Peredhil

Cerulean As Cerulean moves around the room, she is aware of a chattering, scurrying noise behind her. Each time she turns around, she notices nothing more worrying that the cute Pekkle shadowing her. Nevertheless, something about that little girl's eyes just ain't right... unable to pinpoint her concern, Cerulean shrugs to herself and wonders why the atonal screaming she had heard earlier, stopped so very abruptly. Perhaps word got out that Woods was planning to sing again? She shivers at the thought, but is surprised not to have bumped into his shambling form yet. She really had expected to see him and Iuz duelling it out on the card tables. Passing by the Party Conduct Parchment, she pauses once more to consider the magnanimity of Wyvern in organizing the celebrations. As she gazes at the notice carefully, she sees written at the very bottom in minute print: 'Special waiver exists for extraordinary circus caterers bearing salamander driven bbqs and items of squawking rubber' - amended by Zoolio - changing the rules because; I can.' Making her way deeper into the bustling Casino, Cerulean is intrigued by the sheer number of half-dressed, pleading mages on their knees before Wyvern/Brute. Thinking that a quick game of something might pass the time before the rest of her guests arrive, she places herself next to her friend, thanks him for throwing such an amazing party, and challenges him to a game of Poker. Wyv fails to see the wink which passes between her and Peredhil's dove... ------------------ Cerulean Dark Mistress of the Desert Guardian of the sacred stick of celery Member of: Scarlet or Blue? - SoB - BG

Gyrfalcon Culex turned away from the corpse of HolyChaos/Culex, only to be confronted by a solid wedge of hostile mages, headed by Gyrfalcon/Wyvern, whos form blurs, then shifts until Gyrfalcon once again stands in his true form. "Culex, you don't seem to understand several points of etiquette around here. I'll give you one warning. Then I'll turn you into little mage chunks. One- Thou shalt NOT kill other mages at parties in the Conservatory! Two- Thou shalt bring a gift for the lady of honor, Cerulean! Three- Thou shalt dress up as ANOTHER mage, not thyself. You have 20 seconds to resurrect HolyChaos." Culex looked at the party-going mages surrounding him. Even if most of them were drunk, the sheer number of spells that were ready to be launched his direction would be enough to finish him, easily. Wisely, he quickly enacted a few spells and HolyChaos gasped as life returned to his body. "25 seconds. Not good, Culex.... Hand your Ion Sword to HolyChaos to replace the one you destroyed." Culex tightened his grip on the Sword. Hand over HIS Ion Sword? Not while breathe remained in his body. Gyrfalcon saw the growing tension in Culex and sighed "Fine, give HolyChaos a suitable replacement. Now." Culex glared for a minute, but the continual arcing of energy from the extended hands/paws/claws of the surrounding mages convinced him that resistence was not a wise course. With a muttered curse, Culex opened a portal and pulled out a fake Ion Sword, which he tossed down beside HolyChaos. "Good. Now remember, some sort of gift for Cerulean, and appear as another mage." Gyr said before changing back into a wyvern and winging away. HolyChaos glared at the departing Gyrfalcon and then stalked off in the opposite direction. Behind them, the illusionary mages dissipitated from around HolyChaos, who slowly got up and dusted himself off. OOC: Culex, DO NOT kill other mages during parties, got it? As HolyChaos had done nothing wrong while wearing your form, you had NO REASON to kill him.

Finnius As all this is going on, Finnius/Canid is sobering up and remembering what he forgot to tell Cerulean about Pekkle. As the last bit of his hangover wears off the blue-dressed-as-green mage rushes up to Cerulean's dais and begins to speak hurriedly. "Listen, please listen. Pekkle isn't just a little girl. She's... well, a demon. She's been hanging around lately, asking for a good home. I would have obliged myself, but I'm constantly on the move and don't really have that much to offer to a growing demon. So, I thought to myself, 'Finnius,' I thought, 'Who's the most tasteful and elegant person in Terra?' And do you know who it was, Cerulean? I think you do. So pleeeaasee, take her in. Won't you?" After this speech, the fur-covered mage collapses from air depravation and/or alchohol poisoning.

