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The Portrait of Zool

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Big Jesus

 

*Jesus wants to reply, but doens't want to bother to read the post. So he assumes that the topic of discussion is mice.*

 

You guys don't know what you're talking about. If you don't cut a mouse's inscisors, they will continue to grow until they tear through the upper jaw and into its brain. So your statement is just stupid. You know absolutely NOTHING about mice. Furthermore, mice are MAMMALS and not echonoderms, contrary to popular belief.

 

 

 

I think I've made my point, whatever it is.

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Tiberius10

 

And yet another mage bursts through the door, exhausted from his relentless run through the woods in his attempt to get to the banquet hall on time.

"Oh damn, wrong place. Sorry to interrupt, continue with whatever you're doing"

 

Then, confused greatly, he departs.

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Poetic Heretic

 

The Poet, dazed and confused, chases The One That Cannot Spell Assassin. Grabbing a chair, he crashes it on the back of Nisassa.

"Nanotoknonnen can take this chair and shove it up his ass!"

 

Now on a role, hew notices Jesus reading a current Life Science grade-school book. Quickly sharpening his pencil, The Poet creeps up behind Jesus. Right before your lord and savior is gone again(for another 2000 years) a little squirrel-rat jumps into the air.

 

The Poet, in a frantic run, jumps out a bar window and proceeds to follow the confused Tiberius.

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The Grim Squeaker

 

Zool sits alone at a table, nursing his partially disintegrated foot back to wholeness. Magi nearby retch at the smell.

So absolutely pleased with himself that his archnemesis has been dispatched he's completely blocked out the pain, Zool waves cheerfully at them. He hums a merry tune as he concentrates, carefully casting healing spell after healing spell (hey, Ol' Peculiar related injuries DO require a lot of work). And completely misses nearly half of the hall patrons fleeing en masse. And almost misses that foreboding, bleak, *final* feeling that has casually oozed its way into his happy little world. Almost. Slowly, Zool stops casting healing, and as nonchalantly as possible, begins casting wards and protections as he turns around to meet the creepy, crawling, slimy feeling of eyes on the back of his neck. He turns, and his hair visibly turns white.

The gaze of the assembled individuals in front of him hits him in such a wave, he is nearly knocked from his chair. Standing before him are a tall, thin being in a black robe, holding a scythe in one hand. At its left hip is a sword that emanates almost as much black menace as the prospect of Jar-Jar Binks in another Star Wars movie (in short, *almost* as much as its owner). To its right is a man who is almost cherub faced in his greco-roman beauty, wearing a white toga and sandals. He scowls at Zool. The last is the strangest by far. It's an attractive young woman in a blue 'Sunday best' dress. She has brown hair, pale, pearly white skin, a look of satisfaction on her face, and a fireplace poker in her hand. A very, very bent poker. Oh yes, and a platoon of the strangest assortment of creatures Zool has ever seen behind her. Vampires, bipedal four foot bears with enormous fangs, massive tentacled things...

 

The greco-roman leans over, resting an arm on the tabletop. "Hi. I suppose some introductions are in order. I'm Bilious. The Stand-in God. I'm currently standing in for the Great God Ohm, in case you're wondering. He smiles. Somehow, it doesn't comfort Zool. "This lovely young lady is... a close friend of mine, Susan" He points to the being in black. "This is her uncle. I'm sure you know his work. And those,"he says waving vaguely at the drooling, leering, snarling, hissing creatures, "are some civic-minded souls Susan, *ahem* ,convinced to come along." Zool sits stock still, a tiny corner of his mind wondering vaguely if he should try and increase his protections at the risk of detection. Or perhaps a VE, wish, or one man Armageddon. An even tinier corner wonders even more vaguely, suddenly, did he leave the oven on again? The rest sticks with what it has become quite content with during this whole exchange-

"..."

Bilious continues. "As to why we're here, we're all three very good friends of the Death of Rats. We're very close, by degrees. And we're not happy. No, he's not dead, you can't kill what was never alive. But he's hurt very badly. And we can't find him. We're here because my friends here want very much to... to...express their displeasure, but they gave me one chance to talk to you, and see if we couldn't settle this quietly." Looking back at them, Bilious tuns back around and leans over to whisper in Zool's ear. "Here's a tip-think this over very, very, very, very, VERY carefully."

 

An hourglass appears in fron of Death. Its sands begin to flow downward.

 

YOU HAVE THAT LONG.

 

 

Next episode-

Things get messy.

 

And if there's anything left, the Don expresses his displeasure in detail.

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Zool

 

*Announcer* "Things are looking dark for our hero. Will he escape...?"

Zool took another look at the hour-glass, saw the last few grains ready to fall, and realized that for a full day his mind had been caught up in thinking of a revolutionary new way to keep track of time. Where does the time go, he wondered...

