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  • #3603
    ÉricÉric
    Keymaster

      “Oh shut up Liz, and finish your curry. Wasn’t it your brilliant idea to have Indian food before the court audition?”
      Godfrey smiled a painful smile eating with teary eyes a last spoonful of spicy butter chicken, thinking about Liz feeling the energy and enjoyment in the loo the next day.

      #3488

      “How very strange” said Igor, when they eventually reached the waterfall.
      “What?” asked Mirabelle, who was paying more attention to the parrot perched on her shoulder. She tickled him under the chin. “Who’s a pretty boy then? muah muah muah pretty parrot, where have you been?”
      Igor rolled his eyes at the kissing noises. “Look!” he said, pointing at the waterfall.
      “It’s a fucking waterfall, yes, I see it!” snapped Mirabelle. Finding Huhu had distracted her from the discomfort of hunger, thirst and an aching body, but Igor’s questions brought her back to the reality of their situation.
      Then it dawned on her. The waterfall plummeted downwards, in a seemingly infinite series of cascades and pools. It was impossible to see the bottom with the spray and mist, especially in the fading daylight.
      “But we are still at sea level, Igor! The waterfall should be going up, not down. I mean to say, we should be looking up at the waterfall flowing down. This isn’t making any sense. But look” she said, pointing to the first pool on the right. “There is a little hut there and some people. Fat people.” she added. “I bet they will have some food, let’s go and ask.”
      Igor stepped cautiously to the edge and and peered over, looking for a way down. He looked down, then looked back at the little stream they had followed from the sea, and then back down again.
      “This water is breaking all the rules!” he cried. “It’s flowing in both directions!”
      “Don’t be silly Igor, are you delirious? Everyone knows that water flows downhill towards the sea.”
      “See for yourself then, look!” he put a stick in the stream and they watched it flow gently back the way they had come, towards the bay. “Now watch,” he said, as he tossed another stick over the edge of the waterfall. It quickly disappeared from view as it rushed downwards, in the opposite direction.
      “Where is the source? Where is the water coming from?”
      “Those fat people might know. Have you found a way down yet?”
      It appeared that the only way down to the pool of the fat people was via the waterfall itself. There were sheer cliffs of malachite and rose quartz on either side of the waterfall as far as the eye could see.
      “I think we will have to go down the waterfall itself, Mirabelle.”
      She gasped and took an involuntary step back.
      “We will have to steer ourselves towards where we want to go, that’s all.”
      “Oh no, not me, if you think I’m going to just throw myself over a waterfall…Oh! Huhu come back!”
      The parrot flew down to the pool of the fat people, and settled on a banana tree, watching Mirabelle above looking down at him.
      “Fucking parrot,” muttered Mirabelle. “I’ll clip your wings when I catch hold of you, I swear I will. For your own fucking good! Well?” she said, turning to Igor. “Are you coming or what?” and she launched herself over the edge and into the waterfall, with one thought in her mind ~ the bloody parrot.
      With a great splash, she landed in the rose coloured pool, bobbing to the surface like a cork. Disgruntled silvery fish leaped out of the water, one of them landing on the barbecue. Mirabelle waded out of the pool, oblivious to the fish, and the looks of amazement on the faces of the fat people, and walked over to the banana tree.
      Huhu ripped a banana off a ripe yellow bunch and dropped it, squalking in delight as Mirabelle caught it in her hands. When Huhu saw that she was focused on peeling it and eating it, he fluttered down and perched on her shoulder. She gave the parrot the last bit of banana, and then turned her attention to the fat people and the barbecued fish.

      #3462

      “Fried rice, sweet and sour mixed vegetables, crispy Peking duck, please, and a side order of plum sauce,” said Jack into the telephone. It had taken so long to get Mirabelle and Igor to relax enough to teleport that he had forgotten all about food, and decided to order a Chinese takeaway.