Haruchi The doors are flung open, and a gust of wind blows in, setting icy claws upon the limbs of all the nekkid and not entirely nekkid women in the hall. Orlan, Sexy sexy mage, throws his genuine imitation Vegas-era Elvis cape over his shoulder and leans with studied nonchalance against the doorway, running a comb through his immaculate and amazingly sexy hair. Orlan (in his best Barry White): Is it cold in here, or is it just me? The assembled women turn to him in unison. Orlan, knowing the potent effects his sexy sexiness has on the fairer and almost as sexy sex, braces himself for the rush. Women: "SHUT THE DOOR! WE'RE FREEZING!" Orlan shrugs with sexy indifferance and clicks his fingers. The door remains open. Orlan: *mutter* Orlan closes the doors and stands sexily, checking out the 'talent'. He sidles up to Scarlet/Tzimfemme, smiling dashingly, and leans over to whisper something in her ear. Orlan: You're one hot mama! In fact, you put a fire in my pants! Orlan finally manages to put out the flames in his hair and beats a hasty yet sexy retreat. He spies a mage looking mightily uncomfortable beneath her voluminous black robes. Something about a woman who seems to prefer nekkidness appeals to him, and he saunters over, smiling winsomely and leaning over to whisper something in her ear. Orlan (nodding at her gown): Are those real? Several minutes later, Orlan finally manages to evade the killer neck-tie by hiding in a pool filled with beer. Orlan: *hic* He somehow manages to fall out of the pool. He reaches about for something to grab a hold of and hauls himself to his feet, turning to blink sexily at an apparently terrified ent and his green-haired companion. Orlan: He he he. You two just carry on. *sexy wink* Orlan staggers sexily over toward the guest, or is that host, of honour, who appears to be deep in conversation with someone who is using words he simply cannot understand. He strikes a Travolta-esque pose, combing his sexy hair and leering. Orlan: Yo, sexy momma. Cerulean: Be right with you, Haruchi. Orlan: *mutter* Several minutes later, Cerulean turns to him with an imperious smile. Orlan wishes her a happy un-birthday, and reaches into the pockets of his SexyMage ™ pants and pulls out a long, sexy package. Silence falls across the hall as eyes swivel en masse to focus upon the package. Women: *GASP* Orlan: It's a birthday present for Cerulean! Women: *GASP!!!* Cerulean: *EEEK!* Orlan: *mutter* Just open the bloody thing, willya? Cerulean shakes her head vigourously. Orlan mutters and unwraps it himself, revealing a long, cylindrical cardboard box with 'ACME' stamped on the side. He opens the box and upends the contents on the ground. Three small pills fall out. Orlan: See! Everyone: Whew! Cerulean (thoughtfully): Pills? Orlan finishes reading the instructions. He looks around for a glass of water, fails to find one, and rushes off to the Pool. Moments later he staggers back, a goofy yet sexy smile on his face. Orlan spits a mouthful of beer upon the pills. Nearby Mages (in unison): What a waste .... The pills shimmer magically, and begin to expand. Moments later, a small cage, a handbag and a strange creature with the torso of a man and the hind quarters of a goat manifest. Orlan picks up the small cage, inside which can be seen a brightly plumed bird, and hands it to Cerulean. Bird: Squawwwwk! Polly wanna crack-up! Orlan: This is a pet parody, Cerulean. Cerulean (with a smile): Oh, how thoughtful ... I’ve always wanted a parody to call my own. Orlan picks up the handbag and passes it to Cerulean. Orlan: And this is an allegory-skin handbag. You can put anything into an allegory, you know. Once again, Cerulean smiles, opening the allegory bag and peering inside. Cerulean: It’s empty ... oh, I see, I can put my own things in there? Thankyou, once more. Orlan smiles and sexily gestures to the creature standing to one side. Orlan: And this is a satire ... you can do anything you want with a a satire, you know. Orlan winks lewdly, while Cerulean turns scarlet. Cerulean: Well, I’m quite sure I don’t know what you mean, but thankyou nonetheless. Cerulean thanks Orlan once more, and takes the gifts to add to the pile. Orlan, for his own part, starts working the room, moving to woman after woman. Orlan: Are you a goddess? Cause I just want to fall to my knees before you... ZAP Orlan: You must be made of chocolate, cos I bet you’d melt ... CRACK Orlan: You remind me of this nymph I used to ... KAPOW Orlan, his clothes smouldering, his face scratched, bruised and covered in ash, stands despondantly in one corner, gazing about like a hunted animal. He frowns and takes a deep breath, shouting at the top of his lungs .. Orlan: You know you all really want me!!! I’m a SEXXXY SEXYYYYY MAAAAANNNN! The silence lasts about 2 nanoseconds, and then the conversations and other exploits continue as normal. Orlan mutters, turning toward the door. As he does, he catches his reflection in a polished mirror, and studies himself. Orlan: Yeah, baby, I am sexy! yeah baby, yeah! Overcome by his own sexiness, Orlan takes a furtive look around the room, and sneaks off to find somewhere to be alone with himself ... OOC: I’m still in exile from the UBB, but this is a special occassion... and Orlan, if you read this and wonder, I think Haruchi definitely comes out of this much worse than you ------------------ Owner of Unique Item "The Hat of Obscurity" aka "That guy I don't know" Knight General of the Giant Nut Member of AoA Members of Scholar's Division, Seekers of Babylon Not particularly sexy man

