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  • #1188

    — “I’M FRIGGINCOLD!”
    — “I have to agree with Glor”, said Mavis, as Sharon was about to object to the loud whines
    — “Oh, bummer, you two peas in a pod! How can you be cold with all that fur on you! And how do you want to break out this prison you whiners eh?”
    — “You’re the bloody genius Sha, you tell us! Had you not signed us up for those stupid beauty treatments…”
    — “Now that’s a bit late for what-ifs, init? Let’s make the best of what we’ve got; had it not always worked out that way?”

    The two others Yeah’ed in unison.

    — “Do you mean we’ll burn our fleece to make us warm?”, Glor asked sheepishly
    — “Don’t be bloddy silly! If we want to escape, better keep that fur as long as we’re in penguin land !”
    — “So what?”
    — “What ‘what’?! Don’t tell me you haven’t noticed?” Sharon’s voice trailed off with a hint of hopelessness

    WHAT?!”
    — “You’ve been snotting all around for hours, and you haven’t bloddy noticed?!”
    WHAT?!”

    — “Our snot, bloddy ‘ell! It’s sticky like those goddam spider webs! With a bit of training, I’m sure we can knit a solid net and ropes and stuff to get out of ‘ere!”

    #1186

    Arona was fretting.

    “Now, what is this all about? Can someone explain me? The purple sand is pretty, the green sky too, however it looks just like an insane dream from a deranged mind having abused smoke of robjane leaves.”

    Framing Irtak —who was having a funny pout on his face— the dragons Heckle and Jeckle were too busy considering with an amused attention the new form and energy field that their progenitor had taken.

    No words were spoken to answer Arona’s plea for answers, but answers were starting to come to them in the form of a bundle of energy which would be difficult to translate in a linear manner.

    They started to understand a few things. That for one, N’meôrl the Nirgual was not here by chance, at this place and time. Again, they had travelled far in the past of the history of their dimension, and events of great importance were in motion, that they were given to witness.

    At first, the flow of information they were having was like a stream they thought they had no control of, but as questions were forming they noticed that it was altering the flow which was then encompassing the answers to those questions.

    Like when Jeckle wondered if he and his twin had big birdies counterparts like this one to merge with, and got the following answer “No. For you are quite new essences fragments, and thus do not yet hold focuses in similar extent to your progenitor.”

    Arona was quite pleased by this new mode of getting answers, especially as she could visibly get the answers she was genuinely looking for, not those coming from questions she was only remotely interested in.

    N’meôrl was showing them also, that unlike him, they were not quite physically focused into that environment, and were not noticed by the small surrounding creatures like the little red scrabs crawling in the sand. They were mainly there to observe and draw their own conclusions, as soon some events would occur.

    As they’d finished absorbing the information, they started to notice a feeling of expectation in the air. N’meôrl conveyed to them that they would have to stay quiet in his peripheral awareness for “they” were coming, and he was on a delicate mission.

    :fleuron:

    Footsteps on the beach.
    A man approaching. He looks like Irtak and Arona, as if he had just come into this alien world from the same door they had taken. But he fails to notice them.

    He stays, facing the deep green waters of the ocean brushing the shore, as if expecting someone.

    A strange buzz starts to fill the space. A point of focused light the size of a pinhole appears in front of him, expands quickly with an elastic quality, and pops with a soft sound, revealing an improbably tall figure under a cloak.

    The man greets the new-comer with deference
    “Master Sinadron”
    “Jarvis, my good friend.”

    They start to walk on the beach at the unspoken invitation of the one with the smooth voice named Sinadron.

    “So, I’ve been told our little matter is going very well.”
    “Yes, very well, Master; I am deeply grateful for your intervention; without your help I’ve been told, my dear would not have been allowed to…”
    “Let’s not talk of such things any longer; it was such a delight to help two sweet young souls so deeply in love”

    Somehow, despite the words of kindness which are slithering with ease, the invisible witness got the uncanny feeling that they are but a deceptive fragment of the truth.

