Daily Random Quote

  • 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. ... · ID #3171 (continued)
    (next in 14h 04min…)

Latest Activity

Search Results for 'come'

Forums Search Search Results for 'come'

Viewing 20 results - 501 through 520 (of 1,249 total)
  • Author
    Search Results
  • #4403
    F LoveF Love
    Participant

      random plot generator

      A BOOK SHOP – IT IS THE AFTERNOON AFTER ALBIE HIT HIS MOTHER WITH A FEATHER.

      Newly unemployed ALBIE is arguing with his friend JENNY RAMSBOTTOM. ALBIE tries to hug JENNY but she shakes him off angrily.

      ALBIE
      Please Jenny, don’t leave me.

      JENNY
      I’m sorry Albie, but I’m looking for somebody a bit more brave. Somebody who faces his fears head on, instead of running away. You hit your mother with a feather! You could have just talked to her!

      ALBIE
      I am such a person!

      JENNY
      I’m sorry, Albie. I just don’t feel excited by this relationship anymore.

      JENNY leaves and ALBIE sits down, looking defeated.

      Moments later, gentle sweet shop owner MR MATT HUMBLE barges in looking flustered.

      ALBIE
      Goodness, Matt! Is everything okay?

      MATT
      I’m afraid not.

      ALBIE
      What is it? Don’t keep me in suspense…

      MATT
      It’s … a hooligan … I saw an evil hooligan frighten a bunch of elderly ladies!

      ALBIE
      Defenseless elderly ladies?

      MATT
      Yes, defenseless elderly ladies!

      ALBIE
      Bloomin’ heck, Matt! We’ve got to do something.

      MATT
      I agree, but I wouldn’t know where to start.

      ALBIE
      You can start by telling me where this happened.

      MATT
      I was…
      MATT fans himself and begins to wheeze.

      ALBIE
      Focus Matt, focus! Where did it happen?

      MATT
      The Library! That’s right – the Library!

      ALBIE springs up and begins to run.

      EXT. A ROADCONTINUOUS

      ALBIE rushes along the street, followed by MATT. They take a short cut through some back gardens, jumping fences along the way.

      INT. A LIBRARYSHORTLY AFTER

      ROGER BLUNDER a forgetful hooligan terrorises two elderly ladies.

      ALBIE, closely followed by MATT, rushes towards ROGER, but suddenly stops in his tracks.

      MATT
      What is is? What’s the matter?

      ALBIE
      That’s not just any old hooligan, that’s Roger Blunder!

      MATT
      Who’s Roger Blunder?

      ALBIE
      Who’s Roger Blunder? Who’s Roger Blunder? Only the most forgetful hooligan in the universe!

      MATT
      Blinkin’ knickers, Albie! We’re going to need some help if we’re going to stop the most forgetful hooligan in the universe!

      ALBIE
      You can say that again.

      MATT
      Blinkin’ knickers, Albie! We’re going to need some help if we’re going to stop the most forgetful hooligan in the universe!

      ALBIE
      I’m going to need candlesticks, lots of candlesticks.

      Roger turns and sees Albie and Matt. He grins an evil grin.

      ROGER
      Albie Jones, we meet again!

      MATT
      You’ve met?

      ALBIE
      Yes. It was a long, long time ago…

      EXT. A PARKBACK IN TIME

      A young ALBIE is sitting in a park listening to some trance music, when suddenly a dark shadow casts over him.

      He looks up and sees ROGER. He takes off his headphones.

      ROGER
      Would you like some wine gums?

      ALBIE’s eyes light up, but then he studies ROGER more closely, and looks uneasy.

      ALBIE
      I don’t know, you look kind of forgetful.

      ROGER
      Me? No. I’m not forgetful. I’m the least forgetful hooligan in the world.

      ALBIE
      Wait, you’re a hooligan?

      ALBIE runs away, screaming.

      INT. A LIBRARYPRESENT DAY

      ROGER
      You were a coward then, and you are a coward now.

      MATT
      (To ALBIE) You ran away?
      ALBIE
      (To MATT) I was a young child. What was I supposed to do?
      ALBIE turns to ROGER.

      ALBIE
      I may have run away from you then, but I won’t run away this time!
      ALBIE runs away.

      He turns back and shouts.

      ALBIE
      I mean, I am running away, but I’ll be back – with candlesticks.

