Wyvern

OOC: to be posted in segments... This story takes place in the setting of Lymnor's Wake, which is given a brief run down in this thread. IC: The pavement of the square seemed to sizzle. Summer's lazy rain had turned to vapor, and bare feet circled through the dry dirt behind market tents, not nearing an inch of the cracked stone. Clef Forguun watched the boots that passed over the hotbed with distant eyes, puckering his lips and shifting a long grain of wheat between his teeth. He leaned back on the side of the dead fountain, craning his neck down far enough to catch a few drops of what remained at the fountain's pit with his rough blond curls. "... or just a leather, like that." Clef stared up at the silent fountain in a daze. A thousand open mouths, and not a single drop of spit. He sometimes wondered if they were built to laugh themselves an Ocean, or cry themselves a wishing well. If only they cried a wishing well. He knew what wafted from them open maws in this weather... couple gnats, and that cloudy dust of dried-up hope. Just waiting to catch a breeze and vanish under a hazy wave of heat. "Horsehide, that. Not bad either." Clef sat upright and wiggled his bare toes, not minding the heat of the stone on his sores and blisters. The long sleeves of his old shirt were grey with dirt, and the grain between his teeth tasted like seven days in the Eyrus Desert. The tip of the pitchfork at his side didn't glint or sparkle under the Sun, it just sat there like the tool that it was. "Or that. What do you think, Clef?" "Hmm?" Clef turned his attention to Derg, who sat next to him on the fountain rim. He was eating a turkey leg and wiping the grease onto his sleeve, though his city sleeves certainly seemed able to afford it. He was shorter and plumper than Clef, with one eye slightly larger than the other, and a tuft of hair behind his left ear that never seemed to stay on one place. "You haven't heard a word, have you?" Derg stretched his tongue to lick a bit of turkey fat from his cheek. "You haven't even been checking the boots." "Told ya, Derg." Clef flicked the grain from his mouth and watched it drift to the pavement. "I can't be affordin' no new boots, not this month. Or next, I reckon. Just fix up them old ones, I'll pay you back with the new seed when it comes in full." "Clef." Derg stared towards Clef with eyes that verged on disbelief. He lifted Clef's former boots, the cheap leather torn with holes large enough to lose lesser feet, muddied with blisters and spotted with bramble and thorns. Clef sighed and raised a hand to his brow as Derg dangled the dirty rags of leather in front of him. "There are some things not even the Miracle Tailor of Weeslar can fix." Derg tossed the torn boots into the fountain pit. "Look, I'm not seeing you off barefoot with the trip you have to make. You can borrow a pair of cheap leathers and pay me back for'em later." "Wait on it, I'll be hangin' round this evening." Clef brushed a hand over his sunburnt forehead. The heat of the pavement seemed to lift around him, causing the Weeslar market to shimmer in curves. "Reckon pops wouldn't let me in without that oxen he was wishin' for. Lym' be gone if there ain't a single oxen in Weesler up fer sale on a fine Summer day. Must be them damn feast-mongers up East." Clef watched as Derg lifted the turkey leg for another bite. He flicked out his lithe fingers and caught a small spider crawling up the bone's length of the meat, only to raise it in front of Derg's face and crush it with a flick of his fingers. Clef struck a smug smirk and whistled to himself as Derg frowned and carefully examined the leg. When they'd mock-jousted with branches as kids, Clef had rarely lost a run... though he'd always chosen the better branch to begin with, the one with more width and gnarled edges. Eighteen years later, and he had to admire Derg for not being fed up with the little competitions. "Don't s'pose I could crash on yer rug?" "Still room in the furnace, I think." Derg and Clef exchanged glances, then laughed. "Come on, grab your damn pitchfork. Taste-testing the homebrewn market ale is free."

reverie, Before trying to answer to your call for grammar, I just want to note that there are certain poems that work better without it, and that a strict adherence to grammar is not a necessity of every poem. Of course, if an author decides not to include grammar in their poetry, there should be a reason behind it, be it an underlying theme or a specific tone they want to convey. Just wanted to throw that comment out there to say that none of the following rules are set in stone. First grammatical point for your poem: the beginning of a line should not be capitalized unless it starts a new sentence in a poem, or is done for a specific artistic purpose. This detail can be rather annoying since, in Microsoft Word, indenting lines automatically turns the first to a capital, and you have go back to turn them lowercase. So, to quote the first stanza of your poem: ... can be adjusted to... Second grammatical point for the poem: when reading through your poem, ignore the line breaks for a moment and base the pauses on the sentence structure of the work, as you would prose. Line breaks often do create a pausing effect and add to the poem, but there are instances where you might feel that more grammatical punctuation is needed to steady the rhythm. One potential example of this might be the second stanza of the poem: Grammatically speaking, this stanza reads as one long run-on sentence. This might be an effect you wish to give to the reader, with everything rushing by speedily as the memories of the accident surface. However, the lack of breaks can be confusing when read as a whole (think "And my scars too well hid the morticians tried to rebuild your face"), and you might want to offer more punctuation for a smoother read. Here's an example of one potential approach: On a non-grammatical note, you may consider dropping "ample applications of" from the final line of this stanza, as it seems a bit wordy and doesn't really add to the meaning of the line. Similar can be said for "And am bothered" in the first stanza, which might be dropped since the bother is shown to the reader in the next line. Anyway, these are just a few grammatical points to a much larger work, but I hope they help some. :-) For the record, I really like the direction that your poetry has developed in, and definitely feel that it has more of a focus now. I really enjoyed this poem, and hope that your class does as well. Happy Birthday, by the way, :-) Wyv~

