Canid

Bah! What rot! This is more a self-confidence test that anything else. Knowling thyself is not to know others.... and contentment with my own mind does not mean I am particularly good at gauging or communicating with others. Any emotional IQ test that gives me more than 65% is... well... you know. Overall results 88 Your Emotional IQ is excellent – much higher than average in fact. This means that for the most part, you are able to express your feelings clearly in appropriate situations. You are optimistic and positive, and adapt well to altering circumstances. You are comfortable with yourself, and you know and appreciate your talents and strong points as well as your weaknesses. You are able to motivate yourself, and find the energy and the strength necessary to complete what you need to do to reach your goals. You are one of the resilient people who bounce back after major drawbacks, survive hardship without bitterness, and still manage to empathize with others. These skills will certainly bring you long-term benefits such as stronger relationships, better health and personal happiness.

"Garden Gnomes?!" The voice seems to be coming from beneath the earth, muffled by 20 pounds of dirt and two worms. There is the sound of some digging and a conversation becomes increasingly audible. "...ky but you'll be declared a wiener if you don't get them a present." "Tacky is almost an understatement. I swear I can smell plastic..." A nose thrusts itself out of the turf next to Flamingo Mack, who tries to distance himself from the growing hole in the ground, but twangs back into place, held fast by his wire stake. "Definitely plastic. Why do they have to be plastic?" Flamingo Mack crosses his feathered arms, and contorts his rosy smiling beak into as close a thing to resentment as he can manage. Canid hauls herself from the earth, followed closely by a beset upon looking Prospero, the very image of a shot messenger. The two wolves shake in unison, sending bits of grit flying at the faces of several onlooking, scowling garden gnomes. "I won't do it! I will not give presents to plastic garden gnomes!" A nearby cement gnome, painted in somewhat questionable tones of white and purple crosses his arms. "We're not all plastic you know." Canid glares at the gnomes. The gnomes glare at Canid. Prospero nudges two unearthed worms back into the newly vacated hole. Canid suddenly switches to a bright smile. One eye twinkles slightly. "Right. You things need a new friend." Some of the brighter gnomes look slightly worried. The wolf trots around the garden, nose to the ground until she finds a smallish boulder. In front of it she sits and produces hammer and chisel. She holds these up rather awkwardly to the rock, paws slipping repeatedly on the chisel. A yip summons Prospero back to her side, who hesitatingly assists with the wielding of the tools, and flecks begin to be knocked from its surface. The gnomes watch with some interest and some horror as a gnome unlike any other takes shape. It has a rather bull like head, muscular arms and fingers rather than toes on its bare feet. Halfway through its carving it takes the hammer and chisel from the two wolves and finishes the rest of itself off. The completed creature is somewhat gruesome, but definitely a gnome. Canid nods to it. It nods to Canid. The Anti-Gnome pockets the hammer and twirls its chisel meaningfully.

First of all, I am working at Carlton Cards right now, and Valentines day is being rubbed in my face in all its commercial glory. I don't like sappiness, I hate pink and I have a taste for nice toys - Valentines toys are without a doubt the most appaulingly horrid, shapeless and tacky things on earth. No other holliday quite matches it when it comes to the ratio of cheap, ugly toys to nice ones. That said, I liked getting candy in my cards when I was little (though admittedly, my liking of the cinnamon hearts and little message hearts was marginal at best, the only ones I really enjoyed were the chocolates). I only wrote a few cards each year, as my mother was of the opinion that it was silly to send cards to people I didn't count as friends, which I never really disagreed with (though I do vaguely recall that I was quite... concious of the fact that the candies I was eating were given to me by people who hadn't even gotten a card from myself). The sweets were all it meant to me then, and it means little more to me now. Valentines day is a holiday far couples, and the insanity of sending valentines cards and necklaces and whoo-haw flying about to your cousins, nieces and nephews hits me almost as hard as ANYONE sending a card to somebody on Halloween (pet peeves anyone?) Later on, when I find a *someone*... it might be an excuse for a dinner out.... but I am not a sentimental enough person to ever want to make anything more of the holiday.

