Search Results for 'give'

Forums Search Search Results for 'give'

Viewing 20 results - 261 through 280 (of 636 total)
  • Author
    Search Results
  • #4420
    F LoveF Love
    Participant

      As soon as the words had left her mouth, Lottie regretted them. She looked at Albie’s shocked, crestfallen face and knew she had been too harsh. Maybe she wasn’t cut out to be a writing mentor. It was a constant battle for her: should she be brutally honest and possibly save them years of misdirected effort or should she foster their creative spirit at all costs, even if it meant being dishonest? She sighed and tried to backtrack.

      “Look, Albie, there is some good stuff in here but it needs work … “

      “It’s okay,” Albie broke in quickly. “It’s fine. I knew I was no good … it’s fine. Thanks.” He gave an embarrassed laugh. “Mum has been on at me to do something since I lost my job so i thought … well, I thought I’d give writing a shot. Better stick to walking the dog, eh!”

      “Yes, you and Alex are a right pair, walking off the job like that.” Lottie shook her head, causing the thick reading glasses to slip down her long beaky nose. Lottie always wore black and she reminded Albie of a crow. He liked her though, which is why he had asked her to read his play.

      “Anyway what’s done is done.” Lottie continued. And then she hesitated for a moment, pushing the glasses back up her nose and looking down at the manuscript on the table in front of her as though weighing her words carefully before continuing. “Look, Albie, one thing I did notice in your writing was that there was a recurring theme. Perhaps your subconscious trying to tell you something. It often works like that.

      “The Doline thing?”

      “Yes,” said Lottie. “Something to think about anyway.”

      #4403
      F LoveF Love
      Participant

        random plot generator

        A BOOK SHOP – IT IS THE AFTERNOON AFTER ALBIE HIT HIS MOTHER WITH A FEATHER.

        Newly unemployed ALBIE is arguing with his friend JENNY RAMSBOTTOM. ALBIE tries to hug JENNY but she shakes him off angrily.

        ALBIE
        Please Jenny, don’t leave me.

        JENNY
        I’m sorry Albie, but I’m looking for somebody a bit more brave. Somebody who faces his fears head on, instead of running away. You hit your mother with a feather! You could have just talked to her!

        ALBIE
        I am such a person!

        JENNY
        I’m sorry, Albie. I just don’t feel excited by this relationship anymore.

        JENNY leaves and ALBIE sits down, looking defeated.

        Moments later, gentle sweet shop owner MR MATT HUMBLE barges in looking flustered.

        ALBIE
        Goodness, Matt! Is everything okay?

        MATT
        I’m afraid not.

        ALBIE
        What is it? Don’t keep me in suspense…

        MATT
        It’s … a hooligan … I saw an evil hooligan frighten a bunch of elderly ladies!

        ALBIE
        Defenseless elderly ladies?

        MATT
        Yes, defenseless elderly ladies!

        ALBIE
        Bloomin’ heck, Matt! We’ve got to do something.

        MATT
        I agree, but I wouldn’t know where to start.

        ALBIE
        You can start by telling me where this happened.

        MATT
        I was…
        MATT fans himself and begins to wheeze.

        ALBIE
        Focus Matt, focus! Where did it happen?

        MATT
        The Library! That’s right – the Library!

        ALBIE springs up and begins to run.

        EXT. A ROADCONTINUOUS

        ALBIE rushes along the street, followed by MATT. They take a short cut through some back gardens, jumping fences along the way.

        INT. A LIBRARYSHORTLY AFTER

        ROGER BLUNDER a forgetful hooligan terrorises two elderly ladies.

        ALBIE, closely followed by MATT, rushes towards ROGER, but suddenly stops in his tracks.

        MATT
        What is is? What’s the matter?

        ALBIE
        That’s not just any old hooligan, that’s Roger Blunder!

        MATT
        Who’s Roger Blunder?

        ALBIE
        Who’s Roger Blunder? Who’s Roger Blunder? Only the most forgetful hooligan in the universe!

        MATT
        Blinkin’ knickers, Albie! We’re going to need some help if we’re going to stop the most forgetful hooligan in the universe!

        ALBIE
        You can say that again.

        MATT
        Blinkin’ knickers, Albie! We’re going to need some help if we’re going to stop the most forgetful hooligan in the universe!

        ALBIE
        I’m going to need candlesticks, lots of candlesticks.

        Roger turns and sees Albie and Matt. He grins an evil grin.

        ROGER
        Albie Jones, we meet again!

        MATT
        You’ve met?

        ALBIE
        Yes. It was a long, long time ago…

        EXT. A PARKBACK IN TIME

        A young ALBIE is sitting in a park listening to some trance music, when suddenly a dark shadow casts over him.

        He looks up and sees ROGER. He takes off his headphones.

        ROGER
        Would you like some wine gums?

        ALBIE’s eyes light up, but then he studies ROGER more closely, and looks uneasy.

        ALBIE
        I don’t know, you look kind of forgetful.

        ROGER
        Me? No. I’m not forgetful. I’m the least forgetful hooligan in the world.

        ALBIE
        Wait, you’re a hooligan?

        ALBIE runs away, screaming.

        INT. A LIBRARYPRESENT DAY

        ROGER
        You were a coward then, and you are a coward now.

        MATT
        (To ALBIE) You ran away?
        ALBIE
        (To MATT) I was a young child. What was I supposed to do?
        ALBIE turns to ROGER.

        ALBIE
        I may have run away from you then, but I won’t run away this time!
        ALBIE runs away.

        He turns back and shouts.

        ALBIE
        I mean, I am running away, but I’ll be back – with candlesticks.

        ROGER
        I’m not scared of you.

        ALBIE
        You should be.

        INT. A SWEET SHOPLATER THAT DAY

        ALBIE and MATT walk around searching for something.

