The One-Time-Only Pen Gazette

[Sweetcherrie]

The phone wouldn’t stop ringing, all sorts of people had already called with news stories, and Sweetcherrie had almost started wishing she’d never promised her friend to do this.

 

With a sigh she hung up the phone again, some weird guy that apparently was called Spud had spoken about a mass murder. She had hardly understood the whole story, but would ask one of her friends to go over and have a look at it, and maybe even check out the scene.

 

She started up her computer and typed out a message:

 

Dear friends,

 

The time has come to have our first meeting. The Gazette will consist of different stories put together by some of the best (cough) writers I could find, but we will need more than this.

 

What is missing are the background stories; What happened to Bob Armadillo? Did Spud survive the fridge? And did detective Beaver manage to close away that criminal for good?

 

These and more questions will have to be answered by in depth investigation, and it is for this I need your help.

 

I will be awaiting your arrival in the Conservatory.

 

Love Sweetcherrie.

 

After sending the message, she arranged the chairs around the table, and while waiting for her friends to arrive she started thinking of what assignments all needed to be done.

 

OOC:

 

People that signed up for the second phase are:

 

Patham – pictures, write and interviews

Appy – interviewer, (columnist)

Venefyxatu – horoscope lady

Tannuchan – agony column

Katzaniel – cameraperson

Mynx – any way possible (time permitting)

 

And the original startup thread is here

[Tanuchan]

Celina "Abby" Korran arrives in the office with a sigh. Throwing her hat on the chair at the corner, she gives a cursory glance at the letters someone stacked neatly on her desk.

 

"Do they never get tired of getting the same trouble over and over? Dear Abby, my husband's having an affair. Dear Abby, I think my son is gay. Dear Abby, I think my mom suspects I'm gay. Dear Abby, my boyfriend doesn't understand me. Dear Abby, dear Abby, dear... " She mumbles, flipping the letters. "Ohhh... this one seems neat for a start..."

 

With a smile, she selects one letter and puts it on top of the others. Then, feeling more relaxed, she goes to the coffee table and waits for the others to arrive, looking forward for some chatting before the meeting.

Edited September 17, 2005 by Tanuchan

[Sweetcherrie]

Sweetcherrie looks up from her papers as Celina enters.

 

“Morning,” she says with a smile, “Found the letters that I put on your desk?”

 

Sweetcherrie was glad that she would have the possibility to work with her; ‘Dear Abby’ was famous for her sharp and well-aimed answers, and next to this she was simply an enjoyable person to work with. She pushes the platter with cookies and a butler-tray with coffee and tea towards Celina, and sits back.

 

“Had a good weekend?”

[Patrick]

Christopher walked in, the inevitable cigarette in his mouth.

 

"Hi, is this where I was supposed to come?" - he asked.

 

Sweetcherrie nodded, and Christopher settled in at an empty desk, next to that of Celina.

 

"Any chance to get some coffee here?" - he said, while taking a cigarette from its case and lighting it with the end of the other one, puffing the smoke towards Sweetcherrie.

Edited September 18, 2005 by Patrick Durham

[Katzaniel]

Lucy enters the room with her camera nearly glued to her face. In quick succession she has taken pictures of Sweetcherrie, Celina, Christopher, the coffee machine, the walls, the furniture, and even the floor, all the while muttering a soft-spoken monologue. At one point she raises her voice within hearing to say, "I thought I heard someone here ask for coffee, it's just over there...", muttering for a few moments, then saying, "....Oh, sorry, I'm Lucy..." and then plunging right back into too-quiet speech.

 

When she's finished cataloguing the room to her satifaction, Lucy brings the camera down from her eyes and looks around at everyone. Immediately her posture changes and she looks very timid, refusing to look anyone in the eye and retreating quickly to one corner of the room.

[Sweetcherrie]

Sweetcherrie had followed Lucy with her eyes as the camera kept flashing. She didn’t know this Lucy too well yet, but her friend recommended her to her, and she trusted the friend. When she’d sat down Sweetcherrie wondered if she should go over the topics that needed work, but since the others weren’t there yet, and she didn’t feel like repeating things she simply stayed silent.

 

Looking through her papers, she herself had to giggle; some of the assignments would be fun to do, and others simply a challenge. The people that had helped her with the topics had certainly done a good job. She looked at her watch; the others would be here soon, and decided to get another cup of coffee.

[Appy]

A small blond-headed girl peaked around the door, saw Sweetcherrie, and bounced in on her skippyball.

 

"Sweet! Sweet! Is this your paper-thingy? Only I thought I should help out, I even 'borrowed' my sisters notepad and a real pencil! See?"

 

Appy fluttered the two utensils in front of Sweetcherrie frantically, a hopeful look in her eyes..

[Sweetcherrie]

Upon seeing the enthusiasm on the face of the little…erm…no, erase that…innocent…no… hmm, just girl then, Sweetcherrie simply had to smile.

 

“Yes, and I’m glad that you’re part of our team.”

