Wyvern

I like this piece, Savage Dragon. :-) The narrator feels very distant from the girl in the manner that he tells the story, though the phrasing of "she wanted to be" at the end of the fourth paragraph does suggest a certain sympathy on his part. Keeping the protagonist at a distance from the narrator and reader works well for this piece in my opinion, as it really manages to highlight the girl's problems and put them at the forefront of the narrative. Also, I really like how you start the story off with the lonely "...anyone?..." and end it on a hopeful note with the girl raising her hand. The angelic aspects of the child were also interesting, though his dialogue felt a little "textbook metaphor"-type plain to me.

Anyway, this is nice stuff Savage Dragon. :-) Thanks for sharing it here.

Bob Suloberrin turns towards the cameras with a serious expression on his face, shuffling news pamphlets in what appears to be a very legitimate newsroom.

!Special Report! "Validating Pen members should now have the option to PM the Pen's Eldership in order to speed up their validation process. If you are in the process of validation and would like to be able to post as soon as possible, simply send a Personal Message expressing your interest to one of the following Elders: Quincunx, Wyvern (though he's notorious for validation tax con games, and shouldn't be trusted), Gyrfalcon, The Portrait of Zool, Gwaihir, Ayshela, or Ozymandias. This should facilitate the validation process for all parties involved, and should also allow you to post with your account much sooner after you register it. Validating members should also beware of-" !Special Report!

Bob Suloberrin is suddenly cut off as the screens burst into a bout of static. The static roars for a few minutes before gradually calming, the focus switching to the crowded clutter of a tiny pirate broadcasting HQ. Wyvern grins and bows his head as the cameras approach, accidentally slamming one of the lenses with a horn. The cracked camera wobbles as it attempts to stay functional in Wyvern's presence, giving out to brief spurts of static every few seconds.

"*Ahem* Welcome back to the Almossst Report. And now, sssome news you'll really enjoy." Wyvern pulls a medium-sized mirror from under the table and sets it on top of the skull-and-crossbones tablecloth. He grins and stares into the mirror for a long moment, posing and admiring every crimson scale. "Current reportsss indicate that, in Orlan's absence, Wyvern's sex appeal has rocketed out of control into a full-blown love epidemic. I realissse that some of you Pen gals may not be fully aware of this yet... but you just heard it on the newsss, so it must be true! Ssspeaking of which, the Almost Report is looking for some bright-eyed interns willing to take the rap, err... credit! All intern applicants must be extremely cute, female, and willing to dress in a two-piece suite for weather reports. Fondness for tail massaging a plus. Jussst call 1-900-WYVORSHIP, or drop a lil' PM in my box. You know you want it."

Wyvern snaps a claw and lets out an obnoxious laugh, only to accidentally elbow the mirror and send it flying off the table. The overgrown lizard frowns as a loud shattering noise echoes in the background, followed by the screams of a troglyodyte cameraman. The lizard clears his throat as loud as he can.

"Moving right along in current newsss, congratulations go out to Mardrax for his promotion to Quillbearer. Having known Mardrax for some time, I like to think that I've kept track of his progress, as well as his unpaid application fees which remain over 50 geld to this day (you gotta include interest). Well, it'sss my pleasure to see that if Mardrax needs to pay off his debt by doing grunt labor, it'll be through wiping people's quills. Congratsss!"

Wyvern sneers towards the cameras, then shuffles through paperwork until he comes across another hot topic.

"In other news, be sure to give a warm welcome our newest writers at the Pen. EdenSinger has been lending her beautiful vocals to the Banquet Hall, Kishana has offered a few precautionary measures, and Norman the Runt has been drinking as any good orc should. A certain Draken has also been spotted searching for available Pen lodgings. Be sure to give these folksss a warm Pen welcome if you see'em, and put in a good word about Almost Dragonic Inc. while yer at it."

Wyvern tosses the remaining papers onto the table and leans back, nearly toppling over as he forgets that he's on a stool. The overgrown lizard straightens his scales, then points a claw towards the camera.

"To finish off thisss report, a quick Happy Birthday to both Alaeha and Yuki Kokoro. They no longer ssseem to be with us, but their contributionsss to the Pen have certainly not been forgotten."

Wyvern turns away from the cameras and waves a claw in the air to signal the "exit theme," only to have a glass-covered troglyodyte hand toss a fresh-looking sheet of paper onto his table. Wyvern glances at the paper and reads it over to make sure that it isn't a death threat or an impending lawsuit, then turns back towards the half-broken camera lens with a grin. "Before anyone takes off, we have Breaking News! Thisss just in: Patrick Durham would like to announce that the guilds have officially been re-opened, and are now integrated into the Assembly Room and Conservatory as described here. Is this a sssign of Carnivals to come? Stay tuned with us next time, on the Almossst Repo-"

*ksssshhhhhhhhhhhhhhhttttttttt*

From the uproar of the Cabaret crowds comes the ringing of single cowbell, shaken by a familiar claw that surfaces above the heads of the gathered pennites. Wyvern shoves his way through the bustling crowds, pushing a shakey wooden sales cart full of small flasks that tremble with every inch forward. The reptilian Elder curses when one of the cart's tiny wheels finally snaps as it rolls over cryptomancer's foot. He drops his cowbell and races to the slanting side of the cart as it tilts, compressing his wings in a struggle to save as many of the small bottles as he can.

"Innnnk Weelllllsssssssss!" Wyvern shrieks the words out in desperation, his wooden cart steadily losing more parts and dropping more bottles. He accidentally scoops his cowbell up with his tail stinger and begins ringing it again, louder this time. "Innnk Wellllssss! Almost *ack* DRAGONIC BRAND SEMI-AUTHENTIC AKASHAN INK WELLSSS™! Get'em *gack* while they last, act now - I mean NOW! Each comes with special *grunt* seal from the Aka- *ack* Askasha Library dumpstersss!"

