The Almost Report Goes Butterfly Fishing

[Wyvern]

Darkness dissipates from the camera lenses in what looks like the silhouettes of a thousand tiny flapping wings. The cameras pan across a wide spacious room with large windows that let the sun flow in, getting a clear shot of the extra fluffy brown carpet design before stopping to focus on a large chair with a red and white figure strewn across it. Wyvern sniffles to himself and tips up the brim of his white hunting cap, only to twist his snout and pounce back onto his feet as he spots the news cameras moving in.

 

“Oh *aherm* err, was just takin a little, y’know, observation lesson. Welcome to the Almost Report!” Wyvern strikes the toothiest grin he can muster and stretches his arms out like an enthusiastic game show host in an attempt to save face, ruffling the already-wrinkled white fabrics of his suburban safari attire. He turns so that the cameras can get a clear view of the pole and net strung to his back, and he flaunts them like a third wing. “Sssince Tralla’s been prancing out and about at the Pen as of late, we figured we’d take this opportunity to invade her personal ssspace for our weekly Pen quarter exclusssive. Hope ya dig her beautiful view of the courtyard as much as I dug napping in her deluxe lounging chair.”

 

Wyvern winks to the cameras, then turns and wanders up to one of the large windows of the chamber in all its sunlit glory. He signals to a troglyodyte news set person, who proceeds to ring a chime that sends troglyodytes racing back and forth through Tralla’s quarters in preparation for something. Wyvern casually flicks the lock on Tralla’s window up with a twist of his claw, and faces the camera once the news crew commotion has settled.

 

“In current ssspecial Pen events, we have a birthday or two to belatedly celebra-”

 

Wyvern pulls Tralla’s window open a nudge, only to fall back as a swarm of beautiful rainbow butterflies soars in and clouds the entire room with its vast array of colors. The news cameras catch Wyvern frantically waving his net around before losing sight of the action in the swarm. They refocus several minutes later once the volume has died down a bit, passing by Wyvern’s broken butterfly net and watching the lizard as he races by with his claws in the air. Butterflies of all shapes and colors flutter through Tralla’s room in a more peaceful manner, pausing ever so often on her stacks of papers and unsorted photographs.

 

“A belated Happy Birthday to you, Annael!” Wyvern pants and gives up on trying to catch the butterflies, opting instead to toss a clawful of heart and star-shaped birthday confetti in the air. Several of the butterflies catch the confetti in their tiny legs and head towards the window, transporting it off to Annael’s treetop. “Hope ya had a great one and that yer doing well. Pennites in the mood for a bit of celebrating should also be sure to join the recent Cabaret drinking party in celebration of Alaeha’s birthday, and why not down a pitcher of booze for Aegon while yer at it? I'm sending a belated Happy Birthday to the two of ya!”

 

Wyvern grins to the cameras and licks his lips at the lingering scent of Cabaret rum, then wanders through a curtain of fluttering butterflies and makes his way over to a counter with sheets of scrap paper leftover from Tralla’s rough drafts. He swipes a mostly blank sheet from the bottom of the scraps, then pulls a bleached ostrich quill from his white safari outfit and begins testing its ink on the page.

 

“In Pen activity newsss, fine ssscribblers of prose and poetry as well as anyone who needs to rant should be sure to check out Mynx’s new Open Letters table in the Cabaret. And yesss, your letters may include odes to all types of Almost Dragonic Brand products… why, you can even sign and deliver’em to specific sssponsors!” Wyvern rubs his claws together at the thought of the potential free sponsorship campaign, then clears his throat and starts scribbling on his scrap paper. “Those who’d like to write an open letter of appreciation to a pennite can alssso continue to do so at the Love Letters table of the Cabaret, though pen people are more capable of responding.”

 

Wyvern pauses for a moment to scribble one more thing and sign his sheet, not noticing the bright array of butterflies that have begun landing on the rim of his hat like falling flower petals.

 

“And to wrap up thisss week’s news, Werewolf XXXIX: a Game of Wolves is now available for character sign up in the Conservatory.” Wyvern lifts his sheet of scrap paper, which contains a doodle of a wolf dressed in excessive bandit gear. “Sssign up should be open till’ around the 9th of this month, so get yer Almost Dragonic endorsed character in before that date if ya wanna join in.”

 

Wyvern grins towards the cameras and lifts a claw to his hat so he can take it off for a finishing bow, only to find that his head is now bare. The overgrown lizard darts his eyes around Tralla’s colorful quarters until he spots a group of butterflies who are collectively carrying his hat towards the open window. The reptilian reporter raises a claw.

 

“Hey!” Wyvern races through Tralla’s room after the butterfly thieves, tottering and losing his balance as his toes sink into the super fluffy rug. “Giveitback!”

[CheerMynx]

Wyvern was still trying to regain his balance on the rug when a high pitched, and very familiar voice rang throughout the room.

"Wyvie?" CheerMynx called out, her voice causing a flutter in the Almost Dragon's heart.

"Ch-CheerMynx?" he called back, struggling harder to escape the confusing depths of the rug as the cheerline entered the room. Wyvern glanced up to smile at her, only to let out a stunned squeak as he saw her attire.

