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  • #5971

    In reply to: Story Bored

    Jib
    Participant

      BOARD 3

      BOARD 3 Story 1:
      Sha, Glo, Mav after a week of beauty treatment while Sophie is having a hard time.
      Escape game turned wrong down in the Wrick’s manor crypt.
      Rukshan marrying Margoritt and Mr Minn with a few guests in the enchanted forest.

      #5965

      Mavis, Sharon and Gloria were looking like icy popsicles in their cubicles, with only their heads popping out.

      Berenice, still under training, was overseeing the process, daunted by the alarming number of blinking buttons from the apparatus. She tried to look composed, knowing full well her aunt Barbara wouldn’t make preferential treatment if she were to make a blunder.

      “BWAAAAHA!” blurted out Gloria coming out of what appeared to have been a very lucid dream.

      “WHAT NOW?! Bloody hell Glor’ you’re goin’ to get us all a tart attack!” Sharon shouted from the adjacent cubicle.

      “I just got meself the most horrid dream Shar’, you know wot?”

      “Don’t say, my Glor'” Mavis said, having left her ears on the nearby table with her shining teeth too. “It’s that about anuther wet dream with Flump?”

      “Good Lord no! WORSE even!”

      “WOT now?” Sharon couldn’t help but ask, shushing with a mean eye the poor Berenice.

      “NURSE TRASSIE! She was comin’ fur us!”

      “Oh bloody hell. Haven’t they confined her already?” Sharon dismissed with a shrug that made the whole concrete floor vibrate like a panzer washing machine in dry mode. “Look lassies, that’s more interesting.” She nodded towards the haggard Sophie lying on one of the tables. “Brought us some competition on the looks area it seems.”

      “What?” Mavis strained to hear.

      “Look dammit! The poor fashion-impeded soul that landed on a waiting list for one of our spots. Gosh, that latex thingy she sports makes me all blushy! But don’t you worry. She can’t be competition to us, ladies. That cryo-treatment is already working I can tell.”

      She felt the need to add and punctuate towards Berenice “And no thanks to you, young lady. You should learn from me. Never been afraid to push a button in my life!”

      #5948

      In reply to: Scrying the Word Cloud

      ÉricÉric
      Keymaster

        Voice town welcome virus suddenly
        Dusty complete plague flew trail
        Fell party change attention crying
        Walk move drama married experiment
        Arthur baby showed deal stress
        Rose legs aren luckily doctor
        Resumed worn shaman spotted focused
        Throwing cool arona giant secretive
        Considering cave mangled pearl offer
        Mystery powder

        #5818

        Dear Diary

        Cousin Lisa came calling yesterday morning and she tells us there’s some in the Village have come down with sickness. Of course it would be Lisa being the bearer of such news, her face lit up when I tell her I have heard nothing. Cook, over hearing our conversation, which was private but Cook is always sticking her great nose in where it is not required, she’s hung braids of garlic at the front door. I caught her telling the children it was to keep away the evil spirits that brought death. Poor little Jimmy couldn’t sleep last night he was that afraid of the spirits bringing death in the night. He asked endless questions,  how will the garlic stop them? Can the spirits get in through a window instead? He got his sister afraid also and the pair of them wouldn’t sleep then for crying in fear. I told Cook off roundly this morning for speaking to them thus.

        The master came home filled with drink, crashing around like the damned drunken fool he is nowadays. He shouted at the children for their crying and shouted at me for not keeping them quiet. At least he did not raise his fists for he wanted to lie with me and I nearly retched with his stinking breath coming close and thank God for His mercies that the fool passed out before he could do the deed. I may have done harm if he’d tried for the brass bell was sitting there on the table (and it is a heavy thing) and I was seeing at it as he came close and there was a moment I could have picked it up and crashed it to his skull. May God forgive me. 

        He makes my skin crawl for I know what he has done that he thinks I don’t know. But all will come to light if not in this world then the next. I am more sure than ever I must get away and the children with me.

        #5663

        Meanwhile, Granola was doing her yearly assessment with Ailill, and it didn’t go as planned. She’d hoped for recognition and an increase of responsibilities, but nothing of that sort was given.

