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  • #3195

    Mirabelle, did you have to bring that damn parrot? I can’t stand the endless squalking!” complained Adeline. “There is no respite, nowhere to go in this balloon to escape the endless nonsense talk of that bird.”
    Boris, always so resourceful, made her a pair of beeswax earplugs from one of the candles in the provisions basket that he had the foresight to bring.
    “My parrot has a name, you rude tart Adeline, her name is HuHu.” replied the wisest maid, adding prophetically, “You will be glad of her in due course, you can be sure of that.”

    #3171

    Just at that moment, Sadie’s lemon quote pinged through on the e-zapper.

    Just don’t stop bringing your impulses because they make up for wonderful unexpectedness, twists and turns and plot rebondissements.

    #3157
    AvatarJib
    Participant

      “Weehooo, I got the 57!”
      Casanova started, and almost got punched in the face by Father Balbi’s exhuberance.
      “Time to wake up, old man. I’m sure Cavagnol was interesting in your dreams, but it doesn’t bring us more money. If we could be so lucky as to foresee the future in your dreams, but experience showed us your accuracy doesn’t go well with wine and women.”

      Realizing where he was, father Balbi snorted and scratched his beard.

      #3135
      AvatarJib
      Participant

        Anna’s voice and young face trailed off as the Queen emerged from her dream. Confused for a moment, she tried to get rid off the undefinable guilt she always felt when dreaming about her late sister. You simply didn’t speak about Anna. And you couldn’t take pleasure in childish dreams.

        Her guilt soon transformed into a mild irritation and she frowned as she remembered the cavagnol game of the previous night. She had lost again. The amount didn’t really matter, it was more about the principle. She always lost. But she took a momentary pleasure in thinking that Jeanne-Antoinette also lost most of her bets.

        With a sigh, she looked at the big ornate windows. Someone had opened the heavy velvet curtains while she was still asleep, and it certainly didn’t help keep the air warm in that time of year. Nonetheless, she enjoyed seeing the sky when she woke up, even in winter time when it was still dark or like today, when the colours of dawn preceded the Sun. She couldn’t believe she had slept so long.

        It always was a too brief moment alone. As if summonned by magic, three maids entered the room silently, two of them holding her morning dress, that they carefully deposited on a chair, and the other holding the copper basin of fresh water for the Queen’s quick morning ablution. The maid put it on top of the sauteuse chest made of rose wood and carved beautifully. One of her daughters once told her that she swore the chest in her bedroom was alive and would jump on her bed at night to play with her.

        One thought leading to another, she looked at her collection of stuffed toy, unconsciously counting them and checking if they were all in order. She had two cabinets made of rose wood especially for her “friends” as she used to call them. She had begun to buy them after she almost died giving birth so long ago. At first it was just a simple gift from the King. She first thought it to be a lion, but apparently it was one of those Asian dogs. The finish was crude, it had small beady eyes and the curly tail didn’t hold very long on its bottom, but she developed a liking for it. And after a few weeks, she felt it needed a friend, so she had a lion made as a companion for her asian dog.
        Her ladies-in-waiting, began to bring her new ones, little dogs (she had a liking for them), zebras, fluffy cats and dwarf goats, she even had an owl and two rabbits, one white and one cerulean blue.

        Her eyes almost missed the twin ferrets, offered to her by Saint Germain after a gambling party. He had said they would bring her luck. She didn’t really liked them, they were scrawny and heavy, certainly weighted with lead.

        It was time to get up, she had her weekly Polish concert to organize. One of her small pleasures.

        #3121
        EricEric
        Keymaster

          Queen Marie, Our Good Queen, as the little gents liked to call her, had not been as excited at the prospect of the salon since a long time.
          She ringed the bell for the servant girl to bring more wood, as drafts of chilly air were coming from outside. Although quite modern and shiny, the palace was not as equipped for the cold season as the old castles from her mother land. Worse, with age and soft weather, she’d grown accustomed to being warm, and couldn’t bear the cold any longer.

