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  • #1033
    TracyTracy
    Participant

      Dory was just about to set off for Rita’s house for the appointment with the hairdresser when she read the news. Rita was getting married soon and wanted to experiment with different hairstyles and make-up, and Dory had planned to join her for a bit of a make-over , out of curiosity, but the news of cyclone Ycart and its trail of devastaion caught her attention.

      Intuitively she knew that the island that she had tried to book a flight to while she was on a Heathrow stop-over had been affected by the cyclone, and right then and there Dory made up her mind to go to the island on the pretext of helping the relief aid workers. In actuality she was merely curious ~ well, more than ‘merely’ curious, she was feeling the pull of an interesting probability choice.

      #1032
      F LoveF Love
      Participant

        Finnley looked appraisingly at her reflection in the mirroor of the staff toiloots. She turned her head, surveying herself from different angles. Sure, her hair was cut very short, but she had always thought it looked quite fetching and stylish, and so easy to care for.

        She turned over the empty cleaning bucket so she could stand on it to get a better view of her body in the mirroor. Perhaps the baggy blue cleaning dungaroos she wore were not the most flattering on her slim figure, yet incredibly practical nonetheless, with 6 large pockets. She had bought several pairs on special, so she could alternate them.

        That Elizabeth Tattler was clearly just one of the mindblown ones. Mad as Almad.

        And getting worse by the day!

        Perhaps it was just THAT time of the moonth, but for some reason Elizabeth’s insistence on referring to her as a male had really hurt Finnley today. Ever since she had attempted to help Elizabeth with the Island story by modifying the love scene , just slightly, Elizabeth had been intent on undermining Finnley’s sexooality. Not only that, she appeared to be fabricating Finnley’s involvement with the noovel she was writing. Just yesterday she had overheard Elizabeth telling her publisher, Bronkel, that Finnley was telepoothically implanting evil suggestions in her head.

        Finnley shook her head again, this time in bewilderment. For Foocks sake, someone should do something about that woman, before it is too late!

        Studying herself in the mirroor again she undid the top 3 buttons of the shirt she was wearing under her dungaroos and made a mental note to buy a poosh-up bra after work today. She mussed her hair up in what she hoped was a sexy look and made her way to clean the computer gooks office.

        #1027

        She was the first to notice.

        First there was a loud bang, that she perceived as a shock wave rippling all around.

        Then, she felt a strange flabby thing with bat arms fall into the ocean, while the other energy was coming their ways. “Wow,” she couldn’t help but think; “they’re having unusual nightly activities around for such a small isolated island.”

        The dog resting by the fire got alerted then, and tried to wake up the others. But apparently, they seemed oblivious to it.

        Then, something stranger happened. The small white rabbit started to talk, as if it had been aware all along.
        “It’ll take a while for him to see you again Kay, just don’t yap like a silly dog… Besides, you’ll disturb our guests”
        “Guests?” the dog answered back.

        The moment after, the rabbit had disappeared from the girl’s lap, and was standing between her and the dog.
        “Welcome, Balbina”, he told her.

        “How do you know my name?” she was aghast, unable to say if it was for the talking rabbit, or for the fact it knew her name.
        Unperturbed, it continued “It’s a busy night. There are lots of things happening, and we hope you’ll stick around. It may be helpful for our friends here.”
        “Er… why not… I mean, yes, sure. And you are?”
        “Yuki, at your service. I’m not really a rabbit of course, but that form is convenient”
        “And cute too…” she said tentatively
        “Thank you”

        Balbina had never thought a rabbit could blush, but she would have bet it was the closest thing to a blushing rabbit she had just witnessed.

        “Sorry to interrupt you,” Kay said, but who are the other guests?

        a shrilling voice came as an answer OOOOooohh a campfire! How cuty pooh! Wait till Sha and Glo see that, we could have some roasted marshmallows and pork chops! I’m feeling soooo hungry…”

        “Great… So much for our little secret expedition,” Claude sighed as he woke up.

