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  • #5674

    “Damn it, too late again, Miss B won’t be pleased.”

    Ricardo was looking at the clandestine distillery from a distance. It had burst in flames a short while ago, and the local press was already covering the event.

    “But Sophie was right. Maybe there’s more to this particular… calling of hers.” Ricardo brandished his fake newsporter card in front of the officer at the police cordon and managed to slip unnoticed into the area. It had probably more to do with his ability to be unnoticed at times than it had to do with the card itself, but the card helped boost his confidence.

    There were a number of car trails leaving from the place, and the police would certainly take time to go through all of it thoroughly, including the rats’ and frogs’ trails if they could. But Ricardo didn’t care for meticulousness, but rather for efficiency, and of course, potent gossip. One trail in particular caught his eye.

    “You’re good at hiding in plain sight, Ric’, but you’re still a rookie.”

    Hilda was there, in all her usual flamboyance, hiding in plain extravagance. “You didn’t think Bossy would have let you without a senior chaperon?” she added cockily. “But I see you caught up on an interesting lead.”

    “How could you be there so fast? It’d been months we couldn’t reach you? And more importantly… How can’t anybody around see you, especially in this horrible, completely out-of-place mustard orange plastic leather suit?”

    Hilda guffawed “They can’t see what they can’t understand! You can’t imagine how invisible I become in America. They don’t understand diddly squat!” She turned intense again. “I was myself on a case, you see. A case of the mummies. Sanso told me I’d find a trail of clues at this place, but now it’s gone in flames, I started to wonder. Until I saw your interest in that particular one. It’s not a frog’s for sure,… or it’s got some big crummy tyres. I get a feeling it’s going to lead us to our next story.”

    “It better be.” Ric’ said glumily, “or Bossy isn’t going to be chipper about it.”

    “Not to worry, I’ll call my friend Blithe Gambol, P.I. to the help with the tracking and all. Could never beat her at the find-the-trail-on-gloogloo game.”

    #5654

    “What do you think about that last one?” Miss Bossy handed the scribblings to Ricardo.

    “Mmm, it might be a hit. Sophie’s remote viewing has been right on spot even if odder and odder. I guess it fits with the intent of our… I mean your newspaper, doesn’t it?”

    Miss Bossy glanced at Ricardo sideways, and adjusted her corsage with an élan of coquetterie she found very French, even for her repressed tastes. “You should get on it then, Ric’.”

    Ricardo looked surprised. Was it the recognition he was waiting for all these past months working hard behind the scenes. Not a promotion yet but… Or maybe, just because the usual writers Connie & Hilda weren’t around, off to somewhere only they had the secret.

    “Still, you must admit, investigating an alcohol made of rillettes does sound rather ludicrous, even for this newspaper, or even for Sweet Sophie.”

    “There might be more to cover, a tree hiding a forest. Besides, she was right about the reptiles falling in Miami during the cold snap! We missed that story… If only we’d jumped on it right away!”

    “What else you need? I told you to get on with it, chop chop!”

    “Maybe a promotion?…” he added tentatively.

    “You’re already staff writer by default dear…”

    “A raise then?”

    “Don’t push you luck. And you’ll book those tickets to Chickasaw, Alabama in charter. We’re not rolling in the dough, like the Yanks say.”

    #5574

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

    #4867

    In reply to: The Stories So Near

    ÉricÉric
    Keymaster

      As it happens…

      POP-IN THREAD (Maeve, Lucinda, Shawn-Paul, Jerk, [Granola])

      Maeve and Shawn-Paul have left the Inn in Australia to travel to Tikfijikoo. What they are still doing there is anybody’s guess. Might have do with dolls, and rolling with it.

      In Canada, Lucinda has enrolled in a creative fiction course, and is doing progress… of sorts.

      Granola managed to escape the red crystal she was trapped in, after it cracked enough due to the pull of her friends’ memories.

      FLYING FISH INN THREAD (Mater/Finly, Idle/Coriander/Clove, Devan, Prune, [Tiku])

      The Inn is back to its normal routine, after the bout of flu & collective black-out.

      Connie and Hilda have come out of the mines.

      The others, we don’t know.

      DOLINE THREAD (Arona, Sanso/Lottie, Ugo, Albie)

      In the Doline, Arona has reunited with Vincentius, but is not ready for a family life of commitments.

      NEWSREEL THREAD (Ms Bossy, Hilda/Connie, Sophie, Ricardo)

      Sharon, Gloria and Mavis, are undergoing some cool fun in the cryochambers for beauty treatments.

      Ms Bossy & Ricardo are speechless. Literally.

      LIZ THREAD (Finnley, Liz, Roberto, Godfrey)

      There’s always something happening. Listing it is not the problem, but keeping track is.

