouija Boards™! As I'm sure you'll see, this little product is capable of turning even a wyvern such as myself into a rather accomplished poet. That's 250 geld a piece, or five for 1250 geld." Wyvern disciplines himself into a more serious demeanor, then lifts the first sheet of paper to his snout. "Thisss first poem is a haiku that I wrote in honor of reverie, entitled 'HGU.' I hope you enjoy it." With that, Wyvern clears his throat and begins hissing: --- "HGU" by Wyvern Q. Almostdragon UGH GUH GUHGUH UGH GUHGUHGUH [rev] GUH UGH UGH UGH GUH GUH, UGH GUH --- "Thank you." Wyvern bows his head to the horrified crowd. The enchanter poets in the audience quickly begin searching through their spellbooks in the hopes of finding a simple version of "Silence" for the occasion. They pause, however, as Wyvern lifts the next sheet of paper towards his snout. Several pennites gasp in horror and begin to step back. "This nexxxt poem is a sonnet honoring reverie, which is called 'UGH GUH HGUHGU, GUHGUH UGH HGU GHU.' I hope you find it meaningful." --- "UGH GUH HGUHGU, GUHGUH UGH HGU GHU" by Wyvern Q. Almostdragon UGH GUH GUH UGHUGH GUH GUHGUH UGH UGH UGH GUH UGH GUHGUH GUH UGH UGH GUH GUH UGH GUHGUH UGHUGH GUH GUH UGH UGH UGH UGH UGH GUH UGHUGH GUHGUH GUH UGH GUH! GUH UGHUGH GUH UGHUGH UGH GUHGUH HGU UGH GUHGUH UGH GUHGUH GUH UGHUGH GHU UGH GUHGUH GUH GUH GHU UGHGUH GUH HGU UGH UGHUGH UGH GUH UGH GUHGUH UGH GHU! GUHGUH UGH GUHGUH UGH GUHUGH GUH [rev] UGH UGH GUH UGHUGH GUH GUHGUHGUH UHG UGHUGH GUH UGH GUHGUH UGH GUH UGH [rev] GUH UGH GUHGUH UGH GUHGUH GUH GUH UHG! UGH GHUGHUGHU UGH GHUGHUGHU GUH nGH UGH GUHGUHGUH GUH UGHUGHGHU GUH nGH! --- "Thank you, thank you." Wyvern raises a brow as he notices several pennites seething on the ground, moaning for earplugs. He coughs a bit, then raises another sheet of paper to his snout, causing many people in the crowd to turn and flee. "Lassst but not least, here's an epic possstmodern free verse poem I wrote for reverie. Thisss gem is called 'GUHUGHGHUUHG UGH, GHU UGHUGH GUHHGUHGU GHU? GHU UGHGHUGHU... UGHUGH GUH,' and I consssider it the crowning achievement of the bunch. Hope you like it." The pennites seething on the ground begin crawling as fast as they can towards the exit. --- "GUHUGHGHUUHG UGH, GHU UGHUGH GUHHGUHGU GHU? GHU UGHGHUGHU... UGHUGH GUH" by Wyvern Q. Almostdragon HGU UGHGHU UGHGHU GHU GHU GHU! GUHGUH, GUH. UHG UHG, UGH GUH UGH GUH HGUGHUGHU GUH UGHGHU, GUH, UGHGHU GUH GUH GUH UGHUGHUGH, GUH. UGHGHUUHG. GUH UGH GUH UGH UGH GUHGUHGUH UGHGHUUGHHGU HGU HGUHGU, GUH UHG GUHGUH UGH GUH GUHHGU HGU UGH GHU. GUH UGH GHU GHUGHU HGU GUH GHU UGH UGH HGU UGH UGHUGHGUH GUH GUHGUH UGH GHU UHG. GUH UGH UGH GUHGUHGUH UGHGHUUGHHGU HGU HGUHGU GUH UGH UGH GUHGUHGUH UGHGHUUGHHGU HGU HGUHGU GUH UGH UGH GUHGUHGUH UGHGHUUGHHGU HGU HGUHGU. GHU UGHUGH GHU GHU! GHU! GHU GHU UGH GUHGUH UHG UGHUGH UGH GHU? GHU GHU GHU HGU GUH UGH UGH GUH UGH UGH GHU HGU HGU UGH GHU GHU, GUHGUH UGH GHU HGU HGUHGU UGHGUH GHU UGH GUHGUH UGH GUH [rev] UGHGHUUGHHGU UGHGHUUGHHGU UGHGHUUGHHGU. UGH GHU GHUGHU HGU GUH GHU UGH UGH HGU UGH UGHUGHGUH GUH GUHGUH UGH GHU UHG. GUH UGH UGH GUHGUHGUH UGHGHUUGHHGU HGU HGUHGU GHU UGHUGH GHU UGHUGHUGH GHUGHU UGHUGHGUHGUHHGUUGHGHUUHG UGH GHU. GHUUGH! GHUUGH GUH! UGHUGH GHU HGU GHU HGU GHU, UGH UGH GUH UGH GUHGUH UGH HGU UGH UGHUGHGUH GUH GUHGUH UGH GHU UHG. HGU UGHUGH GHU UGH GUHUGH GHUUGHGHUUGHUGHUGHGUH UGH GUHGUH UGH UGH UGHUGH, UGH GUH UGH UGH GUHGUHGUH UGHGHUUGHHGU HGU HGUHGU UGH GUH UGH UGH GUHUGHGUH UGHGHUUGHHGU HGU HGUHGU. HGUUGH GUHHGU HGUUGH UGH GUH GUH, UGH, GUH, HGU, GUH, UGHUGHGHUUGH. GUH, HGU GUH UGH UHG, GUH, UGH, HGU, GUHGUH UGH GHUGHU UGHGUH UGHHGU. UGH GUHGUHGUHGUHGUHGUHGUHGUHGUHGUHGUHGUHGUH GUHGUHGUHGUHGUHGUHGUHGUHGUHGUHGUHGUHGUH GUHGUHGUHGUHGUHGUHGUHGUHGUHGUHGUHGUHGUH UGHGUHGUHGUHUGH UGH, GUHGUH UGHGHU. UGHUGH! GUH, GHU HGU GHU HGU UGH GUHGUHGUHGUHGUHGUHGUHGUHGUHGUHGUHGUHGUHGUHGUHGUHGUHGUHGUHGUHGUHGUH HGU, HGU. UGH. GUH, GUH HGU UGH GUHGHU. GUHUHG. GUH UGH GHU GHUGHU HGU GUH GHU UGH UGH HGU UGH UGHUGHGUH GUH GUHGUH UGH GHU UHG. GUH UGH UGH GUHGUHGUH UGHGHUUGHHGU HGU HGUHGU GUH UGH UGH GUHGUHGUH UGHGHUUGHHGU HGU HGUHGU GUH UGH UGH GUHGUHGUH UGHGHUUGHHGU HGU HGUHGU. GHU UGHUGH GHU GHU. GHU, HGU GUH GHUUGHGHUHGUHGUHGU UGH GHU UGH GUH GUH GUH UGHUGHUHG UGHGHUUGHHGU HGU HGUHGU GUH UGH UGH GUHGUHGUH UGHGHUUGHHGU HGU HGUHGU GUH UGH UGH GUHGUHGUH UGHGHUUGHHGU HGU HGUHGU GHUUGHUGH GHUGHU. GHU, HGU GUH GHUUGHGHUHGUHGUHGU UGH GHU UGH GUH GUH GUH UGHUGHUHG UGHUGH GHU HGU GHU HGU GHU, UGH UGH GUH UGH GUHGUH UGH HGU UGH UGHUGHGUH GUH GUHGUH UGH GHU UHG. HGU UGHUGH GHU UGH GUHUGH GHUUGHGHUUGHUGHUGHGUH UGH GUHGUH UGH UGH HGUUGHGHUUGH UGHUGHGHUGHUGHUGHUHGU! UGH, HGU GHUUGHUGH GHUGHU. GHU, HGU GUH GHUUGHGHUHGUHGUHGU UGH GHU UGH GUH GUH GUH UGHUGHUHG UGHUGH GHU HGU GHU HGU GHU GHUUGHUGH GHUGHU. GHU, HGU GUH GHUUGHGHUHGUHGUHGU UGH GHU UGH GUH GUH GUH UGHUGHUHG UGHUGH GHU HGU GHU HGU GHU GUH HGU. GUH. UGH, GUH HGU UGH GUHGHU. GUHUHG. UGHUGHGUHGUHHGUUGHGHUUHG UGHGUHUGHGUHUGHGUHUGHGUHUGHGUHUGHGUH UGHGUHUGHGUHUGHGUHUGHGUHUGHGUH UGH GUH, UGHHGU. HGUUGH GUH UGHHGU, UGHGUH. GUH GUH, UGH GUH UGH GUH GUH. nGH. nGH. GUH nGH. --- "Thanksss all." Wyvern lifts his snout from the sheet, only to find that reverie is the only one still left in the Cabaret Room. He wanders up to the Dreamlost poet, frowning at his pale and trembling state and patting him on the shoulder. "Once again, congratulationsss rev... If you find the time, I'd love to hear some of your critical thoughtsss on these poems, as you always seem to find something constructive to say." Wyvern glances down at the red bandana on the Cabaret floor, then looks both ways and whispers to reverie: "Though I wouldn't critique them too much... I hear this gang of papers is known for distributing paper cutsss." ;-p OOC: On a more serious note: congratulations, reverie.