...and I'm not arguing against minority governments.... it is a great way to run a country. I don't like the way non-confidence works, it doesn't support that minority system that both of us seem to like.

I wonder how often that actually happens... In any case, I'm not saying 15 major parties is likely to happen (though in 300 years, who knows how our parliament will be arranged), only that the system we have allows for it. Four parties on the other hand is happening now. What if it's another minority(as seems likely)? Back to the polls in 18 months? 24 if we're really lucky? ...and then it's election time again and the money will roll out left, right and centre (har har dee har) so the ballance of power can undergo another minor, or major re-shuffle and HOPEFULLY achieve a majority that time around so our government will "work" again. About keeping the media around elections uncluttlered, it should be noted that the Green party IS actually getting federal funding. Over 1 million dollars a year. A new system of party funding was introduced as of the last election, granting $1.75 per vote per year to any party recieving over two percent of the national vote: the Green Party recieved 4.3. In the Liberal's defense, I don't think they actually have anything new to fix or sort out; nothing at least that they haven't had for the past few decades. They have a less certain leadership than they did (Jean Chrétien was a good guy), but other than that they are essentially the same party. The sponsorship scandal was appauling, yes, but it is a big party and these things happen. I am positive that if you look into Conservative history you'll find equally outrageous atrocities (though none so publicised). As long as it is dealt with, I am not worried. The Conservatives on the other hand are not the traditional Conservatives of Canadian history, it is a merger of the Alliance and the Reform parties. It is a party of pollitical and moral extremes, many of which are worrying. For the purposes of this election, they are trying to appear moderate; do you think they actually are?

If non-confidence were the only way to resolve the situation, you'd be right; but there's more than one way to skin a cat. Just like regional voting (I don't actually know the official name) is not the only electoral system (I for one think proportional representation would be nice). Non-confidence, in essence means that the government isn't happy with the way we voted and wants us to try again since they can't get along with eachother in their current numbers. We are a multi-party system, set up to take an infinate number of parties - if we wanted to, we could have a different one for each riding. Yet we have combined this with a pollicy practical only if a minority happens the minority of times. We may have fifteen parties volleying for power on the grand scale one day, and we need to have a system that will work if they all get an even chunk of parliament.

I have a bad habit of being at my most active when I should be going to bed. In the great, anthem-writing tradition of Francis Scott Key (*cough* Hooray for direct descendants. Honour Me, ALL OF YOU! Mua-ha-ha-ha-ha!) and in celebration of this utterly frivolous Federal Election, I issue to you a challenge. I will of course be taking part, but all in good time. I challenge you to re-write our (that is to say Canada's) National Anthem. You may of course re-write your own as well, but Canada, I think, really needs a better one. Ours is sucky* (I'm sorry)... it lacks substance, imagery for one (apart from someone standing there looking vaguely patriotic), metaphors, dare I say entertaining poetic devices? I present you with our current anthem: O Canada! Our home and native land! True patriot love in all thy sons command. With glowing hearts we see thee rise, The True North strong and free! From far and wide, O Canada, we stand on guard for thee. God keep our land glorious and free! O Canada, we stand on guard for thee. O Canada, we stand on guard for thee. There, now make a new one. *I hereby present a definition for the word "sucky" as used above: devoid of anything but emotion-related content; sappy/soppy; unwilling to cause anyone offence. Now, for the second part of this thread, and the predominant reason I made it, political discussion. I greatly ENCOURAGE this, independent of anthem entries. There was a thread opened up for the 2004 election that I thought yielded some most interesting discussion. The vote for this one is today, and as no-one has started a thread yet, I can't resist it. Just to get us started, I know it surprised a number of you in #thepen chatroom the other day to discover that a minority government in Canada can fall simply by them not being able to pass a bill... if a motion of "non-confidence" is attached to what the Members of Parliament are voting for, a new Federal election is called as a result of a negative outcome. The average minority government in Canada lasts only 18 months (almost exactly the length of this one). "Non-confidence" is there (I believe) as a safe-guard against government grinding to a standstill and not being able to pass anything (aka get anything done) but considering the expense of elections, this is an obviously flawed system. Amidst the excitement of a new election and a chance for the Green Party (whom I would like to see recognized for their merits) to actually elect an MP (it could happen!!! ...albeit not where I live) there has been that cold hard fact sitting there, staring at us, that absolutely nothing has changed since the last time, and millions upon millions of dollars are being spent because the balance of power wants a little more.

