Katzaniel

One thing that someone mentioned once on another board and I think is applicable: when you're making a post and having your character interact with other people's chars, it is often easy (but inadvisable) to have the other character do nothing. If you're not sure how they would react, it is tempting to just ignore the decision, but odds are they would NOT do nothing in response to whatever your character is doing. I think (and tell me if you disagree) that it's better to guess and be wrong about their actions than to have a character just sitting and watching your actions. Myself, I'm always a big fan of acknowledging that the edit button is there if you need it and then taking a stab at it.

But... but... you have a member number!! I imagine Peredhil speaks accurately for how others see you, yourself for how you see you, and the truth somewhere in there. I'd rather takes Peredhil's point of view on any person any day than try to imagine faults, be they there or not Nice to meet you Tyrion. Hope my self-appointed title doesn't offend. *Bows* Ayshela: Yes, I see it now. Along with the FAQ and so forth (actually I found it a little earlier today...) I guess I wondered why it wasn't in the same place as the other "rooms" if you know what I'm trying to say. I was confused, but I am confused no longer. Thanks!

Good answers all. (I'm afraid, I'm afraid!!) Unfortunately my brain responds to answers with more questions (I anticipated this when I subtitled the topic "and other musings"... hope you guys don't mind ) Why don't these so-called "Walls of the Pen" show up on the main page? I remember finding them once before because I had read that thing about Zool's chicken (Zool's a chicken, hehe) but I don't remember how. Who is Tyrion (and when can I find him napping? ) why he doesn't show up on our list? I mean, how can he be a member and not a member?

I've been playing with the member listing capability and noticed a few things: First, we have no Fix-It Gnomes, Keepers, Official Non-Members or Validatings. Obviously, the Official Non-Members that weren't eaten by me were scared off by me , but how does one become a Fix-It Gnome? Also, Jechum. I can pretend to understand that he has 8,388,607 posts, he probably posted the archives or something like that. But how can he have made some 24,000% of the posts in this forum? Or do his total posts count old Pen posts, while the total forum posts don't? But really. What's with the Fix-It Gnome?

PS. I want to be clear on these timing things. You often seemed to state "by midnight" but when is that exactly? (seeing as we're all in different time zones?) Could you do a post in this thread that says "Midnight my time is X hours from this here post." and then I can easily figure out when that is my time? Thanks.

Here's my question: when's the next one? Do we wait until WWII is finished? (If so, we're in trouble because WWII lastest much longer than just until June... ) I'd like to be involved. Do we get to PM you, Dean and try to convince you to let us be villager/baner/wolf/seer, or you just pick for us? Any way I'm game!

I ditto to Peredhil's original post and... hmm... * I haven't found the sketchbook with all my notes for my first book, but I've started another one, that's good. * I found a gamer guy #:] although he couldn't be TOO gamer because he's scared of the letters "b/f"! Seriously, I have a great boyfriend. * My week off school is definitely starting to take an edge off of all this stress. * My brother got engaged. * I wrote a poem the other day. * My boyfriend is starting to admit to liking my cat well enough to pet him, even though he still won't admit to admitting to like him... * I'll reiterate that I love life. Well, it's sort of a sort-of reiteration. I mean, saying that you're alive as a good thing means to me that you love life, and dittoing Peredhil's saying that is sort of saying that yourself. * I'm shutting up.

I don't think he used a filter. The N in "Give my regards to the peN" in backwards. So unless it randomly chooses some to put backwards to either give it more authenticity or more "l33tness" (liteness looked so very wrong), I think he went to the work to write that the original way. Actually, looking closer, I'm not sure that the only proper N isn't the one in Ness. Who knows?

