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  • #6773
    ÉricÉric
    Keymaster

      While Liz’ was playing possum at the mere mention of her mother, Godfrey was burying himself more deeply in the exploration of Liz’ old writing.

      Remembering his role as her publisher did something to him. Somehow, even peanuts didn’t capture his interest as much nowadays, but the exploration of the stories themselves had put a literal spell on him.

      He was for one, marveling at Liz’ capability to jump straight into writing, and especially her early works were quite difficult to understand because of that free-flowing ability, unencumbered by such worries as continuity or even characters consistency. While his own interest was more about providing a finished product, somehow the works of Elizabeth Tattler had defeated every attempts at that.

      What I need is a map… He’d thought. To be able to contextualize a random quote from any of her opus, give it a sense of direction. If we assume the reader is carried into a journey, writing that same journey would require a map of sorts. But the writing are as much about revealing the map, some parts hidden by the relief or terrain, as they are about providing a direction…

      That’s when he looked at his phone messages. 357 unread. Liz’ had been playing with images rerolls in this new app. He sighed looking at the last image. An unexplainable creature and a jelly bean cart in an odd landscape.

      There was no map big enough to contain her genius creativity he reckoned. There was some relief in that too.

      #6770

      In reply to: The Stories So Near

      ÉricÉric
      Keymaster

        What satisfying conclusion to this saga?

        Granola was the tying material to their friend, and her pop-in nascent capabilities (ability to project into material matter, sometimes being corporeal) could help. Her goal was to wake her friends out of their routines, and reinvigorate the stories they tell themselves about their lives.

        • Maeve was the one making custom dolls.
        • Shawn Paul her handsome bearded bachelor next door was an aspiring writer looking for a story to tell and to become published.
        • Lucinda is their neighbour, enrolled in creative writing courses.
        • Jerk is a clerk at a local WholeDay*Mart and also manages a forum in his spare time.

         

        • Uncle Fergus is Maeve’s father’s estranged brother.

        The dolls were found in all across places, used by different groups, maybe glamour bombs for some, maybe ways to smuggle information and keys.

        Across their trips they connect with story characters, and unknowingly revive their stories.

        POP*IN THREAD (plot development suggestions, to be looked into later)

        Maeve and Shawn-Paul are still in Tikfijikoo, investigating the mysterious dolls and their connection to Uncle Fergus. They’ve also encountered strange happenings, including a missing girl and a strange man in a top hat.

        Meanwhile, Jerk is still moderating the forum and dealing with the strange messages. Lucinda is continuing her creative writing course and enjoying her time with Fabio.

        Granola is currently on a mission to find Ailill and learn more about pop-ins, while also trying to reconnect with her friends and figure out what’s going on with the dolls.

        As for the mysterious man following Maeve, his intentions are still unclear, but it seems he has some connection to Uncle Fergus and the dolls. The group is still trying to uncover the truth and figure out their next steps.

        :fleuron:

        In the end, Granola’s pop-in abilities proved to be the key to unlocking the mystery of the dolls and their connection to Uncle Fergus. With her help, Maeve and Shawn-Paul were able to uncover the truth about the dolls and their purpose, and use them to reconnect with various story characters across their trips.

        Through their adventures, they also discovered the power of storytelling and the importance of shaking up their routines to keep their lives interesting and full of wonder. Jerk found a new sense of purpose in managing the forum and connecting with others through his passion for the dolls and their stories.

        In the final chapter, Uncle Fergus reconciled with Maeve’s father and shared the true meaning behind the dolls and their connection to their family history.

        While Shawn-Paul’s path led him to become a successful author, Lucinda’s path took a different turn. She found fulfillment in her creative writing course and continued to hone her skills, but she didn’t pursue a career as a writer. Instead, she used her passion for storytelling to help others, working as a therapist and using storytelling techniques to help her clients work through their struggles and find healing. Lucinda’s work was deeply rewarding, and she felt fulfilled in being able to help others in such a meaningful way.

        As for Granola, she continued to pop-in and out of their lives, using her abilities to bring joy and excitement to their everyday routines, and keeping their stories alive for years to come. The group remained close friends, bonded by their shared experiences and love of storytelling.

        #6720
        ÉricÉric
        Keymaster

          “It’s amazing, all the material we gathered over the years, it makes one’s head spin…” Godfrey was poring over quantities of papers, mostly early drafts stuck haphazardly in a pile of donations boxes that Elizabeth had generously contributed to the National Library’s archives of great works and renowned authors, but mostly as way of spring cleaning.

          He had materialized some of the links from the pages with webs of purple yarn tied to the wall of the dining hall. It had soon become a tangled mess of interwoven threads that he had to protect from the cleaning frenzied assaults of energetic feather duster of Finnley.

          She’d softened her stance a little when she’s realised how often her namesake has popped in the various storylines, almost making her emotional about Liz’ incorporating her in her works of fictions —only to remember that most of the time, she’d been the working hand behind the continuity, the Finnleys appearances being an offshoot of this endeavour.

          Godfrey had almost forgotten he was actually a publisher to start with, before he became more of a useful side-kick, if not a useful idiot.

          The phone rang in the empty hall. Soon after, Finnley arrived with the heavy bakelite telephone, handing it over to Godfrey unceremoniously. “You might want to take this, it’s Felicity…” she mouthed the last word like it was the name of the Devil himself.

          “Dear Flove protect us, don’t tell me Liz’ mother is in town…”

          “Well, at least she has comic relief value” snorted Finnley on her way back to her duties.

          #6709
          ÉricÉric
          Keymaster

            Storylines

            You may have noticed it – the little purple tags next to your comments are linking them to particular storylines.

            It should help reconnect comments spread across threads, when they belong to a particular storyline. The definition of those is rather fluid, but in general, it tends to revolve about a commonality of protagonist or group of protagonists (they are easy to spot, they are the one(s) driving the storyline plot forward… :yahoo_thinking: ).

            Since the tagging is mostly manual, and there are quite a few homonymous characters, you may still find comments that shouldn’t belong in the storyline. It will take some time to clean. :sweep: :yahoo_hypnotized:

            Of course, some comments do belong to multiple storylines, particularly when there are some cross-overs (e.g. protagonists from the Pop*in story going to the Flying Fish Inn, and meeting Arona!) :kiwi:

            New feature: Complement Storylines

            This new feature is now available ; basically, it should allow you to continue (or insert) on a storyline, especially those long gone… For the storylines that already have their own distinct threads, you don’t need really the feature but you can also use it.