          The crackling sound of the pine wood inside the small chimney was comforting and brought her back to her thoughts. A salon, full of delightful witty people, with laughters and costumes, entertainment and champagne wine. She’d heard a special batch of barrels from la Maison Ruinart would be brought especially for the Royalties. Of course, she knew most of those were small favors for the King’s mistress, Reinette, but she didn’t care. Oddly enough, she didn’t mind the woman, who had been always very delicate and considerate towards her, almost affectionate. To be honest, she was a blessing, as the inextinguishable appetite of the King for the flesh and woman beauty was now too hard to bear.

          But a party like this, ah… She reveled in the thought of seeing again monsieur de St Galle and the mysterious Comte de St Germain who always was the light of the party with his extravagant stories.

          The servant had finished to dress her for the night, putting her new powdered wig on the parakeet shaped wig-holder. She’d bought the wig with its lacquered holder in the morning from a small shop in Paris, which was had quite an aura of mystery she’d heard. Naturally she’d wanted to see for herself.
          The wigmaker was a gaunt and unassuming young man who notwithstanding made an impression on her. Jean-Baptiste’s wigs were simple and elegant, albeit not terribly inspired. His eyes, on the other hand, had a piercing yet soft gaze about them, and didn’t seem embarrassed to look at her, almost through her, as if she were a person, instead of the Queen surrounded by a retinue of bland people eager to please.
          “Let me draw you some fingers” he’d said to her, changing abruptly the topic from his rambling about books he was inspired to write about symbols. He’d forgotten the traditional address of “Your Majesty”, yet wouldn’t be stopped —regardless of the shocked expressions on the people’s faces.
          “You see, I love symbols, and when I draw people’s fingers, I can foretell events to come”.
          So that was it, she’d thought, the reason why everyone was ranting about him. He’d better be more inspired at that than wigs, as her patience was wearing thin.
          She’d had fortune tellers draw her cards a few times, but the fingers drawing part was curious enough to entice her into removing the glove off her eburnated fingers and letting him do his trick.
          An eldritch feeling crept though her spine as he was uttering words for each of the fingers he drew on with a slight pull of his hand, just enough not to crack the joints.

          In the bed warmed to a delightful temperature by the bouillotte, she began sliding into deep sleep, while a mixture of words half-forgotten or half-remembered danced around in her mind like the swirls of snowflakes dying on the warm window of her chamber: “funny moment, cold diversion, dream parade, house moustache pink, blue wonder carpets, possible king turned, green mirror travel, understand whole large parade”…

          #2996
          EricEric
          Keymaster

            “Blimey! The Pope, eh? Are you teasing me again?”
            Vera didn’t answer.
            “Oh come on! Don’t give me that need-to-know-basis treatment, as much as I love a good riddle, I hate secrets! Are we going to look for the reincarnation of a famous Pope à la Little Buddha? Tell me, tell me!” Bouncing with excitement on the rolling Eggsway made her almost fall head over wheels into a flangeway carved into the muddy track that went deeper into the forest.

            Regaining her balance, she looked ahead to see Vera was already a few meters ahead — and navigating the Eggsway was becoming difficult. She knew she should have opted for the 4×4 model…
            So… Vera wasn’t really paying attention, she would have to try another approach to worm answers out of her. What was so special about this place anyway? Lost continent of Mu, ancient architecture, maybe underwater tunnels… Nothing that would lead directly to the Vatican she surmised… Unless…

            They arrived at a clearing in the forest, where blue glow sticks had been placed in a round pattern. Vera was standing there, after having carefully placed a glowing green rote at the center, staring at the middle of the light circle, and without turning her head to look at her, told Lulla “Here’s your answer coming.”

            A huge buzzing throb started to fill the air, sounding to concentrate at a focal point not higher than 10 inches above the ground, at the exact center of the blue circle. It begun sparkling and * BooM *, in all its slimy tentaculeous glory, a spaceship was there.

