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The Pen is Mightier than the Sword

The Fall Ball


Ayshela

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"Bah, Ayshela gonna kill me, I'm so late." vincent basicly ran down the halls of the Pen, trying to button up his shirt, button his pants, and fix his long hair all at the same time. Needless to say it was quite a sight. When he finally reached the door of the ball room it would be hard to guess that he was a horid mess runing down the halls a few seonds ago. His long silver hair was now perfectly shright, with a bit of it draping over his left eye, he wore a long sleved button up shirt and a pair of loose black slacks. A few silver rings with black fire designs on his fingers, and a silver cross around his neck. He dug around in his pocket for a slightly crumbled up invitation and walked into the ball. He was greeted by the bustling noise of people talking, laughing, and dancing and by the sweet music the band was playing. He couldn't help but smile, maybe he'd get a chance to dance with one of the many lovely women of the Pen. He spoted the hostess and made his way over to her, he genlty took her hand and kissed her hand in a gentalman-like manner. "Wonderfull Ball Ayshela, you've done a great job. Sorry for being so late, but I'm here now. Wouldn't miss it for the world."

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William sat idly by the refreshments table, looking bored and listening idly to the music.

 

"Remember that song, knew that composer...nothing new...nothing different." He muttered, wondering whether he should move from punch to something more stiffer. The night was rapidly degenerating into every other party he had ever gone to, and really, he wasn't up for it right now.

 

On his way to the bar, he noticed something rather strange. A white flute, sitting on a table in the shadows, hardly noticed and very easily looked over in all the finery. It appeared to be carved out of bone, with a strange pattern winding around it he couldn't make out at that distance. Torn between getting drunk enough to leave or grabbing the flute, he stood there mesmerized for a few seconds.

 

"Heya William!" Will jumped about a foot in the air at the sound of Stick's voice. Whirling around he almost throttled the grinning, easygoing guy standing so very close behind him. He hadn't heard him sneak up.

 

"Greetings, Stick - don't scare me like that, damnit." William muttered. "Do you know who's flute that is?"

 

Stick looked at it for a second, then shrugged. "Never seen it before."

 

William stared at it for a few more seconds.

 

"Do you play?" Stick asked, staring at him.

 

"I...I used to. A while ago."

 

"You should, then." Stick nodded, looking for all the world like he had signed an official note.

 

William stared at him almost incredulously, then shrugged and walked over to the table. The flute seemed almost camoflaged by the other stuff on the table, assorted party debris all of it, and when he touched it, he felt the engravings on it, and a chill ran down his spine.

 

Roses?

 

He raised the flute to his lips, the irony of destiny like cold water down his neck, and played a single note.

 

Silence fell.

 

He continued with a song that they used to play years and years ago, a slow ballad about a warrior and his bonny lass, a song nobody knew the words to anymore but he.

 

People danced, and he continued to play.

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"And to think we called you the sane one," Tzimfemme gossiped cheerfully to Gwaihir. Earlier there had been a few tense moments when she'd corraled the former Army of Darkness people in one spot for chocolate sculpture, especially when the master file tried to formulate Yui-chan to be chocolate sufficiently dark without being bitter, but that had passed. Now Gwaihir and Tzimfemme and Degenero clustered around the drinks table, with Gwaihir safely away from the fancy glass punch bowls, reminiscing over less peaceful times and places.

 

Falcon sounded the flute.

 

Tzimfemme discarded the tray so smoothly it seemed to translocate from atop her head to the drinks table. The backwards curve of one arm towards the table trailed behind her as she shifted into a tiptoeing, hip-swaying step. Collarbones led as she sashayed fluidly out to the dance floor. Tzimfemme did not dance: she wrestled (in chocolate mudpits), she paced and loped, she did not concern her upper body with locomotion. Now, enthralled by the flute, she moved like a belly dancer and orbited Falcon in a detached dance totally inappropriate to a winsome ballad.

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Upon hearing the melodies of Falcon's bone flute, Wyvern immediatly stops searching for remaining cake pieces underneath the rug and perks his head up in a curious manner. As the tones of the flute continue to echo throughout the ballroom, the overgrown lizard's pupils slowly dilute and he begins swaying back and forth in a rhythmic manner. The reptilian Elder collapses back to the ground as the flute's sounds pierce deeper and deeper into the unconscious part of his almost dragonic mind, and he eventually begins fluidly slivering across the ground towards the stage.

 

From several different entrances, numerous snakes of various shapes and sizes begin slivering into the ballroom, enticed by the sounds of the mystical flute. Rattlesnakes enter by means of a small opening under the carpet, cobras slide in through cracks in the corners of the walls, boa constrictors drop in through the open windows, and life insurance salesmen enter through the front door.

 

Those who have yet to be hypnotized by the flute stare upwards in fascination as a tough-looking man in camoflauge gear suddenly drops in from the ceiling by means of a stealth bungie-cord. Adjusting the bandana on his head and pulling out a walkie-talkie while simultaneously looking over a crumpled map, the stranger gruffly whispers:

 

"Octacon, this is Solid Snake... I've broken in by means of the roof, but this sure doesn't look like a secret underwater headquarters for nuclear tank projects set to destroy the world."

 

Recieving only static on the other end of the walkie-talkie, Solid Snake pauses for a moment then shrugs and proceeds to help himself to some fruit punch at the refreshments table...

 

As hundreds of snakes begin sliding onto the stage and surrounding Falcon and Tzimfemme in a chicken wishbone formation, Wyvern's progress towards the rest of the serpents is interrupted as he's caught in a tangled mess of wires found near the stage. The overgrown lizard hisses loudly as he tries to find his way out of the jumbled maze, and considers biting through any obstacles that obstruct his path...

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"So Regel how have you enjoyed your stay so far here at the pen?" inquired the lady Ayshela. Regel paused as he finished filling Ayshela's glass and thought about what he was going to say. “I have enjoyed your party my lady." his smile was a well worn one deeply etched in his weathered face.

 

 

"I don't believe you quite answered my question Regel." replied Ayshela.

Regel looked at Ayshela and then dropped his eyes as he began to speak “In truth, I don't know how to answer the question my lady. I have met some very interesting and creative people. I have made some new friendships and renewed some old ones.'' "Do I hear a but in there?" asked Ayshela.

 

The pause was long enough to give Ayshela a taste of what eternity might be like. Regel’s voice was barely audible in the context of the great hall when he began “I have no idea what I am doing here. My role is unclear and my purpose uncertain.”

 

“Your role here and now is simply to enjoy yourself. Have something to eat and drink and then go mingle with my guests.” Lady Ayshela had some guest to greet and she smiled and left him there.

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Elwen sighed under her breath as she surveyed her appearance in her mirror. While she wasn't really vain-

 

:I don't know, 'neesan. I've seen you glued to your mirror for hours before Damon even arrived-: Aural twitted her gently on her vanity.

 

: Otouto, shut that big mouth of yours. You know perfectly well you spent more time in front of a mirror than I ever did.: Elwen said, her loving tone taking any sting out of her words.

 

: Everyone knows I'm beautiful.: Aural remarked with more bitterness than she had intended. Quickly, she changed the subject, not wanting him to relive any of the memories of what he had suffered at Alban's hands.