      #3445

      “It’s been years since we ‘ad a bloody ‘oliday Glor, fancy a nice vacation somewhere?”
      Sharon and Gloria were watching a documentary about changing landscapes ~ lakes appearing in the desert, islands emerging out of the sea, giant holes appearing in the tundra, rivers coursing along new and unexpected routes and other such things that were appearing with increasing regularity. So much so, in fact, that there was enough material to have a weekly programme on the topic. It was Gloria and Sharon’s favourite show, and they always made a point of sitting down together to watch it.
      “Oooh I dunno, Shar, me back’s always playing up these days, what if I ‘ad a bad turn in some foreign place miles from anywhere?”
      Sharon nodded in sympathy. “I know what you mean, it’s like me and my night turns. I have to get up in the night and eat ice cream and walk about a bit, bit awkward when you’re away.”
      “Like me and my stomach” piped up Mavis, poking her head round the door.
      “What oh, our Mavis! Didn’t ‘ear you come in. How about you, fancy an ‘oliday?”
      “Wouldn’t dare, not with my stomach, I have to have special foods, and what if I had a trapped wind while I was in a strange place with nowhere to go?”
      “Listen to us!” shouted Sharon, suddenly standing up and glaring at her friends. “Just listen to us, will yer? What’s become of us!”
      “Age?” asked Mavis drily.
      “Are we washed up then, over the hill, is that it, is it? Too old for a bloody holiday? Well, I tell you, I’m not done yet, oh no! I’m going on a holiday, even if I have to go on my own!”
      “Calm down, Sha, bit emotional, int yer?”
      Sharon sank down onto the sofa again, and replied quietly, “I been thinking about it a lot just lately. Wondering where my get up and go went. We used to do so much more!” She looked imploringly at her friends. “We was always off galivanting and ‘aving adventures.”
      “Yeah, and remember what you said after the last one? Never again?” Mavis reminded her.
      “I think she’s right,” Gloria piped up. “I think we should give it a go. What’s the worst thing that could ‘appen? And what difference does it make where it ‘appens?”

      #3397
      TracyTracy
      Participant

        Jack gave Fluke a slap as he ran past and shouted at him, laying the law down about it reminding the dog that he was not allowed to leave the perimeter of the enclosure for his own safety, and for the peace of mind of his own responsibility guidelines, not to mention what Lisa would say if she found out when she got back from the island.

        As soon as Jack was finished laying the law down, he called Fluke over and gave him a big cuddle, not wanting to give him a reason to try and escape again.

        Still puzzling it over, Jack went back inside and resumed perusing his intercon. BREAKING NEWS!!! he read. ““Those who are still continuing in directions of control are expressing it louder and louder very similar to a screaming child trying to gain the parents attention after the parent has already expressed No.” Disengaged Global Authority On Everything Comments On Global Affairs.

        Well, that’s food for thought, thought Jack. I expect I can hamster wheel with that all day.

        #3285

        Secretly, Sadie had a beautifully laid out plan in her head, like a vacation plan with stop-overs at luxury hotels, and activities to entertain the children.
        That made her slightly miffed about the succession of sidetrack adventures and the lack of focus of her protégés.

        The plan was simple enough, they had to take the magical crystal from under the whale’s noses, and get back to the closest Time sewer, where they could funnel up (her fancy verb for “complete”) the special reboot edition of the Time Draggler’s show.

        Surprisingly, Linda Paul’s interest and instructions seemed to have weakened and her usually generous and unwarranted input have been inordinately limited. Maybe the summer heat wave had mollified her, or her projects had shifted since the pilot of the Time Draggler’s show had failed to grab the network’s attention and fulfil its promises.
        She couldn’t say. But something in what the techromancer told her had stuck, and she couldn’t quite shake it out. “A train will come for you, and you will have to catch it, this Time is your train.”
        The hell if she knew what Time that was anyway.
        But one thing was sure, this one-time gig was growing on her, and she didn’t want to get back to dog food tasting. So one way or another, she’d have to make it work, and move the drag’s lazy butts to make a heck of an entertaining show.

        “Look! I vink vey’re over vere!” Maurana was getting the gist of the telepathic conversation.

        It was lucky the interior of the cave was lit, as outside the night had fallen like a cold black carpet on a pack of dust bunnies, dropping the water’s temperature. Luckily, the suits seemed to have their own warming as well as glowing mechanism.

        Terry was over Consuela, who seemed unconscious and in a REM sleep.
        “Hey! Consuela learnt your eye rolling technique!” Maurana gleefully tuned towards Sadie.
        “Don’t be silly, I think he’s in shock, pass me that electric eel, to wake that bitch up.” Terry was always for a bit of drama. It seemed to do the trick.

        “Woah, you can’t believe the stuff I’ve seen…” Consuela’s pupils were dilated so much it was hard to see the whites of her eyes.

        “Classic case of red algae intoxication, no need to consult the ezapper for that” Sadie said. “It is known that dolphins use it as a shamanic tool to astral. The concentration in these waters is surprinsingly high. Nothing than some fresh water can’t cure.” Too much time under water, she started to babble like a fish.