    “Now. Tell me”, the one named Sinadron continues in a mellifluous voice “Why have you called me for?”
    “The settlement you have suggested us to start on this land…”
    “Yes, I am aware, please go to the point instead of labouring things I am well aware of.” The voice had sharpened a bit.
    “I am sorry Master.”
    “Continue”
    “There is a growing dissent that…”
    “And from who that shall come?”
    “Err… I hear Pelorus has spoken to the Zentauras…”
    “Pelorus is but a nuisance.” The voice wasn’t asking for contradiction, though an imperceptible grin was floating on the half-hidden face.
    He continued “But I shall help you, once again
    “Master, you are too generous…”
    “Let me finish. I will provide you with more men and women, willing to start a new life under your command, to help you grow your settlement. There are a few slaves on the Duane, that place from where you come who will do great.”
    “Master…”
    “They will be there in an hexade. Make sure you stand your ground until then, even if that means confronting those nasty Zentauras.”

    And without waiting for the confused thanks, he disappeared, grinning widely.

    #2160
    ÉricÉric
    Keymaster

      “When it’s too elaborate, it’s too weirdo, and when it’s pure delirium, it’s increasingly rubbish” — ID1776

      “Clarify certain aspects, and take responsibility for how your energy is displayed, and do not rely on the machine to do it.” — ID1851

      “You all notice a change in vowellness of your Ooniverse. Even those who are unaware notice a changing shift in vowellness. This is a new emergence into a wonderful vowellness that you have all agreed and decided to accomplish.” — ID1857

      #1185

      “Did you see how Malvina went to her date?”
      “Yes I saw it beloved” and she added with a giggle “though she probably wouldn’t like us to call that a ‘date’ huhu”.
      “Ahaha” Georges was enjoying himself with various associations connected to his periphery. Associations with words like ‘date’, or with time-space connections, like the ones related to the dress Malvina was wearing.

      Salome huddled herself up against Georges, and not looking at him, said in a dreamy gaze “I remember perfectly that first time we heard about the Zynder”
      Georges answered, surfing on his own associations “I remember how people had so much trouble pronouncing it ‘right’ — Ze-In-dear, Zee-Indeer, Zaindher…ahaha it was so funny”.

      Then coming back to Salome’s last sentence that had been hanging in the soft silence unanswered. “I think I heard about it before you did, but I was vaguely aware of it. You were the one to tell me the legend.”

      “Yes, on that first day on the Kandulim, where the Zentaura told me about it.”
      “I would love you to tell me again…”

      The Legend of the Zyndre

      as told to Salome by Zharon the 44th, of the Zentaura’s tribe

      There is a legend among the people of this place, that people love to remind themselves of in times of despair. It’s the legend of this mythical creature named the Zyndre.
      What the Zyndre looks like, nobody knows for sure until they see one. Because once you see one, you know what it is, without a shadow of doubt. It may be tricky because some people have seen one, and they get into fights about what it looks like, for such is the nature of the Zyndre that its form is diverse and it doesn’t show itself to two people the same.
      That’s why my people have named it Zyndre, which means “the creature of a thousand forms”.
      Some people have searched to catch it, but their attempts have always failed. For the Zyndre doesn’t show itself to the forceful people. The Zyndre is a peaceful creature that will find for you what you most desire.
      That’s why many people have used to represent it with a large nose, for it is a seeker. It may find anything you want, but you have to desire it so much that it becomes the main focus of your attention. It burns in your head, not like a madness, but like a warm reinsurance, a soft knowingness that you will indeed find it, that which you desire most.
      So that once you find the Zyndre, you know you’ve reached that thing that you desire, because the Zyndre is pointing you in its very direction.

      “You know Georges”, she says “that night on the beach, I dreamt of the Zyndre”
      “Really? And how did you perceive it?”
      “It was beautiful, not like the classical representations we see, of that big-nosed creature; it was so elegant, like a small silver-shining spotted doe, with tall feet proportionally to its body, not unlike the Qilin of the ancient Chinese; and it was proposing me to ride it to escape its enclosure.
      And I was thinking in the dream, ‘it must be strange and a bit uncomfortable when it’s galloping’ —because it’s small, and my feet will touch the ground.”
      “So did you ride it?”
      “Yes, and you were with me, and it was carrying us with ease and grace, like it was floating and gliding above the ground…” Salome looked at Georges with a smile “So that when I woke up, I knew without a shadow of a doubt, that I was exactly where I most desired to be.”

      #1184

      “So we’ll be moving as soon as the others come back from their trip. Very well, that will be a great opportunity to see new environments for Yikes “ Vincentius acknowledged the news with his usual composure.

