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  • #4189
    ÉricÉric
    Keymaster

      “You see,” Godfrey pointed out with the rolled paper “Finnley’s got a point here.”
      “And what point pray you say?” Liz’ looked outraged at the lack of encouragements.

      “Oh, I don’t know, I just said that to grab your attention for a minute.” Godfrey smiled from the corner of his mouth.

      Liz’ could not think of something to say, suddenly noticing with amazing details the tense silence, and the small gathered crowd of people looking at her in a mix of face expressions. A scene from her last hospitalisation came back to her, and the horror of trying to seem sane and not utter anything strange to those so-called experts, who were gauging her sanity like hyenas laughing around a tentfull of human snacks.

      “You have my full attention.” she heard herself say unexpectedly.

      “That’s really the first step in rehabilitation” the doctor opined with a pleased smile.

      “Did, did I relapse again?”

      “What are you talking about Liz’?” Godfrey was back looking at her with concern in his eyes. She had never noticed his eyes before. Only the furry moustaches above them.

      “I think I got lost in the story’s threads again…” Liz’ felt like a little girl being berated by the teacher again, and by her mother for not standing for herself.
      “Yeah, it’s a bit of a dumpster…” Haki said snarkily, to which Liz quickly replied mentally “go away, you’re just a character, I fired you many threads ago.”

      Liz’, you have that vacant expression again, Liz’!” Godfrey was waving at her face.
      “Stop DOING that, you old coot! What’s wrong with all of you!”

      Felicity took a reprieve from her observation post ogling the gardener’s backside, on the guise of bird-watching, and snickered “told you it wasn’t going to go anywhere.”

      “Hold on” Godfrey stopped her in a conciliatory tone. “your attitude isn’t really helping Felicity. And Liz sharing her dream recall is a good thing, honestly, we could all do with a bit of getting in touch with our magical self.”

      “Oh, I’ve had enough of this loads of bollocks” Felicity said, and she packed and left for good.

      “That was a bit abrupt ending, but I like it” opined Godfrey at second reading. “Actually like it better than the version where she jumps through the window, probably pushed by the maid she criticized about the hair in the pea soup.”

      “That’s about as magical as I can muster for now, Godfrey, give me time.” Liz smiled relieved that the mummy ordeal was behind her. “Fuck murmality” she smiled impishly, “let’s start a new fantasy thread.”

      “With dragons in it?” Godfrey’s eyes were beaming.

      “Oh, you and your damned dragons…”

      #3996
      TracyTracy
      Participant

        The following is an e-mail from the past, composed on July 01, 2010. It is being delivered from the past through FutureMe.org

        Dear FutureMe,
        The Absinthe Cafe
        Dawn and Mark had a bottle of Absinthe (the proper stuff with the WORMwood in
        it, which is illegal in France) but forgot to bring it. Wandering around at
        some point, we chanced upon a cafe called Absinthe. Sitting on the terrace, the
        waitress came up and looked right at me and said “Oh you are booked to come here
        tomorrow night!” and then said “Forget I said that”. Naturally that got our
        attention. After we left Dawn spotted a kid with 2016 on the back of his T
        shirt. We asked Arkandin about it and we have a concurrent group focus that does
        meet in that cafe in 2016, including Britta. Dawn’s name is Isabelle Spencer,
        Jib’s is Jennifer….
        The Worm & The Suitcase
        I borrowed Rachel’s big red suitcase for the trip and stuck a Time Bridgers
        sticker on it, and joked before I left about the case disappearing to 2163. I
        had an impulse to take a fig tree sapling for Eric and Jib, which did survive
        the trip although it looked a little shocked at first. As Eric was repotting
        it, we noticed a worm in the soil, and I said, Well, if the fig tree dies at
        least you have the worm.
        At Balzacs house on a bench in the garden there was a magazine lying there open
        to an ad for Spain, which said “If you lose your suitcase it would be the best
        thing because you would have to stay”.
        Later we asked Arkandin and he said that there was something from the future
        inserted into my suitcase. I went all through it wondering what it could be,
        and then a couple of days ago Eric said that it was the WORM! because of the
        WORMwood absinthe syncs, and worm hole etc. I just had a chat with Franci who
        had a big worm sync a couple of days ago, she particularly noticed a very big
        worm outside the second hand shop, and noted that she hadn’t seen a worm in ages
        ~ which is also a sync, because there was a big second hand clothes shop next to
        Dawn and Mark’s hotel that I went into looking for a bowler hat.
        Arkandin said, by the way, that Jane did forget to mention the bowler hats in
        OS7, those two guys on the balcony were indeed wearing bowler hats, and that
        they were the same guys that were in my bedroom in the dream I had prior to
        finding the Seth stuff ~ Elias and Patel.
        Eric replied:

