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Slam Quest


reverie

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Slam Quest O.O.C. thread


“Preparation…” he said to no one in particular, “It’s all about Preparation…”

Garbed only in a towel, the somewhat damp figure removed the razor, and then continued his discourse...

“See, the world revolves around improvisation: Adaptation, Evolution, Natural Selection… all that,” he continued, waving the razor to punctuate... “That’s just Nature improvising…ya know, filling in the gaps, so she isn’t so lonely…”

The figure turned a cheek up towards the sharpened entity…then the other.

“But, you can’t create nothing from nothing,” he cautioned. “You, have to prepare…prepare today and tomorrow’s chances won’t pass you by…

Finishing up, the figure smiled into the mirror, then washed the lather from his face…

“It’s going to be a glorious day, I just know it,” he said still smiling…

Edited by Tanuchan
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Decoy a.k.a. The Mighty Lawn Dart, personal messenger to the Dreamlost puttered about his route.

 

Decoy look over his list, "let's see, only 19 more messages and then it's back to the ole' watering hole..."

 

"19..." he wondered, "I wonder just what's so important with all these messages, that they have be sent out all at once"

 

"Well, better find out, with this many sent out, there's bound to be quite a few spelling errors, " he said.

 

"And we can't have the Master of the Dreamlost Relm, looking like an ignorant fool, now can we..."

 

With that The Mighty Lawn Dart, opened up the Letter marked for Fountain, reasoning, he could just tell the young lad in person the next time he saw him...

 

 

***~~~***~~~***~~~***~~~***~~~***~~~***~~~***~~~***

A Merry Welcome to One and ALL.

 

The Mighty Pen Carbaret Room will be hosting a Quill Quest Event for Revery the dreamlost, and would be honored by your presence and participation...

 

The Theme will be that of a Poetry Slam with principle players herein listed:

 

 

STAFF

 

Master of Ceremonies: Revery

Hostess: Zariah

Featured Guest Poet: Cyril Darkcloud

Waitstaff: Mynx and Tanuchan

 

Poets and Judges

 

Open Mike Poets:

Fountain, Zariah, Tanuchan, drummondo, Vlad, and Ayshela

 

Slam Poets:

Mira, Loki Wyrd, Katzaniel, drummondo, and cryptomancer

 

Judges:

Vlad, Wyvern, and Ayshela

 

V.I.P.'s

 

Expected in attendance:

Nyyrak, Cerulean, Peredhil

 

 

***~~~***~~~***~~~***~~~***~~~***~~~***~~~***~~~***

Edited by reverie
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The Mighty Lawn Dart turned the message over again in his hand. It seems he’d been delivering quest invitations for weeks without even a hint of resignation. Now that he thought about it, it had all been pretty much routine now and all seemed in order. Well that is, until this…

 

“Maybe it was a mistake,” he thought. “Then again, even if it was, who was he to question the Dreamlost…?”

 

The Mighty Lawn Dart was the curious sort… Habitually nosey really, which is not the sort of quality one might expect in a high level emissary, such as himself, but if nothing else he was loyal… He took his duty seriously and if duty bound him to dispatch ‘any' message the Dreamlost thought important, and then dispatch he would. Proof reading them of course, for minor spelling mistakes and what not.

 

Still this message bothered him, “Could the Dreamlost really want Fountain of all people to present at his quest?” He continued, “The boy’s was a nervous wreck. a real piece of work...”

Edited by reverie
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“Today… it’s today!” Fountain shouted as Decoy fled the room...

 

Fountain paced ‘round and around the keep. Oh why didn’t he prepare something sooner, he thought.

 

A pained expression crossed the young lad’s face, “…and Revery’s quest is tonight, and I’ve got nothing,” he said aloud.

 

“Nothing!”

 

Burying his face into his hands, the lad muttered, “It’s going to be horrible horrible day, I just know it…”

Edited by reverie
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Zariah had prepared for this day for a couple weeks now. She had ordered all kinds of food from the best Chefs in the realm. She had considered using the catering service that was at the Valentine's Ball, but decided to hire a staff of her own to make things a different experience.

 

A bit concerned with all that she had to do, she put two particular people in charge of food service: The head waiter, a new member whom Zariah was eager to befriend and the head waitress a familiar face around the Pen Keep.

 

After gathering the lists and checking off all the supplies for the big event, Zariah scurried to her room to rehearse the poem she was going to read later at the Slam. She was honored to also be hostess to the guests and greet at the door.