 

: Do you want to come, Aural? I'll bring you and Roselyn with me.: she asked, knowing that her younger twin used to be a social butterfly. He had settled down, somewhat, after having to tame the elfshadow that lurked in his moonblade, the confrontation with his darker self having changed something in him, but he had still enjoyed social events-and had unsuccessfully tried to get her to come. It was disquieting to see how their positions had changed.

 

: No thanks, 'neesan. I'm...not in the mood, I guess. I'll just stay here with Roselyn and read her poetry or something.:

 

Elwen sighed-Aural was healing, but it would take a great deal of time. She felt guilty, knowing that it was because of her that Alban had kidnapped Aural in the first place, but also knew that there was nothing she could do about it now. At least she had killed the bastard who had dared to touch her brother. Painfully, too.

 

Almost hesitantly, she touched her long silver hair, loose as usual, and listened as musical chimes, the source revealed as tiny, hanging crystal teardrops interwoven with the pale, silken locks, echoed in the room. She decided, with an unusual flair for the dramatic that she rarely exhibited, that she would come in her kitsune form-and donning that form would warn people that she was /really/, /really/ pissed off still.

 

Slowly, the reborn kitsune turned, eyeing her reflection, as the silk of her gauzy robes whispered against the floor. While Elwen was wearing layers of silk, they were thin enough so that the overall effect was that the cloth was just opaque enough in the right places so that no one got too much of an eyeful-though she still showed a lot of skin. The robe she wore normally in kitsune form was similar, but not as fancy-nor was it comprised of several layers. She hadn’t worn clothes like this in a long time, and it was very odd.

 

/Enough looking in the mirror, Elwen./ the reborn kitsune scolded herself. Sliding her feet into simple geta, she left her room, the slightly raised heel of her sandals making only a small clattering noise against the floor. From what she had heard about this ‘Fall Ball’ in the bits and pieces she had managed to pick up, especially from Aural, all the members of the Pen were invited-and she certainly was a member of the Pen, though she had been absent for a while.

 

Remembering something, she turned back and headed into her room. The kitsune picked up a small necklace from the low table near her bed. Ayshela had attempted to be comforting in those chaotic days shortly after she had left the Pen, passing on a message from Damon to her, and Elwen had attempted to make her something which would show her appreciation. This particular necklace had begun life as a simple opal set in a silver choker, the rainbow’s prism in its heart shifting with every passing moment: Elwen had imbued it with very powerful protection spells, even shifting into kitsune form to lay more on, though she had made sure to keep the spell aura low-key. For the others at the Pen who she considered friends, she would make more of the necklaces, though she hadn't found any more suitable necklaces: the only others who had one were Damon and Aural.

 

: Have a nice time, 'neesan.: Aural said.

 

: Take care of yourself.: Elwen replied.

 

When she arrived at the Ballroom's doors, the guards stopped her.

 

"Who are you?" one of them demanded-she had been gone so long, obviously she wasn't recognized-not that she had known enough people to make a difference, anyway. It didn't help that when she had been at the Pen, it had been in Lirya's form, not the one she was originally born in. Elwen felt a headache coming on, and resisted the urge to smack them silly.

 

"Elwen. Also known as Lirya Moonflower and Iriador Wintermist, and a hundred other aliases." the harper snapped, her voice as cold as the heart of winter.

 

"You're a kitsune." the man said, stating the completely obvious.

 

"And? I'm also an Elf." Elwen crossed her arms over her chest, and drew herself up to her full seven-foot (plus about half an inch, due to her shoes) height, as regal as any queen.

 

"That doesn't change what you are." the first man said. "We can't let you in."

 

"What the hell?!" Elwen cursed fluently in the musical language of the kitsune, and then switched to Elven, then Common-she had been having a really bad couple of months, and this only capped it. Her voice was even colder than it had been, as she glared at them. "You really think I'm going to steal everything? I gave up stealing as a career a while ago."

 

That was precisely the wrong thing to say, of course.

 

"You obviously don't trust Lady Ayshela's judgment." Elwen tried her next tack, leaving the death glares until later. “She can invite whoever she wants, and she chose to invite all the members of the Pen-and I certainly am a member of the Pen.”

 

"We don't trust /you/." one of the doormen said, and Elwen seethed: in this form, she was a good deal more cold and ruthless than in her Elven form, even though this personality had softened by Lirya Moonflower’s influence: she was having a great deal of difficulty suppressing the urge to quickly, efficiently, and coldly dispatch them. “And you don’t have an invitation.”

 

Because I was traveling and just got back today, you bunch of idiots! Wait-Elrohir gave me one, when he met me in the hallway, before Damon found me. Elwen realized quickly, however, that she had left the card in the pocket of the white tunic she had been wearing when she had arrived back at the Pen, and said tunic was . She hadn’t been planning on attending the ball at all, but Aural had talked her into it. His words echoed in her mind.

 

I don’t think I can handle being around that many people, even here. But I’m still curious. I want to see through your eyes, ‘neesan. Live through you, what I can’t bear to face. Not yet.

 

I came mostly because of Aural. There is no damn way in hell that I am letting those idiots of door-wardens keep me out-I promised him that I would come, and I always keep my promises now. Especially to Damon and to Aural.

 

Elwen glared at the duo, the same glare that had had powerful demon lords quailing in front of her. They quailed, all right, but refused her entry, obviously as brainless as she had taken them to be on first glance.

 

Fools. While the sight of the woman said to be the most beautiful of her kind stirred to anger was a breathtaking one, it was also /not/ a good thing, considering her considerable amount of magical power, honed skill in wielding it-and her equal propensity for vindictiveness. Unfortunately, they didn’t think of that.

 

They want me to do this the hard way, then.

 

Angrily, she sang a sharp couplet in Elven, a short spellsong. For all its short length, it didn't lack power: not only was Elwen in her naturally more powerful kitsune form, but her anger.

 

The two guards froze in place. Elwen walked right up to them, her cold golden eyes staring at them.

 

“I have killed more beings than I can count in the years that I have lived. Consider yourselves lucky that I did not add you idiots to that number. If I was who I used to be, you would have been dead a long time ago, for making me lose my temper.”

 

Elwen smirks, the mocking expression lifting the corners of her full lips, as she takes a perverse pleasure in watching them squirm, though they are frozen in place.

 

She gracefully walks past them, and into the Ballroom.

Edited by Elwen
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Celes had dragged Doomgaze into a very drunken version of a dance. After all, she had been bored long enough and it was time to let the alcohol go down a bit. Everytime she was about to fall, she managed to find her equilibrium in the last second. She looks over her unfortunate partner and smiles.

 

- Soooo.... do I danzzze velll?

 

The poor Doomgaze wasn't sure if it was a good idea to be truthful to her.

 

- Well, I think that you are a good dancer...

 

- Offf courrzze NOT!!!! I'm a verrry pouti danzeuze!!!!

 

- Well, if you're an awful dancer, so am I. Let's have a "danze poutite" together!

 

While Doomgaze decided to humor the situation, the sylphs decided to pull on evreyone's ties, ribbons, necklaces.

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Ayshela stood by the doorway awaiting the later arrivals, wistfully alternating her gaze between the dance floor and a nice safe section of wall she could almost feel hugging her back. Conflicting desires were ever present, with her, but somehow that never left her less frustrated with them.

