The Portrait of Zool

Post-modernist fem. Publish this.

Take good care Ayshela - and get plenty of rest! We'll keep, though you know we'll always miss you too.

See the movie thread here.

I wrote this a long time ago to publicize Wyvern's project 'Gyrfalcon the Movie'. It had little to do with the 'movie', but I was perusing the old boards and ran across it, and I thought, 'Ya know, I think this is worth keeping.' Enjoy. Author: Zool Topic: Wyvern Productions presents... Veteran Posts: 1799 Registered: Apr 2000 posted November 03, 2000 01:24 PM -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- *You hear a male announcer speak in a booming gravelly voice, intercut with movie dialog and flashes of the relevant scenes* First there was Gone With The Wind. "I'm really a man." "Frankly Scarlet, I don't give a Damn!" Then there was Star Wars. "The toilet is stopped up again Han!" "Use the force, Luke." Now there's Gyrfalcon The Movie. *The sound of wardrums hammer from the surround sound. A lovely woman in billowing white robe rides in slow motion through a sodden meadow. In the background a band of filthy cut-throats brandishing weapons are riding hard to catch up to her. You see the picture for only a second, and then it fades to black* What is it that makes a half-elf a warrior? *The drums hammer again, and again the scene with the woman on horseback is flashed. They have advanced to a rocky landscape. It fades back to black* What is it that makes a warrior a hero? *This time when the drums beat you see the woman climbing some boulders on a mountainside. The cut-throats are still after her, scrabbling up the rocks a bare ten meters behind her. Lightning flashes across the scene, and her hair whips in the wind. The scene then fades to black again.* What is it that makes a hero a legend? *She reaches the top of a rocky outcropping and throws off her robe, revealling a steel bra and mail skirt, high leather boots, helical bronze arm bracers, and a whicked sword on her back. She dons thick padded gloves, then draws a bulky something from inside the robe and holds it high over her head in a dramatic pose on the rocky peak, her lithe figure black against the cloudy wind blown sky. Fade to black.* What is it that makes a legend a demi-god? *Thunder roars in a flash of brilliance. A chorus sings Wagnerian opera to the beat of the war drums. Seen for the first time is Gyrfalcon, standing near the woman. He is smiling heroically, holding a heroic pose. The lightning goes right over their heads, brushing what the woman is holding in her hands, and frying the cut-throat mob to bloody cinders. She places the object between them and they sit down. She starts serving the steaming casserole.* For the first time, See the epic tale of Gyrfalcon. See the heroic story of the warrior, the hero, the legend, and his lunch! Featuring an all-star cast, brought to you by Wyvern productions; The lovely Elemestra, heroine and Gyrfalcon's Femme Fatal, played by Cheyenne. *You see Elemestra in lovely sorceress robes at the top of the stairs in a stone castle, hands on hips.* "Why don't you come up and see me sometime?" Bardis, Gyrfalcon's faithfull right-hand man, played by Immortalis. *You see Immortalis's hamster Hammill tied to a table. a sinister henchman approaches with a roll of duct tape.* "Don' worry 'bout da Hamstuh, we're just gonna teach him a little trick." Mystic, played by Peredhil31. *You see Mystic in a dark hut in front of a crystal ball, an anxious client across from him.* "I am getting a vision. Yes. Yes, today would be a bad day to step in front of a speeding bus. Also watch out for cliffs..." Sinistro, played by P51mus. *You see Sinistro holding a sword at Bardis's throat. Both men are bruised and have oozing wounds.* "I am the incarnation of pure evil. I am despised in a thousand Kingdoms, hated in ten thousand more. I thrive on the blood and suffering of the innocent, and I cheat at dominoes." Nemphis, Sinistro's evil minion, played by the King of Kings, Ozymandias. *You see Nemphis in a small apartment. He is in a plaid shirt and is unshaven.* "You talkin' ta me(Hic)? I'm the only one heah." Terrorizer, Sinistro's hatchet dragon, played by Zool's rubber chicken. *You see an immense, evil black dragon shooting fireballs from his mouth and wreaking total destruction. Walking like a chicken, he struts to a hut and begins pecking at elves.* And Playing the heroic Gyrfalcon is the incomparable Racouol, Bearer of deep pockets (by special arrangement of the producer ). Opening soon in a Conservatory near you. Actual scenes may vary. ------------------ Zool Ager1 Eradication Mage Bard of Terra Doing it because; I can. The Pen is Mightier than the Sword - A1 Elder

