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The Pen is Mightier than the Sword

Why I stayed up till 5AM last night


Canid

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The Cabaret room was almost empty. The fire was dead. Only a few candles remained lit as early morning readers bent attentively over their studies in the dark room.

Books taken down from the top shelves, so they could be cleaned lay stacked in piles beside the chairs, and fresh spiderwebs had been spun against the plaster where it was now exposed.

The bar was untended, and the stage at the end of the room was played upon by the castle mice, scampering about to consume the remains of the tomatoes and other vegetables thrown the previous evening.

 

Canid seemed to add only to the silence as she padded her way down the great hallway and into the room.

Paintbrushes and fine inks added a subtle perfume to the air as she unpacked them at one of the heavy oak tables with a thousand cup rings on it.

Not really the work space for fine art, but that wasn't after all what she had come to create.

She carefully pinned down about a dozen tiny parchments, as wide as postage stamps to the table and unstopped a jar of black ink.

Smiling, she dipped her claw in and carefully touched the first little page with its tip.

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"Damn."

 

One or two of the other readers looked up.

Canid pulled out a scrap of blotting paper and tried again, this time wiping claw off on the paper first.

She traced out two little circles.

 

One of the early birds came over to stare over the wolf's shoulder.

The picture was familiar. He remembered seeing it at the Pen before, but it hadn't been around for a while.

The wolf mixed up a little bit of brown paint and gripped a specially designed paintbrush between her toes.

She filled in the circles with tiny strokes. Little number ones just barely visible in the centres, painted in with a lighter brown. Posted Image

The wolf nodded with satisfaction and turned to the third parchment.

Edited by Canid
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A few hours of work found a total of six of the tiny pages filled in, and Canid in a lump under the table sleeping soundly.

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A little sign was now set up in the middle of a large ink puddle (fortunately a couple feet away from the drying parchments). It was soaking up the ink and rapidly becoming illegible, but for now it read:

"PLEASE FEEL FREE TO MAKE YOUR OWN. LOTS MORE PARCHMENTS IN THE BAG. USE MY PAINTS.

CHEERS, CANIPosted Image"

 

 

OOC: This post was broken up due to the posting restriction of five images per.

These smilies can also be seen with unmutilated filenames, but also alas with a banner add here:

Stupid Angelfire doesn't like remote linking to the images, so I have to use this ad-riddled webpage

Edited by Canid
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Lil Morgy stumbles sleepily into the room rubbing her eyes with one hand and dragging MrTeddy with the other.

"Why *yawn* is she waving with her *yawn* ears like that MrTeddy?...........oh.........shiny???.....oh......but it looks silly!!!"

Sleepily she toddles over to where Canid rests.

"She *yawn* looks comfy do u think i coud *YAWN*!"

Lil Morgy curls up next to Canid thumb in mouth and with a happy smile and a MrTeddy blanket drifts off to sleep.

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Wyvern slithers back into the Cabaret Room, dryer than before but still a bit pale over the prospect of finding hidden puddles leftover from the faucet tide. The overgrown lizard stares up at the ceiling as his tail swishes past the empty bar, marveling at the new spider webs and the rekindling of the candles so soon after the wave had hit. The lizard nods with approval as he steps past the Valdar-Rydia huddle, grinning at the lack of drippy ceiling grates.

 

"Well, I mussst say, Zool did a great job of whipping these quarters back into shape. Heck, I never even realized the old codger could use a mop, what with that frame of his."

 

Wyvern scratches his chin, then flinches away from Rydia's ultra-emphatic tone as she and Valdar begin circling the shiny in their protective huddle. The overgrown lizard pauses next to the sleeping duo of Canid and Morgane, only to suddenly go a sickly shade of purple as he notices a miniature image doodled under one of Canid's paws.

 

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"Canid, wake up!" Wyvern nudges Canid with a scaly foot to no avail, then slowly begins inching his stinger in her direction. "The fish has gotta go, no remnants of the 'Rubber Faucet Wave' incident should remain in these quarters. We're gonna need a mini-harpoon, a mini-spatula, and a mini set of ssseasoning saltsss so we can do away with it.... That, or we could forcefeed it to Rubber Chicken as a form of punishment."

 

;-)

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*posts her request here as well*

 

Appy bounces in on her (fill in the blank). I want this! *holds up said object* That would be sooooooo cool if I can show everyone my (fill in blank space) *beams*.

 

~ You know what I would love to see Canid ^_^ *points at her signature*. Also, great job and thank you for your efforts! :D ~

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"Canid, wake up!" Wyvern poked the sleeping wolf with his foot.

Canid's eyes remained sealed. She snored meaningfully, though slowly became aware of an almost dragonic prattling beside her.

"...so we can do away with it.... That, or we could forcefeed it to Rubber Chicken as a form of punishment."

The wolf reached out a paw and placed it on the fish painting, drawing it closer.

Canid's eyelids flickered and she caught a glimpse of a large red stinger headed towards her shoulder.

A very deep, very low rumble rent the air around the wolf.

Wyvern froze.

Canid kept growling.

He slowly withdrew his tail.

Canid stopped.

 

Wyvern looked at the carp tucked securely against Canid's chest and a smile spread slowly across his face. He shuffled out of the room to make friends with a fishing gnome.

 

Canid opened her eyes.

"Alright, I'm up."

She placed a pillow under Lil Morgy's head and set about making a new sign for the table.

 

"NOW TAKING REQUESTS."

 

A moment latter, Appy bounced in on her Posted Image

Canid rubbed her paws together and mixed some pink paint.