            How to do? :yahoo_idk:

            You can go to a storyline, let’s say… Dead Dick Tracy, Peaslander, etc. :bounce:

            If you find a particular storyline you like that is missing (I guess nobody regrets the Tw’Elves,… but who knows? :yahoo_heehee: )

            You normally will see a little link with the replies. COMPLEMENT. :yahoo_surprise:

            Let’s say you just want to continue the story. You go the last comment, and you click on the COMPLEMENT link of the last comment.

            Normally, if you got there, the hardest remains to do: write a comment. :mummy:
            If all goes well, it’ll be posted in the New found pages thread, a little bit like old time “Circle of Eights” single thread full of unrelated comments, but this time, each one will have a little purple “storyline” tag, that will make it available inside the storyline you selected…

            :cluebox:

            #6689
            Yurara FamelikiYurara Fameliki
            Participant

              This is a special thread.

              Although closed, it is open
              if you can find the door. 

              Although messy, it is full of connections
              if you peer through the weft, follow the right thread.

              #6635

              In reply to: Orbs of Madjourneys

              Xavier looked as discreetly as he could, and immediately after ducked behind Yasmin’s frail frame.

              “Oh, no…” he whined softly “it looks like Glimmer… you know the strange colourful game stalker.”

              Yasmin raised a perfectly trimmed eyebrow, looking still tired from her trip.

              “YOOHOOO!”

              “Oh no, as I feared…” Xavier said between his teeth, “I think she’s spotted us. What is she doing here, of all places?”

              He turned to Glimmer with a broad smile. “Hello dear! Fancy meeting you here! Are we still in the game?”

              Glimmer tittered, waving her perfumed feathered boa around, and slapping Yasmin in the face with it. “You’re so funny!” she turned to Yasmin “Oh hello, sweet pea, he IS funny, isn’t it!”

              She clumsily drew a high stool next to the table, knocking off a few knees in the process, and sat precariously on the edge of it.

              “Look, I found the Big Banana you know.”

              Yasmin couldn’t help but snort laugh a little. Zara drew an ear closer, while still listening distractedly to Youssef expounding on the P mode of his camera.

              “What?” it took Xavier a mere second to reconnect with his own discovery of the concrete sculpture… “You mean…?”

              “Yes, the Big Banana, there’s one here in this town you know.” She drew closer, pushing the empty pints of beer, one of which Youssef managed to catch before it fell. “… but there’s a more interesting thing happening in the game now. Haven’t you checked your messages?”

              Xavier looked at his message. It said 🔮[GROUP QUEST OPENED] click on the *Orb*

              He clicked, while all the others where perched over his shoulder, looking at his avatar on the screen.

              Suddenly all of them were transported in a new place that looked exactly like the Flying Fish Inn, while some instructions where scrolling on the screen of the game.

              #6634

              In reply to: Prompts of Madjourneys

              ÉricÉric
              Keymaster

                The next quest is going to be a group quest for Zara, Yasmin, Xavier and Youssef. It will require active support and close collaboration to focus on a single mystery at first not necessarily showing connection or interest to all members of the group, but completing it will show how all things are interconnected. It may start inside the game at the hidden library underground the Flying Fish Inn.

                Quirk offered for this: getting lost in the mines of creativity, and struggle to complete the chapters of the book of Story to a satisfactory conclusion.

                Quirk accepted.

                The group finds themselves in the hidden library underground the Flying Fish Inn, surrounded by books and manuscripts. They come across a particularly old and mysterious book titled “The Lost Pages of Creativity.” The book contains scattered chapters, each written by a different author, but the group soon realizes that they are all interconnected and must be completed in order to unlock the mystery of the book’s true purpose.

                Each chapter presents a different challenge related to creativity, ranging from writing a poem to creating a piece of art. The group must work together to solve each challenge, bringing their individual skills and perspectives to the table. As they complete each chapter, they will uncover clues that lead them deeper into the mystery.

                Their ultimate goal is to find the missing pages of the book, which are scattered throughout the inn and surrounding areas. They will need to use their problem-solving skills and work together to find and piece together the missing pages in the correct order to unlock the true purpose of the book.

                To begin, the group is given a clue to start their search for the first missing page: “In the quietest place, the loudest secrets are kept.” They must work together to decipher the clue and find the missing page. Once found, they must insert the corresponding tile into the game to progress to the next chapter. Proof of the insert should be provided in real life.

                Each of the four characters are provided with a personal clue:

                Zara: “Amidst the foliage and bark, A feather and a beak in the dark 🌳🍃🐦🕯️🌑”

                Yasmin: “In the depths of the ocean blue, A key lies waiting just for you 🌊🔑🧜‍♀️🐚🕰️”

                Xavier: “Seeking knowledge both new and old, Find the owl with eyes of gold 📚🦉💡🔍🕰️”

                Youssef: “Amongst the sands and rocky dunes, A lantern flickers, a key it looms 🏜️🪔🔍🔑🕯️”

                Each of these clues hints at a specific location or object that the character needs to find in order to progress in the game.

                #6616

                In reply to: Orbs of Madjourneys

                “Imagine that! a Big Banana…”

                After a brisk walk trying to catch up with his winged psittacine friend,  Xavier had stumbled on a large concrete sculpture painted bright yellow in the middle of a field.
                He’s read somewhere Australia was known for its fondness of “big things”, but he didn’t expect one here – it was quite fun.

                “I think you just made my day Pretty Girl” he said to the bird. “Not that I don’t like to venture more, but I get the feeling I have to come back.” He checked his phone, there were a few messages, including one from Youssef who’d found some surprisingly interesting stuff during his shopping visit.

                “We wouldn’t want to be caught off-guard by a bunyip, you know…” he said more to himself than to anyone in particular.

                “Suuuit yourself.” said the bright red parrot, “No need to fear bunyip. Just don’t follow Min min lights. And stay away from mines.” and it flew away in a different direction.

