Wyvern

Interesting poem, Tasslehof. :-) I really like the frustration that you convey through the tone of this piece, and the cyclical nature of the relationship mentioned at the end is intriguing. The basis of the relationship, with the concept of filling "empty space when all alone," also made for good subject matter. I enjoyed some of the wordchoice and phrasing in this poem, particularly with the image of moment's fading into the third person's shadow. One thing that I've noticed in a number of your poems is an emphasis on posing questions to the reader. While I think that questions can be a powerful means of grabbing the reader's attention and making them think, I also think that it's important that they lead the reader in a certain direction, and too many questions can sometimes lead to a poem being bogged down in ambiguity. You may want to consider restructuring some of your questions with this mind, as there points where I felt like I wanted something more concrete and definitive. Thanks for sharing, and nicely done. :-)

Wyvern steps in through the Cabaret Room doors and bows in Happybuddha's general direction. The lizard then raises a flag with a large golden coin scribbled on it and pauses for a moment with his snout to the sky. "Heave!" Wyvern waves the flag down, and the sound of metal screeching against cement pierces the ears of the birthday participants. The voices of Bravery and Sexy call back: "Slloooooow!" Wyvern rolls his eyes and raises a claw to his mouth. "For the lassst time, I don't care how slow you're moving, it's 'Hooo'!" Wyvern curses to himself and slams his tail on the ground. "I have a reputation to upkeep here, geeze!" Happybuddha and the numerous well-wishers turn their heads as they notice a large giftwrapped object with a white metal horn sticking out of it arrive at the doorway. Sexy and Bravery come to a halt behind the object and promptly fall over and collapse to the ground. "I know it's a lil' late for Mardi Gras, but I figured 'what the hey.'" Wyvern starts in the direction of the large gift, only to come to an abrupt halt as he finds his stinger firmly stuck in the ground. The lizard pulls at it twice, then sighs and turns his eyes to Regel. "Regel, would you mind doing the honorssss?" Regel nods from his position near the doorway and approaches the huge package in cautious steps. He hesitates as he clutches the loose end of a large piece of wrapping string, then pulls at it and causes the wrapping to unravel to the ground. "Introducing, the Almost Dragonic Brand Merdi Gross Buddhabelly Rhino Mask™." Wyvern waves a claw to the large object, which appears to be the front piece of the totalled Almost Dragonic Brand Monster Truck Reject Decimobileator Tree Terrorizer™ dusted in white powder. "Built using the finest of decimobilerated truck pieces and painted white with chalk from the Almost Dragonic Brand Magic Detention Office Rug™, this mask should cover even the greatest of buddhabellies... well, at least until you gain weigh-" "Hey, where did Regel go?" All eyes turn towards Akallabeth for a moment, then gradually reshift their focus towards the mountain of discarded wrapping paper that surrounds the mask. Wyvern raises a claw to continue his boasting, then sighs and stares towards the ceiling. "Fine, I'll get the ssssshovel... Happy B-day, Buddha." ;-) OOC: Happy birthday, Happybuddha. :-) I hope that it went well and that you got everything you wished for.

Dr. Bob shook his head and turned from Jason's cell with a sigh. He tried to tune out the screams as he walked down the hall, focussing his thoughts on the juicy kumquat in his lunchbasket. "A pterodactyl, I tell ya!" The sound of the padded cell walls reverberating caused Dr. Bob to pause for a moment. "Hey, Tyrannosaur, come back here and gimme another high-five would ya?!" Bob shivered for a moment, then strode down the hallway in long strides, faster and faster until he reached the Ward lounge. He stepped inside and closed the door behind him, leaning back against it and staring up at the dizzy blur of luminescent ceiling lights. He fumbled through his pockets for a cigarette. "Rough day with Prehistoric Pilham, eh?" Dr. Bob froze up and turned his eyes from the lights, only to go calm when he noticed Security Guard Jack nursing a coffee at the miniature lounge table. "Yeah, that Jason's a real nut job." Bob shook his head and lit up. "I swear, there're days in this biz where I wish I had just stuck to those goddamn feldspars. It's like a regular simulation of the mental patient experience when dealing with some of these creeps." "Yeah, though that Pilham ain't bad." Jack took a long sip. "You should've seen Macho Man Morandy Savage when he was around. Spat like a viper, bucked like a moose... had to put him down." Dr. Bob let out a half-hearted laugh that ended in a smoker's cough. He doused out his cig on a refrigerator magnet and brushed a hand through his hair. "Jason wasn't kidding, it's like a friggin' jail-cell in this place sometimes." Bob turned to the door. "I gotta go delineate Jason's behavior to Asylum Co-head Pete. That parsimonous bastard cut fifty bucks from my last paycheck just cus I got a description to him ten minutes late. Ain't looking to see it happen again." "Parsimonous?" Jack shook his coffee cup and watched the liquid twirl. "What does that-?" But Bob was already gone. ;-) Next four words: scofflaw dodder polecat codpiece

I can definitely feel the teen spirit at work in this piece... not only in the interactions between characters, but also in the style of humor. The third scene was definitely my favorite of the bunch, as the interactions with the Carnie and the revelation of Ryan's true identity both gave the scene direction and made for quite a few humerous interactions. The reoccuring references to rides also worked well at adding a sense of vainness to the interactions of the characters, which fit in line with the piece's title. :-) There were points in this piece where I found it difficult to distinguish one character from another, which can be frustrating at times. I might recommend adding more scene to the piece to improve this, along with a description for the setting of Scene's One and Four. A description of the characters before the play starts, a more diverse set of names, and varying styles of dialogue could also all be potential ways to make the characters stand out more. On a side note, is there any particular reason you chose to write this as a play rather than prose? :-) I ask because another potential way to strengthen the characters in this would be to expand this into a prose piece, which might also strengthen the direction of it. Still, the blue light and black outs are interesting stage effects, and the purpose of the play could be to show the vainness of teens that act and think alike. :-) Anyway, thanks for sharing.