      “Very well then, I hope you are not too worried about Arona, but she…”
      “Not at all” Vincentius answered with a smile.
      “Oh… Okay then. Perfect!”

      Malvina added as if to make sure he had understood everything properly “So, I’ll be at my friend’s den for a few days. Georges and Salome will be here in case you need anything, and of course Buckie, though he might be a bit unpredictable…”

      “Have a safe voyage” so Vincentius, who was not of many words when it wasn’t about saying something meaningful, ended the conversation.

      :fleuron:

      To go to see her friend Yimho, Malvina wanted to look pretty —not dashing, but not looking like a country girl either. She reached for the linen embroidered dress with the zynder patterns. She loved it, it would be perfect.

      Yimho was a guy living nearby she had known briefly from her days of Sorcery training, who had a rejuvenating cave situated just under a hot spring, so that water was running almost everywhere inside the cave. On the walls, the floor, little pools everywhere. Yimho had this uncanny interest in golfindels and was telling all sorts of stuff to entertain people with; stuff that he got from tuning himself to the consciousness of the creatures.
      Malvina was thinking she would have a nice time there, though the echoes of clicking sounds throughout Yimho’s dwelling were a bit disturbing…

      #1183

      Inside the cave Malvina was considering to move again.

      She couldn’t help but giggle softly at the thought of Arona fulminating at how restless that dragon of hers was. To tell the truth, she was one of high restlessness too. And her dragon, and his offspring were most of the time merely resonating to her high energy. Otherwise, they would be too happy to be left alone to dream in a corner of a cave glowing of glukenitch lights.

      Now, she had to wait for Leormn’s return from his little vacation to be able to move swiftly. Granted she could do it alone, but it would be so tedious, with all those eggs hidden in various places. Perhaps she could do with a little vacationing herself. She was thinking, Georges and Salome would be certainly glad to take care of the cave in her absence, and of her guests.

      She would go see them; she loved the little Ugling who was growing so fast he would now run in many places and ask funny questions. Vincentius (with the grumpy cat perched on his large shoulders out of reach from the bullying little one) was teaching him lots of things on the vegetation (mostly fungus and lichens inside) and on geology that the boy was eager to learn, with an unmistakable affinity for rocks though. He would be quick to learn how to summon the rock’s consciousness for many purposes.

      She almost got lost in the tunnels again. “Someone should get those indications straight, dammit!” she swore as she entered a dead-end. A few turns right, and another left, and she was in front of the painted wall with the ‘PEACE OFF’ painted door. So that’s where they went… the door was visibly shut now…
      A nearby snort suddenly caught her attention.

      “Buckberry? What are you doing here little precious; hasn’t Arona taken you with her? Well, silly me, obviously not.” She added, seeing the floor covered with crushed buckberries juice. “Awww, you don’t even have the appetite for your cherished buckberries…”

      Malvina knew of course that it wasn’t the closed door that kept Buckberry here, as he most probably could go wherever Arona was, if she summoned him properly, but it was rather the fact she had left without notice. Malvina laughed heartily “Aahaha, don’t be soft Buckie, she’s probably been tricked by your daddie and your little buggers of brothers, but she’ll come back…”

      #1182

      “Wait a minute, you’re telling me that you’re a Parcel Delivery company, and you don’t have a map? You deliver parcels and you don’t have a map, you don’t have the internet, and your delivery man doesn’t have a phone?”

      Bea was beginning to sound exasperated, Leonora thought. Must be the parcel people. “Parcel people?” she asked. “ A mobile phone wouldn’t be any use here anyway, Bea” she added “There’s no network cover.”

      “My address?” Bea said into the telephone in an increasingly desperate voice. “Three people have called asking for my address” Bea took a deep breath and tried to change her energy. “My address is The House Down The Road Behind The Black Horse Bar” Bea paused for breath and continued “Through The Green Gates which are Behind The Fountain And Next To The Palm Tree. Tomorrow? You were supposed to come today! You were supposed to come yesterday as a matter of fact so I stayed home all day…”

      “You weren’t going out anywhere anyway, Bea” Leo said mildly.