      DRAGONHEARTWOOD THREAD (Glynnis, Eleri, Fox/Gorrash, Rukshan)

      Rukshan is in the doldrums of the land of Giants’, an unexplored parallel dimension.
      Gorrash has started to crystallize back to life, but nobody noticed yet.

      Cackletown & the reSurgence (Bea, Ed Steam & Surge team, etc.)

      Ed is back to the Cackletown dimension after some reconnaissance job on the whole dolls story interference. Might have spooked Maeve a little, but given the lack of anything surgey, have sort of closed this case and gone back to HQ.

      #4817
      ÉricÉric
      Keymaster

        “It was a long and boring flight.” Shawn Paul yawned, happy to finally stretch his legs on the tarmac.
        Maeve rolled her eyes “I don’t know what you are complaining about, at least you managed to sleep throughout the whole thing, even the last bit on that horrid 6-seater plane. I honestly wonder how you managed…”

        Shawn-Paul grinned apologetically, “I think the baby bottles of nhum did the trick.”

        “I saw you glamouring the air attendant, didn’t know she’d bring you the whole inventory. Poor lass’ might have been a bit desperate for attention.”

        A man was at the main door with their names on a sign.

        Shawn-Paul sighed “how can they get it wrong everysingletime…”
        “Look at the bright side, you can still make it out… Shoon Pleul.” Maeve retorted with a bossy glimmer in her eye. “Come now…”

        “Hello Sir, happy to meet you, my name is Shaw…”
        “Don’t bother, SP, don’t you see he’s the driver, he probably can’t understand a word you just said.”
        “Yeah nah, t’is true M’am,” the driver replied. “Your mate’s Canadian accent is atrocious. Haere Mai to Tikfijikoo, right this way please.”

        #4800

        Ed Steam had called for a strategic team meeting this morning.
        He looked at his pocket watch. It was only a queerter to thriety, which meant they were all late, as usual. True that time was notoriously difficult to read in these alternate dimensions, but this particular dimension had been fairly stable since Bea was taking her homeopathic pills, keeping her sneezing fits under control, and all their identities rather clear.

        The next mission required a two pronged approach, with one part of the action on the Pacific Island where another doll was to be revealed, and the other at the Doctor’s lair.

        The Australian tunnels were still under observation, in case the murlocks that were crawling there would be awoken by the blunderous adventurers that had gone investigating.

        Frooteen past thriety. They wouldn’t come now. He probably shouldn’t have left the organization of the meeting to Aqua Luna.

        He looked at the next item on his agenda. “Interdimensional call to Miss Bossy.”

        True, he had to get her update on her investigation into the Doctor’s history. That would surely reveal clues as to his current whereabouts.

        #4781

        In reply to: The Stories So Near

        ÉricÉric
        Keymaster

          Newest developments

          POP-IN THREAD (Maeve, Lucinda, Shawn-Paul, Jerk, [Granola])

          Maeve and Shawn-Paul are travelling separately to the Australian bush, and end up together at the Flying Fish Inn where they discover they’ve been given the same coupons. Maeve is suspicious of a mysterious man following her.
          Maeve has an exchange with Arona, and sketches her and the cat for her collection of ideas for new dolls. They discover that Arona has the key from her doll.
          Little is said of what happened after Maeve’s Uncle Fergus appears in dramatic fashion.
          After the collective black-out, all bets are off as to the next steps.

          In Canada, Jerk is killing time at the mall, and Lucinda is possibly taking care of Fabio who might be distressed as he’s peeing the doormat regularly.

          Granola after hopping between threads and realities, detected a psychic blast from the Doctor and while trying to investigate, ended up trapped in a tiny red crystal at the Doctor’s lair.

          FLYING FISH INN THREAD (Mater/Finly, Idle/Coriander/Clove, Devan, Prune, [Tiku])

          After the dramatic arrival of Fergus and the guests, some flirting of Sanso and Idle, Mater’s fashion show, Prune has decided to get back to school after an indigestion of medicinal lizard.

          Some of the guests, namely Connie and Hilda have gone to explore the mines. Possibly with Devan and Bert in tow.

          Fergus has mysteriously disappeared after the black-out.

          DOLINE THREAD (Arona, Sanso/Lottie, Ugo, Albie)

          Arona, Ugo, Albie and Mandrake have left the Australian Inn, after a dramatic chase by unknown assailants, possibly the magpies sent by the Doctor. They reappear in the Doline, in Leörmn’s pool, having managed to get the magpies off their trail.

          NEWSREEL THREAD (Ms Bossy, Hilda/Connie, Sophie, Ricardo)

          The Doctor has managed a psychic event of dramatic proportions. He’s noticed a glowing red crystal that seems to have interfered with his machine. He’s starting to study it, and unravel its secrets.

          Sharon, Gloria and Mavis, the dynamic trio is planning their escape from the nursing home. The psychic blast seems to have alerted Gloria somehow as to the fate of Granola (B), as she somehow guess it’s linked to the Doctor’s experiments (beauty treatments). They plan to go there to investigate (after a fashion).

