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  • #946
    TracyTracy
    Participant

      Oh, by the way, Gayesh….. Becky turned as she leaving his office. What about those babies? My babies, she corrected herself.

      The babies will be fine, they will be returned to the father, ahem, to Sean, the husband, for upbringing, along with the clone.

      Oh phew, said Becky, feeling slightly guilty for her lack of maternal feelings.

      Becky, Gayesh got up from behind his desk and walked over to Becky and held her hands in his, peering kindly into her eyes. Maternal feelings are not a requirement you know, it’s merely a preference of some. There’s nothing ‘wrong’ with choosing a clone to bring up your children. It’s not ‘wrong’ to choose a clone to live with a husband chosen in haste and in error…not that there are any errors! he chuckled. You will see how perfectly this will all work out. Trust me! Better still, trust YOURSELF!

      You’re so kind, Gayesh! Becky gushed. And really rather attractive too, she smiled slyly. Did she wink at Gayesh? Maybe she did. Or maybe it was one of those eye twitches. Gayesh watched her saunter down the corridor, smiling.

      #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.

      #752
      TracyTracy
      Participant

        India Louise , standing in the draughty upstairs hallway outside Bill the artist’s bedroom, jumped out of her skin as Nanny Gibbon rushed down from her room on the third floor shouting, OCH AYE THE NOO! There’s a moose loose aboot the hoose!

        Nanny Gibbon stopped abruptly when she saw India Louise.

        Och, lassie, and what are you doing here in the wee hours of the night?

        Er…..India had to think quickly. She couldn’t tell Nanny that she was hoping to tell Bill about the mummy that she and Eugenia had found in the unlocked ‘Locked Room’, so she said: There was a moose in my room! It went that way! she said, pointing up the stairs from which Nanny Gibbon had just descended.

        OCH! The hoose is infested with moose! What’ll we doooo?

        India Louise looked up at Nanny Gibbon quizzically. What was with all the ‘Och Aye’s’? Nanny was from Brittany, not Glasgow, what was the matter with her? Then India recalled the Scottish Dialect classes that Nanny had been attending…..obviously with a good deal of success.

        The truth was that Nanny Gibbon was terrified of mice (which is how non-Scots pronounce moose); she suspected a reincarnational drama involving moose, er, mice, was the root of it all.

        India was trying to think of something helpful to say (and congratulating herself on her quick thinking, although she regretted adding to Nanny’s alarm) when a shriek came from the direction of Cuthbert’s bedroom.

        Nanny and India Louise raced along the corridor and banged on Cuthbert’s door.

        OCH AYE, what NOO? Are ye alright, ma wee bairn? Open the dooor, Cuthbert! Nanny cried.

        A pale trembling Cuthbert opened the door. I had an awful nightmare! I was reading our book, you know, the funny one with the blank pages, and I turned into a wolf

        Och, there, there, ma wee laddie, there’s nay a wolf in the hoose, it’s a moose!

        Cuthbert looked up at Nanny and said, rather rudely, Are you alright? Why are you talking like that?

        #739

        Vessie Darl, Sha and I are just popping down to the beach for some more of them special beauty sea waters you told us about.

        Great idea, Gloria, responded Veranassessee vaguely. She watched absent-mindedly as Gloria’s generous body, clad only in a skimpy red bikini, disappeared down the corridor. There was something about that shade of red tugging at her memory. Vermillion red …

        Red! PLAN B! Oh my God! how could she have forgotten!

        It was two days since she had called him, that meant he would be here soon, that did not leave her much time to prepare.

        :fleuron:

        Everything has to be perfect. She wears a silk vermillion red camisole, the one he gave her, scarcely covered by lush black velvet and topped with bright red lipstick. She casts her eyes critically around the room. It is nearly three years since she has seen him, she doesn’t want to spoil this moment. The glasses of soft red merlot are ready, a plate of miniature liqueur chocolates on a plate by the bed.

        She shakes out her long dark hair and looks in the mirror. Her chocolate skin glows, her eyes are bright. She will do. She touches the red silk camisole … it is still beyond her comprehension how she can have forgotten.

