Daily Random Quote

  • “I still don’t know what we’re doing here, Glo. Azerbaijan in the middle of bloody winter?” “The nightlife, Sharon, the nightlife!” “So what do we do during the day, then? Besides freeze our ample tits off?” “Let’s have a cuppa somewhere and decide. I saw some lovely pastries in that cafe over there, come on.” ~~~ Sharon ... · ID #2972 (continued)
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  • #3451
    Jib
    Participant

      Oh I just remembered that when I was at the old shaman’s place, I used my cape as if I was the map dancer, put it on the floor and let it transform into the land and walked into it. I love this cape.

      #3450
      Jib
      Participant

        Accounts of the Journey to the Lower Realm

        Eric
        I was at a steppe first, like I was meditating in the desert, then went through a forest entrance, and stayed under a tree. There were lots of sounds and animals life, flapping wings sounds, deers, ants, but the most vivid presence was that of snake, and I was a bit suspicious, but it came back very gently, inviting, and after I recognized it, it made me journey, travelling like a dragon or feathered multicolored snake to an ancient place.
        The snake analogy with shedding old skin comes to mind, after accepting it, it makes a lot of sense.
        I saw green and purple at times.
        I felt a horse too but it was just a hooves’ sound.

        Flove
        I went through the entrance to a cave. I asked my power animal to come. An ancient tortoise came up to me. I asked if this was my power animal but i felt such love for the tortoise that i felt that was my answer. We explored energetically what the tortoise wisdom i need is. I put my hand around the tortoise neck and we swam in the water.
        I wanted to cry, I loved the tortoise energy so much. And the protection of the tortoise shell.
        I saw a snake.
        The horse was the first animal I felt, right as I went in the entrance. I stroked the horse as i went by.
        I saw a unicorn too, [and ]was surprised by the unicorn.
        I didn’t sense many creatures. just the horse, the snake and the unicorn.

        Jib
        First I saw little white skulls, whistling like the shells of the guy in the video.
        Then I become my shaman self and I have my magic cape. I find the entrance [to the lower realm,] which was kind of difficult at first as if there was some distracting energy.
        I finally enter the lower realm and find my horse right away, he’s very excited and I ride with him for some time, just for the pleasure of being with an old friend.
        Then I ask him to lead me to Abalone and show me whatever is interesting.
        He leads me to see an old shaman, man or woman I don’t know.
        The shaman makes me sit in his room and offers me tea, then tells me to relax and wait.
        So I relax and I begin to project to Abalone as the Giant beanstalk, I begin to grow and grow and grow and have the city built on top of me. I am the whole island.
        I have the impression that the beanstalk is in the center of Gazalbion or very close to it
        Then I come back to the place and have the impression the Shaman wants to delay me, so I say thanks and ask my horse to show me the rest.
        We go the the old Temple and I feel that there is something special there, once again he tells me to relax and just allow not look for things.
        So I wait and feel that the time and space is weird that it flows around the stones in a particular way, like when you follow a certain path or corridor, you may go forward in time and another way lead you back in time. If you take a wrong turn you can end up in a loop.
        Then the signal for the return begins, so I go back from where I come from and thank my horse.
        It was cool and fun to be there again.
        I projected at some point to check if everyone was ok, and felt like it was fine.
        I saw a unicorn too.