                #6613

                In reply to: Orbs of Madjourneys

                Despite the old man’s endless flow of words, Youssef couldn’t get him to explain what he meant about the abandoned mine and why the town’s people didn’t like people sneaking around and asking questions.

                Not wanting to waste more time, Youssef walked to the brick building where the twins had disappeared. It was crammed between the telegraph station and a grocery store. The door had been walled with red bricks. They were covered in faded graffitis and layers of torn-up posters. It seemed obvious the wall had been there for quite some time already.

                The old man was sticking to Youssef like glue, talking about that time when his now dead brother took in an old cat he called Phineas. Youssef tried to growl him away, but the man always came back, persistent as a cloud of mosquitoes over the promise of a blood feast.

                Youssef tried not to pay attention to him. What did AL said about that quest ? Go ask questions around to town’s people about odd things happening ? Well there were plenty of those things happening. Maybe the clerk at the telegraph station would know something, especially how to get rid of that old man.

                Youssef pushed the door and entered the telegraph station, leaving the old man outside. The interior was lit with a collection of old style tungsten lamps hanging in a random pattern from the ceiling. 

                The clerk was busy sorting out a pile of telegrams. Clickety-clack. Clickety-clack. He lifted his head up. The noise stopped and Youssef realised the young man had mechanical hands.

                “Welcome, welcome, welcome! What can I do for you today, my friend?” asked the clerk.

                “I just wanted to…” started Youssef.

                “Wait! Don’t tell me. I’m a bit of a psychic myself and I already know what you’re here for.”

                “Really?”

                The man foraged through his pile of telegram with his mechanical hands and picked one. He looked at it for a few seconds.

                “My friend, you’re in luck today!” he said, looking intently at Youssef. “I just received this telegram that I think might interest you. Here, take a look!”

                Youssef took the paper and started to read aloud : “Words spoken by the talkative will unlock the path. Seek those who chatter and unravel the clue. What the…?” 

                “Interesting, isn’t it? That’s a real head-scratcher, if you ask me!”

                The door bell rang and the old man entered, holding his sore ribs. 

                “Get out, Phineas. You’re not welcome here.” said the clerk with a frown.

                The old man looked at the clerk with an air of confusion before turning to Youssef. “What did he say? Who’s Phineas?” he asked.

                Ignoring the question, Youssef tried to steer the conversation back to the telegram. “What does this mean?” he asked the clerk.

                The clerk stroked his chin, looking thoughtful. “Hmm, well, it seems to me that you have a certain magnetism for talkative people. Perhaps that’s the key to unlocking this riddle.”

                Youssef’s eyes widened in surprise. “What do you mean, magnetism?”

                The old man interjected, “For sure! You’re like a magnet, my boy. I can’t seem to stop talking when I’m around you.”

                Youssef rolled his eyes. “So, what do I do? Just wander around town and wait for someone to start talking?”

                The clerk nodded. “That could be a good start. But if you’re looking for something specific, you might want to try Betsy when you wake up. She’s got a boutique of Gems and Rocks. You seem to like them rocks,” he said pointing at the black obsidian. “Found it in a mine?”

                The old man’s eyes lit up. “Ah, the old mine! I’ve been there before, you know. My brother used to work there before he died. Strange things happening there.”

                Youssef’s interest was piqued. “What kind of strange things?”

                The old man leaned in conspiratorially. “There’s a magnetar hidden in that mine, my boy.”

                “Shut up! Phineas,” interrupted the clerk. “If you want my advice, stranger, don’t go near the old mine. ‘Curiosity killed the cat’ if you know what I mean.”

                The telegraph receiver started to make clicketing sounds. The clerk read it and looked at Youssef.

                “You’ve got a message man. Time to wake up.”

                “Wake up?”

                :fleuron2:

                Youssef opened his eyes and looked at a black mass in front of his eyes. He had been sleeping with the stone just beside his head on the pillow. No wonder he had had weird dreams. He heard his phone buzz. He sat up reluctantly and looked at his phone. 8am. A notification that his game progression had been saved and several messages from Miss Tartiflate, the last one saying :

                Don’t think you can dodge work. I’m still expecting the last blog post you’ve been paid to write!!!”

                He groaned as reality was starting to catch up.

                #6553
                ÉricÉric
                Keymaster

                  Luckily for them, the sand structure with the nearby nests of snapping sand turtles was also a graveyard for the military drones that weren’t apparently programmed to register natural elements as threats.

                  They quickly found four of them who weren’t completely damaged, and with some technical assist from Jorid, Georges was able to repair the propulsion and deactivate the military programs and tracking beacons.

                  Klatu had some ropes in his speedster that they tied to their rudimentary drive and the drones, so they could carry Léonard’s body while he was still in stasis.

                  His vitals were generally positive, and Salomé kept checking on him, while Georges and Klatu managed attaching the odd assemblage of drones to their craft.

                  The ride back wasn’t as bad as the first time, maybe due to the extra cargo that made maneuvres more complex for their green driver.

                  “This is worth the detour. Seems like Klatu really wanted to save time and avoided to show us the scenic route the first time,” said Georges trying to break the tense worried silence.

                  Salomé smiled weakly “Léonard’s consciousness is embroiled into complex thoughts; they have to deal about some threat, the nature of which eludes me for now. It looks as though he’s absorbed some sort of forbidden knowledge, something potentially dangerous,” Salomé said to Georges. “I’m no longer as sure he was imprisoned for his punishment, but rather for protection…” she sighed. “for everyone else’s protection… I will feel better when we’re all back to the Jorid and we can run a full diagnosis.”

                  Georges looked at his friend apparently sleeping, and wrapped a loving arm around Salomé’s shoulder “It’s not going to be long now. He’s going to be fine.”

                  ***

                  “Horrible doing business with you.” Klatu said as they parted, rubbing his hands together in gleeful satisfaction. Whatever the Jorid had organised as a deal for his payment, it seemed the added drones weren’t part of it and came as an extra bonus.

                  :fleuron:

                  Inside the Jorid, while Salomé was setting up space for Léonard and making the preparation for the diagnosis, Georges looked at the tiles board, readying the craft for imminent departure.

                  A new tile had appeared, with a distinct pattern form, almost like an ogee.

                  “Jorid, is this new?”