CheerMynx was wearing the remains of an expensive, low cut, silver ballgown. It was so torn and damaged that it covered even less than one of CheerMynx's uniforms, the resulting eyefull destroying Wyvern's thought processes long enough for him to lose his battle for balance and land heavily on his snout.

"Ohmygawd Wyvern you like, will NOT believe the time I've had!" CheerMynx let out a breathy sigh and collapsed dramatically into one of the armchairs.

"So, like, there I am at my press conference and this guy shows up and says he can get me into the Oscars ceremony which is like so totally awesome so I get all dressed up and ready to go," the cheerline gestured at her gown, "and I'm like waiting outside for this guy to pick me up and he totally doesn't show and then like all my fans show up and they all want an autograph or something and they tore my dress and it took me forever to even FIND you and like my fur's ruined and my nails are broken and...and...and..." sniffing loudly, CheerMynx suddenly blinked and forgot about her tirade as she noticed Wyvern hadn't moved from his position on the floor.

The Almost Dragon lay with his eyes locked on the cheerline's legs, silently praying she'd uncross them until his attention was distracted by CheerMynx's claws snapping in front of his eyes.

"Like, hello? Are you even LISTENING?"

[Wyvern]

Wyvern glances up at the snap of CheerMynx's claws only to gape straight into her ample breasts, which hang in front of his snout as she bends down to see if he's paying attention. The overgrown lizard chokes as he gets a taste of what being part of the Oscar paparrazi must feel like, his brain desperately trying to register her sentence by overriding the image of her cleavage as it tests the limits of her torn gown. He finally gets a grip when her tail accidentally swats against his snout, and scrambles to his feet as CheerMynx straightens herself with a huff and a frown.

 

"Ch-ch-cheerMynx! Of courssse I'm listening, WELCOME BACK! Here, jussst sit back down a moment, we'll fix this right up." Wyvern lets out a squeal of glee as he watches CheerMynx seat herself again, overwhelmed by the very sight of her. He stamps his foot down and claps his claws twice. "Spinky! Puffdrag! Get over here and give our favorite cheerline the pampering she dessserves. Errr, jussst 'ixnay on the essdray' for now, OK?"

 

Wyvern taps his foot as he waits for the troglyodyte make-up artists to arrive, gulping as he watches CheerMynx cross her legs and lean back in the reclining chair again. The overgrown lizard clears his throat loudly and tears his eyes away from the attractive sight for a moment to gather his thoughts in his excited state, ignoring the news crew as they arrive and begin straightening CheerMynx's fur and doing her nails.

 

"CheerMynxie, really, I misssed you soooooooo much!" Wyvern pauses and coughs as he notices that the cheerline is casually rocking her right leg back and forth in front of her while Spinky and Puffdrag work their make-up magic. He shakes his head in the hopes of keeping himself focussed. "S-s-seriously, it hasn't been the sssame without you... I was about to resort to giving a troglyodyte a pair o' mop heads jussst to add a lil' cheer to the Report again."

 

Wyvern pauses and fidgets with his claws as he watches CheerMynx move her right leg up and down to rub at an itch on her other leg. He clears his throat and opens his mouth to say something, only to lose his voice as CheerMynx slowly slides her right leg up from its position and tilts it to the side. Wyvern goes bug-eyed as the cheerline spreads her legs wide apart, revealing... Snuffles, who rests peacefully in front of CheerMynx's torn silver dress. The kitten minion stretches a bit and hops onto the arm of the reclining chair just as CheerMynx crosses her left leg over her right, much to the jittering Wyvern's disappointment.

 

"*Ahehe-hem* A-a-anyway, I'm sssorry f-for th'm-mishaps, w-we'll be sure to g-give you a fan ward next time ya h-head out to an Oscar event." Wyvern digs his tail stinger into Tralla's rug nervously. "I uhh, heard a r-rumor you got sssome offers from some other s-sponsors n'stuff. I just wanna say th-that before you accept anything that would pull you away from the Report, I'd be happy to-"

 

"Uhhm, Wyv?" CheerMynx tilts her head up as the make-up crew dries her hair and puts some finishing touches on her nails. Snuffles squints from his armrest with a glum twitch of his whiskers. "Like, your fly."

 

"Who? Him?" Wyvern points to a butterfly resting on his shoulder and promptly brushes it off, waving at it to go away. "Don't worry, we're not acquainted."

 

"No, Wyvie." CheerMynx lets out a little sigh and motions downward with her paw, turning her eyes towards the ceiling for a moment despite it making no difference given Snuffles' stare. "Like, your other fly."

 

"Oh... OH!" Wyvern bites his lip and goes a deeper shade of red, reaching down and fumbling with his safari pants until the zipper is back in its proper position. "Ahaha! *AHEM* Hah. L-l-l-lisssten CheerMynx, j-just to show you how much we appreciate you on the Report, I'd be willing to-"

 

Wyvern is interrupted as the troglyodyte make-up crew help CheerMynx to her feet, escorting her to a portable dressing curtain that has been pulled out with a white bath robe type thing hanging from it. Wyvern curses quietly to himself, then raises a claw to his snout to call after her.

 

"I'm gonna raise your Almost Intern Fashion Fund to 10% of earnings!" Wyvern cringes at the thought of the financial impact for a moment, then raises a claw to his snout again. "I mean, at least for a limited time only or something."

 

;-)