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  • #4778
    ÉricÉric
    Keymaster

      “Oh, that can’t be THAT hard, give it to me Godfrey!”
      “Wait Liz’, you could harm yourself!”
      “Oh come on, hand over the darn thing, I’ve seen her do it a thous… well at least once or twice. And the second time, I was so drunk I thought it was the parrot who’d done it.”
      “Alright, but remember you were the one to ask for it!”

      She glared at him sideways. “What is this thing Godfey?”
      “Well, it’s called a broomstick, I thought you wanted to do some cleaning. For sure the place is in dire need of it.”
      “I know what a broomstick is, thank you very much. Is this your idea of a practical joke, G?”
      “Oh no Liz’, I could just have called your Mother for that, she would have loved to come and teach you.”
      Godfrey, you better stop all this nonsense now, or I’ll have you put in a story oubliette, with only water and half a peanut a day for sustenance.”
      “That’s torture! But, wait, if you didn’t want the broomstick, what was it, that you said you needed Finnley for?”
      “Oh don’t you make me say it Godfrey! Just give me the red marker, and let’s get over with all the editing. That manuscript is really worth poubelle.”

      #4776

      When Albie woke up, it was shaking all around, as if the ground was quaking under him. It took him a moment to realize he was at the back of the jeep, and the jeep was careening on the dirt road, with none other than Mandrake at the wheel.

      “Don’t stare at him like this, kid, and make yourself useful!” Arona shouted in the action, taking a Jiborium Emporium pellet gun while pushing a bag of ammo at him.

      WHAT?!”

      “I’m not sure you realized, but we’re being chased!”

      The sound of a bullet flew by, missing the car window only thanks to an agile quarter turn of the wheel by Mandrake, followed by a sudden acceleration back onto the road.

      “Who’s chasing us!!?” Albie was confused.

      “Unclear!” Arona shouted, aiming at the black and white corvette behind them, with Ugo the gecko trying to keep stuck onto her head despite the shaking.

      She fired three shots of her magical Owl Pellets, reloading after each one.

      “We’re going to be short of ammo, Mandrake! How far?!”

      “I DON’T KNOW” the cat meowed, braking to avoid running over a loitering marsupial.

      HOW FAR Mandrake!?” Arona said, taking three new shots, managing to hit a headlight and the windshield.

      “You have no idea how difficult it is to find a body of water in this place, do you?! We missed the turn to the waterhole about 30 miles ago, at this speed!”

      “Better not to risk it, not enough water depth! We need the river.”

      “Todd River should be around that cliff there,” he pointed. But the road ends… heEEere!!”

      “GO FOR IT!”

      :fleuron: ** S PLASH ** :fleuron:

      The other car had braked just before the cliff, while the jeep was sinking slowly into the river which was carrying them near the shore.

      “Quick Mandrake! The pearl!”

      All Albie could see next was the swirl of pouring light mixed into the water vortex.

      He held his breath as tight as possible, for as… long… as… possible.

      GASP!

      “Mmm, that was entertaining. But it ruined my dinner.”

      The dragon was there, looking at the three of them drenched near its pool. They were back at the Doline.

      #4775

      The wind swooshed in the garden, making fallen apples roll on the ground. The air had a lively smell of earth and decaying fruit, and the grass was still moist from the morning dew.
      The statue of Gorrash was facing East, and the rising sun was bringing golden hues to his petrified face. Little snoots were curled in glowing colourful balls of liquid fur around the statue, making it pulsate with a quieting purr. Around Gorrash, the slope was peppered with some of the gargoyles rejects that Eleri had made and couldn’t sell at the market. Still, instead of discarding them, she’d arranged a little forest of painted gargoyles as a sort of silent watchful army guarding Gorrash’s sleep.
      Rukshan liked to meditate at the place, it helped with the stress he’d felt at coming back from the last ordeals. He wouldn’t have thought, but his identity had felt more shaken than he knew. He wasn’t feeling at home with the Faes any longer, and there were few people who could relate to his adventures in the villages nearby, where he was nothing more than an ominous stranger. Retreating in the Fae’s dimension, hidden from all and mostly abandoned was a tempting thought, but he’d found it was a lure with empty promises. He still had work to do.