      “Well I won’t be here tomorrow, can you just leave the parcel at the post office? What? Of course they’ll know who it’s for, it’ll have my bloody name and address on it! What? No, I don’t know what street the post office is on, haven’t you got a map? No? Well Google it! You’re kidding. You’re a parcel delivery company! What’s your name, by the way?”

      “Well would you believe it, she hung up on me!”

      “How wonderfully Spanish” said Leonora. “Remember the last parcel people? Wouldn’t deliver to houses without a number. So if I go out and paint a number, let’s say 57, on my gate, you’ll deliver the parcel, I said to them, and they said, well yes I suppose so, so I did. I went out to the shed and grabbed the first paint…”

      “That swimming pool blue”

      “…yeah bit bright isn’t it, that blue paint and I painted the number on it, and the neighbours came out and asked what I was doing…”

      “They delivered the parcel though, didn’t they Leo”

      “They did. There’s a knack to dealing with parcel people.”

      Bea was quiet for a few minutes and then asked “What’s that then?”

      “What’s what?” asked Leonora.

      “What’s the knack? How do you get parcel people to deliver?”

      Leo laughed and said she didn’t really know. “Change your energy, make a game of it, see what happens.”

      Just then the phone rang. Bea answered it.

      “Well how about that” said Bea, hanging up the phone a few moments later. “That was the parcel delivery man. He’s on his way now.”

      Five or six hours later, just after the parcel delivery man had finally arrived, Bea beamed as she opened the brown cardboard parcel.

      “I’ve been dying to read this, it’s the sequel to T’Eggy Gets a Good Rogering. I ordered two copies, I thought Baked Bean Barb might want one too, you know, as a bit of a thank you for the book she’s bringing round for us.”

      Leo said “You what!” and rolled her eyes. “Really Bea, couldn’t you have chosen something better than that?”

      “Define ‘better’, Miss Prim Prunes” retorted Bea. She was too happy about the books arrival to mind Leo’s remarks. Then she shouted “OH MY GOD! They’ve sent the wrong books!” so loudly that Leo jumped.

      “Good grief!” exclaimed Leonora, taking a closer look. “Circle of Eights! But that’s the book that Baked Bean Barb found on the rubbish tip, the book she’s bringing round for us!”

      “I don’t believe it!” Bea whispered, awed by the bizarre coincidence. “That’s the book with us in it.”

      “What a hoot!” said Leo.

      #2155

      In reply to: The Story So Far

      ÉricÉric
      Keymaster

        Tikfijikoo Island (continued)

        (see this comment for previous part)

        Mahiliki comes crashing down the island (with the pilot) having Veranassessee dumbfounded and speechless.

        Rafaela leads Paquita and Jose through their dreams into acceptance of their facial conditions, and out of the island’s experiments through a secret passageway underground.
        As well, Anita leads her parents away from the island, through a tunnel, thanks to the intervention of her favourite team of “invisible” essence friends. She bids Akita goodbye as he’s drawn to the impromptu fiesta by Mavis and tells him he shall see his spirit dog again.

        Meanwhile, Sha and Glo discover some strange hairiness side-effects to their absorption of honeycomb.

        [Fast forward a few weeks later.]

        Apparently Dory and young Becky who were going to Tikfijikoo discover the island is placed under quarantine.
        All clues indicate the vortex activities, cyclones, and mad spider experiments have put the international security at risk.

        Veranassessee is reporting the situation at the local headquarters of the Confregation (likely to be fired), while Mahiliki and the pilot are under scrutiny to check their stories…

        We find the three divas, Sharon, Gloria and Mavis with a little more hair, but not less slickness, in a military hospital on nearby Antarctica. Akita was brought there too, in solitary confinement because he pretends to be a WWII soldier and to be guided by a speaking dog (which is all real of course, but you never know). They soon plan to escape.

        Madame Chesterhope, who was unwillingly rescued on the submarine of captain Pavel is placed in some sort of detention.
        Meanwhile, Claude has visibly gotten back to Jarvis who had managed to get the crystal skull amidst the island’s confusion. They now both are on the submarine, toasting on the success of the operation of crystal skull’s retrieval.

        Balbina, an old lady living in the future timeline in Venezuela (same timeline as Anita and her parents) is moved to her son’s home, nearby old caves were she expects Anita and her parents may soon resurface.