Wyvern slithers into the Cabaret Room with an Almost Dragonic Brand Ogre Alphabet Ouija Board™ in one claw and a half-finished sheet of its poetry byproduct in the other. "Lessee... would the proper grammar for this stanza be 'GUH rev,' or 'rev HGU'? Anyone?" Wyvern pauses at the center of the Cabaret Room and perks his head up at the sight of Justin Silverblade. The overgrown lizard grins from horn to horn and rubs his eyes to make sure he isn't seeing things, then prances towards the long-lost Pen scholar and extends a claw. "Jussssstin!" Wyvern grabs Mr. Silverblade's hand and shakes it firmly. "Great to see 'round these parts again. How's tricks? I wouldn't worry about your lil' Weenie award by the way, our policy on those has changed for the better over the course of your absence." "Oh?" Justin smirks as Wyvern finally stops shaking his hand. "How so?" "Well, it'sss now pronounced 'Wyveenie,' and automatically implies that you're part of my lowly underlings program. Congratulationsss!" Wyvern reaches into his sack and pulls out a Mickey-mouse style horn hat and a faded cardboard "Underling #257" nametag. He hands Justin the paraphernalia, then digs into his sack again until he finds a rusted sowing machine and a small piece of string. "For your first task, you are to sow me a golden bathrobe using this Almost Dragonic Brand Scorpion Needle Sowing Striker™ and this single piece of plain thread. No 'Summon Rumpelstiltskin' spells allowed. You have exactly fifteen hours, or rather fourteen hours and fifty minutes since this conversation has been counting towards the time limit. Now get a move on... it's great to have you back. I expect resssults!" ;-p

Zool breathes a sigh of relief as Yui's tactful kiss narrowly prevents Wyvern from scratching up the lower geld half of his portrait. The overgrown lizard melts a little at Yui's touch as she covers his snout, but promptly straightens up in the hopes of keeping his almost dragonic machismo in tact. It only takes him a moment of staring at her smile to go soft in the eyes, however, and the flood of Cabaret well-wishes cause his tough front to collapse like an Almost Dragonic Brand Indestructible Wood Wall™. Wyvern flashes a very non-smarmy smile and gives Yui-chan a big scaly hug, then pats Regel on the shoulder and leans back on Zool's portrait as he turns to address the crowd. "Thankssss all." Wyvern places a claw behind his back and attempts to scribble 'W' insignias on the geld in the portrait behind him. "As always, I'm humbled by your words." OOC: Thanks, everyone. :-) I had a nice day, and reading over your posts here was one of its highlights. I really appreciate you thinking of me and posting... thank you, once again.

"Dahn danant naaaaAAAAN, Dunununt!" Clear channels across the Pen fizzle in and out of focus until the image of Wyvern sitting at his pirate broadcasting table seizes the various screens. Wyvern stops picking at his snout as the cameras turn in his direction, and wipes the ash on a parrot bobblehead set up next to his sparse-looking pile of reports. The head of the parrot squacks *Buy Almost Dragonic, Buy Almost Dragonic* as it bobbles back and forth. "Greetingsss, and welcome to another Almost Report." Wyvern flexes his claws and stares towards the cameras. "In this evening'sss headlines: cute pennite gals everywhere have seemed to succumb to a recent epidemic known as "Almostdragonophobia," symptoms of which include extreme shyness when it comes to interning on Almost Dragonic talk showsss. Since the current resssponse amounts to one brave soul ssstill potentially interested (but unavailable at the moment), and one rather outlandish set of photographs of Mardrax with feminine ponytails, I'm afraid that the show mussst currently go on without internship. Alassss... perhapsss one day you sexy ladies will wake up and smell the curly onion cheese doodles." Wyvern sighs and pulls a sheet of paper from his tabletop. A box showing a lizardman newsreporter standing in the center of a battlefield appears in the righthand corner of the screen. "Meanwhile, the war of Pen politics continues to rage on in the Minssstrel Hall." Wyvern hisses and tosses the current report to the side. "Since the sssubject tends to leave me tongue-tied, here's Trog Underlinguistic with a report from the frontlines. Trog?" The lizardman featured in the live action newsfootage box adjusts his Almost Dragonic Brand Origami Combat Helmet.™ Trog raises a khaki microphone and speaks into it with a distinctly English accent. "Thank you, Lord Wyvern. I am standing here on the threshold of the Mighty Pen Rank Review Vote, where an eerie silence signals a ceasefire between harsh exchanges of words. Along the threads perimeters, concerned voters pray for closure amidst the debris, longing for deadlines or results. Other pennites, wounded or scarred from the debacles, flee in search of solace, under the impression that they are no longer wanted or needed, wallowing in their own self-pity. To what end shall justice be served? Through what means sha-" "Boooorrrrrriiiiinnnnnnggggg!" Wyvern snaps a claw, and the box in the upper righthand corner goes black. "Remind me to get a new sub-reporter without an English accent, that sssubject's boring enough to listen to as it is." Wyvern pulls a final sheet of paper from beside the parrot bobblehead, deliberatly knocking its head back and forth a couple of times in the process. "To finish this evening'sss reporting *Buy Almost Dragonic, Buy Almost Dragonic*, I just wanted to remind my fellow pennitesss *Buy Almost Dragonic, Buy Almost Dragonic* to mail me any news items they might want mentioned on these Monday night hissy fits. Just remember *Buy Almost Dragonic, Buy Almost Dragonic* to include a large geld donation with your request unless you want your news item publically mocked, asss we tend to do on this little program. Include some info on a good-looking intern that fits my requirements, and I might even sssponsor your news item on the show two nights straight. What can I say, I'm lonely lil' liza-" Static.