      ROGER
      I’m not scared of you.

      ALBIE
      You should be.

      INT. A SWEET SHOPLATER THAT DAY

      ALBIE and MATT walk around searching for something.

      ALBIE
      I feel sure I left my candlesticks somewhere around here.

      MATT
      Are you sure? It does seem like an odd place to keep deadly candlesticks.

      ALBIE
      You know nothing Matt Humble.

      MATT
      We’ve been searching for ages. I really don’t think they’re here.

      Suddenly, ROGER appears, holding a pair of candlesticks.

      ROGER
      Looking for something?

      MATT
      Crikey, Albie, he’s got your candlesticks.

      ALBIE
      Tell me something I don’t already know!

      MATT
      The earth’s circumference at the equator is about 40,075 km.

      ALBIE
      I know that already!

      MATT
      I’m afraid of dust.

      ROGER
      (appalled) Dude!

      While ROGER is looking at MATT with disgust, ALBIE lunges forward and grabs his deadly candlesticks. He wields them, triumphantly.

      ALBIE
      Prepare to die, you forgetful aubergine!

      ROGER
      No please! All I did was frighten a bunch of elderly ladies!

      JENNY enters, unseen by any of the others.

      ALBIE
      I cannot tolerate that kind of behaviour! Those elderly ladies were defenceless! Well now they have a defender – and that’s me! Albie Jones defender of innocent elderly ladies.

      ROGER
      Don’t hurt me! Please!

      ALBIE
      Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t use these candlesticks on you right away!

      ROGER
      Because Albie, I am your father.

      ALBIE looks stunned for a few moments, but then collects himself.

      ALBIE
      No you’re not!

      ROGER
      Ah well, it had to be worth a try.

      ROGER tries to grab the candlesticks but ALBIE dodges out of the way.

      ALBIE
      Who’s the daddy now? Huh? Huh?

      Unexpectedly, ROGER slumps to the ground.

      MATT
      Did he just faint?

      ALBIE
      I think so. Well that’s disappointing. I was rather hoping for a more dramatic conclusion, involving my deadly candlesticks.

      ALBIE crouches over ROGER’s body.

      MATT
      Be careful, Albie. It could be a trick.

      ALBIE
      No, it’s not a trick. It appears that… It would seem… Roger Blunder is dead!

      ALBIE
      What?

      ALBIE
      Yes, it appears that I scared him to death.

      MATT claps his hands.

      MATT
      So your candlesticks did save the day, after all.

      JENNY steps forward.

      JENNY
      Is it true? Did you kill the forgetful hooligan?

      ALBIE
      Jenny how long have you been…?

      JENNY puts her arm around ALBIE.

      JENNY
      Long enough.

      ALBIE
      Then you saw it for yourself. I killed Roger Blunder.

      JENNY
      Then the elderly ladies are safe?

      ALBIE
      It does seem that way!

      A crowd of vulnerable elderly ladies enter, looking relived.

      JENNY
      You are their hero.

      The elderly ladies bow to ALBIE.

      ALBIE
      There is no need to bow to me. I seek no worship. The knowledge that Roger Blunder will never frighten elderly ladies ever again, is enough for me.

      JENNY
      You are humble as well as brave! And I think that makes up for hitting your mother with a feather. It does in my opinion!

      One of the elderly ladies passes ALBIE a healing ring

      JENNY
      I think they want you to have it, as a symbol of their gratitude.

      ALBIE
      I couldn’t possibly.
      Pause.

      ALBIE
      Well, if you insist. It could come in handy when I go to the Doline tomorrow. With my friend Matt. It is dangerous and only for brave people and a healing ring could come in handy.

      ALBIE takes the ring.

      ALBIE
      Thank you.
      The elderly ladies bow their heads once more, and leave.

      ALBIE turns to JENNY.

      ALBIE
      Does this mean you want me back?

      JENNY
      Oh, Albie, of course I want you back!
      ALBIE smiles for a few seconds, but then looks defiant.

      ALBIE
      Well you can’t have me.

      JENNY
      WHAT?

      ALBIE
      You had no faith in me. You had to see my scare a hooligan to death before you would believe in me. I don’t want a lover like that. And I am going to the Doline and I may not be back!

      JENNY
      But…

      ALBIE
      Please leave. I want to spend time with the one person who stayed with me through thick and thin – my best friend, Matt.

