Wyvern

I like this poem/series of poems a lot, Loki Wyrd. The manner that you create interpretations and thoughts revolving around the quotes is very intriguing, as is the manner that you create specific scenarios pertaining to them. I especially liked the reference to the "invisible rails" that contrast with physical movement in the second piece, as well as the imperfect rhyme of "life" and "night" that seemed to bring the first piece to a powerful close. Great stuff.

-Summer- Torches lit the mid-Summer night sky as shouts of merriment rolled through the outskirts of Valensia, laughter accentuating the various eccentricities that the regal fair grounds had to offer. The eleventh celebration of Lymnor's Wake was a festive time indeed, boasting fire-eaters, jugglers, stilt-walking clowns and all the free ale a thirsty citizen could dream of consuming. A few sooty firework engineers rushed back and forth through the carnival crowds, chatting amongst themselves and occasionally pointing out the beautiful quilts and murals that had been crafted for the event. They passed a young girl at a toad gaming booth, who waved at them briefly before following her parents to watch a puppet show being presented on Lymnor's accomplishments. At an old oak table near a rest area adjacent to the puppet stand, a burly group of men in rugged cloaks of all shapes and colors talked amongst themselves over foaming mugs of ale, occasionally jeering and laughing at each others comments. "Twelve Antaen Silvers" exclaimed Coinpot Kren, flashing a crooked smile to a bald man with a glass eye across the table and winking to a man in a tattered green cloak sitting next to him. "For a coppered Lymnor head, c'n you believe it?! I swear, the folks out East don't even examine the merch." "Stroke o' luck" chuckled a short man seated to Kren's right, talking through a mouth full of ale. "You sold it in some farmin' town I wager." "Naw, right in th'center of Farshire, I swears!" Kren cocked his head up proudly, sneering at the short man, then at the bald man with the glass eye. "Watcha got to say to that, Gorth?" The bald man shook his head, setting his ale mug down on the table. "Not bad." His glass eye sparkled. "But how about this: once, I sold a dozen steel arrow heads to some Anarshin elves." The green-cloaked figure to Kren's left let out a long whistle upon hearing this and rolled his eyes. "Yer bluffing." "No I'm not." Gorth grinned and briefly raised the ale mug to his lips. "Forest of Anarash, got a good three golds for'em too. You never know with those elves, lemme tell you." "Yah" spoke up the short man, tilting his head towards Gorth. "Heard it don't matter if yer a Confederate or a Loom to them, they're all about that uhhh, what's it called-" "Individual worth." Gorth smiled. "Yah, that's it!" The short man raised his ale mug, toasting to Gorth's vocabulary. "Man, must be creepy meetin with some elves like that, not knowin if their gonna slit yer throat or land some money in yer pouch." Coinpot Kren tapped his fingers on the table, nodding silently to Gorth's story and scratching his chin. After a moment of thinking, he perked up and said: "That's pretty good, Gorth, but I gotta another one. When the Confederates started cleanin the filth from the towns north of Gremsdale, like Hentrall and Glenfurel, was impossible for a merchant like meself to sell things around the West. I swears, you couldn't even bring a wooden stick into Hentrall, they'd think it was a wand or somethin! So anyway, I had this stock o' old trinkets that I had to get off my hands, and guess where I wandered to to sell'em?" "Valensia?" jeered Gorth, his mock guess evoking an eruption of laughter from the table that was complimented by a gale of laughter from the children watching the puppet show. "Valensia, pshaw!" blurted Kren, groaning. "Sure Gorth, I wandered a whole day's journey from Gremsdale, ha! Try again... what would you say if I were to say Salinsway, in the East?!" The laughter slowly stopped as Kren revealed his boast, and the man in the tattered green cloak nodded thoughtfully as he considered it. "Made a journey to the Land of the Spooks, huh?" "Yup." Kren grinned and cracked his knuckles. "And you ain't heard the best of it. People 'round there really do think all strangers are part of the Accursed, but that didn't stop me. No sir! Still sold me trinkets, and made a profit of a good fifty silvers." "Hmph." Gorth nodded and finished his mug of ale. "That's pretty darn good Kren, consider me impressed. Salinsway... that's Southwest of that town Dunegarth, the one right on the border of the Awe Tundras right?" "Right." Kren shuddered. "Would never visit that place though, stories o' them Awe Tundras spook the hell outta me." "Heard it was the wildlife" chipped in the green-cloaked man, shaking his head solemnly. "Animals broke the seals around there, made the magic run wild. Not even the Accursed're brave enough to venture there... it's a shame, cus that mountain range beyond the Tundras ain't ever been explored." The conversation at the table was interrupted as a voice called from the crowds: "Hey Kren!" Coinpot Kren turned his head, perking up as he noticed a tall man with a long face in the throng of people, dressed in the familiar greys and blues of the Confederacy. "Well if it ain't Joshua." Kren raised himself from his seat, grinning and waving. "What are ya up to, lad?" "I'm headed to the central grounds of the fair, Emperor Neren is supposed to speak soon! Are you up to joining me?" Kren glanced at the crowd of merchants, then at Joshua, then at the merchants again. "Well, if ya don't mind then, I'll be on my way. Got some catchin up to do with an old friend." "Be sure to tell us about your adventurous journey to the center of the fair grounds later" teased Gorth, and the table broke into another enormous gale of laughter.

Salinye clutches her aching head with one hand as Wyvern drags her through the Carnival by the other, pulling her past Lorne and Scarlot's booth and briefly waving to Venefyxatu as a snowball wizzes by them. Picking up his pace as he glances at his Almost Dragonic Brand Discount Cereal Box Wristwatch™, the lizard turns towards the high elf for a moment and hisses: "It's only a little farther... Sssorry about this Salinye, but you have to see this new booth! I'm telling you, it's the perfect amalgam of a wishing booth, a kissing booth, an eating booth, and an Almost Dragonic Brand Discount Cereal Box Wristwatch Merchandise Stand™." Salinye cringes upon hearing Wyvern's description, her headache worstening. "It sounds... wonderful, Wyv. But do we really have to visit it now? It's getting late, and I'm a little tired." "Yes, we do!" exclaims Wyvern firmly, glancing up at the moonlit sky for a moment as he passes an auction stand that's in the midst of being set up. "Just a little farther, right around this corner. Oh, and shut yer eyes, I want to dazzle you with it." Salinye takes in a deep breath as she slowly closes her eyes, preparing for the very worse as she rounds the corner with Wyvern. As her almost dragonic guide comes to a halt, she opens them only to find a brightly lit birthday cake set upon a wooden table, along with a surrounding entourage of pennite well-wishers wearing party hats and bearing gifts. "See, what'd I tell ya?" hisses Wyvern, sticking out his forked tongue. "You can make a wish when you blow out the candles, there's plenty of eating and kissing to be had... oh, and before I forget." The overgrown lizard removes his Almost Dragonic Brand Discount Cereal Box Wristwatch™ and hands it to Salinye. "Happy birthday, Salinye!" ;-) OOC: Hope you have an awesome birthday, Salinye. Get well soon...

