Search Results for 'ask'

The tiger slug, which was the one Lucius was referring to when he asked his question, seemed oblivious to the dirty reed boots that had suddenly appeared on its territory. It was so used to the changes of the land that it was expecting them to go without notice.
They weren’t even edible, and they smelled.

The Meteorlogist had forecast a shower on the south-most part of the bog.
It was such a rare occurrence that a team of magi from Karmalott had been dispatched to study it more closely.
When they arrived at the viewpoint, the youngest one asked : “Have you ever heard a slug fart in the silence of the bog ?”

The three travelers were not the kind of people to limit themselves to safety and comfort ~ indeed if they had been, Lisa would have stayed in the village, never having met Fanella who would have stayed in Versailles, who never would have met Ivan who would have stayed in Russia. They all had an underlying courage and sense of adventure to be on the island at all. They were not, however, inherently stupid. As they approached the great walls of Gazalbion, they became uneasy. It looked more like a vast open air prison than a welcoming city.
“I’m not sure about this” Lisa whispered to the others, “Once we’re inside there, how will we get out? It might be a trap.”
“But you’re always saying we create our own reality Lisa, how can anyone else trap us?”
asked Fanella.
“We create being trapped as a reflection of restricting ourselves, that’s how it works. It’s not always black and white. And it’s not always easy to resolve that in a demanding and unsettling situation. It would behoove us to proceed with caution.”
“That doesn’t sound right Lisa, that doesn’t sound like trust, and you’re always telling us that trust is the key.”
“And space” added Ivan, “Space is a key, too.”
“Yeah but what does that mean exactly anyway?”
“Fucked if I know” replied Ivan.

Lazuli Galore noticed the hesitation of the travelers, and decided to change tactics. They were only a few hundred meters from the entrance to Gazalbion, and it was starting to look as if the new arrivals would not enter willingly. He dispensed with the elephant form, exploding it into a pack of grey wolves which circled behind the travelers, and chased them into the city.

“Olution! Olution!” the crowd chanted, for there was always a crowd gathered at the gate to witness new arrivals. “Olution! Olution!”
Nobody actually knew what the word Olution meant, but they had seen it on tv so many times that they simply repeated it, and the more people that repeated it, the more the frenzy grew.
“Olution! Olution!” the crowd screamed and Lisa, Fanella and Ivan were surrounded by the people, thousands of them, all covered in colourless grey cement dust, even their hair and faces were a ghastly dusty grey.
“Now we’re in trouble,” Lisa remarked grimly.

“Follow the elephant before it disappears again” suggested Ivan to Lisa and Fanella who were visibly distraught at Sanso’s unexpected disappearance into the depths of the marshy field beneath their feet.
“That elephant must be connected to some sort of human civilization, elephants don’t parachute on their own,” Ivan deduced, grateful that he had watched so many nature documentaries at the village, and that he could appear knowledgeable to the frightened women.
“Shouldn’t we look for Sanso?” asked Fanella. “Does that strange letter provide any clues? Has he been pushed through a perforation into the honeycomb? Something to do with the underground faded pale people?”
“If we find some of the local inhabitants, we can ask them for help. If we start wandering around here in this mist we will surely get lost, or even struck by another falling elephant.”
“Are we assuming the natives are friendly?” asked Lisa nervously.
“Yes, at this point, we are” replied Ivan. “Until we find proof indicating otherwise. And we must assume that Sanso can look after himself, and that he will join us later.”
“The elephant did look friendly” added Fanella. “Look, he keeps looking back to see if we’re following him. Come on!”

At first, Sadie did not realise she was invisible.

It was only when she looked in the bathroom mirror she realised something was missing, and even then it took a moment to register. Thinking about it later, it seemed strange to her that something as monumental as being invisible could have gone unnoticed for at least 5 minutes. Yet she had risen that morning with her usual feeling of happiness that everything was right with the world—it was a feeling she had worked hard to cultivate after many hours of selective brainwashing and meditation practice at the Academy.

After the initial shock, Sadie realised what must have happened. Before bed the evening before, she had finally plucked up courage to do the set of exercises given to her by the Techromancer in 2222. He said it would assist her in her attempts to leave her body and explore other dimensions. Clearly, something had gone very askew.

”Right then”, said Sadie, trying to remain calm and rather relieved she could still hear her voice, ”I am going to have to message Linda Pol and explain the situation. I will request to be returned to 2222 so that I can have another chat with that Techno weirdo.”

………………………………………….

Linda Pol was delighted to get Sadie’s timely message on her e-zapper. But she had no intention of returning her to 2222.

