Researcher Posted October 30, 2007 Report Posted October 30, 2007 The Researcher finished the drink he had in his hands, still lost in thoughts about experiments and talking guinea pigs. He patted his pocket, and as fingers found no squirming lump he frowned and looked down at the pocket he had suffed Guinea Pig in. "Well, well, where has that fellow gone now? He seems to be a most resourceful guinea pig..." There was a hint of amusement in his eyes as he stood up and, nodding to the few people who noticed him, left the Cabaret Room. Used as he was to his lab and its small inhabitants, it didn't take long for him to find the small telltale pawprints. Following them with his eyes, he noticed where they went. "Applications?" He blinked, disregarded the Recruitment Office sign, and fingered his latest research proposal that was kept in an inner pocket. Grinning broadly, he opened the door and entered, almost stepping on Pig. His squeaking made him look sharply to the floor, where he saw his most precious Guinea Pig. "Aaaah, my precious! There you are... come here, not nice of you to have tried to find a new owner..." He picked Pig by the scruff of his neck, examining him closely. "Hmm... you didn't have all those scrawlings on your fur last time I saw you. I know you always liked to play near the fire... would it be that fire brought that out?" As Pig squirmed, his ink-covered paws scratched Professor Hassium's nose. Blinking fast, The Researcher immediately picked a cotton swab and took a sample of the wetness on his nose, sealing it in a test tube. Then he did the same with the substance covering Pig's paws, also collecting it in another test tube. Carefully, he stickied a sign of Biological Hazard on both tubes and put them away on his lower right pocket. "Now now little fellow... let's take better care of you. Where have you been putting your paws in?" He dropped Pig on his right upper pocket, and from the left upper pocket he picked a tangerine slice, leaving it on Pig's eager paws. The Researcher examined the room, took notice of the several parchments that seemed to grow from every nook, and the huge pile of papers on Wyvern's desk. Nodding to himself, he took a piece of paper, examined it with a magnifying glass (that he took from his left lower pocket, then put back on his right upper pocket), tested it for radiation, then for contaminants, and finally satisfied he picked a pen from his right inner pocket and started writing. Dear Mr. Wyvern, My name is Professor Hassium, and I'm The Researcher in charge of a brand-new laboratory fully equipped for in-depth work in the research of new, still unknown and undiscovered, radioactive materials. As you might be aware, the development of new technologies in this area is very important, allowing us to have deeper insights in how the world and the universe correlate, and how the decay of several materials can influence from the smallest butterfly to the biggest of storms. The study of the decaying cloud of electrons into quantum energies might even explain some nebulous zones in planet, maybe even prove my personal assumption that nanoblackholes are responsible for mysterious disappearances of several kinds. There are several applications for these new technologies, all of them being under research at the moment. Some of them are so promising that their mere existence could bring a revolution in several planes, and the intrinsic value of the discoveries might bring richness unaccounted for. But, unfortunately, there is a limitation to the accomplishments we could certainly achieve, for all research needs a great amount of investments. The results will no doubt pay back all efforts, and maybe even more, if we could only find a willing sponsor. In this spirit, I present here my latest project, and apply for a grant from your Office. I am certain that your analysis will easily show how much both parts will gain with that small contribution from your part. Thanks in advance. Best regards, Professor Hassium, Hs. Rereading it, The Researcher nodded and attached it to the huge ream of papers that was his latest research project, and carefully put it at the center of Wyvern's desk. Then, looking around, he found a chair and sat down to wait for an answer, meanwhile pulling Guinea Pig out of his pocket and balancing him on his knee. "Well now, precious one... I am most certain that we have some things to talk about... the first one of them being, when exactly did you find out you could speak like humans?" OOC: I hope this is adequate as an Application... I am more a Role-Player than anything else right now, and don't feel I can write something adequate in either tale or poem form... at least for now. Though I can try if necessary!
