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  • #2995
    ÉricÉric
    Keymaster

      In Ed Steam’s old office, Lord Lemon was like in a mausoleum full of ghosts.
      Mostly computer illiterate, he favoured greatly goose feather and dark Chinese ink soft purr on the paper over the annoying clickety racket of the keyboards. So he wasn’t exactly feeling at home in Ed’s old shoes.

      The team’s greeting party had been cordial, but he didn’t feel an overwhelming welcome either, not that he expected it. It was Ed’s team after all, he was the Rooster of the chicks of roast, whatever they liked to call themselves. He was not found of monikers and preferred to be addressed simply as Sir.

      The call he received on the morning was perplexing him. They’d found an auditor dead with a Surge Corp. business card in his jacket in the streets of a Spanish city, he couldn’t really remember which, the accent on the phone was as dreadful as that of a Chinese civet, but… What was that about already? He’d thought his memory was improving, getting back on the field, but there were relapses again, he had to concentrate. Afternoon Scrabble games were not that bad after all.

      He’d perfected a neat technique to remember things, placing vivid images in memory palaces constructed in his mind were he could retrieve them later, but the thing was that his memory palaces sorely lacked a cleaning lady, and images sometimes blurred together or went missing, fading away. He sighed.

      His gaze on the phone brought him back to his stream of thought. This would have been stored on the Suspicious Clues Palace, in Ed’s corner. His mind raced back in the atrium of his palace where he could see the various corners, and he went back into the Alley of Dark Secrets, then turned to the Corner of Lonely Puzzle Pieces. There were actually a lot of them, but the topmost one was vivid enough. It was a red blood hearing-aid spewing out a mean Larsen and bathing in paella. For “auditor murdered in Spain” obviously. He turned down mentally the volume of the hearing-piece. This was not a very elegant image, but he was in a hurry, and crude preposterous images always were remembered better he’d found out. The lewdest even more so. Which was why his Palace of Past Precious Moments was starting to look like a brothel he was loath to admit.

      He was starting to wonder if Ed’s demise was not some sort of inside job. Circumstances were not really orthodox, but nothing was in their line of duty, so he had to look for something else. He’d already started to make an inventory of the storage room, just before the break-in, but computer handicapped as he was, between paper and memory palaces, he couldn’t figure it anymore and had to start it over with some help from Cornella.
      At least, he’d sent Hyphen and Dash to discreetly investigate on the break-in and now, he will probably send them to investigate on… he faced a blank. All he could remember now was he was having the meanest craving for mussels and prawns.

      #2986
      Jib
      Participant

        Aqua Luna had difficulties understanding what the voice was telling her. The words made perfect sense, separately. They were like bubbles floating around her, she could almost see them. Each had a different hue and some where even shining a bit.
        “What am I experiencing ?” she asked.
        At least it was her thoughts, but she wasn’t sure the voice would understand as each bubble seemed to follow its separate route once out of her mouth.
        When more bubbles appeared in the room, it seemed they were coming from all around her, and not from a specific location. She wondered if she was in some kind of whale ship, in its stomach.
        When more bubbles came, she began to feel a bit irritated. She smashed one with her left hand and got startled by the booming “SHAKE”. She retreated on the spongy stomach which was emitting bubbles now. She tried to shoo them away and their explosion was more like a squishy sound.
        A bigger bubble was coming toward her. It was with shades of pink and blue, very vibrant. She put her hands on her ears before it blew out, but the sound seemed to come from her skin now.

        HAHAHAHA

        When more bubbles came to her, the words she heard were the following

        quickly full days told moscow
        dragon sounds face earth itself
        pin often middle herself under light
        katarina warm asked further turned

        It made no sense at all, but she was beginning to find it fun.

