Search Results for 'ed steam'

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  • #2908
    F LoveF Love
    Participant

      Sir Ed Steam admired his reflection in the mirror for a few minutes. It was such a pity to have to cut off his beautiful waxed moustache, especially as it was such a hit with the ladies, however, if his plan was to succeed, he needed to be able to pass unrecognised. Still, it really was a dreadful shame . . .

      “The key to a good moustache wax is being firm yet yielding, stiff yet malleable with staying power,” he mused out loud. Sir Ed made his own moustache wax out of beeswax and petroleum jelly. His was a connoisseur’s moustache requiring maximum grooming and a whole lot of wax.

      #2906
      Jib
      Participant

        Sir Ed Steam looked at his last acquisition, Henri Butter’s Marauder Map. Its reach was currently limited to the saucerers’ school perimeter but he had already thought of several means to extend it.
        At this very moment, his old friend Lulla was on her way to Pohnpei and would soon meet with the man he needed. She didn’t know she was about to meet him, but it really mattered not. All he needed was the events to be triggered and all would go according to his plan, like a domino trail.

        #2901
        F LoveF Love
        Participant

          “Excuse me, are you listening to me?” Lady Em Dash had been telling her old friend, Sir Hyphen, about her latest adventurous escapade at the Mondaytorium, and was rather perturbed to see the Sir Hyphen was not listening with the attention she would have expected.

          “Oh, I do apologise, Em—I am a little distracted. I received an interesting communication the other day—an email— and . . . well, I really can’t make any sense of it at all. It is rather on my mind, I’m afraid.”

          “Really? Would you like to tell me about it?”

          “I am starting to wonder if it is some sort of code.”

          “Sounds fascinating!”

          Sir Hyphen grinned apologetically. “I know it sounds strange, and I am really not sure it is the mystery I am making it out to be. It is just that . . . well it is from my old friend Lord Lemon . . . I have not heard from him for years, and, out of the blue, I received this rather strange email. He is usually so wise, so erudite, so profound even, that it disturbed me rather.”

          Lady Dash nodded. “Emails are so old fashioned, aren’t they. What did it say to perplex you so, my friend?”

          Sir Hyphen, not being one to speak in haste, considered the question for a long moment while Lady Dash, who did most things in rather a rush, tried her best to be patient.

          “That’s the problem really—it is more just that it felt a bit . . . and it makes reference to Sir Ed in several places, which is, of course, disturbing in itself. You do remember Sir Ed don’t you . . . Sir Ed Steam?

          Lady Dash blushed and rolled her eyes.

          “Yes, I thought you would. Anyway, the rest of it is . . . most of it really . . . is just . . . gobblydeegook, for want of a better word. Which is why I began to wonder if it might be some sort of code. Here, let me read you some of it:

          Deep within the Furcano, the Mother of the Blubbits was growling. Her belly actually. She’d spent days and days, like every good blubbit alien mother, spawning a furry and ungrateful progeny like every good blubbit alien mother, spawning a furry and ungrateful progeny, a reproduction of the future, much less messy and incommodious to just write new characters into a story than giving birth . . . “

          #2894
          TracyTracy
          Participant

            Mari Fe’s neighbour, Rogelio, called round with a bag of oranges, jogging her memory about the three kings parade plan. Rogelio was playing the part of Baltazar in the parade, but he was going to be kidnapped and substituted with the real Baltazar from the past. The real Baltazar was to lure Ed Steam into the portal, with some assistance from the surge team, and take him back to Tartessos.