The delegate from Mennic came into the room with his eyes properly averted, showing respect for the soil on which he tread. His open palms showed peace for the Emperor of Yoka, into whose presence he entered. As soon as the door was closed behind the man, however, Kurchik had cause to gasp at the man's indecency. He thrust his hands into his pockets and then looked Kurchik directly in the eyes. A moment later, Kurchik was doing more than gasping. At least he wasn't the one who screamed, although he couldn't tell who did. The delegate withdrew his hands, both now holding the most recent Mennic weapons technology. Seeing them on a desk earlier that month, thanks to the Yokan Discovery Agency, Kurchik had admired the technology and demanded that his men replicate it by year's end. Seeing it now, the laser gun in the man's right hand aimed at his forehead and the one in his left roaming the room searching for someone who dare move, Kurchik cringed and averted his own eyes. A sure sign of doom, he realized a moment after it was too late. He had just given up any position of power he had by showing unquestionable weakness. He had deferred to the delegate. "I have been ordered to secure you, your people, and your latest discovery for the imminent arrival of the Emperor Veen of Mennic, may he rule all the world. You will do as I say until he arrives, or you will die." Kurckik remembered with a pang that the YDA had told him these laser guns were absolutely silent, and resistant as well to the current weapon-detection technology held by Yoka. What an idiot he was for not setting up more protection around this delegate. Too agitated by the pod from another world to see the danger right in front of him. Nothing to do about it now, though. He kept his eyes averted. The man nodded to one of the scientists, a woman. "Go get your witnesses. I want to question them. No tricky business - the guard is one of ours." She left the room, even though her eyes were glowing almost red from anger. OOC: MeThinksUFoolish, (can I call you Foolish? ) you are a witness, right? If you were supposed to be an engineer or something I can fix this up a little to include you. Anyway, feel free to react however you want to the situation, even if it changes the situation. I don't have any real plan for how this turns out, since the politics on Tata-Ri won't affect the Allenuan landing much. It's only after that that it starts to matter who's in charge.

OOC: I don't know whether Damon has read my post in the greenroom and doesn't know how to respond or whether he has not recently checked the greenroom, but I don't like to see nothing happening for so long, so I'm going to create a character in Tata-Ri. IC: Kurchik eyed the spherical pod suspiciously. None of his men, scientific or otherwise, had been able to tell him much about it. All anyone knew was that it had dropped onto Tata-Ri's surface from outer space, not crashing into it but actually opening up little legs and descending upright to land. His secret service had abducted and questioned the three witnesses as quickly as possible, before they could spread the story, but rumours had already sprung up. The Prime Govenors of Mennic and Beeta had already sent word that representatives were on their way. As Prime Govenor of Yoka, however, Kurchik was prepared to do everything in his power to keep the pod in his jurisdiction. That meant figuring out as soon as possible what its purpose was, and they were no closer to doing that then when they had first picked it up. "Can't we at least figure out which direction it came from?" he said angrily, "or crack it open somehow?" The scientists had been reluctant to try that at first, but had since broken all the tools they could find on the pod's surface. They had the decency to look embarassed, but none spoke up. Just then there was a knock on the door. "The delegate for the Empire of Mennic has arrived, sir." Kurchik could not stop him from coming, and it did cross his mind that this was fast becoming an issue for the concern of all Tata-Ri'n. He could at least hope that Mennic would think of something to do with the thing. "Let him in," he growled.

OOC: I'm very glad that people are posting characters and so forth, this is just about what I expected for the first little while. But I need to ask people to remember to put speech in the proper colours so that we can all easily tell what language they are speaking and therefore what race they are. If you're not sure how, check out the link in my first post, there's an explanation somewhere in there. Also, make sure you regularily check out the greenroom. There's a lot of discussion to catch up on if you haven't been reading it, so I understand that may take a while, but please try. I'd like to keep OOC comments (but for a few lines here and there) in the greenroom as much as possible. Thank you.