                  “Indeed Georges, our adventure has inspired me to create new avenues of exploration.”

                  “Oh, that’s fresh.” Georges looked into the shifting symbol at its surface. After it stabilised, he could see there was a sort of spiral shell with forms reminiscent of the mocking turtles peeking out from the centre, surrounded by sand dunes.

                  “Jorid, tell me more please.”

                  “Sure, I’d call it ‘Sandshell‘. Do you want the full curriculum?”

                  “Absolutely, colour me intrigued!”

                  The Sandshell:
                  Function: A reminder of the fragility of our perceived reality and the importance of questioning our assumptions
                  Families: Vold, Zuli, Ilda
                  Significance: The Sandshell represents the shifting and unstable nature of our beliefs, assumptions, and understandings. Like the sand that slips through our fingers, so too can our perception of the world around us be ephemeral and illusory. The image of the mock turtle serves as a reminder that we often live under assumed identities and in a world built on questionable foundations.
                  As advice: The Sandshell encourages one to question their beliefs and assumptions, to examine the foundations upon which they have built their reality, and to search for a deeper understanding of truth.
                  Depiction: The Sandshell can be depicted as a spiral shell with a mocking turtle peeking out from the center, surrounded by sand dunes. The sand symbolizes the instability of our perceptions and the turtle represents the assumed identities and neurotic fairy tales that make up our reality. The spiral form of the shell represents the journey of discovery and self-reflection.”

                  “I love it,” said Georges enthusiastically “can we use it to plot our next course?”

                  “As a matter of fact we can Georges. Let me realign the grid and propose some suggestions. Do you have a seed thought to offer for this journey?”

                  Georges pondered for a while, when the image of the fishboard sprung forth in his mind. “Our little adventure is reminding me of our origins, Jorid —Léonard, working on the fishboard, your ancestor in a way… Us, finding Léonard… It feels like an adventure back to our origins. Can you project a destination on this vector…” then thinking at Salomé’s worried face “… that would be safe for our next stop, and allow us to find help for Léonard.”

                  “Verily.” Jorid answered back. “Course plotted. Please get comfortable until we arrive at our destination.”

                  #6552

                  In reply to: Orbs of Madjourneys

                  When Xavier woke up, the sun was already shining, its rays darting in pulsating waves throughout the land, blinding him. The room was already heating up, making the air difficult to breathe.

                  He’d heard the maid rummaging in the neighbouring rooms for some time now, which had roused him from sleep. He couldn’t recall seeing any “DO NOT DISTURB” sign on the doorknob, so staying in bed was only delaying the inevitable barging in of the lady who was now vacuuming vigorously in the corridor.

                  Feeling a bit dull from the restless sleep, he quickly rose from the bed and put on his clothes.

                  Once out of his room, he smiled at the cleaning lady (who seemed to be the same as the cooking lady), who harumphed back as a sort of greeting. Arriving in the kitchen, he wondered whether it was probably too late for breakfast —until he noticed the figure of the owner, who was quietly watching him through half-closed eyes in her rocking chair.

                  “Idle should have left some bread, butter and jam to eat if you’re hungry. It’s too late for bacon and sausages. You can help yourself with tea or coffee, there’s a fresh pot on the kitchen counter.”

                  “Thanks M’am.” He answered, startled by the unexpected appearance.

                  “No need. Finly didn’t wake you up, did she? She doesn’t like when people mess up her schedule.”

                  “Not at all, it was fine.” he lied politely, helping himself to some tea. He wasn’t sure buttered bread was enough reward to suffer a long, awkward conversation, given that the lady (Mater, she insisted he’s called him) wasn’t giving him any sign of wanting to leave.

                  “It shouldn’t be long until your friends come back from the airport. Your other friend, the big lad, he went for a walk around. Idle seems to have sold him a visit to our Gems & Rocks boutique down Main avenue.” She tittered. “Sounds grand when we say it —that’s just the only main road, but it helps with tourists bookings. And Betsy will probably tire him down quickly. She tends to get too excited when she gets clients down there; most of her business she does online now.”

                  Xavier was done with his tea, and looking for an exit strategy, but she finally seemed to pick up on the signals.

                  “… As I probably do; look at me wearing you down. Anyway, we have some preparing to do for the Carts & whatnot festival.”

                  When she was gone, Xavier’s attention was attracted by a small persistent ticking noise followed by some cracking.

                  It was on the front porch.

                  A young girl in her thirteens, hoodie on despite the heat, and prune coloured pants, was sitting on the bench reading.

                  She told him without raising her head from her book. “It’s Aunt Idle’s new pet bird. It’s quite a character.”

                  “What?”

                  “The noise, it’s from the bird. It’s been cracking nuts for the past twenty minutes. Hence the noise. And yes, it’s annoying as hell.”

                  She rose from the bench. “Your bear friend will be back quick I’m certain; it’s just a small boutique with some nice crystals, but mostly cheap orgonite new-agey stuff. Betsy only swears by that, protection for electromagnetic waves and stuff she says, but look around… we are probably got more at risk to be hit by Martian waves or solar coronal mass ejections that by the ones from the telecom tower nearby.”

                  Xavier didn’t know what to say, so he nodded and smiled. He felt a bit out of his element. When he looked around, the girl had already disappeared.

                  Now alone, he sat on the empty bench, stretched and yawned while trying to relax. It was so different from the anonymity in the city: less people here, but everything and everyone very tightly knit together, although they all seemed to irk and chafe at the thought.

                  The flapping of wings startled him.

                  “Hellooo.” The red parrot had landed on the backrest of the bench and dropped shells from a freshly cracked nut which rolled onto the ground.

                  Xavier didn’t think to respond; like with AL, sometimes he’d found using polite filler words was only projecting human traits to something unable to respond back, and would just muddle the prompt quality.

                  “So ruuuude.” The parrot nicked his earlobe gently.

                  “Ouch! Sorry! No need to become aggressive!”

                  “You arrrre one to talk. Rouge is on Yooour forehead.”

                  Xavier looked surprised at the bird in disbelief. Did the bird talk about the mirror test? “What sort of smart creature are you now?”

                  “Call meee Rose. Pretty Giiirl acceptable.”