 

She pointed out the dish with cookies, and offered her a chair, but Appy looked at her and pointed at the skippyball.

 

“m fine thanks.”

 

Crumbs of cookie spread around the room, but Sweetcherrie only grinned at the girl, and poured out a cup of tea for her.

[Patrick]

Christopher took the coffee from where the woman had indicated it was, thanking her with a nod of his head, which she, still busy taking pictures, did not notice. He was just lighting his third cigarette since arriving, when Appy was running to remount her skippy-ball. As she ran past Christopher, she was enveloped in a cloud of smoke and started coughing. She looked back and scowled at Christopher who did not notice. He was busy drinking his coffee.

 

When he took the next puff on his cigarette Appy was already looking at Sweetcherrie again, and was caught from behind by the blown out cloud of smoke. She whirled around and frowned at Christopher while softly coughing in an attempt to try and get his attention.

 

He looked at her with an inquisitive glance.

 

"Yes?"

 

"Could you blow the smoke in a different direction?" - she asked, slightly annoyed.

 

"Sure." - he replied and walked over to the window, opened it and stayed there to smoke.

Edited September 20, 2005 by Patrick Durham

[Sweetcherrie]

With a glance at the clock, and a look around at the small group of people that had arrived already, Sweetcherrie decided that it would be a good idea to start handing out assignments.

 

She still hoped that the lady that was recommended to her for writing the horoscopes would show up, but couldn’t afford to wait for her.

 

“Christoper? Could you maybe join us?”

 

The alrounder flicked his cigarette out the window, and sat himself down.

 

“Right. Thank you for being here, I could never do this alone, and you’re help is very much appreciated.”

 

Appy was bouncing on her skippyball, and looked at her with a face that had ‘enthusiasm’ written all over, Lucy was staring at the ground, and Christoper was fiddling with his hands, probably missing the feel of a cigarette, but Celina smiled at her and nodded for her to continue.

 

“Ok, I’ve had various hints and tips from people for this edition of the Pen Gazette. I will go over the topics that will need to be covered, and then I’ll assign them to you. First, we need someone to go to federal prison to interview the guy that has been caught by inspector Beaver, I was thinking of giving this assignment to Christopher. Second,-“

 

But before she could continue Appy’s voice sounded loud and clear.

 

“Mee!”

 

“You?”

 

“Me. I wanna do that.”

 

“Aren’t you a bit small to do this?”

 

The last was said by Christopher who looked at the girl with sarcasm. He obviously didn’t think she would be a suitable choice, and even thought Sweetcherrie knew Appy, she too hesitated for a moment. Appy was looking from one to the other, and now looked at Sweetcherrie with her ‘begging’ stare.

 

“You know I can do it..”

 

Sweetcherrie sighed.

 

“Very well, Appy will do the interviews with inspector Beaver and that drugdealer, but make sure you get all the details.”

 

The girl nodded solemnly and started scribbling signs, unreadable to all but herself, in her notebook.

 

“Second, we need someone to interview a rising star…”

 

She looked at Christopher, and a big grin had appeared on his face.

 

“Sure, I’ll take her.”

 

“Right, try to find out the name of her new manager, and maybe try to figure out what the last scandal was all about, something with Wyvern….I think it might be interesting for our readers.”

 

Christopher nodded, and Sweetcherrie turned to Lucy.

 

“Lucy, I’ve had a tip about some weird cemetery, could you go there and take some nice ones?”

 

Lucy barely moved, but Sweetcherrie took her silence for a yes.

 

“Finally, Celina. I have read some letters, and there was one that said something about a guy innocently in prison, and that the love of his life landed him there. Might be interesting, maybe. Of course it’s up to you, you have more than enough experience to figure out which letters ”

 

Celina smiled, and nodded as well.

 

“Good. So this is what I would like to get started with. Anybody any questions?”

[Katzaniel]

"Mrmmrmle," said Lucy shyly in what everyone took be some sort of "no", for her next action was to make a run for the door without looking anyone in the eye. She quickly turned the handle and had made good her escape before any of the others had had a chance to reply to the question.

[Venefyxatu]

Just as the door closed behind Lucy it was thrown open again by a rather impressive person. Madame Artsuhtaraz had pressed her voluminous body in a gown of the deepest blue she could find, adorned with so much silver that the sheer weight could prevent a small plane from lifting off. Her hair was dishevelled from running and stood out in all directions around her head, giving her an appearance that would intimidate an angry gorilla, and her chest was heaving as the air fought to wheeze itself in and out of her lungs.

 

"The Madame is sorry that she is late, but she also knows that it could not have been prevented. As a compensation the Madame shall give out some free advice to those who are about to leave for their assignment."

 

"Appy, young lady, beware of the dark stranger in the rain. And you, Christopher ... the rain is not always a bad thing. As for you, Celina ... you know what the Madame is going to tell you."

