Wyvern

Hmm, I have mixed feelings about this poem. On the one hand, I feel that the word choice and the strong emotions driven across in it demonstrate your experience with the matters touched upon in the poem, and ring true. The emotional base you've chosen for the poem is powerful, and as such the messages that it gets across are meaningful and evocative. At the same time, however, the structure and the rhyme schemes of the work struck me as somewhat out of place in it. There was obviously a great deal of thought put into the internal rhyme scheme of lines such as "Preoccuption was my damnation," but I somehow feel that lines such as these set a lighthearted and casual tone to the piece where a tone of regret was intended. You may want to consider narrowing down the number of rhyming words in order to better establish a connection between the tone of the poem and its themes. Thank you for being brave and posting this emotional piece.

"I've heard stories about the women, them actresses." The ghost raises his cane as Lizzie French slowly backs away from him, disturbed by his presence. "Yeah, the women, they clean and they cook- but the cooking's poison. Bratwurst, now that's cooking. Uncle Sam's hamburger, that'll poison you. Acting? Hah! Yeah, I know the actresses, I've checked the dressing rooms. Lookers too." Lizzie heads off from her dressing room at a fast pace, shaking her head and ultimately rejecting the spectral presence of Nipkow. The ghostly geezer hobbles after her, unable to keep up with her pace and rapidly falling behind as he shouts: "My day, weren't no actresses, womens had their place! Weren't no actors neither, no acting T.V. Th' mechanical was explosions, war in the lense of the Nipkow. Yer father, he knew. Play 'Go Fish' with him every Friday, and he knew. Oh he knew alright! Lil brat, probly think your old- come back here and respect yer Elders! Have a Nipkow revolution t-to run-" The old geezer comes to a stop as Lizzie French runs out of sight, gasping for breath and wacking his chest with his fist a few times. "Lil brat, should've expected *cough* from a French." Nipkow rests motionless for a moment, then turns his head as he overhears Emmet exclaim "C'moooon! What is this place, a TV studio or some kind of survival-of-the-fittest test?" Letting out an exhausted cackle, the unheard spectre grumbles: "Ha, this? No, no, I've seen it - the future. The future, now there's a survival for you. Reality T.V, I tell you." Nipkow shakes his head and begins hobbling forward on his cane again, passing by Emmet and noticing the door to Tim's voice-over recording studio standing slightly ajar. A mischievous smile spreads across the geezers face as he heads towards the studio, passing through the wall adjacent to the open door and moving his eyes over the tapes and machinery. "Weren't no, wassis, adds on the mechanical. War... that's what it was bringing- still bringing it! Start the Nipkow revolution, show that Lizzie French-face a thing or two about the old ways. See how they like their voicin distorted..."

I think this is a great poem, Ayshela. As Katzaniel mentioned, the rhyme scheme definitely stands out and never gets tiresome in its repetition, which gives the piece an excellent flow. I especially like how the last lines of each of the stanzas are repeated to parallel the consistant rhyming of the rest of the poem, and also thought that the extension of the final stanza to six lines made it sum up the themes of the poem in a very powerful manner. My only minor complaint when reading this is the reference to the reader as "my dears" near the end of the final stanza, as this particular phrase seemed out of place to me given the otherwise-objective tone of the poem. Perhaps this tidbit could be exchanged for some other, more relevent rhyming phrase? Great stuff.

I really like "Little Words," Yui. The phrasing and structure of the poem are excellent as always, and the extended simile of little words acting like a violent ocean tide is well done. I particularly liked the lines "erode their way through Id extremes/ and Ego's steel-clad doors," as your references to the Id and the Ego struck me as original and evocative. I also thought the contrasting concept of little words evoking "too much" made for a strong ending to the piece, and drove across the theme of the poem well. One reference in the poem that struck me as a bit awkward was that of the little words being like "liquid mice," as topping your original tidal wave simile with another simile seemed almost a bit excessive to me. You could consider dropping the mice aspect and sticking to the original wave simile, or you might simply drop the adjective "liquid" from the second stanza and switch to a new mice simile there (though that might complicate things in the second half of the stanza). Just my impressions, of course. Once again, very good poem. Another addition to your already impressive repertoire.

I like this poem, Krista. The patriotic message and tone of devotion that it gets across are heartfelt, and the uses of repetition work well in driving across a rhythm and establishing a structure for the work. I particularly like the second stanza, as the notion of only wanting to escape to Estonia is a strong one. In terms of potential improvements: the lines "Only friends are who I`d let/ to sing that song to you" in the fourth stanza struck me as a bit awkward in phrasing, and you might want to make it grammatically correct by dropping "to" or editting it in some other way. Also, the final line of the first stanza seems to have a different rhythm than the other lines due to the comma, and you may want to consider revising it. Once again, nice work. :-) I could envision this being sung as a patriotic anthem of sorts.

