Katzaniel

Please note the edit (in red) of my original post. Thank you.

* laughs and laughs * That makes two games where I was the only "innocent" victim! (The first vote occurred before roles were assigned, so I can sort of claim that...)

It seems ironic somehow that a poem so perfectly conceived and metered, so without fault, is written against perfectionism. Yui, your even lines, wonderful rhymes and relatable themes have struck again - the piece is beautiful. Two comments I may as well make while I'm here, though. The first is one that is unlikely to have any real solution, but I thought I'd point out anyway: The word "detail" interupts the flow for anyone who is used to pronouncing it "DEE-tail" and not "deh-TAIL". Secondly, and more important to me at least, the line: "A life spent hunting unicorns will only find defeat." It seemed irrelevant to the topic at hand, very different from the rest of the points you made.. and it seemed so very wrong. A life spent hunting a fairy tale creature is a life lived for the moment, a life that gives way to dreams over the mundane, and allows a person to live, regardless of whether they are eventually defeated. Perhaps you meant it in a sort of "sarcastic" way, to get the point across a different way? Anyway, that's my take on it... though it seems really weird to be critiquing a poem on perfection. Edit: Upon another read, I discover that "unicorns" must be an analogy to perfection... right? It still seems an odd comparison, though. "Hunting unicorns" sounds to me like a motivational poster saying for things you should spend your life doing, not a warning.