        When he arrives he is beautiful. Too beautiful. she thinks. It is so easy for him, effortless. He appraises the room and laughs casually, he knows how hard she has tried. Agent V he says, a pleasure to see you again. He kisses her. She remembers everything.

        He takes a sip of the wine. She watches him, unsure of herself. He has a black bag with him.

        He looks at her, sees her looking at the bag, and smiles slowly, I have something to show you, Agent V, he says, and she can sense his pride, the barely suppressed excitement in his voice.

        He opens the bag carefully, pulls out a small white box, handles it lovingly. Two years experimentation in the Russian lab, he says softly, delicate threads of spun blue bonnet spider silk and yet strong enough to hang a bridge on.

        He looks at her. Come here. he says

        She hesitates for just a moment thinking of Mahiliki, and then inwardly shrugs, bugger it, I never really wanted to live on Fukitupi island and have loads of babies anyway. She moves over to him. He takes the transparent silk and slowly starts to wind the delicate thread around her wrists. Try and break it, he whispers in her ear, kisses her neck.

        Then stops.

        My God, what the fuck is that?

        Veranassessee sighs.

        :fleuron:

        No I swear Sha, I am telling you, I saw him go into Vessie’s room.

        Oh my God Glor, he might be a murderer, or a bloody rapist even!

        I tell you though, he were right bloody gorgeous.

        Well never mind that! The door is locked Sha. I think we’d better shout out. Make sure she’s okay.

        Right, good idea. And then if she doesn’t answer we can bash the door in and we can both pounce on him.

        Right, on the count of three Glor, we’‘ll shout out, one… two… THREE!”

        #701

        I must be talking to an angel Yurick thought, as he was feeling the presence of the lady he had seen in his dreams a few times before. Her presence was remarkably soft, yet, she was unmistakably here, like a loving sisterly figure. Yurick could see at times streaks of a shimmering blue-green halo when he was thinking of her, and this morning, walking in the underground corridors, as he was humming and thinking of this angel, his gaze landed on a movie poster, with beautiful women profiles. None of these profiles had attracted his gaze at first, but a name. Salomé.
        Then only, the poster slowly began to unfold itself into focus around that name…
        The women were beautiful and seemed to be like beams of a multitude of variations from a single energy essence, like some traditional Avalokiteshvara (Kuan Yin) representations.
        The title of that movie was “Les Femmes de l’Ombre” (Women of the Shadow), and that “Salomé” he had seen was the name of the director… How interesting symbolic information…

        While she reminded him not of the Salomé of Wilde’s play, but of another biblical figure, the Salomé of the New Testament, follower of the Christ, and likely sister of Mary, Yurick decided he would call that gentle feminine presence “Salomé”…
        A woman of the Shadow. For now…

        #690

        Sitting at her desk, Alana couldn’t focus on the document she was reading. A report from one of her companies. She could feel the energy of that French guy Langlade. He was sent by the Baron, and she knew he was dangerous. She was expecting him this morning, and it was almost 5pm. Well she was a bit overwhelmed because of what was at stake. She couldn’t allow him to take it. She couldn’t allow the Baron to use it. And she couldn’t destroy it either.

        For the moment the crystal skull wasn’t here. She was aware that Langlade knew it. Though it was not for the reason he could imagine. And she wouldn’t reveal it to him… freely.

        She called Mr Isashi. She couldn’t put it off eternally.

        — Allow him in, Mr Isashi. Though take your time.

        — Very well, Aunt.

        — Is Harry here?

        — Not yet, Aunt. Do you want me to summon him?

        — No. Maybe it’s better if he doesn’t show up.

        He looked at her furtively, and she smiled back at him. Her fear well hidden under a dose of confidence. She would never allow it to happen.

        :fleuron:

        Robert was waiting in the living room. He was lounging on a golden couch when the man came back and told him she would receive him. At last…

        Well he was not in a hurry. He was patient, and so was the Baron… for now. And apparently he was to need a lot of patience.
        The pace of the Japanese boy was slow, and he wouldn’t allow him to speed up. Apparently she was nervous and wanted him to feel so.