        #1026

        The GPS was indicating that she was getting closer every minute. She was at less than 8 minutes as the crow flies from the island.
        She had to make a small detour to avoid the now less powerful but still dangerous cyclone Ycart, but all was under control.
        The night had fallen upon her like a bird of prey, and cloaked in the velvety shadows, she smiled, baring her teeth full of squashed mosquitoes.

        All absorbed by the blinking lights of the GPS, and her head full of the roar of the wind and the raging sea, she sadly didn’t notice the hydroplane coming from her left at full speed.
        The shock was brutal, and Madam Chesterhope got ejected from her motorbike which went with her alongside, spiraling down until crashed into the ocean.

        WHAT THE…!”

        :fleuron:

        We hit something! the distraught pilot shouted to Mahiliki.
        Drawing his knife again, thinking of how close he was now to dear sweet Vera, he shouted back “any damage? how close are we now?”
        “Seems OK, but what about the thing we hit?”
        “Bugger it! Move!”

        #1025

        Narsila was very close now, she was feeling more of her kind around, exchanging impressions and information about the area and the activities there. The storm was approaching and the humans were sheltering before its arrival.
        It was clear now that the storm was not of the usual kind. It was connected with a portal, and some in her group where creating a pyramidal action to facilitate its emergence. The sooner it will open, the softer the energy would be felt. If they waited too long, the portal could be more persistent, and it wasn’t desirable.

        #1020

        “HAHAHA! it is your first step now. Let me just remind you that you need not play MY game, the game is yours, ever.” said Georges. “The direction you follow is your choice, and where I come from is not relevant to this conversation.”

        Becky read the random daily quote and thought: What incredibly perfect timing!

        #1016

        “Wow, with all that babbling, the gap is closing…”
        “How long now?”
        “Five hours till it’s 8:08 on the international date line…”

        “Just hope we won’t get blank for the last comment, after all that training…” ;))

        #1011

        A Pacific island then… she thought

        Let’s move there…
        She could feel her ghost body hover, like a feather sucked into a whirlwind.
        She had to be confident she’ll snap back right at her lying body when she’ll be over with the trip.
        Trust that everything will be okay. As it always were. Will always be.

        She could see the Earth from above… The Pacific Ocean, its huge vastness, delimited by coasts of lights.

        Oh, of course, she had not thought of that, but it was night there. She could see towns, concentrations of which were twinkling like shiny stars on a dark sky; but she didn’t want towns. Far too crowded, lots of energies that were maybe intoxicating at first, but she could feel she would be worn out in a second.
        For, as she traveled in spirit, she had access to so much more information than people usually get with their physical senses alone,… it was hard to explain.

        There… in that dark patch, when she moves closer, she can feel the immensity of the ocean surrounding everywhere. She moves closer to that long island that must be New Zealand, because she doesn’t want to be far from any sort of indication of her location. Keeping an eye on this, she spots something which isn’t a city light. It’s dancing, like a fire.
        How can she spot a fire at that distance is beyond her understanding, but she has learned not to question, and act upon her impulses.

        She wills herself at the fire.

        Waves, the peaceful sound of the waves.

        Around the fire, she can see a dog, crouched near a thoughtful man; there’s a young girl too, with a little white rabbit in her lap. The girl’s parents are resting in a hug, and a man with a strange energy configuration, the like of which she hasn’t seen, is closing the circle.

        What a bunch of interesting people…

        #1010

        She was squatting on the sand beach, near the now calm ocean. The light was so dim that she barely could see the devastation, shards of coconut and palm trees spread on the shore, but the sound of the ocean was soothing.

        Aaah she had hold that pee for too long.

        “MAaaAVIS!” That suave authoritative voice must have been Sha’s.
        “COooOMING!” Tsk. One can’t have a pee alone…

        While she was readjusting her two pieces bath suit, ready to come back to the improvised discotheque, her attention was caught by something on the beach. A fire?
        She squinted her little beady eyes to discard any of the hallucinatory visions that sometimes she had.