Wyvern stares towards Mardrax with the largest innocent saucer eyes he can muster, looking more like a shocked gecko than any breed of sad puppy.

"No, argh, NO QuillbearershouldbewithoutthisoneofakindInkWell!" Wyvern grits his teeth as the cart begins collapsing more in his direction, the wooden planks splintering and sending bottles of ink sliding towards his horns. "Comes in *blaugh* transparent blank, transparent *clank* white, normal transssparent, or extra transparent. Act now, now, NOW!"

;-)

OOC: Congratulations, Mardrax. ^_-

Nice poem, Kishana. :-) The repetition of the italicized "Are you O.K?" stanzas has an interesting effect, as it seems to give the words of concern a nagging undertone that frustrates the narrator by the end of the piece. The presence of the pills, instructions, and phone numbers are also very interesting to me, as they seem to suggest a certain reliance on the part of the narrator or an overprotectiveness on the part of the person asking the questions. Out of curiousity, is there a particular reason that you chose to capitalize the first letters of "Just In Case" at the ends of those stanzas?

I agree with reverie that the last line of the poem might not be having the effect that you currently desire with it, as the combined "Shutupandleave" statement almost gives the stanza a more comic feel to me than it does a dramatic feel. You might consider expanding this stanza with a more elaborate exploration of the frustration involved to improve upon this, or you could simply drop it as reverie suggested.

Anyway, thanks for sharing this here Kishana. :-) Welcome to the Mighty Pen.

I agree with you about "Mulholland Dr.," Zool, that probably ranks as my favorite David Lynch movie as well. :-) I also really liked "The Science of Sleep," and actually think that I wrote a review for it somewhere earlier in this thread.

I've been catching up on a number of critically acclaimed movies with my folks recently, including "The Departed," "Marie Antoinette," "Flags of our Fathers" and "Letters From Iwo Jima." And, at the risk of sounding like a total snob, I must say that all of these films left me feeling rather underwhelmed. :-/

"The Departed" is the new all-star Martin Scorsese gangster flick, featuring Jack Nicholson, Matt Damon, Leonard Dicaprio, and Alec Baldwin amongst others. The concept of the film is excellent, as the story revolves around a gangster that infiltrates the police force by posing as a cop while at the same time an undercover cop infiltrates the mob by posing as a gangster. Plenty of interesting situations arise as a result of this twisted knot of spies, and time reveals who the good guys and the bad guys really are. Unfortunately, despite some cool acting on the parts of Nicholson and Dicaprio, "Departed" felt more like "Mission: Impossible" than it did "The Godfather." It seemed to me like Scorsese had very low ambitions for the film, and while it provided two hours of entertainment, it felt sort of like your typical gangster film with a little spy twist thrown in for effect. To make matters worse, Scorsese just had to go and throw in two blunt literary quotes in the first twenty minutes of the film, going so far as to have the characters name the author and work that the quotes were from... Joyce and Hawthorne are probably turning in their graves as we speak. Fortunately, the "deepness" ends there and the rest of the film is some cops and robbers action type stuff. Entertaining though rather unmemorable film, watch it without any high expectations and you'll enjoy it.

"Marie Antoinette" is a new film by Sofia Coppola ("Lost in Translation") detailing the life and times of Marie Antoinette, the queen married to Louis XVI before the eventual beheadings of the French Revolution. Coppola's directorial approach in the film is an interesting one, as she deals with Marie Antoinette's troubles in the nobility of the secluded castle without ever really venturing into the politics behind the uprising of France. Perspective-wise, this feels realistic, as Marie Antoinette probably had no idea of the larger problems of France and existed in her own little private bubble. Only near the end of the film do we get a sense that something's gone wrong, and even then there are no depictions of arrests or beheadings. For all of Coppola's feminine touches and odd soundtrack choices, a central problem festers at the heart of this movie: Marie Antoinette's life just isn't that interesting to watch. I respect the direction of the film, but I'll be damned if watching one palace social after another doesn't get boring after a while. Kristen Dunst is also not a good actress, though she admittedly fits the hollow social ettiquette of Antoinette well. I loved "Lost in Translation," but didn't really care for this one overall.

"Flags of our Fathers" and "Letters From Iwo Jima" are two interconnected World War II movies directed by Clint Eastwood. "Flags of our Fathers" deals with the American perspective of the battle of Iwo Jima and the lucritive aftermath surrounding its celebritized survivors, while "Letters From Iwo Jima" deals with the Japanese perspective of the battle and the hopeless situation they faced battling the Americans. The two films compliment each other nicely, with each film revealing a little more about the other, but somehow they struck me as a little less epic than Clint Eastwood intended. The movies get my respect for their original takes on the War, with "Letters From Iwo Jima" standing out in particular for its unique Japanese viewpoint of the battle, but aside from these initial concepts the films pretty much follow the standard war movie formula: a bit of deep dialogue there, some gruesome deaths here, flashback over there, etc. Neither of them really stood out to me for this reason... If you're going to test one of the two, I guess I'd recommend "Iwo Jima" over "Flags of our Fathers." But nothing special, really...

Burittodood shifts his feet through the many layers of discarded paperwork surrounding his applicant easychair, trying not to absorb too many details in the untidy Recruiter Office environment. The applicant glances towards the Office's Rolodex clock to check how late the Elder of Initiates is, only to turn his eyes as a slow creaking sound echoes from the opposite end of the room. Burittodood frowns when he turns and finds noone there, noticing only the Office door ever-so-slightly ajar. He concentrates and squints towards the door, trying to see if he can make out anyone next to it, only to jump as the Office window behind him slams open with all the subtlety of an Almost Dragonic Brand Batteringram Alarm Clock™.

"Sssorry to keep you waiting." Wyvern tosses a familiar-looking bag of fruit-shaped soot into the Office, then crams his way through the crack in the window, tail first. "I'm sure you'll be pleased to hear that I've marked down the price for those fruits I offered ya. It's now 6 geld for the entire sack, waddaya say?"