Wyvern zips into the Cabaret Room and slings the bulging sack that he carries from one shoulder to the other, ignoring the pulse of the bag's fabric as it fidgets and rams itself against him. The lizard grits his teeth and glances left and right, then perks up and waves a claw when he notices the disheveled, feather-happy sight that is Gryphon. "Geeeze Gryphon, you alright?" Wyvern approaches the wet birthday bird with a bout of obnoxious laughter. "Saw you run in here looking like a spook... Melba didn't try to wear those whale-net leggingsss she was threatening to buy, I hope?" Gryphon shakes his head in dismal jerks as Ayshela runs a towel over it. "Good." Wyvern lifts his sack with a grunt and holds it in front Gryphon. The feathered herald lifts a brow as he watches the bag move left and right. "Well, I overheard the whole CheerMynxxx thing, and decided that this gift would probably be appropriate. Feassst yer eyes on this!" Wyvern turns the sack upsidedown and a goblin falls out, causing Gryphon and Ayshela to jump back. The ugly humanoid is tied down in rope and a gag, and seems to be wearing the junkyard equivalent of a business suit; leftover rags from a troll banquet napkin and a necklace of baby troglyodyte teeth. Wyvern carefully approaches the goblin as it flails left and right on the ground, then removes its gag with the flick of a claw. "I'llsueI'llsueI'llsueI'llsue!" Gryphon stares at the loudmouth goblin in distaste, then turns his eyes to Wyvern. "What... is this?" "Some goblin lawyer that tried to charge me a few geld." Wyvern stares in both directions, then lifts a claw and whispers in Gryphon's ear. "You might be needing it, for the inevitable racial lawsuit that'll arissse from this 'all white Herald' situation." ;-p OOC: A Happy Birthday to you, Gryphon. :-)

Interesting poem, Broken Inside. I really like how you strung the fear of breaking things throughout the poem, only to reveal that the narrator already feels an unknown "broken-ness" at the end. Fear seemed to be a very pertinent element of the poem, and I like how you conveyed it through the third stanza about screaming. The pairing of echoes and yelling back seemed to strike a chord with me. The tone and language of this poem strike me as a bit confused, as at times it felt like you were aiming for something casual and conversational (ex: "If there's anyone here anyways," "Way too scared to move") while at others it felt more formal to me (ex: "how can I know my limits/ if I never test them," "the unknown broken-ness"). You might consider choosing one of these approaches and stringing the language of that approach throughout the poem for more consistancy. Also, while I liked the manner that you repeated the fear of breaking things throughout the poem, be careful to not repeat ideas and to offer something new to the reader with each repetition. For example, the repetition of breaking things works well in the fifth stanza, as we're offered the new idea that the narrator doesn't want to look back on all that he's broke. On the other hand, in the fourth stanza, the line "But I don't want to break anything" doesn't work as effectively, as it just repeats the idea that the narrator is afraid of breaking things, which the reader already knows from the second stanza ("What if something breaks"). Anyway, thanks for sharing this. :-) I hope these comments help.

Good poem, dragonqueen. :-) I really liked the image of the candy paste of lies sealing the cracks in the narrator's world, and found the shame of the narrator's identity very well-conveyed. As I read through this, I was questioning the number of metaphors that were used for "lie," but I loved how you tied everything together with the lines "So many metaphors, so many analogies/ What lie do I tell today?" The self-conscious tone of these lines really struck me, and the extensive use of metaphors throughout the poem made a lot more sense in its context. While I felt that many of the questions posed in this poem were strong, the questions that recieved answers from the narrator could simply be dropped and left as the answers alone for more succinctness. Also, rather than tagging honest with the adverb "disgustingly" in line 10, you might want to give some example of the narrator's vile use of honesty. Well done, once again. :-) Thanks for sharing this.

