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  • #3383

    Lisa was lost in thought during the hours that they spent in the waiting room of the Processing Department. Among the many things she pondered was the nature of their beliefs that had landed them in this situation, the energy they were projecting, and the ramifications of the reflection. She was intrigued with the letter that Sanso had read out to them upon their arrival ~ underground cities had long been a particular fascination. What had been the circumstances leading to so many ancient underground cities being constructed? Nobody knew for sure, but it seemed to Lisa that they had been a means of escaping the surface. But why? Was it because of climate catastrophe, or some other disaster rendering the surface dangerous or inhospitable? Or had it been situations of siege, or hostile populations on the surface? Or had it been merely a curiosity to explore living in a different environment? An idea suddenly occurred to Lisa that she had been judging life on the surface of the planet as the ideal right way to live, the most preferable option, and life below ground as a second rate choice for survival purposes, but perhaps there were unimagined benefits to living below the ground.

    Lisa’s meandering thoughts led her back to the summer of 2014, when the seige situation in Gaza had exploded as the population of the shifting world addressed restriction and shielding energy, creating an amplified imagery at one of the main coordination points. Interconnection was coming on strong, like never before, and individuals the world over, struggling with their own self imposed boundaries, sought for release en masse and joined together to support and encourage each other.

    It had been an exhilarating time, but also a frustrating one. Interpretations of the words and messages of perceived authorities became mass beliefs, and for a time the restrictions increased. Those adhering to traditional authorities repeated the party lines, and the so called “new agers”, rooting for change but at the same time terrified of it, and in no small measure, terrified of other people and different cultures, created new mass beliefs based on their old fears. The strongest new age belief was a translation of channeled advice, construed from the vague “focus on the positive” to mean “ignore anything you can’t bear to acknowledge”. Rather than accept differences, initially masses of well meaning individuals criticized anyone endeavouring to acknowledge and accept the global situation, and pushed their advice to ignore the horrors, for fear that they would unwillingly bring anything unpleasant to their own attention. It was ironic to Lisa that the ones advocating not to judge, were the ones that judged her the most for her actions, and the activists judged her far less, while not advocating less judgement at all.

    #3382

    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.

    #3379
    F LoveF Love
    Participant

      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.

      #3378

      Elephants are not used to jump out of planes with a parachute in our reality. So when Lisa noticed a growing shadow around them. She raised her head and it took some time for her to make sense of what she was looking at. The huge grey butt of an elephant approaching relatively fast, desperately eager to establish contact.

      It landed on Sanso who knocked by the shock fall into the bog. Now; there are certain chemicals in the bog that induce the hibernation process in a physical body. Sanso reacted to it quickly, blinked out of the island and found himself in a stasis between worlds.

      “Sorry”, seemed to say the elephant with the cry elephants usually do. Then, it disappeared.

      The three lone travelers looked at each other, feeling deeply lost.

      :fleuron:

      Jube the Brave was having fun, playing his mass belief organ like a jazz musician.

      #3374
      Jib
      Participant

        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.

        #3370

        She was stroking the black cat who was complained loudly at the unwanted massage, when the messenger arrived at her door.

        “The King’s Chamberlain would like a word… in private” was all the footman had said.

        “Doesn’t look a slight bit suspicious to you?” the cat told her, shaking and licking the human scent off its fur.
        “Of course it does, don’t come if you don’t want to.” She replied smugly, wrapping her cloak around her despite the sizzling sun and the humidity.

        She followed the messenger, wondering what required such discretion.

        “A weighty matter indeed,” Downson said to her when she arrived at the rendezvous point under a vaulted passageway at a point where the sounds were cancelled out and voices could share deepest secrets in all discretion. “The P’hope has spies in many places… And at least I know of him, so he is not even the most dangerous one, I fear…”

        She was not of many words. Seeing that, the Chamberlain’s continued.
        “There are forces at play that conspire against the King’s rule.”
        She couldn’t help but raise an eyebrow.
        “I know what you think, people should be self-governed, but you can see it another way, people’s leaders are also the expression of their beliefs. But never mind the philosophy… You are uniquely talented for a rescue mission.”
        “What do you mean?”
        “You know have powerful allies… tools,… and dragons too, if the tales are true…”
        She tittered softly. The tales were true, all of it except about the dragons being powerful allies for some rescue quest. Dragons were lazy dreamers, or at least the ones she used to know. She replied with magnanimity “Let’s assume I’m the person you need for this mission… What is my compensation for it… And don’t serve me platitudes about the travel being all that matters. That grumpy cat needs to eat.”
        The cat suddenly turned his eyes into the cutest kitty eyes he could do. It would have melted the heart of the most stone-hearted villain in an instant.
        Well played, Mandrake she winked at the cat telepathically.

