Wyvern

Hi all, First of all, I apologize for not posting at the Pen much this week. I had an enormous work load which has now just about cleared up, and I should be back to my regularly scheduled Pen posting shortly. Let's see... My show last week on Galapagos4 did not go well due to technical difficulties with station equipment, but I'm hoping to more than make up for it with my show tonight. I really want to extend my thanks to both Yui and Zariah for their generous advertisements and news announcements, they're definitely much appreciated. :-) Hopefully some of you pennites will tune in and perhaps even drop Zariah and myself a line over the phone... I promise I won't overcharge your phone bill too much. ;-p Pen Positive... it's the soundtrack of Silly the Elder Dwarf waitering Mexican jumping beans to Happybuddha. It's that sound you hear when Ozymandias opens the Cabaret Room doors with a creak, and you just know you have a promotion coming. It's the antithesis of the Racouolettes, that long happy laugh from musicevangelist after cryptomancer explains the effects of neon pixystix on Minta Rose. T-minus 3 hours and 7 minutes, and counting... ;-) "Any Given Moment" Thursdays, 8:00 PM - 10:00 PM US EST Listen online at http://www.gwradio.com Call-in: (202) 994-9749 AIM: RGWradio

Wyvern skids into the Cabaret Room upon hearing that new banners have been tacked onto the walls, expecting to find Almost Dragonic advertisements but being met by another significant birthday announcement. Scratching his scaly chin, the overgrown lizard waves to Gwaihir cheerfully, then dashes out of the Room in search of a few pertinent birthday items. He returns to the room carrying a large sheet of glass, along with what appears to be a tattered feather. "Happy birthday, Gwaihir." The lizard stumbles towards the elf, nearly dropping the glass in the process. "I got you this sheet of Almost Dragonic Brand Protective Glass™ to make up for that little greenhouse incident I caused." Gwaihir examines the sheet of glass blankly, pretending to ignore the glass doorknob that's connected to the front of it. "Gee, thanks Wyv... a couple of more sheets of glass, and it'll be almost like it never happened." "I also got you this raven feather" hisses Wyvern, handing Gwaihir the dark feather. "It's a leftover prop from that 'Tales from the Cryptomancer' story 'Stark Raven Mad,' dropped by cryptomancer in his raven form when flapping his wings in confusion. I figure it might help if you ever feel the need to make up with Zariah..." Wyvern winks and bows, saluting the Deputy Loremaster and turning towards Shadows, PS, and Hannah in turn. The reptilian Elder wishes each of the three girls a Happy Birthday, and hands each of them a tall glass of Bruteweiser before departing from the room in a hurry.

Wyvern would like a turtle soup with chocolate fish, cooked at minus 30 degrees celsius and topped with a Butterflower that blooms northern lights. The soup should be served by a courteous kitten in a kimono dress, preferably one affilitiated to Gargomel's feline accomplice. It should particularly appeal to paranoid musicians who spin CDs that speak on how the government gives guilty dragons acquittals for their crimes. Oh, and a small coffee on the side, please. Wyvern sets down his menu and looks towards cryptomancer expectantly, evoking several awkward glances from surrounding pennites. "What?! This isn't a diner?!"

I think that this is a fantastic poem, drummondo. It caught my attention from the very first stanza with its original approach, and didn't let go until the powerful closing repetition that tied things together. I loved the original similes, metaphors and details that you used throughout this piece, particularly those of life as an untitled poetry collection and the thought of the everyday soundtrack skipping. I also thought the final stanza did a great job of unifying the poem, especially with the last line which really showed the importance of the "She" in the poem. In terms of potential things to improve: the word "Click" struck me as a bit odd, both in the second stanza and the final stanza, and you want to consider a word to replace it. Also, the second-to-last stanza seemed to move into more general territory with the lines "Passion is best left/ To those in its embrace," which didn't strike me as much as the rest of the poem. Finally, while I found the rhyme scheme of the fourth stanza very interesting, I was uncertain of its role in the stanza and it felt a bit out of place to me in the context of the rest of the poem. Once again, brilliant stuff! This poem was a breath of fresh air to me.

Wyvern barges into the room upon hearing that numbers are being rounded up, pausing as he notices the birthday gathering at hand. Grinning and nodding appreciatively in the direction of Valdar, the lizard reaches into a cardboard box that he's carrying and pulls out a not-so-neatly packaged gift, which is topped with a few uncurled ribbons. Wyvern frowns at the state of the ribbons for a moment, then rummages through his tunic and grips one of the ten Swiftness Potions he has available. The powerful glow of the formula engulfs the area for a moment as Wyvern holds it up, causing Rydia to wander towards the glittering vial in awe. "Shiiiiiinnnnnnnnnyyyyyyyyyy." Wyvern hands the illuminated vial to Rydia in her mesmerized state, taking advantage of her fascination by using her pointy ears as a means of curling the ribbons that rest on top of Valdar's gift. Satisfied with the appearence of the present, Wyvern turns to Valdar and hands him the gift, winking and explaining: "It's an Almost Dragonic Brand Q-Tip Javelin™... perfectly for both knocking nasty astral enemies over and cleaning out blood from ears when battles have ended. Have a great birthday, Valdar!" With that, Wyvern takes the remaining cardboard box and turns to Aardvark, grinning and handing it to him. "Wassis?" mutters Aardvark, glancing into the box as he tries on the fashionable straight jacket given to him as a gift from Merelas. "There's nothing in this box." "It'sss a watch tower for your impenetrable fortress of boxy doom." The lizard nudges Aardvark with a scaly shoulder and lets out a long hiss. "Happy birthday, you megalomaniac you." ;-p