 

After cleaning up and putting on an attractive black party dress, Zariah headed back to the Cabaret room to finalize decorations and see to what Revery might need.

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Mynx grinned widely to herself as she showed up at the Cabaret Room carrying a large duffel bag. Smiling and waving as she saw Zariah, Mynx headed to the kitchen to change into her waiting gear for the event.

A few moments later, Mynx returned in an exceedingly interesting choice of outfit: white leg warmers, orange hot pants, a tight white t shirt, hair tied back in a ponytail, and a pair of owls, one on each shoulder.

Zariah blinked at her feline friend, before she burst out laughing.

"Oh, that's brilliant!" she laughed. "But why the owls?"

"Copyrights," Mynx stated simply, continuing to grin. As if on cue, the pair of owls both let out an identical 'Hoot', causing the rest of the Room's inhabitants to look up in surprise while Zariah doubled over with hysterical laughter.

Still grinning, Mynx tilted her head.

"Think the guys will like it?"

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In the corner of the room a table sat the scatterings of paper and quills and a smalll silver wand hidden under the small tower of demitass coffee cups. downing his 18th double espresso in a little under an hour Cryptomancer paused in his preperations for the event, looking a tad startled as Mynx walked past with her owls and tight shirt.

 

Grinning as Mynx waved, Cryptomancer lifted his 19th shot to his lips, a smile creeping into his eyes. As he downed the shot, his finger rolled a small silver bell around on the table top.

 

:raven:

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I've heard talk about a poetry contest coming up soon, Gabriel thought into Horace's mind. And I've decided I'd like to participate.

 

"You? Poetry?" asked the demoness, nearly dropping her briefcase in surprise.

 

Hey, stop shaking me around so much, Gabriel muttered, long used to life in a briefcase at this point. And yes, poetry. I mean, why not? As long as you can't find the underworld, as long as you're living in this writing place, why shouldn't we join in sometimes?

 

Horace shrugged, forgetting as always that her captive could not see her. "Just don't expect me to help you out."

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Thomas jumped at the owls hooting right at his back, and in his hasty movement his legs got entangled in Mynx' tail, sending him straight to the ground. Mynx yelped as his hand grabbed her t-shirt in an attempt to regain balance, and the owls fluttered angrily.

 

"Huh... oh... sorry... hey, tell them to stop!" Batting his hand against the owls only made them angrier, and soon Thomas' voice could be heard from under the nearest table - where he had crawled in for safety. "Have... have they gone?"

 

Zariah nodded, observing Mynx soothing the owls and checking her t-shirt. "Yes, Thomas... erm... welcome to the Conservatory..."

 

Thomas, now standing in front of Zariah, bows with a smile. "It's a pleasure to be here, lady... hopefully I can add to the entertainment of the night..."

 

The fleeting memory of his previous meeting with Zariah didn't seem to disturb Thomas, though there was a suspicious suprised blink from Zariah. The minstrel-turned-waiter grinned, and turned to get a tray of beverages that needed to be served.

 

As he stumbled dangerously in passing by Mynx and her owls, Thomas sighed softly.

 

I'll have another chance to play and sing... and I know this time it will all go well... after all, Thomas of Taigel is a renowned minstrel!

 

What Thomas didn't want to remember was that his previous attempt to sing had been another one of his usual performances - the ones he was renowned for: suddenly forgetting the words to the song, stuttering over hastily improvised verses, he had succeeded in annoying a couple of customers who had taken some bad rhymes as a joke on them. It had been only Zariah's kindness that had saved him from the usual catcalls and general laughter. And, without money to pay for lodging and not willing to accept it for free, he was here now - being the waiter while the Slam Contest happened without his presence.

 

"I should have paid more attention to the announcements..." he mumbled, holding a glass of wine while ignoring the outstretched hand of the guest in front of him. "I am an excellent slammer!"

 

Thomas finally hands out the glass, slamming it into the proferred hand with surprising force.

 

"Hey!"

 

"Oh! I'm sorry, sir!" He clumsily tried to clean the spill - that fortunately had missed most of the guest's clothing - while his mind went over the poem he had prepared earlier.

 

At least I'll have the open mike... better than nothing...

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Nuncio pushed his chair back and dabbed hastily at the Pina Colada staining his suit. "Boss?" He said helplessly, then sighed in relief as Peredhil absently provided a cleaning spell.

