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The Pen is Mightier than the Sword

Slam Quest


reverie

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Matzo balls!

Both Bodyguards stopped and looked at Peredhil, who immediately sagged in his chair again with a sigh.

Okay, a slam poem on matzo balls and bagels is reaching. Guido and Nuncio nodded slowly.

 

Looking at Mynx bustling by, the Bard blinked.

"Strix Varia. Hooters."

"Boss..." said Nuncio warningly, thinking, "Peredhil really must be out of it to comment so openly!"

"Also known as the Swamp Owl, Hoot Owl, Eight hooter, and Le Chat-huant du Nord. The common frequently miscall them the Bard Owl. What a clever kitty, a visual pun." Peredhil moaned again. "She's so clever to comment without a word, and I'm left without a clue what to do, my muse is reluctant and unwilling and I'm without persuasion!"

He subsided into deep thought once more, allowing the Guinea Pigs to turn back to the show.

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Mira approached the mic for the second time more nervous then earlier. He was lucky enough to have made it this far; now all he hoped to do was make sure he didn't make a total fool of himself.

 

"Ladies and gentlemen, before I begin, I'd like to ask you all to help me do one little thing that I feel was overlooked." Mira said with a smirk as a few confused looks rippled silently through the audience. "Drummondo, Gabriel (Katzaniel), you are both exceptional poets, who deserve to be up here more then I. However, it seems Lady Luck is with me tonight, I do hope there are no hard feelings. That said, I believe a round of applause is in order for this pair." Mira's smirk became a grin as the audience erupted in enthusiastic applause. When it was finished, he continued. "And so ladies and gentlemen, without further ado, I give to you my second poem of the night."

 

Muse, take me away.

Pull me beyond the

bounds of this Earth.

Throw me out

amongst the stars.

Allow my thoughts their birth.

 

Without you my love,

man is nothing more then animal,

or at very best cold machine.

Your breath feeds the flames

of the heart.

And drives man to create,

to feel,

to dream.

 

Muse, your lips taste of honey.

The air around you ever sweet.

Your smile is the dawn.

Your tears the rain.

Your laughter heard in

a summer night's heat.

 

Every day I thank you for

allowing me to dwell in your grace.

And I forever savor every instant

of your touch,

your whispers,

your face.

 

With that Mira took a gracious bow, and vacated the stage.

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After Mira finished his second poem, Vlad turned to his companion and wished her a good night. Heading back to the judge's table, his mind was racing, all three poems were impressive, to say the least. After reaching his assigned position and conversing with Sweetcherrie and Ayshela for a few minutes, the lich felt ready.

 

But first, the crowd deserved a break from the action.

 

"Waitress! Can I get some ice water, please?"

Mynx looked over from the other side of the room, and decided to let Thomas fill this order. She knew that Vlad didn't drink water, and was already wary of the situation.

 

As Thomas walked with an oversized pitcher and a shotglass he nearly tripped several times. He's getting better at this, mused Zariah from spot next to the stage. I'd expect him to fall-

 

Her thought was cut short as she saw Thomas spectacularly trip over Bravery the Elder Dwarf's body, spilling nearly half of the pitcher onto the floor. Vlad, deciding to salvage as much of his plan as possible, walked over and placed a "wet floor" sign next to Thomas' head.

 

"Go get yourself cleaned up, I'll take care of everything here."

 

After Thomas left, Vlad picked the pitcher and decided there's still enough water left for his purpose. Walking over to Wyvern's bed - and leaving the water for someone else to clean up - Vlad dumped the remaining contents of the pitcher onto the scaly form and immediately began yelling.

 

"Wyvern! WYVERN! You missed the second round! You have to judge the poets! You didn't hear them perform! How do you plan on judging? Wyvern!" Vlad continued screaming the lizard's name but it quickly bled into something closer to weaver repeated several times a second.

 

In a paniced state, Wyvern jumped up and started to run back to his bribery bin, but managed to slip on the water still in his path, falling with a loud thud.

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"Well the reason I'm soaked is-" Nyyark was saying as he was interuppted.