Wyvern rehearses the advertisement statement under his breath one final time before turning with an Almost Dragonic Brand Folded Goblin Buck Cigar™ extended in a claw. "Well, to answer your question, I've come to undercut your every need with flashy and strangely overpriced products, available in a new Almost Dragonic Mega-" Wyvern freezes and drops the cigar as he notices the familiar face of Cernain. "What th- you again?!" "Yes." Cernain takes a step forward. "The word you were searching for does not end in 'mall,' I hope?" "Ah geeze, I don't-" Wyvern shakes his head and waves a claw in the air. "So, what, you've been stalking me for twelve days? Look Cernanny, I don't know how nicely the trees take to that type of behavior, but from my neck of the woods, that's jussst downright creepy." "I will stop only when I see you swear to never build in this forest." Cernain steps towards a large tree and places a hand on its bark. "Unless you want to see a repetition of what happened last time." "Oh, oh no!" Wyvern raises his claws to his eyes, the image of Cernain's lips on the tree still vivid in his mind. "No no, no. Look, I'll ssswear not to build in this forest, alright?" Cernain and Wyvern both turn as Evangeline's voice falls from a branch of the tree adjacent to Cernain. "Can I join or are there rules for this?" "Ssssure you can join!" Wyvern strikes a toothy grin towards her and tosses a hardhat up to her branch. "Only rule is that I'm the boss-lizard. Now, you can help by going over to that dam and cementing the last of the bricksss in place." Cernain glances up to Evangeline for a moment, then frowns and crosses his arms as he turns back towards the lizard. "You just swore not to build here." "Oh what, you mean two minutes ago?" Wyvern scratches his chin, then snaps a claw. "Well, you never mentioned anything about not building on that waterfall. HAH! Ssscore one for Wyver-" "Wyvern!" A soaked lizardman with a fresh salmon sticking from his left nostril barges onto the scene. "I's seen a ghost in duh stream! She made lotta bubbles, said 'Water scared!' We must do good with dam." Wyvern raises a brow as the lizardman lifts what appears to be a strand of green seaweed. "I's even gots a lock of her hair!"

Bravery hesitates as he positions the last of the trick candles on the pentagram altar. The circular formation of the flames seems to reflect across the archangel idol that sits near the decorative metal stage. Bravery frowns as the statue's eyes seem to reflect in an unnatural light through the dim hue of the Cabaret Room. "Wyvern, I really don't like the feel of this... we should go." "Awwww, come on!" Wyvern tosses Almost Dragonic Brand Haywire Pixie Wand Sparklers™ onto the altar in a tasteless display of festive cheer. "What's the worst that could happen?" "The worst that could happen?" Bravery scratches his chin for a moment and turns to Wyvern. "Evisceration by archangels?" "Errrr..." Wyvern drops the last of the sparklers and stares at the ground. "Well, no, not really." "Breaching the Laws of the Astral and being permanently banned from ever returning to the ethereal plane?" "Eheheh." Wyvern scratches the back of his head and shifts his tail nervously. "No, uhh, guess again." "Having our souls reaved and used as channeling devices by the Dreamer?" "No, ummm." Wyvern fiddles with his stinger in his claws as he watches Bravery's face darken. "Eheh, getting warmer...?" "Please don't tell me this is going be a response about the potential taxation that shifting planes causes?" Bravery sighs and stares at the ceiling, only to jump as the altar begins to rumble. Wyvern quickly whips out a "Happy Birthday Zadown" flyer and tosses it onto the metal platform before racing out of the room after Bravery, full speed ahead. ;-) OOC: Happy Birthday, Zadown. I hope you have a good one.

Wyvern slithers into the Conservatory and tacks a subject sheet onto the board. He tosses several crumpled pages of failed ideas to the side, then grins towards each of the participants in turn. The character to play: George A. Frederico, twenty-seven, is a poor illegal immigrant from Italy who lives in a dilapadated Brooklyn apartment complex. Next door to him is an overweight construction worker, and down the hall from him lives a part-time pimp, though he never see's either of them much due to his reclusive nature. Ever since he was seven years old, his father stressed to him the importance that solitude plays in the creative process, his harsh breath reeking of cheap italian wine. His father would sometimes become so upset at his non-chalant attitude towards Van Gogh that he would lock George in his room for the entire day without food or water. George has since realized that his father was embittered over his own failed body part sculptures and his girlfriend leaving him, but still takes his words to heart when drawing his paintings. George's artwork consists of canvases with stick figures centered around coffee mug stains, but none have ever been considered good enough to be placed in an art convention. He works as a window washer for tall apartment complexes to pay the rent, and can't find it in himself to turn down a stray cat if he see's one on the streets. He usually keeps cats that he's picked up for about a week before realizing that he can't take care of them, and sending them to the pound. His apartment has a flea problem that he can't afford to get rid of. You are to play the role of the half-dead earwig in one of George's unopened cans of lima beans. The situation: Dinner time.