            #2893
            ÉricÉric
            Keymaster

              Dru Hammond’s flight was being delayed at Charles de Gaulle airport.
              Not the most brilliant idea to fly with Air Frange for this mission, he thought…
              He held from well informed source that airports days were counted, and that airports would soon become deserted museums – in truth, teleportation tech was being developed and soon would be mainstreamed by Ganga, the mammoth merger of Amazoom and Koogle companies.
              That was why he tried to enjoy this vintage means of transportation as much as he could now, and collected plane tickets from all possible flight companies from around the world.
              Dru was an auditor from Passadena, working for the Team, or actually for Ed Steam, the boss himself. His mission was usually to discretely assess the Team’s strengths and shortcomings. However, in this case, he was sent to Malaga for the Three Kings’ Parade, and there was a catch to his assignment. But he wasn’t at liberty to think too much about it. Ed had means to read minds, and thinking too much wouldn’t do him any good. So instead he tried to focus on something innocuous, like fluffy white rabbits dancing in a snow field.
              The security check was taking forever. After an unending stream of Italian tourists, there was a Frenchman stuck into the security gate with a folded drying rack that he was trying to bargain his right to carry it into the plane with lots of ample movements, while the gatekeeper was stubbornly nodding his head.
              Dru after some initial irritation started to find the whole barter amusing. His flight wasn’t boarding before four more hours, so he had time.
              He suddenly wasn’t as much amused when, after relenting and letting the security guy take the rack back to be sent in the cargo hold, the French guy accidentally let his suitcase drop and burst open, revealing a clunky mess of things among which: a heavy black hammer, a humongous book as large as the suitcase itself, crockery, tin canned foods and lots of multicoloured clothes pegs.
              All his auditor’s instincts were crying at him right now that without the shadow of a doubt this man was a dangerous terrorist, hiding under an innocent awkward guise. Sighing of relief when he overheard he was going to Shanghai instead of his European destination, he wondered what terrorists would do in a world of easy free teleportation…

              #2892
              TracyTracy
              Participant

                Mari Fe looked out of the window for the 57th time that morning. They should have been here by now, where the devil are they? It wasn’t like Bee to be late. I’ll give it another hour and then I’ll have to call Skye and see if she knows what’s happened. But Mari Fe was reluctant to speak to Skye in case Skye asked her to elaborate on the three kings parade plan for Ed Steam. The fact of the matter was that Mari Fe had completely forgotten what the plan was.

                Jib
                Participant

                  The Surge Team

                  ~ The 13 Chicks of Roast ~ aka TCoR or T-Core

                  1. Cornella, from Ullapool, posted to Long Poon
                  2. Pearl, USA, North Carolina
                  3. Mari Fe, Spain
                  4. Skye, London
                  5. Katarina, Ukrain
                  6. Vera, from NZ, posted to Tahiti or pacific islands
                  7. Kiki, Swaziland
                  8. Björk, Iceland
                  9. Janet Mendyourhall, from LV, Nevada, posted to the West Coast
                  10. Lulla, Brasil
                  11. Madam Li, Harbin, China
                  12. Anita Charmpatti, India
                  13. unknown yet, current location Middle East

                  ~ Cleaning ladies ~

                  Aqua Luna in Long Poon

                  ~ Other characters ~

                  Ed Steam, the big boss (aprox. 6’7’‘)
                  The Management aka Man-T-Core

                  #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.

                    #2886
                    ÉricÉric
                    Keymaster

                      If there was one thing he’d never liked about the Surge Team, Goat was reminded as soon as he crossed the threshold, that had to be the Management.
                      Actually, the Management after years of past grandeur had been heftily trimmed down to just one person, an ageless expressionless Sinese-Bulgarian lady with a hairstyle as plain and ubiquitous as a bowl of steamed rice, the epitome of the chtonian tutelary deity, eternal Guardian of all thresholds.
                      “Good day Antonia.” Goat greeted her, faking the slightest bit of enthusiasm needed to sound polite. Of course, she didn’t answer. Like the Universe, looming and all powerful, all she needed was a request, or better, a long string of numbers from an obscure postal or bookshelf reference.
                      Chopping official documents, the lonely sound of a stamp etching the worn-out surface of her desk was all that troubled the dusty office reeking of onion.
                      “There’s been a delivery for me…” He waited patiently, savouring torturing her with his half-finished sentence. He didn’t have to wait for long though. Maybe she was in a good mood.
                      “Tracking number?” she grumbled without looking at him, fumbling into old logs and piles of carton boxes that may have been there, unclaimed since the time of Baltazar the Great.
                      “There” he handed her a torn yellow stained bit of paper where the numbers were written down in a ornate penmanship. The Management was a place of few words… and even fewer actions he bitterly thought.
                      Working her magic, she handed him the package, wrapped in old Sinese papers that smelt of decaying fish. He barely thanked her, without looking into her eyes, for he knew what was there to be read certainly had no lack of unpleasantness for him.