Culex BOOM! A giant spider burst through. Caustic venom drips from its wicked fangs. Covered with purple and black fur, it wiggles with its eight legs up to HolyChaos. The 15 metre spider towers over HolyChaos. Alkaline venom drops on HolyChaos' hand, corroding it and digesting it. HolyChaos screams in pain as he sees his right hand dissolved by the crude green acid. He takes out his imitation of the ion-blade and slashes at the arachnid with his left hand. Unfortunately, Culex, who is in spider morph, is immuned to the ion-charged electricity. Culex sinks his venomous fangs into HolyChaos' head. Sucking up his brain. (Hmm...Why am I suddenly acting as a mind ripper?) Culex seems to relish the brain and the lifeless HolyChaos drops to the ground dead. The spider then sprays alkaline acid on the fake ion-blade. And dissolves it totally. Only the real ion-blade is indestructible! Culex morphs back to his original shape. In a dark blue cloak. Mystic and enigmatic... -Culex the Shapeshifter ------------------ Culex The Shapeshifter Owner of the +12 Ion-Charged Blade People can die by FOoD poisoning! Dominions don't seem to stay dead! -Miracle The water that hinders us shall one day be walked on. -Nature's Lore It takes a single spark just to devastate an entire forest. -Inferno Kicking a stone in anger will only hurt your foot. Revenge does not heal. -Contract of Soul Geld, yes geld! Thats what my enemies have sent! Geld! Geld! Everywhere, yet not a penny to be spent. -Fool's Gold Those who think they know everything are annoying to those who do. *grins*