I like this story so far, Unimatrix. :-) The way it starts out seemingly innocent and down-to-earth and then quickly turns into something more racey and suspenseful is very well done. The dialogue between Crosby and the foreign emissary is witty and informative, and reminded me of some of the finer moments of James Bond. My favorite part of this post is when Crosby first pulls out his Walther P22, as it caught me off-guard and kept me guessing as to what he was going to use it for. The setting of the story is very nice as well, though I would have liked to have seen a bit more of a reaction from Mr. Rollins upon seeing Crosby with a gun... nothing elaborate, just a facial expression or exclamation that shows how he feels upon learning his website designer's true identity. I'm looking forward to seeing where this story takes Crosby next. Nicely done, Unimatrix. Welcome to the Pen. :-)

"Nonsssense!" Wyvern dashes into the Cabaret Room with a claw posed dramatically in the air, holding what appears to be a small wooden block with writing on it. The overgrown lizard screeches to an unstable halt between Whisky in Babylon and Mynx, then lowers the square box and points towards it with his other claw. "Fight Writer's Block with a different kinda writer's block." Wyvern winks and dusts off the top of the block-like box, revealing an all-too-familiar product name. "Almost Dragonic Brand Ogre Alphabet Ouija Boards™ - now stamped with the Akashan Library Seal of Illiteracy! This little product provides a GUHreat jump-off point for inssspiration, an UGHressive way to get yourself writing again, and a GHUide book for oHGUre vocabulary. Plus, if you string fifty of'em together, you've got a short story of sortsss right there! You could even submit it to a goblin trade house, I'm sure they'd publish it (last I checked, they ssstill don't read). But don't take my word for it... see what Lady LilacFlame had to say about this product." Wyvern grins and pulls a glowing crystal ball from his tunic. The crowds of creative mourners gather around the ball as it begins replaying a scene from LilacFlame's acceptance in the Recruiter's Office. LilacFlame smiles as she speaks: "Wyvern, I promise to heed what you asked [Cue Wyvern Overbud] and purchase the Almost Dragonic Brand Ogre Alphabet Ouija Board™ today [/End Wyvern Overdub]." Wyvern waves a claw over the crystal ball, pausing it for a moment. "But isss it reliable, you ask?" Wyvern snickers to himself, tapping on the crystal ball. "Lady LilacFlame?" The image of LilacFlame springs back to life, speaking from a few seconds earlier in the scene. "Thanks again Lord Wyvern, you will not be disappointed, I vow." ;-p

I think this is a really nice poem, Merelas. :-) It definitely has a very romantic feel to it, as well as a connection to the beauty of nature that's similar to some of Tanuchan's poetry. The long lines and uses of repetition made this stand out as unique to me, as did the very particular romantic tone. I really feel like the poem is unified under one voice and perspective, which is an admirable feat since maintaining a unique voice throughout a poem can be a very difficult thing to do. The intertwining of faith and constellations in the poem is also intriguing to me, and I like the image of the snow obscuring the stars. A few minor suggestions for possible means of improving this piece... While I think your phrasing is nice for the most part, I wasn't as big a fan of some of the uses of adverbs in this piece. For example, I don't think that "nightly" adds anything to the final line of the third stanza, as you're already stating "each and every eve." The use of "chaotically" in the second stanza also sounds a bit awkward to me, and you might consider rephrasing it in a way that eliminates the adverb while maintaining the description. Another thing that feels a bit awkward to me is the incorporation of "O" throughout the poem... if it's a medieval feel that your aiming for then I suppose it works well, but it feels kind of distant from the personal element that runs through the rest of the piece. Also, while I love how you end the poem with the disappointment of the clouds covering the constellations, the phrasing of the last line made it feel a bit like an afterthought to me rather than a realization, and you might consider rephrasing it. Anyway, very nice stuff Merelas. :-) Thanks for sharing it.

"Pssssssssssssst" The gamer discussion circle turns for a moment as a figure dressed in a baggy overcoat approaches their Cabaret table. A set of horns holds a wide grey hat at an awkward angle on the almost dragonic figure's head, and the scaly red tail that drags along on the ground behind the figure dispels any doubt of who it might be. The "stranger" lifts two half-gloved claws and pats Merelas and Geldrinhor on their shoulders. "Ssssorry, I overheard you talking 'bout cutting edge gaming and thought you might be interesssted in some cutting edge product, with cutting edge casing and no edge cut medical insurance plan." Wyvern lowers a claw to his trenchcoat and opens one of its flaps, revealing a rubber duck, a dirty magazine, and an unlabeled video cassette. "Sssee that cassette tape? Mark my wordsss, that's the future of pop gaming right there... Katzaniel is the next prophet of the gaming biz, as I'm sure you all know, and I'm almost positive that she has her eye on thisss little piece of material." Mira squints and stares closer at the video cassette, trying to make out any sort of writing on it. "What... is it?" "It'sss a video recording of my brilliant interpretation of the Dreamer's 'Havoc' tale, as seen on the infamous public nuisance show 'The Almost Report'." Wyvern grins and rubs a claw on his chest with pride. "I imagine that the video game translation of the segment would be entitled 'Almost Dragonic Dream Havoc-a-thon.' It'd be distributed through Almost Dragonic Inc.'s video game spin-off branch: the Almost Dragonic Brand Computer Virus Ranch™. The game would be a third person shooter/dance-dance clone/ecchi date sim/guitar player (cuz' everybody's doing it)/and hack and slash game (especially when it comes to the customer's computer). It would also be the firssst game ever to be referred to as an MMORSG - a Massive Meticulous Outrageous Rediculous Spam Generator. It'd probably be released on the upcoming Tigertaur system, which I'm pretty sure Katzaniel has somewhere in the works (note: Tigertaur is in NO WAY affiliated to Jaguar... jussst wanted to throw that out there as to not scare off customers)." Wyvern slumps his shoulders a bit as the gamer circle lets out a collective groan over his gaming descriptions. "Awww, c'mooonnnnn guys." Wyvern pulls out the cassette and twists it in his claws. "Did I mention that the bonus features for beating the game would include a nearly nude photograph of me that you can dress in any way you want? You know I look good..." ;-)

This is a nice intro to your story, LilacFlame. :-) I didn't find the paragraphs too short, and thought that they gave the read a very nice pace. The premise certainly has a lot of potential, though it's hard for me to get a sense of whether or not I'd be able to sympathize with the character without seeing her in action and getting a sense of her personality. I didn't read through the paragraphs with a fine comb, but there weren't any grammatical monstrosities that jumped out at me on a first read. While I'm uncertain of how large a role this introduction plays in the story as a whole, I think that it relies a lot on telling at the moment, which can run the risk of making the reader feel uninvolved in the potentially exciting elements of the story. In terms of potential improvements, you might consider drawing the reader closer to Arial's life by showing details through scene rather than telling them directly. For example, instead of explaining Arial's longing to be a Mage to the reader, you could show it to the reader through a scene where we see Arial's longing to be a Mage and discontent with her life of nobility. Like I said, I'm not sure if this introduction was meant as more of a backstory preluding the actual tale, but showing the details through scene is definitely a possibility you should keep in mind for the story to come, if nothing else. :-) I hope this helps, thanks for sharing this piece here.

