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  • #945
    TracyTracy
    Participant

      Becky visited the nursery at The Facility every day, and smiled vaguely at the triplets, relieved that they were thriving and being well cared for. She had spent several happy hours ordering a new wardrobe online, charging it all to The Facility, whose staff were being wonderfully kind and accomodating. She spent the days reading historical novels, lounging on the recliners on the numerous patios and balconies, or strolling through the colourful leafy gardens, or floating in the cool lotus filled pools, without a care in the world.

      The past few months had been draining, exhausting. The unexpected break from everything that was familiar was doing her a power of good.

      One hot still afternoon, Gayesh, the director of the facility, called her into his large airy office. The antique ceiling fan ruffled the papers on his desk. The papers were part of the antique decor, giving the room a nostalgic 20th century air.

      Becky, we have been observing you while you’ve been staying with us, Gayesh said kindly. And we would like to make you an offer.

      Observing me? asked Becky, feeling a trifle violated.

      Oh, you know, at the essence level, dear, replied Gayesh, with a gentle smile. Your essence did agree, we couldn’t be intrusive, of course, as you know.

      Oh well, if my essence agreed that’s ok I guess, answered Becky, mollified. What’s your offer?

      Gayesh explained at length the purpose of the Facility, while Becky yawned and studied her new shoes, her mind wandering…

      …….and so, in a nutshell, Gayesh was saying, If you give us permission, we can send a cloned Becky back to Galle, and the husband Sean, while you, my dear, do whatever you desire. You can be mother to the essences already lined up to manifest via your, er, the clones, body (and may I point out that none of our undercover clones so far have been uncovered, shall we say), which will facilitate….Gayesh chuckled….your new found freedom! You will be a free Becky that nobody knows exists! Free to wander hither and yon, without any responsibilities…..what do you say?

      I accept your offer, sir! Becky said, jumping up to shake Gayesh’s hand.

      #934
      ÉricÉric
      Keymaster

        New Venice, March 2034

        After so many “haven’t been on my honeymoon yet!” ( ¹² ) , Becky was relieved to see that she had fast-forwarded time so nicely that, finally, in a few hours of time now, they would depart for Sri Lanka.

        Of course, the last events with her wavering in different probabilities, and manifesting more of what she had tried —almost by reflex— to avoid were still on her mind. She had felt a bit sorry for Sean, but she knew all along that the choices were hers, and worrying unduly about others, even if that was about her dear spouse, wouldn’t be efficient at all, needless to say not even slightly helpful.
        She had to concentrate more on the way she wanted to express herself. That way, she knew she would draw to her the perfectly appropriate situations —while the less than appealing stuff would recede in the background under a good dose of acceptance fairy dust.

        Though still a bit weary of her unexpected pregnancy from a future traveler who hadn’t even had the tact to propose her to elope with him, her minds were fresh and excited as ever at the thought of hopping like a daft goat on the Lion’s Rock in Sigiriya. And her good mood seemed to have an infectious effect on Sean who hadn’t even inquired of what local liquor there would be on the island. Perhaps the aura of the spiritual region had already blessed Sean with some renewed optimism.

        As she was fondly stuffing her skimpy honeymoon outfit in the already ready to burst piece of luggage, she smiled blissfully, remembering all of a sudden how she had forgotten to be gentle with herself these past few days, and how nice it was to treat herself with shiny and twinkling shards of spicy new adventures.
        She could indeed feel the excitement of doing some psychic archeology (as her step-mother used to call that) on these spots full of collective energies that she hadn’t had the taste of in many months.

        #928

        Passing through the security cordon of the giant spiders had been relatively easy, thanks to the indications telepathically passed down to them by the Snoot .
        With Anita on her back, Yurmaela the gruffoon had come back to the borgulm tree where Claude had been left to watch. After a moment of surprise at the unexpected apparition, he didn’t take long to decide whether he wanted to stay or not and had jumped on the broad back with the little smiling girl who was grabbing on the coarse hair of the beast.

        Keep you energies and your attention close to us, said Yurmaela Just like Akayli is doing with your parents, Anu. Though they have plenty of eyes, the giant spiders mostly rely on their energy perception, and they won’t see you if you stay within our energy field.

        A few minutes later, they were all standing in front of the growirling wortex, partially masked by the bark of the huge babul tree, which was standing out with its massive appearance. Flames of what seemed to be dark floating matter were pulsating very slowly, enhancing the thumping sound of their hearts.

