Peredhil

We'll never know It seemed as if he saw her everywhere. In the mornings getting out of her parent's car. Getting on or off the bus. In the hallways. Worst of all, in his history class. Like now. He was nearly hypnotized by the shimmer of the slanted sun playing with her golden hair. Amber really. Like old amber, not yellow, not gold, but dark and rich and natural with the odd streaked highlights she'd had since childhood. He'd used to tease her about her touseled hair, which could never stay combed and straight, but never made obedient curls. Now his eyes would loop and lose themselves trying to trace the colors. When she bowed her head to write notes, her hair fell like a curtain of honey to hide her face. Only the gentle curve of a cheek's shadow on the veil played peek-a-boo with his sight. He couldn't seem to see her face enough. He kept trying to trace the lines, put together the pieces, determine just what about her kept his eye fixed. There were other girls, and a few of the teachers who were fair more beautiful than she. He heard enough about them from the guys, and he made the appropriate responses, but all the while her face was in his mind. In his dreams, he was Lancelot to her Gwen. He was Columbus to her Isabella. He would be happening to walk along just in time to save her from a hundred disasters and inconveniences. Her smile was always reward enough, he'd wake himself in outrage if it became something as coarse as a television show or movie. He was in love with Love, and she was its form. He was inspired to a thousand stories and poems and she was his Muse. He never told her. He didn't talk to her, expect to respond with a hello. They graduated and he cheered her as she walked across the stage, neither first nor last. And he didn't see her again for ten years, although he saw her in every woman who caught his eye, in every sunset he wished she was there to share, in every dream of every night. Older, fitted into the groove of life and making its daily round about to begin again, she remained the shining light of his heart, his might-have-been, his what-if-we-met might be dream. When his reunion came, he bought the ticket, paid in advance for the dinner, and looked through deadly annuals and listened to deadlier music, pierced a thousand times by the past and relishing how it hurt so good. On the day to fly, he stood at the airport, looked at the lines, and went home. He received the email from the organizers, sorry you couldn't make it and hope to see you at the twentieth. The event album was inclosed as he'd paid and he saw her again. She was more beautiful than he'd dreams, had matured into her face. He was bitterly happy he hadn't gone. His heart ached and poured out words. Being honest in himself, he realized he'd chosen the inspiration of a fantasy over the chance of reality ruining it all. Thus does love of Love make a coward of the poet, and inspire a thousand words of regret.

YAY! Pounces and huggles all the promotees!

Behind Blind Eyes, Thank you for making Arwen so happy. I’d say your eyes aren’t blind at all. I appreciate the supportiveness and patience you’ve shown to someone I love. -Peredhil ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Belizean, Dude! I’m close to retirement and you’ve got me considering Belize as an option. We’ve come a long way since the S.o.Bs, I see you at The Reincarnation, but not nearly enough here at the Pen! -Peredhil ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Bhurin, I really miss your sweeping poetry. You were able to carry off a nobility in both writing and Role Playing that amazed me. It seems like everyone I’ve read from Crystal Tides was good, but you were on of the best. Hope you’re doing well. -Peredhil ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Black, Heh, you were a terrible God-Moder when I first read you on the Archmage UBB. Now you’re a pleasure to read, working with others to build the best story instead of competing against them for ego. It’s a delight to see someone grow and mature before my very eyes, without losing their love and joy of life. -Peredhil ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Black Caged Heart, Your poety showed a familiarity with lonliness that’s always made me want to hug you. It was also pretty good. But amazingly, as so many lonely people don’t do, you would comment supportively on other’s pieces as well. I appreciate your willingness to give to others when still feeling like your emptiness needs filling. *hugs* -Peredhil ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Blondemoon, Thank you for the greatest of heart you showed in forgiving me, when you were still in the depths of pain. I think I’ll just say I hope you get to swim with sharks, and hug you. -Peredhil ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Boaz, Brother Bard, explorer of life, friend. We never talk as much together as I’d want to, but each conversation with you is a memorable gem. You should post more, because you’re much better than you’ll believe. -Peredhil ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Brute, You unshaven lovable alcoholic you! Beloved of Melba the Almost Secretary of the Pen. But more seriously, a very good Role Player who taught many of us that it can be fun to be the butt of the joke – and much harder to do well. And it was impressive that you owned your items but they didn’t own you. Your giving up the Decanter of Endless Booze to a writing contest inspired many events after. -Peredhil ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Gratitude Hospital Visits, where aseptic stench cloys nostrils, This is a utilitarian place without luxury frills. Free to flee the pain of wrecked bodies at last, Exiting thoughts, only counting how fast. A glance through a doorway seizes my eye, It's a golden-haired girl across a bed that I spy. She lies on the bed where two legs should be, but legless and only one arm has her Daddy. He looks up at the door and gives me a smile Inviting me in to chat for a while. I ask the soldier how this came to be, "Blown off", he replies, "by an I.E.D." "How's she taking it," I quizzically ask. "Let's ask her," says he, interrupting her task. "Well, my Daddy's hurt bad and has come to bad harm, "But God left him his writing and his hugging arm. "And now I'm here to give him his help daily," She concluded with a nod, and kissed him gaily. "And so," he said, "you can clearly see" "There are few men still living, luckier than me." My eyes were blurring I'm not shamed to say, As I walked away from that room where they lay. As far as dues go, they were still paying their fees-- with prayers, 'cause Mommy is still overseas.