Wyvern pops into the Assembly for a moment to view the results of the Seranil vote and gawks, his eyes widening in disbelief as he notices that Option #4 didn't recieve a majority vote. Mumbling something about personal tastes under his breath, the overgrown lizard shakes his head and stickies the fourth description with a Seal of Almost Dragonic Admiration™ before jetting off to partake in another scheme...

I hope that everyone had a Happy New Years and enjoyed their celebrations. I realize this is late and such, but it's always interesting to reflect upon a year gone by, and I thought I'd mention a few of my personal highlights from 2004, accompanied by a couple of low points: Highlights: - Lounging around with Yui and Aegon in Los Angeles. - Starting out my radio show "Any Given Moment" (commenced January 2004) and dedicating it to the Pen, hosting on-air calls from Zool, Falcon2001, Yui Temae, Orlan, Big Pointy One, and Tamaranis amongst others. Interviewing Kimani Rogers and Doseone, and finding out that underground artists actually care about it and will listen in. Thanks to everyone who's called in or dropped AIMs, I'm talkin to you Cyril Darkcloud, Katzaniel, Vlad, etc! Big thanks to Degenero Angelos, Jonathon Wolfe, and Zool for the recordings... One more semester to go, I'll make it count. ;-) - Seeing Eyedea & Abilities, Blueprint, Illogic, and Grayskul perform amazing sets in concert for free with some friends, only to have D.J Abilities come to our dorms afterwards just to chat for a while. He even payed for our cab. - Meeting up with Peredhil, Ozymandias, and Ayshela at a Rennaisance festival for Peredhil's birthday (and practically suffocating at the hands of Ayshela's greeting methods, I might add! ;-)) - Watching the Pen continue to evolve and expand while reading its many wonderous offerings (the Carnivals have particularly impressed me, much respect to their organizers and participants), and being graced by the presence of Tanuchan, cryptomancer, Mynx, Gryphon, Black, HappyBuddha, and purple shadows (just to name a few that joined this year). - Meeting up and chatting with the super-talented producer/M.C Adlib before watching him perform in concert in San Francisco, and later meeting him again browsing in Amoeba L.A and exchanging thoughts with him about said concert. Low points: - A Typical Cats/Offwhyte show getting cancelled in Baltimore, thereby cancelling not only an amazing show, but an excellent opportunity to meet up and have fun with Ozymandias. - Spending my entire week of Spring break, including my 21rst birthday, working from 7 AM - 12 AM on an enormous English project. - Completely screwing up my radio show covering the Molemen, blowing the opportunity of interviewing Panik who just happened to call in and totally embarassing myself in front of him by accidentally cursing over the air. Most... embarassing... moment... EVER. - Failing to land any sort of editting or publishing internship over the course of the year.

"Chance" Brutal and direct: 15 points Told in third person: 10 points Overload of numbers that leaves the reader with the urge to grab the nearest blunt object and beat self over the head: -20 points AD&D dice terminology used in life or death situations: 5 bonus points The triple six roll minus the five rounds in the gun still adds up to a score of thirteen: 13 points The sixteen years of the protagonists life divided by the square root of the fourty seven times he's attempted suicide multiplied by the fifteen millimeters of the dice is equal to an overload of numbers that leaves the reader with the urge to grab the nearest blunt object and beat self over the head: -20 points "Any Given Moment" plug: 100 points Overall: (15 + 10 - 20 + 5 + 13 - 20 + 100) plus the number of Russian Roulette gambling missions Aardvark is willing to run for Wyvern = the rating. "Paper's Edge" Brutal and direct: 15 points Told in third person: 10 points Story itself is typed out, and contains no signature in blood: -10 points/-15 points for vampires. Mighty pens are referred to as "broken," "empty," and "useless.": -20 points The novel makes the cut in the end: 15 points Potential publisher aura is used to an unknown effect: 5 points Gives new meaning to the phrase "bloody flawless": 10 points Overall: (15 + 10 - 10/15 - 20 + 15 + 5 + 10) times the number of Almost Dragonic Brand Biros™ manufactured by Aardvark = the rating. "Broken" Brutal and direct: 15 points Told in third person: 10 points Protagonist enjoys sniffing fried silicon: 10 points Complex terminology such "solarplexis" and "plastiskin" used alongside the name "Ng": 5 points Notion that logic circuits weren't the only thing powerdrained by the Female Subjects comments: 5 points Protagonist insists upon "well oiled hinges" in place of a sternum: -10 points Latex gloves used: 5 bonus points Overall: (15 + 10 + 10 + 5 + 5 - 10 + 5) divided by the cost of developing marketable upgrades for male robots to impress female subjects = the rating. "Machine" Brutal and direct: 15 points Told in zee third person: 10 points Antagonist has a monocle: 10 points Antagonist speaks with a thick slavic accent: 10 points Antagonist is plotting for world domination: 0 points Chalkboard ultimately proves to be more deadly than Titanus: -5 points Titanus still proves to be an excellent piece of ceiling self-adjustment equipment: 10 points Mad Scientist Monthly contains no centerfolds: 0 points Chalkboard dies unexpectadly just before the end, by Titanus' gauge: 10 points Overall: (15 + 10 + 10 + 10 - 0 - 5 + 10 + 0 + 10) added to the number of Wyvern cameos with monacles, no hair, plans for world domination and a thick slavic accent that rip this off = the rating. "Opera" Brutal and direct: 15 points Told in first person: 10 points Protagonist lives to see another day: 5 points Gunbattle that starts off with parties pulling out bigger and bigger guns: 5 points Magazines falling from the protagonists pistols contain no centerfolds: 0 points Inspiration for the Hollywood spin-off B-movie Anaconda vs. Python clearly shown: 10 points Ute destroyed/rendered inoperateable: 5 points (thanks Valdar) Protagonist performs cat rolls while carrying six firearms in front of an amateur gunslinger just for show: 10 points Overall: (15 + 10 + 5 + 5 + 0 + 10 + 5 + 10) minus the number of Almost Dragonic Brand Transport Vehicles that have been blown to smithereens in Aardvark-inspired Hollywood gun duels = the rating "Subjection" Brutal and direct: 15 points Told in first person on principle: 10 points Protagonists denial of principles other than not tolerating cheaters: - 10 points Cheating incorporated into this A.R.S.E review: several gales of hardy laughter. Protagonist denies the connection of assassins to terrorism while exhibiting religious fanaticism: 10 points Protagonist lives to see another day: 5 points Third world children referred to as "paid": - 10 points Distinctive, male chauvinistic undertone: 15 points Overall: (15 + 10 - 10 + 10 + 5 -10 + 15) divided by any amount that Wyvern wants since he's already revealed that he's cheating = the rating. "Fronteer" Brutal and direct: 15 points Told in third person: 10 points Expenses of space equipment are never overlooked: 20 points Scientist lifespans are measured in hours: 10 points Scientist vital signs make protagonist puke: 5 points Biased views against rival corporations and gun laws: -10 points Expensive space equipment mistakes nuclear missile for a spacecraft: 0 points Overall: (15 + 10 + 20 + 10 + 5 - 10 + 0) plus the quotient of the probability of this space battle originating from "Sentinel" = the rating. "Escape" Brutal and direct: 15 points Told in first person: 10 points Protagonist takes a job as a flying superhero, but must still secure loans: 15 points Lack of excuse for interrupting Michael's dream of two chicks: -10 points Notion that Michael will still treat himself to scrambled eggs in the morning: 10 points Anti-smoking campaign insinuated in the corrolation between Joseph's smoking and suicidal thoughts: 15 points Full measurements of Sarah Hart not given: -10 points Overall: (15 + 10 + 15 - 10 + 10 + 15 - 10) times the number of Almost Dragonic Brand Add Campaigns™ Aardvark would be willing to advertise advertising advertisements for = the rating.

