Another creative game

Woman Destroyed Over Poetry Banning!

It has been reported that a lady known only as Scheherazade, sometimes passing under the alias of Scherlock, was seized by a mob of somewhat, shall we say, "less than pleased" persons after she issued an edict forbidding poetry on this thread. Poets, who are in general considered to have their thoughts somewhat grounded in other worlds than this, were displeased by the edict and swore to "Tar and feather the heretic, and ride her on a rail outa here!" It is not known exactly what lead to the fatality, the coronor's statement of "She laughed herself to death over the whole bloody business!", is of course, to be taken with a grain of salt. Pendragon, one of the poets, when questioned, swore he had nothing to do with it at all but that he would have written a nice parting sonnet if not for the ban. Scheherazade is rumored to be deathless, so she will probably walk again when the moon is full. ;)

Other Realm Post Reports!

Mysterious Affair at Dragonland

One of the leading dragons of Dragonland, Pendragon, will be found dead in the early hours of Tuesday morning. The cause of his death will be impossible to determine by doctors and leading wizards. It will be rumoured that Pendragon has been haunted by the spirit of recently passed away Scheherazade, whose death was brought about by a group of Literature Network members who insisted in writing their obituaries in poetry form and was led by no other than Pendragon himself.

It will also be reported that Pendragon, expecting such an end for himself, has had a chance to bid adieu to his beloved ones.


;)

Once I was walking home after a long day at work, I stoped by the see side contemplating the sight. Suddengly I saw an empty bottle floating. I walked in the water and took it. There was something special about the bottle that caught my attention. It was like any bottle and a special one at the same time. Once home, I opened the bottle to see what is inside. To my amazment, it was empty. I laughed and told myself, "Don't be ridiculous."
"Who said that you are?" A voice from behind replayed.
Frightned, I turned slowly. There stood, floating in the air, the soul of Scheherazade.
"W,ww wha, what are you?" I stumred.
"You poet, commited the most offendingd crime of your life. You kill people and enjoy torturing others. You write poetry pretending to enjoy people but it's for the purpose of killing them. You are damned for all time evil. Now you're going to die, die, die, die ..."
The word was repeated in my ears many times like a refrain. Die, die, die, die.
"Wake up, wake up!" I herd. It was a voice familiar to me. It was Pen. "It's over; let's go."
In fact, I was in a burial seremony of our friend Sheherazade and as I was tired I fell in sleep. My soul still could not recover the lost of her. May she rest in peace! She was killed by a lory. It went too fast in front of her that she got frightned and died at once.
:lol:

And as I slept, I dreamed a dream. And behold, I stood within a vast wasteland. Coming towards me was a friend I reconized well enough, Adil Youssef. But how changed! He was but a specter of the man I had known! Hollow, flaming eyes stared at me. "Adil, mon ami! What has happened? You look like a ghost!" He laughed, a bitter, cold cackle. "Have you seen yourself, Pendragon, my friend? We are both ghosts!" Just then the sky filled with the laughter of the specter of Scheherazade. "You prophesied that I would walk again, Pen!. Behold, my revenge on your poets!" And I awoke, and behold, it was a.....dream? Adil? Oh no!!

And death shall have no dominion.
Dead men naked they shall be one
With the man in the wind and the west moon;
When their bones are picked clean and the clean bones gone,
They shall have stars at elbow and foot;
Though they go mad they shall be sane,
Though they sink through the sea they shall rise again;
Though lovers be lost love shall not;
And death shall have no dominion.

And death shall have no dominion.
Under the windings of the sea
They lying long shall not die windily;
Twisting on racks when sinews give way,
Strapped to a wheel, yet they shall not break;
Faith in their hands shall snap in two,
And the unicorn evils run them through;
Split all ends up they shan't crack;
And death shall have no dominion.

And death shall have no dominion.
No more may gulls cry at their ears
Or waves break loud on the seashores;
Where blew a flower may a flower no more
Lift its head to the blows of the rain;
Though they be mad and dead as nails,
Heads of the characters hammer through daisies;
Break in the sun till the sun breaks down,
And death shall have no dominion.



On the other hand, perhaps death had a little dominion over Pendragon.

Talsin's Funeral Chant

He staggered down the dusty road,
In a blinding, pouring rain.
Straw covered his cloths, on his shoulder a crow,
Singing "If I Only Had A Brain!"
Talsin was this Crow Boy called
But what has taken place?
With every step he takes, the crow it caws,
A stricken look is on his face.
Is he as looney as a moon-calf?
Has Talsin lost his marbles for all time?
Much more I fear, we don't know the half
His parting from this world is nigh.
He dared to make a merry jest on dragons don't you understand?
He who dares to cross a dragon finds a dragon would make a better friend...

Pendragon

Unfortunately, the dragon Pendragon only remembered to drive one Taliesin mad, while one of the other Taliesins who had stayed sane and used the knowledge his black feathery friend had whispered to him - that Pendragon had a unprotected spot under his chest - and killed him with a special returning black arrow one of his ancestors had bought from EBay.
Pendragon will be missed by some other dragons who were close to him.
(other people rejoiced and fought about the hoard, but that is not so important)

There he was sitting, from there he used to look at me. That's the memory I have of him. Turning his head from side to side, proud, calm and confident. No, he is not there anymore. Time, oh time, you are going too fast. Age, oh age, we are getting old. Talieslin, oh God, he is gone. Messanger from the West Pole he was and down in earth buried now he is. Dead yes dead and how! That what the raven wispred to me last night. He dreamed of being a raven and wanted to fly but forgot that he had not wings. From the highst skies he was falling down. About to crach he woke up but it was late.
It's so strange that in a way people dream of what might happen to them in their sleeps. Taliesin was sleeping on a tree and fell on his knee. dear Taliesin passed away.

