The Portrait of Zool

Lady Brighid made ready to leave, retrieving her cloak and heading for the door. As Yasmina and the Swami walked her to the door the rubber chicken, still hanging in the rafters from it's earlier misadventure, dropped unseen and unheard neatly into the laid back cowl of her voluminous cloak.

"However," continued Zool, "This shadowy character was just about to take Brighid on an adventure to discern some answers." He indicated the strange lack of light next to Brighid. "We shall be following their adventures, as best we can with our magical arts. Hopefully our enemies have thought their plans through well," said Zool with a growing grin, "For I feel their task has just increased a hundred-fold, whether they realize it or not!"

"Yep, same ol' Armageddon - but as to who or what or why this time... who knows! That's what gives it the zest... Right!?"

Zool grinned. "It is - when it's done right!"

LOL! Sorry. It's just darned good to see you.

"I see. Say no more." Zool snaps his fingers, a sound that seems to penetrate every corner of the Pen, and does. Grimmael instantly appears, though he seems to be oozing more than the normal amount of slime, and is holding aloft a lit oil lantern, which he quickly lowered and extinguished. At this time Brighid made her request. Zool gave a crestfallen look. "I am so sorry. This unexpected turn of events has quite taken me by surprise. Lady Brighid, may I present Ozymandias, King of Kings, the founder of the Pen is Mightier than the Sword! Ozymandias, may I present Lady Brighid, a healer, poetess, and recent traveler to our home." Lady Brighid curtsied in a manner befitting her many accomplishements. Ozymandias bowed deeply. "Grimmael, Ozymandias has returned," said Zool, turning to his servant. "I want his rooms readied immediately. See to it yourself. I'm sure our founder has had the devil's own time on his last foray, and we'd like him to not have to worry about anything, for a few nights at least." Grimmael's eyebrows arose at the news, and more as his own eyes confirmed it. He looked at his master and nodded solidly in the affirmative. "It will be my pleasure," he said, and disappeared in a puff of Eradication magic, for old time's sake. "At your leisure Ozy," said Zool.

Are you sure?

Will have to check that out. All of it!

Zool had just given the shadow the stink eye when someone new enters the room. Zool's jaw dropped. "Holy [CENSORED]!" he said. "It can't be!" The man, thin though of such imposing demeanor as to be irresistible, replied, "It can." Zool's jaw closed with a snap, then he said, "Well, stretch me out and color me magenta.... What's the occasion??"

"I applaud your sense of adventure," said Zool, "However I am afraid I have some trepidations. Perhaps you wouldn't mind if I kept an eye on things?" "But how...?" asked Brighid, not sure how to finish the question, given the sensitive nature of his enchantment. "Not to worry Lady Brighid. I have my ways." As he said this he looked straight at the shadow. "And should any 'unfortunate' occurrences get out of control, you can be assured, there will be Hell to pay."

Wish I could hear it... Unfortunately, though the speakers do sound MUCH better there is some tweaking to be done. I have actually endeavored to build my own speakers, which isn't going so well, but means I have some cool things like a sound measurement system. I have a few 'tweaks' in mind, which I then have to test to see how they go. Perhaps in an hour or so I'll have one speaker up and running with the mods to test, and if they are staisfactory modify the second one tomorrow, and if not... I am jonesing for music!!!

The carp had started to look a little green around the gills and it's eyes protruded out even further than usual when it's mouth struck a decidedly bilious pout. Do fish ever get gas? An answer to that ancient mystery seemed imminent as the rubber chicken huffed and puffed and worked feverishly to dislodge itself from the carp's chummy gullet, aided by Rydia's shaking.On the last maraca swing as the jitterbug's poison had at last run it's course the carp's pain became too much, and with a resounding *BELLLLLLLLCH* the rubber chicken launched feet first for the rafters, where it hung after bouncing once, much thinner from it's trip down and up the esophageal expressway.All were much relieved at the development.

