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  • #6740
    AvatarJib
    Participant

      When Salomé got closer to examine the creature, it jumped towards her. She caught it by reflex.

      “Wow!” said Georges. “Sand Rin clearly has a death wish.”

      “Thank you,” said Salomé. “Again.”

      “I didn’t mean…”

      She smiled. He was so easy to tease.

      “Why did you call it Sand Rin?” she asked.

      “I think our little friend has telepathic abilities. She showed this scene to me and I heard myself call her that.”

      “You might want to revise your diagnostic concerning its gender. It seems he’s got balls.”

      “Does that necessarily make it a male ?” asked Georges with a grumpf.

      Salomé looked at her friend and raised one eyebrow.

      “Does it indeed,” she said.

      Georges snorted. Salomé’s attention moved back to the creature. The fur was soft, and produced little blue sparks when she stroke it with her hands. It wasn’t static electricity because Salomé didn’t feel anything except a desire to stroke it again.

      “Interesting,” she said. “You clearly want us to like you. What’s your name little guy?”

      “I told you, it’s Sand Rin,” said Georges.

      “You told me you saw a scene in which you called it Sand Rin. That doesn’t make it his name. It might just have shown you your own mistake.”

      Salomé looked into the eyes of the creature. It wiggled its nose.

      “Hello, Barney,” she said.

      “What? I can’t believe I find an alien creature on Jorid’s hull, and it’s called Barney,” said Georges.

      “Rectification,” said Jorid, “The creature found you. He jumped onto your helmet and licked it. It’s most probable if you had tried to catch him, you’d still be tickling my hull with your boots.”

      Salomé grinned.

      “You told me SHE liked me,” said Georges.

      “I also told you the creature was causing interferences with my sensors and navigational arrays.”

      “Why do you always have to take her side?”

      “She’s most often…”

      “Nope, I don’t need that answer.”

      “…right.”

      Salomé laughed as Georges rolled his eyes. She turned her attention to Barney when he started squiggling like he was talking.

      “He’s agitated,” she said. “Something foreboding, urgent.”

      “You’ll be happy to know Léonard’s vitals are showing he’s about to wake up,” said Jorid.

      “Wehoo! At last”, said Georges. “He’ll be able to tell us what the Zathu did to him.”

      “I’m more curious about what he did to them to deserve being treated like that,” said Salomé with a frown.

      #6737
      AvatarJib
      Participant

        I hear the greenhouse airlock open. I don’t look up and keep my focus on the alien sweat pea plant I have been working on. I’m trying to get it to bind itself to the carbon mesh I printed to help it spread instead of grow like a ball. My hands are precise and my movement efficient. I’ve been practicing everyday since I embarked on this ship some fourteen years ago. I don’t allow distraction when I’m in the greenhouse, and Georges was often one.

        He plants himself on my left.

        “I found the beast,” he says.

        “One moment. I’m almost done.”

        I have to be careful with the tendrils. An abrupt gesture would cause them to wind around my fingers and pierce my lab gloves with their myriad of teeth. As sharp and poisonous as black mamba teeth, I’d be dead in seconds.

        “Here, little thing. That’s good,” I say, encouraging the plant.

        After the first three tendrils find their bearing on the carbon mesh, the rest of the plant follows.

        “That’s gross,” Georges says. “I don’t know why you always pick the most dangerous ones.”

        I don’t answer and observe the plant wraps its tendrils around the carbon wires like it found a prey. I spent weeks trying to find the right combination of softness and tension for the alien plant to accept it.

        “I’m done,” I say.

        I look up and I see the creature in Georges’ hands.

        “Isn’t she cute?” Georges asks.

        “She? Should I worry next time you tell me I’m cute?”

        The creature’s cute, as much as a rodent with protruding eyes can be. It’s clearly neither from Earth, nor from Alienor. The eyes are looking straight at me and its muzzle wiggles as if getting some information through its sense of smell. It isn’t dangerous, since Georges is still alive. He’s the opposite of careful and after all those years together, I have to wonder how he’s still alive.

        #6636
        AvatarJib
        Participant

          Georges had always thought going out into space with the spacesuits generated by Jorid was an exhilarating experience. The tight fitting suit and gloves were full of sensors that could transmit different kind of sensory informations to the brain. Pressure, temperature and the fluctuations of the Boodenbaum surface field. It was a lot like feeling the surface tension of water and moving in space with these suits was as easy as swimming in a warm ocean.

          The light of the star gave Georges’ white suit a green hue. There was no doubt they were back in the Alienor system after 14 years. The Jorid was currently orbiting Duane, not very far from there, Georges could see the twin planet, Murtuane. But no sign of Phrëal anywhere. His helmet speakers started playing “In the Hall of the Mountain King” by Edvard Grieg.

          “Jorid,” said Georges, “what are you doing?”