Orlan is a sorcerer who is best described by the words "Confident", "Sexy", "Arrogant", "Realistic", and "Dependable". An Eternal appearing as a human, Orlan chooses his appearance but his Sexiness is above and beyond that. Orlan is tall, lean and well-toned with black hair, shaven face and eyes that change colour. His dress depends on the occasion but is most often either a big black cloak or a well-tailored suit. The general impression of anyone seeing him is usually "What a sexy sexy man." He appears arrogant to others but is still able to see himself from the outside in. Orlan was a Man of Terra, a long time ago, and that's where the title Sexy Sexy Man came from. He was an Archmage for a while, just for the enjoyment and the interaction with other fun people. Orlan is a Priest of the Great God and Pharaoh Nanotoknonnen, SuperMummy, which is a long story that involves a lot of beer and laziness. Now he resides in the Pen, going where things are interesting and fun. Orlan has shapeshifting and illusion magic. Like a manifestation of willpower, whatever Orlan thinks he can do, he can. He is something that has always been and will always be, uncaring about the overall flow of mankind, Orlan lives only to enjoy life, have fun, spend time with people and laugh. He would rather crack a joke and avoid seriousness altogether. ----------------------------------------------------- So you wanna be a guinea pig? I haven't read your character description yet, if you have one. * QQKatz goes to check I actually don't so you don't have to worry At least I'm pretty sure I don't Excellent! * QQKatz rubs hands. Okay, first order of business, do you mind if I copy this interview into a post somewhere and have it linked from the main description for anyone who wants to read it all? Not at all. You want me to respond in 1st or 3rd person? It's your choice. Some questions might not lend themselves to 1st though. k I mean, I'd only get what your char thought of themselves, not what they really are... ...but it would be a lot more interesting, and I'd learn a lot more, if you answered in 1st, if only occasionally. We'll wing it and you can ask for more if you want. Okay. You are my first, so I intend to think of more questions as we go. Second order of business would be which characters do you want done? Do you just have the one? I had a few a long time ago but it's just Orlan Alright then.. let's start with Orlan #:] If you had only 1 or 2 nouns to describe Orlan, which ones would you use? Confidently Sexy I knew you'd get around to that.. but those are more like adjectives. You get 3-5 adjectives later #:] lol Nouns then? hmm I mean, like "ranger", "tigertaur"... that's tougher then it looks Sorcerer is about as close as I'd get Okay. And his race is "Man", right? He's not human in any sense of the word other then appearance and mannerisims Ah. So does he have a race? I'd say "Eternal" For the layman... that's a spirit, right? Close enough description. Okay. So why does he want to appear human? It's more fun to be a human And people also treat you better And to the average observer, he's just like a human? He's solid? Yup Does he always appear as the same man? Yes Does he have an obvious "country"? I guess this would depend on time period.. but I mean like, French or Scottish, y'know. Accent and clothing and stuff. No obvious country, no. So the general impression of anyone seeing him is just "What a sexy sexy man." Of course. Is he tall? Thin? Facial hair? Or does the sexiness drive away all other thoughts? #:] lol, tall, lean, no facial hair. Black hair, eyes change color alot. Heh.. so a clue to his otherworldliness does remain. * OrlanBED winks IC question: Have you ever met anyone who didn't appreciate your sexiness, who (God forbid) may have had other tastes? Appreciation is something that rarely comes from the jealous. I get respect from it alot. Though it's not really something I can control, I just am. But people are invited to have thier own opinions....even be they wrong Okay.. now I'm ready for those adjectives. Do you still want to use "confident" and "sexy"? Confident, Sexy, Arrogant, Realistic and Dependable would be a good 5 Arrogant *and* Realistic? Please explain the apparent inconsistency. Arrogant is how other see me and I'd definately adopted that to myself. Realistic because I can look from the outside in. So you act arrogant, even though you're able to see beyond that? Good way to look at it Okay... My next point of interest is what sort of stuff he usually wears. I guess I should move the adjectives down in my list, since I'm still on physical description. lol, no prob What I wear depends on the occasion but most often it's either a big black cloak or a well tailored suit. Nary a person alive who dosen't look good in a well tailored suit. . . Brief interlude . Heh... finally just read your last answer.. Women don't always look good in well-tailored suits. I beg to differ But that's just my own taste Alright. #:] Next question, then, is pretty encompassing, so feel free to break it down. I'm wondering about the "history" of your character. What are the major events that have shaped him? Possibly, when did he first decide to take the appearance of a man? hmm, Orlan's always just "been" so it's hard to find a history. Orlan's a Man of Terra, which was from a rather long time ago, so that's where the Title Sexy Sexy Man came from. He was an Archmage for a while, just for the enjoyment and the interaction with other fun people. Orlan is a Priest of the Great God and Pharaoh Nanotoknonnen, SuperMummy, which is another long story that involves alot of beer and laziness. That brings to present time with the Pen. Orlan goes where things are interesting and fun I think that I may just quote you directly there. "Orlan is a Priest of the Great God and Pharaoh Nanotoknonnen, SuperMummy, which is another long story that involves alot of beer and laziness." Definitely deserves quoting. So he had the same appearace during all of this? Yup Can he change appearance if he wanted? Sure, but does not often So he chose to be sexy? No, he just happens to *be* sexy So what can he change? Full range. Shapeshifting and Illusion magic are apart of his skill set. But he can't stop being sexy? If he tried REALLY hard.....maybe So it's sort of something in his manner, more than his looks? Sexy is more then looks. Usually you need the looks too though. It dosen't hurt Is he well-muscled? Not really. More just lean. Okay. But does lean imply muscles or not? I don't mean like bulging muscles, I mean like firm and well-formed. Lean is more well-toned. Not extra meat, just a good use of what's there Okay. So the sexy kind of muscled #:] lol yup Now, you mentioned skills... * QQKatz adds this to her list Can you expand on that? Whatever Orlan thinks he can do, he can do. Sorta like a manifestion of willpower This is common to Eternals? Orlan's never met anyone akin to himself before. And Eternal is not something like a group or a race....it just is what Orlan "is" Think something that's always been and will always be....but dosen't really care about the overall flow of mankind....like a negligent uncle God I think maybe I was thinking "infernal". Yes, I think I understand. You put it well there, if you don't mind me quoting you again, I just may. Not at all I had one last thing that I wanted to be sure to cover, though I think I've got a pretty good idea by now what the answer will be. What is Orlan's goal in life? Fun. Just fun. Orlan enjoys like, he wants to have fun, spend time with fun people and laugh and not really care about it all. Excellent. Anything else you want to say to the masses? Anything anyone should know before, for example, they try RPing you? lol, RPing Orlan is hard for most people, I've been told. Orlan would rather crack a joke and avoid the entire seriousness rather then react seriously. Serious is not something Orlan does often. That's hard to do apparently Hmm. I'd never thought about that. I can see how it would be hard while trying to get something done... heh. Orlan's an Uber-Man, and most people get upset when you RP a character like that. I like Orlan so I never put him in a serious RPG Complete and utter control over everything and anything makes RPing useless in the normal sense. So Orlan stays in fun RPGs Ah, godmoding. And never really gets overly involved Yup I guess when you're Uncle God that might be a problem #:] Orlan's beyond Godmoding. So I never play Orlan in a serious role So.. I think that about covers it. "That's a wrap", or so they say. heh The difficult part will be cutting this down to one paragraph. lol Good luck with that Orlan is anything but terse All right. I'll probably PM you if I think of anything else.