        #2985
        Jib
        Participant

          The fresh breeze on her face awoke Aqua Luna. She struggled a moment to open her eyes, and realized that it was completely dark around her. The floor she was lying on was soft and spongy, and when she moved to sit the soil emitted a weak suction noise as if full of water. But it was dry, that she could tell after so many years of cleaning. And the smell on her finger was merely that of her familiar detergents.
          She was feeling a bit numb and in a neutral mood. She couldn’t remember how she arrived here. She hesitated a moment and asked “Where am I ?” Her voice sounded muffled and distant to her.
          “You’re on my ship,” an unknown male voice answered after a few seconds.
          “Why is it so dark?”
          “I didn’t want to frighten you.”
          “Am I a prisoner ?” she asked, checking if she could feel something else past the numbness. “Are you going to torture me ?” she probed with no more success with her feelings.
          “To the contrary, earthling, you are a very valuable person to us.”
          She thought about her work. Maybe the Long Poonese mafia abducted her to extract some information.
          It was so dark that colors and shapes were beginning to appear before her eyes.
          “Did you drug me ?”
          “It was a necessary precautionary measure for your own good. “

          #2983
          Jib
          Participant

            Aqua Luna’s duster was stuck in Cornella’s keyboard. She was still struggling to free it without paying too much attention to the screen. The red symbols blinking on the maps would have confused her, she would not have understood their meaning or the significance of the buttons she inadvertently pushed in her struggle. She has grown in the countryside, at a time where there was no internet available. She barely used her Oopia telepooh her daughter offered her a few years ago. The truth was she didn’t know how to take the call, even after her son in-law, showed her. Richard, that was his name. “He got the face’s name” she thought imagining the rag was a hair in his nose.

            “I got it!” she exulted, pushing unknowingly the key combination to lock the session again. She returned the keyboard to its former position just as Cornella arrived.
            “Oh! Thank you Aqua, you’re such a sweetie.”
            The cleaning lady who didn’t really understood English put on her talk-to-my-hand smile. And left the room. She would clean the other desks later, she needed a break.

            Cornella’s voice stormed out.
            “What the heck! There has been a breach in the artifact chamber!”
            But Aqua Luna wasn’t paying attention, it was like French to her. She was rather wishing she could taking one of those red limo to go back to her place. The Chicks always used them to go everywhere, but Aqua had to take the public transportation system. That wasn’t fair.

            She sneaked into the garage, not aware of the camera system or the alarm system. Tony, one of the chauffeurs was there.

            #2982
            ÉricÉric
            Keymaster

              You’re waiting for a train. A train that will take you far away. You know where you hope this train will take you, but you can’t be sure…
              Josephinella, the train station cleaning lady, was on night duty. And she was tired of waiting for that damned train with that irritating French accent in her ears, her lungs filled with the engines’ fine coal dust and her nostrils irritated by the pigeons’ smell.
              But tonight was going to be her night, she would get drunk on fresh air, her hair whipping her face, bugs biting her eyes, while she would sing elated woohoos launched at full speed on the last commuter train left unattended by drunk Freddie. That was such a beautiful plan.

              :fleuron:

              Another Dreamliner scare… and a train crash coming your way!”
              “Sounds like a transportation surge to me!” Björk replied on the internal chatting system to her African Twa colleague Kiki Razwa. Björk was not her real name though —it was just a moniker given to her because she liked eccentric costumes. Her real name was Mæja Valbjörnsdóttir,… so ‘Björk’ was better for everyone in that international team, she’d tried to convince herself.
              “Doesn’t internal policy says two makes a clue, three makes a surge ?”
              “Oh, who cares… For me it smells dreamception transportation surge.”
              “Better that than this Mercury retrograde crap, at least that’s more fun to hunt.” Kiki’s reply came up on the screen.
              Björk had come to realize that she would probably have to cover for Mari Fe who was elsewhere but at her post. The last surge being in Europe, so she was in for a trip at the taxpayers’ expense… Not so bad actually, since nothing ever happened on her faraway island.

              #2973
              Jib
              Participant

                The snow was falling gently on that Russian night. People were walking in the cold, covered in warm colorful clothes which Mari Fe was finding funny.
                Do you hear the music ?” asked Pearl.
                “What music ?”
                “It’s sounds like a choir in the distance. I suddenly feel melancholia.”
                Mari Fe had forgotten she had her earplugs on, and as soon as she had removed the right one, she put it back.
                “Put your earplugs, Pearl ! Quick ! You’re being hypnotized.”
                “Hypnotized ? Don’t be silly; I’m sad, is all.” Pearl was feeling tears filling up her eyes. Life was so dull lately and maybe it was the seven beers she drank, maybe she something awful had happen and she didn’t know. Something sad must have happen, she thought, how else would I’ve been so sad. But she couldn’t remember. She wasn’t even listening to Mari Fe who was being agitated suddenly. Hadn’t she realized ?

