Uncertainty

[Ciri]

Ciri peered curiously into her crystalline sphere with its many facets, then glanced up at the recruitment door, then back at her crystal ball again, chewing her lower lip. I'm going to kill Finnius for tempting me, she said with a sigh, before shrugging and setting down her bulky black bag - which decided to promptly tip over. Books, notebooks, scraps of papers and several hundred quills of various colors spilled onto the ground, eliciting a small 'eek' from their guardian. Ciri immediately got down on her knees and reached for the fallen articles. The small scraps of folded papers she grabbed first, stuffing them into the bag, quickly followed by the notebooks and pens. Then, heart pounding, she picked up the books and set them neatly in a pile on the floor. Glancing around quickly to make sure no one was watching, she picked up the first one, running a hand down the spine of the book and checking the corners, fretting and cooing apologies, giving the book a little hug before placing it back into the bag and reaching for the next one.

 

Relieved no major harm had come to any of her darlings, she glanced around once more to make sure there were no scraps of paper lying around that could possibly be linked back to her. Finding none, she settled down near the bag and leaned against the wall, adjusting her large cloak - it had to be large, to match her - to cover her more completely before resting her head on the bag of books and taking a deep breath before expelling it as one of those melodramatic, 'Woe is me' sighs.

 

Oh, come ON. Stop doing that! Ciri closed her eyes, but the exasperated voice continued. Just write something and submit it already! It's not like anybody will kill you over it or anything.

 

Ciri opened her eyes and turned her head, looking at the figure who spoke. An overly plump, young hispanic woman, with square, wire-rim glasses, wearing a pair of comfortable trousers and a crisp white shirt under a large cloak, with curly (if you were being polite, otherwise, frizzy) hair reached down to her shoulders. The woman looked back at her crossly.

 

But...it's a writing forum! Ciri replied, knowing very well that she sounded like a whiny teenager. Of course they'll read it! Who knows HOW many people will read it? And what if they start...you know...SAYING stuff about it? Or worse - what if they DON'T? I mean, there could be like...people with actual writing skills reading my stuff. You know how I feel about that! She said, crossing her arms over her chest.

 

The other woman smacked her forehead. Get a grip! It's not like you're the Center of the Universe or anything. Seriously. I doubt anyone's going to be hanging onto your every word. A small, fuzzy, tentacled....something seemed to fall from the woman's ear. Ciri reached over quickly and tapped it with her crystal ball, causing it to disappear and a smaller, more detailed version of it to form inside the crystal.

 

Me either Ciri admitted, tracing a small 's', then a 'p' over the crystal ball's surface. It hummed for a moment, warming, then a slip of paper formed in Ciri's hands, which she stuck inside her bag before grinning. "But do I have to remind you of that time I WAS the center of the universe? It's not like I officially retired, either."

 

"You were replaced by pickles, for the love of Ink! If that isn't reason enough to retire, I don't know what is. By the way. One of these days, someone's going to catch us talking to yourself out loud. Remember, INSIDE voice. As in, we should stop vocalizing."

 

"Oh, right. Sor..." Oops. I mean, sorry, Rici

 

Yeah, yeah. Just remember that we're still alive up here, okay? Honestly, you should THINK before you decide to anthromorphosize aspects of your personality or think of your characters as actual people. Really now, that's just psychotic.

 

Ciri giggled, then stuck her tongue out at her reflection. Nah, s'all right. Everyone talks to themselves.

 

How many of them talk to themselves, gesturing emphatically while writing weird stories about talking to themselves which aren't really stories, more like just random dialogue?

 

Shut up, you're disturbing the whole fifth wall.

 

I'm you, and you're the one always claiming you're always right, so obviously I must be right when I say that you're disturbing the fifth wall because I'm you, so you are also right when saying I am. So there.

 

Gods above and below. My brain hurts. I'm not talking to you anymore.

 

Whatever. I'm going to go hang out with the characters from that intergalactic spy story you started. One of these days, you have to finish that one. And the one about the Palace of Dawn and Dusk. And the one about the Dr'Kemeh. And the one about the Wraves. And the one about the Singer of the Mists. And all those character backgrounds for those roleplay characters you keep saying you'll do. In fact, I'm just praying you'll finish SOMETHING you've started. Like...I don't know, that recruitment story? That dragon thingy might show up any minute and want to know what we're doing outside the door.

 

Eh, the bulletin posted up said that 'the dragon thingy' sometimes takes forever to check his office. But I guess you're right. Ciri said, clambering to her feet. She grabbed her bag and flung it over her shoulder, then stuck the crystal into her pocket. I don't think I'll apply, though. I mean, I'm sure everyone's busy and all that, and reading my stuff would just be a pain, I'm sure. Besides, I'll probably be all shy and not be able to think of anything to write. You know how I get. Ciri flashed her reflection a wan smile.

