Sweetcherrie

That was fast... and I really liked playing DJ... Oh well, better next time...at least Mary and DJ are together now

OOC: You didn’t have titles for all of them so I’ve just taken them in order I love it, simple…but oh so true… I think this one is less good than the one before….I do like the image of the first stanza, and thinking that this was actually when you were somewhere around 14 years old (?) makes me feel I’d better stop talking now… Woah, you’re a wordpainter, and that at that age…trains, man I wish I could let them ride out sometimes… Hmm…not too fond of this one…I can see what you wanted to describe but somehow it feels like it didn’t come across…but then maybe that’s just me… Oof, fear of having to let go, while still having it, at the same time knowing that all is temporal…belief that it has to end, because how could something so beautifull go on…*gives you a late hug for this one* I’m glad that those 10 seconds never existed… If the mountain ends you’ll just have to find a new one…or maybe start discovering the sea, I’ve heard it’s pretty… Nope, it will not…and I sure hope that the feelings in this one have changed…at least a little *sighs* I couldn’t agree more…

woohooo I can be an animal....a party animal :woot: yes keep an eye on that upcoming Carnival people, some great stuff coming up

OOC: Appy, thank you so much, very valid comments, both of them and immediately agreed upon....so the new version with changes, below...oh, added some commas as well... *huggles firmly* shade in the shadows confirm my existence, please? don’t turn your back, nor tell me that life sucks Cause if I’m not seen By the eyes of others? …your eyes… Then am I still here? there? Where? Does my arrogance tell me lies? when it tells me to hold on, am I really supposed to …let go? Does my memory hold the truth? When it tells me to let go, Am I really supposed to …hold on? Shade in the shadows Non-existent Back turned Life sucks

Sorry Dragonqueen, random numbers decided that I would vote for you.... and luckily enough, you had a very nice reason in your sign up, thanks for that

With a start DJ woke up. He looked around to see what had caused the noise he had just heard, and saw Irene walking around in between the gardens. The girl was mumbling to herself, and DJ made sure that he silently crawled out of sight. “Man, I hope they’ll open up that door now. Life is waaay boring here. I can’t believe how some people have lived here all their lives, buncha stupids.” Irene bent over to pick something from the floor, but DJ couldn’t see what it was. The girl disappeared and DJ was left with his own thoughts. He had already suspected her. Could it have been her? She had just given him a very good reason to think it had been her; Life was boring. But didn’t he think the same way? Yes, he did but the difference between them was that she was stupid enough to try to get what she wanted by murdering someone. He made up his mind; he would have to tell someone, but who? OOC: vote for Dragonqueen / Irene Taylor

The sunlight blinded her for a moment, and while she grabbed her sunglasses from her pocket, Zira, the kitten minion Mynx had given her was happily trampling along. She meowed out of joy, and was already digging herself into the sand, throwing large amounts of sand over her feet. Sweetcherrie let her play and walked over to where the kids’ entertainment tent was supposed to be. The yellow and red canvas was lying in a heap on the floor, and she frowned slightly when she saw that there wasn’t even anybody here to work on it. With a few well-aimed spells the tent would be up in no time, but she didn’t do magic, and apparently nobody else was around. With a sigh she put the notebook down, and started pulling at the canvas to get it off the frame that was underneath it. Sweat dripped down her back, but she wasn’t too worried about that, nothing a good shower wouldn’t rinse off again. Finally she managed to uncover the frame, and for a moment she felt rather discouraged. The massive pile of iron bars was not numbered nor did there seem to be any logic in the order to put them together. Sweetcherrie inhaled deeply, picked up the first part of the frame and set at work. Two hours later the frame was standing, and when she looked at her work she was rather satisfied with herself. With more hope than she had felt before she started working on getting the canvas on the frame, and after half an hour she had managed to have it lying on top of the frame. She gently pushed aside the canvas and walked inside the tent to tie it to the frame. Sweetcherrie was just about to start on the third ribbon, when she heard a soft rumbling sound. She looked around to see where it’d come from, and when she didn’t notice anything weird she walked to the next corner to tie the ribbon there as well. When she grabbed the ribbon, the tent started wobbling and with a loud WOOSH the whole thing fell down on top of her. She crawled out from under the tent, and was greeted by Zira. The kitten had obviously noticed that something was wrong, and was meowing happily that Sweetcherrie had managed to get out. The minion checked one last time to see if her friend was ok, and darted off towards the portal to get back to the meeting room. Sweetcherrie told her to wait for a moment, and looked at the yellow and red canvas lying in a heap on the floor. She now understood why the tent hadn’t been standing in the first place. Normally she was stubborn enough to give it another try, but with all the work that still needed doing, Sweetcherrie decided that the kids entertainment would be held in the open air. With her pencil she striped of the line that said “kids tent”, and with a last shake of her head she turned around and followed Zira back to the meeting room to tell everybody that the kids entertainment was as ready as it would ever be. OOC: Read and Learn Write a story or a poem that teaches a lesson to the kids, keep it in kids language as well. For example write a poem that tells children how important it is to eat vegetables, or to brush their teeth. For the first post you receive 15 geld, for all following post you receive 10 geld. There will no longer be any closing dates on this....or at least not for the moment... Post Away! and have fun Edit: The Fingerpainting has been moved here