                      #2878
                      TracyTracy
                      Participant

                        “The surge diversion is going well here, Pearl, for the moment. The energy has been channeled into street protests and the vibrations are being changed by an awful lot of banging on saucepans with spoons, somewhat noisy admittedly, but we’re a noisy lot here, and it’s going well. They’ve even adopted the word Tides to describe the surge diversion, and it’s alot more fun on the streets than some other surges I could mention.”

                        “No need to snort like that, Mari Fe” said Pearl. “We’ve just had word from the remote viewing team, and Ed Steam is in your neck of the woods, and one of your surges must be diverted to take him out.”

                        “The Three Kings Procession in a few days time might be an opportunity, leave it with me Pearl, I’ll see what I can do. I’d already planned to follow the Three Kings back home after the parade to ancient Tartessos, I’ve been collaberating with the time travel teleport portal people. Did you know that the Pope admitted that the Three Kings were from Andalucia? That was a result of the Occupy The Vatican Library Out of Body team. Anyway, maybe we can send Ed Steam back with them. He won’t be able to cause much trouble from thousands of years ago.”

                        Mari Fe, if you’re planning to go back to Tartessos too, you won’t be much help here, will you?”

                        “Ahhhh!” replied Mari Fe with a cryptic smile. “You wait and see what I bring back with me!”

                        “Well as long as it’s not Ed Steam, that’s all. Leave him there!”

                        #2877
                        TracyTracy
                        Participant

                          “But Pearl” asked young Frank Lee Wright, “You’re asking the impossible! How can we divert and diffuse the surges at the same time as kidnapping Ed Steam? Surely the energy projection required would be too contradictory?”

                          “Ahhhh!” replied Pearl with a wise looking eyebrow wiggle. “This is a clue already, did you notice that sign that just flashed up saying “draft saved at 4:44”? Never forget all is in alignment, and we have non physical friends on the case.”

                          “But Pearl” replied Frankie, “How is that of any practical use?”

                          “Ahhhh! You will be amazed at the simplicity of my plan, young man. We will divert a surge in the direction of Ed Steam. Ed Steams own impetus will be his downfall. Think Aikido!”

                          #2876
                          TracyTracy
                          Participant

                            It was important to cure the cold quickly, because the lady from North Carolina had work to do. Ed Steam was getting too big for his boots, and his policies threatened to disrupt the vital surge work. Pearl Rider wiped her nose and shoved the tissue back in her pocket and sent urgent telepathic messages to her associates. Another surge tide had landed, a white tide of snow, which was expected to herald a surge southwards of the other dimensional aurora colours. The population had been on edge for some time, seeing doom and malevolent forces of outside control in just about anything and everything, so a sudden strong surge of the aurora was expected to create even further alarm.

                            #2812

                            In reply to: Snowflakes of Tens

                            TracyTracy
                            Participant

                              The entrances to Faerie (and indeed to other alternate realities and dimensions) had been shrouded in disbelief for several centuries, but times were changing and the fog of scepticism was dissipating, evaporating like river mist on a hot summer morning. Looking for the entrances deliberately, Blithe found, wasn’t the most efficacious method. Sat Nav alone would be unlikely to reveal them, unless the locating device was used in conjunction with impulse and intuition. Any device and method could be used effectively when combined with random impulse, even Google Earth or Google Moon. Blithe’s friend and colleage Dealea Flare was making good use of this device on her travels, using it as a personal non physical airline and space shuttle service. Dealea could get from A to B and back again in no time at all, or even from A to well beyond Z and back again in no time at all using this device in conjunction with impulse and large dose of intention and focus. Blithe had the impulse down pat but still had difficulty with the focus, which was largely a case of having too many intentions at once, most of them somewhat vague.

