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  • #1169

    Antarctic Ocean, International subwaters

    Good job my dear ones! “ the voice of the Baron was echoing strangely inside the metallic hull of the submarine.

    In front of the screen, Pavel, Claude and Jarvis were sipping vodka martinis in celebration of their new crystal skull acquisition.

    “It’s got a really extraordinary quality.” Jarvis answered after a moment of silence “I’ve been starting to study the skull and it’s taking some sort of aquamarine colour with the pressure variations, it’s impressive. And it seems we’re attracting an unusual amount of cetaceans in our trail too…”

    “Fascinating! I can’t wait for you to bring it to me”

    “Baron?”

    “What?”

    “What do we do with your old friend?”

    Phoebe?”

    “Yes. We made sure she was properly treated, as per your orders, and she’s got access to the bare minimum so that she doesn’t play any trick on us.”

    “Good. Well, I suppose you can release her on any friendly coast of your liking. She is greatly able to go on from there, though she will probably not like having been outwitted in stealing abilities… Whatever. Do as I said, and don’t get too mollified by her apparent frailty, she’s tougher than she seems.”

    “Okay. See you at the meeting point then.”

    #1168

    Military hospital, Scott Base, October 2008

    “It’s BLOODY freezing ‘ere!” a hirsute mop of hair was whining on a camp bed next to two others.

    “Would you just shut the flove up, Glo! You’ve been whining for ‘ours now! It’s not bloddy believable…”
    “Like Mavis says, Glo! We all got in that same bloddy boat ye know… It’s no bed of stinkin’ roses for us either!”

    A long sigh came from Glo, again interrupting the silence.

    “A bloddy pity, you have to admit; being a lady, with PMS for years… At least I could console meself I didn’t have to shave like a man for Pete’s sake! And now we’re over with bloddy PMS, we are as hairy as gorillas!”

    “Don’t be silly Glo, they said they’d find a cure… innit Sha? T’is not what they said? Vessie promised us!”
    “Yeah, just before that little trollop ran away with the others, leaving us in quarantine… Not even a consideration for our efforts to help her seduce the sexy guy …”
    “Ungrateful yeah… When we could have stolen the guy’s heart easily…”
    “Ahahaha, no blimin’ way! not with your new hairdo Sha dear… Ahahah, don’t mean to be rude!”
    “Hey girls, any idea where’s Askitoy?…”
    Akita ?”
    “Put him in confinement I reckon… The poor bloke was delirious, saying he was a WWII soldier…”
    “Good thing the bloddy honeycomb didn’t make us loose our sharp wits, eh!”

    #1167
    ÉricÉric
    Keymaster

      a hotel room in Auckland, New Zealand

      Veranassesee closed her report silently.

      What a mess it all had been. Given the circumstances, she had acted with unbelievable self-possessed strength and wit.
      She had little doubt she would be fired though. The Confregation wasn’t exactly known for their blanket acceptance of excuses for people’s short-failures —or worse, for their lack of accepting their own responsibility. Quite the contrary.
      She would be expected to resign, and even the smoldering hot and sexy Agent Gabriele’s intercession wouldn’t be seen with a complaisant eye.

      “No matter…” She had managed to keep everyone she could out of trouble or certain death, and for that she was quite proud of herself. Even if her job was most of the time to actually make sure they would meet their death more quickly. Perhaps she was getting too soft for that job.

      The phone rang abruptly cutting her off her trail of thoughts.

      “Yes?” (…) “Mmmhhh mmmh” (…) “Okay. Fine. Thank you.”

      She would be presenting her report’s conclusions at the hearing tomorrow, and then would be free to go. Start a new life maybe; or get back to Mahiliki who was for now confined with the aircraft’s pilot in one of the Confregation’s detention centers for interrogation. They’d say it wouldn’t be long; they wanted to make sure no crucial information had leaked.
      She couldn’t really pity Mahiliki; he was cute… harmless in many ways; she was sure he would be out in a matter of days,… and unsurprisingly get back to his peasant’s life on Fikitupi.

      As for herself… that may be a whole other story.

      #1159

      “You tempestuous fool” Becky cried and slapped Gayesh soundly across the face. “Don’t give me those unspoken looks!”

      Gayesh sighed. “Ah, the infinite pleasure I had in mind is naught but an elusive dream.”

