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  • Haki came back making haka postures to give her courage to face her despot employer: “you mother said: if you don’t want me around for Yule, I’ll come back for Ostara and the pagan futility rituals, you ungrateful daughter —her words, not mine.” She took advantage of the mother threat that seemed to render Liz speechless, to ... · ID #3655 (continued)
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  • #3208

    While she was adjusting her bikini over her fake boobs, Maurana Banana felt a sudden pang of panic. Nothing that could be lipsynched away with bursting into some Name Game song

    Everything was here, yet she didn’t feel fleshed out enough. She wasn’t talking about gaining some padding, she had plenty enough of that, but more about depth and character. At times, she even felt highly suggestible.

    The sound of the waves crashing down the rugged black volcanic stones under the white sand was soothing. The others’ shrills of delight could be heard miles away, they were hoping for a dolphins’ pod sighting and had even abandoned the Goochi platform shoes to be more comfortable.

    Sadie was very quiet, and at times felt almost like she was about to say hello and run out of conversation. However, she told something that had struck the Reggie inside the Maurana’s persona. That she should act on her highest excitement, and that there was no more to life than that.
    Easy enough when in drags, but when out of the wigs, make-up and fake eyelashes and acrylic nails, it was like being an out-of-water dolphin. Nothing but a big fat stranded sardine without appeal, just good for an extra pouring of olive oil.

    Before being a drag queen, Reginald worked a few jobs since a young age, mostly deliveries. The last one he got was more stable, a job as a security guy. He’d almost blundered at the interview, he laughed at it now, when he’d forgotten to remove the Gothic styled nails from the night. Instead of hiding them and look stupid, he had the good sense to invent those crazy stories like the ones he would tell his teacher when he forgot some homework deadline.
    Security was better than delivery, there was no denying. Being in a position were people were not quite paying attention to you, but still eyeing you from the corner, as if you could do something vicious or bully them out of the building. She liked that.
    There was always excitement as there were plenty of crazy people each day to be escorted out, so following excitement wasn’t difficult. Following yours was more of a catch.

    She’d joined the drag contest to win her own highest excitement. She already got points for being the first pick-up of the jury before Consuela and Terry, and also for being the one to snatch the key.

    She put the last touch of green on her eyelids with a hand flourish. She was perfect. For now, that was something to get excited about.

    #3187

    “If you have any spare room in that basket, mademoiselle, can I come too?” asked Mirabelle, the oldest maid. “I feel like I’m stuck in the wrong time zone here, in this life of servitude. I am sure I was destined for much more interesting things than this.”
    “Well” said Sadie, “It would appear that there is plenty of room in this basket, because the dragglers are going with Sanso and the, er, singing frogs. Who else wants to go in the balloon?”
    “Would it be alright if Igor came?” asked Mirabelle, blushing.
    “You tart, Mirabelle, if Igor’s going then so am I! And Fanella.” Adeline piped up. “I am so done with all this religious stuff and praying to Mother Mary. Take me to the future!”
    “If Mirabelle’s taking Igor, then I want Boris to come too” said Fanella.
    Mirabelle and Adeline looked at Fanella in astonishment. “You kept that quiet, you tart!” the cried in unison.
    “I think Ivan should come too” added Adeline.
    Sadie raised an eyebrow. “Well then” she said. “ I hope one of you knows how to fly this balloon, because I’m going with Sanso. Bon Voyage!” And with that, she left them to it and rejoined the others.

    #3181

    Out-of-body invisible to-anyone-but-spirits Geoffrey was looking amazed at the scene in front of him. He was back in the Chapelle near his body when he witnessed the fit, which translated to him in French like “merde, merde, merdasse, merdum, merdarum” and latin-like declination of the word.

    Some unspoken words of wisdom seemed to superimpose on the scene from many voices which roughly translated as “don’t say poop if you mean to say shit”.

    As an actor, this was easy, he just had to follow the script, but as himself, he often bit his tongue when he wanted to say to Lison that she was hamming up the play just for fear to hurt her feelings being the star of the play (or to avoid creating even bigger bickering amongst the troupe).
    When he’d wake up, he felt like encouraging Francette to be more daring on the stage and let her light shine bright. That should even the odds.

