Zadown Posted October 8, 2002 Report Posted October 8, 2002 Suddenly right in front of Daryl and Prospero, in the spot where the tracks disappeared, a shimmering gate opened and the Dreamer walked out. Oblivious to his surroundings as usual he sidestepped back to Astral ... and left the magnificent, shiny flickering unreal gate there. The furry pair looked at each other and jumped in.
Guest Inbi Infusco Posted October 9, 2002 Report Posted October 9, 2002 Meanwhile, Inbi Infusco (female) was off somewhere far away, trying to avoid "weeniness" despite her inactivity. She pondered whether this was maybe her third post on these boards. Regardless, she knew that if she posted here she would probably soon be dragged into the story in one way or another. Weenie Infusco wasn't such a bad name after all, was it? Ah well, one small post can't hurt, can it?
Guest Minta Rose Posted October 10, 2002 Report Posted October 10, 2002 Minta hung onto the tail of her skellie-aquatic-dino-fossil with one hand, sucking air from a extra-long super twirly crazy straw which poked up from beneath the lagoon. This was the BESTEST skellie EVER! There weren't even any living any more! She giggled out bubbles, took another sip of air, and spoke into the hole in the side of one vertebra. Her voice traveled in place of the spinal cord and echoed above water along with the top of the beast's spine. . . . "Shiny. . .castle shiny. . .shells here, flowers there. . .all shiny. . ." Rydia hummed, sticking tiny buds of moon jasmine here and there in the gilded sand. Moon jasmine went so much better with silver, but the shininess was golden this time, and she liked the smell of these flowers better than tawny tigersmanes. She ringed the last of the future gardens with driftwood to replicate a hedge and smiled at the blueprint. . .now how to preserve it until she could get Starlight to approve? . . .
Gyrfalcon Posted October 10, 2002 Report Posted October 10, 2002 This passage was not for them. That, Daryl was convinced of as Prospero and he careened down the passage, tumbling wildly as it shook and distorted, twisting against their movement through its length. Suddenly, the passage... tore. There was no other word, and the furry pair tumbled out, yelping wildly as they flew. Bagghins(with optional sssss) was looking over his shoulder to gauge pursuit, and thus didn’t see a small rent in the air appear, opening up into the swirling colors of pure Chaos. He also didn’t see a small russet, black and white form shoot from the portal, though he *did* hear the loud yip just before Daryl impacted with his upper chest, unbalancing the lizard-creature. “What the, where did you-“ Bagghins hissed, then yelped in pain as the werefox dug his claws into the lizard man’s scales to halt his slide downward. Which was roughly when the rift opened wider in a final burst and hurled Prospero out before snapping closed. The hurtling wolf caught the lizard in the ankles, and with a squawk the mass of fur and scales went down, the lizard’s bag breaking open as it did, distributing the collected ‘precioussses’ across the ground. “My precioussses!” the creature said, frantically grabbing and stuffing them into the sack, knowing pursuit would be closing. In its haste, it didn’t realize that one ‘preciousss’ was in fact a somewhat irate fox until four sets of claws raked its hand and forearm as it tried to stuff Daryl into a sack. “Nasty preciousss thief!” Bagghins hissed before shaking Daryl off, sending the werefox flying into a bush. Distracted by gathering the various stolen items, Bagghins didn’t notice Prospero the wolf shaking his head to clear it of floating little purple fuzzy creatures of doom.
Guest Jonathan Wolfe Posted October 10, 2002 Report Posted October 10, 2002 Through the portal fell another hapless person, another fox in fact, though this one garbed in a simple robe/tunic thingy and quite surprised to be in motion. He aimed his feet downward and managed a three (or four) point landing. "Just where... who... What's going on? My nap is ruined!" He said, surveying the curious scene before him, "And what's with the fuzzy purple things?" He looked about and shrugged, smiling to himself, "It -must- be roll call, no good has ever come of one" OOC:Jonathan sticks up his hand, "Present! uh...Please? It's my birthday in a few days!" Don't mind my extreme lurkyness Edited by: Jonathan Wolfe at: 10/10/02 10:54:50 am
Canid Posted October 10, 2002 Report Posted October 10, 2002 OOC: I suppose the purple fuzzy's were picked up in the portal then.... *looks confused* IC: Prospero shook his head several times before he realized the fuzzy things were not just the result of landing half on his head. Daryl whizzed past his face into a near-by bush and Prospero was distracted from the fuzzies. He looked over to the lizard man running rapidly away from him and identified him as Daryl's attacker. Prospero leapt forward, fuzzies flying from his fur, and charged easilly into the lizard man. It was not normally Prospero's practise to attack those stronger than him, but he was an honourable wolf, and his friend had been thrown. Bagghins toppled at the unexpected jump and all the stolen items again crashed to the ground. Prospero quickly grabbed several of the most valuable ones in his jaws and moved fluidly behind the cluster of confused fuzzies. Daryl opened his eyes and waited in a daze for his vision to clear. There were dozens of purple fuzzy things now. They were all standing in a row infront of Prospero, who had a very cunning look on his face. Bagghins ran at Prospero, not noticing the purple mice on the ground and in doing so, stepped on one. As Bagghins was proppelled into the air at a speed to match a falcon near the end of it's dive, he thought momentarilly of a green frog grinning at him. "How strange." he said before hitting the ground. Daryl got splattered with lizard man and heard some of the fuzzy's cheering. "I've changed my mind," called Prospero amid the purple, his old good-humoured practical joker's grin returning to his face, "I've decided I like the purple things after all."
