A late almost party, for our fave almost dragon ^.^

[The Big Pointy One]

Heeding Wyvern's advice, Stick scoots away from the party he started at the AMBB, and finds an empty hall back within the keep. He re-sets tables and chairs for those who wish to sit and eat, (although Stick himself prefers to stand ) a half-decent stereo system for those who like music at their parties, (and of course a stage for any wandering musicians who happen to attend, like say... oh I don't know... Falcon? ^.^) and a giant gold-coloured disco ball. He quickly sneaks around the many rooms of the Keep, snatching as much food and alcoholic beverages as possible and distributes them among the tables back in the party hall. While he was out, he slipped invitations under every other door he passed, hoping everyone would stop by, if only for a minute, to wish Wyvern a belated birthday!

 

"Let's get this party started!"

 

That being said, the rest of the Seven shows up; Mr.Bunny and Popku stand around with Stick by the dinner table, Roxxia and Sliver start dancing, Rocoss acts all cool and leans against the wall by the door and of course Toilet Duck gets roaring drunk, ensuring one heck of a party should ensue...

 

(I hope ^.^)

[The Portrait of Zool]

Odd things immediately began to manifest around the room.

 

First, the "half-decent" stereo shuddered with an electric blue glow, coughed, then began pumping out deep rythmic music broadcasting cleanly around the room.

 

The lights darkened. One by one, small colored party light strings hung from the ceilling winked on. A thick fog began to cover the floor from somewhere over by the stereo.

 

Dark shadows flit through doors and around corners at the edges of your vision. Is somether there, lurking in the darker recesses of the room? You're not sure, for every time you turn to look nothing is there. You nervously try to enjoy the party.

 

"...!" Mr Bunny had been casually strolling across the room, highball in hand, when he was suddenly swallowed by the dense fog on the floor, as though jerked to the ground by an unseen force.

 

Everyone in the room gasps, then runs over to help Mr. Bunny up, but he is nowhere to be seen. All that is left is a slowly closing splash in the fog. From somewhere a distant evil laugh echoes...

 

"MuaHahahahahahahaha!"

~Zool~

[The Big Pointy One]

Stick can only remit a light sigh, rolling his eyes as he says,

 

"Oh dear me, not this again..."

 

He knew this was going to be one heck of a party.

[Wyvern]

Wyvern stretches and yawns as he walks down the central hall of the Pen, sorting through numerous tax papers and occasionaly turning to the large group of tourists that wander behind him and smiling... Passing by a trash can, Wyv snorts to himself and tosses the annoying documents into the container, grumbling "good riddance..." under his breath as he guides the crowd of potential initiates onwards... Little does he know that Judicator lays hidden in the cramped confinements of the trash can, working with Jechum in order to help collect all of the tax forms that Wyv has irresponsibly discarded...

 

Wyvern's face gleams with pride as he lifts the loudspeaker to his mouth and turns to the tourists following him... While it was true that giving tours of the Mighty Pen to potential initiates was considered a chore by many, Wyvern actually rather enjoyed it. It gave him a chance to yell at large crowds of people with a loudspeaker, plus he got to show off his (false) wisdom...

 

"To your left..." speaks Wyv confidently through his loadspeaker "we can see the Pen's prized flower, Waterlily... the plant has won several flower competitions, including "flower with the finest vines", "flower of the year", and "flower most likely to succeed"!"

 

The tourists "Ooooooo" and "Aaaaaaa" as Waterlily bows to them and waves with one of it's vines...

 

"To your right..." chimes the overgrown lizard gleefully "We can meet some of the Elders... there's Elder Tzimfemme, nekkid as usual..."

 

The crowd of tourists go silent in awe, and several fumble for their cameras, cursing when they manage to retrieve them only after Tzim has entered a room and shut the door behind her...

 

"Just a little further down, we can also catch Elder Orlan, hard at work!"

 

The tourists turn and gape as they pass a sundeck on which Orlan lays sunbathing with a gorgeous female dominion...

 

"Note that if you were to travel further to the right a bit outside the Pen, you'd come across the cottage of the mysterious Seven Elder Dwarves... But ah! Now we come to the most beautifull section of the Pen! The grandiose central banquet hall!"

 

Wyvern happily pushes the doors to the hall open and gapes in horror and confusion at what he see's... The hall is filled with fog and thumping rythmetic noises, along with shrieks, drunken quacks, and evil laughter. A carrot is tossed out of the room and the crowd watches in horror as the vegetable begins growing and mutating before their very eyes....