Very good poem, Regel. :-) I really like how condensed and succinct it is, and think that it drives across the thought and emotion of its moment in time very well. I thought the closing line was particularly well-chosen, as it summed up the emotion of the poem in a powerful manner and seemed to echo through its rhyme scheme with "stone." The second and fourth lines of the poem were not as strong to me, as I found the clearing of the food somewhat irrelevent while the "Reticent mood" felt like telling on behalf of the narrator. You might consider offering some specific instance of the man's discreet state in its place, though I wouldn't recommend dropping the lines altogether as the poem reads very smoothly with seven lines. One thing that I really like about your poetry in general is that it always strikes me as very personal, with a strong emotional base. This poem is no exception. Well done, once again. :-)

"Uuuggghhhhh..." Wyvern nudges one eyelid open and moves a claw to his stomach, brushing away a layer of wet rain and still experiencing the sting of heartburn under his aching chest. The overgrown lizard shakes his head in a dizzy manner and leans back on the wooden seat where he rests, ignoring his surroundings as he rubs a claw over the rain-slick scales of his forehead. "Mr. Wyvern?" Wyvern grunts and coughs up a bit of wet ash, then slowly reaches into his pocket. He pulls out a miniature crystal ball and holds it to his face, cringing at the bright glare that seems to surround Ferrang's ugly mug. "Boss?" "Y-yeah." Wyvern shakes away another bout of dizziness. "Wuzzit?" "What do ya want us to do boss?" Ferrang raises one scaly hand to his maw and bites away at his finger nails on the other end of the line. "The tree lover guy is questionin' Scaleeroy, and he still out cold!" "Ah geeze." Wyvern slouches over and grumbles. "Well, that tree branch new recruit gal knocked'im out, so don't you tell her to explai-" "Morneanna, he has awakened." Wyvern lifts his head at the sound of the angelic voice, and drops his crystal ball at the sight of Lividya standing at the corner of the room. The lizard's eyes immediately widen, and he freezes up straight in his seat, noticing her body before her large wings enter his line of sight. His beady eyes ignore the large bookshelf that Lividya stands next to as they focus on her own "voluminous tomes," and the lizard's forked tongue rolls out of his mouth as he notices the generous waist chord extended around the angel's simple uniform. "Wh-wha-?" Wyvern raises a claw to his now-bloody nose as thoughts of the wind caressing Lividya's feathers sail through his almost dragonic mind. "I-errr, I mean uhhh-"

I ended up watching a string of Oscar-related movies recently that I considered very average and overrated, though the most recent film I watched thankfully stood up to the hype. Some new reviews: "The Constant Gardner" - This film had an interesting approach to the spy genre and was pretty original in its choices of settings and scenarios, but felt fragmented and a little directionless to me. The acting was pretty good and the international scenery was nice, but the obvious sense of futility in the missions of the characters somehow sucked the excitement out of it for me. I thought it had a nice message about America's exploitation of Africa, but overall it was a very average film in my opinion. "Walk the Line" - I watched this without expecting anything great, and found my low expectations fufilled. The trouble with these Hollywood blockbuster "life of the music hero" films is that they all seem to play out the same. The mean/strict family in childhood, the love interest, the arrogance of fame, and (most irritably) the long hard drug addictions. Make Johnny Cash blind and black, change his guitar to a piano, and you'd have "Ray" (which I also wasn't a big fan of). The most disappointing element of the film to me is that it was advertised as being based on Cash's famous Folsom prison performance, but only spent around 5 minutes on it in the film. One thing that I will say in favor of this movie, though, is that Reese Witherspoone actually does a great job as June Carter... those expecting to see her in her typical "dumb blond" role might be surprised by her acting in this. "Goodnight, and Good Luck" - This film was also pretty disappointing to me. The premise of the film is very intriguing, but outside of the historical context of McCarthyism, I didn't find it very gripping. I liked the black and white documentary style that George Clooney decided to use, as well as the historical clips interspersed throughout it, but thought that it had a very narrow viewpoint by using only the newsroom and became rather repetitive in the broadcasts. I was hoping they might spend more time on the personal lives of the characters, or on how McCarthyism was bred off of the fear of the American public, but didn''t feel that those issues were dealt with. "Brokeback Mountain" - This one definitely lived up to the hype, in my book. :-) Fabulous movie! I agree with Zool that the screenplay was excellent, and would also add that the cinematography of Wyoming was outstanding. See this in the theatre if you can to experience the full effect. I also agree with Annael that Jake Gyllenhall ("Donnie Darko," anyone?!) did a fantastic job in his role, as did the other actors. One thing I really appreciate about this movie is that the issues that it raises were dealt with in a very subtle and profound way thanks to the script, unlike the blunt emphasis placed on theme in something like "Crash" (which is still a great movie). I highly recommend this one.

Wyvern pokes at the door of Tamaranis' tomb with an Almost Dragonic Brand Petrified Bat Wing Comb™. He freezes as the moldy wood creaks open an inch, then ditches the Celes Crusador Cafe steak and onion sandwich he had been eating and tip toes in. The smell of dried blood erases what little remains of the lizard's appetite, hitting him like a ton of Almost Dragonic Brand Un-Genuine Oscar Wilde Blood Vials™. Wyvern pauses as something scurries across a floor crack, and tugs at the collar of his tunic as he squints through the darkness of the rune walls. "T-Tamaranisss?" Wyvern shivers as a cold draft seems to blow through the chamber. He drops off a basket holding half a ton of Almost Dragonic Brand Un-Genuine Oscar Wilde Blood Vials™, and scoots it over the floor with a foot. "Happy Birthday. They've been aging next to the 1787 Chateau d'Yquem in Orlan's wine cellar, just don't tell'im I put'em there." Wyvern twitches as a tiny spider drops on a thread within an inch of his snout, and takes a step back. "Wellll, I don't want to disturb your ssslumber, so I'll just be-" Wyvern turns, only to jump as he finds a silouhetted figure standing at the entrance of the tomb. He grimaces as he notices his steak and onion sandwich clutched in one of the figure's hands... OOC: Happy Birthday, Tamaranis. ;-)

