After all this time, an application

[Guest Neo Madeen]

Griever at first, walked up timidly to the oaken doors of the application center. Breathing in deeply as he peered up towards the arched doorway while gripping onto his favorite weathered gnarled staff in his left hand for support.

 

Silently the young mage pushed on the dark brown door with his shoulder, while turning the bronze handle with his other free hand. The young man's fingers felt clammy from the sweat against the cold iron that was wrought about it like a fine lace.

 

As Griever stepped through the threshold and into the guild's conclave for hopeful writers, poets and storyteller's alike, his eyes adjusted to the dim light. It was a warm room, quiet. Much like a study, but with surprisingly less people then the typical recruiter's office.

 

Banners of all sorts hung precariously from the arched ceiling and swayed among the breeze that tousled them about from the open door. As Griever scanned the room with his cleaver light brown eyes, as far as he could tell he was the only one present. All the better, he liked to do his work in silence and couldn't help feel a load of weight had been taken off his shoulders.

 

Griever closed the door behind him then took his time, while walking in slow strides to the desk at the end of the room Griever held the gnarled staff he came in with loosely, tapping the carpet every so often. His chief admiration were heavily on the elaborate wood carvings that littered the room, it was almost as if the room it self was a book and he had just walked into it's pages. It was a visual feast for his eyes.

 

Then once he had taken in enough culture or more less because he could venture no further into the room, Griever took a seat at the desk in front of him in a grand old red velvet covered chair and rested his staff beside him, then painstakingly adjusted a mess of flowing robes.

 

Once everything was just so, Griever cracked his knuckles in anticipation, and looked down at a single sheet of ivory colored paper with a quill resting in a small jar of ink beside it on the lacquered surface of the desk.

 

After another deep breath, Griever reached over with his right hand an dipped the sharp quill head into the black sanguine pool and started to write.

 

At first Griever's thoughts were ajar, he sat still. Words struggled to immerge from the pen as letters, then slowly and not all at once, an idea began to form. Griever thoughts began to flow and spill messily onto the paper as he ran his fingers through his tousled brown hair, stopping to rest his forehead in his palm.

 

Some times a wry smile would make it's way onto his face then vanish quietly as it came. He would feel that he just had to add one more sentence or character, to try and make the application a work of perfection. Knowing that it could never be done. That is what made him grin. Knowing something that can't be done and trying to do it anyway.

 

For a few hours he kept up this pace, but grew steadily tired and finally muttering "This should do it, I hope." pleased with his small accomplishment as he stood up, and stretched.

 

Turning around promptly at the sound of closing oaken doors, he saw that another person had entered. Though to his dismay, when Griever reached over to present the paper his masterpiece was written on, to the recruiter, it was gone.

 

Not that the paper had been stolen, but because the words were over lapping each other on a sheet of black paper. He had been so busy thinking what to write and enjoying his recollections that his own hand had lead it self astray.

 

Silently Griever shook his head and said quietly as he stared at the carpet sheepishly "This might take another five minutes"

 

 

OOC: I hope this is enough writing =)

 

 

 

Edited by: Neo Madeen  at: 11/18/02 8:14:43 pm

[Tralla]

While waiting nervously, poor Griever suddenly finds himself sprawled flat on the floor by an unseen hugtackle!

 

"Griever!"

 

Now why is that view familiar... He thinks.

 

"About bloody time you got here. Geez." Picking herself up - and Griever along with her - Tralla dusts herself off and scurries from the room with a breezy wave and a flippant, "Things to do, essays to write, work to go to... Blech."

 

(And Pere, unless YOU intend to fix it, my sig stays as is until I'm not running at frantic speeds to keep up with my damn classes...)

[Wyvern]

Wyvern curiously examines the illegible mess of an application handed to him by Neo Madeen, squinting his eyes and wondering what the blackness accompanied by small unshaded specks of white could possibly represent. Hesitating to respond to the eager applicant and nodding to his request for 5 more minutes of writing time, the overgrown lizard lets out a loud whistle that echoes throughout the halls of the Pen. A few moments later, the 8 Pen Elder Dwarves enter the chamber in an orderly single file line, humming to themselves:

 

"Hi ho...

