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  • Two students of the Free the Fiction Writer Within evening course were whispering in a corridor of the Academy before it began. — Did you hear about prof. Moose? — Yes, you mean what happened with Pedro last night? They turned their head at the same time to look at Pedro, another student who arrived recently in ... · ID #2276 (continued)
    (next in 07h 18min…)

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  • #4035

    “Bird poo is good for your hair,” said Tina scathingly, once again reading Quentin’s thoughts. “When these little ones hatch… “ She trailed off, not feeling the need to elaborate further.

    :fleuron2:

    Meanwhile in another part of town (or possibly in another dimension … it is not clear to the writer at this point but the writer is determined to carry on regardless — the editorial staff can clean it up later), Miss Bossy Pants managed to crawl her way out of bed, just long enough to send an urgent message:

    Can’t possibly write today. One of you will need to do my contribution for the story. Thanks.

    She contemplated adding a smile emoticon but feeling such a strong urge to punch it in the face decided that it was extraneous.

    #4032
    TracyTracy
    Participant

      “I don’t know, I just feel that connecting with each other is part of the fun,” mumbled Ricardo Prout.

      “We have to start somewhere!” retorted Connie in exasperation. “Do some research! Find some connecting links!”

      “One should never underestimate the behind the scenes idea prompts,” remarked Hilda, somewhat cryptically. “Relax, Ric. And for heavens sake buck up a bit! Why don’t you take the rest of the day off, you’re distracting me from my work, as instructed by miss bossy behind the scenes pants.”

      “But I don’t get what the others are writing, if I want to join, the safest is do my own stuff,” said Ricardo sadly. “And I thought this job was a fun team job.”

      Connie and Hilda rolled their eyes in unison. “He’s a newbie, he’ll get the hang of it,” whispered Hilda.

      #4030
      TracyTracy
      Participant

        “It’s not very comfortable” admitted Godfrey.

        “I’m toying with the idea of introducing it as a new trend in the other thread.”

        “I say, Liz, that’s just cruel! Making all the male characters waddle around wearing codpieces, and not be able to scratch and fumble with the actual cod?”

        “On second thoughts,” replied Liz, “Maybe I won’t. I dread to think where this is leading.”

        #4027
        TracyTracy
        Participant

          In the fashion section of Rim of the Realm, Connie “Continuity” Brown was weaving the latest reports together.
          An unsavoury trend was gaining momentum in the meat factories to increase productivity: workers were wearing nappies to save wasting time visiting the lavatory.

          The trend was spreading to banks and offices, where high heels and codpieces were required, causing a spate of unusual injuries and accidents, especially since the equality laws came into force, requiring both men and women to wear both high heels and codpieces ~ and nappies, due to the removal of time wasting unproductive lavatories worldwide.

          #119

          A tiny dot of red light was peeking through the horizon line. It grew and grew until it became clear to Quentin that he would be rolled over by a giant wheel of gouda. Luckily, his cat-like reflexes allowed him to dodge that dreadful fate, and become the first showcased resident of the local newsreel of bits of odd news.

          #4019
          F LoveF Love
          Participant

            “Well … go on then … what is this plan?” asked Nobody with interest, being the only one who heard Liz mumbling rudely.

            #4018
            TracyTracy
            Participant

              “Hasn’t Finnley woken up yet?” inquired Liz politely, but nobody heard her. They were all asleep. “Bloody time zone renegades.” She looked around the room at the snoring dribbling disheveled team. A plan to rouse them started forming in her mind.

              #4022

              Final nail in the coffin, indeed.

              Despite the overwhelmnity of the situation, Ed couldn’t fathom why nobody would take some time to stop and ponder on the incoherences, the gaps in the net, so to speak.

              It behooved him to do so. The deranged cackler, like a mockery of the divine breath, ruling over the bizarro earth he had been sworn to protect — it had to be stopped.

              But where was the elusive cackler hiding, he would seemed to appear anywhere and everywhere. And what to make of those cases of mistaken identities, or all the althreadnarrative-realities jumping. The occurrences were piling up. He couldn’t even seem to count on assembling his old fierce Surge Team. All gone bizarro too.

              Pouring over his copious notes, he remembered how it all started. The strange case of Baked Bean Bea.
              She seemed to have breached through, and quite frankly shattered in all likelihood some old reality limitation, and somehow, she now was able to unwittingly shape the world to new strange alternate realities at her every whims.

              He painfully tried to recall, what he was, who he had been in the course of the last months. Blaze, his old genius inventor friend had left him some device, a transfocal whatever thingy. Usually it would change shapes as well, reconfigure itself with each realities. But its function was more or less the same. Reconnect him to his previous alternate realities. Which was handy, when you couldn’t even trust the notes you took. Obviously Bea wasn’t Baked Bean Bea before… or was she?

              Now the Transfocal Thingy seemed to have relocated in the bathroom. The shower head with the wires seemed a bit of a giveaway.
              Ed put on the water.

