Venefyxatu

Mattie the Third had been so absorbed by the electrical trains display that he'd hardly even noticed that something was wrong ... except for the lights being out. When he saw the lights on the trains, though, he was actually delighted about the dark. And then, suddenly, he came out of his fascination when he heard his name being used in a way he hadn't heard before ... this didn't sound like some nanny scolding him, or someone about to give him presents ... it sounded like trouble, lots of trouble. "What? What'd I do?" In the buzz of voices, there was one word that was clearly audible, time and time again : "killed." Even Mattie grew silent when he realized what they were accusing him of, staring at the crowd. Even if he'd known how to react, he would have been too stupefied to say anything ... OOC : Not voting for anyone. I'm a decent kid, I don't go flinging around vile and baseless accusations

Mattie the Third was wandering through the aisles, looking at all the fascinating toys in the version that didn't belong to him, slowly making his way to the electrical trains section. When he finally reached it he was about to become upset that the display wasn't as impressive as last year's when he noticed a new steam engine coming out of one of the tunnels on the display. The lights on this one were so impressive that he completely forgot about last year's display, and stood staring at the engine for at least five minutes, quietly going "ooooh" every time it passed by him.

Matthew Jonathan Clarke von Wunscheringen III, Mattie the Third for short. An 11-year-old, spoiled-rotten-to-the-core-and-then-some son of an extremely wealthy CEO. His parents have been divorced for 8 years now (she took half his fortune, still leaving him with enough money to buy a few small countries, but he got custody, and only fought for it because he knew she'd hate the idea) and he spends a whole lot of time by himself (since his father is working practically all the time) or in the care of overpaid nannies who don't really care about him. He snuck off to the toy store, deciding to make his nanny search for him while he gawked at the toys. Of course he already owns most of them, but there's something about looking at stuff that he could buy with the pocket money he gets all the time that keeps fascinating him ...

*lets two characters pull him around a bit, vying for attention* *patiently waits for the third character that will no doubt show up to whisk him away* Here's hoping work doesn't get *too* insanely busy - count me in to play

Good luck with it! I'll cross my fingers for a smooth moving experience

So what did this year teach me? The empty calendar : very helpful. I would almost go as far as to say that it is required Mental preparation : definitely on the required list. Preparation on paper : The best battle plans last only until the first arrow flies. The same holds for paper preparation, though notes can come in handy if you get stuck Plot idea : Quite useful. Characters would've been useful, too, though The junk-free desk had to be dug up from under piles and piles of stuff, which took me about two days in which I didn't write even a single letter. The break was nice though. Hrmmmmmm ... The outline : I blasted through it in about three days, and had to skip a quarter of it because it was useless (way too high-level). No structure for me! The time off was great to do a 5k-per-day ending sprint, but also the cause that I got so far behind (as in : "I'll have time enough in the last two weeks".) If I hadn't had those, I would've forced myself to stay ahead, like I did in the first week-and-a-half. I think. In conclusion : *screams and does the happy dance* I WON!!! :hyper: :hyper: :hyper:

I'm intrigued ... all I need to do is actually remember it and login to IRC at the right time ... If I'm not on, as Patrick so nicely put it, "Family Christmasy business," and don't have to get up for work the next day, count me in.