With a notebook in her hands Sweetcherrie walked through the portal that led to the campsite terrain. Troy was following her, but his flames were not enough to light the darkness, and she was glad that she had asked Mynx and Inbi to make a small magical device. The floating torch that they had arranged for her was following her and the phoenix around, and lit other torches on the way. After a while the campsite was bathing in flickering shadows, and torchlight. The fires created a cosy atmosphere, perfect for telling some good stories. It would be the first time that the pennites were offered the possibility to stay overnight at the Carnival and she hoped that it would work. For her own tent she had already found a good pitch, and it was set up nice and sturdy. She didn’t expect any storms, but then again you never knew with the amount of mages they were expecting from the Pen. Walking along she arrived at the fireplace Inbi had created. In the middle there was a large circle of stones and in a larger circle around it there were logs of wood for people to sit on. Troy settles himself inside the ring of fire and the wood logs started burning. It would be the perfect spot for the pennites to tell their stories on the long summer evenings, and she was already looking forward to it. Stories around the fire always felt very romantic to her, and she could still remember them from her own childhood. With a neat V Sweetcherrie ticked off the box in front of “getting the fireplace ready”, and called the phoenix to go back to the meeting room. Troy looked up, but stubbornly stayed where he was. Sweetcherrie sighed, she could understand that the bird liked it in the fireplace, and would think of something at a later time to get him out. She walked back through the portal to the meeting room to tell the others that the campsite was ready to receive its first guests. OOC: This campsite will be a free flow RP. You can write down your character experiences at the carnival, and every now and then we’ll add some extra adventures to spice it up. Since the campsite is dark at all times, and only lit by the campfire and some torches it will be the perfect place to do some story telling. The stories will all have to be told IC, and need to be at least 500 words. There will be two sessions, as described below. Romantic Stories (no Scarlett Pen, rrooomaantic) These stories can be posted in between the 18th of July and the 31st of July Creepy Crawlers These stories can be posted in between the 1st of August and the 14th of August You can earn 15 geld with each story, up to 2 in each area. Edit: 5 geld for participation

The lights and music had pulled Sweet to the Conservatory Room, and she had slipped inside. The girl had watched the painting show, and if it had been up to her she would definitely have chosen the girl with all the funny colours. She now cautiously inched forward, until she was standing in front of the painting. “Hiya,” she smiled, “you remember me? I was the one that made the frog potion that turned you into a frog.” The girl didn’t wait for an answer, but continued tirelessly. “I know now what went wrong, I had obviously used the wrong herbs,” the word ‘obviously’ was said on a tone as if she herself couldn’t even believe that she’d done it wrong. “But I now know how to make proper potions, and---oooooh, you know what, wait here. I’ll go and get my magical pens.” Sweet ran out the room as fast as her legs could carry her. “Wait here?” Zool started mumbling now the girl was gone, and he finally had the possibility to talk in between her talking, “Where would I be going elsewhere? What does she think I-“ “Taddaaaa!!” Sweet had come back without him even noticing, and now stood, waving and shouting, in front of him. Zool cringed, slightly surprised that such a tiny human could make this much noise, but then looked at what she was waving in front of him. “See? These are my magical pens, and if you shuffle over a bit I’ll draw you a birthday cake and some candles to go with it.” She looked around for a chair to stand on so she could reach, and meanwhile Zool started protesting. “You know I don’t think that candles might be such a good idea..” Sweet, who was now dragging a chair in the direction of the portrait looked up. “No candles? but on a birthday cake there are supposed to be candles…but, ok, if you’re sure I’ll draw one without candles.” Zool gave a sigh of relief, and shovelled to the side to let the girl draw her birthday cake. After a while even he had to admit that it did look delicious, and that the cherries on the top of the cream looked very real. Sweet was working with the tip of her tongue sticking out, and was almost finished when she hesitated for a moment. “You know, it’s missing something. I promise this won’t hurt a bit,” She started giggling, and stuck her hand in her pocket. Hearing the words “hurt a bit” in combination with “promise” coming from Sweet’s mouth, Zool was starting to feel worried, and nervously watched her moves. Finally Sweet had found what she was looking for. With one fluent movement she pulled the stamp from her pocket, and stamped a big ACCEPTED next to the birthday cake. Sweet jumped of the chair and nodded, satisfied with her latest artwork. OOC: Happy Birthday Oh, and don't worry..Sweetcherrie has figure out by now that Sweet is playing with Wyvern's stamp, and out of precausion she has switched the original ink for self-disappearing ink....just to prevent herself from REALLY doing harm...