Tralla Posted October 10, 2002 Report Posted October 10, 2002 The intangible Tralla, as always completely bereft of any physical manifestation, felt a tugging at her consciousness and meandered her scholastically-hazed brain in the general direction of the Pen. Eyes bugging as, through the mist, a chaotic and ultimately horribly distracting scene on a sunny embankment unfolded, she turned and ran as far and fast as she could in the opposite direction, back to her macroarchitecture and binary opposites... For those were, in the end, all that occupied her thoughts, these days.
Guest Stale AOD Posted October 12, 2002 Report Posted October 12, 2002 Stale enters the room, looks around at old and familiar, new and unfamiliar. As always the warm and sweet air of the Pen overwhelms his lungs for a split second and sends shivers through his cold and weary bones. Its been some time since the barbarian walked the halls of the pen, and it feels good, it actually feels great. Stale hands his sheepskin cloak to Peredhil and determined walks over to the desk and to no one in particular directs his voice. "Where do I sign up for another campaign". The scribe at the desk looks up, examines the uncivilzed barbarian in front of him, his eye stops and focus on the battle axe hanging from the barbarians belt. "Sir.. eh, great war-rior... this is THE PEN, not a place for mercenaries or campaigns of destruction, you have come to the wrong place". Stale fixes his eyes on the scribe, an aura of anger grows around him, then as if something suddenly transformed him, he takes a deep breath. "Dear scribe of the Pen, I am here to sign up for another set amongst the learned. I am Stale, long term initiate of the Pen and indeed, and uncivilized norse barbarian. I travelled far and travelled long to be here, yet again. I am here to tell and listen to stories, songs and poetry. To salvage my soul". The scribe seems somewhat surprised by the unexpected and not so uncivilized words from this brute. "here, all you have to do is to sign this document sir norse and uncivilized barbarian". Stale laughs "So be it then..." Stale signs the parchment and joins Peredhil at the bar. __________________________________________ Ex-owner of the holy grail, Member of the Official A1 Zombie Club, Inventor of Green Slime and Initiate of the Pen is Mightier than the Sword Which Colossal Death Robot Are You?
