Wyvern

Wyvern enters into the Cabaret Room sipping from the Decanter of Endless Booze, and waves to everyone before setting up a little stand in the corner of the chamber. Turning to the audience at hand, the lizard hisses: Being a big fan of Madlibs and seeing the success that Tzimfemme had with them previously on the Archmage Bulletin Boards, I thought I'd introduce a variation on the idea of Madlibs to the Pen. Here's how the game of Mighty Pen Madlibs works: I've chosen a segment from a random story found somewhere on the Pen, and have removed specific words from this story and replaced them with blank spots for generic words. The list of the words that need to be filled in currently are as follows: 1) A Pen Member 2) A distance 3) A place in the Pen 4) An adjective 5) A number 6) A noun 7) A verb An adjective 9) A Color 10) A plural noun 11) A material 12) A type of light 13) A part of body 14) A name for an underling 15) An animal (plural) 16) An adjective 17) A height 18) A cryptic phrase 19) A verb 20) Any phrase Your job as a participant in the game is to come up with responses to each of the terms on this list. After all of the terms have been responded to, the stories gaps will be filled in accordingly and I'll reveal the different variations of the story (along with the original version and it's blanked out version) in this thread. If you don't quite understand how it works yet, simply play along with it and write responses to the terms... you'll get how it works soon enough. ;-) A note for those confused by any of the terms: - A noun is a person, place, or thing (ex: book, cat, strand of Heather Locklear's hair, etc.) - An adjective is a term that describes something (ex: happy, beautifull, upside down and proud of it, etc.) - A verb is a term that depicts an action (ex: run, paint, destroy with a genuine "Texas Chainsaw Massacre" weapon, etc.) - "Plural" simply means more than one (so throw an 's' at the end of the word) and the rest of the terms are pretty self-explanatory. Note that "a phrase" can be pretty much any sentence. On a final note: the key to making these madlibs really funny is to come up with some far-fetched terms (like the third ones in my examples). Of course, the terms should still fit into the PG-13 range, unless we want to move this thread to the Scarlett Pen (which is an option as well). ;p Anyway, fill in the terms and have a blast!

Like Tralla and Wrenwind, I really liked the imagery in this poem Falcon, particularly the "gargoyle-esque" images that Tralla mentioned. I loved the lines "Heart of granite, wings of stone" and "Heart of crystal, wings of bone," and particularly liked the way that the materials of the two lines contrast in terms of delicacy. While I think that the poem works very well as a whole, one thing that kind of bugged me was the very last line. I feel that it's telling what's already been implied by the previous stanzas, and thus is kind of unnecessary. Very good work.

Nice poem Wren, I really like the original images you used to convey the fantasy in the first stanza and how they're contrasted with the reality in the stanza following it. The last line was also quite evocative, as it switched the tone of the stanza from slightly disturbing to genuinely dark. One thing that struck me as a bit awkward in the poem was the "Then" line, as as it is now it seems to have a neutral tone that doesn't really show a shift to darker thoughts. Perhaps if it were "But then" or altered in some other way that shows that it's going to cause a change in tone, it could be stronger. Thanks for sharing!

Wyvern gives Annael a hug and wishes her the best in her move as he whips out an Almost Dragonic Butterfly Net and begins flailing it around in the air. After numerous failed attempts at trying to catch a butterfly and accidentally getting the defective net stuck in Falcon2001's hair, the lizard abandones the contraption and resorts to using his claws. Finally catching one of the gentle butterflies in his right palm, the overgrown lizard places it in a safe section of his geld pouch (yeah right, like that actually exists) so that he'll have something to remember Annael by in her absence. Turning and noticing that Falcon has a net stuck in his hair, Wyvern offers the poet a 50% discount on an Almost Dragonic Haircut (which is priced 200% over normal haircuts, of course)... ;-p OOC: Take care Annael, we'll be looking forward to your return.