          “I thought it was fitting for such a grandiose moment, Georges. The sensory information about your body tells me you’re filled with nostalgia and awe at the sight of your home planet.”

          “It’s not my… forget it. What am I looking for?”

          “Likely a small creature, the size of a rodent from Earth. I can fell it run about the greenhouse where Salomé is taking care of her sweet pea plants from planet Attalyi. It seems to have developed an interest in her activities.”

          Georges glided over the curved hull toward the giant window Jorid had manifested for Salomé’s little experiments. She wanted to grow alien vegetation in an intersticial environment kept in stasis in between dimensions to spice up the dishes from the replicator. He hid behind one of Jorid’s spherical gravitational wave sensor.

          “I can see the creature. Is Salomé aware it’s spying on her?”

          “Negative. She required not being disturbed during her experiments.”

          Georges pushed a button on his wrist keyboard. Beethoven’s fifth symphony started playing. Georges pushed the same button again. The track changed to Mozart’s “Little Night” music.

          “Jorid, the wristboard is malfunctioning. Can you stop the music and activate the cloaking shield for me ?”

          “Negative. The creature is creating of interferences.”

          “How? Wow!? What the …”

          A creature the size of a marmoset had landed on Georges helmet and was licking the glass, using its gecko fingers to stick it. An image formed into Georges mind : Salomé stroking the creature in the green house and calling it Sand’Rin.

          “I think she likes you,” said Jorid.

          #6623

          In reply to: Orbs of Madjourneys

          “I don’t know if it’s this place, but I never had so much trouble of keeping track of time…” Xavier mused.

          As soon as he’d came back to the Inn after his errand with the bird, he’d finally caught up with Yasmin and Zara. Both of them were in their rooms, and they wasted no time to get going. Zara had called Youssef who was still at the shop, so they could all meet outside for drinks.

          As soon as Youssef arrived, it was a huge rally cry of joy throughout the four of them.

          “Funny” Xavier said pointing at Youssef’s chest. “This one isn’t letting you go, despite all the huggin’ — the glitter speck on your bear, I mean…” The others were looking at him like he’d been alien or something. “The glitter? Am I the only one to see it? Oh forget it…”

          While the others were chatting about their day, Xavier was thinking about some of the bugs he had to fix in his program, as well as a flurry of ideas to improve the system. Coincidentally, Youssef had mentioned commissioning his help to do a robo-version of him to automatically answer his pesky and peppy boss. Well, he could probably do that, his friend didn’t seem too complex to model. As for doing his job… that was a stretch.

          The gales of laughters, occasional snorting and clinks of the pints brought him back to reality.

          While Zara was explaining all about the Carts race of the festival to Youssef, Yasmin leaned on conspiratorially:

          “Over there, — don’t look, be casual — yes, behind me,… have you noticed that lady? She seems bizarre and a tad familiar, no? You haven’t met her before, like in the game or something?”

          #6536

          In reply to: Orbs of Madjourneys

          Youssef hadn’t changed a bit since they last met in real life. He definitely brought the bear in the bear hug he gave Xavier after Xavier had entered the soft sandal wood scented atmosphere of the Indian restaurant.

          It was like there’d seen each other the day before, and conversation naturally flew without a thought on the few years’ hiatus between their last trip.

          As they inquired about each other’s lives and events on the trip to get to Alice Springs, they ordered cheese nan, salted and mango lassi, a fish biryani and chicken tikka masala and a side thali for Youssef who was again ravenous after the jumpy ride. Soon after, the discussion turned to the road ahead.

          “How long to the hostel?” asked Youssef, his mouth full of buns.

          Xavier looked at his connected watch “It’s about 1 and half hour drive apparently. I called the number to check when to arrive, they told me to arrive before sunset… which I guess gives us 2-3 hours to visit around… I mean,” he looked at his friend “… we can also go straight there.”

          Youssef nodded. He seemed to have had already enough of interactions in the past day.

          Xavier continued “so it’s settled, we leave after we finish here. According to the landlady, it looks like Zara went off trekking, she didn’t seem too sure about Zara’s whereabouts. That would explain why we heard so little from her.”

          Youssef laughed “If they don’t know Zara, I can bet they’ll be running around searching for her in the middle of the night.”

          Xavier looked though the large window facing the street pensively. “I’m not sure I would want to get lost away from the beaten tracks here. There’s something so alien to the scale of it, and the dryness. Have you noticed we’re next to a river? I tried to have a look when I arrived, but it’s mostly dried up. And it’s supposed to be the wet season…”

          Youssef didn’t reply, and turned to the leftovers of the biryani.

          Despite the offering to top it off with gulab jamun and rose ice cream, it didn’t take too long to finish the healthy meal at the Indian restaurant. Youssef and Xavier went for the car.

          “Here, catch!” Xavier threw the keys to Youssef. He knew his friend would have liked to drive; meanwhile he’d be able to catch on some emails and work stuff. After all, he was supposed to remote work for some days.