        #1181

        “I told you, you shouldn’t have told them”
        “Shut up! You’re not even real, none of this is real…”
        “Well, I don’t know for you, but I feel real enough to be able to annoy you”

        Akita wasn’t sure if those hallucinations were due to the shock of the freezing temperatures of the Antarctica base, or to the medications they’d given them since the military troops had landed on the shores of that island to place it under strict quarantine. All of that was a bit fuzzy afterwards.

        He barely remembered how he’d been brought here. Someone had probably noticed the high energy vortexes occurring on the island, or perhaps someone in high places had been tipped about all the weird stuff that had occurred there. He couldn’t tell for sure.
        However, something strange had occurred. He had started to be able to see Kay, his spirit dog, reappear soon after.
        And that’s when everything started to go in a hellish downward spiral.
        Perhaps he shouldn’t have tried to convince the medics in the first place. Now he wasn’t so sure the dog wasn’t all but a figment of his imagination, which was all fine for him, but he had to know.

        “Has this… err… dog that you see speaking to you, has it ever told you anything you couldn’t have known yourself?” the medic had been asking him.
        That’s what had the doubts start to creep. Perhaps he was just another traumatized war veteran, like a few others, creating funny speaking critters in his mind to cope with the amount of trauma he went through. That would be quite possible.

        “Oh, come on Akita, you know I’m real, and everything we’ve gone through was real. Those friggin’ drugs they’ve given to you ain’t helpin’ you know”.

        Kay was right about that. He was slurring his words, and could barely stand on his own. They had to escape from here; real, unreal, it didn’t really matter; but he was sure of one thing; it wasn’t feeling good. Not feeling good in the least.

        “Kay?”
        “What?”
        “I suppose you got a plan, you sly dog?”

        #1177
        Jib
        Participant

          Yann was feeling a bit uncertain of what to do next. These past few days had been evolving in an unfamiliar direction and doing familiar things like going to work, eating at more or less fix hours (the same kind of food), and even checking the mail sitting on their sofa was feeling uncomfortable.
          Most of the time, if he continued focusing on what was happening in the outside world, he was feeling overwhelmed really quickly and things he was doing at that moment would kind of escape his control… the plates would fly over if he was washing the dishes, the tooth brush would hit his gums savagely if he was brushing his teeth… Not so gentle reminder in his opinion.
          Well, all of that was making him ponder about becoming completely insane in order to have an excuse of doing whatever he wanted at the moment he wanted…
          Too tired to proof read…
          :chomping:

          #1174

          Balbina had had a quite difficult week. Feeling cold, having trouble to find sleep, not even speaking of being unable to do the kind of out-of-body travel she had managed to do last time.
          She was almost starting to doubt she could redo it again.

          Of course, the relocation at her son’s cottage was a source of much change in her habits, and although he wasn’t at home most of time, she wasn’t really feeling like she was ‘at home’. Strangest thing really, as for the time she was at the hospice she wasn’t feeling as much an alien as in this cottage. At least, at the hospice, she was in a sort of neutral environment, some place where she wasn’t undesirable (would it be asking for too much to actually be desirable at her age?). Here, the environment wasn’t neutral at all; everywhere everything reminded her of her son: his books, the posters, even the dust on the coffee table was almost looking as though it was his own.

          So she had to adjust. Contort her energy to fit —to crumple herself!— into this place, as it would be likely she would spend quite some time here. She wasn’t asking for much really, as she wasn’t able to move from the bed he’d had installed in the spare room. Ghastly room, with a creepy wallpaper from a has-been era of the past days, year 2000 or close she’d guess, gaudy as it was… oriented to the south, with hardly bearable heat during the day. She would have loved to see the coast on the north, but instead, the only window was showing her the shade of the trees, and that ominous alligator-green mountain just behind.

          If she couldn’t project in her dreams as she managed to do before, she would soon either die of boredom or of heat. She wasn’t too sure which one would be the most painless and efficient.

          She pushed the button to have her bed roll a little closer to the window; once straightened up a bit, she was able to see the passageway to the mountain. She couldn’t explain why she didn’t like this mountain; it was quite beautiful; perhaps she feared to be lost and abandoned. All the more since she could feel so much presence in this environment. Unseen presence, and trickster ones too.

          She was tired, and yawned so much her tense jaw’s muscles ached.

