Alaeha

I rejoice! Rejoice, rejoice. Joyousness. All that good stuff. Have never seen us angry when people leave. Even less so when said people come back. It's more along the lines of a Pounce-and-Huggle-fest. *Pounces* *Huggles*

Fascinating. Not the typical read. The italicized bits were interesting. I wasn't sure for a while whether you were talking about D&D, Magic, or some computer or another. Definitely an interesting experiment. Fun to read, but partly because it's not the typical read, I think.

Strange... The third line particularly seems rough. It's obvious that you rearranged it in Yoda-speak for the sake of the rhyme. Perhaps "The Sun, dark, circles overhead,"? The repetition of "when" isn't really necessary in this case I think. This is a continuation of the previous thought anyway. And just "the people's lives are filled with dread."? the one and all bit is a really rough read, I think. It has potential, it's just really rough in some spots. That probably just means you need some practice rhyming. Keep at it! It'll get easier to avoid Yoda-speak.

Based heavily on one of the dreams I had last night. I dream too much. I'll continue it "Are you sure we have to do this?" She asked, "It seems excessive." "I know. But if they don't dare to defy us, how can they possibly be ready for what lies in store for them? "Besides," he continued, "even if he doesn't have the nerve to suggest it, she does. And he'll carry it out if he knows she's willing." "Do we really want her with someone who can't show that much initiative, though?" She showed a doubtful frown. "Do we have any choice? She wouldn't have anything to do with the men we suggested. Let's see where her own decisions take her." There was silence for a time, before the woman nodded reluctantly. "I suppose we had best get ready to meet him, then." She said. * * * Ilanor strode through the hallways, watching carefully for guards. He had surrendered his sword at the door to the inner portions of the keep, and that made him nervous. The guards weren't a threat, however, so much as a sign. The Earl would be certain to have guards nearby, and he had important news for him. The sooner that was taken care of, the better. He had important business for Siliera as well. "Sir Ilanor!" A guard called from in front of him, running up. "We heard word that you were coming. The Earl is busy, I'm afraid. Can you wait?" "I'm afraid not." Ilanor answered, "Unless he's unconscious or on his deathbed, I need to see him now." "Even if..." "Even then. But he's not. Trust me, I know the Earl." He fought back a laugh at the guard's blush. "Now, where is he?" "Right this way, Sir!" The guard nearly ran down the hallway, seeming intent on staying in front of the messenger. Ilanor chuckled softly to himself at that thought. He was more than merely a messenger from the King. He was less, as well. Or so it seemed to many. "In here, Sir." The guard bowed his head as he gestured at an ornately carved door. "Are you sure?" "Absolutely." Ilanor paused a moment, listening to the sounds on the other side of the door, steeled himself, and cracked it just open enough to slide through.

Yay! And Rune's not dead either! *Huggles both*

Cute. I've watched perl scripts forming before. Don't know how to write in it, but I recognized the title. Definitely an amusing surprise for those who don't know the difference between Perl and Pearl.

As promised... *Defenestrates NTraveler* ;P

*Shoots a mock glare at Deg* I know you're kidding. Or at least I hope so. Because then I can be just kidding when I defenestrate the next person I see doing that.

Alaeha reached the cabaret room later than she had hoped, having been busy for various reasons for most of the day, and was confused when she saw a banner in Gwaihir's distinctive style proclaiming, "Alaeha grows poets like a plant grows flowers." "Wait, what?" She looked down at her arm for a moment, half-expecting to see a poet pop out of her elbow, "What's that..." She was cut off before she could finish the thought by an enormous pounce-ing huggle from Ayshela. When she could disentangle herself, she asked "What's that about?" "Hmm?" Ayshela looked at her for a moment. "Oh. I guess you wouldn't know from the banner. I asked Ozymandias about it. You got promoted." "Oh!" Slipping into her courtier's mannerisms, Alaeha hid her surprise, but not her delight, as she accepted her congratulations and Finnius' flower. In an OOC style: Thank you all! Don't really have much more to say, except for one thing: "BWAHAHAHAHA! You can't get rid of me now!" ;P

Nope. If I drank, I'd go out and get drunk with you. I guess you'll just have to settle for a "Happy Birthday." *Hugs*

*Almost dies laughing* I love it! Well, them. Both versions. Congratulations on being made an acception.

