acception?

[gravia_lycan]

accept these words of mine

let me join when it is fine

join these forums and topic polls

write poems songs and let go when the rock rolls

 

not to creative I am yet

but grow better I will, wanna bet?

for this I want to join

just flip the coin

 

let me pass or let me fail

I will stand in a chain mail

take my pen and let it write

when the pen wields the might

[Wyvern]

Gravia sighs and taps his fingers on the armrests of his applicant easychair, staring across the mess of paperwork that clutters the Recruiter's Office and noting that his Pen application has yet to budge an inch on the Elder of Initiate's desk. He sighs and glances over at the Office's Rolodex clock for a moment, raising a brow as the various memos and scheme lists tacked to the appliance fail to hide the lateness of the hour. Gravia grumbles and lifts himself from his seat, certain that something must have happened to the Elder of Initiates given the hour, and turns to exit the Office with a huff of annoyance. The sound of a window slamming open makes him pause at the Office door, however, and he turns in time to see a mass of crimson scales collapse in with the draft of the breeze. Wyvern lifts himself from the floor with a stressful hiss, hurriedly brushing the various papers from his scales and revealing his cheap Almost Dragonic Brand excuse for a formal blue recruitment outfit. The overgrown lizard raises a claw to Gravia and strikes a sheepish toothy grin, then checks his tail stinger to make sure that his madlib response sheets are still attached before wandering up to the applicant.

 

"Greetingssss Gravia, apologies for the ssslight delay." Wyvern glances over at the Rolodex Office clock, then clears his throat and sticks another memo over it in the hopes of completely covering the hour hand. "You wouldn't believe the different ways that the press can put a spin on innocent products like Almost Dragonic Brand Ball and Chain Mail Letters™... I mean, whoever heard of dented mail box fines?"

 

Wyvern grumbles to himself and shakes his head, then spreads his wings slightly and bows to Gravia with a grin. The reptilian Elder hops his way back through the various paperwork obstacles that cover the Office floor until he reaches his desk. He plucks Gravia's application poem delicately from its position, flapping it in the air for a moment before skimming over it with his beady eyes.

 

"Thankssss for the application by the way, Gravia." Wyvern takes out a red pen and begins marking up notes on the poem sheet, not noticing Gravia's concerned expression as he scribbles. "I can definitely feel the enthusiasssm here, just gimme a sec..."

 

Wyvern finishes marking up the last stanza of the poem, then rubs the leaky red ink from his claws onto his tunic and turns his eyes towards Gravia.

 

"Nicely done here, Gravia." Wyvern taps the application sheet with one of his claws, tearing it a bit in the process. "A couple thingsss I wanna touch upon before I lay down the acceptance stamp on any of this. Firssst of all, in answer to your question in the second stanza, I would indeed like to bet with you on the whole growth element. As a matter of fact, I even have a little contract written up for it."

 

Wyvern pulls out a loaded document that measures at at least 40 pages in length and passes it to Gravia, along with the leaky red pen and an Almost Dragonic Brand Flattened Faerie Bookmark™.

 

"The document details my 10,000 geld bet that you will grow in this community. Jussst ignore the fine print about the various definitions of growth and sign pages 3, 16, and 30 if you would." Wyvern's forked tongue flickers in and out as he watches Gravia's skeptical expression. "Oh, and if you're going to flip a coin to see if you join, pleassse flip it into that Recruiter's Office Tips jar over there. That'd be great."

 

Wyvern reaches into his back pocket and pulls out a stamp, then promptly labels Gravia's application ACCEPTED. He places the sheet on top of the 40-page bet legality document with a wink.

 

"Now, pertaining to the final ssstanza of your poem, I was wondering if I might offer you a couple of Almost Dragonic Brand Ball and Chain Mail Letters™ at a ssspecial sales price of only 180 geld a piece." Wyvern reaches under his desk and pulls up a heavy metal ball with a post-it note attached, grunting as he barely manages to set it onto his desktop. "*Pant* contrary to popular belief *pant,* they're perfectly sssafe around mail boxes."

 

;-)

 

OOC: An ACCEPTED application poem, gravia. Welcome to the Mighty Pen! :-) I hope that you find us a friendly and open-minded community to share your writing with, and look forward to reading more of your works as well as hopefully collaborating with you in community events. Once again, welcome!