 

Yeah, I know. C'mon, we've got that five-scroll assignment to write for class today. No time to feel sorry for yourself!

 

"But I do it so well!" Ciri said coyly, fluttering her eyelashes at her reflection, then giggled. Adjusting her bag, she glanced once more at the door to the recruitment office, then shook her head with a depreciating little smile and began walking away with hurried steps, head down, trying not to attract too much attention to herself. She was so busy trying not to be noticed, in fact, she didn't notice the hum of her crystal ball, or the short trail of papers left in front of the recruitment hall. Or the few sheets of paper that fell out of her bag as she picked it up. In fact, she didn't even notice the smug little grin that seemed to tug at her lips in every reflective surface she passed.

 

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OOC - Not actually much of a story, I know. Perhaps I'll mention what was written on the scraps of paper another day. Right now, me and several voices need to go do a five-page paper.

[Wyvern]

A deep snoring echoes across the walls and paper stacks of the Recruiter's Office, its sound slightly muffled by the position of a Naughty Nymph magazine on top of Wyvern's sleeping snout. The reptilian Elder snorts awake as the rustle of paperwork and fallen books drifts from the hall outside the Office, the combination of sounds suggesting fresh new marketing prey for Almost Dragonic Products. Wyvern brushes the magazine off of his face and grumbles to himself with a sleepy smack of his lips, reaching for a bottle of Bruteweiser and downing the last fourth of it as a wake-up call. He shifts his feet from their position on his desktop and hops out of his chair, maneuvering past an obstacle course of crumpled scheme piles before arriving at his closed Office door. The overgrown lizard presses the side of his head against the door to try to listen to what the new prey might be saying, then lowers his eyes to Woody's keyhole only to have the Office door block his line of sight with a fragment of wood. Wyvern growls and tries pushing on Woody the Office door's handle to greet the prey, only to find him as jammed and uncooperative as ever.

 

"Dammit Woody!" Wyvern hisses and kicks the Office door. He yelps at the feel of a strategically placed splinter, then clenches his teeth and flaps his wings once to let off some steam. "Fine! I'll continue to do thisss the hard way, as usssual."

 

Wyvern hops on one foot to the Office window on the other side of the room, almost slipping on some sheets of paper detailing designs for Almost Dragonic Brand Extra-Firm Slippers™ in the process. The overgrown lizard squeezes his way out of the window, crawls down the wall into the Pen's Courtyard with a clumsy slip or two, then marches around to the entrance of the Pen Keep and enters through the front door. He storms down the halls of the Keep in an agitated state, passing by a woman in a large cloak without so much as a glance and eventually arriving at the other side of his Office door. Wyvern kicks Woody the Office door from the other side and stubs his toe with a yelp, then kneels down to inspect the mysterious trail of papers that seems to have been left by his latest prey. He picks up each sheet and reads them with increasing curiousity, calculating the value of the crystalline sphere and the fees that Rici might charge for counseling in his head. He pauses when the trail of papers finally ends at Ciri, who is seated at the Pen's Cabaret bar awaiting a drink.

 

"'Sssscuse me." Wyvern clears his throat of a few ashes. "Wyvern, nice to meetcha. You mussst beeee..."

 

Wyvern shuffles through the collected papers in his claws, tearing at their edges a bit in the process.

 

"Ciri!" Wyvern claps his claws together. "Welcome to the Pen. Lissssten, I don't sss'pose there might be any chance that you'd be willing to let me consssider these pages as a Pen application? I mean, I see in here that yer thinking of not applying, but I think thisss would more than suffice as an application... with only a few of the necesssary strings attached, of course."

 

Wyvern strikes a grin full of razor-sharp teeth and rubs his claws together, shadowing Ciri a bit with his wings...

[Ciri]

Ciri jumped at the sound of a voice - speaking to her, of all people - and turned to look at the Almost Dragon, eyes widening in surprise as she took an instinctive step back. Then she noticed the papers, and the fact that the dragon knew her name, and reddening as she realized just who she was talking to - and just what those papers Wyvern was holding were. She opened her mouth, but before she could respond the bartender arrived with her drink.

 

"Excuse me." she says, flashing the Almost Dragon a nervous smile, then grabbing her drink and taken a large gulp. Rici you two-timing backstabbing self-righteous impossible snarky little HORROR! You are SO dead!

 

You're welcome, came the smug reply. Now, smile prettily and talk to The Great Scaly One over there - he looks like he's getting impatient. And hungry.

 

Clearing her throat, she settles her drink back down at the counter and looks at Wyvern. "Umm...well, if you really think they're all right as an application. But - strings?" She asks curiously, reaching into her pocket and touching the facets of her crystalline sphere, which immediately begins to turn cloudy.

