Daily Random Quote

  • “Tina, I did not say that huffily!” Becky retorted. ... · ID #2312 (continued)
    (next in 15h 12min…)

Latest Activity

Search Results for 'al'

Forums Search Search Results for 'al'

Viewing 20 results - 1,061 through 1,080 (of 4,853 total)
  • Author
    Search Results
  • #5606
    TracyTracy
    Participant

      Aunt Idle:

      I wish now that I’d had the sense to open the letter in private. I can’t imagine why I didn’t think of that, but I didn’t. I tried not to make a drama out of it, I didn’t make an announcement or anything. One morning after breakfast I untied the string and opened the letter. It wasn’t any of the things I had expected.  Clearly printed in large capital letters at the top was written DON’T TELL MATER.

      Quickly I folded it over, dropping it discreetly into my lap under the table.   “Any more nettle tea in the pot, Bert?” I asked and feigned a casual yawn.

      “Well?” asked Mater.

      “Well what?” I asked.

      “I can read you like a book,” she said, to which I replied hotly, “Well then I won’t need to write one, will I.”

      “What did the letter say?” she pressed on.

      “What letter?” I said

      “For crying out loud!” she said.

      “Pass your cup then,” said Bert, giving me a piercing look. Over the top of Mater’s head he mouthed a word, with a questioning look. I’ve never been any good at lip reading, but it looked like he was trying to say Jasper.

      “Who?” I mouthed back, but Mater saw me, so I pretended I had a bit of nettle stuck between my teeth.

      “For crying out loud,”  Mater said again which elicited an exasperated remark from Bert about broken records, open books, unread letters and lost marbles.

      #5604
      ÉricÉric
      Keymaster

        “That trip of yours was surprisingly, or must I say, suspiciously long…” Lucinda gave them both a long glance full of innuendos, and added in case those were missed “where you on a honeymoon or something?”

        Shawn-Paul blushed to a shade of violent violet cramoisi, while Maeve just snatched her dog’s leash that Lucinda was handing her back rather nonchalantly.

        “Oh, you, will you just wipe the snark from your face, it’s making you look ten years older Luce. It wasn’t really a holiday if you must know everything.” She elbowed Shawn-Paul, who was looking vacantly at the tip of his shoes. “Why don’t you tell her?”

        “Why don’t you tell her?” he replied automatically.

        “It’s just been 6 months! Why do you make such a fuss about it?”

        “I’m not making a fuss, look who’s cranky! I can see you are venting your spleen on me after a sleepless night in the plane…”

        “Haha, yes”, Maeve admitted with a nervous chuckle. “The only thing that matters is we managed to collect the dolls and the keys, just don’t ask me how.”

        “You know I’ll ask.”

        “Yes, I know. Just… don’t.”

        “Fair enough. But it might be tough for me not to ask. I may forget… Besides, I must ask, do you have a secret benefactor that’s funding you all this time? Fabio’s kibble didn’t come free you know, you left me with barely enough for a week!”

        “Oh really? Dog’s kibble now? Let me make you a check right now.”

        “I think you need a good night of sleep.” Lucinda winked at Shawn-Paul, “him too. And we’ll talk later. I have tons of things to update you about my theater writing group. You might help me with the continuity bits… Waaa, calm down, no pressure!”

        #5602
        Jib
        Participant

          Mr August Finest

          August was born in Timboocto, California in 1975. He’s a Black veteran, well-spoken, and comes from a wealthy family from Philadelphia.

          Before he became chief of staff for the Beige House, he shunned a promising lawyer and political career which his family wanted for him, and enlisted in 2001. He served multiple tours in Iraq and Afghanistan, and got decorated for bravery. However, this life is now behind him, and he prefers to focus on his duties as chief of staff. His deep respect for chain of command prevents him from commenting on his likes or dislikes of the current President, which makes him see the good in unlikely situations.

          In his free time, he collects golf balls and pewter memorabilia from the Civil War.