 

After having spoken these words in her usual deep voice, Madame Artsuhtaraz planted herself in one of the chairs and looked expectantly at Sweetcherrie.

[Tanuchan]

Celina smiles at the Madame, then gets some cookies and juice and takes them to her, sitting at her side.

 

"So, Artsy, what have you predicted so far about our day?"

 

The Madame picks the cookies daintly, raising an eyebrow.

 

"Such way of calling me, Celina, is ruining our friendship."

 

"Aw, c'mon, Artsy... your arts are so fine and sharp, I'm just acknowledging them in you." Celina grins, making the Madame roll her eyes. "Now, come here... I wonder what's the prediction for next days for a guy... mmm... Taurus, ascendant in Virgo... gosh, I'm thankful sometimes they babble in their letters... "

 

Carefully, Celina puts aside the letter Sweetcherrie has called her attention to, decided to answer first some of the others as a warming up. Then, she reclines on her chair and looks at the Madame, a twinkling of mischief in her eyes.

Edited September 25, 2005 by Tanuchan

[Patrick]

Christopher went into his office to do a bit of research on the star he had to write about. Just as he was about to begin a wastebasket came up to him.

 

A few minutes later with rats taking pictures of Wyvern and Sweetcherrie down in the container Christopher laughed to himself. It seemed that he would have to interview the star first, since Wyvern seemed to be otherwise occupied.

 

He made a few notes of the questions he wanted to ask, all the while puffing on his cigarette in the privacy of his office and when he felt ready, left the building. He wanted to already have something done by the time Sweetcherrie got back, so as to show her that she had made a good choice in employing him.

Edited September 27, 2005 by Patrick Durham

[Tanuchan]

After reading some letters and making a few annotations on the margin of each one, Celina picked again the one that had called Sweetcherrie's attention, reading it more carefully this time.

 

Dear Abby

 

I'm in a terrible situation, and it's all a mistake.

 

You see, there is this girl - she is so sweet, so lovely, and so caring... I met her at the video rental one day, we talked a little bit about some movies, and I immediately was aware that she was the girl of my life. She was fun, and even pointed to me some very good movies. When she left, I took note of the plates of the car, and then spent some days trying to find out more about her.

 

See what fate is? Some days later, soon after reading Madame Artsuhtaraz's so true column - it did say I would meet my fate that day I'm a Virgo with ascendant in Leo - I met my girl again. She was in a department store, alone. She was choosing some underwear... isn't that cute? I followed her and kept smiling to myself. Then she saw me, but I think she didn't recognize me because she frowned and went quickly to another floor. This time she was checking on bedclothes. I could see she had a good taste.

 

To make this letter short, I followed her during all the time in the store. Just observing, because I wanted to know her before asking her in marriage. I know it seems hasty, but you see - it is my fate to marry her, Madame Artsuhtaraz said so!

 

Then, when we were leaving the store, that big bully comes to me and tells me I should stop annoying the young lady. It was a mistake, but before I could get rid of him she had disappeared again. Only this time I was ready, and darted to the address I had gotten from the video rental where we had met - it's good to know the right people. When my sweet flower arrived home, I was there at her door to greet her and help her carry her packages.

 

She was so surprised that she didn't have words. Half her bags fell on the street, and when I stooped to pick them, she ran into the house leaving everything else behind her. She locked the door - I know, she wanted to change and be beautiful for me. So I waited.

 

Now, three days later, I am here in jail. I don't know what happened. It's a terrible mistake. The police came and arrested me for harassment... but how can one harass their own fiancée? I tried and tried, but they don't listen. They tell me that my love has filled papers against me. They think I'm a maniac.

 

What can I do, dear Abby? We're fated to marry and be happy forever... but they don't let me out so I can marry her!

 

Waiting for some advice,

 

Yours, sincerely

Despairing Love

"Artsy, you should really help me out in this one... " Celina waved, a bit absently-minded, to her friend.

 

"The Madame always help, Celina dear." She grinned, waiting.

 

"What's the horoscope for tomorrow... Virgo with ascendant in Leo?" While waiting for an answer, Celina grabbed her pink felt-tipped pen and re-read the letter.

 

Dear Abby

 

I'm in a terrible situation, and it's all a mistake.

 

You see, there is this girl - she is so sweet, so lovely, and so caring... I met her at the video rental one day, we talked a little bit about some movies, and I immediately was aware that she was the girl of my life. She was fun, and even pointed to me some very good movies. When she left, I took note of the plates of the car, and then spent some days trying to find out more about her. plates... numbers... Madame

 

See what fate is? Some days later, soon after reading Madame Artsuhtaraz's so true column - it did say I would meet my fate that day I'm a Virgo with ascendant in Leo - I met my girl again. She was in a department store, alone. She was choosing some underwear... isn't that cute? I followed her and kept smiling to myself. Then she saw me, but I think she didn't recognize me because she frowned and went quickly to another floor. This time she was checking on bedclothes. I could see she had a good taste. taste? maybe find another reason

 

To make this letter short, I followed her during all the time in the store. Just observing, because I wanted to know her before asking her in marriage. I know it seems hasty, but you see - it is my fate to marry her, Madame Artsuhtaraz said so! engagement rings - necessity.