Busy beavers build barriers.

I am inclined to agree with reverie here in that badges would be somewhat clutterfull and unnessesary. That said, I also think that icons might not be a bad idea if they were reasonably unobtrusive. This would be the minimallist version again - no words, and I would really rather see transparent backgrounds instead of coloured ones in either case, as it makes them blend in better. All of the options at the top by the way are hard for *me* to read in the Guild Leader bar, as my screen, even at it's brightest is very dark

The Human Face Humans, along with sheep and numerous other social animals are largely dependant on sight to recognize each other. We in fact have the most complex and variable set of facial muscles of any animal*. We each have a database of faces stored in our memories of hundreds of individuals; some we recall in connection to a single meeting or event, others yield more complex emotional reactions. The science behind this highly developed social skill was discussed in a mediocre documentary made a few years ago called "The Human Face". It was done in four parts and hosted by John Cleese, and it had its moments. Our brains process each face we see through two regions: one to identify the features of the face and the other to tell us what to think of it - to give us an emotional reaction. We were presented with a single case that made one of these steps quite clear. A man had received an injury to the head. Not fatal and apparently not disabling. When his family came to see him, he recognized what they looked like. He knew his mother looked like his mother, his sister like his sister and his daughter like his daughter, but he did not think it was them. The connection between those two parts of his brain had been cut, he recognized the faces, but felt nothing. If you don't feel love for your mother, if that emotional history is not called up by the sight of her, how could it possibly be her? He thought they were impostors. Each and every one of them. It didn't make sense, he didn't know why or how but he could not believe it was the same people without the accompanying emotions. In the final part of "The Human Face" John Cleese walked around a town where he felt at home. He went into the local grocer's and the man knew him as a long time acquaintance. He ended the program* with a short discussion and complaint about the "familiarity" with which the public meets and treats its celebrities. It is a common enough complaint. If over half the population of a country think they know you, it is hard to leave your house without facing an unnatural and in some ways disturbing social situation. He presented it as having no cause, other than a cultural mania. Looking at the matter with fresh documentary driven insight, that struck me as wrong. A little bit unfair too, but mostly just wrong. I hate celebrity magazines. Most of the time if people start talking about so-and-so's latest romantic development I groan and express my disgust with my wonderfully versatile and dynamic face. I find star-mania extremely distasteful and moreover uninteresting. I will admit though, that if I saw Bruce Willis walking down the street I would, involuntarily become exited. Although in fact I know less about his character than I do the social life of ants (where my knowledge is moderate) the same feelings would be stirred upon sight as would if I had just bumped into a friend I hadn't seen in a long time. Why? The answer has quite a bit to do with how we remember people, and with our own social evolution. Only very recently have humans lived in such massive numbers that it is impossible to know everyone in your community. We evolved where simply being familiar with a face meant that you knew that person, that they were, unless previous experience proved otherwise, trustworthy. Knowing the face meant knowing and having to coexist with that person daily. But that doesn't cover the whole question, why does seeing a movie star induce such a strong emotional reaction in most people - more than could be accounted for by familiarity, or a "tribal leader" mentality... We remember faces through two main facilities according to "The Human Face": physical features and emotional association. We become familiar with the faces of "stars" through movies and music... and both mediums are designed to take us on an emotional ride. Dark music, sad music, lilting happy sounds and provocative issues, romances, comedies, tragedies "studies" of human nature, wars, disasters, political and religious stories. The fun of experiencing them is not just an intellectual treat but the fact that they make us happy or sad or afraid, or empathise with the character's feelings of love or excitement or sorrow... and we associate the entire experience with the individual actors. If you come face to face with the face you were watching while you experienced this multitude of emotions, there is an involuntary surfacing of those fictional "experiences". The extent to which people hound the stars is idiotic, obsessive and wrong. But to pass by them and in the privacy of your mind react as you would to a stranger is next to impossible.