 

Her thoughts were pleasantly diverted from the tangle they'd woven themselves into. Parmenion appeared before her stylishly dressed in the softest of silks. He too brought a thoughtful gift, self tanning lotion for days the rain seemed never-ending and she missed the sun so much.. she was so touched by the gift she stumbled over her thanks. "You will of course save me one dance tonight won't you?" he asked? "But of course, i'd be delighted!" Ayshela replied, with beaming smile, as he strolled on into the room.

 

As she stood watching the dancers, Ayshela heard a crash in the room below. Cocking her head to one side, she listened closely, but heard nothing more. She considered going to investigate, but lost the thought as Salinye and Gyrfalcon approached Tamaranis. They conversed briefly, then there was a growing darkness and a sudden blinding flash of light. Ayshela instinctively threw up her hand to block the light while squinting to try to see if everyone was still all right. The light disappeared quckly, showing Gyrfalcon and an upset Salinye, but Tamaranis was gone. Salinye turned and walked toward the tables. Ayshela slowly approached and gently laid a hand on Salinye's shoulder. "Are you alright? Is there anything i can do to help?" she asked. Salinye was answering that she was fine, and no, when the doors burst open and in flew...

 

A couch? Ayshela spun and looked curiously. Of all the many beings she'd invited, she was *quite* sure she hadn't invited a couch. As a few of the guests approached, the center cushion flew up and out popped Big Pointy Stick. She might have known, such an unusual entrance could only be dreamed up by him! She laughed, welcomed him, and suggested he move the couch over by the wall to clear the dance floor.

 

In all the hullaballoo of Stick's entrance, Xaious had slipped in *almost* unnoticed. Hearing him murmuring about being able to get in easy with all the attention on someone else, Ayshela had to laugh. "No you can't, not if you talk that loudly!" He turned to look in confusion, then recognized Ayshela and swept her into a hug that nearly cracked three of her ribs. Setting her on her feet again, he asked about the sugar storage. Noting the time, and deciding she could leave the door for a while without worry, they set off on a brief exploration - destination, sugar! Having found it, Xaious escorted her back to her station at the door.

 

Once there Ayshela turned to make sure all was well and clumsily bumped right into a stylishly dressed stranger! Oh, how awful! She was about to stammer out an apology when he apologized as if it had been his fault! "Oh! Oh, no, that's quite all right.." she said, uncertain how to put him at ease.

He had brought a gift also, though he seemed somewhat uncomfortable in giving it to her. Taking the lovely box, she opened it and gasped in surprise as a spark rose from it to the ceiling and exploded into a thousand beautifully scintillating tiny stars. "It's called a Star Seed," the stranger explained. "Oh, it was certainly beautiful!" Ayshela said softly, still staring in awe at the beautiful effect. She had almost recovered her poise when he asked her to dance, and swept her onto the dance floor for a lovely and very welcome waltz. She thanked him warmly for the dance, and returned to the door as someone else entered.

 

Someone else, indeed.. he strode in before she had gotten all the way back to the door and did not stop to speak to her. Watching closely, she noticed the movement, the motion, was familiar.. white and silver, hints of gleaming gold, where had she seen him before??? He moved like.. and then he turned and she saw - Tamaranis!!! By all the gods and goddesses, *that* was something she never thought to see! As he stopped to speak to Salinye again, Ayshela's attention was drawn by the approach of Peredhil and Regel.

 

Peredhil presented Regel with the utmost of Regal Dignity, as if Ayshela had never met him before. With a small giggle she played along, giving a deep curtsy and happily accepting the request for a dance. Regel lead splendidly, making the Mirror Dance a much more enjoyable experience than usual, then lead her to the refreshments table for some much welcomed punch.

 

While at the refreshments table she almost literally bumped into Degenero Angelus. With a soft cry of welcome, she hugged him warmly and told him how glad she was that he had come, then left him to his singleminded preoccupation with the table.

 

Wending her way back toward the door she kept one eye on the developing fiascos between Wyvvern and Wrenwind, and Gwaihir and Zariah. Sighing and shaking her head she wondered briefly what, if anything, she could do.. the drawback to being the hostess - the everpresent question of whether any attempt to help will only make the embarassment worse. She continued on her way, still trying to decide.

 

Partway around the edge of the room, she neared Peredhil and Elladan, just as Yui stepped from the shadows beside them. Oh! Wonderful! Ayshela stopped and left them to their greetings. She stiffened suddenly as there was a burst of Power, and spun in place, scanning quickly to locate the danger to, or from, her guests. Reaching full circle, having seen nothing, she saw Peredhil and Elladan, and felt the surge of Power fade. mmm. With narrowed eyes she scanned once more, then with a short nod decided that whatever the situation was, Peredhil had it well in hand. After a brief moment she continued on her way, stopping only briefly to drop a curtsy and a warm welcome to Yui.

 

By the time she reached the door she had almost regained her equanimity. This was probably a good thing, as the next guest to arrive simply rapped on the ballroom door. Curious. Ayshela stepped to the door and opened it, then realized that this guest could not possibly have opened the doors. "Good evening, Crow, please come in! I didn't expect to see you without Nyyark, nevertheless, please do enjoy yourself." Crow entered and made her way over to Zariah, who appeared to have been headed toward the door. As they stopped and returned toward the refreshments table, Ayshela sighed in relief, hoping that Crow could help Zariah feel a bit more comfortable.

 

Vincent Silver came in while Ayshela was distracted, but made his way to her, apologizing for being late. "Oh, no, you're not late! At least, not TOO late." She smiled brightly to ease his mind. "There's lots of time yet, people to dance with, refreshments to be had, i'm glad you're here. Come in and have fun!"

 

As Vincent made his way toward the crowd, strangely haunting flute music began to sound throughout the room. Ayshela saw Tzimfemme and Gwaihir begin to dance.. somewhat strangely, as were DoomGaze and Lady Celes. Ayshela's attention was drawn by Regel, who had brought her a glass of punch. She was drawn into conversation by his uncertainty, and discovering that it concerned his role and purpose at The Pen she assured him both that a private conversation would be in order, and that his role at that moment was simply to meet people and enjoy himself.

 

Turning back toward her guests, to make a point, Ayshela was deeply appalled to find Wyvvern had a whole horde of SNAKES invading her ball! SNAKES!!!!!!! Any who saw immediately lost all doubt as to her ability to scale walls, climb trees, and perch on limbs, as Ayshela (high heels, formal dress, and all) immediately used the nearest table as a springboard to a crossbeam and hauled herself up as far away from the snakes as she could. Flipping her skirt up just far enough to reach her throwing knives, she perched on the beam, balancing knives and determing the most effective target. Wyvvern? Well, maybe, but probably not a good idea. Maybe sic Melba on him, though.. (Where WAS she, come to think of it?) Hordes of snakes and a limited number she could take out.. what to do.. what to do..

Edited by Ayshela
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"I don't suppose you dance?"

 

"Not in living memory" Tamaranis answered.

 

"That's not an answer!" Salinye accused.

 

"I suppose it isn't." Tamaranis said, "I'll try and dig up some very old memories for the occasion, and I'll let you know how it turns out."