Wyvern darts into the Cabaret Room with a miniature crystal ball held up to his horns, cursing at the top of his lungs and stepping through a flurry of butterflies. "Not a drop. That's right, Almost Dragonic Brand Environmentally Unsound Megamalls™ are 100% non-aquatic. Wha- Hello?" Wyvern growls and shakes the communication marble, then stuffs it into his pocket and turns to Annael. "Annael, a happy birthday to you! This leap-year confusion is terrible, but don't ya worry, I have a sssimple and effective solution to it." Annael steps back and frowns as Wyvern scoots a table towards her and lays out a large blueprint and several folders fill of paperwork. "The bessst solution would be to create a new day in the week so that the 29th will still exist during the leap year. I propose that it be called Wyannaevynsday, and that it be represented by a token butterfly on the calender. An Almost Dragonic Brand Lowfat Butterfly™, of course, since the activities and general culture of the day would be endorsed by Almost Dragonic Inc. Now, after you've sssigned and filled out these seventy-three sheets of paperwork and made it semi-official, we could time travel using Xaious and a wooden sle-" "Almost Dragonic Brand Lowfat Butterfly™?" Tanuchan twitches her nose, and a butterfly flutters off of it. "You mean like a moth?" Wyvern raises a claw to respond, only to pause as he notices the glum look on Annael's face. The overgrown lizard sighs and clears the paperwork cluttering the table, then reaches into his pocket and pulls out the tiny crystal ball that he had been cursing into earlier. "Well, then at leassst accept this belated birthday gift." Wyvern extends the communication marble to Annael. "It'll make a nice earing, if nothing else." ;-) OOC: A Happy Birthday to you, Annael. :-) Thank you for informing us of it, that sucks that it falls on such an unfriendly date. I hope that you had a great day, regardless.

I like this story so far, Sweetcherrie. :-) The tone of the narrator has a very interesting, jaded feel to it that really adds to the mood of the piece. The scenario of the narrator is also very interesting, as the concept of visiting random funerals just to feel alive is definitely intriguing. I also think that you do a good job of getting into the narrator's head and giving the reader his impressions of dead bodies. I'm not quite sure what it is that triggers the narrator's revelation that standing over the corpse is preposterous, and you may want to specify that more as it seems like a huge change from the fourty-three other funerals that Jeffrey attended. Perhaps there's some sight or sound that makes it dawn upon him, or maybe somehow this specific funeral makes him recall some preposterous memory? Something more is needed there, as the thoughts that Jeffrey has over the course of this funeral seem like the same kind of thoughts he would have at other funerals. Also, I'm very interested in learning more about why Jeffrey doesn't feel alive, and would definitely like to see him interact with some other character at some point to get a better impression of his mannerisms. Interesting start. I'm looking forward to seeing how this story developes. :-) P.S: Out of curiousity, is the use of the 'S' in the spelling of the title intentional, or just a minor typo?

Wyvern darts into the Werewolf Question and Answer session and ducks his head, clutching his horns as a stream of extended microphones and mounted video cameras swarm in hot pursuit. The reptilian Elder cries out and screeches to a halt as he reaches a dead end wall with a Werewolf sign-up sheet attached to it. The camera wires and and mini-speakers close in around him as he presses his scales to the wall. "Mr. Wyvern." A very old woman in a retro news reporter outfit steps out from the crowd. She waves her cane at a younger media hound and adjusts her dentures. "Granny Jameez, baner, Werewolf XXIV. Is it true that this new Werewolf thread of yours won't be appropriate for the youngins?" "Wh-why nonsense!" Wyvern strikes a nervous grin as several flashes go off. "Ms. Jameez, I can assure you that there's nothing in this new Werewolf thread that your children won't be able to find in 'Naughty Nymph,' 'Tight Fairy Tails,' or 'Nubile Eleven Ears'" "Wyvern!" A very young girl steps from the crowd and shoves Granny Jameez to the ground. She strikes a satisfied grin as she treds over the granny's arm, then takes out a hunting knife and begins etching notes. "Tabatha Johnston, baner, Werewolf XXI. How much bloodshed and murderous lynching can we expect in Werewolf XXX?" "Well, not a whole lot." Wyvern scratches the back of his head. "Ssssee, uhhh, the lynchings are replaced with these other tests of endurance... but y'know, I'm sure there'll be some pain involved. And torture. Definitely potential torture." "Lord Wyvern." A woman dressed in garments coated in heiroglyphics steps forward. "Napheen, baner, Werewolf XXIV. I hail from the times of the great pyramids. But tell me, mystic lizard, when is this rumored chapter in Werewolf history scheduled to take place?" "Waddaya mean 'when is it scheduled?'" Wyvern raises a brow as inquisitive eyes glare at him from all angles. "Werewolf XXX has been opened to participation for nearly two yearsss now! Anyone who wishes to participate need only enter into the 'Werewolf BEE-ATCH!' thread located in the Ssscarlet Pen and participate. Simple." "Excuse me, Mr. Wyvern." A tall fireman muppet dangles his way from the crowds. "Firefighter McCleary, baner, Werewolf XXVIII. I was wondering, what do you mean exactly that the thread is already ope-" Firefighter McCleary pauses as a note is passed to him from a mupper rat in the crowd. He reads it over, and his dangling shoulders are lowered. McCleary turns his head to the muppet rat and slaps the note with his decorative firehouse. "What do you mean I'm no longer going to be the baner in Werewolf XXVIII now that I've revealed my identity?!" Firefighter McCleary tosses down the note and turns to the rat with his token firefighter axe. " Well I QUIT, you vermin!" "Ummm." Wyvern watches as McCleary chases after the rat with his axe, running off of the set. The overgrown lizard tugs at his collar, then clears his throat in the awkward silence. "So, uhhh, isss it just a coincidence that all of you news reporter folks are baners?" ;-p