DJ had been nowhere near when the murder had happened, but he fully agreed with what the killer had written on the wall. He chewed on a piece of bread he had stolen from the kitchen, and wandered to the gardens. He wished he knew who it had been. That way he maybe could have prevented it; he knew that these sorts of actions would lead to nothing. He sat down in a corner and quietly thought about what this would mean for his plans. Would people now think that he had done it? And if so would they start watching him even more? DJ had been planning for a long time already that he wanted to get out, but it was simply ridiculous to kill people over it. What did that help? The killer must obviously be someone less smart. In his head he thought over the possibilities. Irwin wasn’t the smartest of them all, but he could hardly imagine him even smart enough to kill someone. Hah, there would have been spelling mistakes in the words if it had been Irwin. Who else did he know that wanted to get out? It could have been Irene maybe. The silly girl was stupid enough to have done it. He though of his own love, but simply didn’t want to believe that it could have been her. Mary was way too lovely for this. He sighed, abandoned further thoughts about the murder, and mused about his English rose.

Troy struggled a bit, but Sweetcherrie kept him tight against her. A lump had risen in her throat at Revery’s last words, and the cheer of people toasting on the Pen had sounded like a mantra. She sent Cyril a thought of thanks, and walked over to Revery. She wanted to hug and thank him, but the phoenix shrieked shrilly and the last thing she wanted was to set the mage on fire. After a moment's hesitation Sweetcherrie carefully put the bird down, begged him with her mind to stay put, and hugged Revery, “Thank you for this fantastic event.” At that moment Troy started hopping to the exit, “Oh my, I guess I’ll have to go now before he starts setting stuff on fire again. I’ll see you around.” And with that Sweetcherrie quickly followed the bird outside.

After wandering around aimlessly for a couple of hours, and not being able to find Mary, DJ decided to give the kitchen a second try. He needed to get his hands on some food, since he was sure that Cook would try to spice up his meal again. She’d tried it before, and he’d kept it silent. If he was entirely honest with himself he could also see that he deserved it, but nobody around here seemed to understand him anyways, so he no longer tried. He approached the kitchen on tiptoes, and felt his heart jump when he saw that Mary was there. For a while he just studied her, and followed the delicate movements of her elegant hands. She had a neck that he’d always wanted to kiss, but he knew that she’d never let him. When he saw Cook leave to get something from the big cooling cells, he inhaled deeply and stepped into the kitchen with what he thought would be a charming smile. “Well, hey hey, who have we got here? It’s the most beautiful girl in the vault,” DJ silently hoped that the wink he gave her showed more self-confidence than he felt. “Oh well, hello Derrick James, I see you are wasting your time again.” Her British accent gave him pleasant goose bumps, and he kept her talking while he shoved different food items in the sleeves of his overall. “So Mary, when I go off to discover the real world, will you come with me, my little flower?” The girl pulled up her nose, “You know very well that my parents would never allow me to go with you,” the last words was said with so much sarcasm that DJ cringed inwardly. “Yes, my dear rosebud, but-“ He slid one last apple in his overall, and hurried out with a whispered goodbye, when he heard Cook coming back. “Farewell my English rose, till we meet again.”

Wondering what her friend was doing to do in the Cabaret Room, Sweet follows him in. From a distance she quietly watches the mage, who is so busy doing his own thing that he doesn’t even notice the curious looks of the little girl. After he leaves the Cabaret Room, Sweet bounces over to see what is written on the scroll he’d just hung up. With wrinkles in her forehead the girl reads, and slowly her face turns into a big grin, “Magickel Bo0ks…now that sounds like something for me, and the man can spell!” Sweet fumbles in her pockets for a pen to sign her name with, “Now how do I sign my name, without a pen..” she mutters as her fingers run across the stamp she found in Wyvern’s office. With a frown she pulls it out and looks at it , but then her face brightens and she starts to draw. Ten minutes later she steps back and admires her work. The scroll now reads her name written with big ACCEPTED stamps. Unfortunately some of it didn’t fit on the scroll so she had to work on the wall as well, but at least from a distance it reads Sweet. Happy with her work she bounces out in search of Venefixmetoo to ask him all the question she already has about these Magickel Bo0ks.