          LIZ THREAD (Finnley, Liz, Roberto, Godfrey)

          Finnley has disappeared, Liz and Godfrey are to fend for themselves.

          DRAGON 💚 WOOD THREAD (Glynnis, Eleri, Fox/Gorrash, Rukshan)

          Muriel has left the cottage, and our friends are preparing their travel to the Land of Giant, while some tales are told.
          Glynnis is teaching bits to a birds’ choir.

          #4747

          In reply to: The Stories So Near

          ÉricÉric
          Keymaster

            WHERE ARE THEY ALL NOW ? 🗻

            a.k.a. the map thread, and because everything happens now anyway.

            POP-IN THREAD (Maeve, Lucinda, Shawn-Paul, Jerk, [Granola])

            🌀 [map link] – KELOWNA, B.C., CANADA

            It looks like our group of friends live in Canada, Kelowna.

            Kelowna is a city on Okanagan Lake in the Okanagan Valley in the southern interior of British Columbia, Canada. The name Kelowna derives from an Okanagan language term for “grizzly bear”. The city’s motto: “Fruitful in Unity”

            Interestingly, Leörmn the dragon from the Doline may have visited from time to time : Ogopogo / Oggie / Naitaka

            FLYING FISH INN THREAD (Mater/Finly, Idle/Coriander/Clove, Devan, Prune, [Tiku])

            Though very off the beaten track, the Flying Fish Inn may be located near a location that was a clue left as a prank by Corrie & Clove on the social media to lure conspiracy theorists to the Inn.
            🔑 ///digger.unusually.playfully

            It seems to link to a place near documented old abandoned mines.

            🌀 [map link]  – SOME PLACE IN THE MIDDLE OF AUSTRALIA, OFF ARLTUNGA ROAD

            DOLINE THREAD (Arona, Sanso/Lottie, Ugo, Albie)

            This one is a tricky geographical conundrum, since the Doline is a multi-dimensional hub. It connects multiple realities and places though bodies of water, with the cave structure (the Doline) at its center, a world on its own right, where talking animals and unusual creatures are not uncommon.

            It has shown to connect places in the Bayou in Louisiana, where Albie & Mandrake went to see the witch, as well as the coastal area of Australia, where they emerged next in their search for Arona.

            At the center of the Doline is a mysterious dragon named Leörmn, purveyor of precious traveling pearls and impossible riddles. We thus may infer possible intersection points in our dimension, such as 🔑 ///mysterious.dragon.riddle a little North of Hawaii, in the middle of the Pacific Ocean.

            However, the inside of the Doline would look rather like Phong Nha-Ke Bang gigantic cave in Vietnam.

            NEWSREEL THREAD (Ms Bossy, Hilda/Connie, Sophie, Ricardo)

            It is not very clear where our favourite investigative team is located. They are likely to be near an urban area with a well-connected international airport, given their propensity for impromptu traveling, such as in Iceland and Australia.

            For all we know, they could be settled in Germany: 🔑 ///newspapers.gone.crazy
            or Denmark 🔑 ///publish.odds.news

            As for the Doctor, we strongly suspect his current hideout to be also revealed when searching from his signature beautification prescription that has made him famous in connoisseur circles: 🔑 ///beauty.treatment.shot at the frontier of Sweden and Finland.

            LIZ THREAD (Finnley, Liz, Roberto, Godfrey)

            We don’t really know where the story happens; for that, one would need to dive into Liz’s turbulent past, and that would confound the most sane individual, starting with keeping count of her past husbands.

            As a self-made powerful best-selling writer, we could guess she would take herself to be the JK Rowling of the Unplotted Booker Prize, and thus would be a well-traveled British uptart, sorry upstart, with a fondness for mansions with character and gardeners with toned glutes. Of course, one would need the staff.

            DRAGON 💚 WOOD THREAD (Glynnis, Eleri, Fox/Gorrash, Rukshan)

            This story happens in another completely different dimension, but it can be interesting to explore some of its unusual geography.

            The World revolved around a central axis, and different worlds stacked one upon the other, with the central axis like an elevator.

            We know of

            • the World of Humans, where most of the story takes place
            • the world of Gods, above it, which has been sealed off, and where most Gods disappeared in the old ages
            • Under these two, the world of Giants exists, still to be explored.

            At the intersection of the central axis of the world and the human world, radiates the Heartwood, a mystical forest powered by the Gem of Creation which has been here since the Dawn of Times, and is a intricate maze, and a dimension in itself. It had grown around itself different woods and glades and forests, with various level of magical properties meant to repel intruders or lesser than Godlike beings.

            The Fae dimension is a particular dimension which exists parallel to the Human World, accessible only to Elder Faes, and where the race originated, and is now mostly deserted, as Faes’ magic waning with the encroachment of humans into the Forest, most have chosen to live in the Forests and try and protect them.