        Ready to come back home sweet Anu? Akayli said fondly to the little girl?
        Yes, it was so much fun you all came to play with me… I’d want you to stay with me.
        What do you say? asked Claude They ain’t coming?
        This reality had a special design which allowed us to project very easily here said Yurmaela very softly in that reality of you, and Anita and Akita; as for now, the barrier in that reality is thicker than it is here.
        But we are always present around Anu, you know that said Akayli kneeling down to wrap his spotted furry arms around the little girl
        Yes I know she was smiling And I miss my parents too
        So let’s go, the wortex will close any moment now

        #921

        It had been a week now. Georges had fully taken his role as Shu-Lom, the eleventh Gate in the Council of the Guardians. His mergence with the actual focus of Blöhmul was fading out ; the transition had been smooth, unnoticed by most of the Guardians, even his closest friends. Georges was careful not to display any unusual change in Shu-Lom’s attitude, though some of them were showing signs of suspicion, especially… his own focus, Sinadron who was the most susceptible to be aware of the difference. Georges had been avoiding him since his arrival, but he would eventually have to face him for one of the rituals soon to begin.
        Of the eleventh other Guardians, only 2 were considering him as a friend, Doh’Maar and Vogel. Most of the others were ignoring him during the sessions and Sinadron were despising him. Well, technically he was despising Shu-Lom and the change would not make things go easier between the 2 of them as the energy of their 2 focuses were sort of repulsing each other.
        Following Shu-Lom’s habits, he was heading to the public baths, but contrary to him, he was going during daylight. He needed some answers. He had been feeling strong tensions between the Gates, and there were also underlying feeling of discontentment and anger among the other Guardians. For the first time in their history, unknown groups of their kind were attacking the other races and provoking them and generating feelings of fear, even amongst the Guardians.
        The man he was following would give him some of the answers. He would have to befriend him first though. Noraam had a smooth energy, and he would be easy to approach, especially in the dampness of the baths.

        Noraam was wearing an grey cape, attached on his shoulders with carved fibulae. His robe was short, above his knees, and rather dark. He was quite young by the standards of the Guardians and still fiery. Shu-Lom was young too, about the same age as Noraam, but he was quite pessimistic and self-effacing, and especially he wanted to leave, that he did, and Georges took his place.
        Georges suddenly felt a familiar energy, one that he would recognize anywhere, anytime. Salome… rather another focus of her essence. Hahaha, that was a surprise, and he almost lost track of what he was doing. Noraam was already taking the stairs up to the baths. Something about the energy of that focus was attractive, he still didn’t know who it was or what he/she(?) was doing here. Maybe just a projection. He didn’t have time to investigate. Heading to the stairs where Noraam was already being dematerialized and rematerialized to the first level, he heard a child’s voice.

        Can you help me?.. I know you can.

        What again, another distraction… he would be late to the baths and maybe loose the occasion to speak with the other Gate.

        Looking down at the origin of the voice, he was surprised to see a little girl, red hair and amber eyes. As he could see, she was blind, but as he could feel, she was quite capable of seeing things.

        Do I know you, little one? He had not been aware of this child in Shu-Lom’s memories, and he was wondering if he had missed something during his encounters with the original.

        You dreamt of me the other night, but you weren’t here yet.

        Her last words triggered a memory, of him carrying a naked little girl in his arms, protecting her in a way, and he was following a man in his dream, trying to keep track… in his dream, he was rushing and almost lost the child, following also Salome who had already taken the stairs… yes he was here in his dreams, the place and the stairs were the same… as was the child.

        What is your name little one? In my dream you were followed by an owl
        You can call me Ar’Meel.

        :fleuron:

        Sam thought he could write it somewhat differently. With his understanding of Georges’ abilities, he could well have split in two and followed Salome and stayed with the girl simultaneously and maybe even Noraam.
        A smile.
        He was feeling wobbly and wavy. A ripple effect?
        It seemed that there had been a strange recognition between his character and himself. It was like Georges was aware of Sam wanting to change what had happened… or was it a suggestion of Georges?

        #919

        It only took a few seconds for Armelle to deflate though she donned off with a hint of reluctance the delightfully filling feeling of power she had acquired notwithstanding the slight overweight (a few grams at best, given her immaterial nature of pristine white hallowy owly essence, but you could not reasonably expect to be really ascended with even no more than a few grams of physicality left, could you?)…

        So, it only took a few seconds, which in essence’s inner time was tantamount to a mere eon (a merry myriad of seconds).

        But then, all was so clear.
        She was seeing the trail that was left unwatched by the spiders, and that her friends would take to the wort-hole.

        Claude, my dear, would you be so kind as to oblige me for a few minutes? she regally asked her host of the branches, taking great care not to be too self-conscious, which would irremediably make her roll her eyes and lose all composure.
        Well… err… I s’pose yes…
        Indeed. Then, take good care of the wort-hole, and wait for us to come back, and then lead us back to the place from whence you came.
        Wouldn’t do that, if I were you… It’s full of magpies there…
        Oh bugger now. Armelle sighed so profusely that it made the hair raise on Claude’s head. The Snoot told me the way would be clear, so… have a little faith in me she said in a cocker’s voice.