      MATT grins.

      JENNY
      But…

      MATT
      You heard the gentleman. Now be off with you. Skidaddle! Shoo!

      JENNY
      Albie?

      ALBIE
      I’m sorry Jenny, but I think you should skidaddle.
      JENNY leaves.

      MATT turns to ALBIE.

      MATT
      Did you mean that? You know … that I’m your best friend?

      ALBIE
      Of course you are!
      The two walk off arm in arm.

      Suddenly MATT stops.

      MATT
      When I said I’m afraid of dust, you know I was just trying to distract the hooligan don’t you?

      #4401
      TracyTracy
      Participant

        Aunt Idle:

        Amazing how you can change your mind about things in the twinkling of an eye, and as I said to Bert (when he’d come down off those mushrooms or whatever was in those brownies that passing hippy gave him on the way to the guru camp over at the old copperworks place), I said to Bert, Bert I said, if you own the place lock stock and barrel, our financial worries are over. He said don’t be daft, you can’t eat the windows and doors, and what about all these dogs to feed, they can’t eat wooden beams, and I said, no listen Bert, I’ve had an idea. We don’t like banks, that’s true, and we don’t like debts, but why stand on principle and shoot yourself in the foot, I said, and I’ve heard about this thing with old people like us, that you can get the bank to give you loads of cash, and you don’t even have to pay them back until after you’re dead, and then he said, don’t be daft, how can you pay them back when you’re dead and I said Exactly, Bert! This is the beauty of it, and who knows if there will even be any more banks by the time we kick the bucket anyway, why not have our cake now and eat it, that’s what I said to Bert. And so he says, Well go on then, tell me why the bank would give us cash an I told him that they give you money because you own a house, and then when you snuff it, they have their money back. So Bert says, Yeah but they take far too much money, it’s another bank scam! And I said, Who the fuck cares, if we get the cash now when we need it? And then he said, Yeah, but what about the kids? I was gonna leave it to the kids, and I said, and I’ll be quite frank here, Fuck the kids! Who in the hell knows what the future will be like for the kids, and I told him straight: You can’t plan you’re own future, let alone trying to plan the kid’s future. Now is what matters, and right now, I need a new camera, and I need to get those tax hounds off my back. Then Bert started to smile and said, Hey, I could get me them new false teeth.

        #4395
        Jib
        Participant

          Daisy the dung beetle’s daughter applauded when she finished her creation. She had completed a big mandibala of coloured sand, patiently extracted the previous years from dungs her uncle had brought back form the outside world. He had said some of it came from a faraway land where their ancestors had been worshiped by giants. Daisy had tried to imagined being worshiped, but her limited experience of life and of the world made her Goddess dream short lived.
          But what she liked most was that she could put all those pieces of faraway lands in her own composition. She looked at the result, satisfied. At a certain time, she knew a cone of light from outside the Doline would come directly warm her mandibala and her wish to see the outside world would be granted.

          #4391
          TracyTracy
          Participant

            It had been a long time coming, but Lillianne had known there was no rush. There had been a flurry of interest many years ago, but nothing came to fruition. All the ingredients were there for a banquet of discovery, but no cooks to combine the ingredients successfully ~ until now.

            They’d been very careful to cover their tracks, even laying red herrings along the way. Others were interested, they knew that, and they knew they’d been followed, sensing the lurking energy trails behind them. But the main thing was, they got there first. Now was not a time to relax, despite the urge to just pause and revel in the accomplishment.

            “But I’m knackered, Lillianne,” whined Petra, running her hands distractedly through her tangled hair. “Surely we can take a little nap before we continue. Over there behind those rocks, look! Let’s just nip behind there.”

            Lillianne pursed her lips. There was no point in arguing with Petra when she was tired. And the more she thought about it, the more a short rest sounded enticing. The climb down into the dense wooded gorge had been arduous, and her ankle ached where she’d twisted it on a loose rock.

            “Come on then, but only half an hour!”

            #4384
            TracyTracy
            Participant

              “What we all need now”, Liz was thinking out loud, “Is a more relaxed approach. We should stop trying to be proper clever writers and just blather.”

              “If it’s supposed to be relaxed blather, why did you just fix three typo’s?” asked Finnley, the annoying maid, who had once again been peering over Elizabeth’s shoulder, looking for something to find fault with.

