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  • #4038

    Connie looked at the Bossy Pants instructions, her face inscrutable.

    Hilda was not up yet, probably passed out on her couch after a night of debauchery and snorting pepsain. As usual, she’d left a heap of links on her blog for Connie to choose from. Well, and of course, to sexy-bait them up. There were times she was glad she didn’t have to face all the people herself and interview them. Today was not one of them.

    She gestured at the awkward new intern. He passed a head through the door. She didn’t give him the time to open his mouth. “Another chamomile tea,… thaaank you.” He disappeared hurriedly.

    “At least this one gets me.”

    For today, chamomile was the least of evils. Anything stronger would have her go full contact on any one daring to even look at her. If people knew the efforts she made daily.
    Her self-defence instructor knew something about it. She almost sent him to the hospital last week.

    Glancing upon the list of notes, she noticed that Hilda had made a highlight to double check on the gouda cat-like man. That was strange. Hilda wasn’t one to come back on stuff once shared and published. Definitively not the past-dwelling profile. There must have been something more.

    “Well, know what, old tart: early bird gets the worm.”

    She rose from the swivel chair, taking her purse swiftly and aiming for the exit door with the path of least eye-contact when the odd guy appeared again with the damn tea. She’d forgotten about that. Again, her brains firing at full speed, she didn’t leave him time to tell or ask anything.

    “You don’t know where Joel is? Of course not…” The photographer was probably on another assignment. Had not been seen for weeks it seemed. Not that she cared, he would have been more like an alibi for her to go an a follow-up mission.

    Sometimes her brains would also make her do the darnedest thing. She couldn’t stop herself from telling to the hapless intern.

    “You look too happy Ric. Take your coat and come with me.”

    #4036

    Ricardo had finished cleaning the tea cups in the empty office. He liked the job alright, it was a bit silly of him to surmise people would clean their own cups, and do their own teas. That was what he’d meant with the team job comment.

    Connie and Hilda were right, totally right about it; he couldn’t expect too much, he’d just arrived, he was just a simple intern in a prestigious journalistic establishment. He’d come here to learn the tricks of the trade, when he’d answered the wanted: secretary and cleaner ad of last week.
    So far, there was only so much golden nuggets of weirdo news he could find. You’d need some serious training to get to the level of Hilda and Connie, the dynamic duo.

    For now, he was content to being put to menial tasks, it helped know the colleagues better, support them as he could with the pressure on the deadlines. And also, improving the typos and legibility by cleaning up the loose letters dropped during typesetting.
    His own headline baiting skill was still rather low —it was an art to create the perfectly sexyied up heading, not too tacky, but enticing enough to captivate the readership’s attention.
    If Hilda was the queen of headline fishing, Connie was undoubtedly the empress of headline baiting.

    #4034

    “You’re lucky it wasn’t your hands,” said Tina. She had visited Quentin after Connie had left. Strange reporter that one. Kind of short sized with big eyes that never blinked. Tina snorted and dismissed the memory with a roll of her eyes, then looked at Quentin straight in the eyes, awaiting for his answer.

    “What do you mean ?” asked Quentin. Tina didn’t expected the answer to be a question. She rolled her eyes as if Quentin had missed the obvious.

    “The giant gouda ball, you’re lucky it didn’t roll on your hands.”

    Quentin looked at Tina with a bit of concern in his eyes. She had been acting weird lately and making odd random connections between events and comments. He looked at his friend more closely. She had a bird nest on her head. With two eggs. It was a fake nest. He certainly hoped the eggs were too. He had no idea

    “Anyway,” Tina said, “I won a trip to some island of the hidden people from the http://travellerofworlds.tp website. Wanna come with me, Quentin?”
    He thought of his options. The most obvious response would be that he had no idea what a hidden people could be. If it was hidden it could very well be that it was hiddeous and needed to be hidden. On the other hand… Quentin looked at his other hand. It was empty.

    “They say it’s on the rim of the realm,” added Tina as if she had read Quentin’s thought and need for a motive.
    Now, he thought, the rim of the realm, that sounded quite an interesting unexplored territory to discover.
    “When do we leave ? I need to ask Yannosh to pack my suitcase.”