            “Special delivery from our alien friends” Vera said, finally deigning to look at Lulla.

            The rather small spaceship started to slowly expand, becoming larger, until an opening appeared, letting a form emerge from the membranous appearance of the hull. The form which looked like some person was suddenly dropped unceremoniously with a * Plop! * while the spacecraft elastically recovered its initial shape.
            Moments later, it was gone, and with it the buzzing sound.
            The green rote payment was gone too. Greedy aliens.

            “Come on, let’s bag this guy and bring him home for phase 2. A red convertible SUV is waiting for us at the portal’s entrance.”
            So, that’s where I come in… Lulla was starting to wonder what was the use of her being here, since Vera was so bossy and secretive. But now,… Of course she was better at hatting, but she could call herself without bragging a real bagging specialist.

            #2977
            AvatarJib
            Participant

              The taser was a long range and when Mari Fe threw it away, it inadvertantly triggered the mechanism. The waiter was at that moment bringing a big plate of very hot soup to the table near Elza’s and was shocked. His body was shaken and Elza watched the soup making an odd design before splashing upon the table just behind her. She took advantage of the confusion to sneak out of the restaurant without paying the bill.

              #2951

              “I knew there was a subordination point here somewhere” said Janet. “Arona, bring that cat over here.”

              EEEEK” shouted Pearl.

              “It’s a clue!” Sanso said, “A location beginning with E with 5 letters!”

              “Is it a mouse?” asked Ed.

              “The dog just chased something behind the fridge” replied Pearl, “But it wasn’t a mouse. It looked more like a miniaturized story character.”

              #2945
              EricEric
              Keymaster

                His razor blade in left hand (he was ambidextrous with a slight favour for the left side), Ed suddenly remembered his future struggle with the daft cumbersome vermillion man, so he quickly turned off the portal. Then, against all common sense and years of procedures, decided to put it into his pocket.
                Everything following came back at once, interspersed with bits of smashed objects and blurs. But something he distinctly remembered was that Mari Fe was in the apartment, although he didn’t remember bringing her home from last night. It was against company policy to sleep with subordinates, so it had to mean something fishy.
                Recalibrating the portal using the failsafe code, he directed it to the secret headquarters where he had started to stockpile dangerous artefacts collected from previous surge control operations, deciding it was the best course of action before assessing who was to be trusted or not in his Chicks team…

                #2926
                EricEric
                Keymaster

                  On their way to the car for more convenient tools for the job, Janet continued to counter Pearl’s objections: “Oh, let’s do it and be done with it, we’ve got other fish to fry. Now that the plan to make Ed disappear and extort all his secrets from him is nothing but a fiasco, we’ve got at least to cover our tracks. ‘No guarantee where they’ll end up?’ Fine! Works great for me if you should ask! Wonderland? All the better!” Janet vituperated.
                  “Yeah, you probably right. Better be done with it before the next surge…”
                  “Shall you elaborate?”
                  “No time for this, deary, we’ve got work to do, bring on the pocket-sized forklift before others come out of this bleeding-though portal!”

                  #2913
                  AvatarJib
                  Participant

                    The man in vermillion robes was indeed the real Balthazar. Mari Fe had scheduled the portal to bring him from the past earlier, and it was quite annoying it all happened while Ed was in the bathroom.

                    What was he doing there anyway ? She hold a gasped back when she realized about his moustache. It really was changing his face and she noticed for the first time how slim his lips were. It was all camouflaged by his waxed moustache before and now, naked in the open. She blushed at the words in her head, she had imagined something else.

                    The man in the red robes moaned. She had to take care of the situation before Ed realized what was going on. He was not to know. She didn’t think and took a heavy china cup from her new Ikea poplar shelves, and smashed it on the man’s head.

                    “Firmly handled, Chicken”, Ed said, “But why on earth would you do that ?”