I really like these prose pieces, Katzaniel, sorry for taking so long to comment on them. To respond to those that haven't been touched upon yet, both Elevator Blues and Not Ready struck me as interesting and odd narrations of personal events. Not Ready came across as mainly comic in its portrayal of the coincidental correspondence between the song and the computer's state, though the manner that the song continued and responded to the narrators exclamation added an almost eery quality to the comedy at hand. Elevator Blues seemed less comic and more focussed on portraying the manner that ignorant people can jump to false conclusions, and offered a bit more food for thought. I liked the manner that Elevator Blues was narrated through a series of journal entries, as the different form of the piece was refreshing. Out of all of your prose pieces archived here, Empty Playground struck me as the most complete and the most provocative... I particularly liked the detail of the proposal being made at the sandbox of the playground, as it struck me as playful and original. I also thought that You Touched My Life was very well done, and it actually read like poetry to me in its uses of repetition and form. I thought the details given for each person that touched the narrator's life made it powerfully personal. Virtual Reality was probably my least favorite piece, as I couldn't seem to pinpoint any specific tone or concept that drove that one. Anyway, I think that these experimentations in prose are enjoyable and I look forward to reading more of them. Well done, Katzaniel.

I really like this story, Xaious. The dialogue is fast-paced and entertaining, the situations are playful and humorous, and the conflict introduced at the end of the segment is intriguing (I'm looking forward to a Part 2). You paint a nice picture of Isidor's character by showing the details of his personality through his dialogue and gestures, as well as through those of the waitresses and his friend Belle. There was one minor thing that caught my attention which could potentially be improved, which is the point of view. By the end of the piece, its obvious that the point of view focusses on the perspective of Isidor, with his impressions of Belle's smile and his inner-conflict revealed. At the beginning of the piece, however, the second paragraph seems to suggest that the perspective focusses on that of one of the waitresses. This made the reference to "This was turning out to be the best night since last night" a few lines down from the second paragraph a bit ambivalent to me in terms of who's point of view it was the first time I read it, and you could clarify this by maintaining a focus on Isidor's perspective in the first paragraphs (he could notice the waitresses having to deal with lecherous men). That minor complaint aside, I definitely enjoyed this piece and look forward to any sort of continuation.

OOC: This campaign setting will be used for my next serious roleplaying story, "Flight of the Zephyr," so if anyone is interested in participating in it they should read through this thread. The campaign is in developement and is flexible, so if you have any ideas that you think would work well in it feel free to PM them to me. If I approve of them, you can post them in this thread later. As mentioned in the topic description, Lymnor's Wake is closed to all Pen characters, and anyone who wishes to write in it will need to develope a character specifically for the setting. Rather than describing things directly, I'm going to reveal elements of the campaign through four events covering the four seasons: Spring, Summer, Autumn and Winter. Enjoy. IC: -Spring- The large conference hall stood eerily empty as the early morning sunlight broke through its lavender curtains, reflecting off of open seats and illuminating spirals of dust in large shafts of light. Marcus Tormellus watched the dust as it coiled and flowed, his strange silver eyes gradually following its path until they reached the clock that rested in the far corner of the room. He adjusted his formal purple cloak and chained medallions, still finding them somewhat loose on his thirteen year old body, and made sure that the ruby comb nestled in his jet black hair was clearly visible. Leaning back against his podium, he rubbed the variety of rings on his hands and crossed his arms over his chest, watching as the first of the uninitiated entered into the chamber. Men and women soon began flowing into the hall in a tide of emotional hues, their faces expressing confidence, anxiety, eagerness, reluctance, excitement, boredome… marks of individuality that contrasted with their formulaic formal blue and grey attires. Marcus smiled as he breathed in the essences of his future disciples, his eyes darting from corner to corner to intake every visage, every peculiarity of his students. He waited until the hall had been filled, then took a small sceptor out of his cloak and banged it loudly on his podium, insinuating an immediate silence. As the voices died down, he exclaimed: “Time will explain it all. He is a talker, and needs no questioning before he speaks.” Marcus smiled and paced forward. “That is a quote from Euripides’ Aeolus, particularly pertinent to this series of information sessions. There will be no questioning during these meetings, for the accuracy of history will answer all uncertainties.” Marcus paused for a moment, his eyes suddenly focusing on a man and a woman seated in the rear of the hall. “Nor will there be any idle banter, Lorin Asmireldis and Joshua Kerrinats.” The two chatters immediately sat up, not sure whether to be more shocked at the professor having noticed them whispering or his knowledge of their names. “To answer the question that the two of you were too spineless to ask: this body, as well as my perceptive sight, are results of the Accursed… wretched malices that I must endure for the remainder of my life. Consider them severe battle scars.” Pausing for a moment, Marcus eyed Lorin and Joshua to make sure they were attentive, then spread out his arms. “Welcome, one and all, to the informative segment of the Antaen Confederacy’s training sessions. It is a pleasure to see the presence of elves, halflings, and other races in this crowd today… there was a time when the Confederacy was dominantly human, when the pull and allure of the Loom Rebellion pinnacled in its power. I am Marcus Tormellus, also known as Marcus of the Know, though you shall simply refer to me as ‘Sir.’ Let us begin.” Marcus stepped up to the podium and took his place, his medallions clinking and his rings glowing in the light. “Long ago, in the Years of the Dragon, the continent of Antaea was split and divided into jagged lines, war zones dominated by powerful emperors unafraid to conquer with the arcane power, that hideous weapon known only as magic. The power of magic ravished, destroyed, and utterly controlled the war. It was only a matter of time before the mages began rebelling against their emperors and waging wars of their own, and soon chaos and destruction were the only forces known to Antaea.” Marcus paused for a moment, his silver eyes speculative and his ruby comb reflecting light. “Emperor Tharis and Emperor Ferin were the first to form the Confederacy against magic in light of its frightfully destructive powers, and were quickly joined by Emperess Shia and Emperor Neren. Soon, the warring nations turned to nations warring against magic, though there were a few exceptions. Emperor Cludis wished to continue in his conquests of land, and Emperess Quara was driven to abuse magic in hopes of gaining of absolute power… but these rebelling lords were ultimately overthrown by their own sorcerors, and soon it was man against mage. The Confederacy fought bravely, but from the beginning it was understood that warring against magic was futile. Many of the powers fell and it seemed that arcane forces would forever dominate the continent. Hope was lost for mankind.” Marcus turned his head to a ray of sunlight for a moment and smiled, his eyes glowing with radiance. “Then, he came. Our savior, Lymnor the Great Sorceror, also known as Lymnor the Rebel Magician. Tired of seeing the chaos and bloodshed caused by magic, he formed a coalition of like-minded mages who turned to aid the Confederacy in its struggle. Together, they sacrificed their own powers to banish magic from the lands entirely, dispelling it by extracting it to seals that they carefully hid throughout the lands. Order was soon restored, and the wars came to an end as the Emperors decided to rule Antaea together in peace.” Marcus paused for a moment and sighed. “If only it were that simple… With the Confederacy established, it was only a matter of time before a rebellion was formed against it. The Loom Rebellion began to come about after Lymnor passed away in the Years of the Scorpion, and was formed by fallen sorcerors who wished to retrieve their lost power. Forming different coalitions and orders, the Loom Rebels sought out the hidden seals where magic had been stored, infusing it into their bloodstreams when it was found. These rebels infused with magic have been labeled the Accursed, as you know, and are hunted by the Confederacy to this day. Thankfully, the seals have been well hidden, and each seal offers only a limited amount of magic, which has given the Confederacy the opportunity to stop these Rebels and to be able to fight them on an equal playing field.” Marcus turned to a shadowy corner of the room. “There are also beings worse than the Accursed… things that have found and abused magic to the point of losing their humanity entirely. These are known as Abominations, and have fortunately only been known to act as solitary creatures, often with cryptic and arcane behavior that falls outside the category of a rebellion. It is not the duty of the Antaen Confederacy to conquer or destroy this type of being, and it is advisable that if you learn of the presence of an Abomination, you simply ignore it and avoid it entirely. Best not to mingle with that breed.” Marcus took out his sceptor again, and waved it in a semi-circle to span the crowd. “You, of course, are all here as you wish to aid the Antaen Confederacy in stopping the Loom Rebellion and its Accursed. Remember well that you should show no mercy to those with magic in their bloodstream, as the sentence to such a thing is and can only be death. Even I, a loyal member of the Confederacy, eventually face the death sentence for the scars that have been infused within me… I simply have chosen to live the last years of my life as a teacher under strict guard of the Confederacy, to pass my first hand knowledge down to you disciples in the hopes of your learning from my experiences. I applaud your bravery, and wish you the best in your training.” Marcus tapped his sceptor on the podium. “Class, for the day, is dismissed.”