            #4744

            In reply to: The Stories So Near

            ÉricÉric
            Keymaster

              Newer developments

              POP-IN THREAD (Maeve, Lucinda, Shawn-Paul, Jerk, [Granola])

              Granola is popping in and out of the stories, exploring interacting more physically with her friends through Tiku, a bush lady focus of hers.
              Luckily (not so coincidentally) Maeve and Shawn-Paul were given coupons to travel from their rural Canada town to the middle of Australia. Maeve is suspicious of being followed by a strange man, and tags along with Shawn-Paul to keep a cover of a young couple. Maeve is trying to find the key to the doll that she made in her secret mission for Uncle Fergus, which has suddenly reappeared at her friend Lucinda’s place. She’ll probably is going to have to check on the other dolls that she made as well.
              Jerk continues to administrate some forum where among other things, special dolls are found and exchanged, and he moderates some strange messages.
              Lucinda is enjoying Fabio’s company, Maeve’s dog, that she has in her care while Maeve is travelling.

              FLYING FISH INN THREAD (Mater/Finly, Idle/Coriander/Clove, Devan, Prune, [Tiku])

              The mysteries of the Flying Fish Inn seem to unravel slowly, like Idle’s wits.
              Long time family member are being drawn inexplicably, such as Prune and brother Devan. The local bush lady Tiku is helping Finly with the catering, although Finly would rather do everything by herself. The totemic Fish was revealed to be a talisman placed here against bad luck – “for all the good it did” (Mater).
              Bert, thought to be an old flame of Mater, who’s acted for the longest time as gardener, handyman and the likes, is revealed to be the father of Prune, Devan, Coriander and Clove’s mother. Mater knew of course and kept him around. He was trained in codes during his time with the military, and has a stash of potentially dangerous books. He may be the key to the mystery of the underground tunnels leading to the mines, and hidden chests of gold. Devan is onto a mystery that a guy on a motorbike (thought to be Uncle Fergus of Maeve’s story) told him about.

              DOLINE THREAD (Arona, Sanso/Lottie, Ugo, Albie)

              Mandrake & Albie after a trip in the bayou, and looking for the dragon Leormn’s pearls and the sabulmantium, have finally found Arona after they have emerged from the interdimentional water network from the Doline, to the coast of Australia in our reality, where cats don’t usually talk.
              Albie is expecting a quest, while the others are just following Arona’s lead, as she is in possession of a mysterious key with 3 words engraved.
              After some traveling in hot air balloon, and with a local jeep, they have arrived at a local Inn in the bush, with a rather peculiar family of owners, and quite colorful roster of guests. That’s not even counting the all-you-can-eat lizard meat buffet. What joy.

              NEWSREEL THREAD (Ms Bossy, Hilda/Connie, Sophie, Ricardo)

              Ms Bossy is looking to uncover the Doctor’s surely nefarious plans while her newspaper business isn’t doing so well. She’s got some help from Ricardo the intern. They have found out that the elderly temp worker who’s fascinated by the future, Sophie (aka Sweet Sophie) had been the first subject of the Doctor’s experiments. Sophie has been trying to uncover clues in the dreams, but it’s just likely she is still a sleeper agent of the Doctor.
              Despite all common sense and SMS threats, Hilda & Connie have gone in Australia to chase a trail (from a flimsy tip-off from Superjerk that may have gone to Lucinda to her friend journalist). They are in touch with Lucinda, and post their updates on social media, flirting with the risk of being uncovered and having trouble come at their door.
              Sha, Glo and Mavis are considering reaching out for a vacation of the nursing home to get new free beauty treatments.
              In his secret lair, the Doctor is reviving his team of brazen teafing operatives: the magpies.

              LIZ THREAD (Finnley, Liz, Roberto, Godfrey)

              Not much happened as usual, mostly an entertaining night with Inspector Melon who is quizzing Liz’ about her last novel about mysterious messages hidden in dolls with secret keys, which may be her best novel yet…

              DRAGON 💚 WOOD THREAD (Glynnis, Eleri, Fox/Gorrash, Rukshan)

              Before Rukshan goes to the underworld land of Giants, he’s going to the cottage to gather some of his team of friends, Fox, Ollie etc. Glynis is taking care of Tak during Margoritt’s winter time in the city. Margoritt’s sister, Muriel is an uninvited and unpleasant guest at the cottage.
              Tak is making friends with a young girl who may have special powers (Nesy).
              The biggest mystery now is… is the loo going to get fixed in time?