Infection jumped up and down on top of Mynx's closed mouth, his tiny feet not even denting the surface of her feline lips. He paused in exhaustian and cursed at his lack of a Cough Crowbar, glancing towards Flu and Nausea for a moment. The two symptoms were discussing the age-old argument of whether it was the Nausea or the Flu that came first, and seemed to be oblivious to him in the heat of their argument. He carefully tip-toed towards Mynx's left nostril, cautiously glancing in all directions before sticking his head inside... "What the-" blurted Runny Nose from his hiding place, spilling a large stream of snot. "Infection? What're you-?!" Flu and Nausea both turned in the direction of Runny Nose's voice, only to find Infection with his head stuck in Mynx's left nostril. The two of them laughed and began pointing their fingers. "Hey, Infection" yelled Nausea amidst guffaws. "Don't you know that nasal pathways went out with, like, Flinstones Vitamin C tablets?" "Reminds me of the time you came up with that 'brilliant idea,'" Flu jeered. "Y'know, the one about 'infecting' the exhaust pipes of cars to spread germs quicker?" The two of them laughed heartily as Runny Nose aided Infection in dislodging himself from the nostril. Infection wiped the mucus from his face and sulked once freed, avoiding the sneers of Flu and Nausea. The four of them turned their heads to the sky, however, as the sound of ringing trumpets signaled the presence of a figure in flight. "It's a bird!" cried Runny Nose. "It's a plane!" exclaimed Infection. "Oh, it's a plane alright" said Flu, still sneering as the figure landed. "A plain antibiotic. Next, please." "I'm not just any old antibiotic" boomed the caped pill in a squeaky voice. "I'm Almost Dragonic Brand, sealed and approved!" "Oh" said Nausea. "Well, in that case, welcome to the club. You can start by helping Infection open that mouth over there." ;-p

Update: my show last week based around the streets and poverty was definitely one of my less exciting shows, so nobody really missed much in not tuning in. The theme was flipped correctly and different cities were also touched upon, but the music was somber and depressing to the point where the show kind of dragged on after a while. Ah well, can't win'em all... The Mighty Pen crew and reverie were still shouted out, of course. This Thursday (4/7/05), I'll be doing a show on a highly innovative Chicago hip hop crew known as Galapagos4, who are seriously underrated and have released a number of excellent albums. Offwhyte, one of Galapagos4's top M.Cs, is going to be calling in from his day job for an on-air interview, which should be funny. I love Galapagos4's stuff and would definitely recommend checking it out. Next Thursday (4/14/05) is marked as the date for my super positive upbeat hip hop show, which I'd really like to involve the Pen in as callers and participants. For starters, Zariah will be guesting in-studio as a co-host for the entire show, so callers will have a chance to chat with the two of us. My offer of leftover sampler CDs/notebook pages also remains, and the show will hopefully be recorded and archived as an MP3. Mark the date on your calender and PM me if you're interested in calling in at any point from 8:00 PM - 10:00 PM US EST on April 14th! The number, once again, is (202) 994-9749.

Wyvern slides into the Cabaret Room wearing a fluffy white chef hat and a tattered cooking apron. Tagging a pin that reads "Belated Almost Dragonic Brand Creative Birthday Responses, Volume Two" to his outfit, he waves a claw in the air and strikes a toothy grin to the audience of one. Shiny the Elder Dwarf, dressed in a drive-in waitress outfit with traditional shiny rollerblades, claps her hands glumly in long minute intervals as the lizard hobbles towards the makeshift cooking table. She sighs and glances at her glow-in-the-dark watch as the lizard dumps cooking utensils onto the table, feeling a sudden urge to skate a figure eight the heck out of the room. "Greetingsss, and welcome to the Almost Dragonic Brand Traditional Birthday Cooking Show, a belated celebration for several significant pennite birthdays. I'm your host, Wyvern D. Almostchef, and this is my assistant Shiny A. Halfawaitress. We'll be covering several significant recipes this eve-" Wyvern pauses as something explodes within a nearby oven, and quickly signals to Shiny to cover for it. The Elder Dwarf gracefully skates towards the messy oven as Wyvern jumps at a pot that has begun the overflow, clamping a lid onto it and sealing it with duct tape. The lizard flashes a nervous grin, then hisses: "Our firssst recipe of the evening is Loki Wyrd Cupcakes, an intriguing delicacy that will go perfectly with your next poetry gathering. The cupcakes must be cooked at a low key temperature, and should obviously be baked in weird shapes. Atop each cupcake should be placed a small gem... unfortunately I'm uncertain how many are needed per batch. Needless to say they're deliciousss. Shiny, the batch!" Shiny nods and grabs a large platter that has been set in the corner of the room. She clinches a pin over her nose and heads towards Wyvern's table, setting the tray down only to reveal that the sample batch of cupcakes has become moldy. Wyvern cringes as he looks over the batch, noticing that the pastries date back to January 24, 2005 . He sighs and shakes his head. "Delicious" repeats the overgrown lizard apologetically, taking the batch and tossing it to the side. "For the next part of our program, we'd like to demonstrate how to remove kitten hairs from cake batter using only your bare hands. Shiny, the doors." Shiny nods and removes the pin from her nose, pocketing it as she skates and twirls to the Cabaret Room doors. She opens the doors and stumbles backwards as a hoard of kitten minions swarms into the room, accompanied by a disco howler monkey and a kitten-covered Loremaster (who howls even louder than the monkey). As kittens begin invading the kitchen area and nibbling on the moldy cupcakes, Wyvern exclaims: "Now, it helps if you have a Gryphon 's talon for this process to be accurate, but it really is simply a matter of knocking out the surrounding kittens long enough to search for the hairs in the batter. If worse comes to worse, you can substitute the cake recipe with a banana split... disco howler monkies are good at that sorta thing, after all." The kittens are chased back out of the room by Ozymandias, who manages to untangle them from his tunic long enough to air a few menacing death threats. Wyvern watches in amusement as the Loremaster goes racing after them, his curses echoing down the hall. "Always nice to see someone supporting the death and destruction of cute and innocent kittens..." The lizard clears his throat of a few ashes and grins. "Up next, a piece of useful cooking advice for aspiring cooks transfering into college. Remember: the size of kitchens in the dormitories should play a significant role in determing where you end up, don't fall into a revery thinking that all colleges cater to cooks. Of course, you could always invest in a nifty Almost Dragonic Brand Portable Kitchen™ while supplies last, though apparently the offer ends on March 31rst. Wyvern considers this for a moment, then lets out a long sigh when he realizes that that was about a week ago. Shrugging to himself, he signals to Shiny with a claw and watches as the Elder dwarf fetches him an odd-looking appliance. "For the final part of this show, I'll be advertising a new kind of kitchen utensil." Wyvern grins as he grabs the pair of Almost Dragonic Brand Mannequin Arms™ from Shiny's hands. "Introducing Almost Dragonic Brand Prosthetic Limb Potholders™, built from the same products you may have seen such celebrities as Tanuchan use in the Recruiter's Office. Observe." Shiny backs away as Wyvern uses the arms to grab at the duct-tape sealed pot, managing to clench it just as the top explodes and goes flying into the air. The lizard lifts the pot only to be struck on the head as the lid falls and hits him, collapsing over and dumping the boiling water onto himself in the process. Shiny slaps a hand on her forehead and shuts her eyes as almost dragonic screams echo through the Cabaret Room for a long moment. ;-p OOC: A Happy belated to all. ;-)