The story can be found here As discussed on MSN, a little feedback… I love this story already and both the characters already have my sympathy. I will definitely be following this story, cause to me it feels like it will have the right mixture of adventure, mystery and action. The first post reads as if all is a little bit too coincidental, and it feels as if you’re going a bit too fast with the whole story idea. Like you said you just want to jot it down, while the idea is fresh. Definitely a good idea, but when you rework it, it might be a good idea to work out the story start. The dream showed the background a bit too fast, and it felt not right that he could remember a total dream like that when having a hangover from the night before. Maybe you could spread out the dream a bit more over several posts? Also maybe not tell that it will be five times, with this you might risk losing the attention after the fifth time. And again you’re giving an awful lot of information away in the first post already. I love the way the characters are almost each others opposites and think that they can make for some funny actions. Please continue writing this *sends out her puppeyes* PS: I know you asked me not to promote this too much, but I just wanted to get this down before it escaped my head

The story can be found here I think both characters are very real, and realistic as well. I felt at least that I could relate to them, although because of the speed the second post goes through the story Aysia comes across as some sort of superwoman there, and it feels it might need some more detailing in that part. The changes that the characters go through are well described, but again the second post could use some more detail. However, it’s easy enough to feel with the characters. I think the story line is well laid out and the objective of the story is clear, although at certain points it feels as if your rhythm in writing is uneven. Cryptomancer takes more time to explain things and paint the picture, while Mynx is more focused on the actions taken. I loved the idea of the tattoo and the circles, and think that it’s a really good image to show the progress of learning. When Aysia’s parents are murdered it cause some confusion with me and I almost thought it had been the runemage that had done it. It might be better to change this somehow, because until it became clear that it hadn’t been him, I felt antipathy for him. Then again if this was what you were trying to do…it worked. When the runemage was attacked, it felt as if it needed more drama. It was hard to imagine that it was such a big problem, since it had obviously been self-defence and at the moment I’m trying very hard not to think Aysia being a bit snotty, for not seeing this. Again if you’re aiming for this, fine of course, but continuing too long on this line, might make it harder to like Aysia. One last thing I noticed that in certain parts the word dreamt was used and blest, now I’m not entirely sure what the difference is between dreamt and dreamed, and blest and blessed, but it feels as if it’s the same. If so it would be better to stick with one…oh I asked in IRC and they said it was dreamt and blessed…Still no idea which is correct, but consistency in that might be good. In general a well-written story, and I’ll try to keep up following it. Edit: the discussion continued in IRC and apparently both dreamt and dreamed is allowed, I still think that consistency in the use of one of those would be good though.

The images this gave me were happy and joyful. Very refreshing, almost as if the girl danced into my screen only... first and second time, I swear I read "Who will she do?" in that third one... Not sure on how that could be changed though, (for one it probably has to do with the fact that I've been hanging around in the Scarlett Pen too much lately ) but it felt strange to go from What/Who in the first and second to What/What in the third. I can also see how you would like the last do to rhyme with through, maybe use What/What everywhere? I'm nitpicking anyways, and it's only my opinion. (and since I'm far from being a professional, it would probably be best to just ignore it ) Thank you for posting this joyfull image, that way I can go back to it, and have her dancing into my screen every now and then *huggles and dances away wondering what she will be* Edit: aaand I've suddenly remembered what song was playing in my head while reading this "Jean Jaques Goldman - Et l'on n'y peut rien", lots of fluits and violins

*reads* *rereads* *reads again and blinks* hmm...I'm the last person to claim to understand your poetry, half the time it just doesn't seem to get through to me, but this leaves me with the cold feeling of the cruel world outside. People are getting colder and colder and care less and less about others. Once on a school trip to Amsterdam my friend and I were in a funny mood, and we decided to experiment a bit. We were going to try and look people in the eyes, and see how many would actually have the guts to look back. We were both about sixteen years old, but were obviously still seen as a threat. When we looked people in the eyes they turned their heads away, as if they were affraif of the human contact. This poem to me reflects that fear in people, fear to reach out to others, and with that creating a world that gets less and less humane to live in. Thank you for writing this. I have no idea if this is what you meant with it, but the images it gave me were lively and although they're not exactly happy images, it's good to be remembered of them. It's the only way to prevent us from doing the same. *huggles warmly and goes on a crusade to spread some more warmth*