                Mari Fe was looking frantically in her pockets. Did she has another pair of surge earplugs ? She found a pink panther taser. Another techno stuff, she threw with disgust on her face. She jumped on Pearl and tried to immobilize her, she was trying to put her hands in her pockets to find those damn earplugs. Maybe Janet took them ? What an idea.

                #2968
                ÉricÉric
                Keymaster

                  Madam Li contemplated the pill-like translucent object glowing bright red which could barely fit in the palm of her delicate hand.
                  People usually said that you could try and hide your age as well as possible on your face, but that hands didn’t lie. Hers actually were still a young woman’s fine delicate and smooth work-of-art.
                  The snow had stopped immediately, leaving the weather in the Pudding area as it used to be: a pale mist of polluted fog, thus returning Shanghai to its normal weather patterns. The rote was there in her hand, full of the last surge’s energy, a tempting promise of uncontrollable power, but she had seen far too much power struggle and horrors to be really tempted by it.

                  Ed’s demise had taken her by surprise. Although she did look young, it was her heart who really betrayed her. She hated people leaving her, and she would have expected Ed to survive her own death. It was the first time she was considering ever so briefly the thought of retiring. Of course, she still would need to find a replacement at her post, but China was full of eager potentials, that wouldn’t take too long.
                  Putting the rote in the diplomatic case, her gaze trailed on the invitation, still on the table. She wasn’t ashamed to admit her first thought went to the cleaning lady who had been careful to dust all around it, without moving it an inch off the glass table top.
                  Spain just came as an afterthought, already having lost its appeal as soon as summoned.

                  Wrapping herself in her white fur coat, she called for a taxi. She would be just in time for the ice festival in Harbin with a warm dog legs’ soup and some yak butter tea.

                  #2958
                  Jib
                  Participant

                    In the meantime in Long Poon, Cornella was irritated by her last Naza Fecebook update. It appeared THEY had noticed something about the sun that the Surge Team was not aware of yet. How could that be so ? She thought momentarily about the invitation she received last week about a costumed party in Tartessos (did she get the name right ?) and maybe too many of the operatives chose to take their vacations then. She would not be surprised if she checked on Maya, the vacation software of the company.

                    But the fact that was bothering her was that the sun wind was hotter that it should be. Wasn’t it a surge, for Roaster’s sake ? Her damn cell phone wasn’t working in the lab with all the security mesures and she wondered how she could have received the update from fecebook, but shit always finds its way, doesn’t it?

                    On her way to the lab, she was ranting about all that. And she had to go through the mist again. It was primarily intended for disinfection. An idea Ed got when he came back from a trip to France where it was customary to get sprayed on your face by the stewardesses before landing. And maybe he watched too much spy TV series, but that was another story Mari Fe told her once. How did she knew that ?

                    Blinded by the mist, she eventually found the door. She was holding her breath not to get too intoxicated and it was always a pain to type the code to get out. She’ll have to mention that to Ed soon. But she always forgot.

                    Taking a deep breath in, she didn’t notice Aqua Luna struggling with the keyboard of Cornella’s computer.

                    #2954
                    Jib
                    Participant

                      There was something familiar with the road. The trees, the warmth. It was a fine weather for the season. Almost 70°F. Janet Mendyourhall had a strong feeling of déjà vu. She was on her way to Sedona to attend the annual Glasnik meeting. The Threshold to 2013. Since she had been posted to the West Coast, she was to attend every psychic or ET manifestation in the area. And believe it or not, there was a lot of them. The Lightbearers, Glasnik, The Crimson Feathers, and all the less famous ones like Birgitt’s Wheel from Germany, the reincarnation of Von Bingen.

                      Janet was trying to go to those events with an open mind, which usually means that as a premise you didn’t believe what you were going to see. And she had seen a lot of crap and a few gems.

                      She realized the car needed gas, luckily she was not far from Cottonwood. That name triggered steamy memories and a blush on her face. She had always loved meeting that young boy, he had such a sense of service, and such a wonderful body. She turned left without even thinking of it. The sun was high in the sky and the light was playing through the trees, still green her mind registered.

                      When she arrived at the station, the boy was discussing with another woman in a red car. Her hands squizzed the wheel and her lips tightened. That feeling of déjà vu again.

                      #2952

                      Quick witted Arona, realising their cover was blown, grabbed Mandrake and hid behind a hot pink leather chaise lounge in the corner of the room.