 

Then, when we were leaving the store, that big bully comes to me and tells me I should stop annoying the young lady. It was a mistake, but before I could get rid of him she had disappeared again. Only this time I was ready, and darted to the address I had gotten from the video rental where we had met - it's good to know the right people. When my sweet flower arrived home, I was there at her door to greet her and help her carry her packages. too gentlemanish - women hate surprises

 

She was so surprised that she didn't have words. Half her bags fell on the street, and when I stooped to pick them, she ran into the house leaving everything else behind her. She locked the door - I know, she wanted to change and be beautiful for me. So I waited. wait=mistake - break and enter=reason for jail - leave=mistake - puppy dog & doghouse!

 

Now, three days later, I am here in jail. I don't know what happened. It's a terrible mistake. The police came and arrested me for harassment... but how can one harass their own fiancée? I tried and tried, but they don't listen. They tell me that my love has filled papers against me. They think I'm a maniac. they're right - engagement ring again - money - work - shovel some sense

 

What can I do, dear Abby? We're fated to marry and be happy forever... but they don't let me out so I can marry her!job - work - goal - horoscope

 

Waiting for some advice,

 

Yours, sincerely

Despairing Love MEH! Need more creative ones...

After scribbling a few more notes, Celina looked at the Madame and the Madame looked back at her.

 

"The young lady obviously doesn't know her fate." She stood, and dramatically proclaimed,

 

"The vowels of the plate are also the vowels of the name, but the Madame sees that if the consonant is wrong, then the lover shall remain ringless."

 

With those words and a serious nod, the Madame sat down again. Celina frowned in confusion for a moment but, used to her friend's strange way of speaking, nodded soon after and started scribbling with another colored pen.

 

"And, of course, the Madame knows that, if they are truly meant for each other, then no bars shall separate them forever."

 

 

Dear Abby

 

I'm in a terrible situation, and it's all a mistake.

 

You see, there is this girl - she is so sweet, so lovely, and so caring... I met her at the video rental one day, we talked a little bit about some movies, and I immediately was aware that she was the girl of my life. She was fun, and even pointed to me some very good movies. When she left, I took note of the plates of the car, and then spent some days trying to find out more about her. plates... numbers... Madame -> quote her

 

See what fate is? Some days later, soon after reading Madame Artsuhtaraz's so true column - it did say I would meet my fate that day, as I'm a Virgo with ascendant in Leo - I met my girl again. She was in a department store, alone. She was choosing some underwear... isn't that cute? I followed her and kept smiling to myself. Then she saw me, but I think she didn't recognize me because she frowned and went quickly to another floor. This time she was checking on bedclothes. I could see she had a good taste. taste? maybe find another reason consonants - ndrwrbdclths & ... dsprnglv ... PV... point of view!

 

To make this letter short, I followed her during all the time in the store. Just observing, because I wanted to know her before asking her in marriage. I know it seems hasty, but you see - it is my fate to marry her, Madame Artsuhtaraz said so! engagement rings - necessity - wrong consonant?

 

Then, when we were leaving the store, that big bully comes to me and tells me I should stop annoying the young lady. It was a mistake, but before I could get rid of him she had disappeared again. Only this time I was ready, and darted to the address I had gotten from the video rental where we had met - it's good to know the right people. When my sweet flower arrived home, I was there at her door to greet her and help her carry her packages. too gentlemanish - women hate surprises names, vowels - knowing each other

 

She was so surprised that she didn't have words. Half her bags fell on the street, and when I stooped to pick them, she ran into the house leaving everything else behind her. She locked the door - I know, she wanted to change and be beautiful for me. So I waited. wait=mistake - break and enter=reason for jail - leave=mistake - puppy dog & doghouse!

 

Now, three days later, I am here in jail. I don't know what happened. It's a terrible mistake. The police came and arrested me for harassment... but how can one harass their own fiancée? I tried and tried, but they don't listen. They tell me that my love has filled papers against me. They think I'm a maniac. they're right - engagement ring again - money - work - shovel some sense

 

What can I do, dear Abby? We're fated to marry and be happy forever... but they don't let me out so I can marry her!job - work - goal - horoscope - no bars separating etc

 

Waiting for some advice,

 

Yours, sincerely

Despairing Love MEH! Need more creative ones... Madame is a good one!

With a smile and a nod, Celina put the letter away and reached out for another, random one. With a bit of luck, the next would be one of the so-common outrageous ones and it would put her in the exact mood to write the answers needed.

Edited October 8, 2005 by Tanuchan

[Patrick]

The meeting had been arranged between Christopher and Marissa in a small cafeteria downtown. When he got there Marissa was already sitting there. Introducing himself, he sat opposite here. After a few casual sentences Christopher took his notepad from his pocket, switched on the tape recorder slightly protruding from his other pocket and nodded at Marissa signalling that he was ready.