Gwaihir is a verdant magician who can best be described by the words "clumsy", "peacemaker", "plant-loving" and "spacey". He is a relatively young elf. He has brownish messy hair, blue eyes, thin build, and even for an elf is somewhat tall. He usually wears mismatched clothing, often covered in sap, paint, holes, and tape. Gwaihir's mother died when he was young, so he grew up with a father who was just as spacey as himself. He got a love of plants from his father, and was apprenticed to a nature magician who taught him most of what he now knows about the plant world. For a while he wandered around but he was constantly getting hurt and having foolish problems. When he found the Pen, he was happy, because it's a sheltered place where he can belong. He has the ability to talk to plants and makes things grow. Most of his skills are related to verdant magic, and though he has some other magical abilities, Gwaihir can only relate to peaceful minds, like that of a deer. He only particularly enjoys talking to plants. He is good with people when they can ignore his clumsy mannerisms, and tends to be patient, a peacemaker. Gwaihir also likes to write; he plays well the part of the spacey poet. Quiet and looking only for a way to express himself, he is usually too shy to show people the things he writes. Gwaihir does not carry any items, for he constantly loses what he does try to carry. Gwaihir's goal in life is to learn everything there is to know about the vegetable world. ----------------------------------------------------- Do you want to try doing it now? sure Okay, first I need the full name, your race and gender. You're one of the reasons I needed to add the gender question #:] lol Gwaihir elf male lemme look up last name Okay, and if you had one noun that best describes you, what would it be? It's allowed to be the same as your race if you want. And you get 3-5 adjectives later. clumsy (That's an adjective, just making sure you realize...) I'm looking for a general "Gwaihir is a ... who ..... " way to start the thing. ohh point missed the 'noun'part of that 'verdant magician' Pfft. I guess I can use that. Although you're cheating #:] * NoGwaHere bows and grins Oh, do you have an age? no last name it turns out, though I can make one up if it'd help Nah. age age age, not really young but not Very would be early 30s in human years or late 20s That's how old he appears? Physical Appearance is next. So clothing, hair, eyes, height, build, scars or other important features. brownish messy hair missmatched, clothing that shows it's owner does Not pay it any attention..covered in sap, paint etc and has holes in a couple places even taped together relatively tall even for an elf blue eyes Build? relatively skinny Okay. Does Gwaihir have a history? Just the high points of what brought him to where he is. mother died young, so he grew up with his dad who was just as spacey as he was and at some point he was apprenticed to a nature magician who taught him most of what he knows about plants. The love of them, however, comes from his dad After a while of wandering around and constantl getting hurt/having foolish problems, Gwai found the pen it's a sheltered place where he belongs happily Hm. How about skills/ items? talks to plants, makes things grow etc, beyond verdant magic ....well, some other magic, but Gwaihir can only relate to peaceful minds, he can't relate to attacking or killing, can communicate with deer but not tigers for instance. ONnly particularly enjoys talking to plants though. A distinct lack of all practical skills writes somewhat good with people...if they can ignore his spacey, clumsy manner patient, peacemaker no items he loses them constantly He writes? yeah, but he's too shy to show people usually sometimes in support of the pen Hm. Interesting. #:] It just sounded different from the rest of what I know of him. This is going pretty quickly. Just a few more official questions. well, he's the spacey poet Before I forget, do you mind if I post this interview? not particularly talented but he's a quiet fellow so he likes to express himself not at all And you get 3-5 adjectives. Did you want to use "clumsy"? wha'ts the last thing you got? You get 3-5 adjectives. Did you want to use "clumsy"? That's all you missed. clumsy peacemaker plant-loving spacey Awesome. Here's the "one more" point #:] What's your life goal? Aim? Motivation for living, if you will. To know Everything about the vegetable world Alright. Anything else that you think needs to be said? hmm...honestly Gwaihir is rather a comic character so I wager he's somewhat less complex (and interesting) than some people's I can't think of anything that's been left out though Oh, he's interesting enough. Less complex I'll give you. If I think of anything else I need, I'll PM you. Meanwhile, thanks! yays