              #4738
              TracyTracy
              Participant

                “Perhaps it’s an anagram,” Ricardo ventured tentatively, “Look: INNFOODAWFUL is an anagram of “I found lawn of”, see?” He cleared his throat nervously, demoralized by the agitated energy in the room. Everyone was looking at him expectantly, so he bumbled on: “All we need to do it work out the rest…”

                Exasperated looks were exchanged around the room, making Ricardo feel a fool. He was just about to excuse himself for a trip to the lavatory to wring his hands in private (hangovers always had that effect on him), when Miss Bossy tart herself piped up excitedly, “Wait a minute, by George I think he might be on to something!”

                Sophie cast a skeptical eye in her direction, as Ricardo plopped back down in his chair with an audible sigh of relief. He reached for his water bottle with a trembling hand and took a swig. God, his mouth was dry.

                AHOYSICKICONGRIN is “shack in Congo!” the Boss Tart continued. “Of course!” she said, slapping her forehead.

                Ricardo tittered.

                #4736

                “UN-BE-LIE-VA-BLE!” Miss Bossy was flustered. “The cheek of those two!”

                She was ranting, rather elegantly, with lipstick and all, as she’d found a little agitation to go a long way in expelling the sluggishness. Her meditation teacher, Lim Monk had told her “Abundance of quantity isn’t going to tempt you into a frenzy of delete, so long as you keep trying”; so she felt compelled to meditate the funk out of this no man’s plot.

                “They’ve been there for THREE DAYS, three bloody full days, with wifi and access, and they are only sending news now!”

                Ricardo was looking mutely at the scene, not daring to move a muscle.

                “Can you believe it, and to say I almost got worried about them!”
                “…”
                AND Look at the cryptic sheet they send me: QUOTE “Ahoy! Inn food awful, sick icon grin.” UNQUOTE. Now, what should I make of that?”

                She walked energetically to Sophie and planted her arms in front of her desk, waking up from her nap.

                Sophie blinked twice, and said:
                “I know you’re like me, fond about old-fashioned technology, but you should really consider throwing your pager to the waste bin; if you’d been on faecebrook, you’d see Hilda and Connie’s blog is pretty active. Look! They can’t stop posting stuff there, even when they were in the plane…”

                #4715

                Miss Bossy Pants was losing patience. If it weren’t for the heat spell that made her cat-like reflexes duller than usual, she would have shredded the hippie yurt that Ricardo had built for Sophie, that useless temp too fast promoted.

                She had to reason with herself, although she didn’t like that. Mostly because she always agreed with the devil on her shoulder. “OK, I’ll give them a chance to fish for key information.”

                Truth was, there was already enough evidence that Sophie’s brain was mush, and probably heavily tampered with by the Doctor. Who knows what that maniac might have planted as post-hypnotic suggestions in such a suggestible mind. There was little doubt that if she’d escaped, she was actually probably still a pawn he could control.

                She liked a worthy opponent. It would be so much more satisfying to crush him in the end.

                Her phone buzzed.
                “in oz, on ourwya to hippicenter gto grdbraeknig inforamton keep cool hilda &c.”

                Well there was good news after all. She started to list them to give her heart:

                1. Hilda remembered how to spell her own name
                2. She had not lost or broken her company phone
                3. They were not dead or maimed or enhanced yet, so clumsy as they were, they’d probably managed to stay off the radar of the Doctor.

                Of course, the other things she’d learned in that short moment was probably outweighing the silver lining:

                3. She had probably an insane roaming bill to the company phone
                4. They’d continued to max out the credit card to pursue the topic
                5. Clumsy as they were, it was surely a matter of time before they alerted the Doctor to their investigation.

                She thought quick and fast, while waving her fan figorously (it was a modesty hiding fan). Punching the screen of her phone, she typed.

                “Had breakthru too. Sophie was one of the dolls – need to find keys to dirty secrets & coded map to intercept = hashtag bigger than wee key leaks.”

                There, that should keep them occupied and well on track with the wild goose chase, while she devised a plan B.

                #4708
                Jib
                Participant

                  The thoughts of Miss Bossy asking him to torture sweet Sophie still bothered Ric while he went out to look for the reporter. Could he even call her that, he suspected most of her articles were fake news and even if they had at some point come from a seed of truth, they were so transformed by her retelling that it was impossible to prove them in any direction, be it false or true.

                  Ric found sweet Sophie sleeping on the couch of the waiting room in a very unwomanly position. Fortunately she didn’t wear a skirt. Her mouth was wide open and a stream of saliva was dropping from her chin. She even snored. Ric was put off by her pink trousers and electric blue jacket. Did she colour her hair? he thought. They looked a bit purple.

                  Sweet Sophie snorted and emerged from slumber totally unaware she was observed.

                  “Oh! Dear time travel Goddess! What a dream!” she said. “Ric. You come at the right time. I have to tell you some revelations about the Doctor!”

                  ***

                  “What?” asked Miss Bossy when Ric told her about Sophie’s dream. “Nonsense! Sweet Sophie having precognitive dreams? Time travel wasn’t enough for that old hag. And you’re saying she requested a daydreaming room to continue her investigations, with ambiant music and ayahuasca? I’m not financing her drug cravings.”