        And another Time Bridger thing; a while ago, Jib and I had fun planting some TB stickers at random places in Paris (and some on a wooden gate at Jib’s hometown).
        Those in Paris I remember were one at the waiting room of a big tech department store, and another on the huge “Bateaux Mouches” sign on the Pont de l’Alma (bridge, the one of Lady D. where there is a gilded replica of Lady Liberty’s flame).
        I think there are pics of that on Jib’s or my flickr account somewhere.
        When we were walking past this spot, Jib suddenly remembered the TB sticker — meanwhile, the sign which was quite clean before had been written all over, and had other stickers everywhere. We wondered whether it was still here, and there it was! It’s been something like 2 years… Kind of amazing to think it’s still there, and imagine all the people that may have seen it since!
        ~~~~

        The Flights

        I wasn’t all that keen on flying and procrastinated for ages about the trip. I
        flew with EASYjet, so it was nice to see the word EASY everywhere. I got on the
        plane to find that they don’t allocate seats, and chose a seat right at the
        front on the left. The head flight attendant was extremely playful for the
        whole flight, constantly cracking up laughing and teasing the other flight
        attendants, who would poke him and make him laugh during announcements so that
        he kept having to put the phone down while he laughed. I spent the whole flight
        laughing and catching his mischeivously twinking eye.
        I asked Arkandin about him and he said his energy was superimposed. I got on
        the flight to come home and was met on the plane by the same guy! I said
        HELLO! It’s YOU again! Can I sit in the same seat and are you going to make me
        laugh again” and he actually moved the person that was in my seat and said I
        could sit there. Then he asked me about my book (about magic and Napolean). He
        also said that all his flights all week had been delayed except the two that I
        was on. He wanted to give me a card for frequent flyers but I told him I
        usually flew without planes ~ that cracked him up ;))
        ~~~

        The Dream Bean

        Eric cracked open a special big African bean that is supposed to enhance
        dreams/lucidity so we all had a bit of it. The second night I remembered a
        dream and it was a wonderful one.
        (Coincidentally, on the flight home I read a few pages of my book and it just
        happened to be about the council of five dragons and misuse of magical beans)
        In the dream I had a companion with magical powers, who I presumed was Jib but
        it was myself actually. It was a long adventure dream of being chased and
        various adventures across the countryside, but there was no stress, it was all
        great fun. Everytime things got a bit too close in the dream, I’d hold onto my
        friend with magical powers, and we would elevate above the “adventure” and drop
        down in another location out of immediate danger ~ although we were never
        outside of the adventure, so to speak. At one point I wondered why my magical
        freind didn’t just elevate us right up high and out of it completely, and
        realized that we were in the adventure game on purpose for the fun of it, so why
        would we remove ourselves completely from the adventure game.
        In the dream I remember we were heading for Holland at one point, and then the
        last part we were safely heading for Turkey…..
        The other dream snapshot was “we are all working together on roof tiles” and
        Arkandin had some interesting stuff to say about that one.
        ~~~

        There were alot of vampire imagery incidents starting with me asking Eric if he
        slept in his garden tool box at night, and then the guy who shot out of a door
        right next to Jib and Eric’s, in a bright orange T shirt, carrying a cardboard
        coffin. He stopped for me to take a photo (and Arkandin said it was a Patel pop
        in); then while walking through the outdoor food market someone was chopping a
        crate up and a perfect wooden stake flew across the floor and landed at my feet.
        The next vampire sync was a shop opposite Dawn and Mark’s hotel with 3 coffins
        in the window (I went back to take a pic of the cello actually, didn’t even
        notice the coffins). Inside the shop was an EAU DE NIL MOTOR SCOOTER Share, can
        you beleive it, and a mummy, a stuffed raven, and a row of (Tardis) Red phone
        boxes.
        I had a nightmare last night that I couldn’t find any of my (nine) dogs; the
        only ones I could find were the dead ones.
        ~~~~