I really liked the original details that were incorporated throughout this story, as sensory descriptions such as Vassily's bedroom filling with "whisperings like dried leaves scraping against each other" made for a vivid read. The concept of Lena having a servant pose as a member of the family line to make it seem as if it had never been broken was also very intriguing, and seemed like an interesting and original solution to the conflict of inheritence. As always, I greatly admire your approach to writing, as you rarely seem to state facts outright and leave a great deal to the reader to deduce from the narrative. Having said this, after reading through this piece a number of times, I have to say that it leaves me feeling somewhat frustrated and unfufilled. I was confused as to who the protagonist of the story was, as the point of view seems to switch from the priest to Lena to the servant, yet never quite feels universal at any point. Lena ultimately struck me as the central character of the story, but I never picked up on what her relationship to Vassily or the household was, since she doesn't seem to be related to the Vassilivich family and actually comes off as fairly bitter towards them in her comments. More frustrating to me were certain details that were added but never resolved or hinted at, such as the secrets that Lena whispers to Vassily before his death (then again, if this was meant as an introductory post to a longer story, these resolutions still could be coming). Another thing that struck me was that certain sentences seemed a bit jumbled and overburdened with dependent clauses, which is something that I'm often guilty of in my own writing. I normally love your style and the way you structure your words, but sentences such as "From the darkness on the other side of the bed, someone struck a flint—and legless, voiceless Fyodor, who had sat by the church door for more years than Lena had lived, while his beard crept toward the ground and assumed the duties of his rotting coat, was visible for a moment as his stump of a candle sputtered and died." struck me as confusing and overburdened with phrases, and could probably be split up into several sentences for a bit of clarity. Anyway, this still struck me as a very ambitious piece of writing. Thank you for posting and sharing it. I apologize for taking so long in leaving a comment on it, but felt it merited several reads before reaching a verdict. Normally, your writing initially confuses me, then leaves me feeling incredibly rewarded after several reads through. Unfortunatly, this piece simply left me confused.