Wyvern wanders into the Cabaret Room just as Zariah finishes relaying the phrase "Age is something that doesn't matter, unless you are a cheese," seating himself on the far end of the Mighty Pen couch and nodding as the others go through their little proverbs. After a brief moment of silence following Kasmandres final tidbit, the reptilian Elder pounces out of his seat and storms the stage, practically shoving Kasmandre to the side as he hisses: "That's right folks... and if you have the serenity to accept things, or better yet if you can't tell the difference, then I'd like to highly recommend you this intriguing collective work." The audience stares blankly as Wyvern pulls out a cheaply printed pamphlet from his tunic, pointing at its title with a claw and striking an enthusiastic smile of razor sharp teeth. "Almost Dragonic Brand Colloquial Pen Wisdom Tidbits™, the only book on wisdom you'll ever need! Allow me to read you a few samples from it." The greedy lizard flips through the pages for a moment, ignoring the sheets that fall out in the process and not paying attention to the pennites who are readying their ear plugs. Arriving at a specific section, the lizard pauses and grins, then clears his throat of a few ashes and exclaims: "- Don't give the Grim Squeaker anything to eat. His lack of stomach, muscles, and flesh make for rather severe cases of indigestion. If you have a piece of cheese large enough to stay stuck in his ribcage, you can try it, but you risk causing a stink when it starts to mold. - Don't clean Waterlily's hydroponic tank manually, unless your fond of strangulation and making a mess of yourself. Instead, act like your ol' uncle Wyvern and take the slacker route. Try dynamite. - If you play 'chicken' with Zool's rubber chicken, remember: he's still only rubber. - It's a great idea to make money by photocopying twenty dollar bills, but when it comes to conterfeiting, you might need a helping hand. That's why we here at Almost Dragonic Brand Money Photocopying Outlets™ are willing to lend a claw, and for the mere price of the initial bill you copy from! Sorry, no refunds. - Make sure that the 'nude' beach you go to really is a nude beach... after all, that gal lounging in the sand might just be Tzimfemme on a regular day. - The King of Kings, Ozymandias, can fetch you some nice suspendors in a snap. (For an old guy, he has a strong sense of fashion!) Those pharoahs weren't playing around with their wardrobes when it came to storing things in pyramids. - Do not wiz on any fence labeled "Property of the Dreamer." Similarly, do not do your business in the Pen's toilet outlets... the crocodile evoked in Quincuinox is apparently still living in stall #3. - If you set out to beat the odds, you may want to look into an alliance with Caryon Megeta since he's pretty sure to defeat them. Just be sure you can handle the results when he decides to rub you off for "lagging behind." - You can own the most expensive club in the world. Without an Almost Dragonic Inc. logo, however, your club is only second-rate when it comes to prices. Send inquiries on how to obtain the highest priced club in the world to Wyvern Q. AlmostDragon. Billionaires only, please. - Never get into a poop-fight with Silly the Elder Dwarf. Not only would he consider you disgusting and uncivilized, he'd also be able to use his speech signs as shields. - Austrailia has one of the most wild animals in all the world, a creative beast that sports one of the Pen's highest insanity rates with pride. His name: the Aardvark. And no, that box of thermite below his name is not safe. - The Pen has one of the highest quality rates around, but nearly no poisonous animals. Fortunately, Canid can always offer you a visit to some exotic wilderness spots to correct that minor imperfection. - Katzaniel doesn't appreciate being taped in mid-tigertaur transformation, and will possibly become enraged if you attempt to do so. (P.S: Almost Dragonic Brand Bootleg Katzaniel Tapes™ now available, see your local scheming lizard for more details on this enticing product) - Tanuchan is wonderful at swimming and other sports... unless she becomes tangled in a mess of limbs. - No matter how fast you run, you will never be able to outrun Xaious the Master of Time. Not until the end of time, that is. - Bruteweiser works better at evoking dizziness in pennites than suger, unless Minta Rose is present. - Imposter comes in many colors and forms, but works under only one spell. - Do yourself a favor and support Almost Dragonic Brand Blind Barber Shops™ the next time you need a haircut, even if it means purchasing three scissor sessions to get it right. - It's always darkest before dawn. So if you'd like to steal a minute or two to chat with Yui-chan at that hour, shadow plane strolls are certainly an option for privacy. - Before you criticize someone, you should read a few posts from Peredhil the Polite. That way, when your criticisms are constructive, you'll know what sorts of tortures await you in the depths of his Polite dungeon. - If you often speak the truth about inebriation, but don't always remember everything in certain contexts, chances are your name might be 'Brute.'" Wyvern begins flipping through the pages of the pamphlet once again, not wanting to overdo it with his "few samples." The reptilian Elders beady eyes skim over the pages as he moves through them. "One or two more, if you're not convinced: - Never take Black's invitation to hit him at full power... he *is* commonly known as Death, after all. Hmmm, what else. - If someone is nice to you but rude to the Almost Secretary of Initiates, they're probably trying to be even nicer to you, and should be treated with the utmost respect." Wyvern tosses the book of Almost Dragonic Brand Colloquial Pen Tidbits™ to the ground, causing its pages to fly everywhere in the process. "See?! This lil book contains only the best of wisdom, the finest of almost Dragonic tidbits. Phrases that can be used anywhere in the Pen. And it's only fourty geld for a copy!" The greedy lizard pauses for a moment, suddenly noticing that the pages have flown throughout the room and are being casually picked up by various pennites. He seeths for a moment, then shouts: "Hey, that's five geld per page. You hear me?! Five geld per page!" OOC: I encourage others to pick up where I left off... ;-)

