Kikuyu_Black_Paws

Yay!!!

By the way, for Wyvern and Silver Wind, I did read your comments on my last poem about "ne'er" and "oft" and the other words that made the poem choppier. In this assignment it was required, but I'll definitely pay attention to that in the future!

This was a project I had to do for my AP English class and I thoroughly enjoyed it. If anyone can tell me what poem this is crafted after (not hard, though) I'll give them super chocolatey brownie points!! Once upon a dawn morn growing, with the wind so greatly blowing, There drew a sound of someone passing o’er the mossy forest floor, Came the bright morn cool and dusty, brushing trees so light and musty, And still the passing footsteps pattered, pattered silently and sure, Suspending only to partake in stillness ringing sweet and pure— Pausing o’er the quiet moor. There his tilted head so slightly belayed his demeanor sprightly, As he paused on his way to listen for sweet nature’s natural cure. From his lips came gently pressing—quite like someone quick addressing— A woeful moan for the lost and loved, noble and quick Menalore— Ever seeking Menalore. Here he continues on his questing, never even thinks of resting, Straying to no city or the delightful ocean-eating shore Never he will think of speaking, even when his bones are creaking, Only ever will he mutter of the lost and loved Menalore, That all but forgotten dying brother of the name Menalore, Such a pain was ne’er before. On the winsome traveler seeking, not a word from his lips leaking, Only searches for the brother whom he once knew long before, Others having long forgotten of the trail he once had trodden, The seeker travels separately on through the peaceful, growing moor Searching for the once remembered now forgotten Menalore, Such a burden which he bore.

Your starkly lighted beauty Has nothing in compare As you sail above the heavens In a darkly shadowed lair. Men pause in frequent wonder At your beauteously scarr'ed face But they cannot touch your splendor Though they 'oft forget their place. Ere now you shade your visage And sink into the grave Content to sleep alone until The dawn light fades away. The cooling of your presence The soothing of your glow Causes tides to ponder But ne'er do they slow. Finally you disappear With the waning of the skies And all eyes watch in 'mazement As the shining mother dies.

I've never heard of that album. The most popular in our family is the Scenes from a Memory and the Liquid Tension group comprised of most of the Dream Theater group. They're pretty awesome.

Patrick, I didn't know you were into Dream Theater! I grew up on them because of my dad!! Have you heard their new song 'These Walls'. It's my favorite by far out of anything they've done! And Wyv, I can't wait to look into your EP!

On the day of all triumphs, The day of a lie, The Shadows flourish, Those doomed shall die. Brought forth from the ashes, Heart filled with flame, Flung to the land, Thousands lie slain. Princes will serve Him, Kingdoms shall fall, Killers will fear Him, Armies will stall. One shall come thus, On the eve of the first, Join He the Enemy, Blood is His thirst. Serving another, Second in line, Long lies He waiting, Biding His time. Who will defeat Him? Who will prevail? If standing divided, All shall fail.

Kikuyu stood up, resplendant in her many I Wyvern pins and ribbons, as well as a shirt with a Wyvern crouching over a pile of Geld. She even licked casually on a large heart shaped lollipop with "Wyvern" carved into the front with white icing. Degoram gestured to her twin, a crooked smile crossing her lips. "As you can see, Kikuyu here is showing some of the projects we have already completed. You will be able to pick up your pins, ribbons, and lollipop of your choice in flavor. We have Black Raspberry, Cherry, Pina Colada, Chocolate, Root Beer, Bananna, Pinapple, Cream, Pomegranite, Chicken, Beef, Broccolli, Cheese, and- our featured flavor- Beer." Kikuyu opened her arms to the crowd of Pennites below. "Welcome all. I am projects designer Kikuyu, and I have joined this club because I really do Wyvern. I owe him a few ill..erm...I mean, good turns." Kikuyu's mind quickly thought back to Halloween where she had been dumped into a puddle of water. Yes...some turns ought to do it. "So hello, and welcome to the I Wyvern Club!!!"

Kikuyu simmered quietly on the sidelines, watching as Degorram and Wyvern struck it up on the dance floor. She did not realize that her eyes had changed colors, as they often did, from blue to emerald green. The tattoos under her eyelids had also changed to green. "Alright then, Wyv," she muttered to herself. "We're even for now. But I'll tip the scales soon enough." Kikuyu drew one of her daggers and smiled at it, running a finger down the sharp blade. A pennite next to her inched away, eyes wide. Kikuyu quietly hummed a verse of "They're Coming To Take Me Away" to herself as she yet again sheathed the dagger and tapped her foot in tune to the music, her eyes on Degorram and Wyvern.