                    #2905
                    EricEric
                    Keymaster

                      The package was labeled in Sinese. Goat was fluent in a few languages after many a travel, and although Sinese wasn’t his mother tongue — he was only half-Sinese from his father’s side, he could read it well enough, and make himself passably understood in most of the Colonies.
                      It was a code, or more precisely, a reference. It said 时间舱23号, which you could probably translate as “Time capsule #23”. Back in the days, the Surge Team would bag and tag any strange artefact they confiscated during their missions, and usually would archive them in such capsules.

                      Although the concept of Time-capsule in itself for the old teams was soon to become somewhat of a mind puzzle if you thought too much of it, it still held value of… archaeological, rather than historical sorts for their descendants, such as himself. Of course, if you’d like some wild flowers, you’d rather pick them directly in the dewy meadows or mossy forests where they grew instead of taking them from the interstice of an old moldy book between the pages of which it had been laid down to dry, wouldn’t you. Now, anybody could easily become an historian with complete immediate sensory experience of past times at their perception tips —much like how it started, back in the twenty hundreds, with everyone able to become an amateur geographer in minutes with instant access to the satellites maps of Earth.
                      But being a map reader would never suffice to make you a sailor.

                      So, of course, Time capsules somewhat felt like such old dry plants if you were an historian. But if you were looking for ancient treasures or secret powerful artifacts, you knew you couldn’t just bring them from the past lest you disrupt the chain of events leading you to it. Many had gone madder than Lord Elmed trying to figure out safer ways. Time capsules were such a way.

                      “Now, I guess that fishy stench was there for a reason after all,” he sighed: to keep intruders and medlers off of its content, surely.

                      #2881
                      TracyTracy
                      Participant

                        Baltazar made a face as he swallowed the time travel sickness pill. “Could have made them smaller” he grumbled.

                        Intu rolled her eyes. “Stop being such a jess and take this” she said, handing him a smoking frothing potion in a tall silver cup. “For the side effects of the Replicator.”

                        “I hate this time of year. Trying to be in a hundred places at once, all because of that stupid tradition.”

                        “How do you think I feel?” asked Jesus. “At least you don’t have to wear a nappy.”

                        “It’s not a nappy, it’s swaddling clothes. Haven’t they finished with all that religion stuff yet?” said Baltazar. “Maybe if we just don’t turn up, it will bring the end forward? Can’t we just stay here in Tartessos? Bugger their parades, I’m not going again.”

                        Intu gasped. “Baltazar, you can’t let me down now. This might very well be the last time, if everything goes according to plan. I tell you what, I’ll make a deal with you. I’ll arrange for you to meet the reindeer pee travelling salesman on the way.”

                        #2878
                        TracyTracy
                        Participant

                          “The surge diversion is going well here, Pearl, for the moment. The energy has been channeled into street protests and the vibrations are being changed by an awful lot of banging on saucepans with spoons, somewhat noisy admittedly, but we’re a noisy lot here, and it’s going well. They’ve even adopted the word Tides to describe the surge diversion, and it’s alot more fun on the streets than some other surges I could mention.”

                          “No need to snort like that, Mari Fe” said Pearl. “We’ve just had word from the remote viewing team, and Ed Steam is in your neck of the woods, and one of your surges must be diverted to take him out.”

                          “The Three Kings Procession in a few days time might be an opportunity, leave it with me Pearl, I’ll see what I can do. I’d already planned to follow the Three Kings back home after the parade to ancient Tartessos, I’ve been collaberating with the time travel teleport portal people. Did you know that the Pope admitted that the Three Kings were from Andalucia? That was a result of the Occupy The Vatican Library Out of Body team. Anyway, maybe we can send Ed Steam back with them. He won’t be able to cause much trouble from thousands of years ago.”

                          Mari Fe, if you’re planning to go back to Tartessos too, you won’t be much help here, will you?”

                          “Ahhhh!” replied Mari Fe with a cryptic smile. “You wait and see what I bring back with me!”