 

"Ahahaha..." laughs Wyvern nervously, rubbing the back of his neck "... like I was saying... nothing to see here..."

 

But before the overgrown lizard can finish, a hand reaches out from the fog and pulls him in... Not that the crowd of tourists would care, as they've already fled in terror...

[Guest Judicator84]

Judicator sits idly by in his trash can when he suddenly feels this throng of papers thrown upon him. As Judicator peeks his head out to see who the disposer of these papers was, he notices a very aggitated Wyvern mummbling to himself as he walks towards the door

 

"Ahh!...These were the papers Jechum sent me to intercept. How that man knows these things makes my head hurt."

 

 

Judicator proceeds down the hall and approaches a study where he and Jechum poor over Wyv's credit situation in a severe audit.

"Tsk Tsk Tsk....soo many ballons...so little money to pay for them....guess I'll have to tell him the bad news."

 

Judicator proceeds to the back enterance to the banquet hall, where he sees most everyone having fun in the dance party, excpet a worried Wyv that seems to have lost a flock of sheep to a gigantic carrot lizard. Suddenly, Judicator sees Zool pull out his hand and take the carrot lizard and put it in his pocket(having changed the lizard back into a carrot in the mean time). Judicator then approaches Wyv with the sad news when suddenly Tzim roams into the room and starts dancing around with Wyvern and several others...

 

"*Sigh*...will I ever get anything done around here"

 

Judicator then decides to jump in and have some fun of his own. Wearing his weenie cap and lots of Christmas decorations, Judicator goes about having fun until. . .

[Gyrfalcon]

Gyrfalcon leans against the wall by the door, face set in a small smile as he watches the dancers whirl by. Looking to his right, he sees Rocoss in a similar position.

 

"Can't dance either?" Gyrfalcon asks.

 

"Nope." Rocoss said.

 

Gyrfalcon chuckled as Wyvern is dragged into the room by Stick, and chuckles again as Judicator stumbles through the door, waving his hands before his face to clear the mist away a bit so he can see.

This is going to be an interesting party... always in a Conservatory I moderate, but at least I'm not footing the repair bill this time... Gyrfalcon thought to himself.

[Canid]

Black posted,

 

OOC: I'm not sure if I need to pass a test or such to join in the party...but if I do tell me and I'll delete this.

 

Black walked into the party hall and was not surprised. He knew full well that the chaos would already be starting and hardly noticed it going on around him. In his hand was a gift for Wyvern...and a card to go along with it. The gift was a book with the name of, "1000 Ways to Steal Geld and get away with it". The card lay on the books top and read as this.

 

HAPPY BIRTHDAY, Bob...which was scratched out and replaced with Wyvern. It continued on to say don't worry, what happened last party will never happen again!

 

Black then continued to look around for Wyvern.

Canid posted,

 

Gyrfalcon hears a small swishing noise at his feet and looks down. To his shock, he recognizes the furry form sitting at his feet.

Canid looks at the shocked face... "Writing my application now..." she says happily, "but I wanted to come to the party on time." She grins and looks at the dancers.

"I'd join them, but wolf-dancing tends to cover a lot more ground in a short peri-" Canid stops as she sees Prospero trotting enthusiastically onto the dance floor. "You'll see."

Prospero begins to dance in a strange semi-graceful and very bouncy manner. In a matter of seconds he has collided with nearly every person on the dance floor and is unknowingly doing a backward gallop straight into Wyvern...

[Gyrfalcon]

Canid hears the soft swish of a tail and turns her head to see a large fox sitting calmly near Gyrfalcon. Gyrfalcon looks down at the fox and smiles, then enclines his head towards Canid.

 

"Canid, this is Daryl Carnsillion, who's currently electing to hold a fox form. He's a werefox but is normally friendly... just don't try to eat him, and he'll be good. Daryl, this is Canid, a wolf-magus who's going to be joining us soon... and she has quite a few wolf-friends, so try not to antagonize them, alright?"

 

Daryl looked up at Gyrfalcon and yipped once, then yipped a few times at Canid

 

(translation: "Okay, Gyr. *looks at Canid* Greetings to you... you have a lovely coat of fur.")

 

Gyrfalcon breaks out laughing as Prospero starts dancing, and Daryl grins hugely at the sight...