Kikuyu wheezed for breath, the dragon's weight pushing down uncomfortably on her abdomen and making stars dance before her eyes. Kikuyu pushed herself up on her elbows. Her druid paint was smeared all up her left arm. The slashing, dripping blue sworls dripping down her arm only enhanced the wet-rat, severly angry Kikuyu image. Her hair soggy and curling rapidly in the humidity, Kikuyu rolled onto her side, dumping Wyvern off of her stomach. The dragon, as unfortunate for him as it might have been, according to Degorram's enlightened statement, slipped in the water again and fell back to further entangle himself in Kikuyu's hair. Grimacing with pain, Kikuyu loomed over Wyvern, her eyes slits of humorous rage. "I'm wet, Wyv," she said. Wyvern grinned up at her, unabashed. "I ssswear thisss wass not part of my plan." The dragon tried to get up, yanking his horns which in turn yanked on Kikuyu's hair. The ninja yelped and grabbed Wyvern's head. "Don't move!" she growled. "That hurts! Somebody call an ambulence! Or a firetruck!" "Maybe we ssshould just cut--" Wyvern immediately stopped this line of thought as Kikuyu turned practically glowing eyes on him. He could imagine smoke coming from her mouth and fire shooting out of her eyes. "Ambulence! Firetruck!" he yelled.

