Da Job Interview!

[AshtonBlades]

AshtonBlades sits in his chair in front of Wyvern's office, with all the other applicants. Whenever he looks down, the other applicants look at him oddly.

The group of pages, knights, elves, wizards, witches, and all other types of magical creatures have never seen this type of applicant before.

 

Sittng in his chair, the 19 year old, is quite a sight. Sporting a tight-fitting black-on-black hoodie, wearing a backwards red fitted basebal cap with the initials "AB" sewn into it. Dark brown braided hais seeps from under the hat. Numerous tattoos are seen on both arms from the shoulder to his wrists, the most noticeable being a red dragon on his right arm with the name "Gyoro" beneath, and the same on the left arm, except the dragon was blue wih the name "Ururun" under it. his pants were excessively baggy, with a skull wallet chain hanging from the diamond skull on his belt buckle. A fresh pair of red/black Air Force 1s are his chosen footwear. From his earlobes, two twin gold earrings resembling short swords hang, swaying lightly as he moves his head. From his neck hangs a chain with a large diamond studded "AB" charm on it. In his hand is a wireless microphone and nothing else. A small stereo sits beside his chair.

 

"Nexxxxxxt," a snakelike voice hisses. Ashton gets up, picking up his stereo as well. All eyes follow him to the office door, where "Wyvern, Elder of Initiates" is printed on the door window.

 

Ashton knocks.

 

"Enter," was the short reply.

 

He pushes the door open, and sees a large dragon behind the desk. Papres are strewn all over the desk, not because of all the applicants, but mainly because the dragon was using his large wingspan to fan himself.

 

"Mr. AshtonBlades, so nice to see you again!" Wyvern remarks. Ashton straightens up, for he is about to be blown over by the force of his wings.

 

"Ey, Wymettic, what's good, yo?" Ashton replies.

 

Wyvern goes into serious mode. "You were here four years ago, and started quite a ruckus. I assumed we had seen the last of you. But alas, here you are. Your new beef with Mardrax and Norman The Runt has stirred up the community quite a bit." As he says this, he grins, showing off his fangs.

 

"Yeah, that's what is was, really," Ashton said. "But I've decided to make this my home, at least for a while."

 

"Well, we'll see about that. Have you a resumé?" the Elder holds out a clawed hand.

 

Ashton smiles. "I'm glad you asked that." he sits the stereo down and pushes "Play". A bass heavy track echoes in the large office as Ashton cuts the mic on.

 

"Ey yo, My name's Ashton and I've come to see the vets,

To get initiated on TheMightyPen.net,

I've battled tooth and nail to get the top spot,

Those other MCs were slower than the tick of my watch,

I left the board, but then got a little sentimental,

Came back, and saw all of the new potential,

I thought, "Maybe I can have some real fun with this,"

I must admit, the battles from this place I've missed,

You yourself even got got caught up in the game!

Tackled rappers left and right, leavin' them all shamed,

At this moment, I just wanaa see a worthy opponent,

There isn't a new Freestyle King yet, that title, I own it,

I know I ask ask a lot, even though I departed,

Please make me a member, so I can get this game started!"

 

Turning off the mic and stereo, AshtonBlades stands in front of Wyvern's desk with his hands in his pockets.

[Wyvern]

"Hmmm..." Wyvern hops out of his seat and wanders up to Ashtonblades' stereo, hitting the rewind button in the hopes of relistening to the freestyler's application in greater detail. The reptilian Elder grumbles to himself when the speakers pump only the bassline beat and no rhymes. "I don't suppose you have a tape with that verssse on it so I can relisten to yer application again?"

 

Ashtonblades stares at Wyvern with an offended expression, then pulls his hands from his pockets and raises his cordless mic.

 

"No recorded verses, this is all freestyle

Only a mic and a-"

 

"O.K, O.K!" Wyvern raises his claws in the hopes of calming Ashtonblades a bit. He slowly backs away towards his recruitment desk, hoping to place some barrier between him and the battle rapper. "It'sss O.K, forget about re-hearing the application rhyme. I'll just think of some other rights of passage to put you through, alright?"

 

Wyvern slumps back into the seat at his desk and raises a claw to his chin, swinging his tail back and forth as his diabolical mind goes over the options. The overgrown lizard leans back in his easychair and picks at its armrests, ripping them a bit with his claws. Eventually, he raises his snout towards Ashtonblades and scratches his horns.

 

"Well... I would pit you in a competition with my prize-fighting Almost Dragonic Brand Goblin-Imp Freestyle Assistant™ for the title of Initiate, but the little reptilianoid has yet to advance passst the 'rhyming words in English' stage of rapping." Wyvern opens the front drawer of his desk and begins digging through its layers of junk. "I'll tell ya what, you look like a guy who enjoys wearing the very latest in funky fresh-style fashionsss... you did boost the ratings of the Almost Report with yer rap-related image, after all. How about you start sporting a couple of new fashion accessories, and I start searching for my acceptance stamp?"

 

Ashtonblades raises a brow at Wyvern and frowns.

 

"New fashion accessories?"

 

"Oh yeah, you'll love this stuff." Wyvern begins pulling out hideous variations of hip hop stylez from his desk. The overgrown lizard sets a W-shaped Almost Dragonic Brand Petrified Wood Bling™ necklace on the desktop, followed by a pair of Almost Dragonic Brand Airforce Janitor Mocassins™ and an extra-large Almost Dragonic Brand Advertisement Billboard Jersey™. Wyvern strikes a sinister grin and begins rubbing his claws together. "Jussst trade in your normal fashions for these Ralph LeWyvern designsss, and I'll see to it that you're made an Initiate in no time!"

 

Ashtonblades twists his face at the horrendous "fashion" garbs on Wyvern's desk, then raises his microphone once again.

 

"I ain't a sell-out, no Ralph LeWyvern here,

you wanna contes-"

 

"Alright! Alright." Wyvern raises a claw and grunts, pulling a long document from under his chair. "Fine, no change of fashion required. Jussst sign at the bottom of this sheet, and you'll be set to move on up to Initiate."

 

Ashtonblades pauses, then plucks the document from Wyvern's desk to glance over it. He frowns at the title "Almost Dragonic Brand Non-Mutual Commercial Hit Recording Contract Agreement™," and grimaces as he reads over the various clauses regarding the restricted "troll clubbing" subject matter he'd be limited to and the way that all profits for any recordings would go directly to Almost Dragonic Inc. He shreds the contract in his hands and grits his teeth, glaring at Wyvern with an angry rapper expression (as seen on WMTV).

 

"Eep." Wyvern scoots his seat back as Ashtonblades begins approaching his desk. The reptilian Elder quickly stamps the freestyler's application ACCEPTED and waves it in the air. "There, it's ACCEPTED! Are ya happy now?!"

 

;-)

 

OOC: An ACCEPTED application piece, Ashtonblades. Welcome to the Mighty Pen! :-) I hope that you find the Pen a friendly (key word) and acceptant (key word) community to share your writing with. I look forward to reading more of your stuff, and to seeing more of your intriguing character in events around these parts. Once again, welcome!

[AshtonBlades]

"Thank you. I'm very happy." Ashtons bows to Wyvern and walks out of the office. He scans over the other applicants as they eye him warily.

 

"Didn't think it would happen, huh?! The BladeMan is back! It's official now, yo!" He runs out of the waiting area.

 

*Thanks for accepting my application, and sorry for causing all of the trouble*