Wyvern slowly makes his way into the Cabaret Room, whipping out a folder labeled "Devil's Advocate" and using it as a makeshift fan as he's struck by the heat of the chamber. Taking out an old notice of bankruptcy and wiping the sweat from his scaly forehead with it, the overgrown lizard passes through the room until he comes across the twisted mass of tangled limbs located in the far corner. Indentifying one of the arms jutting from the pile as Merelas', Wyvern shakes his twitching hand with a claw and gleefully hisses: "Happy birthday, Merelas. Another year gone by, and things seem to be heating up for you as usual, flame elf that you are. Hmmm, in more ways than one perhaps?" Wyvern snickers and steps back as Merelas' visible hand is clenched into a fist that shakes at him, making a comic face before remembering that the flame elf can't see him from his position. "Well, I hope you have a great birthday. I'm reducing the costs of any Almost Dragonic Brand Fine Print Heating Bills™ that I may have set on you for this occasion, and you can also feel free to partake in forging any number of Almost Dragonic Brand Semi-Sharp Ninja Twinkle Stars™ you wish. Well, once you get out of there that is." The lizard grins and bows as Merelas' fist continues to shake in his direction and some muffled cry about "what heating bills?" is heard. The reptilian Elder then departs off to cooler territories, the thought of cold water briefly passing through his mind before causing him to shudder. OOC: Happy birthday to the Pen's #1 Hot Fashion Designer.

Up on the high ramps where the lighting is controled, an old man with a crooked cane hobbles forward, seating himself next to one of many bright green lights that set an eery interplanatary atmosphere on the stage. Unseen and unheard, the geezer stares down at the huge hole that was made in the set and prods at the light next to him with his cane, causing it to flicker on and off a bit but never quite managing to defuse it. Noticing "Creepy" Kaz passing by the stage below, the phantom speaks up in a broken cranky voice: "Explosion, hah. You and your "fresnels' lenses," pssh. Bah, it's nothing, the explosion is nothing. In my day, didn't have those cameras, mechanics was all we relied upon. Just mechanics, might of the Nipkow. You hear me? Might of the Nipkow! Explosion? Nein, explosion is nothing. Watch me, I can make this light burn out. Then you'll really be sorry. Oh, you'll be sorry! Shouldn't have underestimated the Nipkow, foul modernists." The ghost of the geezer continues to poke at the light bulb as his words go unheard, still only causing minor flickers that go entirely unnoticed as a large number of other lights cover for it. After a few minutes of poking, the old man slows down a bit and grumbles to himself, tiring from his arm motions. He gradually begins to float down from his position as if he were on a shakey elevator, passing right through the platform he previously sat on and descending towards the set. "Fresnel lenses. I'll- some lenses, I'll show you fresnel. I'll show you fresnel, just you wait." The phantom lands awkwardly near the spacecraft set, poking his cane in the ground to regain his balance. He then turns towards the hole in the wall, waving a frail hand. "My day, this was television." The ghost turns upon noticing a tray of coffee and donuts that has been set nearby for stage workers and actors to partake in. Hobbling towards the table, the old man wheezes: "War, I'll give you war. Coffee turned bitter, survive that. Explosion is nothing, coffee that's something. Bitter coffee, stirred in swirls like swirls of Nipkow disk. Wrath of the Nipkow!"