Zadown, I read through "Excision" today, and thought it was excellent. I was actually surprised at how exciting and fast-paced a read it was, as it initially seemed long but was over before I knew it. I really liked the various interactions between the characters in this, especially in the scene where Faaye arrives and displays her scars to the Dreamer. I also really liked how you characterized Marchello in the more casual setting of his academy, as it definitely created sympathy for his character and offered some new dimensions to his role in the grand scheme of things. The final fight with Palgrave and his extending staff was very exciting, and the ultimate failure of Zadown's ambush was definitely a big surprise to me after all the work he put into setting it up. Oh, and the Dreamer was his bad-ass self as usual, of course... I loved the moment when he told the portal-guard "I may be short on angels, fool, yet fail t' answer me properly this once an' I'll be one more archangel short." Classic piece of Dreamer dialogue right there. ;-) I must admit, I was a bit surprised at his decision to kill one of the mage students as an example, since we've seen him refrain from unecessary deaths in past stories, but the mercilessness certainly fits with his character. I also liked how the Dreamer decided to give away the blue flame at the end of the story, as his statement about its grief seemed to resonate with wisdom. While the jumps in the narrative were very good for the most, I was uncertain of the role that the first post played in the story, with the Dreamer creating the pathway through the lava to the Fortress Syvkiv. Also, there were one or two awkward moments of adverbs following adverbs, such as "seemingly aimlessly" near the beginning of the sixth post. Still, that's just nitpicking over an otherwise excellent story. :-) Great stuff, Zadown! Sorry that it's taken me so long to get to it.

Great poem, Sweetcherrie. :-) I really like the structure of this piece, as it seems to gradually build up to its powerful and disturbing close. The last two stanzas of the poem work very effectively, particularly in light of the sense of denial in the first stanza. I also like the wording of this poem, as it's very concise and no words seem unecessary or wasted. The one point of this poem that strikes me as awkward after multiple reads is the underlining of "Allow" in the first stanza. The emphasis on the word is nice, but you might consider a different means of emphasizing it, such as italics or a line break in the stanza. Also, out of curiousity, is the word "black" intended in the fourth stanza, or should that read "back"? Very well done, once again. :-) Thank you for sharing this.

The ones you grew admiring once admired. Aged on, now stand still, statues of idols holding idols. Those poses you longed to touch; built above your reach on first cement. The substitute: an idol to grip when you pose above the thousand outstretched arms of an era.

Wyvern's eyes widen in a transfixed state of happiness as they read over the gold letters of the black banner for the seventh time, the full extent of the pennite well-wishes slowly registering in his almost dragonic noggin. His claws feverishly tear away at the ugly white wrapping paper of Zadown's super-generous donation, and he flashes wide grins at the planeswalker and Gyrfalcon for their respective fundings. A butterfly lands on the lizard's snout and drops a geld piece there, causing Wyv to go cross-eyed for a moment before it circles his head and flies away in graceful motions. The lizard carefully slips the Seed of Etz haKesef into his pouch between geld counts, nodding and flashing an excited smile in the direction of Evangeline. "th-thank you." Wyvern's voice comes out as a timid squeak, and he tries to cough it off, unsuccessfully. "everyone." Wyvern raises his forked tongue to his cheek as he considers three-dimensional art mediums as a potential paint postal service. He licks a spot of chocolate from his scales, revealing a fading blush that remains from Mynx and Sweet's respective licks. The blush suddenly deepens ten-fold as a seductive female voice whispers something into his ear about how Wyvern taste-testing could be taken to the next level. Wyvern seems to melt before the spectators in wavey motions as he considers the statement, and he collapses upon a bed of flowers in bloom that break his fall. :-) OOC: Thank you for the birthday wishes, everybody. :-) Reading over what people post here has become one of my B-day highlights over the years, and I just want you all to know that your words mean a lot to me. I really appreciate the kind thoughts and creativity... thank you, once again. *Hugs to all*