 

Just then a small bluish creature, perhaps an inch tall attached itself to Tamaranis' sleeve, seized a thread, and began working furiously to pull it out. Without seeming to acknowledge it he lowered his other hand to the creature, curled one finger against his thumb, and flicked it away. Unharmed, it careened through the air, forgetting all about Tamaranis, and selected Daryl as it's new target.

 

"Celes should keep a tighter reign on those, I think" He commented.

 

Salinye looked a little startled by his rough treatment of the Sylph.

 

"Takes a little more than that to hurt them" Tamaranis added.

 

There was a very brief stretch of silence, in which the fact that Tamarnis was not a very good conversationalist, even with familiar people, was readily apparent.

 

"So where did this sudden change come from, anyway?" Salinye asked.

 

"I thought it would be an appropriate retaliation. And I might as well practice social situations incase it ever becomes important."

 

"I almost thought you'd decided to have a good time" Salinye allowed a little sarcasm in her voice.

 

"Not quite."

 

Just then the sound a single flute penetrated the air. It didn't nearly match the regular entertainment in volume, but it seemed to drown it out anyway.

 

"I think perhaps we should not dance to this." Tamaranis stated.

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Vincent looked at the comution of the ball: snakes, haunting music, drunken dancers, and a sofa entrance. This was definatly a Pen ball, where else would such things happen. Vincent couldn't help but laugh looking at the strange sceen. After a few minutes of wall flowering Vincent decided to venture out into the (slightly Snake crowded) dance floor, looking for a young lady (or man, didn't matter to him) to dance with.

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After banishing the experiment cart to the darkest corner of the room Wrenwind tuckes a curl behind her ear ,straightens her skirts and turned back towards the dancefloor as if nothing happened.

 

Dodging snakes and people she madkes her way across to hug DL-Snake and asks him to dance with her to the encahnted flute music. As their feet touch the pollished wood Wren feels her bodice begin to get looser and then sees one of Celes' sylphs slip over her shoulder and down onto the floor. She would have followed it but to do so would have caused her costume to fall in a most embarassing way

 

."DL " in a whispered voice "You need to dance me over to the door. I have to well ...... ummm..... have you do up my dress again" Ever the gentleman , with one hand holding up the slipping apperal DL dances her to the door.

Edited by WrenWind
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William continued to play, and images began to appear. Haunting spectres of days past shimmered into being and swept through the hall, simultaneously scaring and entrancing the assembled Pen members. The power of future and past and present alike soared through William as images roared through the sepulcherous mist that settled over the ball.

 

Cioden forging the Nightshade, his hammer striking the final blow, trapping spider and sword together for eternity.

 

Falcon walking through serene forests, looking much older and calmer than normal.

 

William Azunost lying bleeding in the main hall of a chapel, while ghostly priests look on impassively.

 

The Pen keep, wrecked and ruined, as strange creatures mechanical and flesh crawl over the remains.

 

The flute trilled to a high C, and held it for several seconds.

 

William collapsed.

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After the chilling flute playing, Xaious yet again regained consciousness.

"Would that I could sleep forever.." he muttered.

Looking around at the confusion, the snakes, and the horrible visions still in the air, all he could say was "Damn."

 

"I see you've awaken again. Come on man."

 

"No Vincent, I will not dance with you....How long have you been there?"

 

"Long enough to know you ate too much sugar...again."

 

"Cut me slack, man. It's not easy rippin' through time. And coordinated singing ain't my best suit, ok."

 

"Oh shucks, I missed his singing." Vincent said, with a great deal of sarcasm.

 

"But regardless, this isn't good."

 

"What's that?"

 

"I have great doubts these people should be seeing their futures. Yes, that's exactly what I mean."

 

"How long then till we are destroyed?" asked Ayshela, being as Xaious had steadily walked himself and Vincent in her direction.

 

"Unfortunately, that is some information I cannot give you. Truth be told, I'm not sure, but that technology won't be available for another, oh, century or two. And I've said too much. Oh, and Ayshela,"

 

"Yes?"

 

"I wouldn't drink that if I were you."

 

"Why not?"

 

"Well, you know how practical jokes and lemonade go together?"

 

"...I see....Who did it?"

 

"No, nothing like that, it's just spiked to hell and back. If you drink it, no telling what'll happen. I may just kidnap you from your own thrown ball."

 

"...", because Vincent couldn't say anything else."I'm going try to dance." And Vincent left.

 

"Yes, I do believe I forgot to greet and thank you properly for this wonderful occasion." quoth Xaious, lifting then kissing Ayshela's hand. "May I have this dance?" Someone had regained control of the music, now playing slow dancing music.

 

"You may have this dance."

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Ozymandias swore at no one.

 

Setting down his ballpoint quill-I reallymust remember to thank Caryon for it, he mused briefly-The Loremaster leaned back in his chair far enough to be staring straight at the ceiling. Exasperated, he ran one hand through his now totally grey mane of hair while drumming the fingers of the other impatiently on his seat's oaken arm.

 

A pox on all paperwork!, thought he with feeling. Still, it's what I'm here for... Letting his frustration and boredom win for the time being, his mind began to wander yet again over the couple of years that had gone by with himself as Loremaster of The Pen is Mightier than the Sword. There were many happy times and many bad, as life, even for such unceasingly extraordinary folk as made homes here, could be counted on to grant all living things. However, in his mind, that bulldog thing between his ears that picked a matter up and worried it sometimes until there was nothing left, *his* performance came up more wanting than not.

 

Contemplating further the speedily multiplying list of tasks he needed to get done, his dredging of old failures only magnified the problems. His body folded forward over the unadorned desktop as he held his head in his hands.

 

How much damage did I do? How many did I fail...? He let himself founder for several minutes in what ifs and could have beens for reasons he himself still did not fully comprehend.

 

Slowly, though, he let his attention wander again, and finally extended his senses out far enough to the world around him that he was able to discern the not-so-subtle shift in the sounds of his keep. All was silent, he realized with a start, except for noises of a party. A big one. Laughter, music, and the occasional sounds of furniture breaking that were signature to any social gathering at the Migthy Pen Keep wafted through his window even here in the Tower of Elders.

 

He sat, taking it in for awhile; simply letting others' joy slowly wash away the worry from his heart. Soon he had the gentle prodding of his common sense (or soemthing else) to put it all in perspective showing him real peace. Then all of a sudden, he nearly flew from his seat in his urgency to get away from his desk.

 

"Ayshela's ball! Blast!", he muttered vehemently as he worked to untangle his now rather snarled robe from his chair. Distracted as he was, Ozymandias failed to notice the humanoid form slowly rising, wraithlike from the fossilized Velociraptor egg he kept on his shelf. Soon a towering thing stood behind him, clad in much bronze jewlery around its arms and neck as well as a simple, yet fine cloth wrapped around its waist. It was almost a man, but for the sneering Jackal head that sprouted from its broad shoulders.

 

Ozymandias felt the air rushing around the his attacker before he heard Anubis snarl and dive at his back. The Egyptian god of the dead was determined to settle the old score between himself and the upstart king who had dared try and wield his own power over the dead. None ever had before, and Anubis would not be denied in seeing none would again. He clamped powerful jaws around the wizened man's throat and began to tear. Ozymandias cried out in pain despite himself.