      Tak and Nesy were already awake and were coming back for the rest of the story.
      He’d started to tell them about the Giants, the old forgotten story which he’d learnt many years ago in his previous life as a Dark Fae. Both were captivated at the prowess displayed by the Master Craftsmen, the old Rings of Stones that they built, the Cairns of the Fallen, and the Fields of Chanting Boulders where magic rituals where performed.

      “Tell us more Rukshan!” they said. “Tell us more about the Three Giant Kings.”
      “Do you remember their names?” he smiled back at the children.
      “Yes! There was Ceazar…” Tak started
      “Caesar, yes” he corrected gently
      “… and Archimedes,” Tak continued hesitantly
      “Yes, and who was the third one?”
      “He had a long and strange name! Nesy, help me!”
      The girl tried to help him “It starts with a V”
      “Vergincetorix!” the answer came from behind a bush.

      Fox!” Nesy cried reproachfully. “It’s not even right! It’s Vercingetorix!”
      “Correct Nesy! And Fox, no need to lurk in the shadows, stories are not only for children you know.”

      Fox took a place near the gargoyle army garden, and a baby snoot jumped into his lap, cooing in vibrating mruii.

      “So what about these Kings do you want to know?” Rukshan asked.
      “Everything!” they all said in unison.
      “Oh well, in this case, let me retell you the story of the Golden Age of the Three Giant Kings, and how they saved their people from a terrible catastrophe.”

      #4767
      ÉricÉric
      Keymaster

        Jerk was back at the mall from a week’s holiday break. He was surprised to notice the moderation queue to be almost empty. Usually, he would have found AT LEAST three comments a day to moderate.

        “Well, pity that.” he said, sipping his cold peppermint tea. “Summer is a slow season.”

        All his neighbours seemed still gone to some far away places, the residential building was almost empty, if not for the Pekinese dog regularly peeing in front of Lucinda’s door. He’d heard it was probably the stress of his owner being gone for so long. Lucinda didn’t seem to mind the piss stench —her mopping was overall quite modest.

        Good thing there was a misplaced comment. In two clicks, it was promptly rethreaded to the proper place. Of course the author of said comment would have argued with the whole logic, but she probably wouldn’t notice.

        #4766
        TracyTracy
        Participant

          There had been no communications from either Connie or Hilda for some time. Ricardo went down the usual route of worrying that something had happened to them, and then it occurred to him to try out the remote viewing he’d been practicing. It was too easy to rely solely on technological means, he reminded himself, AI (short for Abnormal Intrusions) or no AI.

          Ricardo found himself in a moonlit sweeping landscape, with some dark indeterminate built structure shapes. Oh, very helpful, he snorted, and then reminded himself to simply observe. Then he saw the woman, dressed in gauzy floating white, and found himself sneering at how corny the image was, like a new age art poster woman, beautiful and ethereal in a moonlit scene.

          Stranger still was the next thought to waft through his wandering mind. Maybe he inserted that corny woman to distract any remote viewing spies, and throw them off the scent? Suddenly there was a crash behind him. Another picture had fallen off the wall, he assumed. But nothing was out of place. He looked again, sure that something had fallen to the floor to make such a noise. But there was nothing to see. He shrugged.

          Later, he wondered: what had made that noise?

          #4761

          Barbara’s office was dead silent apart from the regular bips of the machines. The whiteness of the painted walls made it feel like a psych ward. She shivered away the memories that were trying to catch her attention.

          It’s been two hours since the Doctor had locked himself up in his rage-release room, a spacious soundproofed room with padded walls. Not even a small window to look inside and check if his anger had subsided. Barbara clearly preferred the trauma of the shouts and cries and the broken plates that were hidden here and there for him to use when he needed most. But when he started his therapy with the AI psych module, the damn bot suggested he built that room in order to release his rage in a more intimate framework.
          Now the plates collected dust and the sessions in the room tended to last longer and longer.

          Today’s burst of rage had been triggered by the unexpected gathering of the guests at the Inn. The Doctor was drinking his columbian cocoa, a blend of melted dark chocolate with cheddar cheese, when the old hag in that bloody gabardine started her speech. The camera hidden in the eye of the fish by their agent, gave them a fisheye view of the room. It was very practical and they could see everything. The AI engineer module could recreate a 3D view of the room and anticipate the moves of all the attendees.