Burittodood stares down at the Office floor in silence, unresponsive. Wyvern glances down to where the applicant's eyes seem to be focused, and freezes as he notices his own scaly foot planted in the center of the fragile sack. The overgrown lizard curses through his pointy teeth, then extends a claw to Burittodood and gives him a quick handshake.

"Anyway, nice to see you here Moon Halo. And apologiesss, I really need to find another way into this Office."

Wyvern removes his foot from the crumbled soot fruit sack and glares towards the Office door at the other end of the room. Burittodood raises a brow as the door seems to slowly creak again, moving entirely on its own.

"Let'sss see here." Wyvern plucks Burittodood's application story from the tip of his desktop's paperwork pile and begins reading it over. The reptilian Elder raises a claw to his chin and pauses halfway through the story, glancing towards Burittodood and then at the creaking Office door. "Hrmmm. Sliding doors...?"

"I knew it!" Woody the Office Door suddenly speaks up, his grainy voice grating through the room. He opens and slams himself shut a few times in excitement. "Moon Halo! I knew the name rang a bell. This guy was a brother in a past life!"

Burittodood stares in confusion, lost somewhere between the talking door and the prospect of having once been a talking door.

"Don't mind him." Wyvern cocks a claw back at Woody, then waves burittodood's application sheet a few times. "Now lisssten, I normally don't accept Doors Rights Parchments cus' of personal grudgesss, but I think you might be on to something here in terms of a good, hard-working door replacement..."

Wyvern goes quiet as he hears Woody mumbling arcane words about Mahogoni Closet in the backgroud. He quickly stamps burittodood's application ACCEPTED before racing back towards the window, shoving his right ring out and getting his tail stuck in the process. The chair that burittodood had previously been sitting on begins to levitate, its legs aiming themselves in the direction of Wyvern's head...

;-p

OOC: An ACCEPTED application story, burittodood. Welcome to the Mighty Pen! This is a clever piece of writing, and I'm looking forward to seeing more writing from you, as well as to participating with you in creative community events. I hope that you feel welcome here and that you'll enjoy the Pen for a long time to come. :-)

Burittodood suddenly goes cross-eyed as a banana that looks like it could have been pulled straight from the Ebon Soul Tar Pits is dangled in front of his face. He twists his nose in disgust as he focuses on the thoroughly bruised skin of the "fresh" fruit, and blinks twice when he notices what appears to be a coat of ash covering its surface.

"Greetingsss." The almost dragonic claw that holds the banana pulls back, revealing Wyvern with a soot-covered sack of deformed fruits at his feet. "Wyvern, nice to meet ya. You inquired about the state of the fruit 'round these partsss, so I figured I'd bring you a little sampler down from the Almost Dragonic Brand Fruit-like Mutant Processing Plant™. Have a look-see."

Burritodood's face turns slightly green as Wyvern pulls out what appear to be charred, lifeless versions of a plaintain, a tangerine, and a watermelon.

"Sssooo, you're a 'choritzo and veggie special' kinda burittodood and not a 'microwavable bean and cheese' kinda burittodood I hope?" Wyvern spits on one of the fruits and rubs it with a claw. "There's enough special fruit here to pack a 90% packet, and they're only 3 geld a piece. Observe."

Wyvern scoops up the three fruits on display in a sad attempt at sales juggling, only to fumble and drop them in a matter of seconds. The fruits immediately dissolve into soot upon hitting the ground, with the would-be watermelon causing a little cloud of dust.

"*cough* ...well *cough,* at least you won't *cough* have to worry about slipping over any banana peels *cough*" Wyvern grumbles as he shifts his tail through the soot. "Welcome to the Pen... Let me know when those Hawaiin pizzas are ready, would ya?"

;-)

Wyvern peers over Whisky in Babylon's shoulder with a nervous twitch, watching Minta paint the madlibs zombie red, skellie white, and gross ghoulie green. The lizard goes even more cowardly when he views the water involved in Minta's bath, and nudges Whisky with a claw.

"Hey, hey Whisk'" Wyvern raises a claw to his mouth as Whisky in Babylon turns her head. He quickly presses a crumpled sheet of paper in her direction. "Shhh-shh, hey, do me a favor? Drop this in the resssults pile when the coast is clear. I'm tryin' to low-ball it here."

1. uninhibited

2. idolize

3. demanding concubine

4. earlobe

5. evangelize

6. waistline

7. lust

8. lumpenproletarian

9. barely legal ear massage

10. Scottish guttersnipe

11. they

12. escalating excitement

13. sexified

14. emotionally fragile

15. sternum

16. fetishize

17. burritodood's pet panda

18. eviscerate

19. long bushy tail

20. physically satisfied

21. play dumb

Nice poem, dragonqueen. :-) I like the way that you use the adjective "candied" to describe your words, as the element of sugary sweetness is a great way to show how the words offer a solace from the world's many hardships. It also works in the metaphor of the rain washing away the castle... sometimes, there's simply no escaping the troubles of the world. I really sympathize with this piece since I use creativity and roleplaying as an escape as well, so if you ever feel lonely in your castle of words, know that there's at least one reptilian schemer plotting a means to breach the inner-quarters. ;-)

Very nice stuff, dragonqueen. :-) Thanks for sharing it with us.

I pretty much agree with Tanuchan, Xaious... this is very interesting and distinctive stuff. :-) I think that the further this poem ventures into the unconscious ramblings of the mind, the more interesting it becomes to me. My favorite lines are the ones that deal with the place that's "not with elbow to one's throat," as the half-grammatical contemplations tend to flow well and give the poem a very personal feel to me. The only lines that I didn't like in the poem were the ones that detailed the narrator's current point in travel, as lines like "Steadily I come near to my house, and continue my musings" didn't feel quite as important to the poem as a whole to me. Overall, though, I think you do a great job of relaying a state of mind in this piece, and pull the reader right into your thought process with your well-structured lines.

