Search Results for 'happened'

Forums Search Search Results for 'happened'

Viewing 20 results - 141 through 160 (of 266 total)
  • Author
    Search Results
  • #3996
    TracyTracy
    Participant

      The following is an e-mail from the past, composed on July 01, 2010. It is being delivered from the past through FutureMe.org

      Dear FutureMe,
      The Absinthe Cafe
      Dawn and Mark had a bottle of Absinthe (the proper stuff with the WORMwood in
      it, which is illegal in France) but forgot to bring it. Wandering around at
      some point, we chanced upon a cafe called Absinthe. Sitting on the terrace, the
      waitress came up and looked right at me and said “Oh you are booked to come here
      tomorrow night!” and then said “Forget I said that”. Naturally that got our
      attention. After we left Dawn spotted a kid with 2016 on the back of his T
      shirt. We asked Arkandin about it and we have a concurrent group focus that does
      meet in that cafe in 2016, including Britta. Dawn’s name is Isabelle Spencer,
      Jib’s is Jennifer….
      The Worm & The Suitcase
      I borrowed Rachel’s big red suitcase for the trip and stuck a Time Bridgers
      sticker on it, and joked before I left about the case disappearing to 2163. I
      had an impulse to take a fig tree sapling for Eric and Jib, which did survive
      the trip although it looked a little shocked at first. As Eric was repotting
      it, we noticed a worm in the soil, and I said, Well, if the fig tree dies at
      least you have the worm.
      At Balzacs house on a bench in the garden there was a magazine lying there open
      to an ad for Spain, which said “If you lose your suitcase it would be the best
      thing because you would have to stay”.
      Later we asked Arkandin and he said that there was something from the future
      inserted into my suitcase. I went all through it wondering what it could be,
      and then a couple of days ago Eric said that it was the WORM! because of the
      WORMwood absinthe syncs, and worm hole etc. I just had a chat with Franci who
      had a big worm sync a couple of days ago, she particularly noticed a very big
      worm outside the second hand shop, and noted that she hadn’t seen a worm in ages
      ~ which is also a sync, because there was a big second hand clothes shop next to
      Dawn and Mark’s hotel that I went into looking for a bowler hat.
      Arkandin said, by the way, that Jane did forget to mention the bowler hats in
      OS7, those two guys on the balcony were indeed wearing bowler hats, and that
      they were the same guys that were in my bedroom in the dream I had prior to
      finding the Seth stuff ~ Elias and Patel.
      Eric replied:

      And another Time Bridger thing; a while ago, Jib and I had fun planting some TB stickers at random places in Paris (and some on a wooden gate at Jib’s hometown).
      Those in Paris I remember were one at the waiting room of a big tech department store, and another on the huge “Bateaux Mouches” sign on the Pont de l’Alma (bridge, the one of Lady D. where there is a gilded replica of Lady Liberty’s flame).
      I think there are pics of that on Jib’s or my flickr account somewhere.
      When we were walking past this spot, Jib suddenly remembered the TB sticker — meanwhile, the sign which was quite clean before had been written all over, and had other stickers everywhere. We wondered whether it was still here, and there it was! It’s been something like 2 years… Kind of amazing to think it’s still there, and imagine all the people that may have seen it since!
      ~~~~

      The Flights

      I wasn’t all that keen on flying and procrastinated for ages about the trip. I
      flew with EASYjet, so it was nice to see the word EASY everywhere. I got on the
      plane to find that they don’t allocate seats, and chose a seat right at the
      front on the left. The head flight attendant was extremely playful for the
      whole flight, constantly cracking up laughing and teasing the other flight
      attendants, who would poke him and make him laugh during announcements so that
      he kept having to put the phone down while he laughed. I spent the whole flight
      laughing and catching his mischeivously twinking eye.
      I asked Arkandin about him and he said his energy was superimposed. I got on
      the flight to come home and was met on the plane by the same guy! I said
      HELLO! It’s YOU again! Can I sit in the same seat and are you going to make me
      laugh again” and he actually moved the person that was in my seat and said I
      could sit there. Then he asked me about my book (about magic and Napolean). He
      also said that all his flights all week had been delayed except the two that I
      was on. He wanted to give me a card for frequent flyers but I told him I
      usually flew without planes ~ that cracked him up ;))
      ~~~

