Degorram

The Cheer Mynx clone, breaking from character, immidiately stopped smiling and took on a very Dego-ish scowl. "Yessss," she growled, eyes sparking. "But of course, like, Wyvie. And after that, like, lets go get some curtains and, like, play with those. It was ever so much, like, fun last time!"

Degorram stared down at the scribbled map in front of her. There were two reasons it was impossible to decipher: one, it had been penned in a frilly pink ink that sparkled, and two, the one who had drawn it was obviously blind. On the side, in a curly and slightly uncertain hand, was written a note. Hiii Dego! Like, something TOTALLY came up so could you take care of things for me this week? You could like, consider it a trial or job interview or something! Good luck! xx ~CM She couldn't help it. The corner of her mouth quirked up and she chuckled. Then with a renewed determination, she scanned the paper covered with pink squiggles for a clue. There! At the top left corner there was a star labeled "Ozzzzy's Rmm". Again Dego laughed. The words had been spelled correctly, but in the trouble of writing them blindly some of the letters had been squashed together. "To Ozzy's Room then," Dego muttered with a wolfish grin. **** "Come...*ow*....in," Wyvern said as there was a knock on the door to Ozzy's office. There was Cheer now! His tail stinger trembled a little at the thought, the gold catching his eye and making him jump. In pursuit of what had been geld to his slightly swollen eyes, he fell out of his chair into a heap of pain. "OWWW!" Dego stood in the doorway, watching Wyvern wrestle with his tail as he sought to get a better look at the stinger, his grunts of exertion interrupted periodically by whimpered "ows". "Have I come at a bad time, Wyvern love?" Wyvern froze and looked up at the strange voice. "You're not Cheer," he said, puzzled. Dego smirked. Not yet... she thought. There was a quivering about her body as the molecules shifted and suddenly Cheer Mynx was standing there, clad in shimmery pink. Wyvern stared. "Nice......trick....."