              “Oh come on, that’s a bit much, Liz!” Finnley retorted, accidentally on purpose slopping Liz’s tea into her ashtray, knowing a pet hate of hers was a wet ashtray.

              “Do be careful, Finnely! snapped Liz.

              “Just taking a relaxed approach to being a maid, Ma’am,” she replied rudely with a flamboyant gesture with her feather duster, which whacked Liz smartly across the back of the head as she swanned out of the room with her nose in the air.

              #4371
              TracyTracy
              Participant

                “Oh, I almost forgot to give you this,” added Finnley, presenting Liz with a packet of cotton wool. “It’s to put in your ear while you’re in the foetal position, like the statue.”

                “How did such a large statue come out of such a small packet?” Liz asked, wonderingly.

                “Never question the mystical wonders of the great ascended master. Just place the cotton wool in your ear as instructed by the Great Lord of Kale.”

                #4370

                The memories of the strange vision had faded away. Only the feeling of awe was lingering in his heart.

                Fox was walking in the forest near Margoritt’s cottage. The smell of humid soil was everywhere. Despite it being mostly decomposing leaves and insects, Fox found it quite pleasant. It carried within it childhood memories of running outside after the rain whild Master Gibbon was trying to teach him cleanliness. It had been a game for many years to roll into the mud and play with the malleable forest ground to make shapes of foxes and other animals to make a public to Gibbon’s teachings.

                Fox had been walking around listening to the sucking sound made by his steps to help him focus back on reality. He was trying to catch sunlight patches with his bare feet, the sensations were cold and exquisite. The noise of the heavy rain had been replaced by the random dripping of the drops falling from the canopy as the trees were letting go of the excess of water they received.

                It was not long before he found Gorrash. The dwarf was back in his statue state, he was face down, deep in the mud. Fox crouched down and gripped his friend where he could. He tried to release him from the ground but the mud was stronger, sucking, full of water.

                “You can leave him there and wait the soil to dry. You can’t fight with water”, said Margorrit. “And I think that when it’s dry, we’ll have a nice half-mold to make a copy of your friend.”

                Fox laughed. “You have so many strange ideas”, he told the old woman.

                “Well, it has been my strength and my weakness, I have two hands and a strong mind, and they have always functioned together. I only think properly when I use my hands. And my thoughts always lead me to make use of my hands.”

                Fox looked at Margoritt’s wrinkled hands, they were a bit deformed by arthritis but he could feel the experience they contained.

                “Breakfast’s ready”, she said. “I’ve made some honey cookies with what was left of the the flour. And Glynis has prepared some interesting juices. I like her, she has a gift with colours.”

                They left the dwarf to dry in the sun and walked back to the house where the others had already put everything on the table. Fox looked at everyone for a moment, maybe to take in that moment of grace and unlikely reunion of so many different people. He stopped at Rukshan who had a look of concern on his face. Then he started when Eleri talked right behind him. He hadn’t hear her come.

                “I think I lost him”, she said. “What’s for breakfast? I’m always starving after shrooms.”

                #4365

                The rain had poured again and again, across the night, with short fits of howling winds. There had been no sign of Eleri or Gorrash, and people in the cabin had waited for the first ray of light to venture outside to find them.
                The newcomer, the quiet potion maker, stayed in her small quarters and hadn’t really mingled, but Margoritt wasn’t concerned about it. She was actually quite protective of her, and had continued her own chatter all through the night, doing small chores or being busy at her small loom, stopping at times in the middle of painful walking. She would however not cease speaking to whomever was listening at the time, or to her goat, or at times just to the wind or herself.

                Rukshan had had several dreams during the night, and could tell he wasn’t the only one. Everyone had a tired look. Images came and went, but there was a sense of work to be done.

                There were a few things he had managed to gather during that time awake when meditative state brought some clarity to the confused images.
                First, they were all in this together.
                Then, they probably needed a plan to repair the old.
                As soon as they would find the two missing ones, he would share it with everyone.

                ‘Hng hng’ — Rukshan opened his eyes to find Olliver drawing on his sleeve. The boy wasn’t very eloquent, but his postures would speak volumes. He was pointing to something outside.

                Rukshan looked at the clearing just outside the cabin, at first not realising two things had happened. Then they both dawned on him: the first ray of light had come across the cloudy sky, and second, the clearing was empty of the vengeful God.