          #6519
          EricEric
          Keymaster

            Salomé: Jorid, did you know Klatu would be so comically rude to us? — Georges says that’s probably a form of respect in their alien culture but I think he’s just actually plain rude to us…

            Jorid: I don’t think knowing such things will be useful to your finding your friend Léonard. I’d suggest you focus on maintaining your balance on the frail sand skiff driving you now through the desert.

            Salomé: So slippery… It’s hardly an answer… I often forget you were a fish onto a board when you started off…

            Georges: Don’t be rude to Jorid, dear.

            Jorid: Salomé isn’t rude, it’s actually rather accurate, and I don’t think humans start as much better either.

            Salomé: oh, clever. Seems the weather here is doing you good, some humour is coming back to you J.

            Jorid: Maybe my capacity has been intact all along…

            Salomé (giggling): Oh, and learning to be rude too; the locals are rubbing off on you.

            Jorid: Zatu’s trajectory is veering off toward a storm. I would advise a course correction.

            Georges: He’s just thrown two pairs of goggles at us and some insults to boot. He doesn’t seem intent on changing course.

            Jorid: Then you both need to brace yourself.

            Salomé: Thanks for the heads up, Jorid. Preparing for impact!

            #6509
            EricEric
            Keymaster

              Table of characters:

              Characters Keyword Characteristics Sentiment
              Clara Woman in her late 40s, VanGogh’s owner Inquisitive, curious
              VanGogh Clara’s dog Curious
              Grandpa Bob Clara’s grandfather, widowed, early signs of dementia Skeptical, anxious
              Nora Clara’s friend, amateur archaeologist, nicknamed Alienor by Clara Adventure-seeking
              Jane Grandpa Bob’s wife, Clara’s mother, only Bob seem to see her, possibly a hallucination Teasing
              Julienne / Mr. Willets Neighbors of Clara & Bob
              Bubbles (Time-dragglers squad, alternate timeline) Junior drag-queen, reporting to Linda Pol (office manager) adventurous, brave, concerned
              Will After Nora encountered a man with a white donkey, she awakes in a cottage. Will is introduced later, and drugs Nora unbeknownst to her. Later Bob & Clara come at his doorstep (they know him as the gargoyle statues selling man from the market), looking for her friend. Affable, mysterious, hiding secrets

              Some connecting threads:

              1. The discovery of a mysterious pear-shaped box with inscriptions by Clara and her grandfather.
              2. Clara sending photos of the artifact to Nora (Alienor), an amateur archaeologist.
              3. Nora’s journey from her place to reach the location where the box was discovered and her encounter with a man with a donkey (Will?).
              4. Grandpa Bob’s anxious behavior and the confusion over the torn piece of paper with a phone number.
              5. The parallel timeline of a potential breach in the timelines in Linda Pol’s office.
              6. The search for VanGogh and the discovery of a map tucked into his collar.
              7. The suggestion from Jane that Clara should be told something.
              8. Nora awakes at a cottage and spends time with Will who drugs her soup. Bob & Clara show up later, looking for her.
              EricEric
              Keymaster

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

                BACKGROUND CONTENT: Focus is on key protagonists:

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

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

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

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

                #6504
                EricEric
                Keymaster

                  Klatu was a quite unassuming alien form (alien for them anyway, he was actually more indigenous than they were). Looking like a green gnome with bulging eyes covered by protective goggles, long pointy ears (2 or 3 depending on the wind direction), a short three nostrils snout, an a mossy toupee on top of his head, he made quick work of the formalities and presentations.

                  “Little ugly humans, come follow me. Have tracked your smelly hairy friend, not time to waste.”

                  Salomé looked at Georges sideways with a smirk on his face. They could read their thoughts easily on that one, something along the lines of:

                  “The translator is behaving again, or is he really calling us ugly?”

                  “Don’t worry dear, that’s probably a polite way of addressing people in their language.”

                  They arrived at a little sand speedster just barely big enough for their indigenous companion. Salomé raised an eyebrow at the situation, while Georges was ready to ride shotgun with the alien on the tiny bike.

                  Klatu moved his arms in short annoyed movements, “not here, stupid mammals, go there and be quiet!” and pointed them to a makeshift trolley attached behind and half burried in the sand. He grinned from ear to ear to ear, visibly pleased with his vehicle tuning appendage.

                  “Horrid creatures better wear seatbelts. Ride gonna shaky.”

                  #6481
                  EricEric
                  Keymaster

                    This is the outline for a short novel called “The Jorid’s Travels – 14 years on” that will unfold in this thread.
                    The novel is about the travels of Georges and Salomé.
                    The Jorid is the name of the vessel that can travel through dimensions as well as time, within certain boundaries. The Jorid has been built and is operated by Georges and his companion Salomé.

