Ozymandias

I REALLY like the breaks inbetween "can you" and "hear me?". They look great (very eye catching!), and I imagine it to sound quite somber, yet commanding at the same time when read aloud. "sung as a silent prayer the answer appears a blank page" being written before "crying the night each tear with a message breathing the words within your ears" conjured a powerful image of someone trying to write, finding themselves unable to, and talking their way through the message (to themselves/to someone who is far, far away). "Tear", you see, as you used it in that stanza, after the first one referred to a blank page, made me wonder if the speaker wasn't tearing the useless pages apart as they speak. Out of frustration? Despair? I don't know, but this is lovely, in the truest sense.

*amuses himself in the jump program while pondering houses of horrors* Well, Poe had a terrific setup in the Fall of the house of Usher, The Pit and the Pendulum, and The Cask of Amontillado... hmm. Gah. Friggin' Jigsaw. Whatever happened to good, clean wholesome slashers? Or better yet, Zombies? He runs full tilt at speeds so great that he seems to blur before taking a furiously kicking leap off of one office building and aiming for the side of the next one. Ha! I can heroically bounce off of that flagpole, then onto tha- THONGGG-G... ...owie... ------------------------------------ Hours later... ... ... ... ... unnnn. Note... to... ...self... athletic... cup... ... good...

...been veteran of a vocation you've never trained in? ...had a lazy day consist of only putting away the dishes and learning a new way to kill someone? ...reflexively put down the toilet seat even when there are no women around?

Going to opt out for a Saw themed game. Gore isn't a problem for me at all, there's simply too much "ends justify the means" mentality in those stories for me to want to be in one. If it's a similar style to Saw (same setting is fine, too), with a plot that's totally Mynx's, I'll happily play. For my own, I remain at your beck and call, whenever anyone wants to do the Matrix. ~Moi~

"The PROOF OF THE PUDDING IS IN THE KERFULFELDAH!!!", hollers Ozymandias at Xeros immediately before jabbing a finger into the air much too hard to keep his balance. SMASH! "Oh dear, he's in his cups again", comments a random writer, shaking his head sadly.

Many happy returns of the stay. :>) Sit down, put your feet up, watch the crowd go by, race with our runners, joust with our jesters, paint with our picters, learn us your letters, whatever you like to ease in. *bows* Always good to see a new face.

Merl: No, but it sure hurt too much to get back to sleep. Mynx: No, but my food *does* break into spontaneous song and dance at times.

...worn your pants as a scarf? ...been 'drunk dialed' by someone who wanted your advice on which issue of Fantastic Four to read next? ...used your car to stir your tea?