        And there, in a majestic elan, she went back to the spot where her friends were now gently getting together.

        :fleuron:

        When she arrived, Akayli the were-lynx had just been deposing his precious package of the two silk-wrapped parents at the feet of little Anita. The first minutes of doubt passed, her hesitant face started to show a smile, knowing that her parents would be fine.

        Yuki was for himself all very impressed by the transformergence of his friends, and was finding that a very good idea to get more focused.
        However, he could hear the yet unvoiced protests of Armelle at his yet unphrased suggestion of a mergence
        Now way I get my white feathers mixed in that bloody smelly goat’s fur!
        And of course, he could hear too the yet unvoiced slew of outraged protests
        Smelly goat? Who you bloddy call a smelly goat, you persnickity saucer-eyed shuttlecock?

        Yet… Yuki, gazing for a few seconds of essence in the stream of possibilities, weighted again the enticing result that a mergence of the three of them would produce…
        Which would be… a… grabbiffon.
        A magnificent winged horned cotton-tailed… sort of… gryffun… or grumpfoon.
        Well… perhaps Armelle was right in the not-yet-voiced first place.

        That would just be plain ridiculous.

        So… what are we waiting for?! Let’s do it now!! all three of them laughed in unison :D =)) :creating_magic: :buffoon:

        #904

        The portal has opened, we must hurry said Araili

        Araili had felt something more, that he didn’t want to share yet with Akita and his spirit dog Kay. He had felt that something, or someone was trying to make its way from the wortex. However, the whole area was tightly held in a sort of quarantine by the giant spiders. Their genetic ancestral memory was aware of previous huge bleedthroughs like this one, and they had what humans would call “prophecies” amongst their kin, of such occurrences being heralds of tremendous upheavals.
        Araili, who was extending far beyond this guise of a lynx that he had taken now, smiled when he thought of how some of his earthly medieval focuses would have been similarly frightened by natural events like eclipses.

        It did not take long to them to find Anita’s parents. They were right at the spot that the big arachnid had just left, wrapped in silky spider bandages with little skin left to breathe.

        They seem alive. checked Akita. Heavily sedated, but alive… Now, we’ll have to get them out of here quick.
        I think I have an idea smiled Araili.

        :fleuron:

        Claude had finally came out of what he thought was just a strange tree, but then, his preternatural senses where telling him something was wrong. This place looked different. No, this place felt different.
        And smelt different too.

        There were soft sounds, crawlings he could hear, very near his place. They were coming from him, but he would fight.
        He jumped on a tree, and in a few vigorous movements, was perched on top of it.
        He almost gapped when he saw the black circle of huge spiderly creatures around his tree.

        They were staying at a distance from the wortex. But for how long… He couldn’t wait for his death.

        From the top of the tree, Claude jumped unscathed. Taking a look around, he found exactly what he needed.
        Breaking a few sharp bamboos poles, he started his move to the black circle in a prodigious and accelerated run.

        :fleuron:

        From atop a nearby tree, Armelle was considering the whole scene. The wortex would probably last a few hours, perhaps a bit more. Anita, Rafaela and Yuki were about to be here soon, she had warned them of the spider circle, so that they would hide until she has found them a way to get through.

        She had not expected someone to come out of it. That may be her way…

        :fleuron:

        Phurt was coming closer and closer now. She could feel the surge of power, and the trepidation raising all the hair on her legs. She couldn’t possibly confront all of the sisters. Not yet.
        She had to find a way to get past.

        As if Arachneiax, Goddess of her kind had heard and answered her plea, a dying cry, confusion, and call for help came to her senses from a border of their circle. A perfect diversion…

        #898

        She was feeling blank. It was as if she had no memories of what had happened before. At least she had still the notion that she was a she… wasn’t she? It wasn’t really clear, as she had mixed up feelings. There weren’t any physical sensation in the place she was. Indeed, she was having difficulties finding herself. She began to wonder what was this feeling of her she was aware of. To what was it connected? And thus, she realized she was too focused on the question itself to get any answer.
        The letting go released a dam of sensations and informations. She was overwhelmed by all that she was and all that seemed to be thrust upon her senses. But the resistance was what could create pain, she knew that from another time where she was living the same thing. Resisting the communication was like wanting to resist a herd of fleeing raghlors.
        She was feeling a presence in all this mess, something familiar :-?
        Was that herself looking at herself looking at herself looking at herself looking…
        Her memory of what she was trying to do came as lightning. The sudden realization of her numerous tentatives at this exercise made her cry… would she fail again?
        She had to find these other aspects of her, put them into a common direction… but there were so many of hers! which ones should she call to follow her? Which ones would follow her, if any? She felt sudden despair coming from everywhen. Despairs that she was aware did not belong to her, but they were powerful, almost annihilating her will. Images of massacres of people she knew, of people that her other selves knew, massacre that she had perpetrated herself or that she was perpetrating… any sensation of time could fit.