                    Short backstory for the main cast and secondary characters

                    Georges was a French thief possibly from the 1800s, turned other-dimensional explorer, and together with Salomé, a girl of mysterious origins who he first met in the Alienor dimension but believed to have origins in Northern India maybe Tibet from a distant past.
                    They have lived rich adventures together, and are deeply bound together, by love and mutual interests.
                    Georges, with his handsome face, dark hair and amber gaze, is a bit of a daredevil at times, curious and engaging with others. He is very interesting in anything that shines, strange mechanisms and generally the ways consciousness works in living matter.
                    Salomé, on the other hand is deeply intuitive, empath at times, quite logical and rational but also interested in mysticism, the ways of the Truth, and the “why” rather than the “how” of things.
                    The world of Alienor (a pale green sun under which twin planets originally orbited – Duane, Murtuane – with an additional third, Phreal, home planet of the Guardians, an alien race of builders with god-like powers) lived through cataclysmic changes, finished by the time this story is told.
                    The Jorid’s original prototype designed were crafted by Léonard, a mysterious figure, self-taught in the arts of dimensional magic in Alienor sects, acted as a mentor to Georges during his adventures. It is not known where he is now.
                    The story starts with Georges and Salomé looking for Léonard to adjust and calibrate the tiles navigational array of the Jorid, who seems to be affected by the auto-generated tiles which behave in too predictible fashion, instead of allowing for deeper explorations in the dimensions of space/time or dimensions of consciousness.
                    Leonard was last spotted in a desert in quadrant AVB 34-7•8 – Cosmic time triangulation congruent to 2023 AD Earth era. More precisely the sand deserts of Bluhm’Oxl in the Zathu sector.

                    When they find Léonard, they are propelled in new adventures. They possibly encounter new companions, and some mystery to solve in a similar fashion to the Odyssey, or Robinsons Lost in Space.

                    Being able to tune into the probable quantum realities, the Jorid is able to trace the plot of their adventures even before they’ve been starting to unfold in no less than 33 chapters, giving them evocative titles.

                    Here are the 33 chapters for the glorious adventures with some keywords under each to give some hints to the daring adventurers.

                    1. Chapter 1: The Search BeginsGeorges and Salomé, Léonard, Zathu sector, Bluhm’Oxl, dimensional magic
                    2. Chapter 2: A New Companion – unexpected ally, discovery, adventure
                    3. Chapter 3: Into the Desert – Bluhm’Oxl, sand dunes, treacherous journey
                    4. Chapter 4: The First Clue – search for Léonard, mystery, puzzle
                    5. Chapter 5: The Oasis – rest, rekindling hope, unexpected danger
                    6. Chapter 6: The Lost City – ancient civilization, artifacts, mystery
                    7. Chapter 7: A Dangerous Encounter – hostile aliens, survival, bravery
                    8. Chapter 8: A New Threat – ancient curse, ominous presence, danger
                    9. Chapter 9: The Key to the Past – uncovering secrets, solving puzzles, unlocking power
                    10. Chapter 10: The Guardian’s Temple – mystical portal, discovery, knowledge
                    11. Chapter 11: The Celestial Map – space-time navigation, discovery, enlightenment
                    12. Chapter 12: The First Step – journey through dimensions, bravery, adventure
                    13. Chapter 13: The Cosmic Rift – strange anomalies, dangerous zones, exploration
                    14. Chapter 14: A Surprising Discovery – unexpected allies, strange creatures, intrigue
                    15. Chapter 15: The Memory Stones – ancient wisdom, unlock hidden knowledge, unlock the past
                    16. Chapter 16: The Time Stream – navigating through time, adventure, danger
                    17. Chapter 17: The Mirror Dimension – parallel world, alternate reality, discovery
                    18. Chapter 18: A Distant Planet – alien world, strange cultures, exploration
                    19. Chapter 19: The Starlight Forest – enchanted forest, secrets, danger
                    20. Chapter 20: The Temple of the Mind – exploring consciousness, inner journey, enlightenment
                    21. Chapter 21: The Sea of Souls – mystical ocean, hidden knowledge, inner peace
                    22. Chapter 22: The Path of the Truth – search for meaning, self-discovery, enlightenment
                    23. Chapter 23: The Cosmic Library – ancient knowledge, discovery, enlightenment
                    24. Chapter 24: The Dream Plane – exploring the subconscious, self-discovery, enlightenment
                    25. Chapter 25: The Shadow Realm – dark dimensions, fear, danger
                    26. Chapter 26: The Fire Planet – intense heat, dangerous creatures, bravery
                    27. Chapter 27: The Floating Islands – aerial adventure, strange creatures, discovery
                    28. Chapter 28: The Crystal Caves – glittering beauty, hidden secrets, danger
                    29. Chapter 29: The Eternal Night – unknown world, strange creatures, fear
                    30. Chapter 30: The Lost Civilization – ancient ruins, mystery, adventure
                    31. Chapter 31: The Vortex – intense energy, danger, bravery
                    32. Chapter 32: The Cosmic Storm – weather extremes, danger, survival
                    33. Chapter 33: The Return – reunion with Léonard, returning to the Jorid, new adventures.
                    #6471
                    EricEric
                    Keymaster

                      The Jorid is a vessel that can travel through dimensions as well as time, within certain boundaries.

