Wyvern

Jagon grits his teeth and grimaces, shaking his head and tearing his eyes away from Kaleyra's gaze. The depths of her eyes seemed so caring, so confident... No, surely a psionic spell... surely! The seraphim's breaths come out in uneven gasps as he turns towards the sound of Gyrfalcon's voice, momentarily dumbfounded by his own inability to strike. Overcome by a mortal's will...? Impossible. "... You have been corrupted by this realm, seraphim. It's time we helped you regain yourself." "Corrupted?!" exclaims Jagon in a fury. "You, you are corrupt! Your kind is a wretched cesspool of sin! Petty mortals, infidels!" The heros cringe as Jagon's voice echoes loudly throughout the chambers, his three eyes flaring brightly in a rage brought about by desperation and rapidly deteriorating hopes. "BLASPHEMERS!!!" Jagon's voice comes out as a bloodcurdling scream, cracking and hoarse yet deafening in it's greatness. Abandoning any faint notion of sanity that remains in him and letting out a broken battle cry, the seraphim raises Gaspoliner and jabs it into the floor of the cavern with all of his might. The very foundation of the room quakes violently and flares up with light, stalactites falling from the ceiling and large rocks caving in. Kaleyra and Myth are too busy clinging to Timothy to even notice the Pool of Eternal Reflection as it becomes utterly buried in an enormous avalanche of cascading boulders... Gyrfalcon curses and ducks, barely maintaining balance and narrowly dodging a number of sharp stalactites. Before the enormous tremor has even ended, the half-even hero is shocked to be suddenly met head on by Jagon. The seraphim appears in front of him like a flash of light, twirling Gaspoliner into an arch of brightness and power so great that even the most legendary of heroes would have difficulty blocking it... Yet, miraculously, Gyrfalcon manages to effortlessly curve his katana in a manner that perfectly parries the blow.

Wyvern, or rather Wyvern's personality and collected thoughts, awake in a daze as he finds himself standing upright, suddenly free of all the inconvenient wires that had previously trapped him. Relieved that there are no longer any large amplifiers raining down on him from the skies above, he places a hand on his head as he tries to recollect his blurry thoughts... Suddenly noticing that his lab uniform seems to have transformed into a comfortable dark cloak, it takes Wyv a few moments before he realizes that he can't feel his horns (and this refers not only to the two resting on his head)... Stuttering, he briefly touches his head of blond hair with his right hand and his eyes suddenly widen. Staring at the chaos on the dancefloor and glancing once again at his cloak, he murmers: "I must be dreaming... I could never afford a cloak like this." Wyvern jumps and gasps at the sound of "his" own voice. Smooth, melodic and distinctly feminine... it was YUI's voice. Frantically glancing left and right in panic and confusion, the greed element of Wyvern's personality momentarily kicks in as he quickly removes the earings off of his ears and looks them over thoroughly. Labeling each of them with a price, he pockets them in a cloak pocket before complete and utter panic sets in. Running up to the figure of what appears to be Peredhil, Wyvern/Yui proceeds to rapidly shake the half-elf by his shoulders and exclaims in a frantic voice uncharacteristic of Yui: "Big P, ya gotta help me! This is even worse than that infamous Legionnaire challenge sheep flock incident! Listen, I admit to spiking the punch with a coupla spare chemicals from the rack, but I never thought it'd amount to this! Help!!! I'm too young to not have any scales!!!" The head of Peredhil stares sharply at Wyvern/Yui, the polite half-elf's personality switched with that of an aggravated spitting cobra. The cobra/Peredhil opens it's mouth and politely hisses, rapidly spitting a half-elven loogie directly towards Wyv/Yui's face. Fortunatly, a shadow rift created by the silouhette of an approaching member protectively opens in front of Wyv/Yui's face at that very moment, and the spit flies through the shadows... eventually landing in Solid Snake's drink. Wyvern/Yui then proceeds to rush away from the scene, desperatly searching for some form of sanity and a way out of this mess while being careful not to harm the delicate body. After all, Yui-chan would be getting it back eventually, and Wyv knew that most folks weren't quite as accustomed to being involved in major disasters as he was... ;p

Jagon flaps his gigantic wings for a moment, brushing off the feathers that had come loose from his previous battle as he turns to face the direction of the corridor leading into the chamber. Gazing calmly down the hallway and patiently waiting as the footsteps grow louder and louder, the seraphim's confidence and calmness momentarily waver as he watches the form of Timothy stride into the chamber. A mortal human, tattered and bleeding, hobbling from exhaustian yet decidedly willing to fight given the position of his hand on his scabbard. Jagon knew foolishness, and as much as he feared to admit it, it simply didn't apply to this case. What the seraphim saw instead was courage, mingled with a hint of insanity and a definitive bond between allies. The notion of the bond strikes at Jagon deeply, like an icey dagger of fear, a devastating contradiction to his hypothesis about humanity... Jagon frowns as he stares towards the dumbfounded Timothy, thoroughly uncomfortable at his inability to look into both of the human's eyes. The seraphim is about to speak up in a regal tone when suddenly, Timothy lets out a mirthless gale of laughter. For a brief period, it is Jagon who becomes the dumbfounded one. After a moment of disbelief and perhaps even fear, Jagon's shock is replaced with an air of anger mingled with uncertainty. The seraphim spreads his wings broadly and holds Gaspoliner in the air as he majestically exclaims: "Dare you laugh upon viewing my countenence, mortal? Are you aware that he who you gaze upon is an emissary of the highest Heavens?!" Timothy simply shakes his head at this comment and begins laughing even harder, tears beginning to stream down his bruised cheeks. Jagon clenches his teeth, tightening his grip on his blade. "Stop laughing." Timothy ignores Jagon's demands as his laughter grows louder, reaching the ears of his allies littered about the floor of the chamber. To Gyrfalcon, Kaleyra, and Myth the laughter is more than the voice of a friend, more than a moment of insanity... it rings in a prophetic tone, as if Timothy were meant to be at their side all along. Yes, as if he were destined to be there with them. "S-Stop laughing!" exclaims Jagon in disbelief, his will and commands normally enough to stop even the most powerful of denizens. "Cease immediatly, or feel the righteous power of my blade!" In their positions on the ground, the three fallen heroes feel a sudden surge of vitality in the knowledge of their weary companion's arrival and their duty to aid him in battle. More than strength... a revitalization of confidence, vigor... Hope. Jagon lets out a deafening battlecry as he charges towards Timothy in rage, positioning Gaspoliner in a deadly striking position...