Patrick Durham fidgets in his applicant easychair as Rydia lingers at the door of the Recruiter's Office, her elven ears perking up ever-so-slightly as a cloud of dust waves through the Office air and sparkles for a split second. Patrick coughs at the dust and frowns, reconsidering his story explanation for a moment and wondering if a claim of historical accuracy might evoke a quicker response. Setting his chin on his fist, the applicant thinks for a few minutes, then turns to Rydia and says: "Of course, the application, that wasn't fictional. Just the story part." An awkward moment of silence passes as Rydia casts him a curious look, her ears half-curling into question marks. The quiet is promptly shattered, however, as a figure in a dark hooded cloak with runes graffitied over it hobbles swiftly into the room, breezing past Rydia and revealing a scaly tail that drags behind him as he walks. Halting in front of Patrick, the "mysterious" figure perks up his head to reveal an unrealistic lumpenproletariat mask covering his face. Handing the applicant a card with a rune on it, the figure deeply hisses: "Greetings mortal applicant. Please, be seated." Patrick raises a brow, having not lifted himself from his seat yet, and reluctantly mutters: "I, uhhh, I am seated. Mr....?" "Acolyte. Mr. Acolyte." The cloaked figure adjusts his robes in a haughty manner. "And thank you for the informative response, these Almost- errr, ancient acolyte lumpenproletariat masks don't have eyeholes in them like they used to." The "acolyte" lets out a short and ruthless laugh, taking a bold step forward and tripping over his own tail in the process. Patrick cringes as the cloaked figure sails head over heels into a stack of papers, stumbling over them and crashing into a desk, which in turn rolls over and knocks down a grandfather clock, breaking its time frame. The applicant's jaw drops open as he witnesses this series of catastrophes, and he immediately lifts himself from his chair to help the cloaked man once things have stopped falling over. "Hey, are you alright?" Patrick stoops down and extends a hand. "Man, that was some..." "Hurrrk, I'm..." The cloaked man's tail stiffens in pain for a second as he squirms on the ground. "I'm immortaooooow! An Acowlyte. G-geld donation needed in my presence. Here, see my papers." The cloaked figure rolls until he's sitting upright by the sideways desk, and pulls out a piece of paper from his cloak, adjusting his mask slightly as he hands it to Patrick. "This paper." Patrick stares at it in surprise, taking it from the "acolytes" claw and looking over its contents. "It's... well, it's blank." "What?!" cries the "acolyte," tearing off his lumpenproletariat mask in frustration to reveal the scaly visage of Wyvern. "That wasn't supposed to- owwww! Oh come on, I don't get it, I chanted it didn't I?" The overgrown lizard takes out a folder from part of his cloak, unfolding it angrily. "Just it like it says, whatwasit... 'I have a sham/slowly whining. This little yelp/in pains *ow* plight can reside?' No, no that'sss not it." Wyvern sighs and shakes his head, removing the hood from it and cringing for a moment. Casting a weak smile towards Patrick, the lizard nods and rummages through the mess that's been made of his Office until he comes across his Acceptance Stamp. Hissing a little, he promptly stamps Patrick Durham's application ACCEPTED. ;-) OOC: On a more serious note, a nice story and an ACCEPTED application, Patrick Durham. Welcome to the Mighty Pen! I apologize for the lengthy waiting time (those graffitied runes may look sloppy, but they took a while), and I hope that you find the Pen a welcoming community to share your works in. I look forward to reading more of your material, and would like to welcome you once again.

Wyvern gracelessly dips into the Cabaret Room, tripping and flopping over as he finally manages to dislodge the gnome that had been stuck on his left leg. Cursing at the fumbling gnome and rubbing his scaly rump in pain, the reptilian Elder lifts himself to his feet and quickly checks the time, noting that he's unfashionably late once again. He then reaches into a large sack that he carries, clawing past a large supply of leftover Chocolate Grilled Cookie Cake Pasta Chicken and pausing when he comes across a star-shaped package. Rolling his beady eyes for a moment, the greedy Elder shakes off his dismay and turns to Happybuddha, grinning and hissing: "Happy birthday, Happybuddha. Like others, I hope it was a happy day for you. Please accept my humble gift by taking thisss, errr... this set of Almost Dragonic Brand Semi-Sharp Twinkly Faery Roast Appetizer Trays™, perfect for the next jumbo fantasy BBQ. Have a great one." Having said this, the lizard bows to the buddha and winks, quickly departing from the Cabaret Room before the repetition of the chanted word "Happy" drives him nuts. ;-)

"Yaaaaaaaah!" Through the invasion of YanYan Ganaffi's Sharpein assault troops, through the milk-curdling convos of Pilocanci and Tzimfemme, through the spectacular light-display entrance of Ozymandias and the Grim Squeaker, through sensitive dandelions, flower-informative hobbits and distant crow rituals, Wyvern continues to "have fun" in Zariah's Ball, flailing about wildly in an attempt to escape the hostile butterflies that still surround him. "Haaaaalllllppppp!" Wyvern careens past Venefyxatu and nearly collides with Sweetcherrie as she departs from the hall, running circles around Ayshela and Wrenwind as he futily attempts to swat at the butterflies in desperation. Breaking through the thin line between Knight and purple shadows and bumping into Gwaihir by accident, the overgrown lizard jumps up and down and attempts to cling to the walls nearby, only to find that he's already torn down several of the climbable decorations. "Annnnaaaaaeeeeeellll! Call'em off, pleeeaaaassssse?" Wyvern jumps onto the bar table as the butterfly swarm switches directions, sliding across it and heading in the direction that the Sharpein troops headed off in. As the butterflies chase Wyvern in the direction of the departing spacecraft outdoors, hoping to avenge the flowers flattened by its landing, Wyvern cries out: "Thanksss for the party Zariaaaaaaahhhhh!" ;-)

I think that this is a very good poem, Zariah. It drives across its themes nicely and I really like a lot of your phrasing, especially in the line "Ocean sands believe the current’s dreams;/ Perhaps they erode from the water’s distress." The structure of the poem also struck me as very well done, as the repetition used in the second-to-last stanza that ties all of the elements of nature together is evocative and intriguing. The only line that I didn't really like in the poem was the very last line, as I felt it was blunt compared to the rest of the work and was not quite as striking as the other lines. Very nicely done, I enjoyed this. :-)