This story is in remembrance to all the good times I had with my dearest friends at school. The characters are based off of how we actually act around each other (with a little drama added, but all the violence and fawning is real). They are as follows: Minion 1 being myself, Minion 2 being Kikuyu, Lord Amnex being my friend Alex, the Esteemed and Revered Lady Librarian being my friend Kate, and the Lady Laura being my friend Laura. Honestly it would be even more hilarious than it is if you knew us as we are and saw us interact. But it's a good story without, so have at it. I expect this to be a saga, as I will be remembering a lot. They are all leaving me this year.... *A note before I begin* The name Amnex is copyright of Alex Couch. *A second note before I begin* To Wyvern, who will probably read this: this is what a true minion looks like. Tremble and be thankful that I've already been fully indoctrinated as a minion to someone else. Minion 1 crouched at the base of the throne, staring at the shiny black boots that belonged to her master. She wanted to seize one of the boots and run away with it, making the overlord chase her to retrieve it, but knew that the action would only earn her a hearty smack. The back of her head was still tingling from the last rebuke (which had been enacted upon her skull only moments before for touching the overlord’s hair). At the thought of the hair she raised her eyes to stare in awe at the cascading brown locks that were pulled back behind his ears. Her lips twitched into a smile as she remembered how much fun it was to touch… Noticing her gaze, the overlord looked down and made a threatening motion with his hand. Minion 1 smiled sweetly and looked back down at his boots. “The Court has begun,” the overlord’s scribe said loudly, and the Minotaur guards that lined the great hall in which the overlord took residence banged their spears against the floor. “Let’s get this over with,” the overlord sighed, leaning his head on one arm and yawning. “Are you bored, Alex-chan?” Minion 1 asked. “I told you not to call me that in court,” the overlord growled, glaring down at her. Minion 1 smiled. “But it is the title of my affection,” she said, turning to place her hands on the arm of his throne and peek over its edge. The overlord raised an eyebrow and turned back to the peasants who had begun to line up in front of him. Cowering and hunched, the first peasant crept up to stand several feet away from the overlord. “The well in the south village has begun to dry up,” he said in a quavering voice. “We ask for the tools to dig a new one.” “Granted,” the overlord said with another yawn. The peasant, looking as if he had just escaped death, steadied himself and bowed out of the room. And so the list went on and on. None of it was interesting to Minion 1, so she concerned herself with playing with her bare toes and the bells that adorned her colorful outfit (which she had made herself and the master couldn’t stand because it was completely different from her usual armor-cloth uniform but let her wear on Tuesdays anyway). Only once was her attention attracted by the proceedings: A peasant, apparently irritated about something, marched up to the throne. His demeanor of self confidence was what first caught Minion 1’s eye. This was going to be good. “The taxes of the eastern province have been raised again,” he said gruffly, glaring at the overlord. The overlord’s dark green eyes narrowed and he sat up in his chair. “You have failed to grow enough crops again,” he replied darkly. At the overlord’s tone, the angry peasant seemed to deflate a little. One of the minotaur guards had stepped forward to stand like a great statue next to him. Apparently the thirteen foot bulk of well armed beast took away some of the peasant’s courage. “Our crops are just late this year,” the peasant said. “If you could just give us more time….” The overlord’s face turned stormy and he bristled with anger. “Gramrinn,” he said. The minotaur standing next to the peasant snorted in response, the great gust of breath knocking the peasant’s hat off his head. “Please escort this man outside of the walls. Take him to the coal mines.” “Yes my lord Amnex,” the minotaur said, his deep voice sending another gust of wind over the now terrified peasant. With one arm the soldier heaved the peasant over one shoulder and carried him screaming from the court hall. Minion 1 traced one of the patterns on the mosaic floor and let a spider crawl onto her finger. Lord Amnex sighed and rubbed his face as the last of the peasants left the hall. “Finally,” he groaned. “Does Alex-chan need cheering up?” Minion 1 asked hopefully. “Do you want me to cut your pay again?” Lord Amnex asked. Minion 1 paused in calculation and finally turned to beam up at the overlord. “But you have cut five years of my pay already,” she said joyfully. “I would gladly work for free only to stay at your side.” “That’s just creepy,” Lord Amnex grumbled half heartedly. Minion 1 changed the subject. “May I have a jester’s hat?” “You can’t go into battle with a jester’s hat.” “Well, what if it was made of metal? And the jingly-thingies were daggers?” “You’d kill yourself wearing that. I’m not paying for one.” Minion 1 crouched down and pouted a little. “But why?” she asked softly. The overlord’s eyes grew large and he leaned over the arm of his throne to stare frightfully down at his minion. “Because!!” “But WHY?” Minion 1 wailed back. She loved baiting her master. The overlord glared and beckoned for Minion 1 to come closer. Minion 1 did so and he slapped her on the cheek. But it didn’t even hurt and she danced away the next moment. “Why don’t you do something useful and get me a drink?” the overlord growled. “Would you like some tea? Or milk and cookies? There are some graham crackers in the kitchen…” “I mean alcohol, minion!” the overlord yelled. “Bring me some strong alcohol!” “I’ll go get the Esteemed and Revered Lady Librarian,” Minion 1 said. Lord Amnex slapped a hand over his eyes and sighed. Then he sat up and looked around, frowning. Just before Minion 1 left, he stopped her and spoke. “Where is Minion 2?” Minion 1 paused at the door and for the first time looked antsy about the answer she had to give. “Minion 2 has joined Lady Laura in ‘skipping the country’. She requests that you sign her resignation.” Minion 1 fled for the library before Lord Amnex could respond.