                      The Jorid has been built and is operated by Georges and his companion Salomé.
                      Georges was a French thief possibly from the 1800s, turned other-dimensional explorer, and along with Salomé, a girl of mysterious origins who he first met in the Alienor dimension but believed to be born in Northern India in a distant past, they have lived rich adventures together, and are deeply bound by love and mutual interests.

                      Georges, with his handsome face, dark hair and amber gaze, is a bit of a daredevil at times, curious and engaging with others. He is very interesting in anything that shines, strange mechanisms and generally the ways consciousness works in living matter. Salomé, on the other hand is deeply intuitive, empath at times, quite logical and rational but also interested in mysticism, the ways of the Truth, and the “why” rather than the “how” of things.

                      The world of Alienor (a pale green sun under which twin planets originally orbited – Duane, Murtuane – with an additional third, Phreal, home planet of the Guardians, an alien race of builders with god-like powers) lived through cataclysmic changes, finished by the time this story is told.

                      The Jorid’s original prototype designs were crafted by Léonard, a mysterious figure, self-taught in the arts of dimensional magic in Alienor sects, who acted as a mentor to Georges during his adventures. It is not known where he is now.

                      The story unfolds 14 years after we discovered Georges & Salomé in the story.

                       

                      (for more background information, refer to this thread)

                      #6451

                      In reply to: Orbs of Madjourneys

                      The progress on the quest in the Land of the Quirks was too tantalizing; Xavier made himself a quick sandwich and jumped back on it during his lunch break.

                      The jungle had an oppressing quality… Maybe it has to do with the shrieks of the apes tearing the silence apart.   

                      It was time for a slight adjustment of his avatar.

                      Xavimunk opened his bag of tricks, something that the wise owl had suggested he looked into. Few items from the AIorium Emporium had been supplied. They tended to shift and disappear if you didn’t focus, but his intention was set on the task at hand. At the bottom of the bag, there was a small vial with a golden liquid with a tag written in ornate handwriting “MJ remix: for when words elude and shapes confuse at your own peril”.

                      He gulped the potion without thinking too much. He felt himself shrink, and his arms elongate a little. There, he thought. Imp-munk’s more suited to the mission. Hope the effects will be temporary…

                      As Xavier mustered the courage to enter through the front gate, monkeys started to become silent. He couldn’t say if it was an ominous sign, or maybe an effect of his adaptation. The temple’s light inside was gorgeous, but nothing seemed to be there.

                      He gestured around, to make the menu appear. He looked again at the instructions on his screen overlay:

                      As for possible characters to engage, you may come across a sly fox who claims to know the location of the fruit but will only reveal it in exchange for a favor, or a brave adventurer who has been searching for the Golden Banana for years and may be willing to team up with you.

                      Suddenly a loud monkey honking noise came from outside, distracting him.

                      What the?… Had to be one of Zara’s remixes. He saw the three dots bleeping on the screen.

                      Here’s the Banana bus, hope it helps! Envoy! bugger Enjoy!

                      Yep… With the distinct typo-heavy accent, definitely Zara’s style. Strange idea that AL designated her as the leader… He’d have to roll with it.

                      Suddenly, as the Banana bus parked in front of the Temple, a horde of Italien speaking tourists started to flock in and snap pictures around. The monkeys didn’t know what to do and seemed to build growing and noisy interest in their assortiment of colorful shoes, flip-flops, boots and all.

                       

                      Focus, thought Xavimunk… What did the wise owl say? Look for a guide…
                      Only the huge colorful bus seemed to take the space now… But wait… what if?

                      He walked to the parking spot under the shades of the huge banyan tree next to the temple’s entrance, under which the bus driver had parked it. The driver was still there, napping under a newspaper, his legs on the wheel.
                      “Whatcha lookin’ at?” he said chewing his gum loudly. “Never seen a fox drive a banana bus before?”
                      Xavier smiled. “Any chance you can guide me to the location of the Golden Banana?”
                      “For a price… maybe.” The fox had jumped closely and was considering the strange avatar from head to toe.
                      “Ain’t no usual stuff that got you into this? Got any left? That would be a nice price.”
                      “As it happens…” Xavier smiled.

                      The quest seemed back on track. Xavier looked at the time. Blimmey! already late again. And I promised Brytta to get some Chinese snacks for dinner.