 

"Hold on." said said Foutain, jerking around to look over his shoulder. The irritated look vanished from his face as he unfolded the napkin.

 

"Sorry to cut this off Nyyark," Foutain said quickly, "but I've got to go."

 

Foutain rose and headed off to another table. 'Its too bad,' thought Nyyark, 'I was really enjoying his company. And I almost got to telling him about my curse.' Nyyark sat thoughtfully as he let his vision stray across the Caberet. The slam was going pretty well, and was really surprised by how much he liked Loki's poetry. It remined him of someone, although he couldn't put his finger on it. It was almost like...

 

His train of thought cut off abruptly as he spotted a figure comming towards his table. "Her! Why is she comming here! I've got to get out of here. But how? His heart-rate skyrockted as Zariah continued her approach. Just as he thought he was doomed for sure a miracle occured. She looked away for a second. He ran.

 

"Where to go?" he muttered under his breath. He could try and find a way for Crow to come and carry him out, but she said she had a very important meeting with another avian almost her size. It would be bad to interrupt that without a good reason, and even though his curse was a perfectly good reason Crow would never go for it. She never beleive him when he said he was cursed. Besides Nyyark really didn't want to miss the rest of the poetry. It was quite good.

 

He turned and ran the other direction as he saw the big cat lady with the scary owls. Then he saw the kitchen door. 'Perfect!' he thought pushing the door out of the way. A big black cauldren sat in the center of one of the counters. He jumped in without a thought.

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Wyvern fidgets in a scaly heap on the ground and clutches at his head. Blocking the extremely loud and painful words of Vlad as best as he can, the hungover lizard groggily slips his way to his feet. His scales hang low in their soaked state as he drags his way to the bribery bin. The lizard scowls and wobbles dizzily, then sticks his claw into the bin and freezes.

 

"Hey!" Wyvern clutches at his own head and grinds his teeth for a moment, unable to fully understand his own words due to their volume in his head. "Who took that beautiful bonfire that Loki Wyrd gave as a bribe?! Just when I need it the most too-"

 

Spotting a familiar-looking flicker of light next to an even-more-familiar-looking Scarlett figure, the lizard begins sloshing his way to the bar. Next to Scarlett at the bar, a not-so-familiar-looking Elder Dwarf still dozes under revery's spell. Dwarven drinking habits die hard...

 

---

 

The crowds mingle and chat amongst themselves as Wyvern shoves past them. They glare at him and pause as he passes by, then continue speaking in a dignified manner:

 

"Well, thank goodness he's up. I couldn't hear a thing!"

 

"Oh come now, Charles. It was perfectly audible. You didn't even hear Mira's fine appraisal of his Muse's whiskers?"

 

"No, I didn't! All I heard was that lizard's horrendous snoring. Snore snore snore!"

 

Another bystander interjects.

 

"Madam... I believe that Mira praised the whimpers, not the whiskers."

 

Yet another scholar turns to the group.

 

"Really? Why, I thought he said whistles! How did you interpret cryptomancer's statement of each moment being "richer than mine"? It was a bit tricky to pick up, with the snoring and all."

 

"Actually, I believe it was 'richer than vines.' What was the stanza after that though? I couldn't hear..."

 

"Damn his snoring!"

 

"I really did like Loki Wyrd's 'petri fish' image, that was rather original."

 

"I'm afraid I missed that one... it was rather loud in my area, you know, with the snoring and all."

 

;-p

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Ayshela listened carefully as the second round performers took the stage, each in turn. She made notes to herself, with small hope that it would help. Shaking her head slightly, she thought to herself "Wow, round one was difficult enough but *this* is going to be tough."

 

Settling back in her chair, she caught Mynx's eye with an unspoken plea for coffee, please - LOTS of coffee?

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Sweetcherrie had been trying to listen carefully to each poem, but unfortunately had missed half of them. Wyvern had been snoring so loudly that almost every second word had sounded like “ZZZZZZZgrrbllb”.