Dear Pedro, Thank you very much for the hardy meal at Travis' concert hall, it was scrumptiously filling. The food was so good that I didn't even leave any geld tip, since I thought it was priceless! *ahem* Anyway, I figured I owed ya a note or something... So to be more specific, the tossed jumbo seahorse salad with barnacle sprinkles and a dolphin fin was fit for a merman king, and could surely feed a merman army. It tasted perfect with the charbroiled unicorn horn, which complimented the flavor of the barnacles with a bitterness akin to gargantuan sea squid ink. The extra crispy chocolate malted turtle doves were fly in flavor, and the sweet and sweeter sauce was sweeter than the sweetest sugar golem sweat. The sardine and pixie wing pizza was worthy of the best witch pizzerias, as was the cup of witches brew, which had the loveliest tang of zombie brains and was refreshingly free of eyes of newts. Of course, I can't forget the leg of satyr that you so kindly replaced, which simply sang with flavor. The siren monster tentacle platter also sang some alluring tunes, and was just as good despite its slightly higher pitch and tone. The frog legs smelt of royalty, and the slices of manticore you prepared roared with flavor... Curly onion cheese doodles are curly onion cheese doodles, one of the best snacks around. That cockatrice platter was great as well, as was the accompanying gorgon entree... both of them seemed perfect for stoners. Speaking of entrees, if the seahorse salad was fit for a merman army, the gargantuan sea serpent was surely fit for several mermen communities! It was a most excellent dish, though I got a bit lost inside of it and slipped on the hammerhead shark meat a few times. The Kraken Chowder was similarly collosal, and was good enough to make even the most elite of Forjibord chefs proud. I also liked the flame elemental and golem platter, which was sufficiently spicey and excellent for roasting the afformentioned satyr leg, though it gave me a bit of heart burn. It tasted great inside of the ogre club sandwich, as it drowned out the flavor of goblin-farmed squash. The macaroni and tri-tusked warthog was also excellent, as the troglyodyte sauce tasted like it was fresh from the underworld. Oh, and that half a chimera- superb! The goat head part of it was particularly tender. I admit that my memories of taste become a bit hazy after that point... The gnomish sunday may have been the one flawed part of the menu, as it didn't seem as if it was forged under your hand and tasted a bit screwy. After that, I remember the refreshing minty flavor of a cake as well as the excellent taste of the finest chocolate. Speaking of which, my final memory before passing out is of half a chocolate Pen figurine that I didn't manage to finish. If you could be so kind to send me this leftover in the mail, I'll gladly devour it now. Thanks again, I'll be sure to check out that book of yours "Minding your Workout with Matter"... or was it "Working out Matter with Travis"? Yours, Wyv~

Wyvern sits silently in the corner of the Cabaret Room, his eyes widening and his forked tongue hanging loose as Ayshela announces the results of the bachelorette auction. The reptilian Elder bounces up and down gleefully when his name is called alongside Wrenwind, his nose bleeding upon hearing Ayshela mention the possibility of "escapades" and his tail trembling slightly. Turning to Horace and Rhapsody, the lizard bows apologetically for not winning them over and quickly whips out a piece of Almost Dragonic Brand Loose Leaf Paper™, scrawling something onto it in an illegible hand. Racing over to Wrenwind, the lizard hands the large leaf to her and flashes her a grin of razor sharp teeth, winking sinisterly and letting out an evil cackle as he departs from the area. Wrenwind frowns upon seeing this, and the frown only deepens when she unfolds the leaf to find option #2 written there, with the word "supposed" crossed out and replaced with the adjective "HOT." ;-)

A very nice poem, sweetnightmare. I really like the imagery that you incorporate throughout it, particularly the metaphor of "Gentle slits of angel tears" for rain drops, which I found striking. The contrast between the "Dry bitterness" of the flower in heat and its "beauty" after the rains have fallen is also intriguing, and makes for an interesting read. In terms of potential improvements, one thing that struck me as a bit out of place was the way that the last stanza begins with "Here is a lesson to be learned," which seems to come off as rather pretentious in tone. Perhaps if this line were simply dropped from the stanza, it would work better. Once again, nice work. Great to see you posting in these halls.