I am all for intelligent debate, it is often educational, interesting and worth reading, BUT it also tends to get very repetetive, thus with ease of reading in mind, I ask that any topics you think warrant further discussion should be re-opened in the cabaret room with a link to this thread, rather than extended herein. ~Thank-you~ Reserved for an introduction * Normally used to indicate a footnote, here this represents an uncertain fact. I either read/heard it, or something very simillar to it somewhere, but what the precise statement was I may not recall... and there's always the chance that I've got some aspect of it wrong. I don't like to give misfacts. 'Ye have been warned.'

Trust? Love? Please don't kill me! Arg! As I was going to St. Ives, I met a man with seven wives; Each wife had seven sacks, Each sack had seven cats, Each cat had seven kits. Kits, cats, sacks, wives, How many were going to St. Ives?

the middle of the board. "Aw damn!" said the moleman* playing red. The second moleman stared at the array of red and black checkers on the floor, a glint of satisfaction in his eyes. "Well, it's tied then," he said. "That was not a tie," snapped red, "I was two moves away from winning and you won't get away with it just because a human fell through the roof." "Ah, but now there is no way to prove that you were going to win. Why, I could have turned the whole game around in my next move. It is a tie, there's no way out of it, and that means that I get the.... *A brief note on the history of molemen. Amazingly, after the localized apocalypse, the other inhabitants of the planet never noticed the small, regrowing mini-country and never by any chance wandered into it. Even the Yersinia pestis bacteria avoided it like the plague. Ground dwelling lifeforms on the other hand, returned to its soils within a matter of weeks. Among the first to arrive were the moles, who upon finding the area unoccupied and quite free of competition rapidly developed a thriving civilization that still existed several million years later when miniature travel agents (such as Mike) scurried about on the surface.

First, cards on the table, I haven't dated, tried to date, met anyone I want to date, etc etc. So that particular facet of my response won't be there. I am neither shy, nor the social butterfly (perish the thought). I might be described as forward; I am not uneasy about voicing an opinion, chatting with a stranger or performing for an audience with a high chance that I'll muck up. I tend to make a good first impression to people who appreciate etiquette. Depending on the circumstances, most of the time I will greet people formally. The flip side is, it is because I have to. Given that I like behaving formally, and would anyway, the other big factor of the equation is that social interaction does not come naturally to me. I know how to talk if I have something to say, but social ad-lib is a skill that I lack almost in its entirety. The formal behaviours that I use are in a way a lifeline - a routine that is run through to get me by. After it is finished, I stand there feeling quite awkward. If there is a topic afoot that I can take part in, there are no problems, but otherwise, I don't really know how to act. Even in the presence of people I do know well, I fall into this situation on occasion. I have one friend locally, just the one. Mainly because the type of person I get along well with is so very rare. So I couldn't in any way be described as a social butterfly. But in general I am confident enough not to be described as shy either - it is just that that particular part of my brain that controls social behaviour is not really normal - it manifests in other ways too - I don't remember new faces, even if I was looking at them less than a minute ago, I am not good at picking up on people's signals when they are irritated for example, one or two other things too I think. As far as shyness in a potential mate (I'll answer this one because I don't need experience to have an opinion), I'm not sure how much it will matter. Shyness is not a positive trait when it comes to getting a job, and someone who is shy to a ridiculous degree would be annoying, but overall it wouldn't really matter. I would be inclined to say I'd prefer someone awkward in some of the same ways that I am (a little anti-social and inclined to follow their own way of thinking), but at the same time I know (because my grandfather is an example) it is possible to socialize smoothly in any community while not being one of the sheep. So in the end, so long as he isn't a follower, I really don't care.

