Calling the attention of a certain lizard named Wyvern...

[dauna]

One day Dauna "elfie" George woke up to a world gone mad. Gravity decided not to function properly, and when killed a thing stayed alive. A lamb's severed head perched upon a pike, still bleating beside its still moving body was one of the many horrors she was to witness.

 

Nothing made sense anymore and worst of all, at least from her point of view, she was virtually alone. She struggled to survive, eating what meat she had before it could spoil and then forcing down the vegetables--even the ones she hated--but even her supply of those were growing rather short.

 

A few travellers passed her way now and again. She shared her provisions gladly for the simple sound of another human being's voice. She heard rumors through them about a stronghold.

 

"They say all manner of people live there and magic or nonmagic alike are welcome. It's one of the last few havens for our kind..."

 

elfie listened to these rumors, and dreamed of this fabled stronghold. One traveller even claimed to have come from the place and to be on his way back. That night before the fire he sat extolling its wonders for her listening ears. She was curious and wanted desperately to see this wonderful place, but she had lived upon the land for years and was hesitant to leave it so quickly. The land still bore enough food that always she was on the cusp of starving, yet never quite there.

 

It was the lack of conversation that finally pushed her over that edge. No travellers had been by in months and she had taken to talking with herself. She told stories, herself the only audience, trying to explain what exactly had happened, or to reassure herself that it was only a matter of time before the world righted itself again.

 

Gradually she began addressing herself as George, pretending that this was a piece of her, yet an other self as well. No matter how interesting a character she cast George to be, she still originated from her own self and could not truly surprise her creator.

 

After months of this one last visitor came. He found her in serious debate with herself over two different theories, trying to settle on the exact reason everyone was gone, and the world turned upside down. On some level even then she knew the debate was pointless, for it would prove nothing, but her other self had become rather attached to an idea which its other half could not think to be true.

 

"They would NOT leave of their own free well," elfie was saying hotly, when the door creaked open. Most likely he had knocked first but in the state she had been in nothing had been heard.

 

"elfie?" he gasped in dismay, taking in her tattered, soiled and disheveled clothing with her wild hair topping it all off. "elfie come with me, you need help," he said as she stared at him wildly, part of herself trying to recall who he might be, the other half wondering if she should attack the intruder.

 

"Black?" George heard herself ask, as some faint memory of who this man was came back to her. "No, it can't be you. I... must be getting worse, going truly insane," she said, shaking her head. "You visited, told me about... About that place. The safe place. Then you left to go to it... months ago."

 

"Yes and you never followed. If I had known... I should have chained you and taken you with me. Now come, it's time to go."

 

"No!" George cried, some last vestige of elfie within her still refusing to leave her home, a place where she had shed tears and blood to cultivate and create, putting her very soul and being into this ground. To tear herself away from it... She felt as if leaving would be to lose a part of herself.

 

"No, I won't go, and you can't make-"

 

Everything went dark.

 

............................

 

George woke up, her thoughts dazed and sluggish. "Before you is The Mighty Pen where we hold to the creed 'The Pen is Mightier then the Sword.' Here is the last place where gravity holds steady, and death works as it should. You'll find others here, people to talk to, and food. Stay for a while, see if you like it."

 

George gazed at this stronghold curiously. She could feel the buzz of voices, the bustle of activity within its walls, reverberating and awaking something within her. "There will be people?" she asked hesitantly as if his words might somehow have been misheard. He nodded gravely.

 

Somehow this scared her and excited her at the same time. Sitting down at the edge of the woods she gazed upon the keep but made no moves towards it. "I'm... just going to wait a bit. Get used to the idea of people and a universe that makes sense again... You go ahead inside. I'll follow," she said with an uncertain smile. He left her then, either sensing she needed time, or simply trusting her words.

 

For three days she camped out among the trees, knowing it was foolish to hesitate, that it would make entering this new place no easier yet strangely reluctant to begin until Black came back. He eyed her impatiently and just a little threateningly. Remembering the space of time between here and her home she knew just what he was thinking of doing. "No, it's ok. I'll come... but don't expect much but lurking at first," she warned him.

 

He smiled and nodded. Then bowing, he offered her an arm, and escorted her within the walls of the keep. George kept to the outskirts, participating very little and only where he did. Yet this gave her courage of a sorts and made her more comfortable. One day she left but only for a short space of time, for she needed the silence of the forest once more, to clear her head. While outside she met a traveller, a beautiful elven woman, and invited her to come back to the keep with her.

 

Once there the elven woman took to the keep as if she had been born there, quickly mingling with the others, while George stuck to the small spaces she had become comfortable with. Then, somewhat jealous of the other's success and deciding that the title of honorary guest was fine but insufficient, she finally went around by the Recruiter's Office.

 

Speaking to the door cordially, she asked about the recruiter and the past happenings. Sitting beside him, she listened to the stories he told, and laughed loudly at his tales. Amused and encouraged by what she heard, George asked Woody to allow her inside, to which he agreeably opened. After hesitating upon the threshold at the great mess Woody had described perfectly yet which was in some manner indescribable upon sight, she scurried inside nervously and found a few scraps of parchment and a pen.

 

George retreated to a quiet corner of The Pen and thought upon what she might write. Finally settling upon that most easily told, and following in the steps of others, she began to scratch out her own story upon the parchment. After a few changes and a bit of editing she decided it was as good as it would get, and made her way back to the Recruiter's Office where Woody let her back inside and wished her goodluck.