          On the emerald path to the forest, a moving teal wisp of light caught her attention. Funny plays of light at this hour of the day. But the wisp was persistent, and it started to move towards her.

          “Good day Balbina!”

          The crazy rabbit was back again. And… she was sleeping? In or out?

          “In or out, smell my foot, it’s your choice, and matters not
          but be quick, and come forth, for Anita and her folks this wicked way come!”

          “The tune is set, the tunnel is close
          Of playfulness you’ll need a hefty dose”

          #1172

          After he sent his reply to Yann, Yurick took a deep breathe in appreciation of all that had been done the last past days.

          However tedious, all in all, it had allowed him to stay away from other people’s trauma, and stay focused on his own issues. Now, the feeling of the energy at hand was starting to become lighter. Like a thin ray of light poking through a thick layer of rainy clouds, announcing that the silver lining was more than just a consolation. It was announcing the sun to come.

          He took the book of stories that had been unburied (like his pleasure to write) from the bottom of the sofa’s cushions when they’d received hosts last week-end, and looked with amusement at the opening note about the “random quotes”.

          A strong sense of an inkling started to dawn at him.
          Thanks to the random quotes —or more appropriately said, to convenient synchronicities— “stuff” was never lost or buried in the insides of that ever-growing story, which was eating with gluttony at the edges of its expansion. Things were popping up here and there, reminding of old loose threads, or pertinent inclusions or links to be made.

          But there was more. He, for a long time, had thought that imagination was expanding things to make physical reality look smaller in proportion than it was. Like when they’d looked at Dory’s pictures, and everything looked so big on them. Even the mere thought of nine dogs was huge. But when they’d met her, and Dan, and the dogs, it was all so much smaller. Even seeing Dory manage her dogs made having nine dogs seem manageable.
          But the reverse was true: physical reality had its way of dwarfing imagination. Not so much making it smaller, but compacting it, making it fit in an unbelievably condensed and small space.

          Take that book. Thousands of words, billions of probabilities, endless threads and hundreds of characters, all packaged in a small stack of inked paper. The trick was that when you look at it that way, when you got that small stack of paper in your hands, it all seems so manageable; one starts to get accustomed to it, then fails to see the newness in it each time it’s opened to tell a story.

          Imagination is the true gauge of the vastness of the universe. It’s so easy to forget…

          #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.

            #1165

            on a Yukailli Airlines Flyboat, Cruise#557
            Long Pong vicinity, International Waters, October 2008

            “Ladies and gentlemen, this is your captain speaking. We are sorry to tell you that for unexpected reason, the flight has been rerouted to Auckland, New Zealand. Our final destination, Tikfijikoo Island is under strict quarantine for an unknown…

            — “WHAT?!” Dory was drawn out of her clouds contemplation by the voice of Ignoratio Elenchi
            — “Shhht!” Becky commanded her a bit rudely.

            Then, after the voice of the captain faded out in an incomprehensible muddle, “Oh, great! Now, we didn’t get what’s happening…”
            “Oh, as if we care for the reasons…” Dory said pragmatically. “Such a strange creating we did this time. I was so expecting to get to this island, and now it’s closed to tourists?”
            “Don’t worry, we may get there later… At least, this time we got to board on this strange airline, even if just for a round trip.”
            “Good point, Beck’!”

            Then, as if a sudden idea had just stuck her she added with a gleam in her eyes “Hey, that’s a really nice creating actually; we may be back home just in time for Day of the Dead celebrations…”

            Sometimes things seemed to work in cycles and round trips she thought to herself…

            #1162
            ÉricÉric
            Keymaster

              Rneyl ba na Bpgbore zbeavat. Gurer vf gur cebzvfr bs urng va gur fxl ohg sbe abj rirelguvat vf pbby naq fgvyy. Fur bcraf gur onpx qbbe bs gur pbggntr naq naq fvgf qbja pnershyyl ba gur jbbqra fgrc. Ure obql uhegf sebz gur avtug.

              V xvyy guvatf, fur guvaxf, fheirlvat gur qel oebja cynagf va gur fznyy tneqra fur unq gevrq gb perngr.