        “Well, word has it that you are on a quest to astral, and maybe I could help with that.”
        “Continue…”
        “I could arrange an interview with the Fisher Count. As an entrusted Guardian of the Saint Amber Graastral Stone Cup, he could grant you a drink from it.”
        “Tell me more about whomever I’m supposed to rescue?”

        At the sound of footsteps, he stopped, and pushed her towards a column out of sight.

        “Oh, it’s only a cat” the soldier said, continuing his round unaware of the two.

        As soon as the other had left, Downson resumed his talk in hurried tone and quicker sentences.
        “I have good reasons to believe a young girl with great desire to prove herself was sent many years ago to the Fog Abyss as a rite of passage, but she was tricked and left for dead there. The magi who were supposed to protect her only said they had lost her. But something else happened. Last night, one of them came to me full of guilt. He was visited in a dream by an apparition of the young girl and her guardian angel. Something horrible had happened, but she told him she forgave him and that she was alive and well. You need to bring her back to us, and be discrete about it. Somebody wanted her dead and buried, and will stop at nothing to complete the task if they find out she’s alive.”

        Before the Chamberlain left, he turned back and told her:
        “Better be quick to leave, I shall have all that you require prepared for you. And a word of advise… you can trust no one, Arona.”

        #3367

        Irina turned to little Greenie, who had so far only communicated in body langage, and little more than grunts.

        “Dearie,” she took the little face in her hand to look her in the eyes. There was slight resistance in the girl’s, but she was compliant enough that the feedback encouraged Irina to continue. “I believe, you know how to talk, this grunting telepathic business is getting tedious, and Mr R isn’t telepathic, you see…”
        “But Madam…” Mr R’s beginning to protest was quickly hushed by Irina.
        “You understand, don’t you?… Yes you do. Communicate with me, okay? You’ve been there longer than I am, and we probably can help each other.”

        Greenie’s eyes were showing clear signs of intelligence, and yet, there was some trauma still at the surface that she seemed to process, which made interaction tricky.

        Greenie pointed at the place were Irina had tried to meditate for the past hours.
        “Oh no, not again…” she sighed. She sat again cross-legged, but this time Greenie wasn’t finished.
        “What is? What are you trying to tell me?” Irina was confused. She hoped it was not about praying, but then realized that Greenie wanted to join.

        So they sat in front of each other, with Greenie’s small palms pressed to hers, and again started to meditate.
        “Mr R, some music of the angels, if you will”

        After a while, Mr R’s lulling music managed to appeased even the confused Huhu, and Irina started to feel a difference, as though she had broken out of her mind, and could connect to the teen girl in their light bodies.

        #3365
        Jib
        Participant

          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.

          #3362
          Jib
          Participant

            The bellboy, whose name was Kevinlol, as Linda Pol had found out thanks to her e-zapper, had led the Queen of drags to the fifth floor.

            The short trip down with the main elevator had been most interesting. It was designed to look like a richly decorated wooden door opening to the temple of games. The usual mirror on the walls of the cabin had been replaced by a huge screen which showed hosts or hostesses in sumptuous attires welcoming you like Ulysses sirens. Nobody coming out of the elevator, you were fully submerged by promising images of luxury and endless pleasures, endless wins. Looking at the blush on the customers faces and their fidgeting, it seemed to work well.
            The use of Feng Shui seems to have evolved through time, she thought amused, from simple well being philosophy to overt mental and emotional manipulation.

            A particular scent, she had already smelled in Las Vegas, made her realized that there were also chemicals released to create in anticipation that fleeting euphoria people would desperately try to recreate through the excitement of the games. Knowing it, could help you stay centered, but her heartbeat became faster and she felt the compulsion to get more, she realized it was hard to resist the temptation.