 

(OOC: Daryl currently looks like a somewhat larger then normal fox. He has black fur 'socks' and his breast and neck fur is white. The tips of his ears are also black, and the tip of his tail is white. Otherwise, he is a reddish-brown color (more on the red side).)

[Falcon2001]

*Cioden, William, Falcon all file in, looking rather pissed*

 

C: Great, now what are we going to do? The drummer got struck by lightning on the way here, and now we don't have one...

 

W: Shush, Cioden...Falcon, you got any ideas?

 

F: (looks at the disco ball in the center, entranced) Shiny!

 

W & C: Right.

 

W: So anyway, what are we going to do now...Wait a second!

 

C: The drum machine!

 

W: Yeah!

 

*Cioden pulls out the drum machine, hooks it up the amps that William sets up, and then almost reverently pulls out Lucas, his guitar*

 

C: sound check, one two...

 

*While Cioden is checking the mikes, William Azunost is walking around making last minute decisions, including handing Falcon his bass, at which point the normally insane mage become remarkably alert and aware*

 

F: Kay then, let's get rolling.

 

*Seeing that everything is okay, Cioden hits the footpedal for the drum set and starts playing. William grabs the mike and starts singing a really really old song*

 

Happy (belated) Birthday to you!

Happy (belated) Birthday to you!

Happy (belated) Birthday, dear Wyvern

(guitar solo)

Happy (belated) birthday to...you!

 

*They continue playing, taking requests*

[Guest Minta Rose]

Inside the disco ball (where the infinite shininess of the outside couldn't muddle her thinking), Rydia set up the silk pillows and soft blankets until she had a comfortable nest. Tzimfemme had installed one of the AoA Miniature Chocolate Mage Makers in the upper hemisphere, and Rydia removed a tray of fresh krispy-chocolate miniature Wyverns. For the special occasion, she took a brush and some fondue pots of melted chocolate to add accents: white chocolate mime paint and a dark chocolate jackhammer for Wyvern at Challenge X, peanut butter tax forms and zoo advertisements for Wyvern in the Recruiter's Office, Wyvern and a special edition caramel-filled miniature chocolate Cheyenne--this for Wyvern himself. As the song ended, she opened a little trapdoor in the disco ball and showered the special chocolates upon the party, waving and giggling happily.

[Ozymandias]

(OOC: Okay, I'm uncontrollably picturing wolfish slam dancing. Must...keep...straight...face...while...drinking...)

 

Next, in flies a keg of mammoth proportions being barely held above the floor by several teams of tiny, gasping Imps. They are shortly followed by Ozymandias, who strides in in a businesslike manner.

 

"tired," says an Imp.

 

"You don't need to breathe, eat or sleep," shoots back the Founder, conversationally. Eyeing the room critically, he points. "Put it over there, by that table." The Imps groan in unison and heave to.

 

Stepping forward purposefully until he is in the middle of the room (hurdling Prospero in the nick of time), Ozymandias stops and throws his arms out, stiff as boards. The 1812 Overture begins to play.

When the cannons come in he shouts, "BOOM!" and red, green, blue, white, and black fireworks fly from his outstretched fingers, pinwheeling out across the room, glittering and sparking. Ozymandias keeps this going through the entire song. Seeing Gyrfalcon raise an eyebrow at him the Founder mutters out of the side of his mouth, "I too, am about as arrythmic as a nervous cat's heartbeat."

 

(OOC Again: Almost forgot- Hi Canid!!! *waves*)

[The Big Pointy One]

Canid posted,

 

"Daryl, that would be Prospero, a good friend of mine." Canid explains as Daryl watches Prospero with amusement.

By this point the dance floor is clear for fear of being hit and Wyvern is nursing a bruise where Prospero flew into him.

"No harm in me dancing now..." says Canid. She trots up to the band and takes a few sheets of music from her invisible pack, handing them over.

The band begins to play some excitable Spanish-style music with a heavy beat and Canid enters the dance floor, faces Prospero and grins.

All four legs of both wolves move fluidly to the music and carry them accross the floor quickly. Canid, elegant as always manages to steer th somewhat less graceful Prospero around without further collisions, though the speed of their movement discourages other dancers.

As the song ends, the two wolves finish by doing a half flip in the air and managing to meet their hind paws to send each wolf in the opposite direction for the second half of their jump.