Very good poem, Xaious. :-) Thanks for sharing it

"Dah da-da-da, dah da-da-da, Dahn Daaaahhhnnnnnn!"

Wyvern races across the almost dragonic pirate broadcasting HQ, holding up a carboard sign that reads "And Now, the Almost Report." He collapses into his seat and clears his throat into the mic with a buzz of static, clearly hoarse from shouting the Almost Report's makeshift theme music. The overgrown lizard wipes the sweat from his scaly brow and shuffles the most recent news items through his claws, winking and grinning towards the camera.

"In today's newsssss." Wyvern's eyes widen as he looks over the sheets of paper. He raises a claw, then pulls out two similarly shaped folders labeled "Devil's Advocate" and "Extremely Important News Documents." The overgrown lizard switches them around in a flurry of mixed and matched paperwork, covering it with an awkward laugh. "*Ahem* In today's news... *AHEM*"

Wyvern waves a claw, and a small box appears in the upperhand corner of the screen, revealing the image of what appears to be a naked angel sitting in an otherwise empty playground with a pair of old sneakers tied by the laces.

"Pen members: please take note and fill out your ballets for the latest round of the Pen recommends. Ponder over the naked angel, shoe lace nest, and ghostly playground found within, and cast your votes for which of these talesss you think deserves the "Pen Recommends" seal of approval for all future spin-off products. The voting process ends February 23rd, and a good deal of votes are needed for this thing to work, so try to avoid the ever-tempting "view results/abstain" button and get in your thoughts today."

Wyvern snaps a claw, and the image in the small box is replaced by the words "Yet Another Voting Box."

"In further boring news... As if one set of votesss weren't enough, voting Pen members should be sure to mail their February Promotion votes to Ozymandias if they haven't done so yet. Deadline'ssss tommorow, so get crackin' if you wanna have a say."

Wyvern goes silent for a moment and lets out a long sigh, then slowly waves his claw until the image in the box is replaced of that of Minta staring at the ground with a disappointed expression on her face.

"Concluding this evening's broadcast on a more tragic note: pennite's gathered in mass yesterday to mourn the passing of Xaious the Master of Time (RIP)." Wyvern sniffles and turns from the camera for a moment, desperatly trying to maintain his almost dragonic composure. He coughs a bit as he turns back towards the camera, and quickly shakes his head. "Few words were spoken, but the silence was one of grieving as the Pen watched each of Xaious's ages vanish in turn. Known for his Fortune booth and knack for time period driven dates amongst other things, he shall be missssed."

Wyvern blows his snout with a tax document tissue, then raises a claw to the camera.

"By the way *sniff* if anyone can sssteal that never-dying lotus for me, I'll *sniffle* split the auction profitsss with ya 80/20!"

;-)

Wyvern snickers and applauds, envisioning a young Brute as Lone Shadow finishes reciting his poem. The reptilian Elder bows to the poet, then brushes back the fine set of scales on his own head and begins setting up a complimentary Almost Dragonic Brand Crystal Monk Head Polish™ sales booth next to Lone Shadow's podium. Wyvern scratches his chin upon viewing the rather peeved expression on Lone Shadow's face, then throws up a sign that reads "Free Almost Dragonic Brand Leftover Yeti Hair Wig™ sample for every response to 'St. Baldrick'" in the hopes of keeping the spotlight where it belongs.

;-)

Wyvern licks his lips as he scrawls the results of his test on a blank sheet of Devil's Advocate paper. He scratches it with an official almost dragonic claw mark of approval, then carefully positions his results on top of the pile in a manner that covers Canid and Geldrinhor's scores simultaneously.

Overal rusults

999

Yor Emotional IQ is absulootly the best – so high, it's like Peredil standerdz. This means that for alwayz, you can gets the feeling out in clearly inapropriate situations. You are oportunistic and pursistant, and now can offer otherz a new produkt to allow them to humble themselves in yer shadowz. You know and apreciate your talents and strongh points, but with Almost Dragonic Brand Emotional IQ Test Cheatsheets™, everyone else can pass demselves off as '999' kinda people as well! Yoo're able to manipulate yurself, and will find the enurgy and the strength nececary to manipulate others to buy thiz produkt. You are that rezilient dood who will bounce back after major drawbacks, barely survive hardship, and stil try to sell teh sheetz. Almost Dragonic Brand Emotional IQ Test Cheatsheets™ - all da answerz, half the gramar. Call now: 1-900-LONGTERMBENEFITS.

Whisky in Babylon's eyes go wide as Wyvern continues hissing extravagent possibilities, his words lost on her as the massive rubber duck wave looms closer in the background. Wyvern stops speaking when he notices the expression on her face, and twists his snout with an air of disappointment.

"Ah, ssssorry, did I overstep my bounds? Well y'know, by 'two-piece bikini modeling', I really meant you, uhhh... designing the modelsss for two pieces of bikini. Y'know, for trying on later."

Wyvern goes still and frowns when a large shadow suddenly falls over Whisk's pleasant figure. The overgrown lizard steps on his tail to wake his joints up, then takes a deep breath and turns to face the thing casting the shadow. His wings go limp as he stares up at the massive tide of rubber ducks, noting the many notorious ducks contained therein. Minta's zomduck, Gwaihir's all natural duck, Merelas's flaming magma duc(t)k, Valdar's Bubble "duck," Aardvark's quack, and countless others... all topped by Happybuddha's enormous bathtub behemoth. Big Pointy One-affiliate and parttime celebrity Toilet Duck sits at the forefront of the wave, hoisting a large duckbill flag and quacking with glee.

"OH MY..." Wyvern panics and turns towards Whisky in Babylon in the hopes of hiding behind her, only to find that she's (wisely) fled the scene. The overgrown lizard uses his almost dragonic strategic skills to quickly resort to Plan B, which consists of running around in circles while screaming at the top of his lungs. "AAAAIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!"