    #3180

    “Oh fuck off” the words came out without her usual countenance.
    Fuck the Queen and motherfucking King, and fuck all of that, and the fuck with those stupid drags in tow, I’d better ask for an extraction team right away. “Oops, sorry no budget love” would most likely be the answer.
    Fuck fuck fuck. FUCK FUCK FUCK. Sadie was hysterical for a moment.
    It felt good, and she knew she had to feel good above anything else.

    #3168
    TracyTracy
    Participant

      Cook swore loudly for the umpteenth time that morning, throwing her wooden spoon across the room. “I just can’t get the consistency right! These tarts are a disaster!”
      “Now, now, Cook” said one of the kitchen helpers, kindly patting her back. “You’re trying too hard to make sure the tarts are perfect. You know you create your best concoctions when you’re feeling playful and confident. Perhaps you should take a small break, and pop over to the chapel and pray to Mother Mary for lightness and ease.”
      “I do believe you’re right” replied cook, smiling gratefully at Helper and wiping her floury hands on her apron.

      #3163

      Sadie was using the sewing app on her e-zapper to modify the horrible garments provided for them, when she noticed that the ferret was moving toward the chapel. She felt a rush of anticipation go through her.

      ”Okay, you guys, we need to hide. Someone is coming and it looks like they have a ferret on them!”

      xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

      ”Oh Dear Blessed Mother Mary, and if there are any Saints or Angels listening, please help me. I have done something very bad and done an awful sin and and I don’t want to be beaten so please forgive me. I am so sorry for taking the little toy. It was for my little brother because it is his birthday coming up, but it is a sin to steal and also to think that the Queen is old and ugly and please have mercy on me and I promise I will never sin again and I will serve you the rest of my life. I won’t be rude to Mirabelle, even though she is a bad sinner and quite mean. I will only do good and smile and think good things. I will say my prayers every night. So please have mercy on me and make sure I don’t get in trouble. I am leaving the little toy here for you and you can do what you think is best. But don’t tell anyone I left it”

      ”Please.” she added again, for good measure.

      Feeling satisfied that she had done all she could, Adeline placed the toy ferret gently in front of the statue of Mary, and silently slipped out of the chapel.

      #3159

      “Tu es betes comme tes pieds,” muttered Adeline under her breath. (She muttered the small insult in french, to add some couleur locale to the story). Inwardly though, her heart clutched with fear. Both the ferrets were missing! A tumble of panicked thoughts rushed through her head. Should she return the ferret and say she took it for mending? No, they would not believe she had just the one and would beat her without mercy for the other. She had seen it happen to others for much lesser crimes.

      Oh dear Mother of God, I wish I had never touched the stupid toy. If only I could go back in time and do things over.

      All of a sudden a feeling of great peace came over her. A feeling of clarity. She must pray! She must throw herself on the mercy of Mother Mary and the Saints. May they forgive her for her sins. First opportunity she got she would sneak in the secret way to the chapelle and pray to Mother Mary for help.

      Mirabelle’s harsh voice interrupted her. “Are you listening, Adeline! I said those floors won’t wash themselves.”

      #3154

      “I don’t know why Cook is making such a fuss about that missing knife, making us all feel like suspects!” complained Mirabelle to the other maids, as they lined up shivering in the chilly servants quarters, to take turns splashing their faces in bowl of cold water.
      “That’s not the only thing that’s gone missing, either” added Fanella, glancing at Mirabelle with a knowing look. Mirabelle nodded, looking over at Adeline with a raised eyebrow. “The queen’s ferrets have gone missing too.”

      #3143

      “A feeling of despair or depression Madame is a sign that you are holding a false belief. To perpetuate an untruth about yourself, another, or God is to block your own happiness.”
      “Good lord, when did you become so smart, Nicole” she wondered while her maid was prepping her new wig and leather boots for her morning walk around the grounds. It sounded like the Count had some good influence on the people.
      She greatly anticipated to hear his new composition played in the Opera tonight.