        ALBIE
        I feel sure I left my candlesticks somewhere around here.

        MATT
        Are you sure? It does seem like an odd place to keep deadly candlesticks.

        ALBIE
        You know nothing Matt Humble.

        MATT
        We’ve been searching for ages. I really don’t think they’re here.

        Suddenly, ROGER appears, holding a pair of candlesticks.

        ROGER
        Looking for something?

        MATT
        Crikey, Albie, he’s got your candlesticks.

        ALBIE
        Tell me something I don’t already know!

        MATT
        The earth’s circumference at the equator is about 40,075 km.

        ALBIE
        I know that already!

        MATT
        I’m afraid of dust.

        ROGER
        (appalled) Dude!

        While ROGER is looking at MATT with disgust, ALBIE lunges forward and grabs his deadly candlesticks. He wields them, triumphantly.

        ALBIE
        Prepare to die, you forgetful aubergine!

        ROGER
        No please! All I did was frighten a bunch of elderly ladies!

        JENNY enters, unseen by any of the others.

        ALBIE
        I cannot tolerate that kind of behaviour! Those elderly ladies were defenceless! Well now they have a defender – and that’s me! Albie Jones defender of innocent elderly ladies.

        ROGER
        Don’t hurt me! Please!

        ALBIE
        Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t use these candlesticks on you right away!

        ROGER
        Because Albie, I am your father.

        ALBIE looks stunned for a few moments, but then collects himself.

        ALBIE
        No you’re not!

        ROGER
        Ah well, it had to be worth a try.

        ROGER tries to grab the candlesticks but ALBIE dodges out of the way.

        ALBIE
        Who’s the daddy now? Huh? Huh?

        Unexpectedly, ROGER slumps to the ground.

        MATT
        Did he just faint?

        ALBIE
        I think so. Well that’s disappointing. I was rather hoping for a more dramatic conclusion, involving my deadly candlesticks.

        ALBIE crouches over ROGER’s body.

        MATT
        Be careful, Albie. It could be a trick.

        ALBIE
        No, it’s not a trick. It appears that… It would seem… Roger Blunder is dead!

        ALBIE
        What?

        ALBIE
        Yes, it appears that I scared him to death.

        MATT claps his hands.

        MATT
        So your candlesticks did save the day, after all.

        JENNY steps forward.

        JENNY
        Is it true? Did you kill the forgetful hooligan?

        ALBIE
        Jenny how long have you been…?

        JENNY puts her arm around ALBIE.

        JENNY
        Long enough.

        ALBIE
        Then you saw it for yourself. I killed Roger Blunder.

        JENNY
        Then the elderly ladies are safe?

        ALBIE
        It does seem that way!

        A crowd of vulnerable elderly ladies enter, looking relived.

        JENNY
        You are their hero.

        The elderly ladies bow to ALBIE.

        ALBIE
        There is no need to bow to me. I seek no worship. The knowledge that Roger Blunder will never frighten elderly ladies ever again, is enough for me.

        JENNY
        You are humble as well as brave! And I think that makes up for hitting your mother with a feather. It does in my opinion!

        One of the elderly ladies passes ALBIE a healing ring

        JENNY
        I think they want you to have it, as a symbol of their gratitude.

        ALBIE
        I couldn’t possibly.
        Pause.

        ALBIE
        Well, if you insist. It could come in handy when I go to the Doline tomorrow. With my friend Matt. It is dangerous and only for brave people and a healing ring could come in handy.

        ALBIE takes the ring.

        ALBIE
        Thank you.
        The elderly ladies bow their heads once more, and leave.

        ALBIE turns to JENNY.

        ALBIE
        Does this mean you want me back?

        JENNY
        Oh, Albie, of course I want you back!
        ALBIE smiles for a few seconds, but then looks defiant.

        ALBIE
        Well you can’t have me.

        JENNY
        WHAT?

        ALBIE
        You had no faith in me. You had to see my scare a hooligan to death before you would believe in me. I don’t want a lover like that. And I am going to the Doline and I may not be back!

        JENNY
        But…

        ALBIE
        Please leave. I want to spend time with the one person who stayed with me through thick and thin – my best friend, Matt.

        MATT grins.

        JENNY
        But…

        MATT
        You heard the gentleman. Now be off with you. Skidaddle! Shoo!

        JENNY
        Albie?

        ALBIE
        I’m sorry Jenny, but I think you should skidaddle.
        JENNY leaves.

        MATT turns to ALBIE.

        MATT
        Did you mean that? You know … that I’m your best friend?

        ALBIE
        Of course you are!
        The two walk off arm in arm.

        Suddenly MATT stops.

        MATT
        When I said I’m afraid of dust, you know I was just trying to distract the hooligan don’t you?

        #4401
        TracyTracy
        Participant

          Aunt Idle:

          Amazing how you can change your mind about things in the twinkling of an eye, and as I said to Bert (when he’d come down off those mushrooms or whatever was in those brownies that passing hippy gave him on the way to the guru camp over at the old copperworks place), I said to Bert, Bert I said, if you own the place lock stock and barrel, our financial worries are over. He said don’t be daft, you can’t eat the windows and doors, and what about all these dogs to feed, they can’t eat wooden beams, and I said, no listen Bert, I’ve had an idea. We don’t like banks, that’s true, and we don’t like debts, but why stand on principle and shoot yourself in the foot, I said, and I’ve heard about this thing with old people like us, that you can get the bank to give you loads of cash, and you don’t even have to pay them back until after you’re dead, and then he said, don’t be daft, how can you pay them back when you’re dead and I said Exactly, Bert! This is the beauty of it, and who knows if there will even be any more banks by the time we kick the bucket anyway, why not have our cake now and eat it, that’s what I said to Bert. And so he says, Well go on then, tell me why the bank would give us cash an I told him that they give you money because you own a house, and then when you snuff it, they have their money back. So Bert says, Yeah but they take far too much money, it’s another bank scam! And I said, Who the fuck cares, if we get the cash now when we need it? And then he said, Yeah, but what about the kids? I was gonna leave it to the kids, and I said, and I’ll be quite frank here, Fuck the kids! Who in the hell knows what the future will be like for the kids, and I told him straight: You can’t plan you’re own future, let alone trying to plan the kid’s future. Now is what matters, and right now, I need a new camera, and I need to get those tax hounds off my back. Then Bert started to smile and said, Hey, I could get me them new false teeth.