Note: this is a new poem that I wrote, "Automation," along with the finalized version of my Writer's Workshop haiku "I Automation Your middle finger thumb wrestles with my left index crushing the asset that would normally type the ‘s’ in “I’m sorry.” The monitor hums to the same tune that was whistled on winter mornings, Never Winter Nights when we sang as one. Your hand leaves but it’s moisture rests, and mists computer keys and mouse pads with perfumed sweat. The office door slams shut as my vision blurs from familiar scents while the screen radiates nothing more than a series of numbers. I E-cards through e-mails While mice click softly, moving Without e-motion.

Wyvern smiles warmly and pours out glasses of Bruteweiser Booze decorated with small purple umbrellas for everyone. I love it how Pen appreciation threads like this one seem to appear every few months without fail. They're the one type of non-creative thread that I never get tired of, as they always directly show how deep and significant an impact this community has on people's lives. Like Peredhil, I still find it somewhat surprising when people list me amongst geniouses like Yui and Tzim as I've never considered myself in the same league, but like others I've come to know my fellow writers as friends rather than idols (although I admit to being guilty of still idolizing them on occasion ;-)). It's also amazing to see how some writers have grown over the course of time they've spent on this site... There's one thing that I thought I'd note which evoked this response from me... In Falcon's first post, he mentioned how he strives to "emulate" the writers he admires. While I'm certain it was meant as a means of saying that the writers have inspired him to post things, it's important to note that each and every member here has a uniqueness that all of the members can benefit from. What it comes down to is each person expressing these unique styles and ideas to the community in a manner that people can benefit from. Regardless of what some might think of themselves at this point, every person here is special. With that, Wyvern bows and distributes hugs, noting that two writers who have really wowed him with their writing recently are Stick and Tralla...

Zariah, Sorry about not responding to this earlier... I also think that a Pen newsletter is an awesome idea, and would be happy to contribute a column to it if you'd like. I could do an "Ask Mr. Almost Dragonic" unreliable advice section or a simple "Greedy Rants" column as two potential options, though I'm cool with any kind of thing you'd like. Like Salinye, though, I'd probably prefer contributing to it once a month rather than once a week due to time restraints. Having said this, Wyvern rubs his scaly palms together greedily and sinisterly adds "overcharge for newsletter services" on his list of geld-making schemes.... P.S: Another potential newsletter title could be "The Inkwell."

"Sounds good to me!" chirps Wyvern. "Unless of course there's a fee connected to the politeness lessons... or if the call you want me to make is to a celebrity like Ja Rule." Peredhil grins and politely shakes his head as a response. It seemed that Wyvern really was serious about getting this job, though the half elf was certain in his wisdom that there had to be some alternative motive behind his wanting it. "Oh, another thing!" blurts Wyvern. "These politeness lessons would have to be a slightly abridged version of the normal course, since the night of the Annual Charity Ball is not too far off." Peredhil considers this and frowns. "How abridged, exactly...? "Welll..." hisses Wyvern "Considering that the Ball is a couple of days from now, and that I need to call and apply, shop around for a cheap waiter outfit to rent, and sort through all of the urgent tax documents that remain in my office... I would say that the most reasonable option would be to cram the entire politeness course into one two hour session." Peredhil's face goes blank. "One... two hour... session? Wyvern, I honestly don't know how much you can be taught in that small amount of-" "Awwww, don't worry about it Peredhil!" interrupts Wyvern rudely, belching a few flames before continuing. "I'm certain Elladan can handle it, he's an energetic lad!" Peredhil contemplates this silently, slightly concerned with Elladan's health should he attempt to tackle such a monumental task. "Oh, by the way..." hisses Wyv. "What incantation would you like for me to call for you?"