        Tracy
        That was interesting, about half way through a zebra started follwing me, well on my right. I saw all kinds of animals, but they were all doing their own thing or turned away, except for the zebra, until the change of tempo and then I was swept up in a flock of cranes I think (or herons or storks but I think cranes), but then the zebra was waiting at the top. I could feel his warm muzzle sort of on my right shoulder.
        First was a field full of unicorns on the left but they were just grazing, then a bison head who turned away, then the group of deer I thought, but the zebra walked over to me grazing. Me and the zebra waited for goats to cross our path.
        The feeling of being in amongst the cranes was amazing and the zebra fell back while that was happening, but then at the end he was waiting.
        I was surprised by the unicorns cos I don’t even think about them usually.
        There were lizards sucttlign around under the cranes.
        A couple of times I strongly saw purple and green, and thought of Jib.<i> not really ask [the zebra if he was the power animal] in words, but his presence calmly walking beside me with the feeling of his muzzle on my shoulder was comforting.
        When the cranes distracted me from him he fell back, but he was waiting at the top.
        The cranes feeling was marvelous, really, they were all flapping gracefully all around me on the ascent. So cranes and zebra stand out the most.
        [At some point] I started going down old stone steps, at first me and FP were kids holding hands, with jib and eric behind us, then I thought, wait, I’m supposed to be doing this alone.
        The unicorns in the very beginning were in a castle courtyard type place but they ignored me.
        Then a bison head who turned away these were in niches in the stone walls
        I ended up in a stalactites type cave, but there were mostly old old stone steps with stone walls along the sides.
        There was a crowd of people, well a small gathering, towards the bottom, but they were, er, faceless. Innocuous.
        I am quite amazed at how great that was! and how many creatures actually popped up
        and how the feeling was of the zebra and the cranes.
        The zebra was stoic and steadfast and comforting, the cranes were exhilarating and uplifting.</i>

        #3449

        The Master Builder’s verdict was hard to swallow.

        “Your Holiness?”

        The P’hope knew his options were limited, but somehow he had hoped, in spite of the King’s disappearance, in spite of the odds, that somehow he could manage to keep the City afloat.
        But the beanstalk’s wilting was not something that could be stopped, and the aphids were just one manifestation of the rampant symptoms. Like all living things, there was an expiry date, a deep-rooted belief in death that trumped all the efforts.
        The only thing they could do was to prepare for a difficult landing, and salvage what could be salvaged of his beautiful City of Karmalott.

        “Your Holiness?”

        “I heard you the first time, Downson.” The P’hope carefully removed his silver zucchetto and put it aside.
        “We need to prepare for evacuation. Have the Sentries prepare all the storks and cranes they can find. Send a detachment of Magi to secure an encampment at a safe landing spot. Then give orders to evacuate all the people you can.”

        “What about you, Your Holiness?” Downson’s question was likely to be pure formality, but Jube answered nonetheless

        “I’ll go to an ancient place, the source of power of this island. I wished I could avoid it, but if there is a glimmer of hope, it is my holy duty to follow it.”

        “Shall we send people to escort you?”

        “No, I would prefer to go there alone. It is the kind of powerful places one would prefer to visit alone than badly accompanied.”

        “Then, good luck to you.”

        “As well, Downson.”

        #3448
        Jib
        Participant

          First Journey ~ August 17th, 2014

          The drum will beat rhythmically for some time, more or less in the same way. Then when it’s time to go back it will stop do some slow drumming and accelerate the rhythm so you know it’s time to travel back from your journey.

          I propose to go to the lower realm and find your power animals.
          You can have a notebook or paper if you want to write stuffs, jot down words or make doodles, whatever works for you. You may just enjoy the meditation and do nothing in particular. Just allow the drum to carry you on this journey.

          To go to the lower realm, you first find the entrance, it may be a cave, a hole of some sort or a door in the basement, maybe an elevator going down.

          The lower realm is where you find the power animals. You can meet several of them, some will come and see you, and others won’t pay attention to you.
          You can call your power animal and see which one is coming, or ask the ones you meet if they are the one.
          Just trust yourself and don’t trust all they say, some are tricksters.
          Just ask if they are your power animal and if the answer is yes you’ll know it, even if it’s not with words.
          After that you can go with your power animal explore Abalone or whatever element of the story, just ask them to guide you and show you what you need to see.

          Jib
          Participant

            This thread is meant as an account to the journeys we do to explore the story thread.
            We’ll post the directions and our individual accounts.

            #3447

            Sadie tucked her legs up under her body and snuggled down into the large armchair in the lounge. Her wet hair was twisted in a towel; her skin smelled like tropical coconuts from the body butter she had slathered on after her shower.

            Just because no one can see me doesn’t mean I have to turn into a bag lady, Sadie told herself sternly.

            She turned the television on and the wall became alive with one of her favourite home makeover programmes—a series on portable home design. With the light building materials nowadays, it was pretty common to transport the frame of a house in a backpack, just printing out the additional materials to construct it as required. Sadie set the screen to view only—sometimes it was fun to interact with the programmes, but right now she needed to think.