          #5600
          TracyTracy
          Participant

            June

            June was born in Glasgow, Kentucky in 1957. Her real name is not known yet. She comes from a military family who used to move around a lot, hence, never really felt home in any place, and kept largely her distances with relatives. At a young age of 17 (1974), she eloped with her then fiancé and did a tour of the USA on a shoestring, aiming to stow away on a Californian ship to reach Hawaii. We find her years later, happily divorced, and sought in 5 states for various charges, primarily identity theft and credit card fraud. A chance encounter with April led her to her next scam: registering as an experienced nanny “au pair”, coming from Glasgow, Scotland. She didn’t manage to stay too long at her employs, yet a fortunate event led her to apply and be selected for the nursing of the President’s precocious baby. She loathes all that the President represents, but likes a challenge, and the irony of being a wanted con-artist on the run under the nose of the Secret Services.

            #5599
            ÉricÉric
            Keymaster

              Norma (real name Noor Mary Chowdhury)

              She was born in 1983 Bombay, New York from a family of devout Indian Catholics. Her name “Noor” means “Light”, but she had it legally changed to Norma, her usual nickname, after the attacks of 2001, to avoid snide remarks or suspicion. As a child, she wanted to become a nun. At barely 18, shortly after 9-11, she ran away from an arranged marriage and never looked back. By juggling multiple low pay jobs, she managed to get enrolled in University and obtained a PhD in Social Studies. She then gave up a promising teaching career for a life of service. She landed a job at the Beige House during the previous President’s tenure, and despite her dislike of the new tenant, she kept her job, and is very proud of maintaining a high standard. As we know, she is still single.

              #5598
              prUneprUne
              Participant

                Mater, already centenarian! I didn’t even realize how time flies.

                We’ll have to organize a big party; I know she isn’t fond of those big sappy reunions, but it’s not every day you turn 100.

                Forget about flying her to some place, we’ll have no choice but to return to the Inn, all of us. Good thing we have time to plan. Mater being a 🦁 Leo and all, we still have until next winter down under.

                #5597

                It’s taking blimmin forever for the Oober to get here, and, wouldn’t you just know it, rain!

                “Hop in,” says the driver. He’s leaning over holding open the front door. An older chappie with a shiny forehead and rosacea. He definitely drinks. Maybe he’s come straight from the pub. Still, it’s raining and I’m late, so I hop in. In the back seat, mind. I’m not much of a one for talking.

                “I’m Finnley.” I crack a smile to make up for sitting in the back. It feels strange smiling. In my mind, there’s not much point to smiling. It just encourages people to be overly familiar.

                “Bert,” he says. He’s Australian I think from the accent and his expression is more of a sneer than a smile. I reckon I pissed him off not getting in the front seat.  “F i n n l e y.” He sounds it out like he’s learning a new language. “Always thought that was a boy’s name?”

                “Can be either.”

                Do I look like a boy, Bert? 

                Anyhow, that’s enough chitchat for me. I get my phone out and make like I am checking for messages. Haha. As if.

                “Here on holiday, Finnley? Pity about the weather.”

                Oh here we go.

                “A job.”

                “Oh yeah, corker! Where’s that, Finnley?”

                “Washingtown Beige House, Bert.”

                I have to be honest, saying it out loud still gives me goosebumps. And Bert’s surprise doesn’t disappoint.

                #5596
                F LoveF Love
                Participant

                  Mater

                  I told Prune how I couldn’t follow these internet link thingies everyone’s so fond of. Didn’t grow up with computers I guess; it was all letters in my day. I said to Prune, “Will you just tell me who Jasper is, for crying out loud?” Cheeky begger told me not to worry about it and would I like a cuppa? Then she asked how old am I! “I was born in 1935,” I told her. “You do the bleedin’ maths!”

                  Anyway, Dodo is still carrying on about the letter. It worries me. Better not tell young Prune that. Haha.

                  I wish I knew who Jasper was though. Feels like it is something I should remember. I’ll have to remember to ask Prune again.

                  #5595
                  TracyTracy
                  Participant

                    “I’m keeping you up,” said Norma, yawning. “Thanks for listening. And for the wine.”

                    “Oh you weren’t whining really, well not much. Oh! I see what you mean,” replied May.  “Say, where’s that kid got to? Norma, help me find the kid!”

                    But it was too late. Norma had gone. And so had the child she was supposed to be babysitting.

                    May’s intention to search for it as a matter of urgency was abruptly sidelined by the supreme urgency of a visit to the nearest lavatory.  It was a peculiar child anyway, May thought, and if it had been hers, she no doubt wouldn’t have minded being rid of it, no questions asked.  But it would be embarrassing to admit that she’d failed: not just the failure to look after the child, but failed to kidnap it either, and that she had simply lost it instead.