 

Nuncio's suit was clean, as was the table, and Thomas.

And the floor, and the glasses, now uncontaminated by beverages. Minor loose dirt was gone, nasal passages cleared, and earwax no longer blocked ear canals.

Guido, quick as always, had pushed back his chair to avoid Peredhil's spell. When Peredhil was preoccupied, he always meant well, but one had to be careful what was asked.

 

Both bodyguards sighed.

 

It was gonna be a long night unless Peredhil could come up with an inspiration.

 

Nuncio ordered a new drink.

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Scarlett has been there since the crack of late morning, hoping to eye up the best vantage point for eyeing up the talent. She's examining the gathering with a gaze that slips through clothing like a fin through water.

 

Raising her drink to toast herself and the evening's events, she chuckles inwardly, that is until she notices that her glass is suddenly, magically and unaccountably empty.

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She had almost recovered from two intense emotional hits- the hilarious amusement of Mynx's "special friends"...and the concern for Thomas and his...er...lack of grace...she could really sympathize, being clumsy herself, but...he was a mess. Zariah would do everything she possibly could to help him maintain as much dignity as he could....

 

Just as she had begun to relax about everything....Thomas proceeded to make a complete mess. Sighing, Zariah just shook her head as she watched as Peredhil fixed that one. She caught his eye and gave an apologetic smile and aided Thomas to his bearings again. She glanced around and still saw no sight of Revery, so she proceeded to bring out a cart of appetizers for distribution.

 

She made her way to toward the doors where she saw some others arrive. Again, that nervous uncertainty hit the pit of her tummy as she remembered that she’d have to perform something soon….

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Seeing that her friend looked nervous, Mynx walked up behind Zariah and placed a friendly paw on her shoulder.

"Don't worry," she smiled. "I'm sure you'll do fine. And I'll try my best to keep Thomas out of trouble, or at least clean up after his messes."

As if on cue, a loud crash of shattering glasses echoed throughout the room.

With a rueful grin as the pair of owls on her shoulders hooted, Mynx picked up a tray and cloth and went along to do her job, raising her tail slightly in hope that Thomas wouldn't stand on it again.

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"Oh... thank you... erm... I hope I didn't hurt your tail... I mean.. you..." stammered Thomas when Mynx suddenly appeared at his side to help cleaning the broken glasses.

 

"You're a charming kitten... huh... maid... maiden... " he tried a sheepish smile, fixing his puppy-dog eyes on Mynx. "And your owls are... so... inspiring... I might create a song for them... "

 

On cue, both owls hooted and fluttered their wings, cocking their heads and staring intensely and unblinkingly at the minstrel, who swallowed and looked pleadingly at their owner. When Mynx nodded, he reached a finger to caress the downy chest of the owl perched on the right shoulder. "Huh... you're a hooting... haunting beauty... "

 

Mynx smiled, patting Thomas' arm gently. "Don't you be scared of them... they're certainly harmless..."

 

Unfortunately for the minstrel, though, the touch of a feline's paw on his arm was completely unexpected - as his mind hadn't yet decided if his companion was an overgrown and charming cat, or a somewhat feline woman. Startled, Thomas poked his finger sharply into the owl's chest.

 

 

 

Some time later, Thomas eyed warily the owls as Zariah finished salving his scratches, then sighed deeply staring at his finger.

 

"I hope it isn't ruined..."

 

He stretched it carefully, and reached out to recover his lute from inside a cupboard. Stroking it tenderly, he smiled and started to play a simple lullaby. Mynx looked at him in awe, for the music was soft and soothing, and the melody reached straight to her heart. The owls blinked, and soon one of them hid his head under his wing.

Edited by Tanuchan
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This evening she arrives barefoot. She cannot understand the protocol of shoes where burning sand or freezing snow does not dictate necessity. Her feet and palms are filigreed with intricate henna patterns and around one ankle a silver chain rises and tinkles in tune with her footfalls. She is dressed simply in indigo silk. So far her face is inscrutable, yet her presence whispers a history as she moves across the room.

 

Cerulean perceives a harsh crimson aura off left and instinctively bears right to avoid Scarlett. She is excited at the prospect of an evening of poetry and performance, thus unwilling to have Harpy's bawdiness contaminate it.

 

Not certain where to sit, she is soon compelled towards the lilt of Thomas's lute, so positions herself near enough to appreciate the soft melodies, yet far enough away to avoid intrusion.