        “MA-VIS!”
        BLODDY COMIN’!” a hint of exasperation. “Mrs Sharon Stone, you ain’t the queen here” she thought. “I can go look for adventure meself, if I want to”.
        Besides, the fire didn’t seem to be too far away.

        :fleuron:

        With the darkness that made very difficult their progress, Akita had made them stop near the shore, where they would see any trouble coming and had ordered the small troop to collect twigs and bits of wood to light a fire.
        The parents were still in a bit of a shock, and were staying with a blank gaze, looking with an air of wildness at the soothing sound of the waves. Anita was playing nearby, drawing things in the sand, muttering words to herself.
        That was a good thing that Claude was there. Unlike the others, he seemed quite strong, and the adventure didn’t seem to have left him short of resources.
        He had been on the island before, and had said they had to avoid the constructions, which were all owned by the same people.
        For all that mattered, Akita wanted to get to the authorities as soon as possible, but he had to compromise: they would settle close enough to have a check around and see if it would be safe to go there.

        In a minute, Claude had been roaming through the woods and had gathered a pile of wood. That guy was pretty amazing, Akita was thinking. Odd that he had retained his supernatural strength… At least, Akita had imagined that the guy’s strength was the result of the spider exposure, but now he started to doubt it. He had been sketchy to say the least around the circumstances of his presence.
        As far as he himself was concerned, Akita wished he had retained somewhere his connection to Kay, wherever his spirit dog was. What the creature had said? That veils were thicker, but not impermeable… Or something around that.

        I think they’re still hanging around

        What? What did you say? But Anita didn’t answer. Perhaps his tired mind was imagining things.

        With all that rain soaked wood, it would be difficult to get anything but smoke.

        I’ve got a lighter Claude handed him an expensive ziraf that flashed moon reflection in his eyes.

        Let’s get started then.

        :fleuron:

        What now?

        A roaring sound of a flying thing startled Mavis, passing over her head.

        Mmm… this island’s getting too crowded, me think. Must be another of Vessie’s guests… That gal sure’s got how to use her sex-apple.”

        #1004
        TracyTracy
        Participant

          Becky was undecided. Add to the last entry? Or start another? Grinning wickedly, she started another.

          Her second impulse selection was a slightly late coincidence, but a coincidence notwithstanding. It was about Sand Dragons . A Few days previously Becky had been to an auction. She bid for and won a first edition copy of Wisp magazine; it had cost her an arm and a leg, but she was delighted with her purchase. It would increase in value, and was a delight to read some of the first published articles of the many authors, poets, artists and photographers who would later become famous. The article about sand sculptures had reminded her of the T.R.A.P. day out.

          Well, how about that! exclaimed Becky, reading the rest of the comment. Wish House is one of my most favourites, and I chose it by accident!

          She read:

          “Illi used to play a game with Cranky (as she affectionately called nanny Chraddock) in the long months while her parents were away, called Wish House. Every room in the sprawling Elizabethan house was a different time and place, and the moment they entered the room they imagined themselves to be different people, in other times. Petunia Duster the maid loved to join in too; consequently not alot of housework got done, but with Gus and Flora always off travelling, nobody minded. Playing was, after all, so much more important than dust. In fact, a thick layer of dust made the rooms all the more mysterious and magical.”

          Becky ran her finger along the dust on her desk and smiled.

          OH! Becky jumped. I almost forgot to make a note of the number, now what was it? she mused, scratching her head. I think it was 171 :notepad:

          Becky wondered whether or not to start another entry. Intuitively, she chose not to. Her third random choice was another synchronicity with the first edition of Wisp: it was about pyramids in Spain. The first edition of Wisp magazine was particularly valuable as it was the first mention in print of the discovery of the Iberian pyramid culture.

          Number 835 she noted :notepad:

          #1003
          TracyTracy
          Participant

            Well, what a coincidence! exclaimed Becky. Becky was choosing her I Ching story comments, not altogether sure (not in the least sure, really) how it worked, but enjoying the opportunity to do a few random impulse searches. She had been reading the blog archives of Stilly from the early part of the century, all about cactus, beetles, and the investigation into the cochineal trade, when she suddenly remembered the Reality Play deadline. Anticipating buckling down to some serious writing, Becky was delighted to find the I Ching game, and made her first random choice.