*knock knock knock* CheerMynx opened the heavy wooden door to the chapel, coming nose to nose with the person standing outside. She squeaked slightly in surprise as she stared at the swirling colors of the set of eyes in front of her. Degorram stepped back and sniffed. "Good day Cheer." "Oh..um...like, hello!" she said, quickly regaining her composure. A huge grin spread across her face and she tossed a few stray locks of lucious hair over her shoulder. "How can I help you?" Degorram breathed in tightly and sighed, trying to keep from rolling her eyes or appearing displeased. "I hear you've been in need of an eyesight minion. I'm hear to apply for the....the job." Around the corner a shadow snorted in laughter. Degorram's eye twitched. "Oh sure Dego! Like, come on in!" CheerMynx giggled. She led the prickling shapeshifter to a red squishy pew and sat down, tucking her long (and mostly bare) legs beneath her. Degorram made a mental note to pray that the minion's costume wouldn't be so....sexy. "So," CheerMynx said, bubbling over with apparent excitement. "Tell me a bit about yourself and why you'd make a good eyesight minion." Degorram noticed from the corner of her eye that the shadow had moved and was now hiding behind a banner, listening intently. "Well," she began, trying to sound loose and friendly, "I am a shapeshifter, so if one day you want a puppy, I can do that. Or if one day you want a parrot...you get my drift." "Groovy," CheerMynx purred. "I've had two years of experience being a minion already," Degorram continued. "Oooh, who's minion are you?" CheerMynx interrupted, eyes alight with interest. Degorram paused, her jaw tightening. "Wyvern's," she said shortly. "And," she said, continuing before CheerMynx could say anything, "since you and said scaly-news-reporter are...partners...I wouldn't be drawn in two directions or have to be spread thin in my duties. Plus I enjoy the Almost Report very much and would love to be able to help out with it in any way." "How exciting!" she laughed, clapping her paws. Degorram's ears twitched irritably. She forced a grin onto her face and managed to grate out a simple "Indeed." "Well, thanks soooo much for applying," CheerMynx said. "I'll definitely, like, keep you in mind." "Thanks for hearing me out," Degorram said, standing up quickly. "Well, I'll leave you to your important business," she said. "I'm sure you're very busy." "Not really," CheerMynx said. "I don't have much to do at the moment." She brightened as a thought struck her. "Hey! We could go see Wyvern! I've got this new cheer that I haven't shown him yet...." Degorram couldn't tell if her face had gone crimson or white at the thought. "Oh, no," she choked, "I couldn't impose. Please have a nice day." The door slammed behind her. *** Kikuyu had already left by the time Degorram escaped into the hall. As the shapeshifter panted against a wall, the ninja rolled on the floor and laughed.

Degorram clicked her tv off and chuckled, shaking her head. "This just in: Almost-dragonic guild leader turned into rodent for destroying Dr. Evil's swivel chair. The Doctor assures us that this is a temporary change, but experts and fans alike aren't so sure. Mad Scientist and Pig are working hard to come up with a cure that they hope will have no interesting side effects. The local Pen shape shifter was unable to make a comment on their progress or chance of success as she was incapacitated by laughter." She turned aside to an imaginary second camera. "Meanwhile, back at the Hall of Justice, CheerMynx is as usual adding a little spunk to our lives. Word has it that she's soon to win the 'Most Spunky Intern'. Also meriting an award is our own Wyvern, coming in at a close first for 'Most Easily Distracted By Beautiful Felines'. Who the second place winner is may not be determined until later poll counts are added up." Degorram sighed and leaned back on her couch. "I wonder when I'm going to get a job as co-anchor." The very thought brought a bubble of laughter to her chest.

Amazing. Truly amazing. Whatever you do, humor or seriousness, you seem to do it so effortlessly. Love love love.

I totally remember this. One of my favorite things you shared with us. I really miss the completely creative works you brought to Voices! I stand in awe as your faithful follower and pupil.

The checkers are swirling in dizzying blurs, and lights are flashing in a distinguished ruse. Crack open my eyes to see the mess of a rainbow's vomit on my shoes. Falling falling falling down through sparkles. Have I come to the rabbit's hole? Undescribable undiscribable undiskribabul the pink and rippling knoll. It's a strange and surreal sensation of NeOn goldfish swimming through my hair. The leaves of silver filaments and trees that grow underwear. A world of growing frowels and dying zilards. The rabbit runs across my feet. Spread button wings and flutter to the sky where the cotton candy nymphs I'll meet.