        :yahoo_at_wits_end: :yahoo_doh: :yahoo_crying: :yahoo_cow: :yahoo_whew: :yahoo_skull:

        Despair was imprisoning her and she knew she already had failed because of that. It was shadowing her motivation, giving her that hollow sense of herself, shielding her from…

        :creating_magic:

        Asiir, is that you? The energy was familiar and the name was a translation in her mind. It was an anchor point in all these mess of hers.
        Asiir, help me!

        The feeling was faint, so far away. But as she was focusing more on it, she noticed her different selves were intrigued and gathering around it. And there they were together. A feeling of ecstasy filled her up… and out of her body herself was huge. The presence was gaining in intensity and it was as if it was her who was allowing Asiir’s energy to be expressed toward herself.

        HAHAHAHAHA a thunderous laugh.
        Startled for a moment she almost lost contact with Asiir. But their bond was stronger this time. She was filled with joy and self-assurance.

        At last, you are beginning to understand, Lola. We can go on and take the next step now.

        She was truly riding her dragon, :face-grin: , it was wondrous.

        Well, technically you are lying on the floor of the marshes of doooom, but…

        All of a sudden, everything was gone, she was back to her body, Asiir looking at her and nudging her left arm with her snout.
        WOW, what a crippled body! How many times did she tried? Would he kill her with that, bloody bastard… a feeling of anger was infuriating her, and filling her body up, heating it up. How could he possibly be so inhuman?

        May I recall you I’m a dead guy? and furthermore, my focus wasn’t human… I just appear human to your eyes because you want me to appear like that. You have no representation of how my species could look like, but I may show you…
        … soon.

        #893

        The day had been long. Actually, from an outside perspective he had been apparently sleeping almost all of it, so it was not appearing as if it could be a really exhausting day at all.
        But Al had been extending his body researches in the subjective. He’d started to play again with his various dream bodies he had known the existence of for quite a while now, though he hadn’t yet found the time to experiment with them fully enough. An idea he owed to Sam, who he had been pleased to hear about his unusual experiences in the Australian bush, or more accurately, in the Dreamtime.

        Playing with these various “bodies”, or qualities of attention and perception, he was aware that his thoughts on the recent events occurring in their story was still unfolding in the backstage of his attention. A rehearsal perhaps…
        Nevertheless, he was delaying the actual representation, for he felt he was not yet ready for it.
        He could feel lots of information waiting for him to download them and process them. But he wanted to do it with clarity.

        Last try had not been very convincing… He had dreamt of a midget Tina, in a flowing mauve and lemon chiffon dress. Of course, in the dream he had taken great care of not hurting her feelings, all the more since she seemed so fond of the dress. He couldn’t really tell her that the dress was giving her an enormous butt and that she was rolling her hips comically when she was walking… Impossible…
        While dream-Al was searching for words to truthfully convey his appreciation of whatever little thing that could be left to appreciate on that dress, dream-Sam had been quick to tell dream-Tina she looked like fairy Nuf. What had he said! She soon started to weep noisily. Fairy Nuf, as anyone knew, is a purple-clad plump grumpy fairy, with a pointy hat and she couldn’t possibly look that bad.
        Speak about clarity…

        Al tried again to concentrate. Taking deep breathes.

        He could feel more and more clearly the presence of the woman. Her aura was beckoning, and she seemed to want to share information with him —pieces of information he would be free to tell others or not, it didn’t matter.
        What mattered was that there was this deep desire for this information which was coming from him; and equally as deep as his, her own desire to share was palpable.

        Salome ” he whispered “ I am ready to see
        He soon started to fall into another lucid dream…

        #890

        The Council room was silent but the energy was tense and electric.
        Nareena and Noraam were reading an energy ball from their peers on the Murtuane’s Kandulim shore. There had been an uprising of the Zentauras concerning exactions committed by what could be called a rebel faction of the Guardians. They had no name to call them, and they were invisible to their search, through their inner vision or other devices.
        The Gates were concerned by this behavior amongst their kin, especially since they would soon face a difficult choice in their evolution and society. Keliom had warned them since the beginning many years ago when it was just speculations, when they were needing a source of power so intense that it was against their knowledge to even believe in it.
        But the source had been found. It was through an unexpected mean. And now…

        This is unacceptable from our kind Noraam. The Council should decide something to get rid of these culprits.