- Part 1: Maxon the Kahn - "Gray-eyed Athena sent them a favorable breeze, a fresh west wind, singing over the wine-dark sea." - Homer, Odyssey, II, l. 420 --- "Just remember, when Orin arrives, the three of you should stand, then kneel." Katherina Lumenda flashed a happy smile towards the conference table, the proud gleam in her eyes reflecting upon her three soldiers of choice. Jadros Syrn sat upright in his seat around the center, his large presence unavoidable with his hands curved together upon the table. Next to him sat Lelianye Ghen, small and frail when sized against him, her eyes occasionally turning from the table to meet Katherina's glances. Matthias Foundling leaned back a few seats down from Jadros and Lelianye, less apparent then the other two, almost blending into his seat as his eyes wandered over the decorative ceiling of the chamber. "About time this day arrived." Katherina paced back and forth near the table, her attention still focussed on the three. "I hope you realize how proud I am of the three of you. I'm sure that this mission will be a success thanks to your talents and bravery. People like you really give our third division a good name." Jadros broke into a small smile while Lelianye cast a larger one. Matthias simply nodded from his seat, almost non-existant in his presence. "The other choices won't be touching you guys." Katherina winked towards them. "Just wait and see." A few moments later, the doors leading into the conference chamber creaked open and Rald Wexsler entered in, two figures walking at his side. Jade Corriper paced at his left, her lithe form moving fluidly and her eyes catching sight of Katherina and the others. Merlyn Avogadro walked at Rald's right, glancing about at the murals of the chamber and nodding to the captain's nervous demands. "The two of you are representing the first division." Rald's voice sounded rushed and strict, with a hint of shakey anxiety. "You will stand and bow when Orin enters, and you will be silent as he speaks. You will listen carefully and will obey his every word. Keep in mind that he is far superior to you in rank and class. He is superior to even myself." "Hello Rald" chimed Katherina, halting in her pacing and nodding towards him. "Hasn't let up, I see." "Good day to you Katherina" Rald brushed off the rain water caught on his balding head and shook his cloaks a few times. "I'm afraid not, miserable weather." Jade and Merlyn took seats opposite from Jadros and Lelianye at the large conference table. Matthias eyed the two of them curiously from his position as Katherina approached Jade, a word caught on the tip of her tongue. "Grasshopper" Katherina said after a long moments pause, pointing a finger towards her. "You're 'Grasshopper' aren't you? I've heard of you from Gerald... quite the acrobat, from what he described." "The very one" interrupted Rald before Jade could reply, allowing himself a little smile. "And this is Merlyn, the finest technician the first division has to offer." "Pleased to meet you." Katherina shook both of their hands. The two captains turned their heads as the entrance to the conference hall swung open again and Gerald Hitorin walked in, dribbling loose rain water in his long strides. Behind him paced the looming figure of Hrath Vors, instantly noticeable to those gathered by his height and gruff appearence. Katherina immediately turned away as Hrath sat himself at an available seat, clenching a fist and moving towards a corner of the room for a moment. Rald glanced to Gerald and smiled. "Greetings Gerald. Only one soldier from your division?" "I'm a little selective" said Gerald, grinning at Rald for a brief moment. He turned as Katherina tugged at his arm. "Gerald" hissed Katherina from clenched teeth, motioning in the direction of Hrath and glaring with an anger that bordered on rage. Gerald sneered at her, already anticipating her reaction. "Can we talk for a moment? If you think you're teaming that creep with my soldiers, you are out of your mi-" Katherina stopped short as the sound of the entrance doors shutting caught her attention, and the soldiers all stood from their seats as Orin walked into the room. The captains and soldiers bowed one by one as Orin approached, and the captains lifted themselves from their positions once he halted. The six soldiers remained kneeling, as instructed, as Orin's fluid voice echoed through the large chamber. "This special meeting is now in session. Welcome to all of you, the selected. I am Orin, a military advisor and associate of his majesty Emperor Neren. Please, be seated." Orin brushed a trace of rain from his regal blue and grey attire as the soldiers took their seats again. He faced them and moved his eyes from one to the other as he spoke, his tone always calm and firm. "As I'm certain you've learned from your respective captains, you have been selected and called here today to undertake a mission of critical importance. You have hopefully been informed of Maxon the Kahn's journey West to the Kii Penninsula, and are aware of the task that rests before you. The assasination of a leader of Maxon's stature would be a significant blow to the Rebels, perhaps enough to qwel their resistance entirely. We will be counting on you to fufill the deed." Orin took out a sheet of paper as his eyes passed over the six. "Each of you has been selected for your exceptional skills and abilities, which have stood out from within your respective divisions. Jadros Syrn, for your tactical expertise and extensive experience. Jade Corriper, for your agility and unique approach to combat. Hrath Vors, for your skills in melee combat and speedy reflexes. Merlyn Avogadro, for your abilities as a talented chemist and fighter. Lelianye Ghen, for your skills in infiltration and devotion to the Confederacy. And Matthias Foundling, for your mastery of the art of disguise and assassination." Orin paused for a moment, folding the paper and pocketing it. "The six of you are hereby collectively known as the special unit 'Lymnor's Hand,' through which the Confederacy shall grip the Rebellion at its core. Your mission will commence tommorow at dawn, and you will ride Northwest to the town of Glenfurel. There, you will meet a tactician of the Confederacy by the name of Atlas, who will coordinate the rest of your mission to the Kii Penninsula and will aid you in infiltrating the ranks of the Looms. Atlas can be found at Gurn's Smithy in Glenfurel, where he works under the guise of a blacksmith's assistant. Simply ask for Atlas by the order of Lymnor's Hand, and he will understand." Orin looked to each of the soldiers and captains to make sure he was understood, then nodded. "You have the rest of the day to make any final preperations before departing. Our thoughts will be with you in your endeavors, and your mission's success will result in the highest honours for each of you. This meeting is hereby dismissed." As Orin turned and departed, the soldiers lifted themselves from their seats. The three captains waited and watched until each of the six soldiers left, at which point Rald turned and exited from the chamber. Gerald began to follow him out, but halted when Katherina grasped his shoulder. "Not so fast, Mr. Selective." Katherina scowled at him, her grip tightening and her nails pressing against his tunic. "You've still got some explaining to do."

Wyvern collapses in a panic as the flaming demon mocks him with his sneer, trembling in a heap of scales for several minutes as he considers the horrendous hacking work that may be at hand. The lizard carefully reads over the pointers, his jaw dropping at the phrase "THIS PAGE IS DOOMED!" and his beady eyes widening at the increasing insanity of the options/directions offered. It is only when he reaches the reference to "More Information" that the reptilian Elder decides to breath again, letting out a few enormous smoke rings of relief and dispelling a final shiver of anxiety. OOC: I agree with Gyrfalcon that this joke was awesome! It completely freaked me out, and was the one joke today that completely caught me off-guard (and made me panic for a minute). Nice one, Yui. ;-)

Wyvern bites on the tip of his Almost Dragonic Brand Humming Bird Quill™ as he looks over the red ink that he's scrawled on Cerulean's dialect sample, pondering the marketability of the resulting product. The lizard accidentally swallows the tiny feather writing utensil as he hands the translation to Cerulean, gagging for a moment and coughing it up with a bit of ash while she skims over the parchment. Ridiculous Reading of Regional Riddling An Almost Dragonic Translation. - Tow rate ark? ----> What is the towing rate for moving that ark? - Ar, at they? ----> I'm a pirate. Do you really want to move a pirate's ark? - Arm owrate burrem famished ----> Ow, stop gripping my arm like that! Listen, I know you're hungry, so I'm offering beer and rum. - Ar, ar am 'n ow! ----> You see that I'm a pirate now! - Lets goo 'n get some rates pies ----> Would you let go! Can I get a rate please? - A conna, ar onna gorenny money ----> Can't let go until I see if you have any money. - Nar, ar onna ayther ----> No, no that's hay there. - Weerst toffter? ----> Where's the coffer? - Arm gooin wom, at cummin? - ---> Where's the...? Come again? - Nar, a conna, arve got stee eer! ----> I can't visit you again, I've got a ship to steer! - Ast? Warsthat? ----> Ship? Like a warship? - Eest pee dee t'dee, n may mum's bad in bed, n arve gorra weet fer me fayther mak sure ay goos street wom! ----> Eh, it's pretty tidy, since my mommy comes every May and cleans it up a tad. I've gotta buy some wheat for my daddy, but I'll act like your hay is wheat if you don't have any money. Now, loosen those pockets! ;-)

