Patrick

What to do...what to do? - Patham mused to himself, but just then he heard the announcement that round three was over. He had spent too much time thinking...

Patham stood in front of the canvas, holding the different pots of paint he had taken from Sweetcherrie and wondered where to start. Then Patham decided to start with the easy part. He took the pot of blue paint, and the pot of grey paint and plunged his finger in the blue one. He drew parallel, horizontal lines of blue from the top of the canvas to about its middle. He then dipped a different finger in the grey paint and progressively, starting at about three quarters of the height of the canvas, added a bit of grey to the blue, making it slightly darker as it went lower down. Now for this thing at the middle – he thought. He took the pot of red paint and drew a slightly diagonal line, rising towards the right in the middle of the canvas, and then taking some grey paint made it slightly darker in places. His red finger then drew a vertical red line at roughly three quarters of the previous red line. Some curves and a few more, less wide vertical lines were the next to appear on the canvas. A few smears and smudges later the red paint could be put away. It was now time for the blueish-greenish-greyish stuff on the bottom. As Patham smeared the paint over the lower part of the canvas he felt once again like a kid. It had been a long time since he had had this much fun. He left one small, oval looking spot clear of paint in the lower half, and added a thick red and then above it a black line, finally painting some white paint over a part of the black. Then sort-of behind the previous red structure and below the bluish paint Patham added darkish green dotted with small whitish-yellowish dots. He stood back to admire his “masterpiece” and then made a few more corrections. A bit redder here, a bit darker there.

Happy Birthday to both of you!

My internet and computer access in the last few days hasn't been too good, due to painters having taken over our house and me having to sleep at my grandmother's place, so I haven't yet had a chance to pm my guesses for the similarities. Is there a time limit for when the guesses need to be sent in?

From the shadow of his carnival booth Patham suddenly saw from the flying spectacle of the almost-dragon that the second round of the Beauty Pageant had started. Damnit, I'll be late. - he thought to himself, and then realised with sudden horror, that he didn't have any formal clothes. Then an idea struck him. He glanced at one of the owls, who had been helping him with his carnival booth. The owl wore an immaculate suit, which flowed perfectly along his tail feathers, along with a white shirt, which bulged at exactly the right places for an owl. For a moment Patham wondered why security owls always wore so good suits, but the next moment he was already asking the owl for his suit. "I need your suit." "But what shall I wear then?" - the owl replied frustrated. "Come on, an owl doesn't look that bad without clothes." It took another five minutes to convince the owl, and then two more for him to help, the now in owl-form, Patham into them. "How do I look?" - Patham asked. "Good enough." - was the reply from the owl, who was at quite some discomfort without his clothes. "I'm leaving you in charge of the booth, while I'm gone." - Patham said and flew off. He realised that flying with a suit on wasn't an easy feat for an owl, as it greatly hindered the flapping of his wings. But somehow he managed to make it to the Beauty Pageant, where he was met by a scene of utter chaos. The judges looked as if they had taken a swim, Tom was being comforted by Apaltra and Patham's owl nose could feel the distinct smell of burnt lizard. It was hard for him to concentrate, but at a gesture from one of the judges he was given the go ahead and landed on the stage. He walked around, showing the judges and spectators "his" suit and shirt. His feathers followed the lines of the suit almost perfectly, and to an owl observer he must have looked extremely elegant. However to the spectators gathered here the sight wasn't anything special, but they applauded as polite audiences always do. Patham did one last circle on the ground and then performed a complicated summersault in mid-air, after which he landed on his bottocks. Slightly embarassed, he walked off the stage.