The assembled force was now half asleep. Bilious was layed out on the bar snorring outright. Susan had one foot in a bucket of water and was alternately sticking her tongue in a light socket and giggling. Death was playing his 666th game of solitaire. There was a long line of drooling fanged beasts at the restroom.

"before my time runs out, er, I need to make a quick call." Zool said quietly, as he slipped into the mirrorbooth. After making a couple of quick calls (deposit mana here) and a quick change of clothes, Out jumped...

SuperZool! His flowing cape and baggy black leotards (trimmed in red) with the stylized 'Z' emblazoned across the chest exciting symbols of freedom and liberty for... Zool!

SuperZool raised his twiggy arms into the air, and said in a powerful; echoing voice, "By the power of Numbskull, I HAVE THE POWER!" Lightning flashed, thunder crashed, roosters crowed. SuperZool was transformed into...

SuperSuperZool!! SuperSuperZool stepped out from behind the cloud of smoke that appeared, coughing. Recovering his composure, he straightened his 'Black Lightning' mask ™, pushed a button on his 'Zoolbelt', and levitated to the center of the BH. Drawing his 'lightning Sabre', He held it high in the air, drawing the mana in around him, and speaking the holy words in an even more powerful, echoing voice, "IckyickyYowzoixzovch!!" The earth trembled, the BH was rocked to (Actually from) it's foundations, the wind howled, a brilliant light infused the local area, storm clouds formed a funnel around the BH, The spirits Groaned. There was a brilliant flash, and SuperSuperZool became...

SuperSuperSuperZool!!! He was now an ethereal, brilliant silvery being of elemental power. His face filled the BH, a commanding presence of age, wisdom, and cosmic halitosis.

"LET'S RUMBLE". His breath filled the BH in a rush, causing Bilious and half of his party to puke like a water fall, and killing some outright.

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Nisassa

 

After stuttering his way through a Regeneration spell, Nisassa picks himslef up and looks at the thing that once was Zool.

Nisassa recalls how he once destroyed a B.H. and how the moderators and mods to be were forced to rebuild it. Being a mod to be, Nisassa figures that he has no real wish to have to help reconstruct a B.H. He also remembers what Joat did to him after he destroyed the B.H.

 

Picking up his Anti-Spam Carp, Nisassa casts Flight. Floating up behind the thing that once was Zool, Nisassa hits him with the Anti-Spam Carp. Immediately, all power infused into the thing that once was Zool was absorbed into the Carp and Zool dropped lke a stone back onto the B.H. floor. Nisassa then uses the energy of the Carp to quicly repair any damage done to the B.H. by Zool.

 

Nisassa to proceeds to stare and gape at Susan... He seems to be mouthing the words black lacy dress complete with hood. Drool slowly puddles at Nisassa's feet.

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Zool

 

"Okay, Squeaker! Let's finish this."

Zool slips out of character and into something more comfortable. Over his black leather breastplate is a rather stretched out black tee-shirt with a life-size picture of The Grim Squeaker, with his name underneath in large white letters. "Like it? -DEADMAGE- is selling them over in A2 BH. They're real cheap too! You know, I'm your biggest fan." grin:

"Slapped with an 'anti-spam carp'. Wow. OK, so I equated A gang of supernatural and/or ornery thugs with powering up my single character, uh, a few times. I mean, what's a little wish fulfillment one way or another? Let's see what our distinguished panel of judges think."

Zool waves his hand to a group of mages sitting around a table to the left. "Let me introduce Wit, Imagination, originality, consistancy, and scope, the five (Of course there is five!) categories of role-play posting!" A round of applause rises from the crowd in the BH. As each mage was named he had raised his hand in turn so they could be recognised. Zool speaks the next line very quickly. "OK, each mage will judge the category for which he is named and each has a scorecard for a total of fifty points possible."

"First we are going to judge the overall posting in the thread. Judges post your scores for The Grim Squeaker and company!"

The score cards were lifted up.

"9, 9, 8, 9, 9, for a total of 44 points!

Another round of applause filled the BH.

"Judges, post your scores for Zool!"

"9, 9, 9, 9, 9, for a total of 45 points! That's a close one. Zool, er, I had better watch out!"

Another round of applause filled the BH.

"OK, Judges, post your score for Zool's last RP post!"

"6, 8, 2, 5, 5, for a total of 26 points. Ouch. Pretty low on the originality, but a high score for imaginative use of unoriginal material!"

Another round of applause filled the BH.

"Judges, post your score for The Grim Squeaker and company's last RP post!"

"1, 1, 0, 1, 1, for a total of 4 points! Oooooohhhhhh! You LOSE! Well, it was fun while it lasted, but some people have to learn the hard way."