“So you would use me as a lighter?” Tanny chuckled, trying to suppress the last giggling fits. The answer came in Stephen’s characteristically dry manner. “Of course – with a fiery temperament like yours, I’d never even have to replace you … Seriously though, you’ve hinted at this before, but you never did tell me what exactly is wrong with weaving Fire threads.” Even though he couldn’t see her face, Stephen could almost physically feel her mood darken. When she kept hesitating before responding, he gently nudged her with his elbow. “Take your time, Wolf-Lady. Tell me whenever you’re ready.” Closing her eyes, Tanny took a long, deep breath and answered, “It's not wrong... depending on who weaves them. Me... it's a curse.” Stephen nodded, but waited in silence, wondering whether she’d like to tell more. Tanny stirred uneasily, and her voice was hushed. "You have to understand, first, that the great majority of the Clan can wield only one of the four kinds of elemental energy — water, fire, earth, air. Probably ninety-five percent of us is proficient in just one of them. Maybe another four percent can weave a little bit of one other non-opposite energy besides their primary one." "That leaves still one percent that, let me guess, can wield two elements with equal proficiency. Like you," concluded Stephen easily. "But what you mean by non-opposite energy?" She paused, apparently trying to sort out thoughts. Quietly, she added, "Not only equal proficiency, but a great deal of skill. I can do with both Earth and Water threads what most of the Clan can't do with their primary ones." "Well, well... where is all that humbleness I'm so used to?" Stephen grinned, letting a teasing tone surface to ease the strain he could feel in his friend. As answer, he heard a soft chuckle followed by a light mind-touch and a wince. "Something wrong?" Stephen reached out a hand towards Tanny, resting it lightly on her arm. "Headache," grumbled Tanny with a grimace. "It seems that using mindspeech right now is rather impossible..." Still rubbing her temple lightly, she went on, "Opposite energies are... well, opposite. Water and Fire, Earth and Air. They do not mix for us. They cannot be woven together, they cannot be controlled together." Stephen frowned, his mind picturing the tanuki-lighter suddenly catching fire and burning into ashes. Worried that something similar would actually happen to Tanny, he almost asked her not to try it. However, he realized that that would be exactly the wrong thing to say ... and that her not trying would probably lead to more trouble than her actually trying. "But you are ..." He hesitated, trying to find the right word. "... an exception?" Tanny's voice dropped to a whisper. "I can, yes. Water and Fire, as you saw. That makes me Tainted at the eyes of the Clan." "Were you exiled because of that?" She winced, but still nodded. "Partially. I was considered a Rebel... but I know they never forgot Myrienne's Blood. I'm Tainted... and... Abomination." Tanny was suddenly interrupted by a loud series of sounds – and not exactly friendly ones at that, although it was hard to tell. “Ti’karianno allaren’ka fer’neyia aramannis si’tareno!” Both of them raised heads towards the sound. It reverberated in their minds and ears, and Tanny shuddered. "I don't have a clue what that means, but I can say it sounds pretty much dangerous...." In one fluent movement, Stephen grabbed his staff and got up, facing the way the sound came from. Tanny was a mere fraction behind him with a muttered “Now what?” When she saw the angry tribe coming up the path she and Stephen had followed before, she added, “Those don’t look very friendly.” “Perhaps it’d be a good idea to use that fire to singe some fur?” Taking a step back, followed by Stephen, Tanny replied, “And give them another reason to trample us?” “From the sounds of it, one more reason won’t make that much of a difference. Though if you prefer, you could try throwing your temperament at them … They’ve been quite reverential so far … perhaps if they see that they’re angering us they’ll reconsider?" Muttering under her breath about having to do all the hard work, Tanny took a firm step forward, conjured up her angriest frown and raised her voice. “Stop this madness right now! First you welcome us with ceremonies, then you try to blast our minds, and then you’re going to trample us? What kind of hospitality is this?! Bad kitties!” At hearing those last words, Stephen had to conjure up every shred of self-control to turn his back to the tribe in a stately, seemingly offended manner. He could only hope that none of them were behind him where they could see the broad grin he was unable to suppress. Tanny didn't turn her back to the "bad kitties", even though she wished she could — having to control a giggling fit while keeping an angry face only made her headache worse. Which, in a way, helped her to keep her angry face. The tribe stopped, quite baffled by this unexpected reaction. Perhaps these two were Spirits after all — certainly an ordinary intruder would be scared at the sight of Firtang; for, on the rare occasions that the Clan got worked up and angry, it was a fearsome sight. “Well?” The sound was almost a bark as Tanny tapped her foot on the ground impatiently. Upon seeing this, the tribe collectively took a few steps back. Even the Mad One, who had been so convinced that these two were not real Spirits, was taken aback. Amareyha alone took two steps forward, bowed, and said something in her language that didn’t sound quite as threatening. Upon hearing this, Stephen, who had managed to pull himself together again, turned around, carefully keeping a straight face for fear of bursting out laughing. When Tanny added a nod to Amareyha, the Sh’ren sighed with audible relief. The priestess turned around to face the tribe and started walking away. The tribe parted for her and followed – all of them quite eager to get away from the angry Spirits. The "angry Spirits", meanwhile, had a hard time containing themselves long enough to make sure that the last of the tribe had left. When they couldn't anymore, both of them burst out laughing, leaning against each other to stop them from falling down. "Bad kitties," Stephen hiccoughed, "don't ever do that again if you want me to stay serious." When they'd finally calmed down, Stephen started searching the clearing, chuckling, "For some reason I can almost imagine you saying that to Mynx ..." Tanny chuckled, trying hard to avoid a new fit of laughter. "I did say that some times to that kitty... and actually, these felinoids are starting to remind me more and more of Mynx in a bad day... " It didn't take him long to find the plant he needed and take a few of its leaves. Not much later, he'd brewed some tea that he handed to Tanny. "It'll be very bitter and it won't make it go away completely, but it's the only plant I could find here that would do something about your headache." Tanny thanked Stephen with a relieved sigh, and sipped the tea. That was followed by sudden spluttering and coughing, and when she finally recovered her senses enough to breathe, she had to shout at Stephen. "Ok, ok, I'm alright! Stop pounding my back like bread dough, you crazy Ranger!!" Stephen chuckled and patted Tanny's back a little more gently a few times for good measure. "I warned you ... did it help?" "Incredibly enough, yeah, the headache is gone... it probably got scared away by the taste of your concoction!" ::I really wonder why you are not a wizard. You can for sure work with malodorous potions and smells, so half the learning is already done!:: The sudden change in mood that she felt from their mindlink told Tanny that he didn't exactly take that as a compliment.