    #4029
    Jib
    Participant

      Liz gasped and almost choked on her soda mojito when she saw Godfrey’s strange attire.
      “Where the hell are you doing like that ?” asked Liz.
      “There is that party in another thread. The dresscode is Bring your Codpiece. As I didn’t have one, I asked Sandro the new gardener for some advice.”
      “Why?” asked Liz speechless.
      “Oh! My therapist told me I needed to get in touch with my manliness and Sandro is Hispanic, they are known to being manly.”
      “Do you really think watermelon rind is a good choice?”

      #4019
      F LoveF Love
      Participant

        “Well … go on then … what is this plan?” asked Nobody with interest, being the only one who heard Liz mumbling rudely.

        #4024

        In reply to: Scrying the Word Cloud

        TracyTracy
        Participant

          quiet thought asked dragon
          perfect knew tart message ways
          itself tina nobody yourself
          future story play wave
          gustave obviously wait age

          #4013

          In reply to: Mandala of Ascensions

          Edward Cayper had been absorbed on the mesmerizing display of the large monitoring screens. He’d liked to believe it was a meditation of sorts. The simulation made the most tantalizing displays, ever changing.

          Although there had been flitches. Increasingly. He called them flitches, scratchy flea-like glitches, all small and jumpy, but he had an eye for them. He was, after all, one of the early designers of the Program. REYE – Reality Emergence Yielding Existence. That didn’t mean much, but sounded cool at the time.
          REYE was in its eighth stable upgrade. Despite the flitches, it had evolved at exponential speed.

          Edward swiveled from his chair to look behind his desk. A series of pods was lined up with sensory deprivation tanks hosting hundreds of plugged-in bodies dreaming in synch with his creation.
          He’d been told they were volunteers to participate in the largest mind control experiment in the world. He wasn’t sure it wasn’t a lie, but didn’t care so much.
          REYE was in charge of coordinating the whole program with astronomical and minute precision. Each person linked to the program believed they had become ascended (or something similarly close to their metaphysical belief). Free of the bonding of space, time and corporal existence, they were taught into a very subtle and complex system of attunement to higher truths. A large basket of bollocks of course, but while they were doing it, and deeply believing it to be real, the mind-energy they produced was redirected to certain mind control experiments.

          Since they started in the 80s, the program had had slow progress. In the beginning, only a few sprouts of channellers appeared near their area, in Nevada. They were quite timid at first, full of doubts about their hearing or seeing voices – still better than the abductions of earlier, when many went completely nuts. But now, progresses were made steadily, and with much less effort. Edward personally believed that the network of waves created by cellphone proliferation had a factor in this trend. Such interconnexion made everything easier.

          Within the program, the flitchy Ascended Masters still had to be reconditioned from time to time. On the vitals of Jane Pierce (a.a.a. “also avatared as” Dispersee within the program), Edward could see there were occasional resistance and stress, which in turn made the glitches more frequent. A change in her drugs dosage would do fine to level the serotonin in her bloodstream. It would be that, or unplugging her.

          Before leaving the room, like every day, Edward switched the monitor to the camera over one of the pods. Florence Vengard (a.a.a. Floverley), was dreaming peacefully, as usual. Since she’d arrived, he’d felt connected to her. He imagined her with long curly red hair floating in the milk bath instead of the bath-cap that made the maintenance so much easier. He was told she had overdosed on pills, and wouldn’t wake up. The program seemed to be tethering her to life, frozen in time.

          A well-oiled machine.
          If you overlooked the small things… that REYE was becoming more inquisitive, and Edward suspected, greedy too. He had seen subtle gaps in the mind-energy gauges, it couldn’t be a coincidence. The program was becoming too smart, maybe too human.

          It couldn’t bode well.

          #4003

          “You rang, madam?” asked the butler, adjusting his oversized blue turban.

          “Ah, Lazuli! How are you settling in?” asked Liz.