      The Dream Bean

      Eric cracked open a special big African bean that is supposed to enhance
      dreams/lucidity so we all had a bit of it. The second night I remembered a
      dream and it was a wonderful one.
      (Coincidentally, on the flight home I read a few pages of my book and it just
      happened to be about the council of five dragons and misuse of magical beans)
      In the dream I had a companion with magical powers, who I presumed was Jib but
      it was myself actually. It was a long adventure dream of being chased and
      various adventures across the countryside, but there was no stress, it was all
      great fun. Everytime things got a bit too close in the dream, I’d hold onto my
      friend with magical powers, and we would elevate above the “adventure” and drop
      down in another location out of immediate danger ~ although we were never
      outside of the adventure, so to speak. At one point I wondered why my magical
      freind didn’t just elevate us right up high and out of it completely, and
      realized that we were in the adventure game on purpose for the fun of it, so why
      would we remove ourselves completely from the adventure game.
      In the dream I remember we were heading for Holland at one point, and then the
      last part we were safely heading for Turkey…..
      The other dream snapshot was “we are all working together on roof tiles” and
      Arkandin had some interesting stuff to say about that one.
      ~~~

      There were alot of vampire imagery incidents starting with me asking Eric if he
      slept in his garden tool box at night, and then the guy who shot out of a door
      right next to Jib and Eric’s, in a bright orange T shirt, carrying a cardboard
      coffin. He stopped for me to take a photo (and Arkandin said it was a Patel pop
      in); then while walking through the outdoor food market someone was chopping a
      crate up and a perfect wooden stake flew across the floor and landed at my feet.
      The next vampire sync was a shop opposite Dawn and Mark’s hotel with 3 coffins
      in the window (I went back to take a pic of the cello actually, didn’t even
      notice the coffins). Inside the shop was an EAU DE NIL MOTOR SCOOTER Share, can
      you beleive it, and a mummy, a stuffed raven, and a row of (Tardis) Red phone
      boxes.
      I had a nightmare last night that I couldn’t find any of my (nine) dogs; the
      only ones I could find were the dead ones.
      ~~~~

      Balzac’s House

      The trip to Balzac’s house was interesting, although in somewhat unexpected
      ways. (Arkandin was Balzac and I was the cook/housekeeper) The house didn’t
      seem “right” somehow to Mark and I and we decided that was probably because
      other than the desk there was no furniture in it. Mark saw a black cat that
      nobody else saw that was an Arkandin pop in (panther essence animal), and Dawn
      felt that he was sitting on a chair, and Mark sat on him. (Arkandin said yes he
      did sit on him ;) The kitchen was being used as an office. Jib felt the house
      was too small, and picked up on a focus of his that rented the other part of the
      house. (The house was one storey high on the side we entered, and two storeys
      high from the road below). There were two pop ins there apparently, one with
      long hair which is a connection to my friend Joy who was part of that group
      focus, and I can’t recall anything about the other one. Dawn was picking up
      that Balzac wasn’t too happy, and I was remembering the part in Cousin Bette
      that infuriated me when I read it, where he goes on and on about how disgusting
      it is for servants to expect their wages when their “betters” are in dire
      straits. Arkandin confirmed that I didn’t get my wages.
      The garden was enchanting and had a couple of sphinx statues and a dead pigeon ~
      as well as the magazine with the suitcase and Spain imagery. Mark signed the
      guest book “brought the cook back” and I replied “no cooking smells this time”.