Dreamlogs 5 OOC: It seems like every major change in my life is accompanied by these sort of dreams. The first time I worked in France, and was away from my 'home' for a longer period, I dreamt that my mother was dying. I woke up crying, and it was so real that I went up to a phone boot and called her in the middle of the night. Since then I've moved around a lot, and with every major move I've had dreams like this one. I guess that they help me to accept the changes. I've learned in the five years that I'm travelling now that 'home' is where I make it, and I enjoy the experiences thoroughly, but the dreams keep coming. When she woke up she stretched her body like a lazy cat can do. She looked around the room, her home; it felt so her own after the four years she had lived there now. Her single bed stood in the corner and the white sheets were all crinkled around her. In the other corner stood a small closet with her TV on it Against the opposite wall were standing her desk, and a cupboard with her books. The titles varied from study books to fantasy novels, and her CD collection was as diverse, from rock to classic, and from metal to folk. The last wall wasn’t actually a wall. It was a dark red curtain, made of the heaviest velour that divided her part of the house from the rest. In total there were fourteen girls living in the house, but she knew that she was the only one here at the moment. The others had all gone home for the summer holidays, but she had stayed behind for another week just to be alone with herself for a while. It had been a very hectic semester, and she needed the time to recharge. She blinked lazily with her eyes, deciding that today would be a lazy day, a day on which she hardly had to do anything. After another hour of drifting in and out of sleep she decided to get up and get a shower. She put her long slender legs next to the bed, stroked past them with one hand, and noticed that she would have to shave them. “Well,” she decided, “It’ll be a nice long shower then.” She stood up, and unbuttoned the silk nighty she wore during the night. Carelessly she let it slide of her shoulders, and it ended up in a soft bundle on the floor. Walking passed the dressing mirror she concluded that her hair also needed the shower. She chuckled, her curls always went everywhere during sleeping and it looked like she hadn't combed it for weeks when waking up. In the shower she stepped out of her string and turned on the shower. It was so hot outside that she decided to keep the temperature a few degrees lower than what she was used to. The lukewarm water streamed over her body and she sighed with regret as she felt herself wake up entirely. Ten minutes later she turned the shower off and grabbed a towel from the towel rack. She wrapped it around her, and walked back into her room. From her clothing cupboard she chose a light blue, sleeveless blouse that went well with her eyes. She looked for a short to go with it, but when she couldn’t find one, she decided that it was warm enough to walk around like this. She walked to the communal kitchen to make herself some breakfast, and jumped almost two meters in the air when she was suddenly standing eye to eye with one of her housemates. They laughed together about her silliness, and she made for the kitchen counter to get something to eat. “I thought you went home for the summer?” She started putting jam on a cracker; “you want one too?” she looked over her shoulder, and discovered that the girl had disappeared. Her hand started shaking, and she almost dropped the cracker that she was holding in it. The kitchen was empty, and where she had thought her housemate had been sitting, was now only the large kitchen table. They’d had many good evenings there together, two cooking and the others just laughing and making jokes. It must have been part of a dream still. She stuck the cracker in her mouth and while chewing smiled about her own sleepy headedness. With another cracker in one hand, and a cup of tea in the other she made her way back to the room. But when she entered, her mouth dropped open. With a loud crash the teacup splattered on the hard wooden floor, tea splashing all over her feet. Shaking all over she looked for support at the cupboard. The TV had been moved and the curtain was drawn open. The sheets of her bed were gone, and she could now see the mattress. Careful not to cut her bare feet on the glass from the teacup she moved to put on some shoes, and sank down on the bed. What had happened? Who had been in her room? Forgetting that she was still half naked she walked towards the room next to hers. There was nobody there, but it didn’t look one bit like her housemate’s room anymore. In the corner she saw four antique chairs. The chairs were all crimson coloured and made of velour. In the middle of the chairs stood a small antique table and it looked more like the room of a rich old lady than the room of her fellow student. Even the wallpaper had changed, and instead of the soft yellow now showed a pattern of roses. She turned around when she had the sensation of eyes in her back. There was nobody there, but again her room had changed. Her books were almost all gone now, and the CD’s had disappeared entirely. She felt a lump rise in her throat, and tears were coming dangerously close to the surface. The little porcelain statues her mom had given her for her birthday had disappeared as well, and she wanted to scream that she wanted her stuff back, but there was nobody to scream at. Anger rose inside of her, and she stormed back towards the kitchen. When she pulled the door open, it felt as if she had walked directly into a brick wall. The table had disappeared and four single beds had replaced the kitchen counter. Each of the beds was made tightly with creamy sheets of expensive quality. Who was taking her memories from here? This was her house, she had lived her for four years now, and they had no right to change it like this. In total panic she ran to another housemates room, and discovered that this room now looked as one of those antique smoking rooms she had seen in fifties’ films. “Why are you so afraid?” The voice sounded calm, and felt known, but she was sure she’d never heard it before. She spun around expecting it to be another figment of her imagination, but she stood face to face with a girl. The girl had the whitest skin she’d ever seen, and if it had been any more fragile she would have been able to see through it. Dark, sleek hair fell around her face, and she had eyes like an owl. “You have to let go,” the girl’s words were soothing, like a mother’s words would be, “and you know this as well.” A shiver went through her body, and she felt the urge to throw herself in the arms of this strange young woman. “But this is my home?” Hot tears were flowed from her eyes; still her words had held a question, and she knew as she had said it that she was starting to accept the changes. She wanted to hold on to it, it had been hers for so long, and it felt as if they were taking away a piece of her heart with every piece of furniture that changed. Why did everything always have to change? Why couldn’t it just stay the way it was? “Because that’s the way life works,” The words were spoken calmly and held such great truth in them that she couldn’t do anything but accept. She fell on her knees and howled from the pain this new knowledge cause inside her. A cool hand was placed against her burning cheek, and she looked up. “You’ll be fine,” the smile on the young woman’s face touched her from the inside, and left a little spark. The girl pressed a kiss on her forehead, and disappeared. Alone once again she crawled up on the cool floor to cry her tears for the loss of what had once been.