            Well, what a coincidence! Becky repeated. It’s all about beetles!

            Becky made a note of the number: 638. :notepad:

            #994

            Hopefully, Al was not one to judge a work by the time it takes to produce.
            Actually, he was remembering a tale he’s been telling Sam no so long ago, about a Chinese painter who took years of training to be able to execute a painting in a single most perfect stroke. Only thing was that the Prince who had ordered him to paint this was offended when he saw him arrive empty-handed and drawing on the spot in what seemed the most easy, flowing movement that single painting, while he had been provided time and resources to the painter for so long. He had him executed, only for his servants to discover later that the painter’s house was full of tons of sketches.
            It is all a work of art, dear Tina…

            Now, I get that you have found your favourite entries.
            Yes, entry number 2 .
            Okay
            Then, the one where Fiona changes her name to Finn, that has to be a significant one; that is 151
            Fine
            And 223 , when Arona gets given Yikesy

            Al pondered for a moment…

            #985

            The door of the garage opened with a creaking sound, and Madame Chesterhope sped up into the gritty alley.
            In that dimension where she had hidden her command base, people were a bit sloppy about roads and tarmac, so she had designed a little modification on her machines to be able to levitate in some of the less practical areas; but she had to admit,… she loved the vibrations and bumps that the motorbike created with the friction of the ground surface.
            She started to giggle, all enthusiastic about the speed and the wind in her hair, that she ignored the road sign indicating that the road was flooded some miles ahead. The rain had been pouring cabbages all past hexades, so much so that her leather suit was in all honesty the best thing she could have worn, not to mention the fact of course, that it was making her totally sexy.
            Two peasants were coming her way, looking at her with wild eyes like they had just seen something otherworldly. Ahahah she laughed, the fools would soon have forgotten everything about it (another handy and sly magical modification she nodded to herself). Looking in her rear mirror, she could still see them wiggle their hands in a frenzy… What the fl…!

            :fleuron:

            On the road, the two peasants wondered what in the name of Shaint Lejus was that rider… But worse, it was heading straight to the pool that the swollen river had made recently, outpouring on fields and little sniggly and thorny paths, like this one. Making desperate signs to be seen and warn it, they watched in horror the black podgy thing with flabby flapping schpurniatz arms sink straight to the bottom of the pool.

            :fleuron:

            The landing was a bit bumpy, but she found her balance quickly. Those transdimensional puddles were a bit rough to get accustomed to, but once you knew how to manipulate it, you couldn’t forget it.
            Now, all she needed to got to the location she was heading to was to hop through a few more transdimensional puddles.
            Actually, all sorts of puddles could do the job, water puddles, even oil puddles… or run-over poodle puddles for that matter. She preferred water ones, for the quality of water was very fluid, and allowed for easier defocusing. Lately she had tried transdimensional exhaust fumes clouddles, but that was a bit disorienting more than helping.
            As far as she could tell, this first one had been projecting her to a dimension in between Earth and the Duane. Incorporating vibrational qualities of the two, with a little more rigidity though. The machine needed a little time to stabilize and get prepared for the next transdimensional jump.
            As far as she could tell, she was in a place that was not unlike her birthplace, in the countryside of England. There were occasionally some giveaways that she still wasn’t quite there yet, like an erratic flying schpurniatz, but she was close now.
            A few meters in front of her, she could see a lovely puddle that could do for the next jump. A bit small for her… well, motorbike, what were you thinking… but that would probably do it. She took another breath, then pushed the TDPP (Trans-Dimensional Puddle Propeller) button.

            :fleuron:

            Flof-flof-flof-flof…
            Bugger, bugger…. What the bloody heck!

