The Almost Report Shapes the News While Shifting Through Dego's St

[Wyvern]

The central news camera flickers on, only to immediately go black as a tossed article of clothing slaps against its lens. A webbed hand brushes the black tank top to the side, revealing a wide closet area where Wyvern shuffles through piles of clothes with a slightly frantic look on his snout. If disheveled appearances are anything to go by, the reptilian reporter has decidedly seen better days. The scales on his head point in every direction and the loose inside-out T-shirt he’s wearing is riddled with curly onion cheese doodle grease stains. Wyvern lets out a long hiss as he digs deep into the pile of shirts, twisting his snout as he comes up empty-handed.

 

“C’mon, Arlequin’s lute’s gotta be around here sssomewhere!” Wyvern sighs and makes a messy pile out of the clothes he was sorting through before turning to exit the closet. He accidentally wacks the pile of clothes with the length of his tail as he turns, scattering black dresses and undergarments. “The price tag on that thing is jussst too high to have it on permanent loan from Arlequin’sss quartersss, especially given the recent plummet in show ratingsss.”

 

The cameras move out of the closet and pan over the sketches of creatures and their anatomies that hang on the wall, passing by a scythe leaning near a corner of the room before Wyvern blocks the view of the cameras with one of his wings.

 

“Where could it be? I mean, it’sss not that small an instrument is it?” Wyvern turns to the news crew, only to suddenly notice that the cameras are rolling. He slaps his forehead with a claw, then clears his throat and goes right back to searching with a hectic flail of his claws. “Welcome to the Almossst Report, broadcasting to you live from Degorram’s persssonal Pen quarters. Tryin’ our best to stay afloat in today’s solitary news climate… with an Almost Dragonic Brand Deflatable Pixie Lifevest,™ no less. Anyway, lotsa Pen news cover today, so lisssten up.”

 

Wyvern begins tracing his claws over the various sketches that hang on the walls as he speaks, searching for any secret compartments the size of a lute.

 

“At the top of the Pen newsss this afternoon, September Pen Promotionsss will unfortunately not be taking place this month.” Wyvern kneels down and peeks under Dego’s carpet for a moment, scanning for musical instruments. “This is not due to Elder absences or scheduling conflictsss, but rather that there’s no one to promote this month and hence no need for a promotions thread. Expect the next ssset of promotions to occur in November.”

 

Wyvern grumbles and wanders over to Degorram’s desk, scanning it for any odd shapes or shadows. He shifts through papers, pictures, paintbrushes and quills in the hopes of finding the expensive instrument buried somewhere, but curses as he comes up short.

 

“In other Pen newsss, resident orc Norman the Runt is taking questionsss and offering challenges in return via his wordplay booth in the Cabaret Room.” Wyvern pauses for a moment as he discovers a dried lizard amongst the items on Degorram’s desktop. He pokes at it, then shivers to himself and backs away with a frown. “*ahem* Pen members are encouraged to participate in the event, and are extra-encouraged to enquire about the whereabouts of Arlequin’s lute…”

 

Wyvern hisses to himself and moves over to Degorram’s bed, which looks rather messy and chaotic when compared to the organized state of the rest of the quarters. He tosses a pillow to the side and digs through the thick quilts of the resting space, plunging in headfirst. The cameras lose track of Wyvern as he digs deeper, and decide to focus on a shot of his rear end as it juts from the bed sheets like an Almost Dragonic Brand Spiky Scale Bedwarmer™. The troglyodyte soundmen adjust their volume levels as Wyvern’s hiss is faintly heard beneath the sheets.

 

“Pen members interested in sharing some of their other social localesss may also wanna check the recently ressssurected myspace/facebook Cabaret discussion. Or if that failsss, there’s always Almost Dragonic Brand Inky Pennite Tracking Magnets,™ which're available for only 50 geld per order and shipping this inssstant.”

 

Wyvern emerges from the mountain of quilts and pillows with a gasp, clutching something in one of his claws. The reptilian reporter glances at the plush wyvern doll he’s holding and blushes, then tosses the doll to the side and lets out a little sigh.

 

“To wrap thingsss up, there’s a chance that the Almost Report ssscheduled for 9/8/08 may be delayed to a later date or possssibly cancelled. Blame it on funding issuesss, viewership ratings, and post-CheerMynx depression.” Wyvern tilts his head over the side of the bed until he’s hanging upside down and staring under it. The reptilian reporter shifts from his position until he falls off of the bed, then begins attempting to squeeze under it. “Now if you’ll excussse me, *grunt* I have a lute to seek out…”

[Degorram]

Degorram had not been expecting visitors.

 

She stared at the crew of troglodite cameramen standing crowded in the middle of her room, her hand still on the handle of her door. Wyvern's bottom was protruding from under her bed, his legs kicking now and then as he tried to delve further in. Her Wyvern plush sat discarded on the bed, unearthed recently by, obviously, the same lizard who was now sticking his snout under her bed.

 

Degorram walked forward, ignoring the frantic stairs and whispers of the troglodites. One kicked Wyvern's leg, attempting to grasp his attention. The almost dragon kicked back, missing by several feet, and said in a bed-muffled voice "Whatch your feet, I'm bussssy!"

 

Degorram tapped Wyvern's scaly rump and bent down so that he would see her face from under the bed. "Looking for something Wyv?"

 

"YIPESSSS!" Wyvern yelped, bumping his head on the underside of Degorram's sleeping quarters and stabbing one of his horns into a support plank. "D-D-D-Dego!! What a p-pleasssant ssssurprisssse!" He wiggled out from under the bed as fast as he could and stood up, nonchalantly leaning against the bed. A red flush was creeping up his scales as he scratched the back of his neck.

 

"Surprise?" A small quirk of a smile touched Degorram's otherwise cold face. "It's my room, after all." She glanced around. "The decoration's not much, but I do try." She looked back to see Wyvern once again staring at the tiny replica of himself, sitting grinning on her pillow. Her eyes flashed purple for a quick moment before she picked it up and squeezed it's head. "It's not a voodoo doll, if that's what you're worried about."

 

"Oh, nonononononono!" Wyvern said quickly, waving his arms. "I'm flattered really. Umm....." he cased the room again, seeking anything in the shape of a lute. "You wouldn't have sssssseen a lute around anywhere recently....ssssspecifically in your room.....would you?"

 

Degorram blinked. "Nope."

 

Wyvern sighed. "Oh. Well then, I ssssupossse we'll...um....get out of your hair.....er...." he made frantic motions at the troglodites and they hurriedly shuffled through the door. Wyvern backed away, avoiding Degorram's rather creepy gaze. "I'll...um....ssssseee you around, eh Dego?" He closed the door behind him and she could hear him tear down the hall, yelling at the cameramen "Why didn't you warn me!?!?"

 

Degorram raised an arm and grabbed one of the tassels hanging from her ceiling, giving it a pull. A small compartment slid open and a no-longer-dusty lute appeared before her eyes. Smirking, she closed the compartment again and walked over to her wall.

 

She was grateful she had put those new sketches up. With a small wave of her hand the two long parchments, one bearing the innards of a Satyr, the other a simple drawing of a Cooper's Burdengle, and placed them on the floor. Beneath them was a large poster with the words "I <3 Wyvern Club!!" and the other was a detailed sketch of an almost dragon.

Edited September 1, 2008 by Degorram

[Degorram]

*huggles Wyvern plushie*