      #3971
      Jib
      Participant

        “What happened to you, Finnley ?” asked Liz. The maid, usually neatly permed looked dishevelled and had forgotten to remove her cucumber mask.
        “The delivery man”, began Finnley, “He said someone ordered 30.”
        “30 what ?”
        “30 crates of carrot champagne.”
        “Carrot champagne ? I didn’t know they could make alcohol out of carrots,” said Liz. She pouted lasciviously, thinking of what she could do with all that champagne. She had never taken a bath in champagne, that could be a first. She would have to be careful with the carrot tan though.
        “They can do alcohol with anything”, added Godfrey.
        “Who ordered that ?” asked Liz, “And why 30 crates ?”
        “Apparently, it’s your cousin Badul”, said Finnley. A cucumber fall off her face.
        Liz’ lips closed tight at the mention of her cousin.
        “It’s Badul’s intention to have the wedding at your property.”
        Liz dropped her spaghetti hat on the freshly mown grass. Roberto bent over, showing even more of his crack, to pick up the hat before it attracted ants. Liz bit her lips.

        #3969
        Jib
        Participant

          “Devan!” called Mater. She couldn’t find the spell, and if they didn’t hurry, Idle would be lost, transformed into termitegranite forever.

          The boy happened to be in the house at that moment. And he asked quite proud of himself. “What’s the matter Mater ?”
          If she had had time to roll her eyes, she would have.
          “I’m looking for a small package, it was hidden into the termite honey that your aunt swallowed.”
          “Termite honey ?” asked Devan, “I didn’t know termite made honey. Are you sure it was not something else ? Like bees ?”
          “Don’t play games, there’s no time. Look for a package, or a paper,” said Mater. I hope that tart didn’t swallow it with the honey.

          #3922
          Jib
          Participant

            A yellow monkey jumped from the top of the fridge onto Dido’s hair. She screamed like a beaver and dropped the ice cream jar she was devouring voraciously. Mater, who just happened to enter the kitchen at that very moment, rolled her eyes. When it was not curry cookies, it was icecream. If she continued to eat like that, Dido would soon puff up like a hot-hair balloon.

            #3909
            TracyTracy
            Participant

              Ignoring the peculiar behaviour of Finnley, who seemed to be having a strange turn (Flove only knew what had happened to her during her absence), Liz continued with her explanation.

              “It’s the new exercise in the Mandala of Ascensions group. There are Leader Personalities, and there are Supporter Personalities ~ and let me be perfectly clear, there are no in betweens or other categories in this particular exercise. Members of the group must choose one category only.”

              Liz paused to light a cigarette, and turn down the background chatter emanating from the puerile radio show, which was distracting her from her train of thought.

              #3826

              In reply to: The Hosts of Mars

              prUneprUne
              Participant

                It feels like it has all been a dream. And not a particularly good one, too.

                I look through the window, and the blue sky of Earth shines brightly though. Only a few more days before the quarantine is over, if I’m to believe the hazmat-suited staff, and I should be able to get out to wherever I want to. You can go back to your family the nurse had said with a smile. They surely must miss you.
                Obviously, the well-intentioned nurse had no notion of her family…

                The TV set they’ve put in the rooms is more helpful to piece together the fragments of memory of what happened. The news had kept mum about the aliens, or about our return for that matter. It seems they can’t explain how we came back so fast, without telling more. Maybe that’s the real purpose of the quarantine… brainwash us into forgetting, returning back to our lives quietly, and be happy that we could get back in one piece. Funny they should even bother at all, actually.

                I don’t know if there’s any coming back to how life was before. Surely the Inn and Aunt Idle would still be there, if only both more derelict than before. But would I want to get back? Do what? Only Mater’s sharp wits were ever a match, and she is gone too.

                This is the end of the Mars story.
                With some chance, I’ll start a business with Hans — raise Guinea pigs, rats and maybe a couple of those cute African pygmy hedgehogs. That would be a lot more fun.
                Squeals and cackles, and truckloads of cuteness.

                #3808

                The house was strangely peaceful.

                The hot days were over for now, and the air wasn’t as suffocating.