Wyvern races into the Recruiter's Office upon hearing word of Degorram's application, skipping in gleeful claps and grinning from horn to horn. Degorram curls her tail between her legs as Wyvern begins prancing around her in circles. She clutches her application story close to her chest as the lizard pokes her left and right. "Gold? Platinum? Ssssilver? Titanium?" Wyvern comes to a halt and jumps up and down in place like an overzealous Orlan groupie. "Let me see let me see let me see!" "Uhhh." Degorram frowns, then brushes a hand over her story to smooth it out. "I-I just have this." "An letter of acknowledgement that you've joined the 'I Wyvern' cult?!" Wyvern snatches up the application piece and holds it in front of himself with trembling claws. The claws gradually steady themselves as his eyes read over the first few sentences of the story, and he glances over the sheet towards Degorram for a moment. "Hmmm... Gwaihir didn't happen to passs by the Office, did he?" Degorram's ears droop slightly. "That works O.K as an application, doesn't it?" Wyvern scratches his chin, then glances over the dimensions of the sheet of paper for a moment and smiles. "Well, I do suppossse it could be used to make a paper mache of a muscular Wyvern idol. But I thought I specified precious meta-" "Errrr." Degorram narrows her almond eyes and steps forward. "Actually, that's a story." "Oh." Wyvern glances again at the page he was about to tear in half and slaps his scaly forehead. "Right, lemme read over this and I'll get back to you in a sec." Degorram lets her tail back out from between her legs and loosens her shoulders a bit, only to tense up again as Wyvern begins giggling at the text. She bites her lip and presses her palms together as she watches the overgrown lizard's mirth, then freezes up as she notices him shaking his head. "Sssorry." Wyvern tosses the story on top of his desk and flashes a razor-sharp grin towards Degorram. "For laughing, I mean. The elder brother conference just reminded me of the typical Pen Minstrel Hall open debate. Only Havdemthi is like Tanuchan if she belonged to the "I Wyvern" cult, hah! By the way, I certainly sssympathize with Yegtholion's little problem, and I loved all the almost dragonic detail. Like Gedogem- that's definitely my kinda name!" Degorram raises a brow at the reptilian Elder's ambivalent response, then breathes a long sigh of relief as she watches him stamp her application story ACCEPTED. ;-) OOC: A very good beginning to your story and an ACCEPTED application, Degorram. Welcome to the Mighty Pen! I look forward to reading more of your stuff, as well as participating with you in a variety of community events, particularly "I Wyvern" cult whipped cream rituals. Once again, welcome!

Nice dream narrative, Nightfae. :-) The chain of events leading up to the girl's death definitely had a surreal dreamlike quality to it, particularly with the stranger entering the car and the wedding taking place at night. The short sentence style of the piece seemed to work well, and I liked how you drew the story to a close. I also liked some of the details you used throughout this, though I'm very curious to learn more about how the girl died after seeing that her spectre has a broken neck. The absence of the suicide itself felt like a tiny gap in the story for me, and you might consider adding a sentence or two about that. Anyway, thanks for sharing this.

Nice poem, Snypieur. :-) I find the beliefs that this poem expresses very interesting and original, as the acknowledgement of a Higher Being and refusal to obey him is definitely intriguing. The message of paying for your sins in life rather than death also struck me as very interesting, as did the stanza concerning the growth of children under His presence. Overall, I found the ideas and concepts behind this piece excellent, and the curt four-line stanza structure seemed to suit it well. One thing that I was uncertain about in this (and there may be something that I'm overlooking) was the use of capitalization. I understood the capitalization of Him, as well as that of the larger concepts such as Judgement and Faith, but am not sure if I followed why it was used for some of the other terms. "We Dream" in the sixth stanza and "Straight and Proud" in the eighth stanza are two examples of moments where I didn't quite follow why the terms were capitalized... I'm sure there's probably an underlying reason for it (perhaps to demonstrate that People should not be considered lower than Him?), but you may want to emphasize this more or make it more apparent somehow. On another minor note, I didn't think that the internal rhyme of "Proud and Uncowed" in the fourth stanza fit the tone of the rest of the piece, as the sound of it somehow struck me as humurous. Good stuff, once again. :-) It's nice to see you posting, Snypieur!

Wyvern breaths twice on his claws and stretches them for good luck. He twists his snout as the scent of Almost Dragonic Brand Ghoul Wart Breath Mint(a)s™ lingers in the air, then grabs the nearest quill and begins scribbling before the nausea sets in. There once was a gal named Temae whose cloak let her hide in the shade. But even when hidden her presence would fit in the thoughts of the Pen every day. There once was a portrait named Zool whose frame kinda looked like a stool. So Wyvern sat down on Zool's faded frown... now Picasso considers him cool! There once was a Buddha most Happy who ate eighty times more than Appy. Though his belly was bloated his tastebuds still noted when Wyv tried to serve something crappy. There once was a flirt named Kitanue, who would happily lay her wings on you. Valdar painted her poses 'til the canvas spilled roses with each petal spreading on cue. There once was a vamp named the Tamned who raided blood banks on demand. His fangs never felt necks of pennites who dwelt near the friendly graves dotting his land. There once was a lady named Scarlett whom many considered a harlot. She dragged Finnius to bed kissed in nibbles instead and left him as "dearly departed"

Nice poem, Pheonix. :-) It definitely has a Romantic feel to it, with the replenishment of the soul that the water brings to the narrator. I really like the feeling of upliftment that the narrator of the poem experiences, and also find the notion of the water coming from an "unknowing cup" intriguing. I wasn't as big a fan of the image of the honey on the tongue since it struck me as a more typical Romantic image, though the wording of "bleeds" did add an interesting element to the line. This poem has a certain positive energy to it that I appreciate. Thanks for sharing it.

