Ozymandias

I've often thought: If I ever get my hands on a time machine, I will go back to this point and beat the living crap out of myself. That would probably teach me not to do it again. There are many things in my life that I'm absolutely ashamed of, that I wish I could go back, and at the very least scream at myself "DON'T DO THAT!" However, like any good time traveler, I have to stop and think about how absolutely I do or do not understand such a change, and all it's effects on the future. For the record, though, I think Katz said it best.

Have you ever performed "cryogenic" experiments on living things? (yes, yes I have...) Have you ever completely forgotten someone's name for a week? Have you then for no apparent reason, remembered it again? Have you ever felt, utterly sincerely, that vomiting is one of the most relaxing things in the world? Have you ever danced into work? (take that as you will.) Have you ever actually "seen red"? (as in: "He just kept making me angrier and angrier. Still, I managed to keep my cool. With his last comment, though, I saw red.") Have you ever played catch literally with your brother? Have you ever eaten anything alive? Have you ever tried to create a realistic replica of diaherrea? Using condiments?

For his highness Arawn Dan'shir, a vacuum-packed case of Peanut Butter Twix. This way, you can still have them if Mars decides to be petty and evil and discontinue them again. For the Lady Arwen, an enchanted pair of glasses, and an oaken ruler, both gifts that she may in turn give to director Peter Jackson. The glasses, so that he may never mistake the Lady for one of her male contemporaries ever again, and ruler to give him the smack he so richly deserves for doing it in the first palce. \;>) Happy Birthdays!

Have you ever unintentionally imitated Charlie Brown, and opened your mailbox several times, just to see if the mail might be there *this* time? Have you ever performed the same "Charlie Brown" maneuver with an e-mail Inbox, by hitting refresh, over and over again? Have you ever been so dedicated to the cause of willing that message into your inbox that you've done this for hours on end, with no breaks? Have you ever had the message you've been waiting for actually appear while doing this?

Have you ever taken your compact on two wheels around hairpin turn after hairpin turn on your way to an interview you're late for?

It's alive! IT'S ALIIIIVE!!!!

Ah, the gummi bears, pens and pencils perhaps forever embedded in (or on) the ceiling tile in the cafeteria.

#1. Yes. #2. Yes. #3. Yes. #4. Yes. #5. Define "pillaging". #6. Yes. #7. Yes. Flying down the highway at 88 mph, then taking an off-ramp that's almost a perfect 80 degree angle, in the rain, doing two full 360 degree spins, and finally coming to a stop still with the closest end of the car to the guardrail being over five feet from it- and doing it all in a road space that is not only quite curved, but not quite wide enough for two compact cars to sit in side by side. Miraculously, we neither hit *anything* nor had any other cars on the ramp at *all* during our spinout or recovery, nor hurt ourselves at all. Who says guardian angels don't exist? Have you ever held a lengthy conversation without using words? Have you ever developed a crush on a cartoon character?

Have you ever seen an animal anthropomorhize itself? Have you ever had no (or simply unacceptable) radio in your car, along with no CD player, tape deck or MP3 player, and talked to yourself to entertain yourself instead? Have you ever sung to yourself instead? Have you ever seen a sunrise that was exactly the color of pure gold? Have you ever been so mentally and emotionally bogged down, that you climb into the *shower* and lie down, only to start feeling better minutes later when you realize the wonderfullly obscene noises you can make with the suction your back makes in the pooling water under you? Ozymandias readjusts the microphone, looks out at the crowd, and bellows "NEXT!", before walking regally offstage and attacking his coffee cup like castaway on a coconut. (OOC: before you ask, I have several possible plans here. Where this goes, gentle reader, is dependent upon how you react. Have fun!)

*ROFL* Oh my. I'd say 'Poor Crichon', but then I hear she keeps her...ah, *Hostel* very well. ( I kid.) So I'll stick with RUN, WYVERN, RUN!!!

You attend as you can, and that's enough for us. You earned this, bud. :>)

Always searching Always searing ever burning ever healing Old things die New ones grow the dance it flies and never slows Renewal in devastation Death into life-bringing all encompassed in one The hottest flame The cooling ash the new beginning My Dear Merelas, Congratulations O Firey one, on becoming our newest Herald. It's a promotion as amply deserved as humanly (or elvenly. ) possible.