ROTFLOL!

The little flying sprite So wonderfully swift General's the blue mage's armies And is generally quite miffed.

I've only time for the "A"s! But there are so many here to whom I have things to say, I'm not just stopping with two letters! Consider the rest after the first two to be free - as love should be. Aardvark, Your stories are amazing. You engage all the senses, and although often rage-filled, your characters are very believable. You’re one of the few who writes non-fantasy here, and does it well. Every time I read one of your short stories, it inspires me to try to write one of my own. Unfortunately, I don’t know how to only write a little! I think you’re a source of pleasure reading and inspiration for more than just me. Thank you for posting. -Peredhil ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Alaeha, I really appreciate your willingness to get involved and support the Pen. You have original ideas that unfortunately, like your Quill Quest idea, just fall through not because of you, but because of Pen apathy. Don’t give up. Your willingness to share your knowledge (sonnets and little feets anyone?) is something the Pen needs for growth, to balance it’s “nurturing” side. -Peredhil ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Alzorath, I wish you could find your way here more. I know you see yourself more as a warrior than a writer, but instead of LotWR, I think you should think Japanese, where they could be one and the same. The times you do share of your view point and life experience, it’s always a cleansing wind that cuts through foggy thinking. -Peredhil ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Andrea Hawk, I miss you Hon’. I can understand why you don’t drop by anymore, but I felt you’d won a place here of your own. The heart of poetry is that it expresses the heart. No matter how skilled and polished the words, if some shred of heart isn’t there, it is sterile. That’s why, in my opinion, I’ve never read a good computer generated poem. All this is say that I felt you had heart and passion in your words, and that the Pen was a place you could learn the skills. Thank you for the time you did grace us. -Peredhil ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Annael, What can I say? You’re a Rae of light, a heart of gold. Endlessly supportive and giving, fiercely protective of friends. Forgiving and patient, and not a fallen angel, but just a tarnished one. The tarnish, I don’t think you realize, is from taking on other’s heavy burdens and trying to carry them yourself. -Peredhil ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Appy! As a fellow mood-swinger I relate to so many of the things you say all too well. Your bravery in being honest is an inspiration. I should tell you – when you write, you *always* make sense to me, even when you think you mightn’t. Thank you for some of the IRC chats we’ve had. I can always count on you for support and an honest opinion. -Peredhil ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Arwen, As my daughter, I’ve shared my heart with you enough times, that a love letter is a formality. It’s still nice to say it in print occasionally though: I’m proud of the woman you’re growing into. -Peredhil ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Ashton Blades, Heh, I know you well in Real Life, and so I *know* you have more talents to show than just your free-style thread! I don’t see you enough in my house; you should hit the boards more often! -Peredhil ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Ayshela, I think I’ll send this one PM… ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Pip (Autumn Sun), The one time I got to meet you in person, at Damon Inferel’s graduation, you and the others were pretty quiet. But that doesn’t mean I didn’t notice you. I know that with Damon’s absence, a part of your heart has gone away from the Pen, but some of us still miss you. Your haunt was the Conservatory, and rightly so – you RPed well. -Peredhil ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Signe strutted through the Carnival daintly. When the path became muddy, one of her accompanying Boy Toys gladly lay his body down for her to cross, that she might not get her stilleto-heeled boots dirty. It was a social occasion, not work or play, so the Succubus didn't carry a cat-o-nine tails or any other tools of the taming trade. Occasionally she flashed a fanged smile through pouty crimson lips, just to stay in practice in stunning males. Like flowers following the sun, men watched her helplessly as she made her way through the crowd, until her twitching tail disappeared from view in the crowd. Abruptly she stopped. A *large* Golem blocked the path, lifting kegs and crushing them above its mouth. At its feet, Minta played and stomped, and built palisades. Even in its rampage, the Golem was careful not to disturb the innocently amoral little girl. The mana crystals and sugar coating its hide glittered sparkly in the sunlight, making it look rather pretty. A Dwarven skellie was sitting dejectedly in the large muddy area around the guzzling Golem, looking forlornly at all that lovely liquor going down someone else's throat. As the Golem turned for another casket of Bruteweiser ™, Signe saw something intriguing. All that alcoholic mana-crystalled Golem was decidedly male... Picking her way around to the far side of the majority of the mud, wings outstretched for balance, she slipped up behind the growing Golem. "Hey Sailor, know where a girl could get a drink in this pig-stye?" The Golem let loose a burbly belch, tossed the empty contain (and a great deal of mud) off to the side, and turned to loom over the diminuative demonette. She suddenly glowed, dazzling, feminitity unbounded and fathomless. Her eyes gave promise of a boozy binge bender without hangovers, her luscious lips lured like the finest liquors. As the Golem helplessly swayed forward, lower... When her wings opened from in front of her again, the Golem was gone. Wiping a bit of mud from her mouth, burping most ladylike, Signe licked her lips languidly. At the sight of her pink tongue, the Dwarven skellie suddenly felt the overwhelming desire to locate his female skeleton counterpart, and wandered in search of her. With a snap of her fingers, her Boy Toys were in attendence, wiping any mud or dirt that clung to her form with trembling fingertips. Turning, she continued on her way. A little mana buzz never hurt any demonette... That there was more sway to her walk than usual, she was unaware. Imbibing spirits was second nature to her, but usually they weren't 200 proof mana. Written with Signe's permission, 'cause she's busy.

Guido nibbled on his salad, testing, tasting the various parts. His large brown eyes grew even larger and he pulled out ten geld with one paw (while waving the other paw in a fending off gesture in Wyvern's general direction). Handing the money to Pedro, he shook his head wordlessly and went back to eating.