Canid moves quickly back to her spot and under her commanding gaze, Prospero follows suit and satisfies himself by finding a washroom for a canidae-quallity drink.

(OOC: sorry about the lack of humor... it's three AM but I wanted to describe a wolf-dance...)

Serious bit:

 

A wolf is to be admired, for it is a symbol of all that is good,

In this world you shall find none more loyal, kind and beautiful than a wolf, Be as the wolves!

 

 

Be not ashamed of your curiosity, only the lack there-of.

 

 

Silly bit:

 

Curiosity killed the cat.... well, technically I did, but the point is that the cats' curiosity got me a free meal.

 

 

Flipity-flopity bunny!

Flipity-flopity bunny!

Bunny is nice,

As nice as can be.

Chop him up and serve him for tea!

-a song from an English pantomime

The Big Pointy One posted,

 

Seeing all the people that have walked in an really got the party rolling, Stick decides to abandon the food table and start mingling with all the new guests. He walks by the door, nodding in greeting to Gyrfalcon and Daryl.

 

"Having fun, Gyr?"

 

Gyrfalcon nods back, "You know it. Yourself?"

 

"Heh, no doubt about it. Enjoy yourself!"

 

Stick wanders off, walking among the crowds again. He pats Black on the shoulder, waves to Canid as she returns from her drink, gets hit in the head with a Wyvern-shaped chocolate and waves to the disco ball from which it came, guessing he was being hailed in one manner or another. Seeing Ozymandias, he approaches the founder, extending his hand in greeting.

 

"Greetings, I don't believe we've really been properly introduced, as I'm sure you know, I'm Stick... heh, I'm not so great with the introductions, but it's nice to meet you. I hope your enjoying yourself here ^.^"

 

Ozymandias shakes Stick's hand, "Yes, I am enjoying myself here, thanks. And it's nice to meet you too, hopefully we'll be seeing more from you soon...?"

 

"I'm sure you will, anyways, I should really be seeing everyone else, but feel free to seek me out later."

 

Satisfied, Stick then moves on, greeting the rest of the party. He approaches Falcon, Cioden and William.

 

"Heya boys, how goes it?"

 

As they are currently singing and playing music, they respond by playing even louder, causing Stick to chuckle a bit.

 

"Heh, alright, sounds great! Maybe later I'll bring out my drumset and play a few with ya!"

 

Stick nods, then continues on, eyeing Zool. He extends his hand again.

 

"Nice to see you after a while... I apologize for not really getting off on the right foot back in the day..." Stick recalls a certain fan club incident. "Anyways, it's nice to see you here... oh yes, good luck on getting Mr.Bunny... you'll need it "

 

Stick waits for Zool to respond, then smiles, and finally makes his way over to Wyvern. He pats his friend on the back.

 

"Not a bad party, considering, don't you think? Granted, it's not as good as any party you've thrown, but not bad..."

 

OOC: Blech, I suck at representing other people...

[Guest Minta Rose]

"No, I can't go with you to the party," repeated Tzimfemme. "Orlan might be, how should I put this, mightily pissed if I refuse to be social with him, then show up with someone else."

 

Waterlily flailed emphatically, whippping one of its larger tentacles around, arcing it above its blossom, then pointing straight down into the void within the petals. Tzimfemme stood on tiptoe in the shallow water and peered inside. Deep within the flower was a crystalline lens, and beyond that, Tzimfemme could see Valdar in the other world. He was tangled between bowstave and string, with a spare bow cam dangling from the loose end of the string, which was snared behind his ear.

 

"Um, sorry, no. I'm not his type either. Not eared enough. Now if you'll kindly excuse me, I have floor plans to study. . .traps to bait. . .chocolate to repossess. . .mmm. . ."

[Ozymandias]

Later, Ozymandias finds himself swaying in tune to the music a bit . He doesn't recognize the style of music William and co. are playing one bit. He finds he doesn't care. Downing the last of the deep red liquid he was drinking (and was fairly sure was alcoholic), he set the cup down and approached Canid. Grinning wolfishly (deliberately) and bowing low, he asks, "May I have this dance?"

[Wyvern]

Black posted,

 

Black gave a bow BPO's way as they met and then found a spot to put the gift and card. After this was done...he decided to brave the dance floor...but first...chose the bar. Black walked up to the man behind the counter and asked for the strongest drink they had.

