The Portrait of Zool

Welcome.

IF(!?!?!?!?!?!?) there was a movie? It's a Bogart classic, directed by John Huston. You gotta see it! http://www.filmsite.org/malt.html I would love to read the book. Heh... what a caper... heh... Okay, it's a dumb joke - but it was fun for me!

Wow! That really was very well done.

The issue of adding a more 'adult' oriented forum did come up once, but lack of interest pretty quickly killed that idea. Our style mainly encompasses general fantasy and RP storytelling, so by default we are more of a 'family' oriented site, and I think we are pretty good at that anyway.

I don't know Archaneus, maybe it's not thinking about it that keeps us from strangling ourselves with our umbilical cords at birth - I just don't know. Of course, maybe it's possible some people think too far down the wrong path... People are certainly free to do that, if they wish. Good description of existential angst.

"Hey yous, pssst..." Rev looks around for the source of the whispering voice, leading to a dark corner of the forum. "Yeah, yous." Rev points to himself wordlessly, then looks around. No one else is around. "Yes, yous! C'mere." Rev slowly walks toward the shadowy corner. He can just make out a thin dark shape crouching low. "I heard yous was lookin' for a caper. Dat true?" said the voice without introduction. "Err, yeah, I was looking for some capers... Is that a trench coat... And a fedora?" Reverie squinted into the darkness, but just couldn't quite seperate the shadows. "Let's not worry about the fashion statement... I got a caper for ya - Here!" Rev "Oofs" as a heavy newspaper wrapped bundle is shoved in his arms. "Take it! Take it and run for your life! Men have died for it - killed for it! Don't let them catch you or your life ain't worth a plugged geld - NOW RUN!" Reverie arose in a panic, sprinting for the door. Behind him was a gunshot, and Rev was able to turn around just in time to catch a shadow tumbling to the ground out of the corner of his eye. Thinking fast, he rolled to the left behind the credenza just as all hell broke loose. Guns roared, several this time, the credenza showering him with woodchips as it gave it's all. Still tucked in his diving roll, Rev bounded to his feet and hurtled through the window, the heavy curtains protecting him from the crashing glass and the sharp branches of the thick hedge below. Quickly regaining his feet he ran into the rainy night. Guns popped behind him, but it was too dark, and he was too fast. He didn't look back, just kept running. At first he routed all the usual suspects, but with no luck. He hopped from city to city, then from country to country, endlessly searching, endlessly pursued. He knew one day they would catch up to him - but not if he could get scarface first. It was a race to the finish - the final finish. But through it all he knew he could never forget the shadow who had started it all, the one who had given his life for the thread, and had first introduced him to - The Maltese Caper.

*Whew!* Fortunately, it was just culinary arrest. I love capers - but even better are Kalamata olives!

*Zool looks at Reveries 'compensations', grimaces, picks up the phone, dials 9 -1, and waits...*

Poem to Every Person Be good to yourself it's no one elses job Try to make the world -you do, you know- a better place one day at a time one person at a time it all comes back to you.

Well, I TRIED to... perhaps you could encourage her to HURRY UP with her app? P'raps she could use a lil' reinforcement...

All the shuttle 'fleet' is grounded until further notice. I take it the space station has supplies to last through May. This is indeed a very sad day. I too remember the Challenger and it's aftermath. This is a very serious reminder that space travel is still in it's infancy. We have been going into space not even 50 years. It is still a very dangerous endeavor, though I agree it is the pinnacle of humanity's technological achievment. In space and space travel lies the future of Mankind. The astronauts know the risks, but I believe they also keep in mind what there is to gain. It is no accident that many of the world's brightest and most capable people work very hard to try to be a part of the space program. I think we should keep that in mind. For now we bow our heads in remembrance and appreciation of the sacrifice those seven astronauts have made. Afterwards will come the time to learn from our mistakes, as they would undoubtedly have us do, to continue on into space, and out to our destiny.

I think keeping it open will be fun. Looks like it's your turn to move it forward though...

Very heartfelt, with a tragic fee, as though the author is pleading when he already knows it's too late... *The poem resonates with Zool*

Hey if you're gonna dream, you gotta go F250!! That's the big boys toy. *Never could afford one either* Cool story - it flows.