DOUBLE EDIT: As per this explanation, this thread is really very out of date and you should stop reading now to avoid confusing yourself. No, I am not even near done yet... but I have interviewed enough people to begin writing the actual descriptions now. My plan is to post the descriptions and, for those giving permission, the interviews too, in this thread, and then the creators of the characters will hopefully copy & paste what I post into their own thread. I encourage editting, as only the authors themselves can truly know what's most important about their own characters... for the same reason, I find myself quoting directly from the words of the interviewees more often than not. Anyway, please feel free to edit what I've done, and also please post the interview and description in two different threads. I'll come by and add a link from one to the other, but for what I'm planning with the Piazza I'd like everything to have its own thread, with titles as follows: "CharacterName - Brief Description" and "CharacterName - Interview", subtitles can be up to you. Thanks all! EDIT: As many of you may already know, I was not sure until now how we were going to use this forum (as per the "Pseudo-Poll" thread). I figured it was easier to instruct separate threads and put them together if needed than vice versa... anyway, what I'd like now is for this to be part of your own character thread. Instructions will be put up if you need help with that.

Victoria nods silently with almost everything Tom says. "I agree with you. Staying together is our best hope. But I do think we need food of some sort."

"I think you're taking too big of a risk, sir. If three go, three may be accosted and killed, and leave the rest of us that much more susceptible. You have a good point, that the lighthouse itself might be trapped, but if that is the case, there are probably traps everywhere. Can't we just check for them before stepping anywhere?" "We cannot check every step, milady. Certainly we will be careful, especially moving into the lighthouse, but surely you can see that nine people in the open in the dark is too large a target, more risky than three." Victoria hangs her head. "Perhaps. I wish there were a third way, but there isn't. My own opinion is that we shouldn't split up, ever again, but I can see the wisdom in your thoughts too." "If we are to stay behind," she continues almost without pause, "we should gather what we need from our own rooms and meet in either Mr. William's or Miss Adelaide's room, for they are the largest, and only the bedrooms have bathrooms.... On the other hand, someone should collect food from the kitchens. Miss Anna, you have the best knowledge of the house itself. Perhaps you should stay and help with that instead?"

A tigertaur is standing outside the door, looking intently at the human. Tanuchan has seen Katzaniel around the keep before, so is not surprised. "Good luck, human," she laughs, not recognizing Tanny for the wolf that is relatively new to the place. "I'm not sure whether she does this intentionally or not... it's certainly hard to tell what she expects from us, though." "Yes," agrees the shapechanger. She then gestures away, not wanting to have this conversation right outside Scarlot's door. "You have also applied?" The human and tigertaur make their way to the Confessional, chatting about what to expect from Scarlot. "So, what's your name?" asks Katzaniel, and Tanuchan introduces herself, explaining about being a shapechanger. "I am one, too," grins Katz, "or at least I can change into this shape or any type of cat. There's a bit of a story there, but I'll save it for another day." Tanny nods. "Like they always say, 'Everyone has a story if only you ask.'" Katzaniel lets out a bellowing laugh. "It's truer here than anywhere else, I find. It's one of the things I love about this place." They sit for a while longer, sipping their drinks. "I wonder where Scarlot will send us, for our first challenge. I hear there's another applicant, too. Perhaps we should go find him and make aquaintance?" OOC: I figured this was a good opportunity for our characters to meet.