Upon hearing the melodies of Falcon's bone flute, Wyvern immediatly stops searching for remaining cake pieces underneath the rug and perks his head up in a curious manner. As the tones of the flute continue to echo throughout the ballroom, the overgrown lizard's pupils slowly dilute and he begins swaying back and forth in a rhythmic manner. The reptilian Elder collapses back to the ground as the flute's sounds pierce deeper and deeper into the unconscious part of his almost dragonic mind, and he eventually begins fluidly slivering across the ground towards the stage. From several different entrances, numerous snakes of various shapes and sizes begin slivering into the ballroom, enticed by the sounds of the mystical flute. Rattlesnakes enter by means of a small opening under the carpet, cobras slide in through cracks in the corners of the walls, boa constrictors drop in through the open windows, and life insurance salesmen enter through the front door. Those who have yet to be hypnotized by the flute stare upwards in fascination as a tough-looking man in camoflauge gear suddenly drops in from the ceiling by means of a stealth bungie-cord. Adjusting the bandana on his head and pulling out a walkie-talkie while simultaneously looking over a crumpled map, the stranger gruffly whispers: "Octacon, this is Solid Snake... I've broken in by means of the roof, but this sure doesn't look like a secret underwater headquarters for nuclear tank projects set to destroy the world." Recieving only static on the other end of the walkie-talkie, Solid Snake pauses for a moment then shrugs and proceeds to help himself to some fruit punch at the refreshments table... As hundreds of snakes begin sliding onto the stage and surrounding Falcon and Tzimfemme in a chicken wishbone formation, Wyvern's progress towards the rest of the serpents is interrupted as he's caught in a tangled mess of wires found near the stage. The overgrown lizard hisses loudly as he tries to find his way out of the jumbled maze, and considers biting through any obstacles that obstruct his path...

I agree with Kalypso that you do an excellent job of portraying the inner conflict of Lian throughout this piece, Elwen. I think that she's characterized with ambivalent emotions that render her thoughts realistic, and it makes for a very intriguing read. I can't wait to see how this story developes, and am particularly interested in learning more about the relationships between the various characters. The one thing I think you could do to improve the piece a bit is to add more detail. While Lian's thoughts and emotions are very interesting and well put together, original details and description can really draw the reader further into the piece. Sensory description, such as what Lian see's, smells, feels, etc. could really add to the story in my opinion. Good stuff!

Wyvern continues happily kissing the floor of the ballroom out of joy of his survival, savoring the taste of every fancy shoe that had tread over the area as he celebrates his ability to breath. The overgrown lizard's moment of happiness is abruptly shattered, however, as the looming shadow of Wrenwind slowly makes it's way over his crawling form. Glancing upward from his position on the ground and noticing Wrenwind glaring at him angrily, Wyvern gulps and meekly hisses: "Ahah... hah. Well, at least I don't think we'll have any trouble winning the next dance contest... uhh... aviation contest... I mean, errr." "The next time I catch you so much as trying to lightly lift my dress" growls Wrenwind, cracking her knuckles as her eyes magically flame in colors of fury "I will see to it that you'll go bankrupt while being buried!" Wyvern frantically crawls away as Wrenwind aims a finger at his cart of scientific beakers and casts a spell that causes it to suddenly vanish from it's dangerous position near the refreshment table. Grinning to herself and brushing her hands off as she watches the cart reappear in a shadowy corner of the Ball (which happens to be near Yui Temae), she turns towards Wyvern only to find that the overgrown lizard has scurried away. ----- Enticed by the familiar smell of dwarven ale coming from the failed tail-paralysis formula Wyvern had previously concocted, the Elder Dwarves of the Mighty Pen steadily march towards the front entrance of the Ball and pass by the unconscious forms of the bouncers. Entering into the Ball in a single file line, the dwarves grin and jovially greet all of those present. Bravery enters the ballroom wearing a bizarre yet elegent comination of a fine elven tunic and newly-ironed dwarven mining overalls. Laughing and bravely engaging in mini-dances with numerous members as he passes them, the dwarf immediatly heads towards Ayshela to openly thank her for the event. Greedy walks into the hall next sporting the corniest dwarven get-up imaginable: baggy "Saturday Night Fever"-type jeans that slightly ressemble golfing pants, a white T-shirt that plainly reads "I couldn't afford a tux," and orange sunglasses in the shape of dollar signs. Glancing around the room in search of excitement, the miniature lizard notices Salinye's expensive-looking gown and quickly gets to scheming... Silly the Elder dwarf/resident intelligent orangutan is next to enter the Ball, and shows off his costume proudly. The orangutan is dressed completely in white cardboard signs, on which there have been drawn pictures of parts of an elegent tuxedo. Adjusting the mini-sign that had been cut into a shape of a tie that rested on his neck, the dwarf quickly heads towards the refreshments counter in the hopes of finding banana bread. Shiny energetically twirls into the ballroom after Silly, her small, shiny, silver gown with gold sparklies illuminating as she does so. Adjusting her glow-in-the-dark earings and making sure that the twinkling tiara resting on her green hair is firmly in place, the Elder Dwarf goes into a trance as she gazes at the shiny stars on the ceiling created by Vigil StarGazer's star seed. Sexy struts into the Ball next in a typically sexy (though dwarven) manner, wearing a 60s "Austen Powers"-type attire and sporting several gold chains around his neck. Reaching into the depths of the large afro that rests on his head, the dwarf pulls out a small black comb from the hairset and twirls it around in his hand. Winking towards Rune, who happened to be a babe that was just his size, the Dwarf suddenly catches sight of Tzimfemme's chocolate platter and decides that it wouldn't be right to try out pick-up lines on an empty stomach. Though not present as an individual source, Shady partakes in the Ball as well, dressed in only the finest of shadow puppets and elegently dancing with each Pen members shadow in turn. Her form fades in and out with the dancing lights of the Ball as she attempts to contact the Ancient Pen Dwarves through a rift in the shadows... ----- While the dwarves enter into the ballroom and go about their seperate affairs, Wyvern continues crawling over the ground, thoroughly enjoying himself. The greedy lizard had managed to pick up two geld pieces that people had dropped as well as a piece of an appetizer that had only been stepped on once in his skirmish of the floor. Sniffing at a delicious scent, the reptilian Elder suddenly notices the cake that Gwaihir had accidentally pushed off of a table and licks his lips... Jack pot!

