Guest Zephryin Posted February 14, 2002 Report Posted February 14, 2002 Zeph's back hurt. The fact that this was so wasn't so significant in itself: he was a courier, and after being on a frantic, 10 hour shift, his muscles were prone to disagree with what his brain wanted him to do. Most businesses were closed, and after having the wonderful luck to find two gas stations who's bathrooms were either undergoing maitenence or being cleaned, he finally found one that without any such activities so obnoxious to him at the moment. Standing in front of the urinal, he muttered to himself, "Hell, a regular Austin Powers over here," After washing, he glanced at his watch, then at his list. "Just one, one more," he proclaimed, grinning. Then, something wierd... The clerk was gone, as were the customers. While he had downed one of the monstrosities known as a big gulp drink earlier, he didn't think he'd been in the john long enough for everyone previosly there to get checked through... And why would the clerk abandon the counter? "Lazy bum," he snorted dismissively. Back on his bike, though, the streets were empty. Empty at six o'clock, when rush hour should still be going. He slowed, looking about himself, his mind uneasy. He found himself approaching the delivery address, slowed, and stopped on the curb. Climbing the narrow stairs of the peculiarly non-descript, brown brick building, the vexation creapt back to the front of his brain. There was absolutely no sound, whatsoever, in the middle of the evening when the city should be at it's busiest. He had stopped on the middle of the staircase. A brown, non-descript box to be delivered to an office in a brown non-descript building... The universe is just screwing with my head, that's all, he stolidly decided. Setting his jaw, and attempting to clear his mind, he marched up the remaining stairs, entered the hallway, and approached the appropriate door. His fist raised to give the door a sound pounding, something expected of any self-respecting delivery person, when it unlatched and slowly drifted partially open, without him so much as breathing on it. He had stopped cold. The universe is just screwing with my head, just screwing with me, he thought nervously, now fighting a mild panic. Attempting to return some moisture to his suddenly parched mouth, he pushed the door open the rest of the way. Nothing. There was absolutely nothing in the room. Actually, not exactly nothing. A thick, highly visable film of dust covered the floor of the otherwise unoccupied office. According to his boss, one Mr. Wyvern00, if he existed, had been adamant that the address be recorded properly. Zeph knew he was not in the wrong place, but desperately wished he was. What the hell is going on around here?!?
Wyvern Posted February 15, 2002 Report Posted February 15, 2002 Zephryin cautiously enters the rickety confinements of the old rusty house, slowly pacing over the squeaky floorboards and hesitantly looking around... Apart from the noise made by Zeph's footsteps and howling of the wind outside, an eery and unnatural silence envelopes the building. Zelph swallows hard as he ventures further into the house, and pauses for a moment as the wind seems to blow the door shut behind him... as if everything were on cue... Suddenly, Zephryin's attention is diverted from the shutting door as a clawed hand suddenly lays itself on his shoulder. He turns and is about to scream when a second scaly hand quickly covers his mouth and silences him. After flailing about for a moment, Zeph recognizes the figure as his boss, Mr. Wyvern, and calms down. "Ssssssshhhhhhh..." hisses the overgrown lizard "... quiet! I managed to evacuate the entire town for this meeting under the false alarm that there was going to be an enormous Ricky Martin concert. We don't have much time! Did you bring the goods...?" "Y-yes sir..." mutters Zeph, taking out the package he had been sent to bring and laying it in front of Wyv. Zeph watches in awe as the overgrown lizard zealously tears open the package and begins pulling out what appear to be several pairs of ladies lingery... Annael's lingery, to be precise... ;p Suddenly, both Wyvern and Zephryin jump in shock as a voice amplified by a loudspeaker booms "FREEZE!" from directly outside the building. Wyv cringes as he instantly recognizes the voice... it was that of one of his arch-nemesis', Inspector I. M. Clueless... "COME OUT WITH YOUR HANDS ABOVE YOUR HEAD, WYVERN! YOU'RE SURROUNDED! WE'VE GOT YOU NOW!" Quickly, Wyvern grabs as many handfulls of Annael's lingery as he can carry and swiftly breaks a large hole in a floor board with his foot. Before jumping into the newly made escape route, Wyv turns to Zeph, grins, and exclaims: "See you around, Zephryin! Your payment for this wonderfull delivery is all the lingery you can manage to stash and keep hidden in your pockets, this 'ACCEPTED' application form, and the annoyance of meeting Inspector Clueless!" With that, Wyv plugs his nose, puts on a pair of goggles, and jumps straight into his escape hole. Zeph is about to follow him, but before he can manage to do so a SWAT team bursts through the ceiling and several sirens go off everywhere for no apparent reason. The SWAT team quickly surrounds the poor delivery applicant and aim their wrist watches at him, shining pointless bright red lights into his face and murmering meaningless number codes to each other through mini-walkie-talkies (even though they could easily talk normally to each other, at the distances they were from one another). After the excitement of the agent crowd has settled, a man wearing a dark brown overcoat and holding a worn cigarette feebly between his teeth walks up to the surrounded Zephryin and manages to crack a small grin... Taking out a badge and shoving it directly in Zeph's face, the man in the overcoat mutters "I. M. Clueless, Private Eye! You, Wyvern, are under arrest for bank fraud, payment debts, theft, robbery, withstanding tax dues, arson, sexual harrasment, destruction of private property, cruelty to animals, multiple resistings of arrest, stealing candy from infants and little old ladies, bad taste, and posting an obscene picture of my wife for public display! How do you plead, you low filthy scumbag SON OF A @#$$%?!!!" Zeph flinches back as spittle from I. M. Clueless' mouth flies in his face... "Innocent..." he responds simply "I'm not Wyvern." Upon hearing this, I. M. Clueless grimaces and takes two steps back. "That's what they all say! Come on boys, we're taking our friend Wyvern here downtown..." "Errrr... I told you..." mumbles Zephryin while being pulled towards a black van by four SWAT agents "... I'm not Wyvern..." OOC: An ACCEPTED application, Zephryin! Welcome to the Pen, I look forward to RPing with you and reading more of your writing in the future. Could you please post your e-mail here or send me a mail at elitwack90@hotmail.com so that I can send you the password info? Thanks... [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: 2/14/02 7:29:03 pm
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