      #3134

      They did only realize they got out of the tunnel when the dimmed blue lights faded completely. It was almost pitch black apart from a few braziers in a narrowing vaulted tunnel paved in the manner of a future metro line.
      The passengers had noticed the transition from the smooth gliding gait of the zebras to the clopping of the hooves on the cobblestones. Sadie peaked outside of the carriage
      “Have we arrived? Where are we?”
      “Rightly so, darling. We’re under the grotto. Technically, it’s a chapel now. I did some adjustments underground.”
      “Mmm…” Sadie nodded indecisively. She couldn’t find the least rude way to nod without letting her thinking it was utter rubbish show through. So she kept quiet for a moment and even refrained rolling her eyes. “So, we’re….?”
      “We’re at the North Wing of the Palace, darling. It’s just nearby the Royal Opera House of the Palace, where your show will be held tonight, your e-flapper should have told you that. Don’t mind the construction work, it will give a steampunk feel to your show before it’s even invented.”
      “Of course.” she said evenly. “The North Wing. Well, we all in need of sleep and refreshing before tonight’s show, so…?” trying to worm out meaningful words from Sanso seemed a futile attempt.
      “Fancy that, darling, I have another delicate extraction of time stranders to go to,” checking a greasy paper from his shirt pocket,… “in last century or so, I can’t afford to be late. Let me help you lots out of here, leave it to Chair to take back those zebras to the Royal zoo and deliver that barrel of fine champagne, and you’re on your own.”

      Before Sadie could tell the word rude, Sanso had folded the carriage back unto itself, pocketed it and disappeared in a wallmhole —leaving only beside herself, the mute Chair on top of a barrel of vintage champagne, four exhausted and pawing zebras, and three sleep-deprieved disheveled divas.

      At least, the secrete cave of a Chapel is not overly conspicuous she said, trying to cheer herself up, remembering her training that light would prevail.

      #3127

      They arrived to the tunnel, it was almost dawn. Sanso spotted a ghostly flicker near the entrance. The cave network was guarded by a kind of protective spirits who checked your mission order so they could establish the right connection between the way in and the way out.
      Sanso felt a twinge of irritation as he recognized the ghostly figure.

      “Rifraf”, said Sanso as affable as he could manage.

      “Stop”, said Rifraf with a tone cold enough to freeze your spine. “You know the procedure”, he added with his hand stretched in front of him.

      Sanso looked into his rough leather bag to find the mission order. He could swear that the objects and papers had moved on their own while he wasn’t looking. It was a mess. He looked carefully at the paper he found and handed it to the guard. Rifraf seemed to have slowed his movement on purpose. He looked at the document. He looked at it again, looked at Sanso briefly, and at the document again.

      “This document is incomplete, you can’t pass”, said the spirit.

      Sanso looked at the mission order and realized that he had handed the copy. The original had two curly fleurons on the top and on the bottom. That’s why he didn’t like this one, he was a bit too rigid about the protocole.
      Where was this … document ? Sanso looked in his bag frantically as Rifraf was beginning to disappear. Here it was. “Hold on”, he said to the ghost. he checked quicky if there was no other typo or missing element. Everything was there. He just hoped Rifraf would say nothing about the grease stains.

      The guard snorted and nodded, as if reluctantly. He waved his hand and blue torches began to light up, showing the way.

      “Follow the blue lights”, said Rifraf and he disappeared.

      Sanso felt the warmth flowing back in his bones. When Sadie looked out the window, he was feeling much better. “What is taking so long ?”, she asked with a frown.
      “Administration”, he said with a grin.

      She answered with an eye-roll and her head disappeared in the coach. The sun was rising.

      #3125

      Maurana was starting to feel queasy in the lurching carriage, and asked Sanso to rein in the zebras so that she could step outside for a moment. As soon as the steaming animals clattered to a stop, Maurana threw open the door and skittered down the steps, and issued forth a long mustard coloured ribbon of projectile vomit that draped the hedgerow like a garland.
      “Darling, that gorgeous mustard colour goes so well with the wild roses, I really must have a gown in those colours!” said Conseula, who was still planning her new oufits. “A rose gown with mustard ribbon garlands, and a whalebone corset and hoops of course. I say, Chair, where did you get your cork bum from?” she added, as the footman climbed down from atop the barrel of champagne to stretch his legs.
      “From the best bum cutter in France, Gilles Culeau. He has a secret recipe for the most comfortable bums you can buy, and in my job, you need a comfy bum. He uses a special outer casing of cork, and stuffs it with ferret fur, for extra warmth and comfortable padding ~ not like those cheap solid cork bums you find in Paris. Culeau’s bums are made from the finest imported Seville cork…”
      “Where is his shop, I simply must have one ~ do shut up that ghastly retching Maurana ~ where Chair, can I procure a Gilles Culeau bum?”
      “Well this is your lucky day, bichet, because he has an establishment in the hamlet at the entrance to the tunnel.”
      “Maurana, if you’re quite done with that vile spectacle, will you get back in the carriage. We’re going bum shopping, toot! toot!”