Not just yet, anyway.

Much to everyone’s surprise, Boris called an extraordinary meeting for all the villagers. When Adeline had approached him with a proposition that was troubling her, in his infinite wisdom and practicality, he decided that absolute clarity and open discussion was the only solution. The topic of discussion was the trip to the island with Sanso ~ who wanted to go, and who was willing to stay behind to attend to the animals and the gardens and so on. After several hours of talking and the inevitable sidetracking and joking, interruptions to replenish drinks, fetch snacks or cigarettes, or visit the bathroom, it became apparent that everyone wanted to go, some more enthusiastically than others.

“I have had a spontaneous inspiration to go,” said Lisa, “And I am a big believer is spontaneity. But I am also a big believer in responsibility, and can’t be spontaneous and responsible at the same time ~ unless I can offload the responsibility onto another responsible individual for the duration of my spontaneous holiday.”
“So what you’re saying then is that if I don’t stay home to feed the dogs, then I am denying you your right to be spontaneous?” asked Jack.
Lisa frowned. “If you had just offered to do it, Jack, I could have credited myself with simply trusting it to fall into place. Now you are making me complicate it!”

“I have an idea” suggested Etienne, “That might work for everyone. Let us consider that we need allow no time for travel, as teleport travel is instantaneous, and we need not concern ourselves with money, as timetravel is without financial cost. We can all go, as long as we do it in relays. Unlike traditional holidays, where people save up their money, make arrangements regarding leaving their responsibilities, take time to reach a destination, stay at that destination for a certain time period, and then return, we do not need to concern ourselves with any of that. I suggest we split up into two smaller groups and alternate being present on the island, with our presence here in the village.”
“Now who’s complicating it!” remarked Lisa.
“I think it’s a good idea” Adeline piped up, to a general murmur of agreement.

“If I may say a word” Sanso stood up and looked at each of their faces in turn. “I must be making a move tonight. And all I need to know is who will be coming with me. Fanella and Lisa?” They nodded in agreement. “And which of you intrepid fellows will join us? Ivan?” Unused to being noticed, Ivan nodded and blushed. “Good! Then Mirabelle, Igor, Boris and Adeline can be team two. Jack, Etienne and Pierre, you can be on emergency stand by to assist where needed in either location.”
“Does everyone know how to teleport?” asked Mirabelle. “ I mean properly teleport, to the right place at the right time?”
Sanso laughed. “Well, we are about to find out.”

Amber Graystone was dead. Killed by a bunch of masked men. Linda Pol would be dead also if it weren’t for Mr Graystone, whatever his firstname was. That man knows how to use his gun, she thought. Too bad he was caught by surprise. He managed to kill the three men before they could hurt anybody, but it seemed they had gotten to their main target anyway.

“They tried a car incident, poison. I thought I could protect her”, the man was holding his wife, tears in his voice. She had been shot in the head. One clean wound meant to kill. Linda Pol didn’t want to state the obvious, they were professionals. A vibration in her purse signaled a message on her e-zapper.

“Sorry for the glitch. It seems the Chinese have found a way to cloak themselves from our surveillance. Retrieve the data from the husband. The Management”
The queen began to wonder if they were the network management after all. Why would a TV network have a surveillance system and warn them about the Chinese ? Why would they send her meet a random scientist in Hawai’i ?

While Mr Graystone was grieving his wife, Linda Pol took the liberty to remove the masks of the dead squad. The Chinese indeed. Nothing that could be useful, they all looked the same for her.

She received another message.
“Move quick. Others are coming. The Management”

“You know”, she said aloud, “I think we should move.”
“I can’t leave my wife here.”
“I know, sweetie. But I think she’s already gone. And I fear those men are not be the only ones after your wife’s secret. Do you have any idea how we can get out discretly ?”

A buzz from her e-zapper told her she just got her answer.

More on the mysterious island of Abalone and the city of Karmalott

(initial background)

We find out that the island named Abalone has some unaware people trapped in isolated pockets of their own dreamlike experiences (that usually loop onto themselves for people not trained in being conscious enough to actually remember their dreams). The Surge Team girl hunting giant mosquitoes is one such case.
Hopefully, Irina seems to manage to get a more stable and peaceful experience, while somehow being tied to the bog-like area where she extracted the teen girl she calls Greenie (whom we find out later more about).

The island was claimed by the Chinese across time, but they were never successful, as the nature of the island seems to have broken all their attempts. Nevertheless, Cheung Lok, who was hunting down Irina to retrieve her robot is sent on a doomed mission there, by being parachuted off a plane above its current believed location.