      Elizabeth read the last two lines she’d been working on to her publisher, Godfrey Pig-Littleton.

      Godfrey snorted. “Elizabeth, really! You jest, I hope.”

      “Well, I was just trying to fit each of the four themes into one chapter, they all seemed to fit together so easily” Elizabeth replied. “Why not? Tempestuous, Elusive Dreams, Unspoken Looks, and Pleasure”

      “You seemed to have fit them all into two sentences, never mind a chapter. And your characters sound like characters in a play.”

      “Well they are characters in a play, Godfrey” replied Elizabeth.

      “Ham actors, that’s what I meant. Anyway, Liz” Pig-Littleton said with a slightly mischievous grin, “What if Gayesh doesn’t want his face slapped by Becky?”

      “What do you mean?”

      “What if Becky doesn’t want to slap Gayesh?”

      “Well, she will if I write it into the play, surely!” Elizabeth started to frown. She knew that once she invented her characters that they continued to exist in a reality of their own, being free to create their own realities in whatever probable dimension they found themselves in, but she had never really stopped to think about the ramifications of her continuing to write incidents into their lives.

      “Maybe Becky has moved on from where you left her last time you wrote about her, in a completely different direction” Godfrey continued “And maybe she doesn’t want to play along with your theme word game. I mean really, is it fair to make her? Maybe she was having more fun doing whatever it was she was doing while you weren’t even thinking about what she should do. Quite rude really to interrupt her just so that you could do your word theme games. Bit of a cheek, I’d say.”

      “Oh Godfrey, that’s easily explained” Elizabeth had remembered Probabilities, which was always a handy excuse in continuity disputes. “Another probable character will do what I write for them to do, there are probably hundreds of probable characters now, all going in different directions.”

      “Is that wise? Really Elizabeth, that sounds outrageously irresponsible. Hundreds of probable characters running amok, and you have absolutely no idea what they’re all getting up to.”

      “Well they’re not my responsibility Godfrey, for heavens sake!”

      “Well if they’re not your responsibility, then who’s responsible for them?”

      “Nobody is responsible for them!”

      “Well that sounds like a recipe for chaos if you ask me” Godfrey said with a sniff. “You’ve unleashed hundreds of probable Becky’s into reality, not to mention Leo’s and Bea’s….”

      “And Pig-Littleton’s” Elizabeth interjected under her breath.

      “… and Sanso’s and Dory’s” Godfrey, who hadn’t heard Elizabeth, continued to reel off the characters names. “I mean how big do you think reality is? The rate you’re filling it up with probable characters there’ll be no space left!”

      Elizabeth started to laugh. “Oh Godfrey, you’re a case. Ahahah! They don’t take up any space at all! Anyway, GodfreyElizabeth turned back to her notepad. “Listen to the latest chapter and tell me what you think:

      “You tempestuous fool” Becky cried and slapped Gayesh soundly across the face. “Don’t give me those unspoken looks!”

      Gayesh sighed. “Ah, the infinite pleasure I had in mind is naught but an elusive dream.”

      Godfrey Pig-Littleton was impressed. “Elizabeth, how perfectly you incorporated the four themes into one brilliantly short chapter”

      Elizabeth closed her notebook with a satisfied smile and yawned. Let them all do whatever the bloody hell they all want to, I’m off to bed. Plenty of probable characters available in the morning, waiting in the wings.

      #2029

      In reply to: Scrying the Word Cloud

      TracyTracy
      Participant

        A moment later she fell in the pool, slipping on some loose change. The part had been a free for all, and her host had alot to answer for. lots of drinks had been given to the grey goat and mavis didn’t give a shit. she meant during the days that followed to find salome, to be able to find some meaning to the story about leonora. It was a fine day for a plane ride she thought as she waited in line feeling excited until she noticed a red working lamp advertising love, but she never noticed how much easier it was during the news. The finn connection had her smiling as she thought to try creating calm and stay present and breathe as she looked around and noticed her arms were far from normal. suddenly shhe was walking away. the goat forgotten but wrick managed to save the library which was full of fresh air known only to sri who was to sort it all out although he laughed about the wood fire of the 19 planets and she was behind herself all the way

        (oops, said Bea, I forgot to indicate which of the words was from the word cloud and which were mine. Oh well, never mind….)

