Guest Minta Rose Posted January 6, 2002 Report Share Posted January 6, 2002 Sated, Rosemary drifted out of the bar and into the halls of the Pen. Something was puckering the spiraling locally, and it drew her. She'd shucked her body away from her soul in the bar, letting it drop to the floor in a crashing jangle of silver jewelry, clinging to the spiderwebbed connections between souls to pull herself free. Now she floated invisible to the normal world, pale pink with silver threads reaching towards all of the other souls in the building, and the odd bolt of black. The disturbance was a parchment on a desk in the Recruiter's Office. She could barely pick out the words, and couldn't make sense of the first two lines, so gave up and stretched out one of her soul-tendrils to the parchment. . .A black tendril whipped around and fastened itself, and Rosemary saw the abyss, the spiral emptied and running down, little more than a hoop. Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Tralla Posted January 6, 2002 Report Share Posted January 6, 2002 * A relatively ordinary looking girl enters, casting about unobtrusively for the application desk. Spotting what she's looking for through a concealing screen of scraggly, mousy brown hair, she scurries over and places a small sheet of paper on the smooth wooden writing surface. Scribbling something swiftly in a small, neat script, the girl leaves her application in plain view and quickly exits the building. The slip of paper reads as follows: * I would like to join. Although I am perhaps more quiet than some, I am very active and willing to read, write, and contribute as much as possible. I submit a new poem for my application, for my stories are generally not in the "short" category and my rp'ing leaves much to be desired. Sincerely, Tralla "No Regrets" I was an almost happy child With almost tranquil teens I was an almost successful adult With many almost dreams I was an almost noted athlete With an almost remembered end I was an almost social person With many almost friends I almost had a spouse, to come home to every night I almost had a family, to bring meaning to my life I almost found religion, to fill my empty heart But in the end I found I’d made Far too many almosts from the start. Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Gyrfalcon Posted January 6, 2002 Report Share Posted January 6, 2002 *Gyr applauds* Very nice poetry. =) Welcome, and good luck on your application. =) Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Wyvern Posted January 7, 2002 Report Share Posted January 7, 2002 Around the outskirts of the Pen... Wyvern has been tied to a wooden pole underneath which there is a great deal of highly flammable firewood... Surrounding him are numerous angry and fearfull looking humans dressed in black, one of which appears to be a preacher of sorts. From his position above the ground, the Elder of Initiates sweats nervously as he tries to scheme a way out of the mess he had currently gotten himself into. How was he supposed to know that the travelers that had been passing through these parts recently were actually devoted witch hunters from Salem, who wouldn't appreciate his forms of trickery...? Wyvern gulps as he watches the preacher of the group light a torch and hold it near to the firewood. As the preacher begins reciting crypitic verses from a little black book he's carrying, Wyvern decides that perhaps this would be a good time to try to talk his way out of this situation... "Hey guys..." starts Wyvern sheepishly "... sorry about ripping you all off like that. But you know... that doesn't nescessarily make me a witch..." "... and let thy soul repent up to the light..." continues the preacher. "I mean honestly... if I was a witch, would I read beautifull poetry like this?" Wyvern wips out Tralla's application. "... while the spirits of darkness burn forever more in hell..." "Just listen to this... can you really call this witch material?" Wyvern begins reading Tralla's poem: "I was an almost happy child With almost tranquil teens I was an almost successful adult With many almost dreams..." By sheer coincidence, at that very moment, a gigantic black void opens in the air and the soul of Rosemary tumbles out of the abyss, momentarily visable to all, though somewhat transparent. The preacher's jaw drops open in fear as he stares up at the void... he drops his book and torch. "A SPELL!!!" one of the witch hunters cries. "Run for your lives!!!" another calls out. The opening of the void causes a disturbance in the atmosphere, and the pole to which Wyvern is tied tumbles to the ground. The far end of the pole lands directly on the preacher's head, and the poor witch hunter is embedded 5 feet into the ground... The rest of the witch hunters flee as fast as they can... Grinning to himself while untying his bonds, Wyvern decides to accept the application that had somehow miraculously managed to save his life... OOC: A very good poem Tralla, one of the most interesting I've read recently. Certainly an accepted application. You are hereby an initiate of the Pen. Welcome! [image]http://www.legion-whiterose.com/signatures/aoa/wyv.gif[/image] ------------------------------ Almost a Dragon... "My life is one big crime, I try to scheme through it." -Common, "The 6th Sense" Owner of the Decanter of Endless Booze. Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Tralla Posted January 8, 2002 Report Share Posted January 8, 2002 *indulges in a brief crazy happy dance before reverting to her normal, nondescript self with a happy grin* =D Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Guest Minta Rose Posted January 8, 2002 Report Share Posted January 8, 2002 Rosemary faded invisible again with an inaudible sigh--appearing to several physically-bound was almost enough to drag her back to her physical shell. The humans had scattered when she'd merely bared to them her compassionate soul, and not a hint of the demons who hounded her for it. And they termed *her* mad. Perhaps they couldn't help having their actions governed by her, but-- This wasn't the Pen office, or anywhere else she knew. She threw a fearful glance over her shoulder to see the void snap shut behind her and immediately snapped her head forward, fleeing at the speed of thought, throwing her mind inside Wyvern's to keep from naming the void, for that would surely bring it screaming back to her as it had before and taken her to a place she'd never known-- To know too much too soon to be to intertwine the two to see to speak what's true to pinion me She threw lacings of rhyme over the idea to obscure it and repeated it without pause, mindlessly pursuing the newly-forged connection to Tralla and praying it led her back to the familiar lands of the Pen. Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Guest Balladore Posted January 8, 2002 Report Share Posted January 8, 2002 Well done, Tralla! Glad to have you here! (I told you you'd pass with flying colors [or something close to it!]) Once again, Welcome to the Pen! Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Peredhil Posted January 8, 2002 Report Share Posted January 8, 2002 A whisper trails through her mind... Don't forget to email me for the Critic's Corner password... The Mighty Pen in the subject line... and please include your screen name here (Tralla) so I may update my Lists... -Peredhil ( peredhil31@hotmail.com ) Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Lady Celes Crusader Posted January 9, 2002 Report Share Posted January 9, 2002 OOC: TRALLAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!! You've finally made your way here Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Guest GrandMaster Zifnab Posted March 10, 2002 Report Share Posted March 10, 2002 *A dusty old mage enters the room,hidden by the total coverage of a mouse colored hooded robes.After about five steps the cloaked form drops to one knee and dips his head close to the floor.Several sharp intakes of air can be heard as the mage sniffs the ground...searching....tracking.....hunting.* "AhhhChoo!! Cripes........" *After quickly shaking his head to avoid drawing in any more grime the figure rises to full height.* "Ooohh,my back......." *Looking around the room the mage walks toward the small crowd. Coming to a stop at the nearest person the mysterious form grabs Lady Celes Crusader by the sleave and leans down to sniff her hand.* "Hhmm...er.......*Sniff*....eeemmm....nope!" *The mage drops the ladies hand and moves to the next figure,Tralla. Lightly pulling her hair towards his face,he takes in the pleasant aroma of the young girls shampoo.* "BINGO!! Tralla my dear............... have you seen my glasses?" Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
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