          “I’ve only just been written into this thread, madam, moments ago. Do I have to call you madam?”

          “Only when you want to be rude, according to Finnley,” Liz said, glancing fondly at the unconscious cleaner.

          “This thread appears to be going nowhere, madam,” Lazuli remarked thoughtfully.

          “I can write Fanella into it if you like,” Liz quickly tried to entice him to stay.

          Lazuli Galore’s eyes lit up. “Did somebody mention something about sexing the story up a bit?” he asked hopefully. “We’d be the perfect characters for that.”

          “Well, if its ok with Finnley, it’s ok with me. If you can wake her, we can ask her now.”

          #3996
          TracyTracy
          Participant

            The following is an e-mail from the past, composed on July 01, 2010. It is being delivered from the past through FutureMe.org

            Dear FutureMe,
            The Absinthe Cafe
            Dawn and Mark had a bottle of Absinthe (the proper stuff with the WORMwood in
            it, which is illegal in France) but forgot to bring it. Wandering around at
            some point, we chanced upon a cafe called Absinthe. Sitting on the terrace, the
            waitress came up and looked right at me and said “Oh you are booked to come here
            tomorrow night!” and then said “Forget I said that”. Naturally that got our
            attention. After we left Dawn spotted a kid with 2016 on the back of his T
            shirt. We asked Arkandin about it and we have a concurrent group focus that does
            meet in that cafe in 2016, including Britta. Dawn’s name is Isabelle Spencer,
            Jib’s is Jennifer….
            The Worm & The Suitcase
            I borrowed Rachel’s big red suitcase for the trip and stuck a Time Bridgers
            sticker on it, and joked before I left about the case disappearing to 2163. I
            had an impulse to take a fig tree sapling for Eric and Jib, which did survive
            the trip although it looked a little shocked at first. As Eric was repotting
            it, we noticed a worm in the soil, and I said, Well, if the fig tree dies at
            least you have the worm.
            At Balzacs house on a bench in the garden there was a magazine lying there open
            to an ad for Spain, which said “If you lose your suitcase it would be the best
            thing because you would have to stay”.
            Later we asked Arkandin and he said that there was something from the future
            inserted into my suitcase. I went all through it wondering what it could be,
            and then a couple of days ago Eric said that it was the WORM! because of the
            WORMwood absinthe syncs, and worm hole etc. I just had a chat with Franci who
            had a big worm sync a couple of days ago, she particularly noticed a very big
            worm outside the second hand shop, and noted that she hadn’t seen a worm in ages
            ~ which is also a sync, because there was a big second hand clothes shop next to
            Dawn and Mark’s hotel that I went into looking for a bowler hat.
            Arkandin said, by the way, that Jane did forget to mention the bowler hats in
            OS7, those two guys on the balcony were indeed wearing bowler hats, and that
            they were the same guys that were in my bedroom in the dream I had prior to
            finding the Seth stuff ~ Elias and Patel.
            Eric replied:

            And another Time Bridger thing; a while ago, Jib and I had fun planting some TB stickers at random places in Paris (and some on a wooden gate at Jib’s hometown).
            Those in Paris I remember were one at the waiting room of a big tech department store, and another on the huge “Bateaux Mouches” sign on the Pont de l’Alma (bridge, the one of Lady D. where there is a gilded replica of Lady Liberty’s flame).
            I think there are pics of that on Jib’s or my flickr account somewhere.
            When we were walking past this spot, Jib suddenly remembered the TB sticker — meanwhile, the sign which was quite clean before had been written all over, and had other stickers everywhere. We wondered whether it was still here, and there it was! It’s been something like 2 years… Kind of amazing to think it’s still there, and imagine all the people that may have seen it since!
            ~~~~