The sound of crashing sea against the prow beat like heavy drums through the beams. Iridescent dolphins played near the surf, racing the front of the ship, jumping up and out of the water as they chattered to their compatriots. The creaking of lines and the flapping of the sails added to the cacophony of the sea. An emerald flag with a prancing reindeer flapped in the wind atop the crows-nest. The sun gleamed warmly, turning the ocean green-blue and glittering like a precious jewel. Along the side of the dark-wooded ship ran the name Stag. A young man stood at the prow, his wild eyes as dark as the wood of his ship, glittering and reflecting the dazzling light flashing off of the waves. His long brown hair whipped around his face, sprung free from its tie in the heady winds. Firm jaw, sharp nose, and high cheekbones marked him as a high-standing fellow among his peers, if not in family name. A long jacket of leather flapped behind him, his long white shirt as clean and crisp as the sails above him. The open chest of his shirt revealed a circular black tattoo with an antlered dolphin swimming through its oblong shape. Long-fingered hands gripped sea-soaked ropes as he moved out onto the flatter, slipperier, more dangerous part of the prow. The man at the wheel grinned ruefully as he looked at his captain, now moving out onto the farthest reach of the prow, where no ropes aided his hands and feet to caution. A young boy, the newest cabin lad to be taken aboard, stared with wide eyes at the wild and fiery captain playing like a spring deer with the elements. "Does he always do that?" the boy asked in wonder. The first mate nodded from nearby, his green eyes glittering with mischief. "You picked a good ship to come upon, boy. Ne'er a sea-dog has more fun and adventure than on the Stag!" The wind slacked slightly and the captain leapt down from his perch, his clothing and his hair salt-flecked. Panting slightly the man came to stand next to his first mate and the cabin-boy. "I haven't felt such a wind in six months!" the man crowed, winking at the cabin-boy. "It will hold us steady 'til we reach Barbados." The cabin-boy ducked his head, shy of his master and unwilling to tangle his feet in the currents of such a dangerously wild man. He was startled by a hand clapping on his shoulder. "Oi, lad, what's the matter?" The boy looked up into the black eyes of the captain. The boy gulped and wrung his kerchief in his hands. "I heard you're a sea demon," he whispered, eyes wide. "That you turn into a sea-deer at night and drink the blood of dolphins and boys, and that you know where the mermish live and that you..." here the boy blushed a deep red and hiccupped. The captain laughed, throwing back his head. "Aye, I've heard the stories. If you were so afraid, though, why did you come aboard?" The cabin-boy looked down at his feet and wiggled his bare toes in the warm air. "Only ship that'd take me," he muttered gruffly. The captain grinned at the boy, baring all of his teeth. "Don't worry, lad. I'll make sure not to drink any dolphin blood around you." He strode off laughing, his sauntering gait giving him easy sea-legs on the heaving ship. The cabin-boy gaped after the captain. "The rumors are true then?!" he gasped. The first mate laughed as strongly as his captain. "Nay, boy. He was joking with you. Now, why don't you go find some lunch for us up here, eh?" The cabin boy scuttled away quickly, leaving the first mate still laughing at his post. The laugh soon faded from his lips as the boy wandered out of hearing-range. A thoughtful cast appeared in his gaze and the set of his jaw, and he stood steering the ship in cautious silence for a few moments. The moon rose high over the still ocean as the ship floated quietly in the stagnant summer midnight. A few guards roamed the deck, their lanterns casting a golden glow in contrast to the silver and blue of the ocean night. Silvery wisps of clouds floated through the sky, floating past the stars. The captain wandered out on deck, eyeing the ship quietly. The guards nodded to him and looked away quickly, making their way to the opposite side of the ship, purposefully avoiding their captain's gaze. The captain reached the side of the ship and pressed his hands on the rail, kicking off his boots. He stared deeply into the depths of the sea, his eyes growing wider, his pupils expanding until they covered his whites. His eyes glittered blackly, like a seal's eyes, or a deer's eyes, and he leaned forward, stretching in his skin, to plunge over the side of the ship. The cabin-boy yawned as he made his way onto deck, his bladder having woke him rudely in the night with an urgent request. There was no sign of the guards. The absence of human activity on the ship sent a chill along the boy's flesh, but did not connect with anything in his brain. The sight of water and his captain's boots on the deck made the cabin-boy's eyes snap wide open. "Captain!" he screamed, rushing to the side of the ship, clutching the rail in his hands, searching the water desperately for the fallen man. "Captain, are you down there!? Captain!!" The water lapped gently against the side of the ship, sighing with the faint wind of the night. The boy was about to go back to bed, convinced he was dreaming, when a large fin slapped the water beneath. The boy jumped, eyes wide with horror. The fin had been too big to be dolphin, and all spiny and delicately finned like a dragonfly wing. The scales had been every color of the sea, blue, green, purple, even gold and silver. The boy leaned over the edge, eyes wide as he searched for any sign of the fish he had seen. The water began to boil and churn as a body emerged. The boy began to hyperventilate with horror, his eyes wide and his mouth hanging open as he gasped for air that seemed too unwilling to come to his laboring lungs. The water pressed upwards, lifting the shadowed figure. A pale, bony, sharply clawed hand clutched the rail, emerald green webbing between the fingers slipping and dripping water onto the deck. The hand pulled the rest of the body up. A partly human face bared sickle-sharp teeth that glimmered silver in the moonlight. Totally black eyes glared moistly at him, reflecting his own terrified face back at him. The face was thrust forward and elongated like a stag's. The hair was thick and black, intertwined with seaweed and sea muck. A proud pair of sweeping antlers, curling back from his brow, poked through his hair and hung dripping with limp sea grass and bits of beaded string. The bony ribs protruded from the skin, the torso covered in a shimmering layer of scales and silver fur that dripped and stank like seaweed in the sun. A long, sharply finned tail was attached to the lower half of the man, long spines as sharp as daggers arching along the spine of his back and tail. In the curve of its chest was an antlered dolphin tatoo, warped by scales. The sea-stag arched forward, its mouth yawning open, breath of rotting fish tainting the air around it. The boy could no longer breath. He did not feel the long fingers, cold and clammy as a fish's sides, cutting off his air. He could only see the gaping maw coming closer and closer, the scent of decaying fish and the sea heavy in his nostrils. The long, sharp, silver teeth took up his vision, and a circle of black rimmed his vision. Then all went dark. The captain slept late that following morning. His first mate appeared in his private cabin about noon to shake him awake. The captain reeled, blinking rapidly as he rubbed the sleep from his eyes. "What time is it?" he murmured. "Noon," the first mate said grimly. The captain shook his head and ran a hand over his face. "It was a long night," he started to explain. "Aye," the first mate said quietly. "I can imagine. The cabin-boy is dead. They found his body floating alongside the ship. It looks like he hung himself in the ropes off the starboard side. But the curious thing is, he's got no more blood in his body." The captain froze, staring ahead of him at the maps of the seven seas. "Shark?" he whispered hoarsely. The first mate shook his head. "No wounds big enough for a shark. There's a single tear along his throat. The men think that perhaps he was slashed when he fell." The silence stretched between the two men as the captain stared at his maps. His eyes were fixed on a symbol in the islands of the Americas: that of a rearing stag with a dolphin's fin. "We tell this to none on shore," he said softly. "He was never here." The first mate nodded. "Aye captain." As he walked towards the door, he paused. "A good night then," he said. The captain finally turned to look at his first mate. "Aye," he whispered, fingering the tattoo on his chest. "A very good night."