        #1158
        TracyTracy
        Participant

          Mademoiselle Mongoose was the Director of Public Relations at the Z.O.O. (short for Zoological Organization of Outcasts) which was no easy task. Her job entailed ensuring that the members remained Outcasts whilst endeavouring to foster an attitude of Acceptance from the general public. The dilemma was that oftentimes, once an Outcast was Accepted, he no longer qualified as an Outcast and according to the rules, was no longer eligible to remain at the Z.O.O.

          Mlle Mongoose couldn’t find the new Outcast anywhere. The enormous Anaconda, affectionately nicknamed Nana Croissant, was Absent Presumed Escaped Soft, which was one of Mlle Mongoose’s biggest headaches at the Z.O.O. There seemed to be a disproportionate number of A.P.E.S. at the Z.O.O.


          Mlle Mongoose sighed. If Nana Croissant couldn’t be located, Mlle Mongoose would have to report the disappearance to her superior, Sir Raphael Cabra-Chevre. Thankfully the Z.O.O. also had a disproportionately high population of R.A.B.B.I.T.S. (Rare Intermediate ‘Best Bait In Town’ Stars), to cover for the erratic and unpredictable behaviour of the A.P.E.S., ensuring that there was plenty going on for the General Public at all times. (It may be noted by the S.W.A.N.S. ~ Sumafi Workers Affiliated Normal Society ~ that R.I.B.B.I.T.S. would be more technically accurate, however they were generally accepted as R.A.B.B.I.T.S. to Those In The Show ~ otherwise known as T.I.T.S.)

          Mlle Mongoose decided to enlist the help of the C.A.M.E.L.S. (Central Agency for Missing, Escaped & Lost Softs) before alerting Sir Raphael Cabra-Chevre.

          The Case of The Disappearing Aardvark was another matter, though. Mlle Mongoose decided to call in the M.E.E.R.C.A.T.S. (Missing Entities & Essences Roll Call and Time Share)

          #1155

          Marvin Scrozzezi was thinking he should really start to find a more suitable title for the movie…

          Teri, one of the actresses he had in mind for the much desired role of Finnley, —in fact the actress, that he had almost wrote the part having her in mind— had refused to audition because of the script’s working title with that undignified ‘R—’ word (a hint to the reader, it’s not what you think)…

          He was thinking… French people had romantic and colourful ways of expressing the same thing… sweeping the chimney, leaking the leek… Argh… forget it…
          He wasn’t sure that “T’Eggy Finds a Big Butternut Squash” would be better either.

          He really sucked at finding titles.

          #1146

          “Oh My God” exclaimed Bea. “I had a dream about the DOOR!”

          “Oh, well done! The question is, did you remember it?” asked Leonora.

          “As a matter of fact, Leo, I did!” replied Bea with a happy smile. “As a matter of fact, although I’m not too sure how factual matter really is, but anyway, I did remember the dream, and I wrote it all down.”

          “Gosh, up early this morning, weren’t you?” asked Leo, who was sipping coffee at the kitchen table and watching the sun come up over the mountains through the open door.

          “Oh I didn’t write it down this morning, silly! I wrote it all down last week.”

          Leo placed her cup on the table and rubbed her eyes, frowning. “Wait a minute, let me get this straight…..”

          Bea laughed ~ she was in rather a jolly mood, despite the early hour. “I had the dream last week, Leo, but I only just realized this morning that the dream was about THE DOOR

          “So what did you learn about the door, then?”

          Bea frowned. “Well I’m not really sure. But it seemed so significant because it was that scary door, you know, the dreams I’ve been having for years about that door in that bedroom that’s too scary to get near, never mind go through….would you like to read it? Maybe you can interpret it for me.”

          “If I must” sighed Leonora “You better pour me another cup of coffee then and pass me those cigarettes.”

          Leonora read from Bea’s Dream Journal:

          I was sorting winter clothes out on an upstairs landing of a cottagey gabled house,
          and decided to use the upstairs bedroom instead of the downstairs one.
          The bedroom was a recurring dream one, gabled attic with dormer windows kind of room.
          Then I saw the door and remembered this was the door I was always too terrified
          in dreams to open; it was so scary that I always wanted to use this bedroom
          but never could because of that terrifying door and whatever lay beyond it.