While Luke and Anna are discussing what to do next, Victoria makes her way to the edge of the balcony. She leans, apparently fighting with the urge to empty her stomach. Gagging a little, she steadies herself, and stands again. She holds up her champagne glass, already sipped a few times, and hurls it into the night. "I have never sought death in my life," she breathes. "Like any other person, I am ready to accept the inevitable deaths that occur. Accidents, they are hard to get over, but that's what one must do. Murder... that's another thing. Mr. Kant has brought us here to pick us off, one by one. That much is obvious, he virtually told us that himself." Victoria turns and looks Tom right in the eye. "Don't go, Tom. None of us should leave, for Mr. Kant is somewhere in the manor, and unless we go all together, I am certain he will make sure that we do not rejoin." "We need to get to the lighthouse," begins Luke, still calm. "Then we must all go," returns Victoria, cutting him off. Her voice has grown harsh but her eyes are weary. "We must all go together. And please, nobody take another sip from their glass."

* Stupidly echoes Morbid Angel's thoughts. * I enjoyed the piece. It was refreshingly unique, the style fit well. One "critical" bit of feedback is that I think it would do better with an exclamation point on the final line, "MOVING HOUSE!" I just think it would end it on a different, more exuberant note. Your call of course.

Tom's strong arms wrap around her and slowly Victoria stops shaking. Head still buried in her hands, she murmurs, "Why would he want to bring back those memories, Tom?" The others, in varied states of shock, disbelief, outrage or denial, passively witness the conversation. "He's a liar and a scroundrel," he says, patting her shoulder, "But I don't know what he's trying to do to us." "The mechanism broke," said Victoria blankly, rising and returning Tom's embrace. "They fell. The blood, everywhere. Their skis at odd angles in the snow. It's still so vivid, after so many years. I thought I had managed to get over it, Tom. I thought I could finally get on with my life." Her voice cracks, and she grips him harder, burying her face in his chest.

"They've called us all together with regards to mistakes, accidents, and self defense?" hissed Victoria. "Yes, my husband is dead, and probably this other man too. He died on the 15th anniversary of our marriage, in a skiing accident. And they have the gumption to bring it up, remind me of it??" Victoria kneels and hangs her head. Holding her hands to her face, she begins to shake violently, the perfect portrayal of silent anguish.

~Main Characters~ Katzaniel Horace Inbi Infusco Someday I may add a personal bio. Meanwhile, my ~List of Works~.

Prejudice My grandmother is healthier than she was when I last saw her a few weeks ago. This time she laughs and plays, teasing the other residents and accepting my mother's offer to help her put on some lipstick. Although well over eighty, she had always looked her best, and it had been the hardest sign of her deteriorating health when she'd stopped brushing her hair and putting on her makeup. However, the doctors caution that this is not a full blown recovery but rather a peak in the never-again predictable cycle that is this dear lady's heath. One of the women at her table is gone since last time. My grandmother takes well the absence of the ever-cheerful Emily, and of course no one mentions her, but it must be difficult to live with the constant fear of losing new friends and the frequent reminder that death waits for all of us. The new resident sits at another table, chatting with her tablemate. After lunch, six of the female residents decide to take advantage of the beautiful sun, setting up a circle of chairs just inside the shade. Before we can meet them, my grandmother must go to the bathroom. Desiring to skip this now complex ritual, I opt to wait in the entranceway, chirping at the two birds in their cage by the window. The newest lady, sitting nearby, calls out unintelligibly. I cannot understand more than the occasional word, although I try. I barely look at her, but when I make out what sounds like the words, "I am a native American! I will fight for my culture," I begin to worry that she is talking to me. I know that I cannot catch enough of her words to communicate with her, though, so I smile politely and then just try to ignore her. When my mother and grandmother return, we go outside and enjoy the weather with the others. We sit for a while and chat, but my mother needs to go inside for a moment to grab something. The newest resident chooses this moment to come outside, and she sits in my mother's chair, right between my grandmother and myself. I try to explain that someone is already using this chair, but the communication barrier is strong, and the elderly woman just looks at me. Not wanting to cause trouble, I bring over a new chair to place on my grandmother's other side, then drag mine beside it, so that I can visit properly with them. The lady says something, but I still can't decipher her words, so worried and confused I simply ignore her. My mother comes back and sits in the new chair. The residents have not lost their good humour, and soon we are all having a good time again. A fly buzzes around us and keeps landing on my grandma. "It seems to like you... I'm not sure why!" jokes my mother, and my grandmother laughs and says, "Thanks!" sarcastically. We all laugh. Except the new resident. Instead, she says something in an upset tone. My mother catches the gist of it and tells her, "No, we're not laughing at you, we're laughing about the fly. She tries to pat the woman on the shoulder but the lady grabs her cane and angrily threatens my mother with it. "Don't touch me!" she says. Some of the others caution my mom not to keep trying. We leave her alone again. I feel so sorry for this poor woman. There is nothing that any of us could say to her that isn't misinterpreted. She has reverted to some terrible point in her past, perhaps, where people judged her for her skin. Or she simply feels terrified in this mostly-white Home, deaf and alone in the world, worried that we might be talking about her all the time. As my brother said when we told him about it later, "What a horrible way to live the last years of your life." Assuming that everybody thinks badly of you, and in the process making it so.