                  ***

                  Sophie entered the dark room. She didn’t think it would work, to ask Ric for the daydreaming room. She tried the couch. Soft but not too soft, hard enough for her back. Oh! Sweet Time Lord, what a relief from the open space chair. An instrument of torture if you asked her.

                  She had developed an obsession with the Doctor, and it all came from a dream she had just before Ric found her. In that dream, she was really attracted to the Doctor—who looked just like an old crush of her—, and he was showing her his amazing inventions, telling her about his superior mind, his poignant history and all the great things he did during his famous time. So…yeah. She kind of finally fell in love with him for the second time. Then he confessed her he was so sorry for what he did, it made her cry almost. He said it was stupid of him and he still thought she is his daughter— that’s when she thought she had lost track of the dream timeline and in another moment she found another crazy coincidence that turns every possible event to pure insane: The Doctor has a new body. Not in the literal sense. He hasn’t even given it a whole new look. Instead, it has a completely bizarre look with its entire body filled with…

                  That’s when she had awaken. That’s why she needed the couch and the room and the plant. She had seen in a video that it could help.

                  Someone knocked at the door and brought in a silver plate with a steaming muddy potion.

                  #4707

                  An unexpected shaman tart witch was looking and had spotted them coming from afar.

                  Head Shaman Tart Witch, if you please.” She muttered in her breath, happy to break the fourth wall and all.

                  The sun was already high and the air was sizzling ready to burst out like buttered pop corn.

                  “A rather lame metaphor. You’ve done better.”

                  The Head Shtart Witch, as we will call her later for brevity’s sake, was as tart as a sour lemon dipped in vinegar, and prone to talking to spirits, when not cackling in tittering fits of laughter, as shamans are wont to do.
                  She was surprisingly in tune with the narrator’s voice this late in the day, considering it wasn’t her first bottle of… medicine she ingested today.

                  “Voices are rather quiet, yes. I was expecting a bit more… quantity if you know what I mean.”

                  The narrator had absolutely no idea of what she meant, not discontent with the quantity per se.

                  Three in quantity, they came, looking for her. A girl, visibly in charge, although a bit hard to tell either, buried into the baggy hood and all.

                  “The star-studded stockings under the striped red and white trousers were a bit of a give-away though… she was a she, and a bossy pants to boot.” the Head Schwtich replied.

                  “And don’t take advantage to maim my full name… Jeeze, they’re so lazy these days. Can’t even spell right.”

                  Ignoring the rude comments, the narrator continued.
                  Then, a man, a bit namby-pamby with the gait of a devil-may-care goat at that.
                  And a boy, on the threshold of manhood, with lots of red hair and freckles he could have put the bush on fire.

                  “You have forgotten the gecko… and the cat.”

                  The cat wasn’t forgotten of course, but was it technically a cat, with the talking and all? Poor thing had ill-fitted boots (probably a clearance sale from the Jiborium’s), so that it wouldn’t burn its pads on the red hot trail. It seemed stubborn enough to refuse being carried, although not confident enough about the surrounding life in the bush to stop checking every minute for all that crawled and crept around.

                  “That’s why they’re here. The protective charms. That, and the jeep of course.”

                  The Twitch seemed to know everything so the narrator felt it would probably best to let her finish the comment.

                  “Oh, don’t you start. That passive aggressive attitude isn’t going to get your story done, is it. And it’s not like I’m going to follow them in their dangerous and futile quest. It’s your job, better get to it.”

                  Indeed, she was only just a sour, old, decrepit…
                  “You stop that!”

                  :fleuron:

                  “Is that her hut?” Albie pointed at the horizon.
                  “Yes, I think we’re there.” Arona looked at the compass she’d put around Albie’s neck. “Yes, that’s it.”

                  Sanso yawned and stretched lazily “I hope they have a hot shower now, I feel so dirty.”

                  Arona chose to ignore Sanso and let him gesticulate. They’d only walked for less than 15 minutes, and the perspective of few more hours of driving with him breathing down her neck started to give her murderous thoughts.

                  She turned to the team. “Listen, whatever happens, don’t make rude remarks, even if she seems a bit… unhinged.”

                  “Are you talking about the crazy lady with the chameleon on her head, who talks to herself and looks like she hadn’t got a bath in a century?”

                  “That’s what I meant Sanso.” Arona rolled her eyes in a secret signature move she owned the secret of. “Listen, it would be better for everyone if you’d stay here and stop talking until we get the keys to the jeep, alright.”

                  Luckily for all of them, a little sage smudging and a bakchich in kind sealed the deal with the HEAD Shaman Tart Witch, and less than an hour later, with the mountain at their back, they were all barreling at breakneck speed down the lone road towards the Old Mine Town.