Guest Cheye519 Posted October 13, 2002 Report Posted October 13, 2002 Stagging in from out of the cold night air (actually don't really know if night or cold, but it sounds nice....) I meander over to the warm fire (do we have one right now or is this all in my imagination???) and warm my bitterly cold fingers, rubbing the briskly together as I stomp some imaginary snow off of my boots...Grateful to be once again, home. Geez, I have missed you all terribly!!!! Edited by: Cheye519 at: 10/12/02 2:08:57 pm
Wyvern Posted October 13, 2002 Report Posted October 13, 2002 As the Sun slowly begins it's decent beneath the hilly ridges, covering the river bank and the stretching plains beyond it in a beautfull semi-golden light that would have undoubtedly passed Rydia's "shiny test", several happy animals begin to curl up with one another to watch the glamorous sunset in the peace and tranquility of their natural homes... ... This Disney-like scene is rudely interrupted, however, as an enormous garbage truck passes by, polluting the air and causing the animals to go into violent fits of coughing while giving them serious respiratory problems... What is the significance of this garbage truck and how did it enter into a story that deals largely with thieves named Baghinssss, purple fuzzy things, and interdimensional travel you ask? Well... it just so happens that Wyvern, that lizard amongst lizards, had hitched a ride in the back of the truck in the hopes of getting back to the Pen. It was safe to say that the overgrown lizard was not in the best of spirits, yet the greedy Elder was never the less hopefull that the Mighty Pen would be somewhere near the trucks weekly garbage route... Wyvern hadn't had the best of days... in fact, it's safe to say that the overgrown lizard was in a pretty miserable condition. He was covered in dirty water and sea weed, had a fish of some sort sticking out his left ear, was penniless, and to top things off his tail still hurt from the scratches Cambronne had made earlier. Wyvern lets out a long sigh and sniffs to himself, holding his nose in disgust after doing so... Garbage trucks weren't exactly his favorite means of transportation either... After having sat in the garbage truck for quite a while, Wyvern gets dumped into an ice cold lake that resides near the Mighty Pen. This is not particularly pleasant, as, while Wyvern naturally hates water, he just so happens to hate icey water even more... Never the less, the cold lake manages to clean Wyv of his smell and sea weed, and the freezing lizard quickly rushes over to the Pen in need of warmth and comfort. Entering through the main entrance, the shivering lizard immediatly rushes down the central hall, passing Stale and Peredhil at the bar and entering a cozy area of the Cabaret Room where a fireplace is burning. Rushing up to the fireplace and placing his face up against the very grill of the flames, Wyvern hugs it's circumference and lets out an exhausted sigh, letting the cold pass out of him... Now, if he only had some form of comfort... It is at this moment that Wyvern feels a slight poke on his shoulder and turns to find none other than his beloved Cheyenne, who is giggeling softly to herself from having caught the goofy lizard off guard. Wyvern is speechless for a long moment, delightfully astonished that his cherished sweetheart has finally returned, but fortunatly few words need to be spoken... Needless to say, if the fire hadn't fully rid Wyvern of his cold, the prolonged and passionate kiss certainly did... Perhaps this wasn't turning out to be such a bad day after all... [image]http://members.shaw.ca/kea/am/wyvy.jpg[/image] ------------------------------ Almost a Dragon... "My life is one big crime, I try to scheme through it." -Common, "The 6th Sense" Owner of the Decanter of Endless Booze. Edited by: Wyvern00 at: 10/13/02 12:28:32 am
Orlan Posted October 13, 2002 Report Posted October 13, 2002 Orlan, Elder of things that are difficult to remember right now, laid in bed, sleeping, soundly. The Elder took his breaths one by one, wrapped in a blanket of the thickest down. Commotion was spreading, chaos was reigning....yet Orlan simply slept on. Because it was LATE.....and he was TIRED....and damn kids these days turn the damn AC up all the way, sending the bills through the roof and causing him to break into his Mutual Funds to take out the money to pay for the rat bastards. But still....Orlan snoozed on. It's good to be the Sexy Sexy Elder...
Guest Psimon2001 Posted October 14, 2002 Report Posted October 14, 2002 The tall, two-tone elf, not desiring in the least to be labeled a weenie in his first months of membership, dutifully trudged to The Pen, oblivious to the Chaos and purple things and Lizard-Men and Bagghins' and shinies. In fact, he was oblivious to all things as he staggered, heavy-laden, to the door of The Pen. Well, oblivious of all that did not constitute holding his brains within his skull - for they surely threatened to ooze from every orifice he possessed above his shoulders. He was an elf sore-pressed, oppressed, depressed and voiceless. He had sold his soul to the very one he had sworn never to adhere to. His sanity was thus forfeit, as was his poetic heart. The reason became clearer when he lowered his burden to the table and several unholy tomes spewed forth... "70-216 Implementing and Administering a Microsoft Windows 2000 Network Infrastructure" "70-217 Implementing and Administering a Microsoft Windows 2000 Directory Services Infrastructure" "70-219 Designing a Microsoft Windows 2000 Directory Services Infrastructure" It was heartbreaking reading the titles alone, let alone the contents of each desecrated scribble within... He hung his head in shame and begged forgiveness from all and sundry for his continued absence and inactivity. The burden of his dark vow weighed heavily upon him. Only time would tell if he could withstand the trials ahead. Only time would restore the Chaos and purple things and Lizard-Men and Bagghins' and shinies... Time and a scribe of more worth than I...