            Her own home, built early last century in an industrial area which had long since been converted to residential housing, was sparsely furnished, but tastefully accessorised with soft colours and rich textures to give it a homely feel.

            I love to touch and feel things, she thought, stroking the mossy green velvet arm of the chair.

            In a world of so much clutter, her peaceful apartment was a haven of tranquility. She enjoyed silence, or maybe it was just that outside noises could so rudely interrupt the conversations going on in her head. Her boyfriend, Owen, an architect, was currently working on a big development project on Mars and not due back for at least another few months. So, other than when she was on a job, she had spent a lot of time alone lately.

            She felt bad about scaring poor old Finnley, remembering her wide and terrified eyes darting around the room before she took off out the door.

            She has probably gone to see that strange Elizabeth lady she works for. I hope they don’t think she is losing it and fire her.

            And still no word from Linda Pol. Sadie was philosophical.

            Being invisible wasn’t so bad.

            Not now that she had got over the initial shock. In fact, the possibilities were starting to seem rather intriguing.

            #3446

            “…you will find out that the island named Abalone has some unexpectedly aware people tucked away in secluded pockets of their own dreamlike experiences…”
            “Oooh, I like the sound of that one, Sha, and it looks like it’s got plenty of attractions and theme parks; we might get bored with the secluded pockets.” Gloria replied.

            #3445

            “It’s been years since we ‘ad a bloody ‘oliday Glor, fancy a nice vacation somewhere?”
            Sharon and Gloria were watching a documentary about changing landscapes ~ lakes appearing in the desert, islands emerging out of the sea, giant holes appearing in the tundra, rivers coursing along new and unexpected routes and other such things that were appearing with increasing regularity. So much so, in fact, that there was enough material to have a weekly programme on the topic. It was Gloria and Sharon’s favourite show, and they always made a point of sitting down together to watch it.
            “Oooh I dunno, Shar, me back’s always playing up these days, what if I ‘ad a bad turn in some foreign place miles from anywhere?”
            Sharon nodded in sympathy. “I know what you mean, it’s like me and my night turns. I have to get up in the night and eat ice cream and walk about a bit, bit awkward when you’re away.”
            “Like me and my stomach” piped up Mavis, poking her head round the door.
            “What oh, our Mavis! Didn’t ‘ear you come in. How about you, fancy an ‘oliday?”
            “Wouldn’t dare, not with my stomach, I have to have special foods, and what if I had a trapped wind while I was in a strange place with nowhere to go?”
            “Listen to us!” shouted Sharon, suddenly standing up and glaring at her friends. “Just listen to us, will yer? What’s become of us!”
            “Age?” asked Mavis drily.
            “Are we washed up then, over the hill, is that it, is it? Too old for a bloody holiday? Well, I tell you, I’m not done yet, oh no! I’m going on a holiday, even if I have to go on my own!”
            “Calm down, Sha, bit emotional, int yer?”
            Sharon sank down onto the sofa again, and replied quietly, “I been thinking about it a lot just lately. Wondering where my get up and go went. We used to do so much more!” She looked imploringly at her friends. “We was always off galivanting and ‘aving adventures.”
            “Yeah, and remember what you said after the last one? Never again?” Mavis reminded her.
            “I think she’s right,” Gloria piped up. “I think we should give it a go. What’s the worst thing that could ‘appen? And what difference does it make where it ‘appens?”