Rune opened her mouth to insist he this time explain what he was about, but quick as a wink he had leaped to his feet and was practically loping for the door. Though surprised, she was not one to be so easily evaded. "Wha... Hey! What's your name? What are you... Where are you going?!" She ran to keep up with him. As she came through the doorway he had just exited she saw he was already half way down the hall. She ran to keep up, faster this time. "Hey Mister! Slow down!" Though an old man, each of his strides seemed to cover yards as he swung the oak staff next to him, swallowing distance like a starving man attacking pizza with everything, his long white beard trailing behind like a streamer. Desperately she dove for his robe, catching it at the helm and dragging him to a stop. He turned around with the demeaner of one who has just snagged his clothes on a log. "Young girl, I have important business to attend to. If you would just LET GO, I will be on my way and you shall also be free of me." As the old man said the words 'LET GO', he jerked the tail of his robe out of her hands, then he turned to resume his trajectory. "Wait!" cried Rune, "Maybe I can help." Her large liquid blue eyes peered up at the old man with innocent honesty so touching it even gave the obsessed old man pause. "Young lady," he began in a patient, regal tone, "Unless you have information of the whereabouts of the firebird of paradise, which I highly doubt, then you can realistically be of no help, let alone use to me." Then he gave her such a withering stare as to cause Rune to wince, but being of a stout heart she did not lose her voice. "Sir, I am afraid it is true that I am rather young of years and even new to this keep." Her voice came out in a squeak, but having spoken without incident, she soon found the rest of her courage. "However," she continued sweetly, "I have heard some murmerings of the firebird of paradise in these halls - perhaps I could be a help to you, though if you continue to glare at me I couldn't possibly be of a mind to help you now, could I?" The old man's eyes grew wide with indignation. "What's this!? The young wisp of a girl speaks to me thus? What impertinance! Were we in my own castle I should have you flogged for threatening to withold information." He bent down to look Rune in the eye. His face was wide and weathered, framed in white, and though the tone in his voice was stern, the look in his eyes was... concern. And when he next spoke, his voice did match his eyes. "Do you think... do you think you really could help me find the firebird of paradise?" "Well," answered Rune slowly, "I'm not sure - but I sure could find out in short order if you would follow me." "Oh yes, of course." The old man moved to help Rune to her feet, and was left reaching for the ground as she bound to her feet like a spring. Grabbing his hand she began pulling him down a side corridor. His back straightened up with a *Crrrrick!*. She led him through the small dark corridor which let out into a kitchen, which led through another small hall through to a dining room, which then went to a large sitting room, which then... On and on and on she led the old man, through a maze of interconnecting hallways and rooms in the giant Keep of the Pen is Mightier than the Sword. The old man might have been moving extremely fast, but he realized he may never the less have never arrived at his destination. As they walked, they talked. "I'm Rune. What's your name? "They call me Josh," said the old man. "Why do they call you Josh?" asked Rune inexplicably. "Because that's not my real name. All right, I'll tell you my real name. It's KJxzhr." "Whaaat?" "See, that's really why they call me Josh." "Oh," was Rune's response, the painful memmory of his real name still ringing in her ears. 'What in the world posesses some parents?' She wondered to herself. "Sorry about that," said Rune, turning to the old man and looking up at him with he big empathic eyes. "Oh, That's all right," said the gruff old man softly, averting his gaze. They stopped. In front of them was a large fireplace with a small fire in it. Above that was a full size standing portrait of a man. He stood regally, dressed in black leather trimmed in red, one hand resting on a silver handled walking stick, over his other arm was laying a... "Is that a rubber chicken over his arm?" asked the old man, half to himself - and then he looked at the figures hair. Over a meter tall, swooped up in an oily wave that ended in a curl to end all voobah curls, and lamb chop sideburns to match. "ZOOL!" yelled Rune, with such force that the old man was startled nearly out of his robe. "Sometimes he's a little preoccupied," explained Rune. "Zoooooliooo!" To the old man's astonishment the figure in the painting suddenly took on an animation of it's own. it was as if it filled out, giving a near perfect three dimensional representation, though he could still see the brush strokes, and when he looked at it from the side the canvas was still quite flat. "WHAAAAAT!?" Roared the painting. "Jiminy, can't a portrait catch a few winks now and... Rune! Oh, sorry, didn't see ya down there." Zool glanced at the old man. "Don't know you, so you get what you deserve," he said with a smirk. "Oh Zool be nice!" scolded Rune. "This is... this is Josh. Josh just came through the window. He was a bird, and then he was smoking and choking but he gave that up and he's all better after I gave him some water and cheese because he says the grubs and worms weren't at all satisfactory and he's a good friend of mine and we really need your help so will ya, huh?" Zool followed this calmly, then said, "What?" "What the child means to say," interjected Josh, back to his regal tone, "Is that I have come from afar in search of something which may not interest anyone else at all, but is very precious to me. Rune seems to think you may have some information of it's whereabouts, I think..." Josh looked sideways down at Rune, having had the sudden realization he was talking to a painting, looking, no less, for rare and desirable information. Rune looked back with calm satisfaction. She seemed to carry every confidence in the painting. Zool thought for a moment. Though the processes inside his painted skull were only representations, they were very well oiled. "I see," he said. "What is it you seek?" "I seek information on the wherabouts of the firebird of paradise." Zool looked to the heavens, fingers to chin. Josh and Rune stood silent. The great clock that stood near the door ticked, then tocked slowly, ominously, then it ponderously gonged the hour. Zool thought. Rune and Josh stood. The clock ticked. Planets turned in their orbits as the stars swung through the night sky. Zool thought. Rune fell into a nearby chair and went to sleep. Joshes feet fell asleep, first one, then the other. Zool thought. Clouds scurried hurriedly from mountain to mountain as the moon ambled from horizon to horizon. Rune dreamed. Josh stoically waited, trembling. Zool thought. Josh fell over with a crash just as the first rays of the sunrise slipped through the shutters of the enormous room. "What was that!" cried Zool, startled, waking Rune in turn. Rune jumped up, ready to go. Seeing Josh on the floor, she shook him awake. Groggily, he ratcheted himself to his feet. "Oh," said Zool apologetically, "It's you guys, you're still here. I forgot all aobut you - was thinking about something else entirely. I'm sorry." "But..." gasped Josh, huge purple bags under his eyes, "But... Do you know... about the firebird of paradise?" "Of course. Well, I know the local legend, anyways. Everyone does." Josh said nothing for a moment. Resignedly, he looked first to Rune, then back at Zool. "And what is the legend?" he asked simply. "Well, word is, if you go way down in the catacombs of the Pen, below even the sealed off lower levels, through to the deepest part of the maze, there is a sealed chamber. It is stone and cement, you know, pit and pendulum like." Zool paused. "Yes...?" urged Josh. Well, carved into the stone, the entire width of the doorway, is a representation of a firebird of paradise. Zool paused again, dramatically. "And...?" urged Josh again. "And? What do you mean 'And?'? That's the legend. If you want to know more, you will have to go and look, though there is mention of a curse of horrible mysterious death to those who enter the chamber - but I'm sure that's all a bunch of silly nonsense - DON'T YOU?" Zool leared down with as menacing of a look as he could muster. "Oh, don't be so melodramatic Zool - but thanks for your help! Bye now!" Rune waved as she spun and dragged Josh along with her. "Erk, weren't you scared, just a little? I was pretty frightening, wasn't I? Err, bye now - good luck! Have fun! Watch out for the curse!" Zool kept waving, even though they had already gone out, Rune skipping, and Josh abysmally, as though he were exhausted and his feet really, really hurt.