Wyvern dashes into the Cabaret Room in a typically belated manner and salutes both Vlad and Archaneus, wishing the two of them a happy birthday. Carefully avoiding the box of Almost Dragonic Brand Peredhil Hugs sitting on the floor in the fear of them malfunctioning and smothering the wrong victim, the overgrown lizard wanders up to Vlad and happily hands the birthday vampire a straw in the shape of an I.V tube to drink Celes Crusador's wine with. Turning to Archaneus, Wyvern grins and hands the half elf a book entitled "101 More Ways to Viciously Murder Those who Harm Plants." The reptilian Elder then wishes the two of them a very happy birthday once again, and departs whistling an out of tune version of "Sweet Sixteen..." ;-) OOC: I'm a bit late, but happy birthday Vlad and Archaneus.

Wyvern jumps out of his seat and quickly grabs a bag containing his belongings, rushing towards the exit of his office while still debating what pen member could possibly suite his needs. Slamming open his office door in an inconsiderate manner, the overgrown lizard's face brightens considerably as he's immediatly met by the familier form of Peredhil. The famous half elf politely clears his throat and chimes: "Greetings-" . "Peredhil!" interrupts Wyvern rudely, immediatly grabbing the Ancient Bard by his left arm and practically dragging him into the office "What a coincidence, I was just about to search for someone that might be able to help me out with a few things." Peredhil frowns and casts Wyvern a wary glance. "Wyvern, you know the Elder stance on your schemes..." "Well that's just the thing" hisses Wyvern gleefully, snatching the paper with the job offer that he found and pointing a scaly finger at the small, boxed-in text. "This is no scheme, I want to get a job and politely work for other people for a total of two geld for the duration of a single evening." Peredhil's eyes widen for a moment and his jaws briefly drops open before the shock passes and he politely regains his composure. So many words normally unassociated to Wyvern in the same sentence... "job," "work," "other people..." "Politely...?" echoes Peredhil, glancing at Wyvern in a mixture of curiousity and disbelief. "Yes." hisses Wyvern. "And that's the area where I might need a little help. I'm going to have to make a call on a "Ashmin Alsim" incantation and need a few manners in presenting myself to the recruiter Ziggy. You're a natural at this sort of stuff, Peredhil, you can save me here!" With that, Wyvern grins and begins rummaging through his desk for a crystal ball as Peredhil considers his request. Turning to the concerned half elf from under a pile of leftover candywrappers and accumulated paperwork, the lizard hisses: "So tell me Peredhil... is it politer to open a crystal ball conversation with 'hi, I'm interested in your money' or 'hi, that's a lovely hat and I'm interested in your money'?"

Wyvern grumbles as he flips through the pages of three different newspapers for job offers, sitting at his overflowing desk and silently contemplating Madame Quixotic's predictions. The lizard maintained the notion that some horrible mistake must have been made in the crystal ball reading as the words of the withered seer echo hauntingly in his mind. I see you finding GREAAAAAAT fortune in…… in serving your fellow man. Impossible, he'd never bow down to anyone! Speeding the pace of his newspaper search at the very thought of working as an underling, the greedy Elder frantically looks for a good company to rip off in his listings... You will also find rich wealth in… CHARITY! Absurd, the very word was foreign to him! Clenching his teeth and pulling out another set of papers from underneath his desk, the overgrown lizard angrily slams them onto his desktop and continues searching. A day soon will come, when you will find it in your best interest to donate your time, money and talents to a cause more important than you. Ridiculous, there was no greater cause than money! And besides, there was nothing more important than himself either! Letting out an agitated growl and practically tearing the scales from his forehead in frustration, the overgrown lizard's eyes suddenly fall upon a small job offer listed on the bottom right-hand corner of a page of The Chronical. The offers words seem to dance before Wyvern's eyes, enticing him to read further: Male Waiter needed for Annual Charity Ball Job consists of serving fellow men their dishes in a courteous manner. The participant will be given 2 geld for the evenings work, plus will be able to keep any tip he recieves. For more information: call the incantation code "Ashmin Alsim Nevera Baltok" at the nearest crystal ball. Ask for Ziggy. Two geld seemed like such a measly amount, yet the job fit into the prediction of Madame Quixotic perfectly. Thoughts of massive amounts of wealth cause Wyvern to rub his scaly palms in anticipation as he breaks into a sinister grin. His happiness becomes momentarily clouded, however, as he reads over the first sentence of the offer again... Serving dishes in a "courteous" manner... While Wyvern considered himself quite a charming lizard, he knew that people didn't seem to consider courteousy one of his strong points. He would need to learn a few manners first if he hoped to be accepted for this job... Rubbing his scaly chin in contemplation, Wyvern considers what pen member might be able to teach him a bit of courteousy while simultaneously paying the incantation bill for the call, since "Ashmin Alsim" incantations charged 50 mana per minute... [Note: to be continued]