[OOC : Co-written with Blby, who made a great writing partner![/ooc] ~~~~ Blby sighed and crawled out of his necromancer costume, and leaving it where it was curled up next to it, under a sidetable. This was just too frustrating. He'd gotten eliminated and thrown out of the other game and his costume wasn't any good and it was just too much. He let out a sad little meep and curled up tighter. Passing by the Conservatory to see if anything interesting was going on or would be going on in the near future, Venefyxatu thought he saw some movement under one of the tables. Since he vaguely remembered there had been some sort of ninja stealth sprite infestation he decided to check it out - after all, those things had apparently been quite a bother to get rid of. To his surprise and relief, instead of ninja stealth sprites, he found a guinea pig that had arrived only recently with what seemed to be some sort of costume ... Blby was just settling in for a good pout when he heard a noise. Wiggle jump, scurry? His body lengthened with excitement and emotion. Who was it and what did they want? Were they stopping here by accident or was the person stopping here to see him. Stick head out and risk being caught by a hawk? Better to stay under the table for a moment. Still, the body was taut and curious and the whiskers sniffed the air. Finally it occured to Blby to speak "Hello?" Smiling slightly, Venefyxatu looked down from where the voice had come. When he saw nothing, he looked a little more carefully and saw the whiskers sticking out from under the tablecloth. "Talking whiskers ... how fascinating. Hello there." What to do? Where to go? Friendliness! Speak (not hide?) No, speak. Feeling vulnerable! A small black streak scuttled, fast as it could, out from under the table and zoomed up the leg of a nearby terminator suit. He dodged under its cloak and up, into the head. The eyes lit up and a small black whiskery nose came out." Squea.....I mean, hello!" Venefyxatu frowned briefly, then blinked. He blinked again, and took another look at the terminator suit. That was the most interesting way he'd ever seen for a small creature to move around. "Erm ... that's a nice ... suit ... you have there?" "Well, I'm a rather little guy, and I'm trying to be a necromancer. But, I don't think small things tend to be all that intimidating. How bad does this look? Should I go to the Halloween party like this or curl up under a table? ... "I don't" talking too much, stop, hide....trying to be social "I don't mean to sulk, just I'm not sure. eEEep?" "Hmmm ... Do you want me to be honest?" He assumed the brief wigglefuss meant yes. "Well ... it could probably use a little work, but that doesn't mean you need to hide, you know. Besides, I've seen a lot of scary small things ..." Blby shivered slightly still not running, talking, extended conversation, quite proud of myself really "Small and scary? I might like to be small and scary. I tend to be small and easily ignored. I'm too nervous to scare anything. Would it help if my cloak were red not black?" *Blby flashes the eyes of his suit again and lowers the voice slightly. "But were you impressed by the costume, and could you tell that I am a"...he paused for effect.... a Necromancer!" When Blby announced his costume in such a dramatic manner, Venefyxatu took a step backwards. When he replied, it was impossible to tell from his voice whether he was being serious ... "Really? So you're the one I saw earlier - I half expected an army of skeletons and zombies to follow you, too." Blby preened and fattened happily. "Really? Now if I could just find some!" He took a few steps in his costume, perhaps trying to skip. The steps did echo, but their stumbling stride rather spoiled the effect. With unexpected speed, Venefyxatu moved aside to avoid the skipping terminator costume. "Perhaps we could make you look like one? I'm sure it would look perfect with your black cloak, too." look like what? an army of zombies? funny, but surely not. He probably means make me look like a necromancer....Damn, maybe I don't already. Still, this dude is pretty creepy. I bet he's good. "You can make me look like a real necromancer? *Blby dashed in circles for a moment inside the terminator head, occasionally scurrying over the microphone* "I'd love that!!" wheee! I wonder if necromancers eat lettuce "Like a real necromancer ... well ... we're not always very scary you know. I was more thinking along the lines of a zombie, or a ghost. Or maybe a skeleton." He got an idea and paused briefly. "Hey, have you seen the Death of Rats?" speedy, whisker twitchThe skeleton rat? He's very cool! "How about we dress you up as him?" Blby wiggled. "SQUEAK" Oh funfunfun! Suddenly grinning, Venefyxatu added, "And perhaps we could dress him up as you, although that might take just a little more convincing. Perhaps if you'd borrow him one of your suits?" "You might tell him not to bring the tangerine cannon next time. It was rather disturbing." "Hmm ... you make a good point there. I'll make sure to tell him that. Would you like to try out your new costume?" "Umm, squeak, how would you make me look like a bony rat? I mean I still want to keep my flesh." The Nether mage answered with another grin, "Don't worry - I do more with my magic than walking around raising armies of undead. Let's start by making everything that's not your skeleton invisible?" "You walk around with armies of undead?!!" HIdeRUN! Do undead fit under tables? The suit ran around the room in clear terror and then paused in the doorway. Panting sounds came from the microphone. It was hard to contain his laughter, and he didn't quite succeed. "No, not here at least ... there's nothing interesting to conquer here." "Please please please don't bring an army to the party. I promise there will be nothing to conquer. You can even have my suit if you want. Just don't conquer me!" That was too much - Venefyxatu started laughing outright. "Don't worry little one - I wouldn't fit inside your suit. Also, unless something goes very, very wrong, which I've never known to happen, no armies will invade this place." Then, with a snicker he added, "Or conquer its residents." Blby, nodded meekly, a funny gesture on a guinea pig. "Then I guess I would like to go as the Death of Rats. By the way, since you control skeletons and he's a skeleton, could you control him? "Hah; I doubt he'd let me! If you like I can try to control you, but something tells me you'd prefer it if I didn't. Now, if you'll wait here for a few moments, I think I have something for you." With that, Venefyxatu opened a quick portal and stepped through. There were some rummaging sounds from the other side, after a while followed by a muffled "A-ha! I knew I had one." Moments later, he returned and closed the portal behind him. "Would you be willing to step onto my hand?" Blby watched the proceedings in semi-shock "This is all happening rather fast don't you think" he muttered to himself as Venefyxatu disappeared. He scurried into his suit and returned moments later with some hay. calm peace, chew, chew, chew. No hawks here, just a real live scary necromancer who doesn't have any armies of zombies. But,.... suddenly a thought popped into Blby's head and when Venefyxatu returned to the room he saw Blby running in circles on the rug squeaking madly "He could control me! he could control me!" "Don't worry ... I'm not going to take you anywhere unless you tell me to. Which would make you control me I guess." Blby shook himself when he saw the shadow of the necromancer return. "Step onto your hand? Ooo..okay, but please don't pick me up. It's VERY upsetting.” Venefyxatu lowered his hand for the small rodent and held still as Blby walked on, trembling violently from head to toe, but not running or hiding anywhere "I won't pick you up ... this will just make it easier to do the magic. Just relax and hold still." Deciding it would probably be best for Blby's nerves if he didn't compare it to using fairy dust of dead fairies, the Nether mage calmly started moving his free hand in circles over the guinea pig, leaving a soft glow in the air where his fingertips passed. With a few softly muttered words, he made a gesture as though he was pulling something upwards, upon which most of Blby spontaneously became transparent, leaving only his skeleton visible. "There you go ... you can step off again if it's more comfortable." Blby pondered all of this “So now I just need a small scythe. Maybe even an Almost Draconic one would do. I'm told that they don't work, but I don't need it to work ... Thank you so much! Are you going to this party?" At the mentioning of an Almost Dragonic product, Venefyxatu became even more pale than he already was. "Erm ... I hate to do this to Wyvern, but I would advise against Almost Dragonic products. Remember I had something for you?" When Blby produced another nod, Venefyxatu took something from one of his pockets. It appeared to be a small scythe that looked almost like that of a certain skeleton rat. "This was once given to me as being a replica of the scythe of Death himself. I'm still not sure whether it's true, but I kept it anyway ..." "Wow, and I can borrow it? I wonder if it's magical"! A guinea pig set of bones did a leap into the air at the thought of this. "Chirpchiprchirp!" "Feel free to use it as long as you need."

