Jump to content
The Pen is Mightier than the Sword

The Dreamlost and Found


Wyvern

Recommended Posts

Wyvern dashes into the Cabaret Room with a large wooden crate clutched between his claws, which he holds on the tips of his horns for balance. The overgrown lizard scoots to a halt once he nears reverie's "poetry cafe"-style table at the far corner of the room, and freezes as reverie turns from the depths of one of his thorough poetry analyses. Wyvern bows deeply towards the Pen's resident dreamlost poet, accidentally letting the crate slide off of his horns in the process. He flinches as it lands with a crunchy splintering sound that could only be associated to the finest quality of C-grade wood.

 

"Happy Birthday, rev." Wyvern grins towards reverie as he shoves the remains of the crate forward with his tail. "Don't wanna disturb you from your poetic pursssuits for too long, but I gotcha this Almost Dragonic Brand Wooden Meter Organizer™ in the hopes of easing the stress of writing structured poems. Made out of real meters of wood."

 

Wyvern glances down at the remains of the crate and nudges it an inch further towards reverie, biting his scaly lip.

 

"Of courssse, now that it's spread a bit more thin, I suppose it'd be better to save it for the more fragmented freeform stuff." Wyvern stares down at the shards of wood and frowns as he finds that several are now jutting from his feet. "That, or a simple boobytrap to ward off critics. Anyways, Happy Birthday!"

 

;-)

 

OOC: A slightly belated Happy Birthday to you reverie. I know there are a bunch of people here who really appreciate the class discussions and poetry that you always share, and I always appreciate your poems and intelligent commentaries on people's works. You're also a really cool guy to hang out with in person... Here's hoping your 29th went well! :-)

Link to comment
Share on other sites

Have a Holly Jolly CHR....err, no, that's not it.

 

For he's a jolly good fel....Oh rats...not that either.

 

Let's see....Mary had a little .....nope.....

 

Ah HA.

 

Happy Birthday to you, Happy Birthday to you, Happy Birthday dear Reverie, Happy Birthday to you!!!!!!!!

 

"Now where did I put that paddle....swats are for birthdays, right? hmmmmm....THERE it is....now just bend over slightly there lad, this won't hurt a bit...."

 

With that, the old Bard leans forward slightly, testing his swing with the awkward tool of corporal punishment, errr, well wishes, and begins to approach the Poet at his table.

 

Suddenly, from seemingly nowhere, and tiny blur comes directly into his path, knocking the old wizard backward into a table of giggling Pennites. Just as suddenly, the little blur stops, and everyone sees Minta holding onto the paddle that was, just moments earlier, held in the hand of GeldrinHor.

 

As the little girl begins to stroll out of the room, if you listen carefully, you hear her mumbling,

 

"I'll call you SPIKE....my zombie swatter....yeaaaaaaah!"

 

 

 

Happy Birthday there, Poet. :innocent:

Link to comment
Share on other sites

×
×
  • Create New...