LilacFlame sighs and stares at her fingernails as she continues to wait for the Elder of Initiates, trying her best to ignore the messy wasteland of discarded paperwork that clogs the Office's furniture and floors. It was far from clean, and further still from glistening... in fact, there were so many shabby spots that there was hardly any room to stretch one's legs. LilacFlame sighs to herself and watches Lord Panther as he paws one of the many crumpled pieces of paper and begins chasing it around the room, smirking at him for still being a kitten at heart. She stretches her arms and moves her hands through her white-blond hair, wondering if the Recruiter will accomodate for the lack of space with some extra wimple. As if on cue, the sound of the Office window slamming open causes LilacFlame to turn. Lord Panther jumps as Wyvern tumbles into the Office with an oblong box clutched between his claws. The overgrown lizard hisses a loud string of curses as he struggles his way out of a pit of discarded tax forms, then sets his box down and waves to LilacFlame. "Greetingsss, LilacFlame. Welcome!" Wyvern steps forward to greet the new applicant, then pauses and turns back for a second to pick up his box. LilacFlame squints at the words scrawled over the box's wooden lid as Wyvern wades towards her through the paperwork. "Almost Dragonic Brand Ogre Alphabet Ouija Boards™...?" "The one and only!" Wyvern winks and shoves the box into LilacFlame's hands as a "welcome" gesture. "Go ahead and try'er out for a couple of words, I'm gonna read over your sheet anyhow." LilacFlame watches Wyvern pluck her application piece from a rather chaotic-looking pile of discarded blueprints, then glances at the box in her arms with a curious blink. She waits until Wyvern has started reading her poem, then carefully pulls off the lid... only to stare at a board of three letters placed in large triangular grids. The only letters represented are U, G, and H. "You'll end up ssspelling all sorts of neat things with it." Wyvern folds LilacFlame's application piece and grins in her direction. "'UGH,' 'GUH,' 'HGU (hug),' you name it! And if you turn it upsidedown, you can even pass off the 'U' as a lowercase 'N,' allowing for such great words as, errr... 'nGH.' Yours for only 50 geld (plus tax), for a limited time only." LilacFlame stares blankly at Wyvern and shifts the box through her hands, wondering if the lizard might be at least half-joking. Once she decides that he isn't, she sets down the box and stares at him expectantly, crossing her arms over her chest. "What? Oh, thisss?" Wyvern waves LilacFlame's application sheet in the air. "Good stuff, there're some really nice marketing strategiesss listed in here. I put large red check marks next to the first, second, third and sixth demands, though how you plan on keeping the level of respect and cleansliness up when there's booze, broads, and beserkers in the same room is beyond me!" Wyvern snorts and grabs his Acceptance stamp from a nearby pile of stamp receits, promptly stamping LilacFlame's application ACCEPTED. The reptilian Elder then hands the sheet back to LilacFlame, only to cling to it when she tries to pull it from his claws. "Did you know that if you purchase multiple Almost Dragonic Brand Ogre Alphabet Ouija Boards,™ you can create longer wordsss? For example, set five of them on the floor side by side, and you can create bold new phrases like 'GUHHGUGHUUGHGnH.' And wait, what's this... a ssspecial '250 Ouija boards for 12499 geld' sale?!" Wyvern continues clinging to LilacFlame's application sheet. "That's an entire geld in savings! But better act quick, thisss offer won't last long (they're being disposed of soon)." ;-) OOC: A very nice application piece, LilacFlame. Welcome to the Mighty Pen! :-) I ACCEPT this application under one condition: that you leave old AM grudges behind when writing on these boards. We have many members here who once wrote in Terra of Olde... If the anonymous Guildleader person you refer to should start writing here, you will treat that person as you would treat any other member of the Pen - with kindness, caring, and respect. With this in mind, I'm happy to see you writing here, and am looking forward to reading more of your stuff as well as participating with you in collaborative projects. :-) Welcome, once again.

Zadown, I read through both of these this evening out of curiousity to see how they read back to back, and I liked them both. :-) You'll have to give me a late pass for the original "Dreams of Summer," it's a very nice vignette that's quite worthy of the praise it recieved back in 2003. I particularly liked the detail of the "Alaska" refrigerator magnet and how it ultimately hinted at the man's fate. Still, I think that "Dreams of Summer II" is the better of the two shorts overall, as I really like how you based most of it in the woman's Summer fantasies and then revealed her accident at the end. The heat within her (motorcycle?) helmet seemed to compliment the things she was dreaming about, and the fragmented stream of conscious style of imagery worked very well for her situation. Neither of these pieces was what I was expecting given the positive-sounding titles, but both of them showcased escapism well... and with plenty of great details to boot! ;-)