Wyvern's jaw drops open, his eyes widening into the sizes of small serving trays as he watches the purple bubble grow larger and larger on Wrenwind's face... Still recovering from the shock of actually being asked to dance, not to mention the shock of being mistaken for a "capable dance partner," the lizard stutters and glances left and right at the watching crowd before managing to meekly murmer: "Is that a giant purple bubble on your face, or are you just happy to see me?" Wrenwind glares at Wyvern angrily as she's pushed further towards the dancefloor, and frantically exclaims: "Shut up and help me out here you overgrown lizard!!!" Wyvern trembles as the purple bubble begins exceeding the size of Wrenwind's head, and winces as she actually begins to float into the air carried by the helium contained in the bubble balloon. The reptilian Elder curses to himself frantically and finally decides to act as Wrenwind lets out a shriek, running towards her levitating form as fast as he can. The lizard jumps onto a table and propels himself upward by means of a chair, grabbing onto the bottom of Wrenwind's flowing dress as she continues to ascend towards the ceiling of the room. Unfortunatly, rather then pulling her down by his weight, the lizard ends up floating along with her due to the enormous size that the bubble now has. As Wrenwind continues to ascend higher above the crowd, she angrily shouts to Wyvern: "Damn it we need to do something! Ow, stop pulling on my dress like that!" Wyvern whimpers, clinging onto the bottom of Wrenwind's gown for dear life as he notices the growing distance between them and the dancefloor below. Turning his head upward to Wrenwind in the hopes of responding that he has no choice, the lizard accidentally glances underneath her gown due to his position and is overcome by a bloody nose. The blood from the lizard's nose rains down upon the dancers below just as the Prince song "Purple Rain" begins playing. Briefly glancing down towards Wyvern and noticing his peeping, Wrenwind lets out another shriek and proceeds to commence bashing Wyvern's face with her right foot in the hopes of keeping his head down. Wyvern grips the bottom of her gown tightly, his hold slowly weakening... Neither Wrenwind nor Wyvern notices the sharp chandelier that the bubble is rapidly approaching...

Loki Wyrd sighs and nervously fidgets in his applicant easychair, anxious for the Elder of Initiates' arrival and tired from an extensive period of waiting. Grumbling to himself and briefly checking the time on an old grandfather clock that rested in the corner of the office, the applicant raises a brow as he notices how late it is. His observation is interrupted, however, as the sounds of a strange singing suddenly enters his ears: "Hi ho Hi ho Wyv's always short on dough And while he's out, we come about Hi ho Hi ho hi ho hi ho..." Loki Wyrd stares in disbelief as a line of Elder Recruitment Dwarves energetically marches into the Office, each of the dwarves briefly bowing to the applicant before they surround his most recent application poem and begin chatting in a group hustle. "I can't say I approve of this one..." starts Greedy, rubbing his scaly chin in a concerned manner. "He claims that money is superficial, and you know my opinions on money!" "I strongly disagree." interrupts Bravery, snatching the application from the mini-lizard. "I think that the narrator is brave in airing his thoughts on the corruption of television and the media." "Hmmmm..." murmers Shiny, looking over the poem several times. "Not too many shiny images in this... lotsa dark ones actually..." Silly interjects by catching the attention of the other dwarves with a foot stomp and holding up a sign that reads "I liked it, since I could relate to the use of scrawling things on walls to communitcate!" Sexy comments next by looking over the poem and murmering "Well, he does mention that he's special and a thing of beauty. Always a plus in my book." Finally, the shadow of Loki Wyrd slowly shifts shapes and transforms into Shady the Elder Dwarf, who whispers: "These jumbled thoughts, emotions spent... formed together, to voice and vent... Show hatefull medias, lacking mirth... this applicant, has shown his worth." With that, the Elder dwarves nod to one another and stamp Loki Wyrd's second application ACCEPTED. ;-) OOC: An ACCEPTED re-application Loki Wyrd... Welcome to the Mighty Pen! I look forward to participating in community projects with you and reading over more of your writing, and hope you find us a warm and acceptant community.

This piece was a dramatic and entertaining read, dragonqueen. I particularly liked how you paced certain moments of the story, such as the scene where Sara and Mark race towards the cliffside of Traisi beach. You could really feel the frantic emotions that were running through their minds. Also, the way that Sara comes to an epiphany of how she's been a bad mother over the years was well done, as it added meaning and drama to Kyra's committing suicide. The build up of the conflict was also well done, as Sara and Mark's desire for Kyra to come home started off small and was built up as the story progressed. One potential thing you may want to improve in this piece is the specific desires of Kyra's parents. I was under the impression that they wanted to save Kyra at all costs for the majority of the story, yet near the end they seem to come to an acceptance of her jumping as they don't try to physically stop her (even hugging her before she goes). There were also certain scenes that were a bit overdramatic, such as the scene where Sara decides she wants a final photograph of her daughter, and these detracted from the overall tension of the piece. Lastly, you might want to add a touch of ambivalence to the emotions of Kyra, as as it stands the reader may have a difficult time sympathizing with her due to her arrogant attitude. Overall, this was an entertaining story.

Wyvern quickly strides into the Cabaret Room wearing an asylum warden uniform and pushing along a rack full of white vests. Turning towards Quinton and the others that have gathered, the overgrown lizard exclaims: "Now now boys and girls, there's no need to fight... after all, there are enough straight jackets to go around for everybody! Only 200 geld per jacket, plus tax." With that, the reptilian Elder displays the many different varieties of straightjackets there are to choose from, taking particular pride in the Angels of Apocalypse Brand jacket which comes complete with a high-quality drool bib and pockets designed specifically for holding a variety of chocolate bars... ;-p OOC: Welcome to the Mighty Pen, Quinton McTish.