Canid was in a good mood. The Pen was full of life in various states of terror and exuberance; Prospero was leading the former by heading the latter with a mad attack on the rabbit-skin pyramid and much that surrounded it. She had had a brief run-in with Mr. Bunny during which she was pelted with carrots & promised to reincarnate the majority of the slaughtered bunnies (and in truth, this pleased her as much as the famed rabbit). The fur in Canid's ear twitched in warning and she skittered to the side just enough to avoid being hit by a large gargoyle, whose every gruesome detail was obviously carved with love. She looked at the damaged beast with an expression of anguish. Gargoyles were a passion of hers. “Anybody’s got some supaglue?” Had its mouth moved? Canid wasn't quite sure. There was the sudden impression that the thing was looking at her “You can keep me, if you fix me, please?” Canid licked her lips. She sniffed the rock-beast. She glanced back and forth between the beautiful grotesque and the roof from which it fell. There didn't seem to be anyone up there... it had just, fallen. A slow grin spread across her furry muzzle. It was a grin that managed to unnerve the gargoyle. "Certainly I can fix you." she said, and set about gathering the pieces. Thank-you very much for the birthday thread. I enjoyed reading it, just had no time to post on the day. I did have a very good day... and for the record, I LOVE gargoyles.

Gerald pushed on. Merlyn would have to miss an introduction to Haste. The other horses too, as it happened; all five were out and being inspected by their intended mounts when the escort showed up by himself and saluted Gerald. “Where’s Merlyn?” asked the Captain instantly. “His campsite was empty, Sir. I made enquiries and he left in full gear yesterday, Sir.” The horses stopped their twitching and turned to watch the escort with as much interest as their companions. “Left?” Gerald had a tone of mild incredulity. “Left where?” “I had one account of him heading East. No one else saw him go, Sir.” Gerald rolled back on his heels and took a moment’s thought. “Go check for his tracks and confirm it. Dismissed.” Jade perked up. “Captain Gerald! I see him.” Gerald and the others strode up beside Haste, on which Jade was seated and followed her gaze. Merlyn was stepping out from the eastern treeline with long, even strides. In one hand was a log carrier, filled with uprooted plants and sticks, in the other a large, handled cloth box. “Mount up!” ordered Gerald, and then marched quickly towards the approaching soldier. Merlyn nodded a salute as the Captain closed in. “I apologize for being late, S-“ “It’s noon!” Gerald exclaimed. “My apologies Captain. It is a long hike to the nearest bog and the extracts I can gather from this mud will prove invaluable to us. Well worth a few hours delay. I count five horses, Sir?” “That is all we have at our disposal. You are riding on the large stallion with Jade.” Merlyn smiled gratefully and nodded a second time. “Thank-you, Sir.” “Mud, Merlyn?” “Marsh mud, rich in gasses among other things,” he lifted the cloth box, “very heavy, though. With your permission, Captain, I will proceed?” Merlyn inclined his head toward the horses.