 

Wyvern's grin widens, revealing even more extra-sharp teeth. "Jusssst a few minor thingssss here and there. What, don't you trussst me?"

 

All conversation in the bar stops, and after a moment the room fills with the sound of snickers, giggles, chuckles, and outright laughter. Ciri looks around for a moment, a half-smile tugging at her lips before she shakes her head, then looks back at Wyvern with what might be her first geniune smile. "If I answer that, what're the chances of that application actually going through?" she asks, pushing her glasses back into place.

 

Wyvern somehow manages to shoot everyone in the bar an Almost Draconic Dirty Look, grumbling to himself. Ciri giggles, then takes the crystal sphere out of her pocket, tracing an 's' on one facet before reaching into her pocket and pulling out a few sheets of paper. "I sort of might have something better for you to read, if you really think I should apply..." she says, and hands the almost dragon a slim folder...

 

OOC note - Thanks, Wyvern!. For some reason, this place has left me feeling all creative and stuff for the first time in a while, so I actually DID write a story just for this place. Once I find it, I'll stick it here Shouldn't take more than a few hours >.> (Ciri is extremely, incredibly messy)

 

Also, I'm not used to roleplay-by-post, this probably being the....first time ever I've done it, so I hope you'll forgive me if it's not a brilliant masterpiece of skilled writing x)

[Wyvern]

"Oh excccellent." Wyvern looks over the exterior of the folder from all angles, measuring its corners and dimensions with his claws in what could have passed for an Almost Dragonic Brand Pantomime Routine™. "Yes, yesss, this folder will be perfect for filing thingsss like rejected Pen applications. Thanks a bunch, Ciri! Sssay though... how did you know I like bribes?"

 

Wyvern eyes Ciri suspiciously for a moment as she smiles a bit and shrugs her shoulders. He twirls the end of his tail in his claw and glances around at the rest of the bar with an Almost Dragonic Brand Even Dirtier Look™, causing the surrounding pennites to go back to minding their own beverages. Wyvern rubs his claws together and seats himself next to Ciri, striking another full grin and looking her in the eyes.

 

"Now then, sssince I really think you should apply and since you've handed me this neat folder gift as your application, I think it's safe to say that we're ready to discuss the ssstrings attached to this acceptance." Wyvern shuffles through the original pages dropped by Rici and traces a claw down the words while Ciri frowns. He stops at a certain passage and taps it twice, almost tearing a hole in the page in the process. "Says here that you've had temporary employment as the center of the universe. Issat accurate?"

 

"Well." Ciri stares into her drink in a somewhat bashful manner and runs a finger around the edge of her glass. "I suppose, but-"

 

"Ah perfect!" Wyvern snickers to himself and extends a wing so that his conversation with Ciri will be a bit more private. "Lisssten, there'sss this product called Almost Dragonic Brand Universal Tentacle-Removing Q-Tips™ that I've been trying to market, but I'm lacking a spokesperson to give the product the right promotional push. Sssince you were once the center of the universe, you could give the universal assspect of the product quite a salesss pitch. That is, if you'd be willing to sssponsor it? You'd be working without a sssalary, of course. But consider it wisely... the fate of your application may depend on it."

 

Wyvern nudges Ciri with a wink, and opens his mouth to go on about the work hours and geld revenue required of the position. His hissing is interrupted, however, as many of the politer pennites sitting at the bar clear their throats loudly in unison.

 

"*Grumble* ... oh alright, fine." Wyvern snorts to himself and stamps Ciri's application folder ACCEPTED. He glances at her and breaths a smoky-smelling sigh. "You're ACCEPTED whether or not you choose to take up the sssponsorship position... but still be sure to consider it, alright?!"

 

;-)

 

OOC: While I realize that you still have a story you'd very much like to share, I'm ACCEPTING this RP exchange as your application Ciri. Welcome to the Mighty Pen! I'm really looking forward to reading your story (which you should now post in the Assembly Room) and anything else you have to offer us in terms of your writing. I also think you did an awesome job of roleplaying on the spot in this thread, and am really looking forward to more off-the-cuff RPing with you in the future! I'm sure we'll be seeing much more of each other here, but for now I'd just like to once again welcome you to the Pen! I hope you find it a very friendly and welcoming community of creative-minded individuals.

[Quincunx]

If I could flick over this in a brief, omniscient, immersion-breaking manner--Finnius, how do you manage to keep convincing women that you need to be killed? You're such an affable type.

[Finnius]

It's a talent of dubious use and questionable origins - after all, one would wonder how one would go about acquiring a skill that tends to result in the skillee being dead afterwards, but somehow I have managed!

 

Hurrah?