        She’d felt like crying and had to pop in the little dog in the room to whine insistently and express her frustration.

        Ailill had said she wasn’t at fault, but management, blahblah. She would have loved to strangle him at the moment; all her efforts, her successful pop-ins, and the gruesome timeless experience trapped in the Doctor’s crystal… That ought to be worth something. She was still dedicated to her work and her vision to help people around. Rather that than being hanging around with blissful dudes in an ethereal after-life.

        “Where is the fun?” she’d asked to the vortex Ailill had made when he left. The vortex had answered in sparkles and she’d suddenly felt connected to her friends. She felt confident their story was now in their own capable hands, and she was free to explore new dimensions. There was potential in a tart wreck repackage. It finally brought an inner smile back to her thoughts before she jumped in: “To boldly go where no man has gone before!”

        #5652

        Finnley had a feeling that May down in the kitchen knew something about the baby girl imposter.  On impulse, she pushed her cleaning cart over to the service lift.  Luckily the baby was still sleeping soundly.

        May was in the lavatory, a young woman informed Finnley as she entered the kitchen.

        “Are you Finnley?” Fanella pushed her chair back and stood up. “I ‘ave come to ‘elp you with the bedding.”

        The familiar voice roused the baby, whose cry was at once recognized by her mother. Fanella knocked her chair over a she dived into the pile of dusters and seized the child.  “My baby!” she cried.

        “Thank god for that,” said Finnley under her breath.

        #5648

        It was the new moon. Rukshan had been walking into the dark of the forest for some time. The noises of nocturnal animals felt like deep silence after his return from the land of the Giants. There, day and night, the giants were restless. You could hear them growling and shouting. It didn’t matter if it was a nasty fight or a friendly brawl, the noise had been taxing for his nerves and his right eye was still twitching randomly.

        Rukshan stopped a moment. The silence almost made him cry of relief and he thought in that moment the enchanted forest deserved its name.

        He took a deep breath. His nose wiggled, tickled by the scent of smoke from a fire. He was close to his destination, then. He had been following symbols traced with moon paint on the trees, a trail that only his Fae eyes could see even without moonlight. Humans would not to see it the same way. This trail of symbols might even have been left for him by someone who wanted  to be found when he would come back.

        Rukshan had found the start of the trail by chance behind the cottage after diner today. He had told Glynis he needed fresh air. The truth was that he had been alone for so long now that having so many people around him made him feel a bit claustrophobic. He had spotted was a faint glow behind a jasmin bush and had thought it was one of the baby snoots. As he was feeling the need for some pet company he had walked up to the bush. Instead of a creature there was the first glowing symbol, a spiral with seven sticks that looked like a hand with seven fingers. Not long after Rukshan had found another symbol, and another. It was clear the hands made a trail for him to follow. So he had followed.

        Soon, he found a wooden shack. Smoke was coming out of a hole in its roof and light from the windows. Rukshan could hear two people talking together. One was asking questions and the other answering them. He recognised the voices.

        He didn’t bother to knock on the door.

        “So that’s where you’ve been going every night after diner”, Rukshan said to Fox.

        “I’ve been waiting for you”, said Kumihimo the shaman.

        “I’m her new apprentice”, said Fox. “You’ve been away for so long”, he added as if apologising for something.

        A wet and warm thing touched Rukshan’s hand. Ronaldo the donkey brayed to welcome him. “Of course you are here too”, said the Fae. He found an apple he had put in his pocket after diner and gave it to the donkey. Ronaldo rolled up its chops and gave a heehaw full of joy, sparkles in its eyes.

        “Good, you haven’t forgotten good manners”, said the shaman. “Now, seat! We have much to talk about.”

        #5645
        F LoveF Love
        Participant

          I grabbed the baby when nobody was watching. That’s most of the time. I nestled him comfortably on the dusting cloths in my cleaning cart and told him not to cry .

          I popped my head into the lounge on the way past. The Aunties were both snoozing with their feet up and their mouths open. “Good afternoon, Miss June, Miss April!” I added a smile that would melt butter, maybe even stone. I don’t know. I’m new to this smiling carry-on. They ignored me, as usual, but maybe they were just asleep.