 

Twiddling nervously with a lock of her hair, Marissa looked with big eyes at the tape recorder. After all it hadn't been that long, that she had still been singing in shady nightclubs, and she still couldn’t believe how fast it had gone. She suppressed a nervous giggle, and nodded that she was ready whenever the journalist would be.

 

Christopher stubbed out his cigarette, and then offered one to Marissa with one hand, while with the other he lit his next one.

 

"No, no, I shouldn't really, my manager says it could damage my voice." - she said.

 

"Oh, ok." - he said putting the pack away. "You don't mind if I smoke?" - he asked.

 

Marissa looked at the cigarette, she did mind, but it would have been impolite to say so, and after all her mother had always raised her to be polite. "No, go ahead."

 

With the cigarette hanging from the corner of his mouth, Christopher glanced at his notepad, which had the list of questions. As he started speaking the cigarette bobbed up and down. "All right then. First question. What made you want to try a singing career?"

 

For a moment she had trouble focusing on the words, and all she saw was that cigarette. Would he even realize how stupid it looked? Then the words formed a sentence in her head, and she concentrated on finding an answer. "I've always wanted to sing, when I was 4 years old I was already entering contests." As she says this Marissa smiles with the memory.

 

"What was your first contest like?" - asked the journalist.

 

Marissa giggled, "A disaster, my mom had made a hula skirt for me, and halfway through the dancing that went with the song, the skirt dropped at my ankles. All the other 4 year olds thought it was hilarious of course, but I was devastated. Thought I'd never sing again."

 

"I heard that you also had some problems at a show last month. Would you mind giving your own version of the events? Something about a rogue microphone?" - he asked, his face betraying no emotions at all.

 

Marissa gave him a blank stare; she'd sang in so many clubs, and she'd encountered more problems than other people would have in a life time. "Err...which club would that have been?"

 

"The one where you got offered the contract for being an Almost Dragonic Nightingale." - Christopher said.

 

He showed her a crumpled piece of paper. "I managed to get this at the rubbish heap outside that club." The paper was her contract offer from Wyvern.

 

"Ah.." She wondered how on earth he had gotten his hands on the paper, but thought back to that evening to find a reply to his question. "That evening was....not so nice."

 

"Could you possibly elaborate?"

 

"I was nervous, I always am. But, it went pretty ok, that is until the equipment started to lead its own life. People walked out, and I tried to reassure them to come back in, but it was no use....and then that weirdo offering me a contract like that....well, he just didn't seem like anybody that I would want to work with even if the contract had been decent. It's all in the past now though..."

 

"You have a manager nowadays, I have heard. Is that right?" - he asked while stubbing out his cigarette. He reached for the pack, but seeing a fleeting expression on Marissa's face he did not complete the movement.

 

"Yeah, I do. He's taking care of business, and is good at it as well. I never have to worry about a thing, I simply get up there, and do my thing."

 

"When is there a chance for you to have an album out?" - he asked, not pressing the issue of who her manager was. All in due time he thought.

 

"We're working hard on the recordings, and well, we hope to finish it within the next couple of months."

 

 

"There have been rumors of a new single coming out soon. Do you have any additional information to offer on that?"

 

"I'm sorry, but I'm affraid that I can't say you anything about that...but-" She seems to think here, and then grins, "But I can say that it will be good." Marissa gives him a wink confiding this information to him feels right, plus that he is handsome enough, if only....but no, she couldn't afford to do that.

 

"Any timeline on when the single shall be available?" - he asked noticing the wink, and storing away the information for later.

 

"You'd have to ask Mi," barely noticeable she quickly changes her words, "My manager."

 

"Who is this Mi...?" - Christopher asked, flashing her a smile.

 

She felt her face flush red, he had noticed. Suddenly Marissa found herself looking at her shoes, as if she would find a plausible answer to his questions there. She decided to go with the half-truth, "Mike is my manager, we work so closely together that we've become friends."

 

This was already good gossip material, but Christopher was nearly sure that he could get some more. He decided to go the friendly way, since it seemed to be working. "Now, now. You don't need to see this as you slipping up and letting information slip. If you ask me to not write about something, then I shall not write about it." - he smiled. "Now, is there more than friendship between you and your manager?"

 

Marissa was just about to take a sip from her glass of water, and almost sprayed it over the reporter. How on earth did he know? But he couldn't know, could he? Her mind raced to find an evasive answer, and she decided that offering him a drink might be a good distraction, after that she might be able to change the subject. She quickly finished her glass, and got up to refill it. "Would you like something as well?"

 

Christopher nodded and asked for a coffee. Once the waiter took the order he turned back to Marissa. "You were saying?"

 

Like a bulldog thought Marissa, and suddenly she didn't like the reporter too much anymore; cute as he may be, he was getting too close now. She was no good at lying but knew she had too, if it would come out that she and Mike were together they'd never have a moment of rest ever again. "Strictly business. Besides, we were here to talk about my career, not my private life."