"Yes," answered a contemplative voice from above him, "I have some things to gather." Merlyn loomed over Jadros' head and switched his gaze from the sky to his colleague, "Mostly muck I'm afraid," and with a friendly smile, he cast off towards his tent. Merlyn had enjoyed looming over the meeting. At 6'6", it was rare for him to be out-loomed by anyone, but it still gave him pleasure to tower over his colleagues. The female captain dashed past him and stomped off towards where Hrath was failing to light a cigar. This was obviously not to be a united group. Merlyn knew little of the Captains Gerald and Katherina and nothing of his new teammates, with the exception of Jade. She had served under him for the past two months of his short affiliation with the Confederacy and Merlyn had always been grateful to have met her as a Confederate. As a Loom, he would have been dead before a battle could begin. Knowing her talents as he did now, there might exist a fighting chance, but he wouldn't want to test it. Maxon the Khan; not directly his old leader, he had been under Danius. The opposite end of the Looms. Quite a singular mission. It had been a severe shock when Rald first explained the assignment. But they knew none of this. Merlyn Avogadro of Lectipass: avenging its destruction, dueling evil, rising in the ranks. The tent approached. It permitted him entrance, and a moment later, exit, with a large, oblong backpack which was stuffed with clothes, bedding, food and most importantly, equipment: Merlyn's carefully selected mobile laboratory. He yanked up the pegs and dragged the heavy canvas tent from its poll, rolling and tying it to his pack in traditional fashion. Merlyn hoisted the mass over himself, shifting it into a place of balance. The first order of business was to gather chemical supplies. Time for one of his little hikes.

Well.... since the thread has been brought to the surface again and I have been wanting to post in it recently anyway.... :woot: "I had rather hear my dog bark at a crow than a man swear he loves me" ~ Much Ado About Nothing, William Shakespeare "Flipity-flopity bunny! Flipity-flopity bunny! Bunny is nice, As nice as can be. Chop him up and have him for tea!" ~ a song from an English pantomime "I really have a secret satisfaction in being considered rather mad." ~ W. Heath Robinson, 1872-1944 "Believe me, Baldrick, eternity in the company of Beelzebub, and all his hellish instruments of death, will be a picnic compared to five minutes with me, and this pencil" ~ Ink and Incapability, Blackadder III "Why not? Because, in the first place, self decapitation is an extremely difficult, not to say dangerous, thing to attempt; and, in the second, it's suicide, and suicide is a capital offence." ~ The Mikado, Gilbert and Sullivan "I cannot agree with those who rank modesty among the virtues. To the logician all things should be seen exactly as they are, and to underestimate one's self is as much a departure from truth as to exaggerate one's own powers." ~ The Greek Interpreter, Sir Arthur Conan Doyle "Politicians like to panic, they need activity. It's their substitute for achievement." ~ Sir Humphrey, Yes, Minister Sir Humphrey: If local authorities don't send us the statistics that we ask for, then government figures will be a nonsense. Jim Hacker: Why? Sir Humphrey: They will be incomplete. Jim Hacker: But government figures are a nonsense anyway. Bernard Woolley: I think Sir Humphrey wants to ensure they are a complete nonsense. ~ Yes, Minister Jim Hacker: Are you saying that winking at corruption is government policy? Sir Humphrey: No, no, Minister. It could never be government policy. That is unthinkable. Only government practice. ~ Yes, Minister "He that would keep a secret, must keep it secret that he has a secret to keep." ~ Sir Humphrey, Yes, Minister Sir Humphrey: Minister I have something to say to you which you may not like to hear. Jim: Why should today be any different. Sir Humphrey: Minister, the traditional allocation of executive responsibilities has always been so determined as to liberate the Ministerial incumbent from the administrative minutiae by devolving the managerial functions to those whose experience and qualifications have better formed them for the performance of such humble offices, thereby releasing their political overlords for the more onerous duties and profound deliberations which are the inevitable concomitant of their exalted position. Jim: Now, whatever made you think I wouldn't want to hear that. Sir Humphrey: Well I though it might upset you. Jim: How could it, I didn't understand a single word. Humphrey for God's sake, for once in your life put it into plain English. Sir Humphrey: If you insist. You are not here to run this Department. Jim: I beg your pardon. Sir Humphrey: You are not here to run this Department. Jim: I think I am. The people think I am too. Sir Humphrey: With respect Minister you are ... they are wrong. Jim: And who does run this Department? Sir Humphrey: I do. ~ Yes, Minister Uttered in a certain way--dragged out, if you know what I mean, and starting high up and going down into the lower register, the word ``Ah!'' can be as sinister and devastating as the word ``Ho!'' ~ Very Good, Jeeves, P.G. Wodehouse 'I hate you, I hate you!' cried Madeline, a thing I didn't know anyone ever said except in the second act of a musical comedy. ~ Stiff Upper Lip, Jeeves, P.G. Wodehouse "Madeline Bassett labors under the delusion that I am madly in love with her. Well, when a girl thinks you're in love with her and comes to you and says that she's returning her betrothed to store and is prepared to sign up with you instead - what can you do except marry her? You have to be civil." ~ Wooster, Jeeves and Wooster (TV) "Please relax," said the voice pleasantly, like a stewardess in an airliner with only one wing and two engines, one of which is on fire, "you are perfectly safe." ~ The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy, Douglas Adams "Number Two's eyes narrowed and became what are known in the Shouting and Killing People trade as cold slits, the idea presumable being to give your opponent the impression that you have lost your glasses or are having difficulty keeping awake. Why this is frightening is an, as yet, unresolved problem." ~ The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy, Douglas Adams "The world is full of obvious things which nobody by any chance ever observes." ~ Sir Arthur Conan Doyle "The Press, Watson, is a most valuable institution, if you only know how to use it." ~ The Adventure of the Six Napoleons, Sir Arthur Conan Doyle

