Melba

Melba nods to herself happily as she finally finishes recording the exact measurements of the huge dragon carrot sculpture, her chubby right thumb holding a spot in a large tome labeled "101 Ways to Cook Almost Dragons." Sliding the book open to the page she holds her finger at and briefly glancing over the recipe to "Almost Dragon Spicey Carrot Cake," Melba sighs to herself as her sense of responsibility kicks in. Oy Gavaltz mutters Melba's conscious as she makes her way back to the front door of the Conservatory That knuckleheaded boychick Jim probably can't tell an entrance fee from his own ego, and that hacking cat of Sorciere's has probably gotten hairballs all over the boxer short pile. Time to hurry. Melba arrives at the front entrance and shoves Jim to the side just as he begins bragging to Gnarlitch about his excellent steadfastness. Scowling upon noticing that Jim has let a few people in line sneak in without paying the fee, Melba immediately confronts those who are now standing at the front of the line, which happen to be Verteniun and Daliarus. "Special boxer shorts, please." growls Melba, extending a hand and glancing at the two assistant astronomers angrily. Vertenin and Daliarus cast a quick glance towards one another and frown. Then, Daliarus quickly snaps a finger and digs through the backpack he carries, only to whip out what appear to be two video cassette tapes. "I hope these'll do." mutters Daliarus as he hands the tapes to Melba. "They contain a collection of boxer shorts that I fondly call 'Muhammed Ali vs. Everybody.' Never thought I'd part with these, but I guess that one's health always comes first." Verteniun quickly nods and enters into the party, dragging Daliarus in by the arm with him as Melba stares at the two cassette tapes in confusion.

The sight of Wyvern with the two knife-edged creased pantlegs sticking up off his head like angled panels, as he fled down the Hallway "Oy," came the sub-thought interruption, "I'm going to give Door SUCH a polishing for letting him out so easily!" reminded Melba oddly of her thirty-second husband, who'd been an Inquisitor in Spain. When he was alone in his chambers, he'd dress like a damsel complete with wimpole and corset. She'd never really liked him, but what was an actual witch to do in such troubled times? Marry the law-enforcer, of course. With a practiced flick of her heavily bangled wrists, she flung the belt in strict accordance with Tuxedo Sling Fu and Belt Olympics. "Too bad no one is here to note my correct form. Freddy would've been proud of teaching me he would've! Such a marvelous dancer and dresser," she sighed, "funny how no one noticed that shikseh Ginger was doing everything Freddy did, plus backward and in high heels." "But isn't that the way of the world? A chazer bleibt a chazer?" she finished aloud. Bending agily for all her rolls "And who wants a skinny Twiggy to cut yourself on her hips or shoulderblades?" she easily tucked Wyvern under one arm, resting him on her hip, and sauntered back into the office. "Now MR. Wyvern, that lovely well-dressed and so sad, probably a faigeleh, but who else could be so safe around all these women? I'll bet they're all chasing Brute trying to sow that manly man's wild oats Polite Peredhil, like you couldn't use some lessons?" She fell silent ignoring his struggles and how his stubby wings beat futily at her resiliently padded sides as she remembered that Wyvern was trying to learn some manners. "And what's with the sudden manners scheme? If you break Mr. Peredhil's heart trying to use him..." She stopped at Wyvern's scream of fear. She was used to translating screams in her presence, and spoke the language well. This one sounded like it meant either, "no more of your fantastic food," or "remember, I'm the boss and I have to make his phone calls!" At her approach, Door silently opened for her. They'd had THAT little tussle out when she first moved in to help. Door reminded her in a way of her seventy-eighth husband, so what was his name again? She hitched up Wyvern on the curves of her hip and went inside his office to get him ready.

Do I know Brute?! At this empassioned cry, all the gourmet-loving footsteps, sensing a gooey rant, hastly beat a retreat on rapid feet. "Brute... how to describe his hairless magnificence... His dark eyes and hands, his pallid brow... the aura of power which surrounds him - "Say, did you know he does skellie tricks, like that little Minta, such a little darling..." Melba sits gazing off at at some engrossing internal vision of perfection, while the other two quickly avail themselves of some of the Pen's best food. IT'S JEALOUSY! Melba exclaims loudly. The Door to the room shifts and sighs, he's heard *this* too many times before, "Wyvern is jealous and greedy, everyone knows that. Brutesy Wootsey had the Decanter of Endless Booze first. I suspect..." And she gives them both a knowing look, "that he didn't win it in a contest after all. And is blackmailing him!" Exchanging glances, both look back to the impassioned Almost Secretary, swallow at having stirred deep waters, and nod. placated, Melba nods back with a wink and goes back to sorting her papers. It's with a sigh of relief they go back to waiting...

