Gwaihir

The cube was funny. I never found it very hard to get any particular piece to completion but get bored before I got them to all do it together. Am I missing anything spectacular that happens when they all are at completion simultaneously?

"Serves you right!" One of those generally menacing expressions that says that whatever just happened to the topic-person was utterly deserved.

Katz, Yes, we really do have something in common and I wish we spoke more. I too REALLY wanted to send some notes here and almost didn't. Thank you for reminding me. I can't thank nearly as many people here as I should but there are a few of you who I absolutely must. You all are why I stay at the pen. Katz, I always enjoy the way you think, feel your sense of humor and appreciate the effort you put in. Once I have internet at home again (ideally at the beginning of next month) I will certainly poke at you. We should collaborate on something. Woudl be fun. Sweetcherrie, You're one of the people who really makes me miss having internet at home. I haven't forgotten you all and I won't vanish. I miss our conversations. I was beginning to feel that we coudl become quite good friends. You're sharing and trusting and fun. Like a few others you think I'm wiser than I am and I fear that over time you may notice I'm not nearly as good at being a guardian angel as I'd like to be. Thank you for making me feel wanted and thank you for standing with me. Mynx, Whenever we talk it always seems to be meaningful. I know you're busy, but you're another one of those people around here I know I can trust to get stuff done. Your ideas work, girl. Griffon, Your peaceful diplomacy is always a treasure. You never ask for the spotlight (at least at the pen) and maybe that's why things work so well when you're quietly here. Appy, Thanks for being frank and fun. You're another one I'd like to talk to more. I don't know how old you are (and don't really care) but when I'm talking to you I don't have to feel like an old pen fogie and I enjoy that. Appy and Mira, Thanks you two for volunteering for/accepting a hard job. You have my offer to help or brainstorm whenever you need it. I have confidence. Ayshela, Take care of yourself! I treasure you and I don't think there's any need to say more. To all, This pen community has meant a lot to me very often at various times in the last four plus years. Many of you have made a difference at various times sometimes a lot of difference. I can't write everyone I want to, because if I don't start editing those Grade twelve proofs I will be here till eight again today. Take care.

say one and two

Looks like fun. Gwaihir will come. Topic: Plants

sticks and stones may break my bones but words can never hurt me--some anonymous person who was either an optimist or a fool

Speaking of absences, let me note that I will be gone this monday through this sunday probably (maybe much more, maybe less) as we move and get all our utilities reconnected.

OOC: for those who know, this Myth is still a child. I dislike suggesting that stories are just for kids, but I sort of want to fool with Myth as a kid. Really young Myth was just looking for an excuse to get out of the house. Mom had had another dramatic scene with her last boyfriend last night and the house was much too loud to live in. Anyone in the way tended to get screamed at or worse and Myth hadn't lived this long by being dumb enough to be in the way. She didn't really care where she went and for a while she just roamed the streets aimlessly, but the gang on E65th were out and they weren't safe to be around, so she turned down new streets. "story telling at the pen" the sign said and it had directions. Myth shrugged and headed over. Stories could be interesting and she was bored. Maybe they'd last for long enough that it would be safe to head home afterwards...unlikely. Or better yet, if she hung out hear long enough, she could head over to her brother's work afterwards...that was better. As she looked at the pen keep, her eyes went round. Whoever owned this must be RIICH. Not the type of person who wanted her around for sure. In fact, she turned around, not without a remorseful look, rich houses had good food and maybe even something to nick, but they would never let her in. However, just as she was heading out, hungrily, she saw a pretty lady approaching. She was walking rather quickly, but when she saw Myth she stopped. "Hello dear, are you headed to our story time?" She reached out to pat Myth's arm reassuringly, but Myth had lived on the street long enough to know what an outstretched arm meant: She quickly jerked away before the lady produced her knife since clearly that's what was coming. Run to safety... but where? The lady was between her and the street. Myth turned and sped the only way she could--into the pen keep. Once inside the twisting corridors she quickly outpaced her pursuer. Now where? She dashed past a kitchen and grabbed a basket of rolls. For a while she curled into the side of a staircase and wondered what person could need this much space. A tall man passed her, but he was lookign ahead of him, so he didn't notice the urchin in the shadows. After a bit she headed on leavign only a few crumbs and an empty basket in the c orner. (two more rolls were tucked into her shirt, but she didn't leave those.) she continued on exploring for something interesting when she heard a boy asking for a story. Well, it looked like she'd come to story time after all. She slipped in the back, sure that none of the kids had seen her. In fact, she presumed she was safe from all glances until she saw the tall lady up in front smile and wink at her. "SH-t," she thought. Yet another person to throw her out. Myth decided the peculiar woman had a knife in her pocket (to cut the animal tails off and put them onto the necklace.) but really it could just as well been numerous things. Still, Myth thought she was clearly done for it and was about to break for cover again until the lady smiled. "So what kind of story would you like?" Myth almost squeaked with shock. Taht had sounded almost welcoming! Well ,maybe the lady thought she belonged here. Best to act as if she was a normal rich kid not a muddy street urchin. "Umm, a story about someone sneaky and cool!"