                          “Well as long as it’s not Ed Steam, that’s all. Leave him there!”

                          #2866

                          In reply to: Tales of Tw’Elves

                          EricEric
                          Keymaster

                            “Solar flares alert at noon, take shelter” the electronic sign was saying when she left the building. Rubber masks coated with lead-like substance were designed to alleviate the exposure to what authorities qualified as dangerous radiations, but she was wondering what good it had brought her, listening to those darned authorities. Of course now, there was a variety to contend with every possible taste: one could find designer masks on the market, even ones that made you look like Jeanne Roberts, the famed actress from the naugthies québecquoise telly series “Sept ETs à la maison” (inaptly translated as “Sethies at home”).
                            However, dissident reports had transpired that the flares were not the health hazard they talked about, and maybe could actually be good for you. Theories were that they helped trigger beneficial mutations of your body, that would then go through a slightly disturbing period of adaptation and heightened hypersensitivity, but that later… your potentials would start to get limitless, well, whatever that meant.
                            She wondered what good becoming a limitless housekeeper would bring her… more bloody work, that one was certain.

                            #1464

                            In reply to: Tales of Tw’Elves

                            benjaminbenjamin
                            Participant

                              “King Apil-Sin, king Apil-Sin!” Smuftar shouted, as he smashed through the royal palace doors.

                              “I bring grave tidings. We have word that a great bright flash-of-a-light came swiftly down from the heavens and into our kingdoms gardens. Our armored men were so scared that they lost their bowls in an instant, and ran into the hills screaming.” exclaimed Smuftar.

                              “I see. That must have been Zu-the winged lion.” sighed king Apil-Sin.

                              King Apil-Sin pondered for a moment, and then some more, and then decided he was done pondering.

                              “That explains the disappearance of the purple flowers.” exclaimed king Apil-Sin!

                              Smuftar tilted his head.

                              #2840

                              In reply to: Tales of Tw’Elves

                              AvatarWhite Panther
                              Participant

                                Falling…
                                Falling…
                                Falling…
                                Like an overdue meteorite that suddenly usurps the earth’s unaware atmosphere, Jennifer and her greatly interested boyfriend suddenly found themselves on the filthy ground, after the tree in which they were concealing their frivolous touches of childish passion gave in to the ground on account of an astonishing hole manifested the earth.

                                “Canaria,” Jennifer whispered as she dusted herself, resurrecting her fallen self from the earth. Jon had informed her that it was due to rise any moment after the great meeting of the Tw’Elves, but she wasn’t expecting it to occur so suddenly. Jon was the physical host of a channeled entity that synchronized itself with the initial dimension and the alterversity. She had first encountered this entity while wandering around in a dream, looking desperately for lucidity. It was like a vision: there was a blinding flash of purple light, and then when it fizzled, a gentle, yet booming voice manifested itself in the atmosphere and enlightened her of the shift in physical and metaphysical consciousness that was going to occur in the form of risen continents (five in total)- a shift in consciousness that would even out the blurring lines between illusion and reality.
                                The young, nameless one stood up, uttered an awkward cough and muttered: “What?” but Jennifer was already walking in the opposite direction, towards a large, circle rock she termed “Sepritrella”, meaning “place of silence” in the language of the Tw’Elves. “Jenni-” the young man called out hopelessly, thinking that somehow his voice would bring her back to him. Little did he know…

                                “I must call an emergency OOB meeting at the library,” she whispered as she placed herself upon the rock of Sepritrella and begun her meditative state. She fell into a relaxed trance, and suddenly her token colour of blue beamed itself loudly, zooming towards the Vatican Library to meet the others.

                                #2451

                                “There’s no other way” said Lilac. “We must bring in the Bridge Tarts.”

                                A collective gasp could be heard ricocheting around the valleys as the news travelled, gasp by gasp.