Another interrupted broadcast. Another lost frequency and loud hiss of static. Another "this is getting tiresome" statement from Appy as the familiar features of Mardrax turn to gray wavelengths on her crystal ball. Just another Monday evening... with your host, Ellllllllllllllllll Wyyyyvvvvverrrrrrrrrnnnnnnnoooo (Q. Almostdragon)! The cameras refocus on Wyvern, who noses through a "Discount Pirate Broadcasting Accessories" catalogue as the show's out-of-tune news medley comes to a close. The overgrown lizard grumbles to himself and tosses the catalogue aside when he finds no skimpy kidnapped pirate maiden outfits for potential interns, then turns his beady eyes towards the cameras with a sneer. "G'd evening." Wyvern folds his claws together, lit under sinister lighting associated to the pirate HQ's lack of any fully functional lights. "To kick off thisss evening's news, a final call for Almost Report internsss! Just so happens I got a letter or two on me that read 'I want IN,' but the more sexy Pen ladiesss on the show, the better! Love of forked-tongue frenchkissing a plus. Just drop me a line in my Persssonal Message box, with a lil' heart seal on it, and I'll see what I can do." Wyvern winks to the cameras, then reaches into his pocket and pulls out a crumpled sheet of paper. A box with an image of a mass Pen mudslinging contest appears in the upper-righthand corner of the screen. "In slightly less important news, there is now a sequel to the uber-popular Mighty Pen Review discussion, which brought us such diverse voices as Sweetcherrie, Morgane, Peredhil, Valdar, Gyrfalcon, Yui, Vlad, cryptomancer, Mynx, Gwaihir, and countless others, . Thought of as the strictly disciplined 'step-brother' of the infamous discussion, the sequel takes the form of three votes that full Pen members are encouraged to contribute to: one on Quill Quests, one on Ranks, and one on Structural Change. Brought to you by the Quincunx, who I'm sure is seething at hearing her name credited on the Almost Report as we speak. Get your votes in there so we can have an afterparty ASAP, preferably before all of these folks disappear into obscurity again!" Wyvern snorts and tosses the crumpled sheet of paper over his shoulder. The image within the box is replaced by a picture of Curious Mylo sitting on top of a very tall pile of furniture. "In further news, items are the name of the game as Curious Mylo has summoned a wide variety of trinkets through numeric code and pennite imaginations. I'm a little biasssed in my love for crafting new products, but objectively speaking, the numeric objects could yield some very interesting results. Be on the lookout... Let the games begin!" Wyvern snaps a claw in the air, and the image within the box switches to that of a video game console with a tigertaur insignia on its lid. "Closing this week's report, I'd like to send a big congratulations out to Katzaniel for getting a foot in the gaming biz! Now that she's inevitably going to become a wealthy video game tycoon, I'm sssure she'll find the time to market some Almost Dragonic products in the digital gaming realm." Wyvern clears his throat and pulls out an unlabeled cassette tape. "This recording of my performance of a scene from the Dreamer's "Havoc" tale, for example, might make a brilliant plot for a third-person shooter (*hint hint* Katz)" *cue screen blackout, followed by static*

Very interesting stuff, Death of Rats. :-) The stream of conscious style works very well in this, and I especially like how you tie together the piece by paralleling the mother writing the "great american novel" with the second person of the poem writing his own novel. The flow of imagery and memories in the poem is very effective to me, and I like how you use Lola as the central point of association. While the first sentence of the poem sounds amazing and wields a plethora of excellent vocabulary, I don't know if it added up to anything meaningful for me... Still, I do think the second sentence of the poem needs an introductory sentence before it, and the first sentence does fall in line with the stream of conscious style. Plus, I also felt like there was an underlying element of War and loss in this piece, and the reference to "artillery" in the first sentence hinted at that as well. So maybe it does fit there in the end, I'm not really sure. Anyway, I really liked this poem Death of Rats. :-) Thanks for sharing it.

Thank you for sharing these poems here, Pheonix. :-) I definitely felt a lot of pain and frustration reading through them, as well as some hints of anger... I hope that writing these feelings out was a self-theraputic process, and that you've been doing a little better since. There were several passages that stood out and resonated with me, particularly "there is always something more to prove" in the sixth poem and "I mock my self pity with words on a page" in the seventh. The final stanza of the twelfth poem was also a very powerful twist on a familiar image, and "wave my pride like a flag in the dark" was an excellent way to end it. Rough drafts or not, there is certainly some quality stuff in here. Thanks again for sharing, Pheonix. :-) I hope these comments are the sort of thing you were searching for.

Wyvern sneered and rubbed his scaly claws together as he observed the lone stranger sitting at the far end of the Pen's bar. The conventional traveler's staff, the common adventurer haircut, the typical meal-ordering instinct... they all spelled out "gullible human mage" to Wyvern. The perfect target; just stopping through, getting something to eat, wouldn't think twice about the lack of receit and fine print refund policy. The overgrown lizard ducked his head and slowly crept up on his prey, positioning himself next to his bar stool. He raised a claw to his snout and whispered in Draken's direction: "Psssssssssst, hey. Pssst, you, yeah you. Wanna be considered a hero, but without all that necessary work that comes with the field of heroism?" Draken turned his head as Wyvern pulled out what appeared to be a string with several large teeth hanging from it. "This Almost Dragonic Brand Draken Tooth Necklace™ is perfect for showing off your slayer skills without having to lift a finger." Wyvern reached into his Devil's Advocate folder and pulled out a blank sheet of paper. "Comes with credentials saying you hacked the teeth out yourself with a rusty blade. Only 300 geld for the ssset." Draken frowned at the apparel for a long moment, and Wyvern nodded over the negative reaction. He tossed the line of teeth back into his sack, then dug into it again and pulled out a scaly-looking sheet. "Necklacesss not your style? Then how about this impressive Almost Dragonic Brand Draken Scale Scarf™? Wear the slain Draken's flesh around yer neck like a ssstylish trophy! The damsels in distress will love it." Wyvern pulled another blank sheet of paper from the Devil's Advocate. "Comes with credentials saying that you ssskinned the Draken while it was still living, and disposed of its life once you felt that it had suffered properly. Only 300 geld for the ssset." Draken shifted his hand over the bar table, a frown still cemented on his face and a low growl now under his breath. Wyvern quietly cursed to himself, then stuffed the scarf back into his sack and resurfaced with a pair of goofy looking glasses. "Perhaps you're looking for something more practical? These Almost Dragonic Brand Akashan Draken Horn Rimmed Glasses™ are made out of pure carved Draken horns, and are capable of seeing right through clever Draken illusions. The legendary Library of Akasha gives these babies a special write up in their 'Banned Optometry Books' disposal pile." Wyvern set the glasses in front of his beady eyes to demonstrate their look, and carefully examined Draken through their lenses. "Indeed... after putting these on and looking at you, I can clearly see that you're eager to purchassse this product!" Wyvern reached into the Devil's Advocate and pulled out another blank sheet, unaware of just how faulty his glasses really were. "Comes with E-Z instructions. Only 300 geld for the ssset." ;-p

After the final advertisement for Almost Dragonic Brand Akashan Fine Wooden Bookmarks™ has passed, a wave of distortion stretches and mutates the images on the screen, switching them to a scene near one of the oaks in the Pen's Courtyard. All eyes turn away from the screens as the camera focuses on Wyvern, who appears to be dressed in a long haired wig, a dress, and fake eyelashes. "I bet the Dreamer could've instilled boundless panic on their minds, while I tried to project even a mild anxiety in vani-... vain. Of courssssse, sssssuch ssssspellssss, usssssseful againsssssst mortalssssss only, are nothing to him, thinks Jankiize. Oh wait, was I supposed to read that part?" The image on the screen suddenly goes black, giving pennites a minute to quickly cast healing spells on their eyes. When the screens light up again, the image of Wyvern in drag has switched to one of Wyvern covered from head to tail in cheap sandpaper. At the overgrown lizard's feet is a tiny lit match, along with a number of stick figures built from scratch. The overgrown lizard lets out a rather timid-sounding roar and begins waving his arms around, only to duck as someone off screen throws a handful of toothpicks at him. "Hey *ow* I thought we agreed - no arrow special effects!" Wyvern tries to dodge another handful of toothpicks, only to get them caught in his sandpaper costume. He jumps around as he tries to pull them out, stepping on several pointy stick figures in the process. "Ow! OW! Dangit, ow! Listen, *owowow* yo-" Wyvern trips over his own tail and topples over, landing snout-first on the "Havoc" camera lense. The Mighty Pen's daily programming is once again reduced to static... ;-)