I really like this poem, Regel. The subject matter that you choose to deal with is very mature and heartfelt, and the rhyme scheme doesn't feel forced or stilted. I liked the second and third stanzas the most... the reference to the "waiting game" beginning seemed to enforce the emotions behind the piece, and the comparison of the dying person's battles to the struggles of his loved ones was very good. The last stanza seemed to be a more obvious statement than the rest of the poem, and was less interesting to me for that reason. Also, the introduction of the "Our" in the first stanza was a little jarring to me, and you might consider keeping that stanza in the first person and altering that line somehow. Very well done, once again. :-) I've noticed that in some of your previous poems, the style and form didn't mesh with the content, but here I feel like they go hand in hand and work together well. Good stuff!

Peter grunted and spat a loogey full of blood at the cracked pavement. The pain of love shot through his shoulders and back like a pitchfork raking his spine, and the huge stack of lumber on his back splintered and shifted with every step. The eighty miles of travel had been a little on the rough side without Grazer, but the sight of the bent sign with the horse doodle on it still sent his heart into a frenzy. The grainy stable doors blurred before him as he stumbled forward, and they broke from their hinges as he collapsed to the ground. "Oh dear!" Maria jumped from her wooden chair, ruffled her hair and glanced towards a shiny spittoon to make herself presentable. She then rushed towards the twitching form of Peter, ignoring the mess of logs that carpeted the floor. "Woodland stranger, how unexpected of you return. Oh, but where are my manners... JUUUNNNNIIIIOOOOORRR!" Peter lifted himself on one elbow and watched as a plump three-year old boy ran into the stable. "Yes ma?!" "Why don't you help clear up this mess while I keep this fine gentlemen company?" Maria picked up a log and heaved it at Junior, crushing him in an instant. "And when you're done, fix that there door. Now then, where were we...?" "Don't wanna be causing no trouble, ma'am." Peter lifted himself to his feet and dusted off his tattered plaid shirt. His muscles seemed to ripple beneath the fabric as he stretched his arms, and Maria stepped forward with a smug smirk. "Well, I certainly wasn't expecting to see you again, stranger." She winked at him and brushed a splinter of wood from his collar. "Not after those looks you gave me the last time you passed by. Not after that discount mule I sold you two days ago." "Sickly, the paraplegic?" Peter dug into his large black beard and tossed out a small tumbleweed. "He passed away the other day, but I'm not here to get my wood back. In fact, I have brought you more wood." "Mmmm," Maria spat a pumpkin seed from her mouth as her eyes narrowed to two mischievous slits, focussing on his zipper. "I'm sure you have. You know, I would be more than happy to refund you, though all I have on me are these clothes." "That is most generous of you, ma'am." Peter stroked his beard. "But before you do anything of the sort, I have a confession to make. Ever since I first stepped into this stable, it was love at first sight..." "Oh I knew it!" Maria tossed the braids from her hair and let out low a growl of satisfaction. She leaned back on the log crushing Junior and spread herself for him, her eyes gleaming with anticipation. "Show me what nature's given you, you wild, wild man!" "Indeed," Peter stepped forward and paused for a moment at Maria's log, then continued to walk forward until he reached a stable with a large mule grazing in it. "Grazer's passing has been difficult for me, and Sickly could not take his place in his condition, but this mule struck me from the moment I first saw him." Maria lifted herself from the log with a crack of Junior's bones, staring at Peter in bewilderment and confusion. She smoothed down her skirt and rebuttoned her blouse as she watched Peter stroke the mule on the cheek. "That's right, baby, Peter's gonna buy you up." Peter blew a whistle of warm air into the mule's ear, causing it to whinny. He turned to Maria. "I'll give you all this wood and call off any refunds for him, though I would like to get a better look at his rear." ;-p

I think that this is a fantastic story so far, Quincunx, and found this initial post an excellent read. It amazes me how well you can establish such a unique and distinguishable set characters in such a short span of writing... Czalfemme, Odeafemme, and Zacariah all struck me as very well-developed and interesting characters, with numerous original details and character traits that brought them to life. The Parthene cuture that you manage to establish through this piece is also very original and intriguing, and only added to the gripping details and interesting plot that kept this story moving forward for me. The premise of both Tzimfemme seeking out her sperm donor and Tzimfemme tracking down Yrfemme were fascinating in their own right, and each part of the story grabbed me from the get-go. Your signature voice and style are omnipresent, of course, and your bold and novel approach is always a pleasure to read. :-) Nitpicking: for some reason, "cootie-hysteria" makes me pause every time I read through this segment, since it doesn't seem to fit the tone of the rest of the story. Then again, having learnt the origins of the Parthene culture from you on IRC, it does make more sense. Minor detail anyhow. On a side note, I'm definitely interested in learning more about this Dauphin character at some point... probably because I have an affinity towards immoral people. ;-p I can't wait to read the continuation of this! Really refreshing stuff Quin, thank you for posting it.