          #4381
          Jib
          Participant

            Liz’s smile melted away when Roberto entered the living room, he was covered in dust and spider webs. What flustered her most wasn’t the trail of dirt and insects the gardener was leaving behind him, but that he was not in India.

            Liz threw knives at Godfrey with her eyes, a useful skill she had developed during her (long) spare time, but he dodged them easily and they sank straight into the wall with a thud.
            Finnley rolled her eyes and ordered one of the guy from the TV crew to take the knives off the wall. “Don’t forget to repaint afterward”, she said with a satisfied smile.

            Godfrey leaned closer to the door. Liz felt words of frustration gather at her lips.

            “I think I slept too much long,” Roberto said with his charming latino accent. At that time, Liz could almost forgive him not to be in India. “Funny thing is I dreamt I was doing yoga in India, near Colombo.”

            Godfrey raised his eyebrows and gave Liz a meaningful look, telling he had been almost right all along. He relaxed and smirked. She hated it.

            “Well, that must be a clue”, Liz said with a look at the butler. “Godfrey, Roberto needs to be in India, and we need to go with him. Book the plane tickets.”

            “Well, technically, Colombo is in Sri Lanka, not India,” said Finnley.
            “Small detail,” countered Liz.

            “What do I do with the knives?” said the TV crew man.
            Liz looked at the knives, then at Godfrey.
            “I’ll take them back, they can always be useful where we are going.”

            “What about the interview?” asked the woman from the TV.
            “We’ll need a charter,” said Finnley who liked very much to give orders.

            #4371
            TracyTracy
            Participant

              “Oh, I almost forgot to give you this,” added Finnley, presenting Liz with a packet of cotton wool. “It’s to put in your ear while you’re in the foetal position, like the statue.”

              “How did such a large statue come out of such a small packet?” Liz asked, wonderingly.

              “Never question the mystical wonders of the great ascended master. Just place the cotton wool in your ear as instructed by the Great Lord of Kale.”

              #4363

              The rain stopped as suddenly as it had begun.

              Margoritt showed Glynis to a small area, partitioned off from the main room; a narrow bed, a tiny window to the outside and and a simple wooden shelf.

              “You’ll be wanting some privacy,” she said. “And something dry to wear,” she added, handing Glynis a dress, plain in shape and made from a soft woven fabric, pearly spheres woven into a dark purple background.

              The second person to give me something to wear, she mused.

              The fabric was amazing. It made Glynis think of stars at night and the way you could never see to the end of the sky. It felt both reassuring and terrifying all at the same time.

              There is magic in the hands that wove this, she thought, hesitant though to voice her thoughts to Margoritt, however kindly she seemed.

              “A master weaver has made this!” she said instead. “Was it you?”

              “No, not I … but you are right, it was made by a master … as you can no doubt see, it doesn’t fit me any longer. I’ve had it sitting there going to waste for many years and am glad to put it to use. It doesn’t cover your head like the other did, but really there is no need here.” Margoritt smiled. “Go, get changed. Come out when you are ready and I will have some tea and cake for you. Then you can meet the others properly.”

              “Is it okay? hissed Sunny in a loud whisper when they were alone, anxiously hopping from one foot to another.

              “Yes, i think so … I’ve been very careful,” Glynis reached in her pouch and gently pulled out an egg.

              “It’s amazing, isn’t it … almost golden… for sure it must be the gift the man from the market promised me in my dream … the way it just sat there on the path … lucky I did not stand on it.” She stroked the egg gently.

              “Sorry about all this, little one,” she said softly to the egg. “I wonder what creature you are inside this shell … and what safe place can we hide you till you are ready to come out of there?”

              “I can sit on it of course,” said Sunny. “It will be my honour and privilege to assist.”

              #4352

              As the storm was raging outside, Tak was hiding below the bed, with a small knitted patch of garment that Margoritt had given him, which he kept as a comforting soother.

              The darkness and gales of wind aroused feelings which he had rather not face. He curled below the bed, unaware of the other’s animated discussions, afraid to be terrified.

              You know this is how it starts… the voice was familiar, warm and gentle, grandfatherly. But he didn’t want to hear it. He had too much pain, and the voice was driving him away from the pain.
              Listen to me, just listen. You don’t need to answer, just open yourself a little. Let me help you with the pain, and the fear. You’ve had it inside for so long, too long.

              Go away! Tak was crying silently under the bed, mentally trying to resist the support of the voice who sounded like Master Gibbon.

              Alright, I will go for now. You just need to call if you need me. But you need to hear that.

              No! I don’t want! You can’t force me!

              Just remember that is how every cycle ends: death for your love, then death for all of you, before new painful, forgetful lives begin again for all of you. If you don’t break this cycle, it will end, and start again. You know it’s time for you to break that cycle of revenge, and manipulation. They have greatly suffered too for their mistakes. Let them see you as you are, and learn to forgive them.

              #4350
              ÉricÉric
              Keymaster

                Those things people discard… in his life as the rubbish collector, Pepe had seen many. The unusual large package was just one of the highlights of the day; it’s like Providence meant for him to have this thrown away parcel.

                Curious they didn’t even bother to open it, though he thought as he put it on the front of the truck. He probably would keep it for awhile, to see if anybody claims it back. You’d never know with the lot of crazy hoarding people in this lot. It was not the first time their batty help threw stuff away.

