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The Pen is Mightier than the Sword

Promotions through the park one day...


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The third preview ends, and the screen goes black again. It stays that way for six full seconds; there is no sight, no sound. The people sitting in the rows around you become restive.

 

 

Hello?

 

 

When the call comes, you are unsure for a split second if the man talkign to the woman with him in a too loud voice, but he has fallen silent, staring again, with the rest of the theater at the still blank screen, waiting expectantly. There is another moment of silence before the bright, unmistakable flash of steel- or was it mercury? -fills the screen. Eyes have just enough time to process the glint of light on silvery metal before the image is accompanied by a clear, ringing crash of steel on steel. Then the image is gone, with the ringing tapering off into nothing. Your brain has now had enough time to process the fact that the metal was two sword blades crafted in a very European style.

 

 

You have to smile to yourself a little as you realize some jumped in their seats, the whole incident is so abrupt.

 

 

Hello?, calls the voice again, now plainly distressed- perhaps sad, perhaps frightened.

 

 

From the dark comes a rustle that is at first unfamiliar, then becomes the sight of a yellowish scroll being unrolled by wizened fingers. The owner of the hands takes up a quill, dips it once into a deep, burgundy ink, taps excess liquid out into the jar. They begin to write: Once upon a time...

 

 

The picture is gone. The voice calls out again, more desperate, "Is there anybody out there?"

 

 

Another hand slides into view on the blackness- but this one is undeniably feminine; so light, so delicately contoured it seems alomst luminous. Diaphonous silk slides down the wrist and back again as it gestures slowly, fluidly, up and down. It beckons to someone or something that cannot be seen.

 

 

There is another break in sight as the arm is withdrawn. This time, there is no voice calling out to someone who does not answer- there is only a granite wall standing before you, filling the screen, brick by ponderous brick.

 

 

There is a voice, but whether it is the same or not is impossible to tell- its screams are too rending to the ear, though it is muffled.

 

After long seconds have passed, the wall is in turn replaced by a title:

 

The Sword

 

Then:

 

COMING SOON

 

 

 

Starring MATTHEW FOX as "DL_Snake" TIM ALLEN as "Da_Yog" MILO VENTIMIGLIA

as "TheResearcher" Original Songs by STEREOGRAM Music Composed by

DOCTOR STEEL Written by OZYMANDIAS and LIQUIDGENERATION.COM QUIZZES

Produced by GWAIHIR Directed by OZYMANDIAS a THE PEN IS MIGHTIER THAN

THE SWORD PROMOTIONS Production

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  • 2 weeks later...

Troll basics, from the trollish minds of Eye of Mordor:

 

One, two, many, many one, many two, many many, many many one, many many two. No troll could be found with more than eight surviving fingers to confirm higher numerals.

Red sock on the right foot; green sock on the left foot.

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Hassium blinks, finally realizing that there is something nudging his elbow rather insistently. With his mind still partially locked into the complex reactions he had been analysing, he risks a glance down and arches his eyebrows seeing one if the guinea pigs almost nibbling through his lab coat at the right elbow.

 

He mumbles, sorely tempted to pick the small fellow by his neck and throwing him back to the lab, with a small yelled note to his Chief Assistant to mind the test subjects better unless he wanted to lose his job. His always attentive mind signals, though, that this is a sibling of his now infamous Talking Guinea Pig (his assistants had quite a time catching all Pig's siblings, half-siblings, and littersiblings, and tagging all of them with color-coded collars), and so he sighs and turns his full attention to the little rodent.

 

Well, what do we have here... He takes the note tucked into the collar of the guinea pig before pushing it towards the end of the table; the rodent quickly jumps to the bookshelf, and then down a strategically-placed wooden board that takes it to a tiny flap-door, where the hand of the Chief Assistant is wainting for it. The Chief Assistant sighs, happy that the trick he had taught the little guinea pig worked -- it was always safer to not be disturbing the Professor personally unless one wanted to risk becoming a test subject.

 

Hassium takes some time reading and re-reading the note, until it finally dawns on him that he has not visited The Pen Keep, specifically its Cabaret Room, for quite some time...

 

 

 

Thank you very much for the honor of the promotion... sorry for not having been around lately, I have been completely caught up by the weirdest of reactions, and my mind seems unable to leave unasnwered questions of that nature! I cannot promise more frequent vocal visiting, but please be sure that I always have an eye in here and will try to contribute more as time permits.

 

Congratulations to my colleagues in this happy event!!

 

With an apologetic smile, Hassium bows and leaves the Cabaret Room, most of his mind already caught by a sudden insight into the reaction kinetics of transuranic elements. However, for once he also forces part of his mind to stop to see what is happening in the several rooms of the Keep that line his way back to his laboratory.

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