        You know that it is against our customs. And especially, Sinadron and Keliom wouldn’t allow it and you know their influence over the others.

        I also sense that you are not comfortable with the idea either…

        Nareena sighed with resignation.

        I wonder how far would they have to go before we decide to do something. It is something to disregard the other races, but it is another to tease them and attack them. It is not even a matter of really wanting to hurt them, I feel a deliberate desire to make them angry against us, and I wonder who among us would want that.

        Noraam looked at her, intrigued. He saw the face of a man, a vautruche on his left shoulder. The only one of them who would want a vautruche as a pet. These animals were so unpredictable that one could think they were a vicious species, but they were expressing qualities such as determination and swiftness that were also somewhat desirable, and he could understand that. They were really fascinating with their moving colors. Depending on their mood, their skin was quickly changing, pulsing, irradiating, glazing, hypnotic, or just dark and unnoticeable.

        Do you really mean what I briefly saw, Nareena?

        She blushed before his twinge. I don’t trust him, and he makes me feel very uncomfortable. She wouldn’t admit to him that she was sensing some sexual attraction from him, and to him, but she couldn’t accept it as his energy was mostly repulsing and the thirst of power she could glimpse in his eyes was simply frightening.

        No, I don’t like Sinadron .

        #889

        Wow that had been bizarre! Veranassessee stood at the bathroom basin and splashed icy cold, reviving water on her face. She knew she’d had sex with Agent Gabriele … however the experience had a slightly surreal quality, not unlike a dream, details slipping elusively away from her as she tried to grasp hold of them. She giggled nervously as she dried her face with a towel. Did she really want to remember? She had just passed Agent Gabriele in the corridor and he had winked at her, saying he couldn’t wait to try the ‘reverse cleaning maid ‘ again. A sudden image came to mind and she saw her skin darken in the mirror as a hot wave of embarrassment flooded her. Good Grief! She thought guiltily of Mahiliki. She hoped the other island had not been too badly affected by cyclone Ycart, so far it seemed Tifikijoo had come off quite lightly.

        Veranassessee had already checked on the guests, Jose Maria and Paquita were still in their room, Mavis was huddled under her bedding and informed her in a muffled voice that Sha and Glor had gone looking for her.

        :fleuron:

        Well she’s not in her bloody room so where is she eh? Gloria and Sha were on the warpath, determined to get some answers from Veranassessee.

        ‘Ere, Sha! Bloody hell! Glor shook her head in disbelief.

        What’s up Glor?

        Bloody magpies … there are bloody magpies in ‘ere!

        What! Nasty little buggers those magpies. Poke yer bloody eyes out if yer aint careful.

        ‘Ere what they up to eh? Bloody hopping all over that whats-a-ma-callit-doo-dacky machine.

        They’ll be going for the shiny bits I reckon. They do that those magpies. ‘Ere we’d better stop them, might never get our bloody beauty treatments if they bugger that machine up.

        #886

        Is something bothering you Franiel? You look a bit perturbed.Phoebe was watching him intently.

        Oh sorry, yeah, I was just thinking about Aum Geog. I really should have sent him a message, you know about losing the chalice.

        Phoebe looked thoughtful. Well we could send a message via one of the Fincheons if it would set your conscience at ease.

        Fincheons? Those are those really beautiful silver birds aren’t they?

        That’s right, they are spectacular aren’t they! I have a pair I use for sending messages on occasion.

        Oh great! Franiel looked immensely relieved. I will go and write a note to him them. He won’t be happy though, I am fairly certain of that.

        Although … silly me. Would you like to use the phone to call him? It would be much quicker. Honestly sometimes I think I am living in the dark ages, not 2008! chuckled Phoebe merrily.

        Franiel laughed with her. Oh I know just what you mean!

        Oh by the way, said Phoebe, there’s a motorbike in the garage. It hasn’t been used for years, but if you can get it going, you are most welcome to use it.

        #878

        Old Narani is becoming too soft.
        While the attraction of the hole was intensely beckoning, Phurt had been appointed by a strange twist of fate to the guard of the prisoners by the Old Mother.

        Bugger Narani whisspered Phurt, why not just kill them, these stupid two-legged animals. Why the pain of keeping them alive? Good thing the daily dose of sedative venom had them quiet now. They would only scare the mooing preys. Stupid, stupid.
        Of course, it would be easy to just sink a little more than usual her sharp tooth into their neck so fragile. A regrettable accident…
        Phurt couldn’t help but smile a grin as wide as her hairy eight-eyed face. But she wasn’t known as the Doctor of Breath for nothing. Her mere breath could be as sweet as a jasmine scent or terribly deadly. She had never missed a target, never could have.
        She was no mere Spinner; how could the Mother have put her to such a slighting task. Degrading. For her, the most promising Hunter of her generation to be doing this while they all were securing the hole perimeter.