              Fur jbaqref vs gurer vf fbzrguvat gung jnagf gb pbzr gb yvsr vafvqr bs ure, gura uvqrf sebz gur gubhtug. Abg orpnhfr fur qbrf abg jnag vg, ohg orpnhfr fur vf nsenvq. Fur qbrf abg xabj ubj gb oevat guvf guvat gb yvsr. Gur fueviryyrq cynagf orne funec grfgvzbal gb ure snvyher…

              [ encoded in ROT13 ]

              “What is that?” she asks. “It doesn’t come from The Book, does it?”
              “Well, our best team of psychic archaeologists just got it retrieved from purported old discarded bits in the Crypt.”
              “of…? You mean… apocryphal part of The Book? Are you serious?”
              “Quite possible, you see. Do you know what’s the ancient meaning behind that word ‘apocryphal’?”
              “You tell me.”
              ‘those having been hidden away’… But the intricacy of this reality makes it possible for us, in the future of The Book, to re-insert it directly into the past.”
              “So they’re no longer ‘apocryphal’…”
              “You could look them up actually, and perhaps you’ll find even the part where they’re speaking about us finding it even…”

              :fleuron:

              — Aaaaalbert! You’re not ferreting again in my old discarded files, are you?
              — Err… No, of course not Tina.

              Al quickly changed the view on the cyputer and added with a hint of malice in his voice “You don’t have anything to hide from me anyway, isn’t it?”
              “Don’t be silly Al, and you’d better prepare yourself. We’ll be late for the big Hallowe’en party at the Father Chase Memorial Garden. Becky’s supposed to make an apparition at the party, remember.”
              “Becky? You mean… The Becky?”
              “Yeah… You’re so absent-minded sometimes sweetie, good thing you got me, Sumafi as you are. Yes, that old twaddle-speaking silly exotic Becky, the one and unique!”

              #1161

              Perhaps I was a bit hasty in firing dear old Bronkel, poondered Elizabeth with a twinge of guoolt. Sure, he was mad as Almad and obsessed with deadlines, but at least he didn’t do my head in with all this psycho-booble like Godfrey PigLittleton.

              She sighed, and cast her eyes towards Lemone’s quote of the day for the descending. All morning she had been pondering the implications of his words:

              Clarify certain aspects, and take responsibility for how your energy is displayed, and do not rely on the machine to do it.

              Do not rely on the machine! Of course, herein lay the answer to all her diloomnas! She had been relying far too heavily on the machine.

              Which one though?

              She strongly suspected the compooter but she also knew he was a tricky booger that Lemone. Always talking in riddles.

              #1160
              TracyTracy
              Participant

                broadcasting seeds of absurdity in the cornfields and the meadows of the hay hoo down dooly…” Baked Bean Barb opened the book at random again and read a few lines. It was an odd book for sure, but strangely compelling. You never knew what you’d find on rubbish tips. Baked Bean Barb liked the sound of that, broadcasting seeds of absurdity.

                #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, Godfrey” Elizabeth 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.

                #2030

                In reply to: Scrying the Word Cloud

                ÉricÉric
                Keymaster

                  Some selected bits from one tag cumulo-cloud:

                  — “Matter (is) dimensional energies realized”
                  — “Expect Hector (to) surface, Rafaela!”
                  — “Leonora gets (to) keep saying ‘play attention!’”
                  — “Close rain, friend magic, hope water seeing”
                  — “Far within thinking, Arona sort days, (her) hold gives human comments great meaning”
                  — “Soon blue seconds, call straight (at the) door, met surely physical; notice move (of) essence (in) fat huge dreams”
                  — “Universe appear (in) book story”
                  — “Malvina line although familiar answered busy funny heading”
                  — “Tina looked love taking lots question indeed”
                  — “Word usually working (in) short shifting pooh adventure”
                  — “Seems Armelle starting soft reason; strange perhaps (in the) middle (of) rolling help (one may) spot dragons’ truth past spider times”
                  — “‘Tell inside reality’: three words step (to) creating”
                  — “Becky, allow yourself finding single beautiful playing light, dear”
                  — “Cloud impulse shall house explain surprised black connection”
                  — “Cool trust(ed) friends, portal plane”
                  — “Aliens coincidence next talking”
                  — “Walking arms seem flight silence; stone creature sound already entered field (of) aware(ness); scene trip apparently given reading”
                  — “Beyond rolled Theresa, lately cave telling unusual morning”
                  — “Wortex large, merely Glo”

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