I really like this new version of your poem, Loki Wyrd. Dropping the references to the "sun," the "moon," and the "dark" has made for a more vivid work on the whole, in my opinion, and I particularly like your revision of "Soon take another tone--" to "Assume another voice--" in the second stanza. The imagery and metaphors that you use are excellent, and the poem definately strikes me as being rich with meaning. If you're worried about how this new version of the poem sounds in comparison to the first version (as you hinted at to me in your PM), you might consider rephrasing the lines "If swathes of shadow paint a face abhorrent,/ Can the slightest turn of the head be profound?--" in the second stanza. These lines have a higher syllabel count than the rest of the poem, and also strike me as being slightly wordier and more descriptive than the other lines. If they were made more succinct, it might aid the flow of the poem. Great stuff, once again. I really like the title "whispers and fingerprints," would you like the thread title editted to that?

Though I might not be participating in the thread on quite as frequent a basis as others, I'll be playing the Ghost of Paul Gotliebb Nipkow, the German inventor who came up with the idea for the first electromechanical television system. Embittered by the abandonment of the Nipkow disc in later versions of television sets, he haunts production studios for sport, and decided to come to this particular venue in the hopes of amusing himself by watching the rival studios in conflict. He cannot be seen or heard by any of the characters, with the exception of Lizzie French who hears and see's him as old transparent man. He enjoys haunting people by causing the occasional bout of static, burning out the occasional light bulb, and making the occasional cup of coffee bitter... but let's face it, with haunting methods like these, he's often bored and frustrated. Add to that frustration the notion that the only person that see's and hears him is an old French woman, and that he still holds a slight grudge from the years of World War I which occured before his death, and you have quite a disgruntled spectre. My character will obviously not be involved in the voting or the death elements of this Werewolf game, though he will probably be mocking those characters that pass into the afterlife for the first time ("buncha amateur ghosts!"). He will also be around to haunt and comment in various ways.

Update: Thursday's show on Science Fiction and Fantasy Hop went very well, though during the second hour I was cut off twice for two 20 minute news interviews. A big thanks goes out to Pillow and Happybuddha for calling into the show and chatting over the air, and a huge thank you goes to Akallabeth for recording it. A bunch of science fiction and fantasy tracks were covered, and Jonathan Wolfe, Aardvark, and Quincunx were shouted out for "Utopias Twilight," "Colonisation," and "In the City" respectively. A couple of tracks were also dedicated to folks... If anyone would be willing to host Akallabeth's recording of the show, an audio link to it could be provided in this thread. Contact him about it if interested. Next Thursday, I'm going to be covering music from a Seattle's forefront hip hop crew, Oldominion. They've put out about twenty projects over the years yet are still relatively unknown, though they seem to be making larger moves than usual this year. There's a chance that some Oldominion folks might call in for interviews and I'll be repping the Mighty Crew as usual, so check it out if possible.

Wyvern stumbles into the Cabaret Room, a fallen gnome clinging to his left leg and hindering his progress as he approaches the central grounds of the chamber. Reaching into a sack that he carries, the lizard frowns and carefully pulls out a gnome holding a star-shaped package, rolling his eyes and grumbling at the sight of it. Setting the gnome on the ground in front of him, the lizard moves forward and kicks him to the best of his ability, his momentum dragged down by the weight on his leg. The gnome holding the package is only lightly prodded by the Wyvern foot, yet never the less falls over and rolls in the direction of Zadown, slowing down as he reaches the birthday pennites feet and dropping his package. "Happy birthday, Zadown" shouts Wyvern from his end of the room, still struggling with the gnome on his leg. "I hope you enjoy that gift- not the gnome but the other thing. It's a, errrmmm... it's a set of Almost Dragonic Brand Semi-Sharp Twinkly Gylph Decoys™, for moments where your Astral master feels like setting up a prank planar ambush. Have a great one." Having said this, Wyvern bows and gives up on removing the gnome, opting for the opportunity to partake in several plates of Chocolate grilled cookie cake pasta chicken... OOC: Hope you had a good one, Zadown.

Wyvern careens into the Cabaret Room, tardy as usual, his claws already digging through a large sack that he carries as his tail twitches in an uneasy manner. Pausing at the center of the room, the lizard digs his claws deeper as he sorts through several used mannequin limbs and leftover moldy pastries, grinning as he reaches the familiar shape of a package. Pulling out the gift, the reptilian Elder frowns at its all-too-familiar feel, then perks up as he approaches Aegon and hisses: "Happy Birthday, Aegon. Hope you had a great one... I wanted to offer you this, errr... this Almost Dragonic Brand Semi-Sharp Twinkly Medal of Honour™, for holidays lost to hard work and schedule readjustments. Best wishessssss!" With that, Wyvern swiftly bows, pops one of the moldy pastries he found into his mouth, and dashes off to start another scheme without further ado. ;-) OOC: Happy birthday, and what Gwaihir said.