                      Mandrake, I think Yikesy might be going though another growth spurt,” said Arona, after a few moments spent reflecting thoughtfully on proceedings in the room. “Good thing I brought him that cute snuggle fit stretch’n‘grow set to wear for the mission.”

                      Mandrake rolled his eyes. “He isn’t a baby, Arona and you really shouldn’t make him wear those ridiculous outfits. Although, I must say, in this instance, for the sake of decency, it is probably just as well. But for goodness sakes, the boy is just about old enough to grow a moustache.”

                      “Oh well, I guess you are right. But he has such an endearingly ugly little baby face still, people often think he is younger than he is. I wonder if that strange woman in the red coat would take a photo if I asked her.”

                      #2949

                      In reply to: Scrying the Word Cloud

                      TracyTracy
                      Participant

                        open inside, turned green ~ making work away next face.
                        busy under odd baltazar fairy…

                        #2931
                        TracyTracy
                        Participant

                          “It’s just a jump to the right, Mari Fe” whispered Bee, trying not to giggle. Mari Fe was giggling so hard the tears were rolling down her face.
                          “Give me a minute Bee” she gasped, wiping her eyes. “I need to get a grip before I can continue.”
                          SHHH! they’ll hear you! They don’t know you’re in here!”
                          “In ~ where are we, Bee?” asked Mari Fe, looking around at the strange dimensions and shape of the room. “Where are we?”

                          #2913
                          Jib
                          Participant

                            The man in vermillion robes was indeed the real Balthazar. Mari Fe had scheduled the portal to bring him from the past earlier, and it was quite annoying it all happened while Ed was in the bathroom.

                            What was he doing there anyway ? She hold a gasped back when she realized about his moustache. It really was changing his face and she noticed for the first time how slim his lips were. It was all camouflaged by his waxed moustache before and now, naked in the open. She blushed at the words in her head, she had imagined something else.

                            The man in the red robes moaned. She had to take care of the situation before Ed realized what was going on. He was not to know. She didn’t think and took a heavy china cup from her new Ikea poplar shelves, and smashed it on the man’s head.

                            “Firmly handled, Chicken”, Ed said, “But why on earth would you do that ?”

                            #2907

                            Yann was proud of himself, he had answered his first phone call in Chinese.

                            When they first arrived at the hotel, it was a wonderful and colorful place, all those reds and warm yellows, with well chosen touches of blue and green. The morning light was illuminating the lobby in a soothing way, it seemed as if it was gently brushing the leather of the armchairs and sofas. He noticed an old cleaning lady carefully sweeping the tiles of the floor one by one.

                            “I love this place”, he had told Yurick. “It’s so peaceful, I feel energized.”

                            The big smile on his face stayed there even when he first realized noone in the hotel could speak English or French, or even Javanese. Yurick was speaking Chinese after all.
                            But Yurick was not always here. He had to go out for a meeting with a certain Lulla for work. And Yann desperately needed to call a taxi. So he plucked up courage and called the hotel management.

                            “Ni hao [incomprensible Chinese words] ?”
                            Did it really ended with a question mark ? Yann was not sure. “Ni hao”, he said. He was so concerned by the thought of his awful pronunciation that he missed what the person answered.
                            “I number 447 (translated from Chinese). I wanting taxi.”
                            “[incomprehensible] 47 ?”
                            “No. 400, 40, 7.”
                            “Ah! 447. You are the French guy. (translated from Chinese)”
                            “Yes, French guy. I wanting taxi.”
                            “Ok, [incomprehensible]. Ok ?”
                            “Ok. Thank you.”

                            He hanged up the phone with an artificial sense of trust. That, he had learnt in that country was primordial. You launched your rocket of desire to the universe and trust that it would all end up as you desired. With that philosophy you better be clear with what you wanted.

                            #2904
                            ÉricÉric
                            Keymaster

                              Lulla Spinosa and Vera Pappaloosa were set to meet in Pohnpei , at a few nautical knots and cable length (as the gulls fly) from the Marshall Islands in the beautiful deeply aquamarine middle of the Pacific Ocean. 🐳

                              Lulla was the first to arrive, and feeling hungry after the sea trip with the amphibian red corvette, bought a pan seared squid skewer from the street vendor at the jetty. Something Vera would certainly have disapproved of, with her uppity glances, perfect gloss lipstick and mascara. Not the kind to nibble on such barbaric foods. Anyway, too bad the street vendor had run short of garlic, she would have gladly paid extra for it, just for the priceless look on the princess’ face while they would ride for the next hours in the confined car to their assigned destination.