Hi ho...

Responding to apps is slow

Tzimfemme was burnt

Wyv hasn't learnt

Hi ho...

Hi ho, hi ho, hi ho..."

 

Once the 8 dwarves have lined themselves in front of Wyvern, the perplexed Elder hands them the black sheet of paper Neo Madeen had previously submitted as his application and asks:

 

"I was wondering... what do you guys make of this application? It's kinda abstract..."

 

Greedy, the first in the line of Elder dwarves, looks over the sheet of paper and exclaims:

 

"It's a picture of a gigantic oil supply, of course!!! One that I'm certain would make me filthy rich!"

 

Grouchy then snatches the application from Greedy's hand, looks over it, and mumbles:

 

"It's a picture of a black cloud... kind of like the one that always hovers over my head... *grumble, grumble*"

 

Sleazy takes the application after Grouchy is done with it, carefully examining it before belching:

 

"It kinda reminds me of this one time I had diarrhea..."

 

Before Sleazy can continue, Wacky rushes by on a scooter and snatches the application out of his hand, looking at it upside down while wildly exclaiming:

 

"No no no no!!! This is an upside down self-portrait of myself in a parallel universe! I'm handsome in it too!"

 

Shiny then plucks the application out of Wacky's hand as he passes by... Clearly concerned, she glances at the blackness for a moment and then procedes to take out a magnifying glass and examine it carefully...

 

"Aha! If one looks closely, one can make out slightly shiny regions of unshaded paper..."

 

Sexy looks over Shiny's shoulder at the application, and purrs:

 

"It's definitely a design for black leather..."

 

Finally, Courtesy is handed the application and looks at it very closely with the help of Shiny's magnifying glass. Noticing that a few words on the sheet are partially legible, he politely states:

 

"It seems to me that the applicant was trying to write something, probably something good, but let his hand stray off track in the process. I think we should accept this application, as it would be polite to do so and would save him the effort of writing another. It's a pity that noone can decipher it..."

 

Suddenly, Silly, the 8th Pen Elder dwarf/orangutan, wips out a sign that reads "I can!". Tossing the sign to the side and grabbing Neo Madeen's application out of Courtesy's hands, the orangutan then procedes to tear the application into tiny shreds. He then juggles the pieces around while applying glue... and after he has finished, the application has miraculously become legible.

 

Wyvern takes one good look at the legible version of Neo Madeen's application before immediatly stamping it "ACCEPTED".

 

 

OOC: An ACCEPTED application, Griever. Welcome to the Mighty Pen! Be sure to post your e-mail here or drop me a mail at elitwack90@hotmail.com so I can send you the password info and such...

 

 

Edited by: Wyvern00  at: 11/27/02 12:52:57 pm

[Vlad]

A story within a story. Marvelous.

Simply amazing.

No... I'll go back to marvelous.

 

It's amazingly marvelous!

---Vlad the Imploder---

 

No relation to Vlad the Impaler

 

"If I had $75 for every time that happened, by the way, it'll cost you $75..." -Dr. Hibbert

 

"Hello, everybody!" -Dr. Nick

 

"Me is smart. Dur." -Stick

[Guest Neo Madeen]

Griever bowed slightly trying very hard to hide a large cresent smile on his face. A great sigh of relief washed over him just then, he never really could bear the feelings of trepidation that accompanied applications.

 

Though today was starting to lighten up, a hug tackle from Tralla and his new title. Griever glanced breifly at the dwarfs and back to Wyvern as he outreached his hand and said

 

"It is a pleasure to meet your aquaintence Wyvern, and not to mention these tiny friends of yours as well."

 

OOC: My email is Griever123@hotmail.com

 

and thanks for the compliments Vlad =)

[Vlad]

The dwarves aren't the only thing Wyvern has thats tiny...

 

*runs away... far, far away*

Edited by: Vlad the Imploder at: 11/29/02 8:38:07 am

[Guest lumpenproletariat]

Note to Self: Hit Wyvern very hard next time he is on IRC