 

She had to admit that it had added an extra dimension to the poems, but she doubted that this was what the poets had meant their poems to sound like. She wasn’t sure what to do next. Would she ask the poets for their poem on paper?

 

This would however defy the whole meaning of slamming a poem. She could hardly ask if the poems could be reread, or could she? Maybe if she were the only one that had missed large parts of the poems, she would be able to just judge them from paper.

 

Sweetcherrie looked around and her hope for that dropped when she saw part of the audience looking confused, and another part was looking half-angrily at the almost dragon.

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Mynx noticed Ayshela's silent plea and couldn't help but smile to herself.

Stalking quietly up behind her friend, Mynx placed a large jug of steaming espresso with an already full cup next to it, before murming softly into her friend's ear:

"Will this do? Or would you prefer the IV?"

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Scarlett sniffs greedily at the delicious scent of coffee nearby, but is distracted into peals of laughter by the spectacle of Wyvern approaching. She is tempted to bait him with some barb about her warm-heartedness, but decides not to tempt fate, this time. With a wink and a clink she goes back to frisking the sleeping dwarves.

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Mynx was tending to Ayshela, who looked as if she had swallowed a lemon. Sweetcherrie wondered if this was also because she hadn’t heard a thing, or because she had difficulties deciding which poem was best. Come to think of it she wouldn’t mind a drink herself. Sweetcherrie got up and while she walked over to ask Mynx if she could also get a drink, she tried to figure out how she would solve the problem of not having heard the poems.

 

Suddenly she saw a shadow moving, but when she tried to take a closer look it had disappeared. However, what she did see suddenly gave her a flare of hope. In the same corner of the room stood a machine that looked like one of those old recording machines. There were two enormous spools on it, which were slowly turning around. She glanced over the audience in search of Revery.

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Peredhil sat stretched out in his chair, shoulders and buttocks touch and long legs crossed at the ankle. He looked a bit like a board leaning against a carpenter's angle as he stared at the ceiling.

"Purple ostriches in flight, the slammers visual delight..."

Nuncio absently corrected as he strained to hear the performers, "Ostriches don't fly Boss. " He started as Guido kicked him.

 

The masterful almost Dragonic snoring ceased as Wyvern awoke in a panic. In its absence it was revealed that the several Elder Dwarves snored in a chord of octave ecstacy, from the profoundly bass Barry-Whitish Sexy's snore all the way up the scale.

 

"How can I trust when you've set the stage

You talked of love but taught me rage

The lies were reality; I believed your word

It was alway my fault - I felt like a turd

You can't break a heart when the mind is shattered

I'll have my fish with vinegar and chips - fresh plattered --"

He broke off and gnashed his teeth.

 

"Youse nearly had da start dere Boss, but tripped comin' outta da shute. Dat don't make you happy?" Guido carefully turned back to watch the judges after receiving a Look.

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Revery was nowhere to be seen, “Must be busy with the organization,” she thought and decided to check out the machine herself. The big wheels were still slowly turning when she arrived in the corner of the room. “Ok, lets see. Hmm…play...no…stop…probably a good idea,” Sweetcherrie mumbled and pressed the stop button. The big wheels stopped turning, “well that went rather ok…now…how to listen to what has been recorded…” She studied the buttons but didn’t find a button that would rewind the spools. She pressed some other buttons, and the spools started turning again, but forward. “No…this is not what I was looking for.” Suddenly the wheels turned faster and faster, and she could see all the tape ending up at the right spool. “uhoh..” The tape had caught lose from the left spool and the end bit was now flapping around the right one. “Now what do I do?” Sweetcherrie pressed the stop button, and looked around if someone was around to help fix what she had broken. Everybody was busy doing his or her own things, “I shouldn’t have fiddled with something as technical as this…there must be a way.”

 

“Need some help with that?” the shadowy figure that she had spotted earlier stood next to her. Sweetcherrie jumped a bit when she heard the voice so close to her, it had sounded familiar but she couldn’t exactly place it. The stranger’s hood was covering his face, and no matter how she tried she just couldn’t make out who it was. “Erm…yes please. You see I’m supposed to judge the poems and-“ She stopped talking when the shadow handed her a pair of headphones, “Should be able to hear them now.” She put on the headphones, and indeed she could hear Revery’s announcement of the second round. “Ooh, thank…you?” But when she turned around to thank him the shadow had disappeared. Sweetcherrie shrugged and took out her pen and paper and took notes while she listened.