Grimacing, the man pulled his hand to his chest and messaged it feebly with the other. "Wa..." he started, but a cough hacked it off. "Yes? Yes what is it?" asked Rune. "Wa..." he started again, but this time it caught in his throat of it's own accord. "Wa - wa - wass up?" guessed Rune, trying to be of any help after her crushing embarresment. "Just you, at the moment. Well you were, before you fell over..." "Wa... water!" gasped the man hoarsely. "Oh! Right!" She immediately spun around and retrieved a tall glass of water. Kneeling down she helped him to drink the glass, well over half of which he managed to drink. "Thanks you," he said after three more glasses. "That is much better, thank you" He was sitting up now, his breathing easier. Runes concern was declining, but in it's place was rising a strong curiosity. "What are you doing here, and why were you a bird? Where did all the smoke come from?

jumps into the patch of :wigglycabbage: :wigglycabbage: :wigglycabbage: :wigglycabbage: :wigglycabbage: ...and starts to do the macarena. Will there be no end to the madness!!! Dance magical creatures, dance!

LOL Kas!

"Ya know rubber chickens can be wiggly. If you wiggle them..." "Heh heh heh..." *The rubber chicken bites Zool. Fortunately, it's made of rubber.* "Ouch! You silly chicken! That smarts, even though you're just made of rubber!" The rubber chicken swung his bulbous rubber head around in a powerful ark, *THWAPP*ing Zool to the side of his large painting, giving him room to wiggle. A funky beat began to thump in the background, which the rubber chicken wiggled to with authority. Watching the rubber chicken do the wiggle dance, Zool got an idea - due in no small part, no doubt, to the smarting of the rubber chicken's bite with the added smarting of his severe THWAPPing. "Hey, I have an idea," remarked Zool, with a suitably thoughtful gaze. "What would happen if I crossed a wiggly cabbage with a rubber chicken?" "I DON'T KNOW, WHAT WOULD HAPPEN IF YOU CROSSED A WIGGLY CABBAGE WITH A RUBBER CHICKEN, " shouted the gallery audience." "I'm not sure," said Zool, "But the eggs from it would sell like hotcakes on Easter, and be real easy to find." Zool runs into the background of his portrait as it is pelted with rotten fruit, produce and eggs. He is able to escape serious soiling, but not so his painting. Ah well, all's well that eggs well...

*Zool doesn't answer, just keeps staring at the cabages...*

Well Pered, when the lease is up, the lease is up - time to move on to begger digs. Ah yes - the blackness. Cause of so much frenetic empty 'doing'. Very Good PR05, it appears you gathered the courage to shine a flashlight in that blackness and illuminate your own fear - and the opening to the dark halls beyond. Keep going.

Good to see you around J. :woot:

OH MY GAWD! WIGGLY CABAGES!! *Zool shrieks and runs for his life - in place, of course.*

I find that very offensive Vlad. (Ha! J/K )

I have done some over email, but mostly it's just forum posting RP. That's all I've ever done. I've never been a gamer. As a kid, I found even RISK over my head. "Lemme get this straight. You decide the ownership of entire continents by the roll of a dice?"