A scaly claw reaches from under the breakfast table as Happybuddha continues chowing down on his 19-course meal. It scratches the wooden surface with quick pats until it comes in contact with a large crumb dropped from a gigantic piece of buttered toast that Happybuddha is munching on. The claw snatches the crumb and disappears back under the table, only to reappear a few minutes later, closer to the full hog bacon platter this time. The claw and Happybuddha's hand reach for the sizzling bacon at the same time, and Happybuddha grunts over the hefty weight of the pig. He pauses, however, as he notices Wyvern hanging from one of the hog's hooves. "H-Happy Birthday Happybuddha." Wyvern slowly exhales as Happybuddha lowers the hog, and hops off onto stable ground. "Hope yer having a great one, I just thought I'd stick around here as a vacuum for any leftovers that reached the floor, y'know?" Wyvern lets out an awkward laugh, then quickly turns and pulls out what appears to be a leftover plank from his Almost Dragonic Brand Semi-Authentic Akashan Ink Well™ cart with a little bow wrapped around its jagged end. "I brought ya this Almost Dragonic Brand Semi-Authentic Akashan Giant Buddhist Toothpick™ for when you finish your meal." Wyvern sets the gift down near Happybuddha's spot at the table and flashes a toothy grin. "It'll easily glide between yer teeth thanksss to the extra transparent ink that covers it. Same ink that's used in manufacturing Almost Dragonic Brand Semi-Authentic Akashan Giant Christian Toothpicks™ and Almost Dragonic Brand Semi-Authentic Akashan Giant Jewish Toothpicks™, actually..." ;-) OOC: Happy Birthday Happybuddha. :-) Hope you had a great one.

Wyvern slithers back into the Cabaret Room, dryer than before but still a bit pale over the prospect of finding hidden puddles leftover from the faucet tide. The overgrown lizard stares up at the ceiling as his tail swishes past the empty bar, marveling at the new spider webs and the rekindling of the candles so soon after the wave had hit. The lizard nods with approval as he steps past the Valdar-Rydia huddle, grinning at the lack of drippy ceiling grates. "Well, I mussst say, Zool did a great job of whipping these quarters back into shape. Heck, I never even realized the old codger could use a mop, what with that frame of his." Wyvern scratches his chin, then flinches away from Rydia's ultra-emphatic tone as she and Valdar begin circling the shiny in their protective huddle. The overgrown lizard pauses next to the sleeping duo of Canid and Morgane, only to suddenly go a sickly shade of purple as he notices a miniature image doodled under one of Canid's paws. "Canid, wake up!" Wyvern nudges Canid with a scaly foot to no avail, then slowly begins inching his stinger in her direction. "The fish has gotta go, no remnants of the 'Rubber Faucet Wave' incident should remain in these quarters. We're gonna need a mini-harpoon, a mini-spatula, and a mini set of ssseasoning saltsss so we can do away with it.... That, or we could forcefeed it to Rubber Chicken as a form of punishment." ;-)

Great movie reviews, everyone. :-) Zadown - Ahhh yes, the once-promising M. Night Shyamalan... In my view, "The Sixth Sense" was very good with a great ending, "Unbreakable" was *tolerable* with a great ending, but "Signs" was where he really stepped over the line. I remember taking a hesistant friend of mine to see that in the theatres since I was confident that Shyamalan would at least deliver another twist ending, and we ended up laughing at the horrendousness of half the movie. Making aliens that look like your typical textbook alien is one thing, but giving them a weakness to water (wtf?) and using a camera shot from an alien's perspective of a glass of water tipping over to signal their demise (WTF???) is straight up rediculous! That camera shot cracked me up so much in the theatre that it maintains a special place in my mind when I think of the worst cinematography ever put to film. So yeah, I guess I'm not quite as lenient on the quality of "Signs" as you are... ;-) I haven't seen a Shyamalan movie since, but I'm sure that "Lady in the Water" is every bit as horrible as you say it is... especially after reading that review of yours with its brilliant GM simile, haha! I'll definitely pass on the Qwerties, thanks. Canid - I haven't seen "Kinky Boots," so no comment there... it does sound very interesting from your description of it, and given your glowing review I might have to give it a shot at some point. I did see "The Illusionist" and thought that it was a decent film, with a cool ending and some nice acting from Paul Giamatti and Ed Norton. Nothing too exciting in my book, but it was an entertaining movie that held my attention. Geldrinhor - I agree that it's about time that Scorcese scored an Oscar for Best Director in all his years of directing, and think that "The Departed" was probably the best film out of the films that were nominated (though to be fair, I have yet to see "Pan's Labryinth" or "Queen"). Still, the film didn't exactly blow me out of the water... I found it entertaining, but sort of a typical approach for a mob film. If you were to shuffle "Departed" with four other mob movies, I doubt I'd be able to identify anything unique or "Scorcese-esque" about it. I agree with you that the premise for the movie is an excellent one, and that it had some good acting (Jack Nicholson was Jack Nicholson, and I thought DeCaprio put on a great performance as well), but the execution of the film left me with something to be desired. By the way, just for the record, my favorite films of 2006 were "Inland Empire" and "Borat," though I have yet to see "Pan's Labryinth" and "Volver" and am looking forward to checking both of them out on DVD when I get a chance. On a seperate note, I watched the film "Tsotsi" last night. It's an African movie that won the "Best Foreign Film" award in the '05 Oscars. At the risk of coming across as a snob, "Tsotsi" basically felt like a poor man's version of "City of God" to me. The movie deals with a thuggish African gangleader who accidentally kidnaps a baby in a carjacking, and has to decide whether or not he should take care of it. The first ten minutes of the film are promising, with a fantastic soundtrack and a depiction of crime with practically no dialogue. Unfortunately, the rest of the film swerved into more "Hollywood" territory and wasn't as engaging to me. Comparisons between this film and "City of God" are pretty much inevitable, and "City of God" trumps this movie in every regard. Still, it's a decent film with some pretty good acting.