          When that girl with the fishnet handed out the keys for all to see and the other girl got the doll out, the Doctor had his attention hyper-focused. He wanted to see it all.
          Except there had been a glitch and images of granola cookies superimposed on the items.

          “Send the magpies to retrieve the items,” he said, nervousness making his voice louder.
          “Ahem,” had answered Barbara.
          “What?” The Doctor turned towards her. His eye twitched when he expected the worst, and it had been twitching fast.
          She had been trying to hide the fact that the magpies had been distracted lately, as she had clearly been herself since she had found that goldminer game on facebush.
          No need to delay the inevitable, she had thought. “The magpies are not in the immediate vicinity of the Inn.” In fact, just as their imprinting mother was busy digging digital gold during her work time, the magpies had found a new vein of gold while going to the Inn and Barbara had thought it could be a nice addition to her meager salary… to make ends meet at the end of the month.

          It obviously wasn’t the right time to do so. And she was worried about the Doctor now.

          To trump her anxiety, she was surfing the internet. Too guilty to play the gold miner, she was looking around for solutions to her boss’s stress. The variety and abundance of advertisement was deafening her eyes, and somewhere in a gold mine she was sure the magpies were going berserk too. She had to find a solution quickly.

          Barbara hesitated to ask the AI. But there were obviously too many solutions to choose from. Her phone buzzed. It was her mother.
          “I finally found the white jade masks. Bought one for you 2. It helps chase the mental stress away. You clearly need it.” Her mother had joined a picture of her wearing the mask on top of a beauty mask which gave her the look of a mummy. Her mother was too much into the woowoo stuffs and Barbara was about to send her a polite but firm no she didn’t want the mask. But the door of the rage-room opened and the Doctor went out. He had such a blissful look on his face. It was unnatural. Barbara had been suspecting the AI to brainwash the Doctor with subliminal messages during those therapy sessions. Maybe it also happened in the rage-room. The AI was using tech to control the Doctor. Barbara would use some other means to win him back.

          OK. SEND IT TO ME QUICK. she sent to her mother.

          #4758

          It took a while for Franola to get back to the sudden surge of activity. She had to use Finley as an anchor for awhile, since Tiku seemed to have moved out of the picture.
          Franola shook the typo mergence out of her dusty cloud, and resumed being Garnola — — well, Granola.

          She’d picked up interesting stuff on her way to the now overcrowded inn.
          Bits and pieces of a ragtag team of mag’spies on their way to fetch the engraved key, but they seemed to have been distracted by promises of gold on their way from their last known location. She hadn’t stayed too long to check on them, as she’d felt a sudden telepathic attack from the Doctor, and had simply popped out to avoid attracting him into her safe mental spaces.

          Well, without Tiku around the Inn to lend her body for spirit possession, it would be more difficult to verbally warn her friends Maeve and Shawn-Paul, especially caught up as they were in all that dramatic tension.
          She quite liked her new vantage point though. Fisheye view, literally. She could see the whole company, hidden in the eye of the strange fish hanged on the wall.

          A mean looking cat was starting to hiss and snarl at her though. Or maybe that was her mind playing tricks. After all that backstage exploration, she might have been confounded as to whom was doing the snarling.

          #4757

          The loud throbbing of a Harley Davidson interrupted the unexpected revelation moment.
          A few seconds later, the door banged open and a man with a long moustache, thick eyebrows and a rather bushy hair entered the Inn.

          Fergus?” said Mater, frowning.
          Uncle Fergus?” said Maeve.
          “You old bastard!” said Bert.

          Devan didn’t know the name of the man, but he did manage to infuse his wide open mouth with an interrogation.

          “Who’s Fergus?” asked Dodo, who didn’t want to be left behind.

          The fact that Mater was the first person to pronounce the name of the man didn’t escape Prune’s shrewd mind.
          “How do you know him?” she asked Mater who blushed and used another puff of dust to cough and avoid the question.

          But one surprised all the others, even Fergus.
          “My long lost brother!” said Sanso. He moved forward and hugged the newly arrived man. Truth be told, there was some ressemblance between the two of them.

