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The Pen is Mightier than the Sword

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Posted

Wyvern strides into the Cabaret Room and sets a quaint birthday cake he had "borrowed" from Celes Crusador's cafe' onto a table located at the center of the room. Opening a package of Almost Dragonic Brand Candles™ and pouring them haphazardly onto the white frosting of the delicacy, the overgrown lizard rubs his scaly chin in contemplation as he tries to remember the incantation to the spell "Blaze..."

 

Mumbling a few arcane words under his mouth and waving his hands around a bit, the reptilian Elder accidentally casts "Animate Object" instead of his intended spell. He stutters as the cake suddenly grows a mouth and begins muttering:

 

"Ah geeze... look at this, I'm covered in this white filth. What are these, needles sticking out of me? Hey, who're you and what's going on here?"

 

Nervously glancing left and right, the lizard attempts to cast "Blaze" again in the hopes of silencing the loudmouthed cake, but accidentally freezes it instead. Grumbling to himself and making continual attempts at casting the spell, Wyvern crowds the room with summoned squirrels and causes it to stink like carrion before eventually giving up mid-way through what would have been a Meteor Storm spell. Sighing to himself and not realizing that the candles wouldn't have lit anyway due to their being Almost Dragonic Brand, the overgrown lizard watches as the squirrels surround the icey cake and begin nibbling on it, and desperatly exclaims:

 

"Cheyenne! I just wanted to wish you a happy birthday, wherever you are!"

 

;-)

 

OOC: Happy 30th Cheyenne. :)

Posted

As he sits musing, he wonders what he can do that is special for Cheyenne. She was the one who inspired his first published poem after all. Moreover, she was one who understood his very peculiar, even for a Christian, dealings with some of the Life Issues he was working through.

 

The floor to his left was scattered with torn pages, their torn bytes and pixels mockingly accusing him of slacking. The floor to his right was scattered with sleeping pages, their exhaustion reminding him of how hard they'd all worked on cleaning the Cabaret that day. They'd paged the pages when the birthday and bardic ravs and rages were finally completed.

 

Any time Wyvern was involved, there was always *something* to clean up.

 

Shall I compare my love to a bumble bee?

The fantastical creature who really shouldn't be?

Areodynamically, It simply cannot fly

Echoes the Scientist-Priest's tortured cry

But bumbling about it's bumble bees I see.

 

Equally eager and improbable my love is bound

To online family never met on actual ground

The healing love of the Pen I knew

Was foreshadowed in meeting you

When at Seekers of Babylon, you I found.

 

Sighs and paces toward the Cabaret, trying to find words worthy to say on this, Cheyenne's 30th Birthday.

 

Hearing squirrels, he brightens.

 

Lewis? Simon?!

 

Wyvern is panicked as he watches the room continue to fill with squirrels. As the door opens, he sees a wave of squirrels sweep through the sudden opening and knock Peredhil off his feet. The sounds of Armani tailored fabric being torn by hundreds of tiny squirrel claws comes clearly to his ears, courtesy of the "Destruction of Expensive Items" spell he has on them. The DoEI spell usually is the signal for him to either look out for Gyrfalcon, or start making a get-away...

Posted

Lady Chey!!!

 

Happy Birthday! Welcome to wonderful dirty thirty!!! (I'm not too far behind you!!!) I hope your day is filled with memories that will be special to you for a long time!

 

~Salinye :butterfly:

Posted

Gyrfalcon paused in the hallway outside the Cabaret Room, puzzled by the sounds of tearing cloth all around him. He was even more puzzled as a horde of squirrels rushed by, scampering along trailing little scraps of cloth in their wake.

 

As the squirrels petered out, Gyrfalcon cautiously advanced down the hall they had come out of, passing the occasional laggard squirrel and sighing. His eyes take in the tapestries, the lower portions having been clawed into dangling threads. At the end of the hallway Peredhil slowly rose, his expensively tailored Armani suit now merely strategically held rags.

 

"Peredhil?" Gyrfalcon said, stopping dead in his tracks in shock. "What in the name of the gods happened to you? Well, that's a stupid question, actually, since I just saw a giant horde of squirrels go by..." Gyrfalcon said, hurrying to Peredhil's side and holding out his cloak.

