!

[Kalypso]

Forebodingly she eyes the stone staircase leading to the entrance of the recruiter’s office. “It’s too shut in! They’ll think I’m mad! Or am I already mad for pursuing such a conquest? The walls…they leave no where to flee, we’ll be pent up like market day chickens. You don’t want to be trapped do you? You remember what it was like don’t you? Remember the solitude, the iron-ore walls that repeatedly taunted you with your own pleas. Your own footfalls being a sole companion, the only other sound was the drip, drip, drip; from an unknown source. Eventually the sweet sanctity of sanity starts to slip away. You wake up one day and view your former self as a lost ancient relic, and surrender to the depravities of circumstance; a circumstance influenced by others. We are the fortunate ones. Why am I doing this again? Oh yeah… loneliness. Not wanting to die only being known as compost for tree saplings. My words, my experiences, and my life would just cease if I did nothing. Who am I kidding; it was you who talked me into this! Let’s get out of here before someone sees us.”

 

Tempest wags his head side to side and with a smoky snort slowly starts ascending the steps.

 

“Wait! Wait! What do you think you’re doing! Let me down, I’m not going in there! That whole ‘Carpe diem’ thing yesterday was senseless swill!”

 

The girl’s chest tightens and her stomach is seized by a whirlwind, she contemplates jumping off, but knows he’ll only scoop her back up and continue up the stairs. She cranes her head back to look over her shoulder and gazes longingly at the jagged outline of her woodland home peaking over the hillside. She faces forward, grips Tempest’s mane so tight her knuckles pale, and focuses on her current exploit.

 

Tempest reaches the last step and uses his muzzle to push down the door handle, with a little nudge the large white barricade swings open silently, Tempest canters in. The echoes of clip-clop, clip-clop bouncing off the marble floor announce their entrance.

 

A large wooden desk, with two neat stacks of papers partly occupying its surface, sits parallel to the doorway. A petite older woman sits behind the orderly desk looking over a white parchment; she glances up from her reading and looks a tad annoyed. She observes an unusual large stallion with fur comparable to the darkest black velour, with ominous eyes of swirling molten lava eddying into two circular abysses. The creature’s rump is dappled with multicolored oak and maple leaves that continue on up its back to a girl who’s rigidly sitting astride the beast. The reds, oranges, yellows and greens are woven throughout the girl’s hair with what appears to be thin vines, creating an elaborate headdress that makes her waist-length, redwood colored hair look like an autumn festival. A greenish hue paints the girls high cheekbones and small strait nose. The pale peaks of her pointed ears contrasting with the earthy fall colors threaded throughout her locks. Her anxiety-filled amber eyes darting wildly around the room, the girl looks trapped.

 

The stallion dipped its head to the floor so that his nose was almost touching the cool shiny surface, and stretched his legs out as far as he could in front of him, creating a slope. The girl, taken by surprise, slid down rump first sending foliage cascading in her wake. Sitting awkwardly on the floor in front of the desk the girl, with surprising grace, rises to her feet. She fumbles with a burgundy pouch that’s cinched around her small waist and pulls forth a wadded up piece of paper.

 

“Umm…ex…excuse me, I have sorta an application I guess. It’s right here.”

With trembling hands she holds up the ball of paper, it slips from her grasp and rolls under the receptionist’s desk. The girl dives to the floor to retrieve it, and bumps the crown of her head upon emerging from the desk. She puts the wad on the top of the desk and watches as the receptionist eyes it distastefully.

 

“I’m sorry about that, let me fix it. Got a little wet earlier, and well something got a hold of it, and then umm, well never mind.”

 

The girl works out the maze of folds and places it on the desk, patting and smoothing the wrinkled paper with her palm, trying to make it look more presentable. The receptionist with her face flushed, abruptly puts her hand over the girls hand, grabs it, and removes it from the desk. She then takes the paper and places it on top of one of the piles on her desk.

 

“That will be all Miss. Your application will be reviewed.”

 

Relief washed over the girls face, bringing back her normal rose brushed cheeks. “Thank you, I appreciate it. I’ll be outside somewhere.” says the girls’ fading voice as she scuttles out the door with the stallion in tow.

 

Out of curiosity the receptionist picks up the tattered application and reads:

 

 

Taming of a Tempest

By

Kalypso

 

Brewing deep in the pits of Satan’s glory lie’s an untamed gale.

Its beauty mars the natural demonic décor of its dwelling.

I look straight into the eye of the storm and feel its ail.

Its turbulent force misunderstood by many, a plea for freedom begs its bellowing.

 

Tis the spirit of the tamer that drives one to save a suffering beast.

 

The tempest rears its deadly head,

The fatal flames will ensure its lair’s fed,

Tis in my blood to stand my tread,

As I grow weaker I fill with dread,

In a few moments, I’ll surely be dead.

 

Before my last legs have been reached,

I look into the eyes of the beautiful beast,

Tranquility and peace is all that is seen,

And I know I am safe for now I am its queen.