Wyvern jumps up from his desk at the sound of Degorram's voice, breaking his daydream along with his elaborate paperclip construction of a money safe. The overgrown lizard smooths a few tilted scales on his head and shuffles through a pile of scrapped scheme proposals. He sweeps his tail across the floor and extends a claw towards the new visitor, cursing at the feel of the gum wad stuck to his stinger. "Welcome to the Mighty Pen!" Wyvern reaches into a folder labeled "Devil's Advocate" and hands Degorram a blank sheet of paper. "I think you'll find the resssponsibilities of the Pen rather simple. Just read over that list of member rules and feel free to ask me any questions." Degorram frowns and waves the sheet a few times, her ears bending and her dark tail twitching. "I- there isn't anything printed on here." "Oh." Wyvern stares up at the ceiling with the expression of a bull fresh out of the china shop. "Well, that's simply because it's written in invisible think. If you'd like, I could recite the responsibilities to you by heart." "Errrr." Degorram squints once more at the sheet. "Well, I-" "The mossst important responsibility of any member of the Pen is to be on top of your payments. One thousand geld to Wyvern, every month, with a late tax of five hundred geld, an early tax of five hundred geld, and an on-time tax of five hundred geld." Degorram's ears seem to droop a bit as Wyvern continues. "Another esssential responsibility is to join the "I Wyvern" cult, who live by morals of loose geld and Almost Dragonic loyalty. As the 666th honored guest to show interest in the Pen since the last time I miscounted, you are to build an muscular idol of me out of precious metals." Degorram's jaw drops as Wyvern hands her a tiny wooden hammer and chisel. "Build a great enough statue, and you shall have the special privelege of accompanying me here in my Office and obeying my every whim. There are other responsibilities of courssse... the misdirect I. M Clueless law, the Almost Dragonic Brand Dollar Billboard™ dress code, and an entire series of clauses revolving around feather/whipped cream torture. But I think thessse rules should do for now." Wyvern rubs his claws together and strikes a razorsharp grin, winking to Degorram with not-so-subtle gestures. ;-p

A nice start to your story, silentangel. :-) I like the daydream-style high fantasy feel that you give to Marina's journey, as this chapter has an interesting unreal dream-like feel to it. My favorite moment in this first chapter is when the reactions of the townspeople in the fantasy city remind Marina of the manner that the highschool students teased her on Earth, as I found the parallel very intriguing. I also like the whole concept of the girl who feels out of place escaping to a realm of fantasy where she really belongs... makes me feel like you've found the right site to share your creativity at. ;-) In terms of potential things to improve, there are parts of this where I feel like a bit more expansion and detail might help. For example, I'm really interested in learning how Marina was different from the other students, and how they teased her. Then again, if too much expansion is given, the story might lose it's dream-like "one event leads to another" feel, so take that with a grain of salt. Also, I think that the introductory paragraph of this tells details to the reader directly (i.e Marina's appearence, Marina's name, etc) while the rest of it is told more from Marina's perspective. You might consider introducing these details in a manner that fits the perspective of the rest of the piece, though there is a certain surreal quality of being told details from an outside voice. Nice beginning, once again. Welcome to the Mighty Pen.