                              The more random and impulsive Blithe was, the better her investigations went, often leading her into a new and exciting exploration which may or may not be linked to the current intention. Such was the case when she went on a mundane shopping trip to the Rock of Gibber. As she sat sipping coffee at the Counterpart Cabana sidewalk cafe listening to the locals conversing in Gibberish, she noticed the extraordinary tangle of pipework on the building opposite. It reminded her of the steampunk world she had been investigating in her spare time. The text book steampunk world was intriguing to say the least, but rather grim, and tediously full of victims and fear. The inhabitants always seemed to be running away from someone. The steampunk world she was beginning to sense in Gibber was quite different in that it was a sunny cheerful alternate reality held together with a vast labyrinthine network of water pipes, scaffold, and connecting cables.

                              Blithe paid for her coffee and strolled off, noticing more and more scaffolding and tangles of pipes as she climbed the warren of narrow winding streets. The air was different the higher she climbed up the winding uneven steps, the sunlight was sharper and the shadows denser, and there was a crackling kind of hush as if the air was shimmering. Cables festooned the crumbling shuttered buildings like cobwebs, and centuries of layers of crackled sun faded pastel paint coated the closed doors. Open doors revealed dark passageways and alleys with bright rectangles of light glowing in the distance, and golden dry weeds sprouted from vents and windowsills casting dancing shadows on the uneven walls.

                              The usual signs of life were strangely absent and present at the same time; an occasional voice was heard from inside one of the houses, and there were pots of flowers growing here and there, indicating that a human hand had watered them with water from the pipe network. There was no music to be heard though, or any indication that the cable network was in use, and there were virtually no people on the streets. A lady in a brilliant blue dress who was climbing the steps from Gibber Town below paused to chat, agreeing with Blithe who remarked on the peaceful beauty of the place. The lady in blue said “Si, it’s very nice, but there are many steps, so many steps. If you are coming from below there are SO many steps!”

                              There was a boy watching a white dog watching an empty space on the pavement, so Blithe stopped to watch the boy watching the dog watching nothing. Eventually Blithe inquired “What is he looking at?” and the boy shrugged and continued to watch the dog watching nothing. Blithe watched for a little while, and then wandered off. A small child was giggling from inside a doorway, and a mothers voice asked what he was laughing at. The child was looking out of the door at nothing as far as Blithe could see.

                              As the sun climbed higher, Blithe began to descend into Gibber town, winding and weaving through the alleys, wondering how she had failed to notice this place half way up the Rock until now. She came to a crumbling wall with a doorway in it that looked out over the bay beyond the town below. This must be one of the entrances, she deduced, to this alternate world in Gibber. “Entrance”! Blithe had a revelation. “I never noticed that the word ENtrance and enTRANCE are spelled the same.” Later, back at the office, Frolic Caper-Belle said she thought it was probably a very significant clue. “I’ll file that in the Clue Box, Blithe”, she said.

                              {link: entrance}

                              #2687

                              In reply to: Strings of Nines

                              :yahoo_whistling: :yahoo_whistling: :yahoo_whistling: :yahoo_whistling: :yahoo_whistling: :yahoo_whistling: :yahoo_whistling: :yahoo_whistling: :yahoo_whistling:

                              “What on earth are you doing?” asked Lilac.

                              “Whistling for aurora’s, silly” replied Nasturtium, commonly known as Nasty. “We did an energy pooling for auroras to come further south the other day, and I just heard from Petunia that they’ll come if we whistle. So I’m whistling!”

                              Lilac rolled her eyes and wandered off into the kitchen to put the kettle on. Nasturtium grinned when she heard Lilac whistling. Or was it the kettle?