Gwaihir was proud of himself. This time he was going to manage to promote someone without doing anything stupid! Last time Katzaniel had advised him not to try things he was bad and this time he would follow that and everything would be perfect. So far, the decorating had gone very smoothly because he'd hired a gnome to do it all. He’d even begun a beautiful vegetarian meal for everyone. It smelled great and without a doubt they would love it. Well, what else could go wrong--well if things were disorganized that would be bad, so he wrote a quick note and stuck it in the elder's tower "promoting him, making up the party." Surprisingly enough someone understood and responded "Wonderful, have you checked that he should be promoted?" Gwaihir scratched his head. Who would know? Wiggly Cabbages might but they steadfastly refused to be involved in business. Who else was around--everyone seemed busy! He tried asking the gnome, but the gnome sputtered "You are the wackiest employer i've ever had and I don't know how you imagine I would understand your problems. This is too much interuption. Leave or I quit!" Eep! Okay, leaving that one alone. He wrote a Ozy, perhaps a loremaster would be all knowing, but when Ozymandias saw the note "do you get it?" He shook his head and threw it in the trash can. Gwaihir shook his head and started to scream for relief until his next door neighbor pounded on the wall. "That's much too much noise for noon on a weekday!" With a squeal Gwaihir leapt out the window and landed by the roses. This was where he needed to be and dead to the world, he began to meditate. Meanwhile, in the Cabaret room, the gnome had found a new problem. "Erm, I can't read whose name I should write on the banner. I only see where it says what colors everything should be and I have better fashion sense than to attend to those. Who's party is this anyway?" There was, of course, no one to answer and the gnome began to growl as it began to prepare other things. However, as the commotion grew, Pennites began to enter the Cabaret room curiously. Soon there was one question on everybody’s lips “whose party is this anyway? Other common ones included “So, why’s that banner blank?” Is someone being promoted?” “Who’s organizing the food and where is it?” “Why do I smell burning from the kitchens?” and most often “Tell me this isn’t another one of Gwahir’s parties!” Quietly a figure in black entered the scene and began to do small things (turning off the stove, putting out the fire, persuading the gnome not to quit, keeping the cook from seeing the kitchen and other minor details that should have been attended to long ago.) The gnome took a deep breath and turned to the man in black. “You, what’s your name, because you’re the only person in this party who I like!” The man nodded graciously. “Thank you and they call me Black.” “Well” the gnome said “that settles it!” He approached the banner and wrote in big sweeping letters “Congratulations to Black!” OOC: Congratulations to Black. In a small but enjoyable break of protocol, he did his quill quest before he became a quill bearer, so you’ll have to search back to find it, but it’s worth a read.

Indeed! A happy birthday!

may I just say that I"m so glad the pen has you both. And the doctor, lord yes am I glad we have the doctor!

Both!!

And, with all due respect to the original poster (and oodles of respect for the Doctor) I will have to disagree with the doctor. Perhaps this poster was truly trying to express themselves in the way normal to the pen and if so I deeply welcome them, but that doesn't mean we can't tease them in my opinion. I doubt that this is a long time lurker, because we regularly discourage political discussion here. Also, we have had similar posts of this nature here before and it is also a very valid possiblilty that the original poster is a troll. Doctor, you note that you don't come here to write usually. I highly respect that, but I bet you do come to read (as you read this post I note.) If the original poster feels like writing a political piece or commenting on one of the many that have been written here I will try to read whatever he writes. However, I also enjoy readign whatever Sweetcherrie writes and I also come to the pen partiallybecause I enjoy all the humour here. I hope that Sweetcherrie and others like her continue to write posts llike this whenever and if the pen becomes a place where we can not write clever pieces gently teasing trolls I will be truely depressed. (very minor edit for logic)

Looking around I think these things are all in options and will have to wait until our blessed yui can put us back to the way we were. (Yui, if you're reading this, tell me if there's any way I can help.) Tanny, on your table issue I can't use html either until the board is back...

I can see it now. You all still can't?

Happy Birthday indeed! (there I did beat you to it, Mynx )

Welcome back both of you! Excellent to see you.

Wow, definitely a striking piece. Very cool. I'm not so sure that I like this piece that you added. The younger recalled the dirt falling off the shell. Apparently, while preparing the other grave, the digger’s diesel-powered spades had brushed her casket. But, that had to have been over 17 years ago, he recalled The information about the spades cuttign open the coffin is useful, but it seems less poetic than the rest of the piece. I'm also not sure about the 'however' you added when talking about the youngest, a soldier but not one who'd seen death. Still, I think this piece improves drastically with each rewrite. Thank you for letting me read this.

I don't speak any of the languages, but I can confirm (that I am told) that the Norwegian-Danish connection is easier than the Swedish-Danish one.