              #4013

              In reply to: Mandala of Ascensions

              Edward Cayper had been absorbed on the mesmerizing display of the large monitoring screens. He’d liked to believe it was a meditation of sorts. The simulation made the most tantalizing displays, ever changing.

              Although there had been flitches. Increasingly. He called them flitches, scratchy flea-like glitches, all small and jumpy, but he had an eye for them. He was, after all, one of the early designers of the Program. REYE – Reality Emergence Yielding Existence. That didn’t mean much, but sounded cool at the time.
              REYE was in its eighth stable upgrade. Despite the flitches, it had evolved at exponential speed.

              Edward swiveled from his chair to look behind his desk. A series of pods was lined up with sensory deprivation tanks hosting hundreds of plugged-in bodies dreaming in synch with his creation.
              He’d been told they were volunteers to participate in the largest mind control experiment in the world. He wasn’t sure it wasn’t a lie, but didn’t care so much.
              REYE was in charge of coordinating the whole program with astronomical and minute precision. Each person linked to the program believed they had become ascended (or something similarly close to their metaphysical belief). Free of the bonding of space, time and corporal existence, they were taught into a very subtle and complex system of attunement to higher truths. A large basket of bollocks of course, but while they were doing it, and deeply believing it to be real, the mind-energy they produced was redirected to certain mind control experiments.

              Since they started in the 80s, the program had had slow progress. In the beginning, only a few sprouts of channellers appeared near their area, in Nevada. They were quite timid at first, full of doubts about their hearing or seeing voices – still better than the abductions of earlier, when many went completely nuts. But now, progresses were made steadily, and with much less effort. Edward personally believed that the network of waves created by cellphone proliferation had a factor in this trend. Such interconnexion made everything easier.

              Within the program, the flitchy Ascended Masters still had to be reconditioned from time to time. On the vitals of Jane Pierce (a.a.a. “also avatared as” Dispersee within the program), Edward could see there were occasional resistance and stress, which in turn made the glitches more frequent. A change in her drugs dosage would do fine to level the serotonin in her bloodstream. It would be that, or unplugging her.

              Before leaving the room, like every day, Edward switched the monitor to the camera over one of the pods. Florence Vengard (a.a.a. Floverley), was dreaming peacefully, as usual. Since she’d arrived, he’d felt connected to her. He imagined her with long curly red hair floating in the milk bath instead of the bath-cap that made the maintenance so much easier. He was told she had overdosed on pills, and wouldn’t wake up. The program seemed to be tethering her to life, frozen in time.

              A well-oiled machine.
              If you overlooked the small things… that REYE was becoming more inquisitive, and Edward suspected, greedy too. He had seen subtle gaps in the mind-energy gauges, it couldn’t be a coincidence. The program was becoming too smart, maybe too human.

              It couldn’t bode well.

              #4010

              In reply to: Mandala of Ascensions

              Dispersee couldn’t stop thinking about the carbonite, feeling that there must be more to it than just a master tricksters method to slim down the graduate class. She wasn’t even all that surprised when, within moments of research, she had chanced upon the Villa Poppacea in Italy, although it wasn’t the carbonized apple that interested her.

              Some of her students were studying their Roman connections, assuming not altogether wrongly that the explorations would assist their ascension process. It appeared that one of the individuals that had come to their attention, Lucius Crassius, had owned the neighbouring villa.

              #4009
              TracyTracy
              Participant

                As Prune spoke the magic words releasing her aunt from marbledom, an unforeseen chain reaction of uncrusting began. One by one the concrete statues and animals that Idle had been collecting became more yielding, less rigid. They didn’t all start gallivanting around at once, it was a slow process depending on the length of time they had been solid.

                The buddha by the fish pond had had his knees bent for so long it would be some time before he could straighten them, but it was with great joy that he raised a hand from his lap to scratch the fly droppings off the tip of his nose. He was just about to make a remark about foolish idle people and wise diligent ones when it occurred to him that he’d been completely idle for quite some time, and that it hadn’t been his fault. The unaccustomed questioning of his rather rigid beliefs accelerated the uncrusting process, and he was able to turn his head to see the odd looking cat approaching, but unable to move his arm quickly enough to stop it spraying him with piss.

                You have no idea how long I’ve been holding that, said the cat, somewhat telepathically.

                A loud gravelly sounding laugh echoed across the pond, coming from the direction of the green man plaque on the wall. The unfamiliar cackle drew Clove out from the kitchen to see who it was.

                “I have so much to say!” the green man cleared his throat, spitting out some moss that had become stuck between his teeth, “And I’ve waited so long to say it! You there, you! Don’t go away!” The green man immediately realized his predicament. He had a face but no body. He would have to wait until an audience came to him to listen.

                But Clove was interested and inched closer. She had just been researching Dionysus for a project; what a fortuitous coincidence that a replica of him had come to life. She would be able to interview him for her report. She’d just read that “It is perhaps an indication of the Green Man’s power as an archetype that he was able to transfer so seamlessly from one culture and one set of beliefs to another.”

                This was exactly the angle she was after.

