Peredhil

The Pigs thrust to their feet, raising their glasses high. "DA PEN!", "THE PEN!" Chorused their voices. Peredhil had fallen asleep, worn out by his musing labors.

Actually in a way, that's a good catch. I tend to have a bad habit of writing on multiple levels. Even worse, when I'm writing or talking to/for someone else, I don't listen to myself - one reason I love the Pen and it's feedback. It forces me to reexamine what I've done. I realized a long time ago that being the Internet Uncle or Papa Peredhil, I'd be opening up my heart and love to people who needed to be loved. The thing is, once people heal, and grow, they strike out on their own - and as it should be, they leave surrogate parents (or real ones) behind as they deal with the immediacy and issues of living and life. If I'm truly loving someone, I won't make them dependent on me, or guilty at not thinking of me. The flip side of giving love freely and not expecting a "pay-back" is that people move on and out, and I often don't see what happens. I love the anticipation of seeing into what a person will grow, what type of flower with which they blossom, or the fulfillment into reality of potentials I knew they had but they had to be to believe. Often though, I don't see the results once they've outgrown the need for my support. That's a good thing - but sometimes leads to wistful thoughts.

Heh, "who will she do" is *not* what I had intended! The coda works better when sung in my mind, because of a tempo change to set it off.

With coltish grace and energy she prances to the music she hears with inner ears; She listens to hear her Muse as she breaks into dance and dances on breaks - She's full of life: the world she takes on in her own course and way. She's now unknown but who tells the future what to be, who knows the coming day? Through reddish hair see flashing eyes of humor so smart. What will she do? Who will she be? Anticipation, we'll wait and see. Smart and funny yes but her smile hides a temper that defends her friends; Warm heart and hands, wise eyes and quick tongue to comment on life's idiocy - She knows she's eternal, one of God's young girls but she's living full and free. It's the simple things that are complex and she's a puzzle to me. Blue eyes play hide-n-seek and her lightning smile will shock the world. What will she be? Who will she be? Anticipation, we'll wait and see. Youth's a budding flower trembling on the edge wanting to burst on out on life. A hidden promise unfolding slowly unrushed in growing at perfect pace. What will she be? What will she do? Anticipation, until she's through.

Elrohir comes in and stands, smiling, until the Half-Elf isn't too busy. Moving forward, he waits patiently in the line of congratulations until he faces the legendary Elder. "Hi, "he stammers, blushing. He always grew somewhat self-conscious around Gyrfalcon. When he finally grew up, he wanted to be like the Demi-god before him. "uh, happy birthday. Anyway, uh, here!" He hands Gyrfalcon an Almost-Dragonic ™ Brand Katana Cleaning Kit and backs away, bumping accidently into whomever was behind him gracelessly. Blushing, he made it to the door. "Well, that went better than I'd hoped. "

Untangling themselves from Peredhil, Guido and Nuncio were standing in time to hear the announcement. Immediately they started cheering and stomping their wingtip shoes. "Youse guys all rock!!!" At their feet, Peredhil caught his breath and crawled up into his chair, applauding lightly as he wrestled with his own verse. "Mira was a poet and his award did show it, he called on his Muse and she cut loose like a moose." He sighed and sunk deeply into contemplation yet again. Time was running out.

At the sudden explosive noises, Guido and Nuncio sat up straight. "Just sneezing," Nuncio grunted. Then the thunder of an explosion shook the room. So it was that Peredhil found himself on the floor under six-hundred pounds of protective Bodyguards with drawn guns. Reflexes you know. And so it was that Peredhil missed the sight of Crow-boy and Crow-girl in flight. Tangled together, spinning out of the kitchen and arcing over the heads of the crowd, moving at great speed, having been ejected from the pot as if from a cannon. Which was a pity, because his Muse was amused and all sorts of circus analogies swirled around her, unable to reach the Elf trying to breathe at the bottom of his protective pile.

you could always stay and help others by commenting on what they've done, and how it makes you feel. I know I have little time to actually write any more, but no one seems to hate me hanging around. That seems to be true for everyone - we're a family, not a job. Two busted QQ? And? *hugs* something will click for you. Having been Muse-Abandoned before, I know that I can't force creativity to meet my own goals. The more I stress and try, the further She retreats. You're still welcome here. And since when would typos disqualify you? A spelling/grammar checker can catch those - but no computer can speak from the heart. unfinished stories! I think the *only* one I have finished is the co-authored one with Zool and Yui-chan (and she was the closer!) You can take time off if you want of course. But those reasons? It sounds like you need to be with those who like and love you even more than ever until you can not be so hard on yourself. *hugs* -Peredhil's two cents

bells. Guido's whiskers twitched in rhythm to the soft start and stop of the tinkling chimes. bells. Nuncio blinked at the sweet sound wafting through the air, pure and light, rising above the shuffle of feet and clamor of noise. bells. Peredhil raised his face from his hands, an odd look in his normally complacent grey eyes. The bells. The odd start stop of the sound make them hard to follow. Made them seductively intent, straining to hear their joyous tinkle and clap strike up, then silence. Nuncio began doodling with a claw on the table top. Guido followed a sudden urge to visit the male's room. Peredhil began to twitch when the bells started, head swiveling like a radar dish back and forth, only to lose them as they drifted randomly about the crowd, weaving their chime amidst the Slam scene sound. The distracting bells! Pure joyous sound, a gift of love to life, singing of hope and warm heart. Peredhil's fingers twitched in the motions of a spell of silence, but even now he was too Polite to cast without definite target. The hellish bells! How they doth pierce the ears of one straining to hear their Muse! ()

LOL. Saint Wyvern trumps them all.