Ozymandias' metallic brown skin stood out against the black starfield and cool, silent grey land as only the metaphoric sore thumb could. Not that a tanuki, a midget orc, a young human girl in gleefully unmatched clothes (representing every color of the rainbow in no particular order), an anthropomorphic tigress clad in grim reaper costume, a young human lady with fiery red hair who was contentedly tossing a ball of yarn* into the air and catching it, a tigertaur, a young human man dressed in twenty-first century Earth ski apparel, and GeldrinHor did so any less, but that quiet folk always stand out first to many of a certain set of mind (but very especially when such folk are on the moon). GeldrinHor, Katzaniel, Mynx, Curious Mylo, Whisky in Babylon, Norman the Runt, and Tanunchan all lounged on blankets that the old pharaoh had provided, and were gazing up at the planet Earth as Ozymandias and Patrick amused themselves in a game of 'who can kick a rock out of sight first'. Counting especially Mynx and Katzaniel's eyesight, Patrick was thus far the closest. The contest came to an abrupt end when a powerful windup kick from Patrick that would've done the best Manchester United striker proud launched a ping pong ball-sized rock past the 'horizon' within seconds. Ozymandias grinned ruefully and Patrick just grinned as they watched the spot it had disappeared into for awhile afterward, both trying their best to squint hard enough to see that far through the vacuum. As his opponent ambled over to a blanket, Ozymandias spun on his heel to face the assembly. He had *that look* in his eye. No-one took this amiss, at least not greatly, not even Whisky or Norman who had just met the Loremaster; he had already taken them out for the afternoon to Earth's moon, after all. "I suppose you're all wondering why we're here", he began, striking a speaking pose. Tanuchan arched an eyebrow. "Well, now that you mention it...", she commented without a trace of a smirk. The old Egyptian gave her a little bow and a half smile in return, before continuing. "It's about the lot of you moving up in the world", he said, eliciting a smile and a glance over his shoulder from GeldrinHor's craggy face. Ozymandias paused once more as he caught this, and looked thoughtfully over his own shoulder at the Earth for several seconds, then back at GeldrinHor, then at the moon's surface for several more seconds. "Fair enough," he went on at last, "but that wasn't the world I was referring to. I speak, of course, of The Mighty Pen. We all have our strengths and our weaknesses. Everyone knows that. I could expound upon both facets of everyone here, but I won't- today is for taking a long, hard look only at the good you offer, and most specifically the good you do in our little home away from our homes. Norman," he said, as his gaze fell upon the little orc. Norman tipped his hat politely in reply while flicking away the rather arrowhead-shaped stone he'd been examining. "You are obviously a man of good humor, and as quick a thinker as any wit could ever hope to be. Tanuchan," he turned the lady tanuki's way, and she inclined her head to him briefly. "Your wisdom, courage, and creative soul make you one of the best big sisters our family has ever had. Whisky." Teeth and eyes flashed at him in a smile lit with earthshine. "You have a clear mind, and I dare say, an even clearer heart. You brought both to us at probably the time we needed them most; but they never do go out of style, do they? Katzaniel, Patrick", both of whom look mildly surprised at being addressed in tandem,"I swear I've never seen either of you falter or wave the white flag. Couple that astonishing endurance with surgical precision in every task you undertake, and...it's spectacular to see. Mylo", said he, and she caught her ball and held it, gazing back at him intently. "You encourage all of us to continue to look beyond the borders and patterns we are accustomed to, and as any voracious explorer, we find new wonders that way. You also keep your attention on the accustomed works of your fellows; never one to neglect anything beautiful you've already tracked down, either. Mynx," with a brief pause, Ozymandias sketches another stiff bow, this time with a respectful smack of his right fist into his left palm,"many, many causes lack intelligence, imagination, AND passion. You contain all three, and much more than one lady felinoid's worth besides. Finally, GeldrinHor", says the Loremaster with such an emphatic thump of his staff into the soil that the powdery stuff plumes twenty feet into the air, requiring a full minutes' worth of methodic sweeping it from the sky in front of him before he judges his vision clear enough again. "Sir, how I should describe you seems to offer only one avenue: 'A scout is trustworthy, loyal, helpful, friendly, courteous...' I'm sure you know the rest." He scanned all of them again. "All of these things and more make each of you a blessing in the Pen and anywhere else your travels take you. They also make you some of the most trustworthy folk I've ever met. However, since I only have power to give recognition inside the Pen, I shall proceed to do so. For trust and loyalty are really at the heart of things here. There are many other parts to the keep we've built that are likewise inextricable, but those two are its' foundation. Though as I have said you, myself and all other people you will ever meet are flawed as well as gifted, we compliment one another fantastically well in those regards." His wrinkled and tanned brow furrows now, as in deep thought, or frustration. "Even that doesn't really explain you and how the group of you in particular fit in with the Pen community. I hate to sound like one of those 'motivational speakers' who irritate me so, and quote music for meaning, but in this case, the twentieth century Earth song said it much better than I can: So just call on me brother, when you need a hand We all need somebody to lean on I just might have a problem that you'd understand We all need somebody to lean on Lean on me when you're not strong And I'll be your friend I'll help you carry on For it won't be long Till I'm gonna need Somebody to lean on It's from 'Lean on me', by Bill Withers, I believe. Please don't ask what country or year he was from- I haven't the faintest idea." The Loremaster looked a little embarrassed at this, but rallied quickly with an exultant shout. "Whisky! Norman! GeldrinHor! I dub you Pages of the Pen is Mightier than the Sword! Curious Mylo! I dub you Quill-Bearer of The Pen is Mightier than the Sword! Katzaniel! Tanuchan! Mynx! Patrick! I dub you Elders of The Pen is Mightier than the Sword!" Ever one to love a happy audience, Ozymandias chooses to go out with a bang literally. Raising his hands up high, and throwing his head back, his sleeves and hood suddenly end not in hands and head, but a staggering fountain of fireworks erupting so high from the moon's surface that they are seen as far as the Great Wall of China. *It was in fact the ball of yarn used by Theseus to navigate the famed Labyrinth of Crete as he searched for the Minotaur. How it had come to be in the janitor's closet in the west wing of the keep Mylo had found it in, none can yet say.