                “Grumpf” he swore in the old Elvish tongue “that rascal is surely going after Eleri — Eleri who he now knew was the laughing crone of the story, rendered younger by the powers of her goddaughter, the tricked girl. Eleri, who having inherited of the transmutation powers, had turned the angry God who had been left behind into stone to protect all of them.
                If the God would find her before they could get her to extract her Shard, at best they would be condemned to another cycle of rebirth, or worse, he would try to kill all of them to extract the other Shards from the others, one by one, until the Gods old powers would be his…

                #4364

                Rukshan had stayed awake for the most part of the night, slowly and repeatedly counting the seconds between the blazing strokes of lightning and the growling bouts of thunder.
                It is slowly moving away.

                The howling winds had stopped first, leaving the showers of rain fall in continuous streams against the dripping roof and wet walls.

                An hour later maybe, his ear had turned to the sound of the newly arrived at the cottage, thinking it would be maybe the dwarf and Eleri coming back, but it was a different voice, very quiet, somehow familiar… the potion-maker?

                He had warned Margoritt that a lady clad in head-to-toe shawls would likely come to them. Margoritt had understood that some magical weaving was at play. The old lady didn’t have siddhis or yogic powers, but she had a raw potential, very soundly rooted in her long practice of weaving, and learning the trades and tales of the weaving nomad folks. She had understood. Better, she’d known — from the moment I saw you and that little guy, she’d said, pointing at Tak curled under the bed.
                “He’s amazing,” she’d said “wise beyond his age. But his mental state is not very strong.”

                There was more than met the eye about Tak, Rukshan started to realize.
                For now, the cottage had fell quiet. Dawn was near, and there was a brimming sense of peace and new beginning that came with the short silence before the birds started again their joyous chatter.

                It must have been then that he collapsed on the table of exhaustion and started to dream.

                It was long before.

                The dragon is large and its presence awe-inspiring. They have just shared the shards, each has taken one of the seven. Even the girl, although she still hates to be among us.
                The stench of the ring of fire is still in their nostrils. The Gods have deserted, and left as soon as the Portal closed itself. It is a mess.

                “Good riddance.”

                He raises his head, looking at the dragon above him. She is quite splendid, her scales a shining pearl blue on slate black, reflecting the moonshine in eerie patterns, and her plastron quietly shiny, almost softly fiery. His newly imbued power let him know intimately many things, at once. It is dizzying.

                “You talk of the Gods, don’t you?” he says, already knowing the answer.
                “Of course, I am. Good riddance. They had failed us so many times, forgot their duties, driven me and my kind to slavery. Now I am free. Free of guilt, and free of sorrow. Free to be myself, as I was meant to be.”
                “It is a bit more complex th…”
                “No it isn’t. It couldn’t be more simple. If you had the strength to see it, you would understand.”
                “I know what you mean, but I am not sure I understand.”

                The dragon smiles enigmatically. She turns to the lonely weeping girl, who is there with the old woman. Except her grand-mother is no longer an old crone, she has changed her shape to that of a younger person. She is showing potentials to the girl, almost drunk on the power, but it doesn’t alleviate her pain.

                “What are you going to do about them?”

                The Dragon seems above the concerns for herself. In a sense, she is right. It was all his instigation. He bears responsibility.

                “I don’t know…” It is a strange thing to say, when you can know anything. He knows there are no good outcomes of this situation. Not with the power she now possesses.

                “You better find out quick…” and wake up,

                wake up, WAKE UP !

                #4363

                The rain stopped as suddenly as it had begun.

                Margoritt showed Glynis to a small area, partitioned off from the main room; a narrow bed, a tiny window to the outside and and a simple wooden shelf.

                “You’ll be wanting some privacy,” she said. “And something dry to wear,” she added, handing Glynis a dress, plain in shape and made from a soft woven fabric, pearly spheres woven into a dark purple background.

                The second person to give me something to wear, she mused.

                The fabric was amazing. It made Glynis think of stars at night and the way you could never see to the end of the sky. It felt both reassuring and terrifying all at the same time.

                There is magic in the hands that wove this, she thought, hesitant though to voice her thoughts to Margoritt, however kindly she seemed.

                “A master weaver has made this!” she said instead. “Was it you?”