                  That’s where the Inn was, now starting to crawl with unexpected guests and long lost family members.

                  #4705

                  Ric knees were shaking. He fumbled with the door knob, his voice barely audible as he faced Miss Boddy —he meant Bossy.

                  “We, we, we… We’re not seriously torturing poor old sweet Sophie, are you?”

                  Miss Bossy looked at Ric quizzically. “That’s what you thought we were doing? Do you think me demented?”

                  “Surely not, no! You’re very determined, distinguished… But demanding,…”
                  “Demented, Ric, please keep track, will you.”

                  She sighed, and dropped the wires. “Of course! This is a line that can’t be uncrossed.”

                  “And surely Sweet Sophie doesn’t need torture to spill the beans.”

                  “Why do you keep talking about torture? I was just rewiring the dual light switch. The electrician did such a poor job, the wires were all crossed, and it was driving me mad, you know. Having one switch up, and the other down… One up, the other down… Aargh!”

                  Ric’s face was mixed with relief and complete puzzlement.

                  “Enough talking about my OCDs, why Sweet Sophie isn’t here yet? Of course, we don’t need torture to get her to talk. That’s all she does besides sleeping. The tricky part will be to get her to focus of course. Can’t have her babble about WWII now, can we. That and her endless talking about time travel… Speaking of time, there’s hardly any to waste, there’s a mad Doctor on the loose doing awful human experiments on unsuspecting frail women to flush out, need I remind you.”

                  #4696

                  Ricardo!” Miss Bossy shouted from her office she was rearranging into an office cum interrogation room.

                  “Yes, M’am!”

                  “Any news from our two insubordinate scouts?”
                  “I’m afraid not M’am. Phone coverage isn’t that good in the bush I hear.”
                  “Stop that nonsense! What tells you they’re aren’t just squandering my newspaper’s money over unearned mojitos doing precious nothing like gator’s watching on a beach, hmmm?”
                  “I think they’d call that gathering clues M’am.”

                  If Ricardo hadn’t be so earnest, she would have slapped him in the face for his attempt at humour, but he was blissfully unaware of the unwanted irony and impertinence of his retort.

                  You’re going soft… she mused to herself, while snapping electrical wires together making a splash of sparkles in the air. The makeshift interrogation room was ready.

                  Ric’! Bring Sweet Sophie!”

                  #4687

                  Ric was confused as to why he found himself flushed and vaguely excited by Bossy Mam’s sudden and attractive outburst.
                  He was so glad the two harpies were off to goat knows where, or they would have tortured him with no end of gossiping.

                  Still troubled by the stirring of emotions, he looked around, and almost spilled the cup of over-infused lapsang souchong tea he had prepared. Miss Bossy was the only one to fancy the strong flavour in a way only a former chain smoker could.

                  Thankfully, she was still glaring at the window, and while he had no doubt he couldn’t hope to give her the slip for that sort of things, she probably had decided to just let it go.

                  He took the chance to run to the archives, and started to dig up all he could on the Doctor.
                  Sadly, the documents were few and sparse. Hilda and Connie were not known for their order in keeping records. Their notes looked more like herbariums from a botanist plagued with ADHD. But that probably meant there were lots of overlooked clues.

                  He flipped through the dusty pages for a good hour, eyes wet with allergies, and he was about to bring Miss Bossy the sorry pile he had collected when a light bulb lit in his mind.

                  How could I miss it!

                  He’d never thought about it, but now, a lot of it started to make sense.

                  Thinking about how Miss Bossy would probably be pleased by the news, he started to become red again, and hyperventilate.

                  Calm down amigo, think about your abuela, and her awful tapas,… thaaat’s it. Crème d’anchovies with pickled strawberries… Jellyfish soufflés with poached snail eggs on rocket salad.

                  His mind was rapidly quite sober again.

                  Taking the pile of notes, he landed it messily on the desk, almost startling Miss Bossy.

                  “Sorry for the interruption, M’am, but I may have found something…”
                  “Fine, there’s no need for theatrics, spill it!” Miss Bossy was ever the no-nonsense straight-to-business personality. Some would have called her rude, but they were ignorants, and possibly all dead now.

                  “There was a clue, hidden in the trail of Hilda’s collection. I’m not sure how we have missed it.”

                  “Ricardooo…” Miss Bossy’s voice was showing a soupçon of annoyance.

                  “Yes, pardon me, I’m digressing. Look! Right here!”

                  “What? How is it possible? Is that who I think it is?”

                  “I think so.”

                  They turned around to look across the hall at Sweet Sophie blissfully snoring.

                  “I think she was one of her first patient-slash-assistant.”

                  “How quaint. But, that explains a lot. Wait a minute. I thought none of his patients were ever found… alive?”