            Straw was flying all over her hair, and obfuscating her vision… Darn last puddle had to much mud in it, and her concentration went off for a split second, heading her towards a field of barley.
            Turning round and round for a moment in complete disorientation, she finally pushed the levitation button to take a little altitude.
            Oh, now,… at least she could tell she was in England, because she knew that place.
            How perfect! She could now just move into the dimension to the Pacific island. The GPS included in the modern expensive motorbike had been bipping as soon as it had found again the satellites, and it was now pointing the direction.
            Giggling again, she pushed a new button and disappeared into the sky in a supersonic puff of smoke.

            :fleuron:

            a few days later, Chestershire, UK

            AFP - 2008-07-21 - An new amazing design has been reported by eye-witnesses
            on a crop of barley of a local farmer along with reports of strange booming sounds
            and orbs of light. A sight to behold, the delicate intricacy of these interwoven
            patterns is believed by many to be the work of the Crop-circle Makers, some
            alien intelligence desiring to communicate with us. The theme of this crop-circle
            is thought to be a variation on planet Venus cycles, and would be highlighting
            the number of cycles lefts until the notorious end-date of Mayan calendar,
            Dec. 21st 2012. Scientists have brushed off the allegations of elderly pranksters,
            as this one seemed to have required levels of astronomical knowledge far beyond
            human intelligence.
            #983

            Madame Chesterhope went to the garage, to get one of her preferred modes of transportation.
            She had dressed for the occasion in black leather, shouting a spell in a hurry to the mirror which had been flippantly reflecting back at her some awfully podgy image. Voodoo mirrors weren’t the quality they used to be these days. Bloody buggers of Goblinkeas manufactors… She would have a word with them soon.

            There it was. A shiny Farley Travinston motorbike.
            With some magical modifications, of course, but it had retained overall form and purpose closely similar to the original design. How she loved those machines! She had started to gather them for centuries (in Earth way of counting time), and she could still remember her very first one, the wreck it was compared to this one
            Of course, she had no use for them, but wasn’t that the point of decadent treasure piling up?

            All geared up, she hopped on the seat, and started the trans-dimensional engine. Where was it already? Pacific island… That could sound like vacations she smiled to herself…

            #973

            It’s been now a few months Malvina had relocated the cave to a new place and she’d been starting to reunite with her sisters in unexpected ways.

            But now, she was longing for something more. She wanted to find someone with whom to share more. To reflect the outpurring love.
            Leormn was smiling as he reached for her inner dialogue. Ever since Georges and Salome had brought them to this new place, the dynamic had changed, and there were new adventures showing up.

            #970

            When Veranassessee entered the room, looking for the guests, she was startled to discover the awful mess.

            At first, she thought the cyclone Ycart may have been doing the wreckage, but soon she found out that no wall was gone, so it was obviously coming from inside the facility.

            What the…

            The super-calculator computer had been torn apart, and the electronic insides spread out everywhere.
            The Confregration would be furious that all was left of their precious asset they entrusted the mad (mmm, mentally challenged) doctor to carry out his insane (err… unusual) experiments was a big pile of unworkable chunks.
            She was thinking of how she could cover up that mess… given that the doctor was still probably reeling in frilly suspenders and silky dresses, she had time to clean up a bit. The Doc would probably won’t notice a difference, as megalomaniac as he was, he wouldn’t admit that a great part of his strides in his researches on spider genome were coming from the super-calculator…
            That nose of a b… nurse Bellamy was probably cleaning up his drool, so she might have enough time to act.

            Pushing aside a few coconuts, Veranassessee backed away suddenly…

            A trail of purple blood now?

            #966
            ÉricÉric
            Keymaster

              Sure aliens… Why not aliens? Becky said with a funny maniac laughter that sent chills through Tina’s back.
              After all, we’ve been talking to dead people for so long, we’ve forgotten all about alien lives… I want to believe!

              Well, Tina shrugged in complete abandon, I suppose that would not be your last eccentricity after all… But now that Al starts to believe such utter nonsense is beyond my understanding. I think I need to get more sleep too.
              See you tomorrow, and have fun with your rugrats darling pooh… she said with a sugary smile while closing the videoconf window.