Everyone's favorite crystal ball, television, and Almost Dragonic Brand Ogre Alphabet Ouija Board™ transmissions are once again interrupted by noisy bouts of pirate broadcasting static. Gyrfalcon curses over losing Sweetcherrie's visage on his crystal ball, Falcon2001 groans over another anime interrupted, and Mardrax watches curiously as an Almost Dragonic Brand Ogre Alphabet Ouija Board™ changes its "wide ogre vocabulary" from G-U-H to U-G-H. Wyvern's scaly face once again becomes the focal point of boob tubes across the Pen. "Greeetingsss, and welcome to this week's almost report, brought to you by the Almost Report. I'm yer unfaithful host, Wyvern." Wyvern shreds some paperwork between his claws and winks towards the camera, then glances over a list in front of him. "First item in this week's news is A Reminder to Validating Pen Membersss. Send a personal message to one of the Pen's Elders if you wish to be validated, and you should be ready post in a jiffy... unless you send the personal message to me of course, in which cassse the speed may depend on the amount of geld you're willing to deposit. Quick Validation will lead to quicker rank racketeering for me either way, so get on it!" Wyvern licks his lips, then turns to another list on the table and looks it over. "In further newsss, it seems that you sexy Pen gals have been a little on the shy side when it comes to admitting your secret longings and desires to become an intern on the Almost Report. At this point in the show, I'd simply like to ssstate that the rumors that have been circulating about interns being forced to perform dastardly deeds is entirely falssse... I'll be the one performing the dastardly deeds, thank you very much. To restate the requirements, you must be: hot, female, and willing to go all out for the sssake of entertainment. Scale fetish a plus. Jussst drop me a lil' Personal Message sealed with a heart, and we'll talk show business." Wyvern loosens his collar a bit and gives the camera his best beady-eyed Sean Connery. "There's no use resssisting. And besides, you know you want to take a walk on the almost dragonic side." Wyvern snickers a bit, then shuffles the second list to the side and turns to a third list. "Ssspeaking of dastardly deeds - do you have a news item so hot that it's burning your palms as we speak? Some dirty gossip or inside scoop, perhapsss? Got enough geld to prove that it's true? If so, the Almost Report would like your news for our weekly broadcast. Just send me a Personal Message sealed with a golden stamp containing all the detailsss, and I'll be sure to mention it on my next show. Slight distortion of facts may occur. That's PO Box 666, The Mighty Pen Recruiter's Office, Mighty Pen Keep." Wyvern rubs his claws together in anticipation, and turns to yet another list as he continues. "To wrap up this broadcast, I'd just like to extend my personal best wishesss to Zadown with a belated Happy Birthday offering. Almost Dragonic Inc. would like to offer to televise scenes staged by pennites of the Dreamer's mighty exploits if any are interested, as a gift to this long-heralded Bard of the Pen. Extra bonusss points for the best giant army arachnid costume and the most visible set of scars. Broadcasting will begin in a moment... after these four lists full of advertisements." Pennites turn away from their screens in agony as an advertisement for Almost Dragonic Brand Ogre Alphabet Ouija Boards™ begins playing on their sets. "Almost Dragonic Brand Ogre Alphabet Ouija Boards™... the only Almost Dragonic Brand product that can spell the word "hug." H-G-U, "hug." ;-p

Wyvern slinks into the still-slippery Cabaret Room with a low grumble, his soaked scales drooping and giving his whole figure a very sulky demeanor. He coughs a bit of water and hacks up the remains of a lost Pen quill, then reaches into his pouch and pulls out a wet sheet of paper. "Wrote this *cough* caught in recent tidesss, thinkin' I wouldn't make it. Writing's a little rushed, but s'kinda an obituary blurb." Wyvern spreads the sheet on a table in the hopes of letting it dry, and picks up an overturned chair to sit on as the other pennites glance over the fading ink curiously. Wyvern Q. Almostdragon (? - the year he became a gazillionaire) Wyvern, also known to many under the monikers Wyvern the Great, Wyvern the Sexy Gecko, and Wyvern the Ignoble, passed away from what has been described as "hydro Zool-related nonsense" yesterday. The legendary lizard will be buried in an Almost Dragonic Brand Leftover Sales Cart Wood Coffin™, on sale now for only 50 geld, with accompanying Almost Dragonic Brand Wacked Weed Bouquets™ and Almost Dragonic Brand Funerary Sparkly Sprinklers™, 30 geld and 20 geld respectively. The great schemer will be surrounded by Almost Dragonic Brand Cardboard Filler Headstones™, selling at 15 geld a piece, and an Almost Dragonic Brand Zombie Moans Greatest Hits CD™ will be played as accompanying background music, on sale for 10 geld for a limited time only. Transportation to the funeral will be provided by Almost Dragonic Brand Kobold Hiking Services™, only 5 geld. Ladies can feel free to adorn Wyvern's burial sight with lingerie for 0 geld charge. Admissions to the funeral is 5000 geld. All proceeds from Almost Dragonic Inc. products will go directly to Wyvern's coffin, with the exception of 10% which will go to the charity of crafting a gold coin in his honor. Should Wyvern happen to not quite be dead and awaken from his coffin, there will be no refunds provided. Wyvern Q. Almostdragon (? - the year he became a gazillionaire), Rest In Priceyness.

Wyvern's eyes turned to tiny specks as he observed the second enormous Cabaret tidal wave in as many weeks, backing away and repeating the mantra "no aqua no aqua no aqua no aqua." As the tidal wave cast its shadow over half of the Cabaret Room, Wyvern shut his eyes and turned to Zool's suggestion, imagining himself as the one being promoted. The reptilian Elder grinned at the thought of an entire harem of pennite ladies spearheaded by Signe being organized for the occasion, and opened his mouth in the hopes of being fed curly onion cheese doodles while getting his full body massage. Nearby, Ozymandias had so many prestigous "Salesman of the Century" awards stacked in his arms that it looked like he was losing his balance, and Zool kept harping on and on about ancient quill traditions. Wyvern let out a happy sigh and slid his tongue into a golden gold-rimmed chalice with gold sidehandles and a golden coaster, only to frown when he tasted water instead of Ol' Peculiar. And it was around that point that Wyvern snapped out of his reverie and found himself six feet underwater. *Glargle* Wyvern struggled upwards against the tides, barely managing to surface his snout for a breath of air as the current pulled him along. He flapped his wings in a struggle to get his head above the surface. "Zoo-*gurgle*-ooooo-*glargle*-ool!" As if on cue, Wyvern suddenly noticed what appeared to be a rectangular plank of wood gliding across the top of the water a few feet away from him. He scrambled his way towards it, with no knowledge of how to swim but just enough desperation to carry himself that extra yard. Wyv gripped the side of the plank, only to notice a familiar canvas painted on its surface. "Errr, hey there Wyvern." Zool glanced up nervously from his painted position, looking very comfortable in his painted surroundings as the water rushed beneath him. "Care for a cup o' Joe?" "How many timesss must I tell you Zool?! NO BATHS!" "Hey! What're you-?" Zool flinched as Wyvern crawled on top of his canvas, dribbling tons of water from his scales and coughing up wet ashes. "Augh! Watch it, that's my face you have your foot on!" Wyvern pulled his tail from the water and slowly stood on top of Zool, only to find that the picture frame still seemed to float on top of the water and supported his weight. The overgrown lizard spread his wings for balance as he surfed on Zool's portrait, his scales blowing back as the speed of the current steadily picked up. "Geeze, could somebody get me a freakin' towel?!" Wyvern glanced around, finding only submerged furniture and pennites with exotic swimming techniques. Mardrax's frantic doggypaddling stood out in particular, with his lost quill ever-so-slightly in front of him in the tide egging him onward. "Nobody?! Can't a scaly hunk like myself get a little re-" Wyvern's whining was cut short as the Portrait of Zool passed under an arched doorway. Wyvern's horns slammed against the top of the doorway, sending him into a triple backflip that ended face first underwater. *Blarghlegurglegagglegurgle!*

Wyvern scurries into the Banquet Hall with a large notepad labeled "Blackmail Resources/Poetry Doodle Pad." The overgrown lizard seats himself on a chair adjacent to the spot where Norman is reciting his poetry. He licks his quill and nods to Norman's words, then begins scrawling several notations onto his sheet. "Sssoooo tell me Norman, would this be a kind of 'Gut the Healfdead Kobold Jig' type orc dance, or more of a 'Panic Over Disturbing the Dragon Hords Disco' type orc dance?" ;-)