Update: My show on Weightless' catalogue last week went well, and I was actually surprised to find how much material I have from them when compiling my playlist (around eleven CDs worth, not counting guest appearences on compilations). Blueprint and Fess, two of Weightless' head artists, actually tuned into the show and gave me props for it afterwards, which is always nice. :-) The show was highlighted by a sub-set I decided to do on Weightless tracks revolving around women, and plenty of Pen gals got shout outs (Salinye, Wrenwind, Mynx, and Cerulean to name only a few.) This Thursday (i.e today, 3/31/05) I'm going to do a show based around the streets, the ghetto, and poverty. The show should be interesting as the tracks I'll be playing expand a wide range of items in my catalogue, some of which I only give spins on rare occasions. If anyone has a poem that they've written about inner-city class struggles, or would like to speak about their impressions or experiences with the ghetto, my line is always open for guest Pen callers. :-) On a similar note: I'm going to be doing another show on "Happy Hip Hop" some time in the near future, and would like to try and round up as many Pen callers as I can get for it. The theme of this show is "having fun," and people are encouraged to call in and give Pen shout outs/play silly games with me over the air. This will be the second time I've taken a shot at this theme, and I feel its worth revisiting since I had a great time with the first one (Big Pointy One and Tamaranis both called in). I'll be adding a bunch of new positive and upbeat tracks into the mix, and this show will also hopefully be recorded and archived as an MP3 (I've found pennites capable and interested in doing this: Akallabeth and Cyril Darkcloud respectively). My aim for this one is five Pen callers, and to increase interest I'll be giving away little CD sampler prizes to the first few callers, which I will send to the callers along with (get this) random scrap pages with doodles from some of my old notebooks! Yep, I have no shame.... No date has been set yet for this show, but it will likely either be next Thursday (April 7th) or the Thursday after that (April 14th). If there are any people who are already interested in calling in, feel free to PM me and give me a heads up. ;-) Thanks for reading!

I think that both of these are fantastic poems, Loki Wyrd. I found the imagery in "Capacity of 1" very vivid and evocative, particularly in the depiction of the chlorine biting at the man's nose and the image of the man swimming against the friction of the waves. The repetition of his "wide, swift strokes" and the inclusion of the opposing flow suggested to me a strong metaphorical depiction of struggle. Your word choice and phrasing were also excellent ("slough's ebb," for example), though the fourth and sixth lines struck me as a bit more wordy with their adjectives than the rest of the poem. An excellent piece of poetry, overall. "An Amorphous Pause" was similarly breathtaking in its phrasing and imagery, especially in the description and clever arrangement of the lines "ashen cigarette butts/ Deposited on the toilet seat." The poem came across as more directly philosophical than "Capacity of 1" yet was no less fascinating to me, as the impossible struggle to achieve penance was referenced in a very strong manner. Another great piece. Of minor note and out of pure curiousity: is there a reason for the first initial of every line to be capitalized in these poems? Wyvern humbles himself in front of Loki Wyrd's poetry expertise. :-)

- Prologue - It was like a knife piercing through a bleeding wound of sky. Marcus Tormellus' child eyes reflected a hint of the moonlight as he stared from the window of the empty Antaen conference hall, his thoughts momentarily lost to the waves of midnight clouds. The great halls were deserted and barren, and his footsteps clicked in hollow echoes as he passed through the rows of tables, his necklaces rattling loudly until he reached a spot at his empty podium. He stood there for a moment, head tilted downward, hands motionless, and opened his mouth as if to air a silent scream. "You're up late." Marcus tilted his head upward and squinted, Rald Wexsler's lantern shining a dim light through the room. The scrawny first division leader seemed to be little more than flesh and bones from his position at the hall entrance, like some eery spectral presence in the dead of night. He moved forward, narrowing his eyes in Marcus' direction. "Why are you up?" Marcus shrugged, turning towards the window as to not make eye contact with Rald. "I asked: why are you up?" Rald stepped forward, the light following him as he passed by the tables towards the area of the shadowed podium. "Why are you up, Marcus?" "Couldn't sleep." Marcus' voice came out in a croak and he coughed twice, like a child with a bad cold. "Couldn't sleep?" Rald paused, holding the lantern up and shining some light on Marcus' cloak. He smiled a little. "So, the Maxon news has caused a stir here as we- " Marcus turned coldly, a hand raised to his necklaces. "You know what I mean, Rald." Rald glanced towards the ground for a moment, the lanterns light casting long shadows across the barren chamber. "What did you expect?" Rald stared at Marcus hard, trying to make contact with his eyes. "It's been a few years now. You're frightened...?" "Terrified." Marcus turned his back to Rald, his voice shakey. "It's not the same. Not the same once you know the date." "You've had it coming." Rald breathed a long sigh, and a long moment of silence passed. "You know, I once heard that death is nothing more than a whirling darkness-" "Well you heard wrong." Marcus' voice brimmed on anger as he wheeled towards Rald, his eyes wide with desperation. "I've seen death. The face of the thing that did this to me- never whirling, struck. Death is a terror, Rald. Remember." Marcus smirked at Rald in an awkward moment of silence, then turned and passed by him, moving towards the door leading to his chambers. "Not that you would know, from your experience." Rald followed Marcus with his eyes as he moved towards the doorway, his voice now tinged with bitterness. "Enjoy your last weeks alive, Accursed." And the door shut with a firm snap.