 

Dark, soulless eyes flashed in triumph. Until Ozymandias brought to bear his latest reading project -the tome The History of the Mighty Pen Vol. 1- savagely into his snout. The dark god grunted his pain, but did not let go.

 

"I-", Ozymandias managed to gasp with difficulty. Another smash. "-don't-" Smash. He felt the slavering jaws slacken ever so slightly, even as his effort pumped more blood out of the many punctures in his neck. "-have-" Smash. He kept up the assault anyway. "-time-" SMASH. The Jackal saw stars. Still he held on grimly. "-for-" SMASH! For the first time in recorded history, this lord of the dead's nose sprayed blood. "-you!", Ozymandias finished with fervor, even as he twisted in that steely grip to clout the god upside the head with the ironbound book.

 

For a horrible second, the man who was known a long, long time ago as Ramses the Second felt the flesh of his neck tear like ground beef. Then, as quickly as the fight had begun, Anubis' jaw went slack as he crumpled to the floor, unconscious. Ozymandias strode purposefully over to his bookshelf and quickly dashed Anubis' gateway from the dead- his Velociraptor egg- into dozens of pieces on the floor. The beaten god immediately disappeared.

 

"I'm late for a party," he said once again to no one.

 

****

 

Careful not to bleed on his papers and books but at the same time very conscious of

not letting himself go into shock, the wounded old man became a whirlwind of magical and mundane activity. He mixed herbs, applied poultices -MUST remember to thank Gyrfalcon for those!-, wrapped a bandage, tore through his wardrobe, and wondered vexedly how on earth he'd tame his hair all at once.

Something with a collar, I think, he strategized even as he winced in pain at turning his head. No need to worry Peredhil and others unduly- Aha! Finding the appropriate suit to go with his shirt, Ozymandias laid all out carefully before running for all he was worth down the hall in search of a tub of hot water. His customary garb, he realized now that he paid attention, emitted the most unpleasant smell when he'd removed his armor.

 

A thorough bath, a change into something both presentable *and* hygenic, and a quick styling of hair from a helpful but thoroughly exasperated Mind Ripper he'd summoned [who assured Ozymandias that he'd read several books on the subject, or fed on a hairstylist once(he admitted he couldn't *quite* remember which. At which point Ozymandias eyed the creature's suspiciously light loafers, but said nothing)], the Loremaster was finally on his way to the Fall Ball.

 

****

 

Arriving at the enterance to the ballroom, he was mildly surprised to see door guards. Ah well, he thought with a mental shrug and a small smile. We need a touch of class every now and then, and we can't count on Master Elrond for *everything*. Bowing formally at the waist to the two, he opened his mouth to introduce himself, but was interrupted by a *very* curious reaction of eyes bulging as they took him in and a very swift and barely nonviolent opening of the doors for him.

 

Now thoroughly confused and a little concerned, he resolved to keep a sharp watch this evening. Can't have gotten that rowdy so quickly, can it? Of course, Ozymandias' defintion of "rowdy" verus that of the rented guards' had a gulf akin to The Grand Canyon in its way.

 

Strolling into the room as unobtrusively as he could (he tended to be embarassed by pomp and circumstance these days), Ozymandias decided his first course of action should definitely be to seek out his hostess. As he searched the room for her, he had instinctively already begun to use his mind magics to guage the general mood of each and every guest. It wasn't his party, he had already sheepishly chided himself, but as proprietor of the Pen, he still felt an ingrained responsibilty.

 

He walked quietly forward further, smiling at far off eyes caught, waving to those who noticed him but were otherwise engaged. The pennites in attendance took some small note of his mode of dress- not that it was that radical, but the fact that it was actually something on Ozy other than the robes of his mage school, his royal armor, sandals, and sword caught a few eyes.

 

No, tonight, he was dressed in a softly black three-piece suit, shining black spats, and a gunmetal grey shirt adorned with a tie of deepest blue. All the colors meshed together to accent his bronzed skin and grey hair nicely. As he walked through the moonlight streaming in through the windows, however, he stood revealed in his best finery, as impossibly silver pinstripes appeared on his suit, catching *very* knowing glances from those whose recognized the material.

 

Of those, Guido, Peredhil's Guinea Pig bodyguard was the only one to grin openly.

Now dere's a guy who knows almost as much class as Da Boss. Mithril pinstripes! Ha! Wot'll elf tailors think of next?

 

Ozymandias, meanwhile thought he had finally spotted his gracious hostess when his attention was snared immediately by his psionic senses detecting someone falling far too quickly unconscious. William. Following the echoes of the younger man's thoughts, the Phantasm mage traced him easily to where he had fallen. Struck with worry, but not wishing to make a scence if it were nothing, Ozymandias whispered, "Midi aeuda", and two things seemingly made of shadow themselves flowed from a nearby corner to William's side, one having already fetched him a glass of water and the other- with unearthly "arms" that angled properly could cut through anything on the material plane- gently but firmly helping the man up and into a chair.

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[Guido]

So I'm ridin' da buzz, and then Will' does da Snake Charmer bit. Who'd he t'ink he was? Madame Quixotic.

I'm kinda ashamed, but der *is* an old fight 'tween snakes and guinea pigs, even big tough ones like me. I was up in the rafters wit my gat drawn ready to Shoot Da Big Ones befores I was able ta think again.

I wasn't sure if I'd miss the guests, so I puzzled through da booze and figured out da best plan.

Takin' da Faerie Dragon Ring off, I tapped into sommada Ley lines dat fit dis sorta magic and letter rip.

[/Guido]

 

[Nuncio]

After the lovely gentlemen had fixed up my suits, and run around the corner to Lobbs for the shoes, I was ready to go. I think they remained with cries of pleasure at serving me, whisking away imaginary lint, because this Plane just doesn't get much of a glimpse at magic.

So it was with quite a bit of embarassment that I activated the Portal, only to discover it completely gone.

I tried to think what The Boss would do, and came up with an unfortunate vision of "letting Elladan deal with it - he's best at Portals. You help him." As I'd been trying to think of how to deal with my embarassment, that was NOT reassurance, but definitely motivation.

"My good gentlemen, and lady. If you would be so kind as to exit momentarily," I drew myself up to my full two meter, 21 stone presence and loftily continued, "I must prepare certain magics..."

They scattered like quail.

 

Now all I had to do was reconstruct the Portal. While one day at the Pen was one roughly one week here (and I'd have to remember to account for sideral times), I'd puttered about recklessly spending time. If I wanted to return in the same day, I only had one day left in which to do it.

 

I considered popping the Screamer that The Boss had had emplanted in one of my teeth, but this just didn't seem that bad yet. Plus, a Interplanar Screamer would probably attract much more attention than the family, and some of it closer.

 

After considered the results of Guido's practical joke with *his* Screamer, I mentally shut that door firmly. I'd rather plumb the depths of death by embarassment than have to be resurrected from death by dismemberment. Good thing the Boss had arrived as soon as he had, or Guido wouldn't have made it.

 

He still claimed it was worth it for the looks on everyone's faces.

 

I set to work.

[/Nuncio]

 

[Elladan]

Snakes! I looked, but Guido had already scaled the ceiling. It would've been fun to see if Wyvern could've avatistically consumed a 315 pound guinea pig.