"OOooooooooohhh... shiny!" Tanny giggled and pointed at the spear in Peredhil's hand, the movement jerking Patham almost off his perch on her arm. "Pretty and totally, like, shiny... soooooo bright too!" Her eyes examined the ring, and she promptly scampered towards Peredhil. "Ooh no you won't!" Mynx tugged at Tanny's tail. "I will not be stuck here! I think the Blood Countess needs a dance!" She brightened, and followed Tanny towards Peredhil. Tanny giggled, then slapped Mynx' rump again, hissing, "Your tail! Can't you ever remember that? And don't stalk like a cat, you have to walk slowly and regally!" Mynx' glare sent Tanny in a fit of giggling, to which Mynx promptly replied, "Higher pitch, and louder! You're too contained for CheerMynx, dearie...." Patham hooted, not completely happy at being constantly jerked around, but he had to admit that it was a good way to awake completely. He was sure that he could have thought of something fun to do, if only he could wake up properly... Tanny rolled her eyes, and then gave Mynx a bright smile. "Kitty dear, I think I have just the perfect dancing partner for you...." With a toothy grin and a complete disregard for Mynx' suddenly suspicious look, Tanny tugged at a familiar link in the back of her mind. ::Stephen! Wake up, you lazy Ranger! I have something fun for you to do!:: She felt the grumbling, then Stephen Hascodem answered in a hiss, ::Wolf-Lady, you have just managed to make me jump and scare a most interesting rabbit away!:: ::What, are you now hunting rabbits for dinner in the Pen grounds?!:: ::I was trying to study its habits!:: ::Since when you study rabbits? Oh nevermind, Stephen... grab a White Rabbit costume and come to the Conservatory!:: ::Have you got any idea how many rabbits that would take? Not to mention converting them into a costume? I'll be there in a month or so ...:: The silence that came back over their mindlink was enough to make Stephen forget his irritation at the interruption and make him chuckle. Curious about what Tanny was up to, he decided he'd follow her advice ... somewhat. Since he didn't have a white rabbit costume lying around and he wasn't about to actually take a month to create one, he'd have to come up with something different. After pondering for a little while, an idea struck him and he got up to gather some branches. When he had what he wanted, he made his way to Tanny's cottage and pillaged it for some more items. When he'd put on the ragged clothes and tied two sticks to his legs to keep them stiff, he swore softly, realizing that he'd forgotten one minor detail. It was physically impossible for him to tie a stick behind his back to his own arms ... Thinking this through a little he came up with a different plan. He put the carved pumpkin on his head, took off the shirt again, put one of the sticks he had left through the sleeves and tied it perpendicular to another one, after which he tied it to his torso behind his back. This took some minor acrobatics and several attempts, but in the end he succeeded. When he finally somehow managed to get his arms through the sleeves without tearing the shirt further he heaved a sigh of relief. "Next time she wants me to dress up she'll have to do it herself ..." With these muttered words he started making his way to the Conservatory. As soon as Stephen stepped into the Conservatory, Tanny bounced over to him. He couldn't as much see her as hear... and he was pretty startled at what he heard. "Hiiiiii ranger!! It's so totally cool for you to be here! And see, you are in, like, such totally cute costume! Are you the Great Pumpkin that comes on Halloween?? Awww... so totally inspiring, you need just some cute little dog like Snoopy to so totally rock!!" Stephen blinked and coughed. "T-t-tanny?! What did they do to you?" ::C'mon, Ranger... of course it's me... just have a bit of fun, huh?:: Tanny giggled in his mind, thankfully like herself and not the cheerleader she was supposedly faking, which made Stephen a tiny bit calmer. He heard Mynx approaching, and in his mind Tanny described her costume. He would have stared at the countess-clad cat if he could, but he got a good idea from Tanny's deliberately funny description. A soft 'hoot' told Stephen that Patham was also there, and from the specific tone of the hooting he wasn't completely enjoying his costume... which seemed to be connected to the CheerWolf bouncing with him firmly secured by the bright pink jesses. "Oh Ranger you'll so totally love the dancing! The Bloody Countess here so totally rocks in her, like, totally pretty dress!" Mynx growled softly as Tanny tugged her arm and hissed for her ears only, "Stop trying to smooth your dress, it is perfect! And do not stalk, I've already told you that!" Stephen figured that Tanny's suggestion wasn't half bad - dancing with Mynx would, while uncomfortable due to the sticks, at least get him away from a suddenly very bouncy and giggle wolf pretending to be a blonde cat. With a bow towards where he could sense Mynx, he asked, "Lady Countess, shall we dance?" Moments later, they were dancing away ... Mynx quite gracefully, if somewhat restricted by the dress, and Stephen ... well ... scarecrows really don't dance too well ...