The sonic range of the squeakings that follow are enough to awaken the great omniverous field mouse from his sleep in the ninth layer of hell, who turns his head lazily and squeaks "Perhaps later" before drifting back to sleep.

Wyvern breaths a soft moan of satisfaction in his sleep as Wrenwind departs with a giggle, cuddling the gold nugget closer to his chest as he drifts deeper into sleep. The overgrown lizard strokes the nugget as he snoozes and smooches its surface, slowly coiling his tongue around it as dreams of kissing Wrenwind dance through his head. Wyvern's tail coils tighter around the small circumference of the tree trunk, possibly signifying Signe's entry into his reverie, and his heavily knotted tongue rolls over as he drifts to a blissful stillness.

;-)

OOC: Thank you, Wrenny. A very Happy V-Day to you as well.

Nice stuff, Geldrinhor. :-) There were a number of lines that really made me smile, with the line about putting your arms around your wife and the line about Tigerlily's fur winning the biggest grins. There was a real feeling of happiness in the tone of the poem, despite the lines about the bill-paying, and I found that refreshing. :-) The style in which you spread out the lines and seperate things through slashes also struck me as interesting... I take it you wrote this late at night, but did you have any particular intention with the way you spread things out? It gives it a sort of fragmented, dream-like feel to me, which is cool.

A few suggestions for if you choose to revise or continue this piece: the imagery and tone are well-incorporated, but the contemplations on your wife and the things that could have happened feels like a different subject than the contemplations about your pets. Obviously, if this poem consists of getting your thoughts on paper late at night, different trains of thought are only natural... but it might be interesting to try and seperate the subjects to their own poems, or perhaps add in other lines that connect the different lines of thought. Also, just nitpicking here, but "it's" should probably read "its" in the first stanza, and the final rhyme between "again" and "man" wasn't as convincing to me as the other rhymes of the poem.

Anyway, nice stuff Geldrinhor. :-) Looking forward to a continuation to this, or any other poetry of yours for that matter.

Televisions and crystal balls around the Pen black out simultaneously, replaced seconds later by extra-loud roaring bouts of static. Falcon stomps his fist on a table as his favorite anime is reduced to distortion, Tanuchan frowns as her communications with nature are interrupted by the roar of static, and Nickoli groans as his crystal ball view of pretty-looking funeral flower arrangements goes dead. The collective call for mage technicians around the Pen is interrupted as the screens suddenly flicker back on, their former images replaced with that of a well-dressed man seated in a formal newsroom.

"This is Bob Suloberrin, interrupting regular broadcasting with a special report." The famous Pen newscaster seems to speak in a hurry, drumming his fingers on his table nervously. "Take urgent note: the Pen broadcast system is under atta-"

The screens turn to static again, evoking a collective murmer of concerned pennite voices. The screens flash back on only a minute later, the newsroom now replaced with a different room. A shabbier room. A filthy, almost dragonic room."

"Greetingsss, and welcome to week two of the Almost Report." Wyvern pops his head from under the rickety wooden table, a pirate hat crowning each of his horns. "I'm your host, Wyvern Q. AlmostDragon. Hit it!"

A box appears in the center of the screen, obscuring Wyvern's face. The box depicts the gleaming visages of Whisky in Babylon, Geldrinhor, and Sora Hikari... making Wyvern ressemble a bisexual hydra of sorts.

"In current newsss, be sure to welcome our most recent participants to the Pen: Whisky, Geldrin, and Sora. The three of'em have been making their rounds, so feel free to say 'hi.' Oh, and be sure to explain the many merits of Almost Dragonic Brand February Shower Caps™ to'em if you see'em."

Wyvern nods and waves a claw in the air. The image in the box covering Wyvern's face shifts to that of an old grandfather clock, making him look like an Almost Dragonic Brand Silent Wyvern Alarm™.

"In further newsss, morbid newcomer Nickoli has been poking Xaious fans around the Pen to make funeral speeches in honor of his 'death.' Now, thossse who have been around the Pen for a minute know that Xaious easily has the ability to transport himself from the past into the future, so all this 'death' gibberish is probably just Nickoli misinformed. Still, if anyone manages to make a statement rude enough to get Xaious to transport himself to the future to deny it, they'll be a winner in my book! Closing date for praises/rants is Friday the 16th, if this lizard is not mistaken."

The box covering Wyvern's face quickly shifts images again, this time revealing a picture of an extremely mean-looking garden gnome.

"As a final reminder, pleassse give the garden gnomes the goodsss in the Mighty Pen'sss latest Roll Call if you haven't done so already. An Anti-Anti-Gnome would be a particularly good gift at thisss point, especially if we want the garden gnomes to savor the riches they've been endowed with thus far. The gift-gathering will last through March, but don't be expecting a new newsss reminder every week!"

With that, Wyvern strikes a quick bow towards the camera, only to glance towards a screen and notice the position of the picture box in relation to his head. The lizard inches to the right and lets out a nervous laugh as he waves goodbye to the camera. The box seems to follow his snout across the screen.

"And now, back to your regularly scheduled Pen programming *achEM!*"

Wyvern prances into the Cabaret Room with his snout in the air, echoes of Patrick's "geld" statement still resonating in his head. The overgrown lizard frowns when he finds no visible shiny metals in sight, but perks up as he notices Whisky in Babylon parleying with a certain Pen portrait. Wyv clears his throat of a few ashes and curves his wings back, then wanders up to the new girl and extends a claw.

"My reputation precedesss me." Wyvern strikes a quick bow, his horns narrowly missing Whisky in Babylon's head. "Wyvern, at your service."

"Oh yeah, you gotta watch out for this Wyvern guy." The Portrait of Zool laughs from his position and slings his chicken over the other shoulder. "When he's not trying to involve you in a scheme, he'll be trying to sneek a peek at your *murrfle murrfle murfle murfle*"

Wyvern sneers a toothy grin and winks as he leans a claw back against Zool's portrait... more specifically, the facial regions of the artwork.