With a smile of familiarity at hearing so many of his thoughts reflected back to him, abet from a different slant, Elladan considered the woman before him. Moving carefully, scuffing his feet just the smallest bit, He slipped up behind her, and very gently slipped his arms around her. Moving carefully, never with a surprise, he carefully smoothed her hair up and over a shoulder, baring the nape of her neck and one ear. Letting a casual trail of kisses ignite fire from the point where the hair just turns into flesh, along the hairline to the ear, he mouthed the words more than uttering them "I think Dad would think you should get more for a Twenty Geld donation." Turning her gently, he led her to the booth, he didn't bother drawing the curtain. Instead with a wave of his hand, a writhing shimmering veil of ropey power provided privacy - and when he handed her the Key with a wry twist of his lips, the warmth and power of it sent tiny shocks up her arm, raising the echoes of his kisses a moment before. Tilting her face up toward hers, He gazed down at her with fathomlessly deep eyes. Like Peredhil's, like the Dreamer's, his eyes were pools of color without whites. 'Dan's were full of many emotions and none. Moving in agonizingly slow motion, his hand slid down her body and drew a knife from its sheath. His eyes were enormous, locked on hers, as he slid the blade's edge across her face, the razor's edge so close she felt its chill, knew its honed edge for it was hers. Her breathing quickened, she was suddenly aware of the way the air moved in and out, the feel of her clothes touching her skin, the pulse of blood in her throat, under the razor's edge. This was Elladan, who understood. This was Peredhil's son. But being who she was, knowing what he was, there was a frission of fear mixed with an awareness of the fragility of life, the feeling of being a tiny bird held cupped in a powerful hand. Leaning over the knife, the cold steel separating their throats, his lips brushed hers lightly, simultaneously as she felt the touch of steel against her neck. A spasm of feeling, too complex to be broken into all its myriad components, shook her from head to curling toes. She felt a heated liquid which rapidly cooled send three drops sliding down her throat. With a movement too fast for a human to follow, he sheathed her blade. She stood, still frozen, as he lifted the key from her limp grasp and Opened the veil. As he turned with a raised eyebrow, wordlessly asking if she'd received her money's worth she saw it. There was a small nick on his neck. Before he'd pressed the blade, he'd reversed the steel so that the only cut was his.

Guido stalked through the Carnival looking for Nuncio until he heard "free food." Making his way into the Concert area, he fumbled through his pockets until he found enough money to pay the entry fee. To his dismay, he found Wyvern there before him. Wyvern was to free food as a fire is to gasoline. "Would it be possible to get a lettuce, carrot, parsley, cabbage, turnip, alfalfa, dandelion salad? I t'ink I could chow down on dat."

Else where Peredhil struggled toward the Pen, but the minions of Real Life clutched him with thousands of small pinchers. If he could just get time to focus on any single one, he'd squish it. They seemed to come in waves, in categories almost. Invisible even to his sight, they could be identified by their effects. Most numerous buzzing about him were the Cares. Feelings of failure whenever he let himself be too tired to help with homework, or cook a meal, or work that extra hour at work. No matter how much he did do to meet his Responsibilities, the Cares would buzz into his ears a message of failure and lack. Then there were the Guilts. Mostly Should based, they condemned viciously. Should've done this. Shouldn't have done that. If I'd only, if I hadn't. He was pretty good at resisting those, but when worn down, they had to be each rejected with an act of will or an affirmation. The Failures were predominant of late. Not quite responsibilities, these were worth-based. I've failed my friends, I've failed my guilds, I'd be a failure if I ask for help when they're going through so much. In the past, the Prides had been a problem, but they were pernicious and clever. He no longer feared asking for help making him look weak, and he had no issues with needing everyone's approval, only those who mattered. For years, letting his enemies or selfish friends set his own value had been a doormat people pleasing trap, but he'd escaped with help. But the Prides never gave up. There was Pride of failure - refusing to try because of possible failure - and Pride of humility, never accepting compliments for it meant he could fall or set up expectations. Real Life had many arrows to its bow, and all of them seemed to revolve around fear, guilt, worry, and doubt. They isolated. With a lunge he activated the Silver Ring. ~~~~ Peredhil's form sparkled like an old Star Trek episode, phasing in and out, visiting each group but unable to stabilize, until he was sucked by into Real Life with the approach of a New Priority Deadline. A Guilt fastened unnoticed like a leech on the back of his neck, and began injecting its own special poison. He was failing Annael, she was already taken away, he should try harder, over and over again.... Thousands of ants, each one small, each one sapping only a tiny bit of energy. Each one when brought out and confronted, melting in reason like snow in a furnace. But so many...

