Katzaniel

How does one photocopy a pirate ship, exactly? Or, because typos can be funny, a pirate's hip? Maybe pirates have a weird sense of humour - instead of mooning the photocopier, they lie sideways on it... Yarrrr, yesterday your Yankee yokel yeilded your yttrium yacht, yet yonder yellowbelly yeoman yammers yes? (Sorry, I got carried away a bit...)

Well, it's nearly the end of January, and the circle is less than halfway full. Not that I am placing blame, mind you... if I had done my own piece, we'd be at 4/7 instead of 3/7. However, I'm posting this as a bit of a reminder, and also to give credit to those who are done: TOLL ???? POLL FOIL PALL FAIL ???? Cheers! EDIT: 5/7

Tanny, Erylin can be Lady D'Ander's maid, if you wish ... but the stipulation would be that the kind of person Lady D'Ander is, she wouldn't think much of anyone not noble-born, and she doesn't think easily in shades of grey. I'm guessing from your position as a lady-in-waiting that she would see Erylin as not noble-born, which would mean that she wouldn't gossip with her - but she would gossip to her. Thus, if Erylin does act as a counsellor for Lady D'Ander, she would do it by cleverly making Lady D'Ander think that Erylin's ideas were actually hers. (PS, I didn't answer your PM because I didn't know the answer, and planned to find out for you).

I, too, shall have to sit this one out. University is tightening its rein on me. Take heart, though; this is my last semester!

Lady Yvonne D'Ander Lady D'Ander is was you might call a man-izer. 25, single, and very very pretty, she is usually surrounded by young men trying to court her, and will giggle at the slightest provocation. She isn't exactly stupid, but she doesn't encourage intelligent conversation, either. She'd much rather talk about the newest fashions, or who won last night's horse race - or gossip about who kidnapped the princess.

The rumours were growing stronger and stronger. Karen was sitting at her window, watching as everyone passed by, knowing that they were talking about her. Her mother, in the kitchen, dropped a spoon - Karen jumped a foot in the air when it clattered to the ground. "No!" she shouted to no one in particular. She stood up, glanced around. "I can't stand this any more," she whispered hoarsely, and rushed from the house. "Karen?" came her mother's voice, worried and confused. The woman came out, wiping cookie batter from her hands onto her apron. "Oh, why can't that girl just settle down like all the other girls?" she regretted aloud. "She'd be much happier if she did." Her daughter, meanwhile, had rushed to the bar, where she found Lillen and some others gathered. "It's her," she heard someone say. "She did it," answered another. "Wait!" Karen wailed. "Wait, please wait. It's wrong, you're all wrong!" "Can you prove it?" said a patron, someone she'd known all her life. "How can we really trust what you say? You're so calm, all the time... It's uncanny." "I've always been like that," the girl whined. "You all know me, I've always been this calm." The statement was ironic, considering how at this point her eyes were wide, her nostrils flared, and she was looking first one way and then another, never letting her eyes settle in one place. A crowd was forming. No one's intention was to block the young woman in, but that's what was happening, and that's what she percieved. "No, wait, just wait," she said frantically. Gingerly, she pulled the note from her pocket and waved it at the group. "Look," she said. "Look, see. I just want you all to know, whatever happens, you must listen to this. It's true, it's all true, what's in here." She fell into a coughing fit, then. "No," she whispered, "Okay, it's a lie, one thing is a lie. But I can't tell her that, can I? What would she think, knowing that I love him so much more?" Karen grabbed the nearest person. "You won't tell her, will you? I do love her, I just ... I just don't ... just not quite so much. And how could she grieve for me, knowing that? It would destroy her. Please don't say anything!" The man nodded frantically until Karen released his collar, then backed away a few steps. Karen seemed to forget then that everyone was there. She stood, eyes glazed, glancing around the room, breathing heavily, not moving. OOC: I don't see as how it will make a difference, but I have decided I'm going to try changing my vote to Panther

"I didn't mean for her to die," sighed Karen to herself. "She was acting strange, though." The young student had spent the last day carrying around the note in her pocket. The stress of the situation was showing on her, in little ways: Eyes slightly wider than normal, a tendency to be spooked easily, and, probably the only change that anybody noticed, she would sometimes abruptly say something out loud to herself, whether she was in a crowded room or thought herself alone. She clenched her eyes shut for a moment. "I was wrong before, and poor Annie has paid for it," she whispered. "And yet I find myself suspecting again, so soon ... why can't I just pretend it's not happening, like so many of the others?" OOC: Azuran / Tsal

Jealous jackels just jilted Jason's jinxed jam jar. (Bah - when you get this far, it gets really hard not to use names!)