                    #5594
                    prUneprUne
                    Participant

                      I’ve been checking old records those past few days. Yes, I know, not much ever happens, and I’ve got a lot of time on my hands between my studies. Anyway, I read something rather odd about a bit of rare magic… Sorry, getting carried away again, I mean, I found a passing mention of Jasper.

                      Guess, the letter is about our long lost brother that nobody ever mentioned. My sisters, with all of their flaws, which I don’t hate them for, have a keen sense of investigation. Must be in the genes, though it may have skipped over Aunt Dodo.

                      That, or they have just sent a copy of the Boynitch manuscript to sent her into a spin, that wouldn’t be a first.

                      #5593
                      ÉricÉric
                      Keymaster

                        Was trying to get a basic timeline in place for future reference:

                        • (1935) Birth of Mater
                        • (1958) Mater marries her childhood sweetheart (ref)
                        • (1965) Birth of Fred
                        • (1970) Birth of Aunt Idle
                        • (1978) April 12th, Mater’s husband dies
                        • (1998) Birth of Devan
                        • (2000) Birth of the twins Coriander & Clove
                        • (2008) Birth of Prune
                        • (2014) Start of Prune’s journal about the Inn (she’s 6 at the time – ref)
                        • (2017) visit of Arona, Albie, Maeve, Hilda, Sanso etc. to the Inn
                        • (2020) The year of the Great Fires (ref). Mater is 85. Idle is 50. The twins are 20. Prune is 12.
                        • (2027) First settlers on Mars; Prune’s left for a boarding school to pursue her dreams

                        Fast forward 15 years later

                        • (2035) Idle receives news from the twins (now aged 35) & waterlark adventures.
                          Mater is alive and kicking at 100.

                        Fast forward a little more

                        • (2049) Prune arrives with a commercial flight on Mars, having won a place through a reality show.
                          Mater is deceased. She would have been 114.
                          Little after, the Mars mission is revealed to be an elaborately constructed mass illusion, and the program is terminated via an alien invasion simulation; like the other survivors from the program, she returns to Australia but cannot reveal the details of the program.
                        #5590

                        His trip had changed him, Rukshan realized. He doubted it at first, don’t all journeys change the traveller?

                        This one had been peculiar, his life had never felt more on the line. Now, even the feeling of this place he now called a home was contrasting.

                        He wasn’t despondent, but he wasn’t sure where to focus his energy now. The World outside didn’t lack causes to fight for; that much was a given. The Great Fires in the South had taken a toll on the Austral Dry Lands and started to menace the Great Forest borders. The Heartswood would be safe for now, but with the villagers’ rampant deforestation, what would be next? He was glad to hear that Eleri & Hasamelis were not short of ideas and clever contraptions to tackle the matter.

                        Yet, his cause was not this one, though it did stir his heart with sadness and longing.

                        Tak and Nesy had come back from school. He was glad to see them so full of life and well-adjusted. Nesy was coming into her powers, even if they stemmed from a dark place, she’d found ways to use them gracefully, listening to nature. For one, Eleri had seen early the appeal of using Nesingwarys’ fear-inducing power to shroud the place and repel Leroway and his thugs. Nesy didn’t like too much to use her powers that way. It would also affect the birds and it made Glynis sad that the place was so silent at times.

                        For now, both were pleased to join the team and the little Snoots towards the effort at rebuilding Gorrash.
                        All were focused on finding a way to get enough pink clay. They’d started to realize that there was not enough stock left around, and the main supply source was from the now scorched & sooty Austral lands.

                        This was a good cause for now.

                        #5589

                        Barron was not really a baby, more a toddler already. He was playing alone in his play fence, like he was usually left doing when his odd caretakers had gone for an escapade. After a while, he got bored cooing like a baby looking at shiny stuff and suckling at noisy things. After all, as not many had realized, he was blessed with a genius IQ — there was no point at hiding his smarts when no one was around.

                        The house bulldog was sleeping nearby, snoozing like a roaring motorbike. Apart from that, this part of the House was quiet. Occasionally he could hear gurgling sounds coming from the badly soundproofed pipes of the old building. Somebody was having an industrious bowel movement. Hardly news material, his father would have say.