Wyvern00 posted,

 

As Stick gleefully pats Wyvern on the back and offers him a glass of punch, he notices that the overgrown lizard's eyes seem to be glued wide open in some kind of frightened gaze. Wyv's face has become a ghastly shade of white, and the almost dragon seems to be trembling slightly while gripping his limited edition Cheyenne miniature in one hand and a Wyvern-mime chocolate in the other.

 

"Wyvern...?" mutters Stick softly, tapping Wyvern on the shoulder and waving a hand in front of the lizard's rather pale visage.

 

Stick jumps back startled as Wyvern suddenly awakens, as if from a seven year coma.

 

" Aaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhh!!!" cry Wyvern and Stick simultaneously, the former from a sudden realization and the latter from shock. The combined screams of the two startle William Falconer in mid guitar riff, and the master musician hits a note that's so horribly off key it momentarily fills the room with a terrible distorted static. A troll attending the party lifts his hands to cover his ultra-sensitive ears from the racket and in the process knocks over Ozymandias' drink, which procedes to spill on Canid. The bartender fortunatly manages to keep the highly deadly bottle he is preparing for Black balanced before it topples over. On stage, William blushes and mutters something aplogeticaly, then resumes his excellent performance from where he left off...

 

"Wh-what's wrong...?" murmers a wide-eyed Stick, keeping a foot of distance between him and Wyvern in case of any more unpleasant surprises.

 

"I just realized!" exclaims Wyvern, slapping a fist down on his left hand "This is a party!"

 

Stick stares in disbelief, his jaw dropping open and his nerves slowly calming.

 

"Of course it's a party!" he responds "In fact, it's a birthday blowout in honor of a certain overgrown lizard..."

 

Wyvern pauses at the mentionings of 'birthday' and 'overgrown lizard'. He then glances slyly towards Stick and grins evily...

 

"Is there cake and highly expensive gifts?"

 

Stick thinks for a moment, then nods. No sooner has he given this sign of confirmation then Wyvern soars off like a comit to his gift pile, quickly pulling out a pair of spectacles and a economic computing calculator and beginning to calculate the approximate total value of the packages. Stick sighs and taps his foot, waiting for the overgrown lizard to finish...

 

Elsewhere...

 

At the bar table, Black ignores the violent arguments of what appears to be a nearby couple (but is actually Ozymandias and Canid) and gleefully ties the 'Anti-Acidic' bib he is given around his neck. The bar tender puts on safety goggles, then picks up a brown bottle with a pair of surgical tongs and pours some of it's contents into Black's glass. The greenish liquid bubbles for a moment, then goes still...

 

"I warn ya lil' buddy..." chuckles the bar tender while taking off his goggles and winking "... that stuff is really strong!"

 

Black grins and nods, licking his lips and lifting the glass of alcohol to his mouth... No sooner has he lifted the bottle halfway to his lips, however, then the liquid suddenly stirs and takes the form of a fist... Black raises an eyebrow curiously as the liquid procedes to rocket out of the glass and hit him directly in the face. The power of the blow is so great that Black is actually knocked straight out of his seat and flies directly into the center of the dance floor... The liquid then flexes and reverts back from its fist form to its normal, more innocent-looking still state...

 

Elsewhere...

 

Directly outside of the party, hidden in a black waste disposal bin and eyeing the entire scene by means of two peep holes and some handy "Tyco Super-Infared Binoculars" ™ , lies what appears to be a SWAT agent with a half-finished bannana squished in his head and a piece of old bubble gum stuck to his nose. The agent snickers to himself sinisterly as he spots target 'A1T-7oI2' (he loved big complicated code names), Wyvern, in the middle of the partying crowd... His has a momentary feeling of victory, which is short-lived as a party-goer absent mindedly tosses a live rattle snake into the trash disposal... Fortunatly for the SWAT agent, nobody overhears his screams and struggles as he rushes out of the bin... The dark and mysterious man then rapidly heads for the exit, wishing he could have stayed longer to gather more info and maybe even get a left over piece of cake... But it didn't matter, he had secured the pics of target 'A1T-7oI2'...

 

The boss would be pleased.

[Guest ArawnD]

Black posted,

 

When Black hit the dance floor, he fell unconscious for a few minutes and then awoke with a sudden THUMP...on his side. He slowly lifted his head in a daze and looked about the room. The room was spinning and moving out of control...when Black mumbled out a few words.