"Only this morning," Erando defended himself. "I told you as soon as I found out." "Sure you did," muttered Ealizah, Erando looking sideways at her and trying to figure out whether he had heard right or understood wrong. She ignored him and hurried onward. "What have you done so far? "I've informed as many as I can. Most are on their way right now." "Irigas? Plenda? Sentaf?" "Er. Yes, I supponse they ought to be involved." "Who did you call, Erando?" Ealizah narrowed her eyes at him. "Well, you. Lassol. Neffa. The council." "Call everyone, Erando. There will be important decisions made tonight. We can't forget anybody." Erando turned back to his console and Ealizah left to greet those that were just arriving. There was much to be done. OOC: The names given in this post are only fillers. When people start posting their characters, I'll replace some or all of the mentioned names. If anyone doesn't know what to name their character, though, you can use get inspiration from here (or steal outright )

Any human being would have been confused by the display in the little room. It consisted of a tall dome-topped structure in the center of another dome. The person standing in the glass-like center was waving her hands and arms around in dance-like movements, speaking at the same time. She had six fingers on each hand, was six feet eleven inches tall and had silvery hair. Her chest was flat as human standards go, her limbs long and thin. The language she spoke was Allenua, the same as name for the planet on which she stood, and the race to which she existed. Her movements communicated to the computer that was all around her, its sensors at various points in the small structure and its screens covering the entirety of the larger dome. "I'll need confirmation of that," she said in the language of her planet, surprise showing through her face, unusual for one of her kind. Colours swirled on the screens around her, and a three dimensional map popped into the air. Lines drew themselves across the stars that made it up, and the planet in its centre glowed brightly for an instant. Calmness slipping away, Ressa, for that was her name, made the hand movements to make the dome power down, and without opening any doors stepped right through the inner and then the outer domes. Both were now clear but still appeared solid. Ressa made her way through some corridors, for she was still inside a building, though very large. She did not have to walk far before she was in front of a clear door shape (the upper part again a dome, like an upside down letter U). Through it she could see a man doing his work on a much smaller version of the computer she had just left. He looked up and saw her, then moved his hands the same way she had, dimming the mini-sphere that covered his desk. "Ressa," he said, bowing his head in greeting. "Erando," she returned, doing the same. "Do you remember the capsules that OFAE sent out fifteen hundred years ago?" He nodded, and smiled slightly. "What does the organization want now? Allenua tried sending ships long before the capsules, and we have never found a thing." Ressa shook her head at him, saying, "They'll never shut up about it, now. One of the capsules was found." Erando stood up. "An Organization For Alien Existence capsule? Has landed on a planet with life?" "Isn't the thought almost beyond comprehension, Erando? They have been looking for life since we discovered space travel three thousand years ago, and never had success. And yet now, we see that they have been right all along. Life besides us exists in this universe. Almost makes me wish I had gone in for Alien Existence Planning myself." He stared at her for a second, still obviously shocked. Then, shaking his head, "Have the aliens sent a response yet?" "No," laughed she. "They have not yet been able to open it. Of course the important ones have only just gotten it, but apparently it's still broadcasting signals of them trying to figure out what to do with it." Seeing his curiosity in his face, she went on."They're short, by the sounds of it. No hair on their heads, no eyebrows either. Only five fingers. I didn't see the video myself, but the report states that their skin looks strange as well." "Well, yes," said Erando, turning on his computer again. "I guess we've got work to do. I'll inform the rest of the council. You go back and await news of a response. If anything new comes in, tell me via computer; I may not be in my office for the rest of the day."

OOC: I had what I think is a neat idea for a thread. I really want to get people interested because I think it would be a whole lotta fun. So, because I imagine I'm not the only one who doesn't check the Greenroom on a regular basis, I'm going to reserve a space here for the story. Interested? Come see!

What about once every two weeks? The rotating ones could be every month or every two months even. And that madlib thing that was suggested in another thread. I just think two weeks is better than a month because it would be really hard to keep up with it (and if you wait a whole month, you may be tempted to make it longer than people are going to want to read) versus having it every week, which does not allow for much planning time. How about (a variation on that other suggestion), The Mighty Inkwell? Or The Mighty Inkspot, since it's sort of a summary thing. Wyvern: I think your advice column would be absolutely awesome, although I think that alternating would work, too, if you found it more inspiring. Um.. if no one else has claimed the spot, I could try getting the madlib thing going for the next publication. It's just that I'm *really* bad for not coming here often, and I'm more likely to be the one that needs this to keep up! Edit: PS, email is definately the way to go. Most people here are virus-literate enough that it would be deleted immediately if it had an attachment

How come I never got a key? Oh wait, nowhere to keep it... Welcome, Louveteau.