                “No, not I … but you are right, it was made by a master … as you can no doubt see, it doesn’t fit me any longer. I’ve had it sitting there going to waste for many years and am glad to put it to use. It doesn’t cover your head like the other did, but really there is no need here.” Margoritt smiled. “Go, get changed. Come out when you are ready and I will have some tea and cake for you. Then you can meet the others properly.”

                “Is it okay? hissed Sunny in a loud whisper when they were alone, anxiously hopping from one foot to another.

                “Yes, i think so … I’ve been very careful,” Glynis reached in her pouch and gently pulled out an egg.

                “It’s amazing, isn’t it … almost golden… for sure it must be the gift the man from the market promised me in my dream … the way it just sat there on the path … lucky I did not stand on it.” She stroked the egg gently.

                “Sorry about all this, little one,” she said softly to the egg. “I wonder what creature you are inside this shell … and what safe place can we hide you till you are ready to come out of there?”

                “I can sit on it of course,” said Sunny. “It will be my honour and privilege to assist.”

                #4360

                “Ah, here you are at last,” said Margoritt to the rain sodden Glynis. “Come in, my dear, come in. Yes, yes, of course your parrot can come too. What’s his name? Sunny? Welcome, welcome … a little late, but in time nonetheless. I’ve been expecting you.”

                #4359
                ÉricÉric
                Keymaster

                  “So, that’s where the gardener has been hiding all this time…” Godfrey thought, quietly stepping out of the shadows into the sinkhole tunnels. “Maybe I’ll just tell Liz’ he has resigned. Although she seemed more taken by this one than with the previous guys…”
                  While the gardener was snoring loudly, he took time to look around, and noticed the sprouting sack.
                  “How curious that those old books have started to come to life again…”

                  An idea had crossed his mind, both dreadful and exciting. The portal…

                  Leaving the gardener to his dreams, and taking another secret exit out of the dark tunnel, opening another succession of doors with the turn of a key hanging from the watch chain of his burgundy waistcoat, he soon found himself reappearing into a deep secret place. A small round room, almost like the inner chamber of a burrow, with no visible door, no window, seemingly lit only by a single ray of light coming from the pinhole in the ceiling, reflected on the glittering curved walls. At one side, was a well, and one could hear the humming sound of flowing underground water.
                  On the well, where deeply carved words : “HC SVNT DRACONES”. Just below them, painted in white in Godfrey’s flowering handwriting : “Here be dragons!”

                  There still was the heavy latch, bolted by a large futuristic-looking lock.

                  Phew, still closed. Godfrey sighed a sigh of relief. He couldn’t imagine the damage to Liz’ frail hold on reality, where she to find about what was lurking behind.

                  Popping a peanut in his mouth, he smiled wryly, reminisced of what Finnley had said about her “discovering” of the attic; yes, their secret was fine with them for now. At least so long as what was locked on the other side stayed there of course…

                  #4358
                  F LoveF Love
                  Participant

                    “Jingle, where are you?” asked Finnley grumpily, peering into the darkness of the attic.

                    “Here”, hissed Jingle from behind some boxes. “Has that dreadful man gone yet?”

                    “Nope, still here. Drooling over Liz no doubt.”

                    “I won’t go back to my mother! That awful woman!”

                    “Well you can’t stay here so you had better go out the window.”

                    “What window? There is no window!” whimpered Jingle.

                    Oh for Flove’s sake! thought Finnley. No imagination. That’s her trouble.

                    Adroitly, she whipped out some power tools and cut a hole in the roof.

                    “There!” she said, taking a step back to survey her work. “A window. Now, off you go. And don’t come back.”

                    “Oh thank you, Finnley. You are wonderful!”

                    “I am, aren’t I,” smirked Finnley.

                    And after all, Liz didn’t even know she had an attic so she certainly won’t notice a window.

                    #4353
                    TracyTracy
                    Participant

                      “Pepe pulled his truck up at the polling station,” Liz wrote, suddenly seized with an idea, “And voted for the nice man with the straggly beard. He knew that he would win, and wanted to add his voice to the collective choice.”

                      “That’s outrageous, Liz!” spluttered Finnley. “You can’t tamper with elections by writing the outcome into the story!”

                      “Can’t? I just did!” she replied grimly.

                      #4351

                      “Oh no!” Margoritt swore loudly, “not that cursed rain again!”.
                      They were about to share what was left of the cake for dessert when the first booming strike of thunder resounded violently across the mountains.