Whisper, whisper. Whisperwhisper whisper. Whisper. Whisperwhisper? Whisper! The tablecloth on one of the tables moved, and the Weasley twins crawled out from under it. Staggering slightly, they tried to make their way through the crowd, giggling every time they bumped into someone, which happened quite frequently. At one point, they thought they heard someone calling out for them, but they ignored it, continuing to stagger through the crowd to the mysterious door where people had to go through. “What game do you think it is?” “Idonno ... hide 'n seek?” Once at the door, one of them knocked, after which both of them chimed, “Found you!” "Mrmphhh! Mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm!" the muted voice coming from the closet was unmistakebly their dad's. "Daddy!" one of the twins went, "Look what we found!" the other continued, lifting her champagne glass high above her head and spilling half of it on the carpet. Both of them erupted in giggles as the liquid soaked into the expensive looking carpet. "We should get another of these," the twin pointed at her half-empty glass. "This is way too much fun!" A muffled sound of worried protest came through the door, but the twins didn't quite hear it as they were making their way back to the drinks table. They were almost there when their path was crossed by a woman who strongly reminded them of a cat. “Kitty ...” “... cat!” “Catch us ...” “... if you can!” The twins ran around a group of grownups and then ducked underneath the nearest table. The first one of them climbed out on the other side, and the other tried following, but miscalculated and lifted up too soon, pushing the table over, sending expensive sushi and red wine tumbling down the other side. Giggling they both ducked under another table. OOC : Venefyxatu votes for Cryptomancer/Jimmy Patrick votes for Ozy/Kelly The post was written together with Patrick. The votes are our own