Okeh, so Kikuyu and I are pursuing our quill quest this summer. Whether it succeeds or not....we'll see. We'll have more time to get it involved when school lets out. Until then, this intro is all we're giving you guys to think on and get your ideas out there. For the background info you'll need: http://www.patrickdurham.net/themightypen/index.php?show...c=15994&hl= So the problem: The Keep is going to be attacked by a Necromancer who has a thing for Dego and Kikuyu. He wants to steal the Tower for his own home, since Kikuyu and Dego blew up the last one he tried to steal. The good news: Kikuyu and Dego know the extent of his power and he can be beaten if everyone helps. The Solution: kick Necro's butt before he takes over with his spells and kills anyone. And thus the intro begins!! Degorram sat low in the chair she had placed in front of her window, twiddling her thumbs absently as she pierced the night with a bright red glare. She had let her hair grow out a little in the back so that the still uneven locks fell to her shoulders and the bangs hung across her eyes. Through the strands that painted black lines across her vision she watched the moon rise. She shifted a little and lifted her hands, clasping them and resting her thumbs against her mouth. The moonlight breached the tower that held her room and shafts of the white-blue light filtered through her window, sending glares of light traveling up her leather clothing. The only sound that echoed off her walls was a deadly tapping of her foot. If anyone had looked in, they wouldn't have been able to guess what she was looking at with such venom in her eyes. Not that venom was an unnatural thing to be occupying her features at this time of night. But that, too, was a mystery that very few had been privileged to know. There was a knock at the door. Degorram promptly ignored it. After a moment of silence the door creaked open and another clad in leather entered the room. Kikuyu walked up to stand by Degorram's side, staring into the night with her. For a long time neither spoke. "You can't keep spending your evenings like this," Kikuyu said softly. Degorram didn't answer. The tapping of her foot continued to serve as the only outlet to her subdued rage. "You're not going to get revenge by killing the moon." Degorram's knuckles cracked as she clenched her hands tighter. The blood-red almond eyes sparked. A translucent black smoke peeled off her skin and waved around her like flames. "Stop," Kikuyu demanded sharply. Suddenly, but still silent, Degorram launched from the chair and walked over to the window, trailing the barely existent smoke. She shoved her hands in her pockets and leaned against the window sill, pressing her forehead to the cold glass. "A necromancer," she finally said, her voice trembling with rage. "Why didn't we fight back against a measly necromancer?" "You felt his power," Kikuyu said, the sharpness in her voice replaced with calm. "You already know the answer to that." Degorram did not answer. The smoke continued to shroud her. "Come on," Kikuyu said. "Let's go for a walk." She turned halfway to the door, still watching her sister. Degorram did not turn to look back. Pressing harder into the glass she slid through it. "I prefer to fly," she said as she dropped into the night. **** "She thinks she could have beaten him," Kikuyu said, stirring her tea absently and staring at the table that separated her and Wyvern. "Or at least she wishes she could have beaten him. Losing is humiliating as it is, but surrender is unforgivable in her eyes. We've never abandoned a fight without trying before." Wyvern nodded, a frown upon his scaly brow. "I can undersssstand that. How long do you think ssshe'll hold onto thisss?" Kikuyu sighed put her tea down. "Perhaps forever. Dego's never been the kind to vocalize her feelings. She bottles them up. It's dangerous as it is for her emotional health, but since she's a shifter...." "Even more ssssso," Wyvern said, completing the thought with a small shudder. "Do you want me to talk to her?" He tapped his claws on the table, the sound reminding Kikuyu of rain on a metal roof. She shook her head. "Talking won't do any good. She needs encouragement of another kind. She needs an outlet." Her eyes hardened and her mouth curled downward. "What she honestly needs is to be broken. But we'll have to be there to catch her when that happens." "B-broken?" Wyvern asked. "Ssssounds a little....harssssh, dontcha think?" "Not at all. It's had to be done before. When the pressure is too much, you have to make an opening for the energy to drain." Wyvern swished his tail and nervously scratched a horn. "And how isssss thisss sssort of thing done? You ssssay sssshe's been unapproachable reccccently." Kikuyu shrugged. "It's different every time. Usually the emotions she bottles are all despair, sadness, and those are easy to break free." She leaned forward and rested her elbows on the table, sighing. "But this is an entirely different case. She's never bottled up her rage. She's usually very good at expelling that sort of energy," she said with a chuckle. "Anger issss tricky to be ssssure," Wyvern said. "Could it be that perhapssss you've read her wrong, though?" Kikuyu frowned. "How do you mean?" "Issss there ssssomething elsssse that might be bothering her? I mean, sssshe doessssn't usssssually glare at the night doessss sssshe?" Kikuyu delved into her memory. For a moment Wyvern just watched the wheels turn within her brain. Then her eyes lit up as she remembered. She straightened suddenly, mouth slightly open. An image of her sister glaring through a frosted window at a drizzly night locked itself behind her eyes. "What?" Wyvern asked. "She's sensed him," Kikuyu breathed. "We must find her immediately."