                        He checked the e-zapwatch that his nannies had put on his wrist. Bad news. His kidnappers were late. He wondered if something had changed in the near perfect plan. Yet, he’d managed to have the money wired to the offshore account, while his contacts, codenames Jesús & Araceli (he wasn’t sure they were codenames at all) said it was in order for the baby abduction.

                        He could hear suspicious sounds outside; the bulldog barely registered. What if some acolytes in the plan had bailed out? The sounds at his bedroom’s window could be his abductors, waiting for a way in.

                        As usual, he would have to take matters in his own tiny hands, and let others get the credit for it.

                        He peeled off one side of the net and tumbled outside of the playpen. Damn, these bodies were so difficult to manœuvre at times. Reaching the window would be difficult but not impossible. After dragging a chair, and a pile of cushions, he hoisted himself finally at reach of the latch, and flung it open. The brisk cold air from outside made his nose itch, and it was the last thing he remembered while he smelled the chloroform.

                        #5585
                        TracyTracy
                        Participant

                          Aunt Idle:

                          The more they hounded me to open the letter, the less I wanted to.  I just wanted to dig my heels in at first, honestly when nothing ever happens for months and years on end, any little thing out of the ordinary is worth making a meal of.  But the longer it went on, the more uneasy I got. What if it was disappointing, somehow?  What if there was bad news, or news we didn’t want to hear that we wouldn’t be able to unhear, once we knew?  What if it was none of those things and just a few scribbles the child had done, or a hand print? It was like opening a Christmas present with a dozen people looking at your reaction when you open it. What if it was something that didn’t tell you anything? Maybe something quickly tied together in a rush with no particular meaning? Of course that would be a treasure to receive, what with communications being so non existent, but still, it would be an anti climax after all this anticipation.  What I wanted, I realized, was the complete story of everything that had happened since we last saw them. I wanted to know all about it.

                          #5584
                          TracyTracy
                          Participant

                            May quickly realized that she hadn’t planned this out properly at all. While Norma was fishing in her handbag for paper tissues, May switched the glasses of wine, so that she had the one with the laxatives herself. It wasn’t fair to inflict that on Norma, who was already verging on distraught. And May was feeling bloated anyway. A good clear out wouldn’t do her any harm.

                            May listened with genuine sympathy to Norma’s distress at being mistreated, but a glance at the kitchen clock prompted her to interrupt.

                            “Gotta go to the john,” she said, wondering if she had the vernacular right. She had almost said “must pop to the loo”, but that was the kind of lingo she used on the previous mission.  She had to send her finance a message. The rendezvous with the spinach pot was off.  Closing the bathroom door behind her, she reached for her phone and tapped the coded message.

                            iggi nefa san forlik snoodetta

                            Almost immediately there was a reply. No coded message this time, it was just a rolling eyes icon.  May sighed with relief. What had she been thinking to plan such a thing, on such short notice?

                            Norma watched May leave the room, a little frown furrowing her brow. She couldn’t put her finger on it, but she felt uneasy. May was acting guilty. Why? Without even knowing why she did it, she swapped her wine glass for the other one.  Immediately feeling appalled at such a silly impulse, she reached to swap them back, but it was too late.   May burst into the room, beaming.

                            Norma was taken aback at the difference in May’s demeanour, which threw her into a mental quandary.  Had she mistaken a discomfort due to the need to use the lavatory for a guilty conscience?  And that impulse to switch the glasses!

                            “Well, cheers!” she said shakily, holding up the wine glass and then draining it.

                            “Bottoms up!” replied May, following suit.

                            #5583
                            ÉricÉric
                            Keymaster

                              For background ideas and “what’s happening now already?” about the Aunties au Pair thread:

                              • June
                              • April
                              • Norma (Noor Mary)
                              • May (Merhnaz)
                              • August
                              • Pres. Lump
                              • Barron
                              #5582

                              Glynis noticed the fae’s hands. They were trembling. It was so faint nobody had noticed, but she had trained her eyes to that sort of things.

                              “Not now,” she said, looking at everyone. “He just arrived and we didn’t give him the time to rest and feel welcomed.” She turned to Rukshan. “My friend, forgive our rudeness. Come to the kitchen where I’ve made my famous chard and chicken gratin.”

                              Everyone could see the relief on Rukshan’s face. A burden, that they all have been unaware of, seemed to lift a bit from his shoulders and a small tear appeared at the corner of his eye.