 

Loki Wyrd: The use of indentation gives this poem a certain rhythm, which I found very nice. The wording is very good and after translating some ;) the images the poem gave me were very clear and it came to live. I even came to some naughty interpretations, although I’m not entirely sure if that was just me, or that you had meant for this to happen.

 

Cryptomancer: This poem had me longing for a warm embrace of that special person. However, to me the rhymes you have used seemed a bit sloppy. I might be very wrong on this, but it felt like it stopped the flow. A couple of times my mind read something else than what was written, and skipped words that were there or added words that weren’t. However, the imager was very good, and I only hope that some day some one will write this sort of poetry with me in mind.

 

Mira: I think we all worship our muse from time to time, and for me when it’s on holiday for the weekend I suddenly feel lonely. I liked the way you personified the muse, and got the idea that you were talking about a special person in your life. I have absolutely no idea if you used a rhyme schedule, and if so which one. But the flow was there and it felt nice to read. 

Sweetcherrie pressed ‘stop’, and sighed with a bit of relief, and a bit of despair. She was glad that she finally got to listen to the poems, but how was she supposed to choose the best one out of these? They were all good. She sighed again, “well a winner has to be chosen, and a winner there will be. I just hope that I’m in time with giving Revery my scores.” With that she stood up in search of the organizer of this contest.

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Wyvern grumbles as he claws past several people standing in front of the bar. A murmer of complaints rises from the bystanders as Wyvern obscures their view of Scarlett O Harpy's flaming package. He hisses loudly as the murmers register as shouts in his hungover mind, and slouches over in the direction of the flaming bag on the counter.

 

"No so fast." Scarlett O' Harpy pauses in her frisking of Sexy/Sleazy the Elder Dwarf. She grabs the bag using a single sharply-manicured hand and pulls it to the side. "Finders keepers, hah!"

 

Wyvern skids upon noticing that he's lunging for a clear bar counter. He slips over the wet pool he's created underneath himself and goes sailing across the counter, colliding into the busy bartender. Scarlett O Harpy laughs raucously as the bartender drops a platter of twenty exotic drinks onto the lizard.

 

"Haha, looks like an iguana!" Scarlett points and keels over in her chair. "Hawhaw! Now then, where was I-"

 

Scarlett O Harpy turns back towards Sleazy the Elder Dwarf. She continues in her process of frisking, moving her hands to his front pockets.

 

"Oh, you already checked there, try the back pockets." mumbles the voice of Sleazy.

 

"Ah, right, thanks." Scarlett begins moving her hands to other pockets, then pauses as something registers in her head. "Wait a minute... you're awake?!"

 

"Errrk." Sleazy the Elder Dwarf sits up on his seat, suddenly realizing his error. "Well, uhh... what would you expect? I am, y'know, Sleazy this evening, after all."

 

A silence envelopes the area of the bar. In the background, Peredhil's poetic riffing is heard:

 

I'll have my fish with vinegar and chips - fresh plattered --

 

"Errrr," chokes Sleazy, backing up in his seat as he watches Scarlett's carnivorous eyes turn a deeper shade of red. "For what it's worth, that's a great flaming package you've got there."

 

"That does it," growls Scarlett. She pulls out a lobster bib and two knives. "For that comment, you're an apperitif."

 

"Wait!" cries Sleazy, squirming as Scarlett lunges. "I didn't mean- I meant that flaming package! That one, over there!"

 

Scarlett turns as Sleazy the Elder Dwarf points, and cries out when she notices that Wyvern has reclaimed his flaming bribe bag. The lizard hightails it from the bar area clutching the package, then turns to Scarlett from a safe distance and laughs.

 

"My shiny flame package, mine!" Wyvern reaches into the bag and pulls out one of the shiny sticks of dynamite within. "Ssssee this shiny, Scarlett? It's mine, I tell you, MINE!"

