Pillow

Happy fairly late b-day!

*Don't worry, Pilocanci doesn't hold a grudge over something like that. He will correct you, but that's it*

Pilocanci the Unholy (known jokingly by Pennites sometimes as Pillow) stares oddly at being referred to as a 'she'. 'Obviously,' he thought,' this person has no idea on how to tell male and female Sharpiens apart'.

*Walks in, observes the situation, then decides that it would be better to leave well enough alone*

I want to be an insane ego maniac!

 

Wait...I already am insane and Black will do whatever he wants so I am an ego maniac...

 

I tried and I did it;)

Ah, but are you criminally insane? Do you eat crayons and roll your poo into little balls or kill off productive members of society? If you're going to take over the world, you have to be specific. I don't want an oppressive dictator that babbles without killing someone or stomping on my civil rights a bit.

Someone watches Family Guy.

Sorry, need something that had once had blood pressure.

Just felt like saying yay. Please resume your usual routine.

*sits back and munches popcorn while watching the fun and games*

wasmybottle, damn you! My ... heehhhh ...

 

...

 

 

...

 

 

bottle!

 

*shakes fist*

 

Sorry Vene, just went with the random vote. Still, what is all this aggresion against Tor? What is that about?

"At least that's less water gone to waste," Tor said to himself. He lended on a rock at the mouth of the cave and watched the sands sway to and fro in the desert winds. He knew in the back of his mind that there were several that distrusted him. He didn't blame them. From what he had seen, Harkonnens where good at spreading the paranoia that caused people to turn on one another. Shaking his head, he walked over the other Fremen. He sensed a bit of distrust from them as he approached. Mildly suprised, he asked,"Did I do something wrong?"

Rahnia glared at him,"I don't know. Maybe giving the stillsuit to an off-worlder might have something to do with it."

Tor raised an eyebrow at the Fremen woman,"It wasn't me that gave an off-worlder a stillsuit. There's no way that I trust any of them with something like that." he waved his hand in the direction of the others as he spoke. "As far as I'm concerned, with the exception of Captian Algers; are as good as Harkonnen."

"Blasted Harkonnens," Tor spat. He had a feeling that there might have been a spy among them. He remembered back to the attack the day before. He had discovered two Harkonnens in disguise coordenating the artilliry barrage and subsequent attack. He had taken great pleasure in slaying those two. Mentally, he evaluated who the Harkonnen be. He immediately waived off the possibility of the other Fremens. The off-worlder seemed the likely canidate. He was unaccounted for during the night. He could have been exploring, but the cave wasn't quite that big. Plus his drunken apperance could have been an act. After all, where the hell did he get the alcohol? Tor decided to keep an eye on him.

OCC: Vene/Edi *just going with the flow.*

Sorry fellas, I'm too busy with SOCOM 3 right now to play World of War-crack.

Tor examined the cave's deeper alcoves. Rumor had it that there was a cache of stolen Harkonnen weapons were stashed somewhere within the cave. If he could locate the cache then the refugees could be armed and give the group a better chance of surivial. After almost an hour of searching, he found a small trap door in the floor. Removing the lid to the cache, it revealed a few dozen various arms and ammunition. With a smile, he replaced the lid and made his way back to Captian Algers to report his find.

Tor Salvis is a Fremen scout just above two meters high and of lanky build. He is a seasoned vetern of the dunes and knows them well. Though shrewed, he is a loyal ally to anyone who proves themselves worthy.

I, too, shall have to sit this one out. University is tightening its rein on me. Take heart, though; this is my last semester!

Then we can have you all to ourselves! Yay!

I'll play. Give me a bit to get a character.

It doesn't matter what country it's in; it's a nearly universal practice.

Welcome to the wonderful world of the price-hike! Yes, establishments do this because they gain a much bigger profit for basically the same thing you get for a family re-union *which is what I would have said because I'm a cheap bastard*. The US is the same way in many areas. Not only that, but they like to fish-gut you with holiday hikes and location expenses. If a hotel finds out that another hotel is booked up for an event, up goes the price! Sorry to hear that you guys are the victim of this. It sucks, but apart from starting a Communist revolution, what can you do?

People know, but I really don't share much of my work. I have to push myself very hard to finish anything, so there aren't many finished products for them to look over yet. *sigh* Maybe some day.

Wyvern tacks a long list of party activities near the Cabaret Room door, watching as the sheet unravels itself and rolls into the hallway for all to see. The overgrown lizard grins at the tribute to Salinye's once-vibrant Pen activity, then steps between the words "Chocolate Mud Wrestling" and "Choir Concert" as he rolls a hooded baby carriage into the room. The overgrown lizard pauses, then sticks a party whistle into his mouth and blows it in a high-pitched screech just as someone slips over the paper in the hall. He then opens the hood of the carriage, revealing a cake with pen-shaped candles and the words "Happy Birthday Salinye" scrawled in uneven whipped cream.

 

*Ahem*

 

Wyvern takes out a sheet of paper from his front pocket and a pair of spectacles, then clears his throat and speaks in an elegent tone.

 

"In consistancy with Salinye's wonderful past Pen projects, I shall now 'Adopt a Style' and wish her the happiest of days in the style of 50 Cent's book From Pieces to Weight: Once Upon a Time in Southside Queens O.K, hereitgoes."

 

Wyvern closes his eyes and takes a deep breath, then tosses off his spectacles along with his shirt and breaks into a jig.

 

"GO SHAWTY! IT'S YA BIRTHDAY! IT'S YA BIRTHDAY (IhopeIdon'tgetshotforthis)!"

 

;-)

 

OOC: A very Happy Birthday to you, Salinye. And for the record: no, I didn't actually read that book. ;-p

*Pilocanci the Unholy walks in with a squad of Sharpeins in Warlord Assualt armor and armed with PX-12 shock rifles. The troops form a line and aim their weapons at Wyvern, a dozen aiming lasers danced over the almost dragon's body. Pilocanci raised his arm and ordered,"Ready...Aim...Taser!!!" A dozen small prongs fire from the barrels, hitting Wyvern in the chest and stomach. A moment later, a paralizing surge of electrical energy pusled through his body, not hurting him, but preventing him from moving save for involentary twitches and spasms. While the Sharpiens had fun with Wyvern, Pilocanci left Salinye a small plastic crate. Inside of the box was a Universal Atlas; a magical item that was confisacted from a group of rouge wizards in the northern proviences. The Universal Atlas was said to reveal the location of any large cluster of magical energy in the universe*

*OCC: Happy B-day, Salinye! Hope is a good one.

Little time to read,

Less time to post,

Bottom line:

While I'm still here,

I am a Gryphon Ghost!

Cute poem

I'm mostly lurking. Like H. P. Lovecraft, I'm getting picky with my writing. That's why I haven't posted much. That and my poker obsession. Just wanted to let everyone know that I'm alright.

Jason

WELLINGTON, New Zealand - A group of 40 people dressed in Santa Claus costumes, many of them drunk, rampaged through New Zealand’s largest city, robbing stores and assaulting security guards, police said Sunday.

The rampage, dubbed “Santarchy” by local newspapers, began early Saturday afternoon when the men, wearing ill-fitting Santa costumes, threw beer bottles and urinated on cars from an Auckland overpass, said Auckland Central Police spokeswoman Noreen Hegarty.

She said the men then rushed through a central city park, overturning garbage containers, throwing bottles at passing cars and spraying graffiti on buildings.

Isn't that your neck of the woods, Mynx?