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Mynx smiled softly as she listened to the music, its tune bringing to memory the music she had once enjoyed in her past. Shaking herself out of it before her memories returned to a topic she was trying to avoid, Mynx smiled as charmingly as she could at Thomas.

"That's very beautiful," she purred, not realising the severety of her actions.

With a noise that sounded like a strangled goat coming from the instrument as his concentration was drawn away from the melody sharply enough to ruin the tune, Thomas jerked his head up at Mynx's voice with a surprised "Huh?"

Seeing Mynx grin at him with her sharp carnivore's teeth, he temporarily forgot that she appeared friendly as panic overtook.

With a startled yelp of terror, Thomas tried to back away, succeeding only in tripping over the stool he was on and sending several of the glasses on a nearby table crashing to the floor.

Sighing softly, Mynx bent down and helped the fallen Minstrel up, before returning to her job of cleaning up the mess, the owls on her shoulders hooting indignantly as they were awoken.

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Nyyark hacked up another cloud of dust. It was everywhere. Apparently these magic beans the witch doc' gave him weren't working on his RLS afterall. But he was wise to it now. It all started because he'd made a promise to Zariah. He'd show up at the ball. Sure. Just that he was kindly gated to a town 20 miles away by a helping friend who didn't realize he didn't possess the capablity to get back. Atleast not without walking for the rest of the night and half the next day. Then the blackouts began. About a month before her Quill Quest. Real Life Syndrome had been his diagnosis, and even though being a pennite put him at a much greater risk of contracting it, his seemd awfully fishy. Especially when it seemd to be getting better right up until he put his bid on an apology date with Zariah. Thats when he realized it, he was cursed. For some unknown reason, an unknown curse must be preventing him from meeting any commitments with Zariah. Thats why he was awake now. He hadn't even so much as mentioned this event to her, and thus freed himself of his curse.

 

Ofcourse he still woke up just the morning of the Slam, but that was enough time to make it if he rushed. Thats why as soon as saw the words "The Mighty Pen Carbaret Room will be hosting a Quill Quest Event for Revery the dreamlost" he threw down the scoll and rushed to get ready.

 

As he was taking the steps two at a time down to the Cabaret he wondered who would be in attendence.

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The doors to the Conservatory swung open once again, causing several slam poets in attendence to turn. Silly the Elder Dwarf raced into the room and made his way onto one of the judging pannel tables, a number of flashcards stacked under one of his arms. The orangutan then pounced upwards and curled his toes around a ventilation pipe connected to the ceiling. He hung upsidedown and pulled out the cards.

 

At that moment, Bravery the Elder Dwarf, Sexy the Elder Dwarf, and Shiny the Elder Dwarf all rushed into the room from different angles. Bravery was dressed in militant greens and blacks. His movements were sluggish due to the wide variety of guns that hanged from his coat, and a colorful bandana was tied to his forehead. Sexy, on the other hand, had on a furry purple jacket and a large top hot. He moved with a swagger as his mini gold-studded walking cane tapped along the Conservatory floor. Aside from a small tuft of green hair, Shiny the Elder Dwarf (in her last appearence as Elder Dwarf) was practically invisible... bling-bling jewelery covered her from head to toe. She looked like a miniature jewel golem.

 

The pennites in attendence stepped back as the three Elder Dwarfs began jumping up and down in place. Bizarre lighting effects began flaring across the Conservatory, and Silly got his flashcards ready. The jumping Dwarfs began chanting in unison:

 

"Yo! Yo! Yo! Yo! Yo! Yo! Yo! Yo!"

 

A strange off-key beat cued up in the background, with drum breaks and horn samples blaring left and right. The voice of Shady the Elder Dwarf spoke from the shadows in a smooth tone.

 

"Introducing..."

 

"Yo! Yo! Yo!"

 

"... the first slam judge of the evening..."

 

"Yo! Yo! Yo!"

 

"... please welcome..."

 

"Yo! Yo! Yo!"

 

*phat horn sample*

 

"... Wyyyyyvmettic!"

 

"YO! YO! YO! YO! YO! YO! YO! LET'S GO!"

 

Wyvern stepped into the room, dressed in an awful combination of worn plaid and baggy blue jeans. The overgrown lizard adjusted his golfing cap sideways for street cred, and struck a wanna-B-boy stance. The tinted copper W medallion hanging from his neck glinted as he reached for his enormous sunglasses and pulled them off. The lizard squinted in the direction of Silly's flash cards, oblivious to the fact that his geld piece boxer shorts were clearly visible given the state of his pants.