 

The lizard pauses as the crowds surrounding him start running.

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The mind of a raven is a strange thing.

 

The mind of a Raven on Caffeine is darn right scary. Not to mention highly dangerous and prone to severe errors in judgment.

 

The coffee machine bubbled, the Raven grinned, his claw clasping something tightly.

 

In a slow expansion of mist the human form of the runemage appeared, his hood pulled over his eyes as he played with some silver wire and a few runes of binding and protection.

 

Adding his final touch to the small trinket in his palm, the Cryptomancer condensed to avian form and sat grinning in that way that only a raven can truely grin.

 

The coffee machine bubbled more, and the mind of the Raven became unstable. (ok ok more unstable) *pauses and looks around* (ok ok ok so it went downright insane on caffeine and lack of sleep, possibly halucinating too)

 

:raven:

 

As Mynx went about her tasks, tray in paw, owls at the ready, the Raven landed on her head, and in the quizzical way of Ravens looked at her. "having fun?"

 

Mynx swatted playfully at him, the owls glared at the intruder to their perch.

 

Suddenly Mynx flinched as a sharp pain took hold of her ear, her owls erupted in a storm of beaks and wings and claws as the Raaven became a target of aggression. In the middle of it all the Raven dissapated into a puff of dark mist and vanished into the air around Mynx as she tried to calm her owls down again.

 

"What the ??"

her paw went to her throbbing ear, feeling a small ear ring that seemed to be the cause of the pain.

 

"Raven!!" she heard a very avian giggle from the rafters.

 

Turning her head she found the shadow it came from, and noticed the purpose of the new item of jewelery. The small bell chimed so sweetly and perfectly as it hung on her new ear ring. the silver catching the light so perfectly, and the note seemed to match the pitch of the crowd.

 

Mynx shook her head in frustration, the bell chimed gently, "Raven, you are so gonna get it for this."

 

From the rafters an avian voice giggled down, "Ring me, we can talk about it"

 

 

:raven:

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Mynx growled and ground her teeth together.

"What the Bob is this? A birthday present?!"

Reaching up to the ring, Mynx gave it a tug, intending to break the small silver band.

All she got from her efforts was a sharp pain. Mynx had once meddled with a spell on her form that was intended to effectively make her flesh inpenetrable. It hadn't worked, instead it had ensured that she could bring no harm to her form.

Typical, she thought with a sigh. Only the Rune Mage would craft an earring that was seamless. And because he had put it there, she couldn't remove it.

Resolving to deal with it later, Mynx continued about her work, each step and turn of the head accompianied with a quiet 'Tink' that was almost lost in the crowd but echoed through the feline's sensitive ears.

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"...so good. They're all so good..." Vlad murmured to himself. "How am I supposed to decide? I'd better head back to the judging table."

 

Upon arrival, he saw Ayshela with quite possibly the largest cup of coffee he had ever seen. And she seemed quite content with it.

 

Probably shouldn't disturb her, the lich thought. I wonder where Sweetcherrie is... Hmm... Looks like I'm on my own for this. After a few more moments of though, he produced several napkins and sat down, scribbling furiously.

 

 

Loki -

I can't truthfully lay claim to understanding your poem, but I like how it sounded. Some of those terms, I'll have to look up later. It felt like there's a beacon of stability in a world that's gone wrong. Good rythm, but something about it just feels lacking... I think that would be the meaning, as that went over my head. A good work, overall.

 

Vlad thought for a moment before signing his name and folding the napkin up. Pushing the completed work to one side, he reached for a second napkin and began to write more.

 

Crypt -

I like where you wanted to take the poem, but most of it sounded rather forced. The notion of having to take what you love in ever-smaller doses is powerful, but you could have made the poem sharper. There's a lot of it that feel irrelevant to the image you need to convey - I think it almost became a ballad. The parts of the poem read to your love are quite emotional and evocative, but are overshadowed by the rest of your reading. The main fault is that you seem to pull the text into too many different directions and meanings and I hesitate to call this a complete product, but it is still an interesting poem to hear.