        Balzac’s House

        The trip to Balzac’s house was interesting, although in somewhat unexpected
        ways. (Arkandin was Balzac and I was the cook/housekeeper) The house didn’t
        seem “right” somehow to Mark and I and we decided that was probably because
        other than the desk there was no furniture in it. Mark saw a black cat that
        nobody else saw that was an Arkandin pop in (panther essence animal), and Dawn
        felt that he was sitting on a chair, and Mark sat on him. (Arkandin said yes he
        did sit on him ;) The kitchen was being used as an office. Jib felt the house
        was too small, and picked up on a focus of his that rented the other part of the
        house. (The house was one storey high on the side we entered, and two storeys
        high from the road below). There were two pop ins there apparently, one with
        long hair which is a connection to my friend Joy who was part of that group
        focus, and I can’t recall anything about the other one. Dawn was picking up
        that Balzac wasn’t too happy, and I was remembering the part in Cousin Bette
        that infuriated me when I read it, where he goes on and on about how disgusting
        it is for servants to expect their wages when their “betters” are in dire
        straits. Arkandin confirmed that I didn’t get my wages.
        The garden was enchanting and had a couple of sphinx statues and a dead pigeon ~
        as well as the magazine with the suitcase and Spain imagery. Mark signed the
        guest book “brought the cook back” and I replied “no cooking smells this time”.

        #3923

        In reply to: Mandala of Ascensions

        Jib
        Participant

          Ascended Master John was mediwalking around the absinth lake, aka the green fairy lake, or aka oqmei oekef oekk in transluscent seal language. It was a strange lake invereflecting your own feelings. Waves as big as the pyramids in Salitre roamed the surface of the lake if your inner landscape was peaceful, and it could be flatter than the best laser cut rock if your mind had turned crazy. The trick was not to become attached to the result as focusing on making bigger waves would only make you more nervous and not have the intended effect.
          Master John decided to dive into the absinth lake. He needed some change.
          He heard a strange Chinese music as he did so. It seemed to come from under the sufrace of the lake. He looked closer and saw the wavy forms of yellow dogons (Chinese Dog Dragons) winding their way under the waves.
          Floating absinth spoons were used as surf boards by small baby monkeys. The waves seemed to lower for a moment but Master John decided not to pay too much attention and returned to his mediwalking, pushing the waves to new unseen heights before.

          #3477

          “We’re going under water, Mandrake, you’re sure you don’t need a suit?” Arona asked her cat.

          All she needed was his permission to manifest a scuba diving suit for the cat, but the cat was putting on a brave face, and refused altogether.

          “Well then, maybe you want to accompany me under a diving bell, I’m not too reassured on my on” she said with a sweet voice. Reverse psychology always worked with this one.

          In no time, they were looking at the underwater cavebed, following the directions of the sabulmantium. The dragon egg enclosing the coloured sand seemed to shield them from the strange effects of the cave, and project fleeting images around the glass bell. Derelict places full of mould and cobwebs, alien places and animals.
          Arona resisted being drawn by the images. Her years of living with dragons had taught her to navigate through illusions. That was then that she saw it.
          The graceful turtle, silently swimming in front of them, in a curved line up and down, up and down. It was big, much bigger than Mandrake, but in no hurry to get there, wherever there was.

          Arona, do you hear that?” Mandrake’s voice was distant, and the sound of alarm was faint and muffled. “Aronaaaa!”

          The impact of the rocks shattered the glass bell in millions of small pieces, that went floating like a wave of particles on the wind. Arona and Mandrake, in the big turtle’s wake were propelled through a narrow gurgling exit of the water that flushed them out of the cave into the thundering noise of a cascade.

          Struggling with the current at first, Arona managed to let go, and finally emerged with her cat held firmly by the scruff of its neck. The current sent them on the shore of the pool of crystalline blue waters. In the middle of the pool, she could see the Cup, placed on a red cushion, surrounded by the mist of the waterfall, and glowing a vivid radiant light.

          It all seems so easy… Arona was already wet, and the Cup was so close.

          “Not so feeest, milady”
          She had not seen the man emerge from the shadows of the cliffs. He was looking relatively harmless, but had a wild eye and a vagrant’s appearance.

          “Leave me alone, old man.” was all she wanted to tell him. But for someone to be here, of all places, it had to mean something, and she’d better find it out using tact and diplomacy.

          “Good day sir, may I inquire what you are doing here?”
          “Fer sure, Ey em the Fisher Count but ye can call me Reney.”
          “Mmm, I’ve heard about you. So you are real after all.”
          “Indeed Ey em, quite real, huhu.”
          DON’T!” Arona and Mandrake shouted almost at the same time… too late, as the blinking parrot reappeared, flying over them and shrieking “HU HU, FUCK FUCK, HU HU.”

          “I meant,… DON’T mind the blasted parrot, it’ll go away eventually. It must have a fleck of Sanso, I’m sure.” Arona said, matter-of-factly. “Now, what do I need to do to get to drink from the Cup, dear Sir?” she continued with the best composed smile she could.

