Whoops! Tis the season for forgeting names it seems.
Marcellinus must have been promoted since you wrote up his bio I guess. Must have missed that that post somewhere. grumle grumble.
And how could I have forgotten Cecilya? I'll add her to the list along with(another one believe it or not) our newest gal, Nina. I'm telling ya, they're taking over!
Sir Dillon wrote:Looks like I've got a lot of reading to do!
And Dillon, welcome back. Try to enjoy yourself a little ok.
There has been some great stuff lately.
EDIT:
Speaking of the season, which we were at the beginning, here's a little something I ripped off from Clement Clarke Moore.
Note: I'm not putting this in the RP thread because, while related, I'm not sure if it fits. Myself being especially wary of the flying ship, which are practically outlawed.
Anyway, here it is. An altered version of "The Night Before Christmas"
~
'Twas the night before Yuletide, when all through the land
Not a creature was stirring, not for but one man;
The workings he’d done and the food he’d prepared
He hoped would bring cheer to all those who despaired
The chilled-wren was nestled in snug near the breads,
With venison-sugar-plums placed on there heads
And jam in a 'kerchief, and pie in a wrap,
Had just settled down by some long ginger snaps,
When inside the ship there arose such a chatter,
It sprang from the dock with a shake and a clatter.
Away to the winds how it flew like a flash,
Born up on the shudders that blew through the hatch.
The moon on the breast of the new-fallen snow
Gave the luster of mid-day to objects below,
It, to any man’s wondering eyes would appear,
Like a miniature sleigh, without any reindeer,
And the little old driver, so lively and slick,
Knew just how the Apple-tart must needs be quick.
More rapid than eagles or horses he came,
And he whistled, and shouted, and called out the same;
"Now, dashin’! Now, dancin’! Now prancin’ an’ clickin’!
By comet! By orbit! On yonder, now kickin’!
Tae the top o’ the pourch! tae the top o’ the wall!
Now dash awa’! Dash awa’! Dash awa’ all!"
As dry leaves that before the wild hurricane fly,
When they meet with an obstacle, mount to the sky,
So up to the house-top his courses he flew,
With the ship full of food, and ol’ Taylor Road too.
And then, in a twinkling, he stopped on the roof
Then dancing and drawing up five sugar loaf.
He withdrew one more sack, and then turning around,
Down the chimney he went, without making a sound.
He was dressed all in fur, from his head to his foot,
And his clothes were all tarnished with ashes and soot;
A bundle of food he had slung in his sack,
And he looked like a peddler just opening his pack.
His eyes looked about him. The room was not merry.
The children lay sleeping, so frail it was scary.
Their poor little house did not stop the wind’s blow,
And their blankets so thin, were as useful as snow;
The stump of his pipe Taylor ground in his teeth,
For it’s smoke was alone in the fireplace beneath;
He took a broad pace toward the little girl, Nelly.
Then shook out and set down a bowl full of jelly.
“She’ll be chubby an’ plump.” Taylor said to himself,
And he laughed as he set some more food on a shelf;
But with one more pie a new thought touched his head,
And gave him to know there were more to be fed;
Like Wenceslas’ ghost, he went to his work,
And gave them all stockings; then turned with a jerk,
And leaving a fire inside as he rose,
Climbed out of the chimney and into the snows;
He sprang to his sleigh, with a gleam and a whistle,
And away the ship flew like the down of a thistle.
But the peddler exclaimed, ere he drove out of sight,
"Happy Yuletide tae all, and tae all a good-night."