                      #6416

                      In reply to: Orbs of Madjourneys

                      The team had to stop when a sandstorm hit them in the middle of the desert. They only had an hour drive left to reach the oasis where Lama Yoneze had been seen last and Miss Tartiflate insisted, like she always did, against the guides advice that they kept on going. She feared the last shaman would be lost in the storm, maybe croak stuffed with that damn dust. But when they lost the satellite dish and a jeep almost rolled down a sand dune, she finally listened to the guides. They had them park the cars close to each other, then checked the straps and urged everyone to stay in their cars until the storm was over.

                      Youssef at first thought he was lucky. He managed to get into the same car as Tiff, the young intern he had discussed with the other day. But despite all their precautions, they couldn’t stop the dust to come in. It was everywhere and you had to kept your mouth and eyes shut if you didn’t want to grind your teeth with fine sand. So instead he enjoyed this unexpected respite from his trying to save THE BLOG from the evil Thi Gang, and from Miss Tartiflate’s continuous flow of criticism.

                      The storm blew off the dish just after Xavier had sent him AL’s answer to the strange glyphs he had received on his phone. When Youssef read the message, he sighed. He had forgotten hope was an illusion. AL was in its infancy and was not a dead language expert. He gave them something fitting Youssef’s current location and the questions about famous alien dishes they asked him last week. It was just an old pot luck recipe from when the Silk Road was passing through the Gobi desert. He just hoped Xavier would have some luck until Youssef found a way to restore the connexion.

                      #6156

                      Clara couldn’t sleep. Alienor’s message asking if she knew anyone in the little village was playing on her mind. She knew she knew someone there, but couldn’t remember who it was. The more she tried to remember, the more frustrated she became. It wasn’t that her mind was blank: it was a tense conglomeration of out of focus wisps, if a wisp could be described as tense.

                      Clara glanced at the time ~ almost half past three. Grandpa would be up in a few hours.  She climbed out of bed and padded over to her suitcase, half unpacked on the floor under the window, and extracted the book from the jumble of garments.

                      A stranger had handed her a book in the petrol station forecourt, a woman in a stylish black hat and a long coat.  Wait! What is it? Clara called, but the woman was already inside the back seat of a long sleek car, soundlessly closing the door. Obliged to attend to her transaction, the car slipped away behind Clara’s back.  Thank you, she whispered into the distance of the dark night in the direction the woman had gone.  When she opened her car door, the interior light shone on the book and the word Albina caught her eye. She put the book on the passenger seat and started the car. Her thoughts returned to her journey, and she thought no more about it.

                      Returning to her bed and propping her pillows up behind her head, Clara started to read.

                      This Chrysoprase was a real gargoyle; he even did not need to be described. I just could not understand how he moved if he was made of stone, not to mention how he was able to speak. He was like the Stone Guest from the story Don Juan, though the Stone Guest was a giant statue, and Chrysoprase was only about a meter tall.

                      Chrysoprase said: But we want to pay you honor and Gerard is very hungry.

                      “Most important is wine, don’t forget wine!” – Gerard jumped up.

                      “I’ll call the kitchen” – here the creature named Chrysoprase gets from the depth of his pocket an Iphone and calls.
                      I was absolutely shocked. The Iphone! The latest model! It was not just the latest model, it was a model of the future, which was in the hands of this creature. I said that he was made of stone, no, now he was made of flesh and he was already dressed in wide striped trousers. What is going on? Is it a dream? Only in dreams such metamorphosis can happen.

                      He was made of stone, now he is made of flesh. He was in his natural form, that is, he was not dressed, and now he is wearing designer’s trousers. A phrase came to my mind: “Everything was in confusion in the Oblonsky house.”

                      Contrary to Clara’s expectations ~ reading in bed invariably sent her to sleep after a few paragraphs ~ she found she was wide awake and sitting bolt upright.

                      Of course! Now she remembered who lived in that little village!

                      #6155

                      Damn these municipal restrictions! Frustrated, Nora looked again at the photo of the inscriptions on the mysterious pear shaped box that Clara had found.  She picked up a pen and copied the symbols onto a piece of paper. Glancing back over the message her friend had sent, her face softened at Clara’s pet name for her, Alienor.  Clara had started called her that years ago, when she found out about the ouija board incident and the aliens Nora had been talking to.  Was it really an alien, or….? Clara had asked, and Nora had laughed and said Of course it was an alien or! and the name had stuck.

                      Nora’s mood had changed with the reminiscence, and she had an idea. She was working from home, but all that really meant was that she had to have internet access. Nobody would have to know which home she was working from, if she could just make it past the town barriers.  But she didn’t have to go by road: the barriers were only on the roads.  There was nothing stopping her walking cross country.

                      Putting aside the paper with the symbols on, she perused a map.  She had to cross three town boundaries, and by road it was quite a distance. But as the crow flies, not that far.  And if she took the old smugglers track, it was surprisingly direct.  Nora calculated the distance: forty nine kilometers.  Frowning, she wondered if she could walk that distance in a single day and thought it unlikely.   Three days more like, but maybe she could do it in two, at a push.  That would mean one overnight stay somewhere. What a pity it was so cold!  It would mean carrying a warm sleeping bag, and she hated carrying things.