"She blinded Me With Science" swelled from the orchestra as Zool stepped up to the top step and put his hand on his heart, saluting his flag, a red banner with a pile of Red Dragon dung in the center.

A tear falls from his eye.

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The Grim Squeaker

 

One moment Bilious, Death, and Susan all are there, and then they're not. The assembled creatures let out a simultaneous breath (well, those that breathe do).

"*WHEW*." And all seeming very relieved, check around them warily, then head for the bar.

Suddenly, it begins to snow in the hall. Not snowflakes, no(except to those who've been fighting in Terra a little *too* long), but sheets of paper. Thousands of them, all papyrus. The first one to touch down lands on Zool's head. He pulls it off and reads:

 

___________________________________________

 

Well, that's what I get for mounting an offensive without enough rest. We must rematch someday. In the meantime, go see OneMeanElf. Tell her you've got my 100% endorsement. We could use someone like you in the family. She'll tell you what to do.

 

Sincerely,

 

The Death of Rats

The Great Squeaker

Priest to the left side of the priest to the left side of the priest to the left side of the great God and Pharaoh Nanotoknonnen

Treant Hill Mob, App

____________________________________________

 

 

Nisassa has one somehow wedge itself in his ear. Extracting and unfolding it, he sees:

____________________________________________

 

Niss, thanks for the assist. Stick with me. We'll go places.

 

Your ally in Left Hand might,

 

The Grim Squeaker

____________________________________________

 

 

Archmage Arawn plucks one from his shoulder.

 

________________________________________

 

Arawn,

 

I'll remember that tiger bit.

 

Yours truly,

 

The Great Squeaker

The Grim Squeaker

The Death of Rats

You know the Rest

_____________________________________________

 

 

The rest read either-

 

____________________________________________

 

 

 

C O N V E R T

 

 

 

____________________________________________

 

or

 

____________________________________________

 

 

 

 

R E P E N T

 

___________________________________________

 

As mages, wenches, bouncers, and whatever gaze upwards in curiousity, an excited chatter begins to rise, steadily increasing to a roar of applause-a very small black-robed figure, with skinless tail, fleshless muzzle, and little bony feet (*winkwink*) is slowly drifting down to the floor, using one of the last propaganda sheets as a parachute. Seeing Zool gaping in ...some emotion...he salutes him, lets go of the sheet, and falls straight down, passing through the floor. Walking over to that one sheet of papyrus, Zool picks it up and reads, written in black crayon:

 

__________________________________________

 

 

 

Nice t-shirt. Look out behind you.

 

T.G.S.

 

_________________________________________

 

Too late, Zool sees Nisassa's eyes glaze over again, and turns just in time to catch a rather crooked fireplace poker upside the head. Skull ringing, Zool folds like a house cards. The prim brunette leans over him.

 

NOW WE'RE EVEN. And she isn't there anymore.

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Arawn

 

After reading the parchment it explodes into flame. Arawn dusts the ash from his finger and robes Wow, a rat is coming to get you. "A dead rat. A dead, religious rat to be exact. Yes, I'm really shaking in my my boots. I don't mind the threats, but I do hate litter-bugs." Arawn waves his hand and the door to the hall opens. Another motion of his hand and a wind sweeps the paper out the door. Once the floor is clear the door closes. "That's better."

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Arawn

 

BURN. As soon as the word is uttered a fire ignites the papers and the floor becomes a mini-inferno. As quickly as it started does it end leaving the floor covered in ash and skeletons from squirrels. That was uncalled for. "Was it?" Arawn starts to chant and another wind comes, but this time the doors do not open. Slowly a small hurricane sweeps through the room picking up all the ashes and bone. Soon the floors are once more clean. The hurrican remains, a dark twister, due to the ash. Arawn gestures at Ozymandias, and the black wind funnel moves in his direction. At the last second it stops cold showering Ozymandias with it's load,"I do hate litter-bugs" That is all Arawn says then sits at a table against the wall.

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Ozymandias

 

Ozymandias stands quietly for a moment, dripping, covered in detritus. He then sheds all offending matter as if a highly accelerated cleaning process just happened in the space of a second. Reaching into his robes, he retrieves a gleaming object, and in a blur of motion flings it at the Mad King. Equal parts incredulous and curious, Arawn watches with interest. It spins at him with the frenzy of a well-aimed shuriken, until it begins to close the last ten feet, at which point it slows to lazy, sweeping circles as it traces its casual path towards the offending mage. Abruptly, it speeds up again, and impacts on the mage's chest with an anticlimactic *thump*. Looking down in bemusement as it plops into his lap, Arawn sees a small drinking flask. Ozymandias moves, and is in front of him. He gives the man a manic grin. "We're all mad here. I'm mad, you're mad." With another quick smirk, Ozymandias moves again, and is gone. Uncorking the flask, on closer inspection, it appears to be full of blackberry brandy.