          “Didn’t you do a waking dream and go through that door?” Leonora asked. “Oh, yes here is is…”

          Remembering that I had done a waking dream and gone beyond the door once,
          I marched up to the door, flung it open and strode through.
          Suddenly an almost overpowering fear and dread stopped me in my tracks
          but I carried on anyway.

          “Oh, bloody well done, Bea! Good for you, girl!” Leonora could be a bit waspish at times, but she was a kind old soul underneath.

           It was a bit like a old slightly shabby but once grand hotel foyer, high ceilings
          (not the same as when I went through in the waking dream, which was then rows
          of closed doors on either side).  The foyer opened out on the left into a large old
          fashioned restaurant dining room, with one person over on the far side sitting at
          a table.  I carried on straight ahead through opaque etched glass double doors
          onto an upstairs outdoor terrace.  There was a city scene below.  On the left
          was a shallow ornately shaped ornamental pool.

          “Reminds me a bit of our trip to Barcelona, this does, eh” Leo commented.

          “Yeah, I’m sure that had something to do with the gargoyle imagery” replied Bea.

          A woman squeezed past me holding a small thick book and I knew she was
          going to jump off the terrace which was several storeys up.  She collapsed into
          the pool, writhing backwards, baring a flat white breast and dropping the book.

          “Flat breast, hahah Bea, that weren’t you then, obviously, was it!”

          Bea chuckled. “Not bloody likely! I reckon that bit slipped in the dream because I can’t find a comfortable bra lately”

          “You and me both” replied Leo. She continued reading from the journal.

          I picked up the book, and somehow ended up with two books, which seemed like guide books. I couldn’t hold onto the two books with the creature in my hand, which was weird, like a very heavy small furry grey reptile, or gargoyle.

          “Maybe it was a baby dragon?”

          “Don’t say that!” retorted Bea, who had a horror of dragons. “The thought did cross my mind too, though” she admitted.

          I was holding it with one hand round its middle and the fat grey belly of it
          was bulging out under my fingers.  It was unbelievably heavy for such a small creature
          and I didn't want to hold it, so I passed it to a boy. (Twice I was holding the creature,
          and twice I passed it to the boy, but I can't recall the other time)
          Back inside the building, I followed the boy down a big wide staircase that
          curved round to the right at a landing below.  I started to fall down the stairs and
          knew it was because of the book that I was holding that the woman had been holding
          when she collapsed into the pool, so I threw the book down the stairs to save myself,
          and felt the tumbling down from the books perspective, although I stayed in
          the same place, clutching the banister.

          “Well I am amazed that you remembered so much, Bea! Going through the doors and finding the books reminds me of Jane’s Library you know”. Leo was starting to go into an altered state.

          “Are you going into an altered state, Leo?” asked Bea. “Are you channeling Juani Ramirez again?”

          “The creature, the gargoyle, was representing ‘a different species of awareness, of consciousness’” continued Leonora, as Bea hastily started taking notes. Leo wouldn’t remember what she’d said while she was channeling Juani, so it was essential that Bea record what was said.

          “The weight was a marker to help you recall the creature, as well as being symbolic of denseness”

          Bea couldn’t help making a snirking noise. Dense eh, she said under her breath.

          “The door” continued Leonora “Is a signpost, a marker.”

          Just then the phone rang, snapping Leonora out of the trance. Bea picked up the telephone, but there was nobody there.

          “Pffft” said Bea.

          “More coffee?”

          #1136
          TracyTracy
          Participant

            The interior of the Fly-boat was a bit like a Tardis, in that it was very much bigger on the inside than it appeared from the outside, and quite a different shape, too. While the exterior of the fly-boat resembled a cross between a duck and a bee, the interior was circular. There was a high point in the centre of the ceiling, and richly embroidered tapestries draping down to the floor in sumptuous folds, looking for all the world like a yurt.

            Yukailli Airlines has a decidedly exotic and oriental air, Dory thought as she perused the in flight magazine, which was written in a charming but indecipherable script resembling the Voynich Papers.

            “This is your captain speaking” a disembodied voice boomed. “Welcome aboard! My name is Ignoratio Elenchi, and I trust that you will have a most enjoyable flight with Yukailli AirBoats. There will be no obligation to fasten your seatbelts and you may smoke all through the flight. Our cabin crew will be preparing Vedic Stew over an open fire in the central area of the craft at 11:11. For your in-flight entertainment, up on the open air flight deck there will be a continuous light show by Aurora Borealis. If you want us to stop the flyboat at any point to take snapshots” continued Ignoratio, “Please don’t hesitate to ask.”