I like this poem a lot, Jareena. It establishes a fantasy setting nicely through its cryptic depictions of sprites and men, and has a catchy rhythm to it that really holds my attention. I particularly like the uses of repitition, especially in the second stanza where "Soon enough" is cleverly incorporated in two different contexts. One line that struck me as a bit awkward in the poem was "And through sin, death" in the sixth stanza, which seemed to break the otherwise consistant rhythm of the poem just a bit. Once again, nicely done. I'm sure that the fantasy comic will benefit from your work.

This evening, I rented and watched "Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind" on DVD. I had heard many good things about it and was eager to see it, and after watching it I must say that I think it's a very good film. It was bizarre and extremely confusing, but came together like an elaborately constructed puzzle as it moved along. Jim Carrey and Kate Winslet both handled their roles nicely, and the film definitely provided a lot of food for thought. My only complaint would be that they may have overdone it with the uses of the Lacuna drug just a bit, as it seemed like every other character was on it by the end. "Eternal Sunshine" is probably not the best film if you're looking for a quick fix, but I'd recommend it to movie viewers who like to piece together plots and reflect upon movies after watching them. I also decided to watch the film "Catwoman" recently on a plane flight to see if it was really as bad as I had anticipated. I was surprised to find that it wasn't as bad as I thought... it was worse! This film is laughably horrible and incredibly easy to make fun of, but even loses its comedy value as it nears the end. Character development is entiirely ignored and replaced by a lightning fast action plot dealing with ancient egyption cats (?!), evil beauty product manufacturers (hahaha), and leather bondage outfits (the one positive thing in the movie). Halle Berry bombs in her role as Catwoman with the greatest of ease, effortlessly ruining the character and any sense of drama the film might have had to offer... not to say that it had any to begin with, given the "quality" of the dialogue. Four simple words: don't waste your cash.

A nice poem, Equester. The beliefs that it expresses are strongly driven across through its questioning of organized religion. I particularly liked the manner that contrasting terms such as "murder" and "lessons" were placed side by side in lines to emphasize ambivalence, as well as the constant repetition of "believe" which was striking and evocative. In terms of improvements, there was a minor tense problem in the first two lines, as they switch from past to present tense. The ending of the poem also struck me as a bit awkward, as it seems to back the narrators views by presenting a rather unrealistic reaction that only gave them a weak sense of authority. Perhaps the poem could be tied together through the voice of the narrator, rather than an outside reaction? Once again, nicely done. You can read Parmenion's poem Christianity for more work of this nature, if the concept interests you.

I've been listening to a number of CD releases that I considered standouts in 2004 in the last few months, and have come up with a tentative top ten list for my favorite albums of last year. There are still a few albums that I haven't had the chance to listen to which I'd like to, and a few of the lower positions here are a bit shakey and change depending on my mood, but here is my current listing: 10) Murs - "3:16 the 9th Edition" Murs makes his mark once again on the scene with a dope EP, backed by the productions of uber-popular indie producer 9th Wonder. Murs is your every day homie who happens to be good at M.Cing, rapping about girl problems, street stories, and racial issues in the music industry amongst other things. 9th Wonder, though overrated in general, backs his sharp lyrics with some soulful production, which is impressive given the way he makes them only using the program Fruity Loops. Overall, the EP is a nice listen front to back, replayable and very down to earth in style. 9) The Opus - "Breathing Lessons" The best instrumental hip hop album of the year. The Opus' second opus is a dense collage of downtempo dub, moody instrumentals, and dark drum and bass that wouldn't feel out of place in some edgy science fiction horror flick. While their first album suffered from repetitive programming, they make up for it on this outing with some very elaborately constructed tracks and clever uses of sampling (check out the tornado melodies on the standout track "Whirlwind-Guardian"). Music for insomniacs. The Goods - "4/Four" M.C Kunga 219 and D.J Gordski once again demonstrate how underrated the Canadian hip hop scene is with their fourth disc, this time professionally manufactured on Camobear Records and distributed by Universal Music Canada's Maplenationwide branch. Hailing from Halifax, the hip hop duo demonstrate an infectious upbeat enthusiasm and deliver 18 quality tracks of traditional boom bap. Canadian M.Cs Pip Skid, Birdapres, Tachichi, and Josh Martinez all guest on tracks, and they rip the microphones proper. DMC champ Skratch Bastid also handles the cuts with authority. The CD is sadly unavailable in the U.S due to lack of distribution around these parts, but is well worth searching out. 7) Micranots - "The Emperor and the Assassin" Getting into the real heavy hitters now... After a lengthy hiatus and a disappointing side project called Semi-Official, I Self Devine and D.J Kool Akiem Allah return with their third and best full length album to date. The Micranots deliver their own brand of hip hop, which is best described as barrages of street imagery coupled with choppy and original beats. The CD possesses a unique sound courteousy of Kool Akiem, and I Self once again shows why he's overlooked as an M.C by touching upon topics such as the difficulties of being a black police officer in the ghetto. A very solid and consistant album. 6) cLOUDDEAD - "Ten" This CD leaves lots of people in a state of bewilderment and confusion. Coming completely out of left field, Doseone, Why?, and Odd Nosdam deliver a delicate record that they've lovingly labeled "American Made Bedroom Music." The album honestly couldn't have less to do with hip hop, and sounds something like Ween doing karaoke pop melodies over Boards of Canada. Startlingly original and seemingly haphazardous, it has a definitive structure below the surface that somehow makes it come across as harmonic and beautiful. Recommended to adventurous listeners with a taste for experimental music. 5) Sach - "5th Ave" A very pleasant surprise from L.A native and former Nonce affiliate Sach. The record brings a traditional brand of hip hop with a powerful edge to it, largely thanks to L.A super-producer Omid, who takes a number of chances musically and creates a superb musical background for Sach to spit over. I'd be willing to say that this is some of the best material of both Sach and Omid's lengthy careers, and this CD is the result of a hip hop combo made in heaven. 4) Robust - "Potholes in our Molecules" As the title suggests, Robust spits some nerd rap knowledge. However, while Robigga is a good M.C with clever lyrics and rhyme schemes, the real standout element of this CD is the production, which is simply some of the best hip hop production of the year. Chicago heavyweight producers Meaty Ogre, D.J Whitelightning, and Dreas all deliver incredible tracks, and the lesser known producer Prolyphic also comes through with some gorgeous melodies. The CD has a dreary and melancholic atmosphere not normally associated to hip hop, which works marvels with Robust's flow. A musical masterpiece. 3) Longshot - "Sacrifice" Coming from a family of six raised in the ghettos of Southside Chicago and having to deal with his mothers own incarceration, Longshot delivers one of the most memorable street-oriented hip hop albums in recent years. Pain is art, and the honesty that Longshot expresses over the course of the album paints a vivid depiction of his struggle. Of course, it certainly doesn't hurt to have beats from Chicago's hottest production squad, the Molemen, either. It should be noted that Longshot's voice and style aren't everyone's cup of tea, but if you can appreciate them you'll thoroughly enjoy this album. 2) MF DOOM - "MM... FOOD" Hmmm... how to describe this CD? The tracks are divided into a three course meal, consisting of "Appetizers," "Special Recipes," and "Entrees." On the first track, "Beef Rapp," DOOM raps: "I suggest a change of diet/ it could lead to high blood pressure if you fry it/ or even a stroke, heart attack heart disease/ there ain't no turning back when arteries start to squeeze." Later on "Kon Kueso," he spits: "oh shoot the goosies loose/ couldn't even chase it down with straight fruit juice/ frown like the first time you taste koose koose/ please pass the douce douce/ troops asking 'truce truce!'" Of course, to say the album only covers food wouldn't be doing it justice. On "Deep Fried Frenz," DOOM breaks down the concept of friendship: "I check the dictionary for the meaning of 'Friends,' it says:/ 'Person that one likes to socialize with/ sympathizer, helper' and that's about the size of it/ most of the time these attributes is one sided/ and most of the crime they have to shoot you through your eye lid." In addition to showing culinary expertise, MF DOOM maintains the persona of the metal masked supervillain of hip hop, interspersing his tracks with snippets from old "Fantastic Four" cartoon shows and frequently bringing up references to his metal mask and plots for world domination in his songs. I think it's safe to say at this point that this is a fairly original album... did I mention that the title is an anagram of his name? 1) Subtle - "A New White" This album is simply phenomenal. Subtle is a genre-defying six man band consisting of Adam "Doseone" Drucker (vocals), Jeffrey "Jel" Logan (drum machines), Dax Pierson (keyboards, dr. sample, melodica, auto-harp), Alexander Kort (accoustic and electric cello, upright bass), Jordan Dalrymple (drums, guitar), and Marty Dowers (keyboards, bass clarinet, flute, tenor sax). J. Good also joins in on trumpet on a few tracks. The result of this musical collaboration is something that seemlessly blends indie rock and electronica with the outerlimits of hip hop, naturally transitioning from singing to rapping to spoken word to singing again, often multiple times per track. Doseones nasal voice and breath control are like musical instruments in themselves, providing numerous harmonies to compliment the already complex and innovative melodies. His lyrics are fragmented, post-modernist poetry... shards of striking imagery and whispers of insanity conveniently provided in a lyric booklet for better comprehension. Unlike cLOUDDEAD, Subtle presents a more immediately accessible side of Doseone, though it's no less innovative. If there is one flaw with this album, it may be that it can be overwhelming in a single listen if you're not prepared for it. For me, though, this is the best album of the year. You can read more about Subtle at http://www.subtle6.com