ROFL! Well, if that's the way you feel about it...

Ya know, any of this work could buy off yer weenie, IMO... But you gotta remember to apply it!

That's my dad too! :woot: Hehe, I can't wait to show that to him.

I heard a pretty funny one the other day, except I think it might be true. I heard that Haiti is going to invade the US and install a Democracy!

I'm voting for not diluting our chance at ousting the Bush regime. I'm voting for the other camp. I'm voting for pulling the US constitution out of the shredder - Patriot Act - GRRRRR!

November... beginning of the holiday rush... Maybe next year.

Yo dude! Ya know I owe to yer good writing advice as well! Kan U tel how eye'v improoved! :woot: Heh, just kidding you, 'cept the for the owing you part. Thank you. Hope all is going well for you, and hope you stop by more often!

He's back! :woot: ...him and his EVIL WEENIE!

It's beautiful because it is warm, and it is true. Excellently done, Yui.

Phew! Oh, that could be dangerous!

Best wishes on your very special day - the day you get to drink! ;p

Elderish, but not Elderly... 41

The door slowly creaked open... ...and no one was there. But look closer - the light of a brilliant fall morning danced joyously through the portal, spraying the dreary room with her soft warm energies. On a breeze that still fluttered with the end of summer she turned, twisted, cavorted into the room, joyously freeing the hidden corners and deep shadows of their lingering emotions and burden of darkness. All was light, all was free, all was infused with a golden glow... "Hold it! Hoooold it!" shouted Zool. Hearing the door creak open, he had raised a jaundiced eye hoping to wallow further in his weeniness, only to be shocked at seeing the golden joyous light flooding the room. Jellously guarding his meloncholy, his snap decision was that steps had to be taken! "None of that now! This is a serious weenie RP, full of meloncholy and, and, and weenieness, and stuff. Sweetness and light just ain't gonna cut it. Take the golden glow OUTSIDE and let us suffer in peace!" Sazure, the distant cousin of Saturn, bastard child of Gaea and Uranus, and the father of the light of fall, who was in a bad mood lately as the wailing of the dying summer and the impatient keening of the coming winter were constantly burning his ears, overheard Zool's angry shouting at his daughter's entry. This was unfortunate, as nothing healed his ears like the sounds of welcome usually caused by her presence. Zool's reprimand was the last straw. In a towering rage he came down in a thundercloud. The sky grew dark, and the light grew weak and cowered in the doorframe, fearing for her father's arrival. A crack of thunder and blinding flash of lightning through the open door announced his arrival and delivered a good soaking rain to advertise his presence. "Who is it that speaks to my fair daughter so!?" he angrily demanded to know, brandishing his blue handled hammer. He was a fearsome visage, 3 meters tall, covered in animal skins, with a sack of preserved food on his back, and his long wild mane of black and gray hair tied back with a wisteria garland. He also had a nice speaking voice, deep and clear. Zool, in a fit of impudence he would usually be able to control in the bald face of such danger, stood fast. "You will NOT impose your healling light and golden glow on me!" he stated defiantly. "SILENCE!" roared Sazure, smashing a fair sized hole in the ceilling with his hammer. Zool was unmoved, replying stubbornly, "You will NOT impose your silence on me." Sazure roared again, and in an instantaneously deft move launched his blue handled hammer. The hammer was a manifestation of the very motivating energy of the universe, and was thus unstoppable. The hammer had come to Sazure as the symbol of an obscure and minor role he had as a minor deity, but as with all things godly, was none the less not without consequence. As Eros is the love that softens the heart, so the power of the blue handled hammer is the love that softens the head. Speaking of which, the hammer beaned Zool right in the head - with godly force. * * * * * Zool came to looking up at a ring of faces looking down at him. Sazure was gone. The storm was gone. He did not get up, but lay in a daze. "Is'e alright?" asked someone. Then Zool noticed something for the first time, something that felt good, over by the door... "Oooh, what a pretty light," he cooed, and then was silent, merely laying limply with an insipid grin on his face, his eyes drinking in the dancing sunbeams.