                If not, whatever that was inside would probably join his large collection.
                Over 20 years of gathering discarded books, he could almost open a library. And it didn’t matter how much he would give away, more would come back. It was a blessed curse, he used to say.

                #4345
                TracyTracy
                Participant

                  “Finnley, go and tell Roberto to bring the ladder. I can’t possibly climb up through that trap door with those rickety steps, I want a proper ladder. And proper gardener to hold it steady. I wouldn’t trust any of you lot,” she said, glaring at them each in turn.

                  Finnley made a rude sign behind Elizabeth’s back, and clumped back down the stairs. Increasingly heated bickering between Liz and the Inspector ensued. Godfrey wandered off down the hallway tutting and shaking his head, and then darted into a spare bedroom and fell sound asleep on the bed.

                  Expecting a tongue lashing from Liz for being so long, Finnley was surprised that nobody noticed her return. She cleared her throat a few times trying to get their attention.

                  “Go and get yourself a spoonful of honey and stop making that ghastly croaking noise, Finnley!”

                  “The thing is, Liz,” replied the maid, “He’s gone.”

                  “Who?”

                  Exasperated, Finnley’s voice rose to an alarming falsetto. “The gardener! Roberto! He’s gone, and what’s more, he’s taken the sack with him!”

                  “Do get a grip, Finnley, he’s probably just taking the rubbish out. Now then, Walter, if you think I’ve forgiven you for that day when you….he’s taken what? What did you say?”

                  Elizabeth blanched, waving her arms around wildly as if she was drowning.

                  “I know a good gardener who’s looking for a job,” the Inspector said helpfully.

                  “You utter fool!” Elizabeth rounded on him. “My babies have been stolen and you talk about gardening! Never mind that German, or whatever it was you said you’re doing here, go and catch that thief!”

                  Raising an eyebrow, Finnley wondered if this was just another fiasco, or was it really a cleverly engineered plot?

                  #4341

                  Before he closed it to prepare for the dinner, the page of the book had said “She is coming, heralded by Sunshine, and thus will the Gathering start”. Rukshan could be quite literal and thought that she wouldn’t come today, since the sun was about to set.
                  He wasn’t sure how the words had found their way into the book, and if the She was who he thought She was. In short, he was getting confused.

                  Back there, the Hermit’s message had been so clear, so urgently present.
                  Find who you were, find what you stole, and give it back. Then the threads will unravel and the knot of all the curses will be undone.

                  And yet, he started to doubt his path.

                  The high-pitched cry of “Circle of Eights” pierced through the fog of his mind, and Rukshan realised suddenly that… that was it. Why else, all these people would be around this place at this auspicious moment?

                  The trees’ messages had been shown right. He was the Faying Fae. The Sage Sorceress was probably still on her path, but the Teafing Tinkeress hunted by a god, the Gifted Gnome, on his way to become his own maker under the protection of a Renard Renunciate looking for lost souls… They were there. Five in total; with himself (Rukshan) — the potion-maker, Eleri, Gorrash, Fox, these were the rest of the names, and they made the five first strands. Who were the last two? Olliver, Tak?

                  Olliver would surely have rounded everyone around for the dinner by now.
                  Rukshan placed the book back into the bag. He would explain to everyone then, read the old tale of the seven thieves and their curses, and maybe they could all formulate a plan for remembrance.
                  Yes, remembrance was the first step. How to know what to do if you didn’t know who they were, what they stole…

                  He wasn’t too sure what to do with the God in torpor yet. He seemed less of a danger in his current state. That a God had been left behind, stuck in stone for so long, and right under their nose was mind-boggling. Another mystery to be revealed.
                  Surprisingly —and luckily— Olli had explained, Hasamelis seemed to believe that the young boy was a genius wizard, so he would maybe listen to Olli.

                  The second ‘Circle of Eights!’ seemed closer this time.

                  #4334
                  TracyTracy
                  Participant

                    While the others were posturing and staring at each other threateningly like a pack of territorial stray dogs, Roberto inched closer to the mysterious sack. Something had started to protrude through a ragged hole in the side of the hessian weave. With a surreptitious glance at the others, who were still glaring at each other ~ with the exception of Godfrey who was still eyeing the lone peanut ~ he took another step closer. He bent down, ostensibly to flick a bit of mud from his trouser knee, and peered at the thing poking out of the sack.

                    “Why, it’s a tiny furled leaf!” he gasped. “It’s sprouting!” Like a sack of old potatoes left to rot in a damp corner, forgotten and discarded, a pale shoot was striking out in search of light.

                    Roberto held back when Liz demanded that Finnley lead her to the attic forthwith, followed by the Inspector. Godfrey shuffled along after them, picking up the stray peanut and popping it into his mouth. As soon as the gardener heard their footsteps creaking on the first floor landing, he made his move. There was life in that sack and he was going to give it the chance to thrive, to grow and blossom.

                    He knew just where to plant it. It would take some time to reach that place, but he knew what he must do.

                    Roberto set off for The Enchanted Woods, with a determined smile and a spring in his step. He was going to save the characters and grow them himself, nurture them all back to life.

                    #4331

                    “What was in the bag, Finnley, tell us!”
                    Everyone was looking at the maid after the Inspector had left hurriedly, under the pretext of taking care of a tip he had received on the disappearance of the German girl.

                    Godfrey was the most curious in fact. He couldn’t believe in the facade of meanness that Finnley carefully wrapped herself into. The way she cared about the animals around the house was a testimony to her well hidden sweetness. Most of all, he thought herself incapable of harming another being.
                    But he had been surprised before. Like when Liz’ had finished a novel, long ago.

                    “Alright, I’ll show you. Stay there, you lot of accomplices.”

