Search Results for 'enjoy'

Forums Search Search Results for 'enjoy'

Viewing 20 results - 181 through 200 (of 278 total)
  • Author
    Search Results
  • #1318

    In reply to: Tales of Tw’Elves

    benjaminbenjamin
    Participant

      Tal turned on the invisible-izer, and smiled as he enjoyed the idea that his spaceship would never be noticed by any human or animal alike.

      He exited the ship, walked a few paces and then suddenly halted in his tracks.

      Directly in front of him was no other than a large sink hole.

      What the Kraken? he thought. There must have been some major Earth changes since his interstellar space traveling. Good thing he didn’t land a few feet to the north.

      Tal clicked a small button on his nifty zinger-space-belt, which enabled the detection of any Earth anomalies.

      The gauge was reading off the charts!

      #2743

      In reply to: Strings of Nines

      TracyTracy
      Participant

        Minky was looking smug. “Enjoying the ride?” :pirate:

        #2479
        F LoveF Love
        Participant

          Eggwoot, rather bored by the meeting of the heads, rolled outside to enjoy a sneaky peagarette. He was startled to see a group of alien bodies in the distance making strange contortions.

          “Are they dancing?” he wondered, intrigued.

          #2072

          In reply to: Scrying the Word Cloud

          TracyTracy
          Participant

            manner: half remember
            feeling: leo mean knows write dark
            meaning: waiting sudden ones teleport arona soon
            create enjoyed: smiled poor silly pee thank large
            remarked: choose beautiful wish
            details: alien

            :yahoo_alien:

            #2071

            In reply to: Scrying the Word Cloud

            TracyTracy
            Participant

              speaking… taking….
              thread front enjoyed alone,
              magic fun inside.
              Notes clear.
              Becky days ~ continuous years,
              Beautiful, fine sort able
              Walter White!

              :bounce:

              #2651

              In reply to: Strings of Nines

              While Malvina had been enjoying the fishy delicacies of Olliburthon, she had gathered again a sense of purpose.
              “Not quite yet, but working on it…” she snapped at Leörmn, who was always quick to point out what wasn’t quite actualized. “You see, it is merely a matter of concentrating and soon it’ll be. Anyway, the fish is good here; look at those divinely prepared dishes! Leo would have loved them.”

              Leörmn wasn’t very concerned by the seeming (he almost thought “seaming” in another probability) lack of direction of late errands, as he was well aware they all served a purpose. Oh, he knew that very well indeed, so very well… — but bugger if he could explain what said purpose was. Of course he, like any dragon of his age, could have easily said, if the proper motivation, question or else had prompted him to investigate further. But in its own nature, a dragon wasn’t inquisitive. He was accepting, for all that is before him, is all that is.

              So when the idea germinated inside Malvina’s head, he already knew it would lead to a manifestation of some form, sooner or later.
              So how could he have been surprised when she told him.

              “You could at least play a little surprised!” she said “Doesn’t it sound fun and exciting to have our own Temple of Flove?”
              “I hope it won’t smell too much of fish, or you may repel your patients…”
              “Don’t be silly, we can’t be doing that here, you know that much better than I do!”
              Leörmn cracked a smile, knowing indeed very well where this would all lead.
              “And I will have a lovely white embroidered gown to officiate” Malvina was unstoppable “with pearls and shiny moonstones…”
              “Oh, of course, and rubies for the boobies” Leörmn couldn’t really remain serious.
              “That’s an idea!” Malvina was so enthralled she wasn’t really paying attention. Tomorrow she would bid farewell to Kalliona’s lovely company and Olliburthon charming gastronomy, and set her new journey’s destination to the Land of her ancestors, near the Great Lake of Umphillax, where her journey started, long before she even met her sisters.

              “Tally-oh!” Leörmn cheered, loving the way magic could make packing and unpacking so easy.

              #2789
              TracyTracy
              Participant

                Dory was enjoying the mysterious warm tribe, smelling pleasantly of chance and fate.

                #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!

                  #2781
                  ÉricÉric
                  Keymaster

                    #10

                    Arona got imperiously brave, or stupid, and moved slowly out into the light.