"...then playing an intense game of Twister with me?" Wyvern asked. Alaeha tried to slowly count to ten, reminding herself that Wyvern was just naturally tactless and couldn't help himself. Still, she couldn't stop her hand from assuming proper slapping position even as she reminded herself that an almost-dragon couldn't be expected to have a basic sense of decency. "It could be interesting..." She admitted, "but I really have to find a couple of people right now. Have you seen Aleyn or Jirah?" "But..." Wyvern whined, "that was a great pickup line! The almost-dragonic surveys said it was the best one around!" And that was that. Giving in, Alaeha graced him with her finest slap. Now she had to find the restroom in this mess so she could wash almost-dragon drool off her hand.

I'm writing this as a joke because I'm tired. Dawnwind sighed. Why did it always come to this? Every time he thought he could relax and breathe, some stupid ghost or spirit or angel or whatever would come to him and send him on a quest. And he always had to kill someone. Not that he couldn't kill people, of course. As a Masterblade, Master Archer, Archmage, and Healer, he was more than capable of warfare. But nobody believed it. He was "only fifteen" after all. What'd they know? The morons. He'd show them all. If he could just find the secret to this temple, he'd tell the next celestial visitor to find someone else and he'd make his people give him the respect he deserved. Looking back down at the corpses he'd momentarily forgotten in his broodings, he searched for any sort of identification out of habit, from his days of training as a tracker. No luck, which was surprising since he was a master tracker. Maybe his katana had somehow annihilated it. He had sliced the fools fifteen times each before they hit the ground. Once again, he sighed and turned his gaze back on the altar. Finally, giving up in disgust, he exploded the altar with a simple spell, rather than putzing around with the trick mechanism, and followed the staircase down. It was always the altar. An extremely attractive elven spirit greeted him at the bottom of the stairs. "Welcome, hero! You ha.." "Look," He interrupted, "can we just get this over with? I've got to be home for dinner in an hour." "Oh. Right. Down that hallway, second door on the left. First one's the bathroom. The others have our dramatic murals and tapestries that we were supposed to use for our speech." "Yes, yes, very nice." Dawnwind strode quickly down the hall, his black cape flowing in his wake as he brushed his blonde hair back from over his crystal blue eyes. The door opened before his hand reached it -- he couldn't resist a chance to show off his magic for the chicks. This new room was bare, save for an intricate rune that somehow glowed from the floor, and a young girl resembling the spirit from the previous room floated in the center. Dawnwind yawned for a moment and waved his hand dramatically at the rune and it disappeared. The girl fell to the floor with an unflattering thud, and sat upright, glaring at him. "You could've at least caught me or cushioned me fall, Mr. 'Big hero,'" She growled. "Look, I know you're the one from out there. Like I said, I have to get home." Without another word, he cast a simple flying spell on himself and flew out of the temple and began his trip home. He had more important things than damsels in distress. Unless he was mistaken, a bit of dust from the exploding alter had gotten into his hair. And he had more philosophical ramblings to do.

