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  • #2686

    In reply to: Strings of Nines

    TracyTracy
    Participant

      “Fish” said Raxie when asked what she would like for her Fragmentation Day lunch. Fish synchronicities had been sprouting up all over the plaice, sturgeoning you might say, if you were wanting to include the word burgeoning, burgeoning like the gnarly old grape vines waking up and unleashing green on the chalky hills.

      “The synchronicities and connections were like individual blades of grass turning into a meadow, singing and sighing as one in the breezes,” Elizabeth replied.

      “Well this is my own personal meadow” Raxie pointed out “These are all mine”.

      “Oops”

      “Who said that?”

      “Was it that guy over there in the bowler hat and checkered past?”

      “Don’t mention checkered pasts!” Elizabeth exclaimed, “Or the Ooh Dimension! You’ll open the sluice gates….”

      “Antidisestablishmentarianism”

      “Who said that?” Elizabeth and Raxie exclaimed together.

      “I don’t know, but that guy in the bowler hat’s disappeared, and can you see that fellow starting to appear over there? Must be a multidimensional Port Hole or something…”

      “Well, we know what a Froopish and fabulously magical place this is, so it stands to reason…”

      “Reason?” Raxie and Elizabeth were reduced to giggles at the very idea of reason having any standing.

      “A portal to the Froop dimension, here? Wow! Can I see?”

      “You’ll have to wear these goggles. And it will require some stamina, are you sure?”

      “Of course I’m bloody sure” replied Elizabeth tartly. And then she began to intuit something.

      “I don’t need googles*, silly!” she laughed. “I already AM multidimensional, I don’t need anyone elses googles. But it’s ok if you want to wear the googles” she added, not wishing to sound judgemental.

      “Actually, I like this amethyst crystal myself, I like the frequency. I have dreams of amethyst sometimes, they are a delight.”

      “Come and look at this sunset if you want to see a delight,” said Raxie, who was still a bit miffed about the goggles. “Who needs another dimension when we’ve got this one?”

      Elizabeth sighed with speechless awe at the spectacular sunset, a reflection of all her colours, and all her dear ones colours, all blended together with magic aqua and sparks of blue and tones of orange blossom.

      #2439

      Mother Blubbit unlike her progeny wasn’t actually blue.

      She had a more pinkish rosy tint that turned red around the ears, and probably should have been called a Rosbit —a deranged thought that crossed young Peackle’s head (still on the mantelpiece in Penelope’s pristinely clean house) as he was gasping before the sizable, yet furry, and giant, roasted blubbit saddle his aching stomach was making him see instead of the now puzzled creature.

      #2438

      AAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!
      Screamed the furry ball without notice in what seemed to the Mother Blubbit’s lonely ear the most piercing sound she’d ever heard.
      She was startled and threw that furry ball far away in another tunnel, the one leading to the lava chamber. Something in her inner alchemy had been altered with her moment of panic, one of the baby blubbit would be different for sure.
      That’s when she realized she had visitors.

      #2670

      In reply to: Strings of Nines

      TracyTracy
      Participant

        Finn, what on earth is Yurick on about? Wasn’t was? Well, was it or wasn’t it!

        #2669

        In reply to: Strings of Nines

        Yurick had to laugh when his dear friend Finn told him “welcome back”, not that he didn’t like to be back, or Finn’s lovely comment of course. But rather because Finn being back herself at a time he wasn’t, was a most delightful irony he couldn’t miss. Unlike Finn (whom he had missed in the past, he felt obliged to add, in a manner to dissipate any misunderstanding).