 

The judge in him was satisfied with the napkin, but the rest of Vlad felt it might be too harsh. After signing his name, he decided to add a smile in the corner, but still was torn. Folding it up, he knew he had to move on to the final napkin.

 

Mira -

Although your content isn't the most unique, you do manage to make it completely your own. The line about Man as nothing more than a cold machine was awkward in contrast to the rest of your poem having images of fire and flames and hotness their ilk. There is a soft sense of repetition in the work which highlights your words more than anything else. Appealing to alternative senses was clever, as were the metaphor comparing your Muse to Nature. Some of it feels to straight, but didn't hinder my enjoyment of the poem anyways.

 

Putting down his Cosmic Energy drink, Vlad sat back in his seat and looked around for revery. Finding him in the far corner talking to a person Vlad couldn't recognize at that distance, he slowly walked over. Handing the folded napkins to the MC, he only said "Give these to the poets," before turning around and leaving...

 

Arriving back at the table, Vlad clutched his head in his hands thinking what to do about scoring. So hard to decide...

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bells.

 

Guido's whiskers twitched in rhythm to the soft start and stop of the tinkling chimes.

 

bells.

 

Nuncio blinked at the sweet sound wafting through the air, pure and light, rising above the shuffle of feet and clamor of noise.

 

bells.

 

Peredhil raised his face from his hands, an odd look in his normally complacent grey eyes.

 

The bells.

 

The odd start stop of the sound make them hard to follow. Made them seductively intent, straining to hear their joyous tinkle and clap strike up, then silence.

 

Nuncio began doodling with a claw on the table top. Guido followed a sudden urge to visit the male's room. Peredhil began to twitch when the bells started, head swiveling like a radar dish back and forth, only to lose them as they drifted randomly about the crowd, weaving their chime amidst the Slam scene sound.

 

The distracting bells!

 

Pure joyous sound, a gift of love to life, singing of hope and warm heart. Peredhil's fingers twitched in the motions of a spell of silence, but even now he was too Polite to cast without definite target.

 

The hellish bells!

 

How they doth pierce the ears of one straining to hear their Muse!

(:P)

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Popping in and out of the kitchen, Zariah silently witnessed all the activity going on in the room. She saw that Mynx and Thomas were doing great, and made her way back into the kitchen to help the cooks. She ran her fingertips along the wall, and touched the shiny pots and pans. She saw the huge cauldron in the middle of the room, and dipped her hand along the rim.

 

Things are going great! I wonder who is going to win. I sure hope Reverie feels great because this is quite a success….if only I could write again…I’d love to pay tribute to this kitchen.

She swore she heard bells in her brain…overtaking her ability to think clearly.

 

What to do?

 

Zariah, dazed and confused, propped up against the cauldron and waited for something to happen.

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With a weary sigh, Ayshela uncurled from around her blessedly large cup of coffee and resumed perusal of her notes. Blessing her years of trying to hear while on guard through the sometimes raucous sounds of sleeping companions, she had at least been able to *hear*. "For all the good *that* might do." she muttered, flipping back and forth through her notes.

 

Loki: the piece flowed well, with interesting imagery, yet left the definite feel that the larger meaning escaped. Nicely done, yet elusive.

 

cryptomancer: as always, a topic one can relate to, yet ambiguous in places... cord - chord? stolen form - from? nice imagery, as one would expect from crypt, but grammatically awkward and seeming forced at several points which disrupts the easy flow.

 

Mira: no set pattern, but an easy flow without seeming chaotic. clear, vivid description - again, as one would expect from Mira. a very common topic, on surface look one almost overdone - and yet an intriguing perspective.

 

Perhaps as well this is the final round, as the contestants just get better and better. How to score them accurately?

 

Ayshela wrapped herself back around her coffee, muttering dejectedly.