                  “Maybe she outsmarted him…”

                  They both weren’t too convinced about that. But they knew now old Sweet Sophie was probably unwittingly holding the key to the elusive Doctor.

                  #4685
                  F LoveF Love
                  Participant

                    “I used to win prizes you know,” Miss Bossy Pants sighed and rubbed her hand through her hair, leaving it in further disarray.

                    “I’m sure you did,” said Ric with a small smile which could have been interpreted as a smirk. Miss Bossy Pants decided to give him the benefit of the doubt.

                    “For journalism. One year, I received the top journalism prize for my investigative piece about the sausage industry. Cutting edge they called it. And now,” she frowned and looked out the window. “We must get someone to clean those. And now, I am a mere figurehead.”

                    Ric opened his mouth but Miss Bossy Pants held her hand up.

                    “A mere figurehead. Mocked and deriled. My staff, who I pay, follow whatever goddam leads they want and pay no attention to my explicit orders. You think I don’t know that?”

                    She glared at Ric.

                    “Quiet!” she said, slapping her hand on the desk and standing up so violently that her cup of tea trembled and sloshed over the sides. She glowered down at Ric, also trembling.

                    “This ends now! Get me everything we have on the Doctor. I want names of victims and any poor sod who is still alive you are going to interview! I am going to crack this goddam doll case wide open. He’s the one who is going to be goddam very very sorry.”

                    #4676

                    When Hilda received the message from her old friend Lucinda her first thought was Miss Bossy Pants award for the “Most Stylistic Synchronistic Article”. There was already a synchronicity because she’s also had a tip off from some guy calling himself “Superjerk”, which was also about dolls. If she followed the lead about the doll stories, and managed to connect them together, it could be the scoop of the year ~ whether or not there was an actual connection between them.

                    Hilda had made copious notes from the long and garbled telephone conversation with Lucinda about everything she knew thus far, and where she was stuck. Clearly the poor dear needed Hilda’s special expertise in following a lead and putting the clues together to form a picture. Admittedly Hilda didn’t always stick to facts ~ who did in journalism these days anyway! But she had an intuition that this was just what she needed to get her teeth into. It had been a boring year in the extreme reportage department. Extremely boring.

                    It had been years since Hilda had been in contact with Lucinda, and that had been on a remote viewing forum. Neither of them had been much good at it, but some of the other members had been brilliant, so it came in useful at times to use their expertise. Hilda made a mental note to rejoin that forum, if it still existed, or find another one. She changed her mind about the mental note, and jotted it down in her notebook. It was a good idea and could come in handy.

                    The short and cryptic note from the guy calling himself Superjerk didn’t provide much information other than the synchronicity, which was of course noteworthy. And he had provided the link to that website “findmydolls.com”. The story was already starting to show promising signs of weaving together.

                    Not wanting any of the other staff to cotton on to her new thread, Hilda told Miss Bossy Pants that she was going to investigate the “hum” in Cadiz. That peculiar Horns of Gabriel phenomenon that occurred randomly around the world had been heard over a wide area of Cadiz and Seville. Hilda had another old friend in that neck of the woods; so she could easily pretend she was there covering that story, with a bit of collaboration from her friend, while she embarked on the real journey to the Flying Fish Inn, in some godforsaken outpost of the outback.

                    That nosy Connie had somehow managed to find out about the whole thing, eavesdropping again no doubt, and Hilda had no option but to come clean with her and ask her to join her in ironing out the story. They would have to deal with Miss Bossy Pants later. If the scoop was the success that Hilda anticipated, then they would be getting an award, not a reprimand.

                    It was worth it. Hilda felt more alive than she had done in a long time.

                    #4673

                    “Do you remember when we ‘ad those beauty treatments with that nice doctor, Sha?”

                    “Oh, I do, Glor! You looked that drop dead gorgeous! You turned ‘eads.”

                    “So did you, Sha! You were a stunner!”

                    “Wot was ‘is name again? That doctor?”

                    Mavis will know. Why don’t you send ‘er one of those text thingammybobs everyone does nowadays and find out.”

                    “Good idea, Glor! Oh, you know wot!”

                    “Wot Sha? Tell me? I’m all agog. ‘Ave you ‘ad one of your bloody brainwaves?”

                    “I ‘ave! I’ve ‘ad a bloody brainwave … Let’s go for another beauty treatment with him! A touch up sort of thing!”

                    “Oh, Sha. Oh Sha! I’ve been rendered bloody speechless at your engineuity!”

                    “Wot was that girl’s name? You know, quite bossy … wot was she called again?”

                    “Oh, I know who you mean? bloody bossy tart, wasn’t she. And we tried so ‘ard to help ‘er.”

                    “We did. No bloody gratitude. Virginia, was it? Started with a ‘V’ I reckon.”

                    “Tip of my tongue, it is. I’m that excited about your bloody idea … I can’t remember my own name, let alone ‘er name!”

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