Across a bend careened crazy shadows, squirming from one side to the other in halting, regular steps, intruding in the dark, dank, fetid, cold, deathly still air. The sound of dripping and flow of waste water emptily filled the seemingly endless tunnels. Somewhere could be heard the insistent squeaking of an unseen mischief of rats. Finally the light pierced the corner, and it could be seen that it was Grimmael holding high an oil lantern, which shook as he moved forward with his strained gait, ponderously dragging his bad side along the narrow walkway next to the stream.He grunted with each step, his good eye staring intently into the darkness, his Cassock flaring unnaturally for his misshapen limbs, the large ring of iron keys on his hip jangling lightly. He had been walking for quite a while.He regretted having to leave Lady Brighid so abruptly, but it couldn't be helped. Over the years he had become complacent, even stagnant to a degree, as the Pen had slowly decayed around him. He had no powers, no ambition, no vision, no obvious talents, and he had receded as the Pen had receded - but then something had changed. He had no magic, but even he could sense the energies that had invaded of late. He knew something was happening, but he didn't know what - he only knew he needed to know.He had scoured the Pen looking for the source of the change. He couldn't quite put into words what that change was - he just knew something was up, and he knew he had to find the source, which had finally lead him down here, in the sewers of the Pen. He was aware of the storm howling outside, and felt oddly about that too, but he felt that wasn't a cause, per se, but a symptom...What was that?! He froze in mid-step. Grimmael had rather acute hearing, and he was certain he had heard... wailing? Arguing? He wasn't sure.Slowly he set the lamp upon the walkway, then leaned up to the slimy stone wall, slapping his ear right up against it, and he listened...Several long moments passed. Presently his good eye swiveled back to a side tunnel he had just passed. He straightened up, wiped the slime off his ear onto the shoulder of his oiled leather robe as he lifted the lamp and made back to the side tunnel, and down it.

Last one... Pink Martini - Lullaby http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=H9wzo78rNZ8

Pink Martini - Children of Piraeus

Pink Martini - Song of the Black Lizard

Pink Martini - Que Sera Sera

Back in action...

Indeed! I really REALLY hope this continues - I WANT to know what happens next!

I am currently trying to rebuild my speakers with new tweaters and crossover capacitors, so no music here today.

"Same as it ever was!" breathed Zool in time to his jerky motions. It just seemed like part of the dance. Strange forces were at work. It had finally penetrated even Zool's thick skull that something extraordinary was afoot. The Pen had been deathly quiet for so long, but now it was apparent there were profound potencies penetrating the, um, place. At that moment a stray horse wandered by, causing him to switch it up. "Gangnam Style!" he shouted, assuming a new posture and gait. How long does this stuff last??? wondered Zool desperately...

Zool's thoughts hovered over concern that Brighid's mission is successful, and at the same time the hope that nobody had been hurt, before returning his eyes to the lazily loitering jitterbug above him. "Now how did that get in here?" he wondered. "Ah well, no matter, for he knew he was completely immune to bites and weather and hunger and all manner of fleshly ills..." Before he could complete that thought the bug seemed to suddenly become aware of Zool's presence and quick as a lightning strike spiraled down to jab proboscis first in his arm. "Blast you Wicked Witch of the West!" shouted Zool as he crushed the greedily sucking jitterbug with a slap. It was of course too late - he could already feel a strange rhythmic throbbing in his feet. *To be continued*

Zool smiled widely at James, and said, "I've always felt a great kinship with the Fool, for he is sometimes called the Troubadour, as I'm sure you already know. As to what the Fool is worth to anyone else, it is odd in the tarot deck that it has no value, unlike the rest of the cards, which are all numbered. Given the symbolism depicted on the Fool one would think he was most certainly doomed, but it's significance seems to be precisely that Fate is so often inexplicably turned on her head." The painted figure shrugged, his face a picture of unassuming innocence. "One just never knows what to expect when the Fool shows up." Fake James' eyes narrowed slightly, tinged with the tiniest bit of bemusement before his former look of supreme confidence just as quickly slid back into place.

The rubber chicken gave a sharp squawk at realization of the new competition and with a great rubbery heave began rapidly rolling towards the remaining morsel. The anti-spam carp shot forward with a flick of it's tail. The rubber chicken gained momentum, rolling ponderously like a tire with low air, but faster and faster and faster. The fish moved forward with smooth powerful strokes. The rubber chicken was really moving now, then bounced from chair to table to air like a pinball off of it's bumpers, sailing up and over the patrons heads to meet the carp open beak first just as the fish raised it's head to suck in the last jitterbug with it's wide round mouth. The rubber chicken swallowed the bug. The fish swallowed the rubber chicken.

Great vid! I never got too much into the Dead, but I like what I hear. Am running around a bit tonight, but throwing a few tunes on here and there. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=z9IIn3R6_50