"Ssssooo I hear you're big into artwork and acting." Wyvern's serpent tongue flicks in and out as he speaks. "Well, it just so happens I have this project I'm working on that you might find verrrry interesting. Almost Dragonic Brand Laziness Lager™ - a sleeping formula for insomniac trolls. Stuff's so boring, it'll put'em right to sleep."

Whisky in Babylon casts nervous glances to the other pennites in the Cabaret Room as Wyvern lifts his available claw to try to frame her face, his other claw still occupied with "framing" Zool's mouth.

"Well, I figure with your art design expertise, your brilliant commercial acting, and your appropriate nick, you'd be a no-brainer for marketing this product." Wyvern's tail sways back and forth as he looks her over from head to toe. "Ssstrictly unpaid, of courssse, internship-style. Waddaya say, Whisk? Can I call ya Whisk?"

;-)

Wyvern scoops up the bottle of mead, along with a tankard of Bruteweiser, a booze-nut dispensor, a jumbo-sized chugging mug, and an Almost Dragonic Brand Barfly Swatter™. The overgrown lizard hobbles forward, barely managing to balance the pile of drinking utensils in his claws as he shoves them into Geldrinhor's arms. Wyvern slips a bartab into the towering pile, then grabs Geldrinhor by the shoulder and begins directing him towards the Recruiter's Office. The leaning tower of booze items sways left and right as Geldrinhor desperatly tries to maintain his balance, swerving with each of Wyvern's hasty tugs.

"Ssssoooo Geldrinhor, 20 years of Cabin solitude eh?" Wyvern turns a corner, causing Geldrinhor to stumble a bit and catch the swatter in a close save. "I forget, where in the nine hells are the solitary cabins located? The sssecond ring?"

"Well, uhhh..." Geldrinhor grits his teeth and clings to the booze accessories tighter as Wyvern picks up his pace. "I wasn't exactly living in the nine he-"

"You'll sssimply have to tell me about the first ring, I hear the succubi there really put an emphasis on 'succ.'" Wyvern sneers and nudges Geldrinhor with a scaly shoulder, causing the items in his arms to shake. The lizard comes to a halt next to the closed door of the Recruiter's Office and grumbles something under his breath, waving a claw towards it. "Ssshoot, I just remembered something. Why don't you step right into the Office, the door should be unlocked. I gotta go, will be back in a minute."

Geldrinhor tries to raise a hand to speak, only to find that both of his hands are occupied with the tower of booze accessories. He frowns as he watches Wyvern scurry down the hall and disappear from sight, and his frown deepens when he glances from the items in his arms to the closed door. Geldrinhor inches forward, shifting most of the weight of the items to his left as he tries in vain to raise his fingers to the height of the doorknob. The olden bard of Terra breaths a sigh of relief when the door opens of its own accord, escorting him into the room with what sounds like a grainy "Welcome."

Geldrinhor raises a brow as he looks over the hapazard state of Wyvern's Office, minding his feet amidst the paperwork, candy wrappers, discarded schemes and dirty magazines that coat the floor. The former Legionnaire brightens upon seeing a spot where he might be able to dump the booze items, but freezes and frowns when Wyvern comes falling through the open Office window.

"Sssorry for the wait." Wyvern pants and wipes some sweat from his brow, sitting in the spot where Geldrinhor was hoping to ditch the tower of items. The reptilian Elder looks over Geldrinhor's application with a smirk. "Nice to see ya around. I'm afraid I must inform you that the Terra of old is no more, but here's hoping that the Pen can offer you all the mythic good times of Terra and the nine hells combined!"

With that, Wyvern stamps Geldrinhor's application ACCEPTED and places it on top of the pile of items in Geldrinhor's arms. Geldrinhor grimaces as the single sheet throws off the balance of the entire tower, causing it to slowly topple over in his direction...

;-)

OOC: An ACCEPTED application Geldrinhor, welcome to the Mighty Pen! It's nice to see you around,. I hope that you enjoy your extended stay at the Pen.

So today, after about a year of anticipation and several months of frustration over its limited distribution, I went out and saw David Lynch's new sprawling three-hour epic, "Inland Empire," in its first showing at a theatre in Berkeley.

As most David Lynch fans know, first impressions are not usually the best way to judge his movies... it can often take two or three viewings to piece together a semblence of coherence in his reoccuring details, let alone establish any sort of element of plot. If there's one adjective I can definitely attribute to "Inland Empire," it's "uncompromising." David Lynch certainly isn't making things any more comfortable or simple to understand for the viewer... if anything, he's moving deeper into his dream psyche and evoking subconscious emotions through abstractions. Like his other films, "Inland Empire" plays out like a bad dream put on screen; fragmented, frightening, and bizarre to the core. Never has Lynch's independent aesthetic been so clear... he filmed "Inland Empire" on Digital Video without the use of film reel and did a great deal of the camera work himself. He also directed the film, made a guest appearence as a voice actor, and even sung two of the songs on its ominous soundtrack.

To give a brief summary of the film's initial premise for a plot (I have yet to decide if it's a true element of the plot or not, so it won't be much of a spoiler): Laura Dern plays a wealthy actress who hopes to save her declining career by co-starring in a movie titled "On High in Blue Tommorows," which stars a popular actor Devon (played by Justin Theroux) who seems to also have a reputation as a womanizer. As they begin to act out the film, they learn from the director that it's a re-make of a Polish film titled "4/7," which was never completed due to the lead actors being murdered. But just as we're fooled into a sense of linearity, things begin spiraling out of control. One setting leads to another, which leads to another, which leads to another. Characters assume multiple identities in different time frames. The line between reality, hallucination, and film is permanently blurred. And when the 180 minutes reach their close, there is no explanation... only reoccuring details and associations to contemplate. David Lynch has struck again.