        #2435

        Who are you calling dreary, you rude tart?” asked Lavender. “It’s YOU that’s never around when I am.”
        :yahoo_wasntme:

        #2434

        “These old ezines and blogs are fascinating” remarked Periwinkle, passing the one she had just been reading to Daffodil. “Thank goodness some folks had the foresight to print some of them!” :news:

        “I know, imagine if they hadn’t. We’d have no artefacts for the collection. Well, we have all those flat discs, but no way to decipher them. Oh, did I tell you? Bignonia found something even older than the discs!” :search:

        “NO!” exclaimed Periwinkle “Do tell!” :yahoo_surprise:

        “Yes, even older! Funny looking contraption, with two reels and a ribbon. An information storage device, so they say, although they haven’t discovered how to decipher it.” :yahoo_nerd:

        “I wonder why we’re still not simply accessing that information without, well, without messing around with the physical contraption, you know?” :yahoo_idk:

        “Wouldn’t be any point in being here in the first place, if we weren’t going to mess around with physical things, silly” replied Daffodil. :yahoo_doh:

        There was no answer to that, so Periwikle didn’t answer. She continued to thumb through the printed pages. :news:

        Periwinkle and Daffodil sat together on the patio in the warm spring sunshine, sipping lemonade :fruit_lemon:
        and leafing through the papers. Bright white clouds in cartoon shapes romped across the blue sky, :weather-few-clouds:
        and the birds chattered in the trees, :magpie: :magpie:
        occasionally landing on the printed pages and cocking their heads sideways to read for a moment, before flying off to tell their friends, which was usually followed by a raucous group cackling. :yahoo_heehee: :yahoo_heehee: :yahoo_heehee:

        “Dear Goofenoff” read Daffodil, “This one looks interesting Peri, someone here is asking for advice on a problem.” :help:

        “What’s a “problem”, Daffy?” asked Periwinkle. “For that matter, what does the word “advice” mean? Oh, never mind” she said as she noticed Daffodil rolling her eyes, “I’ll look it up in my pre shift dictionary of defunct words.” :notepad:

        “She’s asking the Snoot too, about the same problem. Oh, I think I’ve heard of them! It’s coming back to me, the old Snoot’n‘Goof team, they were quite famous in the beginning of the century, I remember hearing about them before in a Shift History discussion.” :cluebox:

        “Well, I can’t say I’ve ever heard of them, but then, I’ve never been into history like you, dear. So what is this “problem” all about, then?” :yahoo_daydreaming:

        “I’ll read it out to you, it’s way too convoluted to put in a nutshell. Lordy, they sure did complicate matters back then, it’s almost unbeleivable, really, but anyway, here goes:

        Dear Goofenoff,

        I don’t know what to do! I am confused about which probable version of a blog freind, let’s call him MrZ, I have chosen to align with. The first probable version was ok, nothing to worry about, and then I drew into my awareness the probable versions of MrZ that some of my freinds had chosen to align with….”

        “Blimey”, interrupted Periwinkle, who was starting to fidget. “Is it much longer?” :yahoo_not_listening:

        “It’s alot longer, so be patient. Where was I? Oh yes: :yahoo_nerd:

        “….and while that was very interesting indeed, and led to lots of usefully emotionally heated discussions, I started to align with their probable version, at times, although not consistently, which led to some confusion. So then I had a chat with someone who was more in alignment with my original probable version, although there were aspects of that probable version that were a little in alignment with the other folks probable version, notwithstanding. I suppose I was still in alignment with the other folks probable version when it came to my attention that there was another individual that might be aligning with a probable version, and my question is, in a nutshell, is it any of my business which probable version the new individual on the scene is aligning with?” :yahoo_thinking:

        “Well, I can tell you the answer to that!” exclaimed Periwinkle. :yahoo_smug:

        Daffodil rolled her eyes. “Yes, dear, WE know the answer, but the point is, SHE didn’t know the answer at the time, which is why she asked Goofenoff.” :yahoo_straight_face:

        “If you ask me, she knew the answer all along” Periwinkle intuited. “What did Goofenoff say anyway?” :yahoo_eyelashes:

        “He said:

        Are you requiring a short or a long answer?” :yahoo_raised_eyebrow:

        Daffodil turned the page to continue reading. She frowned, and flicked through a few pages.