            #1135

            — “Dory?”
            — “What, hon’?” a distracted Dory answered to young Becky
            — “You’d better remove the magnets from the iron, or you’ll ruin another one…”
            — “What are you talking about?!” Dory was perplexed, trying to find her way through the airport to Gate 57-¾, but only to find nothing but benches in between Gate 57 and 58.
            — “Oh, never mind… It’s only a dream and you probably won’t remember it anyway.”

            “There!” the suspicious bag lady of the Heathrow terminal had reappeared briefly just for Dory to spot her entering the restrooms.
            Becky was already rolling the heavy bumper-stickers patched suitcase to follow her without question.

            — “But why are you taking the suitcase to go to the bathroom, Beck’?”
            — “What are you talking about Dory!” Becky was sometimes losing patience. “Can’t you see it’s the entrance for Gate 57-¾?!”
            — “Uh?” A moment of clueless mystery on Dory’s face. “Oh…” Another mini-black hole on her face.

            “Oh. Okay then. Let’s go…”

            If there was something that her exotic life had taught Dory, it was to never question the moment. If the circumstances are here, if the impulse is there, then go for it. Explanations will follow. And in case they don’t, make them up as you roll and rock!

            Becky meanwhile was rather surprised at how people, even her own step-mother, as tuned in ghostly stuff as she was, most of the time failed to see the things for what they really are. And if these big painted letters on the door “GATE 57 ¾” weren’t obvious enough, and people preferred to interpret them as restrooms, then… what else could be done? She sighed.
            Later on, she would learn that it was a common, well documented trait in human consciousness; that people were sometimes psychologically (but not physically) blind to stuff outside of their current focus of attention, or simply blind to things too far off their beliefs; in other terms, it was a matter of energy reconfiguration. As long as it worked…

            “Oh look at that… Yukailli Airlines counter is here! What bloody stupid idea to put a closet door at the entrance…”

            After having made the departure arrangements at the counter, Dory came back to Becky who was looking outside at the planes.

            — “Ain’t them beautiful?”
            — “Yeah, and I suppose you’re seeing planes, aren’t you?”
            — “Err, yes of course, what else, silly… Though now you ask me, they seem a bit weird… foggy or something”.

            In fact, what Becky was seeing wasn’t conventional planes. It was more like “fly-boats”. Some sorts of hybrid ships made to fly with huge wings transparent and shiny like those of flies.

            — “I hope they have crunchy coleslaw for meal, I’m starving” a contented and tired Dory said, when she collapsed into the comfortable seats.

            #1134

            Georges and Salome’s journal

            From Salome’s account of her introduction to the Turmak People (Part 1)

            Georges being involved more and more within the Quorum of Jokans, it has enabled me, if only by proxy, to get more acquainted with the personality of each of them.
            The Guardians are an ancient and very distinctive race which is, in many aspects, surprisingly similar to our Dream Walkers. One of these points of similarity is their aptitude at morphing their environment, and altering much of the physical properties of it within their dimension of operation.
            I suspect that, similarly to our Dream Walkers being responsible for the creation of physical focus as we currently experiment it in our Earth dimension, they are also for a great part responsible for the creation of many a species in the neighbouring noospheres —note that I shall occasionally use “Noosphere” as a word more apt to convey certain notions rather than the word “planet” which is loaded with certain beliefs.

            I will not enter into the social details of the race of the Guardians in this note, as it would be too long for this place, and Georges will probably explain it in more details later.
            However, I shall use this as an opportunity to introduce a character who soon became a close ally in our explorations of this universe.
            As a matter of fact, I came as a surprise to both of us when she started to pierce through Georges disguise, flawless as it may have been. We found out that they shared a connection which probably was the cause for their allowance of connection through the veils of their disguises in time and space.
            A rather elegant member of the Quorum of Twelve, Cil —as she is named, pronounced See’l — intuitively found out that we were not really who we claimed to be, especially that we were not from her known universe at all. But what could have been a difficult situation turned out for the best, as she was equally eager to discover about us, as we were about her people and universe.