            #3444

            In an effort to shake off the troubling feelings that lingered long after she awoke, Mirabelle went to find Jack to tell him about her dream. She found him hunched over his computer, frowning.
            “Ah, Mirabelle, pull up a chair and let me tell you about the strange dream I had last night.”
            Intrigued, Mirabelle listened, saving her story until after he had finished relating his.
            “There are too many coincidences for this to not mean something ~ something important. The parallels are everywhere! Look!” he said pointing to the screen.
            “Crumbling cities, structures smashed to smithereens and clouds of dust, facades of houses blown off revealing ordinary objects and furnishings in hideous juxtapositions, and crazy angles. And look here” he said, “ nothing as far as the eye can see but rubble, but one wall left standing, almost intact, with the map still hanging on the wall.”
            Jack turned to Lisa with a tear in his eye, and with a shaking voice he said, “I dreamed of a city like this last night, with all the facades blown off the constructs, and all the people were faceless as if they were wearing masks, but no! not like masks, there were empty holes where the faces had been, like bottomless black holes that made me dizzy to look at them.”
            “But it was just a dream Jack” replied Mirabelle, wondering if she was reassuring Jack or herself. “It doesn’t mean anything, probably that cheese you had for supper.”
            “Lisa was in the dream” Jack replied. “And Ivan, and Fanella.”
            Mirabelle shivered. “They’ve been gone a long time, do you think something’s happened to them?” she paused and then added, “I had a disturbing dream too. It was my parrot, HuHu. He was calling me, oh! he was calling and calling, but I couldn’t see him in the fog, as I tried to follow the sound of his squalking in the swirling mist, I’d hear him behind me ~ no matter which way I turned he was always behind me, as if I was always facing the wrong way.”
            “Well” said Jack, squaring his shoulders. “Faced with these two dreams, and with the delayed return of Lisa, Ivan and Fanella, I think we should face up to it and send a search party to the island. Now, enough of that long face, Mirabelle! Run along now and find Igor, and tell him to prepare for teleporting. He can go with you.”

            #3443

            “I found it!” shouted Pseu. “This is the tile I’ve been looking for! The Golden Portal Tile, what a miracle that this wasn’t destroyed!”
            “Well thank fuck for that” replied Lisa, wiping the sweat off her brow. “Can we go now? How far is it to the old temple and how are we going to get there?”
            Pseu clasped the tile to her chest. Beaming with pleasure, she ignored Lisa’s question.
            “If I might offer a suggestion,” said Lazuli Galore, “The overland route is a minefield of dangers, what with the current situation with the beanstalk and the bog. It would make more sense to head south immediately to the coast, and travel by sea into the heart of the Bay of Beliefs. Once we reach the extreme innermost coast of the Bay, it’s just a short journey to the Old Temple.”
            “Good idea!” said Sanso, affectionately slapping Lazuli on the ass.

            #3442

            The P’hope could be seen everywhere: leading the Builders to work double shifts to strengthen the collapsing structures of the flying City, exhorting the Magi to contain the failing beliefs of people back to virtuous resilience by ways of special masses held throughout Karmalott, and ensuring with the Sentries that all tremors of civil unrest was properly contained and the ring leaders properly admonished into good conduct.

            The situation at the secret political prison known as Gazalbion was alarming. With most of the dangerous interlopers free to roam Abalone, and no walls to contain new prisoners, it could take a while to rebuild its walls, and the P’hope didn’t have the luxury of time on his side. It meant that no civil and belief dissidents could be brought there at the moment, and any spark of disobedience could spread like wildfire.

            The P’hope dreaded what could happen if, despite all the efforts, the beanstalk was beyond repair. He knew his faltering belief in it could only hasten its fate, but even so, he wanted to be ready for the worst.
            Considering the limited amount of rescue storks which were available off the walls of the city, it was likely that the result would be of apocalyptic proportion. Nevertheless, he refused to consider evacuating for the moment, even knowing it would take days for those on foot to climb down the bean’s tendrils.
            Especially, as he was now in the perfect position to be the hero of the day.

            He had been robbed of his share of light many, many years ago.
            At the time, a young boy had arrived from the sea and from an outside world to Abalone. Jube, who was not yet the P’hope, was a striving leader of a group of survivors of the island. The bog’s dangerous and foggy emanations and its wild life were a threat of all instants, and he had soon realized there was strength in numbers. Many lost souls had gathered, but didn’t have the strength on their own to remain focused on a reality they wanted, a dream made reality.

            He, Jube the Brave, had such strength in himself. But even so, they were only less than a few dozens of men and women in the camp, and the reach of what they could create was only good enough to sustain them for short periods of time.

            But the boy named George had arrived from afar, and things had changed gradually. Jube had found out pretty quickly that the boy had the great potential to bring people together, and hold their beliefs like a mighty rope made of the thinnest of strands of hair. So he had offered to mentor him, while at the same time working his words into suggestions, and shaping the boy’s future to fit his own dreams.