"Within" Brutal and direct: 15 points Told in your favorite first person: 10 points Leaves reader with urge to grab the nearest blunt object and beat self over the head: -15 Stephen sets the standard so low that even "mediocrity" is misspelled: 10 points Dog is used to judge the access of good and evil, rather than a lizard: -10 points Notion that narrator will install a virus on the disk with his degree from Hackmore Tech: 20 points "Dumbarses" used to indicate Stephen's proper grasp of English: 5 points, dumazz Notion that the women turned to goo that Stephen dumped will return in the form of 7-11 Cheesy Hot Pockets, avenging themselves through the miracle of gastric intestinal infection: 77 points Overall: (15 + 10 - 15 + 10 - 10 + 20 + 5 + 77) divided by the number of times that Aardvark has threatened Wyvern with an open-ended fire hydrant = the rating. "Plunge" Brutal and direct: 15 points Told in first person: 10 points Protagonist lives to see another day: 5 points Narrator's heart not only thumps, but pauses to count at every fiver: 5 points Outstretched valley the color of crisp, freshly-printed dollar bills: 10 points Narrator strikes gay bird pose to not look like a frightened animal: 10 points Narrator considers being "eaten" by a "wild scavenger" once he "hits rock bottom:" -10 points He goes home redfaced, and is compared to sweatshop workers: -15 points Moral that a medkit full of morphine can cure any fear, even a wussy one like acrophobia: 20 points Tamaranis' bungee cord comment: better left out after points #6-#8 Overall: (15 + 10 + 5 + 5 + 10 + 10 - 10 - 15 + 20) added to the number of days that Aardvark feigns to not realize how old these stories are = the rating. "Colonisation" Brutal and jumbled together: 15 points Told in third milennium person: 15 points Thread forms a Mighty Pen Alpha betting SOUP: 10 poster points Wyvern post pertaining to bloodsucking patriots included: 100 points World War Three makes way for battlefield of posts: 10 points Vishnu uses probe as diaper, while Izanagi goes senile: 10 points points 90% of probe brains managed by engineer/scientist squares: -10 points Story posts organized in a manner that amuses Aardvark: -50 points Thread resulted in Aardvark moving up in rank: -50 points Aardvark posing as Uncle Sam: 0 points, but damn appropriate. Overall: (15 + 15 + 10 + 100 + 10 + 10 - 10 - 50 - 50 - 0) to the infinitive of the number of pennites that posted in this thread and later were driven to clobber Aardvark with a quill = the rating. "Jack" Brutal and direct: 15 points Told in first person: 10 points Scientists gain 'net cred by jumping machines: 10 points Jack views humans as a series of ones, as well as zeroes like the narrator: 20 points Story includes consistent witty parley between all parties: 20 points Witty parley is all in indecipherable internet code: -20 points Mental Wetware Error leads to story being posted: 10 points Jack's avatar similar to that of Aardvark: 0 eery points Narrator learns Jack over the course of the story: 20 points Overall: (15 + 10 + 10 + 20 + 20 - 20 + 10 + 0 + 20) times the number of universal popup advertisements Jack can endow Almost Dragonic Inc. with = the rating. "Taxi" Brutal and direct: 15 points Told in first person: 10 points Protagonist drives a riced-up Holden: -5 points Still burns rubber with triple-diget endorsements: 25 points Scientific discussion of cab life expectancy made fun through funkay hip hop slang: 10 points Notion that cab chase scene may have involved a police helicopter for no good reason: 5 points Dodgy russian accent, but no mention of how "Taxi drives you" in Soviet Russia: -5 points Waving arms and yelling "TAXI" stops Falcon, but not his Reply Raven: 0 points "Belongs in Reader's Digest" critique: made irrelevent by belief that it may be a true narrative later in commentary. Overall: (15 + 10 - 5 + 25 + 10 + 5 - 5 + 0) minus the number of times that Aardvark has expected Wyvern to not worry about collecting his change = the rating. "Nobility" Brutal and direct: 15 points Told in third person: 10 points Antagonist dies and is a puke-inducingly cute small child without homicidal tendencies: 100 points Motorbike not only used as badass assassin decor: -20 points Protagonist locks all the bathrooms in the plant, but unlocks the "rector floor": -20 points Powerplant security doubling as janitorial staff for cost efficiency: 10 points Protagonist's assassination technique is almost as over-the-top as his "Terminator" wardbrobe: 10 points Chopper referenced, but not used in a random chase scene: -5 points Ayshela's request for Almost Dragonic Brand Unglue™ (now available in three tasteless flavors!) never followed up: -30 points Overall: (15 + 10 + 100 - 20 - 20 + 10 + 10 - 5 - 30) divided by the number of times that Aardvark has ratted on Almost Dragonic Brand Ungl(ue)ow Sticks™ for having remenants of nuclear waste = the rating. "Runner" Brutal and direct: 15 points Told in third person: 10 points Text reads like a guidebook detailing etiquette for the proper paranoid delusionist: 30 points Protagonist "owns" a Charger, Viper, Monaro, F250, Moke, Bug, and a Mightyboy. No riced-up Honda Civics in sight, thankfully: 0 points Guidebook for the proper hobo suggested through newspaper blanket, but never followed up: -10 points Lack of keen eyes and careful ears in the reader implicit in the narrator's statements: 10 points Notion that invisible men may be reading this: 20 points Suggestion tha- IGNORE THIS REVIEW Overall: (15 + 10 + 30 + 0 - 10 + 10 + 20 +) NOTHING TO SEE HERE "Collectors" Brutal and direct: 15 points Told in ebriated third person: 10 points Cats given preference to squirrels in "Name That Roadkill": 5 points Story includes three sided babble that doesn't involve the law somewhere: 20 points Narrative fufills the initial expectations for a hobo guidebook set in "Runner": 10 points Protagonist drinks canned beer beverages while driving, rather than hard liquor: -10 points Protagonists fail to collect a freeway entrance sign in their booze run: -5 points Story leaves the reader with a warm, sickly feeling: 10 points Failure to include Bruteweiser™ plug: -5 points Overall: (15 + 10 + 5 + 20 + 10 - 10 - 5 + 10 -5) multiplied by the number of Bruteweisers Aardvark can typically consume in one sitting = the rating.