Charion the Performing Ant raised his feelers in the air in the middle of a personal rendition of "Old Ant Mary," his lyre's vibrations slowly coming to a stand-still as a dark shadow enveloped the area surrounding him. The Ant's feelers twitched in circles for a moment, only to twist into a knot of shock as they observed the collosal figure looming before them. The monstrosity was huge, standing the size of a sturdy thirty-story building and boasting an enormous full-plated advertisement billboard as a suite of armor. The billboard flashed the words "Buy Almost Dragonic Brand Crusty Booze-Flavored Toothpaste™" in an horrendous amalgam of neon pink, deep blue, and turqois green, enough to send any lesser-mortal into epileptic seizures. From the monster's thighs jutted two enormous boomboxes, which promptly began playing a cheap rendition of the menacing horn melodies found in Godzilla movies... complete with the occasional token shriek of "Godzirrra!" Fastened to the creatures legs were millions of abandoned tax forms, their countless numbers producing an aura of fear amongst the indebted. Two enormous Almost Dragonic Brand Jumbo Giant Pens™ crowned the enormous monster-machine's head, inkless yet menacing in their bravado-inducing splendor. Attached to the beasts knee caps were monstrous erasers, which occasionally sent out a gust of eraser dust whenever a breeze hit. The gigantic machine's maw was filled with millions of sharp quills for teeth, along with a huge musical tuning fork for a tongue. In one lead-knuckled fist the monster held a whale-sized paintbrush, while in the other he carried a gigantic cement rendition of the Codex of the Mighty Pen. On the beast's metallic left buttox was painted a scantily clad version of Sister Muse, while on the right was an equally tantalizing rendition of Sister War... the two acting as a perfect mooning distraction device for last-resort fleeing. Most disturbing was the machine's facial design, which bore strikingly ugly features reminscent of a certain overgrown lizard... "Totally... a... Dragon." The gargantuan machines voice boomed out at uncontrolable volumes, flat and machinical. Slowly, it lifted one sharpened-pencil-toed foot to move forward. "Totally... a..." The enormous monster tripped over a tiny sapling tree, snapping a pencil and tumbling downwards. It crashed with a loud grinding of metal, collapsing into a million pieces as soon as it hit the ground. ;-)

Wyvern stumbles along through the shadows as he follows the glowing footprint trail set by Ayshela, nearly knocking over a fragile lamp with his tail as he arrives at the Birthday Room set up in the Cabaret. Sneaking into the chamber in the hopes of maintaining the atmosphere that Ayshela has set, the overgrown lizard approaches a table for gifts and reaches into his tunic, pulling out an Almost Dragonic Brand Holy-Water-Resistant Chalice™ filled with a strong blend of Bloody Mary. Setting it on the table, the lizard begins crossing his claws in the hopes that Tamaranis had a good day, then thinks better of it and simply hisses: "Happy Birthday, Tamaranisss! Hope you had a great day." Wyvern pats Tamaranis on the back with a claw and bows, departing from the chamber and wondering if a certain band of outlaws threw a wild party for Jadros the other day...? ;-) OOC: Happy birthday, Tamaranis.

A very nice assassination narrative, YanYanGanaffi. I particularly liked the poetic language that you incorporated in the first paragraph, as the descriptions of the "koi" reflections and the cricket "concert" were both very vivid and original details. I also really liked the manner that you radically shifted the tone of the paragraph with the unexpected instance of Yuki's death, as the detail of Gamo's sword penetrating Yuki's kidney caught me off guard and evoked confusion before I realized that it was an assasination. The rest of the story, while not as brilliantly detailed as the first paragraph, read very fluidly and was well-written and stylistic prose. One thing that I'd be curious to see more of in this story is Gamo's partner in crime, the konichi posing as a servant girl, who is introduced around the end of the piece. I was interested in seeing the manner that the Gamo and the girl might interact, and what their relations to one another might be. Perhaps you could offer a moment of them plotting the mission, or a brief exchange between them after they acknowledge the mission accomplished? Well done, YanYanGanaffi.

I found this is a refreshingly original story, Sweetcherrie. :-) The entire dialogue that occured between the vendor and the protagonist was very thought-provoking and interesting to read, and your humorous moments in their interactions worked nicely as well. I especially liked when the vendor mistook the protagonist as someone trying to sell him a question when she initially approached him, as the line "I’m sorry I sell questions, I don’t buy them." was a very witty and original manner to start off their exchanges. I also really liked how you never directly revealed what the protagonists question was, and instead insinuated it through what the answer of it might be in her dialogue. The only part of the story that I didn't like as much was the final paragraph, as I felt that it offered a solution to the protagonists conflict in too abrupt and too perfect a manner. If that paragraph were simply dropped and the story ended with her handing the vendor the unanswered question and leaving, I think it would make for a more intriguing conclusion to the piece. Once again, great stuff Sweetcherrie. Your eye for odd details and original approach never cease to impress me.

Wyvern stutters happily as he darts his eyes to each of the generous pennites, already hoarding his gifts of geld by mounting the coins of Zadown, Venefyxatu, Gyrfalcon, and Cyril Darkcloud on top of Finnius' enormous sack. His forked tongue hangs loose as thoughts of the tantalizing sylph cross his mind and cause him to swoon, and he twists his tail hoping that the imaginary world of the Ring of Wondrous Hallucinations contains similar delights. Grinning towards Celes Crusador, the lizard gently rubs the spot where Ayshela had smooched him on his scaly cheek and goes a slightly deeper shade of red, waving to her for a moment before dipping his tongue into a vial of Swiftness Potion. Downing a swig of Ol Peculiar from his new dragon hide flask to chase the bitter aftertaste of the potion, the reptilian Elder proceeds to bounce around the room rapidly, thanking people for their presents, presence, and affection. "Thanks Sweetcherrie!" The lizard screeches to a halt next to the businesswoman and flips through her informational booklet at lightning speed, also taking a milisecond or two to notice the fine "measurements" of her formal suite. "This is some useful stuff. Do you really think that those Almost Dragonic Brand Cuddly Pet Rocks™ that I tried to trade Mynx will have a better sale value in Japan's kawai doll market?" "Well-" starts Sweetcherrie only to find that the lizard has already run off in a hyperactive rush, high-fiving Zariah and Happybuddha as he makes his way back to his hoard. Running by Yui, the lizard pauses for a moment and makes a face: "Hey look Yui, this potion makes my tongue turn neon colors!" Yui smirks at the lizards gargoyle grimace, then goes blank as the lizard downs another lick of the potion, already oblivious to her previous safety statements. "Hold on, waitrighthere, I gotta go announce something." Wyvern rushes towards the top of his new geld pile, noticing Cyril Darkcloud's poem tacked to the side of it and grinning at the poet's clever words. The lizard circles the phrase "what matters is geld" and crosses out "Friday" while scrawling an illegible "Thursday" on it, continuing his ascent and clearing his throat of leftover ash. The lizard turns to the crowds from the top of his pile, the potion doubledose having an unusual effect on his senses as he declares: "Your attention, please! *ahem* I wanna thank you all, from the bottom of my little geld-tinged reptilian heart. You all humble a dastardly schemer like myself... if only I had some party favors to hand out to all of you." Wyvern taps his foot on the ground for a moment and thinks, his beady eyes wandering until he comes across the package that Venefyxatu had so carefully gathered for him. The overgrown stares at the small stack of Almost Dragonic Brand Semi-Sharp Ninja Twinkly Stars™, then at the party-favorless pennites, and slowly breaks into a signature grin. ;-) OOC: Thanks for the birthday wishes, everyone.