We find out there is a large City built above the clouds, named Karmalott by the locals, possibly on top of a large beanstalk which can be perceived only by those knowing and believing in it (and possibly able to bypass some counter-charms placed by the magi and the protection of the Sentries (who can create creatures of nightmares for the purpose of protection from unwanted ill-believing souls).

The main area of the Island is called by people from Karmalott, the Fog Abyss, or the Pit of Lost Souls. It seems certain rites of passage involve young people and would-be knights going to and back the Fog Abyss, usually protected by Magi for safety purpose (avoiding them to get trapped for all eternity if they are not able to break the fog of their own creations or get enlightened).
It seems Greenie (or Gwinie, being her real name) was purposely left in the bog for yet undetermined purposes.

In Karmalott, we find out the Order of the Magi, ruled by the P’hope who are in charge of resting and balancing the mass beliefs so that the City can thrive.
The City is ruled by the King, who has military power over the Sentries, led by the General Parsifal. He is assisted by the Chamberlain Downson, a strange figure who seem to know many secrets, such as the Saint Amber Graastral Stone Cup, which is purported to hold many powers, and bring illumination to the virtuous.

Other layers of the organization are to be explored, such as the place of the feminine in the society.
The rule of the King appears to be just and fair, although the reality is maybe less spotless. The motto of Karmalott is “Only in unity can we thrive” (or in broken Latin, sed in unum proficio), and it reflects in the democratic principle of public petition, where anyone can ask for rules and manifestations to be bent or adjusted.
In reality, it seems most people have become used to a way of life without any strife or war, and petitions are rare.

It is not known at this point if there are other areas on the island where significant people have managed to gather consistently enough to be able to create a mass-believed reality with the same level of development as Karmalott, but it seems unlikely, as the state of the island is monitored by the Sentries, and they would detect significant changes and clearing of the Fog, while the P’hope would surely detect any conflicting beliefs that would clash with the ones entrusted to him.

(to be continued…)

The room numbers were framed in a golden disc carved with what looked like zodiac animals and a circle of eights.

Linda observed the man walking in front of her. As soon as the effects of the lust gas had dissipated, she had been able to focus on something else than his butt. He’d been watching over his shoulder, and it was not to see if she was keeping with his pace. He had been frowning ever since she’d met him, and you could say his whole attitude exuded wariness. Despite her Happiness Training and the meditation practice at night with Sadie, she was beginning to feel some bowel tension. Not good for her digestion.

He stopped in front of room 57. He knocked, didn’t wait for an answer, instead used his magnetic key to open it, and entered. She followed. He looked one last time on both sides of the corridor, then locked the door.

They were in a big yellow lounge. Linda addressed a silent prayer to the Good Taste Goddess, sympathizing with the pain She must have endured each time an interior designer had expressed such lack of sobriety. It wasn’t just the color. The furniture seemed to come from Hart to Hart, except the sofa was in a dark yellow leather, and the cushions in a bright magenta.

“Wait here ‘till I call you”, he said. He left through a door on the right, taking his frown with him.
Linda heard him talk to someone in the other room, certainly a bedroom. A feminine voice answered him. They argued for some time. The woman was the last to speak. Then the silence.

Linda hesitated to seat on a jumping armchair with yellow and brown stripes. It was as if every cell of her body, and even the molecules of her clothes were repelled by the choices of the interior designer. She would have sworn her platform shoes were trying to levitate from the carpet.

The man’s head appeared at the door.
“Come in, she’s ready to see you.”

Linda could see emotions struggle on his face.

“But I warn you”, he said, his fists clenched, “she’s been sick since we have arrived. If my wife is tired, I’ll ask you to leave.”

“Oh!” Linda said.

“Miss Pol ?” asked the man. His voice was full of testosterone. Linda Pol considered a moment using her doe eyes on him. Her lips parted slightly under an untimely warmth coming from her groin.
“Yes.” She swallowed. She realized she was holding her breath. “Actually, it’s Linda Pol, this is my…”, she wanted to keep it simple this time, “stage name. You can call me Linda”, she offered him a wide smiled, which he ignored.
“Who’s that ?” he asked glaring suspiciously inside the elevator.