Shathward fumes as he paces back and forth in the Recruiter's Office, running over Peredhil's words in his mind as he anxiously glances towards a nearby grandfather clock and takes note of the time. The applicant pauses for a moment and growls, wondering what could be taking the Elder of Initiates so long and turning in the direction of Peredhil in the hopes of learning more about approximate waiting times for Honored Guests. Before he has time to question the Polite Ancient Bard, however, the door creaks open and Wyvern wobbles in, the Decanter of Endless Booze held in one hand and an open bottle of Ol Peculiar in the other. The overgrown lizard hiccups smoke rings as he hobbles towards Shathward, sending him an enormous claw wave greeting and practically falling over in the process. "About time" mutters Shathward glumly as the lizard reaches him. "Here's my application, please-" "Sssshhhorry I'm sho late." Wyvern grins a grin of razor sharp teeth, his breath dizzying Shathward slightly with the overwhelming scent of mixed alcohols. The overgrown lizard attempts to swipe the application story out of Shathward's hand but misses, aiming for it twice more before managing to pluck it out. "I wash jusht out shelebrating the return of ntraveler2... Joyish occashion!" Shathward frowns as Wyvern begins skimming over his application in a disjointed manner, his expression deepening as the lizard turns his story upside down halfway through it to continue. Once he's finished, the reptilian Elder briefly uses the back of one of the sheets as a napkin and hisses: "Nissshhhhhely done, Shathward. Can I call ya Shatht? Y'know, like 'who'sh that man with th'weapon chesht, who buildsh dem pyres and feelsh he's blessed? Shatht!' Heeheeheehee!" "So, ummm..." Shathward hesitates, extending a hand towards the lizard. "Since you like the story, that means I'm accepted ri-" "Not sshhhhhooooo fassshhht!" The lizard sneers, once again revealing his teeth. "I, uh, I'm gonna make you an offer firsht. Shee, you like corpshes, and I juuuuushhhhht so happen to be a mortishan. Lemme get my papersh here." Shathward raises a brow as Wyvern bluntly takes out a folder labeled "Devil's Advocate" and sets it on a table in front of him, using it as a drink coaster for a moment before waving his claws over it and singing some drunken rhyme in a horribly off-key manner. Shathward breaths a sigh of relief when the singing ceases, then turns curiously as Wyvern hands him a blank piece of paper. "Shee?" Wyvern points at the blank paper, tapping it three times. "Thish ish the kinda contract you would give a corpsh!" Shathward stares blankly at the overgrown lizard, lightening up a bit when the drunken Elder stamps his application ACCEPTED. Wyvern belches a short spout of flame that narrowly misses Shatht, then sways and hisses: "You shhhould meet that ntraveler2 guy, real shhhweell. You could learn from'im, I tellsh yah. Great shhhhport." The lizard then collapses, leaving Shathward to bask in the glory of his acceptance. ;-) OOC: A good story and an ACCEPTED application Shathward, welcome to the Mighty Pen! Hope that you enjoy your stay with us here, and find us a friendly and acceptant community.

Just to give a heads up: "Any Given Moment" should be airing at its regular time this week, which is Thursday (3/3/05) from 8:00 PM - 10:00 PM US EST at http://www.gwradio.com There's a chance that part of the show may be cut off at around 9:00 PM for a news report, but for the most part it should be running smoothly. Pen heads might be interested in catching this show as I've chosen "Science Fiction and Fantasy Hop" as the weekly theme, and will be devoting around an hour to sci-fi songs and about an hour to medieval fantasy raps. Amongst other things, expect many obscure Pen story references/shout outs... ;-) Thanks for listening! Edit: due to news reporting that's going to be happening, the show will only be running from 8:00 PM - 9:00 PM US EST rather than the regular two hours this Thursday. I'll still be covering this theme, but will probably only have time to do a science fiction segment... perhaps I'll cover fantasy at some other date.

By request, here's a commentary thread for Katzaniel and Kasmandre's collaborative effort "Homeward Bound," a Carnival Quest story located in the Underground section of the Alliance of Vagabonds and Vanguards guild forum. I like what's been written of the story so far, and think that you two have begun to establish an interesting plot that constantly moves the action forward. I particularly liked Kasmandre's incorporation of guns in the first post, as well as the manner that Katzaniel ended her last post with the unexpected death. That turn of events definitely shocked me at first, but then I remembered the notion that cat's have nine lives (which will take effect, I hope?) I'm definitely looking forward to reading Kasmandre's reaction to Katzaniel's death, as I'm certain it'll be quite dramatic. In terms of potential improvements: it's difficult to say this early in the piece, but I'd personally prefer more showing and less telling in the intentions and dilemma that Ra'laerin faces. Nice work guys, I look forward to the continuation.