                      She cupped her hands in front of her mouth to rally the troops over the noisy rumble of the heavy dark clouds. “Inside! Everyone inside!” — when the rains started in spring, they could go on for days, drenching the countryside in curtains of water.

                      The first drops falling, quickly extinguishing the candles, Rukshan raised his head to look at the darker skies covering completely the moon’s glow “This is no ordinary rain…”

                      “You bet, it isn’t!” Margoritt said, looking more sombre than she ever was. “That magical umbrella won’t be enough this time, we are probably going to have to sit that one out inside. Help me bring the animals inside.”

                      In front of the small cottage, everyone else started to hurry inside, bringing back the plates, cups and leftovers, while Rukshan was preparing some wood for the fire to keep the moist away.

                      “Has anybody seen Eleri?” Yorath’s look was concerned. “She seem to have disappeared somewhere as usual… But she hasn’t come back yet,… and I’m afraid she took a large bite of the trancing cake too. It’s not a good night to trance out.”

                      Rukshan was torn between waiting a bit longer, or going to search for her, which would be risking lives during the dark stormy night. He was about to offer to go outside himself when Gorrash said briskly:
                      “Let me go find her, this storm is nothing, and I’m used to the dark. You all should stay inside. If I don’t come back at the break of dawn, you can go out to look for us, but don’t worry too much about me, I’ll blend in.” He winked at Fox who smiled weakly. He didn’t like this type of cold rain. Its smell was damp and rotten.

                      “Thank you Gorrash, that is very noble of you. Please, take care of yourself, and be back soon.” Rukshan said as he opened the door which was now jerking violently against the darkest night.

                      #4350
                      ÉricÉric
                      Keymaster

                        Those things people discard… in his life as the rubbish collector, Pepe had seen many. The unusual large package was just one of the highlights of the day; it’s like Providence meant for him to have this thrown away parcel.

                        Curious they didn’t even bother to open it, though he thought as he put it on the front of the truck. He probably would keep it for awhile, to see if anybody claims it back. You’d never know with the lot of crazy hoarding people in this lot. It was not the first time their batty help threw stuff away.

                        If not, whatever that was inside would probably join his large collection.
                        Over 20 years of gathering discarded books, he could almost open a library. And it didn’t matter how much he would give away, more would come back. It was a blessed curse, he used to say.

                        #4347
                        ÉricÉric
                        Keymaster

                          “I don’t have time for that” Godfrey said loudly, grumpy at being woken up by the smikst alert. “There are some people who do actually have real work to do.”

                          It was not difficult for him to ignore the “come back here right this instant!” of Liz’ when he walked away to the secret passageway that let him pop in and out of scenes like a peanut from its shell. He still had earplugs from his sleeping attempt, and thought they were actually quite useful.
                          Liz’ was far more than capable of handling the German and her ex without him.

                          #4343

                          “I had another vivid dream last night, Sunny. I dreamed of a man I met when i was selling my potions in the market place in town. He was chasing a little red fox and I gave him some potion … “

                          “You dreamed of a fox? That’s a very good omen and fortuitously also reminds me of a joke.
                          What do you call a fox with a carrot in each ear?
                          Anything you want as he can’t hear you!”

                          Glynis smiled reluctantly.

                          “No, that’s what happened. I’ve not got to the dream part yet.”

                          “My apologies,” said Sunny, nudging her ear gently from his perch on her shoulder. “Please continue.”

                          “Anyway the man from the market came to me in my dream and thanked me. He said his wife was well now. He said to look for a gift in the heartwoods.”

                          “Excellent dream!” said Sunny. “I adore gifts. I will keep my eyes open and hope we find it poste haste. How much further is it now, anyway?”

                          “Another few days travel to the fringe of the heartwoods. According to the map, that’s where the first X is.”

                          They continued in silence, glad of each other’s company on the journey.

                          Glynis had been sad to leave the Bakers and more than a few tears were shed on parting They tried to get her to stay but it was without much conviction for Glynis had shown them the map and, though plain folk, they had sound instincts and knew when something had to be.

                          “Any time you want, Girl,” said Mr Baker gruffly, “you’ll find a home here. You hear me? And make sure you keep in touch.”

                          And Glynis nodded, unable to find the words to thank him for his kindness.