 

"That's ok. As I said, if you feel I'm going too far just stop me." He took his camera out from his bag. "I feel you are getting tired of my questions so, in order to take a pause do you mind if I take a few pictures?"

 

"Pictures?" This was the part she absolutely hated about being a rising star, everybody wanted to have your picture. Marissa sighed, "Sure."

 

Christopher clicked with his digital camera only twice, then nodded mumbling that it shall do. "I only have a few more questions left now. What do you expect the future of your career to be?"

 

"I'm hoping that my fans will allow me to keep at it. The fans are all you know, without their support I'd be nowhere." Christopher nodded absentmindedly, he was already thinking about how he would write about the gossip material in his article.

 

"Of course." - he said. "Last thing. Is there anything else you would wish to add, or a message you want to send someone through our newspaper?"

 

Marissa thought about this question for a moment, people read nowadays what she said, and even put weight to her words, so it was important that whatever she said, it would have to be something good. "Follow your dreams, take your responsibilities, but never...never give up on your dreams."

 

"Thank you." Christopher said and paid her bill along with his. "I wish you a succesfull career!"

 

"Thank you, and maybe we'll meet again."

Edited October 9, 2005 by Patrick Durham

[Patrick]

As Christopher walked away from the cafeteria he dialled Sweetcherrie's number on his phone, and with his other hand he switched the taperecorder off. The next cigarette he lit as the phone was ringing.

 

"I've just interviewed Marissa and I've found out a few interesting things, but I don't want to steal your time, I was just wondering whether you could help me with something..." - he said in reply to Sweetcherrie's "hello".

 

He was walking back towards the newspaper's building, eager to get started on this story.

 

"Since I need an interview from Wyvern and I've only been able to reach some gnomish assistants on his phone I was wondering, seeing that you ran off with him, whether you could ask him whether he would be available for an interview."

 

He listened to the reply.

 

"Thanks, I guess I'll see you later then." - he started pulling the phone away from his ear, then remembered to add: "Oh, and I hope that you have fun."

 

As he put down his phone he thought he heard Sweetcherrie saying something more, but dismissed it as being a goodbye.

 

OOC: Sweetcherrie's answers can be found: here

Edited October 9, 2005 by Patrick Durham

[Appy]

As everyone was starting to get busy, Appy was still in the exact same place, pen in mouth, looking at her notebook with a deep frown on her face.

As if she only just realised that Sweetcherrie had asked: “Anybody any questions?” the girl looked up, only to find that Sweetcherrie had dissapeared!

 

“Oh no… Now who will tell me where to find this Beaver guy? I have some questions for him before going to this Manfold Prison for the other guy…”

 

Frowning still she bounced out on the street, stopped on the pavement and looked around. There was a small police station nearby. Appy shrugged and bounced up the steps, only to be flung down them again as the door opened in her face and a whole troop of officers ran out, shouting at each other. The last of the group halted briefly to help her up, said something about making sure that she got away from here, and ran after the others.

Appy’s eyes started to twinkle as she ran the shouting of the men past her mind again. There had been mention of an escape. And of dangerous criminals. AND that they had been in the prison where her ‘Interviewee’ was kept.

Grinning, the little girl grabbed her skippyball and bounced off in the direction that the policemen had taken…

[Katzaniel]

Lucy knew where to find the cemetary that she was supposed to photograph, for she had talked to her friend beforehand, and he had told her about the stories that would appearing in the paper. Why he had recommended her for this, she wasn't sure, but apparently this Sweetcherrie really needed a cameraperson, so Lucy couldn't refuse. Thank God that her first assignment didn't involve speaking to anyone. Lucy didn't much like having to talk to people.

 

When she arrived at the cemetary, the guard needed to see her media pass before letting her in. Lucy nearly had a heart attack at having to dig through her pockets while he eyed her carefully. Even though the shaggy-brown-haired man, a little older than herself, did not look upset or dangerous, she wanted nothing more than to get through those gates and away from him. Finally he finished inspecting the pass, dutifully comparing her to her photograph, and let her in.

 

Lucy was careful not to step on any of the graves, though she looked at the ground through her camera most of the time. Snap-snap-snap went the shutter as she moved around the perimeter, getting shots of freshly dug graves, piles of dirt, new and aged tombstones, and the gravel path. And of course she was keeping up her usual running commentary, now that she was in camera mode again. "I love these new digital cameras, and virtually never having to worry about space," Lucy was saying to herself idly as she began to circle inward.

 

The young woman was by the statue, shooting from various angles and muttering about how birds should be more careful about their messes, when she heard the voice. She whirled around, looking through the lens, and saw no one. What was interesting, though, was the way the light played on those two graves over there... Lucy began to make her way over, snapping shots of the hazy purple and blue shapes as she did.

[Sweetcherrie]

In the meantime....

[Sweetcherrie]

After her escape from the zoo....