            That’s how the beanstalk started. The first sprouts were so tiny and frail, but the more people came and believed in the leadership of the one who was to become their King, the more it grew, and lifted them above the clouds and the fog of their minds.
            Years had passed, Prince George became King Artie as another suggestion of the P’hope which had the side-effect to cloak Artie from his memories. The P’hope grew in power, always in the shadows however.

            For a while, people were happy. Truly happy. But progress was inevitable, consciousness had to move and grow, otherwise their dream of a City would have been another foggy and soul-numbing projection of their feeble minds.

            The first real threat happened when Abalone, in one of its inexplicable changes of time and space, drew to them a stranger. True to their principles, they had welcomed her, nursed her, and given her a place of choice in the Magi’s ranks despite her young age. But she could see clearly between the cracks and the varnish of order. Worse, she could see the P’hope’s intentions were not so pure.

            So it become soon apparent to Jube that the young Gwinie had to disappear, and her followers had to be contained. For the sake of the great Karmalott, and to shield everyone from the impending chaos, the same chaos they had came from victorious many years ago.

            He and his minions had struck in a very swift and coordinated movement. Gwinie was tragically lost in the bog during her rite of passage. A truce was arranged with her followers, and they were allowed a concession, with enough resources to survive. They ultimately built Gazalbion, which also became, in a mutual arrangement, a political prison for Karmalott, unknown to virtually everyone in the City. The Processor, one of Gwinie’s former followers, was glad to receive prisoners who would add to the strength and mass beliefs of his encampment. The P’hope in return, was glad to be rid of difficult problems.

            That was so long ago, but it rang like a warning from no further than yesterday.

            They had never found out what the old temple’s ruins were for, or by which civilization before them they were built. They were as old as the island itself, and seemed to be doomed, full of an ominous power he couldn’t and feared to harness. If anything else failed, he would go back there. Maybe that was his only solution.

            #3441

            Dark clouds had gathered in the sky, the temperature had dropped of several degrees, making the breeze feel colder. The group had been walking for hours in the bog toward the elusive temple. With the darkness of the clouds, its mirage had begun to fade away. Greenie had said they’d better stop when the image was gone because they could become lost.

            They had managed to make a wet campfire, and were trying to get warmth from the fleeting flames.
            “I had a strange dream last night”, said George to Arona who was sitting next to him.
            She smiled politely, not sure she wanted to hear about the winged man dreams. She considered standing up and being rude.
            “I was a teenager”, he continued, wrapping himself into his wings.
            Arona rolled her eyes inwardly, looking around for help. Mandrake was sleeping under her cape.
            “An island appeared one day on the coast, people thought it was an ancient magic island and feared to approach it. It was visible only for a couple of days. It was such a weird dream.”
            “Maybe you should write it down”, said Arona.
            “Oh! Probably not, if the P’hope gets hold of it, I have the feeling it’s not in my interest.” He grinned like a kid. “Anyway, I knew in the dream that the island was still there, it was still reachable. So one day I took my father’s boat. It was a small boat, not made to go too far from the coastline. I didn’t know, and I didn’t care. I went into the mist, completely trusting I would find this island that everybody feared. It was rising tide, and I had to fight the current pushing me to the shore. I think it’s a dream who brought me there, a dream of a girl calling me in a garden. George
            “Is that all?” asked Arona after a moment of silence from George.
            “Yes, it’s most certainly a silly dream, I’ve lived in Karmalott my entire life.”
            “You’ll have to work on your dream telling, pal”, said Mandrake, “the punchline is missing.”

            Nobody noticed how the flames of the fire were dancing into the green girl’s eyes.

            #3440
            TracyTracy
            Participant

              “If only they realized it was for their own good” thought Anna Purrna, not for the first time. “They tie themselves in knots all the time with ropes of their own making and beat themselves senseless with canes of their own dictates ~ and then rail against the reflections, and I get the blame”.
              It wasn’t easy playing the roles of victim and dictator simultaneously.

              #3439
              TracyTracy
              Participant

                “Finnley, you’re late again” admonished Elizabeth. “And you look tired”.
                “It’s complicated” Finnley said. “It’s my other job, it’s hard to explain.”
                “Well if you’re too old to hold down two jobs, Finnley, perhaps you should give one of them up.”
                “Are you firing me?” asked Finnley in astonishment.
                It was Elizabeth’s turn to be astonished. “Certainly not! That’s not what I meant at all!”