        The corridor was well lit. Richly decorated with paintings or statues.
        He had to admit she had a refined taste.

        They stopped before a yellow door. The boy knocked 3 times and Robert could hear that the wood was very heavy. As he opened the door, they could hear a masculine voice.

        — You may need my skills.

        :fleuron:

        — Who are you? said Alana. And how did you get here?

        #500
        F LoveF Love
        Participant

          On hearing the scream Dr Bronklehampton jumped up from what he was doing and rushed towards the laboratory where the Mummy, or Sasha Goldenwort, was having her fifth session under the laser. The only other person with any medical training of note on the island was Nurse Bellamy, who currently was down on the beach climbing coconut palms. A ridiculous pastime in Dr Bronklehampton’s opinion, however a young native boy had taught Nurse Bellamy something called the frog technique for climbing palm trees, and she now seemed to derive great pleasure from skimming up and down and bringing him back coconuts. The problem was, he reflected as he puffed down the corridor, that they had far too much time on this island with not enough to keep them occupied for some months now.

          A smell of burning greeted Dr Bronklehampton as he rushed into the laboratory. Sasha was lying outstretched on the floor.

          Dr Bronklehampton, medical expert that he was, knew at once something must have gone horribly wrong. He rang the alarm located on the wall by the door in the hope it would raise Nurse Bellamy, and rushed to Sasha’s side.

          Sasha was dead.

          He could see this immediately. Her skin, which just a short time ago was a beautiful and youthful smooth peachy colour, was now covered in purple weals.

          He sat silently for a moment thinking, then calmly and deliberately walked to the laboratory door and locked it.

          :fleuron:

          Nurse Bellamy was indeed halfway up a particularly tall palm tree when the alarm sounded. Oh bugger, she swore. By the time she arrived back at the treatment center, Dr Bronklehampton was reclining in his office. So sorry, he said with an apologetic smile, false alarm. Hope you weren’t inconvenienced. Anyway, good thing you are here, I believe two of the new guests have arrived, you might like to go and meet them.

          Oh, he said casually , as though an afterthought, Sascha decided to leave early, while the hydroplane was here. She said to say goodbye to you. Yes, she is absolutely delighted with the results of her treatment.

          #278
          TracyTracy
          Participant

            India Louise shivered in the draughty corridor and glanced furtively over her shoulder. Bill! she hissed into the keyhole. She tapped softly on the door again, afraid of waking Manon in the next room. It would be difficult enough to explain to Bill, let alone trying to explain to the nosy and rather batty cook.

            She wrapped her dressing gown tightly round her, and felt the weighty key clunk against her thigh. Eugenia and India Louise had been playing ‘let’s pretend’ with the key that Grandad Wrick had thrown on the bonfire (that India found in the ashes the next day and thought would make a super present for Eugenia….. they both loved odd little gifts).

            For days they’d been wandering around the many corridors and wings of the Wrick castle, and Eugenia’s ancient rambling Sandlebright Hall. On fine days they’d explored the grounds, the aviaries and stables and hay barns, the meadows and follies, the lodges and farm cottages, through the spinney to the river and the boathouse, and back through the rose arbours… imagining themselves in different times and places, as different people, making up stories and weaving the key into each little story…… the murder at the boathouse and the key to the mystery… the key to the kitchen and the affairs of the cook… the parrots and the key to the bird cage…… the key to the captains trunk in the attic…

            Until they found the place where the key didn’t fit into the story…that is to say, the one place that should have needed a key, The Locked Room that only great grandad Wrick ever went in, was unlocked.

            India Louise couldn’t wait to tell Bill all about it.

            #210
            ÉricÉric
            Keymaster

              Today, which was the day of the autumn equinox, had been a bright day over the Orkney Islands, quite unusual for this time of the year.

              Nanny Gibbon had been taking the twins for a walk into the nearby woods of the domain, were they could enjoy the wood dewberries that were ripe and delicious at this season. The twins loved picking them directly on the thorny bushes and eating them until their hands were full of the dark stains left by the sweet juice of the fruits.