Degorram blinked and raised an eyebrow as she sat on the couch watching TV. She turned her head and glanced at Kikuyu, who was sharpening a knife and not paying any attention to the News Report at all. "I don't think Wyvern likes our Intern very much," Degorram said sarcastically with a small smile. "Mmmhmmm...." Kikuyu replied absently. "You're not listening to me." "Of course not. I'm busy." "Then stop being busy." "Is it perhaps our licckle Dego is.....jealous?" "NEVER." "I don't believe you." "What's not to believe?!? Why!?!?!" "Because you're needy like that." "I'm not." "Are too." "I'm not listening to you anymore." "Then my goal has been accomplished."

Awww, teh Wyvern is blushing! *huggle*

Well, honestly I had less to go off of from the video for the man in white, so yes, Light was subdued a little, even though he did win. Thing is, the forces of light don't have to work very hard or make themselves very persuasive to win over the darkness, don't you think? Thanks for commenting Wyv. <3

Oooh, I love it! The dialogue is so captivating and yet beautifully simple. Please finish! I'm too simple minded to figure out what the sound was.

I sat with my back to the cold concrete slab of a bridge support. The concrete flooring that chilled my legs and numbed my butt was soggy in places where the recent rains had leaked through the roof that the bridge above my head created. The steady growl of cars zooming over my head was like a sedative and I stared death-like at the slight vegetation that grew on the side of the interstate at a distance from my shelter. Scraps of newspaper, food wrappers, and other trash floated about in the cross winds that blew off the roads. I sensed movement through my reverie, but didn't look to confirm it. My imagination had told me hundreds of times before now that I wasn't alone, and I had stopped checking. But I couldn't ignore the steady, casual footsteps that were steadily growing louder as they echoed off of the concrete. A shadow stepped in front of the sun's piercing white rays and I squinted, glancing up at the figure there. A tall man stood before me, scrutinizing me in absolute silence. At first I was startled by how thin he was, but the paper-white cheeks were not hollowed. He wasn't starving, like I was. His outfit was simple elegance: long black pants and shirt, all shrouded by a short black dress coat. His shoes were similarly nice looking and the sun glinted off their polished surface. Long, straggly dark hair framed his face and caressed his chest. A pair of full lips and a slightly flat nose adorned the visage, but had an appearance of being diminished by shadow. A ragged top hat was pulled over his eyes; a few small holes could be seen near its top. In his white gloved hands he held a black cane. It didn't take but a few tiny details to give the man a macabre countenance. The wind blew little strings that were attached to his belt around his feet. This same wind blew his hair away from his cheeks. Either painted or tattooed upon the left was a large tear drop, and on the right was a pair of dice that seemed to sprout from the corner of his mouth. His lips were traced and accentuated with dark coloring, the sides turned up in a sardonic smile. The newspapers swirled around his feet. I found my throat refused to make any noise, and even the breath in my chest was arrested as I felt him stare into my very soul with dark eyes that I could not see. His appraising gaze suggested of a pessimistic nature and an even more terrifying rage. In the same leap of imagination I could see him offering to trade my soul or smudging me from the face of the earth with one terrible word. He leaned on his cane and crossed one of his ankles behind the supporting leg. His lips barely moved, but I heard his deep, velvety voice speak to me. His words flowed like liquid in a language I did not know, but the musical quality of the words entranced me. I stared, still dumb in a suspended animation. He crouched before me and held his cane over his knees. Even at a closer distance his eyes were still hidden by the tattered brim of his hat. Again he spoke, the breath of his words making his long hair flutter. My own shaggy locks blew away from my face as he leaned in and chanted against my cheek. By the tone of his voice I felt he was asking me a series of questions. At last my voice cracked into function. "Are