Out of the darkness came a rattling, humming, wheezing hiss, and then another, and then another, in a long, easy, nasally snoutish huff. Zool listened long enough to make sure Wyvern was fast asleep before manifesting completely. Then, in a quick movement he flowed out into chalky profile. The light was dim, but Zool could just make out the dark corner where Wyvern lay. Zool looked at the chalkboard on which he was now depicted. He often bitterly complained about being trapped in a portrait, but recently with the reincarnation of his mage self he had taken to reevaluating the strategic advantages of being 2-dimensional. He had rarely taken advantage of his ability to travel from picture to picture in the past, but actually began to appreciate his situation now. Pictures and renderings were ubiquitous throughout the Pen, and this made for a very stealthy mode of travel, and Zool was innately very, very stealthy - he kept telling himself. Turning his visage to look at the title scrawled at the top of the chalk board he saw that the scheme of the day was; "Almost Dragonic Brand Caerbannog Mana Troves - charge'em for their energy without them even knowing about it!" Zool stifled a guffaw, "He'd gone for it!" he thought with self-serving glee. Proudly he checked the rows of mana=geld calculations he had surreptitiously left some weeks ago in the endless piles of likewise senseless plans and schemes, in hopes they would catch Wyvern's eye. The idea was pure non-sense, of course, but Zool had banked on Wyvern's number myopia and his overriding greed to trap him. Like taking candy from a baby. With an admiring finger he reached over to straighten a slightly skewed character on the board, only to have it fall over a little more. He corrected, this time pushing it a little too hard the other way, and with a silent slow motion chalk dust action it began to fall, hitting and knocking loose other characters as it went. Zool tried to catch them, only having his motions disturb still more of the carefully laid out rows of numbers on the score board, the result being a rain of twirling tumbling characters and lines across the chalkboard. Ack!! A motion in the dark corner caught his eye just as the light came up. Wyvern peered blearilly into his mussy room, more dimly lit than usual. Something didn't seem quite right, but he wasn't sure what. He stared for a long moment, but could see nothing wrong, so got up to do his business. He came back a moment later much relieved, then lay back down, blew out the lamp with a quick puff from his scaly snout and within seconds started snoring again. Zool exhaled very slowly, afraid that his shaking would dislodge the chalk board from the wall. Blob slowly contracted from covering the messy chalkboard, a display of neat rows of numbers shrinking into a central blob, which was Blob, Zool's Familiar of enchanted paint. "Thank you!!" whispered Zool as loud as he dare with profound gratitude. "Yeah, you'd better be thankful I saved your bacon again!" Blob seemed to say, as he flowed back into Zool's chalk jacket. Painstakingly, Zool reconstructed the scores and figures the way they were, except to adjust the equations according to the next phase of his plan. From mana-troves to geld coffers was but the length of a mages Keep, and Zool meant to make sure Wyvern became aware of that next. Once the golden gleam of Geld entered Wyvern's eyes, it was only a matter of time before he incarnated with the rest of us as a Mage in The Reincarnation! Zool glanced over at the chess board and started to laugh evilly, then thought better of it. Finishing up, and checking it twice, he silently and very very carefully slipped back to his portrait, disappearing in a tiny poof of chalk dust.