I leaned back to watch the fun, then noted with a frown as Dad started forward with his frown. I couldn't believe he was going to spoil this. It wasn't like he couldn't deal with venom, and a bit of pain would help toughen some of the softer members.

When I saw our hostess, Ayshela, up in the rafters, I realized the potential gaffe of the situation and knew he'd be unable to stay out of it.

With a Polite nod to Yui-chan, I push off after him, allowing my sensitivity to come to full. I'd pay for this with a down later, but there were too many variables not to push it.

I Felt Elrohir react to my Raising, and sent him a quick message in that almost telepathy we share in emergencies.

 

The evening wasn't completely written off - I'd hopefully get to kill snakes, and several of these species made for good dining.

[/Elladan]

 

[Elrohir]

As I sat poised and waiting, I checked the other Portals. All were fine, it was only the London one. I had friends in that Node, some whose families I'd known for generations, although not as long as the Chinese Node.

Rather than worry and expend my energies, I allowed myself to Seek. My conversations and studies with the Valar before we left had given me a tremendous urge to Seek Eru, called Illuvatar, the One. In every Plane since, I'd seen reflections of Eru, fragments of a greater underlying truth of all the Planes. Called by many names, there were always other Seekers. Given my personality, I'd realized a long time ago I'd have to serve the fragments that fit my concept of Good, and would never have the vision to understand the totality.

But it made a nice way to stay at a fever pitch without tension.

 

I felt Elladan push himself up to combat ready. He doesn't seem to realize he draws on all the rest of us when he does. Dad seems an bottomless well and I renew through my clerical studies, but it is a definite draw. Since I already had a weapon drawn, I prepared to Port to him, but he sent a garbled message.

 

Enough got through that I was suddenly angry, although I'm not sure how much was actually me. When 'Dan pushes like that, our emotions tend to snag on each other too.

 

I was guarding Dad's room against Nuncio. Black thoughts of how to chastize him, with odd visions of snakes popping up, boiled up through my brain - until I saw the humor of the situation and shattered them with laughter.

Poor Nuncio, he must be abandoned and terrified. A cross look from Dad was enough to devastate him. With a cheerful whistle, I set off to the Ballroom.

[/Elrohir]

 

[Peredhil]

The music, the ambience, the attendence, the Ball was a success. I love it when people succeed.

Even the mishaps were working themselves out in a manic Looney Tune splendor.

 

I was enjoying this, and enjoying the others enjoyment.

 

When I heard the flute, I admit I quit paying attention for a moment, chasing the memory of its melody down long abandoned corridors of my mind. It was with a start, therefore, that I recognized its power and tune.

 

Too late. Snakes were already here, Wyvern mesmerized. Thank goodness none of the true dragons of the Pen had been present - when the melody ended, their reaction would've been one of rage and greed. That was Tiamat's tune composed and played by a master, designed to befoul even a Platinum's soul, on a Plane where such color/metal prejudices mattered.

 

I waited to see what the others would do, this being an opportunity for people to excel, until I saw our Hostess up in the Rafters, teeth skinned back bloodlessly across a smile that looked too much like Elladan in a snit.

 

Really, that was just RUDE.

 

While I really hate being active, one never knows when the echoes through probability will end or where they will sound, this was just inappropriate.

 

I stalked forward, and felt with no surprise Elladan Raise behind me. It was a quaint trick he'd learned from 'Sam' on that paranormal planet with the disembodied "demons" on which we'd been stranded, but then, Elladan was always one for tricks. He really didn't have the true confidence that comes from being centered and letting the universe flow through you.

I felt Elrohir pop in behind me and noted he was nice enough to whisper an apology to Yui before slotting in behind.

 

Riffling through the most convenience and least disruptive spells and powers I had available, I decided on a True Name of Reptiles I'd acquired in one of my rare occasions of gambling. With it, I could request an Avatar who could take all its children away harmlessly.

 

Getting into the correct range, I let the Word form, and felt its acid crawl up my throat, its attempt to fit free from my Will. As it hissed and writhed over my tongue, I opened and gently released it with my Request.

 

The soundless thunder unfortunately echoed painfully on any who had the ears to hear.

 

And mixed with the sound of Guido's Spell.

 

I hadn't anticipated magic from him.

 

The mixture did not bode well.

 

As the blackness passed from my eyes, I felt 'Dan and El's hands propping up my arms, and the first thing I saw were thousands of butterflies and tiny slyphs dancing in the domed ceiling.

 

I was actually a bit reluctant to lower my eyes and see what had happened.

[Peredhil]

 

[Guido]

Oops.

Didn't t'ink da Boss would've done dat sorta t'ing. He normally don't do nutting lest he hasta. Shoulda realized that a party gone wrong would set him off.

 

With a shrug, I settled back against the rafter. Too late now I thought with a grin. Might as well enjoy the floor show so I could tells Nunce about it later.

 

Where *was* Nuncio?

[/Guido]

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Damon sat floating amidst the never-ending war and the chaotic winds of the Abyss, contemplating on the invitation he had recieved. It was odd seeing something so regal and flamboyant in a place of infinite evil.

 

His eyes fluttered closed in concentration, his ebony hair whipping around him in no particular direction. There was a spark of power in his mind and he perked up, attuning his senses to the location. It was coming from the Material Plane, and the only place with that sort of concentrated power would be the Pen. No one else on the planet believed in magic.

 

"Elwen?" he asked himself in his mind, keeping his telepathy tuned to any other demons in the area. The concept of love was punishable by death in this Plane, and if anyone, especially Demogorgon or Graz'zt discovered that he was in love with Elwen... well, Hell wouldn't have a punishment suitable enough.

 

His hand twitched, his rapier flashing out to destroy an eavesdropping quasit. He was always under watch, so he often found himself killing random creatures to keep his secret of Elwen just that... a secret.

 

He focused himself and chanted briefly before flickering out of the Abyss and arriving near the walls of the Pen. Two guards stood at the front gate, awkwardly rigid.

 

You know, you don't have to go. he told himself, pulling the invitation out of his pocket. It glimmered in the sun, the gold monogram depicting his name.

 

"Whatever..." he muttered quietly, burning the invitation. "I don't need this to get in there." He focused once again, phasing back in in front of the two guards who were standing still. They had drawn an audience of sparrows and squirrels, but Damon waved them away.

 

"Well... ummm..." he looked balnkly at the two guards, realizing they were being magically held in place. "You didn't piss Elwen off, did you?" He sighed, feeling nervous for some reason. Perhaps, he thought, it was due to the measure of power that was coming from inside the ballroom. He removed the enchantment from the guards and started to walk past.

 

"While I'm grateful to you sir for helping us, I need to see your invitation. obod y gets through without an invite."

 

"Somehow I get the feeling that you did this to Elwen too." he commented blandly. "Well, sorry to disappoint you, but I burned it." he held out the ashes in his hand.

 

"Well, then I guess you burned your chance of getting through here." the other guard said rather snidely. "So, how about you just turn around and go back to the Abyss?"

 

"Do all of you guards have an attitude problem? Frankly, i'm shocked you're still alive, especially after upsetting my..." He cut himself off.

 

"Upsetting your what, sir?"