                      Nora looked at the map again, and found the halfway point: it was a tiny hamlet. A perfect place to spend the night. If only she knew someone who lived there, somebody who wouldn’t object to her breaking the restrictions.

                      Nora yawned. It was late. She would finalize the plan tomorrow, but first she sent a message to Clara, asking her if she knew anyone in the little village.

                      #6153

                      “That horsetail has such long roots, otherwise I never would have dug so deep,” mused Clara. “Are you okay holding that end? Not too heavy for you?”

                      Grandpa Bob grunted. The box was heavy—in more ways than one—but he wasn’t about to let Clara know he wasn’t up to it.

                      “Let’s put it down there behind the lawn mower,” said Clara. “Do you think it will be safe there? We could cover it?” She ran her hand appreciatively over the shiny exterior  of the box; her fingers paused inquisitively at one end and she peered closely at the spot. “I think there is something here … an inscription or something!”

                      “Probably just some old scratches,” muttered Grandpa Bob. He straightened up with a moan and rubbed his back.

                      “No, look!” Clara was shining her phone torch at the area. “Look, it’s definitely letters of some sort. I’ll take a photo for Alienor!”

                      #6152

                      By now, the trench had been dug deeply around the mysterious artefact. It was surprisingly not rusty at all, and the box was large and oddly pear-shaped. There was no obvious lid nor hinge. Nothing that seemed ancient per say, and yet, given the depth of the dig, it was probably coming from a past long gone.

                      Clara had posted some pics to Alienor, her friend and amateur archeologist, and she’d been immediately intrigued (an slightly jealous at the find). There were still strict restriction in place, so she couldn’t come immediately, but you could hear from the tone of her voice messages, she was dying to become an outlaw to see the wonder in situ.

                      “Come on Clare, it’s going to be dark soon, we should go home or you’ll catch a cold.”

                      “Alright Granpa, but help me first get that out in the garage, we can’t let it outside unprotected.”

                      VanGogh barked approvedly.

                      #6086

                      In reply to: Tart Wreck Repackage

                      “A dil-do factory?” She was aghast. “A fucking carrot dildo factory?”

                      “Admit it, we’re rubbish at this” Tara said. “Even Rosamund may be better at this than us.”

                      “Oh don’t push it.” Star lit a large cigar, a nasty habit that cropped up when she was nervous. She blew a smoke ring and sighed. “At least the rogering was a nice change. Good clean sex, almost a spiritual experience.”

                      “Oh come now, with all the don’t-need-to-know details…”

                      “Well, don’t be such a prude, you were there after all. With all that luscious moaning. Haven’t seen you so flushed in ages…” Star tittered in that high-pitched laughter that could shatter crystal flutes.

                      “Wait… a minute.” Tara was having a brainwave. “We may have overlooked something.”

                      “What? In the sex department?”

                      “Shush, you lascivious banshee… In the flushed department.”

                      “What? Don’t speak riddles tart, I can’t handle riddles when my body’s aching from all that gymnastic.”

                      “Can’t you see? They got to get rid of the dissident stuff unfit for cultish dildoing, if you catch my drift.”

                      “Oh I catch it alright, but I’ve checked the loo… Oh, what? you mean the compost pile?”

                      “I’ve seen trucks parked out the back, they where labelled… Organic Lou’s Disposal Services… OLDS… That’s probably how they remove their archives, if you see what I mean.”

                      “Alright, alright, we’ll go investigate them tomorrow. Meanwhile, what about Mr French?” Star was puffing on her cigar making a good effort at trying to remember and link the details together.

                      “I have a theory. Although it usually would be more in your area of theories.”

                      “What? Alien abduction?”

                      “No, don’t be ridiculous. I’m talking time travel… Haven’t you noticed the scent of celery when we were at the mansion and the appartment?”

                      “A dead give-away for time-travelling shenanigans!”

                      “Exactly. And if I’m correct, might well be that it’s Mr French from the future who phoned us, before he returned to his timeline. Probably because he already knows we’re going to crack the case. Before we know.”

                      “Oh, that’s nice. Would have been nicer if he’d told us how to solve it instead, if he knew, from the future and all? Are you not sure he’s not from his past instead, like before he got in that dreadful car accident?”

                      “Oh well, doesn’t matter does it? And probably won’t any longer once we locate the Uncle Basil in the Drooling Home of Retired Vegetables.”

                      #6029
                      AvatarJib
                      Participant

                        Based on post #5959 in The Whale’s Diaries Collection.

                        As soon as Charlton finished editing his journal entry, someone knocked at the door. It was Kady in a red dress. She looked different than his dream. For starter she was not restless and she had some kind of self-assurance that she didn’t have before.