        The Time window wouldn’t stay indefinitely open. She needed to get them move, and take back her authority. With children like them, one thing that worked was to shake some shiny stuff in front of them and let them follow it.
        “Anyone interested in a Whale Queen’s Race?”

        #3269

        Gliding through layers of consciousness, Belen carried her precious cargo of the Santa Maria and its birds towards her destination.
        There were various variations of the same 2222, and she carefully adjusted the course along the 202 years gap, so as to swim to her favourite version of it. It required much love work on her part, addressing, piecing and peacing off many parts of human consciousness, while at the same time tenderly caring for the memories stored with her immense ghost body.
        The 2020 version they had just left, she knew, was already on the proper track towards global enlightenment. There were still horrors, concerns and anxiety about the course of the future, but with a greater perspective, it looked like the positive actions were gaining momentum and leaning towards a brighter fuller and richer future.

        She could feel the Contact Crystal pulsate steadily and it opened her blowhole chakra. Blowing her mind, as it were.

        The Big Island was like a beacon, with the flows of lava rippling heatwave signatures in the ocean, and it didn’t take long to enter the stream that would lead them to the pod and the meeting point.

        As she sensed they’d arrived in 2222, and that they were floating on the surface of a calm ocean, she gently opened the energy bubble sealing the ghost and alive cargo of birds and vegetation, so they could breathe in the pure air and enjoy discovering around.

        Belen, look at you, not a ounce more of blubber since we last met! You ought to tell me how you keep so fit”
        “Batshatsassani!” Belen was pleased the see the great female orca who’d come to greet her.
        “Still with your entourage, it seems” her friend said without a hint of malice, blowing a few rings of bubbles around in a relaxed manner. “Let me accompany you to the ceremony.”
        “With great pleasure, dear. Rest assured, I won’t carry my entourage along for the time of the ceremony.”
        “It would have been cumbersome, no?” Oftentimes humour (and irony in particular) were a lost subtlety on the orca’s mind. Belen just smiled to answer, revealing a great range of ghostwhite perfect baleens.

        As they swam their way along the beautiful clear ocean, they were greeted by a pod of joyously rambunctious great dolphins, a good half size bigger than their common dolphins cousins she’d seen swimming near the coasts of Portugal. The leader of the pod was doing acrobatics to retrieve and play with a funny scarf made of colorful feathers. It was no surprise the dolphins were playing games, really. That or chasing food took the best of their time. But the scarf was the strangest thing Belen had seen in a long time and it triggered some kind of forgotten memory. Odd thing for her to not remember a memory, unless it was from another probable dimension… She followed the urge to ask.

        “Were did they get that?”
        “Oh, it’s nothing important… Four strange aquatic thingies went down earlier this morning, making a whole lot of noise around. They looked like one of those aliens, but so clumsy we thought they were probably sickly and left there to die by their tribe. The ‘phins took the fancy red gills from one of them.”
        “Are you serious? Are they OK?” Belen huge heart felt panicky at the thought of the small creatures left to die without help.
        “Of course they are, I knoooow we have to keep our reputation, you know. Where they are now, I’m not too sure. But the octopi from the camouflage squad are on it, following them. According to the last I know, the aliens have been lost for awhile in the underwater caves. When they’re exhausted, we’ll send them somewhere else… Can’t attract too much attention to ourselves, with the ceremony and all…”

        #3233
        F LoveF Love
        Participant

          Introducing Sadie Merrie (Queens Team and 2121 originated time-travellers)

          Sadie enters the story in 2121. She is a new graduate from the Happiness Training Academy.

          What can I tell you about Sadie?

          She used to work as a pet food taster before she entered the Academy. Now she works as a private contractor, currently contracted by Linda Paul to do time travelling missions.

          She has a bob haircut.

          Sadie is not particularly good at her job but she does try hard to put her happiness training into practical use.

          She may have a twin sister, who is yet to be introduced. I will keep you posted.

          Introducing Irina and Mr R the Robot (Management team)

          Irina enters the story in January 2222 in a rendezvous at a B&B with Sanso. The connection with Sanso is not quite clear.

          She is one of the elite class of that time period and leads a pampered life with many benefits. Irina, however, is under the control of the mysterious Management. Her mission when she is introduced in the story is to prevent the time travelling team (Sadie and the drag queens) from successfully completing their mission to retrieve the crystal.