            When the doors actually opened to the second floor below earth, more than half the contingent of people got out towards the casino. The sirens were here to drag you down with their smiles. Linda Pol looked at the customers, they were more than willingly sucked into the gaming world of cards and chips, ready to open their pockets and their souls to the conniving croupier.
            Beware of the number you choose, she thought, the bank may not like them.

            A quick look at Kevinlol showed he was totally oblivious to the sirens. His poker face was as smooth and young as ever, his pupils looked normal, and his skin tone hadn’t changed despite the chemicals.
            Robot? She couldn’t help the thought.
            The third floor was restaurants and bars, huge spiraling automatic stairs seemed to connect it directly with the casino, certainly to help people find their way up when they were finished refueling. The dozing effect of digestion was certainly good for business.

            Then they arrived at the fifth floor. She wondered briefly what had happened to the first and fourth floors. But the doors opened to another kind of sirens, her attention shifted completely, more surely than any substance could have done. It was the kind of butts she couldn’t resist, promising firmness and endurance, set into a Imperio Dareme pair of jeans. Linda Pol had always thought that braces had the same effect on a man’s butt as a wonderbra on a woman’s breast. She blushed like a young girl discovering boys were interested in her mythical virginity.

            The butt turned around and, mother f*ck*r, the face was gorgeous. Two days beard on a square jaw, the adventurer.

            #3354

            Adeline was pleased to see that her fervent prayers to the statue of The Holy Mother of Plastic had been answered, and that Igor had made a full recovery from the bee stings. Mirabelle, meanwhile credited herself with her tender love and nursing and the cucumber cure, while Igor credited himself with his self healing abilities and healthy resilient young body.
            When Adeline found out that Igor was going to accompany Mirabelle, who was going with Lisa, who was joining Fanella and Sanso, on a trip to a mysterious island, she was in a quandary. Should she go with the other two maids? Was it important that they stick together? But what about Boris? Should Boris and Ivan come too?

            #3351

            Drawn magnetically towards the mannequin stretched out on Lisas’s kitchen table, Sanso forgot all about coffee ~ or indeed polite small talk. As Lisa prattled on, disjointed snippets interspersed with snorts and raucous laughter, Sanso inspected the map covered body before him, and the sea of torn maps underfoot. He circled the table, examining the body and scattered detritus from all angles and perspectives, his mind firing (and sending sparks to relevant departments) at all the connecting routes that caught his attention of particular or potential interest to the current thread of events.

            #3342

            “I don’t know!” Jeremy shouted at the guy with the round spectacles and the Chinese traditional garments full of intricate Chinese button knots.

            The guy showed no sign of losing patience although they’d asked him the question whole morning long.
            “That is unfortunate, Jeremy” the guy in charge said slowly. He was stroking Max in long broad stokes, flattening the ears with his palms, while the cat was purring like an engine oblivious to the danger in the room. “As you know, there are many ways to skin a cat…”

            “Don’t you dare harm Max!”

            “So let us recap from the start” the Chinese man said. “You told us you don’t know the man, or his companion. That they appeared and disappeared in a rag, to destination unknown.”
            Jeremy nodded, trembling of rage at the way the man was holding his cat.

            The Chinese man gave a brush of hand, which all the goons in the apartments took as a cue to leave them two alone.
            When they were all gone, he tightened his grip around the cat’s soft neck, and leaned closer to Jeremy:

            “My friend, the trace we left in our fugitive’s stomach led us to your place, so there is no doubt he was there. How he disappeared again is a mystery you will help us solve, whether you want it or not.”

            Jeremy looked at him quizzically “so why don’t you use your trace to locate him again?”

            “The problem is, by now, either he’s digested and dumped it somewhere in a hot steaming pile of shit, or he’s managed to cloak the signal. Those things were to be expected. I guess he went to you for a reason. He wasn’t able to locate our thief’s location without your help. So now, you will help us do the same.”

            Jeremy protested “But we tried it already, with the cucumber and all, but it didn’t work!”
            Somehow, a thought came with brief and intense clarity to him. The Chinese man noticed the glimmer in Jeremy’s eye and smiled thinly.
            “What is it?”
            “The map was working for him, as well as the cucumber, for some unexplainable reason. But not for you or me, it doesn’t mean anything! Of course! We have to try something different, focus on finding the person or thing you want, and let me draw another map.”