                Dido was gone for a visit to New South Wales, talking the girls with her.
                As Mater said, breathing a bit of ocean in her pipes instead of her infernal smoking would do her quite a bit of good. Actually, to her surprise, she’d refrained herself from saying what she originally meant. Her brains needed washing too, but that would have been mean.
                “Mater, old cow, you’re getting soft with age” — Prune could hear her mutter. The young girl was clever at reading her silences and mutterings. For all the good it would do her.
                So, yeah, a bit of coastal loitering, instead of vagabonding with all the in and out guests that summer had brought. Dido would endlessly run head-first in so many troubles by following people’s every whim. But hopefully she would be a bit more responsible having to care for her nieces.

                It must have been those books she read, or the Internet gobbledygook. Mater had found a second-hand worn-out book Dido had forgotten to flush on her way out of the loo. Or the reverse.
                Anyway, she’d given it a peek. Out of concern of course.
                No wonder Dido was so taken with silly concerns. It was a book by a French Tibetan Buddhist monk, advocating compassion for this, compassion for that. Good for nothing, all the same those preachers. Now, she could understand why Dido was all ranting about how meditation change your brain. Well, no surprise! Makes it all mushy and unable to think critically, more like it.

                Just before she left for her little vacation, she’d almost had a nervous breakdown about what she called the extermination. Happened the noise on the roof were stray cats. Well, I knew she fed them from time to time. Probably Finly too. Now, neither Finly nor myself would have called the exterminator to kill some poor cats, good gracious. The guinea pigs are out of their reach anyway. But I guess one of the neighbours wasn’t the compassionate type. Now, what about having compassion for those bastard cat killers? Silly monks who know nothing.

                Anyway,… darn phone! Somebody to answer that phone?

                When she arrived at the ringing phone, she realised it was again one of those stupid marketers to sell whatever useless crap. She put the handset delicately on the ledge, letting the guy talk to the air, and resumed her calm walk around the quiet house.

                So, where was I, she thought. The thought has nearly slipped away.

                It was something about fish oil maybe. Oh there… walking meditation, mushy brains, cat killers… There, she lost it again…

                #3807

                In reply to: The Hosts of Mars

                ÉricÉric
                Keymaster

                  His mother had told him not to trust what he would see. Somehow she’d spoken as if she knew more than she wanted to tell.

                  After the mayhem with the quakes, and the meteor impact, he thought that was it. There was something more to the reality of these events.

                  But then, nothing could have prepared them for what happened next. “Bloody aliens?”

                  Suspiciously, everyone seemed completely hypnotized and blissfully eager to follow them wherever they led. He had tried to wake Yz up, she was usually the no-nonsense one, but she’d looked at him with vacant eyes barely recognizing him with a faint “Johnny?”.

                  He started to get really suspicious when one of the robots started looking at his behaviour, not packing like the others. It even tried to force him to drink water —dehydration was common in these airtight environments, it said. It was then it dawned on him, that there must have put something in the water. But for what? A Mars take-over?

                  How he was somehow immune? Well, for a while he’d collected the water dripping from the stones, and had analysed it, found it very pure. A few days ago, before the whole string of disasters, he’d tried to drink it, see how it tasted, and it seemed safe. Must have been why. By now, most of the stones he’d collected had dried up, and his water supply was limited.

                  While pretending to slowly pack his things, he was looking at everyone queueing in short lines, all very ecstatic to go to the implausible blue boot-ship surrounded by watchful Finnleys. The exodus had a very eerie feeling about it.

                  He could see most of the persons he knew, even the new ones, Prune cuddling a box with her hamster family, Hans, even that daft Lizette and the mines guy. The religious nuts were so stoned they were all following an obviously overdressed robot with a headpiece they probably took for their religious leader.

                  But wait… His mother? He hadn’t see her. Where had she gone?