 

"YO! YO! YO! YO! WYV! HE'S GONNA! START! THE SHOW!"

 

"Errr..." Wyvern squinted, and took out a microphone. Static screeched through the halls for a moment, causing the lighting, chanting, and music to stop. "Oy. Ummm, Sid... ciiitemvyyyyyW...?"

 

Silly suddenly realized he was holding the flashcards upside down, and flipped them around.

 

"Ah." Wyvern cleared his throat and let out a nervous chuckle. "Yo. Dis Wyvmettic. What is up to all of my hipsters here in the audience tonight? I am ready and willing to get down and shake it a few times, for all of my slam poet type people. Do you dig what I am saying?"

 

The crowd stared in silence for a long moment in mixed horror and fascination. Wyvern walked to his seat at the judging pannel table, staring upwards as Silly flipped to another card.

 

"Now, I know that all of my hip hopping people, like Missster Bunny, are most definitely getting down with the grooves. That is why Wyvmettic decided to make the appearence, because our slam poet cousins are so close."

 

Wyvern struck a thumbs up and Silly hopped down from his position. The mini orangutan tossed his flashcards onto the table and then went to join the rest of the crowds. Wyvern pocketed the cards, then pointed to a large bin next to his seat. The bin vaguely read "Donations Bin for the Charity of Cute, Innocent Kittens," but the words were crossed out and the phrase "Wyvern's Bribery Bin" was graffitied over them.

 

"Now excepting bribesss for those who hope to get my vote." Wyvern grinned and patted the bin. He then spotted Mynx, and his forked tongue rolled out for a moment. "I sssee that one contestant is already aiming for my number one ssspot."

 

;-p

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Fountain riffled through his scattered notesbooks and files searching for something...Anything, he could use as a spring board...

 

He scanned everywhere for the slightest hint of a poem in whatever state of creation...

 

The Ballad of Etain...? Willow-bark...? Rev's Castle...? "No, no," he muttered. He needed something newer: Fresher.

 

Aahh, the Davie Poplar Tree...

 

Flash...Inspiration turned insight wheels-a-go-a-turning: BAM/Boom!!!

 

Fountain hurridly scribbled down the rapid fire thoughts forming in his mind...

Once finished, Fountain gave it a cursory edit, resolving to do it more justice once he had more time... TIME!!!

 

"I forgot about the Quest!" he exclaimed, then quickly ran down the hall toward the Cabaret Room...

Edited by reverie
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Reverie walked into the Carbaret beaming. It had been an especially long day and he was tired, but whatever weariness he might have felt melted away the instance he walked into the Carbaret Room...

 

They came, he thought...and smiled at the slighty chaotic scene...

 

 

 

 

He noticed that among the guests a few performers had arrived and where milling about the place... Nodding to Cerulean and Scalet, Revery walked towards the center of the room where he noticed his boots crunching on broken glass...

 

That's odd, he thought... It's a bit early for throwing things, since no one has preformed yet...

 

Moving about the room, he waved to Wyvern, Cryptomancer, and the Eldroidian Clan...

 

Considering Revery mused: It appeared Zariah had taken the intiative and started handed out refreshments, so it was not likely that anyone was going to be upset this early in the game.

 

Hmm, glass smashing toast must be coming back into fashion, he thought...

 

He also noticed a striking Mynx in what could, to put it lighty, be called, "an Eye catching ensemble..."

 

Then noticing himself noticing for a bit too long... He quickly turned and moved on towards the stage and to Zariah, who seemed to be attending to the wounds of a thin man with a lute...

 

Walking over to her, He gave her a quick hug, whispering in her ear, "Thank you for all your help... It's greatly appreciated, and you need not be nervous... You're doing wonderful... But, I think I will need to get the ball rolling on our little endevour...And soon 'lest the crowd turn vicious..."

 

With that, he pulled out a blue gold emblossed ledger and announced:

 

"The floor is now open to anyone that would like to Open Mike."

 

"The Sign up Book located by the Stage, will be open for the next 15 minutes for anyone interested in reading a poem..." he continued...

 

With that he sat down at small wooden table by the stage and waited for those interested...

Edited by reverie
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With no apparent backstory, Loki approaches the sign-up book, puts down his 'x' and steps to the stage.