"Oh, it's just a nursery rhyme!" snapped Victoria, who had grown tired of listening to "Mister Fifth". He was more full of himself than anyone she'd ever known. Vicoria deliberately grabbed the wine and poured herself more than half of what was left before setting it back into Tom's reach. Her plans to get on this man's good side were rapidly deteriorating, as she had never before found a man whose very existence in her presence could so thoroughly unstabilize her. He grated on her nerves every time he spoke. Victoria knew that Tom would be disappointed. After Brent had gotten himself killed and she had decided to take over his seat, she had learned a lot, and necessarily learned quickly, about the political scene. Now she could, usually, twist anyone around her finger. Tom had been away for some time, and naturally he would assume that she simply wasn't up to it. Obviously his tactics involved being outgoing and introducing oneself immediately... Victoria preferred subtlety, making the person just curious enough before introductions. Probably Tom had taken her quiet demeanor to mean that she was ignorant of the ways. But for a woman politician, it had to be different. And for William the Fifth, it would have to be different again. She had already shown her annoyance with him. Perhaps she could make him think of her as a challenge. He did seem just the sort of man who would go after a woman just because she didn't like him. Vicoria risked a glance up and unsurprisingly caught him looking at her. She narrowed her eyes, and found that she was acting barely at all. Yes. He might just be twistable after all.

Oh, you weren't being unclear. I just imagined the hallway itself wrong, which confused the rest of it in my head. And, like you said, we've got pictures to help.

Turns out I will be gone starting approx 1.5 days from now until approx 4 days from now. Celes, you had said earlier in the thread that you could take over my character for that time (a fact which I forgot until after posting the above). Are you still up for that? I have an outline for how she should vote in that time, but I'll send it closer to the time I leave so that I can make changes if needed. Edit: Note for Celes, your second picture just shows the first. But the floor plan for the first is enough for me to realize what made me so terribly confused about Tanny's description (I was picturing a long hallway beginning at the stairs, so when a room was in front of the first room to the left, I thought it was inhabiting the same space as the first room to the right...)

Yes, Kunax. Many of us regularily chat on IRC, via #thepen. Announcement: The time wherein I leave for four days has managed to sneak up on me and starts either tonight or tomorrow. I will be frantically readying myself today (leaving for my cabin with a group of friends, so I need to buy food and make sure we have all sorts of stuff, plus draw out the map for them) although it might end up being one day later and three days long. Basically, I am totally unprepared at this point (who knew the 28th was coming up so quickly!!) and I don't know who can take over my character. Fortunately we seem to be at a point where it might not matter too much. I'll PM Celes my first choice and if someone reading this is willing to help out, it might even be able to be someone who's in the game already since you wouldn't need any info that wasn't immediately being revealed, then I could send general voting info to you. Otherwise, I can send a more detailed plan to Celes and my character simply won't say anything other than what is controlled via the other players in their posts. I will check in later today and do whatever needs to be done at that point... and I'll make a post before I go as well. Sorry about this, you guys, I kept thinking it was next weekend.

Victoria watched as passengers climbed aboard the boat. The oil baron arrived and, as usual, became the centre of attention. Tom came and introduced himself to everyone. She nodded slightly when he said her name, but most of the passengers were too busy fawning over Mr. Horton to notice. "Sit down honey," she murmured to Tom, "You just look silly standing there." Victoria looked around again as he sat, not being particularily impressed with current company. The young oil magnate might be a good one to know, but now was not the time to approach him. The others seemed painfully unconnected. At least Tom would be good company, if he didn't get it into his head to steal the spotlight again. Victoria wondered how many had been invited, and whether they might set sail early.