Oh! Thy bushy tail! Oh! Thy rodent teeth! Oh! Thy flirting ways, With you I have a beef. You've driven my dog to distraction! You've sat out on the snow. You've waited patiently while she leapt at the door Pretending she had to "go". You'd measured the distance nicely You had it measured to a "T" You sat there, sitting smugly. I opened the door - you didn't flee. With a bound the dog was loose! You snickered laughter and twitched your nose. You knew the snowdrift would support you, You planned it all, I suppose. One hop and a barking leap! The look on my Lilly's face! As her body into the snow did sink, Short of your waiting form - a scant pace. Your arrogance was monumental, Standing there on the snow outside the gate. You actually *nosed* my dog's whining head! Then scampered off, off - at leisurely rate. I'll admit I was convulsed with laughter, This round you'd definitely completely won. I guess if you're winter insomnia strikes, Baiting dogs would be much fun. Oh! You clever little devil! Oh! You really are so bold! Oh! My dog is sick and sneezing! Oh! You've given her a cold!

After exploring the booth for a bit, noting the curtained alcove for the shy, he explored under the counter. Nuncio had forgotten his statuette in his haste to leave. Elladan touched and realized it wasn't magically made and was suddenly impressed. He located the small latrine which Father always placed in his shops and booths. He watched the people going by. He watched Wyvern's booth for a few minutes, smiling at how the most insane things seemed to happen in the most logical ways. He mused on the Armies he'd recruit when he returned to Peredhil's lands in the world of Reincarnation. He spent a while sharpening various small objects. When he found himself honing a paperclip to the point it shaved the back of his hand, he realized he had a problem. He wasn't getting any business. He was rather bored. Looking out at the crowd, he looked for someone he could trust not to over react. ~~~ Seeing Wren walking along, bright eyes filled with laughter, black hair streaming and bouncing with gleaming life, he narrowed his eyes thoughtfully. Soft lips begging to be tasted, gentle curves making small circular gravity defying journeys of their own, graceful hands. Yes, she'd do nicely. ~~~ As she came up to the booth, he saw the flash of disappointment that it wasn't his father waiting to bestow kisses. That was fine, she was here. Stepping around the counter, he took her hand and kissed the palm, then the inside of her wrist, sensing the living pulse under his lips and vibrating a slight counterpoint with his breath. She stopped in surprise as planned. He let his lips gently brush the suddenly raised hairs topping the goosebumps running up her arm, then tilted his face to look up at her, fire glowing deeply in his eyes. "May I please kiss you," he purred. Not waiting for an answer he drew her into his arms and began a kiss. Gently, then as her lips softened, a bit more insistent. Her hands waved for a moment, as if unsure whether to push him away in outrage at his bold assumption, but after a long moment she found herself winding them in his silky hair on the back of his head. Her eyes were closed, he noted, soft eyelashes fluttering slightly against the creamy skin. His eyes widened a little as he felt the almost electrical current that swept back and forth between them, and which crackled away in green streamers to ground against the wood of the booth. He'd forgotten she was magical. Interested now, he let his senses merge with hers and truly kissed her. Their bodies began to glow as his arms crushed against his lean muscled length. Elves were often deceptive in their power. When they finally broke for air, they were both speechless for a moment. His eyes twinkled merrily, while hers had parted only enough to show a smoky fire burning. He started to say someone, what he couldn't recall later, for she answered his question. ~~~~ Wren's Response Elladan's unexpected forwardness was startling but not so much as the reaction her magic had to his kiss. She looked at him for only a second at the end of his knee melting, ground shaking kiss and decided to try it again purple eyes gone smoky and magic still spilling from her she leant forward and kissed back,her fingers still wound tightly in his hair. For those who could see the magic changed colours to match her eyes and those who couldn't and were close enough felt like they too had been well kissed. This Kiss didn't last as long but was just as sweet. Wren released Elladan slowly then pulled the errant magic back and they both floated back down neither realizing that their feet had left the ground. With a smile and a giggle Wren emptied her purse into to the box. "Don't stay in the booth too long. You will bankrupt me."