"Show me that again, Tanny, if you would", asked Ozymandias politely. "Certainly. Watch closely now. The physical isn't so important as the mental focus, but a proper transformation is of course, still key." Ozymandias nods in silent agreement as the dark-haired woman in front of him smiles mischeviously, then begins to change shape. The king who oversaw so many battlefields, as well traversed the realms of the dead on more than one occasion looked queasy. "I'm very glad it doesn't feel the way it looks," he said simply. Tanuchan grinned up at him and wagged her tail to say, Me too! The Loremaster sat down next to her and absently scratched behind her now canine ears, lost in thought. "I suppose you're wondering why I asked you out here", he said finally, after staring off into space. He grinned down at her, and she bared her teeth pleasantly right back at him. "I assume you'd already figured that it wasn't for tips on being a werewolf," he said wryly. Tanuchan nodded, in that sage way that only a member of the canine family can, before returning to her panting. Ozymandias marveled again at her ability to even pant daintily. He looked off into the night sky again, and watched a shooting star fall from the sky. He had to smile again- it was a shimmering yellow in color, much like a wolf's eye. Ozymandias began to recite: "My life has been the poem I would have writ, But I could not both live and utter it." He finished, smiling quietly at his sometimes bestial companion. Tanuhcan cocked her head at him in apparent confusion. "It's not mine," he explained. "A fellow by the name of Thoreau wrote it, back on Earth- some millenia after my time, true. My point behind it really, is that I am no poet. You're much more of one than I ever have been- and I know I'm not the only one who feels similarly." Tanuchan now stared at him blankly, brows furrowed. "That's what I get for trying to be very clever, I suppose," he sighed theatrically. "I know you haven't seen the lists of late, so I'll congratulate you now- you really are a Poet and didn't know it! Congratualtions to our newest Poet, now in word, as in deed." [OOC: Go Tanny! It's yer birthday! Go Tanny! ]