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Revery paced around the corridor immediatly outside the Conservatory... He liked walking, it cleared his head, even if he was only doing circles... The clouds from slight fit he had been in eailer, still lingered some... So he walked... It also gave him time to observe some. Peering in the doors and random windows that passed by, he observed, that Fountain was no where in sight. "I wonder where he went off to," he thought

 

 

***

 

Fountain, had been bussing tables near the bar. He really hated it cleaning up after people... It just seemed so...Icky... Especially ash trays... and the all the hissing crankling sparks... "hissing sparks?"

 

He looked over his shoulder and saw the Almost dragonic Elder and Scarlet arguing over what appeared to be a big bag of shiny happy DYNAMITE... People started to scatter...

 

Fountain decided that he should do something about this, Revery was still a little miffed, and if he realized what was going on, there was no telling what he do this time... Thankfully the Dreamlost was no where to be seen... "Probably lost in his own thoughts again," the boy mused...

 

Taken bold and uncharacteristic action, Fountain lunged for the bag between the two and plunged it into his bus-boy cart's drink pail... About that time, he realized that Gun-powder still burns underwater... So with a frantic yelp, he furiously sped off Under-Water-Shiny-Happy-Dynamite bus-boy cart and all towards the conservatory doors...

 

Ever when clear of the grand hall, he kept running... searching his mind for a safe place to displose of the now lethal cart...

 

***

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The pot was dark and slighty damp, but compared to exploding, or drowning, or whatever else the curse might do to him. It should be safe here, because there would be no reason for Zariah to come into the kitchen, much less this pot. For a while it had made the poetry sound like some sort of hideous snoring, but some intense squirming eventually found seemed to nullify that effect. Now he would just wait until the winner was declared and...

 

She sat down on the rim. Zariah sat down on the rim.

 

Nyyark only had a few moments to think. He hadn't melted yet, which meant the curse hadn't seen him. Or her.

 

"Wha- mmmrph" Zariah tried to exclaim as she was pulled into the pot. Her eyes widened in shock as she saw him, then immeadiately narrowed into a much more dangerous emotion.

 

"You-" She began.

 

"Wait wait wait wait!" Nyyark said in a loud whisper, "Before you say anything anything I need to tell you something. I'm cursed."

 

"Cursed!?" She yelled, voice equal parts anger and disbelief

 

"Shhh not so loud!" he said, "Yes cursed. But we have to be quiet, because the curse doesn't know we're hiding here."

 

"The curse doesn't know-You mean to tell me that reason you stood me up at the Fall Ball, didn't come to my Valentines Ball, and forgot about our date is because you're cursed?" Zariah exclaimed.

 

"Our date? Oh yeah, exactly!" Nyyark said smiling. She finally understood.

 

"You know, when we first met, I thought you were a nice guy Nyyark. But this," She guestured to the pot and their tangled legs, "this proves how wrong I was. Goodbye Nyyark, I can't say it was nice knowing you, you never game me the chance."

 

"No wait, Zariah" Nyyark shouted as she tried to pull herself over the rim. "You don't understand.." Nyyark put his hand on Zariah's should to stop her, and succeeded in causing her to slide back into the pot, creating a tangled crow boy and girl mess.

 

"Get off of me!" Zariah grunted, scrambling to get out.

 

"I can't" Nyyark murfled, "I'm stu-oof that hurt"

 

As the two struggled in the large kitchen pot the door flew open across the room...

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"Watch out... Move! Hot Cart here...Out the Way!"

 

Fountain ran about frantically pushing the dynamite laden cart around...looking for a safe place to dispose of it... He zipped past the entrance to the Assembly room with Dyna-cart noisily clanking against the walls... He tried his best to bank between the passersby and hard turns as much as he could...but came awfully close to sideswiping the few Pennite in the process... Fountain continued to yell warnings as the sparks hissed and spluttered ominously...as the Pennites tried to scamper out of his way.

 

Happy Buddha was just exiting the Banquet Hall as Fountain and Dyna-Cart™ approached... "Look out!" fountain yelled, but to no avail... The boy and cart collided right into the colossal Pen member. Happy Buddha gave a slight "oft" sound. As Cart and all bounced off his substantial girth, then the Happy Buddha Belly sent them bounding back into the direction from whence they came... "Sorry," the boy called back over his shoulder as he continued to run.