            Cheung Lok was starting to feel closer than he had been in months. He untied Jeremy, and gave him the cat. “Do it, do it now.”

            Jeremy lifted Max, tenderly wrapping the cat’s soft body like a scarf on his shoulders. He reached for the wall and took a coloured pin off the cork-board.

            While the Chinese guy was busy calling back his goons, Jeremy quickly started to draw on the skin of his arm a symbol with swirly lines, and going in a trance, started to dance into a swirling vortex.

            “He’s escaping!” Cheung Lok shouted in Chinese to the others, “Catch him!” he said, striving, but only too late, to catch the youngster who had just disappeared with his cat inside the vortex which was already rapidly closing around them.

            #3340

            I’ve been such a fool! Running away like that! Fanella admonished herself, biting her nails and pacing up and down in her room. I wasn’t paying attention! I should have stayed with that funny man, now I feel sure he would have taken me to that island in 2121 if I had just been patient instead of running off like that!
            Fanella heard a man laughing, and spun around, but there was nobody there. Dear god, I’m hearing things now, she thought.
            “I’m coming to get you, you daft bint, just hang on and don’t go anywhere!” Sanso told her via telepathic means. “We have a few other calls to make as well, but I will come and fetch you first, even if I have to use every shoehorning trick in the book. Now stop sniveling and I suggest you dress appropriately.”
            Fanella started sobbing, unsure whether it was relief or apprehension.
            “There, there,” Sanso said kindly. “You have a good cry, it will do you good.”

            #3332

            The bell rang twice. Nobody was giving any sign of opening, until a lanky lad came at the door to open it, in long slow dragging strides on the carpeted floor.

            “We’re here for the audition” an excited face pressed on the glass door, staining it with purple lipsticky marks.

            The lad discreetly rolled his eyes, looked right and left, as if checking for some unseen danger, then released the magnetic lock. It was stuck, so he gave a yank and the door flung open, almost propelling the woman, and a child inside.

            “This way” the lad showed them, guiding them in unnerving slow motion towards a room on the higher floor of the loft. A dozen of people were already waiting here. The lad showed them the ticket dispenser, and the child with the woman understood before her they had to pick one. 39.

            The woman brushed the hair of the child compulsively and fought against invisible specks of dust on his coat, before they would sit.

            “Twenty two.”
            “Twenty. Two.”

            At the seat next to them, a child raised from his place, his mother pushing him towards the voice. This was as far as she could go with him.

            After the child had disappeared in the next room, the purple lipstick woman leaned towards the lonely mother and started to talk to her in brisk hushed voice.
            “You must be so proud… I’m proud too.”
            Noticing reproaching looks from the others, she lowered her voice more.
            “I was so excited when I heard about it… So many years and now. Imagine that, my son could become his disciple, imagine, his one and only disciple in years…”

            The other woman, who’d been patiently hearing the other one’s cackling suddenly turned red and replied in a voice that bore the certainty of a death sentence:
            “Oh, but make no mistake M’am, I have nothing against your son, but no one will beat my Paul to it.”

            #3330

            With the aid of the holographic map, Irina, Mr R and little Greenie have been exploring the island.
            The next day they found a crashed plane from Aeroflot, not very far from their own landing spot. It was half burried in the mud and covered in green mossy vegetation. The doors were open as an irresistible invitation to enter.

            “A surprise, Mr R. I thought that this place was on your map. If I remember well, it didn’t show such an object.”
            “Forgive me, madam, indeed this plane wasn’t there when I triangulated the map I showed you.”
            “You mean it’s fresh ?” Irina’s voice seemed to suddenly carry some interest. “Maybe we can find some survivors”, she added, already doubting it considering all the moss on teh metallic shell.
            “I’m afraid we won’t, madam. I didn’t want to bother you with that little detail until I was sure. There are objects on this island that only appear after a certain date. Have you noticed it also happens with the vegetation and the insects ?”
            Irina pouted, “I prefer leaving that to your expertise.”
            “Of course, madam”, said the robot, affable. “The paradox is…”
            “Another paradox ? How interesting.”
            “…that it doesn’t seem to include us, or that little person.”
            “Any idea what the implications are ?” Irina began to wonder if there was any danger of being stuck permanently on this island.
            “I have several hypothesis”, he began, “The most probable is the lost room hypothesis. We arrived there through time space displacement and are not a natural part of this environment, hence we don’t change with its natural environment or inhabitants because we are not under it’s time sequence according to the Lehmon’s law.”