A new update for this thread: my last show on Oldominion went along smoothly, and it was great to see Grayskul live in concert with Atmosphere a week after I had highlighted them over the air. "Any Given Moment" is back again this week with the thematic subtitle "Weightless Girls Need Love Too." The show will be based around the Columbus Ohio crew Weightless, which is headed by two of my favorite M.Cs: Blueprint and Illogic. You might recall these two names from a number of my concert reviews, including one concert I described where they improvised with slam poetry when their equipment malfunctioned. Amongst other things, I'll be playing tracks from Blueprint's upcoming album "1988", which WRGW got an advance copy of and which is a very nice piece of music. The Pen will also be big upped as usual, of course, and I'm sure I'll squeeze in a few member shouts. Airs 3/24/05, same time and place as usual. Peace!

LeavingForYesterdayWithFear glances towards the area where the grandfather clock would normally be resting in the corner of the Recruiter's Office, raising a brow as he finds only a blank wall and a note that reads "Ozymandias - Replacement Clock Needed." The applicant mutters a few curses under his breath as he turns his gaze towards an Office window, noticing that the sun is beginning to set on the horizon and not wanting to be late for an important graveyard rendezvous. Lifting himself from his seat and shuffling back and forth in a nervous manner, he turns to Ozymandias the Elder and catches his attention with a frown. "Mr. Ozymandias, do you know when the Elder of Initiates might be-" Ozymandias shakes his head solemnly, letting out a dismal sigh. "Unfortunatly, you never can tell." The Loremaster wanders towards the applicant and gives him a pat on the back. "In the meantime just watch the clo- errr, that is, the blank wall where there used to be a-" Wyvern barges into the Recruiter's Office at that moment, his scales covered in dirt and a large sack with a tombstone jutting out of it dragging behind him. Grinning and waving to LeavingForYesterdayWithFear and Ozymandias, the overgrown lizard hisses: "Sssorry I'm a little late, was out 'resource hunting' for potential Almost Dragonic Brand Sculpture™ materials. Lemme see that story." Wyvern snatches LeavingForYesterdayWithFear's application off of his cluttered desktop before he can muster a reply, skimming over it with his beady eyes and slowly nodding once he's finished. The reptilian pauses for a moment, then glances at the tombstone jutting from his bag, then at the story, then at the tombstone, then at the story again before hissing: "A nice piece, but I swear I read something sssimilar on an epigraph somewhere before..." OOC: Thank you for choosing to apply to the Pen, LeavingForYesterdayWithFear. Unfortunately, the guidelines for applying state that your application piece "must be an original work posted specifically with the intention of joining the Pen," and since this story also acts as one of your live journal entries I cannot currently accept it. Write a work specifically for the Pen and post it in this thread, however, and I'm certain you'll be swiftly accepted into our ranks. :-)

Ben & Jerry's came out with a slew of new ice cream flavors recently, so I decided to play the part of junkfood connaiseur and give them the Almost Dragonic taste test. Here are some descriptions of the results: Ben & Jerry's "Marsha Marsha Marshmellow" Ice Cream - This s'mores-inspired flavor combines chocolate ice cream with toasted marshmellow and graham cracker swirls. The result is a quality flavor that may not match up to the best that Ben & Jerry's has to offer, but is never the less a welcome addition to their catalogue. The highlight of this flavor is definitely the toasted marshmellow swirl, which actually tastes toasted as opposed to the normal generic marshmellows that are thrown into ice cream. Ben & Jerry's "The Gobfather" Ice Cream - Subtitling an ice cream "The Flavor That Can't be Refused" is risky business to begin with, particularly when the only unique attribute the flavor boasts is a nougat swirl. Unfortunatly, this combination of vanilla ice cream, chocolate covered almonds, and nougat swirl is pretty much a let down, largely due to the nougat which tastes odd and out of place. Nut enthusiasts may want to give it a shot, but you'd probably be better off with a Reeses Fast Break bar to satisfy your nougat cravings. Ben & Jerry's "Fossil Fuel" Ice Cream - This flavor screams "cute gimmick" from its description, boasting dinosaur-shaped fudge pieces that you can "dig up" with your spoon. Never the less, the flavor succeeds on some levels thanks to the inclusion of chocolate cookie pieces in the mix, as well as an odd not-quite-vanilla flavor tagged "sweet cream ice cream." While good in its own right, "Fossil Fuel" is unfortunatly overshadowed by the Ben & Jerry's flavor "Dublin Mudslide," as it follows most of the ingredients of the latter flavor while toning down the taste a bit and adding gimmicky fudge bits. Ben & Jerry's "Dave Matthew's Band Magic Brownie" Ice Cream - Ben & Jerry's seem to generally have a problem when it comes to fruit flavors in ice cream. Aside from the brilliant "Cherry Garcia" (which remains one of their best) and the pretty nice "Primary Berry Graham," their fruit flavors have often been flops. "Dave Matthew's Band Magic Brownie," a flavor concocted by the rock band of the same name, combines vanilla ice cream, raspberry swirl, and fudge brownies. The flavor is not too bad, far better than some of Ben & Jerry's previous fruit catastrophes (their *awful* limited edition apple pie flavor comes to mind), but "Magic Brownie" is ultimately unexciting and skippable. Next please. Ben & Jerry's "Chocolate Therapy" Mood Magic Ice Cream - limited edition - "Mood Magic" seems to be a new variety of limited edition Ben & Jerry's flavors that focuses on catering to specific tastes that people crave. Being a chocoholic, I was naturally excited to find this flavor at the market, as it combines chocolate ice cream with chocolate pudding ice cream and chocolate cookies. Overall, however, I'm uncertain if my chocolate cravings were really satisfied by it. The different varieties of chocolate flavors didn't really stand out and all blended together... next time, they should try combining milk chocolate with dark chocolate and white chocolate. Now that would be chocolately. That just about wraps up the new Ben & Jerry's ice cream spree. Far more important than these new flavors, however, is Ben & Jerry's permanent reissue of one of their best limited edition flavors. "Dublin Mudslide," which I mentioned earlier in this thread, has returned thanks to popular demand. This one comes highly, highly recommended... possibly one of their best flavors.