            The Flights

            I wasn’t all that keen on flying and procrastinated for ages about the trip. I
            flew with EASYjet, so it was nice to see the word EASY everywhere. I got on the
            plane to find that they don’t allocate seats, and chose a seat right at the
            front on the left. The head flight attendant was extremely playful for the
            whole flight, constantly cracking up laughing and teasing the other flight
            attendants, who would poke him and make him laugh during announcements so that
            he kept having to put the phone down while he laughed. I spent the whole flight
            laughing and catching his mischeivously twinking eye.
            I asked Arkandin about him and he said his energy was superimposed. I got on
            the flight to come home and was met on the plane by the same guy! I said
            HELLO! It’s YOU again! Can I sit in the same seat and are you going to make me
            laugh again” and he actually moved the person that was in my seat and said I
            could sit there. Then he asked me about my book (about magic and Napolean). He
            also said that all his flights all week had been delayed except the two that I
            was on. He wanted to give me a card for frequent flyers but I told him I
            usually flew without planes ~ that cracked him up ;))
            ~~~

            The Dream Bean

            Eric cracked open a special big African bean that is supposed to enhance
            dreams/lucidity so we all had a bit of it. The second night I remembered a
            dream and it was a wonderful one.
            (Coincidentally, on the flight home I read a few pages of my book and it just
            happened to be about the council of five dragons and misuse of magical beans)
            In the dream I had a companion with magical powers, who I presumed was Jib but
            it was myself actually. It was a long adventure dream of being chased and
            various adventures across the countryside, but there was no stress, it was all
            great fun. Everytime things got a bit too close in the dream, I’d hold onto my
            friend with magical powers, and we would elevate above the “adventure” and drop
            down in another location out of immediate danger ~ although we were never
            outside of the adventure, so to speak. At one point I wondered why my magical
            freind didn’t just elevate us right up high and out of it completely, and
            realized that we were in the adventure game on purpose for the fun of it, so why
            would we remove ourselves completely from the adventure game.
            In the dream I remember we were heading for Holland at one point, and then the
            last part we were safely heading for Turkey…..
            The other dream snapshot was “we are all working together on roof tiles” and
            Arkandin had some interesting stuff to say about that one.
            ~~~

            There were alot of vampire imagery incidents starting with me asking Eric if he
            slept in his garden tool box at night, and then the guy who shot out of a door
            right next to Jib and Eric’s, in a bright orange T shirt, carrying a cardboard
            coffin. He stopped for me to take a photo (and Arkandin said it was a Patel pop
            in); then while walking through the outdoor food market someone was chopping a
            crate up and a perfect wooden stake flew across the floor and landed at my feet.
            The next vampire sync was a shop opposite Dawn and Mark’s hotel with 3 coffins
            in the window (I went back to take a pic of the cello actually, didn’t even
            notice the coffins). Inside the shop was an EAU DE NIL MOTOR SCOOTER Share, can
            you beleive it, and a mummy, a stuffed raven, and a row of (Tardis) Red phone
            boxes.
            I had a nightmare last night that I couldn’t find any of my (nine) dogs; the
            only ones I could find were the dead ones.
            ~~~~

            Balzac’s House

            The trip to Balzac’s house was interesting, although in somewhat unexpected
            ways. (Arkandin was Balzac and I was the cook/housekeeper) The house didn’t
            seem “right” somehow to Mark and I and we decided that was probably because
            other than the desk there was no furniture in it. Mark saw a black cat that
            nobody else saw that was an Arkandin pop in (panther essence animal), and Dawn
            felt that he was sitting on a chair, and Mark sat on him. (Arkandin said yes he
            did sit on him ;) The kitchen was being used as an office. Jib felt the house
            was too small, and picked up on a focus of his that rented the other part of the
            house. (The house was one storey high on the side we entered, and two storeys
            high from the road below). There were two pop ins there apparently, one with
            long hair which is a connection to my friend Joy who was part of that group
            focus, and I can’t recall anything about the other one. Dawn was picking up
            that Balzac wasn’t too happy, and I was remembering the part in Cousin Bette
            that infuriated me when I read it, where he goes on and on about how disgusting
            it is for servants to expect their wages when their “betters” are in dire
            straits. Arkandin confirmed that I didn’t get my wages.
            The garden was enchanting and had a couple of sphinx statues and a dead pigeon ~
            as well as the magazine with the suitcase and Spain imagery. Mark signed the
            guest book “brought the cook back” and I replied “no cooking smells this time”.