Ntraveler2 smiles warmly as Gwaihir's words echo through his soul, not immediately noticing the sounds of the blaring trumpets as the Cabaret Room doors swing open in a blast of noise. Wyvern storms into the room in a flurry of poorly-placed special effects and confetti rainbows, skipping along happily as the seven Elder Dwarves follow behind him in a copper-spangled marching band. The tune they play is an upbeat and optimistic number, rendered ever-so-slightly off-beat due to the uses of Almost Dragonic Brand Music Sheets™. Wyvern rolls his arms as he marches in through miniature firework displays, letting out a gleeful shout of some sort before breaking into a slide and landing on his knees next to ntraveler2. Several photographers begin taking snaps as the lizard raises himself from the ground, winking to the newly-arrived pennite and placing a scaly arm around his shoulder in a friendly manner. "Indeed" hisses Wyvern, his voice lost to the shouts of several excited reporters and the blaring sounds of the band. The reptilian clears his throat, speaking louder. "INDEED, today is a most joyous occasion. In fact, it's time to pop the bubbly!" Wyvern pats ntraveler2 playfully on the shoulder and grins, taking out an open bottle of champaign and downing what little remains of its contents. Once he's finished with this, the lizard tosses the bottle to the side and takes out a bubble wand, blowing a large bubble with it and popping it with one of his claws. A large cheer breaks loose from the crowds. "Yessss." Wyvern raises a scaly fist in the air, then tosses the bubble wand upward in an enormous flurry of bubbles and an uproar of cheering. "Today is a very special day, for today ntraveler2 has returned to the Pen. You may remember him from such lively events as 'The Necromancer's Solutions Stall!'" The crowd goes wild, causing Wyverns voice to become drowned out again and causing ntraveler2 to glance about wildly. "C-calm down, please." Wyvern sidesteps as a bee-shaped firework buzzes past him, crashing into the wall behind him and bursting into flames. "N-NTRAVELER2! Yes, ladiessss and gentlemen, ntraveler2 back here at the Pen. And that's not all, he's declared Neutrality... meaning he no longer hates us!" An enormous applause fills the room with much cheering and bubble popping, along with a few back-flipping mimes practicing acrobatics. Wyvern turns to ntraveler2 and smiles broadly as the cheers die down, clasping him on the shoulder and exclaiming: "And ntraveler2, I think you'll find that the Pen has greatly improved in your absence. Indeed, our "vengeful prepubescent" manner of thinking has simmered to a quaint vengeful pubescent manner of thinking. In fact..." The overgrown lizard pats him twice on the back, grinning as he waves a claw in the air. "I'm certain that, with some hard work and effort on our behalf, we can change that 'Neutral' view to a 'Semi-Acceptant' approach in no time! Isn't that right, guys?!" An enormous round of cheers roars throughout the room as the Elder Dwarf band cues up into a loud array of cymbal crashes and trumpet blurts, ending as Wyvern raises his claws to imply silence. "The celebration will take place shortly, of course, and will perhaps be held at Zariah's wonderful Valentine's Ball- that is, if she approves of the notion. First, however, I would like to present a gift to our newly arrived pennite, simply to show our gratitude to his declaration of Neutrality. Ntraveler2... I give you, the Mighty Pen Statue of Overwhelming Gratitude! Let it down, boys!" Wyvern snaps a scaly finger and grins as a large iron statue of a pointed Quill is slowly let down from the ceiling, evoking a wave of "Ooos" and "Aaaahs" from the audience. The overgrown lizard cringes, however, when the cords holding the statue up snap due to their Almost Dragonic fabrication, causing the Quill to plummet towards the ground. The crowds cry out as the point of the Quill impales ntraveler2's teddy bear, driving the poor bear into the ground in a cloud of fluff. Wyvern clasps a claw over his mouth and winces at the disaster, then turns to ntraveler2 and gradually mutters: "I'm, uhhh... I'm sure it's sewable. N-not sueable, mind you... s-sewable." ;-) OOC: Welcome back, ntraveler2.

Wyvern swiftly makes his way into the Cabaret Room, shooting a quick glance to a clock in the corner of the room and staring in bewilderment as he realizes he's on time for once. Propelled by a sudden boost in confidence, the lizard races through the room until he arrives at Alaeha's side, digging through a large sack he's carrying and pulling out a familiarly-shaped semi-sharp package. Frowning and sighing to himself for a moment, the lizard perks up as he hands the present to Alaeha and exclaims: "Happy Birthday, Alaeha. Hope you have a good one. Please accept this, errr... this Almost Dragonic Brand Semi-Sharp Ninja Twister Spinner™. It'll work perfectly for future games of Twister... and y'know, if you ever feel like rethinking that Quincuinox offer-" Wyvern pauses and cringes as Alaeha casts him a glare, letting out a nervous snicker and patting her on the back before dashing a safe distance from her area. Rubbing his scaly claws together, the lizard turns to Yuki Kokoro, who is seated in a quiet and less-noticed corner of the room. Wyvern reaches into his sack once again as he approaches her, pulling out another identical package and letting out an unheard grumble of disappointment. Ignoring the monotony, the lizard happily bows to Yuki and hisses: "Happy Birthday, Yuki Kokoro. Since you're one of the most overlooked commentators on the Pen, I thought I'd give you this, ummm... this Almost Dragonic Brand Semi-Sharp Banquet Hall Twinkle Compass™. It'll help you hound down any interesting threads, and it glows in the dark for poems of shadowy despair. Have a good one." With that, the overgrown lizard casts a final grin towards Alaeha and Yuki before jetting to the Cabaret Room exit, leaving a visible trail of semi-sharp packages behind him. ;-) OOC: Happy Birthday, Alaeha and Yuki.