                  Xavier smiled. The bird seemed quite fascinating all of a sudden.
                  It was strange, but the bird seemed left completely free to roam about; it gave him an idea.

                  “Rose, Pretty Girl, do you know some nice places around you’d like to show me?”

                  “Of couuurse. Foôllow Pretty Girl.”

                  #6551

                  In reply to: Orbs of Madjourneys

                  Xavier had woken up in the middle of the night that felt surprisingly alive bursting with a quiet symphony of sounds from nocturnal creatures and nearby nature, painted on a canvas of eerie spacious silence.

                  It often took him a while to get accustomed to any new place, and it was not uncommon for him to have his mind racing in the middle of the night. Generally Brytta had a soothing presence and that often managed to nudge him back to sleep, otherwise, he would simply wake up until the train of thoughts had left the station.

                  It was beginning of the afternoon in Berlin; Brytta would be in a middle of a shift, so he recorded a little message for her to find when she would get back to her phone. It was funny to think they’d met thanks to Yasmin and Zara, at the time the three girls were members of the same photography club, which was called ‘Focusgroupfocus’ or something similar…
                  With that done, he’d turned around for something to do but there wasn’t much in the room to explore or to distract him sufficiently. Not even a book in the nightstand drawer. The decoration itself had a mesmerising nature, but after a while it didn’t help with the racing thoughts.

                  He was tempted to check in the game — there was something satisfactory in finishing a quest that left his monkey brain satiated for a while, so he gave in and logged back in.

                    :fleuron2:

                  Completing the quest didn’t take him too long this time. The main difficulty initially was to find the portal from where his avatar had landed. It was a strange carousel of blue storks that span into different dimensions one could open with the proper incantation.

                  As usual, stating the quirk was the key to the location, and the carousel portal propelled him right away to Midnight town, which was clearly a ghost town in more ways than one. Interestingly, he was chatting on the side with Glimmer, who’d run into new adventures of her own while continuing to ask him what was up, and as soon as he’d reached Midnight town, all communication channels suddenly went dark. He’d laughed to himself thinking how frustrated Glimmer would have been about that. But maybe the game took care of sending her AI-generated messages simulating his presence. Despite the disturbing thought of having an AI generated clone of himself, he almost hoped for it (he’d probably signed the consent for this without realising), so that he wouldn’t have to do a tedious recap about all what she’d missed.

                  Once he arrived in the town, the adventure followed a predictable pattern. The clues were also rather simple to follow.

                  The townspeople are all frozen in time, stuck in their daily routines and unable to move on. Your mission is to find the missing piece of continuity, a small hourglass that will set time back in motion and allow the townspeople to move forward.

                  The clue to finding the hourglass lies within a discarded pocket watch that can be found in the mayor’s office. You must unscrew the back and retrieve a hidden key. The key will unlock a secret compartment in the town clock tower, where the hourglass is kept.

                  Be careful as you search for the hourglass, as the town is not as abandoned as it seems. Spectral figures roam the streets, and strange whispers can be heard in the wind. You may also encounter a mysterious old man who seems to know more about the town’s secrets than he lets on.

                  Evading the ghosts and spectres wasn’t too difficult once you got the hang of it. The old man however had been quite an elusive figure to find, but he was clearly the highlight of the whole adventure; he had been hiding in plain sight since the beginning of the adventure. One of the blue storks in the town that he’d thought had come with him through the portal was in actuality not a bird at all.

                  While he was focused on finishing the quest, the interaction with the hermit didn’t seem very helpful. Was he really from the game construct? When it was time to complete the quest and turn the hourglass to set the town back in motion, and resume continuity, some of his words came back to Xavier.

                  “The town isn’t what it seems. Recognise this precious moment where everything is still and you can realise it for the illusion that it is, a projection of your busy mind. When motion resumes, you will need to keep your mind quiet. The prize in the quest is not the completion of it, but the realisation you can stop the agitation at any moment, and return to what truly matters.”

                  The hermit had turned to him with clear dark eyes and asked “do you know what you are seeking in these adventures? do you know what truly matters to you?”

                    :fleuron2:

                  When he came out of the game, his quest completed, Xavier felt the words resonate ominously.

                  A buzz of the phone snapped him out of it.

                  It was a message from Zara. Apparently she’d found her way back to modernity.

                  [4:57] “Going to pick up Yasmin at the airport. You better sleep away the jetlag you lazy slugs, we have poultry damn plenty planned ahead – cackling bugger cooking lessons not looking forward to, but can be fun. Talk to you later. Z”

                  He had the impulse to go with her, but the lack of sleep was hitting back at him now, and he thought he’d better catch some so he could manage to realign with the timezone.

                  “The old man was right… that sounds like a lot of agitation coming our way…”

                  #6545

                  In reply to: Orbs of Madjourneys

                  The road was stretching endlessly and monotonously, a straight line disappearing into a nothingness of dry landscapes that reminded Youssef of the Gobi desert where he had been driving not too long ago. At regular speed, the car barely seemed to progress.

                  > O Time suspend thy flight!

                  Eternity. Something only nature could procure him. He loved the feeling, and compared to the more usual sand of Gobi, the red sands of Australia gave him the impression he had shifted into another reality. That and the fifteen hours flight listening to Gladys made it difficult to respond to Xavier’s loquacious self and funny jokes. After some time, his friend stopped talking and tried catching some signal to play the Game, brandishing his phone in different directions as if he was hunting ghosts with a strange device.

                  It reminded him he had to accept his next quest in a ghost town. That’s all he remembered. He could do that at the Inn, when they could rest in their rooms.

                  Youssef wondered if the welcome sign at the entrance of the town had seen better days. The wood the fish was made of seemed eaten by termites, but someone had painted it with silver and blue to give it a fresher look. Youssef snorted at the shocked expression on his friend’s face.

                  “It looked like it died of boredom. Let’s just hope the Innside doesn’t look like a gutted fish,” Xavier said.

                  An old lady showed them their rooms. She didn’t seem the talkative type, which made Youssef love her immediately with her sharp tongue and red cardigan. He rather admired her braided silver hair as it reminded him of his mother who would let him brush her hair when they lived in Norway. It was in another reality. He smiled. She saw him looking at her and her eyes narrowed like a pair of arrowslits. She seemed ready to fire. Instead she kept on ranting about an idle person not doing her only job properly. They each went to their rooms, Xavier took number 7 and Youssef picked number 5, his lucky number.