                              “You know that bright aurora green?” Nasturtium said as Lilac returned with two steaming mugs of tea. “Well, my TV went that colour yesterday, green all over it was, bright green, just like the green of aurora’s.”

                              “I suppose you’ll be saying it was a personal visit from the aurora people” replied Lilac with a snort.

                              #2616

                              In reply to: Strings of Nines

                              TracyTracy
                              Participant

                                “It’s the 57th Creative Challenge theme, so I have to do it,” Ann remarked to her editor. “Obviously”, she added.

                                “What do you mean, obviously?” asked her editor (Ann had forgotten his new name in the second book, and toyed breifly with the idea of making up a new one ~ perhaps Rumbold the Pale?)

                                “Well, I would have thought that was obvious, Godfrey!” Ann replied tartly, secretly delighted that she’d remembered the old boy’s name. Notwithstanding, Ann continued to make little ‘cuh’ and ‘tut’ noises, and rolled her eyes a bit, until Godfrey eventually replied.

                                “Spiggot on the spike freak, Lingenburg Dash”.

                                “I beg your pardon?” Ann looked at Godfrey in astonishment. “Holy Moly, I said that earlier myself, whatever does it mean?”

                                “I haven’t got a clue, dear,” he replied. “Just popped into my head, you know, how it does…” His voice trailed off as he stared into space.

                                “I’ll google it.” As Ann started the search, she realized she’d completely forgotten that she was doing the 57th Creative Challenge entry. “Blimey O Riley, what am I LIKE” she said to herself, with a wry grin ~ she wasn’t altogether sure what wry meant, but somehow she felt it was wry ~ “Now what was the theme again?”

                                “Misery Loves Company” Godfrey piped up. “And dare I say, it’s rather obvious what has occurred here.”

                                “What do you mean, obvious?” retorted Ann, somewhat snarkily, although nowhere near as snarkily as Lavender might have said it.

                                Godfrey resisted the urge to respoond with a few little ‘cuh’s’ and ‘tut’s’, and chose to simply smile enigmatically.

                                Ann scowled at her old freind and said “If you don’t spell it out, you maddening old coot, I’ll write you out of this story. I’ll delete you.”

                                “You can write me out of YOUR story if you wish, but I may continue to write YOU into MY story.”

                                “Oh Gawd, WHAT?” Ann said to herself. “Where did that come from?”

                                “Ann, let me explain.”

                                “You sound just like Elias, Godfrey!”

                                “Ha! Ha! Ha!”

                                “Ahahahahahahah”

                                “Now shut up and pay attention”

                                Elias would never say that”

                                “That’s YOU saying that, Ann, to yourself,” said Godfrey.

                                YOU said that Godfrey, it’s right here in black and white!” retorted Ann.

                                “It’s never black and white, Ann, and it’s only here in black and white as ME saying it because YOU wrote it.”

                                “Well there’s no answer to that” replied Ann. She went to put the kettle on.

                                Ann returned to her computer with a steaming mug of tea.

                                “Now, shall we get back to the point, Ann?” inquired Godfrey, with a wry grin.

                                “I must look up that word later”, Ann mused. “I seem to be inordinately fond of the word wry tonight, I wonder why. I Wonder Wry…”

                                ANN!” Godfrey shouted. “Back to the point!”

                                Ann looked pained. “What point?”

                                “The point of this story, and the obvious occurence therein.”

                                “Welp, you’ve lost me there, Gordon, there was a point?”

                                “Oh My God, this could go on all night” Gordon was wringing his hands.

                                “Good God Gordon, didn’t see you come in!” exclaimed Godfrey.

                                Ann was giggling helplessly. She was rather pleased with the way she covered her faux pas over the editors name.

                                “‘Ann was giggling helplessly’; you see Ann, there is your clue!” Godfrey said excitedly, as he read aloud what Ann had just written.