Yes! :woot:

Revery stumbles, trying to resist the powerful urge to incarnate. He feels so drawn, but he resists. Then, just as he thinks he has it beat, he begins to feel his resistance fading fast. "Nooooo!" Something seems to be draining his will to sanity... Down and across the hall, back in the shadows but just in sight of where the recruitment poster is posted, hangs a full standing portrait of Zool, Elder of Elders, Warrior of Mirth. He is straining to watch Revery with a peculiar concentration, and at the same time slowly swinging a rubber chicken by it's feet. Revery's whole body began to gently sway in unison with the swaying of the rubber chicken. "Sign the paper..." Zool was saying in a slow, commanding tone. "You cannot resist the power of the chicken..."

Indeed, Happy B-day dear Celes. :wizzie:

Last to file in (as usual, though fortunately the celebrations of Master P's big B day were still continuing) was the company of Zool in the broken form of Grimmael, dragging a loooong box big enough for a full grown bull alligator. Zool had considered giving an aligator, but wasn't sure where to put the handle, or whether there was enough spare room under Pered's bed. Grimmael stopped in front of the dusty and cobweb covered portrait of Zool just as it sprung to life. "Cough! Ye... *gasp* Gawds! Doesn't anyone dust around here any more?" Grimmael looked up awkwardly, peeping around his pronounced hump, and sprung to the rescue - so he thought. Randomly tearing away one of the many rags hung over his crippled frame he took it and began whipping the dust and flotsam from the neglected painting, raising such a dust storm that soon half the room was coughing, and sending Zool into a coughing fit. It was several minutes before the dust cleared and he was again able to speak. "Thanks," said Zool with a straight face and only a glimmer of sardonic expression in his eyes, then he brightened. "Happy birthday Peredhil!" As he said this the big box sprung open and fell to the side. Inside was a large glass box. The bottom was wooden and framed with wonderful workmanship, and the top was bordered with thick yellow and black caution tape. On the top glass pane were the words 'CAUTION! USE ONLY IN CASE OF EMERGENCY!'. Under the words, mounted on two hooks on the wooden framing, was a small silver hammer. Inside the box was what appeared to be two ghastly oversized limbs. The cabaret was silent - hardly anybody even breathed. Zool had a huge grin on his face, his arms spread wide as he presented his gift. He waited... and waited... finally it dawned on even Zool that he should say something. "These are my own personal Group-Hug Accomodators, the pair of nine foot long purple plastic Popeye arms! For you, Peredhil, as I know they will go to better purpose in your care. "Ohhhh...." came a few polite but unenthusiastic responses from the crowd. "Aaah, the good times I have had - if you only knew the historical group hugs corraled by their long plastic embrace..." Zool drifted off, his eyes misty, staring into some other time, some other place. Suddenly he came back. "Who here remembers the giant SockPuppet super-group hug of 8th S2 Terra??" Everyone looked at each other blankly. "That was the giant pair of nine foot long purple plastic Popeye arms! How about The Demensne group Hug of 12th A1? The magnificent group hug of the 47th?!? I could go on. I think, however, that I have clearly made my point." Everyone looked at each other blankly. Turning to Peredhil, he added, "I give them up sadly, but willingly, as in my present state, which is looking more and more extended, I am unable to wield them myself, and spread the love of the group hug that is an extension of the power of the extended arms, that is but an extension of the power of the extended heart. And now, I extend them to you." Saying this, Zool bowed deeply in giving. Happy B-day, big guy.

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Thank you Gyrfalcon, but I won't be needing them after all. I'm still wondering why they are not on the board though.

As a footnote, every color in Archmage had their 'Ancient' ultimate spell, only obtainable through a rare and highly coveted item - except Red. The Ancient ultimate Eradication spell 'Heart Ablaze' was our literary attempt to fill that gap.