At the mention of food, Melba, the Almost Secretary of the Pen, sits up like a breeching whale and snorts. "Chocolate?" She drools, "Mind if I have a little nibble? I don't suppose it's some of that Angel of Apocolypse brand that Elder Orlan occasionally gives me?" As the most recent question before the mention of food penetrates, she reluctantly gives an answer, for she is the Almost Secretary of the Pen. "Elder Wyvern," she says, her mouth tight and white behind the scarlett lipstick scrawled in its general vicinity, "is the Elder of Initiates. As such he's SUPPOSED to be in here, reviewing applications and determining that there isn't any plagarism, judging originality, and the other duties that come with such a high office as Elder." She snorts and her mu-mu rippling disturbingly but doesn't rupture with the added stress to the flesh it tightly restrains. "What that Almost Dragonic newly-made Bard REALLY does is scheme for money, which they call geld here for some reason, and try to DRIVE ME NUTS!" they start back as she spews tiny chocolate chunks in her rage. The sight of her face turning nearly as red as her hennaed hair is alarming, and it's a good thing Ayshela knows Melba is a sweetheart and darned good cook at heart, with a soft spot for nearly everything except Wyvern, and Cylia d’Listrale, formerly of the Order of Verdannis, and a Knight Protector is of proven bravery. Both politely avert their eyes as Melba pulls out a tiny hanky and heaves to her feet, then waddles over to the ladies room. The silence of the room feels like the eye of a storm suddenly; in her absence, they suddenly realize how much magery Melba carries in her person. "More chocolate?" smiles Ayshela hesitantly, wondering how long it would be before Wyvern showed up THIS time...

Melba nods back silently, over come with emotion at the stirring tale. Pulling a large green handkerchief from her "flame" red and orange Mu-Mu, she attends to it with a large HONK! "Beautiful," She mutters back as she begins eating a few donuts to fend off the tears.

Melba read the application with a start. When the young lady had first come in, she'd thought she was entering in answer to Wyvern's latest advertisment. Hmmph. She wouldn't even think about the scheme he'd come up with this time, but several rolls of fat quivered with righteous indignation. Anyway, she'd carefully looked for any of what she considered the Real Elders, remote, polite, mysterious, so subtle you'd hardly know they were there like powerful people should be, and then deliberately acted uncharacteristically rude to the poor slip of a girl. Oy! The darling was so skinny! She needed to eat something! Melba patted her comfortably padded body with contentment. No sag on top! Too well bolstered by the support of her solid tummy. A real man and mage, like Brute would know what to do with a real woman! Anyway, the little chick wasn't lost after all, just a hesitant applicant. "Sweetie, would you like some nice bagel and lox? And some tuna fish for your cat?" Not waiting on an answer she swept into fixing a little something to tide the girl over. "no telling how long it will take Elder Wyvern," she spat acidly, "to return to his duties! And to think he's a Bard now while that wonderful Brute is bypassed. Oy!" Her muttering trailed off as a scrumptious meal appeared in nearly magical time. There was one thing Melba was known for at the Pen, (besides trying to get Wyvern fired), and that was cooking. And when a forlorn skinny goya girl needed reassurance and feeding, Melba was inspired. Those with discriminating noses began drifting toward the Recruiter's Office...

With a sniff, Melba ignored Peredhil. At first she thought he was wonderful - well, maybe he was, he did get her fresh bagels - But Oy! he always helped that Wyvern! When she thought of the number of clues she'd sent that inspector assigned to the Greedy One's case, that delightful Inspector I.M. Clueless... With melting eyes, she gazed off into fantasies of her beloved Brute, coming to see her bearing a hot pastrami on rye...

Melba chases Psimon a few steps before coming to a panting stop. What an IMP he is. (And such a cute little hinney!) Patting her heavily hennaed hair back into its monsterous beehive hairdoo, she turns back to Shadow of the Butterfly. Don't worry dearie, That Elder she nearly spits the label will be around eventually. He always comes back - the Lore Masters have enchanted this Office to be one of the few places his creditors can't come for long. She keeps up a continual stream of talk as she bustles about cleaning and arranging. I'D stamp it ACCEPTED if they'd let me, but NOoooo, I'm only the ALMOST Secretary. Oy! I'd like to give that lazy lizard such a PINCH sometimes! Turning with a speed that is surprising in one so... stout, she thrusts out a plate of confections. Eat! You look so skinny, what? You think all the boys want a chicken? Eat! Eat! you'll starve waiting for Wyvern!