I'm really glad it's Monday The Watcher's head is much too small He cannot find his kidney Dining and Wining in the Hall Somewhere, a masked man calls out to me Inspired by my own Monday night this week...

Argh! And me without my copy of Hamlet. Curses! *sprints off to find another* Aha. Here it is: Hamlet's most famous soliloqy is in Act three, Scene one. Were you referencing it ("To be, or not to be...") in "To faint – sinking into soft blameless pressureless dark – Or not to faint?". If so, or if not, well played. ...no horrifc pun intended there... {:>) Seriously, those three lines are very Shakespearean in langauge and at the same time evocative of that famous speech, making the entire poem feel very like a quandry as deep as Hamlet's, but more like that brutal a battle between fear and curiousity, maybe even wonder, instead of our poor Dane's misery and rage. Well said.

Making the rounds to-night, and I thought I'd mention "how very like Chaucer you are...!", and then remembered, and will amend that to "On second thought, you're not. You're entertaining."

This put me in mind of a line from Mister Fantastic (of The Fantastic Four), of all people. "You know I have trouble slowing my thoughts down enough to be able to commit them to paper." (this is likely a massive paraphrasing, as I have loaned out this comic book at present and cannot reference it directly, but you get the gist.) Eloquent frustration, Sir Z.

Feedback, eh? Well, better late than never, right? (and you never know who's watching...) I actually liked this a LOT. It was the story of how Riven and Timak met, and never was about the dragons, except as subplot, wasn't it? Even if the reverse is true, it reads beautifully as a very classic style (and when I say classic style, I say it as one who devoured damn near every prinitng of Greek myth, Mayan myth, American Indian myth, and Arthurian legend I could get my hands on as a young'un. jsyk.) legend of knightly heroes. The only two things I would change are how often you say Riven's name in the piece (it gets annoyingly repetitive) and to add just a little bit more description of the dragons' side of the battles. Not much. The simple, matter-of-fact voice you used works beautifully for a swords and sorcery tale (see all the stories I referenced above, as well as much of Hans Grimm, Wilhem Grimm, and Hans Christian Andersen's works, for example.), so be very cautious to only add something to the tune of...four, maybe five lines, I'd estimate.

It's quite easy for me to find writers who do not take me with them to the place where their characters live. I read this and felt pain knowing I couldn't help this boy. As such, he does serve as an eloquent, and though painful, gentle reminder. Thank you.

Whichever way you can, good to see you back in the ol' homestead.

High five, J! Awriiiiiight. :>)

...found peace in swimming with a frog? ...threw your car into reverse and taken your foot off of the brake just to see where it would go? ...found the tiniest Lincoln in your life? ...idolized an opera singer turned garbage man?