"Oowwwwwwwww!" Wyvern grinds his teeth as he writhes over a fertile patch of thorns, his claws clenched over his stomach. "Whatever happened to a good ol' fashioned 'no thanksss'?! Geeze, ya crazy..." Wyvern lifts himself to his feet like a jerky snake under a drunken charmer's spell. He raises a brow at Evangeline's question and kicks the helmet with an angry growl, turning and raising a claw. The reptilian Elder doesn't notice the helmet as it soars through the air behind him and straight into Cernain's face. "My prithee business is Almost Dragonic Brand Prithee Lisssp Makeup Thalons™." Wyvern dislodges a thorn from his teeth and rubs a claw over his aching chest. "I'm building one in this mall, so you'll soon be able to experience it for yourself. Now take that dagger and start carving a sign with a picture of a buncha old bars of sssoap, like a good worker bee should." Evangeline narrows her eyes and growls at the boss-lizard's tone, only to pause and turn as the sound of sobbing catches her ears. "My lock o hair..." Scaleeroy the lizardman underling pulls the salmon from his nostril and blows his nose on it, wiping a tear from his eye. "Was gonna put it by duh ogress toenail clip an' duh halfling tooth in me basement, but you." Scaleeroy stomps his feet and points a claw at Evangeline. "You stoles it!" Scaleeroy reaches into a pouch of his worker overalls and pulls out a petrified skunk from his lunch pouch. He raises the ugly animal like a scimitar, it's frozen tail high in the air. "I hates thief!" "Errr." Wyvern jumps back as Scaleeroy rushes towards Evangeline with a howling war cry. "W-WAIT a minute, what're you- get back to work!"

Zadown, I've been a bit slow in responding to this one, but I read through "Solitude" today and thoroughly enjoyed it. :-) I think the title of the story is very fitting given the mood and tone that you set throughout the piece, as it felt sadder and more internal than the other Dreamer stories I've read. The series of lonely scenes that you set throughout the story are all masterfully written, with sombre details and pacing that really add to the mood. The scene where Jankiize denies the Dreamer entrance and the scene where the Dreamer realizes that Êzkhael is starting to lose his devotion worked particularly well for me, and the story played out like a series of snapshots of the loneliness that the Dreamer's harsh attitude has brought him. I also loved the uses of sense-oriented details in this, especially with the veil of rain and the clanging of the hammer. This story struck me as a bit more fragmented than other Dreamer stories, almost like tying together some loose ends between stories and showing a more emotional side of the Dreamer. There were one or two points where I felt like the narrative voice slipped a bit between a third person narrator from the Dreamer's perspective (which constitutes 99% of it) and a more omniscent third person narrator. The line "Êzkhael Khâ got no further in whatever he had been about to say, got no second step closer" in the fourth post would be an example of this, as it struck me as a bit more omniscent and direct to the reader. Also, Melyme's response to the Dreamer's one-sided offer seemed a bit flat to me given the hideous embarassment that he faces, though his choice to accept it is certainly realistic and plays out well. Excellent stuff, as always. :-) I'm still catching up!

Wyvern scurries into the Assembly Room just as the faint blue light of Gyrfalcon's spell washes over the long tables of half-finished stories. The reptilian Elder freezes and chatters his teeth, imagining any number of spells rhyming with "potter" and reaching into his pockets for an Almost Dragonic Brand Mini-Troll Tissue Rag Towel™ in case of emergencies. The lizard's limbs gradually loosen as he watches the blue fade to a transparent tint, and he turns to Solivagus with a knowing sneer. "Hmmm, I sss'pose we'll have to classify you in the 'ressurected under ownership' category, with such celebs as Vlad the lich." Wyvern waves a large folder of paperwork in front of Solivagus and plucks a quill from his back pocket. "Of course, in your return, you'll have to fill out a few minor pages of Pen legalities. Just remember, parts A1 to A27 and C59 to G2^13 are all 'yes' or 'no' answer questions." "Yes or no questions?" Solivagus' eyes widen as a frown settles on his face. "B-but, the Gods of Neutrality, they-" "You wanna remain a neutral party? No worriesss!" Wyvern reaches into his Devil's Advocate folder and hands Solivagus what appears to be a blank sheet of paper. "As a professional lawyer and administrative assistant in the field of ressurection ownership warranties, I'd be more than happy to help aid you in the process of procrastinating on this document. Just sssign right here, on this Almost Dragonic Brand Mini-Troll Tissue Rag Towel™." "N-n-no!" Solivagus tries to wave off the filthy-looking rag. "G-get that thing outta my-" "Quick, sign before it disintegrates!" ;-) OOC: Another "welcome back" from me, Solivagus. ;-)

I saw "Crash" recently after hearing that it won "Best Picture of the Year" at the Academy Awards. I had heard a lot of mixed reviews about the movie prior to seeing it, and the blunt philosophical racial dialogue of the first twenty minutes made me roll my eyes. Fortunatly, the film took a sharp turn uphill after its rather shakey intro, and it turned out to be an excellent movie. The character dynamics made for numerous interesting situations, and the lives of the different characters were tied together very well a' la "Magnolia." I can't judge it against the other films that were nominated this year since I haven't seen them yet, but I thought that "Crash" had quite a few touching moments and it left me impressed. I also watched "The Hudsucker Proxy" recently after hearing a lot of good reviews for it from some of my friends. I have no idea how I managed to overlook this film for so long, but I thought it was brilliant. The Coen Brothers did an excellent job in directing the movie with a very original comic slant, and the premise of the invention of the Hula Hoop worked very well. The whole clockwork/life metaphor was brilliant as well. Laugh-out-loud funny. I highly recommend it to those who haven't seen it yet. I watched "Wedding Crashers" a couple of months back as well, though I ain't gonna bother reviewing that one. ;-p Not a big fan... blame my sister for renting it!