          “Oh, et is veeely easy, vely vely easy. Ye just need to esk nicely, and as ye already did, there ye go.”

          Suspicion and doubts started to come back, as it all seemed much too easy. “What will happen when I drink from it? Will I be able to astral?”

          “Oh well, Ey don’t know fer sure, Ey think it is just a nice decoration, but if ye believe herd enough, enything es possible.”

          Mandrake,” she turned to the cat “let’s go do some astralling.”

          #3401

          The tunnel went on forever, forcing them to duck frequently and wriggle around in exiguous places. To make it worse, it wasn’t even fresh under, and the heat carried on as they went further inside. At times, Arona started to have anxiety flashes, as she was reminded of the labyrinthine tunnels of the dragons of old.

          To give herself more heart, she put her efforts in continuing exchanging niceties and other manners of rude elaborate insults with the stranger, who surprisingly was a match to boot.

          “Stop glumping, we’re almost there” he said to her, showing a final passage on a narrow ledge above crystal clear waters.

          She was too exhausted to retort something witty, but took a mental note that he deserved one more of what she had.

          When they emerged, the sun was almost set. The tunnel came out right at the rim of the floating land, and a tight network of ropeways were stretched under the tangled tentacles of the giant beanstalk, which kept the whole city and its neighbourhood afloat. More gymnastics in perspective she thought, but she was prepared for that.

          “Don’t go too close, you’ll fall to your doom…” It was the first time the stranger’s voice hinted at some fear.

          Arona smiled as elegantly as she could, despite being out of breath and red as a purpato. Lifting a limp Mandrake from the ground, she suddenly unwrapped her heavy cloak and lunged into the void below, the wind blowing in her strange mouldy wings.

          “Follow me if you dare!” she shouted to the stranger, while struggling to navigate the downward spiral like an oversized flying squirrel.

          #3400

          If the sabulmantium was to be trusted, the beanstalk was a tangle of many paths, and the main and easiest accesses down its dangling twirly greenish tentacles were all outside of the city walls, in a zone where some lords managed to rule pockets of mass beliefs and a bunch of unattractive mongrel mobsters.

          “Sounds potential adventure material” Mandrake had had the nerve to say when they’d packed.
          “No it isn’t” Arona had said.
          Then with more gusto “NO IT ISN’T” as though to convince all the sleepy tarts of the nymphouse below her rented room.

          More doubts had sunken their claws in her tender heart, and a gulp of whatever astral cup didn’t seem in hindsight a worthy deal for all her troubles. Nonetheless, she was a woman of her word, which was probably why she wasn’t of many. Too much trouble being of all of them, whatever that meant.

          “Honestly Mandrake, keeping you on track is worse than herding… dragons.”
          She would have said sheep, but she wasn’t so rude yet. Mandrake could have taken that too badly, and he would again prove useful to distract the guards of the Southern Post. That’s where she decided to go, as with all the heat, it had to be the one less guarded.

          Indeed, when she arrived, as planned, the gate was badly manned, and sleepy soldiers where reaching for the rare spots of shadow.
          She decided to make a run for it. The soldiers didn’t look very fit. She started to go, thinking about zigzagging between the air bottles littering the plaza, when she felt a tug pulling her back by the cloak, almost sending her flying off her butt.

          FUCK!” she shouted as silently as she could. “You again! I thought I told you not to follow me! Mandrake, attack! Go for the balls!”

          She was in a fury, but Mandrake licked his paw with a disgusted look on his face that meant “Hnhn, not going for that, sweetie. You’re on you own to herd that dragon, my lovely pooh.”

          “Shhht!” the guy said with a bit smile.
          “Don’t shush me, you… ninnyhammer!”
          She didn’t know where the last word came from, but they sure felt good, although not quite rude enough.
          “Oh, the lady is a pirate who knows her insults.” he answered with his cocky smile.
          “Don’t mock me, you mooncalf”
          “You were trying to sneak out, were you?”
          “Why do you care, hobbledehoy?”
          “The guards have aircon chain-mail and armours, see, look at those bottles on their backs… How could you beat them running with your heavy cloak?”
          “Maybe Mr Snollygoster has a better suggestion?”
          “Of course I have, if you care to follow me, Ms Mumpsimus.”

          Arona was almost speechless. Not keen on following any stranger, she asked her guts, and they seemed to have a liking for the handsome fellow. It stirred old remembrance of going with the flow tactics, and when she did actually follow him, it had absolutely nothing to do with the fact that he and Mandrake were already ahead in one of the alleys.