Arashi, DL Snake, Gnarlitch, Happy Buddha, Purple Shadows, Racououl, Solivagus, Tanuchan, and Yuki Kokoro stood assembled on the farthest reaches of the lands of The Pen is Mightier than the Sword, gazing by turns wonderingly around and warily around as they took in the vast expanse of dry grass that stretched out as far as the eye could see beyond the southernmost border, and the utter lack of the prescence of their host, Loremaster Ozymandias. Low, dark clouds rolled quickly across the sky like a silent tide, and and an almost oppressive heaviness lay in the air, even though the wind blew across their bodies with terrific speed, and the plain before them rustled with a sound like pouring rain. It was, appropriately enough (to the point that some rolled their eyes in brief rueful amusement) moments after the first thunderclap that Ozymandias appeared. No flash, no bang- He simply was standing there in front of them where he had not been the instant before. He carried in one hand a drink tray that held one of each attendee's favorite drinks. Walking calmly among them, the grave old man began to serve his fellows, with only the explanation, "I know such weather tends to make me crave a good drink to properly enjoy it with. Please, help yourselves." Once he had finished with this, they realized he was no longer holding the tray, but also had never seen it leave his hand. It was at that point, however, that most decided to stop wondering at his illusions and to listen, for he again stood before them; now as though he were ready to speak. Focusing on him so let them also now realize that he had painfully dark circles under his eyes, and had the look of one who had been in terrible need to, but had only washed recently. "Friends," he began as the wind began to pull harder at all, and a faint whistling could now be heard as it rushed faster through far trees, "I apologize. I have done you serious insult by so haphazardly approaching so important a thing as your ascendance, and I know some of you may feel slighted, even insulted or saddened by the lateness of my carrying out this event as it should be. For this, I am truly sorry. But," he continued, a new energy creeping slowly into his speech and facial features, "I bear good news, in the wake of the difficulties that brought myself and all of you to this specific point and time. Several things have happened in recent weeks here at the Mighty Pen, some bad, some good. But I bring to you the news that all of of those things, good or ill, are giving us fresh starts and new opportunities, as a keep, as a community, and as friends." Ozymandias smiled at them openly now. It was not dire, or grim, as their strange surroundings suggested, but peaceful, hopeful, and joyous. "As they say in the vernacular, there's nowhere to go but up." The wind whipped and pulled at them with enough force now to make all their clothes feel as though they'd been tightly wrapped in cloth cocoons. Ozymandias's own robes fluttered and flailed wildly about him like curtains in a hurricane, but this seemed not to bother him one bit. The thunderclaps had become more and more frequent now, yet somehow, the dark, black clouds overhead, and the now occasional jagged bolt of lightining did not dismay any of the Loremaster's guests anymore. Instead, the prevasive feeling was one of the relief that comes with the rain after a long, dry time and a sense of the coming growth and renewal in its wake- which is to say, an almost dichotomous all-encompassing excitement and peace. They saw only beauty, even in this threatening sky over the lands of the Pen. "Change is happening. So much old is growing anew, and many things new have joined the old. However, as is the nature of the changes of which I speak, they cannot happen alone. They will need people to guide them, and nurture them. Some of you join us in this venture, here in our lands and our stronghold for the first time. Others are here today because they continue on that journey. I welcome all of you, as does everyone. But this is not a forced thing, it is an invitation. Beginning or starting the road we are all on- Stay with us?" So finishing, he looked them all in the eyes in turn, waiting. Abruptly as the Loremaster had made his enterance, the sky let loose with torrential rain. To everyone gathered's swift amazement, the rain touched them not at all, save for a fine, cool mist. The Pennites gazed up in awe as they realized the prescence of Air Elementals ringing round them, and bent over to make a living canopy for them against the rain. The heretofore invisible massive creatures nodded their approval down at all of those gathered, the rain outlining their towering forms now for all to see. After several minutes spent in deep thought, and at least some basking in the simple pleasure of a good old fashioned summer rainstorm, the assembled nominees began to voice their acceptance. Ozymandias grinned from ear to ear, and unfurled a scroll he'd unattached from his belt. "Down to business then!," he bellowed jovially over the storm. Promoted from Initiate to Page: Arashi DL_Snake Gnarlitch HappyBuddha Promoted from Page to Quillbearer: purple_shadows Racouol Solivaqus Tanuchan Yuki Kokoro And a new Elder place at 'the table' has been set- Alaeha, as is our tradition, has not been automatically accelerated, but now has a place open for her to claim in the Tower. Congratulations a thousand times over to all!" The rain passed by the time he finished reading, clouds began to roll away, and with the last drops of the rain finally landing with an occasional spat! on a few heads as the Air Elementals made their way back to their homes... There came the closest view (or perhaps simply the largest!) rainbow any of them had ever seen. [OOC: I meant every word I said in the above story, I simply dressed it up- my specific wording, and the setting I created- to be as dignified and fun as possible, but it was all true. It's been hard, busy, joyful, and sorrowful in the past few months or so in particular, with everything going on inside the Pen and out: fights we've had with people, school years, jobs, and more, finding new places to live, taking care of our families and other loved ones, the marked influx of new blood (a big tip o' the hat to KenzerCo! ;>) ), the finalizing of so much editing so much of the board needed (THANK YOU Peredhil, Ayshela, and Alaeha) the wild and amazing upsurge in the guilds contribution to the site <you guys are amazing!>, and among many other things in our lives here and everywhere else, as well a very, very obvious and honestly so uplifting and powerful a regrowth of the togtherness, trust and friedship we've shared as a site like I haven't seen in so long that it makes me want to sing. (which, btw, be glad you can't hear- I'm terribly off-key without my tapes or CDs playing. {:>p) To sum up, we're very definitely moving forward as a website and a community in great leaps and bounds, so to all old friends and every new one- thank you. I'm prouder and happier than I've been in a long time, and I *know* I'm not alone. We wouldn't be here without ya!!!!]

Original thread deleted by author request.

Ozymandias happens by Katzaniel's booth just then. He smiles as he sees her, opens his mouth to say something, then stops abruptly as his eyes widen, reading the mini-booth sign after the main one. "Now that's a heck of a request!" Snatching a ream of paper, he begins scrawling hastily, filling the page. After eyeing his work, it is crumpled into a little ball and tossed over his shoulder. "No." More scrawling. Another examination. "No." Scrawling. Examination. Tossed. "No." Scrawl, examine, toss. "No..." This continues for hours. (OOC: That's a toughie! But give me time, oh yes...)

Lamont was seen little by his companions during the visit to the zoo, except for at roll calls, and once when Napoleon spotted him alone, gazing pensively at the chimpanzees. Upon return to the asylum, he remained very quiet, and offered nothing but silent, polite compliance when they were all herded this way and that in the aftermath of the second and third killings. Jammeez, later that day finds an odd thing in her pocket: An oversized plastic ring, painted silver, and inset with a deep crimson plastic jewel. So wonders irritably and (though she hesitated to admit it even to herself) slightly anxiously how it had gotten there. (OOC: I vote das Itchy)

Ozymandias calmly walks up to the notice, produces an inked quill from his sleeve, and signs it Ramses, the Second. He too sports a button- a pair, actually. The first reads: Official Middle Class Citizen I Support Everybody The second reads: Salinye is too charismatic for my own good