Whisky keeps her head up straight and strikes a nervous smile as she finishes reciting her poem. A short moment of silence passes before Woody the Office Door begins slamming himself open and shut behind her in a wild round of applause. The door stops as it notices the bewildered expression on Whisky's face, and slowly closes itself in the hopes of having mercy on her eardrums. Whisky in Babylon frowns as she observes the desolate paper wasteland that seems to constitute the rest of the Office, sighing at the quiet rustle of the loose leafs. She turns to leave the Office when the sound of two claws clapping catches her ears. "Bravo!" Whisky in Babylon turns and watches as her application sheet seems to raise itself from its own paper pile, impaled by what appears to be the tip of a horn. Wyvern's scaly snout surfaces from the depths of the paperwork below, followed by his shark-like sneer. The overgrown lizard slams his tail on the ground to amplify his cheering, then steps up to Whisky with a shuffle of scales. "Exxxcccellent poem. I can definitely see where you're going with this." Wyvern waves the application sheet in the air and sniffs at it for a minute, then nudges Whisky in Babylon with a scaly shoulder. "Ssspeaking of which, where was it that we last left off? Y'know, in that little talk we were having before that incident (the one that shall only be referred to as the 'Bathtub Tidal Quack' incident and shall never be described again)?" Whisky in Babylon gulps and stiffens up as Wyvern begins circling her, scoping her out again. "Ahhh yesss, that was it. You would be the perfect little model for Almost Dragonic Brand Laziness Lager.™ Just imagine, dressing in true play-nymph bunny style and making a cameo on the Almost Report to speak that magic ssslogan: 'Almost Dragonic Brand Laziness Lager™ - the gutrot that sleepless troll dreams are made of (note:AlmostDragonicIncconsidersdeathaprolongedformofsleepinlightofthisproduct). ' And the audience will salivate and think to themselves: 'wow, that's some really hot Whisky, I need to purchase that even though I'm not a troll OR an insomniac.' It'sss a no-fail scheme, Whisk! Waddaya say?" Whisky in Babylon stares around the room for any other pennites in near reach, holding her breath as Wyvern extends a scaly arm around one of her shoulders. "Given that 'honorable' isn't really your ssstyle, I have no doubt that you'd fit the role." Wyvern's forked tongue flicks in and out as he speaks. "We could make you a skimpy suite outta some o' the paper here and then paint it green, red, purple, and blue, just like yer poem suggestsss! We could even add a littl-" Wyvern pauses as Woody the Office Door creaks open in a deliberatly loud manner, his grainy surface showing a growing impatience. Wyvern grunts to himself and digs out his application stamp, tagging Whisky in Babylon's application ACCEPTED. The overgrown lizard begins to hand it back to her, but rereads the third stanza and decides to fold it between his claws instead. "I think I'll keeping this poem for a while, if that'sss alright." Wyvern glances both ways, then files Whisky's poem into the extra-private collection of papers that Norman the Runt had organized in his desk. He then clears his throat of a few ashes and turns back towards Whisk. "Now then, where werrre we..." ;-) OOC: A very good poem and an ACCEPTED application piece, Whisky in Babylon. Welcome to the Mighty Pen! I've definitely been reading and appreciating your contributions to the Pen in the past few weeks, and really hope that this is only the beginning of many creative works and collaborations to come. I hope that you find the Pen a very friendly and welcoming community to participate in, and look forward to getting to know you better. Once again, welcome!

The ledge outside the Office window creaks and groans as a tail pokes its way through a slim opening under the glass. The tail seems to fumble about for a moment, then pauses as the tip of its stinger connects with an interior lock keeping the window shut. The tail seems to twist to an uncomfortable angle as the stinger pokes its way into the keyhole, only to flail back in the right direction as the length of the tail flies back out of the window crack. It almost vanishes completely, but is held in sight by the stinger as it manages to hook itself onto the interior window frame. After a prolonged cry of pain and countless door-related curses, the length of the tail slides back into the room, followed by two scaly claws. The lock snaps as the window is pulled open by brute force. Wyvern storms in from the cold, dizzy and panting, his scales in total disarray. "Don't give me that look." Wyvern grits his teeth and points an accusatory claw at Woody the Office door. The door tries its best to suppress a splintered grin. "One o' thessse days, I'm gonna have one of the Pen's talented artisssts carve an almost dragonic advertisssement in that grainy face of yers, yeesh!" Wyvern stomps on the ground and growls, seething with frustration for a few minutes. He then grumbles to himself and turns towards his Office mess, noting how unusually quiet and empty the Office seems given the hour. The overgrown lizard steps over a few ragged magazines as he hikes towards his desk, only to pause and raise a brow as he notices something out of line... an empty spot? The winter paperwork wasteland was still in full effect, but there were now areas that seemed as though they'd been shoveled in the tidiest manner possible. "Hrmph, that's odd." Wyvern frowns at the effect that an organized spot has on the Office's look as a whole, and scoops up some papers from a nearby pile to sprinkle them over the clean area. "I coulda sworn there wasss a bush of crumpled tax documentsss here just a day ago. And what happened to the trail of used Madlib paper airplanes leading to the smut stump? Hmmm..." Wyvern turns and carefully retraces his steps, wandering around the Office for a moment until he finally reaches what appears to be the same lightly-sprinkled spot that he'd started from. He frowns and curses to himself, then proceeds to wander around in circles for a long while until he spots the familiar peaks of paperwork above his desktop. The reptilian races in the direction of the monument, and screeches to a confetti-filled halt as he arrives at an unfamiliar lump of discarded schemes. He seats himself on top of the lump and lets out a long sigh, then pauses as he notices a fresh-looking piece of paper at his feet. "Hmmm." Wyvern picks up Norman the Runt's application letter and reads it over. He slowly nods and folds the sheet, scanning the paperwork horizon for any signs of an applicant. "That's weird, I wonder where he we-" Wyvern freezes up as the paperwork lump that he's sitting on begins quaking beneath him. The overgrown lizard jumps from his spot and backs away, only to jump back again as Norman the Runt surfaces from the depths of the lump. The exhausted applicant gasps for air, his orcish demeanor gone deathly pale. "Paper *cough* avalanche... was just trying to *gasp* to clean, when-" "Ahhhh geeze. Lissssten, you never almost suffocated in my Office paperwork, alright?" Wyvern bites his scaly lip, then unfolds Norman the Runt's application letter and cleans it of its stray confetti. The overgrown lizard stamps the application ACCEPTED, then turns to Norman with the letter firmly in hand. "As for your offer: thanksss, but no thanks. It's tempting, but I'd prefer if you invested in a piece of Almost Dragonic Brand Scrap Paper Property™ instead. The retail value of thisss exotic location is bound to skyrocket in value once all of the world's copy machines have been disposed of, after all." ;-p OOC: An ACCEPTED application piece, Norman. Welcome to the Mighty Pen! :-) I look forward to roleplaying with you much more, as well as to reading any other writing that you might have to offer the Pen. Once again, welcome.