Sweetnightmare fidgets uneasily in her applicant easychair as she ponders where the Elder of Initiates' could be, staring towards the front door of the Office and sighing to herself softly. The words of Yui, Zariah, and Peredhil provide her with a source of comfort in her wait, constantly affirming and reassuring her that she is wanted by the Pen community and softening her fears a bit. She decides to lift herself from her seat in the hopes of inquiring one of her three comforts about the whereabouts of the late recruiter when the Office door slams open and Wyvern races in, dressed in an amalgam of Hawaiin coloring and beer stains. The reptilian Elder bows to her apologetically as he enters, and pauses to catch his breath for moment before hissing: "Greetingsss, sorry for the lateness. Have been having a few business issues recently involving a couple of animal health agencies and mime unions that seem to be showing a distinct lack of sympathy for Almost Dragonic Brand Spin-Offs®. *Ahem* Moving onwards... your application." The overgrown lizard snaps a scaly finger and quickly sprints to his desk, digging through several piles of papers there and cursing to himself until he comes across sweetnightmares application. Carefully reading over her poem, the reptilian Elder casts her a grin of razor sharp teeth and hisses: "Well... for a nightmare, your poem is certainly sweet." "Thank you... I think?" Sweetnightmare fiddles with her hair nervously. "I realize I'm probably a Stranger to you now, umm, I mean a potential friend. I mean, that is to say, I'd like to become a regular. Oh, please don't hack and slash my grammar!" "No strangers here" hisses the lizard reassuringly, winking to the applicant. "Though I must say, I find it rather strange that you'd donate such a fine pair of golden wings to your friend, and stranger still that you wouldn't bring them to this Office for inspection. I'd very much like to, errr, 'try them on'." "Oh, I'm sorry." Sweetnightmare frowns and goes still. "My friend's currently sleeping, and I've already been waiting for an eternity, so..." "Understandable." Wyvern digs through his desktop for a moment in search of the acceptance stamp only to pause and hesitate. Grabbing the stamp, he lifts himself from his seat and suddenly jumps up close to the applicant, causing her to gasp. Eyeing the Office entrance warily, the lizard whispers to her: "One other thing, just for your personal safety: you didn't read this poem near that door over there did you? I'm afraid he has a thing for girls that dig great willows..." Sweetnightmare raises a brow upon hearing this and slowly shakes her head, only to brighten up considerably as the lizard immediately stamps her application ACCEPTED. ;-) OOC: An ACCEPTED application poem, sweetnightmare, welcome to the Mighty Pen! I've enjoyed reading your poems as well as your numerous comments on other peoples' works... I hope the Pen provides you with an environment that proves to be as comfortable as it is friendly and refreshing, and look forward to reading more of your material. Once again, welcome!

Wyvern groggily awakens from his slumber just as the waiters begin closing in to remove his platters from the table, sitting up and hissing defensively when he notices that his food may be in jeopardy. Hoarding his dishes to the center of the table and lashing out at any waiter that dares to touch the cuisine, the greedy lizard seats himself on the tabletop and mutters: "Ssssorry about that" *yawwwwn* "Sssome musical melody must have put me to sleep." The reptilian Elder perks up his head a moment to listen, pulling the bowl of Kraken chowder that he had yet to finish towards himself as he hisses: "Sssay, there is some music playing in the background now, isn't there?" The waiters all stare at Wyvern in disbelief, their mouths agape, until one of them bursts out: "P-p-put you to sleep?! Par le Diable! That music is Travis' exquisite harp, and it is meant for dancing! Dancing!" The waiter accentuates his words by breaking out into a bit of flamenco, twisting around the dining room in fluid movements and finishing off his demonstration by sweeping another of the waiters off of his feet. Wyvern nods silently as he watches this, and then hisses: "I sssee... well, I'll be certain to read Travis' 'Working Out with Mind Over Matter' or whatever the heck the book was called. For now, however, I must get back to eating." With that, Wyvern grins and dives into the entree that he had missed in his last eating interval, slurping up the contents of the Kraken Chowder from within the bowl in large waves and occasionally surfacing for saltine crackers. Once the soup has been emptied, the overgrown lizard sluggishly turns to the gnomish sunday, frowning upon noticing that part of it has melted and licking it up in slow movements. The lizard belches loudly once the ice cream bowl has been cleaned, spitting out a loose bolt that had somehow ended up in it as he gradually turns to the Elven Winter Mint cake. The lizard carefully cuts the beautiful pastry into slices and proceeds to eat them one at a time, his jaw motions slowing with each piece as the waiters whisper amongst themselves: "Monsieur lizard has come far, do you think he will finish?" "Ha! He will surely explode." "I'll wager he finishes half the cake." "You're on. I'll bet two dish rags and a waltz that he manages the whole meal." "He's slowing down...!" Wyvern sits silently for a moment as he savours the last piece of Elven Winter Mint cake, slowly turning towards the chocolate Pen figurines that represent his final course. He picks up the pennite figurines one at a time, eating them in small bites and nibbles, no longer able to take in large quantities and relishing the taste of each individual figurine. The waiters watch in awe as Wyvern devours almost every figurine in this way, until he has reached the very last one, a caramel-filled chocolate Orlan figure, at which point he briefly pauses. "S-ss-ssso good" gurgles Wyvern, reaching out a trembling claw and grasping the final figurine. The waiters collectively gasp as the lizard devours half of the figurine in a single bite, backing away as he licks his lips at its taste and moves in for more. He nibbles around the edges and slurps out the caramel, opening his maw to stuff himself with the upper torso of the figure only to drop it back onto the platter. The waiters stare in awe as a silence fills the room. "G-g-gooood" *burrrrrrrrp* "meeeaaal." With that, Wyvern finally collapses face down onto the table unconscious, only half a figurine away from finishing his entire meal yet unable to eat another bite...