            The recent reports of uprisings of the Zentauras was the matter which was seriously discussed, and it was decided as a favour from Noraam to Cil to allow her to go for an investigation on the Murtuane, to find out the reasons for this matter, if not the culprits among their kin.
            Needless to say that I was very much enthusiastic at the idea of having a guide to explain me more on the relationships at play…

            (Part 2)

            #1128

            When Balbina woke up from that which had been her longest and strangest projection out of her body ever, all the memories of this fantastic adventure were oddly still fresh and crystal clear in her mind.

            She doubted that it may have been as real as she has perceived it to be; but the funny rabbit, before they all entered the long dark tunnel, had winked at her and told her there would be signs for her.

            Outside the window, the sunlight was starting to show on the Cordillera de la Costa, the nearby mountains.
            She was feeling strangely rejuvenated by this unexpected night spent in far-away travels, and it was almost as if her whole body was feeling better than it ever was.
            But of course, it was more of the same. Fabella, the nurse would soon enter and great her with a…

            “Did Madam sleep well?”
            “Quite, yes”… Her voice was quivering. Hardly the youthful voice she had during her projections out of the body.

            So, there she was again, in that old people house, and no way out of this mis…

            “What?!” she made the nurse busy cleaning her instruments repeat —to which she was far too pleased to comply.
            “Yes, Madam, your son phoned this morning and told he would come for you…”

            Her son? That was most unexpected.

            What did the rabbit said already? Help would come from the most unexpected corners… Well, she had almost forgotten that this corner still existed!

            “Did he say something else?”
            “Oh, I’m not really allowed to tell, M’am…”
            “But of course, you can’t really resist (little goose)” simpered the old wincing lady in a whisper to herself.
            Fabella was indeed continuing, unstoppable “… but he seems to consider it’s too expensive to have you here, and would love to have you home with him”

            Well, of course, you can’t really expect him to be so generous for no reason Balbina was thinking… But anything would probably be better than this old fools’ home. Even her son’s home.

            Besides, it was located outside Caracas, near the mountains… And if the funny rabbit’s directions were correct, it was very, very close from where her hosts (provided they existed of course) were to re-emerge.

            She’d never imagined that falling into the abyss of sweet madness would be so exciting.

            #1121
            TracyTracy
            Participant

              George laughed pleasantly and said, But of course, I understand! Just be remembering, he added with a twinkle, that I am always available. And I have the ‘whole book’ in my carpet bag.

              “The Whole Book in his bag, eh” said Becky, thinking that it sounded very meaningful and profound, although she couldn’t quite put her finger on it. Well, it was late.

              #1114

              Inside the cave, the presence of Leormn, though not completely gone, had diminished strongly. Most of the creatures inside the cave were thriving on his presence and his continuous reshaping of the corridors or the chambers. His presence was fading out gradually, and some of the more sensitive creatures were beginning to feel a discomfort, a kind of emptiness or a sensation of cold.

              Malvina was not alarmed yet, it was a good thing he had allowed himself that little escapade. In a subtle way, he was reconciling some aspects of himself that he had been unaware of yet, and it was also a surprise to Malvina that the gates would reopen in that particular time frame, to the long lost sister of the Duane. Her awareness of what her dragon was doing was dim, and it had been so since the door had shut after the passage of Arona. This young girl had more than one trick up her mouldy cloak, and though she was unaware of most of them, she had an innate sense of using them wittingly.

              Malvina smiled at the thought that she was quite similar to the girl when she was young… a long time ago.

              But for now, she had other processes to set in motion. She focused on herself and adjusted her energy to match the signature of her friends Georges and Salome. It didn’t took long. Their presence was quite strong. As they were busy at the moment, she decided to go for a walk and meet them on her way.

              :fleuron:

              Georges and Salome were in the pool chamber that Leormn had kindly created for them inside the cave. It was continuously provided in hot water by a spring located on the ceiling and several families of glukenitch had furnished the place with the perfect amount of light…

              Georges was following her progression from a ledge made of a rock similar to granite. He’d always been fascinated by her way of expressing her grace and technical mastery in any domain. When they had met, she couldn’t swim… and she wouldn’t. It’d been years later, when she had got rid of her wariness of water that she had considered the idea.
              Now she was as comfortable inside and outside water, as well as in many different environments.

              Being continuously connected, their energy field mingled in such an intimate way, he could easily turn his attention on her physical sensations; all the tiniest movements of the water upon her skin and also all of the adjustments she was making to her body inside and outside to improve the efficiency of her movements.