                        “Oh! Hello,” Charlton said. “Are we going to the pistil?”

                        “So you got the dream I sent you. It’ll be easier. I’m not against a cup of tea. It’s been a long time since I could enjoy one in a couch.”

                        Charlton made some rare Da Hong Pao Chinese tea, the one called Big Red Dress. A warm and rich aroma steamed out of the purple clay teapot he had brought from a trip in China. He thought the tea was a nice touch considering his friend’s garment.

                        “So, where have you been?” he asked.

                        Kady brought up the little cup to her nose and smelled the tea.

                        “Oh! You truly know your shit, Charlton.” She took a sip before continuing. “The pistils, they have been around for longer than everybody think. We call it the Pistil Maze,” Kady said. She looked at him with hesitation in her eyes. “You may not believe me, but aliens put it there, you know. Who else? But most of the people they don’t understand. They don’t want to. It’s too frightening for their little comfort. People are perceiving them now because of the virus. It’s making them able to see their frequency when they weren’t able to before. But they have been there for a long time.”

                        Then Kady told Charlton about an ancient alien race from another dimension that was bringing a power, a treasure of knowledge and abilities, but that current humans bodies were too weak to bear its intensity, and that people had to somehow upgrade before they could. The pistils, they were a series of mazes, a path to transformation. People had to follow it in order to change themselves and there was not just one path. Everyone had to follow their own.

                        The whole story about the pistils fascinated Charlton, especially after his dream. It didn’t took him long before asking his next question.

                        “Do I need to pack up special things for the trip?”

                        “Actually you don’t. We’ll find all that we need inside.”

                        #6026

                        Dear Jorid Whale,

                        My hands are shaking while I type this on the keyboard.

                        I’m not sure which of last night’s dreams is the bizarrest. Bizarre in a fantastic way, although for certain people it might be called grotesque. I’m certain it has something to do with that book I ordered online last week. I don’t usually read books and certainly not like this one. But the confinement, it makes you consider making things out of your ordinary.

                        It’s called The Enchanted Forest of Changes, by a Chinese artist Níngméng (柠檬). They say his artist name means lemon, but that some of his friends call him Níng mèng 凝梦 (curdle dreams), which to my ears sound exactly the same except a little bit angrier. I found out about him on a forum about creepy dolls abandoned in forests all around the world. Yeah exactly, the confinement effect again. Apparently it started with a few dolls in a forest in Michigan, and then suddenly people started to find them everywhere. I wonder if some people are really into the confinement thing or if it’s just me using that as a reason to stay home.

                        Anyway, someone on that forum posted one of the picture of that book and it caught my eye. So much so that I dreamt of it the following night. So I bought the book and it’s mostly ink drawings, but they seem to speak directly to some part of you that you were not even aware you had. I almost hear whispers when I look at the drawings. And then I have those dreams.

                        Last night I dreamt of a cat that had been raised as a boy. He even had the shape of one, but shorter maybe. He had learned to talk and use his paws as hands, his claws had grown into fingers, had lost most of his fur and he was wearing clothes. If I was amazed by such a feat, it kinda seemed normal for the people I met in that dream. It just took a lot of efforts, love and dedication to raise this kind of children.

                        And Whale, I feel tingling in my arms. This morning you showed me the picture of a kitten! That’s not a mere coincidence. I’m feeling so excited, my hands are too slow to type what I want to write. I fear I’m going to forget an important detail.

                        About the second dream. The world was in shock, there was this giant… thing that looked like a pistil and that had grown during the night in some arid area. It was taller than the tallest human made tower. Its extremity was cone shaped, and I confess that the whole thing looked like some kind of dick to me.

                        Plants and trees had followed in the following days as if the pistil had changed the climatic conditions (autocorrect wanted to write climactic, is that you playing around?).

                        The pistil was protected by some kind of field and it couldn’t be approached by everyone. Governments had tried, pharmaceutical companies had tried. People who wanted to make gold out of it, they were all rejected. But for some reason some people could approach. Anyone, not just the pure of hearts or the noble ones. Actually a whole bunch of weirdoes started to take their chances. Some were allowed in and some where not. Nobody knew what was the deciding factor.

                        A friend of mine that I have not seen in years during my waking life, she came back and asked me to come with her. So we went and were allowed in. My recall of the events after that is fuzzy. But I get the strange impression that I will spend more time in there later on.

                        [Edited in the afternoon]

                        I don’t believe it! It’s on the news everywhere. It has even replaced the news about the virus and the confinement.

                        Giant pistils have appeared around the world, but it seems only people who had been infected can see them.

                        Crazy rumours run on the internet. Giant mass hallucination caused by the virus. Some people say it’s alien technology, spores engineered to control our brains.

                        There is one not so far from where I live. Should I wait for Kady to call me?

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