                              #2887
                              Jib
                              Participant

                                Little Jeffrey loved going to the library. It was not far from home and he was allowed to go there on his own.

                                On his way, there were many treasures.

                                One of them was a big giant Tesla Coil. His father had told him it was a fake and the real one was in the science museum on the other side of the planet with all Tesla’s inventions up to the electricityairborn car. Nonetheless, there were always many people playing around and at times lights and electric sounds would give you the impressions as if you were near the real one. Little Jeffrey knew exactly when to go to the library to see the lights and he enjoyed seeing the look on people’s face who were passing by for the first time.

                                But most of all, his favorite was the ship. His father had told him she was a real one and she has been put there because it was the favourite smuggling place of his captain. Little Jeffrey dreamt of her every night. He dreamt he was a pirate, sailing in the oceans with Captain Yang Lang. In his dreams, the ship could even go to the Moon with one of Tesla’s inventions powering her.

                                The Aqua Luna library was named after her.

                                #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.

                                  #2881
                                  TracyTracy
                                  Participant

                                    Baltazar made a face as he swallowed the time travel sickness pill. “Could have made them smaller” he grumbled.

                                    Intu rolled her eyes. “Stop being such a jess and take this” she said, handing him a smoking frothing potion in a tall silver cup. “For the side effects of the Replicator.”

                                    “I hate this time of year. Trying to be in a hundred places at once, all because of that stupid tradition.”

                                    “How do you think I feel?” asked Jesus. “At least you don’t have to wear a nappy.”

                                    “It’s not a nappy, it’s swaddling clothes. Haven’t they finished with all that religion stuff yet?” said Baltazar. “Maybe if we just don’t turn up, it will bring the end forward? Can’t we just stay here in Tartessos? Bugger their parades, I’m not going again.”

                                    Intu gasped. “Baltazar, you can’t let me down now. This might very well be the last time, if everything goes according to plan. I tell you what, I’ll make a deal with you. I’ll arrange for you to meet the reindeer pee travelling salesman on the way.”

                                    #127

                                    In reply to: Tales of Tw’Elves

                                    ÉricÉric
                                    Keymaster

                                      On the marina, Sue Flay, wrapped in hot pink towel sprinkled in horseradish and buns crumbs started to feel dizzy and possessed.
                                      Her poodle had bitten her savagely, and her right breast was bleeding profusely.

                                      “May I be of assistance?” an tonsured man with a genial face and white girded loins asked, handing her a raspy paper towel.

                                      Without knowing why, Sue started to sob like a huge meringue.

                                      #1306

                                      In reply to: Tales of Tw’Elves

                                      benjaminbenjamin
                                      Participant

                                        Meanwhile back at the ranch – and it was a true ranch with horses and cattle and mountains stretching as far as one could see – Neb was sighing in dismay. He had an odd scrunched look upon his face, and he was curled up in the fetus position.

                                        “How am I supposed to life like this!” Neb demanded.

                                        “All these bloody synchronicities, manifestations and freaking reality shifts are making me feel very uncomfortable.” Neb pouted. Neb tried to imagine his happy place, any happy place would do, but all he could muster was the thought of white buns and spider webs.

                                        “Is not this the point of The Shift?” asked a voice in Nebs head.

                                        “Why bloody not!”

                                        “You don’t know where I’ve just come from, and what I was doing, and what I’ve seen with my very eyes.” Neb moaned.

                                        “So your afraid yet once again, my friend. You fear a lot of things, and have many beliefs about your shelf, elf, I mean self.” said the voice.

                                        “My thoughts manifest in an instant, and usually not in a pleasant way. No not at all, and most uncomfortably obvious too.” said Neb.

                                        “That’s splendid!”

                                        “Sounds to me like your shifting right along, and from what you’ve said, you are allowing your reality to shift quite easily.”

                                        “With ease!?” shouted Neb.

                                        “Its a bloody mess, is what it is. I seem to attract just what I don’t want, and rarely what I do, and this is all to much for me to accept.”

                                        A pink poodle with twenty or so linked sausages in its mouth strolled up to Neb. The poodle grinned, and dropped the sausages in front of Neb, then strutted in a westward direction.

                                        Neb looked at the sausages, and cringed.

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