            Irina pouted. She looked at little greenie and thought of the implications about how their new friend arrived there. Whenre did she come from ? For her to be a bog mummy, she must have been there a long time. Or did she arrived already bogged ?
            Something caught her attention about the plane and distracted her of further thinking about the subject of their continuity risk in this place. The logo of the plane looked not so oldish.
            “Mr R. ? What do you think the date of the crash was ?”
            “The plane was lost in 2112.”

            Without further thought about safety, she entered the plane, followed first by little Greenie as she have been calling her new protegee, and by the robot who despite still talking about technicalities of accidental space time crossing theory, had turned on his speleo lights.

            Interestingly enough, Irina noted the clothes on the chairs or in the alleyways, here a pair of glasses, there a necklace, all layered as if the person wearing them had been puffed away.

            “Well, well, what have we here ? The light Mr R, please,” said Irina with as much excitement as a snail. He obliged her with his usual professionalism, revealing a teal blue scarf with pistachio green spirals. She took the cloth and stretched it to have a better look. It was one of those artistic kind of hippy abstract patterns connecting you to the cosmos.
            “I can’t think of anybody who would buy that thing, maybe she stole it from one of those duty free shops before they took off,” she said as petulantly as a pitfall trap.
            “Come here little Greenie, it’s time to make you pretty.”

            Irina did not have the chance to play with dolls when she was a kid, she didn’t know if she had some psychological lack or a bad doyle dating from that unremembered period of her life. She had compensated by toying with real people, playing with their emotions and deeper needs, or what they thought they needed. She became an expert at manipulating others, which gave her her first job in insurances, and then in the secret services. But then, she dealt with adults, showing emotions, or a certain level of brain activity. She wasn’t used to children stored in bogs.

            She tried to put the scarf on Greenie’s head, and to smile like she had seen people do in the movies. Although something unexpected happened. Greenie became suddenly distressed and agitated. Then, she punched Irina in the face and began to mumble incoherent things.
            That child is stronger than I thought. And at the same time, she noticed a name in that gibberish. Didnt she just shout : “I frigging love you, Sadie Merrie.”

            “Her brainwave is showing unusual activity”, stated Mr R. “And my sensors indicate the presence has returned, with some friends. They just appeared outside of the plane.”

            #3325

            “You call that a contract…” Reginald and his two friends, to varying degrees, managed to keep queenly looks in their royal blue dungarees. “I call that being royally fucked…”

            “Oh shut up and mop!” Cedric had become the most sullen and despondent about the whole thing, and would only reply by short sentences.

            Amar was the most philosophical about the whole situation “Let’s see it that way, cleaning up the Time Sewers isn’t so bad; they’re no longer in use, we ain’t got nobody on our backs,… the pay isn’t fabulous, but we are!”

            “Nobody heard about Linda? or Sadie?” Amar’s question was interrupted by a call on Cedric’s phone. His mother again.

            When he hung up, Amar resumed his litany of questions and monologue, as an excuse for not mopping around. “Still haven’t told your mum, hmmm?”

            Cedric ignored the last question “No, I haven’t heard about Linda Fucking Pol, or Sadie. Bitches.”

            #3322
            Jib
            Participant

              Igor snapped into a beehive.
              He had no clue where or when he was,
              so busy was he to escape the bees.

              He wasn’t as good at antiporting
              as that funny hussy Fanny.
              The bitch! The beach! Bees don’t like water, he thought in his Russian mother tongue.

              He didn’t dare open his mouth too wide,
              Lest some of the inhabitants of the busy nest found a way inside.
              Poor Igor, poor Pinkin, his body will always avoid bees.

              #3315
              ÉricÉric
              Keymaster

                Some character development, obviously not quite canon material…

                The Arousing Scarf
                – a short story

                by Ewkmon

                Sadie Merrie had always hated derelict Birmingham with its zesty, zealous zoos. It was a place where she felt snappy.

                She was a mysterious, freakish, algae smoothie drinker with ginger arms and supple hair. Her friends saw her as a successful, sad saint. Once, she had even helped a clear batty old crone recover from a flying accident. That’s the sort of woman he was.