                                “OH! NOW I get it! D’oh! Nonsense loves company! Giggling loves company! No wonder I couldn’t stay focused on misery!”

                                #2606

                                In reply to: Strings of Nines

                                TracyTracy
                                Participant

                                  Tuning into her other focus Becky, which was happening with an alarming increase in frequency, Yoland scribbled down a few lines of what might loosely be termed poetry.

                                  Methinks it’s time to ponder not
                                  Upon the box of black and white
                                  Methinks the time has come again
                                  To thinketh not and ponder not
                                  Upon the need to clear explain.
                                  Begone, oh wordy facts, begone!
                                  And leave me free to talk some rot
                                  And note and jot alot of snaps
                                  Of this and that, beguiling snips
                                  Of snaps and wisps, of tongues and lights;
                                  Hums and sparks of nonsense blips
                                  And plates of eggs and french fried chips.

                                  I’m running out of steam, said she

                                  Report back now, Immediately

                                  Toot! Toot!

                                  “What I really love about this, Yoland” Grace said when she’d read her friend’s poem, “Is that it really is complete rubbish. I mean, it’s not cleverly pretending to be rubbish, it really IS rubbish. But I am feeling the energy, and I feel that you enjoyed posting utter rubbish, and that’s the feeling that counts.”

                                  “Er….thanks, Grace…I think,” replied Yoland with a smirk.

                                  “You rude tart” she added.

                                  :buffoon:

                                  #2149

                                  In reply to: The Story So Far

                                  ÉricÉric
                                  Keymaster

                                    Tikfijikoo Island (continued)

                                    (synopsis)

                                    It starts with the Dr doing some evil tests on that remote island; he’s with the nurse Bellamy, whose forte is coconut tree frog-leaping, and Veranessesseesessesses with her impossible name (V’ass)
                                    We then learn the Dr is mad, and his researches are financed by an occult organization, who V’ass is working for, to check on their assets; he’s mad but brilliant.

                                    He’s a bit of a transvestite too (fullname Chris Bronklehampton)
                                    The organization has given him a machine in which there is a crystal skull, unknown to him. This crystal skull seems linked to spiders somehow and his researches on spiders genome (blue bonnet), but we only know it’s coveted by many people. It’s all happening in our dimension, roughly at our time.

                                    (Where Leo and Bea are renting Jose’s house and they are Dory’s and Dan timeframe ie: now)

                                    The first experiences give dreadful results; there is Sasha (mummified by the doctor) who’s dead, and now speaks with the Dr; and there is Claude, who gained super strength and madness, and escaped the island facility.
                                    Claude is one of those working with the Mad Baron ; he’s on a undercover mission to get the skull
                                    (The false Viscountess —lady in salmon— at the auction was also working for the baron)

                                    So Claude escapes but there is another mysterious person looking for the skull; it’s Madame Chesterhope, and she’s sent the magpies to steal it. The magpies are from another dimension, they are famous stealers.
                                    Claude encounters the magpies on their mission. He’s captured in an energy labyrinth they have set on the island temporarily, to cover their tracks.

                                    Meanwhile, Sha and Glo have arrived. Dory wanted to go but she couldn’t find the airline (bag lady)…
                                    And Mavis later explains in a comment (555) how they all got involved in that adventure. She takes some time to convince her husband, and get to go to Tikfijikoo too. During the flight correspondence, she gets to know Paquita and Joselito.

                                    On the island, the Dr is losing it seriously. He talks to the dead mummy, and had blond wig and stuff.
                                    V’ass is reacquainting herself with the Italian of her secret organization, to report on the Dr. (insert steamy sex scene :)) ) )

                                    Dory is back at Gib, with Dan and young Becky and later, her friends Yurick and Yann came to visit; go see Salitre :)
                                    She has knowledge of Leo and Bea (Fletcher) – at whose place there are skulls too.