 

"Well, after upsetting Elwen anyway." He looked at he ground, ashamed he couldn't say it in the open. He could still be watched as long as he was on the outer walls.

 

"You mean you and--" he cut himself off as Damon grabbed his throat.

 

"You'd best not finish that sentence, but yes." He set him back down. "In any case, I suggest you let me through. I may not have the sort of power that Elwen has, but I won't hesitate to kill you like she apparently did. Either you let me through and ignore the fact that I don't have my invitation anymore, or you die."

 

"...you know what? Never mind." He shut his eyes and teleported into the building.

 

He looked among the group of people below him as he hovered in the air, almost touching the chandelier, and spotted a kitsune amongst the masses, gossamer clothes and all. He suddenly became very happy and rushed over and glomped on his beloved. "Meow!"

 

"Eh... I see you've decided to come unhindered today..." he commented, noticing her outfit. He was quite used to it from when they were enemies, but she'd never done it in public before. Besides, he hadn't ever seen her in a calm state before... at least in this form. "I noted your little quarrel with the guards... funny."

 

(Meow... >'_'< That has got to be the worst post I've ever done... Well, i'm here at this litle ball thingy... Meow... Ignore the first part of it if you want, y'all.)

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The snakes were slithering across the dance floor, and people were either watching in bewilderment or scampering out of the way. Wyvern was hissing ferally, wrapped like a Christmas package in the wires from the stage, while around him lamps and microphones and speakers were crashing to the ground because of his struggles. Peredhil and Elladan had already stepped into the fray, the elder's expression bespeaking some severe consternation, and even Elrohir had popped into existence to offer his support.

 

Yui-chan nodded politely to the older twin and followed a few paces behind him, her face quickly falling victim to a worried frown. That the Peredhil family had all gathered together to take action was not just worrying, but alarming. She may not have been paying attention to the entirety of William's song, but she'd tasted the power in it and seen him fall at the end. Obviously, they'd sensed more danger than she in the simple snake-charming. Knowing that they could handle the magical aspects of the problem, she split from the half-elves, easing through the crowd towards where she'd seen William collapse. He might need her ascendant training.

 

She only made it halfway across the room before Peredhil's Words stabbed needles of pain behind her eyes that twisted and grew as Guido's spell warped it. The energy spun into something completely different, propagating like a wave along the floor of the room. An alarm went off in her head as she felt her senses dull, and she stumbled, tripping over a wire pulled taught by a flick of Wyvern's tail. All around the room, there were sounds of surprise and murmurs of confusion as perceptions shattered and then realigned, the world flipping and the settling down in a different place.

 

The Huntress blinked, shaking her head as she looked around. The other party-goers were recovering themselves as well, some obviously just regaining their feet. Gyrfalcon, standing not far away, looked as bewildered and confused as she felt, and she watched as he raised his hand to his face. It may have been a strange motion, but it wasn't alarming until she watched him wiggle his fingers experimentally and flick his tongue out of his mouth. Yui gasped, and the ranger turned to look at her, his eyes narrowing warily. But it wasn't Gyrfalcon behind that gaze; there was too little thought and too much instinct.

 

The snakes. Yui squirmed, intending to get up, but she couldn't seem to move properly. Her arms and legs were held together as if they'd been tied. She frowned and wiggled her fingers. Sure enough, something moved - she could feel the digits against her side. Her mouth was even held, wrapped by what felt like rope around her nose. She mumbled as best she could, watching as Gyrfalcon's body slowly stepped towards her, his teeth bared. He looked for all the word as if he was going to bite her, and she really wasn't keen on the idea of hanging around to find out if that was true.

 

The young woman squirmed all the harder, hoping to dislodge whatever held her, but the only result was the clatter of something heavy hitting the floor to her left and a tightening of the bonds around her. Only her tail was free to -- her tail?! Yui nearly squeaked aloud at the thought, her blood freezing. Her mind racing, she strained to turn her head enough to look down at the rest of her body.

 

The moment she caught sight of red scales and black electrical cords, Yui Temae did something she had never in all her life done: her eyes rolled back in her - er... Wyvern's head, and she fainted dead away.

 

Above the chaotic dance floor, Ayshela and Guido sat safely in the rafters, staring down at the aftermath of Peredhil's spell with no small amount of chagrin. The party's hostess was grimacing and wondering what she could do to properly apologize to everyone (after the snakes were gone, of course) while the guinea pig bodyguard was practicing his apologetic speech and trying hard not to imagine Peredhil's frown. Their eyes met across the dome of the ceiling, and they shared the same thought.

 

This had the makings of a long, long night.

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It never occured to Tamaranis that whatever spell Peredhil was casting could be dangerous to the general population of the Ball Room. It would be rude, to cast something that threatened them, afterall.

 

But as the magic Peredhil was casting merged with Guido's spell, he felt something decidedly unpleasant press into his mind. He didn't show an outward sign of strain, but simply closed his eyes and focused inward, on repelling whatever it was.

 

Tamaranis brought the void to the surface of his mind. And intruding mind pushed forward, either an overconfident or very poor psychic, it was easily tripped into the gaping nothingness and became no more. The attack did not stop, however, other minds pressed the attack. Several more were unmade before Tamaranis encountered something more sinister.

 

Tamaranis became aware of two things. The first was that whatever this new attack was, it possessed a level of hateful power that rivaled his own. It fed on death, with one with death, and so could not be destroyed by the void as the others were. The second thing was that this power was not only trying to get in, but something else was trying to pull his own mind out.

 

Tamaranis focused, anchored himself. He managed to mumble a few phantasm spells, but he was a nether mage by specialty, and this presence darted around them, unceasing. For several moments he struggled against it. He opened his eyes, searching for some physical point to attack, but could find nothing.

 

Slowly he began to lose mental ground, and his thoughts were filled with static.

Then everything was clear, but he wasn't standing where he had been. He was much nearer the door. He felt something heavy dragging on one arm, and looked down to see that he was wearing a suit made of a darker material than he'd been wearing, and there was a briefcase in his hand.

 

Tamaranis took a breath without thinking about it, which surprised him. There was a *very* strange look to the ballroom, and he noticed that his vision was being impeded by darkness and facilitated by light. That was surprising as well. Extremely surprising was when he looked over to the bar, where he and Salinye had been talking, and saw himself staring back.

 

And Tamaranis realized with a start that he become one of the life insurance salesmen summoned by the haunting music of the flute. The life insurance salesman in his body seemed to be adjusting, rapidly to being a different sort of vampire. Shadows formed closely around him, and rotated a bit with a wave of his hand. Wasting no time, the saleman in Tamaranis' body turned to Salinye and suggested that with so many venemous snakes around, this was a good time to think about buying. Who would pay for her funeral expenses if something happened? Salinye stuck out her tongue, then made a hissing noise in response.

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Wyvern, or rather Wyvern's personality and collected thoughts, awake in a daze as he finds himself standing upright, suddenly free of all the inconvenient wires that had previously trapped him. Relieved that there are no longer any large amplifiers raining down on him from the skies above, he places a hand on his head as he tries to recollect his blurry thoughts... Suddenly noticing that his lab uniform seems to have transformed into a comfortable dark cloak, it takes Wyv a few moments before he realizes that he can't feel his horns (and this refers not only to the two resting on his head)...