                Sadie walked over to the window and reflected on her dusty surroundings. The storm teased like rampaging rabbits.

                Then she saw something in the distance, or rather someone. It was the figure of Sadie’s sister Moanie. Sadie’s sister was an awkward succubus with funny arms and impressive hair.

                Sadie gulped. She was not prepared for Sadie’s sister.

                As Sadie stepped outside and Sadie’s sister came closer, she could see the mysterious glint in her eye.

                “I am here because I want revenge,” Sadie’s sister bellowed, in a glamourous tone. She slammed her fist against Sadie’s chest, with the force of 3750 grumpy cats. “I frigging love you, Sadie Merrie.”

                Sadie looked back, even more mad and still fingering the arousing scarf. “Sadie’s sister, I love you,” she replied.

                They looked at each other with cheery feelings, like two talented, thankful twin piggies drinking at a very generous funeral, which had jazz music playing in the background and two slim uncles flying to the beat.

                Suddenly, Sadie’s sister lunged forward and tried to punch Sadie in the face. Quickly, Sadie grabbed the arousing scarf and brought it down on Sadie’s sister’s skull.

                Sadie’s sister’s funny arms trembled and her impressive hair wobbled. She looked vindicative, her body raw like a breakable, blue-eyed broom.

                Then she let out an agonising groan and collapsed onto the ground. Moments later Sadie’s sister Moanie was dead.

                Sadie Merrie went back inside and made herself a nice drink of algae smoothie.

                THE END

                #3310

                “Did anybody see Fanella?” Lisa couldn’t help but regularly count her herds (so to speak), and although she wasn’t as authoritative with her friends as she was with her animals, she couldn’t help but notice those last few times that her count was one person short —enough to start worrying her. And everybody knew what worrying did to her.
                “Oh, she’s probably somewhere lost on one of her walks, I’ve asked her to get me some new plastic materials…” Adeline snapped absentmindedly. “And when did you get back from your vacation?”

                Lisa ignored the last part. “That’s the thing, she hasn’t showed up for a while now, and I’m starting to get worried…”

                Everyone suddenly looked at her funny at the mention of the W-word.

                “Maybe you’re right, let’s go look for her… Last time she was ranting about getting lost…”
                “Did you check her makeshift atelier near the cave on the beach?” Etienne happened to overhear the conversation and somehow always seemed to know about the whens and wheres of everybody.

                “I don’t know,… yes, you’re right, maybe we can start there…” Lisa said, breathing deeply “I get a feeling something is not quite right …”
                She turned to Mirabelle and Adeline “you two are coming with me, you know her better than I do, toot toot!”

                #3308
                Jib
                Participant

                  “Madame, a message from your mother. She’s waiting for you in her room.”

                  Linda Pol, ensconced in a lumpy chair at the hotel bar, got confused at the mention of her mother. She had forgotten for a moment that it was the code for her meeting with Amber Graystone. The boy was wearing the hotel livery, the fur was a perfect fit on that young body. He must have been eighteen, at least, it was illegal in most states to employ underage personnel. He was presenting her a folded paper on a silver plate. That was so cliché, the Management should keep up to date with the latest unusual methods.

                  She took the paper delicately. Thick, three hundred grams at least. Grainy yet satin-smooth. She thought the Management had money issues. She opened it and saw a single number inside. 88857.

                  “There must be a mistake, mon ami. Certainly your hotel is big, but it doesn’t have so many stories.”
                  The boy smirked.
                  “Please follow me, I’ll show you the way. Oh, and keep the card with you.”

                  Linda Pol had become cautious with age, but she had to admit the thrill of adventure and mystery was exciting. Especially presented on a silver plate by such a gorgeous minion. Something she hadn’t felt often lately.

                  She smiled, stretched her left arm and fluttered her fingers. Those chairs were so deep that you could’t get up without looking like getting out of the armpit of a gorilla. The boy helped her out, a surprised look on his face when she appeared to spring on her feet like a young damsel. Those morning fitness sessions were paying off after all.

                  “Show me everything”, she said with her best doe eyes.
                  Come on, Pol. He could be your son, she thought. The youngest, added her mother’s disincarnate voice.

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