                  He was glad to be able to enjoy his own room after the trip of the last few weeks. It had been for work, so it was different. But usually he liked travelling the world on his own and meet people on his way and learn from their stories. Traveling with people always meant some compromise that would always frustrate him because he wanted to go faster, or explore more tricky paths.

                  The room was nicely decorated, and the scent of fresh paint made it clear it was recent. A strange black stone, which Youssef recognized as a black obsidian, has been put on a pile of paper full of doodles, beside two notebooks and pencils. The notebooks’ pages were blank, he thought of giving them to Xavier. He took the stone. It was cold to the touch and his reflection on the surface looked back at him, all wavy. The doodles on the paper looked like a map and hard to read annotations. One stood out, though which looked like a wifi password. That made him think of the Game. He entered it on his phone and that was it. Maybe it was time to go back in. But he wanted to take a shower first.

                  He put his backpack and his bag on the bed and unpacked it. Amongst a pile of dirty clothes, he managed to find a t-shirt that didn’t smell too bad and a pair of shorts. He would have to use the laundry service of the hotel.

                  He had missed hot showers. Once refreshed, he moved his bags on the floor and jumped on his bed and launched the Game.

                  Youssef finds himself in a small ghost town in what looks like the middle of the Australian outback. The town was once thriving but now only a few stragglers remain, living in old, decrepit buildings. He’s standing in the town square, surrounded by an old post office, a saloon, and a few other ramshackle buildings.

                  A message appeared on the screen.

                  Quest: Your task is to find the source of the magnetic pull that attracts talkative people to you. You must find the reason behind it and break the spell, so you can continue your journey in peace.

                  Youssef started to move his avatar towards the saloon when someone knocked on the door.

                  #6541

                  In reply to: Orbs of Madjourneys

                  When Sergio dropped her back at the Flying Fish Inn it was later than Zara realized.  The verandah and reception lights were on but everyone had gone to bed, everyone except Idle who was poring over a pile of old notebooks at a dining room table. “Good day out?” she looked up over the top of her reading glasses and smiled at Zara.

                  Zara returned the smile. “It was great, thanks!  I’d love one”,  she added when Idle asked her if she fancied a glass of wine.

                  “Grab a glass off the sideboard there and come and sit down,” Idle said. “Are you hungry or did you grab a bite in Alice?”

                  “Yeah, I did, thanks,” replied Zara, trying hard not to pull a face at the first sip of the Australian wine.  “Nice label,” she said, “Yellow Trail. I should be used to seeing kangaroos on wine bottles by now” she laughed.

                  “A place called Monte’s Lounge,” she replied when Idle asked where she’d eaten, “A cabaret meets circus theme, not what I was expecting out here.  I met a guy on the trail…”

                  “The plot thickens,” Idle grinned, “Comedy and romance.”

                  Zara laughed, warming to her genial host.   Accepting a second glass of wine, she told Idle all about Sergio.  He was a Spanish archaeologist who had come over to see his daughter in Townsville on the east coast, and had booked a few side trips to see some of the indigenous rock art.  When Zara walked off the trail after she found the compass (and the damn parrot vanished, leaving her alone) she had found herself in a small clearing with high rocky sides. Sergio had his back to her and was photographing the rock wall.

                  “Well, long story short, we got on like a house on fire,” Idle smiled encouragingly as Zara continued. “It’s been absolutely ages you know, ever since I left Rupert, nobody’s really taken my fancy.  Anyway he invited me for dinner and said he didn’t mind bringing me back here later in the hire car.”

                  Zara had another sip of wine, thinking about Rupert.  What a prize twat he’d turned out to be.  Still, the divorce settlement had been good.  He’d seemed so adventurous and just the ticket at first, lots of holidays in unusual places. Bit of a Hooray Henry and a Champagne Charlie, but it had been fun at first. And a tad too much charlie, too. She had been blissfully unaware of politics and conspiracy theories at the time, but it wasn’t long before his views came between them and she could no longer stomach his idiotic and, to her mind, dangerously cretinous beliefs.

                  “My parents are both archaeologists,” Zara told Idle, “I learned a lot from them and always been interested in it, but didn’t fancy all the years of studying, and I really wanted to work with animals.  There aren’t many good paying jobs working with animals though, not the kind of animals that need helping.  Anyway, it worked out ok in the end, thanks to Rupert’s money.”

                  “You must have had a lot in common to talk about with Sergio, then, him being an archaeologist,” Idle remarked and Zara felt herself blush, much to her astonishment.  She couldn’t recall blushing in years.

                  “Yes we did do some talking,” they both laughed and Zara said “I better get off to bed. Thanks for the wine.”

                  Zara had completely forgotten about her friends arriving, or the game she’d intended to play until they arrived. She collapsed on the bed without brushing her teeth and was asleep within minutes.

                  #6520

                  In reply to: Orbs of Madjourneys

                  Rajkumar had named his car JUMPY because he said it reminded him of his mother country. He drove like they were in the chaotic streets of an Indian city. Youssef’s fist was clenched on the door handle, his knuckles white. He needed to hold on to something just as much as he was afraid of loosing the door.

                  He had never been so happy as when Rajkumar stopped in front of his cousin’s shop and restaurant.

                  “Just in time for the best butter chicken in all Alice Springs!” said Rajkumar, pointing to the restaurant on the left.

                  Smells of greasy sauce, meat and spices floated in the air. Despite his legendary hunger, Youssef’s stomach started to protest from the recent treatment on the road. If he had had any doubt, he was sure now that he wouldn’t go on a trip in Jumpy with Rajkumar.

                  “Maybe I’ll go for the scarf first,” he said.

                  Rajkumar noded and pointed to the right, to a stout man squating in front of a pile of scarves.

                  “This is cousin Ashish. You can’t find a better shop in town for scarves,” said Rajkumar. He high fived his cousin who looked like a giant in comparison with the short guide. They talked for a long time in what Youssef assumed to be some Indian dialect. At some point, his guide pointed a finger at him and said : “This big man is looking for a red scarf. I told him you had the best quality in town. Hand made, right from India. Ashish buys and sells the best to the best only. I have to go park the car and tell my other cousin to prepare you a meal. Best Indian food in Alice.”