          “Oh, no, let him have the keys to some secret tunnel, I won’t go for another sewer escape!”
          As if her guardien angel has heard her secret prayer, it happened that the stranger had some strange stone key in his bag, opening a secret wall entrance.

          “Oh.” was all she conceded to the stranger.
          Nonplussed he offered her his hand “George” he presented himself still with the same broad smile.
          She took his hand haughtily, and entered the vaulted tunnel, not telling him yet her name, in case she felt like choosing a sexy and mysterious code name. She could trust no one…

          “Traitor” she hissed at Mandrake who was purringly looking at the strangers’ boots.

          #3370

          She was stroking the black cat who was complained loudly at the unwanted massage, when the messenger arrived at her door.

          “The King’s Chamberlain would like a word… in private” was all the footman had said.

          “Doesn’t look a slight bit suspicious to you?” the cat told her, shaking and licking the human scent off its fur.
          “Of course it does, don’t come if you don’t want to.” She replied smugly, wrapping her cloak around her despite the sizzling sun and the humidity.

          She followed the messenger, wondering what required such discretion.

          “A weighty matter indeed,” Downson said to her when she arrived at the rendezvous point under a vaulted passageway at a point where the sounds were cancelled out and voices could share deepest secrets in all discretion. “The P’hope has spies in many places… And at least I know of him, so he is not even the most dangerous one, I fear…”

          She was not of many words. Seeing that, the Chamberlain’s continued.
          “There are forces at play that conspire against the King’s rule.”
          She couldn’t help but raise an eyebrow.
          “I know what you think, people should be self-governed, but you can see it another way, people’s leaders are also the expression of their beliefs. But never mind the philosophy… You are uniquely talented for a rescue mission.”
          “What do you mean?”
          “You know have powerful allies… tools,… and dragons too, if the tales are true…”
          She tittered softly. The tales were true, all of it except about the dragons being powerful allies for some rescue quest. Dragons were lazy dreamers, or at least the ones she used to know. She replied with magnanimity “Let’s assume I’m the person you need for this mission… What is my compensation for it… And don’t serve me platitudes about the travel being all that matters. That grumpy cat needs to eat.”
          The cat suddenly turned his eyes into the cutest kitty eyes he could do. It would have melted the heart of the most stone-hearted villain in an instant.
          Well played, Mandrake she winked at the cat telepathically.

          “Well, word has it that you are on a quest to astral, and maybe I could help with that.”
          “Continue…”
          “I could arrange an interview with the Fisher Count. As an entrusted Guardian of the Saint Amber Graastral Stone Cup, he could grant you a drink from it.”
          “Tell me more about whomever I’m supposed to rescue?”

          At the sound of footsteps, he stopped, and pushed her towards a column out of sight.

          “Oh, it’s only a cat” the soldier said, continuing his round unaware of the two.

          As soon as the other had left, Downson resumed his talk in hurried tone and quicker sentences.
          “I have good reasons to believe a young girl with great desire to prove herself was sent many years ago to the Fog Abyss as a rite of passage, but she was tricked and left for dead there. The magi who were supposed to protect her only said they had lost her. But something else happened. Last night, one of them came to me full of guilt. He was visited in a dream by an apparition of the young girl and her guardian angel. Something horrible had happened, but she told him she forgave him and that she was alive and well. You need to bring her back to us, and be discrete about it. Somebody wanted her dead and buried, and will stop at nothing to complete the task if they find out she’s alive.”

          Before the Chamberlain left, he turned back and told her:
          “Better be quick to leave, I shall have all that you require prepared for you. And a word of advise… you can trust no one, Arona.”

          #2997

          After a few months travelling from Spain to France in their quest for the dragons, with already two visa applications for China rejected, endless unkind mocking laughs or condescending looks from strangers, and having had to pawn temporarily the sabulmantium to buy Vincentius a shirt, Arona and her motley family were thinking it was time for a turn of fate.

          It didn’t take them too long hopefully.
          Of course, the sabulmantium was recovered as soon as they had realized it was actually more lucrative in this dimension to have Vincentius take off his shirt in shady bars at night for a few meals and lodging, and some little extras. Mandrake had been kind to provide ample squeaking mice supplements, which Arona had politely declined, for which Mandrake faked each time the saddest of disappointments. All in all, so far their life on the roads had been easier than she would have thought.
          Of course, they’d lost Sanso a few times as he couldn’t stay at one place for too long, and keeping track of his movements was near impossible. So they relied on trust that he would always find his way, which surprisingly enough, he did every single time.