Paul, in ragged clothes, sat at the base of a large building, his face covered by a hood. Some passers-by had put coins in his outstretched hands. He never moved to take the coins, sitting motionless in the scorching sun. There were already several silver, and one gold piece in his hand, when a young boy walked past and placed a small, copper coin in his palm. The boy ran off and Paul stood up, stretching. From the corner of his eye he watched the boy, while pocketing the coins. When the boy was about fifty meters away, Paul went after him. The boy rounded a corner, and Paul quickened his steps. After he himself rounded the corner, he moved into the gateway to a house, and entered the doorm which had been left slightly ajar. "I've been told to tell you that Bances has announced the start of the selection of regent." "Good boy." - Paul said with a smile, and handed the boy all of the coins he had gathered during the morning. The boy thanked him and ran off outside. Paul picked up the paper from the table on which was given their next meeting place and time. Paul left ten minutes later, thinking about the current situation. The boy was a good means of gathering information and sending messages. Paul made a mental note of sending a message with the boy the next time they met.

Patham, taking a break between two rounds of the beauty pageant walked purposefully to an empty spot on the beach. He thanked the two burly looking owls, who had been sending would-be vendors and sunbathers away from the spot. The freshly dug and evened sand looked perfect for this activity. Patham ordered his two helpers to set up the booth. They emptied the boxes and soon a table was on the beach, and a large sign next to it showed what was supposed to happen here, written in big, curving letters. Sand castle building contest! Entry fee none! Geld for participation: 10! Additional geld for winner: 25! Requirements: minimum 500 words! Castles shall be judged more by their final state than the way they are built! One of Patham’s helpers took out some paper, then hesitated. “Sorry, but I forgot to bring the pen for people to sign up with.” “Well you’ll have to use a feather then.” – Patham replied. Two minutes later even the apparatus to write with was ready and Patham leant back against the table, awaiting any contestants.

A portal opens next to me and I step safely through it, found yet again.

Do we PM guesses or just post them here?

I just can't believe it. I've just been found, and now I'm lost again. How can I be so useless? At least I'm in the middle of civilization this time. Looking out of a window I can see a lot of people on the other side of a fence. Outside the gate, people who seem to be wearing identical red uniforms and tall black hats are standing. Oh wait, some more are arriving and the old ones are leaving. What can this be? The building I'm in seems to belong to a rich family. I recognize paintings by Rembrandt among many paintings and there are also quite a few sculptures, but this is definitely not a museum. I can also see some fine english and french-made furniture. I try to go through a door, but the door is locked and a man next to me tells me that not all areas are open to the public. I wonder why? Maybe this information shall help whoever looks for me.

Finished the book at 5 am this morning. And just an idea about why Snape did what he did. Let's suppose that he is on the good side. However he made the unbreakable vow. He either had to keep that vow, or die, as I understood from the book. In the vow he vowed to protect and help Draco. So IMO he had to do what he did to Dumbledore if he wanted to keep the vow.

Yay, I've been found! Mount Rushmore it had been indeed. Oh and looks like my having read the Dune series several times paid off. It was the Maker part, which gave away that it was a desert to me.

Are you in the Sahara Desert Tanuchan?

After Musicevangelist left the stage it was Patham’s turn. As he went up the steps to the stage he tripped and fell face forward onto the stage, slightly bumping his head. He got up and smiled nervously at the judges and organisers, and then the crowd. If only I had a coconut. – he thought to himself. * “Hi!” – he said while waving to the crowd. - “I’m quite new in these parts so some of you might not know me yet.” – he looked around nervously at all the faces around the stage turned at him. “I’m called Patham, and I’m also a shape shifter as Tanny, who had been on the stage just a few minutes ago. However I only have two forms, the human one you can see now and this owl one.” – as he pronounced owl, his human form disappeared and in a flurry of feathers the small owl appeared. He flapped his wings a few times to get up to a height where people could see him and attempted a bow, which surprisingly did not end with an accident. Instead Patham just performed a forward summersault in mid-air. He shifted back to his human form. “I hope you shall all enjoy yourselves today.” He left the stage, this time managing not to trip on the stairs. *OOC: you had to be in the chat room to understand this.