Wyvern steps into the Cabaret Room upon Falcon2001's mentioning of money, briefly sniffing at the air for the crisp scent of dollar bills but disappointed to find very little fragrance. Turning towards the discussion at hand and clearing his throat, Wyvern speaks up and says: "Personally, I've been enjoying 'Initial Fantasy VII Minus I'" The members stare at Wyvern curiously and raise their brows as the lizard continues. "Basically, it's this weird game where all of the characters are miniature versions of Pen members with overinflated heads... It's the regular Square trademark, only taken a step further!" The members consider this for a moment before Falcon asks: "So... who are the main characters?" "Well..." hisses Wyvern "The initial starting party is the Seven, which is comprised of the Big Pointy One, Silver, and Roxxia as the principal characters out on a mission to save their one lost member, Mr. Bunny. In their journey, they come across numerous other characters that aid them on their mission..." "What are the weapons and combat system like...?" asks Damon curiously. "For weapons, they use large metallic objects carved into the initials of their first name, hence the title." responds Wyvern "But the combat system is the best one ever. Basically, the characters have keyboards and type exactly how they try to attack the monster in the most descriptive manner possible! It's genious!" With that, Wyvern grins and exits the Hall, allowing others to draw their own conclusions about how the rest of the functionings of the game work while muttering things under his breath about Gyr the chocobo ranger and the optional Balladore rose garden side quest...

After DarkPainInside has ended his speech on anarchism and numerous Pen members have offered their comments and thoughts on the issue, Wyvern decides to take the stage for his own piece of political propaganda. Tapping the microphone and causing it to screech loudly in the process, the overgrown lizard apologizes to the audience before clearing his throat of a few ashes and hissing: "Living in a monetary system like ours is pointless. We thrive off of green anger and hate, which make us constantly stressed and upset. But it doesn't have to be this way. We can escape. There is an answer, and it's simple: 'Wyvern's 10 year total interest no downpayment double negation 5% tax break minus additional fees scam'... errr... 'plan!' Abandone your previous set of limitations and hierarchies and try these new ones on for size! Don't become a slave to your finances, grasp them with a firm system of control. After all, if you begin to feel frustrated with them, all you need to do is give them away! And with this new payment plan, you'll be able to give all your money to Wyvern at no additional charge." The crowd of listeners stares at Wyvern in silent confusion... A light cough is heard from a distant hall. "Why bother with money? Does it really matter what kind of car you own or where you live? Don't you think that I could benefit more from them?" Further silence as people in the audience begin shaking their heads and filtering out of the room... "Wait!" cries Wyvern in dismay "I haven't even provided the links to all the evil genious webpages yet!" ;-)

Wyvern rushes into the Cabaret Room in a slightly belated manner and wishes Blondemoon his very best, dropping off a chocolate AoA snowman by the birthday girl's side as he races over to Zariah's table of goodie bags. Patiently waiting until he's certain that a minimum number of people are watching him, the greedy lizard pockets as many of the bags as he can and stuffs them into his coat. Unfortunatly, Wyvern doesn't realize that the bags are full of "bouncy bouncy bouncy balls," and he sits down only to suddenly get skyrocketed into the air... ;-) OOC: Happy birthday Blondemoon! Sorry that this is a bit late...