                    Godfrey looked at Liz’ sideways, who was distracted anyway by the gardener, who was looking at the nearby closet.

                    “Liz’, will you focus please! The mystery is about to be revealed!”

                    “Oh shut up, Godfrey, there’s no mystery at all. I’ve known for a while what that dastardly maid had done. I’ve been onto her for weeks!”
                    “Really?”
                    “Oh, don’t you give me that look. I’m not as incapable as you think, and that bloodshot-eyes stupor I affect is only to keep annoyances away. Like my dear mother, if you remember.”
                    “So tell us, if you’re so smart now. In case it’s really a corpse, at least, we may all be prepared for the unwrapping!”
                    “A CORPSE! Ahaha, you fool Godfrey. It’s not A corpse! It’s MANY CORPSES!”

                    Godfrey really thought for a second that she had completely lost it. Again. He would have to call the nearby sanatorium, make up excuses for the next signing session at the library, and cancel all future public appear…

                    “Will you stop that! I know what you’re doing, you bloody control machine! Stop that thinking of yours, I can’t even hear myself thinking nowadays for all your bloody thinking. Now, as I was saying of course she’d been hiding all the corpses!”
                    “Are you insane, Liz’ —at least keep your voice down…”
                    “Don’t be such a sourdough Godfrey, you’re sour, and sticky and all full of gas. JUST LET ME EXPLAIN, for Lemone’s sake!”

                    Godfrey fell silent for a moment, eyeing a lost peanut left on a shelf nearby.

                    Conscious of the unfair competition for Godfrey’s attention Elizabeth blurted it all in one sentence:
                    “She’s been collecting them, my old failed stories, the dead drafts and old discarded versions of them. Hundreds of characters, those little things, I’d given so many cute little names, but they had no bones or shape, and very little personality, I had to smother them to death.” She started sobbing uncontrollably.

                    That was then that Finnley came back in the room, panting and dragging the sack coated in dirt inside the room, and seeing the discomfit Liz’ with smeared make-up all over her eyes.

                    “Oh, bloody hell. Don’t you tell me I brought that dirty bag of scraps up for nothing!”

                    She left there, running for the door screaming “I’m not doing the carpets again!”

                    And closed the door with a sonorous “BUGGER!”

                    #4320
                    ÉricÉric
                    Keymaster

                      “Well, the backdoor was opened, you see, like my wife says…” Inspector Melon started to explain Finnley how he managed to be in the house no sooner had she turned back to dusting duties, or rather turned her back to the door and said duties.

                      “Stop it!” she interrupted, “and put those shoe covers on your muddy shoes, damnit, I’m not going to do the floors again on your behalf, you miscreant.”

                      “Finnley, what’s this racket about?” Godfrey appeared from behind the massive last last century clock licking his fingers off the peanut butter.

                      Finnley put her fists on her hips with a defiant air, not gone unnoticed by Godfrey, “Well, THIS dripping wet gentleman pretends to be a policeman investigating on the Jingly girl disappearance… Not that we know anything about that anyhow.”

                      Inspector Melon couldn’t help but say “Interesting you should mention it, did I say I was looking for Ms Jingle Bells?”

                      Godfrey couldn’t help but give a sideway look of “what have you done” to Finnley, who replied by her usual “why look at me like I did something wrong” look.

                      #4309

                      The remembrance had made the magic book reappear in Rukshan’s bag, and with it, its leaves ripe with vibrant parts of the long ago story. Rukshan started to read, immediately engrossed by the story it told.

                      When the Heartswood was young, many thousands of years ago, during the Blissful Summer Age

                      WHO
                      — The Dark FAE
                      — The Mapster DWARF
                      — The Glade TROLL
                      — The Trickster DRYAD
                      — The Tricked GIRL
                      — The Laughing CRONE
                      — The Toothless DRAGON

                      ACT 1, SCENE 1 – THE PREPARATION

                      NARRATOR: It all started as an idea, small and unnoticeable, at first. Almost too frail to endure. But it soon found a fertile soil in the mind of seven improbable acolytes. It took roots and got nourishment from greed, envy, despair, sorrow, despondence, rebellion and other traits. And it grew. That growing idea bound them together, and in search of the way to obtain what it wanted, got them to work together to do an unthinkable thing. Rob the Heartswood of its treasure, the Crest Jewel of the Gods, the radiant Gem that was at its centre. It would be the end of their sorrow, the end of the Gods unfair power of all creation… The idea obscured all others, driving them to act.

                      FAE: Did you get the map?
                      DWARF: Of course, what do you think, I am no amateur. What do you bring to the table?
                      FAE: I bring the way out. But first things first, the map will get us there, but we still need a way in. What says your TROLL friend?
                      DWARF: He heard rumours, there is a DRYAD. Her tree is dying, she tried to petition the Gods, but to no avail. She will help.
                      FAE: Can your friend guarantee it?
                      DWARF: You have damn little trust. You will see, when she brings in the GIRL. She is the key to open the woods. Only an innocent heart can do it, so the DRYAD will trick her.
                      FAE: How? I want to know everything, I don’t like surprises. An unknowing acolyte is a threat to our little heist. What’s her story?
                      DWARF: I don’t know much. Something about a broken heart, a dead one, her lover maybe. The DRYAD told the GIRL she could bring her loved one back from the dead, in the holy woods.
                      FAE: I can work with that. So we are good then?
                      DWARF: You haven’t told me about your exit plan. What is it?
                      FAE: I can’t tell you, not now. We need the effect of surprise. Now go get the others, we will reconvene at the woods’ entrance, tomorrow night, at the darkest moon of the darkest day.

                      SCENE 2 – THE CURIOUS GODMOTHER

                      GIRL: Godmother, I need to go, you are not to worry.
                      CRONE (cackling): Let me come with you, the woods are not safe at this time of the year. The Stranger is surely out there to get you.
                      GIRL: No, no, Godmother, please stay, you cannot help me, you need to rest.