          Mandrake was looking at Ugo who seemed rather focused on the scene. Something was off, he could feel it. He should warn Arona, but the darn lizard never left her side, or her hair. It was pretty annoying since she would not brush his fur very often now, and he certainly needed some refreshing with all the knots caused by the dryness of the climate.

          #4750
          TracyTracy
          Participant

            “Honestly, back in my day, we managed to dust and sneeze at the same time, and chop the firewood, make the pies, feed the goats, reupholster the chair, write the maps, go to market, write a story, and all before dinner! You just can’t get the characters these days,” and then Liz added, “And I do NOT snarl! I simply never snarl!”.

            Liz snorted. “I snort,” she admitted, “Sometimes I snort, that I will admit. But what I really can’t fathom, is why you climbed into bed with me, and with that dreadful snotty nose. I was bound to push you out, what did you expect?”

            #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…”

                  #4734

                  “So, your hobby is to make dolls?” Arona was aghast. “What a coincidence…”

                  Maeve wondered if there was more than met the eye about the travelers family in funny clothes. She had asked if it was okay to sketch the three of them, Arona, Sanso and Albert, as she liked to capture some details in her sketch book, to give her ideas for her next dolls attires.

                  To defuse the strange tension, she pointed at Mandrake “I think your cat is having a funny fit, is it epileptic? It’s been winking like it’s having cramps or something.”

                  #4731

                  “Could you pass me the butter?” asked a strange fellow seated on Shawn Paul’s left. The man was odd, a bit looking like Captain Sparrow with his black jabot lavaliere shirt and golden earrings.

                  Shawn Paul felt awkward, the kind of awkwardness cultivated for many years with shyness and fear of social interactions. No wonder I wanted to be a writer, he thought. Nonetheless he handed the butter to the stranger. Could he be daring for a change and talk like his grandma always pushed him to do? The best remedy to shyness is to talk. Start by saying your name Shasha!

                  “My name is Shawn Paul,” he said, feeling the heat rise to his face. He gulped, unsure of what to do next. Should he talk about the morning weather?
                  “My name is Sanso,” said the man. “At your service,” he added waving his puffy sleeves. “Have you read the last article on _whateveralready_?
                  The cat behind them snorted. Shawn Paul looked at it. It looked grumpy and ready to talk.

                  “Don’t send Mandrake any food,” said one of the other guests, a woman wearing an indian looking outfit with a scarf hiding her hair. Something moved under the head scarf and a strand of red hair ventured timidly outside, soon followed by a lizard’s head. The woman pushed it back under her hood and emitted a disgusted grunt when she saw the meat dish brought by the maid.

                  “I’m not a maid,” muttered Finly to whomever could hear/read her, or to the writer. “It’s good liz… chicken,” she said. No need for the long faces.”
                  “But it’s dead, dear,” said the woman with the veil.

                  “The Godfrey silently prayed under the third moon,” was saying Sanso who didn’t seem to mind that Shawn Paul was not listening to him. “And he entered late inside the lake wearing a funny blue toge. Sanso realised Finly was looking at him her mouth reduced to a tight line. “And I followed with opened hope,” he finished before gulping a spoonful of butter.

                  “Do you happen to have a lock in your bedroom?” asked Sanso. The woman in the scarf looked at him with dark eyes. The lizard, seizing the opportunity to be free, jumped from under her scarf and landed into the gaspacho, splashing all the guests with a bit of red.

                  #4725

                  A wild eyed crow was cawing relentlessly since the wee hours of the dawn.
                  Nothing much had moved since everyone arrived at the Inn, and in contrast with the hot days, the cool night had sent everyone shivering under the thin woolen blankets that smelled of naphthalene.
                  Deep down, Bert was glad to see the old Inn come back to life, even if for a little while. He was weary of the witch though. She wouldn’t be here without some supernatural mischief afoot.
                  He glanced in the empty hall, putting his muddy pair of boots outside, not to incur the fury of Finly. He almost started calling to see if anybody was home, but thought better of it. Speaking of the devil, Finly was already up and busy at the small kitchen stove, and had done some outstanding croissants. In truth, despite all her flaws, he liked her; she was a capable lady, although never big on sweet talks. No wonder she and Mater did get along well.
                  Bert started to walk along the hall towards the hangar, where he knew old cases where stored, one with a particular book that he needed. It was hard to guess what would happen next. He found the book, that was hidden on the side of the case, and scratched his head while smiling a big wide grin.
                  He was feeling alive with the kind of energy that could be a poor advisor were his mind not sharp as a gator’s tooth.