Karen sat by her window, peering out at everyone she had known since she was a little girl. In front of her lay a piece of paper, which she was going to some effort to conceal from either of her parents whenever they walked by, though that didn't happen often. Her father had left some time ago for work, and her mother was baking something in her favourite room of the house. "Dear Mom and Dad," Karen had written. "Three days have passed and the Werebeast is not yet caught. Even if I should survive that, I have been catching bits of rumours that implicate me in the recent killings. I do not know how to protect myself from the Werebeast, nor do I know what I can say to convince these people of my innocence; I suppose they are uncomfortable with someone like myself, who is logic over emotion, who saw her share of blood before the age of ten and got over the fear of it then, someone who has been exposed to countless pictures of wounds, diseases, and dead bodies, not to mention a few actual cadavers, in the past year and a half. I guess it makes me look suspicious, but I cannot change who I am. At any rate, with what happened to the others accused befor me, and with each night a new victim, you can understand that I have little hope of surviving this ordeal. "I guess why I am writing this, is to say goodbye to you. Look, I love you both. I always have. I know I have a funny way of showing it, but you mean the world to me." She went on for a bit in this vein, before adding, "Also, please, if I do die, I want you to make sure my body goes to science. When all of this blows over, and the winter ends, make sure whatever parts of me that can be used, are. I hope my death is not too hard on you ... I know it's foolish to say it, but it's true. Please get over me as quickly as you can, and get on to other things." The young girl signed the note and then looked at it for a long while before carefully folding it and placing it in her pocket. OOC: Same vote, obviously.

Yeah, I was wondering about that. And don't they send those by mail? Open? Like, I could go around to my neighbours and collect all their cards. There isn't even a picture on them. Or a mention of hair colour, or eye colour, or height. I could go all over the *city* and collect those from people's mailboxes. And then I'd be in 4 ridings. In fact, you could gather 10 friends from all different ridings, ie cities too, and then each of you gathers 10 cards, and you'd each only have to fake-vote once per riding. If you were willing to risk being recognized, or could gather more friends, you could do more. Bleh.

Oh, yeah, I wasn't saying that. Had a good chat with Celes last election about the Bloc, so I understand that now. PS. You all voted yet? (Well, okay, Canid told me she did. Did you, Tyrion?)

* wonders whether, if Annie gets a bunch of votes this time, we couldn't extend the day phase a bit * It would give her a chance to defend herself; I doubt anyone would mind a couple of days; and besides, I don't want people not voting for her for the OOC reason that they'd feel bad about it! *grin* (Which, BTW, if we don't extend it, I *will* feel bad.) Oh, and you've got my permission on that story-version as well.

I doubt it... but point conceded anyway. The thing is (as yourself, a Green-Party supporter, is well aware), in order to get a party recognized as whatever-exactly-it's-recognized-as (do you know the name? But basically what I mean is that it gets media coverage and, I believe, some sort of funding) it needs to first get a certain number of seats. This is good, in that it keeps spontaneous and ill-defined parties from cluttering up the political debates, especially when they have seats in only a few ridings. But it also means that parties like the Green Party, which I would not call spontaneous or ill-defined, get less recognition than the Bloc Quebecois, for whom people in say, Saskatchewan don't even have the option to vote. As a voter in Saskatchewan, I would want to see debates that leave out Gilles Duceppe (although I like the man and he spices up the debates) and put in a Green Party candidate. Um, anyway, what I'm saying is that I don't see 15 parties happening any time before they change those rules. PS. I am not saying that the Bloc shouldn't have federal status... that's a whole other can of worms that I'm really not sure anymore how I feel about.

When weird worms wiggle, wait with wanderlust.