                      Rukshan looked at some of the blank pages, there were still missing patches

                      ACT 2 – SCENE 3 – THE HEIST

                      In the heart of the Heartswoods

                      TROLL: Let me break that crystal, so we can share it!
                      GIRL (reaching for it to protect it): No! I need it whole!
                      DRYAD (in suave tone): Let it go! I will protect it and give you what you want…
                      GIRL: Your promises are worthless! You lied to me!
                      CRONE: (cackles) Told you!
                      DWARF: Give it to me!
                      FAE (quieting everyone): Let’s be calm, friends. Everyone can get what they want.

                      GIRL (startled): Eek! A Guardian DRAGON! We are doomed!
                      FAE (reaching too late for the crystal): Oh no, it had broken in seven pieces. I will put them in this bag, each of us will get one piece after we leave. (to the DRAGON) Lead the way out of this burning circle!
                      DWARF (understanding): Oh, that was your exit strategy…
                      FAE (rolling eyes): Obvious-ly.

                      That was all that the book had to show at the time. Rukshan thought the writer got a little lazier with the writing as the story went, but it was good enough to understand more or less what had happened.

                      There was one last thing that was shown in the book.

                      WHAT THEY STOLE
                      — Shard of Infinite Knowledge
                      — Shard of Transmutation and Shapeshifting
                      — Shard of Ubiquity and Teleportation
                      — Shard of Infinite Influence and Telepathy
                      — Shard of Infinite Life and Death
                      — Shard of Grace and Miracles
                      — Shard of Infinite Strength

                      #4305

                      Looking at what was left in his bag, it made Rukshan realise he was walking in the Dragon Heartswood for longer than he thought.
                      It was a maze with layers of concentric circles of tree, and seemed far bigger and vast once you were inside that it should have been.
                      He had been presumptuous to venture in it, without any guidance or map, knowing very well that most of those who had entered it, never came out. There was a magical distress beacon that was in the bag, but he guessed it would only help him retrace his steps back to where he entered. He didn’t want to use it. He could still feel the glowing confidence infused in his heart by the potion, and now, it was as though it was telling him to do nothing, and just not worry. So he chose one of the trees, to just sit under, and meditate for a while.

                      There was a bird, high in the small patch of sky that the treetops didn’t cover. Or at least, it looked like a bird. I had been there for a moment, as if watching him.

                      “Don’t you like birds?” the voice said “They are my favourite creatures, so smart and graceful. Ah, and the joy of the flight!”
                      He wouldn’t open his eyes, not sure the feminine voice was in his head or not. She was one and the same with the large bird hovering —it was one of her projections, but she was human.
                      “You know who I am, Rukshan, you have been searching for me.”
                      “You are the Hermit, aren’t you?”
                      “Yes, and here I am, saving you a long trip to the mountains.” There was a smile in her voice.

                      He didn’t know what to say, but feared to open his eyes, and risk the spell to vanish.

                      “You can open them, your eyes. They are deceivers anyway, they are not the senses that matter.”

                      She was there, in front of him, looking ageless. There was no telling if she was a projection or real.

                      She had put something in front of him. A sort of flat braid, not very long, and made with different threads of diverse nature and impractical use, yet artfully arranged, revealing clever and shifting patterns.

                      “It is for you Rukshan, to help you remember. I have worked on it for the past days, and it is now ready for you.”

                      He looked at the patterns, they were clear and simple, yet they changed and seemed to elude understanding. The braid was only loosely attached at the end, and threatened to unravel as soon as moved.

                      “These are your lives, intertwined. You and six others. You don’t know them, in this life —however long yours has been. But you are connected, and you have know each other before, and you have intertwined before. Some of these past stories can be read in the patterns, and some are tragic, and they all bear fruits in this life and the next. It is no mystery why you have been attracted to the Heartswood, because it is where the Sundering started, and where you and the others have left things unresolved. If you don’t look deep now, and take steps to correct course, you will go from this life to the next and repeat your torments and endless search.”

                      While Kumihimo spoke, Rukshan had fleeting images and impressions, some linked to the visions the gingkos and the trees had sent him before, of the others, linked to his quest.

                      “Yes, you are starting to remember… That day, when you and the others tried to rob the Gods of the flame of creation. They cursed you, even their pet Dragon who was supposed to guard their treasure and sided with you against them.”

                      She showed him the ring of charred trees that marked that particular period in the middle of all the rings for each ages of growth of the Heartswood.

                      “The Sundering” he spoke softly, reminded of fables in the legends of the Fae. That was the ancient age, when most of the Gods had disappeared, some said, gone through the doorway that was at the very heart of the Heartswood, the very source of life and death, and creation. There had been new Gods after that. They also possessed great powers, but none with the aura of the Old Ones —no Old God would have been trapped in stone by a mere witch’s enchantment.

                      Rukshan turned to the Hermit with deep pondering. “What can we do?”

                      She was starting to fade away, turning again into a bird. “Each of you has a special power, that you stole in that past life, and with each new life, you carry it with you, and with it, its curse. Find who you were, find what you stole, and give it back. Then the threads will unravel and the knot of all the curses will be undone.”

                      #4298

                      He took the road again not much later after a light breakfast.

                      The potion hadn’t seemed to bring about immediate noticeable changes. It told Rukshan something about its maker, who was versed enough in potions to create gradual (and likely durable) effects. Every experienced potion maker knew that the most potent potions were the ones that took time, and worked with the drinker’s inner magic instead of against its own nature. The flashy potions that made drastic changes in nature were either destructive, or fleeting as a bograt’s fart in the spring breeze.
                      If anything, it did give him a welcome warmth in the chest, and a lightness on his back and shoulders.