I like this poem, Loki Wyrd, and think that a number of the details in it are very original and evocative. Two images that particularly struck me were that of the narrators hand holding an eyeball in the first stanza, and the notion of "Minds expanding in pools of vomit" in the final stanza. The first stanza was probably my favorite in the poem, as the sensory details and seemless metaphors of sight and touch were excellently done. In terms of things that you could potentially improve: the references to "the dark," "The sun" and "the moon" in the second and third stanzas strike me as a bit vague, and you may want to expand upon them a bit to strengthen their significance. Also, I didn't understand the title of the poem, and was actually expecting a limirick when I first clicked on the thread. Very good work, overall.

Wyvern did the Charleston and the Choo-Choo Train Shuffle. He flung himself into a wild Tango, which quickly turned into a half-coordinated version of the Hucklebuck. This transformed into a Fox Trot as the music picked up, which started to mix with the Continental when it came to a halt. The lizard then burst into an impromptu Tap Dance routine which broke the quiet, almost Breakdancing as several curious eyes turned in his direction. "Wow, look at Wyvern's dancing" laughed Knight, pointing a gloved finger. "He can't even wait for the next song to-" "Who's dancing?!" cried Wyvern, continuing in his desperate attempts to evade the pokes of the butterflies surrounding him. The lizard raced around the room in some chaotic solo-waltz, the butterflies never failing to chase him and poke him with their weapons. As he jumped and clung to one of the shakey heart-shaped cut outs on the wall, they began tossing their toothpicks like javelines towards him. "Haaaalllllllllllp!" The band stared blankly as the lizard clawed his way up the wall, turning and moving into another number as the cut out began to tear against the lizards weight.

As Grashk schemes and Tanuchan spies on the plane of Gaia, a different kind of mischief transpires in the calm quarters of the Pen, accentuated by the screeching of furniture across Cabaret floors and the occasional almost dragonic cackle. Wyvern leans back on the Mighty Pen couch and relaxes as Bravery the Elder Dwarf struggles with a cardboard cut out figure, shoving it flatly against a wall next to a colorfully decorated sales booth and frowning upon seeing it. The mascot presents a cartoonish rendition of Stephen Hascodem, five cigarettes crammed into his enormous grinning mouth and a cool glass of Lemonoaid in his right hand. On the other end of the booth stands a Tanuchan mascot, similarly cartoonish, her hair exploding in all directions and a cup of Lemonoaid in each enthusiastic paw. "Still don't approve of your taste, Wyv." Bravery shakes his head and snorts, waving a hand to each of the cardboard figures and then the table. "Isn't this a little... disrespectul?" Wyvern perks his head up and lets out a low hiss, raising himself from the couch and causing a tiny tear in its fabric with his stinger. He wanders up to the booth and seats himself behind it, rummaging through a few sacks that rest underneath it. "Disrespectful?!" The lizard places a large pitcher of Almost Dragonic Brand Semi-Sweet Lemonoaid™ onto the table. "You've got a lot to learn, Bravery. If Ssstephen and Tanuchan were chosen for the mission, it's because they're known emissaries of the Almost Dragonic Brand Semi-Sweet Lemonoaid™ cause. I'm sure they'll be honored to endorse it here at the Pen in spirit." "O.K." Bravery sighs and hesitates, pointing at an open book that rests on the left end of the table. "But is the whole gambling bit necessary? I mean, if they're emissaries like you say, why offer the possibility of book-" "The Pen should have every right to place bets on whoever they please." The greedy lizard sneers, placing a small box of Almost Dragonic Brand Stephen Hascodem Queensleave Smoke Wraps™ next to a leaning pile of paper cups. "Gurrghur, Forsmach, whatever... it all brings in the same lovely geld. Haven't you been to Pen parties lately? Danger is IN! The whole orc thing just makes this product more appealing, you'll see." "Yeeeah..." Bravery lets his eyes trail to the ceiling. "But come on Wyv - a Tanuchan beauty program for those ages eighty and up? How are you going to explain that one to her when she gets back?" "Like I said - an honor!" The lizard grins broadly, placing what appear to be several lumps of congealed fur onto the table. "Speaking of Ms. Tanuchan, what do you think of these makeshift Almost Dragonic Brand Tanuchan Gaia Spy Action Figures™? Cuddly for the kids, and 100% natural... I just took a couple of Cambronne's leftover hairballs and-" "I've heard enough" says Bravery in a flat voice, shaking his head and turning from the booth. "Done with my duty, so I'll leave you to your little 'revival campaign.'" "Hey!" cries Wyvern, shaking a fist after the Elder Dwarf. "You have to admit that Almost Dragonic Brand Stephen Hascodem Blind Men Canes™ were a good idea! As was the Tanuchan Limb Puzzle™! Watch, this is gonna be huge!" ;-)