Gwaihir Posted October 14, 2002 Author Report Posted October 14, 2002 Officially closed. I'll be updating the list soon Edited by: gwaihir1 at: 10/14/02 4:18:01 pm
Canid Posted October 14, 2002 Report Posted October 14, 2002 The purple fuzzy thing stood by the building and watched as Prospero and Daryl moved silently away from it. Prospero has given it a studying look before he left which hadn't encouraged it. It began to rub the sores out of its fur from the three days of riding aboard a wolf and as its brusqueness wore off and time lengthened it began worrying. The two Canids had been gone a long time. The fuzzy again recalled the studying look the wolf had given it.... as if making up his mind about something. Why had Canid's trail disappeared? The fuzzy purple creature began to feel around first with its paws and then with its magic. Upon use of the latter it immediately found something it didn't like. The gold fuzzies had been here. The gold fuzzies were a larger, more warring and evil race of fuzzy things stopped only by the idol. They also smelled like purple fuzzies, only fouler. Maybe Prospero had thought the gold fuzzies were purple fuzzies, purple fuzzies kin to itself. The purple fuzzy thing began worrying about several things at once. Canid was in danger, as gold fuzzies happened to be abnormally good at sneaking up on people and were unsensed by Terran magic, being from another dimension. If Canid had the idol already, then the gold fuzzies might get it. And finally, the purple fuzzy might have been abandoned by the two Canids. The purple fuzzy thing ran in a circle for a few seconds, trying to decide what to do first before running off in pursuit of Prospero and Daryl. Then the cat struck. The purple fuzzy felt a pointy paw cover it up and rotated its head around to see what was trapping it. The small but deadly jaws of the Felid were already moving toward it. The purple fuzzy squeaked and sent a powerful bolt of energy into the animal's mouth. The cat flew backward and before it hit the ground, the fuzzy was running again. It stopped where the trail ended and sniffed around. There had been no gold fuzzies here, but Prospero and Daryl had disappeared. It hadn't sensed this kind of magic in either of them. The fuzzy looked around more and found the mark of a portal and a plane shifter. Fuzzies were very familiar with plane shifters, they employed them with great frequency. The purple fuzzy felt the spot where the portal had been, there were already only weak traces of magic left. Prospero and Daryl could be anywhere. Edited by: Canid at: 10/14/02 9:08:18 pm
Gwaihir Posted October 15, 2002 Author Report Posted October 15, 2002 Sorry to interupt the story again, but There, I think I've adjusted all titles accordingly, and updated the list...We'll see. Smack me if I messed up. Edited by: gwaihir1 at: 10/18/02 11:34:02 am
Annael Posted October 16, 2002 Report Posted October 16, 2002 Annael sits on her fluffly cloud and turns the weenie over on it spit and watches the activity below. She smiles occassionally, gives a laugh at other times and wonders if she's in some weird sort of dream or a JRR Tolkien, Orson Scott Card, The Pen Guild type of story making. Annael flutters her wings a little and takes a bite of the weeine and summons some butterflies to interest the kitties into causing more mischif and settles back to watch with a little smirk.
Falcon2001 Posted October 17, 2002 Report Posted October 17, 2002 I really do pity you, Psimon. Cioden Darkeye Quill-Bearer - The Pen is Mightier than the Sword Owner of the Reply Raven - Enemy to all those who never post responses "Oh my God, I'm LEAKING POETRY!"
Guest lumpenproletariat Posted October 18, 2002 Report Posted October 18, 2002 *walks in pointing at the badge on his chest* What the hell is this? ;P, an ancient weenie?
Annael Posted October 20, 2002 Report Posted October 20, 2002 just eat it. I did. Hehehe...hey, does this mean that I'm no longer an initiate?
Peredhil Posted October 21, 2002 Report Posted October 21, 2002 the Membership List has all current rankings. The Weenie thing is a *hopefully* temporary state, which can be bought off by making a creative post (which doesn't have to be about weenies by the way) of poetry, roleplaying, or a story, which has the word 'weenie' in the title. "How I ate my Weenie, by Annael" for instance... "A man's judgment is best when he can forget himself and any reputation he may have acquired and can concentrate wholly on making the right decisions." -ADM Raymond A. Spruance
Guest ArawnD Posted October 21, 2002 Report Posted October 21, 2002 Sorry for the lateness, but I've been so busy.....(falls to sleep) The Mad King
Guest SaberCoEP Posted October 26, 2002 Report Posted October 26, 2002 So I have to write something creative with the word weenie in the title to get rid of this dumb thing? Heh.. Guess I'll just go on being a weenie.. I don't feel much like writing now.. Yippee, I get to go to the cancer treatment center next week. Blah.. What a pain..
Guest lumpenproletariat Posted October 28, 2002 Report Posted October 28, 2002 The Weenie Mad King *amused*
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