                      The Faes had been generous with him, and he had food enough for a few days. Generous may not have been the right word… eager to see him scamper away was more likely.

                      Enhanced by the potion’s warmth, the Queen’s words were starting to shake some remembrance back to him, melting away a deep crust of memories he had forgotten somehow, pushing against the snow like promises of crocuses in spring. The core of the Dragon Heartswood was very close now, a most sacrosanct place.
                      Faes were only living at the fringe, where life and magic flew, running like the sap of an old tree, close to the bark.
                      Inside was darker, harder to get to. Some said it was where life and death met, the birthplace of the Old Gods and of their Dragons guardians before the Sundering.

                      His initial plan was to go around it, safe in Fae territory, but after the past days, and the relentless menace of the hungry ghosts on his trail, he had to take risks, and draw them away from his kin.
                      The warmth in his heart was getting warmer, and he felt encouraged to move forth in his plan. He gave a last look at the mountain range in the distance before stepping into the black and white thickets of austere trees.

                      #4296

                      That night Glynnis had a strange dream. She knew that it was no ordinary dream and in the morning diligently recorded it in her dream journal.

                      I was walking on a windy path through the forest. A young woman with bizarre hair and a cackling laugh appeared before me, blocking my path.
                      “Tell me your name!” I commanded.
                      “My name is Eleri, and I have a parrot to accompany you on your journey.”
                      “A parrot! What would I do with a parrot?”
                      “This is no ordinary parrot. This parrot can tell jokes,” responded the woman.
                      “A funny parrot! Well why didn’t you tell me that in the first place. Give me the parrot and I will be on my way.”
                      “Hold your horses. It’s not such an easy thing as that,” said the woman. “It never is you know. First you must tell me what is going on.”
                      I sighed and handed her a manuscript. “Read this a dozen times and all will be made clear.”
                      A look of petulant fury distorted the young woman’s face.
                      “ Tell me what is going on, you rude tart!“ she said crossly.
                      Here is what I told her:

                      Glynnis is a young woman living in the enchanted forest in an abandoned mansion. She practices magic and has a great affinity for nature. She also has the face of dragon after she annoyed a powerful sorcerer. She is being troubled by dreams which seem to be calling her on a mission—the purpose of which she is unsure. Glynnis sells her potions at a stall in the city. One day she finds a map hidden behind a painting and knows that she needs to follow the path shown on the map.
                      Rushkan is fae. He works as the city ‘chief overseer’ looking after the clock tower. He isn’t that keen on his job. Rushkan has a half-formed vision to assemble a team but for what purpose he is not sure. He has also discovered something worrying, dark even, about the clock tower.
                      One day, Rushkan uses his magic to call for an Oliphant. He packs a small bag of belongs and departs on a journey. Before departing, he leaves a gift for Olliver, the office errand boy.
                      Rushkan is a little irritated to find that the forest has been fenced off and a toll-booth erected—who wouldn’t be annoyed by this needless bureaucracy? Anyway, after farewelling the helpful Oliphant he continues his journey on foot.
                      He hears a cry for help and comes across a dying Gibbon. The Gibbon entrusts her infant to his care. He takes the baby—named Tak—to an old woman who lives in a lodge close to the Dragon Heartwood: Margoritt Loursenoir, a writer. It seems Tak is a shape-shifter and can also take the form of a child. Perhaps that is his true form. Rushkan stays with Margoritt for a while to recoup but it isn’t very long before he feels compelled to continue his journey to find the hermit, Kumihimo,in the forest. Kumihimo seems to be weaving seven braids.
                      To get to the hermit Rushkan has to cross Fae land. He isn’t overjoyed about this because he has left the ‘old ways’ of his people. Rushkan has to declare his presence to the Fae people—it’s a rule. The Queen is a bit annoyed because her empire is not as powerful as it once was and she has had to use precious resources to protect Rushkan on his journey. Anyway, she doesn’t stay uppity for long and ends up in bed with him.
                      Gorash is a dwarf statue who abides in the grounds of the deserted mansion in the enchanted forest. At night he comes to life. He has a friend called Rainbow. Gorash assists Rainbow in stealing Glynis’s magic potions and they make seven colourful eggs which Rainbow is infatuated with.
                      Mr Fox lives in a hut outside the city walls. At sunset he can shapeshift into a fox. He prefers being in animal form. Fox is quite a character. Not much gets past him.
                      Fox’s master is a Gibbon who taught him how to shapeshift. After going on a journey into the forest to find Gibbon, Fox is told that it is time to learn the wisdom of the Heart. Gibbon gives Fox an assignment: “You’ll find a lost soul in the enchanted forest. Bring it back to its rightful owner. Then you shall find your master.”
                      Fox goes back to the mansion in the deserted forest just as Glynnis is leaving on her journey. He befriends Gorash who has become increasingly lonely since Rainbow now has the eggs.

                      “That’s brilliant,” said the woman called Eleri. “You should probably get lots of points for doing that.” She gave one more loud cackle and shouted: “I am off to pick some mushrooms. You will find the parrot when you wake up from this crazy dream!”

                      #4293

                      The night was almost there, the dwarf would come out of his heavy daysleep any minute now. Fox had been collecting mushrooms along with twigs and branches to make some fire. He hoped the constant drizzle of these last few days had not rendered them too wet.

                      The differences of his needs and cravings depending on his being a fox or a human had always amazed him. When he was a fox, he feared fire and would avoid it at all cost. When he was a human, he couldn’t spend a night out in the cold without a fire. His body was simply not good at keeping warmth inside when he had no fur. Today was no exception and Fox was certain the dwarf would also appreciate it to get rid of the cold of the stone.