Last night, I went to see Atmosphere, Grayskul, p.o.s, and Philmoore Brown at the 9:30 Club in Washington D.C. This show marks an historical moment in my concert-going as it was the first musical event that I've been to with another member of the Pen. The decision to go was made at the very last minute, without any prior knowledge of whether tickets were sold out or not, and Zariah just happened to be available to go despite the short notice. We met up in D.C and got to the club early enough to purchase tickets and take spots in the front row of the concert, which proves that spur of the moment concert decisions can work on occasion. The first act that performed was a rock group by the name of Philmoore Brown, who I'd never heard of before. They came out dressed in what appeared to be a mixture of grungy T-shirts, makeshift bathrobes, and kilts (which were not St. Patrick's Day-inspired). They also brought out a variety of instruments including tamborines, whistles, and oddly what appeared to be an African statue that had a drum for a head, which the lead vocalist played on occasionally. Their vocals were mostly lost to the bass and drums and their material wasn't particularly impressive, but they served their purpose by putting on an energetic performance that hyped the crowd up. A highlight of their set was when they started tossing instruments into the audience and a whistle was passed around and blown by various people, including yours truly. The next act to perform was p.o.s (promise of stress), whose name I had heard mentioned before but who I knew little about prior to this concert. His set contrasted greatly with Philmoore Browne's as he came out solo with only a tiny boombox and a microphone... not even a D.J to back him up. The crowd was very lively and he actually noted that he'd like people to calm down a bit as his throat was soar and he'd lost his voice. Despite the voice issue, he put on an impressive set, alternating between well-written acapella verses and rhyming over beats from his boombox. His songs seemed to have style, lyrics, and energy, and he struck me as one of Minneapolis' many undiscovered talents. I picked up his album after the show. Grayskul came on after p.o.s, and I had seen them in concert previously in addition to having purchased their album (if anyone tuned into my Oldominion show last week, their name came up multiple times, since that's the crew that they rep). They started off their set by dimming the lights and playing a video they made for the single off of their album, a rather strange choice for a set idea which I didn't entirely approve of. After the video they went into their live set, however, and put on a good show. They played around with lighting a lot during their performance, flashing it on and off like lightning and dimming it in different colors. Their resident D.J, D.J Wicked, broke out into some impressive scratching between their songs. The only real complaint I have about Grayskul live is that, while the rapper JFK spits his heart out energetically and runs around on the stage, the other M.C Onry Ossbourn stays in one place for the most part and recites his verses without much passion. Still, it was a nice set overall. Finally, Atmosphere came out to perform with a live band to close out as the headliner of the evening. I had seen Slug perform in concert several times before as Atmosphere (see: previous entries from me in this thread), but had never seen him perform with a live band and without a hypeman. The band demonstrated a strong influence in rock and jazz and really added to the set, offering melodies that improvised upon the music backing Atmosphere rather than just repeating it. Sluggo also improvised in terms of lyrics and flows, changing them to fit the setting of Washington D.C and occasionally freestyling. They definitely put on the best set on the evening, and it was one of the best Atmosphere performances I've seen to date. Highlights included the bands renditions of "Good Times" and "The Woman with the Tattooed Hands," along with the new material that Slug performed which sounded excellent. I definitely enjoyed the concert overall, and got the impression that Zariah really enjoyed herself as well (I'm hoping she'll post a review here eventually... she bought an Atmosphere CD and T-shirt)! Post-concert goodies: Zariah and I got our pictures taken in a group photo with p.o.s and JFK of Grayskul, including one photo of us posing in "thug" mode. ;-p We also hit up the nearest Seven-11 afterwards for slurpees, ATMs, and potential taxi services. Good times... I'm hoping to drag more of you pennites to my hip hop venues in the future. ;-)

I read through the prologue and the first three chapters of this story and think that you have a very good outline for a story so far, Shathward. I particularly like a number of the details that you incorporated in these first few segments, such as the use of the Gonarth sewers as Sakaso's resting place and the notion of the Godslayer killing the best of the thieves with a single hand. Sakaso also seems like an interesting character who is undergoing changes, and with an immortal God now inhabiting his thoughts I'm sure his personality will become further complicated. In terms of potential improvements: one thing that stood out to me that you might want to improve upon are the character interactions in the piece, as there were times when the dialogues between the characters and the manners they interacted struck me as a bit forced. Two examples of this would be the couple arguing in chapter 1, which seemed to devolve into violent accusations a little too quickly, and Hanarth's initial reaction to the entrance of the Godslayer in chapter 2, which was a bit dramatic and unrealistic. Also, I felt that while the details and setting were very good, there were times where these elements were told in an expository manner when they could have been shown, such as when the Gods are listed directly in chapter 2. Finally, I'm still searching for an underlying conflict that Sakaso must face, and the sooner it's introduced the better... Does he now have his heart set on avenging his friends by finding and killing the Godslayer? Once again, this is a nice start. I'll be sure to check for future chapters to see how it developes.