          Irina has a robot called Mr R

          #3202

          The three maids waited in the balloon for most of the night, in increasing agitation. Mirabelle’s face was like thunder, imagining Igor ravishing the Breton wenches as they slept in their beds. As is often the case during a long tense wait in the black of night, the maids thoughts turned increasingly murderous, worry transposing to anger and thoughts of vengeance.
          The truth was that the Russians were having a great deal of difficulty finding any food. The peasants were starving and there was nothing to steal. Dreading returning to the balloon empty handed, they continued the fruitless search.
          Meanwhile Pseu was leisurely perusing ceramic tiles in the Locmaria quarter, unaware of the difficulties of the Russians.
          Eventually, the three men returned to the balloon, with nothing to show for their nights escapades. Mirabelle snorted derisively, resisting the urge to slap Igor.
          “It’s getting light” said Boris, “We really must leave now, food or no food. Let’s go!”
          The balloon rose just as the sun was casting a pinkish glow and the river mists were rising in ghostly wisps.

          ~~~

          Exhausted from lack of sleep, the occupants slept, taking turns to stay awake. Fanella was on the first watch, shivering and grumpy with hunger. Surreptitiously, she gobbled down a few foul tasting handfuls of lard. When it was Adeline’s turn to keep watch, she had a similar idea, and likewise swallowed some greasy globs of lard, thinking, as Fanella had done, that a few handfuls would not be missed. When the others took their turns on the watch, they also had similar ideas, erroneously assuming that nobody else had thought to do the same. By lunchtime, when they’d all had sufficient sleep, there was not a great deal of lard left. A dramatic and judgemental argument ensued with everyone accusing each other of monumental stupidity, but as Boris wisely pointed out, they were all equally to blame.
          “But we’re over the sea now, and we’re losing height!”
          Uh oh, said Pseu to herself. I can increase the wind speed to hurricane force, but that might be a bit too risky. Or I can allow the wind to resume it’s prevailing westerly course, but that wouldn’t help, they’d end up back where they came from and that would be catastrophic.
          “Perhaps I can help” whispered Belen telepathically. “If you think you can land the balloon on my decks.”
          It would be a tricky landing, but there was no other option. Quickly Pseu worked out the likely coordinates of the ultimate descent and beamed them to Belen.
          “The homing parrot will help” added Belen. “Follow the bird and adjust the wind direction accordingly.”

          #3186

          Sadie paused for a moment. She noticed with a little sadness how frequent her swearing and snapping had become. She felt as though she was reverting to an earlier version of herself, before all her happiness training, when she worked as a pet food tester. The company motto was “If you wouldn’t put it in your mouth, don’t expect your pet to!” Sadie had to test everything from doggy treats and chewy bones to disgusting wet globules of liver mixture. She shuddered, remembering the time she found the rat tail in the food she was trialling. Needless to say, her rampages of negativity were frequent back in those days.

          Get a grip, Sadie my girl. It doesn’t matter what time period you are in, the point of power is always NOW!

          Sadie did not realise she had spoken out loud, and was suddenly startled by a voice seeming to originate from behind the Virgin Mary.

          “Too fucking right!” shouted Sanso exuberantly. “No need for air balloons; your carriage awaits, milady! I’m afraid I couldn’t get the zebras at this short notice, but I think you will find the pacific singing frogs do the job quite satisfactorily. Of course,” he added proudly, “I did need to round up quite a few of them.”

          #3129

          Jean-Pierre Duroy, the Grand Intendant of the Palace of Versailles woke up every morning an hour before dawn, when everything was still calm, the last fêteurs of the guest nobility were, at last, fast asleep and the stars’ lights were beginning to fade on the dark sky. The Palace was never sleeping really, but this was as close a moment of peace as he could get.
          His wife Annie, the Head of the Royal Pastries Chefs, would usually sleep contentedly an hour more, waiting for the chantecler’s sonorous hail to the rising sun.

          When he realized he had overslept for the first time in many years of services, he knew there was something not quite right about this particular day.
          As usual, and especially during winter, there was much to be done. Preparing the routine menus for the noble tables, getting his army of little people bustling around to stock the fires with wood for the cold-fearing ladies, clean up, wash clothes, drapes and the darn mirrors. Receive the fresh foods from the local markets, clean up the latrines, which tended to get clogged with the dreaded cold… When that was done, he had to make sure the servants were doing their job properly, not abusing the generosity of His Majesty, taking good care of the Gardens, which was an horror when the snow started to melt, ensuring the guards reported to their duties, etc. etc.
          And after all that, no matter what, do a meticulous accounting in the Royal Ledger.
          Jean-Pierre was but a cog in that enormous machine, but a cog which could make a vital difference between a day gone right, and a day gone awfully wrong.