 

 

 

Significant lighting.

Pocked to the world.

Adolescence telling me so--

I'll describe it

in a healthy obsession.

 

 

It's playing in your expression

splashing humiliation

too many records too many tracks

leaving them

everywhere

and picking

at your brain

until you feel eaten alive

off

how do you say, track?

you say it with a bit of relish

for everything you play

plays in just such a way

 

 

it's whispering to yourself

on the floor of the bathroom

puzzling over which jagged piece

fits where?

and stabbing it

in your eyes

on broken forearms

tearing

trying to grasp

in a fit of desperation

 

it's a telling sign.

 

 

 

 

 

 

with a resounding

thud-crash thud-crash

It's another morning.

I witness away the stark

to reciprocating Furies.

 

 

What I see is

madness in so very concrete

conversation; it doesn't matter what

they're saying--all ears I have kept

tangled in my hair.

Objectives we don't want

                                    know are there,

            and what isn't--

jerking like there's a place to go.

 

 

There is I.

The silent one.

Observing from paper rooftops,

made frail for being. led on

 

 

 

*exit stage left*

Edited by Loki Wyrd
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Mira entered the Carbaret Room in the middle of Loki's poem.

 

Looks like I showed up just in time, he thought to himself.

 

Spotting an empty seat in front of the stage, but at the extreame right, he maked his way toward it as quietly and swiftly as he could manage, and sat down to enjoy the rest of the Open Mic performers.

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Peredhil sat pensively brooding, his Muse remaining teasingly beyond reach, his attention not on the scene before him.

 

Guido leaned over to Nuncio and whispers, "Yowse! D'youse see Wyv's threads? His bling is all o'er dat t'ing!" Nuncio just sniffed distainfully, ignoring Guido who was now bouncing to the beat.

 

"Hey Nunce, youse oughtta go up to da mike while da Boss tries to t'ink somet'in up." Guido gave his toothy grin. "Youse all smart and wordy like dat, ya know."

 

"What do you know?" Nuncio snarled back, " You can't even do a limerick!"

 

With a laugh, Guido struts over to the book and signs with a flourish.

 

"Yo youse bums da big pig's in da house

I ain't too pretty but I ain't no louse

I dress real sharp and I carries a gun

An' I likes ta shoot; I t'ink its fun-

da-mental to de kinda Bodyguard I wanna be

I like fightin' and cuttin' and shootin' for free

I ain't got no street cred; I doan even know what dat means

but I gotta lotta bucks if youse countin' dem monied beans

And if youse wanna start it den, youse jist gots da be Guin-

ea piggied and sweet to da beat of da Sicilean twins.

Name up Nuncio.

Word up fun.

Hand's up fer me."

 

Very agile for a portly guinea pig, Guido dodges the thrown glass from his brother and struts back to his seat - where Nuncio kicks him under the table.

 

Peredhil just sighs as he sits, bereft of inspiration.

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Thomas's face brightened when he heard the MC calling for the Open Mike, and quickly left Zariah's ministrations to pick his lute and revise his poem. So quick was he, that Zariah gasped in suprise when she turned back with some more salvings in hand and found the Minstrel gone. A thud, followed by angry hooting and a strangled yelp told her that he and Mynx had probably got entangled again.

 

Mynx's face showed her surprise when Thomas waved the owls away, more worried about the tuning of the lute than about the claws - either the birds' or hers.

 

"Thomas?"

 

He looked up sharply, and smiled. "It's the Open Mike, Mynx. They'll never forget the day I told them this ballad." Playing a warming sequence on the strings, he smiled again then signed his name on the open book, breathing deeply and stepping on the stage a few minutes after Guido left.

 

 

Thomas sat on the bench, and played a soft and sad tune that called the attention of the audience. His voice was soft as he started.

 

"This happened a long long Winter ago, in a land that has been completely forgotten... it's my interpretation of a ballad called In Summer, and was written by a lady poet."

 

He struck a chord. "One day in Summer... "

 

Thomas paused for a fleeting second, sure that his memory was playing tricks on him - the tale happened in a Winter, he was sure of it. Licking suddenly dry lips he repeated the opening chord, and restarted. "Hrm... called In Winter."

 

"One day in Winter

when the sun was high and the breeze was slow

a sudden cloud came."

 

So far so good...

 

"The sun was still bright but the..."