                  The book had a lot of gibberish in it, like it was written in a sort of automatic writing. For some reason, after the termite honey episode, Idle had started to collect odd books, and she was starting to see spy games hidden in the strangest patterns.
                  Despite being a lazy pothead, the girl was smart, though. Some of her books were codes.

                  Bert’s had his fair run with those during his early years in the military. So he’d hidden the most dangerous ones that Idle had unwittingly found, so that she and the rest of the family wouldn’t run into trouble.
                  Most of the time, she’d simply forget about having bought or bargained for them, but in some cases, there was a silly obsession with her that rendered her crazy about some of those books. Usually the girls, especially the twins, would get the blame for what was thought a child’s prank. Luckily her anger wouldn’t last long.

                  This book though was a bit different. Bert had never found the coding pattern, nor the logic about it. And some bits of it looked like it talked about the Inn. “Encoded pattern from the future”, “remote viewing from the past”, Idle’s suggestions would have run wild with imaginative solutions. Maybe she was onto something…

                  He looked a two bits, struck by some of the parts:

                  The inn had been open for a long time before any of the tenants had come, and it had been full of people once it had been full all day long.
                  She had gone back after a while and opened up the little room for the evening and people could be seen milling about.
                  The rest of the tenants had remained out on their respective streets and were quiet and peaceful.
                  ‘So it’s the end of a cold year.’
                  The woman with golden hair and green eyes seemed to have no intention of staying in the inn as well; she was already preparing for the next year.
                  When the cold dawn had started to rise the door to the inn had been open all night long. The young man with red hair sitting on a nearby bench had watched a few times before opening his eyes to see the man that had followed him home.

                  There was a young red hair boy that had arrived. He was curious as to the man following.

                  The other random bit talked about something else. Like a stuff of nightmares. And his name was on it.

                  The small girl stood beside him, still covered with her night clothes. She felt naked by the side of the road. There was nothing else to do.
                  In the distance, Bert could faintly hear the howling of the woods, as two large, black dogs pounced, their jaws ready to tear her to pieces. The young girl stared in wonder and fear before the dog, before biting it, then she was gone. She ran off through the bushes. “Ah…” she whispered to herself. “Why am I not alive?” She thought to herself: this is all I need.
                  If I am here, they’ll kill or hurt my kids. They won’t miss me for nothing.
                  She ran the last few kilometers to her little cottage; not long after, Bert heard the sound of the forest. He was glad it was.

                  Maybe the witch was not here for nothing after all.

                  #4719

                  Granola suddenly popped back in the real world — the one with her friends she meant. Oh, this was all rather confusing. Looking around, she was feeling quite corporeal.

                  “That can’t be right!”

                  She looked around, feeling herself. That wasn’t her body, it was Tiku’s. Yet, if she was corporeal, did it mean she was in the mental space with the story characters? Boundaries seemed to blur. She took a spin around to get a feel of the space, and fell on her bum with an infectious laughter.
                  Tiku was quite pliant and surprisingly accommodating of her in-that-body visits. It was as though they could converse, but it felt like a familiar voice of her own, not someone’s else.

                  “I’m in the magical thread of their story, am I not? It’s all in their head…” She thought. She could feel Tiku’s mind there, laughing and answering back something about the Dreamtime, that it was all the same and connected anyway.
                  “But it’s confusing as hell!” She liked a bit of order, and explanations in big bold letters.

                  A jeep coming out from the horizon followed by dark billowing smoke braked noisily in front of her.

                  “Hello there!” A girl was driving, wearing a sort of loose grey hijab, smiling at her.
                  Tiku-Granola waved as her, still sitting on her butt.

                  “Are you in trouble? No? Great. Listen, we’re looking for an Inn, it shouldn’t be very far from here. Our GPS is a piece of rubbish and is making us turn in rounds… Could you point us there, I’m afraid I took a wrong turn at the last fork in the road.”