          I didn’t really have a plan. I just had a feeling about this baby.

          And, I was right. Barron turns out to be a girl. I don’t know who else know … that maid has to know. She’s the one changes his .. her … nappies.

          I am going to get to the bottom of this. Haha. Excuse the joke.

          In the meantime, the baby is safe with me.

          #5614
          Jib
          Participant

            Suddenly May had a doubt. She had been so focused on her inner ramblings about men’s reputation, prostitution and what knot that… something felt awfully wrong with the baby. Not the shouting and crying, not even the smell from the dark ages. No something more subtle that kept her awake. She had to be sure.

            She woke up and put on some a brown woollen gown on top of her silky night gown (her little pleasure). She had to be sure nobody would pay attention to her, but she couldn’t resist the soft touch of silk on her skin. Anyway, she went rushing in the baby’s room and unclothed it.

            There it was, right in front of her. It was not baby Barron, it was a girl! She had been fooled by the clothes and the awful mess the baby had done in its pants. And for sure she had looked away because the smell, and she didn’t really liked babies.

            “Oh Look who’s awake!” said the voice of June, thick with bad Maotai.

            May felt the blood drain off her face. She dressed the baby back up to hide the missing appendage.

            “Oh! Nice baby Barron,” she said trying to hide the quiver in her voice. “Look who’s back, your two favourite Aunties.” May turned to face the two au pairs with a forced smile on her face. The baby started to cry.

            #5606
            TracyTracy
            Participant

              Aunt Idle:

              I wish now that I’d had the sense to open the letter in private. I can’t imagine why I didn’t think of that, but I didn’t. I tried not to make a drama out of it, I didn’t make an announcement or anything. One morning after breakfast I untied the string and opened the letter. It wasn’t any of the things I had expected.  Clearly printed in large capital letters at the top was written DON’T TELL MATER.

              Quickly I folded it over, dropping it discreetly into my lap under the table.   “Any more nettle tea in the pot, Bert?” I asked and feigned a casual yawn.

              “Well?” asked Mater.

              “Well what?” I asked.

              “I can read you like a book,” she said, to which I replied hotly, “Well then I won’t need to write one, will I.”

              “What did the letter say?” she pressed on.

              “What letter?” I said

              “For crying out loud!” she said.

              “Pass your cup then,” said Bert, giving me a piercing look. Over the top of Mater’s head he mouthed a word, with a questioning look. I’ve never been any good at lip reading, but it looked like he was trying to say Jasper.

              “Who?” I mouthed back, but Mater saw me, so I pretended I had a bit of nettle stuck between my teeth.

              “For crying out loud,”  Mater said again which elicited an exasperated remark from Bert about broken records, open books, unread letters and lost marbles.

              #5596
              F LoveF Love
              Participant

                Mater

                I told Prune how I couldn’t follow these internet link thingies everyone’s so fond of. Didn’t grow up with computers I guess; it was all letters in my day. I said to Prune, “Will you just tell me who Jasper is, for crying out loud?” Cheeky begger told me not to worry about it and would I like a cuppa? Then she asked how old am I! “I was born in 1935,” I told her. “You do the bleedin’ maths!”

                Anyway, Dodo is still carrying on about the letter. It worries me. Better not tell young Prune that. Haha.

                I wish I knew who Jasper was though. Feels like it is something I should remember. I’ll have to remember to ask Prune again.

                #5586
                matermater
                Participant

                  “For crying out loud.”

                  #4867

                  In reply to: The Stories So Near

                  ÉricÉric
                  Keymaster

                    As it happens…

                    POP-IN THREAD (Maeve, Lucinda, Shawn-Paul, Jerk, [Granola])

                    Maeve and Shawn-Paul have left the Inn in Australia to travel to Tikfijikoo. What they are still doing there is anybody’s guess. Might have do with dolls, and rolling with it.

                    In Canada, Lucinda has enrolled in a creative fiction course, and is doing progress… of sorts.

                    Granola managed to escape the red crystal she was trapped in, after it cracked enough due to the pull of her friends’ memories.