 

Stuttering, he briefly touches his head of blond hair with his right hand and his eyes suddenly widen. Staring at the chaos on the dancefloor and glancing once again at his cloak, he murmers:

 

"I must be dreaming... I could never afford a cloak like this."

 

Wyvern jumps and gasps at the sound of "his" own voice. Smooth, melodic and distinctly feminine... it was YUI's voice.

 

Frantically glancing left and right in panic and confusion, the greed element of Wyvern's personality momentarily kicks in as he quickly removes the earings off of his ears and looks them over thoroughly. Labeling each of them with a price, he pockets them in a cloak pocket before complete and utter panic sets in.

 

Running up to the figure of what appears to be Peredhil, Wyvern/Yui proceeds to rapidly shake the half-elf by his shoulders and exclaims in a frantic voice uncharacteristic of Yui:

 

"Big P, ya gotta help me! This is even worse than that infamous Legionnaire challenge sheep flock incident! Listen, I admit to spiking the punch with a coupla spare chemicals from the rack, but I never thought it'd amount to this! Help!!! I'm too young to not have any scales!!!"

 

The head of Peredhil stares sharply at Wyvern/Yui, the polite half-elf's personality switched with that of an aggravated spitting cobra. The cobra/Peredhil opens it's mouth and politely hisses, rapidly spitting a half-elven loogie directly towards Wyv/Yui's face. Fortunatly, a shadow rift created by the silouhette of an approaching member protectively opens in front of Wyv/Yui's face at that very moment, and the spit flies through the shadows... eventually landing in Solid Snake's drink.

 

Wyvern/Yui then proceeds to rush away from the scene, desperatly searching for some form of sanity and a way out of this mess while being careful not to harm the delicate body. After all, Yui-chan would be getting it back eventually, and Wyv knew that most folks weren't quite as accustomed to being involved in major disasters as he was... ;p

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Regel quietly stood by the buffet table sipping wine and enjoying the marvelous hot brie he had found on the table on a cracker with some chardonay icewine jelly. All around him chaos had broken loose with the sudden appearance of snakes. "Poor creatures are probably as frightened as the people scampering to get out of their way." Regel thought to himself. Walked over to open the door and allowed several serpents to slither silently into the night. "Oh no!" Regel said aloud as he looked down at a creature that had been trampled. He quickly reached for his bag and pull out an item that restored the animal immediately. He watched with a smile as the small creature escape into the night and started think about the idea himself.

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DoomGaze uncontrollably nodded his way through Celes' drunk and disfigured questions. Having no clue what she had last said, and still nodding, he watched some snakes slither inbetween him and the drunken lady. It didn't appear that Celes knew there were snakes about in the room, as she clumsily tried to dance and twirl her way towards DoomGaze. To his surprise, her feet narrowing missed each snake that passed by, and he sighed in relief.

 

"That was a close one" he said.

 

She looked confused and replied "A clooossse uone?"

 

"Yes, you stepped on some snakes"

 

"Snnaaakessz? Yoou meeans the snaaakez danze, non? I cun doo ze snaaakez danze."

 

Celes started to do an awfully confusing and eerie dance. DoomGaze slapped his forehead, and used his hand to cover his eyes. He then peeked to look, only to see her continuing the dance. She didn't stop because she had her eyes closed, and she couldn't see DoomGaze's expression on his face. He then looked in the direction of Annael, who remained alone at the bar, where Celes had dragged him from. She giggled at him, and it caused him to put his head down in embarassment, to hide that he had blushed. Some of the guest looked towards Celes and looked shocked, which caused more and more people to stare at the two.

 

"Celes, Celes" he whispered. "Everyone is looking your way."

 

She opened her eyes to see almost everyone staring at her, each one trying to keep themselves form giving off laughter.

 

"I tuldz you i wasssn't a guud danzcer!" she explained "Evereeonez iz loookin ats mee."

 

DoomGaze them signaled to Celes that maybe dancing was not a good idea after all. He took her hand and led her back to the bar stool where he had found her.

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Salinye closed her eyes against the blinding pain that suddenly radiated within her mind. It seemed to have dropped upon the room and her like a veil floating and twisting in the wind descending upon the guests. As it's stabbing magical assault began to fade she opened her eyes and was struck horror struck by the things she was seeing. The first noticeable difference was that the brilliant colorful room was now a hazy form of grayscale. She saw no true detail or definition. Some objects in the room contrasted brightly against the multi-hued grey objects within the room. Objects….The objects are moving…The objects are people…

 

Consumed by confusion as to why her vision was so different it took a few moments before the wizardess realized that she was looking down onto the dance floor from above. At the same time that this realization was surfacing she noticed how different she felt. She was comfortably stretched and twisted. A sinking feeling suddenly began to develop within her stomach as she raised her head off of the beam of the rafter to look down at her white sleek python body coiled around the wooden structure.

 

 

Meanwhile….

 

Tamaranis the Insurance Salesman raised an inquisitive eyebrow at Salinye after she hissed at him. Being a salesman, he was used to being met by hostilities. He didn’t mind. It just gave him a chance to work his charm and warm up the sale. “I’m sorry, I didn’t properly introduce myself. The name’s Thomas, Thomas Windigo.” Giving a charming smile he stuck his hand out to the elf offering a trust gathering handshake.

 

Salinye responded by leaning forward and clenching her jaws down tightly upon the vampires hand. The serpent not being used to standing on elven legs clumsily fell to the floor as it did so. However it did not relent it’s grip upon his hand causing the insurance agent to be jerked down unexpectedly. The woman glared at him menacingly as she held his hand between her teeth as small trickles of blood dripped onto the marble floor.

Edited by Salinye
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William awoke staring around at the confusion. Snakes were everywhere and people milled about strangely. His head hurt like hell and there was a vague tingling sensation all over his body.

 

 

Suddenly the memory of what he had done flooded back into him, and he stared in horror at the flute in his hand. Oh gods, I unleashed a song of power here? he wondered, terrified at the implications. His mind rushed back over ages, trying to identify the song.

 

"Tiamat'sss sssong." Peredhil hissed at him awkwardly, swaying over him and looking very vexed. "Written by a great bard onssse to charm dragonssss and draconic relatives. Unfortunately in my attempt to counteract the effectsss, sspellsss went awry, and the resultsss have been...unpleasant, to sssay the least."

 

William looked at him, wishing fervently that he could just wake up and it would all go away.

Edited by Peredhil
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Annael giggled as she watched Celes' snake dance and Doomy's embarassed expression. Feeling something brush against her foot, she looked down at the snake that was gently tasting her skin.

 

"Hey there little buddy," Annael said quietly, the little snake flicked it's tongue at her in reply. Wiggling her bare toe in response, Annael and the snake introduced themselves. Leaning down, Annael picked the little snake up in her palm. Giving a little hiss of pleasure, it slithered along her palm, and up her arm. Coming to rest on her bicep, it curled itself securly there and settled in to stay. Seeing the bartender giving her a weird look, Annael ruffled her feathers.

 

"What, you got something against snakes? I happen to like them." The bartender hissed at her. Annael rolled her eyes and turned back to the ballroom, watching the frantic actions of the Pennites as the little snake on her arm gave her a little lick.

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