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Just then a very large portrait, magic-carpet like, glided into the Cabaret, only a few inches off the ground. the portrait floated to the front of the large central fireplace and tipped to a sudden halt, causing a stream of water, which had been cupped by the large gilt frame, to drain off the now tilted painting.

 

"PBTHRTHBTHRTHTHBBBER CHICKEN!" sputtered Zool as the water drained off of him.

 

The massive painting moved eerily, haltingly, slowly upright, first lurching one way and then another, before suddenly popping up off the ground towards the wall, it's hanging wire catching on it's nail and then slamming into place, hanging once again, if a bit akimbo. On the ground, from where the painting had been launched, was a very bedraggled and still somewhat stretched out of shape rubber chicken.

 

"Well!" said Zool, wringing water out of his painted clothes as he peeked from between the unkempt strands of his drenched coiffure, which now looked more like a disheveled black mop. Bending over, he thrashed his great mane of a toupee like a whip as he suddenly stood, sending water shooting out of the painting and his hair pointing straight up off his head into it's customary extra-exaggerated shape, topping out in a flamboyant curl. "That's better," he said, once again approaching his formerly regal, if somewhat comic bearing.

 

"If someone could just straighten me..." Zool looked around expectantly, but many were still straightening furniture, or too engrossed in shinies or their own discussions to be of help. "Anyone...?" Zool asked again. Again, there were no takers. With a sigh, Zool shrugged, braced his shoulder, and ran as hard as he could against the frame at the side of his painting. The portrait jerked into a level position. Picking himself back up, he brushed himself off, took up his silver handled walking stick, caught the rubber chicken as it leaped back into the painting, and resumed his eternal watch over the cabaret.

 

Zool turned his eyes to Canid as Appy bounced out of the Cabaret. "You know," he said, an interested look in his eyes, "Poor Matt, my curvaceously comely crown, my pleasingly proportioned plumage, my amazing magical mane, and the coolest wash and wear hairdo ever, has always been shortchanged in the recognition department. Perhaps you could do something for my right-hand thatch, my rooftop mop, my shocking shock? If so, Matt and I would be forever grateful." :D

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"It would be an honour." replied the wolf, bowing slightly.

She dragged a coffee table infront of Zool's Portrait and pinned down another of the tiny parchments.

Dipping her claw in the inkpot she squinted up at Matt.

It looked rather smug, rather like it should have a tail, and if it did, it would be wagging.

Canid started to scratch out the miniature.

Just then a very wet purple fuzzy thing jumped on the table. The mouse sized creature marched forward in a fury, squeaking madly and failing to look down as it trod across the wolf's picture. It gestured wildly to Canid.

"Meep! Squeak! Meepa meep meep. Squeak! Squeak! Squeak!"

It shook itself off and bristled. :Fuzzy:

"What is it saying?" Zool leaned in, in his portrait, staring at the thing as it drizzled water onto the table.

"I'm not really sure," replied Canid, "it's speaking rather more rapidly than I am used to."

The purple fuzzy thing pulled out what looked like a very wet shower cap. It shook the edge of the cap with a tiny clenched purple fist and continued to squeak.

The wolf nodded slightly. "I think it tried to hide in that cap when the wave hit...."

She lifted up the shower cap with one paw. It was someone's old handkerchief, sewn into a hat-shape and elasticated around the bottom. She could still see the monogram sewn into the cloth. There was also a sticker peeling off from the inside.

"Posted Image Almost Dragonic Brand February Shower Cams - not guaranteed effective after 1/31/07

Made at The Pen

2/01/07"

"Ah." Said the wolf.

She set aside the hankie and pointed the fuzzy thing toward a stack of towels that had been brought into the room for the clean up.

 

Canid disposed of the ruined parchment, wiped off the table and pinned down another one to try again.

"Okay Matt, pose for the cameras..." the wolf muttered.

The toupee seemed to puff up slightly.

Canid opened her mouth to say something and closed it again.

She dipped a claw in the ink and started again.

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Zool is a picture of excitement. His eyes wide, and an actual blush coloring his usually well oiled complexion, his jaw hanging open though for the moment unable to utter a sound. Matt is literally a-quiver with emotion.

 

Finally, Zool managed to speak. "Ah! Doth mine eyes deceive me? Or has someone actually created images that we can call our own?? I am grateful to my utmost." Zool bowed low. "And Matt, I can tell you, is also quite beholdenmf..." After Zool's bow Matt had shifted forward to get a better look, completely covering Zool's face. He reached up and corrected the errant hairpiece. "I'll tell her, don't worry." he said quietly to the top of his head. "Matt, as I was saying, is also quite grateful." :ElvisWig:

 

"Thank you, thank you Canid!" :w00t:

 

"Now, whenever someone sees the brass nameplate at the bottom of the painting, they will know that what they have seen is The Portrait of Zool. B)

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  • 5 weeks later...

Valdar, clutching his :shiny: approached the tired wolf and tugged on her tail.

Canid turned around and smiled at him.

He pointed longingly up at the skylight and muttered something.

"Puppy mffle mff shiny mmmfle mmmf painting."

She frowned.

"I'm not a puppy Valdar."

The little boy grinned. "Puppy."

"Wolfy, Valdar."

"Puppy."

"Say 'wolfy' and I'll paint you your very own."

Lil' Valdar's eyes went wide.

"Wolfy." he said, appeasingly."

"Very good."

 

Canid took out some more paper, and proceeded to paint the stars....

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View all against black and tan here:

http://www.angelfire.com/80s/Canid/images/...es/BlackBG.html

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