                    Holy Arona found herself always flattered at the reaction.

                    “I heard the music, and enjoyed the distraction. If this riddle will allow to listen” at last a box with no corn or a gold tree inside?

                    she leapt up on the eggs too, all morning eggs had been coming to her hungry right now, but maybe Dory was her animals in her life. She had a quite funny thing Fiona noticed. She had a box of Angel cards, and had the music card guide herself, beautiful music …

                    #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.

                    #2770
                    TracyTracy
                    Participant

                      Her thinking promised life to those trying something different and now such a thing was possible. There was an atrocious dry mixture of plants to ingest which grew in the cemeteries of the Wise Ones, mixed with an herb from her father, Captain of the Tentacles. Very respected, he had a radiating power.

                      :yahoo_good_luck: :yahoo_good_luck: :yahoo_good_luck: :yahoo_good_luck:

                      Dory had enjoyed a young wanderer, no need to beat her for that. Becky was very exciting and she barely knew where to start. One that had attracted her was Aratta, before she got stuck to a cushion. She was barely able to move, Dan had to calm her down.

                      I’m awfully embarrassed, but I’m stuck!

                      :yahoo_blushing:

                      Oh dear! It’s natural, after all you decided to dance with what was coming….

                      :yahoo_smug:

                      #2335

                      Ann had been enjoying her ravioli a la cuatro quesos up until she got to the heck~noodle vomit part.

                      #2328

                      Ann spent the morning (or a mere half hour, if truth be told) enjoying her physicality in the gentle autumn morning sun before returning indoors. The drop in temperature was still new enough to remember to appreciate fully. She felt at peace with her world, a happy balance of words and sunbeams, that is until she perused the latest additions to the BA (Bash Ann, by the looks of things) group project.

                      Ann frowned. Who the heck was Harvey? It was almost the last straw, despite Ann’s sunny mood. The very idea of trawling back through the paperwork to find out who he was, and indeed who everyone else was, was too daunting. “If it’s not fun don’t do it!” That’s what they all said. Over and over again they said “if it’s not fun don’t do it”.

                      The writing was fun, and the random reading was fun, but it wasn’t fun ~ in fact, it gave her a headache ~ to try and remember who and when and where everyone was. Perplexed, Ann wondered if she simply wasn’t cut out for working in a group. On the other hand, she simply wasn’t a loner either.

                      “Be remebering,” the disembodied voice whispered in her left ear, “That they are all YOU.”

                      Oh! Right, yes….herm….well where does that leave me?

                      “Right at the centre of it all, as always,” the voice replied.

                      Er, so it’s all MY story, then? The whole thing is all me, all mine? All the characters are ME?

                      “Quite!”

                      So I can do whatever I want, then?

                      “Of course!”

                      Right then, so I can write whatever I want, which is fun, and not write what I don’t want, which isn’t fun, and that will be quite alright, will it?

                      “Correct!” the voice chuckled indulgently. “And it may behoove you” it continued in a conspiratorial tone, “To remember than any flak from the others in the group, is in fact, YOU giving YOURSELF a flakking reflection.”

                      Oh. Well Right Ho, then. Toot! Toot!

                      #2308

                      Harvey had enjoyed tremendously the underwater experience with the air bubble blowing dolphins and orcas

                      #2302
                      Jib
                      Participant

                        Yann had been working on a transcription all the afternoon, only accompanied by some mysterious musicians using pneumatic drills not so far outside.

                        Though he had managed to make it flow quite easily most of the time, the attention and the tension required to make it possible were now getting on his nerves… he had one more pass through the audio to do. He was wanting to do it now in order to get it over, but he realized he was pushing his energy…

                        A weird thought… he would enjoy diving into a pond full of little fishes that would massage his skin.

                        ;)) he chuckled thinking of that, imagining that the fishes were some kind of imagery of his energy field.

                        #2275
                        TracyTracy
                        Participant

                          Ann Aspect had started the evening course “Free the Fiction Writer Within” without much hope, but much to her surprise, she loved it. She enjoyed it so much that on impulse she quit her day job at the Frozen Flounder Company and signed up at the Fiction Writers Academy as a full time immature student.