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Deirdre

 

Deirdre stomps into the BH.

"Now who was that idiot who mentioned my name?"

She fumes, and slowly, she changes into a seductive woman wearing a pair of steel claws and a see-through robe.

Deirdre walks up to Zool, who's too busy conversing with some other mages to notice her presence.

She grins and rips the steel claws through his shirt,tearing away some of his skin, exposing his raw flesh and bones.

Zool stares at Deirdre in shock as she starts licking his blood off from her steel claws.

"Mmmmm.....it tastes so sweet."

Deirdre giggles and whispers to him: "Can I have more, please?"

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Racouol

 

Racouol walks into the Banquet hall. He saw Zool and ran towards him with a frying pan in hand. Clang. Zool is sent flying into the wall. Racouol then notices a lovely lady glaring at him. She was armed with steel claws, and was licking the blood off them. "Did I interrupt something?" Racouol then pulls out anouther frying pan to defend himself in case this gal tried attacking him.

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The Grim Squeaker

 

There is a tugging around the ankle region of Deidre's robe. Looking down, snarling, her face quickly relaxes.

SQUEAK.

 

It's that familiar little black robed ambulatory bunch of rodent bones...

It passes up a Post-it to her.

 

____________________________________________

 

Um, that was me. Not the smoking man there. Sorry.

 

Sincerely,

 

The Death of Rats

The Great Squeaker

Priest to the left side of the priest to the left side of the priest to the left side of the great God and Pharaoh Nanotoknonnen

Treant Hill Mob, App

_______________________________________

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Deirdre

 

Deirdre glares at Grim Speaker and then at Zool and decides that both of them would make great victims.

"What a perfect couple," she hisses.

Deirdre smirks at Racouol and warns him: "Stay out of the way before I decide to taste your blood."

She grins and produces a leather whip and brings it down with a "crack" sound on poor Zool.

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Racouol

 

Racouol steps away from Deirdre. "Don't worry I won't get in your way." He then quickly walks to a table next to a corner and seats himself so his back is facing the wall. He then placed his frying pans on the table ready to use them in case anything comes flying his way. Now it was time to watch the fun begin.

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Deirdre

 

Deirdre grins at Zool and smiles seductively at him, as the whip cracks down on him once again, taking pleasure as he suffers in tormented pain.

She smiles at Zool, and starts licking the blood flowing down his body.

"Mmmm.......it tastes so sweet, so delicious."

She mutters as Zool cringes.

"Don't worry, let me heal your wounds."

Deirdre whispers into his ear and chants a healing spell.

Slowly, Zool's wounds heal up and as everyone sighs in relief, Deirdre whispers: "Not so soon."

She brings up the whip and cracks it down on the poor man, laughing maniacally as he howls in pain.

"Scream, my dear,scream for me. I love to hear your screams of suffering," as she threw her head back and laughed at his helplessness.

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Zool

 

OOC: This just won't do. Zool comes back from the weekend to find this thread is not quite complete.

 

Zool wonders where this person came from. She really seemed to enjoy other peoples pain. "Ooowww!!!", screamed Zool as she raked his flesh again. Deirdre giggled maniacly.

Gathering the last of his strength, Zool cast "Whatever you do to me is twice on you". With an emotional glint in her eye, Deirdre raked her claw over Zool again. "Aaaaaaauugghh!! Deirdre screamed, as bloody gashes are opened on her back. Deirdre drops her whip. Furious she savagely rakes at Zool again, Arches her back at the torment she is causing herself, chokes on her own scream from the pain, and then, grins widely. Panting, she desperately tries to reach the blood pouring from her wounds. She finally gets on her knees and licks up her own blood from the ground, such is her need for the blood of pain.

Meanwhile, Zool has crawled away and healed himself.

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The Grim Squeaker

 

SQUEAK.

Some frenetic scribbling with a black crayon later, Deirdre is handed another Post-it note.

____________________________________________

 

Uh-uh, sweetie. Tu es loco en cabeza. Can't let you touch him. That's a friend of mine.

 

Yours Truly,

 

 

The Death of Rats

The Great Squeaker

Priest to the left side of the priest to the left side of the priest to the left side of the great God and Pharaoh Nanotoknonnen

Treant Hill Mob, App

____________________________________________

 

The Squeaker makes a slicing gesture at her, and a shaft of radiant sunlight streams in through a long unrepaired hole in the ceiling, engulfing Deirdre, Zool, and himself.

 

Scribblescribblescribble.

 

_____________________________________________

 

Just cause I study Nether doesn't mean I'm a one-trick pony.

 

Sincerely,

 

The Grim Squeaker

 

 

_____________________________________________

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