 

Black-"Did anyone get the number of that train that hit me?" The vampire looked about the floor to see confused faces and look that as a no.

 

Black-"Oh...wait...I remember now! It was the salad at the bar...no...that can't be right."

 

It was at this time that his sanity left him and his insanity came back (And I do mean that the way it was said). The people started to dance again as Black was getting to his feet...and as a result...Black was knocked back and forth while trying to get free. Finally getting free, the vampire floated into the air and got an angry look on his face.

 

Black-"No drink is too strong for me!"

 

Black floated back over to the bar and started toward the bottle once more. The bartender tried to stop him from doing such an insane act, but was pushed aside in trying. The bottle seemed to know what was coming and formed a fist once more. Black countered this by misting into a fist of his own...and then it began.

 

The people in the bar jumped for cover as the two fists took to battle. After a minute or two the liquid knocked Black to the floor and went in for the final blow. Black quickly changed to his normal self again (which was battered and bruised all over by now) and grabbed the bottle with a swift movement. The liquid, not being able to stop at this point, had gone back into the bottle and it was too late. With a gulp...Black drank down the bottle as fast as he could...but felt odd afterward.

 

OOC: This is fun

ArawnD posted,

 

"I heard it's best to be fashionably late, but does that apply to parties as well?" Arawn stands in the door way, wearing a long sleaved white shirt, and black pants, his hair pulled back into a ponytail giving a clear view of the blue gem in his forehead, and silver stud earring. " I didn't have an idea what to bring so I raided my treasure vaults for some prizes I've aquired." He steps to the side to reveal Ros dresses in a suit and tie, Janus in a red robe with golden symbols, and Ellen in a green dress matching her green hair, each carries a box. "Happy birthday!" they shout, then deposit the loot and hurry to the dance floor. Arawn walks over to the bar, "Can I have some juice?"

The Mad King

[Canid]

Canid shakes herself violently, splattering everyone nearby with alcoholic red liquid.

"I'm going to smell of wine for a month! I can't even lick this stuff off with all the toxins in it!"

She marches over to a table and begins rubbing herself off on a tablecloth. Ozimandias, having some respect for sanitation, moves over to stop her. The growling, spitting, bristling ball of fur that as a result begins to fly at him causes him to duck and thus smashes, in a fury of claws and teeth, straight into...

[Yui-chan]

... the cake, which, strangely enough, emits a squeal of surprise as it explodes, showering everyone nearby with a creamy confection of calories! Before she can do more than suck in a breath, the table beneath her groans and gives with a loud crack, throwing more food and sparkly wyvern-shaped confetti over the crowd. When the dust has settled, food is everywhere, Canid lays amid a huge pile of cake-and-frosting mush, and Ozymandias is glowering from under the (luckily strong) glass dome of the punch bowl that's upturned on his head. Oh, yes. It's a Wyvern party in the making.

 

Blinking and attempting to shake the sticky frosting from her fur (unsuccessfully), Canid wobbles on the wriggling surface of the remains of the second buffet table... then realizes that Buffet tables shouldn't wriggle.

 

" GET OFFA ME, YA OVERGROWN FURBALL!" The screech is accompanied by a shove that sends the wolf slip-sliding across the floor to collide with Wyvern's pile of presents. The almost-dragon looks up in surprise as the stack he was working on tallying crumbles, mixing with the stack of ones already counted.

 

"Argh! Now I'll have to start all over! Canid, what are-- !!!" At that moment, he chooses to raise his eyes from the sugar-coated mess of his friend, following the trail of fur-filled frosting to the hulking mass standing in the remains of his birthday cake. And his eyes round in horror.

 

There, amidst a food-strewn crowd of guests, his worst nightmare is huffing and puffing in an attempt to raise her bulk from the ground. Poor, hapless Wyvern happens to raise his eyes just in time to get a painfully-clear view of his gargantuan office assistant with her back to him and her thong-revealed gluteous maximus in the air. Try as he might, the birthday-wyvern can't draw breath as she stands and turns around, immodestly picking cake fragments out of her black leather thong-bikini.

 

Melba glowers, cursing Canid under her breath for ruining her surprise. If looks could kill... But then, she spots the bloodless form of her employer, and her pillowy face breaks into a huge smile. Oblivious of his obvious distress (or of the horrified shock of the other guests), the almost-secretary throws her arms wide and starts running (which can best be described as her normal waddle with a larger amplitude of fleshy vibrations being displayed in her massive girth) towards Wyvern.