              He dived off his observation point to play with her.
              Alerted by his movement, she went deeper into the pool. He knew that she hadn’t modified her body to the point of incorporating gills, because it was usually difficult for her to get rid of them afterward. She had a soft spot for apnea, though and she was quite able of staying under water for lengthy amount of time.

              Still focused on his swimming, he began to redirect certain aspects of his body consciousness. Some were unnecessary for his purpose, so he got rid of them; and he needed to give some other qualities to his skin. It took him a few seconds to shape-shift and he focused on his new physical senses to indicate him where she was.

              When she realized what Georges was doing, she resisted the impulse to go to the surface.
              What is he up to? she thought. When he’s in the process of shape-shifting his attention is so oriented inside that I can’t usually get any impression about his new shape, but

              A flash of light illuminated the water around him, and the rhythm of the blinking cells of his new skin was creating a time related pattern with an hypnotic effect. Salome was feeling drowsy and she had to maintain her attention on herself or she’d better get back to the surface soon. If she wanted to play with him now, she would have to change form too.

              #1110

              Elizabeth Tattler giggled to herself as she recalled her escapades of the night before. Why, it was years since she had been out dancing, and let alone in foom! Surprisingly it had been Finnley’s idea. A bit of a dark horse really that Finnley. Apparently she went to the foom parties regularly, on the pretext of dancing, but in reality to save on her laundry costs.

              Oh what a gloorious feeling! The techtonook music blaring, stroobe lights flashing, wet bubbly foom up to her neck. It wasn’t long before she had cast all her inhibitions aside, along with her cloothing, and was mooving and grooving along with the best of them.

              Who said dirty dancing couldn’t be good clean fun?

              Even Finnley’s rather disparaging sideways glances had not been able to diminish her exooberant joy.

              Elizabeth wondered what Lemone’s “Words of Comfort for the Descending” quotation was for that day. His words were always so appropriate it was almost eerie.

              When it’s too elaborate, it’s too weirdo, and when it’s pure delirium, it’s increasingly rubbish

              Well, perhaps the connection was not straight away obvious, but the sheer genius of the man’s mind never failed to render Elizabeth almost speechless with admiration.

              #1107
              TracyTracy
              Participant

                “Watermelon produces an effect similar to that of Viagra, researchers say. A slice of juicy watermelon contains citrulline that can trigger the production of a substance that relaxes the body’s blood vessels. A similar effect is produced when a man takes a Viagra pill.”

                “Well, that might explain a few things” thought Becky.

                “However, the vegetable is not so organ-specific as Viagra…..”

                “Hmm, I wonder if that would explain the butler’s preposterous breasts ?”

                #1097
                Jib
                Participant

                  Lady Theresa was aghast, she had always thought Finnley was a man, and his rudeness was excusable… but now…

                  #1089
                  TracyTracy
                  Participant

                    “Damn it, where’s Phlynn!” Finnley muttered under his breath. “Plan 57 isn’t bloody working! We won’t be able to lure Sir Coon into the library now with the promise of a little clandestine titilation, we will have to use force. But I can’t do it alone! Where is PHLYNN?!”

                    #1088
                    TracyTracy
                    Participant

                      “That sinister Finnley had plans to do away with Sir Hector, in the library, before dinner.”

                      “Perhaps I should amend that entry”, Becky mused.

                      “What’s that you said, Sugar Plum?” asked Gayesh, nuzzling her ear.

                      “Oh bugger off, Gayesh, can’t you see I’m busy?” Becky snapped, moving her chair away from the amourous doctor. “I have to attend to this before it all gets changed. Now shut up and back off.”

                      The unflappable Gayesh smiled, and poured the powdery contents of a vial into her drink, and waited.

                      #1087
                      TracyTracy
                      Participant

                        Phlynn was late. “You just can’t get the staff these days” grumbled T’Eggy. Where was the dratted man? All she wanted was a quick leg-over before dinner, and now that Hector wasn’t coming after all, she could have spent more time with Phlynn.

                        Unbeknownst to T’Eggy, Phylnn was in the stables, struggling into his pistachio green jewel studded sari. He was late for the rendezvous in the library, and in his haste to don the disguise of a sultry voluptuous sultana, the endless yards of fabric wrapped around his long legs in a hopeless tangle.

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