      #3121

      Queen Marie, Our Good Queen, as the little gents liked to call her, had not been as excited at the prospect of the salon since a long time.
      She ringed the bell for the servant girl to bring more wood, as drafts of chilly air were coming from outside. Although quite modern and shiny, the palace was not as equipped for the cold season as the old castles from her mother land. Worse, with age and soft weather, she’d grown accustomed to being warm, and couldn’t bear the cold any longer.

      The crackling sound of the pine wood inside the small chimney was comforting and brought her back to her thoughts. A salon, full of delightful witty people, with laughters and costumes, entertainment and champagne wine. She’d heard a special batch of barrels from la Maison Ruinart would be brought especially for the Royalties. Of course, she knew most of those were small favors for the King’s mistress, Reinette, but she didn’t care. Oddly enough, she didn’t mind the woman, who had been always very delicate and considerate towards her, almost affectionate. To be honest, she was a blessing, as the inextinguishable appetite of the King for the flesh and woman beauty was now too hard to bear.

      But a party like this, ah… She reveled in the thought of seeing again monsieur de St Galle and the mysterious Comte de St Germain who always was the light of the party with his extravagant stories.

      The servant had finished to dress her for the night, putting her new powdered wig on the parakeet shaped wig-holder. She’d bought the wig with its lacquered holder in the morning from a small shop in Paris, which was had quite an aura of mystery she’d heard. Naturally she’d wanted to see for herself.
      The wigmaker was a gaunt and unassuming young man who notwithstanding made an impression on her. Jean-Baptiste’s wigs were simple and elegant, albeit not terribly inspired. His eyes, on the other hand, had a piercing yet soft gaze about them, and didn’t seem embarrassed to look at her, almost through her, as if she were a person, instead of the Queen surrounded by a retinue of bland people eager to please.
      “Let me draw you some fingers” he’d said to her, changing abruptly the topic from his rambling about books he was inspired to write about symbols. He’d forgotten the traditional address of “Your Majesty”, yet wouldn’t be stopped —regardless of the shocked expressions on the people’s faces.
      “You see, I love symbols, and when I draw people’s fingers, I can foretell events to come”.
      So that was it, she’d thought, the reason why everyone was ranting about him. He’d better be more inspired at that than wigs, as her patience was wearing thin.
      She’d had fortune tellers draw her cards a few times, but the fingers drawing part was curious enough to entice her into removing the glove off her eburnated fingers and letting him do his trick.
      An eldritch feeling crept though her spine as he was uttering words for each of the fingers he drew on with a slight pull of his hand, just enough not to crack the joints.

      In the bed warmed to a delightful temperature by the bouillotte, she began sliding into deep sleep, while a mixture of words half-forgotten or half-remembered danced around in her mind like the swirls of snowflakes dying on the warm window of her chamber: “funny moment, cold diversion, dream parade, house moustache pink, blue wonder carpets, possible king turned, green mirror travel, understand whole large parade”…

      #3064
      TracyTracy
      Participant

        But there was no need to rub it in about me feeling like an old boot, she added tartly.

        #3060
        TracyTracy
        Participant

          “Stop fucking barking!”, she said, and not by any means for the first time. “I’m trying to read!”
          And then she read:
          “Animals not only enjoy the sounds that they make, they are to some extent enchanted by them. The animals’ interior world is silent. The sound of an animal’s hoof upon the ground fills it with a sense of power and affirmation. The cat’s meow is as enchanting to the cat as to its owner—meaningful sounds that communicate feeling. These are enjoyed by all such species.”
          “Oh dear” she said to herself, momentarily nonplussed. “I seem to have turned an enchantment inside out. I could have been enjoying it all along.”