            #3992

            In reply to: Scrying the Word Cloud

            TracyTracy
            Participant

              heart looking hope
              sometimes stories getting asked free
              home somehow
              face sight religious
              managed catch smile
              tried aliens
              barely

              #3990

              But he was not speechless for long.

              “Or was he?” asked an irritating voice from seemingly nowhere.

              Because as luck would have it, Funley the cleaner popped her head in the door to see if the bin needed emptying and overheard Evangeline’s ill-timed and thoughtless words.

              Snooty tart and what a bloody mess there will be to clean up tonight after the party.

              “Don’t worry, Mr Steam, I will untangle this tangled web of threads for you! And I can mop your sweaty brow,” she added sarcastically, rolling her eyes at Evangeline.

              #3982
              Jib
              Participant

                “Are you following me, cousin ?” added Liz with a snort. “I never understood why you chose to hide yourself in that stinky town with your dead fishes. Maybe you are looking for a way out. There is nothing for you where I come from. I’ll never give you the teleportation ab-original codes.”
                “Oh you never understood anything about me, or did you ?” said Mater, “You were too preoccupied by your followers. Is Big G still with you ? And that suspicious maid of yours. Is she still moulding dust critters ?”
                “Dust critters ? What are you talking about?”
                “What codes ?” asked Mater, squinting her eyes.
                “Nothing,” said Liz, realizing she might have talked too much. But she couldn’t help it, her body was unable to contain all the words in her mind, they had to get out. She tightened her lips, trying to resist the outburst.
                “What was that ?” asked Mater looking around, “did you hear that noise ?”
                “Nope”, said Liz, “maybe an earthquake, or a storm approaching.” It had to get out one way or another she thought.
                “Don’t talk nonsense with me, I tell you I heard something.”
                Devan interrupted them. Liz looked at the young man, her cougar senses on alert.
                “I got the paper”, he said.
                Paper, with words.
                “May I ?” she asked, showing the paper.
                “Don’t try to seduce my boy”, said Mater, “I know you.”

                #3979
                TracyTracy
                Participant

                  “Well thank goodness for that!” exclaimed Liz, heaving a sigh of relief. “The teleport thread jump was a success, and Aunt Idle is safe.”

                  “What are you doing here?” said Mater, aghast.

                  “I might ask you what YOU are doing here, Mater, I left you under a sapling in the woods not a moment ago!” retorted Liz.

                  #3977
                  TracyTracy
                  Participant

                    HELP ME!” Liz shouted over her shoulder, while simultaneously grabbing the back of the gardeners trousers with one hand, and attempting to floogle the phrase stickum lute putty on her pocket device with the other hand. What in tarnation did it mean? Probably some ancient tribal voodoo Finnley had picked up during her sojourn in the nether regions of the planet.

                    Roberto struggled to escape the vice like grip on his belt, but Liz’s grip was firm. Godfrey charged across the lawn like like a wild boar to assist with the detention of the errant gardener and gripped Roberto’s shoulder firmly. The sticky shreds of paper in Godfrey’s hand stuck to the gardeners denim shirt like glue. Roberto wrenched himself free, sending Godfrey flying into the herbaceous border, and leaving Liz holding an empty pair of jeans in her hand. Focusing on the information now showing on her pocket information device ~ an aboriginal dreamwalker teleport code ~ it was a moment before Liz realized that she was no longer detaining the gardener but merely holding his trousers. Of Roberto, there was no sign.

                    Godfrey, sitting in amongst the delphiniums, was looking as pale as Finnley after the cucumber mask. Although Liz had missed the sight of the gardener sans trews, Godfrey had not.

                    “An imposter!” he cried. “That was no Roberto, that was Roberta Slack! A WOMAN!”

                    #3972
                    F LoveF Love
                    Participant

                      Suddenly there was a piercing scream.