 

She slipped into her office after having gone past her room to get some clean clothes on. Sweetcherrie sat down for a moment, and reorganized her thoughts. She looked at the clock and saw that it would be about time to round everybody up.

 

The answering machine was full with messages and lost calls, but she decided to ignore them for the moment, and reached out for the phone to start calling everybody on their cell phones to call a meeting for that afternoon.

 

She would have to apologize for having been absent for so long, and felt rather guilty about the fact that she hadn’t been there to do some more work herself. When she had reached everybody but Appy, and had fixed a meeting in two hours, she sat down, and started going through the faxes and messages that had come in while she had been out of office.

 

With her laptop on and the messages next to it, she started writing on some articles and stories herself, in hopes that it would be good enough.

[Katzaniel]

Spaceholder!

 

Post in which Lucy tries and fails to take a picture of the ghosts, realizes they're ghosts when they don't show up, etc. Probably ends with her screaming and running from the yard, or some such...

 

This will not be editted in until December, probably. Sorry, all.

[Sweetcherrie]

Her hands and even her shoulders were hurting when she finally finished the last story. She leant back and noticed the time. It was time for the meeting!

 

Sweetcherrie stepped up and her sudden movement caused the messages to flutter down to the floor. She gave a little cry of despair. It was times like this that she absolutely hated Mister Murphy. After picking up the papers she dumped them in the bin and decided to try and invite them personally.

 

With some protest her laptop shut down, and with her stories under one arm and a cup of coffee in the other hand she walked out her office to see where everybody was.

 

Upon entering Lucy’s office she already saw that it was empty. A large envelope was lying on the desk with the words “for Sweetcherrie” written on them. The envelope felt heavy when Sweetcherrie picked it up, and upon opening she discovered some amazing pictures.

 

“Well whatever she’s doing now, she’s delivered some amazing work as normal.”

 

She stuck the photographs back into the envelope and continued on her way to the next person. She stepped into Christoper’s office and practically had to use a knife to cut herself a way through the smoke.

 

“My god Christopher, can you not not smoke for a bit?”

 

Sweetcherrie coughed, and her eyes watered as she tried to look at the reporter.

 

Christopher stood up from what he was typing at his computer screen, and opened a window.

 

"I know that I am hopelessly addicted to cigarettes. Believe me, I have tried to stop, but it didn't work. This is my one vice. A pity that it is a bad one." - he said with a sigh for once being nearly totally honest with himself.

 

After another cough, Sweetcherrie found herself barely able to speak, but managed to get her next sentence out.

 

“Anyways, I came here to tell you that we have a meeting in half an hour, I hope your articles are finished by then, because the presses are not waiting.”

 

"I'm nearly done" - Christopher replied motioning at his computer screen. Sweetcherrie only caught a glimpse of the article though, as the screen saver switched on just then.

 

“Right, I’ll see you in half an hour in the meeting room then.”

 

Sweetcherrie swooshed out of the room, and went to see if Celina was in. Upon arrival she discovered yet another empty office, but laughing was coming from behind the next door, and when she entered she found not only Celina, but also the Madame sitting around the desk.

 

“You two seem to have a good time.”

 

They turned around as she spoke.

 

“Yeah, I was just telling the Madame about one of the letters I received today, some of them simply are too funny.”

 

Sweetcherrie chuckled; she knew all to well what sort of things the letters ‘Abby’ received contained, and also knew that although sometimes they were pretty serious, others were plain ridiculous.

 

“Final meeting in half an hour, will you guys be ready before then?”

 

The ladies across the room nodded.

 

“Good, now I only have to figure out where Appy is. You don’t happen to know where she ran off to, do you?”

 

Silence followed, and Sweetcherrie shook her head.

 

“Thought so, no problem I’ll reach her some way. See you in half an hour.”

 

After this she walked to the meeting room and started preparing the agenda, and worked a bit on the layout. She already had in her mind what the order would be, and there were some professionals working for the Gazette that could probably do this a lot better, but she had nothing better to do anyways, and at least it kept her hands busy as she waited for the others to arrive.

[Patrick]

Once Sweetcherrie left, Christopher returned to the half-written article.

 

A Star Rises

 

By Christopher Malcolm

 

From virtually unknown to top 10 singer in less than two months? It isn’t only poossible, but it has happened to Marissa. Soon to put out a new single and working on a new album, the release dates for botyh of which have not been fixed yet, she has proudly demonstrated that it is possible, given a bit of luck to achieve stardom.

 

However she was not always lucky during her career. She started singing while still young, entering her first contest at the age of 4. Her first performance was what you could kill a disaster, with a wardrobe failure, and the shame of being laughed at by those of her age. Marissa continued singing despite this, although she had considered never singing again.

 

The breakthrough came for her, when finally she found a new manager. Michael Richards, or simply Mike, as she referred to him, is an experienced manager, who has previously worked with the well known artists: BackSeat Girls, Janson Jacket and Girlzone. The road of finding a new manager was not of the straightest.