Ah yes, teleportation. I plan to invent that some day, so then it won't be a superpower any more. Mine would be the control of time. I could stop time in order to sleep and then have all day for everything else! I might stop it occasionally to get an assignment in on time, too. And to be with my boyfriend in the three seconds his sister occasionally leaves us alone! Ah yes, that would be fun. I would also stop time sometimes just so I could look around, at stars and grass and ants... I do this now but not nearly often enough.

My God, Zool, I cannot believe you said that. As for nudity, no. I am uncomfortable enough around people without having even less protection. Not that I think I would look that bad or anything (or perhaps I just don't want to be asked to prove it? #:]) but I am not a comfortable person when it comes to dancing, acting, walking even - naked would be worse. Secondly, I've seen enough naked people from my brother's paintings of naked green women, most of whom look like his girlfriend (their faces! I only know about their faces!!!). I guess I just don't like having to look at the female body. And I'd rather not have everybody see me looking at the male body, thanks. (ps for those of you who care and who don't know already, I'm female myself) I would simply leave. No harm done, but no need to do harm to my psyche by staying!

Horace had been stranded on the earth for over a month, and she was getting very tired of the whole thing. Gabriel had been strangely quiet for the last week. Perhaps he was getting used to his confinement. Wandering aimlessly through a forest, Horace hefted Gabriel's briefcase. She was paying so little heed to her surroundings that her feet passed through the twisted roots on the forest floor without tripping her. Things like that always happened around Horace, but she never noticed. It was what had enabled her to put Gabriel inside the briefcase; reality never seemed to matter until she noticed that she was doing the impossible, and sometimes even if it was pointed out to her she was not convinced. Looking up at exactly the wrong moment, she ran right into a tree branch. Faint grumbling eminated from the case in her hands. She scowled at it, not realizing that Gabriel could not see her from inside of it. Just then, she heard voices somewhere off to the right. That voice; it was just like Lucifer's! She hurried towards it, running once more through branches, so hard was she concentrating. But, upon getting closer, she stopped dead with disappointment. Lucifer was nowhere to be seen. She almost turned around, but curiosity piqued. Perhaps she could do some service to him, here. So, she leaned against a tree and simply faded away; anyone who was not paying close attention would not notice she was there unless she moved.

Wow, this is a very helpful thread. Let us hope I can remember all these useful points... (FYI Salinye, Word corrects me on that all the time, as well. This problem, and my wordiness/rambling addiction.)

I apologize. I probably should not start off like this with an apology, but really this isn't very good, and I wouldn't want to get anybody's hopes up. I had decided I wanted to do this in poetry form, and I have learned my lesson. I am only good at poetry when it is really morbid. That seems to be the trouble with poetry, my poetry anyway, it's a lot easier when it is depressing. Enough chatter. Ode to a Gyrfalcon Retreat to a time long ago, Float down to that place far away, Travel back to the Archmage Bulletin Boards... There, where inspiration did flow, And the sweet breath of words held sway, As open chests of bread amid ravenous hordes... We let the words spill upon the page, We let them all fly out! Innocent and wonderful but sometimes corrupt, Who is there to help us in our rage? Who when we let our anger spout? The ever-watching Gyr will not let it erupt. Always just and ever true, Often beyond our sight, The Falcon would swoop upon any insult, Hold up the downtrodden or new. Every time he would do what was right, Smoothing down the raging tumult. Aye, The best-laid schemes o Gyr-fal-con Gang not agley! (Sorry, I just had to add that little tribute for the stolen title.)