                  #3791

                  In reply to: The Hosts of Mars

                  ÉricÉric
                  Keymaster

                    Before he retired and made cave carving his hobby, Pádraig was an IT engineer. That was a few years back, and not long after, most of them became redundant with the rise of new generations of NI (near-intelligent) phones and computers. He’d happily taken an early retirement, so that he could enjoy a simple life and get to reacquaint with his daughter. He’d succeeded at least on the first objective.

                    It was twilight when he’d left his cave, and looking at the horizon, he’d noticed strange shimmering, and a lone bird of prey circling the area in the direction of the restricted area of the desert.
                    It’d given him an idea.
                    He still had the old drone in his garage, from the time when they were all the furor. You could buy them on online stores very easily back then, even print them in your house. But then, some do-gooders became concerned, about privacy, security or all that bullshit, and they were banned. Actually, the only ones still flying where from the army, and they would tear down any unidentified hobbyist’s drone, and likely give them some jail time if they had the chance.

                    It was exciting to do something on the fringe of what was authorized. Pádraig couldn’t wait to see if he could make his old drone fly over the area, check what happened there.

                    He was a bit lost in his thoughts when the dog’s barking made him notice the white car parked in front of his aluminium trailer, which had triggered all his spotlights.
                    He had a moment of panic before he realized that the car wasn’t from the men in black or aliens, but worse. It was Imelda, his do-gooder of a daughter.

                    #3789

                    In reply to: The Hosts of Mars

                    ÉricÉric
                    Keymaster

                      When Eb woke up, there was a dozen messages left on his phone.
                      He didn’t have to check to know.
                      His mother wasn’t too subtle when he missed their weekly call.

                      She now lived in a modest retiring home in Mississippi, spending most of her time on social networks exchanging links about anything from politics and revolution and anarchy, kittens and drugs. Oh, that, and politics too. And revolution.
                      She was suffering from early stages of Alzheimer, but called it “transition” as the old-age hype advertised some decades earlier, and due to her refusal to take her prescriptions, it wasn’t improving much as time went by. But Eb’s prognosis was more like “selective Alzheimer”, as she would perfectly recall when (and how many times) he had missed their weekly calls.

                      He could already hear her complain about how she was left out of the loop, that the world story would be over by the time she catches up with all the gossips they’d hidden from her. Often, she would become so agitated that Fancy, her nurse would come help her relax and stop waking up the others. Everything was much less confusing thanks to Fancy.

                      After all that is said, he loved his mother deeply. She was always full of extravagant ideas and when she stopped doubting herself, she had her moments of sheer brilliance.

                      Being his only son, that she’d taken care of as a single mother most of her life, he felt tremendous pressure to be worthy of her sacrifices. So talking about his job wasn’t really something he liked to explore with her. If she’d known what he did for a living,… he couldn’t bear to imagine the look of crushed hopes and expectations on her devastated face. Well, suffice to say her face needn’t any of it.
                      Instead, he’d told her he was working in a tree nursery, working on pest control, with humane and eco-conscious methods. Which actually wasn’t too far off the truth. The pests were the glitches of the program, and the vegetables… well, that didn’t need much explaining.

                      “Tricia speaking, who’s this?” Eb knew she knew perfectly well it was him, but the game was ever the same
                      “Mother, it’s Eb”
                      “Ebenezer, my dear boy, how kind of you to remember your old mother. What have you been up to? So many things happened here, with that new batch of decrepit old farts who arrived last month, so much drama. But you should tell me about you. Oh, makes me recall that stupid incident, a synch! I should tell Fancy about it! Fancy, Fancy!
                      Oh dear… She’s gone cleaning up again. The last one who came in is a Chinese, and all his family is there, I bet she’s cooking some rice now, it smells funny. Fancy! Mind the rice! So well, it’s like the twins I talk with on the Internet, with funny names, Cilantro and Nutmeg, something like that, well, they have so many funny stories, like that meteor that dropped on Mars and blacked-out the TV show, they think it’s all bollocks. I told them I’d ask you about this, after all you did some studies in physics before becoming a gardener, you’ve always been the clever one in the lot, always helping with the dust stuck in my keyboard, and other IT problems. Oh dear… that was fun, but I think I must go, Fancy is waving at me, she says hello by the way! Oh, she rolls your eyes at you, how cute! Time for my siesta, … what? Oh, and change my nappies too, thanks Fancy, you’re precious, I keep forgetting everything. Talk to you soon my boy!”