Wyvern strolls into the Courtyard of Roses wearing an unwashed tunic and smelling like a mixture of cuban cigares and dead seabass. Sighing to himself and mumbling various things about mafia don negotiations under his breath, the reptilian Elder takes a long swig from the Decanter of Endless Booze and lets out an enormous belch of flames. The jet of fire that exits Wyvern's mouth seems to sparkle in a warm and comforting light as it's sent into the sky, and brings a tear to the overgrown lizard's eye (probably due to his getting heartburn). Wiping off the corners of his mouth with the sleeve of his tunic in a gentle manner and elegently picking his nose due to a delicate gnat getting caught in his left nostril, the overgrown lizard proceeds to warmly scratch the area underneath his scaly armpits as he glances around at all the beautiful sights to behold in the Courtyard. Ignoring the number of roses and sparkling fountain of the garden, Wyvern turns his attention towards a set of footprints embedded in the gravel near his feet. Crouching on his knees and covering his pant legs with a charming layer of coffee-stain brown in the process, the greedy lizard grins in delight as he notices that the way that the dirt is shaped will surely suffocate any rude and unwelcome gophers. Sniffing at the spot where the footprints rest, Wyvern lets out a sigh of joy as he recognizes the familiar scent of 100 dollar shoes. One of the finest scents on the planet: that of wealth... Lifting himself to his feet and attempting to brush the dirt off of his pants, the overgrown lizard ends up spreading it across his tunic in a fanciful manner, and proudly displays his new collage of colors to a group of amused spectators. Turning towards the entrance of the Courtyard, the reptilian Elder briefly frowns as he notices Melba walking into the Courtyard. The lizard's expression brightens considerably, however, as he watches the Almost Secretary of Initiates trip over a stiff gopher head protruding from the ground and fall headfirst into a pile of brambles and weeds that had been cleaned out from the walls. The screams of Melba's suffering ring like sweet music to his ears... Prancing towards Ropku happily and trampling over numerous beautiful roses in the process, the lizard salutes the moogle and snatches his photo album with one dirt-covered claw, smudgening the pages in a decorative manner as he rapidly flips through them. Noticing numerous wonderful photos, the lizard's face lights up with joy... even the picture of him getting hit in the face with a frying pan by Celes Crusador gave him a tingle of happiness. Grinning, Wyvern thanks Ropku kindly and hands back the album, regretting that he didn't get a picture of Salinye when he caught her nekkid... Turning towards Balladore and greeting his old friend happily, the overgrown lizard's attention immediatly turns towards the most beautiful thing of all... the golden rose! It sparkled at Wyvern in an intriguing manner, as if wishing to say "I'm worth the 5694389345234234 geld you need to pay off the rest of your debt." Rubbing his scaley chin in contemplation, the greedy reptile grabs a spoon from a refreshment table and begins digging a beautifully shaped hole in the dirt in the hopes of eventually forming a tunnel towards the rose... OOC: Great posts, everyone! I personally like Stick's the best so far...

Jagon's wounded body collapses to the ground with a thud that echoes hollowly throughout the otherwise eerily silent chamber. The dim halo floating above the seraphim's head of silver hair vanishes while his six wings suddenly begin to shed all of their feathers. "Father! Please... forgive me!" Gyrfalcon stares down at Jagon as these last words are muttered, feeling a hint of sorrow for the angelic abomination as he passes away. Watching him curiously, half elven hero notices his lips opening to speak some final sentence... yet no sound exits as the angelic entity breaths it's last. Gyrfalcon has very little time to consider the lost sentence, however, as his thoughts turn to a more important issue at hand... his companions.