                                #2402

                                “What?” The Majorburgmester of Peasland almost laughed of surprise at the incongruity of Fwick con Troll’s idea. “You’re telling that this…”

                                “Little spider, yes”
                                “Contains a potent venom that could wipe the blubbits off the face of Peasland?”
                                “Absolutely, dear Majorburgmester
                                “Are you out of your Fwicking mind, Fwick? What breading this nasty spider could possibly bring us any better than a plague of crop-eating blubbits in rut?”
                                “I was actually talking of breeding them, sir” Fwick objected
                                The Mayor continued unperturbed “Besides, we already have our fierce constable Stoll drill the mythic Eight Dimension for answers.”
                                “That would be placing a lot of trust in that foolish venture, I’m afraid to say, Majorburgmester. To date, very few people have managed to return safely.”
                                “Oh, who cares if they ever bloody come back Fwick! Come on! All we need to do is extort the answers from his spouse who’s kept all their heads in a safe place, I have no doubt of that.”
                                “Well… I wouldn’t place my head on this bet if I were you…”

                                “Ah, bugger off then with your stinking spider, and do your bloody experiments… As long as it doesn’t involve my name, and especially in case any misguided and sad assassination should occur, ahahaha. I’m joking of course.” The Mayor’s face (which was framed and hanged on the wall of the Majorburgmester Hall’s main office) suddenly shut any hint of humanity that could have been left on it.

                                #1317

                                In reply to: Yuki’s Livrary

                                EricEric
                                Keymaster

                                  January 21 st, 2010

                                  About Worlds creating and dreamwalking

                                  Has it occurred to you that your current technologies [such as social websites] are more than a little reflection of what you are doing as essence.
                                  It is more indeed, and very useful as an analogy.
                                  You have, for one, certainly noticed how different the “feel” of certain of these “sites” is, even when you are most of the time surrounded by the same set of friends and relationships? Yes you have.

                                  Let us call these sites “dimensions”. Yes, it sounds familiar, doesn’t it. You all participate in some manner into these, and you all have persona of yourself in various of these. They compete for your attention, and some of them are more popular than others —these are the ones which offer you the most fulfilling experience, not necessarily the most pleasant.

                                  In many ways, you connect as essence through these dimensions, which reveal aspects of your personalities, aspects that are not always visible or noticed in a direct interaction. When you congregate through these sites, you also start to realize, you have access to all of the others as essence, either through proxy of friends, or by direct interaction. You are all connected.

                                  They all have different rules, or shall we say, conventions; you can do certain things, certain others you cannot (or not yet), and others, you can, but they are not well tolerated or accepted.
                                  We let you do all the fine analogies, you mostly get the idea. The technical rules behind those sites are like your mass beliefs. They are helpful to maneuver your “avatar” —that focus of yourself inside the system— and without them, there would simply be no interest, no interaction, no experience.
                                  Of course, these beliefs can be bent ; with applications, made by these people wanting to develop new systems plugged into the architecture, to offer new functions, or interactions with others of these sites or dimensions.

                                  The creators of these dimensions are similar to dreamwalkers; some of them are bent on technology and development of the system at its core, but not all of them. Many in fact come with other intents, such as making the dimension a more beautiful, interactive, attractive or pleasant place. They all work together to bring the experience of the envisioned dimension to the other essences —and at some point, they also choose, themselves to interact, as a focus, fully part of their created dimension.

                                  Having that in mind, would it not seem natural that you would integrate more functionalities to these sites, if they respond to the promises of keeping focuses interested? What you call “upgrades” are in fact a major part of the conception of these dimensions, and occur quite frequently, either driven by popular demand, or by technical need.
                                  Such is the nature of the shift you are experiencing, which is above all a tremendous upgrade [of mass beliefs] towards a more integrated experience, without simply dropping the current dimension for another.

                                  We would finally like you to notice also that even if the biggest of these dimensions are calling for a great part of your attention, you also are attracted daily to countless others, little sites and areas, the purpose of which is different, but not less significant to your whole self.

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