OOC: Staring at the clouds can make you ask funny questions.....I sort of felt detached with the world for a moment. shade in the shadows confirm my existence please? don’t turn your back and tell me that life sucks Cause if I’m not seen By the eyes of others? …your eyes… Then am I still here? there? Where? Does my arrogance tell me lies? when it tells me to hold on am I really supposed to ….let go? Do my memories hold the truth? When they tell me to let go Am I really supposed to ….hold on? Shade in the shadows Non-existent Back turned Life sucks

The tables were almost all empty of glasses for the moment, and Sweetcherrie had made sure that she had a good spot before Cyril began. He had just finished reading his second poem, when she smelled smoke. She looked around to see what was happening and saw that one of the tables was on fire. Nobody seemed to have noticed yet, but moments later she saw a second table starting to smoke. She wondered what was happening when she felt something rubbing against her hand. When she looked down Troy, her phoenix, was loyally looking up at her. “What are you doing here? Uhoh…” Sweetcherrie realised what had been the cause of the fire, and as she said it she saw Troy hopping off towards Mynx’s owls. Images of curiosity appeared in her head, and she ran after the bird before he would set half the room on fire. “Troy! Get back here!” Sweetcherrie tried to order him back, but it was too late. Troy ran straight to Mynx, who stood with her back turned towards them, and happily tried to jump at her owls to say hello. When the feline bent over to pick up some glasses, the phoenix finally managed to jump on Mynx’s back, his flaming wings spread widely to keep his balance. He had already managed to set the tip of her tail on fire and was enthusiastically talking to her owls in some bird language. Mynx surprised by the weight on her back stood up straight to try and get it off. This caused the phoenix to grab hold of her clothes with his beak, in order to prevent himself from falling off. It was really a comic sight, if it wouldn’t have been for the fact that Troy’s wings had now set another table on fire. Sweetcherrie got hold of Troy, pulled him of Mynx’s back, and quickly put out her tail. It was now looking a bit burned, but luckily it had only been the fur that had been singed a bit. With the phoenix in her arms, she apologised to Mynx and glanced around. Three tables were ablaze, and she had no idea how to put this out and make sure Troy wouldn’t start new ones at the same time.

DJ is fifteen and every parent’s nightmare. He has never tried to study anything in his life, and everybody thinks this is a shame since he is really bright. Unfortunately he only uses his intelligence to make other people angry. He constantly comes up with new schemes, and is utterly bored to be locked up. He’s heard people speaking about the sun all his life, and has even seen some pictures from it in the books that were saved. He feels it’s time that he finds out for himself, and tries almost everything possible to get away from the constant looks from the adults to get upstairs. He’s secretly in love with fourteen-year old Mary, but unfortunately Mary is being kept away from him by her parents. This of course is another reason for him to be headstrong, and try to escape his parents' supervision. DJ will do anything to get into trouble.