~History~ Merlyn Avogadro was born in Carta Rise, an isolated village built among the cliffs. The community openly supported the Loom rebellion, and as expected, Merlyn joined the Looms at age 16. A working knowledge of chemistry, taught him by his father, and his literacy served him well. Despite his insubordinate nature, he climbed to Lieutennant by 19, but deserted shortly after the promotion. Hiding his past, and claiming to be from a recently destroyed Confederate town known as Lectipass, Merlyn joined the ranks of the Confederate army within two months of leaving the Looms. He was promoted within the year.

~Items~ A fine set of glass tubes, jars, mats, burners, tongs, tools and refined powders constitutes Merlyn's chemistry set. He keeps the entire array in a back pack that he constructed for the purpose. It jangles a bit, but nothing breaks. Merlyn carries two swords; one heavy and short, one long and light. He is quite profficient with them. He fancies the crossbow, but never learned to use one.

~Personality~ Generally amiable and pleasant. Merlyn is an intelligent individual with his own private set of motives; power and command being one less hidden. Whether he is serving you or himself is not always obvious. Living in a supersticious, at many times extremist, society has taken its toll on his respect for his fellow men and soldiers. He does not like having to keep close mouthed about his own beliefs and retreats into his private pursuits (namely chemistry) when faced with having to hold back.

Character exists in Flight of the Zephyr. Connecting threads: Lymnor's Wake Setting OOC: Flight of the Zephyr Planning ~Physical Description~ Merlyn is 20 years old. He is 6'6, well muscled, but thin. He has black, loosely curled hair that he wears shoulder length and green eyes.

Tool of scribes through time. Writing implement of yore. Poised to make fine lines.

Crystaline structure Perforated uniquely. Not rain, nor quite hail. Falling, rising, drift. Moved by wind to strike the ground, Millions at a time. Child, grab them in lumps In a clean forest off each Branch. Bite your cold drink.

I carefully removed the globe from its shelter, placing it on the table with a dusty thud. It stood a foot tall and was dully colored. It was not tilted, but sat vertically on its axel and spun smoothly. The continents bore no relation to their familiar forms and had been scrawled on in a ghastly shade of purple by someone with an unsteady hand. I ran my finger along the carefully detailed ocean canyons. The surface wrinkled beneath and I watched in shock as a paper wave crashed and dissipated against an island labeled "Fgerrot". A drop of cold ocean water slid off my finger and splashed against the table.