Sweetcherrie Posted August 14, 2006 Report Posted August 14, 2006 A little girl with blond curls dancing around her head sped through the hallways. Sweet slid to a halt outside the Conservatory, and took a moment to regain her breath. Then she bounced into the room. Under her one arm she had a large pile of sticks and in her other hand she carried a bunch of feathers. She put the sticks and the feathers on the floor. “These,” she pointed at the sticks, “are horses, and these,” she turned to point at the feathers, “are for the Indians.” “Anybody up for a game of Cowboys and Indians?”
Wyvern Posted August 18, 2006 Report Posted August 18, 2006 Wyvern steps into the political correctness controversy Cowboys and Indians area of the Conservatory wearing a rough gray poncho, kitten skin boots, and a dead platypus "scarf" around his neck. The duel bandanas tied around the lizard's horns look ugly next to the classic "Uncle Sam" hat that leans on top of his head. The almost dragonic westerner barges past young Sweet, stomping over the sticks and snapping them as he assembles a rickety trade outpost table in the center of the room. He rubs his claws together and snickers, then hammers a dusty old sign next to the creaking wood of the outpost. --- El Wyverno invites you to... Tumbleweeds 'R' Us ~Grand opening~ ¡Today Only! Special Blow Out Sale !Today Only¡ Help us celebrate the grand opening of Tumbleweeds 'R' Us by purchasing the tumbleweeds before they blow out of this room! --- Wyvern reads over the sign for a moment, then nods and pulls out a little black book. The lizard tears a page from the book and tacks it to the bottom of the sign. --- Lord, please protect this stand from she who weilds a violent hand. She who spears one through the air in song and dance without a care. Crazed wild girl who attacks never cutting cowpokes slack. Lil' Morgy - KEEP OUT. - Wyvern's Little Black Book, Hipsssalm 1:23. --- Wyvern reads over the note with a smirk, then promptly moves behind his stand and slams an old gramaphone onto the crooked tabletop. The reptilian Elder tosses on a record labeled "Yankee Doodle Dandee (the Motherf@#kin REMIX)," and proceeds to yell over the distorted static of the recording. "Sssstep right up, get yer patented Tumbleweed products here while supplies last!" Wyvern holds up a large tangled tumbleweed, which gets caught on one of his horns. "Sleeping issues? Almost Dragonic Brand Tumbleweed Pillows (shampoo not included), 10 geld! Dressing concerns? Almost Dragonic Brand Aristocratic Tumbleweed Wigs, 8 geld! Intellectual? Almost Dragonic Brand Modern Art Tumbleweed Sculptures, 15 geld! Want drugs? Almost Dragonic Brand TumbleWEED (warning: do not use in bonfire), 13 geld!" "Look what you did to the horsies." Sweet pouts and rubs at her wet eyes, gathering the broken sticks in a pile. "Meanie!" Wyvern pauses for a moment as he notices Sweet tending to the pile, then lifts himself from his seat and approaches her. "Horsiesss, you say?" Wyvern glances at Sweet for a moment, then breaks out into an enormous sneer. He shoves her to the side and snatches as many of the broken sticks as he can before wandering back to his booth. "This just in, we also sell used horses!" Wyvern raises half of a feeble twig. "This one was only ridden once by a little old lady with a lasso." ;-p
Sweetcherrie Posted August 20, 2006 Author Report Posted August 20, 2006 With a giggle Stoomp was running through the corridors. He was swinging the Travel Log happily from side to side, and held it against the wall sometimes because it made such a nice scraping sound. He had heard something about cowboys and Indians, and he was definitely in the mood for some playing. He turned a corner, ran past the Cabaret Room, and forwards toward the Conservatory. He was almost there, and was just about to turn the corner when he bumped into Salinye. With a loud thud he send both of them flying, and Stoomp looked around dazedly. Then he saw the elven lady and his eyes turned bigger. “Pwetty.” He cooed softly, and picked himself up from the floor. He was just about to hug her when the stick in his hands started vibrating. It felt almost like an angry vibration, and Stoomp had suddenly trouble holding on to it. Having had this before, when he came to close to Woody, Stoomp held on with all his might. The dwarf climbed on top of the Travel Log, and with a soft ‘uhoh’ the stick took off with him. Stoomp was a little bit frightened, but all in all it was quite exhilarating to be riding the Travel Log, and as he was taken off into the Conservatory he screamed, “Yeeeehaaah!” He came flying into the Conservatory, and the Travel Log went straight for Wyvern. Sweet, standing next to the broken sticks, trying to think what to use as horses now, looked up and yelled happily. “Ooooh, you’ve got a good horsey! Can I play too?!” She ran after Stoomp, and the dwarf giggled happily as the Travel Log picked up speed. The stick was vibrating angrily now, and going faster and faster. They approached the almost dragon at great speed, but both Stoomp and Sweet only giggled, as it seemed they had found the perfect horsey.