As a big fan of Lynch's work, my first impression of "Inland Empire" is a very favorable one. As always, Lynch's dream-style seems to touch nerves and thoughts that I would never have believed a film could reach. It frightens, saddens, humors, and mystifies in a powerful way. Laura Dern, who is an underrated actress in general, delivers an absolutely spectacular performance, perhaps the best I've ever seen from her. The variety of roles/personalities/time frames/identities/whatever-they-were she had to play must have been a real challenge, but she really stepped up to the plate and delivered. Her facial expressions alone were very powerful and evocative. Also, while David Lynch's new form of camera work may inspire some dread for the first fifteen minutes (Digital Video has a real "home video camera" feel to it), it eventually sinks in and is really incorporated well. There are points where Lynch even uses the blurry pixels to his advantage, making them radiate on thick canvases of color. I'm already planning on seeing the movie again at some point, with a couple of details and characters in mind.

A few words of warning to those uninitiated to David Lynch's abstract cinema: this film's three hour duration will frequently test your patience, and there's no easy answer or explanation to it after it ends. David Lynch's nightmares on screen are also often very troubling things to behold, and he remains one of the only directors really capable of scaring me with his endless sense of dread.

So, all in all, I'm very pleased with how "Inland Empire" turned out. :-) If you've been as bored with current films as I have, and don't mind some mindboggling imagery and abstractions, you'll definitely want to give this one a try. Oh, and if you do end up seeing it, please tell me since I'd love to chat with you about it here! :-)

On a different note, thank you for the review of "Pan's Labryinth," Whisky in Babylon. :-) That film has definitely piqued my curiousity as well, good to hear that it lived up to your expectations. I'll definitely have to check it out at some point when it's playing around here. As for "Eragon," I didn't bother checking for it, nor did I bother reading the book, nor will I bother renting it on DVD. I think once I had to watch a coming attraction for it, but I only made it about halfway through before my brain decided to block out the rest of the ad.

Wyvern observes Nickoli and his gloomy posse from the comfort of the Cabaret Room, sipping on a warm Bruteweiser Boston Party Tea and shivering at the sound of the pattering rain. The lizard flicks his tail back and forth as he slants his snout closer to the window, squinting at the three Almost Dragonic Brand Second-hand Sturdy Steed™ look-alikes. He scratches his chin as the words of Nickoli trail in the back of his mind, partially lost to the crackle of the fire and the contemplation that the old cart might be a marketable antique.

"Hmph." Wyvern shuts his eyes and slowly sips from his mug, trying to block an association from his mind. "Well, I hope thisss Nickoli fellow ain't related to Madame Quixoti-"

Wyvern jumps in his seat and drops his Boston Party Tea as Nickoli's agonizing scream echoes throughout the Courtyard and quarters of the Pen, loud enough to wake the dead. Wyvern curses wildly once the cry has died down, brushing down his sensitive scales and sweeping part of his shattered mug with his tail. The overgrown lizard stomps his foot on the ground and shakes a fist, shouting through the closed window pane.

"Can you turn down the mourning volume a bit?! Geeze!" Wyvern throws his claws in the air, then turns in a huff to find himself another drink. "What a reptilian schemer wouldn't give for a little peaceful drinking time around here..."

Wyvern shakes his head as he walks into the hall in search of booze, only to pause as his slow-moving brain begins to piece Nickoli's words together. A sad day for Time. Wyvern stands still, frozen in the hall as a chill passes down his spine. an ancient black carriage of wood with silken black curtains. Wyvern's wings droop in a near-stupefied state. A great friend of mine recently came to me... he tells me you all knew him as Xaious. Wyvern's eyes go wide and glassy. I'm afraid I bring news of a less than pleasant nature on this evening. In this carriage rests a coffin.

"Oh dear God..." Wyvern speaks before the scream is repeated in his head, raising a claw to his mouth as he sheds a crocodile tear. "No... no, it can't be true. It's not possible, not now, not so late after... Yet somehow, I feel it. I sense it, in the air. It mussst be."

Wyvern leans against the wall and lets out a single sob, slamming a claw and shredding the wallpaper a bit.

"Oh GOD, I knew I should have buried my Office's first Godfather Clock when it got destroyed... it was bound to be picked up by some grief-stricken Mahogoni Closet fanatic and brought back here. Oh why, WHY didn't I cremate it like Woody told me too?!" Wyvern sniffles, then snaps a claw. "Go figure that Xaious should be the one to tell this Nickoli guy about it, that Time Master owes me one! Next time I see'im, I gonna tell him to go back in time and bury that dang clock after it gets wrecked. Hrmph!"

I really like this story so far, Kikuyu. :-) The backstory involving the destruction of Vincent's village and the agonizing death of Laura is definitely the backbone of the piece, as the way it haunts Vincent throughout the story really gives him a history that the reader can sympathize with. I think the way you start the story off with the flaming wreck of his village is fantastic, and I also find your continual plot twists very entertaining to read. The cast of supporting characters is nice as well, with Myrn and Kida (he died in the Tower explosion, I take it??? ) standing out to me in particular. I also really like the way you paint vivid high fantasy settings and locations, as the places Vincent wanders always feel like their brimming with wonderous details (the magic forest bits actually remind me somewhat of Degorram's "Ire" story, so if you haven't read that I'd recommend checking it out!). The combination of technology and magic in the villain also intrigues me, and I'm looking forward to seeing what Vincent and Ander are up against in the thrilling continuation. ^_-

In terms of possible things to improve: Vincent's attachments to new characters seem to happen a little too quickly for my tastes, mainly due to the story's very rapid timeframe. In the course of one day, Vincent meets everyone at the tower of Mythics, tests his skills with them, takes Dos's class, and then loses them that evening to the destructive storm. Vincent's concern over Laura feels a bit unrealistic to me given the very short time he's seen or spoken to her, and you might consider extending Vincent's stay at the Tower a bit longer before it blows up, whether it be through a few more scenes or just a few sentences stating how long he stays and trains there. Also, while Rufus was certainly an interesting character, it almost felt to me like he was from a different story and setting... the way he talked and carried himself felt a lot more like medieval fantasy than it did modern day mythics. Still, the amalgam of styles does make for an entertaining read... "a creature who looked like it had just jumped out of one of the fantasy novels his daughter had so loved" indeed!