                  After he left, cousin Ashish showed Youssef in. At the entrance incense burned at the feet of a couple of colourful Hindu gods. The intoxicating smell reminded him of a stop at a temple during his last trip with the documentary team. The face of Miss Tartiflate jumped into his mind. He would have to take care of THE BLOG at some point, but for now, he was looking for a red scarf. The inside of the shop was as messy as a Mongolian bazaar. Clothes upon clothes, and piles of scarves everywhere.

                  “Red scarves are over there, said Ashish. Follow me.”

                  He was less talkative than his cousin, which was a welcome relief. He led Youssef to the back of the shop. On the wall, the portrait in black and white of an old Indian man was watching over their shoulder.

                  Ashish took one long red scarf and put it around his neck.

                  “You can touch, he said. Very good quality. Very light. Like you wear nothing.”

                  Youssef took the end of the fabric in his hand. It felt very silky and light to the touch.

                  “That’s perfect, I’ll take it”, he said.

                  His phone buzzed in his pocket. He took it out and checked his messages.

                  • 📨 [Quirk Land] NEW QUEST OPENED

                  Looking at the time, it was already noon. Xavier must have landed in Alice already. He started to type a message to his friend :

                  💬 Meet me for lunch at Todd Mall. Patel indian restaurant next to fabric shop

                  #6518

                  In reply to: Orbs of Madjourneys

                  Xavier had been drowsing in the rental car for a while, waiting for a message from Youssef. He’d stopped the aircon despite the suffocating heat, as he was starting to feel cold. And he’d started to nose dive in dreaming.

                  The buzzing of his phone made him snap back to consciousness from the weirdest dream, he had to take a few seconds to adjust. The phone went into silent mode to voicemail before he got the chance to pick it up.

                  Weirdest dream ever. Few hours ago, he’d been going round and round the place, trying to find a library to buy a black book, but surprisingly, even when he’d managed to find a small bookstore, there were none to sell. None with a black cover…

                  He’d wondered —sometimes these quests are made to be difficult, but come on, how difficult could it be. Even a plain black-covered notebook would have been enough, but nothing!

                  That’s when he’d decided to drop the search, that he dozed off in the car.

                  Few images came back from the dream. First, the insane search, and books coming up in all shapes and forms, any color but black… or black but with black-and-white photos on the covers he didn’t want.

                  And then, there was one. He started to open it, and all the pages were blank. As he was browsing them, looking for a clue, like a pop-out book, something came up from the middle of the pages. And it was himself, smiling back at him. The shock snapped him right back to the rather quiet street of Alice Springs.

                   

                   

                   

                   

                  SOOO WEIIIIRD

                   

                   

                   

                   

                   


                  He turned the ignition back on as well as the aircon. Checked his message.

                  • 📨 [Quirk Land] NEW QUEST OPENED
                  • 1 voicemail from ❣️🐝Brytta🐝❣️
                  • 💬 Youssef typing…
                  ÉricÉric
                  Keymaster

                    A background on the excavated mysteries from Twists and One Return From the Time Capsule.

                    BACKGROUND CONTENT: Focus is on key protagonists:

                    • Clara (a woman in her late 40s, taking care of her father, living the two of them with her Malinois dog VanGogh),
                    • her father Bob (a widowed man with early stage dementia, who can see and speak to his dead wife Jane)
                    • and Nora (nicknamed Alienor, Clara’s friend, a local thrill-seeking artist and amateur archaeologist)

                    in an story of discovery around a mystery of a box (which is a Time Capsule found by Clara’s dog VanGogh) during a time and place of travel restrictions (and possibly time-travel restrictions).

                    Tone of story is curious and engrossed with a mystery of the ages, some supernatural grounded in plausibility, looking for connecting dots with the past sometimes long gone, and a present that slips away in our memories.

                    An encounter with the mysterious Will (possibly Will Tarkin), who seems nice and seductive yet acts unscrupulously and manipulative (seemingly recognising Bob from somewhere), could be the key to a big reveal, and possible links to Jane’s pasts. All while struggling to keep away the nosy neighbour.
                    The conclusion will bring some realisations about the power of memories, the ties between living and dead, and how things never remain buried for long.

                    #6495
                    ÉricÉric
                    Keymaster

                      The landing on the sandy desert of Bluhm’Oxl was smoother than usual. It usually took a few minutes to get accustomed to their surrounding, the body transformations that came together with jumping across dimensions. In this case, it looked as though this dimension was quite close to their own.

                      “Checking translation device…” Georges touched his ear lightly.

                      Gremsbtic newkil jumbal” said Salomé in response. Georges looked quizzically at her face before realising she was pulling a classic prank.

                      She laughed heartily. “That joke’s never getting old, isn’t it?”

                      “Let’s walk a little in this direction, the rendez-vous point with Klatu isn’t too far.”

                      “Any idea how Jorid managed to make contact this time?” Salomé asked.

                      “Not sure really. Generally the quantum probability framework that’s built into the Jorid is managing to make trades across the multiverse that are quite complex to conceive or track down. Last time I tried to check, Jorid had traded one tardigrade to obtain us a couple of premium pass to the Amp’hool of Athumbra”

                      “Underwater Whalets’ concert from the UniverseTour of Shakara, yes that was quite a night to remember…” Salomé reminisced fondly.

                      “Fully booked for centuries, near impossible to get, and yet all it took was about a hundred of trades across multiple owners… No idea how it manages, but it found someone who was ready to trade their two front-row seats in exchange for a single Snoot’s hair.”

                      “And why are we meeting this guy by the way? What’s his specialty?” Salomé winked. “You left me with the dressing duty, so happy you did all the reconnaissance.”

                      Georges chucked. “all that Jorid said was: Klatu’s a relatively trustworthy Zathu, known for their expertise in dimensional magic, which is a crucial asset in your search for Léonard, presumably gone missing in the conflict-ridden Zathu sector.

                      “Mmmh” said Salomé. “Dimensional magic. Rather unscientific for Jorid to express in that way. Nothing that I’ve recently dreamt about seems to relate. I guess we’ll see.”