                          After a few weeks of juggling the struggling to look after the children and cook for her husband, keep the house clean, and all the other things a busy wife and mother does, as well as her assignments, Ann decided that it would be much more fun to stay in the students accomodation. She left them a note on the kitchen table saying simply “Have Fun Dears, I’m off!” and left, taking nothing with her but the clothes she was wearing (and the red wig). She called in at the cash point machine on the way to the Academy and withdrew as much money as it would allow her, and then threw her bank card in the gutter. Free! A clean slate, a new life!

                          :bounce:

                          #2634

                          In reply to: Strings of Nines

                          F LoveF Love
                          Participant

                            A toast to Ann! agreed Godfrey raising his glass.

                            Anyway Ann, how are you enjoying Noo Zooland? It is obviously doing wonders for your continuity. Gordon smiled sincerely and appreciatively at Ann.

                            #2627

                            In reply to: Strings of Nines

                            TracyTracy
                            Participant

                              The word flounder popped into Yolands head, and for want of the inspiration to do anything meaningful, or even useful, she googled flounder. She was astonished to find so many varieties of flounder, and recognized that she was counterparting with quite a number of them.

                              :fish:

                              There was the Crosseyed flounder that she felt an affinity for, at the end of an evening of trying to sort out her photos; Alcock’s narrow-body righteye flounder, which was what she felt like in a bed full of male dogs every night, and she could relate to the Antarctic armless flounder when she couldn’t keep track of the Antarctic thread. Barfin flounder reminded her of the green icon and her friend Finn; Bigmouth flounder ~ Yoland sighed, she definitely felt a connection to that often enough. Blotched flounder, well that sounded a bit like botched ~ there were many occasions when Yoland felt that everything she did was botched, half done and messy. Chain-mail wide-eyed flounder when she dabbled a bit in past lives, and the Disc flounder when she got her music in a muddle. The Dark flounders were the worst, when everything seemed to take on the tone of a horror movie, but they were often followed by a Deep flounder, which sometimes contained a few insights, more often than not promptly forgotten.

                              :fish:

                              Yoland sighed. Imagine counterparting with just about every flounder known to man! She decided she wasn’t the only one counterparting the European flounder, which was a releif, nor was she the only one counterparting the Fantail flounder, although at least it could be said that she wasn’t a complete fan of anyone in particular, dead or alive, she was a fantail of quite a number. There were long spells of resonating with the Finless flounder; Finn was always disappearing, or so it seemed to Yoland. Very rarely she felt an alignment with God’s flounder, thankfuly she wasn’t often prone to dwelling on God things.

                              :fish:

                              Ah, the Gray flounder, yes she’d had a bit of a flounder when Gray sent all those photos of the Beltane Dance, she’d had a flounder for sure in amongst all those. Looking back though, she’d had fun with the mummy and Ella Tindale in the Gulf flounder…

                              :fish:

                              Yoland had to laugh when she came across the Intermediate flounder. Yoland wondered if the majority of her foundering was counterparting with the Intermediate flounder and decided she was probably too intermediate to work it out objectively anyway. She often had a tussle with the Large tooth flounder, lordy, she was always floundering with dental issues. And the Largescale flounder, that really was the biggest ongoing flounder of them all, the sheer vastness of everything.

                              :fish:

                              Every now and again, less than previously though, Yoland had a Melbourne flounder on Saturday nights, and rather enjoyed it, but not as much as she enjoyed a good old New Zealand flounder.

                              :fish:

                              Another flounder Yoland always enjoyed was an Olive wide-eyed flounder, roaming around the ancient olive trees of Andalucia, wide eyed and awestruck with the beauty and history of the place. She also enjoyed a Peruvian flounder on occasion, too ~ she’d even had a dream recently about floundering around by the mysterious doorway of Amaru Muru. The next night she’d had a River flounder, dreaming of the river in the Grand Canyon.

                              :fish:

                              Sand flounders were the best of all though, Yoland recalled many happy flounderings in the world of sand and all its Subulmantium configurations. The trouble with the sand flounder was that it often morphed into the largescale flounder, and got quite out of hand.