"You..." continues Jagon, his voice now slightly less majestic and trailing off due to his being lost in the clutter of thoughts brought about by Kaleyra's psionics. Both Gyrfalcon and Myth slash at the seraphim once again from different angles, creating notable dents in his armor and drawing a long line of blood across his left arm. Gyrfalcon grimaces and aims his katana at Jagon's chest, rapidly moving in for what he hopes to be the final blow. "You insolent fools." The third eye on Jagon's forehead suddenly flashes in a deep silver light, causing Kaleyra's continual psionic attacks to abruptly twist and deflect back at her. The avian's eyes momentarily flash in a similar hue of silver before she screams and clutches her head in pain, collapsing to the rocky ground of the cavern. Gyrfalcon's seemingly flawless chest blow is suddenly blocked as Jagon's free arm moves with a supernatural speed and calmness, his hand catching the katana's blade in midswing without the slightest hesitation. Pushing the half elven hero back almost playfully and raising Gaspoliner in the sky, the seraphim swiftly moves forward and arcs the blade so that it slashes down the length of Gyrfalcon's chest in an unpredictable manner. Gyrfalcon cries out in pain and clutches at the glowing wound caused by the Sword of Faith, having no time to recover as Jagon swiftly elbows him in the face and sends him sprawling on the floor. Myth curses as Jagon turns in enough time to parry her dagger blow, backing away defensively. Swiftly moving towards the assassin, the seraphim grabs her by her left arm and proceeds to stare directly into her scarred face. His three eyes begin glowing simultaneously as a powerful holy magic begins flooding through Myth's body, causing the souls of those that she had previously murdered to sing an unbearable choir in her mind. The cacophony of noise is so great that Myth grits her teeth and clutches her head in pain, falling to her knees as she devotes her energy to fighting the voices. Jagon smiles to himself calmly as he gazes at the three fallen heroes now laying on the ground, pausing for a moment before adamantly stating: "My destiny is clear. As I told you all, your efforts are worthless. Never the less, I admire your bravery, and will see to it that you three recieve a respectable position in the afterlife." With that, the seraphim turns and begins walking towards the Pool of Eternal Reflection, ready to accomplish his ultimate goal of ressurecting Leviathan and put an end to his mission. The three adventurers twist and fidget in their positions on the ground, fighting their pain as best as they can in the hopes of finding some remote possibility of still stopping Jagon, yet discovering only futility and despair. Jagon has walked halfway across the chamber to the Pool when suddenly, a noise from the hallway leading towards the cavern catches his ear. Footsteps...?

Wyvern's scaly lower lip trembles as he mutters numerous apologies to Wrenwind, whimpering as she wanders off with Regel for an elegant slowdance... Thoroughly flattered that anyone would offer to dance with a clutz such as himself and very upset at his own lack of tail manners, Wyvern glares angrily at his tail and hisses: "Ooooh no, you're not ruining the evening for me, not this time... I'll make sure you stay put for the rest of the night!" With that, the overgrown lizard dashes back towards his cart of scientific beakers, waving as he rushes by the newly-arrived Caryon and briefly coming to a halt as he passes by Annael and DoomGaze. Leaning over and picking up one of the black feathers that had fallen from the beautiful angel's wings, Wyvern taps her on the shoulder and says: "Hi guys, sorry for interrupting the conversation... I was wondering, Annael, would you mind if I borrowed this feather?" Annael glances at the black feather curiously, briefly examining it to make sure it has nothing to do with blackmail before nodding an affirmative to the lizard. Bowing and thanking her, the reptilian Elder briefly refills both Annael and DoomGaze's glasses with Bruteweiser booze before heading off towards his cart once again. Arriving at the scientific cart and cursing under his breath, the lizard begins mixing formulas while glancing down at his tail and growling: "You'll see... this formula will render you immobile for the rest of the evening. Dare to butt in when a babe like Wrenwind offers me a dance will you? I'll show you..." Adding in a touch of basilisk eye extract to the mixture and the black fallen angel feather as a final ingredient, Wyvern pours in the vial of Nutrisweet™ he created earlier and takes a small sip of the formula. Immediatly spitting the liquid out due to it's foul taste and gagging to himself, Wyvern is disappointed to find that it doesn't halt his tail but is surprised to find that it has an aftertaste similar to strong dwarven ale...

Wyvern jumps up and down in glee at the thought of a new item to auction off on the black market, but frowns at the notion of having to put any effort into getting it. Rubbing his scaly chin sinisterly, the overgrown lizard quickly rushes into the Writer's Workshop and randomly swipes one of the shortest threads he can find, which happens to be Quincunx's "Passionfruit." Dashing back into the Cabaret Room and triumphantly waving the thread in the air, Wyvern practically crashes into Gwaihir as he points to the thread and exclaims: "I found it! I found it! I found it first!" Gwaihir stares at Wyvern glumly. "You found it Wyvern...? What're you talking about?" Wyvern grins broadly. "I found the solution to your Writers Workshop contest! Lookee here!" With that, Wyvern holds up the "Passionfruit" thread and lets out a diabolical laugh. "Wyvern..." starts Gwai "I said that the responses to the contest should be PMed-" "There's no time for that!" interrupts Wyvern frantically. "I can't wait for the unique artifact for a week... the black market season is just coming to an end." Gwaihir sighs and shakes his head. "Wyv... if you only have one thread, how can you possibly have found the answers to my contest? There were multiple themes to find, remember?" Wyvern scratches his head, reading over the contest rules fully for the first time and noting to himself that Gwaihir has a point. After a moment of thought, the overgrown lizard turns to the Loremaster once again and hisses: "Ahahah... but of course. Allow me to explain: this work contains ALL of the themes you mentioned above. Here's my reasoning..." The overgrown lizard clears his throat and commences. 1) A poem about the dangers of extinction "Passionfruit" certainly contains numerous references to the dangers of extinction. The way that the work is posed as a question suggests one's uncertainty about existance. Also, note that the adjective "round" is used for the passionfruit's taste, and is similar to the shape of the Earth. Once the metaphor is made of the passionfruit being the Earth, the dangers of extinction in this piece become apparent. 2) A piece about the little people and the big people "Passionfruit" contains both "little people" (the tongue) and "big people" (the passionfruit). The little people are trying to make a connection with the big people in the piece by valiently attempting to discover their taste. 3) A story about being trapped In "Passionfruit," the narrator is trapped due to being unable to find an adjective to describe the taste of the fruit. The fruit is also trapped in a way, as it can find no escape from being eaten. 4) A poem about the lowering of a zipper Hmmm... well, have you ever had anyone tell you "shut your zipper"? (I know I have all the time, due to my boasting schemes). The "zipper," in this case, refers to the mouth that's opening to bite into the passionfruit. 5) A poem spoken by a miner Unless I'm mistaken, in the 600th edition of the magazine "Terra Monthly," it was noted that the goblin mining community of Eradication mages were "passionate about fruit." Plus, the eating of fruit can be considered a rather minor thing... 6) A piece about inner beauty and the way it clashes with human greed In "Passionfruit," the greed of biting into the fruit clashes with the inner beauty of it's taste. The way that the taste is described as something visual, being "round," places an emphasis on beauty and appearence as well. 7) A piece about the nearly lost In this piece, the taste of the passionfruit is almost lost due to it's taste being left to the reader's imagination. A poem about being a shadow In "Passionfruit," the fruit mirrors the shadow of the narrator, due to it being specifically-shaped as round which is the exact shape of a goblin miner! 9) An un-commented on piece which includes a growing blooming light "Passionfruit" is uncommented on (though I may be correcting that shortly), and the fruit is used for light dieting while growing and blooming into ripeness. 10) A metaphor between urban pollution and inner confusion The tongue and the mouth are representitive of urban pollution as they pollute urban populations with cell phone calls and endless discourse. They are connected to inner confusion due to the confusion of how "round" could possibly be a taste. 11) An interesting halted story about elves Well... I've often heard that when elves moon folks, a certain particular part of their body ressembles a passionfruit. Perhaps if it were continued, elves would be mentioned... though God forbid if the piece was about tasting those kinds of fruit. ;p Having ended his explanation, Wyvern pants for breath and turns towards Gwaihir. The Protector of Wiggly Cabbages rubs his throbbing temple and smirks at the overgrown lizard as he says: "Well... minor logical discrepencies aside, Wyvern, there's one crucial thing you overlooked: the subtitle of the thread." Wyvern glances at the subtitle and collapses into a sobbing heap. It read "Not a work in progress." ;p