Very good poem, Finnius. :-) The sad tone that you set through the juxtaposition of the dream fantasies with the reality of life works well, particularly since the fantasies are so humble and down to Earth. I particularly liked the reference to days as "constant dull refrains" in the fourth stanza, as it drove across the mood well. I also found the ending of the poem very strong, as there's a certain feel of underlying love and perhaps even a hint of hope in the line "I'll see you in my dreams." I thought that the repetition of "In dreams" got a bit redundant in the eighth stanza, though I do like the use of it in the sixth and seventh stanzas. There were also one or two points where I thought that the lines felt a bit forced by the rhyme scheme, "in many varied ways" in the third stanza being a prime example. Well done, once again. :-) Thanks for sharing your poem Finnius!

I really enjoyed reading through your last four stories, Katzaniel, and think that you have some great ideas with strong messages behind them. :-) Here are some specific comments for each of the stories, sorry for not getting to them earlier: The Fool - I really liked the build-up and unexpected turn of this short, as Aster's trick and true identity were both excellent surprises. The direct discussion of identity and religion that turns the narrator's beliefs initially struck me as out of place, but the mysterious third person murderer at the end suggested a strong metaphor to me, and the direct exchanges between Aster and the narrator made more sense in light of that. Very intriguing ending, it definitely leaves food for thought. The Dreamer - This one might be my favorite out of the last four that you posted, as the tone and wording that you use throughout the piece really drives across the feel of a dream well. I loved the way that you detailed specific sensations and swirls of images rather than a cohesive storyline, and particularly liked the way the feeling of hurtling through the multiple doors was described. Another thing that I thought was excellent about this piece was the revelation that the narrator experiences through the dream, as the realisation is driven across well and the final awakening paragraph emphasizes the revelation in a powerful manner. Great stuff. Paradox- I wasn't quite as big a fan of this one as I was of the other three, though it was nicely written in a scientific documentation type of style. The premise of the paradox of time traveling is always fascinating to consider, but it didn't strike me as quite as original as the topics of your other stories since it's definitely been touched upon in film and literature before. There were quite a few interesting elements of plot, such as the apple experiments, but the final reference to God struck me as a bit blunt and could probably be dropped. Also, for some reason, Liang's manner of speech bothered me... perhaps because we only witness it once. ;-) This story certainly isn't bad though, and it could probably be made even better with a bit of expansion. Paul - I thought the concept behind this vignette was really good, and it definitely struck me as original. :-) I also liked how you gradually revealed the nature of the system, as placing the reader in the same boat as Paul B in terms of uncertainty worked very well. The only problem I had with this story was the ending, which felt a little incomplete and which may account for the question you wrote below the title. The story might be stronger if Paul changed in some way through the revelation of the system rather than simply being appalled... perhaps he was very confident in the education system before he found out about the method of organization, and that changed his outlook on school? Also, I'm not sure if all of the language and vocabulary of the story fits its premise, as Paul B seems awfully intellectual for an elementary school student. ;-) Never the less, I really enjoyed reading this, and found it well-written and original. Keep up the good work.

I like the way that the panic of the doctors and mother is contrasted with the narrator's own calmness, though there isn't really much choice involved in the narrator's attitude given his state of confusion and partial amnesia. The sense of apathy might be driven across stronger if the narrator was in a position where he had a choice to be apathetic, rather than being forced into the state by natural causes. An apathetic attitude seems to be hinted at through the reference to "Desperate Measures," which works well since it suggests that the narrator only experiences life through television, but there are no other indications of him being apathetic before the accident forced his mind into a state of apathy. Still, it is an interesting subject to write about, and I do like the way that the calm of the narrator's mind is juxtaposed with the panic of the other people. Oh, and for the record: we don't have any requirements on length or roughness here at the Pen, so no need to fret about a piece not being long or not being a finished product. :-)