“Who ?” Linda, unsettled by her conflicting feelings towards the man’s beauty and his brusqueness, looked back. She had completely forgotten about Kevinlol who seemed oblivious to the conversation, politely waiting for his customer to get out of his elevator.
“Oh! Him ? He’s the bellboy who brought me Amber’s message”, she said with a tone she hoped casual. “Is that a gun in your pants ?” The words had escaped her mouth as if all her inhibitions had been put to sleep. Bloody sirens! More potent than I expected, she’d had to be careful.

The man put his hand on his gun and grunted. “Follow me”, he said, and, without waiting, he turned around and strode into the corridor. Linda Pol gathered her wig and heels, and followed his butt.

“Shall I call you Fanny instead then, dear? It seems to be stuck in my head now to call you Fanella (which I do think sounds much nicer actually) but I think I can manage to remember Fanny,” suggested Lisa.
“Call me what you like, I won’t be here much longer” replied Fanella under her breath.
“What was that you said?”
“Coffee, Lisa, would you like a refill?”
Lisa’s reply was interrupted by an exclamation from Sanso, and they both turned their attention to him.
“Here it is!” he was saying. “Look! The island!” He pointed to an area of map collage on the mannequins left buttock, and stroked it gently while explaining. “It’s named Abalone ~ by some of its inhabitants, not by everyone, but more on that later. The fascinating thing about it is it’s mysterious properties ~ and I don’t mean real estate, although there are some VERY peculiar properties on the island! But properties that allow it to appear on the Earth only at certain times and places.”
“Times such as 2121?” asked Fanella.
“Yes indeed, and also times such as years 111, 222, 333 ~ in fact any number that has a particular significance really, it’s a very loose arrangement really, you know what some people are like about numbers, make up all kinds of nonsense about special numbers, but it serves a purpose as a sort of guideline, I suppose.”
“You don’t need to tell me all that, Sanso. I’ve already read the book.”
“Circle of Eights and Other Stories? Ahahahaha! But the stories in that book are forever changing, Lisa. You may have read the book but every time you read it, it’s different. You don’t know everything there is to know about that island just because you read one version of the book at one time!”
“I didn’t say I knew EVERY thing, Sanso” Lisa replied huffily.
“That’s where we’re going next” Fanella interjected. “Sanso is taking me.”
“Really? How exciting!” Lisa’s eyes lit up. “What a trip! I’ve been thinking about a holiday ever since we got back from Portugal. Hey, can I come too?”
Sanso stole a glance at Fanella, who shrugged helplessly. He winked at her and whispered “trust me”.
To Lisa he said “I can’t think of anything I’d like more. Is there anyone you’d like to bring with you?”
“Why yes, there is, how funny you should ask. I’ll ask Mirabelle if she wants to come.”
Fanella rolled her eyes.

“I think we should get out of here now,” said Sanso, opening Fanella’s bedroom door.
“Where are you going?” she asked in surprise, not expecting such a mundane exit. “Aren’t we teleporting?”
“My dear child!” laughed Sanso, “Why teleport for coffee when there’s a kitchen just down the hall?”
Fanella accompanied Sanso to Lisa’s kitchen, wondering how she would explain his presence, but she need not have worried. As soon as Lisa saw him her previously disgruntled countenance shifted, and beamed in welcome recognition. “Sanso! How marvelous to see you again!”
It wasn’t until later that Lisa realized that she had never met Sanso in person, not until that moment.

Continuing Irina and Mr R the Robot

The mission of Irina to thwart the plans of Jonbert being complete, she asks out of the elusive Management scheme, and expects to cash in her promise of an island retirement plan.

(As an aside, to those wondering what happened of the bitter Jonbert, after a change of heart, he follows the St Germain hologram through the portal to Peasland’s dimension. It would not be surprising to see him become new Majorburgmester)

Irina is sent to a mysterious door, with the strong presentiment that there is a catch and it will send her in a time and place beyond her control.
She jumps boldly through the door, not knowing what to expect of the promised island, but preferring that to a life of doing the Management’s biding, and trusting the support of Mr R.

After she arrives on the island, with the help of the robot, she starts to improve her living conditions in the bog part of the island, where among strange relics of different timelines, she also finds a young bog mummy she nurses back to life and names Greenie due to her complexion.

Meanwhile, we learn bits of Irina’s past, through the quest of a Chinese Corporation from her timeline of 2222, and it is strongly suspected that she stole Mr R, a unique robotic prototype with never seen before capacities.
Having crossed Sanso’s path during her previous mission, Sanso becomes the target of the Chinese who hope to retrieve if not information, at least the location of the fugitives thanks to Sanso’s damsel-in-distress-saving fibre, even if fleeting and inconsistent.
It proves a reasonable tactic, as Sanso (who was unwittingly tracked due to a sea cucumber tracker he previously ingested) led them to a map dancer in New York named Jeremy.
Now, the Chinese leader of the hunt, Cheung Lok （張樂）has retrieved the map of the island, which shows strange exotic properties.