Wyvern Posted November 2, 2007 Report Posted November 2, 2007 A stack of discarded doodles near the Office filing cabinets stirs as the tip of a tail stinger emerges from its depths. This is followed by two crimson wing tips and two horns, along with the groggy-looking scaly head attached to them. Wyvern stretches and yawns as he lifts himself from his napping spot, grabbing a half a bottle of Bruteweiser from the floor and guzzling its remains as a substitute for coffee. The overgrown lizard rips at the papers clinging to his scales and trudges over to his desk, tossing the empty booze bottle to the side as he notices The Researcher's letter resting on top of his morning smut mag. Wyvern takes a seat and lifts the note to his snout, reading it over and reaching for a dirty quill. Were the Recruiter's Office home to the National Half-Orc Olympics, the overgrown lizard would have received two halfling bones down for literacy. Wyvern scratches his chin and sets the letter down once he's finished, then grabs a piece of doodle paper still clinging to his horns and begins jotting a letter response, orating it to himself as he writes. Dear Prof. Hassium Name's Wyvern, Pen Recruiter and resident schemer, blah blah blah. You know the dealy. As you might be aware, geld makes the world go 'round. For this reason, I can't give you any kind of grant until you pay the 750 geld due for your Guinea Pig's infringement of private property horns, or the 1300 geld due should you wish to move the private property towards yer lab for receiving said geld. Once said payment hasss been completed, I'd be willing to offer you a grant of 5 Almost Dragonic Brand Products of your choice to aid you in your radioactive ssstudies, under the condition that I receive 40% of your profitsss. These items could include: - Almost Dragonic Brand Zip Lock Safety Gloves (perfect for carrying lunch AND handling radioactive waste) - Almost Dragonic Brand Beer Keg Waste Bins (consumed on the spot for quality assurance) - Almost Dragonic Brand Multi-Purpose Pea Tree Dishes (with three different coatings of bark) - Almost Dragonic Brand Telepath-e-Scopes (perfect for spotting telepaths trying to interfere with nebulous zone frequencies) - Almost Dragonic Brand AoA Asylum Lab Coats (comes in three sizes: medium straightjacket, large straightjacket, or XXXXL straightjacket) - etc. Should you accept this offer, Almost Dragonic Inc. may also wish to apply for a grant of some geld from your laboratory. Y'know, once it's in full swing and stuff. Of course, this grant would come after the 750 geld debt is paid off and would be more of a "friendly loan" than anything else. Almost Dragonic Inc. is on the verge of developing exciting new gimmicky products for the masses, and I think that we have similar mindsets when it comes to "richness unaccounted for." I look forward to doing business with you and all that. Yers, Wyvern Q. AlmostDragon, Hisssssss. "Hrmmm." Wyvern licks a claw as he skims over his writing, swaying his tail back and forth and thinking out loud. "I wonder if that hiss at the end is too informal for this sorta thing? Ah well, I've never been one for etiquette. Hmmm, but would the additional grant be too mu-" "Uhhh, Wyvern?" The Researcher clears his throat and shifts in his seat, staring at the Elder of Initiates as if the lizard were a madman. "I'm here, just so you know." Wyvern jerks his head up and bites his lip as he notices The Researcher sitting in the back of the Office, his eyes shrinking at the thought of him eavesdropping on the entire letter writing process. The overgrown lizard clears his throat loudly, scoots out of his chair, and forces an awkward laugh. "AH. Ahaha. Professor Hasssssssssium, I didn't sssee you there!" Wyvern hides his would-be response letter, then stamps a blank sheet of paper ACCEPTED and hands it to The Researcher. "As for your uhhh, grant... why don't we start with a Pen membership pass, and then we can discuss other business-related matters later?" ;-) OOC: An ACCEPTED application, Researcher. Welcome to the Mighty Pen! :-) I hope you find us a friendly and welcoming community to write with, and am looking forward to roleplaying with you more and to reading anything else you choose to share with us here. Once again, welcome!
Researcher Posted November 4, 2007 Author Report Posted November 4, 2007 Professor Hassium blinked, and looked at the "ACCEPTED" paper on his hand. "Hmm... sure, Mr. Wyvern. I'm looking forward to having a chance to discuss my grant application with you, I'm quite confident that we'll have great results once you can back us with your resources..." He frowned, trying to locate in his memory files where he had seen that specific talking lizard before. "Oh...!" Wyvern looked at Hassium, whose eyes were very bright. For those who knew the researcher, that had only one meaning: his mind was already pursuing some line of investigation, usually centered in whatever had come to his mind in a given second. In this case, the Professor's mind was full of hypothesis to be tested on giant talking winged almost-dragons... But the small squeak of a Guinea Pig snapped him out of his reverie, and he sighed. I need that grant, though. Maybe there is some way to convince him to be a willing test subject? I might have to write another project down to submit to him! Professor Hassium nodded to Wyvern, thanking him again, and looked around searching for the guinea pig he had been tracking. Had he escaped again?
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