                    FLYING FISH INN THREAD (Mater/Finly, Idle/Coriander/Clove, Devan, Prune, [Tiku])

                    The Inn is back to its normal routine, after the bout of flu & collective black-out.

                    Connie and Hilda have come out of the mines.

                    The others, we don’t know.

                    DOLINE THREAD (Arona, Sanso/Lottie, Ugo, Albie)

                    In the Doline, Arona has reunited with Vincentius, but is not ready for a family life of commitments.

                    NEWSREEL THREAD (Ms Bossy, Hilda/Connie, Sophie, Ricardo)

                    Sharon, Gloria and Mavis, are undergoing some cool fun in the cryochambers for beauty treatments.

                    Ms Bossy & Ricardo are speechless. Literally.

                    LIZ THREAD (Finnley, Liz, Roberto, Godfrey)

                    There’s always something happening. Listing it is not the problem, but keeping track is.

                    DRAGONHEARTWOOD THREAD (Glynnis, Eleri, Fox/Gorrash, Rukshan)

                    Rukshan is in the doldrums of the land of Giants’, an unexplored parallel dimension.
                    Gorrash has started to crystallize back to life, but nobody noticed yet.

                    Cackletown & the reSurgence (Bea, Ed Steam & Surge team, etc.)

                    Ed is back to the Cackletown dimension after some reconnaissance job on the whole dolls story interference. Might have spooked Maeve a little, but given the lack of anything surgey, have sort of closed this case and gone back to HQ.

                    #4863

                    Though nobody had really noticed, the stones had started to slowly come back together, as if magnetically drawn to each other, like an impossible jigsaw puzzle putting itself back into shape.

                    In the faint glow of the cave near the cottage, where the stone remains of Gorrash had been laid to rest, slow drips of calcite had stated to weld back together the little bits that wanted to connect.

                    Over the course of days, the enthusiastic dance of the little colorful baby Snoots had seemed to encourage the minerals to continue this gentle accretion.

                    True that to the naked eye of humans, nothing had changed yet, or hardly so.

                    But, to the patient trees nearby, it felt as though… Gorrash was slowly crystallizing back to life again.

                    #4862

                    “Init been quiet as being caught in the doldruffs, my Mavis?” Sha was sandwiched in the cryogenic apparatus like a tartine in a toaster, with her ample person protruding like cheese squeezed in too much.

                    The door flung open.

                    “Good Lord, aren’t them splendigious, those little tarts, meringue and all.”

                    Berenice, Barb’s niece, trotting in his steps, taking her role as the new temp assistant very seriously was about to voice a response that he quickly tutted away. “I wasn’t talking to you.”

                    “Took me a while to find out the thread though, buried through all that poubelle creative thinking and monologues, and bla and bla. Action all gone missing safe for a little excitement in Tik…” He stopped, looking around suspiciously. “They’re here, I know. Stop it, now. Hey. Shut up!”

                    He turned to Berenice. “I wasn’t talking to you. Who are you by the way? Has Liz or Lucinda written you in?”

                    Sha, and Glo, and Mavis, all squeezed in the cryotanks were not wasting a drop of the show.

                    “He’s been acting all strange, since he cracked that red crystal.”
                    “Shht, Glo. You don’t want him to get mad and stop all our beauty treatment. I can feel my skin tighten and dewrinkle.”
                    “T’is like ironing, fussure. Some steam and a good hot iron to remove the wrinkles.”
                    “Ahahah, wrinkles yourself, they’re more like crevices, hihihi!”
                    “But first, nuffin like a ice treatment to tighten the glutes.”
                    “Oh uhuh, haha, she said glutes like a snotty beauty specialist. Next she’ll say we need to do Pontius Pilates…”

                    Berenice couldn’t help herself. She blurted out in one quick sentence “But what are you planning to do with them, Doctor?”

                    He paused a moment his conversation with the invisible guests then turned nonchalently at B.

                    “But just… perfecting them, sweet thing. Oh, and love what you did with the beehive.”