                      Well… If he hadn’t been so hungover, he probably would have tried to place some funny comments, or at least a well-meaning “hmmm hmmm”, to let her know he wasn’t just letting her monologue. Today was a good day notwithstanding, she hardly had a complaint. He should remember to send Fancy a card and a nice honey pot like he did every year, she was doing wonders at pacifying his mother.

                      #3784

                      In reply to: The Hosts of Mars

                      ÉricÉric
                      Keymaster

                        Pádraig was alone as usual with his dog when he felt the first tremors. Dust started to fall from the large columns of sandstone inside the cave. He wasn’t too worried at first, as the area still had some faint thermal and seismic activity, but the second aftershock took him by surprise.

                        He almost fell violently backwards if he hadn’t had good enough reflexes to grab on the half carved ledge of the column he was working on.
                        His dog started to howl violently.

                        “Hush, Poppy!” the dust made him cough. “Must be those stupid government guys from the nearby base. I thought they’d stopped their nuclear testing decades ago…”

                        The dog didn’t stop barking though, but darted out in one of the carved galleries. It stopped just before going out of sight, as if waiting for his master.

                        “Oh, what now silly? I’m getting old for these games.”

                        But the dog was stubborn, a trait they had in common, his dead wife would have told him. So he relented, and went in the direction the dog was leading to.

                        It took him a few hundred meters in the tunnel to realize something odd had happened. The air was full of moisture, quite unusual at this time of year. He pressed on.
                        The dog’s paws were making tick-tick noises on the stones, and echoed in the chambers. His gait was less light, and he had to stop a few times to catch his breath. His life’s work was now quite monumental, and it could take quite a while to go from one end to another.
                        Before they reached the last chamber, he had to stop. His feet were getting wet.
                        It had been his dream for a long time, to bring water deep down to create a sort of natural healing pool, and bathe in the beautiful minerals, but he’d done some research, and although he’d always believed some underground river was nearby, he’d never managed to find it, or find any trace in the cadastral maps.

                        Seemed it wasn’t as far as he’d thought after all.

                        #3759

                        In reply to: The Hosts of Mars

                        ÉricÉric
                        Keymaster

                          At the Monitoring Station Alpha-7, Eb Ruide was looking lazily at logs on the big screen and surveillance images.

                          Nothing ever interesting happened on MARS. Eb used all caps in his head, to distinguish it from Mars, the real Mars. But it didn’t actually matter, they only knew about MARS (Mars Animated Realistic Simulation).

                          He hadn’t been there at the beginning, but he’d heard the stories — even if all were sworn to secrecy for the sake of the world’s peace keeping, they couldn’t help but gossip among themselves. Must have been fun back then… Not a day without trying to fix something in the simulation. The lab rats were always trying to expand their perimeter, and physical and physiological barriers had to be put in place for them to help improve the simulation.

                          They were more or less all willing subjects at the time, part of the big deception. Eb didn’t know how it changed, what made them start to believe in the illusion, and start to forget. He could only assume… many didn’t believe in the world as it was, and preferred to go back to a foregone settler era where every life counted, and you could measure yourself against the big expanse of unknown land, instead of living the comfortable torpor like he was, alone in his Monitoring Station, only virtually connected.

                          Since the Aurora, it had been a bit hectic there. Actually, a big solar flare had almost frozen their equipment, and despite all the precautions, some of it filtered through the simulation. Water had leaked too, which could have been a disaster, but interestingly, it had given some of them a purpose, and all in all, it didn’t become the dreaded event they all feared. Even if all the ins and outs and communications were filtered, you couldn’t rule out a blunder. Especially with the lack of gripping activity.