        She would have to go. Something was nudging her to move, something like a fluid water sound, that whispered that nothing could happen to those prisoners. No one would be fool enough to dare to enter the Nest.
        Ahaha, why would she care? Nobody would know. And the little ones would alert her in any case.

        With a prodigious jump, she sprung to the forest in the direction of the hole. She couldn’t be denied her destiny.

        :fleuron:

        Is it gone now? a voice whispered under a pile of giant ferns
        I think it is growled Araili’s voice Thanks to the Snoot’s power of suggestion, I suppose… The Snoot might find spiders eggs delicacy enough to help us in our rescue operation.
        Shall we go there now? Kay? Ready to go and report back if everything’s clear?
        Ready.

        :fleuron:

        Rafaela was not finding it very difficult to jump on the rocky slopes. It was only difficult for her to remember to stay physically focused so that Anita wouldn’t fall to a certain death. And of course, even more difficult to resist to the attraction of nibbling a few crunchy thistles and brambles that grew here and there.
        But Yuki’s attention was here to remind her, and so far, their progression had been smooth and easy.

        But all of a sudden, the small pink nose of Yuki raised in quicker spasms sniffing the air intently.
        What? What? asked Rafaela who almost forgot her focusing. What?! Did I fart or something?

        Anu who was having the time of her life jumping on the coarse back of the goat giggled at her clueless question.

        — I think the spiders are moving too. We’ll be reaching the hole before them, and the Snoot tells me they won’t be moving close to it. But they won’t let anything or anyone get out of it. Let’s hope dear Armelle will spot a path for our friends.
        — Not to worry, Rafaela said matter-of-factly, Army is good at spoohtting. She’s the best I know at that.
        — OK, let’s move on…

        :fleuron:

        Claude was finally seeing a pinhole of light, at a close distance. He could just continue to crawl out his way to the light, and he would soon be release. And to cheer him up, he reminded himself that no man nor beast he feared, with his phenomenal strength agility and speed he now had. Too bad he didn’t have any time to get a proper super-hero attire he smiled to himself.

        :fleuron:

        On Tikfijikoo, the Magpie’s energy maze-cloak was now lift. The fury of the cyclone was now in its full power, and the Magpies were starting their swift deployment.
        The item was left unguarded in the operation room, as far as they could tell, and in the chaos of the elements, surely a few magpies would be unnoticed.

        They had to move quick now. The portal would be opened soon too. They couldn’t come back without bringing “it” back with them.

        #877

        Oh for foocks sake, Finnley grumbled, does that woman never go home?

        Elizabeth Tattler was passed out on the desk, two empty wine boottles on the floor beside her chair.

        Foock you too! Foock you too! Screeched Robert X

        She grinned, she quite enjoyed Robert X, or MrX as she liked to call him.

        So what’s our Elizabeth been up to eh Mr X? Finnley picked up the messy pile of papers on the desk and carefully put them in order. They looked sort of interesting. Maybe it was time for a rest break. She pulled out her vegemoot sandwooches on chunks of rye bread, and, carefully dusting it first, she sat down on a big armchair in the corner of the office to read.

        Twenty minoots later she threw the pages on the floor in disgust, but then, disturbed by the mess it made, picked them up again.

        The character Veranassessee left her particularly disturbed. What a name! And what a Wishy Wooshy Noomby Poomby. Whats all this YES YES YES businoos! That Agent Gabriele was a selfish and dictatorial bastood as far as she could tell.

        She would see about that! She was no writer but she was sure she could do better than this load of old mongoat droppings.

        Well she would if she could find a pen on Ms Tattler’s shamboolic desk anyway.

        :fleuron:

        Veranassessee (V) drew back from his sloppy kisses. Wait! Have you got protection? she asked, imperatively and sensibly.

        Protection? … my gun is under the pillow … oh right I see what you mean, stuttered Agent Gabriele apologetically, reluctantly pulling himself from making suction noises on her breast to rummage for a condom in his suitcase.

        Great, now say that stuff again. You know all that crap about how beautiful I am. I sort of liked it.

        Agent Gabriele willingly obliged. Of course V recognised it for the lustful rubbish it was … still might as well have a bit of fun. He was damn good looking.

        Perfect, she said. Now, what position do you prefer?

        He was momentarily speechless, stunned, and even more aroused, if that was indeed possible, by her forthrightness.

        She rolled her eyes. Yes, you know POSITION … on top … underneath ..front … back… through a hole in a blanket …? myself I like to keep things simple, don’t want to make too much mess around the place.

        Anything you want Darling Agent V.

