I have a proposition for you Guv

[Norman]

Norman wondered through the piles of paper littering the floor, walls, tables, chairs and anything else that made up the room that Wyvern was meant to be in, but obviously wasnt. He was rather surprised at the many rather incriminating documents that seemed to be misplaced in the chaos that was the recruiters office.

 

The orcish cunning and survival instincts of a small orc in a large orc tribe came to the fore front of Norman's mind.

 

Norman walked out onto a balcony of paperwork just above Wyverns desk, and sat down in thought, before beginning his letter of introduction.

 

Greetings to the most esteemed Wyvern,

 

Please honour me with a response to my humble yet honest application. I am ever grateful to you for the consideration that you shall give, to my document of application and introduction.

 

My name is Norman, Norman the Runt. I am of orcish decent, and humbly request entry to this wonderful place of residence.

 

In return I shall offer my services to remove certain documents from the easily accessible piles, and file them in a location that would be of a more secure nature, thereby preventing the detection of your diverse business dealings, from those that may missunderstand the intentions of your business accumen.

 

I hope that we can come to a mutually benificial arrangement, and as a token of my good intentions I have already filed some of your more interesting paperwork in a special location, situated in the wooden panelling of a desk, away from prying eyes, if you take my meaning.

 

Please direct all requests for further services to myself at your earliest convienence, and I look forward to the acceptance of my most humble application.

 

Yours in the utmost good faith,

 

Norman the Runt,

Orcish Businessman.

 

 

Norman went back to browsing the paper work that formed the bulk of the rooms contents, aquiring copies of the more interesting ones and filing them in a 'secure location' situated in a desk, however, not specifically the desk in Wyvern's office.

[Wyvern]

The ledge outside the Office window creaks and groans as a tail pokes its way through a slim opening under the glass. The tail seems to fumble about for a moment, then pauses as the tip of its stinger connects with an interior lock keeping the window shut. The tail seems to twist to an uncomfortable angle as the stinger pokes its way into the keyhole, only to flail back in the right direction as the length of the tail flies back out of the window crack. It almost vanishes completely, but is held in sight by the stinger as it manages to hook itself onto the interior window frame. After a prolonged cry of pain and countless door-related curses, the length of the tail slides back into the room, followed by two scaly claws. The lock snaps as the window is pulled open by brute force. Wyvern storms in from the cold, dizzy and panting, his scales in total disarray.

 

"Don't give me that look." Wyvern grits his teeth and points an accusatory claw at Woody the Office door. The door tries its best to suppress a splintered grin. "One o' thessse days, I'm gonna have one of the Pen's talented artisssts carve an almost dragonic advertisssement in that grainy face of yers, yeesh!"

 

Wyvern stomps on the ground and growls, seething with frustration for a few minutes. He then grumbles to himself and turns towards his Office mess, noting how unusually quiet and empty the Office seems given the hour. The overgrown lizard steps over a few ragged magazines as he hikes towards his desk, only to pause and raise a brow as he notices something out of line... an empty spot? The winter paperwork wasteland was still in full effect, but there were now areas that seemed as though they'd been shoveled in the tidiest manner possible.

 

"Hrmph, that's odd." Wyvern frowns at the effect that an organized spot has on the Office's look as a whole, and scoops up some papers from a nearby pile to sprinkle them over the clean area. "I coulda sworn there wasss a bush of crumpled tax documentsss here just a day ago. And what happened to the trail of used Madlib paper airplanes leading to the smut stump? Hmmm..."

 

Wyvern turns and carefully retraces his steps, wandering around the Office for a moment until he finally reaches what appears to be the same lightly-sprinkled spot that he'd started from. He frowns and curses to himself, then proceeds to wander around in circles for a long while until he spots the familiar peaks of paperwork above his desktop. The reptilian races in the direction of the monument, and screeches to a confetti-filled halt as he arrives at an unfamiliar lump of discarded schemes. He seats himself on top of the lump and lets out a long sigh, then pauses as he notices a fresh-looking piece of paper at his feet.

 

"Hmmm." Wyvern picks up Norman the Runt's application letter and reads it over. He slowly nods and folds the sheet, scanning the paperwork horizon for any signs of an applicant. "That's weird, I wonder where he we-"

 

Wyvern freezes up as the paperwork lump that he's sitting on begins quaking beneath him. The overgrown lizard jumps from his spot and backs away, only to jump back again as Norman the Runt surfaces from the depths of the lump. The exhausted applicant gasps for air, his orcish demeanor gone deathly pale.

 

"Paper *cough* avalanche... was just trying to *gasp* to clean, when-"

 

"Ahhhh geeze. Lissssten, you never almost suffocated in my Office paperwork, alright?" Wyvern bites his scaly lip, then unfolds Norman the Runt's application letter and cleans it of its stray confetti. The overgrown lizard stamps the application ACCEPTED, then turns to Norman with the letter firmly in hand. "As for your offer: thanksss, but no thanks. It's tempting, but I'd prefer if you invested in a piece of Almost Dragonic Brand Scrap Paper Property™ instead. The retail value of thisss exotic location is bound to skyrocket in value once all of the world's copy machines have been disposed of, after all."

 

;-p

 

OOC: An ACCEPTED application piece, Norman. Welcome to the Mighty Pen! :-) I look forward to roleplaying with you much more, as well as to reading any other writing that you might have to offer the Pen. Once again, welcome.

[Norman]

The pale complexion of amost suffocated orc faded to the even paler more 'healthy' pallor of a orc once more able to breath more than paper. Norman watched his application receive its stamp of acceptance, smiled and bowed low in thanks to the large, and truely awe inspiring, business minded, reptilian, elder type gentleman, with the dexturous tail.

 

"Thanks Guv, I am truely honoured that someone of your obvoius talents and business skills, would stoop to my low level, 'scuse the pun, to accept my humble and sincere application."

 

"I hope that the paperwork that moved wont cause much imbalance in your picturesque office scenery, it would be remiss of me not to worry about the repeat of the incident with the avalanch, that of cause didnt happen, to happen, if you take my meaning."

 

Norman backed toward the door and slipped it a fiver to keep the sorting and shifting of certain documents under its hinges, thanked the Almost Draconic Elder for his acceptance one final time, and dashed back to the secure sanctuary of the caberet room, to 'read'.

 

 

 

ooc: Thank you Wyvern for the wonderful acceptance of my application, I look forward to roleplaying further with you too, and hopefully find enough inspiration to write something worthwhile.