                #3438

                A man on a donkey making his way through the dust and rubble of the crumbling city elicited no attention, it was a common sight that attracted no attention. Sanso covered his hair and face with a blue shawl, more to keep the acrid cement dust out of his eyes that for purposes of concealment.
                The destruction was appalling, but wonderfully symbolic ~ there were buildings still standing like lone sentinels amid the piles of smashed grey blocks and mangled steel girders, but the huge gaps where the great wall had been allowed a view of the rolling plain beyond. The heat shimmered across the golden dry vegetation, silver grey olive trees gnarled haphazardly on the gentle slopes, and far off a milky haze rose above the distant sea.
                The donkey picked his way nimbly though the wreckage, scurrying figures clutching babies and assorted items rushed towards the holes in the perimeter wall, where the ragtaggle crowds fanned out as they ran through to the other side, as wild shouts of jubilation ~ as well as plaintive cries for loved ones lost in the chaos ~ ricocheted through the gutted buildings.
                The donkey stopped at a site of devastation indistinguishable from all the others, and indicated to Sanso by bucking him off his back that this was the ruined tile factory, and then Lazuli shapeshifted back into his usual human form ~ short but stocky, black haired and brown eyed, with eyebrows that met in the middle ~ for ease of communication.
                “Over there, look!” Lazuli pointed to wisps of dust rising from a depression in the rubble.
                Shading his eyes from the glare of the sun, Sanso could make out four bent figures searching the debris, pulling out stones and tossing them aside, evidently searching for something.
                “Fanella! I have come back for you!” Sanso cried, stumbling and banging his shins as he rushed over to her.
                “And I have come for you too!” added Lazuli, following Sanso, and hoping to make a favourable impression on the girl, smitten with her long golden hair, elfin features and slender body.
                “About bloody time, Sanso” said Lisa tartly, easing her aching back into an upright position. “You may as make yourself useful, and help Pseu find the tile she’s looking for and then we can get out of this godforsaken hellhole. Jack will be wondering where we are.”

                #3437
                Jib
                Participant

                  The Map of Abalone as seen in the artichoke dried juice.

                  #3435

                  “You know, you look like a nice guy”, said Lazuli Galore, “Not that I’m of that sort, you know what I mean, I’m not into men and anything.”
                  “Of course”, said Sanso taking another sip of his beer. He wasn’t sure about what the man was referring to, it didn’t really matter. He had had at least seven beers and the world around him just began to take that characteristic blur, which was kind of nice. The words of the man were like colorful flies buzzing around in an bubbly way.
                  “You know”, continued his new friend, “they have rooms upstairs, maybe we can visit them. I’ve heard each room were decorated according to different love songs… not that I’m a sissy or anything of the sort, of course.”
                  “Of course”, said Sanso automatically. “Are we shagging now or when you are finished to talk ?”
                  Lazuli gaped and stood up. They went upstairs and from the courtyard one could hear “Don’t look me in the eyes” or “I’m not a sissy!” “No you’re not, little slut”.

                  #3434

                  Sadie soothed herself. It has only been 2 days. Get a grip. Your hair won’t smell yet.

                  She wondered whether to speak—the longing to confide in someone was almost overwhelming— and she followed Finnley, trying to pluck up courage. Not only would it be breaking protocol to give away any details of her recent mission, more importantly, she did not want to frighten the elderly woman. Instinctively Sadie knew that if there was anyone she could trust it would be Finnley, who had been through so much in her own life and surely, innately perhaps, understood and accepted those things outside the established norm.

                  “Finnley.” she spoke softly. “It is me, Sadie. I am not sure how to … I am here, but you can’t see me. Please don’t be frightened. Let me explain. It will make sense …. well sort of.”

                  it will make sense?

                  “Sadie? Where are you? What’s going on?” Finnley’s frail voice faltered and Sadie wished she could reach out and reassure her.

                  “Maybe you should sit down.”

                  #3433

                  Cheung Lok felt himself fall suddenly with nothing to hold on to, when the elephant he was riding suddenly shrank to human size knocking him down to the ground, partly unconscious after the event.
                  This Sanso, sure is 麻烦 [¹]. I must to start to believe harder in my luck was his thought before he lost consciousness.