                      Finnley’s face had turned white—although later she would claim it was not fear but rather the cucumber mask giving her face a death-like appearance—and she was pointing a shaking finger in the direction of Roberto’s derrière. Or more accurately, towards where Roberto’s derrière had been prior to the scream; like the others, he had jumped up in alarm at the ear splitting noise.

                      “What the devil is the matter?” gasped LIz. She grasped Finnley’s shoulders firmly and shook her. “Pull yourself together; it’s just a bum crack. I know it is a long time since you will have seen a man’s bum, but really as I keep saying to you, if you will just smarten yourself up and make a bit more effort. I mean, look at you; you’ve got vegetables falling off your face ….” Liz shook her head in confoundment.

                      “It’s not the bum crack,” snarled Finnley, recovering her usual unflappable composure. “It is the tattoo on his bum. The tattoo of the girl with the glass feet. Do you not know what that means?”

                      Roberto’s eyes narrowed as he began to back away towards the gate.

                      In all the excitement, nobody noticed Godfrey picking up the sticky and ripped shreds of paper which Liz had let drop to the ground.

                      Or did they?

                      #3971
                      Jib
                      Participant

                        “What happened to you, Finnley ?” asked Liz. The maid, usually neatly permed looked dishevelled and had forgotten to remove her cucumber mask.
                        “The delivery man”, began Finnley, “He said someone ordered 30.”
                        “30 what ?”
                        “30 crates of carrot champagne.”
                        “Carrot champagne ? I didn’t know they could make alcohol out of carrots,” said Liz. She pouted lasciviously, thinking of what she could do with all that champagne. She had never taken a bath in champagne, that could be a first. She would have to be careful with the carrot tan though.
                        “They can do alcohol with anything”, added Godfrey.
                        “Who ordered that ?” asked Liz, “And why 30 crates ?”
                        “Apparently, it’s your cousin Badul”, said Finnley. A cucumber fall off her face.
                        Liz’ lips closed tight at the mention of her cousin.
                        “It’s Badul’s intention to have the wedding at your property.”
                        Liz dropped her spaghetti hat on the freshly mown grass. Roberto bent over, showing even more of his crack, to pick up the hat before it attracted ants. Liz bit her lips.

                        #3970
                        Jib
                        Participant

                          That’s funny, Roberto thought, a bunch of nonsense.
                          “What’s that ?” asked Liz, her curiosity picked by the alluredness of a strand of words.
                          “It just fall off your hat”, said the gardener. He looked at the woman, thinking about what Godfrey had told him. The sunlight certainly made her look radiant. He noticed that the red of her lips was the same as the red rose bush he was just taking care of.
                          Liz took the paper.
                          “Be careful, It’s sticky”, said Roberto.
                          “Say something I don’t know, dear.” She tried to get rid of the paper, tearing it in several pieces in the process.
                          “I wonder…” she began, “Finnley”, she called waiting for her help. She would certainly know. She had a habit of sticking her nose everywhere.

                          #3969
                          Jib
                          Participant

                            Devan!” called Mater. She couldn’t find the spell, and if they didn’t hurry, Idle would be lost, transformed into termitegranite forever.

                            The boy happened to be in the house at that moment. And he asked quite proud of himself. “What’s the matter Mater ?”
                            If she had had time to roll her eyes, she would have.
                            “I’m looking for a small package, it was hidden into the termite honey that your aunt swallowed.”
                            “Termite honey ?” asked Devan, “I didn’t know termite made honey. Are you sure it was not something else ? Like bees ?”
                            “Don’t play games, there’s no time. Look for a package, or a paper,” said Mater. I hope that tart didn’t swallow it with the honey.

                            #3967

                            In reply to: Scrying the Word Cloud

                            Jib
                            Participant

                              red compassion friend
                              white question food aliens group
                              job nature sleep
                              universe check haki
                              able days
                              thoughts once
                              replied ask start

                              #3962
                              F LoveF Love
                              Participant

                                Godfrey wandered out after her. “I am sorry about my outburst earlier,” he said remorsefully.
                                “What outburst?” asked Liz, genuinely puzzled.
                                Nothing could disturb her ebullient mood on this splendid day.
                                Or could it?

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