          He had been the one to provide them with the way to the island actually. One day, after weeks without news, he’d reappeared, hammering at the door of their little room at the top of their 9 storey hotel in Paris, near the St Honoré Market Place. He was wearing the quaintest bright violet velvet surplice, and was carrying a bottle of glowing green liquor.

          To settle in a lovely island of the Ocean they called Pacific… It didn’t take too much convincing: Paris was starting to get boring, and far too cold. Arona missed the moist glowing warmth of Leormn’s cave, that was so good for her skin. She didn’t miss the riddles though.

          The entry point of the tunnel was inside the catacombs, and they’d almost got lost a few times, she could have sworn, although Sanso was ever confident they were on track, even when a few dead-ends were staring at him in the face with toothless skulls grins. But after a few hours, the tunnel actually broadened, and glowed a lovely shade of orange.

          It was funny, traveling through the Earth’s crust, made her almost feel at home. If all the dragons of this realm had left, and were hidden somewhere, she was certain it had to be to such a place. It gave her hopes again to meet one in this strange land which had forgotten magic.

          #2902
          Jib
          Participant

            Madam Li was gorgeous in her red silk chinese dress. She might be the eldest of the Team, but she appeared to be one of the youngest. She was proud of her Chinese ancestry. The two golden dragons on her dress emphasized her silhouette and her hair artistically arranged like an empress.

            She had just received the invitation to the Tartessos’ 3 King’s parade. Eventhough she didn’t much like travelling, it might be an occasion to go somewhere warmer. It was snowing again in Shanghai and she had been sent there to investigate this strange occurance in that part of the country. Not that it was really strange to her, she had been raised in Harbin, and its ice festival. But having cars half burried in snow in Shanghai was not a normal sight.

            At the moment, she was staying at an over-heated serviced apartment near the Pearl Tower of Shanghai. One of the perks of being part of the Team. Ed had always offered them a good salary and an apartment provided with the job, and they could use the red fleet whenever the wanted.

            When she had tried to open the window, and didn’t succeeded, the night sight from her window gave her chills. Reminding her that she so loved this city. All the lights, blinking in and out, creating organized or random patterns at every corner. The city had changed so much these last years.

            Madam Li put the invitation on the table, she would think of it later and checked with the red fleet to book a flight as soon as she had found out about all that snow in Shanghai.

            #2888
            Jib
            Participant

              Aqua Luna was was mopping the floor of the Surge Team’s HQ. She was not strictly speaking a member of the Team, and the only sponge insigna she had was her mop and the few sponges she used to clean the keyboards and the screens of “the deck” as they called their room full of computers and screens and blinking red and blue lights.

              She’s been here for ages, since Lord Ed Steam had founded the organisation actually. People didn’t usually pay attention to her and she could go everywhere. Almost. There was a room where she couldn’t go and she didn’t know what was in there. Only the higher ranked members could penetrate this secret room. She tried several times to cast a glance just before they closed the door, but there always was some bloody smoke coming out of the room.

              Her mama had told her many times, ‘Aqua Luna, there is no smoke without fire’. There must be a huge fire inside that room for it’s always smokey.

              The door opened again, but she was too far and she only could see the fumes again. ‘Could that be a dragon ?’, she thought. But what use could the surge team have of a dragon. Aqua Luna knew for sure that dragons were real. Her Mama had told her so when she was a kid, and she trusted her Mama, even when she was shouting at her. ‘It’s for your own good Aqua Luna”.

              This time it was that young woman, Cornella who went out. She seemed concerned and she was talking in her unicomp.

              #2757

              In reply to: Tales of Tw’Elves

              ÉricÉric
              Keymaster

                The holes and cracks had awoken ancient creatures from the fabled hollow worlds of myths…
                Dragons 🐛, sand worms, giant spiders, :spider: T-rexes and some said even mummies… :mummy: 😱
                In fact, the cruise ship’s demise in Adryattic was mostly due to a kraken-on-crack attack.

                #2693

                In reply to: Strings of Nines

                ÉricÉric
                Keymaster

                  Mandrake had been on Yikes’ trail for what seemed to be like ages, closely followed by Arona, the silly dragon and that demigod Arona seemed to have grown so fond of.

                  As they were walking, flying and hopping further North, they had passed the Forest of Endless Desolation, just through the Isthmus of Ghört’s Hammer where the whaling laments of the lamanatees were luring the careless travellers in pits of dark despair, only for them to sink in cores of boiling lava if they strayed too far away from the darken wizened old sticks that once had been luxuriant trees.