Elldan stepped quietly through a Portal into the rear of the booth, and immediately performed a mental perimeter check. With no immediate threats found, he set a few passive Wards against dangers and accidents of various sorts and moved out behind Guido, who was glowering at the crowds. Not seeing Nuncio, he began smiling, sensing a score in their long rivalry. Glancing over at the next booth, he hastily set more protections against mischance; what had possessed Nuncio and Guido to set up next to WYVERN?! A minor augery determined they hadn't been possessed, it was Dain's doing. Stepping up beside Guido, 'Dan softly said, You can go find your brother now. Guido convulsively screamed and had a gun drawn by the time his shoes hit the ground again. Sliding the gun back into his sleeve, Guido glared at the smaller smiling Elf. Would youse make more NOISE when youse sneaks up on a body?! Elladan just smiled and looked out at the crowd. Still grumbling, Guido strode away in the opposite direction of the mana Golem, intent on finding Nuncio.

Peredhil sat at Lady Celes' Cafe sipping ice water, happily recovering. What a romp! Yin-Yin's guitar riffs reminded him of something... something... TRAVIS' Concert! Popping up and searching down the nice waiter to give their tip to them, he ambled off to the Courtyard. Paying his ten geld, he was in such a happy mood that he gave Travis another ten. Here's for me, and for the next person as well, When they pay, they're paying on down the line. A Festival opportunity to give while receiving is so fine. If you don't want to advertise that, I'll never tell. With a wink, he accepted his ticket and confirmed the time the performance would start, then headed away to check on his Kissing Booth and ensure some last minute responsibilities when met.

What a little gem. Glad it bumped up; I missed it the first time.

Well, Nuncio and me, weese likes to do the holiday t'ings. Da Boss gets all sad and stuff on holidays, on accounts of his wife not being dere. But I likes ta put up a tree, and decorates it nice like, wit' lil' shiny balls and flashy lights and lil' baskets holdin' lil' sparkly candles too. Nunce makes deese strings of popcorn, see, wit' needle an' t'read and strings dem all 'round da tree in circles, like, but not buddered popcorn 'cause it makes da kernals squishy 'n' yeller. Weese takes da stuff OUT ta da tree, weese doan cuts da tree down 'cause dat upsets Elrohir somet'in fierce youse see. Anyways, when da dec'ratin's all done, Nunce scadders heapsa seeds around fer da little cridders, and den we sing songs from da old land. Why? Well, when weese was back in our world, workin' for da Fairy Godfadder, he useta tell us deese stories, right? When he wassa younker, he worked fer dis Elf makin' toys and t'ings, dat dis Elf would gives out ta people. He was a slick yeggman, casin' da joints and slippin' in true da cracks and down chimblies and grills and t'ings like dat. So we starts da tree t'ing to make Da Godfadder happy, and it was kinda fun. Oh, right. Yeah, Nunce is right. We gives away all da stuff we ain't usin' from last year to peoples, which clears out da closet 'causes Da Boss travels light, see? And workin' fer him, youse gotta be ready to move like a shot from a gat. And we try to make some lil' t'ing dat don't cost much and give it to someone. See deese cufflinks here? Elldan gives dem to me two years ago. I doan know whats dey made of, but dere really nice and I ain't lost dem yet. And dat's what me and my brudder do for da holiday.