you death?" I asked stupidly, eyes dull. The man leaned back on his heels and observed me from that angle. His face did not crinkle into emotion, but I felt I had amused him. "Eeyeh," he said. I did not understand the word, but his attitude bid me know that he had answered in the negative. "Who are you?" All sorts of fantastical ideas had jumped into my imagination already. A demon? A goblin of some sort? Simply a nightmare that I would wake up from? Perhaps a vengeful spirit bored by its own presence. He did not respond but held out one of his sleek, gloved hands to me. Not understanding, not in control of my own body, I watched as my hand joined his own and I stood by his side. The man was much taller than I, and looking up at him I felt I was gazing into the depths of a well, the darkness cast by the brim of his hat never ending. And yet as if he willed it, the shadows disappeared and I stared into his eyes. Lined in dark coloring, like his lips, triangles had been drawn at the bottom and top of his eyes. The resulting effect was the rage I had seen in my mind's eye. Strangely, though, I felt no fear, only resignation. Suddenly before us there was another man. He had come from nowhere, but stared at the man in black with a gaze that I thought was at once as dull as mine and as fierce as the man's beside me. His white shirt and pants fluttered only slightly in the wind, but the strings that hung from his belt blew like grasses around his ankles. His hair was a dark brown that hung into dark brown eyes They were accentuated by a slightly flat nose and full lips. I felt I was looking at an opposite image of the man in black to my left. He spoke, in the same musical language I had hear before, but instead of the dark murmur of the man in black, his voice was full of life and hope and sent thrills through my spine. At his words the man in black cocked his head ever so slightly and tapped my shoulder, questioning the man before us with a phrase that sounded as if it feigned innocence. The darkness had shielded his eyes once more. The man in white nodded softly and answered. "Hai." Again I sensed the amusement of the man in black, but this time it was mixed with a terrible feeling of danger. He patted my shoulder and stepped towards the man in white. At his touch my legs became frozen to the ground. My thoughts of fleeing the conflict disappeared from my mind. The man in black drew close to the man in white and began to circle him, pouring his words into his ears as he had done to me. His breath stirred the other man's hair, and his words were persuasive as well as questioning. The man in white ignored him, unblinking. Unanswered, the man in black became enraged and his movements were quicker, more filled with desire to inflict damage. Yet he did not touch the man except for with his breath. His frightful eyes were once again exposed to pierce him. He breathed raggedly and his questions were filled all the more with hate. At last the man in white stepped into a break in the other' rage and inserted his own voice. Again the hope in his voice and the beautiful melody of his words caressed my spine. There was no trace of frustration or anger in his attitude, just firm reasoning and command. I felt some feeling touch my toes, freeing them from the ice of the demon's touch. The man in black stilled as the man in white spoke and listened, drawing back from his tirade a fraction of an inch. When the other had finished he began to ask another question but was cut off by the man in white, who spoke again with the same tireless patience. Disgusted with the answer, the man in black turned to gaze at me from darkness and turned away. He flung his shoulders, as if tossing a burden off his back, and strode into the darkness. For a moment I met the soft eyes of the man in the white, and then he too was gone. I was completely oblivious to what had transpired between the two men. And yet the sun seemed to be shining a little brighter now. At last on my feet, I turned to face the vegetation at a distance and took a few faltering steps towards it. As I grew used to the movement again, my steps gained confidence until I was on my way again, leaving the area of conflict behind me. Inspired by Libra, by Mucc.

OOC: Kikuyu, that was awesome! Remember this, since you seem to forget so often.

HAIIIIIIIIII FREYA! Nice to finally see you on the pen!