                  Granola left Tiku to reply, as she seemed to know exactly what to answer.
                  “No Miss, you’re on the right road, it’s just a little ahead, you’ll find the old washed-out sign that points to the mines. Follow the sign until you reach the little brook, cross it and it’s on the left, 2 miles, then right, then…”

                  Arona stopped the lady.

                  “It seems a bit complicated, and my copilot here isn’t that good with memory riddles” she added pointing at Sanso. “Would you care to join us for that last mile.”

                  “Sure, of course, I was planning to go back there anyways. Never seen such activity in a while. Seems they’ll need a bit of help there, with all the guests coming.”

                  #4717
                  TracyTracy
                  Participant

                    Aunt Idle:

                    As if I didn’t have enough to think about without this! Bert had let it slip that he’d been down to the old Brundy place but that man is like a sardine tin without a key when he’s got a mind to be secretive, and he wouldn’t tell what the dickens was so important down there that he had time for it, now of all times. That got me thinking about that time the twins brought a life sized doll from down there and scared me half to death, but before I had time to start thinking about those ripped up maps that ~ I’ll be honest ~ I’d forgotten about, Finly burst in with her hand over her mouth and a wild look in her eye.

                    “Don’t be sick in here!” I snapped and quickly swung her round by the shoulders and gave her a shove in the direction of the bathroom, but then she blurted out that Prune had eaten the chicken. “Prune?” I said, admittedly rather stupidly, I mean, nobody told me Prune was coming, or had I forgotten? And then Finly shook me ~ actually shook me bodily! ~ and shouted, No, The CHICKEN! That’s when my own hand flew to my mouth, and I said, Not the chicken. Finly said Yes, and I said No, and this went on for a time until I had a moment of clarity.

                    Don’t tell her what was in the chicken, Finly, I said, Just go and give her something to make her sick. Quickly!

                    Bloody woman rolled her eyes in a most unnecessarily exaggerated fashion at me and fled. I was left contemplating the nature of modern humans and their love of theatricals when it dawned on me that making Prune take something to make her vomit, at such short and urgent notice, with no explanation forthcoming, might be difficult to accomplish. Especially for the likes of Finly. I wondered if we had time to devise a cunning plan, or if we had no choice but to resort to brute force.

                    That’s when a little voice popped in my head and said, “Magic: The last resort.”

                    #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.

                    #4714

                    Fourty four hours and 3 stopovers later, Maeve was glad to have arrived at Alice Springs airport. It was fun to see that the further she went, the smallest the aircraft became. Until it wasn’t too funny, and got almost downright scary with the last small propeller plane, that shook so much it seemed out of an old Indiana Jones movie, sans flying chicken.
                    The airport was quaint and small, the way she liked, with a passageway shaded by large swathes of fabric reminiscent of Seville’s streets. The air was surprisingly fresh, and she wondered if she’d been too optimistic about the weather and her choice of clothes, considering it was still winter down here.
                    While she was waiting at the luggage belt, she discreetly observed the other waiting people.
                    Uncle Fergus always said she had to be observant. Besides, she had a natural eye for details.

                    Apart from the few Crocodile Dundees that screamed tourists who were waiting for their oversized luggage, she could spot a few out-of-place people. One in particular, that seemed to have followed the very same route since the first layover in Vancouver. Too strange a coincidence, and the fellow was too unassuming too.

                    Maeve! MAH-EH-VEH” She jumped at the sounds. Almost didn’t recognized her own name, if she hadn’t recognized her neighbour’s voice first, and his peculiar way to pronounce it like she was a precious wahine.

                    Shawn-Paul?! What on earth are you doing here?” She frowned at him “Have you been stalking me?”
                    “No, no! It’s not like that! I’ve received those funny-looking coupons, you see…”
                    “What? You too?”

                    Now, a second person following on her tracks even through a different combination of flights was more than a coincidence. It meant danger was afoot.

                    “Shouldn’t we carpool? I looked up the trail to the inn, it’s a long drive and by the looks of it, not at all too safe for a lone woman travelling.”

                    Maeve shrugged. That may keep the other creep off her trail. “I don’t mind, but if you insist on being so chivalrous, you’re paying for the taxi.”
                    Before he could say anything, she handed him her piece of luggage to carry.

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