Occasionally looking around warily for Guido, Nuncio strolled the booths happily. He loved carnivals and things like that, ever since The Boss had had to disguise everyone as a Traveling Act to make it through the Baronies. He still remembered the fun he'd had with the kids with "Pet the Giant Hamster!" That he'd felt naked without his suit, and that he wasn't a hamster didn't matter. The kids didn't know a hampster from a guinea pig, and most of them called him a rabbit or hare, but their eyes had shown anyway. It had been all he could do not to talk to them. Of course, being burnt at the stake if lucky had been good incentive to resist. Seeing the new booth, he headed over to it. A Piniata! Wow, that was a cultural tradition from one of The Boss's favorite worlds! Although a leather sack would be hard to break. Bet Guido could do it though. At the thought, he looked around to make sure Guido wasn't sneaking up on him. He smiled blissfully at the thought of Guido fuming in the Kissing Booth. Guido hadn't enjoyed the Traveling Act. Putting his Five Geld down, he picked up the stick. "I'll take a whack at it, Miss." As she turned, he was momentariliy startled, then smiled widely. "What a lovely look for you! You might consider Peredhil's Kissing Booth - I'm sure Guido would love to mix whiskers with such a pretty face!" Without further ado, he wound up his nearly 300 pounds into a might swing and released it in a sharp strike. No one could hear his mental dialogue.... It's Nuncio at the bat. He's winding up, and it looks like he's going for the fence in Center Field. The crowd are on their feet. Here comes the pitch.... Listen to that crack! It's going, it's goi- Nuncio was abruptly jarred out of his fantasy by kitten screeches and howls of pain from the sack. "What are those SOUNDS?!

Peredhil keeps up the Conga Beat smiling as others join the fun. dut-dut-dut-dut. dut. KICK! It's a very resistable spell actually - it only lures in those who love other Pen members and can still be young at heart. Should be interesting to see who wanders by to look and resists the spell...

Isis' sacred symbol, Pentacle pathed planet, Half-light's beacon to love, Gird me with your might! Gazing up at mystic light, Through scope at sight above, Payingthe ones who ran it, Inclined rigid tube on gimbal.

Faces ruefully smiling, the Guild Leaders follow Peredhil from the Meeting Room in a shuffling line, hands on the hips of the one before them. dut-dut-dut-dut. dut. KICK! Peredhil, Gwaihir, Ozymandias, Katzaniel and the rest, they all are dancing in a Conga Line. dut-dut-dut-dut. dut. KICK! As they approach, you can hear Peredhil singing, "Why-can't-we-be-friend, UH!" totally butchering the old song. But somehow it's irrestible. You feel yourself drawn to the joyous dance. Peredhil's love for his Pen people is like a bow-wave sucking everyone in... dut-dut-dut-dut. dut. KICK! "Come-and-join-the-fun...KICK!"

From inkwell to page, Heart's blood flows black on white - Life's instrument writes.

While Nuncio sat stunned, Guido repeatedly wiped his lips. "I told youse bums dat dis wassa Bad Idea, but Noooo. Da Boss and da boys and da knuckle-head known as my brudder just had to have a kissin' boot'. Guido... I'm afraid. Guido immediately stood and helped his brother up. "Nunce? W'as 'rong? Nunce? Youse okay," he asked anxiously. "Guido... Guido... I actually liked that toward the end." Guido dropped Nuncio in disgust. Nuncio began laughing, and reached over and seized something from behind his statuette. "Hey Guid'..." As Guido turned back around to yell at Nuncio for having "got" him, Nuncio pegged him in the puss with his stored snowball. By the time Guido cleared his eyes, Nuncio had disappeared around the corner. It was a fuming Guido who realized he was trapped. Da Boss had said to man the booth. That meant both couldn't be gone at once. He hoped Elladan arrived soon. With a frown, he began plotting his turn in the brother's eternal war to "get" one another.

Joel's toothy grin fades into the heavenly music and the ministry hour is over. Time for B.E.T. to get back to its more usual programming. The voice-over begins in Barry White timbered tones... Upcoming are the ten hottest Hip-Hop artists to ever get the low-down on the down-low. Coming out from behind their buxom big-butt video babes, they give the inner secret introductions to the symbolic rap-sheets in the video's big units and packages. But first, the local channel feed, five minutes of every hour. While rhythm-nation-wide viewers are whisked away to frolic and play at the end of their Sunday with the local hip-hop cats and b-boys doing flares up and down the stairs -- But the local channel at the Pen points it's video writing appurtances to a poignant plea for understanding between you and me, right here on B.E.T... Doing it PEN-styleeee. Yes, it's a Jade opportunity for the jaded to read her poetry right here, only on Pen B.E.T.