          He had to turn that day around quickly lest it would be the latter, he thought while putting his white starched breaches. A last look at his wife who was starting to move her weight around and yawn, and he was out.

          #3065
          TracyTracy
          Participant

            Sandy Costa had been making a note of all the sightings throughout the year, as well as noting a variety of other apparently unrelated incidents and clues, and he kept them all in imaginary basket. (breaking news: draft saved at 11: 11 again). The Case of the Missing Surge Team and Possible Connection to the Flurge was known for short as the Basket Case.
            Sandy was an unemployed channeler, although if you asked him to define himself in one sentence, that’s not what he would have said. He might not have known what to say, but he wouldn’t have said that. Not long after people had started growing their own food, producing their own energy, and writing their own books and magazines, everyone had started channeling their own mumbo jumbo, and Sandy was no longer in demand.
            The Basket Case had been keeping him occupied and entertained, and the clues were starting to pour in like rain into an old boot.
            Lisbon were expecting the arrival of some potentially interesting characters in the near future, from as far afield as Bangpie, and Caketown. There had been several cases of parallelitisis in Mari Fe’s village, a condition often associated with basket cases. There were whisperings through the sweet pea vines that there was something stirring in New Tartland, too.

            #3003
            ÉricÉric
            Keymaster

              The fourth-age interim authority of the Team had given new directives. They were clear enough. The new wave was in full bloom and required utmost attention, so all the operatives in action had to temporarily suspend their missions pending review.
              Madame Li, for instance, was again in the middle of a food and water scare surge in Shangpoon, where bloated floating glowing gloating piglets were found roaming freely in the river of the city’s main water supply. And that was the least of those she had to corner these days in the most populous city of the country.
              Simply enough, they were required to pay attention to what they paid attention and gave importance to… Which wouldn’t solve most of the surges, most of them had sniggered when they heard the speech.
              “Or are they suggesting we are the ones creating the surges to get a rush of adrenaline, maybe?” Skye sighed.
              A bit of unwanted leave in all this craziness wasn’t something they all were used to, especially under the previous management, but for all that was worth, they seemed to all relish a bit of pressure release.
              “Relish that, old horseradish,” Pearl said “now I’m pretty sure they did overdo that religious stuff…”

              #2994
              ÉricÉric
              Keymaster

                “You’ve fattened.” She had not yet set foot on land that Vera’s first comment to Lulla set the tone.
                Lulla threw the rest of the skewer in the bin, and managed a genial laughter. She was not one to take umbrage, much less to hold grudges. And although technically Vera was not right (she had managed to lose a stone since Fat Tuesday), she was still weighing a whooping 23 stone. Far from her 57 kg ideal weight. She laughed to herself at the thought that she was weighing more than two of her ideal self. That had to account for something.
                Relocating from the coast of Guyana where she was born to São Paulo had not been easy on her silhouette, as she liked to blame the greasy fast-food here. But at some point she had ceased to care, although such snarky remarks sometimes still managed to push her buttons.

                “Yes, I know, look at those leggings, the stripes have that effect on me.” she simpered with a wink that she was sure would annoy Vera no end. “So what are we doing here small Pohnpei, micro-Micronesia of all places anyway?” She asked, pushing her pocket-size folding Eggsway ahead of the curb, while Vera was strolling at her side, in long strides of her fine endless legs.
                “To do some cleaning, what else?”

                Lulla stopped her Eggsway to look with bewilderment at the stoical Vera.
                “Madam Vera Pappaloosa,” she said slowly, with a hint of concern in her voice. “I hope it’s not one of those messy jobs again that require to dress in funny smelly hot pink outfits that make us look like hot pink plastic bag ladies, and swim in it until you’ve lost two pants sizes by sweating them off?”
                “Oh, stop it Lulla. You guessed right, I suppose. But don’t worry, you can keep your hat on.”

                Lulla was ready to turn her heels, or rather her Eggsway’s wheels around, when she was surprised by Vera’s crystalline laughter. She was all the more surprised that she didn’t even know Vera was capable of laughter, being so expert at concealing her emotions.
                “I was just pulling your leg, we’re on a mission to find the next Pope.”

                #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.