                              “Maybe he can take a bath before going to the kitchen,” said Fox whose nose was wiggling. They all laugh.

                              “Go prepare the bath,” Glynis said, “I’ll feed him before he faints.”

                              “And maybe afterward he can tell us his story in the land of Giants,” said Eleri hopefully. She seemed to have forgotten her ankle.

                              “Of course, we’ll do all that,” said Glynis. Then she pointed at the blocks on the floor. “Our friend here have plenty of time. A few millenia. Now, chop chop! leave our guest be.”

                              #5575

                              “What are we waiting for?” asked Fox. “Let’s do it now. I’ll gather his blocks and pieces together before night falls.” He left the house before anyone could say anything and left the door open. The afternoon was near to its end and the light was dimming fast. Glynis, Rukshan and Eleri soon could hear the cyclical grating noise of the wheelbarrow and the thumping noise of the blocks being loaded.

                              Glynis sighed.

                              “I don’t have all the required ingredients,” she said, “That pink clay from Sina, I used it all to lift the jinx on the loo.”

                              Olliver appeared at that moment. “You need my help?”

                              “We would if you could go somewhere you have never seen before,” said Rukshan. His panda eyes gave him a really tired look.

                              “Oh but I can, now,” said Olli. “If you’ve been there, I just need you to say the name and I can follow the vibration back to its origin.”

                              “My, What have I missed? I’ve been away far too long,” said the fae.

                              “You certainly have,” said Fox who was back and waiting at the door. The baby snoots, who were never far from the dwarf, had followed and their colourful glows brought an interesting set of nuances to Fox’s aura. “Can someone help me bring all those blocks into the house?”

                              Eleri would have helped of course, but pain you know, her ankle was so bad at the moment, she couldn’t risk making it worse. Glynis cleared a space and put a table cloth on the floor. “Don’t you make a scratch on my new wooden floor,” she warned the boys who brought the pieces together.

                              “Wow, the blocks are like magnets, but also different,” said Olliver, “It’s difficult to take one away because they attract each other, but if you bring them too close they repel each other. I can feel it.”

                              “Yes,” said Rukshan, “the Master creator told me we can’t force the process without the proper requirements.”

                              Once every pieces were on the table cloth, they all gathered around, even the baby snoots, and they looked at the rocks for a moment. Glynis had lit a few candles since the night had fallen and the light was painting dancing shadows on the walls. Fox’s stomach growled but his attention was all on what Rukshan would say next. They all were.

                              “So where is this pink clay?” asked Olli who couldn’t wait longer.

                              #5574

                              June was impatiently waiting for the Oober, and asking April every second where the driver was.

                              “You should get the app if you’re so damn impatient!” finally snapped April who had watched a video on how to stop being a crowd pleaser and start asserting herself. Might as well be with June, as she was the kind of bossy britches who would let the light shine anywhere else than on herself.

                              June looked at her and raised an eyebrow. “Good, you’re learning from our dear Pdt Lump, be yourself. Have you tweeted it already?”

                              “Why do you always have to make everything a political statement?”

                              “Because everything is, dear! Don’t get me started on that… Look, I think that’s our driver! Whoohooo!” She waved at him in an outrageous fashion.

                              “Stop that! Or we’ll have to find another ride, or worse, get assaulted!” The driver did actually look a little bit started by the two in their matching red tracksuits. They had a street dance planned with the Chinese maids from the Chinese Embassy where the party was planned during the time it was empty, due to Chinese New Year.

                              “Anyway, I hope the kid is going to be fine.” April sighed a little concerned.

                              “Oh don’t worry about that, what could happen, really? Let’s enjoy our Friday night out, shall we.”

                              #5572
                              TracyTracy
                              Participant

                                “My name is Trebuchet and my message is clear. The message, the clear message,  is in the glossary.”

                                “Thank you, Trebuchet,” Liz didn’t bother to look up. “You’s as maddening as Finnley was.”

                                The glossary was fascinating. Who were all these people? Horrified, she noticed more and more names of dear friends who she’d completely forgotten about. How could she?

                              Viewing 20 results - 1,061 through 1,080 (of 4,853 total)

                              Daily Random Quote

                              • “Tina, I did not say that huffily!” Becky retorted. ... · ID #2312 (continued)
                                (next in 15h 12min…)

                              Recent Replies

                              WordCloud says