Relax, we have all the time in the world. Although that might be the necromancer side speaking up

I don't think I have a reputation for giving much feedback (if I do, it's undeserved ), but making this information more visible does sound like a good idea. As for how to display it : I'm okay with most choices, except for user-chosen words; while I'm sure this would result in very creative and interesting information, not all of it would be very useful in terms of deriving what feedback is desired. This would result in people still having to check the profile... I chose a default of "No feedback", keeping in mind that it's better to go too soft on someone than too harsh; feelings are hurt (too) easily. "Gentle feedback only" would be a good default choice as well. Come to think of it, that would be a better default choice - not getting any response whatsoever might be off-putting as well. Perhaps I should learn to think before deciding As for a different level for every style : I doubt I'd use it since I stick with roleplay / stories anyway and prefer the same level of feedback for both. However, I can imagine that someone who usually writes, say, stories, but wants to try their hand at poetry would want a more gentle level of feedback for something they're not used to writing. There, that's two-and-a-half cent

(OOC : Co-written with Patrick - who makes a great like-minded twin! ) When they entered the room, quite a crowd had gathered already. The eyes of the twins grew wide at the multitude of wonderful costumes, but they couldn't suppress a soft “ooo” when they saw the richly laden table. “Polly want ...” one of them started, “... a cracker?” the other one finished and both of them erupted in giggles. With an admonition from their father to be careful, the “Weasley” twins were set loose in the room. Both of them started to head for the buffet, and both of them were almost immediately distracted when someone in a ninja-pirate costume snuck up behind them to yell “YARR!! Ye two'll walk the plank!” "Want to blast him George?" one of them asked, her voice forcedly deep, while the reply came even before the question was finished, "Expelliarmus!" the other twin yelled, and simultaneously her sister yanked the cutlass from the ninjapirate's hand and threw it into the air, giggling. Of course, neither of them had expected a necromancer standing behind them. When said magician got hit in the arm by the flying cutlass, evoking an eep-ishly sounding shriek and sending the weapon bouncing back to the original owner, the two twins let out a surprised “eep” as well. Not wanting to tangle with more powerful mages than themselves, they each darted off in the opposite direction. Circling round the large banquet table, the two twins met again on the other side, their minds yet again on the food and far from necromancers and pirates. Delicious looking bowls of dessert and sweets glared at them. With a glance they ascertained that their father wasn't looking and dug in.

I just read this in a Dutch gaming magazine and felt it would be something nice to share with all of you. Keep in mind that it's been translated into Dutch first, and then translated back into English, so it's probably not a verbatim quote Attributed to Tim Schafer (of Grim Fandango and Psychonauts fame), who talked about writer's block, scrapping ideas that end up not working, dealing with criticism, and originality on the Games Convention Developers Conference in Leipzig last August. I left out a few bits that are not relevant to writing, but made sure to keep the meaning intact "Inspiration is is like a chicken that lays golden eggs, and the only thing you can do is follow it, feed it and hope that it breeds ideas. You can't force it in a certain direction [...]. I think that if your brain tells you you need a new idea, you need to listen to it [...]. It's a war, and the enemies are ... [...] mediocrity, laziness and fear, and those can be found inside us all."