Lindsey had never seen a hotdog with a heavenly glow before. But at that second, with her insides practically eating themselves, the little pink sausages had never looked more perfect. With trembling hands she took the hotdog and ate it as slowly as she could manage: which was two bites. She sighed in satisfaction and looked over at one of the others. The girl was fingering her food with disgust, practically green. "You going to eat that?" Lindsey asked.

Ohhhh...woops! Sorry! Mah lips are sealed!

Sooo......what're your thoughts guys? I have my suspicions.....

Footsteps echo on the rock, And light from water sparkles on the craggy walls of tier and spire to light the cave with flame and fire. The breathing sound of flutt'ring air capers round to join the sound of water dripping into pools and footsteps of such wayward fools. The maw of stone yawns at the rear, inviting those who stumble through to follow deep down to the black and tread the misty, rocky track. And further further to the end a darkness waits with eerie grin to swallow such who yet survive- to stalk all those who stay alive. For though they find the realm of rock and flickering lights that lie below, those who see the gloaming sight know not the peril of their flight.

Lindsey didn't even bother to write down the information the program was giving her. Taking it all and shifting it to the back of her mind, she stood and looked around her small programming cubicle to see if there was anything worth taking. The video jabbered in the background, ignored, and she only gave it a slight glare when it mentioned that her computer was going to go psycho in mere seconds. She grabbed her wallet, all the cash she had brought with her, and a single piece of old pizza. Nonchalantly she slid her iPod in her pocket and strolled down the thin halls of the software building, headed for the bathroom. She locked the door behind her just as the elevator gave an insidious ping. In silence she turned and slid the window open. Standing on the toilet, she slid her thin frame through and landed on the thick heap of trash two stories below. It jarred her, but seconds later she was up and walking down the sidewalk towards downtown, brushing dust off of her AC*DC t-shirt and cramming the pizza in her mouth. Stressful situations always made her hungry. She supposed that her long, wavy brown hair and bright blue eyes were enough to convince the desk clerk that her middle name really was Alice, and that her father had placed that name on her ticket. A part of her, however, wished that it was simply her stunning intellect and quick wit that had gotten her onto this cramped and human-infested plane. It wasn't likely: for some reason people had always taken a while to get past her exterior to discover who she was. The flight was painfully long and only halfway through her stomach began to growl audibly. She began to wish that she had taken two slices of the old pizza and politely asked for another bag of peanuts. Exhausted, she exited the plane in a flurry. An assault of different airport restaraunt smells found her immidiately, but she remembered that she was expecting a call and stood still, counting the three seconds that seemed to take forever. Finally, the PA system crackled into life...."Ves, you have a call at the information desk. Ves, a call at the information desk." She strode quickly towards the desk and answered the phone, turning away and hoping that the clerk wasn't listening in. "Yes?"

Matrix!!! WhooOO! Ok...character character character....... Name: Lindsey Mitchell Occupation: video game programmer Computer Alias: Ves Lindsey has spent her life fighting the stereotypes of her sex, and everytime someone is surprised at her occupation (or rather her genious when producing written code) she gets sullen and angry. She has a bad temper, a sharp tongue, and is always hungry. When she's not sitting in the cramped offices of her fellow game producers spending 18-20 hours on the computer and eating stale pizza, she sits at home and lives her online life. Her friends wonder if she sleeps at all. Before becoming a programmer full time she once wrote story plots for the games. Her creativity often leads her to take strange risks in her coding that almost always turn out spectacular.

Draw your sword and counter me so I may fight you. You cannot defeat me: I've already won. Blades of silver swirling as I prance around you. Sparks begin to fly: Dance to Oblivion! Running through the forest and my breath comes shorter. Feel the eyes behind me as they chase for fun. Dodging past the stars and coming close to danger; Spread my wings and fly into Oblivion! Screaming through the void so that my ghost can hear me. Wonder where the truth has gone to in this world. Wrap my arms around you as we're torn asunder. Reach out for you hand, fall to Oblivion!

Love the repeating lines. Very cool Silver.

*slaps hand over eyes. tentacles sprout from her fingers and wrap around her head*