 

Our paper has acquired a contract form, of one offer she had received from Wyvern, an excerpt of which follows:

 

When singer does not manage to attract at least 1.000.000.000.000 people in the audience, her or she will pay Singers & Wyvern three zillion geld, or in case singer does not have this she can pay by spending one night with Wyvern (the great, almighty, may he live forever, and get filthy rich).

 

Not surprisingly Marissa did not accept the contract. Her comments on that particular night were: “that weirdo…didn't seem like anybody that I would want to work with”.

 

Wyvern was unreachable for comment, but unverifiable sources reported that at the time of writing of this article he was pursuing an unidentified love interest.

 

 

 

Although during the interview Marissa declined commenting on her personal affairs, The One-Time-Only Pen Gazette has received unconfirmed information from an anonymous source that the relation between Marissa and her manager is not only business. Both sides declined to comment on this however.

 

We all hope that Marissa’s star shall continue to shine for quite some time to come, and wish her a successful career.

Finding out the manager's name hadn't been that hard. All it had taken was a couple of internet searches and a phone call placed to one of Christopher's contacts in the music industry.

 

Christopher looked at the nearly finished work, then went back and made a few changes, rearranging paragraph order, and adding a comment or two extra and correcting the typing mistakes he had made in the first paragraph and the transcription of the contract. He then changed the title and added formatting to the article. If only the pictures he had taken hadn't turned out that bad. On one of them Marissa had her eyes closed, and the other showed her mouth in a position, which would have made a porn actress proud.

 

Luckily he had found a picture of her on the internet, the picture taken from the promotional posters for her first single. It would do just fine for the article.

 

 

A Rising Star

By Christopher Malcolm

From virtually unknown to a top 10 singer in less than two months?

 

It isn’t only possible, but it has happened to Marissa. Soon to put out a new single and working on a new album, the release dates for both of which have not been fixed yet, she has proudly demonstrated that it is possible, given a bit of luck to achieve stardom.

 

However she was not always lucky during her career. She started singing while still young, entering her first contest at the age of 4. Her first performance was what you could kill a disaster, with a wardrobe failure, and the shame of being laughed at by those of her age. Marissa continued singing despite this, although she had considered never singing again.

 

The breakthrough came for her, when finally she found a new manager. Michael Richards, or simply Mike, as she referred to him, is an experienced manager, who has previously worked with the well known artists: BackSeat Girls, Janson Jacket and Girlzone.

 

Although during the interview Marissa declined commenting on her personal affairs, The One-Time-Only Pen Gazette has received unconfirmed information from an anonymous source that the relation between Marissa and her manager is not only business. Both sides declined to comment on this however.

 

The road of finding a new manager was not of the straightest.

 

Our paper has acquired a contract form, of one offer she had received from Wyvern, an excerpt of which follows:

 

"When singer does not manage to attract at least 1.000.000.000.000 people in the audience, he or she will pay Singers & Wyvern three zillion geld, or in case singer does not have this she can pay by spending one night with Wyvern."

 

Not surprisingly Marissa did not accept the contract. Her comments on that particular night were: “that weirdo…didn't seem like anybody that I would want to work with”.

 

Wyvern was unreachable for comment, but unverifiable sources reported that at the time of writing of this article he was pursuing an unidentified love interest.

 

 

Marissa’s first single, “The Day I Lost You” is still in the top 20 of several charts around the world, the highest position it has reached being number 3 on the independent “The Pen Listing”.

 

 

That looked better. Although he was sure he could still make a few modifications, he knew that it wasn’t worth the extra effort, and besides the meeting was close at hand.

 

He stubbed out his latest cigarette and clicked the print command, knowing that Sweetcherrie preferred to read in a printed form. Next to the article he joined the picture of Marissa he had found. Her blond hair was highlighted against a setting sun, in a picture, which must have taken at least fifteen tries to get right. He lit another cigarette, then remembering how the others did not like him smoking pushed it gently against the ashtray so that he could smoke it later, and then made his way to the meeting room, with the printed article, and for once without a cigarette hanging from his mouth.

 

Working alone was so much easier. No one complained about the smoke then…

Edited November 16, 2005 by Patrick Durham

[Sweetcherrie]

Looking on her watch Sweetcherrie sat down and nervously drummed with her fingers on the table. The lay-out looked good enough, and she was certain that the stories would be liked. For what seemed like the thousandth time she went through Lucy’s pictures, and nodded contently. They were simply amazing.

 

She tossed the order around and changed it back again. And then Christopher came in. On Sweetcherrie’s lips were lying the words, that he couldn’t smoke during the meeting when she noticed with surprise that he didn’t have a cigarette in his mouth, nor in his hands.

 

“Hey..nicely on time. The rest should be here any minute now. Help yourself to some coffee.”

 

With a gesture she pointed out the butler tray with tea, coffee and even a dish with biscuits, and then continued to drum her fingers on the table.