Adil was a good friend and a good man, but sadly he is now a past tense. This came about in the oddest and yet most natural of ways.
Adil as we all know was a young man given to dressing up as Gandalf. Now while this is ok on the whole the bad thing about this is that white while normally a good color tends to attract dirt and blackness very easilly.
So adil was walking down the stree one day minding his own buisness when suddenly a roving ball of a black hole gathered it self out of the nothingness and hit him, or rather swallowed him. So now he is stuck in it and w can only refer to him as a was. but
you never know black holes are uncharted terrtories he might emerge victorous yet :D

Woman Goes Missing While On Holiday In France!

Dateline: Paris: The Prefect of Police reported today that a young woman, who had introduced herself to several people only as "Nightshade", disappered from the Louvre today. It was quite startling to say the least. She was touring the famous Portrait Gallery and had stopped before the Mona Lisa. A fellow tourist pointed out that there was more than a little resemblence between the young woman's smile and that of the famous portrait. There was a humm, as of giant electrial motors, then a brilliant flash of light. When everyone could see again, the young woman had vanished without a trace, almost as if she had teleported into time...

:eek2: found out! Now I have to go back to being called Mona, and worse live in the whatever it was centurey:bawling: :lol:
On the plus side I am the most famous painting ever, I must rememeber to tip that painter fellow .:brow:

_______________________________________

Writer found Dead!

Renouned writer PenDragon was found dead at his computer this morning. No on knows how it happned. He seems to have just passed away with a cup of tea by his side as he was viewing The Literature network forum site.
On a side note his computer has been inmfected with a seemingly delusinal virus called JonathanBlade, that does not appear to dammage the harddrive so much as open documents and start typing:
I am Pen! I am! this new computer sucked me in! The Shadow Knows! Help me!

When asked computer experts could not find an origin for his virus and do not know how far it has spread. They are howevr working double time to find a way of exterminating it.

:D

Today, I spent the whole day home. As I had nothing to do, I decided to brose the net. When enjoying reading some posts in the literature forum, something strange happened. From time to time, an avatar came into sight and disapeared. I told myself, that might be something new added to the forum. But the strangeness was that the avi. appeared more frequently so that I could at the end distinguish it clearly. It was a picture of Monalisa. Monalisa? Who has that avatar? Then the avi., which, as I assume, was sad, tried to talk to me. I could not understand and at the end I hear the name of Night. Night? Oh my God, Nightshde! How could it be? I stood there gazing in amazement not knowing what happened exactly. In fact, Night, who liked that avi. a lot, was captured by its malific force and imprisoned there for life. Oh dear Night! She will be missed for sure. And now Mona reapeared and took the place of Nightshade. :confused:

It was a cold December day when i decided to go take advantage of the pause in the snow to go get some groceries for dinner.
As i crossed the streed i saw an old man siting on the bench near the park.
I came closer and asked if he was ok since it was really cold outside, definitely not a day to be out.
He looked at me and smiled. oh i'm A ok my friend but for you kindness sit and i shall tell you a little story.. come now sit, he pointed at the space next to his right.
Since i was not in a hurry and i could not allow myself to refuse such a nice man i sat next to him.
Long time ago he began... and then he started telling my on an old prince from Persia and how he help an Angel fallen from the sky.
He told me about Dragons and Princess, Knights and kings, it was like a whirlpool and i was getting sucked in, deep into the realms of imagination.
suddenly i woke up as a piece of snow hit my eye, i looked at my body all covered in snow and quickly got up shaking myselfto get some warm blood and to get snow off of me.
A seconed later i remembered the old man and all he told me.Swiftly I turned around and saw him.
He Sat still and his face was blue, all he did was sit there covered in snow with his eyes closed and a smile on his face.

It was a very bright morning, and a tree had just had it's first thought of the day, something along the lines of, "oh my god, there's another ruddy bird's nest..." at the sametime, down the lane there was rather a comotion, as all animals and (girls) fled, for down came a man, humming a friendly tune, and accompanied by a chorus of canadian forest watchers. The great willow listened with only half an ear while trying to establish an efficient way of removing the bird and it's pungent droppings. it was only then that he could distinguish the words, "I'm a lumberjack, and i'm okay, i sleep all night, and i work all day", but it was to late to save the weeping willow, for it was felled to it's death, bird and all.

News, I like news. Sitting on my chair reading a newspaper from dreamland, my attention was caught by a headline intitled "Tragedy in Dreamland." A tragedy in dreamland? "Yes it is a tragedy endeed" a voice said from behind. I turned to see my interlocuter but there was no one there. I told myself, maybe I'm daydreaming. "No, you ain't" came the voice again. "Who are you?" I screamed with terror. "Me? the question is who was I? Now I don't know who I'm or what I'm. A voice maybe or a dream of what I should be. Can you answer me?" Amazed I said, "but how could I?" But the voice was so familiar that I was not frightned anymore. Then it added "look there, look there." There in the miror was Omer, weeping willow, imprisoned. Oh my God, that was the tragedy.