 

Peredhil shook his head, his thoughts fuzzy from his head being tromped on by several thousand squirrels. "Those were squirrels? I thought someone had managed to hit me with a wagon..." the Ancient half-elf muttered as he gratefully accepted Gyrfalcon's cloak and wrapped it around himself. He looked around carefully and sighed. "I suppose that means that Lewis and Simon aren't around?"

 

Gyrfalcon shrugged. "Sorry Peredhil, if they were here, they left in that horde of squirrels. Excuse me a second while I check to see what's happened in there."

 

Gyrfalcon took a deep breath and peeked around the corner, prepared to run for it if another horde of squirrels was seen.

 

Instead, he saw Wyvern staring helplessly at a pile of overstuffed squirrels, candles sticking out from various angles.

 

"Wyvern... what sort of cake is that?" Gyrfalcon said curiously, stepping into the room as he saw that the squirrels were so overstuffed that it was unlikely that they'd be able to manage a sedate walk, much less a scamper or charge.

 

Wyvern whirled around, grinning desperately. "Gyrfalcon, great to see you here! I just got here, and here these squirrels were-"

 

Gyrfalcon smirked as he cut off Wyv. "Strange I didn't see you in the hallway helping Peredhil, then."

 

Wyvern blanched. "That was Peredhil?" he said, gulping. Visions of Guido and Nuncio floated through his head, along with Peredhil's sons... particularly, Elladan.

 

Wyvern threw himself at Gyrfalcon, clutching his shoulders. "Please, you have to hide me!" Gyrfalcon sighed and disengaged Wyvern's hands. "Relax, Wyv. Peredhil wasn't hurt, and I'll pay for Peredhil's suit myself. You owe me a couple hundred more geld... but not like that's anything new, eh? What was this all for, anyway?"

 

Wyvern looked abashed but hugely relieved. "Ah... actually, it was supposed to be a birthday cake for Cheyenne. It... got a little out of hand."

 

Gyrfalcon chuckled and shook his head helplessly. "You're a master of understatement, Wyv."

 

OOC:

 

Happy Birthday, Cheyenne! ^_^

Posted

"Oh, that's right, it's Cheyenne's birthday today!"

 

With that realization, Ayshela abandoned her preparations for the Ball and hurried down to the Cabaret Room to see what preparations were necessary there.

 

Rounding the corner, she saw down the hall.. well, it looked like Gyrfalcon, helping.. someone.. in a cloak? Peculiar. Whatever, it was clearly under control. Though from the sounds of the Cabaret Room, that might not be.

 

Ayshela crept up to the doorway, frowning suspiciously. She peeked around the door, and as her mouth fell open in shock she moved to stand fully in the doorway, demanding "What in heaven's name happened HERE?!" Looking around at the tattered tapestries and scattered bits of cloth everywhere, some of them now frosting covered, she shook her head decidedly. "Never mind, come to think of it, i don't think i even want to know."

 

As her gaze slowly panned about the room, Ayshela noticed a squirrel or two, here and there, slowly trying to make their way out of the room. Even more peculiar.. When she noticed the pile of squirrels on the table, immobile after their feeding frenzy, she put her hands on her hips and said "Well! We'll just see about that!"

 

Sporting a freshly laundered, eyebrow twitching scowl, she whirled around and stalked back down to the Ballroom. She returned mere moments later, brandishing a large and very sturdy broom, the sight of which caused those squirrels who were even somewhat mobile to hasten to the door as best they could. Those who were immobile were unceremoniously dumped off the table and swept outside, along with any of their companions deemed to be moving too slowly.

 

With the squirrels out of the way, Ayshela returned to the Cabaret Room, and with a barely audible sigh set about putting it to rights. The tapestries would have to be replaced later, but at least the rest of this mess could be cleaned up.

 

Frosting... Whatever in the world???

 

In something just less than three minutes short of what seemed like forever, the room was cleaned and ready for use.

 

Standing at the doorway making sure everything was as it should be, Ayshela murmured to herself "now, wherever am i going to find a cake???"

 

OOC: A very happy birthday to you, Cheyenne! :)

Posted

"haven't worn a cape in ages," thought Peredhil as he settled Gyrfalcon's apparel around himself with a natty twirl. It really came as no surprise that it didn't fit quite correctly - although a fellow Half-Elf, Gyrfalcon was much brawnier in the shoulders.