Alrighty, the most recent plot update is as follows: The snakes are now gone and people's personalities are restored, but now there are storms in the sky of the ballroom (we could have water slides! weeee!) and some random minotaur philosopher has entered as well (expect plenty of clumsy misquotes). Unfortunatly, Wyvern seems to have also been repelled from the ball due to the nature of the bone flute. Ah well... I'm sure he'll find his way back eventually, or perhaps someone could rescue him. Let's just hope he slithers to a snake den and not a life insurance agency office... ;p

Rushing towards his cart of scientific beakers in the far corner of the room, Wyvern frantically toys with the cylinder-shaped apparatus he's holding while carefully avoiding the snakes that litter the ground. Arriving at the beakers, the overgrown lizard sadly mutters something about not being able to abuse more of Yui's talents as he grabs two random beakers and begins rapidly combining their contents. Obtaining a bubbling green formula from the mixture, he tosses in an orangutan hair with a small garden snake from the floor before turning towards Snake. "I have it DL_Snake!" exclaims Wyvern as he holds the formula in the air and examines it contently. "This should answer all of our problems!" With that, Wyvern tosses the formula into the air and lets it's contents rain over the crowd, expecting it to result in people switching back to their normal bodies. Instead, it creates large storm clouds within the ballroom that begin to rumble with thunder, blocking out the starlit ceiling created by Vigil's starseed with their darkness... DL_Snake looks up at the clouds, then back at Wyvern. "WYVERN!" "I'm sorry!" hisses the reptilian Elder, wasting no time and tossing together another mixture, this one made of rabid pigs snot and deep sea urchine sweat. "That formula didn't work, but hopefully this one will do the trick!" Adding a touch of pepper to the formula and sprinkling it's contents in a circle around himself and DL_Snake, Wyvern raises a brow as several gases are emitted into the air and time gradually slows down. Shaking a fist at Wyvern in slow motion, Snake slowly cries: "W.....Y.....V.....E....R.....N.....!.....!......!" Wyvern apologizes in slow motion, then slowly combines two more formulas, these ones labeled "sylph eyelashes" and "minotaur saliva." The moment the overgrown lizard combines the two substances, the beaker explodes and time speeds back up again. At the same exact moment, a minotaur dressed in a Julias Ceasar outfit hobbles in through the front doors of the ballroom and begins muttering verses from "Hamlet." While all this happens, it begins to rain from the clouds above. "WYVERN!!!!!!" exclaims DL_Snake "You're only making things worse!!!" "Yeah, so what else is new??!!!" cries back Wyvern over an enormous rumble of thunder. Fortunatly, at that very moment, the Racouollette that had found the bone flute previously begins to play it to the tune of "My Fire Elementist Left Me for a Salamander." Thanks to the incredibly out of tune noises the Racouollette produces, the melodies of the flute have the opposite effect that they once had, and actually begin repelling the snakes. As numerous serpents begin slithering away from the ballroom as fast as they can, the personalities of the pen members of the ball are left behind and proceed to enter back into their former shells... As the pen members regain their personalities and shift back into consciousness, they begin to notice the dark storms in the sky and the minotaur philosopher reciting quotes from various plays... Meanwhile, Wyvern slithers away with the rest of the snakes, the serpant element of his unconscious mind once again triggered by the bone flute...

Canid, Personally, I think that this is a superb poem... it's perhaps one of my favorite of your poems to date. I love the poem because it deals with a serious, heartfelt issue in an original and intriguing manner. Your choices of sight-related imagery, in particular, are truly excellent in my opinion. You could have simply mentioned an "eye" in the poem, but instead chose to personalize the dilemma with phrases such as "shrinking view" and (my personal favorite line) "oblivion of the right half of my perception." The poem is also written in a manner that allows the reader to relate to it personally, and the flow of the poem is completely smooth and unforced. It's no surprise that the theme of the poem was taken from troubling, personal emotions... While I enjoyed "Potatoes" as much as the next member and found it a fun and well written work, I'm personally going to have to argue that this poem exceeds it in every regard. Excellent work!