Wyvern After the rubble from the "pillar disaster" is cleared and the wounded have been escorted to the nearest hospital facilities, Wyvern sits in a chair located at the far end of the gambling table. Circling him are a number of mages, eager to place the majority of their incomes on a few simple dice rolls and hands of cards. Wyvern grins at the thought of making a killing off the popular Terrian card game known as "Dragons and Skulls". You see, Wyvern had secretly prepared for this occasion in his constant quest to make more geld. He had discretely trained Peredhils delivery dove to chirp in different ways depending on the cards found in his opponents hand. This way, there was no way Wyvern could lose! It was cheating, that was true... but if you wanted to make geld in this cruel world, there was no other way then to cheat. Wyvern sits back and glares eagerly at the mages circling him. "Very well... who wants to challenge the undefeatable Wyvern first?" One mage laughs and stands up. "I, Fenurulan the Great Gambler, shall end you're egoistic thoughts of victory!" With that, Fenurulan wips out a deck of playing cards and shuffles them in a blink and a flash of colours. The other mages circling Fenurulan stare in awe... this man is obviously a professional gambler. Wyvern simply grins evily at this display of talent. 5 minutes pass, and Fenurulan is emotionaly struck by his first loss. He demands a rematch, and Wyvern accepts. After 10 more games, Fenurulan is left sobbing on the floor, stripped naked except for his smily face boxer shorts. "*sob* Impossible *sob* I'm *sniffle* a Great Gambler..." Wyvern glares down angrily at Fenurulan and laughs coldly. "You mean you WERE a great gambler! I see that you've lost everything but your boxers and you still need to pay me for that last game. Here (Wyvern hands Fenurulan a bow and wrapping paper) wrap yourself up in this and throw yourself at the bottom of Ceruleans pile of gifts. You're HERS now!" Sobbing and ashamed, Fenurulan rushes away from the table, doing as Wyvern had ordered. Wyvern grins in glee to himself. This is GREAT! Nobody expected he was cheating, and he had already made a killing off only that one mage! He looks towards the other mages circling him. "Alright. Who's next...?" An hour and thirty minutes later... Wyvern laughs to himself as his contender loses YET ANOTHER game. Wyv is now puffing on an enormous cigar that portrudes from his mouth like a second toungue. The bag of the different items and geld that he has won grows dangerously large behind him. Two beautifull women, dressed in bunny outfits, serve Wyvern drinks and smother him with affection. The mage that has just lost his 19th game to Wyvern has time to scream "NOOOOOOOOOOOO!" before realizing he has lost all of his savings and fainting to the ground. Wyvern grunts to himself, muttering "Cheap-skate, he still owes me 3 geld...". The large circle of gamblers that had once surrounded Wyvern had become nothing more then a bunch of naked beggars, strewn across the floor. As Wyvern counts his most recent profit, a gambler he had defeated crawls across the floor and begs Wyvern for the prosthetic leg he lost to him in gambling. Wyvern smiles and says "Of course you can have your leg. Give it to him Buba!" With that, the enormous ogre wips the prosthetic leg out of Wyverns bag of wins and begins ruthlessly hitting the beggar over the head with it. Then, Buba picks up the man and throws him out the doors of the party. After he has finished, Buba places the prosthetic leg back in Wyverns bag of wins. "Geeze! These Terrian gamblers are such cheap-skates! They lose and then they expect me to give back there profits?! Winners keepers losers weepers, isn't that right Buba?" Buba grunts. Wyvern laughs triumphantly to himself, and awaits his next foolish challenger... ------------------ Wyvern ...almost a dragon. Proud Owner of the Decanter of Endless Booze. Diplomat and representitive of Succubi or Bust (S.o.B )-BG Unofficial member of the Mr. Bunny fan club. "GIVE ME A CARROT GODDAMMIT!" -Mr. Bunny

Cerulean Having recovered from her initial shock, Cerulean begins to relax into the bawdy good-naturedness of the party atmosphere. She is entirely overwhelmed by the growing gift-mountain, and plans to speak her thanks to the guests, individually, in a short while. As she scans the room, a flickering movement overhead captures her attention. She is enchanted to observe a dove descend in decreasing circles to settle softly upon her hand. The dove carries a Birthday card which she accepts graciously. Cerulean turns over the envelope in her hands. She examines the blue seal and makes out the words Lady Cerulean formed in Elven Runes across the front. Smiling, she recognizes the touch of her esteemed Guildmate Peredhil, and withdraws the Birthday card from within. Inside the card, in faintly glowing blue script is the following poem, which she reads aloud to her friends... Lady Cerulean, Lady Blue, A merry Un-Birthday Wish to you. Demure exterior covers loyal heart- Faithful ally who does her part. Incredible Scholar, such an SoB! Phantasm lady, take my plea, May you continue to grow and thrive, May your Mages always stay alive, May your barriers turn each attack, May your Counter pillage and sack, May your Concentration never fail, Because next to you, all others pale! At your party as you drink your fill Know you’ve the thoughts of Peredhil, A merry Un-Birthday Wish to you: Lady Cerulean, Lady Blue Saddened that Peredhil himself could not attend the party, yet delighted that he took the trouble to send the poem in his stead, Cerulean stands and begins to mingle with her guests. OOC -- Peredhil, that was a lovely thought. Thank you ------------------ Cerulean Dark Mistress of the Desert Guardian of the sacred stick of celery Seekers of Babylon - Scholars Division BG