 

Staring at the papers heaped about upon his desk, she decided to keep her application in hand for fear that the mess would swallow it. Settling into the applicant's easychair she wondered if she, too, would have a long wait. She had heard of applicants living in this room for months..., but then the door may have been exagerrating... or at least she certainly hoped so.

 

Taking out a novel to pass the time, she relaxed and awaited Wyvern.

[Wyvern]

George had only flipped through a fraction of a chapter when the faint sound of wailing caught her ears. The impaled lamb head depicted in the novel's text almost seemed to gain a voice as the sound grew louder and louder, until George decided that the high-pitched screaming was far removed from familiar baaa-ing. She frowned and turned her head in the direction of the Office window, only to jump out of her seat as Wyvern soared in on what appeared to be a gigantic hangglider made out of yellow construction paper. The overgrown lizard cried out as he sailed in rapid circles and cork-screwed through the room, raising up a storm of paperwork as the gust of his tailwinds messed with dauna's hair. Wyvern's chaotic flight plan was cut short as Woody opened and slammed himself shut at an opportune moment, wrecking the front end of the lizard's vehicle and sending him flying through the fluttering paperwork until he landed near George's feet.

 

"Uuugh."

 

George frowned and stared down at the lizard, wondering for a moment if the grip on reality here was truly any better than that of the great outdoors.

 

"Are you alright?"

 

"Never... been... better." Wyvern forced a grin and lifted himself with a grunt, scraping the stray paperwork off his horns with one claw and shaking George's hand with the other. "Sssorry about that, this Office mess just doesn't seem to stay in one place and rot like it used to."

 

"Oh, that's alright. You're actually here a bit earlier than I expected." The applicant stared at Wyvern's wreck for a moment, then bit her lip and thought twice about her statement. 'I mean, at least that's what the rumors led me to believe."

 

"Well, that'sss largely thanks to Almost Dragonic Brand Discount Origami Paper Airliners™, the quickest and cheapessst means of flying this side of summoning one of Gryphon's relatives." Wyvern pulled out a flight plan detailing his actual intentions to fly into the area of Mynx's flying lessons, but quickly hid the sheet and tore it to pieces behind his back. "Of course, sssince I wouldn't want to keep you waiting, I chose to make a direct flight to my personalized 'Office window' landway. Now then, let'sss see that application."

 

Wyvern pounced over a small pile of paperwork and breezed through his desktop, discarding half-written insurance frauds and tax reimbursment claims until he came across George's application. He snatched up the application sheet and gave it a thorough read, then struck a grin and nodded in George's direction.

 

"People you'll definitely find." Wyvern stroked his scaly chin, then began rummaging through his desk for another item. "The lawsss of reality and death might prove to be a lil' more tricky, depending on the context. Talk to the Astral dwellersss or Grim Squeaker fer more info, and remember that if you continually invest in Almost Dragonic Brand Products™, they'll eventually grant you eternal sssalvation."

 

Wyvern flicked his tongue out twice towards and winked, then snatched his Acceptance stamp from the depths of his desk and stamped the application sheet ACCEPTED.

 

"Bonusss points for taking part of the Pen's smallest rave party, by the way. I'm always partial to party animals."

 

;-)

 

OOC: An ACCEPTED application story, dauna. Welcome to the Mighty Pen! I hope you find us a very friendly and welcoming community of creative writers, and am glad that Black finally convinced you to apply. I'm looking forward to reading more of your stuff and to participating with you in community projects. Once again, welcome!

[Black9]

How could I not;)

[dauna]

"Thanks Wyvern!" George said, pumping his hand enthusiastically. "Well, I'm ok with reality and death being a little unpredictable as long as there are people around. Actually it can be quite amusing at times... But you know, falling upwards isn't really all that much fun. Makes me queasy just thinking about it!"

 

OOC: Thanks! LOL, and after all I said about being ready to wait months, here you are so very prompt!

 

Yep, Black can be quite persuasive. Personally I don't think he's irresistible, though! If I'd really wanted to resist, I would have. But I didn't.

[Quincunx]

The doorknob shook, the doorjamb reverberated, and whoever was on the other side of the door questioned it, then spoke through the keyhole, "The door's being temperamental again. Tzimfemme here, who's in there?"

 

"I could unstick that door right away with an Almost Dragonic Temperamental Door Unsticker, but the Almost Dragonic laboratories are a little short on research funding--"

 

"Who's in there other than Wyvern?"

 

"Me. Dauna. George."

 

The voice behind the keyhole didn't interject as it had before. "One moment. . ." it replied, and went unintelligible. By Wyvern's desk, the air shimmered silver and coalesced, leaving the naked mage herself with one hand resting on Dauna's application form. Tzimfemme brushed away her goosebumps with her free hand while her body materialized. "Apologies for that. It's not name magic, I assure you, but if I just point at this office and say 'to the paperwork', I'll set off an avalanche," she half-explained, and perched on the edge of the desk to read. Soon enough she jerked her head away from the story and studied George.

 

"You've come straight out of the dynamo. . ." the naked mage wondered aloud. "Been awhile since we had one of those. . .This is my duty here--don't worry, no chaos will cross this threshold unless it's invited. Same as vampires." That made her laugh.