The ground was frosted with a delicate covering of ice. The wind blew with aching acuteness through the clattering reeds of the swamp, hissing and moaning through dead, rubbing branches. A young girl, her hair ragged and bleached of color through hardship and malnutrition, knelt before a cross with a ragged patch of cloth attached. The wind pierced her to her core, leaving no inch of warmth in her flesh. Her thin shirt and patched jacket did nothing to keep out the chill, and her bare toes were muddied and frozen. Her breath froze as soon as it touched the air, expelled through blue lips. She could in no way stop her shaking. Her tears froze before they left her cheeks. The girl sniffed, her nose running because of her tears and the cold. "I promised," she whispered. "I promised, Dedata. I'll find Shizu and Oto. I'll find the ones who took them." More tears swelled into her eyes as she pressed her lips to her fingers, touching the cross to relay her cold, unfelt kiss. Slowly, pulling her jacket about her shoulders in a futile attempt to warm herself, the small girl stood. Bleakly she stared around her, tears still spilling from her eyes. Only now as she stood were the rest of her surroundings seen. Not one cross, but many-- numbering eight in all-- sat planted in the ground around her. Scraps of cloth, crudely made windchimes, even a tiny rag doll hung from their cross-pieces. The graves, all hand dug by the sole remaining survivor of the hard winter and the swamp's evils, varied in size from long to smaller than the girl's forearm. The girl clenched her chapped and bleeding fingers together into a fist. "I promised all of you," she whispered. One last time the girl brushed the crosses with her fingers, trembling even worse with the cold. The temperature dropped with the sun, and as she stood the girl's skin opened up in blisters from the freezing elements. With a few stumbling steps and a sob, the girl broke away from the graves and tripped her way out of the frozen cemetary. Hoarfrost demons and fey of the winter followed, watching with golden eyes and brushing her skin with their white, frozen fingers. The girl cried out, her eyes wide as she stumbled away from the unseen spectres. Despite her efforts to reach the road, she travelled deeper and deeper into the swamp. Ice formed in her hair and under her nose, on her eyelashes and over her thin clothing. She could no longer feel her feet or hands. The girl fell to her knees, putting her hands on the ground, panting. The sun had set, and darkness was fast falling on the horizon. It grew colder with every second. "Shizu," she muttered. "Oto..." The ground grew warm under her fingers. Surprised, the girl looked up. Before her, breaking out of a frozen swamp pond, was a large red rose. It curled upwards, exuding heat and light, glittering with tiny droplets of water and curling its green fronds outwards towards the girl crouching not far off. The girl giggled slightly and reached forward, blood trickling from her cracking lips and cheeks, her eyes only half seeing what was before her. "Shizu...Oto..." There would be no grave for her. No family to lay her cold body deep in the frozen earth, or build a crude cross as a token of her life. She had been the last, the only. She had done her service for her family before her, but now she died alone, with a bright red rose curled through her hair. The ice crusted over her face, and above the snow began to fall.

Kikuyu stood frozen at the doorway of the Conservatory. Her eyes turned a slow circuitous movement around the room as she took in every little detail. For a moment she wondered what crazy boozer had decided to take over the Pen, but then she realized, spotting the dragon slurping down the amber liquid nearby, that the boozer had not taken over the Pen. He lived there. Kikuyu slowly, cautiously made her way over to the dragon. "Hallo Wyvern. Ahh...need some help?" Wyvern looked up, burping outrageously and wiping foam from his lips. "Oh hi Kikuyu! Are you here for the boozin'-erm, I mean, racing?" Kikuyu glanced suspiciously again at the racecourse, wondering what fates had taken their evil interest in her to turn her morning walk this direction, and then looked back down at the dragon. "There wouldn't be any point," she said. "Degorram and I are impervious to alcohol unless in immense quantity." Wyvern grinned. "Well, as you can see, we have alcohol in immense quantity, so no problem! And as for being impervious, well, there's always a first time for everyone!" Kikuyu once again let the consequences of a massive boozing party ramble around her mind, searching for something to connect with, and then shrugged. "I'll get Dego." Wyvern grinned, once again turning to his Bruteweiser. "Exsssellent!"