        “What a shame, some of these pages appear to be missing! Now we’ll never know what Goofenoff said.” :yahoo_skull:

        Periwinkle laughed. “Well, never mind that anyway, have you seen the random story quote today? Rather synchronistic I’d say, listen to this bit: :paperclip:

        Illi felt much better, and was sitting at the breakfast table, basking in the warm shafts of sunlight filtering in through the window, and listening to the birds singing in the lemon tree outside.”
        :weather-clear: :magpie: :fruit_lemon: :weather-few-clouds:

        #2433

        Ann felt rather put out.

        “How jolly rude to disappear like that.” she muttered

        The truth was she had been feeling a tad out of sorts lately, plodding along, day in and day out, doing the same old things. She was finding Lavender rather dreary too, partly because she never seemed to be there when Ann called round. So the idea of helping the exotic, headless stranger with his mysterious request for “pea sauce” assistance had felt rather exciting. Ann loved nothing better than a good adventure.

        And now the bugger had disappeared!

        #2427

        :bounce: :weather-clear: :weather-few-cl:weather-showers-scattered:ouds: :weather-clear:

        #2426

        “Finally the answer we need! Let’s release the damn bird and get back home now! Besides its cage needs cleaning and it’s starting to smell, and I can’t stand this place any longer…” Doily couldn’t be stopped.

        Foolishly getting by that that Doily had understood most and perhaps all of the Cloud’s mysterious riddle, and that she even had managed to remember it, by a chance even slimmer than that of crossing the Eight’s Portal alive, Pee agreed with a nod of his neck.

        Once the birds’ released (with a good manly slapping as the feathery creature was a bit reluctant and groggy from being rocked in its cage), they were instantaneously and quite unsurprisingly back again near the Saucerer’s house, all safe in their beloved Peasland, ravaged by blubbits holes.

        #2425

        The Cloud then spoke in a cloudy but clear (with slight chance of rain) tone:

        “For Blubbits to get rid of
        Master the art of Balance you need
        But on your Head is the trick
        Like Oolong is to a Tea”

        #2078

        In reply to: Scrying the Word Cloud

        TracyTracy
        Participant

          fun summer somewhat hand free random wish heard whispered seen yurick alone life hear suppose raucous

          :yahoo_devil:

          “surprise others!”

          :yahoo_skull:

          “cave heads suddenly body!”

          :yahoo_party:

          “sudden self popped!”“ come words, following wondered told often; replied:

          :yahoo_chatterbox: :yahoo_waiting: :yahoo_ttth: :yahoo_not_listening: :yahoo_big_hug: :yahoo_dontwannasee:

          ~ “thinking thank fingers!” ~

          certainly thread moment, perhaps lovely away…..
          :creating_magic:

          #2665

          In reply to: Strings of Nines

          TracyTracy
          Participant

            They were thick as theives, freinds for thousands of centuries, or even more; sometimes thick, sometimes theives, and anything else you might imagine. They got together again and again in this time and that, here, there and elsewhere, just for the fun of it. There was nothing they liked more than a puzzling occurance, or a riddle, or a basket full of clues to ponder over, unravel, and turn around and around, toying with meanings until they found one they liked. They had a home in The City, sort of a home base so to speak, where they met regularly each night in the dream state, regardless of which time or place they spent their waking hours. It was sometimes a releif to meet up at home in The City and always a pleasure: sometimes it was hard to stay under the radar back down on the ground, it was part of the job to stand out in the crowd, which often resulted in a lynching, or a ducking, or the stocks, at the very least. All too often it ended up on top of a bonfire, tied to a stake.

            One day in one of the Decembers, in amongst all the sweet dreams they often shared, they started having some unsettling group dreams, where they all felt like they were betwixt and between, falling through the cracks you might say. It was a feeling similar to dying of thirst, although it wasn’t really a physical thirst, it was more than that, a hungry yearning sort of thing. Some of them had strange nightmares, of a monstrous beast, and some of them actually saw beasts in the daytime too, especially on those falling through the cracks days. When they met up at home in The City, they compared notes about the beasts, and not always, but sometimes they found they were mirroring each others beasts. That often ended up in a heated debate, because the more mirroring that occurred, the more real the beast seemed. Some said that the beasts that appeared when you fell through the cracks were in a deep ravine, in a manner of speaking, and not of this plane at all. Others argued that if the beasts appeared through the cracks, then they were on this plane.