OOC: Written by Venefyxatu and Sweetcherrie, Always great to write together with you Vene “Venefixmetoo, Venefixmetoo!! I have made a drawing for Gryfelcon, and erm...I want to bring it to life and you're a mage and you should be able to do this, and I really want the warriors to become real…you see they are shooting bombs at the castle and I thought that maybe Gryfelcon would like that as well!!” Sweet slid inside, and came to a halt in front of the necromancer. She looked at him with her shining eyes filled with confidence and expectation, and held up her drawing so he could see. Venefyxatu smiled a little at the girls enthusiasm and looked at the drawing. It was pretty good, and he could quite make out what she meant. "Yes, I think I can do something about that. Let's go to the Cabaret Room already, I'll make them get off the paper there. It'll look great on the stage, don't you think?" “Oooh, that’s such a great idea,” the girl almost huggled the mage of his feet, and skipped ahead, assuming that he would follow. Once inside the Cabaret Room her eyes looked for Gyrfalcon, and when she had found him she stormed off. With an enormous speed she threw herself at him, almost knocking him of his feet as well, “Happy Birthday Gryfelcon, I made a drawing see?” for a moment she held it up, but than changed her mind, “Maybe you shouldn’t look yet, Venefixmetoo is helping to make it into an extraspecial drawing.” She snatched the drawing away again, and ran back to the necromancer who had only just arrived. Venefyxatu moved over to Gyrfalcon, who had, except for Sweet, a few moments of relative peace, and congratulated the Elder with his birthday. Then he grinned slightly and followed her up to the stage where she was bouncing around excitedly around Mynx and Akallabeth. "Sweet, do you want to help a little? After all, it's your drawing ..." “You are a big kittycat, I’ve never seen such a big kittycat before…can you do magic? Do you sleep in a little ball? Do you lick yourself like little kitties do?” Sweet curiously looked at Mynx from all sides, and asked a thousand questions, but never gave her time to reply. When she heard Venefyxatu speak, she deserted her quest for answers and hopped over to him, “What do I’m supposed to do?” "Well, could you hold up your drawing so I can see it, and hold it really still so I can concentrate on it?" When Sweet nodded excitedly, the necromancer added, "And of course you'll have to close your eyes and concentrate really hard on what you want to happen as well. That'll make it easier for me." Closing his own eyes, Venefyxatu leaned on his staff as he pictured the drawing in his mind. He then allowed Sweet's thoughts to mix with his, and started changing reality around him just enough to impose his will on it. The "hmmmmmm" sounds Sweet were making quickly faded to the background of his mind, and something started shimmering on the stage. Hands growing white from the force with which he was clutching to his staff, he kept concentrating, the image of two warriors becoming more and more real, until they were real. Opening his eyes again, he lightly touched Sweet's shoulder to indicate that she could look. She opened her eyes and looked at the warriors with awe. They were dragging a very realistic looking canon between them, and were currently setting it up at the stage. “Wow,” A sigh escaped the little girl’s lips and the sight mesmerized her. The warriors started loading a cannonball in the cannon, and filled it with gunpowder. One of them stepped over to Akallabeth with a sort of torch and asked for a light. Akallabeth stuttered a bit but lit the torch. The warrior moved over to the cannon and lit the fuse; immediately it started spattering sparks. Sweet had inched closer to get a better look, and was now standing straight next to the cannon, “So erm…does the thingy now come out of here?” She bent over and looked straight in the barrel of the gun. Thinking that this might not have been a very good idea, Venefyxatu quietly started muttering again. Suddenly Sweet started floating upwards, and her initial shriek of surprise and terror quickly turned to delight. “You'll have a much better view from up there," the necromancer's soft voice sounded. When the cannon fired, there were lucky and unlucky people in the Cabaret room. Gyrfalcon was among the lucky ones, maybe because it was his birthday. Akallabeth, Mynx, Venefyxatu and Sweet were among the unlucky ones. The warriors were ... remarkably absent afterwards. The cannon didn't just fire, in fact, it didn't fire at all since the cannonball never left it. A slight error in the drawing caused the thing to explode instead, making a big hole in the stage and covering the three Pennites on the stage with soot. With a loud scream Sweet stopped floating, and dived headfirst into the almost dragon. The stamp slipped out of her pocket, and a shiny inked ACCEPTED was now written on Wyvern’s forehead. The girl quickly slid the stamp back, and wormed loose. She glanced around and was disappointed to see that of the warriors and the cannon itself, no trace had remained..... OOC: Happy Birthday from Venefyxatu and Sweetcherrie

I have posted Dreamlogs 4 in the Scarlett Pen, I felt I couldn't go around the use of certain words, but this did make the story unsuitable to post it here. *sighs* I'll have to accept that my mind is totally twisted when I'm asleep

“Does anybody in here want to play?” nobody replied to Sweet’s questions so she bounced in and looked around. The recruiter’s office actually looked a bit dull, and the child wondered if Wyvern had been using Almost Dragonic Shineaway Polish on the furniture. She had never been in here before, but it looked as if people actually worked here. Wondering where Wyvern himself was at the moment she decided that he probably wouldn’t mind her looking around for a bit. Sweet sniffed around a bit, and hop-skipped to the desk. It was covered in papers, and some of them looked pretty important. She settled herself down in the lizard’s chair, glanced over the papers, and suddenly a brilliant idea popped into her head. She would make a drawing for him. There would be money and shinies in the picture, and she would draw herself giving it to the almost dragon. Yeah, that’s what she would do. He always liked shinies, and so he would probably also like a drawing of shinies. Rumbling through the clutter she found a paper that was almost empty and that he surely wouldn’t need anymore. It had a circle on it that looked like the world, and she turned it upside down so she could draw on the back. “Shame I don’t have my pens,” she mumbled, but as she though it she saw the inkpad. Sweet pulled it towards her, and carefully opened it. The ink was shining wet and after wriggling her fingers she stuck one in the inkpad. It felt funnily wet but, when she placed it on the paper, it looked really good. She entertained herself for a while with drawing figures on the paper with her fingers, but it soon got boring. She got up and accidentally touched the chair with her inky hands, leaving some very nice prints on it. With a frown she looked at it for a moment and then decided that only a few prints didn’t look good. She stuck her hands back on the inkpad and made neat hand- and fingerprints all over the chair. Stepping back she admired her own work, and thought that it definitely looked good. Now what else could she do with her drawing? She opened some drawers and in the first ones she only discovered mess and more mess, but in the last one she found a stamp. Sweet decided that the chair and the drawing would look even better if it had real stamps on it as well, and got back to work again. Half an hour later she was finally finished. She glanced around and concluded with a smile that it looked super cool. The drawing of the horse on the wall was definitely one of her best drawings so far, and she was feeling very satisfied with the result. Absentmindedly she wiped her hands on her shirt and looked at the stamp in her hand. It had been fun to play with it, and it had been aaaall the way in the bottom drawer. Wyvern probably never used it, so he almost certainly wouldn’t miss it. She stuck the stamp in her pocket leaving a shining wet “ACCEPTED” on her dungarees. She threw one last look at the drawings and hop-skipped out of the office to find some people to show her art to.