Whoops, missed that post and just noticed it, I'll get to work on it now and try to send it today.

You're not the only one. Looking at the link there is one http too many.

Happy Birthday!

Congratulations Revery! PS: Since I'm hungarian I guess I'll have to point out that "sajnàlni" in hungarian is the infinitive of the verb, if you want the meaning of I'm sorry, then that is "sajnàlom" (with the accent on the 'a' in both cases in the other direction, but I don't have that a on this french keyboard).

I saw Mr. and Mrs. Smith two days ago. Was pretty much what I expected, being an action film, with quite good comedy parts in it. The acting was good, and the action scenes were well made, and the humour fitted well. There was one moment, where I did not quite understand why Mr. Smith did what he did, but I'll keep this review spoiler free, so I won't mention the exact moment. But the film had definately been worth watching.

Again I am stranded. Somewhere in the wilderness this time. When I say wilderness I'm talking about the previous state of the area, as in recent years with all the tourists, this place is nowhere near a wilderness anymore. Although I understand the language of the country, since it is english, I can't easily place it. The accent is definitely not australian though. There are a lot of foreign tourists here, and I can hear a lot of different languages being spoken. In front of me a cliff face stares at me from four different directions. Had I been here about 80 years ago, I would have been able to smell dynamite, but that smell is now long gone. How could I have gotten stranded so soon again after the last time? I was found fast enough then, hopefully it shall be the same this time. Before I go and try and find a stream to put this bottle in, I shall have to add that there are quite a few pine trees around here, although I can only smell them from a distance.

And here is mine. http://www.patrickdurham.net/themightypen/index.php?act=ST&f=3&t=13839

From the moment this man stepped on board the ship I knew that he was a gambler just by his looks. Although the ferry journey between England and Ireland does not take long, the casino on board shall long remember him. In the first twenty minutes he won nearly five thousand pounds, playing poker. “A glass of water please!” – he asked after winning a particularly large bet. “I’m sorry sir, but we don’t serve water at the bar. If you want water you’ll have to go to the other bar at the other end of the ship.” The man, who was very polite, and I just noticed had a moon shaped scar on his right wrist looked at me with a puzzled face. “You don’t have water? Well, well. I’ll give you one hundred pounds if you go to the other bar and bring me water.” That was a lot of money. I decided to go and get him his water. I just wondered why he had sat at the bar labelled “alcoholic drinks only” if he wanted to drink water. “Here’s your water sir.” “Thank you, my lad. Why the little flag inside the slice of lemon?” “It’s a custom of this bar. With every drink we give a flag with our company logo.” “I see. Here’s your one hundred pounds.” He handed me the money and then proceeded to win twelve thousand more before we reached Ireland.

It was indeed Phnom Penh. I've been found! :woot: :woot:

Patham, still wet from his experience at the diving/fishing stand and with an oyster shell in his hand walks up to see what Sweetcherrie is doing. "Stories for kids and finger painting? I'm not sure that I'm the person for..." - then he saw Sweetcherrie's stare. "Oh allright, I'll take part." - he said with a broad smile on his face. OOC: that is a signup for both activities.

How did I get here? What is this place where people speak a strange language I don’t understand. Right now I’m in front of some sort of palace where three rivers meet. The people stare at me as if I were an alien. They can probably see from my eyes that I’m different. Theirs are just slits compared to mine. Passing a genocide museum, I remember the terror of the K (smudge) R (smudge). As I buy some noodles in a sidewalk shop (with my last remaining US dollars) I marvel at the beauties of the city. Not far away I can see a pagoda, which is of a silver color. A small hill crowned by a pagoda marks the founding place of the city. There are elephant rides available, but I don’t have any more money. Soon I am going to run out of edible food…someone help me please! Oh yes the elephants are clearly of the Asian variety, I can tell by their size. I am lucky to see a spectacle performed, which I recognise as apsara dancing. Hopefully whoever reads this message shall know where to find me.