            And so it went on, and on. There were many more puzzling occurances to come, and lots of meanings to be considered, rejected, or taken on board for the friends, as thick as thieves, to turn around and around, and hold up to the mirror for closer inspection and dissection. They were making a tapestry, a huge rich colourful tapestry, and all the puzzling occurences, and even the beasts, were depicted in the colourful threads and patterns. They were the warp, you might say, of the weave. Love was the weft.

            “Congratulations, Liz” Godfrey remarked drily. “Are you supposed to use three months worth of creative writing challenges in one entry?”

            “Don’t be silly, Godfrey, of course not. Rules are meant to be broken, that’s what they’re for.”

            #2664

            In reply to: Strings of Nines

            “Have you noticed?” Yurick asked Yann
            “What?”
            “You didn’t notice!… that we moved near the Robespierre road?”
            “Yeah, and what?”
            “Robespierre,… that one must have been a secret Peaslander too; after all, didn’t he end up losing his head like the rest of ‘em?”

            #2421

            Phurt was vaguely aware to have been alive in different times, and in different surrounding. The memories kept coming at the oddest and less practical of all times, like this one when she’d jumped through the talking glass. They were nevertheless precise and vivid enough to be more than just strikes of fancy. Besides, she was but all a fancy spider.

            The last one she remembered (and the ten previous ones before it) was being admonished and crushed (literally) by the words (and the one uttering them) “you and your kind are not welcome here!” Actually, if you wanted to be precise, the previous to last time, she’d been drowned in the pipes —but still, she could hear the fateful “you and your kin… gurgle gurgle.”

            She didn’t know for certain when and where she’d vowed to gain dominion over these Crushing Others, and all her failed attempts and these strange karmic glimpses that had her reincarnated over and over certainly did help, if so slightly, to get closer to this goal.

            Now she needed a nice dark and clean place (yeah hence the stupid tub of last which proved to be clean enough, but barely dark for long enough) to spin a nice thin web and gather enough food for her dear little ones.

            #2420

            “There is one man to whom I am indebted,” said Shar, with a faraway look in her eyes.

            “Blimey, who’s that then Shar?”

            “Enric Lemoon is his name. One day he said words to me I will never forget, and at that moment, I knew that the most important thing in the world was that I learn to speak like him.”

            “Oh you do tell a good story, Shar. Go on then! I am all goggle eared. What’d that Enric chappy say to you?”

            “He said, the grumpy old cat must be white of old age by now.

            “Cor!” said Mavis in awe. “Bloody marvelous! Was it a code? You know, one of them brain teasers like?”

            Shar looked at Mavis pityingly and shook her head. “It was poetry, Mavis. Poetry.”

            #2661

            In reply to: Strings of Nines

            F LoveF Love
            Participant

              “You will always be my endearingly ugly baby, Yikesy,” said Arona sternly, “however old you are. Why it was not even a year ago that you were eleven, according to that weirdo dragon anyway. And now here you are all grown up telling me you are eighteen. It doesn’t matter to me one way or another, my precious boy.”

              Arona sniffled emotionally.

              “Now keep hold of my hand while we go and see if we can find Vincentius. I hope he has that grumpy old cat with him.”

              #2075

              In reply to: Scrying the Word Cloud

              TracyTracy
              Participant

                Although done,
                Stranger, mother, everyone, creature
                looks attention:
                Girl, perfect black.
                Ask, perhaps himself free?
                Smile rude.
                Notice Leormn Fellowship Idea,
                “Eye write”
                Box teleport.
                Heard wonder, let Sharon replied.
                Random asked matter:
                Strange sudden (usually inside) particular finally… surely feeling sound, following home… clear…

                Realized, somewhat
                Hear happy laugh
                Mention hot ones
                Magic voice
                :creating_magic:

                #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:

                Viewing 20 results - 2,081 through 2,100 (of 3,170 total)