Peredhil sat stretched out in his chair, shoulders and buttocks touch and long legs crossed at the ankle. He looked a bit like a board leaning against a carpenter's angle as he stared at the ceiling. "Purple ostriches in flight, the slammers visual delight..." Nuncio absently corrected as he strained to hear the performers, "Ostriches don't fly Boss. " He started as Guido kicked him. The masterful almost Dragonic snoring ceased as Wyvern awoke in a panic. In its absence it was revealed that the several Elder Dwarves snored in a chord of octave ecstacy, from the profoundly bass Barry-Whitish Sexy's snore all the way up the scale. "How can I trust when you've set the stage You talked of love but taught me rage The lies were reality; I believed your word It was alway my fault - I felt like a turd You can't break a heart when the mind is shattered I'll have my fish with vinegar and chips - fresh plattered --" He broke off and gnashed his teeth. "Youse nearly had da start dere Boss, but tripped comin' outta da shute. Dat don't make you happy?" Guido carefully turned back to watch the judges after receiving a Look.

Personally, as Peredhil is so sociopathic, I really enjoyed this one.

Happy Birthday!

It's just really funny to me - Doctor Evil could've written this response! http://www.okcupid.com/tests/take?testid=4741219933576750506 written by saint_gasoline You are the Hippie! Characterized by a strong sense of extroversion, irrationality, gentleness, and humility, you no doubt frolic through fields preaching peace and love to all! You are probably either very spiritual or needlessly paranoid about "the man", like most hippies, as a result of your focus on intuition and feelings over cold, brutal logic. You are also very, very social. And like any hippie, who would have no qualms about hitchiking across the country just to meet some interesting people, you too love to interact with others, even complete strangers. Because we know most any hippie is peace-loving and humble, it stands to reason that you, as well, are terribly gentle and humble, almost to the point of revulsion. Your carefree attitude of peace and harmony is probably very, very sickening to realists or cynics or anyone who isn't a hippie, to tell the truth. In short, your personality is defective because you are overly emotional, extroverted, gentle, and humble--thus making you an annoying hippie. And you listen to psychadelic rock and smoke a whole lot of pot. Okay, maybe not, but I wouldn't be surprised if you did.

Happy birthday Kitty.

Matzo balls! Both Bodyguards stopped and looked at Peredhil, who immediately sagged in his chair again with a sigh. Okay, a slam poem on matzo balls and bagels is reaching. Guido and Nuncio nodded slowly. Looking at Mynx bustling by, the Bard blinked. "Strix Varia. Hooters." "Boss..." said Nuncio warningly, thinking, "Peredhil really must be out of it to comment so openly!" "Also known as the Swamp Owl, Hoot Owl, Eight hooter, and Le Chat-huant du Nord. The common frequently miscall them the Bard Owl. What a clever kitty, a visual pun." Peredhil moaned again. "She's so clever to comment without a word, and I'm left without a clue what to do, my muse is reluctant and unwilling and I'm without persuasion!" He subsided into deep thought once more, allowing the Guinea Pigs to turn back to the show.

(ooc: Gratz!)

Pillbury Doughboy and family seek revenge...

That captures much of the ennui and futility of the original. Reminds me of reading Camus. Good stuff.

*hugs* I'll celebrate your birthday. I just wish you were here to share it.

Wow. This is very well written. The tough part is living up to it!

(wow. that's good feedback. you can give me feedback any day!)

Guido and Nuncio looked at Peredhil in fascination. Their Boss was literally pulling out his hair. It regrew instantly, so shiny black that at times it seemed silver in moonlight or red in firelight, but the small pile on the table was increasing "Think! Think! Think!" Moaned Peredhil, for once at a loss for words. Nuncio tore his troubled gaze away as Guido digged an elbow into his ribs. "Hey Nunce... It's dat Crowguy. And da hooters have quit bruisin' Wyve and are back wit' da Mynx." Nuncio winced. "Guido... you know that cats and owls are our natural predators. Why can't you just leave them alone.?" "Heh," Guido chortled. "Youse know what da 24 Stone Guinea Pig said to da cat?" "We don't do stones any more..." "Alright already. Da 148 kilo Guinea Pig den!" "Why can't use just use pounds?" "A pound is currency, not weight." "But it can be both." "Argh! DO YOU KNOW WHAT THE BIG MUSCULAR GUINEA PIG SAID TO THE CAT!" "Of course, 'here kitty kitty kitty'. That's so old its moldy. Why can you just say what you mean? You never could tell a joke." They quit bickering for a moment to watch Peredhil pull on his ears and scrinch his eyes tightly. "He's really hard up for da Muse juice, ain't he?" "Yes, I hope he finds something to emote. Round one is complete already."

You know my heart for you. I'm guilty of phone call as well. *hugs and doesn't let go* PereDad

As a soldier, I can appreciate the theme. It's all too true. Maybe it was me, but the meter seemed a bit rough in places.