Kikuyu finally stopped laughing (renewed of course by Degorram's "epic" encounter) hard enough to make her way over to help Wyvern pour the entire punch bowl down his throat. The gasping dragon steamed and shook slightly as the punch boiled in his stomach. He glared past watering eyes at Kikuyu before him. "Nice one," he sniffled. "I'll have to treat you to ssssome of my own Halloween tricksssss." Kikuyu's face turned a strange color behind her Woad tattooing as she covered her mouth to stifle more laughter. "Sure thing," she wheezed. "I'm looking forward to it." Wyvern sniffed a final time, perhaps trying to seem indignant at her passive lack of fear, or perhaps clearing the last of the cumin from his nostrils. Kikuyu lounged against the refreshment table, snagging a bat shaped cookie and biting a wing off. This party wasn't bad at all...

This reminded me of the fae stories of the Tuatha DeDanna of Irish myth. Very captivating, I loved the description and the enchanting tone that the mother's lack of sight and hearing added. Thoroughly enjoyable!!!!! ***** (five star rating)

The knight sat upon his steed, He felt no ounce of greed, No pain, no tears, no love, no fears, No need to cry or flee. The wind moved through his ragged hair, He matched the moon with stare for stare, And though the stars remained so far, He wished that they were closer there. His horse snorted mist with a huff, And nibbled the moss and other stuff, He shook his mane again and again, To try and shake the sadness off. The knight urged his steed ahead, Without concern for living or dead, They clattered and shook with each step that they took, And it seemed that it was the horse who led. That same knight who followed the stars, Followed the gleams of Jupiter, Mars, Continued his way, day after day, Traveling leagues and countries far. He faded away from life and sound, His eyes fixed above, and not on the ground, The horse walked alone, with naught but the stones, For the knight was ne'er to be found.

I stand with baited breath http://www.themightypen.net/public/style_emoticons/default/ohmy.gif

Ah yes, the I Me We difficulty! See the thing is, Rogue was actually a prologue to Mercenary. Half of Mercenary I'd written before hand, and upsettingly it was in first person!!!! (I hate first person, by the way. It's one of my weaknesses!!) Anyway, it was a major pain in my ninja-butt to go through the part of the story I had and try to fix said I Me We issue. I suppose I was not as thorough as I thought! Thank you for pointing this out Patrick! Also, reminders about reoccuring characters is definitely something I should have thought of!!! I will edit this post and reapply it soon!!! And as to writing more...well, perhaps all of my *cough* fans should tell me where it should go from here, if at all.

The whole point of the poem being disjointed was to connect with my thoughts being disjointed at that hour of the morning. Hence the fragment 'maybe' sentence and the lack of the "I believe". Also, the part of it being all one block without any spaces in between lines was to relate the blur of the morning. But I did like the change to 'how pathetic, these school computers'. Thanks for these thoughts!

I'm sorry if that was touchy, I wasn't feeling well, and still am not. But this isn't a blog for people to have a running conversation about the rules of poetry, or how irritated a person gets when things are repeated, so I would like it to pause and leave room for any more critiques that most likely will not come this way. I think this poem has been utterly wrung dry. No more posts about Kikuyu's freedom as a writer!!!! As I said, I'm sorry if this comes across touchy or rude, but at the moment I cannot help it and I will be forever in your debt and forgiveness. I sincerely appreciate the thoughts and opinions expressed in the critiques and replys above. Thank you all.