 

Bending to heal one of the poor little trampled squirrels, he realized they were magical constructs. He stood slowly with narrowed eyes gone a dark dark grey.

 

"I have been trampled by SUMMONED SQUIRRELS?" exasparation and something else welled within him "My birthday suit... Cheyenne's party... I ... she..." the words trailed off into what sounded like a growl as he released... intent? not a spell...more a whisper of power which flowed and echoed... a request?

 

As it washed out from him several things happened. The squirrels all disappeared with tiny pops. In his room, Guido quit dancing, threw his Walkman in the general direction of his bed and bolted for his door. Nuncio was already in the hallway, heading for the stairs.

Elladan, practicing his charcoal sketching, jerked and left a line which made the picture of Salinye marred beyond repair. Elrohir lifted his head, listened, and then settled back to read his book, assessing it as nothing more than annoyance.

 

Through-out the Pen, other Planeswalkers twitched as the wave wafted through.

 

Low in his room, brooding on Chaos, Death, and his next move with other peers and future subjects, the Dreamer lifted his head, and his eyes went a forest green. "Over a suit?!" A rare smile appeared on his scarred face, "huh" a cross between a laugh and sigh.

 

High in his Tower room, a Calvin Klein suit checked the season, weather, and occasion, and dissolving into a fine mist, rapidly wafted toward the door.

 

"Ayshela!" Came the happy cry from the door to the Cabaret. "You are so sweet to help out! How can I help you set up?"

 

Without looking up at the Polite Ancient of Too Much Activity, the Quill-Bearer said with a smile, "Banners? A cake?"

Posted (edited)

Celes noticed that one of the cakes had been missing walks around and heard the noise of the numerous squirrels surrounding a frozen talking cake. She looks at Wyvern and walks over him, thinking that he might probably be behind this whole mess.

 

- Hey there! I suppose that you can explain me what is going on here. Don't worry, none of your gold will turn into rust... yet.

 

The poor overgrown lizard gulps and tells Celes his little misadventure while Carbone was hissing at daring squirrel.

 

- Oh I see! Next time, Wyvern, instead of sneaking your way around and snatch one cake, you could had asked me like this: "Hey Celes, it's Cheyenne's birthday and I thought it would be nice to gave her a cake! Could you baked one for that occasion?". I would have probably answered with the following: "Of course and I wont charge you for it."

 

The almost dragon nods in embarassement while Carbone is now fighting with one squirrel.

 

- Now, let's clear up this mess before the hurt my cat.

 

Celes cast flight on her growling cat, freeing her from the squirrel hord, and the feline is now floating next to her mistress

 

(OOC: Happy Birthday Cheyenne and this year, its a journey into a new and promising decade.)

Edited by Lady Celes Crusader
Posted

Regel walks over to his friend Wyvern and passes a small shiny metallic object into his scaly paw.

"Keep this with you always. It will help you whenever you try and cast the blaze spell." says the ex-terrain mage. Wyvern's face brightens with wonder as he looks at the small gift. "What is it Regel? A talisman?" Wyvern asks.

 

Regel smile's and answers "No Wyvern. It's a Ronson."

 

"Happy Birthday Cheyenne."

Posted

The Giant Guinea Pig Bodyguards, Guido and Nuncio, burst in on the scene.

 

Grabbing Peredhil without hesitation, they seize him and, shielding his fashion disaster body from view behind their own bodies (stylishly turnout out in black wide-lapel tailored tuxedos with black-banded fedoras), the hustle him from the room. A trailing "happy birthdaaaay" is heard from the half-elf as his bodyguards "save" him.

 

On their way out, a mist whips itself into a frenzy around his body, and he's neatly clothes in suitable natty suit.

 

A small Breeze spell, high cold and arching with precision, carries Gyrfalcon's cloak in a parabola to land near the Elder. Blue Runes flash for a moment before fading away:

 

Thank you

  • 1 month later...
Posted

Thank you all so much! This is the first I have been able to see and view. I miss you all so much! As soon as I have a home again and a phone I will get internet restored.....I promise! you all are the best! and by the way the birthday was wonderful!

Posted

YAY!!! It's a Cheyenne!!!

 

*hugs*

 

good to see you again! i hope things work out for you smoothly and quickly.

 

*hugs*

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