Azonalanthious A large and very fluffy pink weasel saunters over to the bar and orders a extra-large mug of Ole' Peculiar, immediately downing it. ------------------ Azonalanthious of Clan Dragonspear High Lord Bladesinger of Clan Dragonspear The management takes not responability for it's spelling abilities or lack thereof. Chief High Weasel of the Guild of Fluffy Pink Weasels

Jerry OOC: Well here I am Jerry entered the mega party, proud of his Wyvern costume. However, he quickly realised someone else was already dressed as Wyvern. "Dam* it! I knew someone would steal MY idea! Well time for plan B. Jerry leaves the party and returns a little later, impersonnating a vampire (Black). Now I'm ready to party! ------------------ You know what they say: What goes up... is higher than it was before. I might be a newbie, but I'm not stupid. It's better to be rich & in good health than poor & sick. I thought I was undecided, but I'm not sure.

Zool All right Kendricke, how did you get the big P's password? ------------------ Zool Eradication Mage Bard of Terra Doing it because; I can. The Pen is Mightier than the Sword - BH, Elder. The Brotherhood - BG, Guilty by association. Wondering if he should join Sort of Bad (S.o.B.) - BG Unofficial member of the Mr. Bunny fan club. "GIVE ME YOUR FOOT GODDAMMIT!" -Mr. Bunny

Peredhil M'Lady, Certainly you could have chosen better phraseology. Must every thread I psuedo-appear in become a flame war? I refuse to dignify your juvenile comments with rebuttal. However, while I'm not speaking to you, I will point out to the forum of Public Opinion, (and Pubic Opinion in the On-Stage Entertainer's case) (Speaking only in defense,) That the usage of the word 'favoring' by Merriam-Websters's Collegiate Dictionary Tenth Edition and International Terran Law clearly states in its fourth meaning: and you resemble that young lady only superficially. Furthermore, in my defensive nonutterance not directed to you although I quote you, the interregnum between the Fifth and Sixth Dynasties of the History of the Intramural Intercourse Debate Team, of which I am also President (I bear the onerous duties willingly with Honour (although I'm not one to complain)), we determined that the proper grammatical would be either "she points to those pillars" or "she points to that pillar or "she points to them there pillars (in the common venacular, not (as you would have it): By this time, them there pillars have exploded, transforming the creamy skin of the noble lad into something more closely resembling a porcupine. Although his lips continue to move as he plucks the wooden slivers from his flesh, his words are submerged in the Atonal Screaming of the Ent. As a very brief aside, the Personage In Question (to whom I'm NOT condescending to reply,) has seen fit to edit her message to remove the questionable material. Fortunately, the IIDT, while not caring the least what anyone else thinks because our way is good enough for us, keeps extensive records and copies of the original writings of all the people about whom we don't care, which originals you will find quoted above, not that this matters to the IIDT in the least. 'Sides, am too an Ascendant mage, *finishes removing slivers, casts Platinum Hand of Healing, and sticks out a healthy pink brushed-before-the-party tongue* so there!

Arawn In the room comes a man wearing a plaid jacket, checkered pants, cream colored platform shoes, and a REALLY bad toupee. He flashes a smile around the room and approaches Wyvern/Brute, "Brute! How's it been, haven't seen you in while!"The man grabs Wyvern's claw/hand and shakes it, Wyvern/brute is given a sharp shock from the joy buzzer. "Ain't it a gas!?" He then puts his arm around him, bringing him close, "Whoa! You've gotten bigger! The man comments, Wyvern/Bute swears he hears the toupee "meow" the man is still talking, not allowing him a second to comment "I've been thinking about this little thing you're having with Wyvern, and quite frankly I think you're the man to back.And the best way to get your side of the story out is a movie!" "But I'm...." A wooden chicken pops out of the man's suit a box in it's mouth, Wyvern/Brute can see the strings. "Okay, you can give the gift, but remember to tell her it's from both of us!" The man yells after the bird. The man turns back to Wyvern/Brute "Between you and me, you should have left me the Decantor." j/k Wyvern