                    #4858
                    ÉricÉric
                    Keymaster

                      “Well, where were we?” Jerk took the articles where he left them when he got up to check the price on one lacking a barcode.
                      The blip blip resumed, with the impatient twitching lady pouncing on the items as soon as they passed the scanning, to cram them into her compostable bag.

                      Days were stretching in ennui, and he started to feel like an android. At least, the rhythmical blips and “Have a good day, thank you for your purchase” were now part of his muscle memory, and didn’t require much paying attention to.

                      He’d renewed the yearly fee to maintain his group website yesterday, but he wasn’t sure why he did it. There were still the occasional posts on the groups he was managing, but the buzz had died already. People had moved to other things, autumn for one. Really, what was the point of maintaining it for 3 posts a week (and those were good weeks, of course not counting the spam).

                      There was fun occasionally, but more often than not, there were harangues.
                      He wondered what archetype he was in his life story; maybe he was just a background character, and that was fine, so long as he wasn’t just a supporting cast to another megalomaniac politician.

                      The apartment blocks were he was living were awfully quiet. His neighbours were still in travel, he wondered how they could afford it. Lucinda was completely immersed in her writing courses, and Fabio was still around amazingly – Lucinda didn’t look like she could even care of herself, so a dog… Meanwhile, the town council was envisaging a “refresh” of their neighborhood, but he had strong suspicion it was another real-estate development scheme. Only time would tell. He wasn’t in a rush to jump to the conclusion of an expropriation drama —leave that to Luce.

                      Friday would have been her 60th brithday (funny typo he thought). Their dead friend’s birthday would still crop up in his calendar, and he liked that they were still these connections at least. Did she move on, he wondered. Sometimes her energy felt present, and Lucinda would argue she was helping her in her writing endeavours. He himself wasn’t sure, those synchronicities were nice enough without the emphatic spiritualist extrapolations.

                      “Happy birthday Granola.” he said.

                      :fleuron2:

                      Another crack appeared on the red crystal into which Granola was stuck for what felt like ages.

                      “About time!” she said. “I wonder if they have all forgotten about me now.”

                      She looked closely at the crack. There was an opening, invisible, the size of an atom. But maybe, just maybe, it was just enough for her to squeeze in. She leaned in and focused on the little dot to escape.

                      #4801

                      “Hyvää päivää hyvät naiset.”

                      “Bwawhahahaa” the three ladies rolled in fits of hysterical laughter.

                      “God dag damer?”

                      “OOooooh, AAAhhahaha.”

                      “I should have guessed they weren’t models enough to be Finns or Swedes.” muttered Barbara under her chin hair, readjusting her beehive ‘do. She almost regretted all the time spent learning the languages through the Fuertolingo app.

                      “Come right this way ladies, there are some measurements to be done, and extension works needed on the machines. I’m afraid the cryogenic caisson wasn’t sized for… your accomplishments.”

                      “Isn’t she a peach, bwahaha, wot nonsense! Let’s follow that moppet, your augustancies! Ooohuhuhu!” Sharon hooted all wobbly.

                      #4792

                      The Doctor was at times confused about his own plan. Well, most of the time if felt clear and perfectly diabolical, and he could easily understand why at times lesser minds could get confused about the twists and turns —and to those lesser minds, it would usually suffice to say “don’t worry, it’s all part of the Plan.” It was difficult to properly phrase the sentence so that the Plan doesn’t get too easily confused with any plan. But he was expert in conveying that it wasn’t a mere plan.

                      After having tried and used old or elaborate devices beyond known technology like alleged alien crystal skulls to outcomes of various satisfaction in the past, he’d realized that those so called AI technologies were a silent gangrene for the mind. By becoming more tech-savvy, people lost their savoir and their savour by relying too much on external support. People were becoming malleable, predictable, and replaceable.

                      His bloody assistant was a sad testament to the downward evolution humanity was rushing towards. It was a strange and sad irony, that by enhancing their ineptitude, he was actually working to the perfection of the human race.

                      “Ah yes! Evolution!” That was his legacy, and he was of course profoundly misunderstood.

                      This whole sad business with the chase after the dolls and the keys and the remote control of magpies, and the psychic blasts, beauty treatments and Barbara enhancements, all that made sense once you showed it in the proper light. These were the catalyst to the real and interesting events. The ones which mattered.