Wyvern shivers and steps back from the stump, the images of Cernain's lips on the bark and the tree moving as if blown by a non-existant wind stuck in his mind. Wyvern tugs at the collar of his shirt and glances left and right as he feels the eyes of the forest spirit glaring at him. "W-well, you forgot about my trump card!" Wyvern sneers and flicks his wrist, letting a remote control fall from the right cuff of his suit. "The Almost Dragonic Brand Monster Truck Reject Decimobileator Tree Terrorizer™! Bwahahahaaaaaaa!" Wyvern slams a claw down on the button, and an enormous metallic vehicle with a rhinocerous-like iron face rolls out from behind a patch of trees. The trees around the death machine collapse as Helloween songs blare from its stereo ears at full blast, and a jet of flame rockets from its cannon nostrils. The eight monster truck wheels that span the vehicles length roll across the ground in a deafening rumble, and a lizard man dressed in a Jason mask with two chainsaws tied to his back operates the controles. Wyvern claps his claws together and lets out a girlish squee of excitement, then raises the remote control to his mouth and speaks in a low growly voice: "Tree Terrorizer, decimobilerate them." The sharpened-saw jaws of the Decimobileator open to reveal a battering ram tongue, and the machine lets out a loud roar. The operator of the machine jumps onto his seat at the top of the head and revs both of his chainsaws. As the Decimobileator moves forward, the lizard man begins juggling the chainsaws and laughing at the top of his lungs. "Yesssss," Wyvern lets out a maniacal cackle. "Yesss, yesss, decimobilerate them all!" The huge machine manages to exit from the clearing it was hiding in before one of its front wheels runs over a twig. The single brand snaps and knocks the balance of the vehicle off-center, causing it to topple over sideways. The operater lets out a scream as he falls from his seat, the live chaimsaws falling along with him. The Decimobileator loses its jaw, speakers, and wheels as it crashes along the ground until it reaches a halt at the foundation of the megamall, ramming it and destroying what little progress had been made. "Erk," Wyvern tosses his remote control to the ground, then heaves a long sigh. "C'mon boys, it doesssn't look like we're gonna be able to set the Almost Dragonic Brand Environmentally Unsound Megamall™ up over here." The remaining lizard men begin packing up their utensils as Wyvern takes out a map. "I guess we'll have to start building at that waterfall clearing we passed on the way over here... sssix days away, what a pain. I expect you all to build a rock solid dam first. Not a single drop of water should remain, ya hear?!" ;-)

Here are a few pics that I found online from P.O.S' set at the Ottobar show. I figured I'd archive them here before I lost track of them. You can spot me in the front row in the second and third ones. P.O.S P.O.S, with me looking awe-struck/exhausted in the front. Not the best of pic of me, but whatever. ;-p P.O.S thumb wrestling various people in the crowd. I forgot to mention that P.O.S is an undefeatable thumb wrestler who always challenges people to matches during his sets and wins. I didn't take a shot at the wrestling myself, but did enjoy watching the action at close range, as can be seen here... ;-) P.O.S & Sims. A major highlight of the evening, as mentioned in my review.

This evening, I went to see P.O.S, Mac Lethal, Sims, and Educated Consumers at the Ottobar in Baltimore, Maryland. This was my first time going down to the Ottobar in Maryland, and I ended up getting down there by car since one of my folks was kind enough to accompany me to it. The club was smallish with a comfortable old school rock venue feel to it, and I met Sims at the merchandise table before the show the started and exchanged a few words with him. Educated Consumers were the first act to take the stage, and they remain Washington D.C's most overrated hip hop act in my opinion. There's nothing bad about Seez Mics' rapping, persay, but once you've seen one Educated Consumers set, you've seen them all. They put on one of their typical sets of average hip hop, and were the least memorable act of the evening. Sims was the next act to take the stage, and he immediately livened things up with a more hype and humorous approach to the crowd. He started addressing everyone as "son" and "dunny," claiming that his position on the East coast entitled him to use that language, then went on to perform several impressive tracks. Though Sims' MCing was very good, the beats backing his tracks seemed to stand out even more, as they contained a lot of variation and swings in rhythm that added to Sims' flow. The last track he performed started out quietly, then built up in anger to the point where Sims jumped into the crowd and started moshing at the end of it. He put on a very good set, overall. Next up on the performance list was Mac Lethal, and his set was something else. Repping Kansas City, probably the last place anyone would ever think of finding any hip hop, Mac Lethal put on an absolutely hilarious show. He started up the set by communicating with Sims off stage via a megaphone to figure out which songs he should play, and their communications continued throughout the set to the point where Sims was freestyling off-stage through the megaphone. Chuck Norris jokes, Applebees, and random Canada disses were central themes strung throughout his set. Highlights included Mac Lethal freestyling over several extremely cheesy mainstream hip hop beats and dissing each of the tracks with his lyrics, as well as mentioning Stewie from "Family Guy" in a song and then immediately switching to the "Family Guy" theme song, which the entire crowd sung along to. The lyrics to Mac Lethal's songs were equally funny, referencing numerous pop culture tidbits ranging from Elaine's dance in Seinfeld to accidentally getting a DUI. The only problem with Mac Lethal's set was that he seemed to talk a little too much between each track, and might have relied a bit too much on cracking jokes and audience participation instead of performing his songs. Still, while Mac Lethal's set may have not been the technical best of the evening, it may very well have been the most entertaining. This guy knows how to get a crowd in a good mood! After Mac Lethal's stage show, P.O.S came out to finish off the evening as the headliner. His set contained all the energy and frantic urgency that I've come to expect from his live shows, and was probably the best of the evening. I was kind of surprised to find that almost the entire Ottobar crowd had P.O.S' lyrics memorized, which is a big step forward from opening as some obscure starter for Atmosphere. One of the major highlights of his set and of the evening was when Sims came back on stage to kick a track with him, and they both gave it their all. I can only imagine what a full Doomtree* performance on stage would be like if only the two of them can do that much damage. Great set overall, and an excellent evening to boot. * Doomtree is the Minneapolis hip hop crew that both P.O.S and Sims are part of, which also boasts the rappers Dessa, Mike Mictlan, and Cecil Otter, as well as the producers Lazerbeak, Marshall Larada, Paper Tiger, Turbo Nemesis (who was DJing for Sims and P.O.S at this concert), Emynd, and some others I'm probably forgetting at the moment... They perform full shows in Minneapolis, though I don't think the whole crew has performed outside of the Minnesota area before.