Wyvern practically crashes into Brute as he races down the hall towards the Recruiter's Office, moving as fast as his scaly legs can carry him. Shouting an apology back towards the pallid drunkard and quickly checking the time on the toy Tyco Wristwatch™ he had stolen from a little kid in a stroller, the overgrown lizard breaths a sigh of relief as he notices the hands of the watch are still glued on 12:00 P.M. Wyvern didn't understand why, but somehow the watch seemed to have magical properties since the time never seemed to change on it... Rushing into the Office and striking a triumphant pose as he enters, Wyvern turns to Silver Dragon and Melba and proudly points to his watch, exclaiming: "Greetings, fellow Pen members and honored guests! Today is a historic moment... this is the first time I've arrived five minutes early!" Silver Dragon and Melba exchange glances glumly before the Almost Secretary of Initiates clears her throat and angrily growls: "If you don't count the week that's passed by and the couple of hours you're late today, I might almost say that you're correct, Wyvern. But of course, I won't even give you that remote notion of satisfaction." Noticing that both Silver Dragon and Melba appear to be rather irritated by his apparent lateness, Wyvern checks the grandfather clock resting in the corner of the Office and notes that it is, indeed, a week later than he had expected. Suddenly realizing why all of his endorsement deals had fallen through the roof and the reason that none of his associates had showed up at the financial meetings, Wyvern tosses the watch away in disgust. "I'll stick to stealing simple candy from now on..." hisses the reptilian Elder as he bows to Silver Dragon and picks up her application with his right claw. Reading over the introduction, the overgrown lizard grins and exclaims: "I see that you also have some dragonic blood in you... well I'll be darned! It'll be great to have another almost dragon around these parts. Man, I wish that *I* had wings like yours..." Silver Dragon smiles and blushes slightly, scooting her chair over due to not wanting to be associated in any way to the evil-looking Elder. They may have both been partially dragonic, but the difference was astounding... they seemed to be almost opposites with their contrasting colors. Suddenly noticing Seyan fidgeting in Silver Dragon's hair, Wyvern's thoughts immediatly turn from similarities in racial lineages to making money off of careless pets. Rubbing his scaly claws sinisterly and searching through his pouch for a toy knight in shining armor doll to lure the pet over, the lizard is interrupted as Melba casts him one of her "You-know-where-this-going-so-don't-be-surprised-if-you're-clobbered-over-the-head-with-a-mallet" glances. Grumbling to himself and leaving Seyan be, the lizard stamps Silver Dragon's application ACCEPTED. ;-) OOC: An ACCEPTED application, Silver Dragon, welcome to the Mighty Pen! My apologies for taking a week to write a proper response, the applications were really flowing in this week and there was a lot to get to. I've enjoyed what you've written so far, and hope to read more of your stuff in the future. Once again, welcome!

Wyvern quietly tip-toes into the Recruiter's Office just as Melba begins mentioning how Orlan occasionally feeds her AoA Brand Chocolate. Angrily cursing under his breath, the overgrown lizard notes to himself that he needs to have a discussion with the Elder of Bards about the "Do Not Feed the Melba" sign attached to his door. After all, how was Wyvern's long-term plan of starving Melba to death going to work out if she was occasionally given chocolate to eat?! Wyvern's cover is abruptly blown as Ayshela offers more chocolate to those present in the Office. Unable to resist the temptation of scarfing the entire tray of goodies down, the reptilian Elder decides to forget about sneaking in and out of the room and dives for Ayshela's food. Melba notices the lizard coming from a mile away, however, and quickly holds out a gigantic FBI folder covering Wyvern's schemes, which blocks his course of trajectory with it's immensity. Mumbling to himself as he recovers from the ground, Wyvern quickly proceeds to wipe the dust off of his tunic and greets all of those present in the Office (with the exception of Melba, to whom he simply flips the bird). Turning towards Cylia and vigorously shaking her hand, Wyvern grins and snatches her application story from his desktop. After carefully reading over the sheet and marking various interesting moments, the lizard hisses: "Ah, a very good application story Cylia, and certainly acceptable material. Before I accept it, however, you may want to look into a few weapon products that I have in stock." Cylia d’Listrale raises a brow curiously as Wyvern digs through some black bags resting next to his desk, and goes red as he pulls out an ironing board. "I think that this piece will suite you nicely!" Raising herself to her feet and gritting her teeth angrily, Cylia exclaims: "Absolutely not! I'll have nothing to do with such a product, I am not a housewife! How dare you offer me an ironing board?!" Wyvern frowns and glances at the board that he's holding. "Actually, it's supposed to be an Almost Dragonic Brand Ninja Bo™... though I must say that you have a keen eye for finding the materials used in making Almost Dragonic weapon products." Grumbling to himself, the overgrown lizard tosses the ironing board to the side and searches through his bags for another item, finally grinning and pulling out a knitting kit. Displaying it to Cylia, the lizard hisses: "This Almost Dragonic Brand Hidden Ninja Dagger Kit™ is perfect for you!" Wyvern gulps as he notices Cylia getting steadily more furious, and quickly decides to stamp her application ACCEPTED in the hopes of calming her down. ;-) OOC: On a more serious note, an excellent character history and an ACCEPTED application Cylia. Welcome to the Mighty Pen! I look forward to reading more of your stuff, and also hope to participate in some roleplaying with you. Once again, welcome!