I recently had the opportunity to come across a box of Toffifee candies at a duty free airport booth in Europe, which I decided to try out given Quincunx's recommendation. My expectations were naturally high, and upon first eating one by swiftly chewing it I was a bit indifferent to its flavor and slightly disappointed. However, sucking on them proved to be a much more flavorful experience, and once I discovered this method of eating them they became quite addictive. Overall, I wouldn't call them mind-blowing, but they were definitely tasty and worth my purchase. Next up on the list of recommended candies to try: Lady Celes Crusador's recommendation of "Zero Bar," easily found here in the States. Still struggling in my search for mint M&Ms, mint KitKats, and strawberry KitKats... perhaps they were limited edition flavors?

"Equester" whispers Stropha, quickly shifting back into the form of a raven. "I sense... a great annoyance." "What?" mutters Equester quietly just as Wyvern barges in through the front door of the Office. The overgrown lizard takes long strides into the room, hurting Woody's feelings with his lack of an apology and causing Peredhil to go back to consoling him. The reptilian Elder grins and nods upon seeing Equester, then turns to Tanuchan in concern and places a claw on her shoulder as he heroically hisses: "Tanuchan, I heard a cry, and you're sssquinting. Are you hurt?" Tanuchan turns her human head to Wyvern for a moment, slightly baffled by his concern. "Why... I-I'm fine, I think. Thank y-" "Have no fear" exclaims Wyvern, pulling out a large bag of Almost Dragonic Brand Leftover Mannequin Arms and Legs™. "Hide in these for now, I'll deal with the applicant." "Wait-" manages Tanuchan before Wyvern dumps the bags contents onto her head, burying her in arms and legs. Turning once again to the applicant, the lizard observes him from head to toe, then makes his way to the recruitment desk and searches through a pile of papers until he comes across Equester's application. Scratching his scaly head and looking over the former Templar's resume, the reptilian Elder glances towards him and hisses: "Sssso lemme get this straight in the hopes of being crooked... you have the knowledge of several ancient tomes of power, yet you've been outlawed and are frequently looked down upon by your brethren? Soundsss kinda familiar." "That is correct" mutters Equester, eyeing Wyvern cautiously as the lizard turns his application sheet sideways and upsidedown. "Me and my Dj- errrr... pet raven came to these halls as we sensed great powers of good and evil mingling here. For the record, I can firmly assure you that my pet raven is incapable of causing eyes any sort of torment, and would never touch any women akin to wolves." "I see" mutters Wyvern, kicking back in his favorite easychair and stretching. "Well, you'll find nothing but the forces of good in this Office, as I'm certain you'll find me a trustworthy accountant and investor, even when it comes to spending 98% of your profits on a single far-fetched yet perfectly executable scheme. Nice to see that you have a pet raven, I'm sure he'll get along with cryptomancer nicely." "Glad you like him." Equester snickers silently, nudging and winking to Stropha. "He's a pure bred" Wyvern nods. "Of courssse, you'll have to get him an Almost Dragonic Brand Leash™, an Almost Dragonic Brand Pet Dental Care Plan™, and an Almost Dragonic Brand Neutering Service™." Wyvern pulls out several sheets of paper for Equester to sign, and Stropha opens his beak in horror only to have it swiftly stuffed with a stale Almost Dragonic Brand Edgar Allen Poe Substitute Birdy Treat™. As Equester reads through the pet documents in morbid fascination, Wyvern stamps his application ACCEPTED and whispers: "Oh, and regardless of what people sssay, remember that the thing that bonds the Mighty Pen (as well as the entire world) together is geld, glorious geld! Ssspeaking of which, that'll be 5 geld for application services please." ;-) OOC: On a more serious note: a well-roleplayed application Equester, and an ACCEPTED application. Welcome to the Mighty Pen! I look forward to reading more of your writing here, and apologize for the wait... the holidays deprived me of board access for a bit. Once again, welcome!

Wyvern strides into the Cabaret Room and pauses upon reaching Zariah's list, scratching his scaly chin upon noticing the numerical listing of pennites underneath the phrase "Secret Valentine." Grinning to himself as thoughts of chocolate and romantic extortion schemes flutter through his almost dragonic head, the overgrown lizard scrawls his name as number seventeen in the listing. He then turns away from the area and hums to himself happily, retreiving a prototype copy of the first issue of the Mighty Pen Weekly from his cloak and tearing out a page from it in the hopes of making some sort of heart-shaped design...

"YeeeaaaaAAAAAAAAAAH!" Bravery let out a dwarven war cry as he rushed out onto the snowy field, fully equiped with a dwarven rock-carrying sack of snowballs and clenching his teeth as the last of the mud falls from his back. He spent no time contemplating losses, but jumped forward as Elrohir let out another furious volley of snowballs, performing a rolling slide as each of them proved to be way off-target. "Yaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhh!" The Elder Dwarf dodged back and forth as Venefyxatu tossed several snowballs at him, arriving at the sculptors ice booth just in time to grab a thin piece of ice and hold it up as a shield, blocking a snow barrage from Kasmandre T. Koot's impregnable ice tower in the process. He turned to toss a snowball just as Venefxatu tossed another one from behind, blocking the maze-head's attack with his own. "Heeeeaaaaaaahhhhh!" Bravery fearlessly dashed out into the field area once again, cartwheeling as several high shots aimed at Kasmandre's tower from Katzaniel arced from within the maze and crashed around him. Still untouched, he turned towards the inexhaustable source of snowballs known as Minta Rose just in time to duck down as seven tightly formed balls passed overhead, jumping to the side as a new volley erupted from her only moments later. Reaching into his sack, he countered Minta's machine gun volley with a rapid-fire volley of his own, only to find his sack empty at the end of the third succession of snowballs. "Ye-e-e-a-a-a-a-a-a-a-a-a-a-a-h-h-h-h-h-h!" Bravery suddenly seemed to move in slow motion as he dashed in the direction of Kasmandre's tower, seemingly doomed by the next round from Minta's arsenal as fourteen large snowballs sailed in his direction. Much to the amazement of the other participants, the dwarf sidestepped the enormous snowball volley and agiley jumped foreward, using the large pattern of snowballs as a staircase leading to the tower wall. Reaching into his tunic, Bravery let out a triumphant grin as he pulled out a dwarven grappling hook and threw it towards the top of the ice tower, screaming: "Yeeeeaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaarrrhhhh!" Unfortunately for Bravery, the dwarven grappling hook proved to be too small and fell short of Kasmandre's area, faintly clinging to the ice wall for a moment before slipping and falling. The Elder Dwarf's grin turned to a look of horror as he crashed into the wall, followed by fourteen snowballs, each of them labeled with the word 'It' and newly muddied from Bravery's dwarven boots...