Wyvern nods in Yui's direction, then motions with a claw and watches as Bravery and Sexy step through the Cabaret Room doors. The Elder dwarves grunt as they lift a cloaked object between themselves, and hobble towards the back wall before setting it on the ground. Wyvern wanders to the wall and removes a "Buy Almost Dragonic Brand Woodie Shaving Tooth Picks™" poster that rests there, revealing a small sign on the wall that reads "Use this space only for important purposes!" He then snaps a claw, and Bravery and Sexy position the square object in the empty spot. They remove the cover of the object in a flourish, revealing a portrait of two clouds conjoined in perfect symmettry. On the lower frame of the portrait is a gold plaque, which reads Twin Skies born and bound as whole/ Bonds of friendship. Everlasting soul. OOC: Long live the World of the Two Skies... may its spirit always live on here in the Pen. :-)

Xesse taps her foot on the paperwork strewn under her chair and glances towards the Rolodex clock at the corner of the Office. Her eyes widen at the late position of the hour hand, and the prospect of waiting another week for a new world suddenly seems to lose its appeal. Her eyes focus on the second hand of the clock as it ticks by in sluggish fractions of an inch, wondering how much longer it might take for the infamous Elder of Initiates to arri- "Ssssssorry for being a lil' tardy." Xesse jumps up at the sound of a reptilian voice, and turns to find Wyvern standing by the Office door. The overgrown lizard sneers at her, then pauses in a quirky jerk and turns to slam the door behind himself. "Forgot the signature noisyness." Wyvern lets out a snicker, then hops towards his desk and pulls xesse's application sheet from the top of the paperwork pile. "Your last piece is still ssso vivid in my mind." Wyvern winks as his forked tongue flicks from his mouth in stalking serpent fashion. A smile grows on the lizard's face as his eyes reach the end of the page. "Ahha, a school teacher placed in a setting that should've fallen to Jafaar's knees if there was any justice in this fantasy world. Well, I have something that you might be interested in." Xesse raises a brow as Wyvern begins digging into the endless rubbage under his desk like some sort of scaled scavenger mole. The lizard resurfaces with a laugh, and holds out a worn, faded old rug for xesse to see. "It'sss a whooollle neeeewwwww mmuralllll (don't you dare close your eyes)!" Xesse cringes, caught between the sight of the ugly rug and Wyvern's off-pitch singing. "It evveeeennn uncurrrrlllllls (but don't sssay I didn't warn you)!" Xesse steps back as Wyvern approaches. "Wh-what is it?" "An Almost Dragonic Brand Magic Detention Office Rug™, perfect for any school teacher in search of adventure. Just watch it work its magical fogging powers!" Wyvern beats the rug down, and a huge cloud of white fills the room. After several fits of coughing, the dust settles and the white silouhette of xesse stares at Wyvern, unimpressed. Wyvern lets out a nervous laugh, then reaches for a stamp on his desk. "Ch-chalk dussst, don'tcha know..." Wyvern stamps xesse's application ACCEPTED, then sniffs and clutches his snout with a claw. The reptilian Elder's eyes widen in a knowing grip of fear, and he races out of the Office before any incendiary damage is done. ;-) OOC: An ACCEPTED application, xesse. Welcome to the Mighty Pen! I'm glad that you reapplied, and hope that you find us a welcoming and friendly community to share your writing in. I apologize for the lateness in responding, and look forward to reading more of your stuff and participating with you in community events. Once again, welcome!

Azuran awakens with a start, his head spinning as the ceiling moves by at a rapid pace, his arms and legs twitching to bumps and sharp dips. The dazed pennite wonders if he's somehow slipped into his "Slipping" piece in his sleep, then turns his eyes towards the ground and notices that he's being carried by four small hands. In front of the responsible parties, a familiar stinger-tipped tail swooshes left and right in an almost hypnotic pattern. "Wha-?" "Wyv." The ceiling over Azuran's head comes to a halt. "He's up." Wyvern turns his head towards Azuran and grins. The overgrown lizard shoves a mug of black liquid into the drowsy pennite's hand while the Elder dwarves lower him to the ground. "Here, sssip some of this, it'll wake ya up." "Wh-what's going on...?" Azuran takes a sip from the mug, then puckers his lips with a grimace as a bitter tang clogs his taste buds. He spits the liquid to the floor and gags, coughing in the hopes of ridding the flavor from his throat. "What the hell?! This stuff's awful!" "Almost Dragonic Brand Minotaur Milk and Volcanic Ash Blend.™" Wyvern stifles a snicker. "See, I told you it'd wake you up." Azuran spits the last of the blend from his mouth and glares at Wyvern, only to raise a brow as he notices that they're standing in the familiar surroundings of the Pen Cabaret Room. The dim lighting of the room seems to bath it in an unnaturally calm hue, and an open window reveals a cloudless night/early morning sky. "Wyv- what time is it?" "You know, Azuran, life is like a book." Wyvern grins and hands Azuran a copy of "Wyvern: The Autocratic Introspective." Its pages are slightly bent, and still smell of Carnival fish fry. "And you happen to be the newest Page. Congratulationsss!" Azuran stammers as the Cabaret Room lights flare up and a number of pennites jump out from behind the furniture to congratulate him. He trembles and goes pale as he mulls over Wyvern's statement, unable to even make out the words of the other pennites. "Dear God, I'm the newest page in 'Wyvern: The Autocratic Introspective'?!" Azuran stutters and bites his lip. "I'm DOOMED!" ;-) OOC: Congratulations to Azuran, newly promoted from Initiate to Page. :-)