Much to Yatsuna's shock and horror, the large scaly creature with the proud voice sitting behind the desk jumps out of his seat just as she begins to walk out of the door. Rushing up towards the nervous applicant and grabbing her by the arm before she can escape, Wyvern clears his throat of a few ashes and then sinisterly hisses: "Jusssst a moment, Yatsuna. You mentioned you wanted to become a part of my band, yet which band are you refering to exactly?" Yatsuna raises a brow and reluctantly responds: "Wh-what do you mean?" "Well..." continues Wyvern. "I've tried forming a few bands, all of which failed due to either lack of funds or group quarrels. There was the Racouollettes, the Pen Elder dwarf barbershop quartet, the choir of district attornies chanting 'sue, sue sue' (although that band ended up being successful, unfortunatly)..." Yatsuna stutters in a worried manner and says: "What I meant was-" "Of course, I could always form a new band and mark you as the first member." interrupts Wyvern rudely. "You realize, however, that if you were to join you'd need to agree to use Almost Dragonic brand instruments, which can prove to be fatal to the ear when played out of key..." "I-" starts Yatsuna. "You'd also need to agree to a few technical terms that I have written in this contract..." hisses Wyvern as he pulls out an incredibly long parchment that practically covers the entire office floor as it's unraveled. "Nothing serious, just a few terms of agreement." Yatsuna's eyes widen and her mouth drops open as she views the length of the parchment... Growing more nervous by the minute, the applicant glances down and notices one of the random terms of agreement that have been written across it's length at her feet. It reads: "Term of Agreement #45673829 - you will feed Wyvern grapes whenever he snaps his finger and says the word 'grapes,' and will fan him regularly with a large peacock feather." "Mr. Wyvern..." manages Yatsuna shakily. "What I meant was that I wanted to join this band of writers, The Pen is Mightier than the Sword..." Wyvern considers this for a moment, then sighs and nods, slowly rolling back up the "Terms of Agreement" parchment while stamping Yatsuna's application ACCEPTED. ;-) OOC: An ACCEPTED application Yatsuna, welcome to the Mighty Pen! Like Annael, I look forward to seeing more of your roleplaying and writing, as well as participating in threads with you. Once again, welcome!

I really enjoyed your two most recent freewrites, Yui-chan. Here are some thoughts on the two of them: #13 Valuable Fear - I love the twist ending of this story, especially the play on words with the "man" in "boogey man." I also thought that the way that you subtly hinted at the family being inhuman was very well done throughout, as the son's name being "Gefros Zhe Baringod," the father's "growling" from the bottom of the stairs, and the way the boogey man uses "needles and shots" all alluded to it. I picked up a lot of these references reading over it a second time, and suggest that everyone read the story more than once for this reason. #14 Arrow - I think the structure of this poem is brilliant, as the way the stanzas are presented seem to ressemble an arrow's trajectory, with the trajectory being cut short every second stanza (each of which ends with a period). This is particularly seen in the last line of the poem, where "ripe with exquisite death" seems accentuated by the notion that the arrow's path has been cut short and that it's become embedded in something. It reminds me of William Carlos Williams' "The Red Wheelbarrel" in a very good way.

Dressed in jungle camoflauge gear and under the impression that it will somehow hide him in his position on a pole near the ceiling of the bar, Wyvern slowly adjusts the headphones over his scaly ears and lowers the stealth microphone cord he carries down until it rests directly above Jarom's head. A recorded version of Brute's history... Alcoholics Anonymous would pay billions for this! OOC: Can't wait until this story is continued...

Definitely an interesting piece, Appy. The conflict present in it is intriguing... though the resolution left me somewhat confused. The phrase "she knew" at the end seems kinda unecessary to me, since it doesn't give us any insight into her thoughts or emotions... It would be nice if we got some sense of how the brothers final reaction affects her. I really like the manner in which this piece is written, as it's original and certainly grabs the readers attention. Though you noted that you had a clear idea of the story when you woke up, I'm with Alaeha in that I'd love to see this get expanded upon with back story! I'm particularly intrigued in learning more about the reference of how "mother made sure..." By the way, I really liked when the brother responsed "Maybe I'm not that kind of clown, sister," as well as the original details you used such as the manner in which the spoon is turned around the coffee cup. Interesting stuff.