                  On the other side of Sanso, a strange man with a turban was struggling with a bizarre striped dog-sized sea cucumber with teeth. Meanwhile, his target, Sanso seemed to leave back to the encampment’s ruins with… his elephant turned… something else.

                  That was all he could remember when he woke up a few minutes later and wondered what had happened and how Sanso could have slipped away again.
                  Noticing how he was tracking a man that seemed to make a point at having no discernible pattern, the realization came in a flash of blinding certainty that Sanso knew probably nothing at all about Irina, and surely didn’t care at all about warning her. In other words, Cheung Lok was on his own, and the painful clarity was soothed in equal measure by the other realization that he could let go of this 王八蛋².

                  Looking around, he noticed the guy with the turban still struggle with the appetizing stripped sea cucumber.
                  “Hold steady pal, I’ll ezap that bugger.”
                  The other who had turned almost purple took a series of short breaths when he was released from the monster. “Thanks mate, those things are my bane.”
                  “No need to thank me, I’ll deep-fry it for us later. Care to join?”
                  “Hell why not. Name’s Berberus by the way. And you shouldn’t trust elephants here. It is known.”
                  “Thanks for the tip, pal. Cheung Lok.”
                  “You’re going back after Sanso?”
                  “No, it’s pointless, I just happened to find him on my way to a series of turbulences on the island and couldn’t pass the opportunity, but that one is more slippery than a wet snail during monsoon.”
                  “What is monsoon?” Berberus asked perplexed by the yellow faced man with the strange accent.
                  “Don’t you mind that. Shall we go?”

                  ___

                  [¹] 麻烦 máfan in Chinese, can be roughly translated as ‘irritating piece of hemp’, meaning being trouble or vexatious —or some may argue, in this case, unbelievably lucky and difficult to keep track of, in a continuous way or any other way.

                  [²] 王八蛋 wángbā dàn : “The King’s eighth egg”, a colourful Chinese way of insulting people, meaning roughly “bastard”.

                  #3432

                  Laughter bubbled forth despite the mayhem. Sanso found the sight of the slug wrapped around the hook legged ones face outrageously funny; as he paused to gasp for air in between guffaws, he realized he wasn’t the only one laughing. Wiping the tears from his eyes while trying unsuccessfully to stop laughing and focus on the situation, a fellow next to him slapped him on the back, saying “Oh my, that was funny. And richly deserved too, I never liked him. I could tell you a tale or two about him! Lazuli Galore” he said, introducing himself and shaking Sanso’s hand. “Delighted to meet you. Now, I know what you’re thinking, but things have changed, and how rapidly! I had no idea my wishes would be granted so soon. Come on, let’s go get a beer and I’ll explain.”
                  Lazuli Galore continued his explanations a few minutes later, in the deserted courtyard of a small shabby bar.
                  “I’ve been fed up with my job for months,” he said, “It was fun at first, and don’t get me wrong, I enjoy the excitement ~ shapeshifting, hunting down the settlers and rounding them up, all good stuff and a heap of fun. A lot more fun than working in the processing department, that’s for sure!”
                  Sanso murmured something vague by way of encouragement, and ordered another beer.
                  Lazuli continued, “But then I started noticing something. Most of the settlers seemed like nice people, unlike the management of this place ~ that’s management with a small m, by the way ~ take the last batch for example ~ that girl was the bees knees, cor! she was lovely. I don’t mean the old trout with her, the young one I mean. Felt real sorry to round her up, I did. But what could I do? If I hadn’t rounded them up, one of my colleagues would have done. But now, with the walls collapsing, I’d be out of a job anyway soon, so why not seize the day!”
                  “Hear! Hear!” replied Sanso, clinking his beer glass with Lazuli’s. “We need to talk.”

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                • “I still don’t know what we’re doing here, Glo. Azerbaijan in the middle of bloody winter?” “The nightlife, Sharon, the nightlife!” “So what do we do during the day, then? Besides freeze our ample tits off?” “Let’s have a cuppa somewhere and decide. I saw some lovely pastries in that cafe over there, come on.” ~~~ Sharon ... · ID #2972 (continued)
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