The island, named Abalone by some of its inhabitants, shows some mysterious external properties, allowing it to appear on the Earth only at certain times and places (times such as years 111, 222, 333, etc.).

Internal properties, yet to be discovered by Irina, and her companions are dream-like in nature. The island landscape is populated according to people’s individual beliefs, but it usually takes a long time for people to realise it (also known as “transition”).
People can be coaxed out of their transition time, if they are open enough to allow external influences to show them out of their individual dream.
Unusual objects for example can appear and are usually remnants of other’s dreams/beliefs, and are usually difficult to alter.
It also cloaks other realities in the same space arrangement which are not compatible to the person’s beliefs.
People can thus err believing to be alone for a long time, until positive anticipation leads them to social interactions, leading them usually to the city ruled by King Artie.
King Artie, an eternal bachelor, is expected by his subjects to choose a Queen.

It came as a surprise to Fanella to discover that she was homesick for the village in 2020 ~ despite that the entire time she had spent there, she’d been homesick for 18th century Paris. If Sanso belches in my face one more time, I’m off! she said to herself. I know I can do it ~ after all, I ended up in London in 1212, so I can do it again. Well, not back to 1212 of course, but somewhere else ~ ideally 2020, back in the comfort and familiarity of Lisa’s kitchen perhaps. Fanella sighed. I can’t even remember where I was trying to get to the last time, maybe I should just go back to the village and think about it. Travelling with Sanso has turned into a confusing wild cucumber chase, and I can’t make sense of it ~ where will I end up next?
“Umm, where is the loo?” she asked, hoping to find a quiet place in which to concentrate on teleporting out of this cucumber pickle.

Jeremy was 23 years old and living in a 57 square meters apartment in Brooklyn. He had two passions in life. Dance and maps.

Max growled. Well you could consider Max as Jeremy’s third passion. Max was a ragdoll cat with a tiny little genetic defect. His fur had this faint pink tint as if it had been put into a washing machine with red clothes. Max purred, satisfied.

Jeremy’s apartment was an artwork in itself. He was painting as a hobby and had drawn a few maps on his white walls. He had the precise stroke that dance demands of a dancer’s move, he had the eye of a falcon concerning details and he loved connecting dots. For some of the maps he had used pointillism, and for others the ancient art of collage he had learned with his grand-mother Martha. Inspired by Matthew Cusnik he had made portraits of dancers with maps and other landscapes.

Jeremy has been interested for some time in a particularly beautiful picture of the Abraham Lake that he wanted to render on one of the last remaining areas of his ceiling when Max jumped on his lap, purring like a caress junkie in need of a few strokes. Jeremy obliged his cat distractedly, too engrossed in the meanders of the picture and the few maps he could already see in his mind like a puzzle.

Max jumped on the desk and tried to force his way between the keyboard and Jeremy’s hand. But he didn’t have enough time to fulfill his desire. The cat began to cough as if it had a train of thought stuck in his throat.

“Shit! You’re not going to puke on my keyboard!”

But it was too late, the cat opened its mouth and threw up a little ball of hair which bounced off the keyboard and crashed down on the floor.

“ehw!” said Jeremy who cringed when he saw the hair ball on his carpet. “I don’t know what you ate but it smells like those wheat Polish biscuits.

Jeremy had already taken some tissue to clean the cat’s mess, and the cat, certainly thinking it wasn’t enough was licking his fur again.
“Don’t make another one like that. You know I don’t like it.”

He was about to take the ball when it wobbled suspiciously. Then it began to grow. Jeremy blinked several times to make sure he wasn’t dreaming. When the hairball reached the size of a soccer ball, it was obvious there was something inside, it was deformed like the belly of a pregnant woman when the baby kicks in her bowels.
“What on earth have you spawned, Max!” He looked at his cat, horrified that it could be one of those Aliens.

Soon it was as big as a corpse bag for two, and Jeremy could tell from the voices that there were at least two people inside.

Sanso got out of the ragdoll hair ball first, perfect hair as usual. Fanella struggled to get out of the mess of hairs, and was a bit disheveled.

“Time for a reality check”, said Sanso. “Am I dreaming ?” When he saw all the maps and the ragdoll cat, he knew he was at the right place.

“Who are you guys ? And how did you get out of Max ?” asked Jeremy.