Wyvern whines and shakes a scaley fist as more and more party people begin pointing towards him and giggling, muttering various jokes about Robert Louis Stevenson's Mr. Hyde under their breath. Blushing through his crimson scales as Regel exclaims "What's up doc!", Wyvern quickly avoids the laughter and seeks refuge next to the punchbowl at the refreshments counter of the party. Reaching into his lab coat and pulling out the book "Mad Scientist Experiments for Dummies" by Dr. Tzimfemmstein, the overgrown lizard quickly begins flipping through the pages in the hopes of finding a formula for creating fizz. Coming across the general rule of "mixing whatever formulas happen to be in front of you and adding a touch of salt," the reptilian Elder grabs a beaker of "Elistosorimosis-171" and "Foot yeast serum #11" and begins combining the two of them. Adding in a touch of "Eye of Newt extract" and "Melba's toe-nail clippings," Wyvern watches the combined formula curiously as it morphs to a bright neon purple color. The overgrown lizard sniffs at the mixture, and is disappointed to find that it emanates a familiar sweet smell. He had accidentally mixed the formula for Nutrisweet™ rather than one that created fizz... Cursing to himself and abandoning his formula practices, Wyvern leaves his cart unattended and wanders up to the bar of the Ballroom, feeling a hint of Alzorath's aura as he glances for a spot to sit on the stools. Noticing a very fine-looking lady dressed in one of those sexy strapless gowns that always drove him crazy, Wyvern straightens out his lab coat and makes his way to a vacant stool next to her, eyeing her sinisterly as he hisses: "Hey baby... how would you like to be involved in a psychological experiment?" The lady turns towards Wyvern and shrieks at his question and appearance, slapping him and tossing her glass of booze into his face before spraying him with a can of mace and kicking the legs off of his chair. The woman then proceeds to depart from the Ball in a fury, fully prepared to file a sexual harrassment case against the reptilian Elder. Wyvern whimpers in his position crumpled on the floor of the bar. After basking in his anguish for a few moments, the lizard shrugs it off and lifts himself to his feet, making his way to the dancefloor to see if anyone wanted to do the "Funky Physician."

Wyvern pushes a large cart in front of him as he makes his way to the Pen's Ballroom, making sure that the numerous vials of unidentifiable substances and beakers of bubbling fluids resting on it are steadily kept in position. Brushing a claw over his scaley head and making sure the decorative ribbons attached to his horns are in place, the overgrown lizard adjusts the white lab coat he's wearing and brushes off a few remnants of frog intestines from previous dissections. Coming to a halt at the entrance of the Ballroom and grinning to himself excitedly, Wyvern pulls out Ayshela's invitation and reads it over once again: "llaB llaF." The reptilian Elder still wasn't quite sure what it refered to, but figured it had to do with laboratory work and laughter. He had looted just about every unique-looking potion that he could find from the quarters of the Pen, and felt that for once he was thoroughly prepared for the occasion. Quickly glancing into the reflection on a beaker and making sure his appearence looks formally scientific, Wyvern stretches his wings as best as he can inside of the cramped space of the lab coat before pushing his cart in through the entrance and walking into the Ball. Briefly waving towards Peredhil and Regel and passing by numerous other people who have arrived, the overgrown lizard immediatly wanders up to the beautifully-dressed figure of Ayshela and happily extends a claw in greeting. "Dr. Ayshela, I presume?" Ayshela raises a brow in a mixture of curiousity and distaste as she glances over Wyvern's manner of dress and cart full of scientific beakers. Contemplating whether or not the lizard was unsuccessfully trying to start a new fashion trend, the hostess kindly responds: "Just Ayshela is fine, Wyvern, how do you do? Ummm... what's with the dress-up, by the way? I specified that this wasn't a costume party. Are these vials of fluids refreshments?" Wyvern's eyes widen at the word "party," his jaw going slightly agape. Fumbling for Ayshela's invitation in his pocket, the lizard pulls it out and exclaims: "B-but... it says here 'llaF llaB'!" Ayshela sighs and rolls her eyes as she notices that the clumsy lizard is holding and reading the invitation card upside-down. Pointing out the wording on the bottom of the card that reads "this side up," she says: "This should provide an answer to your questions, Wyv" Wyvern glances at the card curiously as he turns it around so that it's rightside-up, suddenly noticing that it reads "Fall Ball." Slapping his head in dismay and mumbling a string of curses that would leave Lenny Bruce proud, the overgrown lizard bows to Ayshela apologetically and mutters: "I'm sorry, I'll have to be more careful reading next time. Forgive me!" With that, the reptilian Elder starts to sob while the hostess pats him on the back and notifies him that it's O.K. Sniffing and nodding, the overgrown lizard proceeds to push his cart towards the punch bowl in the hopes of experimenting and finding a formula to create permanent fizziness.

Wyvern dashes into the Office at full speed upon hearing the echo of the word "blackmail" as it rings throughout the halls, hopeful that one of his many victims on hold had finally given in and decided to pay him to get off of their backs. Perhaps Falcon2K1 had finally decided to rid himself of the evidence of his putting a piece of used gum on the back of a chair in the Banquet Hall, or maybe Celes Crusador's cat Cambrone had decided that he didn't want to risk his master finding out that he had once spilled the kitty litter. Wyv was certain he could market any catfood given as payment at 200%... Entering into the room and noticing only Lelu Asana and Melba waiting for him, the overgrown lizard stops in his tracks and lets out a nervous stutter. Quickly bowing to the two of them and muttering a brief "hello," Wyvern rapidly turns to rush away from the false alarm in the hopes of getting back to his usual scheming. His plan of escaping duty is abruptly countered, however, as the Door of the Office mysteriously slams shut just as Wyvern attempts to rush out of the room. Running straight into the Door, Wyvern whines in pain and lets out a string of curses. After the reptilian Elder has managed to dislodge his horns from the Door's fine wood carvings, he turns towards Melba and angrily hissing: "Melba... I thought I told you to get the dang door dispelled!" Melba lets out a "hmph!" and crosses her arms over her chest, raising her nose at the overgrown lizard as she mutters: "I happen to like him that way. He's always courteous, unlike some people I know, and never even minds when I rant to him about the awful parts of my job." The Door lets out a loud creak in response to this, desperatly wishing it could communicate with human dialect to air it's negative opinion of the Almost Secretary's comment. Wyvern sighs and shakes his head, abandoning all thoughts of Melba as he turns towards Lelu Asana and grins. Greeting her more formally, the lizard shakes her hand vigourously and picks up her application poem, reading over it carefully and hissing: "Aw yesss, how I wish that I could find a solace from stress and confusion. Unfortunatly, whenever *I* see two dark figures, it always ends up being a collaboration between the tax agencies and the FBI..." Lelu Asana raises a brow at this statement while the Office Door rapidly begins turning it's knob in laughter. Wyvern shakes a fist at the intelligent wood carving and threatens to cast "Summon Termites" as he stamps Lelu's application ACCEPTED. ;-) OOC: An excellent application, Lelu Asana, and certainly an ACCEPTED one. Welcome to the Mighty Pen! I enjoy reading your stuff, and hope to be able to roleplay with you more in the future. Once again, welcome!