"Come on, we're going to be late!" Aleyn yelled back as he ran toward the party. "We're already late." Jirah reminded him. "Now, you've got your underwear, I have mine. And Alaeha..." "I have my haiku." She glared at him. "And you are to remember that you owe me dearly." "I know. I know. But how were we supposed to get two unique pairs of underwear? Or even one?" "Just give them to Melba and be done with it." She said, turning her back on both men in disgust as they reached the gates. "Underclothing, gentlemen." She prompted the pair. "No undies, no entries." Jirah reached into his bag, and withdrew a pair of slightly worn white boxers. "These should do." He said, smiling as he handing them to the ogress. "Sorry, gent, the rules are quite clear. Unique undies only." She reminded him, gesturing the trolls forward. "I know they're meant to be unique. These are. Alaeha here charmed them off of some drunk." The trolls paused for a moment as Jirah spoke. "There's hardly anything unique about that." Melba snorted, beckoning the trolls closer again, "That girl could charm the pants off most sober men." "But how many women could make the man forget that he'd given them to her... without anything untoward occuring?" He smirked. The ogress heaved an immense sigh, gesturing the trolls back as they neared. "Fine." She turned to Aleyn. "And what about you? Yours don't take a bad story, do they?" Aleyn blushed for a moment as he reached into his bag and withdrew what looked at first to be a pile of knotted string, and handed it to Melba. With a raised eyebrow, she stretched the string out. "Fishnet panties?" She choked. Aleyn choked as well, and bolted past the trolls and into the party as they smirked, chuckled, and then outright guffawed at the boy. Alaeha turned around at the sound of running, and sighed as her brother disappeared into the throng. She looked Melba straight on and pleaded "Don't ask. Please? Anyway, here's my Haiku." She handed Melba a thin folded sheet of parchment and walked on, muttering the haiku in disgust as she began to search for her "escorts." "Indeed. Hiss spit growl I hate intruders. Hate you canines. Sons of bleeps. Hiss spit." Sons of bleeps indeed. Now where had they gotten to? And why were there so many frogs? Restraining the urge to step on the slimies, she sidestepped a game of twister and continued her search.

Ahh. Sorry for the misunderstanding then. I'd been worried that the barbequeness disappeared somehow. Congrats on being so close to surviving high school though. I've got a full year and some yet.

so... umm... is this going to happen? or did this die? Just want to know whether making my other account would have any purpose beyond being extra burden on the servers.

What happened to the barbeque? *Sadness* Well done, but I'd looked forward to seeing Jesus tearing cow flesh and barbeque sauce off a well done rib.

Hmm... I thought shinies were a Minta thing too. Oh well. I'll edit that then. But yeah, Minta on Mountain Dew would be remarkably similar to a Nuclear weapon.

I want to see what kind of questions people would make to go with the quiz results I've been putting together with others for my quest. Merelas brought it up, and it's come up before. So I'll give an example to start out. 1) What should you not be left alone with? a: Shinies (Rydia I guess *Mock Glare at Zadown*) b: People you don't like (Cioden) c: Geld (Wyvern) d: Stupid People (Tzimfemme) e: Relatives (Ayshela) f: ... (Mr. Bunny) The parentheticals are, of course, the result which that answer would give you a "point" toward, and wouldn't be shown in the event that the quiz was actually programmed and put online. And also obviously, you couldn't put every possible result onto each question, but you would want to maintain some sort of balance. So what sorts of questions would others put in? Results have currently been written for: Ayshela, Wyvern, Cioden Darkeye, Tzimfemme, Minta Rose, Rydia, Rosemary, Stick, Peredhil, Gyrfalcon, Zadown, Gwaihir, Salinye, Finnius, Ozymandias, Degenero Angelus, Mr. Bunny, and Yui. Will update this list as more are added.

Yeah. When I was copying and revising that one over from my sheet of paper, I seem to have misplaced that line. I remember that it ended in "Oh fudge" since that's an exclamation that's fun and it rhymed. But I think I'll leave it this way as a tribute to my continuing sleepdepness. But I consistently don't end my phrases and thoughts at the end of the line... nor even necessarily the stanza. Enjambment (sp?) is my friend. Thanks for the comments on it, both of you!

And one for Falcon.

Since I'm trying to keep this moving forward, this'll be a longish set focusing mostly on the remainder of the Quincunx

Clothes? Clothes? *Confused look* What the heck are those? Seriously though, I like this. Alaeha tosses the new applicant and his application into a box labeled "Fragile! This Side Up! Express Mail!", stamps it, and mails the box off to Wyvern; hopefully, the Almost-Dragon won't scar this one too badly.

Indeed. I wish I could express myself half so well as Mr. Bunny... ...

And for the sake of a good laugh...