              Phew… Becky sighed, with an anxious side glance at the silent cradles that may not stay silent much longer.

              The rugrats have names you know Tina, she said, more to herself than to the benefit of anyone else.
              And hell if I remember what they are now…

              #964

              Tina, don’t listen, she’s only a clone!

              AHAHAHAH, now that’s Dory calling us delusional, see Finn…
              I told you she’s a mad woman, believing all
              that stuff about ancient pyramids in Spain ahahaha

              I’m not schizophrenic, no no!

              And now she only speaks about that Wrick she’s just met…

              STOP THE VOICES IN MY HEAD!

              :fleuron:

              Focus on what you KNOW, BE in the NOW

              ~ I AM ~

              I KNOW I am more than what I appear to be.
              I KNOW it is all One Experience.
              I KNOW I don’t need to know everything, and if I do, information will appear.

              ~ I KNOW I AM ~

              #961

              Much to Arona’s surprise…

              Although I don’t know why I am continually surprised, she thought, surely I am getting used to this weirdo story by now.

              Well anyway, Arona found herself standing outside of Malvina’s cave. She was still so caught up in the last warm remnants of her delightful reverie in the field of flowers it took her a few moments to realise that the entrance to the cave had disappeared and was now a solid wall of stone.

              Hmmmm, yes, said Leormn, appearing in the nick of time to answer her unspoken question, Yes, Malvina has been shifting things around again.

              I can’t get in though! complained the ever astute Arona.

              No, agreed Leormn reflectively, you can’t. Well there is another entrance, but this has only been disclosed to an elite few. He smiled smugly.

              #960

              New Venice, July, 1 st 2035

              The night was hot in New Venice at this time of the year. The weather patterns had been steadily shifting for many years, and the climate was now sub-tropical in the inundated Big Apple, as more and more people resented the usual coldness of winters, and had subjectively agreed upon a heightening of the temperatures of a few degrees.

              Though accustomed to tell his body to relax, and vibrate at a lower frequency to counteract the sticky and displeasing effects of the heat, Al was finding sleep hard to find. Usually, he would attribute those moments of twitching slumberness to mass accessing of subjective information and bringing them to the objective. With the eclipse that would occur in the next weeks, those were still time of great cosmic synchronistic congruence.

              Needless to say, he and Tina had been somewhat stirred by Becky’s sudden casualness, and relative abandon not only of the Reality Play but also of her three lovely first born to her friends.
              People of that mysterious facility that Becky had briefly spoken so highly of had been doing a fantastic job, considering the very early birth, but still, Al had soon noticed the babies were displaying some kind of emotionless state which was eerie to observe in children that young. He had first thought of a remnant from the birth trauma, but it appeared that they were all perfectly aware, and even more than that, accutely aware of their environment to the point of displaying qualities of awareness akin to telepathy or pre-sentience.

              Sam’s innate talent with the young ones had been very beneficial to them, and Al was hoping, would help them access their emotional communications as a guidance system to navigate within the immense and potentially overwhelming quantity of subjective information they were given such an easy access to.

              Finally after having spent so much time before the cyputer, Al was collapsing from tiredness. He threw himself on the tatami for a healthy dose of rejuvenating sleep. Or so he thought…

              :fleuron:

              Al woke up with a chill, sweat beading over his eyebrow.
              He remembered.
              They would come… Hybrids from their future… He remembered having met one a few years ago.
              A strange bald guy with piercing eyes and strange snorting twitches on his face. One moment he was talking to him in the middle of the ramp waiting for a condocab, and the moment after, he had forgotten all of this encounter.
              The guy had said intently to wait for the time when the Dream would remind them it was the Time of the Reunion.
              So what was next? Aliens coming in their aluminum flying saucepans making mosquito sounds?
              That sounded awfully like the outrageous rants that old Russian guy named Pasha was making years ago in the archives of Dory —which they had taken as a basis for their Reality Play…

              Gosh, that dream was so vivid, it couldn’t be a coincidence… Especially since the first Hybrids to make contact all looked like they were clones of Becky!

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