                          Something biped on his screen. A red button was suddenly lit. He’d never been trained to know what the red button meant. He had to refer it to his superior. Oh God, I hope she’ll be in a good mood… Since she started her special diet and had lost so much weight, Finnley Morgan was always a bit unpredictable and snappily dangerous.

                          The irony of the ever-calm and dulcet AI named Finnley after her in the simulation wasn’t lost on him…

                          #3726
                          TracyTracy
                          Participant

                            It had happened “once”, and it may “certainly” happen again, although “god” knows she wasn’t expecting it. One has to look “outside” periodically, especially if one endeavours to “grow”. There were times when there were comments “galore”, and characters like “bert” indulged in threadjumping ~ oh yes! indeed, there were times when it was a veritable “sea” of comments, rich with “symbol” and humour. Unexpected characters popped in , like “linda” (who the fuck is Linda, was the unspoken question on everyone’s minds), and rich with “half” assed, half hearted half measures to stay on track, much to “godfrey“s disgust. Far be it from me to “form” an opinion, Elizabeth said, foolishly: she “herself” hadn’t given a “fuck” for “months”, berating “self” for “breathing” life into the “character“s in the first place. Ah well, she did “enjoy” it at the time.

                            #3711

                            In reply to: Scrying the Word Cloud

                            TracyTracy
                            Participant

                              spot story view chair
                              happened usually himself
                              pay looks bring self above early
                              young mirabelle stopped
                              eyes rolled
                              rather empty land

                              #3683

                              In reply to: Scrying the Word Cloud

                              Jib
                              Participant

                                arrived age
                                horse karmalott above mind nobody towards somewhere
                                sent especially mentioned
                                hear linda
                                tried happened longer losing
                                free fucking choice

                                #3592
                                prUneprUne
                                Participant

                                  I don’t know what possessed Mater, but I like the new version of her.
                                  She’s a true inspiration. The way she commandeers, how she pays attention to the little things. If she wasn’t so wrinkled, I’d want to become her.
                                  She doesn’t seem to need anyone in her life, maybe that’s why she’s so strong.

                                  I don’t know how this all happened, but we now seem to do well enough. We have one paying guest (he seems to pay on time too, I don’t know where he gets that kind of money around that place), and it seems we can afford some manservant. Well, that’s something Aunt Idle would call that nice lady, surely not Mater. She was very kind to her.
                                  Hope she doesn’t get funny ideas like she should become some sort of Mary Poppins or the like.

                                  The way Mater was sad after her piggy passed, I realized having a dog is a huge commitment. I told Battista I lied and I was sorry, but we couldn’t have the puppy. I knew she wouldn’t mind, she likes to keep dogs around.

                                  Instead, I thought I could start breeding guinea pigs; they don’t live too long. Everybody thought stealing the fish was just a prank, but I wanted to pawn it to kick-start my business. The sad truth is that it isn’t worth a dime.
                                  Luckily, Bert who noticed me, said he would help.
                                  I wonder why the only persons I can relate to are more than ten times my age… Sometimes I’m like an alien in my own family.

                                  #3590

                                  In reply to: The Hosts of Mars

                                  prUneprUne
                                  Participant

                                    Prune’s journal

                                    The quarantine wasn’t as long as expected, we’ll be on Mars tomorrow. The Indian guy didn’t explain much of what happened. Maybe it was just a drill.
                                    Anyhow, Hans has kept his promise, and the guinea pig is fine. Somehow, it seems to have grown stronger in space. Maybe the lesser gravity?
                                    Mater would have liked it.
                                    Speaking of Mater, I got that strange feeling she’s with me somehow. Funny, come to think of it, she was always the one talking about the spirit world. Was never really sure if she was well in her head when she finally opened to me about it (everything else showed that yes, she was nowhere near senility, even before death struck).
                                    If someone should chose to play poltergeist after all, who else than Mater. Way to go Ma!