Amusing poem and good to see you around

Happy Birthday

you got to give us elder types time--we're slow (there, permissions changed)

As he walked away from the Piazza, Gwaihir was smiling. This merited a celebration. But what was the best way to celebrate someone? Hard to say, so he stuck his head out the window and asked again. "Why, I'd sing them a song" replied the local robin. Pulling his head back in he shrugged, it was worth a try. It was a good song and he was having a bit of fun to it. Okay, so he wasn't singing it as well as Paul McCartney could, but most guys can't. However, in the next ten minutes he saw two maids and six robins pass by....all of them had cotton stuffed into their ears. Well, even goofy elves can take a hint, so maybe singing wasn't the way to go. What else did one do? After a thought he wagered that in the theme of performance he could try dancing for her. Jiggedy jig dancing to Paul wasn't too bad. Jabbedy jab, didn't that board feel a bit loose? Jigg... crash crash thump owww AAAAAAAAAAAHHHHH "WhAT are YOU doing in here! YOu! Gwaihir tried to get the plaster out of his eyes. It appeared that he was sitting on his rear in someone else's room and he hurt all over. Looking up, there was a hole in the ceililng. "umm, what? I think I fell through the ceiling, ma'am." The woman in question was very tall and very very shrill. "and you expect me to believe that? Here I am about to change my dress and before I can even start there's a man in my room. Elves do come in male and female right... you do have those parts right?" Um... yes ma'am, but I ... "I knew it! You were just trying to spy on me ...or worse... HEEEEELPPP, I'm being Attacked! Five strong young paladins rushed in, swords raised. "We have come to save you" "Is there a dragon" "I specialize in evil wizards" "I really feel I'm better at killing kobolds or newts myself." "but this is just an elf!" "HeLP anyway" she shrieked and they promptly threw Gwaihir into the corridor. "Well!" He panted as he recovered his breath. "I don't think dancing is going to work. What if I tried my hand at painting instead...in a more stable room. I know they have some paint in the basement from when they had to clean up after that vicious carnivorous plant that spit purple ink. I was so sure I could learn to talk to it too....ah well, mistakes happen. The paint should be perfect though. Painting was fun. The portrait would be a three leafed clover in bloom when finished. The door opened and at first Gwaihir started to duck, but it was a small imp who entered and he wasn't mad! Hey, looks like fun, want help? I'm a decent painter, so I bet I coudl improve that a bit." Our messy elf was affable and at first he was feeling pretty good about the help. One never could trust imps, but when a millipede crawled by it smiled and said "take care of that imp, you're trying hard, but it's making the wall look better than you." It wasn't much of a compliment, but it wasn't as if Gwaihir thought he was Van Gogh anyway. ... Then finally he noticed what the imp was doing--it had a bucket of paint of the original color and it was just following him and covering over everything. Gwaihir sighed and dipped the imp in green paint before leaving. "I guess the painting didn't go so well. Maybe I'll try cooking--Zariah never said she hated my food. He headed into the kitchen...suddenly there was a portly cook turning towards him and a frying pan sailing towards his head. "NO YOU DON'T! I remember what you did to my kitchen last time!" When he c ame to, the imp was rubbing green paint into the huge goose egg on his head and a maid was mopping up, disgust evident in her eyes (and cotton still in her ears.) "Soo, I don't think I'll be allowed to cook. Maybe carpentry?" Hands on her hips, the maid Spun around. "Don't even THInk about it. Do you know how much work you've made me? First I had to go to the store for an emergency run of cotton when every single one of your neighbors complained. Then I had to clean up a broken room that you danced a da*ned Hole in. It will take a professional to fill that hole in again. Next I had to clean up a million and two tiny green footprints off the living room floor. I don't know how you did that, but it was definitely you and now I'm cleaning the eggs off the kitchen floor, so don't EVEN think about any new....art!" The imp giggled and Gwaihir tried to swallow the lump in his throat. "okay, so I'm not very good at some things. Weel, hhow about this... Katzaniel had been sitting outside under a tree, but she looked up when the sky darkened. Suddenly her whole world was covered in falling flowers. Every manner of flower growable and a few she was pretty sure shouldn't exist fell over her. As she looked up she saw hundreds of butterflies spellign out congratulations. A few of them were still holding their flowers. Gwaihir came walking out beneath them. "Congratulations, troubador. You deserve it."

proper pen dancing (sort of like sword dancing. Everyone was impressed, but the penguin was twice as impressed, because he saw that Mira's dancing was even done penguin style. The lawyer, shrugged, frustrated and wandered off to find something else illegal. The penguin had worked hard to seem carefree when said lawyer was present, but it was a great load off his wings to see him gone. Turning to Mira he said. "I have had previous legal.....issues and could not afford to be taken to court, so I owe you a favor--anything you want done, any quest. Tell me now and I will do it." Mira smiled, surprised. "Well, you really don't have to do that, but...

Good to see you back!