              They knew that Nanny Gibbon would pick enough to make some delicious jam, perhaps to accompany some of her famous sweet pumpkin pies.

              When they came back to the Manor, they were exhausted by the afternoon spent in the lovely sunlight. After having washed their hands thoroughly, they didn’t really care for anything else but some sleep.

              But as they moved inside the corridors, Cuthbert noticed he had carelessly left opened his bedroom’s door, and a prick of fear for the precious books had him immediately rush to the room.

              And Cuthbert gasped in horror as he saw his book flown open on the floor, and the old grumpy cat Manfred, asleep on top of one of the blank pages.

              Manfred had the nasty habit of clawing everything, especially the huge soft armchair of Lord Wrick, but his antics were elegantly accepted by the old gaunt Lord.

              When he heard Cuthbert enter the room, the old fluffy cat raised an inquisitive eyebrow and moved very slowly and deliberately out of the book pages, only to reveal the immaculate pages, as whole as if the book had been brand new.

              Cuthbert was thrilled with joy. Manfred had not done anything to the precious book. He would have stroked the cat with gratitude, but the creature had moved out of the room very swiftly for its old age, in a haughty look of total disregard for the little boy.

              At least the book was intact. But what if… Cuthbert wondered… He started to look at the page, and new images started to form before his eyes…

              #184

              The transmugrification was about to start.

              Inspired by the improvised tune of Malvina, Leörmn had felt new arrangements coming for the cave.

              He had been checking out every living being in the cave, and wanted to make things less complicated for them, without startling them too much. For creatures, that was easy, he could communicate well with them, and they knew the changes would be temporary.

              But for humans, let alone gripshawks, that was more difficult as they could play deaf as pleased them.

              Hopefully, the gripshawk was in good hands outside the cave, and that was probably better for her, as she would probably have hurt herself more than was necessary in not listening to the exhortations to stay calm.

              As for the young adventuress, she was sleeping joyfully, and the little glukenitch that Leörmn had left to her side to keep watch and warn him in case she would be too distressed was silently watching over her.

              Írtak was aware that the process was about to begin, as he had been trained by Malvina to listen to the flimsiest changes in the cave, and how his body was responding to these subtle modifications. This one would probably become of great dragon rider, but for now he was young and needed to hone his abilities. His father had been renouncing of telling him what was best and most reasonable for him to do, and allowed him to spend much time in the cave. He was not really interested by these magical things, but he knew they were important for his son, and was encouraging, in his own manner.

              As for Malvina, she was unaffected in a way, because she was part of Leörmn as much as he was a part of her, and it was like they were moving hand in hand. These hiding and seeking the eggs were like a playful game between them, because their interests were different, but all in all, they were one, and trusted each other completely.

              The more troublesome was perhaps Sanso, the wanderer. This one seemed trapped in between Worlds. The caves at times also acted as portals between Worlds, and this one had been unknowingly crossing the Worlds, as the delimitations between imagination and reality were only in words, and did not really exist. Leörmn was hoping he would not appear in the midst of the ruckus.

              So, on one of the wooden decks near the apartments of Malvina, he sat, overlooking the glowing eggs, and bathing into the music.

              Closing his eyes, he felt every part of the cave as if it were an extension of his own body, which was in fact much bigger than this current appearance, so big in fact that it was the World itself. And every creature breathing in it was a very cherished part of his body, and he slowly breathed in and out.

              He envisioned a great light pouring from the volcanic insides of the cavern, which inundated the cave in a misty warmth. It was a loving light that neither glukenitches nor schpurniatz feared. And the sinuous insides of the caves expanded and straightened in huge corridors, and doors disappeared, and gorgeous paintings from the mind and craft of Malvina decorated the walls in rich colours.

              And near the platform, inside the hall, a huge table sprung from the floor, for the banquet that was to come.

              And a new egg was laid somewhere in the cave, glowing of an emerald tint.

              This “one” was a bit different though…

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