                              :fish:

                              Yoland sighed, it had been ages since she’d felt connected to the Seven pelvic ray flounder, what with Dan working nights. She was beginning to feel like a Shelf flounder. However, at least thanks to her new diet of replacing meals with flans, chocolate mousses and ice cream, she was closely aligning now with the Slender flounder.

                              :fish:

                              The ongoing slug issue with the cat food was obviously because she was still strongly aligned with the Slime flounder. Notwithstanding, Yoland was rather pleased to note that despite her morose and petulant mood this morning, it had to be said that she often counterparted with the Smooth flounder; although that was easy to forget in moments of quiet desperation when the floundering got out of proportion.

                              :fish:

                              Smiling, Yoland remembered the dream of feet touching when she noticed there was a Sole flounder too. And how often the Spotted flounder popped up, she was always spotting clues. Well spotted! she would tell herself. Oh, and the Stone flounder, wasn’t that the truth! Yoland was aligning strongly with that lately, smoking more than ever, somehow striving for either inspiration, or perhaps oblivion.

                              :fish:

                              Oh well, I guess this is just a Summer flounder, it will pass, Yoland decided (who was secretly glad that she was nearing the end of the list of flounder names). And sure enough, the next on the list was the Three spotted flounder, surely a good sign! A probability change perhaps! As if to validate Yolands impression, she noticed the Tile-colored righteye flounder. There was even a Warthog flounder, which seemed to ring a bell with a recent entry to the Reality Play.

                              :fish:

                              Best of all was the Windowpane flounder, Yoland felt she would even go so far as to say that this was her new focus animal. Well, she thought, if I am making this all up, I can make that up too!

                              :fish:

                              Thankfully Yoland reached the end of the flounder list, rather pleased that it had ended on such an amusing and encouraging note.

                              Being closely aligned with flounders wasn’t such a bad thing after all.

                              :fish:

                              #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:

                                #2569

                                In reply to: Strings of Nines

                                ÉricÉric
                                Keymaster

                                  Largely concealed by his trenchcoat and his large pinhole glasses, peering through the other pinholes he’d made in his copy of that outdated rag of the Old Reality Times newspaper in front of him, Godfrey was spying on Franlise who he could see trotting on the cobblestone pavement at a fast pace —and rather elegantly for a cleanlady, he should add.
                                  She was wearing a pair of posh fishnet stockings which would on occasion raise a few whistles from the bystanders. All of which was making his staying incognito rather impracticable.

                                  Maybe she had detected something, but suddenly as well as inexplicably, she altered her course to dive into a dark alley on the side of a tall building. From there, she seemed to have vanished. She was certainly inside that building… all of this was getting suspicious and suspiciouser.

                                  Godfrey decided to wait patiently for an hour or so. After all, the autumn breeze of Hoowkes Bay was doing good to his flooh. He ordered a coughee latte at the terrace of a nearby café, throwing occasionally a few side glances in case the mysterious inner-lovely cleanlady would suddenly reappear. He was quite enjoying being here, taking a break from Ann’s often incoherent streams of thoughts his flooh was giving him a hard time to piece together. He’d been better at that than he was now, he was the first to admit.
                                  Now, he wondered, why was he continuously attracting such extravagant authors such as Elizabeth and Ann. Perhaps he loved the thrill posed to him by the labyrinthine tendrils of imagination these two had the curious ability to spread afar and entangle beyond hope… Or perhaps it was simply a curse.

                                  A that point, the screech of a magpie pierced the mid-afternoon sunlight bathed and calm balmy air, interrupting his thoughts. An omen?

                                  Maybe also, and more simply, he was taking a liking to the mysterious cleanlady and was envying her apparent natural ability at streamlining those nuggets of thoughts into seemingly coherent patterns. If such a thing as a Fellowship of Unification and Continuity in Knowledge existed, it couldn’t really be a terrorist organisation… it seemed more like a flovesend relief group to him.

                                  But frankly, he didn’t even know what he was talking about.

                                Viewing 20 results - 181 through 200 (of 278 total)