Wyvern slowly tip-toes into the Cabaret Room while carefully hiding something behind his back, whistling innocently as he strolls up to the figure of Ayshela and gently pokes her on the shoulder. Turning towards the reptilian Elder, the Troubador stutters uneasily and tries to remember one of the "100 Excuses to Escape Wyvern" that she had learned from the rest of the membership to avoid getting involved in the overgrown lizard's schemes. Seeing her uneasiness, however, Wyvern immediatly reveals the card that he has for her from behind his back and exclaims: "Happy birthday, Ayshela! I wrote this card out by hand, and hope you like it." Ayshela blushes and glances at the card curiously, unable to read most of the overgrown lizard's nearly illegible hand-writing but noticing the words "I'm sorry" and several doodles of snakes with crosses over them. Attached to the card are two certificates for Almost Dragonic Brand Serpent-Be-Gone™. Bowing to Ayshela, the overgrown lizard winks and exits as several Pen members boo and hiss at the cheapness of his snake repellent... ;-) OOC: On a more serious note, I wish you a very happy birthday Ayshela! Thank you for the time and effort you've devoted to the Pen, sharing your awesome writing with us, and simply being a very friendly and likeable person in general.

Wyvern/Yui's teeth chatter as he dodges a particularly energetic rattle snake and almost trips over a lazy boa constrictor, brushing off a viper clinging to his dark cloak and mumbling numerous curses under his breath as he does so. Glancing left and right distraughtly and finally coming to terms with his situation, he sighs only to suddenly brighten up as he notices Orlan approaching. Finally, a person that he could count on for a bit of calm and reason in this chaos... Walking towards Orlan as he clumsily approaches, Wyvern/Yui is shocked as the Sexy Sexy Elder practically stumbles headfirst into a makeshift nest of cobras resting on the Ballroom floor. "Orlan!" exclaims Wyvern/Yui, about to kick off the conversation with some observations on how the snakes were a nice touch to Orlan's appearence but suddenly realizing that he didn't want to give the sexy Elder any ideas about the huntress. Clearing his throat and speaking in a softer, mysterious tone, he says: "Orlan, it is excellent to see you here amongst this mass of confusion. Yes... errrr... there's a cobra hanging from your ear that you might consider attending to." Upon hearing this, Gwaihir/Orlan screams and frantically grabs the snake from his ear, tossing it over his shoulder. The cobra flies through the air and ends up landing directly in the crystal goblet that Rocoss' personality inhabits. Just when the eldest of the seven thought it couldn't get any worse... Turning towards Wyvern/Yui, Gwaihir/Orlan mutters: "Great to see you too Yui, I wanted to ask you... who am I at the moment, exactly?" Upon uttering this question, a large flock of teenage girls wearing "I Love Orlan" T-shirts suddenly barge into the Ballroom and flock towards Orlan, pointing and shouting: "You're my boyfriend!" "No, you're my boyfriend!" "You've been my lover for like, six years!" Wyvern/Yui raises a brow in confusion as the girls take out a large sack and stuff Gwaihir/Orlan inside of it, giggling intently as they rush off to the shadowy corner of the Ball near where the chemical cart rests to split him evenly amongst themselves. Sighing and whining to himself about how he didn't get a body capable of attracting legions of amorous female fans, Wyvern/Yui twirls his blond hair and considers his options... Walking through a shadowed area of the hall as he contemplates his current abilities, Wyvern/Yui accidentally steps into a shadow rift and suddenly finds himself wandering through empty space, which causes him to become even more confused. Glancing left and right, the lizard/huntress takes the nearest exit only to find himself suddenly next to Alzorath's shadowy form at the bar. Hmmm... this ability could certainly come in handy. Wyvern/Yui grins and rubs his delicate palms together as he begins planning out an intricate shadow plane touring scheme. Meanwhile, one of the Racouolettes happens to stumble across Falcon's discarded bone flute...