The next morning she woke up bathing in sweat and wondered if the Pen keep’s mana flows had stopped providing for the air-condition system installed in her room, until she saw the firebird lying close next to her. It had been two weeks already that the phoenix had lived with her now, and each morning she woke up with him lying next to her on the bed. She kept sending him back to his own corner, where she had made a new sort of bed for him, but each time he crawled back on her bed. It had amazed her how much the bird had grown in this short time. From the little chick she had found he had grown to be already hawk sized. When Troy’s wings spread from tip to tip almost three feet already, and she wondered how big he would be once he was full-grown. She sighed, as she shoved the bird to the side and went for her morning shower. With the warm water pouring over her she quickly lost her sleep. She was just applying shampoo to her hair, as suddenly she smelled something funny. As she opened her eyes, the shampoo dripped in it and started stinging. Sweetcherrie grabbed for a towel and rubbed the soap from her eyes. She turned around to see where the smell had come from, but noticed that she could still hardly see. Everything was blurry, but this time it was because the whole shower was filled with steam. She opened the door further and let some of the steam escape. When she stepped back in the bathroom to look what had been the cause of this a very wet and steaming phoenix jumped in her arms. “Troy! What are you doing in here?!” The phoenix shivered in reply, and she stumbled back as she was flooded by mental images of fear. Dark images filled her head, and for a moment she was lost in the terror that Troy flooded over her. The images only to a second to appear and were gone almost as fast. Sweetcherrie shook her head, and found that she was sitting on the floor with Troy on her lap. “Now, how did you come in here? And how on earth did I see what you were thinking?” She mumbled, but the phoenix only shook his wings and splattered water all over her. She got up from the shower floor, almost slipped because of all the water, and sent the Phoenix out the shower. After locking the door she stepped back under the shower and rinsed the shampoo out of her hair. While she was drying herself she wondered what it had meant that she had felt the same as Troy. Could it be that they were mentally connected? Would that be the explanation to why touching him didn’t burn her, but did burn everybody else? Absentmindedly she walked out the bathroom, almost falling over Troy lying just behind the door. Her laptop was still on from the night before and it took her only two minutes to find out that it was indeed possible to connect with a phoenix’s mind, but only when you were close to him. She looked at the phoenix that had put his head in her lap, “Well, you’re certainly close to me. I wonder….Dana would probably be able to help me to explore your mind, at least she knew how to open her own mind.” She realised she was speaking out loud, and flushed slightly. She decided to go see where Dana was, and hoped that she wanted to help her. She put her shoes on, and walked out the door with Troy on her heels. The sun was burning on her shoulders, and there was hardly enough wind to even move the leaves on the trees. Troy was hopping behind her, and Sweetcherrie wondered when he would become a bit more graceful. So far he still looked like a smaller version of an emu when he walked, only he had more beautiful colours. He set the whole place on fire if he wasn’t careful enough, and got overexcited, and she was pretty sure that no emu had ever done that. In the distance she could see Dana sitting at the side of the lake. Sweetcherrie knew that the girl was meditating regularly, and hoped that she didn’t disturb. She silently approached and just wanted to say something, when Dana already opened her eyes, “Hello, would you like to sit down? Just give me a second, when I meditate I normally weave a protective shield around me.” She flicked her hand, and made an inviting gesture for Sweetcherrie to sit down. “What brings you down here today?” Dana looked at Sweetcherrie, and she felt the dark eyes penetrate hers, almost as if Dana was looking into her soul. “Err..I wanted to ask if you could help me with Troy, I read online that it’s possible to connect with his mind, and I would like to learn this, and you immediately came to mind, and-“ Sweetcherrie realised she was rambling and stopped talking. Dana’s face however turned into one of her rare smiles, “If you are patient enough to learn, then I will take the time to teach.” The rest of the day Dana taught her the basics of meditation, and by the end Sweetcherrie felt so spaced out that she felt as if she was walking on clouds when she walked home, Troy happily hopping after her.