The Big Pointy One Posted August 25, 2006 Report Posted August 25, 2006 Amidst the giggling and ballyhooing, there is the soft padding of leather followed by a light clinking of metal. Somewhere in the background a familiar old tune is playing. "...law! I am the law..." Eventually, the sound picks up, and all eyes dart towards the door. He has arrived, dressed the same as normal, except pinned to vist is a 7-pointed star that reads 'Sheriff'. On top of his head sits a grey 3/4 gallon hat. Resting on each of his hips, holsters holding revolvers; one emblazoned 'Law' and the other 'Order'. It is of course, none other than The Big Pointy One, BigPointyStick. As always at his side is the faithfull Mr.Bunny. Looking somehow grittier than normal, despite the tiny hat strapped to his head and the cute little deputy badge. Nodding, they take a few more steps into the room, squinting. "I reckon you're not planning on causing any trouble up in here Mr.Wyvern, right?" The half dragon looks over towards stick and grins. "But of coursssse Sheriff Sssstick. I wasss jussst ssselling little Sssweetie here sssome horsies." "Hey!" Piped up Sweetcherrie, "Those are *MY* horsies!" "Well, after I get my geld, anywayss..." Wyvern's eyes glittered when he mentioned the word 'geld'. "Now Mr.Wyvern, you wouldn't be trying to sell Sweet miss... Sweetcherrie her own horses, would you?" He accentuated his question by tapping on the revolver marked 'Law'. Mr.Bunny squinted more. (alright, jumping in. let me know if I took too much liberty yet.)
Wyvern Posted September 4, 2006 Report Posted September 4, 2006 "Oh, of course not Officer. I was simply trying to sell Sweet here one of the smaller horses... her parental guardians ain't nowhere to be seen." Wyvern glances in both directions with a shady grin, then reaches behind his "Uncle Sam" hat and pulls out a strong twig. The overgrown lizard looks up at the sky and slides the twig across the table towards Deputy Stick. "One of my finest, from my personal ssstash. Not just something I'd pull off a tree and give to any ol' sap, y'know? She's yours... if you can dismiss the legal horse buying age in this Conservatory for one day." BigPointyStick picks up the twig and raises a brow, examining it for a moment. His eyes turn towards his rugged boots as his sidekick hops forward. "..." "Why, Deputy O'Hare! I didn't see you there." Wyvern curses inwardly while maintaining his happy salesman demeanor. He reaches under his table and pulls out a small tumbleweed. "And what have we here? An Almost Dragonic Brand Tumbleweed Hay Snack, compliments of the house. Errr, well, sssalestand to be exact." "..." "Waddaya mean that doesn't cut it?" Wyvern tries to suppress the menacing hiss in his voice and smiles towards the bunny. "Well, I'm sure you'll find something pleasing in this stash. How about an Almost Dragonic Brand Tumbleweed Bunny Blanke-eeEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!" BigPointyStick and Deputy O'Hare jump back as what appears to be a midget on a large stick barges straight into Wyvern. The head of the stick nails Wyvern straight in the stomach, knocking the wind out of him and causing him to collapse to the ground. BigPointyStick reaches for his Order pistol as people begin running out to take a look at the lone horseman. The clock strikes high noon, and the Travel Log casts its shadow along the Conservatory floor. A cow wanders out and stands in the middle of street, blocking traffic. "Off-iccc-er," rasps Wyvern, clutching his stomach and pointing a claw in the air. "Arr-ess-st that *gasp* hor-se-man. *cough*" The almost dragon lets out a wimpy squeal as Stoomp's Travel Log seems to rear its tip upwards, preparing to strike...
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