Evangeline paces back and forth in the Recruiter's Office as the time ticks by, her thoughts consumed by the Elder of Initiates' absence and the meaning of 'Z.' Melba's voice drones on in the background, echoing from her position at her desk in the corner of the Office. "And then, the hen knight gavaltzed the evil poacher, saved her chicklets, and came home, where the other hens threw her a huge party. They hired many dancing cocks for the occa-" "Ms. Melba, do you know when Wyvern will be arriving?" Evangeline turns towards the Almost Secretary and stomps a foot. "This is really intolerable." Just as Evangeline says the word "intolerable," the door of the Recruiter's Office swings open and Wyvern dashes in. The overgrown lizard performs a quick bow, then snatches up Evangline's application from his desktop and skims over the preliminary remarks. He flashes a toothy grin in Evangeline's direction, then clears his throat of a few ashes and breaks into an amelodic song. "A B C D E F Geeeee," Wyvern steps towards Evangeline as he sings. "E L D J M O N E... Y. Now you know my A B ssssCs, next time I might sing for freeeee." Evangline twists her face and raises a brow as Wyvern extends a claw. "That'll be 12 geld." "Errrrr." Evangeline shakes her head and stares at the lizard as if he might be insane. "What about my application?" "Wait, lemme check it out." Wyvern reads over the poem on Evangeline's sheet, then nods and shivers at the second reference to water. "Yep, I'm afraid that you won't find any Godsss here either, though we may have a few Demigods to talk to here and there. Now, if you'd please hand over that song fee, we can-" Wyvern freezes as he notices Melba featherdusting the Anti-Wyvern Mallet at her desk, long forgotten but just as blunt-looking as ever. He strikes a nervous grin, then quickly stamps Evangeline's application ACCEPTED. ;-) OOC: An ACCEPTED application song, Evangeline. Welcome to the Mighty Pen! I hope that you find us an friendly and welcoming community to share your writing with. I'm looking forward to reading more of your work and participating with you in community events. Once again, welcome!

Wyvern grins and tosses in a few more quotes for the occasion: "It's my personal opinion that feedback from Cyril is WELL worth waiting for. " ~ quote Salinye "So few lines; so much depth. As always you grace us with your words, [Cyril]." ~ quote Mira "Cyril Darkcloud: Thank you for such an in-depth response! I've been meaning forever (assuming forever started with me first seeing your reply) to reply here, if only just to thank you." ~ quote Loki Wyrd "Glad to see you [Cyril] for *any* five minutes you have." ~ quote Ayshela "Thank you so much Cyril! I really appreciate the thought and attention that you have given to my work. By all means, critique me anytime!" ~ quote Cheyenne "I love your feedback - even if it were all an illusion - and you didn't think before you posted - you cause ME to think." ~ quote Peredhil "Cyril, you do the most awesome comments, I thank you once again" ~ quote Gwaihir "Buy two Almost Dragonic Brand Cyrileun Owlish Emblem Tees™, and get one Almost Dragonic Brand Dark n Cloudy Bobble Brain™ at 50% off... with no downpayments FOR THE FIRST THREE MONTHS!!" ~ quote Wyvern. Wyvern cringes as several angry well-wisher eyes glare him down. He backs up into a corner of the room, then squeaks: "Happy Birthday" ~ quote the masses. ;-) OOC: Hope you had a great one, Cyril. :-)

Wyvern barges through the Cabaret Room doors and swoops up to Evangeline. The reptilian Elder shakes her hand with a firm claw and winks, nudging her with a scaly shoulder and flashing her one of his razor-sharp sneers. "Pleasssure to meet ya, Asangelochva! Name's Wyvern, and I can assure you that this is far from a purely writing-oriented community... it's also the perfect place to plug your products to the gullible masses. Just sign here on the dotted line, right under the part where it reads 'and fan Wyvern with a large peacock feather.'" Evangeline gags as Wyvern extends a stinky mold-encrusted document written in jagged red letters. She raises a hand to decline it. "No?" Wyvern crumples the paper and tosses it over his shoulder. "Well, as a fellow film enthusiassst and *ahem* critically-acclaimed film director, I can understand your suspicions. Let me fetch you my resume." Wyvern whips out a folder labeled "Devil's Advocate" and mumbles something incoherent under his breath. He then pulls out a clean piece of paper from the folder and hands it to Evangeline. "Listen, are you listening? I'm gonna cut some corners and get straight to the chase... I want to direct a full length feature of your hit story "My Sister's Doll," with Ayshela playing the role of Mama and plenty of Almost Dragonic Brand Semi-Diseased Raggedy Angel Doll™ product placement. Just sign twice on the dotted lines on these seventeen pages and you should be-" "There's nothing on this resume." Evangeline frowns and holds out the blank piece of paper that Wyvern had handed her. "Ah." Wyvern snatches the paper back and lets out a nervous laugh, then bows to Evangeline. "Welcome to the Pen, feel free to apply in the Recruiter's Office whenever you see fit- just remember to bring the appropriate bribe!" ;-)