                                    #3588

                                    In reply to: The Hosts of Mars

                                    ÉricÉric
                                    Keymaster

                                      Area 12 was easy to locate. The whole ship’s design was shaped like a clock, with the 12 quadrant at her helm, with the main deck. It was also where, everyone had been briefed after boarding, the main emergency exits were located.
                                      Something serious must have had happened for the Code Red to have been triggered.

                                      Captain Rama Shivakumar was trying his best to gather information from the central command, but Finnley was reacting very unusually. Quantum computers and artificial intelligence was still a rather new technology. Remarkably efficient, but its bugs were terribly difficult to understand and fix, and certainly above his pay grade.
                                      Ram’s second in command, Karthikeya Uthayashankar was coordinating the crew’s efforts to sweep the ship for clues. It seemed that Finnley’s sensors had panicked at some unusual and very localized electromagnetic pulse, which could have seriously damaged the navigational systems and put everyone’s lives in dire straits.

                                      By looking through the logs, the pulse seemed to have originated from Area 6, in the quadrant that was reserved for the honoured guests, currently occupied by Mother Shirley and her following.

                                      “Captain Ram, did you find anything?” Karthik enquired, fidgeting at the prospect of having to manage beside his crew of ten fellow men, a unruly herd of thirty snotty travelers. He seriously doubted that in times like this, the 21 finnleys would be of sure-footed help to them.
                                      “Relax, Karthik. The computer most likely overheated. See, it already has adjusted its parameters, and there isn’t much we can detect now that’s out of normal.”
                                      “And what about the passengers, Captain?”
                                      “We’ll send them to Mangala. It’s only a day before schedule, it will be fine.”

                                      #3552
                                      TracyTracy
                                      Participant

                                        Corrie:

                                        “Why have you locked your door, Aunt Idle?” I asked, after waiting rather a long time for her to open it. She looked a bit flushed, so I looked around to see if she had another feller in there but she didn’t, not unless he was hiding in the closet. She didn’t usually hide her lovers from us though, and anyway, I had more important things on my mind.

                                        “Mater’s still missing and it’s been dark for an hour already, what should we do?”

                                        Aunt Idle just stared at me with her mouth open and didn’t say anything.

                                        “We can’t just go to bed, what if something’s happened to her? Nobody even knows where she went!”

                                        “Mater’s missing, is that what you’re telling me?” she asked, just as if it was the first she’d heard about it. “Have you checked her room? Did she leave a note or a clue or anything? For heaven’s sake, Corrie, why on earth didn’t you tell me sooner! Go and fetch Prune, well wake her up then!” she added as I protested that she’d gone to bed ages ago. “Prune always seems to know things. And where’s Bert? Has he seen her?”

                                        “I’m trying to tell you, Auntie, that nobody knows!”

                                        #3485

                                        By the time Mirabelle and Igor had recovered from physical effects of the abrupt emotional catapult during their teleport to find Lisa, Fanella, Ivan and Sanso, they found themselves alone on the sandy beach. Bewildered, they looked around but could find no sign of the others that they had momentarily seen as they landed, before collapsing in bodily distress.
                                        Weakly, Mirabelle sank down onto the sand, and looked at Igor questioningly. “What do we do now? My head is spinning still and I need a drink of water. Where are we?”
                                        Igor, drained of energy and just as puzzled, straightened his back and tried to sound reassuring.
                                        “Something very peculiar has happened. See these mangrove trees? They have grown at least a meter taller since a few minutes ago when we landed. And see this log here, this wasn’t here a few moments ago. It can’t have washed up while I was having a crap behind the bushes. Something has happened to time.”
                                        “You mean we’ve time traveled again? I don’t think I can stand much more of this,” replied Mirabelle, starting to weep.
                                        “Come now Mirabelle, sitting here sniveling won’t help. On your feet, girl, we will walk until we find some kind of civilization.” Igor pulled her to her feet, scanning the surroundings. “This way,” he said firmly, setting off along the beach. “I have a feeling there is something over there,” he said, pointing towards the east.

                                      Viewing 20 results - 141 through 160 (of 266 total)