Yay, another opportunity to drink rhubarb wine! Or was that much earlier? Pfft, it might still have been around in those times. Celes... can you send us all the floorplan? Is it possible to post it here? Oh, and how far do you intend us to be during these first 72 hours? ie) When everyone's made a post, should we assume the boat sails and we can begin exploring the house, or do you need us to still be at the docks?

So then the purple molluscs, after taking stock of their situation and coming to no logical conclusions, decided to grab some lunch. As is always the case, there was a Mickey D's just around the corner and down the street, but everyone knows that McDonald's burgers have rat heads and sometimes purple molluscs in their food. Melvin and Vinnie wisely decided to try Wendy's instead. Imagine their shock when Wendy herself greeted them at the door. She was an octopus, purple from the rain. When she recognized Vinnie, she greeted him warmly, but noticing Melvin she began to shriek. "YOU B******, YOU MARRIED ME AND THEN YOU MARRIED LISA AND THEN YOU MARRIED ELSIE... YOU'RE GONNA DIE FOR THAT!" Wendy the purple octopus picked up Melvin the purple mollusc and threw him halfway across the world again. Then she hugged Vinnie and offered him a hamburger.

Victoria Butler let the captain kiss her hand, wondering vaguely whether he recognized her or acted so freely with every woman he met. His chatter seemed to indicate the latter, and Victoria was tired of listening to him after only a few words. Having grown up with political scheming all around her, however, she was acutely aware how even inane banter could later be useful, so she kept half a mind on him. The first to arrive, the middle-aged woman looked around the boat for the best seat. It would not do to allow her blue flowered dress, bought just for this occasion, to get wet, nor for her freshly curled hair to be blown out of place. Thus, she must search out a spot away from the waves but shaded from the wind. Catching sight of just such a seat, the centre of the first row, Victoria thanked the captain for his welcome and strode to it. She smoothed out her dress before sitting, adjusted her straw hat, and waited. Tom had told her that he had gotten an invitation, as well. He had assured her that he would come. She wondered vaguely if he would have the guts to sit next to her, or whether he'd arrive early enough to have the option. Mentally shrugging off the question, Victoria began studying the other guests as they arrived. Quick OOC: Vahk's name is Baker, mine was the one changed to Butler...

Hey, cool. It somehow comes across as more what Shakespeare really meant, but couldn't say. At any rate, highly enjoyable.. and easy to identify with!

"He's right, Papa." Teq looked suddenly very old, and didn't answer for a moment. He reached his hand out and held Llassar's shoulder. "He is," the man finally intoned, "He's certainly correct. And anything that aids my vengeance should be welcomed, not spurned. So be it, then. We use the money to buy some help, and we utterly destroy this Gyrfalcon when we get the chance." Teq nodded almost brusquely, then started walking toward the door. He didn't want to help carry the loot, he couldn't make himself do that. Llassar looked confused for a moment, uncertain whether to follow his father or help Robby. The odd man picked up a chest with surprisingly little difficulty, so Llassar decided he could grab the second one. It must have held much more money, thought the boy as he struggled with it. Teq went outside and stood looking at the ground as Llassar dragged his chest a few feet across the floor, and Robby hefted three more on his own, piling them up outside. Llassar tried pushing, pulling, and finally decided to find some round sticks to use in rolling the thing. He went off in search of that, while Teq finally came back inside and began helping Robby. "Come on, Llassar. We've got them all down now," called the father to his son. He and Robby were both surprised by the reply. "I can't tell where it's coming from," he said, worry emanating from his youthful voice. The two older men followed the sound down to him. Llassar was standing in a particularily rubble-filled room, and he put his fingers to his lips when his companions entered. "There's a knocking." They all stood silently, and then Robby strode forward. "Here," he said, "and there's a voice, too." The three of them gathered around the broken table in the center of the room, and lifted. Edit: Pfft, apparently he's been spelling it "Robby" not "Robbie"...