        A little bit later he sighed contentedly. You are by far the best lover I have ever had.

        Thanks, everyone says that. Hey! Put out that cigarette, there’s no smoking inside you know. She looked critically around the room. You know this room could do with a damn good clean, I could see dust on the headboard, you know, while we were doing it.

        I’ll make sure I clean it next time, he murmered huskily, kissing her, and saying that stuff again, about how perfect she was.

        :fleuron:

        Finnley giggled to herself. Much better! Well who’d have thought she would have a bit of a gift for writing. Carefully she replaced the pages under the telepooh and made her exit. With a bit of luck Ms Tattler would never notice.

        #867
        AvatarJib
        Participant

          “Actually, Sam said, you are already pregnant. I don’t know if you had realized it, but it is clear in your energy. You are creating a vortex entry point in your womb.”

          He winked mischievously.

          “It all seems to be about influence and suggestion these days, he added with a wink. Remember, you are playing with these probabilities not because you are a victim of them, but because they present an interest to you. And remember also that they would be all actualized by one of your probable selves nonetheless.”

          Becky did the rolling eyes, and it seemed she wouldn’t stop when Sam burst into laughter and hugged her. He kissed her swiftly and said :

          “You can call Sean now, he understands more about it than you realize.”

          #865

          Dr Bronkelhampton was eager to come back to the fridge to see if one of his patients had taken the bait.
          So far, his new discoveries have been promising. The use of honeycomb was a clever move, that would drastically lessen the need for expensive and cumbersome machineries. All he had to work out was the dosage.
          He was not sure the induced mutations wouldn’t be deadly…
          After all, that was what guinea pigs were meant for.

          MWAHAHAAHaaahAHha… cough cough… His Machiavellian manic laugh died in a raucous fit of coughing.
          That had almost ruined his eyeliner.
          Bugger it

          #852
          TracyTracy
          Participant

            Leah Muir, born and bred in Glasgow in Scotland, first visited Marseille on a business trip. She was the personal assistant to the director of the “Twin City Exchange Programme”, Robin Abbott.

            Leah fell in love with Marseille. Truth to tell, she fell in love with a racy fellow she met in the Café De l’Abbaye one tipsy afternoon, Enri Baccalao. Leah convinced her easy going boss to let her stay in Marseille for the rest of the exchange programme, and she moved into Enri’s apartment.

            Enri was a gregarious and popular man, and his artistically shabby home was always full of people. Leah soon became great friends with a delightfully witty young woman of Italian and Burmese descent, Luce Mong.

            #849

            Al had just inadvertently telepathically overheard Becky’s long monologue, and was rather amused at the situation that he decided to stay quiet and refrain from intervening.
            It was a sort of interesting experience, to see how it would develop…

            A voice was starting to make itself heard through Becky’s neuronal pathways though… A feminine voice first… Then a male…
            He could even sense a third presence too…

            Al was surprised, as he apparently didn’t really care about what kind of probability would express itself. It seemed it was all valid, and yet, there was something that wanted to make itself heard.

            Becky was quiet now. She seemed to have finally seen that nothing would happen as intensely and quickly as in her swift imagination.

            But Al was intrigued… Who were those presence, they felt lively, very humorous too. But they were concerned about Becky’s changes of mood. They were considering probabilities too, as though Becky’s choices were important to them.

            We are the first-borns of Becky answered the feminine voice who had keep still.
            Potential first sniggered the male voice.
            Oh, shut up, Oliver the third one said you know well enough we are creating our realities, so better give her some time… No need to freak her out… After all, it’s like for Dory’s nine dogs, they only came gradually, and she just accepted them…

            Dory? Al was wondering… He had heard that name recently… At the wedding party perhaps?

            Dory’s a past overlapping focus of Becky and her step-mother too… answered Léan, the quiet one.

            Al was befuddled. He had first thought these voices were only Becky’s playing games with herself.

            Oh sure it was, answered Oliver, we’ve just be using that wave of thoughts to bring us through. It’s very multi-layered.
            See, take the dogs which Illana talked about right now. You know some of these dogs Dory had (or has, or will have), they have “flecks” of people close to Dory, other essences’ energies. Some are very clearly noticeable, other are more mingled. These voices are multiplexes of voices, more or less subtle energies being expressed. Some are very deep. We were riding the surface of them.

            So, Illana, Lean and Oliver? That’s it?… Nice to meet you… Al was still thinking aloud (like in big characters printed on a silent kaleidoscopic screen)
            And that will be your focus names? Oh, yes… probable ones.
            It’s funny you know, it’s like you are becoming more real now. I can feel some associations coming that help bring you into form. Like Oliver, I associate him with a black dog of Dory. A little grumpy one with funny black eyes.