                  Mandrake would have made a meal of the dreaded lamanatees, but Arona had thought safer for them to plug their ears with candle wax and invoke their Mother guidance to help in their quest to find the lost boy. Little had she thought of the pain it would be to scrap it off his catly ears without turning wax into furballs, and his ears into a prickly mess.
                  These minor troubles apart, they had gone through Arona’s homeland, the pretty Golfindely, which was only a soft consolation before they got to the far ends of it, where land, water and ice meld and become one. It was the threshold, the passageway to the homeland of the dragons, where only Sorcerers and their likes were known to have been and returned.

                  It was there that the sabulmantium had hinted Yikes would been found.

                  :fleuron:

                  When Minky came finally back to the High Priestess of the Pendulous and Loose Otherworldly Threading —aka Messmeerah (Winky) Maymhe—, Messmeerah was taking a dip into the Rejuvenation Pool. Her last vials of bleufrüsh blood had been all drunk, and she was starting to get all sagging after mere hours out of the icy waters.

                  She welcomed with a large smile, the sack Minky was carrying as a treasure, where Yikes was calmly waiting.
                  “Thank you Miny” she said, throwing some ashes to the minion who, in a puff, instantaneously transformed into a large redhair rat, which disappeared behind Messmee’s luscious green hair.

                  “There, there, there, look what we got…” she finally said ominously to the boy who was considering the naked green evil fairy in front of him with a rather interested and mildly amused glance. “Don’t you have anything to say?” she said, raising an eyebrow, maybe slightly disappointed at the lack of frightened reaction.

                  “Oh, looks like you’re a genuine green fairy, “ he said staring at her with a smile.

                  #2658

                  In reply to: Strings of Nines

                  Messmeerah (Winky) Maymhe, High Priestess of the Pendulous and Loose Otherworldly Threading, was going for a bath into the Pool of Rejuvenation. Her ineffable beauty had started to show the early signs of time tampering —signs she’d learnt to notice as soon as they’d appear. Luckily, the moons were in perfect alignment for the rituals of Spring Beautusk*.

                  News were good, very good indeed —which would certainly help in maintaining her perfect brow and forehead in pristine smoothness.
                  News were so good that she’d sent her minion Minky fetch the boy just right after her white crow Saggin had came back with news of finding him… after all those years (not that years did matter to her anyway, she prided herself on that).

                  It’d been close to an eternity, and she weighted her words… (in actuality it was a few teens and futile years at most) that she’d been trying to recover the boy, but the dwarfs had played her, and had managed to hide him from her sight.
                  She had not thought he could be concealed by anyone powerful enough, and it was surely not by the magic of that headless Malvina and her pesky dragons. In fact, the boy had been concealed even after Malvina and her menagerie had left the boy and his caretaker. She was thinking the caretaker in question had a concealment charm far more powerful she thought could exist.

                  But Minky would surely take care of that.

                  • It should be said that one of the effects of the rituals of Spring Beautusk were a slight stiffness of the overall face (and other dipped body parts), which earnt Messmeerah the cute and albeit ironic sobriquet of Winky, as she hardly managed to blink and was often victim of bouts of winking when she tried too hard.
                  #2073

                  In reply to: Scrying the Word Cloud

                  TracyTracy
                  Participant

                    “Green years help often book!”
                    Elizabeth hand surprise.
                    Head Sanso: “Let dragons…..”
                    Finnley: “Dory fishes quickly!”
                    nothing answer…..
                    notice appeared remembered spiders,
                    speaking raucous Dolores:
                    “Stranger bird gift,
                    looks deep matter!”
                    “Write”, supposed young Phenol, whether himself less knows inside.
                    Monica bloody apparently, probable cow”.

                    :yahoo_cow:

                    #2065

                    In reply to: Scrying the Word Cloud

                    TracyTracy
                    Participant

                      Eyes previous threads ~

                      Nobody!

                      Finnley free rather real string writing;
                      Strings tell attempt;
                      Lack experience.

                      Dragons, whatever…

                      Stop!

                      Wondered…
                      Attention certainly taking,
                      Mused write somewhat ~
                      Seem face thinking…
                      Taken, wrote silly, shouted dancing!
                      Enjoyed!
                      Exclaimed comments ~
                      Voice life thread!

                      #2062

                      In reply to: Scrying the Word Cloud

                      ÉricÉric
                      Keymaster

                        Morning cat work meaning Tina assignment
                        dragons taking news planet beautiful start
                        wondered away harvey truth yourself
                        communications large full surprise

                        links random needed fishes please
                        remarked friend forgotten story
                        seem tree message gone
                        stay under create body
                        weaving somehow answer remember

                        #2641

                        In reply to: Strings of Nines

                        ÉricÉric
                        Keymaster

                          Peackle Handlebut wasn’t really that old hag of a lady she projected the appearance of, but she preferred to test the sincerity of people through this rather crude means.