 

Fountain unconsciously made his way back to the conservatory in a round about kind of way... He arrived at the back entrance bursting into the back stock room that paralleled the kitchen and staff area... Boxes of Aprons, Menus, and various codement and paper napkin holder containers exploded as fountain and the hissing-cart collide into and through them...

 

About the same time at the extreme opposite end of the stock room, Thomas the Minstrel was fetching a few canisters of red pepper from one of the top shelves while leaning off a precariously placed ladder. Fountain and cart were fast making their way towards the Minstrel. Taken off balance from the commotion below, Thomas fell, pulling down several canisters and breaking them open in the process. "Ouch!" he yelled, " Hey watch where you going!!!" Fountain shot back an apologetic look, but was immediately overtaken by a furious fit of sneezing in the red-pepper haze that now engulfed the both of them.

 

Unable to see now with eyes burning and still sneezing Fountain lost control of Dyna-Cart™ and sent it flying, Happy-Hissing-Sticks and all through the Kitchen Door...

 

***

 

Zariah and Nyyrak were still struggling to get out of the cauldron as the Mighty Dragonic Laden Shiny Happy Dyna-Cart™ bounded in.

 

Nyyark glanced over Zariah's shoulder, caught of glimpse of the fast approaching ready-made explosion on wheels... "Get down," he yelled and threw what he could of himself over the crow girl. "What are you doing," she yelled back...

 

Just then, the cart ran head long into a cauldron forcing it over on its side as the lethal contents of the cart were catapulted in the air...

 

 

 

BOOOOM!

 

 

***

 

Fountain still sneezing ran into the Kitchen... "Hello, Anyone in here??? Is everyone all right..." he yelled

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At the sudden explosive noises, Guido and Nuncio sat up straight.

 

"Just sneezing," Nuncio grunted.

 

Then the thunder of an explosion shook the room. So it was that Peredhil found himself on the floor under six-hundred pounds of protective Bodyguards with drawn guns.

Reflexes you know.

And so it was that Peredhil missed the sight of Crow-boy and Crow-girl in flight. Tangled together, spinning out of the kitchen and arcing over the heads of the crowd, moving at great speed, having been ejected from the pot as if from a cannon.

 

Which was a pity, because his Muse was amused and all sorts of circus analogies swirled around her, unable to reach the Elf trying to breathe at the bottom of his protective pile.

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Sweetcherrie wondered where Revery was. She hadn’t seen him for a while now, and after all this had been his event. She frowned and glanced over the crowd. Well, if he wasn’t inside he might just be outside. She walked past Peredhil who buried under a pile of bodyguards. This Slam Quest had done more to people than what most had expected probably. She sent a thought of good luck to the planewalker, and hoped he would receive it somehow. Poor Mynx was still running around with drinks, merrily tinkling along, and only a hurried “hi” escaped her lips as Sweetcherrie walked past her to the exit.

 

Now where could Revery be? She looked around; night had fallen, but luckily the stars and the moon were giving enough light to see where she was going. She turned the corner and under a couple of trees she saw him pacing in circles. Sweetcherrie had once been in a zoo where she had seen a polar bear walking around in circles, and this looked much the same. She approached quietly and when she got closer she could hear the mage mumble. “Revery?” He stopped pacing, and looked at her with a confused look on his face. “Are you ok?” She wondered if she was going about this the right way, but took another step forward. “Just getting some air..” Revery was about to start moving again, “Would you like to sit down for a moment?” Sweetcherrie asked, and sat down on the floor herself. He seemed to hesitate for a moment, but then sat down next to her. They silently stared at the moon for a while, until she broke the silence, “You know I think that this has been a great success…actually I should say, “You’ve made” this a great success.” Sweetcherrie looked at his face; the moonlight showed her that a weak smile had appeared. She put her arms around him, and gave him a warm hug, “But I think people would like to know who the winner is, don’t you?” Revery chuckled, “Yeah, you’re probably right.” They got up together, and walked back inside.

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