Kikuyu paused in her conversation with Grimmael to glance over at Wyvern and Silver Wind. She stared boldly for a moment, watching them boogie on the dance floor, before she allowed a wry grin to twist her lips. Dego glanced at her twin sister with a raised brow. "I know that look, and I like it," she said, her mouth twisting as well into a wild smile. She followed her sister's gaze to fix on Wyvern and Silver Wind. She frowned. "What're you looking at?" "You see what I see, don't you?" Kikuyu purred. "Aye?" Kikuyu nibbled on one of her long nails, eyes hooded with thought. "Let's get some more punch. And after that, I'm afraid we'll have to do some...cutting in. We owe Wyvern a visit." Dego's eyes lit up and the twins grabbed two cups of punch. They stepped out onto the dance floor, completely unnoticed by the unfortunate Wyvern. Silver Wind blinked as the two tall twins appeared suddenly on either side of the Almost-Dragonic salesman. Wyvern gave out a small squeak like a badly squeezed accordian. The girls were gripping him rather tightly by the arms. The dragon smiled up at them. "Hello galsss!" he hissed. "Sssome lively dancing, isssn't it?" Degorram smiled at Wyvern a little too icily. "Sorry Wyv, we're going to have to borrow you for a moment!" Kikuyu grinned with slitted eyes at Silver Wind. "I really do apologize for stealing your dance partner, but we'll bring him back in a flash!" "Whatsss this about, huh?" "We're just going to go talk about the organ donations," Degorram growled as they pivoted and led Wyvern off of the dance floor. "Won't take a second!" Kikuyu and Degorram planted Wyvern on the other side of the room, towering above him with identical spooky glares. Wyvern glanced between them with a faint smile. "What? C'mon, I haven't sssnuck into anyone'sss room lately! I haven't even sssssniffed a Sssstealth-Sprite, and I sssaid I was ssorry for the sscream machine! What else could I have possibly done!?" Wyvern silently went back in his head to try and think of what it might be before the girls (now legendary for their persuasive manners in the art of reminding) decided to refresh his memory. Kikuyu grinned. "You're not in trouble, Wyv. We just wanted to congratulate you. Wasn't it you who brought the insecticide? Anyway, this party is a real...what's the word...blast!" Degorram grinned too. Wyvern glanced between the two girls. "That'sss it?" Degorram nodded, her grin still plastered to her face. "That's it. You can go back to your dance partner, we shan't bother you again!" Wyvern headed back to the dance floor, shrugging. A silly grin came onto his own face as he turned back to look at the twins who waggled their fingers at him, their faces still stretched into grins. Maybe they were finally beginning to trust hi-- Something exploded on Wyvern's back, spraying him with red powder. Wyvern coughed wildly as the cumin found its way into his nose, his eyes watering. Degorram and Kikuyu were roaring with laughter. Kikuyu was actually on the floor, her eyes tearing as she laughed so hard she could not breathe. "Happy Halloween Wyvern!" Kikuyu roared. "Almost-Dragonic-Brand-Pepper-Bombs™! I found them in your room!" Wyvern blinked as he rubbed his stinging eyes. He was about to come up with a good comeback when Silver Wind dragged him back onto the dance floor. "Come on, pepper-boy," she laughed. "Let's dance!" Kikuyu and Degorram leaned against each other, still laughing and wiping their eyes, as they made their way to the wall where other pennites were lounging. Still giggling, they planted themselves on the long stretch of plaster, watching as Wyvern picked up where he had left off with Silver Wind, still choking, but muttering to himself calculations of pepper-bomb sales.

Yes. I know. OK. I think we've kind of over done the whole "Kikuyu do what you want", because as I read back through these posts, they're so redundant I want to scream. I get the point, I understand, let's just drop it now.

Oh trust me, Yui, I know! I suppose as usual my words did not come out the right way when I expressed that I would 'stay away from emo-ranter mode'. But I thank you for your support. Perhaps I'll have to write two poems hand in hand, one about severe death and gloom and one extremely happy one ;P

Kikuyu stood before her mirror, a long, slender paint brush in hand. The sleeveless, flowing black bards shirt she wore opened in a V across her belly and swept down into a sort of jacket at the back. Her black slacks were adorned with endless colorful scarves, tassles, and ribbons. They swayed and twitched as she moved back and forth, painting the curling runes across shoulders, arms, collar bone, hands, and stomach. Her face she saved for last, etching light blue tendrils around eyes and cheeks. Her lips she tainted slightly blue and she smiled at the effect. Bending she pulled on her boots, which were also covered in scarves and sashes. Buckling her belt low around her hips, she sheathed her ever present weapons into their proper slots. The bells on her ankle and wrist bracelets sang quietly as she glided over to her door. Hair hanging loose around her face, half of it tight in a coiled braid at the back of her head, more bells hanging from this: perfect. Kikuyu grinned and the tatoos under her lashes changed from their stoic grey to bright blue. She strode out into the hall to find Degorram and the costume party. As she entered the room, Kikuyu glanced around the perimeter. Hmmmm, no sign of Dego yet. But there was Zool, Wyvern, Mynx, and some freaky satanic creatures in the background, playing something that she assumed must be music. And then-- oh wait! There was Dego, standing at the punch bowl and slurping down (from the look of the empty plastic cups littering the table around her) yet another glass of the 'toxic' brew. Kikuyu sashayed up to her twin and leaned against the table next to her. "Well, Dego, it looks like you spent some time on your costume." Dego glanced at her sister and grinned eerily yet again. "And yourself." She glanced with amusement at the nervous Grimmael. "What do you think's wrong with him?" Kikuyu shrugged. "Who knows. Maybe we should go check it out." She emphasized her words with a cruel, wide-eyed grin. Dego laughed and nodded. "Aye, lets give him a hand!" With identical mischevious grins, Kikuyu and Dego reared up behind Grimmael and Zool, prepared to bring some Halloween joy to their host...