                      It all started after the Army got him out of his prison rot in exchange for his work on some special science experiments. Top-secret, evidently. His handler, a certain nobody by the name of Fergus, was assigning him the experiments.
                      While he was dutifully working on his assigned projects, he quickly realized that he was given vast funding which would have taken him more time to gather on his own, so he did his part, all while experimenting and honing his skills. Clearly, the Army lacked any vision beyond the confines of “find a better way to torture, maim or kill mass amount of individuals.” Primates. Luckily, their experiments with remote control, brainwashing, and body modelage were less gory than the average science experiments, and far more into his own area of expertise.

                      It took him 5 years to escape. This plan (a smaller plan, part of the Plan which had not yet fully hatched at the time) — this plan for an escape started to form when Fergus let slip important bits of information, which seemed insignificant taken in isolation, but meant a whole new area of discoveries when put together by a brilliant mind like his own.
                      Fergus started to gloat about securing some secrets as a blackmail or fail-safe policy in case the Army’s “hired help” misbehaved. This part was known for a long time, it was what was called our ‘retirement plan’ in the contract we signed. What was more peculiar was when he started to let details slip about the method. All thanks to little doses of hypnotic potion in spiked shared drinks, courtesy of the Doctor. It seemed clear that this elaborate scheming of keys and dolls was child’s play and nothing particularly genius, however what was more interesting was when Fergus started to realize that the dolls his niece had made somehow matched certain persons of interest without her conscious knowing. There was a deeper mystery to be cracked, and even Fergus wondered if the Army had not tempered with his family genetics to induce certain characteristics or something of the like. Well, all ramblings of a simpleton you would say, but maybe it wasn’t.
                      After all these searches to externalize certain abilities of the mind, the Doctor was starting to get fascinated by people exhibiting these qualities naturally.

                      The appearance of this strange red crystal seems to confirm these doubts. There are untapped forces at play, and maybe doors that could be opened.

                      Barbara suddenly irrupted into the room “Our guests are coming, just received a text!”

                      The Doctor sighed thinking some doors should remain closed.

                      #4790

                      Vincentius?” Arona was surprised to see him back in the cave; she looked at Leörmn with a doubtful raised eyebrow.
                      “Don’t look at me like that, dear”, the dragon replied “he found his own way back to you.”
                      “It was all thanks to YikesyVincentius said.

                      Albie was confused as ever.

                      Albie! Where have you been!” His mother Freda (or was it Lottie?) was howling from the top of the stone staircase overlooking the crystalline blue pool with its shore of diamantine sands. “Come right here immediately! That dragon and these foreign interlopers ain’t no fit and proper company!”

                      Meanwhile, Daisy the beetle was also seriously admonishing (H)Ugo the gecko for his past disappearance. Of course, it was all lost in plics and plocs of glükenitch drops in the water.

                      #4789

                      “How far is it?” Gloria was starting to complain, after the blue powder’s effects started to wane and give her a fit of anxiety mixed with intense boredom.

                      “Oh quiet!” snapped Sha, “it’s not enough we had to drag you along, don’t you start to complain. I need to concentrate.”

                      Gloria turned to Mavis quizzically. The bus took a bump in the road, and she giggled madly as if under the influence of laughing gas. “Look at her!” she said pointing at the vibrating cellulite around Sharon’s ankles.
                      “She’s got to have a brainwave, and you’ll know what next!”

                      Sharon started to shout “STOP! Now! Bus 57 express to Glasgow airport, then we Brexit to Norway!”

                      “Wot?! No bloody way! It’s going to be cold ‘ere!” Glo whined.

                      “Of bloody course it is!” Mavis giggled hysterically, drawing glances from the other seats “it’s going to be a cold beauty treatment I read all about it on the Gloogle!”

                      “The article said: a party will meet you in Bodø, Norway! It’s clear, no?”

                      “I have no idea ‘ow you managed to mouth that ø, but we better catch the blimin’ bus express; got a feeling diabolical nurse Trassie is goin’ to catches up on us trail!”

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