                          And Mrs Baker had made her a new burka. She’d stayed up nights sewing to surprise Glynnis. It shimmered, sometimes green and sometimes blue depending on where the light fell and it felt like silk to the touch. Glynis thought it was the most pretty thing she had ever seen.

                          “You’ve a lovely heart, Lass, and anyone who’s worth a penny will see that and not those scales on your face.”

                          It was the first time either of the Bakers had mentioned her appearance and for a moment Glynis was rendered speechless.

                          But not so, Sunny.

                          “Knock, knock!” he cackled loudly. “Oh come on! It’s a good one!”
                          “Who’s there?” said Glynis softly.
                          “Dragon!”
                          “Dragon who?”
                          “Dragon your feet again?”

                          #4341

                          Before he closed it to prepare for the dinner, the page of the book had said “She is coming, heralded by Sunshine, and thus will the Gathering start”. Rukshan could be quite literal and thought that she wouldn’t come today, since the sun was about to set.
                          He wasn’t sure how the words had found their way into the book, and if the She was who he thought She was. In short, he was getting confused.

                          Back there, the Hermit’s message had been so clear, so urgently present.
                          Find who you were, find what you stole, and give it back. Then the threads will unravel and the knot of all the curses will be undone.

                          And yet, he started to doubt his path.

                          The high-pitched cry of “Circle of Eights” pierced through the fog of his mind, and Rukshan realised suddenly that… that was it. Why else, all these people would be around this place at this auspicious moment?

                          The trees’ messages had been shown right. He was the Faying Fae. The Sage Sorceress was probably still on her path, but the Teafing Tinkeress hunted by a god, the Gifted Gnome, on his way to become his own maker under the protection of a Renard Renunciate looking for lost souls… They were there. Five in total; with himself (Rukshan) — the potion-maker, Eleri, Gorrash, Fox, these were the rest of the names, and they made the five first strands. Who were the last two? Olliver, Tak?

                          Olliver would surely have rounded everyone around for the dinner by now.
                          Rukshan placed the book back into the bag. He would explain to everyone then, read the old tale of the seven thieves and their curses, and maybe they could all formulate a plan for remembrance.
                          Yes, remembrance was the first step. How to know what to do if you didn’t know who they were, what they stole…

                          He wasn’t too sure what to do with the God in torpor yet. He seemed less of a danger in his current state. That a God had been left behind, stuck in stone for so long, and right under their nose was mind-boggling. Another mystery to be revealed.
                          Surprisingly —and luckily— Olli had explained, Hasamelis seemed to believe that the young boy was a genius wizard, so he would maybe listen to Olli.

                          The second ‘Circle of Eights!’ seemed closer this time.

                          #4337

                          As the night was coming on the party, lanterns were lit around the place, and Gorrash started to wake up.
                          He felt grumpy, and ready to take on the world, but suddenly realized there was quite a crowd assembled around the long table set up in front of the shack.
                          He would have grumpfed and grumbled and sworn angrily that they had started without him, but someone had put a nice plate of pebbles in front of him.
                          He couldn’t help but smile Nice touch, pointy ears!

                          His friend the owl hooted as if in approval.
                          “Oh there you are…” he said, seeing it was perched on… what exactly?
                          There was another statue, a big old winged thing that wasn’t there yesterday.

                          “Fox has some explaining to do…” he thought, wondering about this… Then he was startled to realise that said statue was just a strange large being, stuck in a sort of hypnotic trance.

                          “Has he woken yet?” the dwarf turned around to see the young lad who had addressed him, coming in his direction. “The witch’s magic mushrooms are very strong… it’s his fault; he wouldn’t calm down…” the lad said sheepishly.
                          As the dwarf was looking at the owl for explanation, she just decided to fly away for some vole hunting.
                          “Hello, I’m Olli… Olliver is the name.”
                          “Well, I’m Gorrash. You can call me Gorrash.”
                          “Mr Go- go-gorrash, the Fae has called all of us to tell us something, could you come please…”

                          Gorrash pointed at the tranced out god “and what about this big guy?”

                          Olli shrugged, “Ruk- Ruk-, Rukji said we can leave him there, he will join us later on the trip…”

                        Viewing 20 results - 501 through 520 (of 1,249 total)

                        Daily Random Quote

                        • 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. ... · ID #3171 (continued)
                          (next in 14h 04min…)

                        Recent Replies

                        WordCloud says