Melba's daydream is suddenly interrupted as Wyvern comes barging into the Office carrying a cold honey nugget on Wonder Bread™ sandwich in one hand and a black suitcase bulging full of colorful items in the other. The overgrown lizard swiftly paces by the Almost Secretary and flashes Alzorath one of his token cheesy salesman grins, dropping his suitcase to the ground and brushing off his honey-stained tunic to make his scaly appearence look a tad more presentable. Quickly bowing to the applicant and apologizing for his absence, Wyvern snatches the application story from Alzorath's hands and reads it over thoroughly several times. An evil grin slowly makes it's way across the reptilian Elder's face as he sets the application story down on his desk, his facial expression causing Melba to quickly rush out of the office in search of the nearest emergancy Anti-Wyvern Mallet... Turning towards Alzorath, Wyvern sinisterly hisses: "A very intriguing introduction, Alzorath, certainly acceptable material. Though I can't offer any methods of ressurection for mortal wounds, as that's Elder Gyrfalcon's field, I can offer you some new and improved Almost Dragonic Brand Distinct and Glorious Banners™" "Well..." starts Alzorath "I-" Before the applicant can continue, Wyvern opens his black suitecase and pulls out a large banner on which a giant picture of a rabbit in the robes of a king has been drawn. Circling the rabbit are pictures of carrot swords and spears, and directly below the robed animal the words "Mr. Bunnee" have been written in bold letters. Alzorath gazes at the banner curiously. "This heraldic depiction of Mr. Bunnee will work wonders for striking fear into the hearts of your foes. After all, there's nothing more terrifying then the thought of having to eat vegetables! Plus, as an added bonus, you could dine on your mascot after the battle has ended..." Alzorath sits in silence for a few moments. "Well, you see Mr. Wyvern, I-" Seeing Alzorath's lack of interest in the Mr. Bunnee banner, Wyvern rapidly shuffles through other numerous options in his suitecase until he comes across another banner. Pulling out a large banner on which a majestic picture of himself has been drawn, Wyvern points towards the design and says: "This one is my personal favorite, your enemy will be so awe-struck by the beauty of the lizard presented on the banner that they won't be able to fight. Plus, if you look really hard, you'll notice that this speck stitched into the lower right-hand corner of the picture is a tiny representation of Melba, who tends to inspire fear-" At that moment, as if on cue, Melba comes barging back into the Office waving an Anti-Wyvern Mallet in the air. The overgrown lizard stutters as she rushes towards him and clobbers him over the head with it, stamping Alzorath's application ACCEPTED just as he slips into unconsciousness. ;-) OOC: As Ayshela pointed out, this is a very vivid vignette Alzorath... certainly ACCEPTED. Welcome to the Mighty Pen! I look forward to reading more of your stuff, and hope that you'll find us a warm and welcoming creative writing community.

Wyvern strides into the Cabaret Room and sets a quaint birthday cake he had "borrowed" from Celes Crusador's cafe' onto a table located at the center of the room. Opening a package of Almost Dragonic Brand Candles™ and pouring them haphazardly onto the white frosting of the delicacy, the overgrown lizard rubs his scaly chin in contemplation as he tries to remember the incantation to the spell "Blaze..." Mumbling a few arcane words under his mouth and waving his hands around a bit, the reptilian Elder accidentally casts "Animate Object" instead of his intended spell. He stutters as the cake suddenly grows a mouth and begins muttering: "Ah geeze... look at this, I'm covered in this white filth. What are these, needles sticking out of me? Hey, who're you and what's going on here?" Nervously glancing left and right, the lizard attempts to cast "Blaze" again in the hopes of silencing the loudmouthed cake, but accidentally freezes it instead. Grumbling to himself and making continual attempts at casting the spell, Wyvern crowds the room with summoned squirrels and causes it to stink like carrion before eventually giving up mid-way through what would have been a Meteor Storm spell. Sighing to himself and not realizing that the candles wouldn't have lit anyway due to their being Almost Dragonic Brand, the overgrown lizard watches as the squirrels surround the icey cake and begin nibbling on it, and desperatly exclaims: "Cheyenne! I just wanted to wish you a happy birthday, wherever you are!" ;-) OOC: Happy 30th Cheyenne.

Wyvern strides into the Cabaret Room in a slightly belated manner, carefully stepping over the remnants of a broken Taco Bell sign as he makes his way towards Tralla and Seii. Wishing the two of them a happy birthday, the overgrown lizard digs through his tunic and pulls out a book entitled "101 More Reasons that The Gift of Fear Rocks" by Tra Las Ahsum, which he hands to Tralla. Turning to Seii, he hands the Initiate a compass capable of pinpointing his exact location between hope and truth. Having distributed these items, Wyvern bows to the two birthday folk and heads out of the Cabaret Room, hopping by Hopperwolf and wishing him a belated happy birthday as well as he does so... OOC: Happy Birthday, Tralla and Seii! October certainly is a popular month for birthdays!

Wyvern stutters as he glances left and right at the crowd, getting violently mugged by the goons and smothered with affection by his friends in turn. His eyes widen in confusion as he watches one fourth of the crowd break into a syncopated version of the "Macarena" due to Orlan's West Side Story spell losing control and twisting into dangerous musical proportions. The lizard is about to speak up when a crowd of photographers and promoters suddenly surround him, stuffing his open mouth with three Taco Bell Gordita's and handing him a trembling chihuahua as several of the photographers take pictures. He begins to choke on one of the quasi-edible fastfood products as the chihuahua loses all control and starts pissing over his brand new tunic, interrupted only as a line of mamboing Pen members practically tramples the lizard to the ground. Wyvern barely has time to recover himself before he's surrounded by reporters for several widespread magazines, including "Wired," "National Lampoon," and "GQ." The reporters for "National Lampoon" and "GQ" sketch Wyvern's current mangled position on the ground for the uses of comic parodies and fashion statements respectively while the reporters for "Wired" aim their microphones towards the ground and exclaim: "Mr. Wyvern! Is there anything you'd like to say to the press on this occasion?" Wyvern mumbles and fidgets on the ground as the chihuahua angrily knaws on his left horn. "I- *cough*BLECH... get this... ack, stupid mutt!" The reporters nod and jot down Wyvern's semi-coherent words, deciding that the title for their next issue would be called. "Ack, Stupid Mutt: the Wyvern Story." As the reporters depart from the scene, Wyvern slowly lifts himself to his feet and snatches the chihuahua in a rage, rolling it up into a ball and trying to kick it like they do in the cartoons but only hurting his toe in the process. Clenching his foot in pain and hopping away from the scene, he makes his way back to the stage just as several members in the crowd mistake the rolled-up chihuahua for a Nimball... Clearing his throat of a few ashes, Wyvern speaks up and says: "I am honored to recieve such recognition, and would like to thank a number of things that have helped me along the way. I couldn't have made it this far without Coca Cola, Enron, M&Ms, Crest Toothpaste, Mitsubishi, Doritos, Smacks Cereal (I dig'em!), Oreo-" Wyvern suddenly stops in his speech as he notices Orlan and Gwaihir glaring angrily at him. Letting out a small nervous laugh and accepting a bag of money from a promoter in the audience, the overgrown lizard gulps and says: "So anyway, titles and stuff aside since I know that I'm still not going to be able to pick up any chicks by saying that I'm a Bard... do I get the keys to the Bard lavatory?" Orlan and Peredhil exchange worried glances before the Sexy Sexy Man clears his throat and answers: "I hate to break it to you, Wyv, but the Bard lavatory of the Pen is just a legend. After all, no bathroom is capable of hosting toilets that play musical instruments when you flush them..." Wyvern whimpers in disappointment just as a swarm of Pen members storms the stage playing Taco Bell Chihuahua Nimball. ;-) OOC: On a more serious note: thanks, everyone. If you find my posts entertaining, know that you guys all inspire me to post and are the reason that I try to maintain a certain level of consistancy. Y'all are dear to my heart, and your writings never cease to amaze me. Thank you all.