Nothing has changed? Oh, but dear Canid. Haven't you seen the polls? Much as I'd love to disbelieve them, they clearly show that, unless thousands of undecideds freak out at the prospect and go vote, we're heading for a Conservative government. Possibly a majority. I'm not even sure that the system is flawed; I agree that elections cost us tonnes of money, but if a party can't get anything done, doesn't that cost us more (if not financially)? *sigh* I actually saw Stephen Harper in a one-to-one interview, and he stood up well. The party seems to have thought things through this time, has a complete platform with some very good ideas, and seems in earnest about many of their promises. (Well, they seem in earnest about them all, but I'm reading between the lines here). I'm just absolutely flabbergasted and terrified that he wants to, and thinks he legally can, take us backwards on the gay marriage issue. If it weren't for that ... well, I wouldn't be happy about this, but I wouldn't be so frightened. PS. I like our anthem but perhaps if I'm feeling creative or inspired I'll join in on the rewriting.

"Granny Jammeez?" Karen repeated when she found out, "But ... Granny Jammeez? Who would want to kill Granny? I knew her ... we all knew her ... she was just a nice old lady! She was related to half the people in this town! I ... I was going to go see her again today! Who would ... who ... Granny!?!" For the first time, Karen was visibly shaken. Not much, of course, but her skin had gone a little pale, and her right hand was twitching a bit. "I was supposed to be back at the school," she spluttered. She paused, taking deep breaths. Every once in a while she murmured, "Who?" Finally, she went silent, and then a moment later spoke again. "I can only suspect the same person I did yesterday. In fact, this latest murder might be more evidence against her: The person who knew Granny least, the person who looked angry at her yesterday. Father told me that Granny stopped Annie from seeing the body, yesterday morning, and Annie hates not getting what she wants." Karen shook her head. "I just wish she wasn't such a little girl." OOC: Vote for Annie / Sweetcherrie

Ooh, ooh, I'll play. I never can stop from signing on to these sorts of things. Very curious how exactly it will work, too.

Karen wandered around town for a bit, clearly not wanting to go home, but not sure where to go. "I never did like that girl," she muttered. "A werewolf, though? It's hard to picture such a little girl - but then she never liked being thought of as little, did she?" The young girl paced. Toward the tavern, then away again. "No one would believe me. But Granny Jammeez was here when it happened the first time; she knows more than any of us. Unless it's Granny herself... but I don't think so. I wonder how one becomes a Werebeast, anyway? I mean, Granny's been around for years, what would cause this all of a sudden? Annie is young, but then again, the first ones weren't children, were they? I don't remember enough about the stories. I should have gone in, asked more questions. Too late now. It'd be silly to go back. And Annie's there... I can't just ask questions like that with her there, she's too smart. So should I tell anyone? We wouldn't want people reacting like they did yesterday, that's for sure. But we could lock her up. If the police believe me. Which they won't. But she's just as suspicious as Tsal - I can see her killing things just out of curiosity. She's always gotten everything she wanted, done everything she wanted." A number of people passed her while she was talking, and most gave sideways glances at the monologue, but despite Karen's apparent indecision about whether to do or say anything, many wandered away thinking about her words. Finally, she stopped pacing, and stopped talking. "It doesn't matter if I'm right, does it?" she said, finally. "No one will believe me." And she went home.

Karen walked up the path of the house and knocked. While she waited, she was surprised to hear Annie's voice inside. "Just a minute, dear. Let me grab the door," came Granny's own voice, just before she opened it. "I... uh, I had a question for you, Granny." "Well well, come in then, dear. Annie, do you mind if Karen comes in for a moment? I've already got a pot of hot chocolate on, child, would you like some? I've been wanting to talk to you about a boy I think you'd simply adore." Karen glanced inside and saw Annie. She had never liked the girl, but she really wanted to speak to Granny Jammeez. On the other hand, she wasn't particularly looking forward to being matched, either. "Nono, I only had one question. I don't want to interrupt anything." "Well, what is it then, child?" "When the werewolves were here before - I heard you were there - did you learn much about them? Like, when they turn werebeast, do they remember being human?" The old woman hesitated, and glanced thoughtfully at the child inside the house. She answered slowly, "The Were remembers, though it is unclear whether they retain the bloodthirst in human form. I suspect it depends on the person’s... er... natural disposition... if you know what I mean." Karen glanced at Annie, too. "Yes... yes, I think I do." Her brows furrowed. Finally she nodded. "Yes, and I think I agree with what you're saying." She thanked Granny and bid her farewell, then walked down the drive, thinking hard. OOC: Vote for Annie / Sweetcherrie PS. The RP in this post was co-written with Jammeez and discussed with Sweetcherrie