Tzimfemme and Rydia Rydia-the-Birdman wanders wall-eyed and grinning through the ruckus, pausing to rig the roulette wheel and label it "Roulette Beta". Spying Woods tucked away in the corner, she remembers one of the legendary comments and homes in on his lonely table with protruding tongue. As the half-naked and thoroughly furious BelZpock is being tethered to the stage, Rose-Zpock applies a bit of creativity and Obfuscate, wholly finishing her disguise. She swaggers up to Pere-dricke's table and sits down, then remembers and doesn't sit quite so primly. A few silver coins drop onto the table, and unattached females loitering around a nearby pillar swarm over with shining eyes. Pere-dricke looks up from his note cards and clears his throat. "I don't think that's very honourable behavior," he remarks, as one woman climbs into his companion's lap and bares her neck. "Certainly it is--I'm favoring them. I calculate that something is going to happen to that," she points to the pillar, "right. . .about. . ." "Oooooooh," Rydia drools at Woods, "Syrup." ". . .now." A treant's falsetto scream of abject terror rings throughout the crowded hall, shattering lesser wooden items and badly damaging all of them. Splinters shower out from the quivering support pillars. The women shriek and huddle behind the 'dominions'. "Don't worry!" Rose-Zpock chides the women, "he has ringed us around with holy." "No, I haven't," Pere-dricke whispers urgently, watching the splinters fly ever closer. "I'm not really a white mage. Cast Flame Shield, quick!" "I'm nether." Everyone scrambles to dive underneath the table. ------------------ Tzimfemme (the naked); "Deleting nothing between maiden and mage" Rydia adorned with pearls; Owner of the Anti-Spam Carp Minta Rose, sunshine and moonlight; Calculus for the Masses!, Server Guilded Proprietress of Happy Hentai Wholesale, Angels of Apocalypse, Ager Guilded Constant Reader and Moderator, General Assembly and Ager Guilded

Tzimfemme and Rydia Minta-Nim finally notices the racket and cries of "Not the Nimball!" from the front and immediately bounces towards the door. However, the entire problem seems to have been sorted out already. She beams at the big fuzzy thing ranting at all and sundry. "Wanna lollipop?" she asks, shoving the large striped confection into Azonalanthious's mouth without waiting for a reply. ------------------ Tzimfemme (the naked); "Deleting nothing between maiden and mage" Rydia adorned with pearls; Owner of the Anti-Spam Carp Minta Rose, sunshine and moonlight; Calculus for the Masses!, Server Guilded Proprietress of Happy Hentai Wholesale, Angels of Apocalypse, Ager Guilded Constant Reader and Moderator, General Assembly and Ager Guilded

~O~ A slender man in dark clothing enters the room. Beneath his hood, his face has a distinctly glassy appearance. In fact, he seems to have a head made of a crystal ball. Apparently, his head and his body have some misunderstandings, for the head keeps trying to fly over obstacles while the body wants to walk around. After much effort and a little practice, they begin to get their coordination down. "I decided that nothing could be more appropriate than to impost THE LEGENDARY IMPOSTER. Have you ever heard my Lumpenproletariate immitation? It's to die for!"

Azonalanthious In a shimmer of light, Azon shifts from Mr. Bunny form back to his normal self (still in the arms of his date...) "Fine. I thought that a bunch of intelligent mages could handle a fake Nimball, since it had the fact that it was just a fake written on it. However, it appears that I was wrong." "I also won't offend the good Knight by taking Mr. Bunny's form." Azon bows to Knight and continues. "Well... not really a mage, but it works..." Azonalanthious shimmers once again, takeing the form of Weasel #17 of the Fluffy Pink Weasels. ------------------ Azonalanthious of Clan Dragonspear High Lord Bladesinger of Clan Dragonspear The management takes not responability for it's spelling abilities or lack thereof. Chief High Weasel of the Guild of Fluffy Pink Weasels

Gyrfalcon Gyrfalcon/Wyvern was faster then Wyvern/Brute in this case, hissing out a spell as fast as he could form the words. The air around Azon/Nimball ™ sparkled, and the Nimball seemed to waver from heat distortion.... the next second, Azon/Nimball had become Azon/Mr. Bunny, still nestled in the arms of his date. This, of course, led to a new round of problems.... "How dare you profane against Mr. Bunny by changing someone to look like him!" Knight cried out in horror. "Would you rather suffer multiple broken bones and contusions?" Gyrfalcon asked. Knight spent a few moments contemplating what happens around Nimballs, and decides that despite the insult to Mr. Bunny, it would have to pass... unless Knight could convince Azon to change into something else. Which left the FOoD Fight for Wyvern/Brute to deal with.