                      After piling up the wood for the fire, Fox smelled his harvest of fresh mushrooms. He imagined them accompanying a good rabbit stew and felt saliva water his mouth. His diet as an animal was mostly meat, whereas as a human he was oddly attracted to vegetables, and even enjoyed the taste of mushrooms. He might not enjoy them so much had he not met a girl once, so long ago when he was a still a cub learning to transform into a human. He remembered the girl had said she was called Eleri, which he had found amusing because in French “Elle rit” means “she’s laughing”.

                      “How do you know French?” she had asked.
                      “Oh! My master Gibbon teaches me French, he says it would give me another way of thinking the world.”
                      “Your master must be fond of Romance stories,” she giggled.

                      Fox didn’t really understood what she meant by that, and he thought it was not so important because what she had in her bag smelt so funny.

                      “What’s that?” he asked.
                      “You want some?” She handed a bunch of butterstache fungi to the handsome redhead boy. “I realise I don’t know your name.”

                      “I’m Fox,” he said his eyes fixed on the strange looking things in her hands. He sniffed and wrinkled his nose. “Is it safe?”

                      He remembered the look of incredulity in her eyes, her beautiful eyes. She was the first girl he had seen. He didn’t know much about humans except what Master Gibbon had told him in French, which didn’t really make sense at that time.

                      “It’s totally safe, you might only have some funny experiences if you take the wrong ones in the forest,” Eleri laughed and Fox remembered the meaning of her name in French. He thought the name suited her well. He accepted her gift, for her eyes, and for her sincere laugh.

                      Since that time, eating mushrooms was always coloured with joy and a sense of daring. The last rays of the Sun faded away.

                      “It smells like mushrooms, and butterstache if I’m not mistaken,” said the raspy voice of the dwarf.

                      #4278

                      It had been three days. Fox wasn’t sure of what to do next. The witch was gone, the manor was empty, and she wasn’t coming back. For a moment he felt like the small fox he was before his master found him, feeling abandoned by his mother. She had been killed after hiding him from the hunters. But he didn’t know it at the time. Fox sighed. How was he supposed to find the lost piece of soul now? It was easier when he was in his animal form, he wouldn’t think so much about what to do next, he would just be doing, anything that fit the moment. But his master had warned him not to revert back to his animal form, that he was not yet free. Fox wasn’t sure if it was true, but he trusted his master, and despite the strong desire to turn back, each moment he was making the decision to keep his human form.

                      There was another who was not yet free, Fox thought. He looked at the cold stone face of his new friend. They had talked every night since his arrival and as usual they hadn’t seen the daylight coming. This time, Gorrash had been frozen laughing, and Fox thought it was the liveliest statue he had ever seen. They had gotten along quite easily, especially after Fox had given the dwarf some medicine to help with the nausea after his incursion underground. Afterward, Gorrash had been an endless source of questions about the world. Fox thought the dwarf was an interesting character. He looked old with his long beard and the wrinkles around his eyes, but he had not been around very long. Grey during the day, he was very colourful once the daylight had gone; he wore red hat and pants, green jacket, and brown crakows and belt. His voice had the sound of a grinding stone, with a hint of melancholy as he talked about his maker. But for the moment, despite his expressive outburst, he was cast in silence.

                      Fox shook himself and decided it was time to make some plans about where to go next. He would try to catch up with the witch, he might be able to find her before she went to far away from the forest. The woman looked old and she couldn’t have gone far, especially as she seemed to avoid human contact, she wouldn’t have found a carriage. Fox remembered his master warning him about hope, that it was one of the cause of suffering in the world. Nonetheless, roaming randomly into the enchanted forest could take him years to find the lost piece of soul. Hope or no hope, he had spent enough time waiting in his life. He had a quest now.

                      Fox wouldn’t have admitted aloud, but his new friendship brought in some complication. Fox had tried to lift him, but despite its rather small size the statue was quite heavy. He would have to find something to carry it during the day as they couldn’t just walk at night time.
                      Fox looked at the garden for a moment, the frozen pond, the yellow grass, some old abandoned furniture. Then he looked at the closed door of the house, and wondered why he hadn’t thought of it before. There might be something useful inside. And if the witch was gone, she wouldn’t mind, would she?

                      Fox used a pair of pins to open the door. The smell of herbs, spices and a few other things he didn’t want to know about, brushed past his nose as he entered the dark house.

                      #4277

                      “You’ve been careless. The ghosts have been following you.”

                      The Queen had not moved nor spoken. It was her emissary who was talking in her stead, as customary.
                      In the morning, at the break of dawn, Rukshan had summoned the Court, by calling in an owl with the old speech of their tongue.
                      It was not long before he was found and guided to a careful ritual of purification before he was allowed in front of their sovereign.

                      The idea struck him like lightening. Following me? Was that what happened?

                      “You look surprised. Another sign of carelessness. Now, they are wandering around our walls of magic fire, they are following you. As a result of our actions, we are exhausting our stores of magic to put defenses in place, putting our civilisation in peril. What have you to say for your defense?”
                      “Throw me in iron jail” a shudder ran through the small crowd “kill me if you think I deserve it.” Rukshan paused for dramatic effect “But it won’t solve your predicament, will it?”

                      He felt a rush of defiance coursing through his veins. They couldn’t hold him against his will, there wasn’t any ban on improper use of magic, nor any punition for that, and if they wanted to get rid of the ghosts, they’d better let him go.

                      “Let him go.” The breaking of protocol made everyone fuss around, until the Queen silenced everyone with a regal wave of hand. “Let him go.” She turned her gaze to meet his. “You think you are better than us, by renouncing the old ways, trying to define your own, but you are not above natural laws. They will follow you until you find how to appease them. I do hope, for the sake of all, that you will find a way. Humans may think they have tamed the wild, but the wild is rising and cannot be contained. The forest will see to it, and you better hurry. We will give you what you need for your journey, and three days to prepare.”

                    Viewing 20 results - 261 through 280 (of 636 total)