Wyvern wobbles as he makes his way back down the hall towards his Office, his woolen overcoat now covered with spork markings and his breaths coming in low, nervous pants. The overgrown lizard adjusts a large furry hat on his head as he arrives at his quarters, ignoring the cold soup that drips from it as he eagerly reaches a poorly-gloved claw under his door crack in search of geld. Frowning and cursing to himself when he finds nothing there other than a few threatening letters from tax agencies, he turns to the note that he had tacked onto the doors exterior and examines its writing curiously. Deciding that the sloppily written "January 1rst" could easily be interpreted as a '4th,' the reptilian Elder quickly snatches it and tears it up before scratching his scaly chin in contemplation. Digging into his overcoat, he pulls out a bottle shaped like a bag of coins labeled "Almost Dragonic Brand Vodblah™" and attaches it to the door by means of a leftover New Years party blower and a special chef noodle string/whip to hang it from. The greedy lizard then quickly scrawls the words "help yourself!" onto its label before darting into his room just as Clam Chowder Head and Metal Lady Fingers stroll into the hall. "Chasing this lizard is becoming tedious" mutters the soup-headed chef operative as he wanders down the hall, shaking his head. "If I have to brew another head of borsch for customs services, I swear I'll puke cabbage." "Awww, c'mon Clam Chowder Head" says Metal Lady Fingers, licking her spork fingers in a very undainty manner as she walks alongside him. "I kinda liked it out over there, some of those spoon designs were pretty darn attractive. Don't forget, we need to thank that Vene guy for the directions." "Right" mumbles Clam Chowder head, pausing as he reaches Wyvern's door and sniffing at the bottle that hangs from it. "Hmph, this bottle reeks of Bruteweiser." "Awww, do we have to continue the investigation now?" Metal Lady Fingers stretches her arms, along with her newly-cleaned spork fingers. "I could kinda go for one of those little coffees you can get at Celes Crusadors place myself... y'know, the ones that are sort of like mini versions of your head?" "Alright, alright." Clam Chowder Head sighs and shakes his head again, spilling some piping hot ramen noodle soup in the process. "Let's take a breather... but only under the condition that you get those sporks washed by some professional dishwashers." Metal Lady Fingers sticks her tongue out and slashes with her hands left and right as the two of them begin walking down the hall, and slowly disappear from sight. OOC: Back from my trip, sorry for any inconveniences my absence may have caused. I arrived back here late on the 2nd, then went to bed and ended up sleeping for literally 21 hours. o_O (Quincunx's depiction of Wyvern in the Concert dining hall is strangely accurate, it seems!) Currently a little tired and there's lots of things I need to catch up on, but I'm reading up on things and will be back in full posting mode shortly. Thanks, and sorry again for any threads or projects I may have held up in my absence.

Wyvern continues sitting at his "Traditional Almost Dragonic Brand Last Minute Presents™ Booth," twiddling his claws innocently and whistling to the tune of "Wyvern the Blue Nosed Elder." The greedy lizard rearranges the items on the tabletop to make sure that people notice them better, placing the ancient jarred candy cane powder in front of the moldy ruins of past gingerbread houses to strengthen the looks of their textures. Grumbling as people ignore the fine line of age-old products available at the booth, he underlines the word "Traditional" on his sign twice and proceeds to ring a little Christmas bell, which promptly collapses due to its aged decrepitude. The reptilian Elder curses to himself as he reaches down to pick up the remains of the bell, only to perk up as he notices Morgane standing in front of his booth holding a huge lollipop. "Well, hello there little girl" hisses Wyvern sinisterly, seating himself back in his position at the front of the product stand and grinning. "Searching for a last minute gift for mommy and daddy? Want some Almost Dragonic Brand Aged Candy Cane Powder™ to compliment that lolly?" "Nuh uh" mutters Morgane, shaking her head vigorously and sucking on her lolly. "Watcha doin?" "Why, selling Traditional Almost Dragonic Brand Last Minute Presents™ of course." Wyvern winks. "I'm hoping these tattered old Christmas stockings will be a big hit. After all, you never know when someone might get their stocking stuffed with geld, and it could give a whole new meaning to the word 'holy.'" "Um" Morgane stops sucking on her lolly for a moment and stares. "Who's gonna buy'em if Christmas was yesterday? I gotta lolly, see?" Wyvern raises a scaly claw to respond, only to consider Morgane's point for a moment and scratch his scaly chin in contemplation. The reptilian vendor takes out a quill as Morgane waves and skips off to another part of the Carnival, turning towards his sign and scrawling: "98% off Post-Christmas Sale! Never too late to buy a last minute present for New Years!" After he's written this, the overgrown lizard grins and sits back in his seat, taking out a few tangled slinkies for the table and waiting for the profits to start rolling in. ;-)

Wyvern scurries through the Conservatory in a rush, pausing for a moment at the booth where Lorne and Scarlot sit in order to examine their sign. Scratching his scaly chin, the overgrown lizard glances left and right to make sure that the Scantavia Brothers aren't around, then grins gleefully and takes out a Quill. "Finally, an unguarded bachelor sign up area. Seemsss almost to good to be true." Lorne raises a brow upon hearing this and shifts in his chair. "Umm, actually-" "Never did get a chance to sign up in that last Carnival." The overgrown lizard scrawls his name on the sign up sheet in an illegible hand. "Though I guess it did produce some favourable results." "Listen lizard" growls Scarlot. "You-" "Don't worry, they can have me for cheap, I won't overprice things" hisses Wyvern, winking to Scarlot. "Sssay, you wouldn't happen to be one of the bidders would you? If so, I can give you a 25% off deal if you invest in some Almost Dragonic Brand Stock Options.™" "Out of the question" cries Scarlot, jumping from her seat. "And how dare you even suggest that I-" The dark elf stops as Wyvern scurries off from the booth and hurries to another part of the Carnival, slapping her forehead at the misunderstanding and grumbling curses under her breath.