My opinion: It is like everything in this world. Anyone can do it, many in mediocrity, and sometimes someone comes along who has a talent and can do it whether they want to or not. The part about wanting to do it comes when you start to talk about improvement. To get better, you have to really want to get better. You have to be able to recognize weaknesses for what they are, and you have to set yourself, heart and soul, to overcoming them. It may sound simple but this has been proven to me in regards to other things. I have every reason to believe it holds true for most if not all abilities. As for why do I write... that's a good question. As good as the first, and I find it tougher. I've been writing about as long as I remember. I grew up reading, and writing came on the tail. Passion for it has allowed me to improve quite a bit. (The earliest story I can find is a really cute five page choose-your-own-adventure written in about a seven year old's hand, about a bee... (Do you run? Sit still? Swat at it???)) Meeting a few different people who write and write well has served as fuel for the passion, but I still cannot point to any begin point on my journey to this place and time. Fare ye all well, then, on your journey away from now.... (although I hope many of you remain here)

I did think of that, but I didn't want to be the one to volunteer... shows how helpful I am Actually, I thought of e-mail but not PM, which I probably don't use enough. And I'm not - usually - around often enough to be responsible like that. If someone is willing to do that, then yeah, it would probably work better...

What, make a mistake?!?! I say pen because the most often use to which I put my writing utensils is notes & homework. (Sad but true). I find the temptation to erase my mistakes hard to resist when using pencils, but when I use a pen the mistake is there for all eternity and I can refer back to it later. When I'm studying, I can look at where I made my mistakes. A'course, when I hand in my good copy I use pencil, but that takes about a fifth of the time and perhaps one twentieth the effort. Black because I don't like the look of blue pens on paper, and gel pens smudge easily, too easily for note-taking. :pen: :pen: :pen: :pen: (I liked your graphical idea, Canid ) Ah, I see Alaeha makes a post in the meantime - good points, all. Yes.... good points. Besides, as this reminds me, with a pencil I wouldn't be able to save the dead ones (dead, as in all the blood gone from their souls... I wonder if I'm morbid?) and use them for a mobile or some odd purpose when I find one. Dead pencils are too short for much of anything except projectiles... Oh! And I wanted to add a "fact" I heard somewhere, correct me if it is not true, please. Apparently, the American government spent tons of money and a huge amount of effort and created a pen for their space program that could write in low gravity settings. And, the Russians used a pencil....

Annael: If you're making a challenge, you would write your story but not post it yet. When someone accepts a challenge, they write their story and then immediately post it. Then you post yours, and you'll see who wins. For example, I issued a challenge, and Nobody Of Consequence just answered it - I think - so I'm going to post my story. ------------------- Andre sighed and resumed his trek up the mountainside. He had been going all day, but continue he must. Turning, he motioned for his companions to follow, and though sullen, they did. The treasure was naught to be found, not anywhere nearby. They had staked their homes and families on the expedition, however, and had little choice but to continue. Onward they journeyed, through day and dusk, nothing to guide them but a ragged and yellowing scrap of paper. They followed the spiderwebbing line carefully, retracing their steps many times, tracking up and down the mountain, attempting to cover the entire area. They had reached a point where the map seemed to differ greatly from the actual terrain, and it had scared or depressed them all. Finally, though, dying from thirst and hunger, they stumbled upon the pass that must mean their salvation. Beyond must lie the treasure that they had hoped and dreamed of, that they could bring back home and live comfortably until the end of their days. Stumbling forward, half blind, they saw it, glittering only twenty steps ahead. Breaking into the run, the small group ran right over the crack that had appeared in the decades since the map's creation, falling into the crevice that was the only thing keeping them from fortune and from life. ------------------------ Depressing, but hey. And paper covers rock - or stone, presumably you people are used to another version of the game which uses stone - so I guess I win this time. I'm not in the mood to write another whole story right now so I'm not going to issue another challenge, but mybe later. Or maybe I'll be able to answer one.