            The two female laughters mingled into one delightful chorus. Ahaha, we will give you a point for accurate connection!

            “And Léan,” Al continued, “you feel like a young blond woman, friend of Dory ready to get married… Yet, I can see you have a black complexion in this probable focus, unlike your siblings… Sounds a bit confusing…”

            Ahaha, another point!

            “Let me see, Illana now… I got you connected with another friend of Dory… An paleontologist or geologist, living in the US, blond lively woman with painted nails, and… the image is just gone now…”

            — Hehehe, that’s close enough, said Illana’s voice. I can see we’ll meet soon Al

            And the moment after, the wisps of light were gone.

            #789
            TracyTracy
            Participant

              Becky sneezed again, and shivering, reached for the box of tissues. She was choosing to align with those old fashioned ‘catching a cold’ beliefs because, frankly, she wanted to spend a few days wrapped up in her dressing gown idly flicking through magazines and taking naps and not doing anything much.

              Sean appeared with a tray.

              I’ve made you a nice pot of Earl Grey, and buttered some scones for you, dear. How are you feeling? I’ve done the laundry but I think the nun outfit has shrunk.

              Becky blushed. Oh well never mind that, eh.

              I’ll get you another one, Sean said hopefully.

              Maybe a trench coat and some thigh boots instead, suggested Becky, recalling her drenching in the park in the tarty nun outfit. More practical.

              Sean grinned and sloped off to do some dusting. Call me if you want anything, he called over his shoulder.

              Becky picked up another magazine from the pile next to her. Crisp, it was called, and had a photograph of Sue Flay and the Ova Tones on the front cover.

              #845

              She put down the plate of honeycomb and turned round slowly, her calm exterior belying the fear which had suddenly gripped her insides.

              He had called her Agent V!

              She had to stay calm, think quickly.

              And why is that, Jarvis?

              Jarvis, what did she know about him? He had been employed by Dr Bronkelhampton, although Veranassessee had resisted the idea vigorously. The fewer people on the island the better as far as she was concerned. But the doctor had insisted he needed someone to tend the gardens, and in the end she had decided it wasn’t worth making an issue of.

              I think I might be able to answer that question. Agent Gabriele entered the kitchen. His sudden presence had almost as disconcerting effect on Veranassessee as the revelation that Jarvis knew her identity.

              A little sideline of our beloved Doctor is to experiment with honeybee mutations. Isn’t that right, Jarvis? And in the process he has discovered a way to alter the chemical composition of the honeycomb. It looks and tastes like honey, but too much of it is deadly.

              Veranassessee turned to Jarvis. You knew this Jarvis …. but then why leave it in the fridge … and why warn me?

              Wasn’t me left it in the fridge. I saw it there earlier. I figured the Doctor left it there. Buggered if I know why. He’s an odd one that one. Getting odder by the minute too.

              A loud clattering outside and they all turned.

              Winds getting up quickly, said Agent Gabriele in clipped tones. Secure the hives Jarvis. God knows we don’t need mutated bees on the loose. V tell the guests to stay in their rooms and away from the windows, and then meet me in my room. I’ll deal with the Doctor.

              :fleuron:

              Bloody windy here aint it. Thought I was coming to a bloody tropical paradise! Mavis was looking outside anxiously.

              Oh this aint typical. The weathers been grand. We’ve been out bloody sun baking most days.

              Oh we have! The sun and airs got special beauty qualities here. That Vessie told us that. Encourages us to get out and about.

              Ere I know what will cheer you up. Lets get a snack from the kitchen. There’s some special ureu beauty biscuits in the pantry, and the chocolate brownies are bloody delicious. Who’d have thought chocolate had special beauty qualities eh. She’s a genius that Vassie. Oh I tell you what, I found some lovely honeycomb in the fridge this morning! Sharon licked her lips in anticipation.

              Oh I’m bloody drooling here, Sha! You’re a bloody genius you are

              #1918
              F LoveF Love
              Participant

                T: if I can get the eggletons into the story I’ll be all set
                F: well the oogletons are in the story
                F: in the ooh dimension
                T: I need a new characters who are doing the eggletons story, thats what I need
                T: yes
                F: oh well cool
                F: and i will mock them in the oogleton thread then
                F: that will be fun
                T: yes, that will slide me easily back in
                T: to the story
                F: yes
                T: and the eggletons can then relate to various other threads
                T: which was the key point
                F: :yahoo_rofl:
                T: about new threads
                T: :yahoo_rofl:
                F: yes, do what you love and fuck the rest
                T: hahahahah
                F: basically was the key point
                T: yes1
                T: that it exactly
                T: attention to self
                F: oh yes
                F: much nicer
                T: if its not fun dont do it
                T: it matters not

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