                          In fact, she wasn’t a lady or a human at all. She was an E’elim, as they called their race when they had use for words. Their true form wasn’t really physical, and their existence was mostly ignored — a fact that was not a small feat, for even the ancient race of the Guardians mostly didn’t know of them at the time when they were in the system of Alienor.

                          In fact, their consciousness was quite different from the rest of the races, and in many ways, it was one of the most ancient one, having been present for countless ages.
                          They’d known the times of the appearance of the third moon around Duane.
                          They had even witnessed the emergence of that third planet, which is now mostly forgotten, but was then called B’si before it was called Phreal by the Guardians.
                          And they were there at the time of the separation of the Great Panye into the twin planets now known as Duane and Murtuane.

                          The E’elims where riders of the elements; usually only one of the six elements from which everything stemmed: airs, earths, woods, flames, waters, and forgotten (or spirit).
                          Learning to ride dragons was something new for Peackle, as they were powerful blends of the purest forms of these elements, and she was wanting to take the risk of revealing herself to have that experience…

                          #2637

                          In reply to: Strings of Nines

                          After five years of training of the dragon twins, Irtak was to do for the first time an act that would finally make him not just a dragon rider, but a dragon breeder in his own right. He had to part ways with them.

                          It was harder than he’d expected. He knew that if he wanted to bring more dragons into the great stream of the Duane’s life, he couldn’t only focus on the two buoyant twins. It’d taken them that long to manage channeling the intense energy of the two, and balancing their thirst of discovery with patience and adequacy of action.
                          Parting now was almost heart-breaking for him, even though the dragons had been reassuring they were only longing for new adventures with new companionship.

                          In fact, they were so longing that they would have almost gone with any stranger, or perhaps even just on their own —reluctant as they were to admit they also greatly enjoyed human’s company. However, Irtak wanted to make sure they would be taken care of by not just anybody; as powerful as dragons were, the two were almost innocent and very young for that race, and they would greatly benefit from some wise tutelage.

                          Now that Malvina had left the cave, he didn’t know who to turn to for advice, and was feeling a bit forlorn, though his glubolin was still working fine. He’d been thinking about it for quite some time, and realized that some travel would really do him good, so he finally began packing.
                          The Southern Shores of Lan’ork would make a great destination to find a proper owner for the twins, and an interesting starting point for new adventures.

                          #2763
                          TracyTracy
                          Participant

                            #1198
                            Al was visibly deranged finding Becky scantily clad. Well, wait for him to shave, he smiled. Becky might eat some nuts, wondering why she had not thought of that in the first place. Becky had always been reluctant, or perhaps just forgetful.

                            A clap made her moan in a silky voice, she felt energy crawl underneath her sabulmantium. It was Man, a distinctive pack of magic. What an impossible florid and baroque little marmoset playing a mouth harp.

                            Arona felt like beating dragons. She almost stopped in anticipation of a pile of conic shaped dirty sand, soil from the cave, the dragons doing. They are disagreeable kind of creature, made her dizzy.

                            The dragons had disappeared. Arona snapped to no one in particular, you will see how easy it is to come back if you feel so inclined.

                            At her touch, the dragon started to enclose a circle of sand, a curvy symbol.

                            The interior of the cave was out of focus, in all its splendor…

                            Fuck the babbled excuses, her own sloppy children wearing a potatoes sack. Sure Gabriele had noticed that nurse Bellamy in my room. Professional women made silky rope disappear.

                            Sure, more security, she had to be more careful about Barbella Bee-hive. I don’t like that Barbella. Perhaps it’s the kinky wrists tying games…

                            #2635

                            In reply to: Strings of Nines

                            While Irtak was learning how to deal bit with his first eggs, Leörmn was looking at other dimensions’ drama, on a tellubolin (a variety of glubolin).

                            He wasn’t unsympathetic to Irtak’s challenge in trying to bond with two buoyant twin dragons. It was, by all accounts, not easy a task, as dragon twins weren’t always keen on allowing a third energy into their games, and the dragonry arts usually insisted that the lineage of the dragons were to be spread as much as possible.

                            But Leörmn was very encouraging of Irtak, and didn’t want to deprive him of the gift of his accomplishment by making things easier. For he was sure it would only be a matter of time before the three were inseparable.

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