Good stuff, Kikuyu. :-) Thanks for sharing it with us here.

I'm not sure if this was intended as an Aardvark-style vignette or as the beginning of a longer story, but it's very interesting stuff either way Quincunx. :-) The whole concept of plants growing bullets is fascinating, as is the thought of the culture that comes about when ammunition and firearms are so commonplace. I really like the way you show Lily and Adam playing the "target" game, as it feels somewhat unnerving while still maintaining a kind of innocence in the way they play it out. Very nice use of adverbs with "friendly handful of ammunition," by the way.

Out of curiousity (and anyone can answer this), does grease-paper actually exist or is it a material you made up for this setting? It gives off an ugly feel, either way. The applecores at the end are kind of an interesting touch, though they keep making me think "The Anti Johnny Appleseed" for some reason (I hope they don't have anything to do with the name Adam, anyway).

Anyhow, nice stuff. :-) Just thought I'd show my appreciation for it here.

The sound of a needle scratching a record is followed by a slightly off-kilter newsroom trumpet medley. The cameras pan around the news HQ of such celebrities as Kassie Kurazy and Bob Suloberrin, only to veer off to the left to land their lenses on the far less professional news quarters of Wyvern Q. AlmostDragon. The overgrown lizard swivels in his wooden stool until his wings and tail stinger face the camera. He clears his throat loudly as the news medley record begins skipping.

"Good evening to the Mighty Pen." Wyvern pauses as the medley record screeches to a halt. His wings freeze up as the troglyodyte in charge of the program's text runs within camera range, holding up a text sign that has the words "YOU'RE FACING THE WRONG WAY" scrawled over it. Wyvern does a 180 on his stool with a nervous laugh. "G-g-good evening. *ahem* Welcome to the Almost Report, your weekly sssource for non-stop Pen news, shameless almost dragonic plugs, and occasional troll knock-knock jokes. Brought to you by Almost Dragonic Brand Emergency News Stools™ - when it comes between sitting or standing, use the stool (or stand, if you want to avoid back cramps)."

Wyvern shuffles some paperwork between his claws, shredding it as a box appears in the upper-righthand corner of the screen. The box shows a close-up image of Zool with an exceptionally ugly and distraught expression on his face as he's tossed out of the Pen's Courtyard by force.

"In current newsss, Garden Gnome Recreations are the talk of the Pen as pennites everywhere contribute items and sign their name on the most recent Roll Call list. Visit the gnomes and drop off an item to make them feel at home, then stick around for the weenie refreshments afterwards."

The box with Zool's image fades away, only to be replaced by a box showing Patrick's face surrounded by news cameras.

"In other headlinesss, news of the new guilds has surfaced. General guild-honcho Patrick Durham refrained to comment when questioned about the guilds, but offered his hand in retrieving any writing previously available in their archives. Though details are sketchy at best, we now bring you live to the site of the Temporary Dumps, where activity has begun to take shape. Trog?"

The box in the corner of the screen goes static for a moment, then shows live camera footage of a lizardman standing on top of a pile of words in the Dump. The reporter raises a microphone to his mouth to speak, only to be crushed by a new load in mid-dump. The box promptly flips back to the picture of Patrick.

"Eheheheh. Heh."

Wyvern snaps a claw several times until the image of Patrick in the box fades away. The picture is replaced by an image of Canid, who appears to be surrounded by the exact same cameras that Patrick was dealing with in his picture.

"Wrapping up thisss evenings headlinesss, Minstrel Hall dwellers should look into Canid's recent Pen history discussion to offer their insight. The ominous debate continues to loom: will the history be recited orally as a series of enactments to the Pen public, or will it be presented in pamphlet form? Only time will tell."

Wyvern tosses shreds of his news briefs up like confetti and dusts off his claws.

"That'sss about it for this evening. Oh, but before I forget..." Wyvern reaches up to the box in the upper-righthand corner and grabs it, removing the cameras from Canid's picture and revealing a frame with cameras drawn on it. "Almost Dragonic Brand Popularazzi Picture Frames™ - get'em before your face ends up surrounded by cameras on the news!"

;-)

Today, I went and saw "The Last King of Scotland" in theatres.

This film about Idi Amin, Uganda's most ruthless and selfish dictator, has been getting some pretty mixed reviews from the press, though Forest Whitiker's performance as Amin has gotten universal acclaim. I was a fan of Whitiker in Jarmusch's "Ghost Dog," so I was eager to give this movie a shot and see what all the hype was about. Anyway, "The Last King of Scotland" is certainly a good movie in my eyes, though not a great one. The film is loaded with exotic imagery, ranging from eye candy to horrendous brutality, and the images are certainly effective... but the way the movie flashes from one image and event to the next gave it a kind of rushed feel to me, like some sort of chaotic dream that's racing to its end. I think a dream-like quality was intended for the film since the protagonist, a Scottish doctor named Nicholas, is in the midst of a great adventure in the heart of a culture that's unknown to him. Still, I felt that the director could have relied upon dialogue and extended scenes a little bit more, as the film felt sort of speedy and fragmented to me. Forest Whitiker pretty much lived up to the hype though... he manages to strike an excellent balance between charmer and madman in his portrayal of Idi Amin, a mix that leaves Amin a frighteningly unbalanced figure by the end. Certainly worth checking out for Forest Whitiker's performance, though be warned - it's a heavy flick with some fairly gruesome imagery in it.