Excellent story Valdar! I thought that it was a very entertaining read the whole way through, and particularly liked the excellent description of the Four Horsemen's destructive performance. I also really liked the comedy throughout... rather than simply "borrowing" Douglas Adams' humor I think that you laid it out as the foundation for your own brand of humor and built upon it. The incorporation of Wyvern in the story was excellent as well, and the part where he was distracted by Letum's cleavage really had me cracking up. Once again, I'm honored that you chose to have Wyv play a role in the story. In terms of possible improvements, I think that perhaps a bit more description could be given for Al`Kalla`deltarralta`lamadaa`radon a.k.a Armageddon a.k.a Bob and the Four Horsemen, as it could render them more vivid. Though you did mention a few details, such as Morier being "skeletaly thin" and Letum having a "pale bosom" (*laughs again at the thought of that scene*), perhaps you could add a few more, particularly for Bob whom we only know as being "old." Also, on a minor note, it's "Nanotoknonnen-Os." Great stuff! Having said this, Wyvern nods and exits before locust swarms start being sent after Ancient Egyption God spelling errors...

Arwen slowly raps her fingers on the small coffee table sitting next to her chair and sighs, glancing towards the Recruitment desk in the hopes of finding the Elder of Initiates but noticing only a dust-covered "Out to Lunch" sign sitting there. Sighing and fidgeting in her chair, she wonders what could possibly be taking Wyvern such a long time to arrive... Wrenwind, who is anxiously pacing back and forth next to Arwen's seat, turns towards the applicant and mutters: "Sorry about the wait, Arwen. The lizard's absences are something one gradually grows accustomed to... I'm afraid that judging by the sign on his desk, it may still be a while before he-" At that moment, Wyvern suddenly barges into the Office at full speed and interrupts Wrenwind in mid-speech. The overgrown lizard has numerous papers clenched in his claws and teeth and a "to-do" list has been attached to his tail by means of his scorpion tip. The list is so long that it drags behind the lizard like a tattered carpet, almost inviting people to tred on his tail. Gasping for breath and collapsing upon reaching his desk, Wyvern is promptly buried in an avalanche of papers as his falling to the ground causes a seismic shift in the mountains of sheets surrounding the area. Wrenwind winces at the sight of Wyvern's unexpected burial and quickly reaches for an emergancy telephone resting on a nearby wall, dialing for the Elder Dwarf clean-up service. After a short wait, Bravery arrives at the Office with a miniature shovel and rapidly digs Wyvern out of the mess. Slowly standing up and rubbing his scaly head in pain, Wyvern greets both Arwen and Wrenwind with a wave of a papercut claw and a clumsy grin. Swiftly walking up to Arwen and snatching the application poem from her hands, the overgrown lizard reads the piece over several times before sinisterly hissing: "I ssssee... A good poem, Arwen. However, before I accept it, a question:" Wyvern rubs his scaly palms together as an evil grin slowly makes it's way over his face. "Is it true that you're spoiled to the extent that you no longer know the meaning of money? If so, I'd certainly be willing to help you correct that trait-" Wyvern's negotiation tactics are suddenly cut short as he notices Wrenwind glaring at him menacingly, and he grumbles as he stamps Arwen's application ACCEPTED. ;-) OOC: An ACCEPTED application poem, Arwen... welcome to the Mighty Pen! Sorry for the long wait in responding, I was loaded down with work... For what it's worth, though you may have technically only just applied, I've considered you a member of the community for some time now and hope that you continue to enjoy posting with us and contributing. Once again, welcome!

Wyvern dashes into the Cabaret Room in a typically late manner, cursing to himself over not being able to wish the three birthday folk his best on the proper day. Noticing that the birthday cake and party favors have run out, he whimpers to himself and swiftly wanders up to Lady Celes Crusador, whispering: "Psssssst, hey Celes, a slightly belated happy birthday to you. News from the frontlines: the Scantavia Brothers were last spotted combing their hair and viewing their complexions in the mirror. Operation "Rabid Badger Hidden in the Hairdryer" is well underway..." With that Wyvern, winks and grins to the famous Troubador, making his way to the next birthday person. As the overgrown lizard approaches Damon Inferel, he reaches into his tunic and pulls out a legal document. Pointing at the sheet, Wyvern exclaims: "Happy belated birthday, Damon. As a gift, I have this certificate that will give you three free shipments of Almost Dragonic Brand Gorgonzola™ for your cheese factory. It's 100% guaranteed to not go bad for 48 hours, and made with real gorgon!" Wyvern bows and grins as Damon takes the document and glances at it curiously. Leaving the freestyle kitten and heading towards Starlight in the hopes of wishing him a belated happy birthday, Wyv very narrowly misses being hit by the rocket that is Minta Rose. As Minta passes by the reptilian Elder, it causes him to rapidly spin in circles and momentarily become a miniature tornado, spinning towards Starlight at a rapid pace. After Wyv stops spinning, he whipes Minta's sugar exhaust from his tunic and dizzily murmers to Starlight: "Happy... belated... B-day..." ;-) OOC: A very happy birthday to Celes Crusador, Damon, and Starlight! Sorry I got to this late.