          “And who is “she”, the cat’s mother? The cats whiskers?” he asked. “The cat who got the cream?”

          “We’re going to play cat and mouse for now” she replied, licking her lips. “The fact is, she doesn’t know ~ yet. Time will tell, or a teller will time it. Do you know what I found in the sewing box the other day? A 1914 coin from Guernsey, and then would you believe it, the #1914 transcript arrived in my mailbox. So I read it. I’d like to say the timing was perfect, but in this instance it seemed to be a few weeks late. There was something in it about whales, and visualizing a special place, and do you know what I thought of? That warm lagoon, do you remember? It was in the beginning of the story.”

          #3053
          F LoveF Love
          Participant

            “Brown sauce attack, notwithstanding, nothing is as important as that I feel good,” Finn said.

            #3026
            TracyTracy
            Participant

              “I know what you mean” replied Arona, “Godfrey has alot to answer for.”

              “Well, I intend to be exceedingly rude and random in future” Becky said, with feeling.

              #3025
              TracyTracy
              Participant

                “I know what you mean” replied Arona, “Godfrey has alot to answer for.”

                “Well, I intend to be exceedingly rude and random in future” Becky said, with feeling.

                F LoveF Love
                Participant

                  “I feel for my neglected characters,” moaned Becky.

                  #3022
                  Jib
                  Participant

                    “And now, breathe in, a little bit more… and let it out.”

                    Amanda didn’t think it possible for her chest to expand more than it already had. She swayed her body, hoping that maybe it would allow more air in. It was useless, she had the impression she had lost some air. Perhaps she shouldn’t breath too deeply when Johnette… no, when the goddess speaking through Johnette asks them to breathe in.

                    She had been introduced to Johnette and the Goddess of the Antic Earth by her friend Mona, whom she hadn’t seen in years and when she fall upon her the other day, she convinced Amanda to come to the Earth Circle Group and try the meditation “because it is so fun”. But Mona didn’t come to the circle the first time, and she hadn’t come either this time. Amanda didn’t know why she came back, she hadn’t felt anything the first time. But they had asked her if she was coming to the next meeting, and she couldn’t say no.

                    “Allow the divine breath of the goddess to fill your mind and your body with its pranic power of sustentation. And take another deep breath.”

                    And there, she had been thinking again, she had lost the rythm. She managed to exale silently with a few contortion of her body and caught up the group with shorter and shallower movements of her chest. It was exhausting.
                    “It’s only been the second time”, she reminded herself. No need to tell that she wasn’t feeling at all the effects of the pranic power of sustentation. Her body was more tense after the sessions. And the worst was her disappointment when all the others would talk about the wonderful experiences with the goddess and her angels. Johnette had told her it would come, and that she needn’t worry. She had to be free of her expectations and certainly not compare herself to the others.

                    The group was composed only of women. Except Norman, but he didn’t count. He was with Bianca. Amanda was sure that she had a wonderbra. She couldn’t have such a perfect breast at her age. And she didn’t seem the kind to have her breast reconfigured. She chuckled at the idea.

                    “Ahem.”

                    Amanda winced. Johnette was frowning. Or was it the Goddess. The idea gave Amanda the creeps.

                    “Now; clear your mind, my friends, for the next location will be revealed.”

                    Amanda had no idea what the Goddess was talking about. But according to the loud whispers, the others knew, and were expecting it. She noticed that the Goddess wasn’t frowning and caught a fleeting smile.
                    Johnette’s body began to shake and the most disturbing whale sound filled up the room.

                    “Sorry,” said Bianca, “wrong CD”.

                  Viewing 20 results - 461 through 480 (of 928 total)

                  Daily Random Quote

                  • Haki came back making haka postures to give her courage to face her despot employer: “you mother said: if you don’t want me around for Yule, I’ll come back for Ostara and the pagan futility rituals, you ungrateful daughter —her words, not mine.” She took advantage of the mother threat that seemed to render Liz speechless, to ... · ID #3655 (continued)
                    (next in 03h 41min…)

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