In the midst of yet another Friday celebration, Ozymandias has joined in the fun until he spies Xaious, Master of Time. Xaious in turn, spies Ozy. They glare at one another. ... Hours pass. Their eyes narrow. ... A week later, they take up fighting stances. Ozymandias' boots' flames flicker quietly. Xaious' boots in turn, clink almost imperceptibly as he changes his footing. ... November arrives. The leaves have changed on the trees, and the people of the Mighty Pen prepare for winter. Ozymandias shouts a battlecry, and erupts into flames. A split second after Ozymandias begins his cry, Xaious answers ferociously with his own, and an aura of burning chi engulfs him. It smells vaguely like cherry Kool-Aid. ... It is 3001, The beginning of a new century. Robots... Air cars.. Bah. The combatants leap into the air, both screaming in defiant unison, "KA-ME-HA-ME- HA!!!!!" ...as they click the toes of their boots together, sending towering infernos of chi at each other. ... The end of time. The two blasts hit, and the world blows up anyway. (Merry Friday)

Epilogue Two vast and trunkless legs of lamb lie on Ozymandias' dinner plate. He sits quietly, hands folded in his lap looking as serene as any Pennite has seen him in a long time. Slowly, he takes one in hand, raises it to his mouth, and when the jury-rigged loudspeaker behind him begins to play music, fairly lunges at it, tearing off a massive chunk. Ozy chews messily and happily as the music plays. 'Cause, I'm...Slim Shady...Yes, I'm the real Shady...all you other...Slim...Shadys...are just...imitating...so...won't the real Slim Shady...Please stand up...Please, stand...up... Valdar wanders in, clutching his ears for dear life. "Say, Oz?" "Mm? Whu cn I dr fr yeh?" "What on Earth are you listening to?", he asks still a bit too loudly. Ozymandias swallows and smiles placidly at him. "It's William Shatner's Eminem album. He does all of these spoken word performances..." "But why are you listening to this??", Valdar demanded, hands still firmly clamped over his highly (no matter how much he now regretted it) sensitive ears. He squinted up at the speaker. "...what's that whimpering?" "That?" Ozymandias laughed and waved a hand dismissively. "That's Wyvern. He's in there with Shatner right now. It's been over a week, I think I'll unlock the door soon." Valdar goggled at the Loremaster. Ozymandias seemed not to notice. "I suppose I'll tell him that he isn't really cursed to be allergic to geld, too." This made the planeswalker look at his friend even more askance. Ozymandias smiled slyly. "A liberal dose of itching powder on his savings, you see." "I see..." Meanwhile... The very next morning, Tyrion woke to find a finely polished gleaming white skull by his head. Closed in its teeth was a note. It read: Dear Tyrion, A letter of your own, to lay any fears to rest. Though it breaks my heart, Katzaniel made her choice, fairly, and without deception. To quote the vernacular; 'You won fair and square'. Of course I have none for Katzaniel, but I also bear you no ill will. So I wish you and dear Katz the best for the rest of your lives together. (Oh, and pay no attention to burning effigies of you. That's just my way of blowing off a little steam) Sincerely, ~Ozymandias~

Ozymandias sits at his desk, parchments waiting to be read, completed, or filled lie scattered about in vague piles, as well as an open inkwell, now dried quill pen, and a very, very cold cup of tea. His distraction du moment came from the pair of cymbals he held in his hands and gazed out at intently from under his thick eyebrows. Suddenly bringing his hands together with terrific speed, the two instruments collide with a CRASHHH! Ozymandias sits quietly for several minutes after that, as though waiting for something. When no reaction comes, he calmly sets them down next to his chair. Running a hand yet again through thoroughly mussed gray hair, he returns his attention to the sheaf of writing directly in front of him, his frown ever so slightly deeper.

Happy Birthday, from your oldest (and arguably most successful) multimage.

Too few clues...no-one in my wing has ever seemed to have the werewithal or desire to kill...except, perhaps for Rena, 'desperate times and desparate measures' have sadly driven people to worse...but Eyremon...I've often wondered...he lives his fantasies so completely...was he ever a soldier of some sort? That could be troublesome, if things get much worse... (OOC: Too few clues, ineed, but I've gotta vote on someone. I choose Eyremon.)

Damn! There are so many disassociative personalites in here, to say the least. Then there are the multiples...My God, what has begun here? Who started it? Who can end it? Lamont conitnues to sit against the wall and stare at nothing, far too anxious to sleep.

I really do wish they'd allow us some Brandy, at least..., laments Lamont silently. His hand had lost all feeling five minutes ago now, but since her death grip on it seemed to calm poor, weeping Rena, he said nothing to stop her, and continued to murmur comfort. One small measure of peace in here was valuable, especially now.