 

In horror, he faints dead away, leaving Melba to stand there, blinking down at him. Frowning, she mutters to herself, "He must've been overcome by emotion... "

 

((MUHAHAHAHAAAAA! >;} ))

[Canid]

Prospero, licking toilet-water from his long muzzle opens the door of the washroom and is immediately trampled by six or so party-goers, desperate to use the facilities, who then begin to fight amongst each-other for the privilege to be the first to use the toilet.

Prospero writhes free of the brawl and comes back into the party, to see his dignified and elegant friend, standing amid knocked over presents looking completely shocked, covered in cake and smelling of red wine.

She does not notice him and merely mumbles... "Sorry..."

[Ozymandias]

Bowl rolling around sedately on the peak of his royal noggin, Ozymandias fumes his way out the door after helping Canid from the presents. "Well, I lost that bet," he grumbles as he makes his way out the front door. "I should've know better than to bet against violence erupting, but nooooo... Gyrfalcon'll be laughing like a hyena." Safely outside, the slightly inebriated mage begins to prepare a fireball spell to simply burn the whole soggy, sticky mess he's coated with clean off. Ozymandias concentrates, and-

 

FWOOM.

 

Melba spies a bright light outside the window at that moment and thunders her way over to inspect. She sees a figure wreathed in flames running around in circles, saying only, "AAAAA! AAAAAA! AAAAAA! AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!"

 

Screwing up her face in distaste, she turns to the straggling party members.

 

"I don't know who invited the fire elemental", says she, hotly, "but I know who'll end up cleaning the soot out of the ceiling! He is not coming in!"

[Guest Lord Seth Exodus]

The doors of the great hall open, pushing a cloud of fog higher into the air, blocking the face of the newcomer. The strobe lights glint off his glasses through the fog, the clack of a cane on the floor, and a cry of dismay gives away his identity. "Oh my, this just won't do!" A bewildered looking Seth Exodus stumbles across the room. “I’m late, so very late! Oh me, oh my!”

 

Seth had found an invitation laid half way up his tower stairway with a note: "Please get an elevator!" Dawning his best, which was basically what he already had on, he grabbed a gift he had been saving for just such an occasion. A book he had bought entitles "Geld and ten other things just as good" -which, incidentally, were: credit, credit, credit, credit, credit, credit, credit, credit, credit and free stuff.

 

Huffing into the room, gift under arm, he dashes right into the midst of the chaos. He was still slightly shaken from that encounter with the screaming fire-elemental in the hall. Advancing on the dance floor he is swept off his feet by a break dancing something-or-other, and gift, glasses, cane, and all fly into the air. Seth lands flat on his back, cushioned by a pile of cake. “Confound it!” Seth curses as he raises himself up again. He gathered up his things once more and limps off to where Wyvern sat mumbling to himself, bent over a calculator. “Happy birthday, Wyvern, this is for you,” Seth handed the book to the lizard.

“$ 5.35 I’d price it at,” he paused momentarily to glance at the title. “Ten things just as good, indeed,” he snorted and tossed it on the pile.

Seth, taken aback by the response to his gift made his way over to the bar; covering his ears as he passed the speakers. “Oh, how dreadful! Don’t they have any Mozart, or something?”

 

Seth stepped up to the bar, “Oh, barkeep, I’ll have a glass of Chardonnay, 1812, if you would.” The bartender gave a glare at Seth and poured a glass of the shimmering red wine.

“There you go, your Highness, your pretty little sissy drink, please enjoy!” The sarcasm was dripping from his voice.

“Well, I never, can you believe the gall of this cretin?” Seth turned, speaking to another by the bar. Turning, a small, red-nosed Dwarf eyed Seth.

“You speakin’ to me? Sissified wine drinker!”

“Now look here you ignorant little hole dweller, you needn’t be ru…” But before Seth could finish he was soaring high above the dance floor, with a rather bruised jaw. Seth landed hard on Wyvern’s pile of gifts, toppling and mixing them yet again. “Ouch!…I….wait,” he reached behind him and pulled a small gold statue of a Dominion from the small of his back. “Ah, that’s better, this should get at least a few hundred geld,” he said, passing it down to the now red-faced elder. “If you don’t mind, I’ll just stay up here, less hustle and bustle, you know.”