Out on the graveyard, Venefyxatu pulled a feather from one of his pockets with a chuckle, letting it drift away on the wind ... OOC : Link goes to the result of the Necromancer's sense of humour ... one more post from a surprised Wolf-Lady should wrap that up at least ... the mess is for the rest of you guys

OOC : This is Tanny and I having some fun wrapping up our characters' presence in Blby's Greetings thread. It was sufficiently detached from the rest of that thread to warrant being posted separately, but it's probably not a bad idea to head over there first --- Tanny blinked at the feathers all around herself, even sneezing a bit while her hand grabbed the nearest branch. She swore at the sense of humor of nether mages in general, and of a Venefyxatu in particular, before poking Stephen. The ranger grunted, and Tanny frowned and poked his side harder, none too pleased at finding herself perching on a tree. I'm not a bird! Vene could at least have noticed the difference between Patham and I! When Stephen woke up, the first thing he felt was a poke. It was closely followed by a headache that quickly made way for another headache. The fourth thing he felt was, upon closer inspection, another headache. After lying still for a little while to prevent the headaches from getting worse, it dawned on him that there were branches underneath him, apparently quite a lot. From this, he deduced that he was not on terra firma. A few more moments of pondering his way around multiple headaches made him realize that the last thing he remembered was being under terra firma; more specifically in the Mighty Pen's Mighty Wince Cellar. Very mighty indeed ... After lying still for a little while longer, wondering how long it had been, he decided to risk moving. Immediately after trying, he wished he hadn't ... apparently a certain Wolf-Lady was also no longer on terra firma and was none too pleased with him. If this was what the married men back home were always complaining about, it only reinforced his joy at having ... left. No good to dwell on that right now though ... or to dwell on anything, for that matter. With a muttered “You go on without me” to a very ruffled and befeathered Wolf-Lady, he let himself drift back to sleep.

Strange vibrations in the air reached the creature. Experimentally, if such a word could be used for something that was barely self-aware, it tried to reproduce a few. "Ptang zoo," followed by the sound of a footstep.

It's not just known as the Time of Madness, but also as the NaNoWriMo. Those of you who need a reminder are hereby warned Last year did teach me something, so this year I'm joining in with An (almost) empty calendar Mental preparation Preparation on paper An idea for a plot that has more thought put into it than last year's An almost, but not quite, more or less, not entirely, junk-free desk.* The start of an outline (if I don't watch out I'll end up becoming ... *gasp* ... structured) The last two weeks of November off. Yay for holidays! And catching-up-time, of course! * Who am I kidding? It's got some available space at this moment, but there's no chance in Hell that'll last more than a week ...

Molly Gray is one of Dan Gray's 13 year-old twin daughters. To prevent confusion, most people just call her Ollie. She has red, curly hair reaching to her shoulders and green eyes that provide a nice contrast to the hair. She has freckles, making her look like a typical little Irish girl. Whenever she starts a sentence her twin-sister finishes it and vice-versa. The two of them are nigh-inseperable. She will be going in a costume of Fred Weasley of Harry Potter fame. Or George Weasley. She and her sister haven't been able to decide who gets who yet.

Venefyxatu regained his self-control after raising his hands mere centimeters. Instead of striking his desk in irritation, he merely sighed - a sigh that was loaded with all the irritation of hours of research going poorly. As if that wasn't enough, there was also the sound of a whole lot of crying babies drifting in through his window. After closing his eyes for a few moments to compose himself, he got up, grabbed his staff and opened a portal to a world he'd discovered on one of his travels. As soon as he stepped through, he let the portal vanish, wanting to be completely alone. The world was a deserted planet, its inhabitants aeons dead after some huge war. Their combined deaths and tortured souls had made the Nether energies particularly strong here; it was the perfect place for a Necromancer to get rid of some frustrations. Calmly putting his staff in front of him, he let go of it. It stayed hovering upright, swaying slightly as the Nether energies tried to assault it and its Verdant/Nether wards protected it. The archmage held his arms next to him, slightly away from his body, and felt the energies swirling around him, running through his fingers as though they were water. He could feel their particular taint and knew they would start burning as soon as he opened up to them. Slowly he did. He opened his mind to the energies of death and felt them trying to drag him away, trying to destroy everything he was and feed on his soul. This was the struggle he was familiar with, only with an intensity that not many other places could match. As he opened himself up further and took in more of the energies, the wailing cries of the spirits that the energies consisted of became more audible. Louder and louder they became, until it seemed as though he was at the very center of Hell itself, surrounded by millions of tortured souls. He was unaware of the fact that he was raising his hands and that any onlooker would have been able to actually see the energies flowing through him. He was also unaware of the fact that he was subconsciously redirecting the screams of the spirits to where the crying of the babies had come from - the Assembly Room of the Pen. Suddenly he clenched his hands into fists, simultaneously closing his mind again. If anything had been left standing in his surroundings, it would've been leveled right then as the Nether energies were hurled away from him in all directions. The silent explosion also cut short the wailing spirits, immediately halving the noise levels in the Assembly Room as Venefyxatu staggered forward, grabbing his staff for support. He summoned the strength to open another portal back and collapsed on his bed, exhausted but with his mind cleared.