                                    On the island, everything starts to get crazy; since Sha and Glo arrived
                                    The magpies are ready to strike as a cyclone is coming.
                                    Claude has recovered his memory and is no longer mad; but he’s still trapped and tries to find an escape in a strange tree. He goes into another dimension, the giant spiders’ one.
                                    In this dimension there are a few human survivors. There is young Anita, and her mummified parents, but still alive from a plane crash; and a stranded soldier from WWII, named “Akita”, who’s got a spirit dog with him he’d found on the spider island.
                                    They somehow managed to survive in the giant spider’s jungle (the island is on top of a sort of Bermuda triangle).

                                    Anita is in communication with our four essences, who can manifest easily in this spider dimension and our essences are aware of an dimensional gate opening (the cyclone).
                                    All this people get together and succeed in escaping through the wortex.

                                    So now, that explains the people around the campfire on Tikfijikoo. It was all relatively brief, during the storm, where the others were sheltered on the facility (thanks to V’ass who cared for the careless Sha and Glo)

                                    Sha and Glo find out the magpies trying to pry the computer open where the skull is hidden; they crush the magpies with coconuts bra slings (exit the magpies in purple blood ;)) )
                                    They find the strange crystal skull they mistakenly think is some apparatus like an UV lamp. They take it to the UV room and plug it; it starts to project all sorts of lights
                                    They want to dance, because it’s like a disco.

                                    Meanwhile, one giant spider has managed to sneak through the portal, and goes close to them, but she gets sidetracked by the lightened skull and gets shrunk to a small size… and gets crushed by Sha and Glo (they’re the heroines of the day, but they don’t know squat ;)) )

                                    There is also a honeycomb subplot with a man named Jarvis on the island, with beehives.

                                    Now: Sha and Glo are dancing, Mavis is going out attracted by the campfire, finding out the survivors (The campfire was there because it’s night, and Claude is wary of the island’s owners, because he was abducted and mummified). The Dr is mad as ever.
                                    The skull is in the UV room, but they don’t know what it is — only Madame Chesterhope and Claude are knowing (possibly Jarvis and V’ass); but Mme Chesterhope is flung into the ocean crashing into Mahiliki’s plane recently :))

                                    #953
                                    TracyTracy
                                    Participant

                                      Primary Becky woke up as the sun was sinking behind the coconut trees. The grounds of the Serendib Facility were striped with the long golden shadows of evening as Becky sat up in the wicker steamer chair, rubbing her eyes and mumbling the last few remembered words of a dream….. Luce is calling…which she promptly forgot.

                                      Never one to keep a good thing to herself, Becky had a sudden impulse to call Tina in New Venice and tell her about Serendib. She loved the name Serendib: ‘serendipity.’ Becky had fallen in love with the magical island, and wanted to share it.

                                      She had a feeling that Tina would like it here.

                                      #2023

                                      In reply to: Scrying the Word Cloud

                                      TracyTracy
                                      Participant

                                        FULL STEAM AHEAD towards THE ISLE OF fry! THE FERRY, full TO BURSTING, felt LIKE THE FUN HAD started. THINGS began GOING TO plan (following A FEW STERN looks OFF Bea ) AND THE postBOX WAS FULL. CareFULLY CHOSEN LIGHT AND dark symbolic QUESTIONS asked BY ALL, IT seems. EMO Yellow IS THIS YEARS BLACK. I googled IT. I kept GOING spaceY AMD smiled, clearLY waiting, although THIS week IS seeing CONNECTIONS multiply ON earth: let’S show THE dance WE knew AND OPEN THE door ……:yahoo_heehee:

                                        #445
                                        F LoveF Love
                                        Participant

                                          Marshmallow? asked Arona, suspiciously, taking the cup from Vincentius and sniffing the steaming brew.

                                          Isn’t that good for getting rid of furballs in cats? Oh cat! oh, where is Mandrake? Arona started to panic, it was too much for her. She looked at the funny looking sleeping child, wiped her brow dramatically and lay back down again. Give me a moment will you? This is all rather a lot to take in.

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