 

Thomas faltered, and his fingers moved without thinking, filling hesitatingly his pause as the next words disappeared from his mind.

 

"... the... ... ... the silence was done

as shadows grinned close

swallowing threads of... of... "

 

Some whispers from the audience started to find their way into Thomas' awareness, and his tongue hurried to provide the words that his mind had decided to hide.

 

"...threads of.. watery thought..

as shadow winked... .... "

 

Thoughts... thoughts... oughts...

 

"... hrm... ought

spreading ... wispy threads of ... .... d-d-d-dark...."

 

Someone laughed, and there was a rustling sound as another one crossed the room without any regard to the minstrel's performance.

 

"... wispy threads of dark... laughter...

The rustle flashed brighter

the girl flowed deep in lands... smiling evilly...

... hrm... The ... song stirred darkly

but the laughter was louder... "

 

And indeed it was, as most had just decided to ignore Thomas while others, closer to the stage, started to question audibly if the Open Mike was open for that kind of performance.

 

"The ... song... lowered slowly

the... words... threading into the.... the... a place

... ... it... it came, .... something or other...

the shadow... ehh... the sh.... oh, it was complete."

 

 

Mynx, who had been listening with increasing horror, looked at Thomas, at Zariah, at the MC... and a dismal thought struck her.

 

If Tanny listens to this... Thomas slaughtered it...

 

 

The next chord was a bit dissonant, and disturbed the owls. They starting hooting at each different chord Thomas tried, and someone nearby mused that the chorus was better than the main artist, eyeing Mynx and the hooters.

 

Mynx smiled absently at the comment, her tail twitching nervously as she tried to remember the whole poem.

 

One day in Summer

when the sun was high and the breeze was slow

a sudden cloud came.

The sun was still bright but the breeze was gone

a shadow winked close

spreading wispy threads of darkness made true.

The sun flashed brighter

the shadow flowed deep in lands blind to evil

The breeze stirred weakly

but the shadow was gone, buried too far

The sun lowered slowly

the shadow sunk, threading into the land

Night came, silent and dark

the shadow smiled, its kingdom complete.

 

 

Thomas struggled on bravely, but the tale had already drifted far away from the original one.

 

"One late Winder... mm... Winter... "

One late Summer day

 

"... when laughter spread and ... things... ran wild..."

when the land smiled and the children ran wild

 

"a... sudden... void... appeared..."

a sudden chill came.

 

"Autumn.... fall... fell... right and spread his dark wings..."

Autumn was close by and night spread dark wings

 

".... .... " (music filled the silence)

colored by shadows

 

(more music)

hints of purples under shades of blue.

 

(A deep sigh, and a loud dissonant chord)

Life giving way

to sleep and rest and the evil hidden deep

The chill breeze howled high

darkness unsuspected feeding off life

Dreams came full of hope

tattered claws reached in endless hunger

Sleep disguised deep unrest

ripping apart the laughter, the bliss, the dreams

Night went on, restless and dark

 

"... shadows smiled.... the kingdom done."

the shadow smiled, its kingdom growing.

 

 

With a final, soft and subsided sequence of notes, Thomas stood up and bowed to the audience, leaving the stage.

 

Zariah was waiting for him ready to offer comfort and support, but blinked in suprised as Thomas bowed to her, smiling. "I hope you appreaciated this memorable performance, my lady. It was done with you in mind. "

 

"It... it was... yeah, memorable, Thomas... "

 

"I had to improvise a little bit, but it adds flavor. I'm sure that the original author of the poem feels happy that it gave me such wonderful, great inspiration."

 

A soft hooting from somewhere in the middle of the room seemed to remind the minstrel of his other duties, and he bowed again. "I'm sorry, but I have other duties... I'll soon be back to wait on the tables. Let me just rest My Lady here..." he showed his lute, patting it fondly. "... and I'll be back with some refreshments for all. They're so awestruck that they don't have strength to show their appreciation, you see. But I'm used to that."

 

 

 

~~~

The original poem is called In Summer and is posted at Banquet

Edited by Tanuchan
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Guido stood and applauded Thomas loudly, hooting in competition to the owls. When Nuncio pulled him back into his seat, he turned and remark, "Wassamadder? Anyone gets up in front of da crowd is my winner. Its a lot scarier up der dan in da crowd!"

 

Nuncio sat back and studied Guido under lowered lids. Every once in a while, his flake of a brother would say something profound. The problem was trying to decide whether this was one or not...

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