Mindspawn OOC: Tzimfemme, talar du verkligen svenska? IC: Tyrion-Mindspawn, realizing the danger inherent in the present situation, quickly gates himself over next to Brute-Wyvern with a discrete flash of light, rather than opting for something more ostentatious and in-chararacter, like travelling by volcano. (Of course, the initiated reader will already have noted that volcano travelling isn't really well suited for short distances, and definitely not for indoor environments.) "Quickly Wyvern, do something before this whole party turns into one of those ghastly Nimball™ carnages!" In the heat of the moment, Tyrion-Mindspawn completely forgets to call Wyvern Brute. Luckily, rather than wasting time on pointing this out, Wyvern immediately snaps out of his shell-shocked state of mind, and gets on the case... ------------------ Seekers of Babylon (SoB) - BG Order of the Lily Embraced by the darkness, breathing it in.

Holy Chaos HolyChaos wanders around, dressed as Culex, and swinging a +12 ion-charged sword of light. He decided he had to stay in character and grabbed the nearest bowl of fruit. Hurling it up in the air, he raised his sword and yelled "FOoD FIGHT!!!" ------------------ - HolyChaos - Maro-Necromancer of Terra - Blessing be upon you, and may you live and die in peace - Proud MODERATOR of the Celtic Warrior boards HolyChaos@Hotmail.com Ascendant Guide Nether Guide

Azonalantious Outside the door of the hall, Azonalanthious pauses to take a deep breath and comments to his summoned date. "I've head of Wyv's parties, but this will be my first. I hope my costume goes over well... It is going to be a little dangerous walking in there like this..." Azonalanthious mutters a few mystic words and there is a flash of blue light. His body begin to twist and shift... A few minutes later, his date carries him into the hall, pausing in the entryway so everyone can get a great view of Azonalanthious costume as he lies there in her hands. Heads turn, eyes focus. It takes a fraction of a second for everyone to fully register what it is they are actually seeing. For, there in Azon's date's hands, lies something with the words "this is just a costume" written in large glowing green letters across its side. There, in her hands, lies a Nimball™.

Finnius Alas, that was not to be so, as a slightly inebriated blue wolf rushed up to Cerulean and half-led, half-pulled her over to a large box sitting in possibly the only unoccupied corner. He jumped up on two legs and grabbed a wine glass, which he began beating mercilessly with a spoon. Once he had gotten the attention of the greater part of the assembled partygoers, he yelled this: "Look evr'body, i's Cerulle... Cerulll... i's HER!! Le's sing happi unbirt'ay!!" The resulting cacophony should never be put into words, but let it suffice to say it sounded nothing like "Happy Unbirthday," and ended with the words "Monkey-like lizard." At this point, Finnid opened the large box and hopped in. After several seconds, he came back out with a beautiful and completely tasteful necklace. It was a thin silver chain wth a gold-inlaid heart set into a saphire pendant. "Curlleena, would you put th't on, pleesh?" Cerulean, being the center of attention, really has no choice but to oblige. As she does, what appears to be a ten-year old girl in a red-trimmed grey kimono jumps out of the box and gives her a large hug. "Hi," she says, "I'm Pekkle, and I'm your birthday present. Oh, it's not your birthday? OK, unbirthday present then." The blue wolf mage is grinning like a madman, and "aawwww..." can be heard from just about everyone. Cerulean is turning a lovely shade of crimson, and Finnius is beginning to wonder if he forgot to say something important about Pekkle.