Karen shook her head. "It's not surprising. We all knew that poor Adam was not the killer. Of course there is another death. One by one, or two by two, we'll all die eventually." "Karen!" said her father, who was visibly shaken. "How can you be so uncaring about it?" "I do care," she replied. "Inside, I'm a turmoil, scared and confused. But I can't help being what I am. It's always been hard for me to show emotion." "You don't sound confused," chimed in her mother, from the kitchen, sounding worried. "I'm trying to figure out who it could be," she answered, closing her eyes momentarily. "I keep coming back to Tsal, but it's just a guess. No one knows. No one can know. It's frustrating. I can't think of anyone who would have a grudge against both those people, or anything... I don't know, does a werebeast remember itself when it becomes a beast? Should there be a rhyme or reason?" Karen paused, then nodded once, decisively. "I'm going to go see Granny Jammeez. She was alive during the first attack. Perhaps she can shed some light on that." Leaving her concerned parents behind, Karen took off down the street.

"Who knows what she has been through since she went away?" Cedric murmured. "How coldly she reacted to it all..." Karen glanced up. "I guess I must appear suspicious, too. But this isn't the first time I've seen a human body, and it's far from the first time I've been killing and blood. I can't help that none of this is new to me." OOC: Same vote.

*snorts in the midst of a giggle* Um, Capable carpenters continually carry carven chairs.

Like most of the rest of the town, Karen was drawn to the site by the screams of those who were first seeing the body. Being accustomed to blood since childhood, and human bodies (if mainly in photographs) since starting med school, Karen didn't gasp or scream when she saw it. She actually stepped a little closer. "He didn't die right away," she said quietly. "Those punctures wouldn't be enough to kill him. Whoever did it wasn't used to killing, or didn't care if he died." Her words brought more fearful chatter from the onlookers. A haunted voice shouted out. "Werebeasts... and not brought out because they're hungry or needing to kill... werebeasts who are out only for the joy of the hunt!" Others agreed. "We must stop it, or it will hunt again!" Karen nodded, and gulped. She watched for a while, seemingly memorizing the pattern of wounds. "I don't see how it could be the hunter; he would have killed the poor man quickly, probably snapped his neck or cut him through the heart. Instincts like that die hard. I don't think it was even the bartender, either; his main reason for killing someone would probably be to have the person dead. The only person I can see that might want to wound a man this far and leave him for dead would be Tsal... he spends all his time in those woods, just watching people." Karen paused and shuddered. "He's probably wondering what we'd look like dead." OOC: Vote for Tsal / Azuran

A "feature" of the new version of the boards is that if you reply within some time frame (about 10 minutes, I think), and no one else has posted, it appends it to your original post. Wait a bit and post again, and you should be fine. (Scary that the character limit is that easily reached, though.. I thought it was higher.) As for not deleting... I *think* that only mods can delete the first post in a thread, because it deletes the thread. I think. PS. I'm not sure if Quincunx meant her story to count (she mentioned it being just a skeleton of the story, I think) but she did post something, just so you know.

Karen sighed as she watched the snow falling outside. She had sat in this very window many a time when she was younger, waiting for her father to come home. Her mother didn't like it when Karen helped him out in the butchering yard, or even the store, though she had managed to sneak away sometimes. And when it snowed, it meant that her father would be able to stay home, and that had always made Karen happy. But it wasn't making her happy now. Now it was preventing her from going back to university. The 19 year old was training to be a doctor. Everyone in the village, it seemed, disapproved. But less than they disapproved of the idea of her following her father's footsteps, so this is the way it would be. Karen, unlike her mother, thought that a woman should be able to support herself, even if she did decide to marry. But this whole town was backwards. Susan, a girl that she knew but had never been close to, was being forced to marry an old man. At least her own mother wasn't that crazy. But since Karen had come home for winter break and been trapped here by the weather, her parents had both been very joyful. Her father, she knew, was happy because he would get to see her more, and he was trying for her sake to be sober about it. Her mother, on the other hand, was clearly happy not because Karen was home, but because she wasn't at the university. As she stared out at the snow, mind turning to thoughts of a test she would be writing if she could get back in a couple of weeks, Karen heard her mother working in the kitchen. That's where a woman belonged, apparently... but if she kept sitting there, she'd be called in to help shortly. She cast around for anything else she could be doing, but finally just resigned herself to her mother's company and joined her in the kitchen.