                      #6492

                      In reply to: Orbs of Madjourneys

                      With a determined glint in his eye, Xavier set his sights on the slot machines. He scanned the rows of blinking lights and flashing screens until one caught his attention. He approached the machine and inserted a coin, feeling a rush of excitement as he pulled the lever.

                      With a satisfying whir, the reels began to spin, and before he knew it, the golden banana appeared on the screen, lining up perfectly. The machine erupted in flashing lights and loud noises, and a ticket spilled out onto the floor.

                      🎰 · 💰
                      🍌🍌🍌

                      Xavier picked it up, reading aloud the inscriptions on the ticket, “Congratulations on completing your quest. You may enjoy your trip until the next stage of your journey. Look for the cook on the pirate boat, she will give you directions to regroup with your friends. And don’t forget to confirm your bookings.”

                      Glimmer let out a whoop of trepidation, “Let’s go find that cook, Xav! I can’t wait to see what’s next in store for us!”

                      But Xavier, feeling a bit worn out, replied with a smile, “Hold on a minute, love. All I need at the moment is just some R&R after all that brouhaha.”

                      Glimmer nodded in understanding and they both made their way to the deck, taking in the fresh air and the breathtaking scenery as the boat sailed towards its next destination.

                      As the boat continued its journey, sailing and gliding on the river in the air filled with moist, they could start to see across the mist opening like a heavy curtain a colourful floating market in the distance, and the sounds of haggling and laughter filled the air.

                      They couldn’t wait to explore and see what treasures and surprises awaited them. The journey was far from over, but for now, they were content to simply enjoy the ride.

                      :fleuron2:

                      Xavier closed his laptop while his friends were still sending messages on the chatroom. He’d had long days of work before leaving to take his flights to Australia, during which he hoped he could rest enough during the flights.

                      Most of the flights he’d checked had a minimum of 3 layovers, and a unbelievably long durations (not to count the astronomic amount of carbon emissions). Against all common sense, he’d taken one of the longest flight duration. It was 57h, but only 3 layovers. From Berlin, to Stockholm, then Dubai and Sydney. He could probably catch up with Youssef there as apparently he sent a message before boarding. They could go to Alice Spring and the Frying Mush Inn together. He’d try to find the reviews, but they were only listed on boutiquehotelsdownunder.com and didn’t have the rave reviews of the prestigious Kookynie Grand Hotel franchise. God knows what Zara had in mind while booking this place, it’d better be good. Reminded him of the time they all went to that improbably ghastly hotel in Spain (at the time Yasmin was still volunteering in a mission and couldn’t join) for a seminar with other game loonies and cosplayers. Those were the early days of the game, and the technology frankly left a lot to be desired at the time. They’d ended up eating raspberry jam with disposable toothbrushes, and get drunk on laughter.

                      When Brytta had seen the time it took to go there, she’d reconsidered coming. She couldn’t afford taking that much time off, and spending the equivalent of 4 full days of her hard-won vacation as a nurse into a plane simply for the round-trip —there was simply no way.
                      Xavier had proposed to shorten his stay, but she’d laughed and said, “you go there, I’ll enjoy some girl time with my friends, and I’ll work on my painting” —it was more convenient when he was gone for business trips, she would be able to put all the materials out, and not care to keep the apartment neat and tidy.

                      The backpack was ready with the essentials; Xavier liked to travel light.

                      #6479
                      Jib
                      Participant

                         

                        Chapter 1: The Search Begins

                         

                        Georges was sitting more or less comfortably in the command chair on the control deck of the Jorid, slowly drinking his tea. The temperature of the beverage seemed to be determined randomly since the interference patterns in the navigation array weren’t totally fixed when they removed those low quality tiles. Drinking cold or hot tea was not the worse of it, and it was even kind of a challenge to swallow it and not get burned by ice. The deck kept changing shape and colours, reconfiguring along with the quantum variations of the Boodenbaum field variation due to some leakage of information between dimensions. Salomé had preferred resting in her travelpod where the effects were not as strongly felt.

                        “The worse is not as much seeing your face morph into a soul-insect and turn inside down, although those greenish hues usually make me feel nauseous, but feeling two probable realities where my organs grow and shrink at the same time is more than I can bear.”

                        After a few freakish experiences, where his legs cross-merged with the chair, or a third eye grow behind his head, or that time when dissolved into a poof of greasy smoke, Georges got used to the fluid nature of reality during the trips. You just had to get along with it and not resist. He thought it gave some spice and colours to their journey across dimensions. He enjoyed the differences of perceptions generated by the fluctuations of the Boodenbaum field, as it allowed his tea to taste like chardonnay or bœuf bourguignon, and was glad when he discovered a taste that he had never experienced before.

                        During the last few trips, he had attempted to talk with Jorid, but their voices were so garbled and transformed so quickly that he lost interest. He couldn’t make the difference with the other noises, like honking trucks passing by on a motorway, or the cry of agony of a mating Irdvark. He felt a pang of nostalgia as the memories of Duane, Murtuane and Phréal merged into the deck around him. He wondered if he could get physically lost during one of the trips as he started to feel his limbs move away from his body, one hairy foot brushing by his left ear while he drank a sip of tea with the mouth that had grown on his middle finger. Salomé had warned him about fractured perception and losing a piece of his mind… It seemed it hadn’t happened yet. But would he notice?

                        Already he felt the deceleration he had come to notice when they neared their destination. The deck stabilized into a shape adapted to this quadrant of the dimensional universes. The large command screen displayed images of several ruins lost in the sand desert of Bluhm’Oxl.

                        Georges looked at his hands, and touched his legs. His reflection  on the command screen looked back at him. Handsome as usual. He grinned. Salomé wouldn’t refrain from telling him if something was off anyway.

                        Jorid: “I have woken up Salomé.”

                        She won’t be long now. Georges ordered a hot meklah, one of her favorites drink that usually helped her refocus when getting out of her pod.

                        A blip caught Georges’ attention.

                        Jorid: “This is Tlal Klatl’Oxl, better know as Klatu. Your potential contact on Bluhm’Oxl and a Zathu. He’ll guide and protect you as you enter the conflict zone to look for Léonard.”

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