                  #2893
                  ÉricÉric
                  Keymaster

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

                    #2869

                    In reply to: Tales of Tw’Elves

                    AvatarJib
                    Participant

                      Notwithstanding the child who was asking questions to his nanny just behind them, the flight to Taipei has been rather quiet. It was a three hours flight, quite short compared to the twelve hours ones Yann had been doing lately between Paris and Shanghai. Fortunately, the seats of the Dragoneer company were big enough, which was another strange element of these Chinese planes. Instead, the French Airways’ ones had narrow seats with so little room for one’s legs. He slept for most of the trip. Awoken merely when the flight attendant brought the food. Some rice dish again.

                      As soon as they landed, they were welcomed by a troup of taichi dancers, resembling Tahitian dancers with their loincloth. It was hot. The weather of course, not the taichi dancers who seemed unaffected by the temperature. Their slow movements were relaxing and a bit hypnotic. It was a contrast with the rapid dance of Tahiti Yann remembered from their last trip.

                      A woman in a red coat and sunglasses was walking behind them, looking around suspiciously.

                      #2868

                      In reply to: Tales of Tw’Elves

                      AvatarJib
                      Participant

                        The end of Being Veronica’s season four coincided strangely with the end of time day. She had eventually become a channeler. Still full of images and sounds of time travels, space projections and probabilities, Yann decided it was time for him to go fetch some Shanghainese food for the evening. They were going to Taipei for the week end with Yurick, meeting with an artist friend who’d promised to show them around.

                        Outside the air was chilly, it almost had that peculiar smell Yann associated with frost. When he first decided to come to Shanghai, it was with the secret hope it would be warmer than Paris, but currently it seemed to be as cold and chilly a city. At least, Taipei would feel a bit warmer, he thought with a misty sigh, the weather forecast announced at least 23°C. What better occasion for the beginning of the new timeline.

                        The store was not very far from the house, you just had to turn left at the corner and it was right here after the laundry service. It was a small shop, with only tangerins, oranges, a few apples and bananas. The shopekeeper and his wife greeted him. Yann was still feeling shy with the Chinese, mostly because he couldn’t speak their language yet. He’d begun taking lessons, but there was so much to learn. He smiled and quickly resumed his focus on the fruits. Some bananas were calling him, quite ripe actually. He hesitated, took them and almost put them in a plastic bag, but he noticed they were maybe too ripe, the skin was cracked in some areas and he could see the white flesh of the fruit turning brown. He nonchalently put them back on the stall as the shopekeeper was showing him the strawberries.

                        Yann smiled and he couldn’t remember how to say no, so instead he laughed and waved his hand in protest. The man didn’t insist and went back to the counter. He didn’t seem to be concerned by the end of time.

                        #1515

                        In reply to: Tales of Tw’Elves

                        benjaminbenjamin
                        Participant

                          Luigi’s arthritis was amassing to an all time extreme, and he was unsure if he could take anymore of the pain, when just then, and with amazing timing, a lady walked up to him asking if he wanted any arthritis ointment.

                          “Well yes… I could use some at this very instant.” Luigi said, as he pondered what sort of miracle occurred that would land him just what he needed, and in the very instant he needed it.

                          “Your welcome.” said Marsha. She smiled and began walking towards the nearest health foods store.

                          – – –

                          The sun was shining and the leaves were green, and Marsha was worried about her health. She had just been reading about all the horrid chemicals that big pharma puts into their ointments, and thought it would be better off if she simply gave away the ointment contained in her purse.

                          Just then she noticed an ugly looking man clutching his right hand. He was all bent over and wailing, and screaming absurdities.

                          “Aha!” she thought.

                          #2842

                          In reply to: Tales of Tw’Elves

                          TracyTracy
                          Participant

                            The enormous freshwater lakes that had formed on the new continent of Canaria during the land changes were attracting alot of visitors, and indeed many travellers displaced by upheavals in other locations. The largest of these lakes, named Lago Restinga in remembrance of the tiny coastal village of El Hierro which had been the first to see the emergence of the new land, was like a magnet, and people from all over the world flocked to its shores. Small communities emerged, exhibiting all manner of innovative building methods and materials and novel designs, including a number of floating dwellings upon the lake itself. The climate was perfect ~ very little rain and plenty of warm sunshine, but abundant fresh water. A previously unknown type of freshwater seaweed flourished in the lakes, which could be dried and ground into flour, or eaten fresh as a vegetable, and when boiled with bananas and left to set, made a deliciously sweet pudding. Miraculously, coffee shrubs had seeded themselves on the rolling slopes, and cannabis and tobacco plants, too. Never before had such an abundance and ease been experienced with regard to food, which was one of the major attractions of the freshwater lakes of the Canaria.

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