I'm in as an evil super-size spider. My costume : the CTO Wait ... there's something wrong with that. I think. As soon as I figure out what it is, I'll come up with a real character

OOC: Thanks for cowriting, Tanny After congratulating Whiskey, Venefyxatu moved over to Tanuchan, carefully picking his way in between the splattered tangerines. "Tanuchan ... I see that you've mostly managed to avoid the ... shall we call it a Pennite Pyramid?" Tanny grimaced, and shook herself heartily. Then she sat down and shifted back to human form, making sure first that there was no tangerines around her - or even the shadow of tangerines, since she couldn't avoid the smell. "I'm not so sure I escaped it.... " She accepted Venefyxatu's hand and stood up. "Where is that obnoxious drunk ranger now?" She surveyed the room, sighing. "Well ... the only drunk person I've seen in here looks like he's decided the floor is the most interesting place of the room all of a sudden ..." That made Tanny scan the floor, and she chuckled as she located her drunk friend trying to make himself one with the floor. :: Stephen, this is ridiculous... you can't even say that you're trying to listen to something by glueing your ear to the ground... C'mon, get up. :: :: I'm up .. you're left ... I think ...:: Not quite aware of their mental link, but feeling some energy being manipulated, Venefyxatu frowned briefly and readied a few guards. It was probably nothing, especially here at the Pen, but better safe than sorry ... "It looks like he doesn't intend to go anywhere soon ... would you need some help moving him?" "Hmmm..." Tanny looked at Stephen, shook her head, and then looked at Venefyxatu. "Yes, I think I do. I can't possibly lift that log-like drunk silly ranger. At most, I could try to truss him up with vines and just drag him to the left... since he thinks he's up." A hesitant voice came from the ground, "There'sss no need f'r dragging. Or dragon. Almost." It didn't quite seem to know how to go on, so it just trailed off, probably because the owner was wondering what he'd been saying. Shaking her head, Tanny just looked helplessly at the nether mage. "I'm no expert, he's too alive for that, but I do believe he could do with some rest. Do you know a suitable place where we could leave him?" "Couldn't we just leave him where he is? That would teach him not to get drunk ..." "Hmm ... I'm afraid he's going to be in the way there. Can you visualise his resting place?" Tanny sighed, but then a slow, wicked grin appeared in her lips. "Sure... there..." She thought hard in a special resting place. Venefyxatu concentrated on trying to pick up Tanny's idea of a place for Stephen to rest. After a few moments, he started to see it in front of him and closed his eyes to make it more clear. Frowning briefly at her odd choice, and then chuckling inwardly as his strange sense of humour gave him an idea, he also thought of a bunch of feathers he had in his study. It didn't take long for him to conjure up the spell and make his mind fall in line with it - softly muttering the words and delicately weaving his fingers to guide him through. When it was done, both Tanuchan and Stephen were gone from the Cabaret Room... and the feathers were no longer in his study, either... A few very surprised birds flew up from the oak in the Courtyard when all of a sudden a half-asleep ranger and a most surprised shapechanger appeared a few branches below them. The nest-like branches were exactly the place Tanny had had in mind - although she hadn't quite visualised the feathers drifting down around them ... Chuckling softly to himself, Venefyxatu left the Cabaret Room to go and meditate on the little graveyard in the forest surrounding the keep ...

Just when he was done staggering about a room that seemed to be trying to get away from him in all directions at once, someone yelled into Stephen's ear. This was just a bit more than the ranger's sensitive hearing could handle, so he scrambled away, stumbling into the table, the researcher, the almost dragon, another table, two chairs, an owlperson, and finally the floor. For now, he decided it might be safest if he just stayed there ... What was with all the tangerine smell, anyway?

Stephen giggled rather un-Stephen-like. "Isfunnytoo! C'mere Wuffie!" Giving the squeezed Tanny a hug, he staggered more or less upright and, grabbing his staff, started feeling around for what the tangerine smell was all about. Due to his drunkenness, however, this didn't happen as calmly as it usually would - some shins were banged, in between the staff being used for support. One of the Guinea pigs in The Researcher's pockets was probably less than pleased when something heavy briefly stumbled into said scientist, either ... "Whee?"