Peredhil The young lad sat drinking a light chardonnay and wearing a dark frown. This was NOT the quiet affair to which he'd thought he was coming. He had a momentary frisson that this might be a gaudy harbringer of Las Vegas. An offer of alliance from the Shasta Rose Society of Redding California lay unopened on the table with the words "Possible Ice Bot?" scrawled in Silver ink across the front. Occasionally he reviewed index cards with labels such as Einstein's General theory of Honor, an unfinished essay, Horticulture, Roses, and You, Was Spartacus Caesar's Stalking Horse?, and 1001 Samuel Clemen's quotations. Ever he scanned for the Dove he'd sent ahead. He hoped that he'd not have to leave before it arrived. The 'Dominions' were throwing dice, drinking Birra Messina Doppio Malto, and watching Minta Rose's other half ricochet about the room with appreciative smiles. This was NOT the quiet affair which they thought they'd be enduring. Lady Cerulean walked in the door, dressed in an elegant evening gown. The youth half-rose to greet her, then froze at the look of horror on her face. Sinking back in his chair, he watched the Brutish Wyvern lead her unresisting form away. Perhaps if he pretended to not notice her embarassment, no one else would either. ------------------ Elrond Peredhil, 31 Bard of Terra A Polite Mage The Pen is Mightier than the Sword-BH Seekers of Babylon, Order of Scholars-BG ~Searching for Quality, not Quantity, in posting~ ~Member of Nekkid Mages #1 Fanclub and Worshippers~

Cerulean Cerulean has been waiting for Scarlett to collect her all evening. Irritatingly, Harpy's phone appears to have been switched off, and there is a limit to how far one can stretch the term fashionably late. With this in mind, Cerulean decides to make her own way to the party. Mindful of her friend's advice, she has eschewed her usually over-formal attire, and wears a simple dress of midnight silk. The woman smiles inwardly as she contemplates the delights of the evening ahead, and hurries forward. Approaching the venue, she is surprised at the racket within. The building is literally pulsating. Nervously she double checks the address. Surely this can't be the right place? She clearly recalls the arrangements for this evening made earlier that day with Harpy. Nevertheless, she draws a deep breath and enters her quietly elegant soiree... Cerulean stands at the top of the staircase frozen mid-step. The thunderous throb of bass resonates through the hall. She sees a stage at the furthest end of the room outlined in cobalt blue neon. To the left, a rotating Casino spins and clacks with the whirr of roulette tables and eagerly slung poker chips. Tearing her gaze right, she sees a corridor leading off to a swimming pool of booze complete with white-knuckle rides. Multi-coloured strobes dance and flash lending a staccato surreality to the movements of the guests below. The lumbering approach of an ogre does little to reassure her - and as he leans in menacingly asking to see her 'gift' - Cerulean's mouth, highlighted momentarily by the dazzling lights, defines a perfectly shaped O. ------------------ Cerulean Dark Mistress of the Desert Guardian of the sacred stick of celery Seekers of Babylon - Scholars Division BG

Finnius OOC: I would like to point out that I did remember Cerulean's present. And what a gift it is! And now, for a little self-parody. BIC: Gyr-Wyvern, Brute-Wyvern, and the psuedo-mob are crowded around a table tossing dice. Presents are piled up to the ceiling, alchohol flows freely, but Cerulean still hasn't showed. In the corner, a furry four-legged dwarf and "Culex" are laughing and pointing at just about everything. The false-fur-covered, bluish-purple, having-trouble-walking-on-four-legs mage watches with interest. These creatures should not be allowed in the same room together. There is already a line going around the block of masked mages with boxes. Could things get any sillier? Oh yes. And they will. Soon. Very soon.

Tyrion OOC: Mindspawn, you rule! I like the miniature oil flask for indoor use too... IC: Tyrion, carefully disguised as gas tank, couldn't stop himself from hearing about newbies to flame. He then walks up to HolyChaos and says : "Newbies to flame? But I am right here! It's me, Gas Tank!" But right after that sentences, he runs away with an awkward look on his face. 10 minutes later, he comes back with a medium size box he puts with the others. ------------------ -Elite Warrior of the Superstars of Bowling (S.o.B.) (Blitz Guild) -FOoD member, trusted helper for lumpenproletariat (Beta)