[Wyvern]

Melba the Almost Secretary of Initiates flattens the wet application poem on her desktop, snickering to herself and drawing comparisons between the new applicant's energy and that of a hurricane. Grinning and marking her personality as a plus point in the application process, she adds the poem to the pile of paperwork accumulating on the desktop and continues her sweeping, glumly awaiting the Elder of Initiates' arrival...

 

After an extremely lengthy period of absence, the door to the Office finally slams open and Wyvern barges in. Frantically rushing up to his desk, the overgrown lizard jumps into his chair and immediatly begins filing through paperwork while mumbling various curses under his breath. Melba sighs and slowly approaches reptilian Elder, waving Kalypso's application in front of his face.

 

"Mr. Wyvern-"

 

"Not now Melba." interrupts Wyvern hastily. "I've got to find my tax return forms in this mess before it's too late!"

 

"I already threw them in the paper shredder..." grumbles Melba, a small grin of victory making it's way across her face. "Here, why don't you look this application over instead... the poor girl's being waiting outside for God-knows-how-long-now."

 

Wyvern sighs and nods, whimpering about his lost documents as he snatches the application from from Melba's hands and reads it over a few times. Nodding and grinning to himself, the overgrown lizard notes that it's well written before reaching into his desk and pulling out an ancient Dwarven Beer Whistle used for calling Elder Dwarves...

 

After Wyvern blows into the instrument, it takes only around five minutes before Bravery the Elder Dwarf arrives in the Office. Courageously jumping into the room by means of the open window, the Dwarf exclaims:

 

"I arrived as quickly as possible from the far ends of the Pen, Elder Wyvern... how may I be of service?"

 

Wyvern grins and hisses, propping his scaly feet onto his desktop as he lazily responds:

 

"Please go fetch the applicant Kalypso... she should be waiting right outside..."

 

Bravery's face goes blank and he grumbles, nodding and marching outside to get Kalypso as he ponders over the reptilian Elder's laziness. After a few moments of searching, he finds the applicant and leads her back into the Office.

 

Wyvern grins to Kalypso as she enters back into the Office and gives her a scaly thumbs up, stamping her application ACCEPTED as he hisses:

 

"Might you be interested in any Almost Dragonic Brand Nightmare Saddles™...?"

 

;-)

 

OOC: A nicely written and roleplayed application, Kalypso, and a good application poem... Certainly ACCEPTED. Welcome to the Mighty Pen! I apologize for the long wait for a proper response, and hope to read and write more things with you in the future. Once again, welcome!

[Quincunx]

"Oh dear, oh dear," drifts into the hall from the far end of the stairway, feminine and brainless. "One of the pegasi must have gotten loose. What is Wyvern trying to do with my sweeties!?! . . .although these hoofprints are awfully big even for Mogmumble. . ."

 

Rydia keeps her eyes on the ground and ear-tips alert as she passes Kalypso in the hall. Even with the pale elf skin, her overall effect is green-by-choice. She notices a hoof of Tempest and her ears snap to attention, then jab wildly at the air as she unfolds her wings and propels herself quickly away from the frightening horse!

 

--and, noticing Kalypso, hovers to a halt. The ears waggle again, less emphatically, then one curls into a ?

 

"You don't earspeak?" she asks aloud.

[Kalypso]

-

Tempest rears high up into the air, exhaling orange streams of illumination upon descending, scorching the once glossy floor of the recruiter’s hall. He backs up to the farthest wall and scans the room for a possible ambush.

 

“Oh my! He didn’t really mean that, he just doesn’t like the sight….umm the word s-a-d-d-l-e, “spells Kalypso, as her mind scrambles for a solution.

 

She glances back at the stallion, and he immediately finds solace in her tranquil eyes and solemnly hangs his head. She notices the charred spot marring the floor and nonchalantly takes a few steps back towards it and starts rubbing at it with the toe of her shoe.

 

“Look! It’s not so bad, it’s coming right up. A little lye and water it’ll be good as new. I’m really sorry about this. Oh I brought you these to thank you! I would have brought more but that little dwarf hustled me in here, never knew they could move so fast with such stubs….I mean stunted legs. I’ll just place them right here."

 

She glides over to the desk, her own black footprints tracking her. She places several multicolored wild flowers upon the only vacant spot on the desk. She casually curls into a low curtsy, and notices a greenish hued flying aberration distressed over a loose Pegasus. The creature’s ears are a flurry of motion, which baffles Kalypso.

 

“’Earspeak?’ I’ve never heard of such a thing.”

 

Kalypso flexes the muscles on the side of her head, causing her pale pointed ears to move slightly.

 

“I’m not even sure how you do that. I’d be willing to learn, if it’s at all possible. Oh, by the way, I’m Kalypso, and the big guy over there is Tempest…umm the horse, not the lizard, although you probably already know that. The Wyvern there just accepted me as a member.”

 

She grins sheepishly at Wyvern as she looks around at the soot-smudged floor. Her eyes hold both apology and thanks.

 

“Thank you again for accepting me sir. By any chance do you have a mop?”