                #4006

                In reply to: Mandala of Ascensions

                Balzac had flunked again. He was sure of it.
                Geography test this time. The test was tricky, like every time Medlik had made sure of it, that old uptight Master.
                Actually, why it was called geography was up to anybody’s guess. There wasn’t anything to prepare the test, they’d been notified at the last minute.
                And every tool could be used. In short, cheating was allowed, but he’d figured out soon enough, pretty useless.
                They were given a news extract, talking about a carbonite deposit found in the earth’s crust that would solve all of humanity’s woes about clean air and clean water.
                The test question was basically. What do you make of it?

                #4004

                In reply to: Scrying the Word Cloud

                ÉricÉric
                Keymaster

                  self dust heart once silly rat leader
                  missed dream robot intelligence
                  bending listen house thought
                  jar mean secret liked full clean

                  #4003

                  “You rang, madam?” asked the butler, adjusting his oversized blue turban.

                  “Ah, Lazuli! How are you settling in?” asked Liz.

                  “I’ve only just been written into this thread, madam, moments ago. Do I have to call you madam?”

                  “Only when you want to be rude, according to Finnley,” Liz said, glancing fondly at the unconscious cleaner.

                  “This thread appears to be going nowhere, madam,” Lazuli remarked thoughtfully.

                  “I can write Fanella into it if you like,” Liz quickly tried to entice him to stay.

                  Lazuli Galore’s eyes lit up. “Did somebody mention something about sexing the story up a bit?” he asked hopefully. “We’d be the perfect characters for that.”

                  “Well, if its ok with Finnley, it’s ok with me. If you can wake her, we can ask her now.”

                  #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”.

                    #3993

                    In reply to: Scrying the Word Cloud

                    TracyTracy
                    Participant

                      stop, wanted lady!
                      year surely forgotten
                      simulation supposed voice keep secret mars love
                      masters managed usually
                      certainly eye start must top

                      #3992

                      In reply to: Scrying the Word Cloud

                      TracyTracy
                      Participant

                        heart looking hope
                        sometimes stories getting asked free
                        home somehow
                        face sight religious
                        managed catch smile
                        tried aliens
                        barely

                        #3991

                        “There was one other thing, Your Majesty…”

                        “Finnley, what on earth is the matter with you?” Interrupted Liz.

                        “Well, that’s what I’m trying to tell you. I’m going to a party in another story tonight, it’s Funley’s leaving do over on the Cakltown thread. It’s a fancy dress party. The theme is Hierarchy, and I’m practicing groveling.”

                        “But it’s not your night off! You can’t go!”

                        But it was too late. Finnley had already thread jumped.

                        She’ll never be any good at groveling, that one. Far too big for her boots, sniffed Liz.

                        #3990

                        But he was not speechless for long.

                        “Or was he?” asked an irritating voice from seemingly nowhere.

                        Because as luck would have it, Funley the cleaner popped her head in the door to see if the bin needed emptying and overheard Evangeline’s ill-timed and thoughtless words.

                        Snooty tart and what a bloody mess there will be to clean up tonight after the party.

                        “Don’t worry, Mr Steam, I will untangle this tangled web of threads for you! And I can mop your sweaty brow,” she added sarcastically, rolling her eyes at Evangeline.

                        #3985
                        TracyTracy
                        Participant

                          “There’s a visitor in the drawing room by the name of Bubbles, your highness,” Finnley said with a mock curtsy.

                          “What on earth are you doing down there, Finnley, pretending to be a red dwarf again? Do act you age and get up at once! Now then, never mind old Bubbles, just make sure she has plenty of carrot champagne and peanuts while she waits. There is something we need to discuss.” Liz was uncharacteristically businesslike. “Something has gone horribly wrong and it will only get worse if we don’t nip it in the bud.”

                          “Oh?”

                          “This,” said Liz with a grand sweep of her arm, “This is my haven. This thread is sacrosanct. This is where the stories come from. This is not,” she glared sternly at the diminutive personage before her, “Not where the stories come TO. I’ve just about had enough of stories and other threads knocking on my door and sitting on my threadbare sofas quaffing carrot champagne at the expense of the tranquility I require in which to direct my characters.”

                          “I see. Shall I tell her to bugger off then?”

                          “I haven’t finished my diatribe!”

                          “Oh, right ho then. Carry on.”

                          “How am I supposed to keep the characters entertained and productive, not to mention in their own stories and not blundering about haphazardly, with all these interruptions?”

                          “If I may be so bold as to interrupt Madam,” interrupted Finnley with another curtsy, “Why don’t you just delete them all?”

                          “Don’t be silly, I never delete.”

                        Viewing 20 results - 1,361 through 1,380 (of 3,195 total)

                        Daily Random Quote

                        • Two students of the Free the Fiction Writer Within evening course were whispering in a corridor of the Academy before it began. — Did you hear about prof. Moose? — Yes, you mean what happened with Pedro last night? They turned their head at the same time to look at Pedro, another student who arrived recently in ... · ID #2276 (continued)
                          (next in 07h 18min…)

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