Well, I've *got* to represent the guys then, eh? \;>) I too love the spoken word style of it; the poem flows equally well as normal (much more passionate than average) conversation as it does in its literary nature. Made me feel like you and I were sitting togther, and you were telling me bittersweet stories of your past. Also, My *dad* actually surfed by last night to look at *my* new poem, and after reading that, he read yours. He said (with calm emphasis), "I like that one."

An interesting one from the movie Finding Forrester: Rewrite someone else's piece; any work you chose, from beginning to end in your own words. Not publishable, of course, but still very useful in circumstances where you alreayd have an idea, but no idea how to say it. My own: Any movie, poem, song, story, any written work (or piece of that written work) that really impressed you with its catchiness in sound, word, message or some mixture of the three to the point that it's one of those things you love to quote, or replay, or rewatch, etc. still with no signs of its appeal wearing out. Just make yourself comfy, and reread/rewatch/repeat/ponder/whatever until you get an idea. Then run with it, no matter how weird or silly it may seem. For best results, reflect on two or more works at the same time. Works best for me when I have NO idea what to write whatsoever.

A cherub's voice said, "Mother says take one giant step." Tam took a small, mighty step across the logs. "Go back! You forgot to say may I? ", declared the cherub proudly. Tam's own boy squeak rose in passionate protest as only the small can give. "Cheater!" he hollered, and made a face at Shelly. **** Hammer clutched frimly in hand, Tam squatted down by the violated body that had been his sometime friend, ofttime object of pity, and stared deep into Bene's eyes. Tam's own had been cloudy, unfocused ever since the ka-tet had arrived. Now, they cleared and seemed to become aware again as he stood the blood splattered ground with Roland and Oy. Tam reached down and gently closed the head's eyes. The carpenter wept without making a sound. Roland bowed his head, more out of consideration to the living than the dead. Companionship and privacy at the same time at a funeral, he knew. Oy began to sniff at Tam's mute, sob shaken frame inquisitively before the others began to arrive and he became distracted by the new scents. Tam remained a long while right where he sat, even after they took Bene away. Finally, he went home, cried dry. He never let go of his hammer, even as he collapsed onto the pillow. (OOC: A vote for Savage/Johnny.)

O_O Zounds. I have no idea if you remember me, Lady, but if you are who I think you are (used to be Lady LilacFlame?) it was thanks to the warm welcome and pleasant company that you and an Ozzy mage named...Fylar? Yes, I think it was. Anyway, it was your welcome, or someone who you already remind me of in name and speech of quite a lot, nine years ago that helped me get comfortable in Archamge right from the start. So, since this place came directly from that time...well, you can understand why I'm feeling a bit happily astonishedly nostalgic. What I'm trying to say, in short: Welcome. Very good to see you. :>) (and to make sure there's no room for misinterpretation, the same conduct that Wyv so cleanly outlined will be fully expected of the above GL, should he ever enter our borders) ~Ozymandias~

...shaken, not spread your peanut butter? (try this only if you are quite ready to get peanut oil off of an approximate ten inch radius of miscellaneous surfaces) ...walked ten miles to meet a werewolf? ...met a house eating bunny?

Tam needed more wood from Oldwind, as the Morrison's roof repairs had turned out to be much more extensive than any of them had first thought. He reckoned that since he'd have to go past their land anyway, the Clearwaters' wouldn't mind a visit- Mister and Missus would only have their hands fuller and fuller in the months and years to come, after all. He tethered his horse to a likely-looking tree- shade, grass, and a small stream to boot underneath- before walking onto the Clearwater estate proper. Tam had gone about a hundred yards before he was transfixed by the faces he hadn't expected: Roland and his fellows. He stared unabashedly where he stood.

There is a knock at the door. It is not readily heard over the music (and buffet), so no-one answers until three hours later, upon which a thirty-foot tall, ninety-foot diameter birthday cake is discovered three feet shy of the door. "Help...", it says plaintively. Ozymandias, meanwhile, hasn't been seen all day.