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  • #4539

    Fox, layered in warm clothes, looked dubiously at the hellishcopter. He had assumed it was fantastic and awe inspiring creature from the underworld. But it wasn’t.

    “It’s a carpet with a circular wooden platform,” he said, feeling a bit disappointed. He noticed the steam that formed out of his mouth with every word and it made him feel cold despite the numerous layers around him.
    The carpet was floating limply above its shadow on the snow. It looked old and worn out by years of use. The reds blues and greens were dull and washed-out, and it was hard to tell apart the original motives from stains. Oddly enough it was clear of dust.

    “Not just a carpet, said Lhamom with her usual enthusiasm illuminating her face. It’s a magic carpet.” She wore that local coat of them which looked so thin compared to his multiple layers, but she had assured him it was warm enough for far worse temperatures. Steam was also coming out of her mouth when she talked.

    Fox was still not convinced. “And how fast does it go?”

    “Fast enough,” said Lhamom. “You’ll all be back in no time to the forest.”
    “Isn’t there a risk for the luggage to fall off? I don’t see any practical way to attach them.”
    “Oh! Sure,” retorted Lhamom with an amused look. “You won’t fall from the platform unless someone pushes you out.”
    Fox winced and gulped. His mind had showed him someone shaken by an uncontrollable movement and pushing him off the platform above the sharp mountain tops, and even if it his fantasy had no sound, it was not very reassuring.

    Lhamom looked at him sharply. “Are you afraid of heights?” she asked.
    Fox shrugged and looked away at Rukshan who was busy packing the camp with Olliver and their guide.
    “What if I am?” Fox said.
    “I have some pills,” she said, foraging in her numerous pockets. She brandished victoriously an old little wooden box that she opened and showed him brown pills that looked and smelled like they had been made by dung beetles.

    Rukshan had finished his packing and was approaching them with a messenger bag.
    “Don’t play with him too much, he said, in his current state Fox’s will swallow everything, except food.” Rukshan and Olliver laughed. Fox didn’t know what to make of it, feeling too exhausted to find clever retorts. Lhamom winked at him and put the pills back in her pocket.

    Rukshan put his hand on Fox’s shoulder. “We’re going home through a sand portal, he said giving putting a hand on his bag. I’ve gathered coloured sand from the different places we visited and Lhamom had brought some holy dripping water collected from the running nose of the lama headmaster of Pulmol Mountain when he last had a cold.”
    That sounded a little complicated to Fox and he didn’t try to make sense of it.
    “We’ll only go on the hellishcopter to fly throught the portal with all the stuff we collected. But I need time to make the sand portal, and from what you reported the dogs have said, we may only have little time available before that thing you have felt come to us.”

    Fox started. With his bowel adventures and Rukshan’s previous dismissal of the matter, Fox had forgotten about the odd presence he had smelled and that had seemed to preoccupy the hunting dogs at night.
    “What do you mean?” he asked, trying to not let worry crept back in his mind.
    “I first thought it was fantasies coming out of your imagination because of your poor health condition, but when I told Lhamom this morning she told me what it was.” Rukshan hesitated.
    “What? asked Fox, his heartbeat going faster.
    “Some kind of ancient spirit roaming through the mountain. It feeds of human flesh and is attracted by magic. It was liberated by an earthquake recently and it that Olliver and Tak felt. Up until now the dogs, who are the gardians of the mountains, were enough to ward it off for us despite the presence of the baby snoot. But now that Lhamom has brought the spoon and that I’m going to use magic for the portal, it may get bolder and the dogs will not be enough to stop it. Fortunately it only gets out at night, so we have ample enough time, Rukshan said cheerfully. Olliver also is exhausted and he can’t use his teleporting abilities for all of us. By using a sand portal I may even be able to lay a trap for the spirit when we leave, but I need to begin now and let’s pray the weather remains clear and windless.”

    It took some time for the meaning and the implications of flesh eating to sink into Fox’s mind. He looked nervously at the sky where it seemed a painter had splashed a few white strokes of clouds with his giant brush. Were they still or moving? Fox couldn’t tell. He looked back at Rukshan and Lhamom.
    “What can I do to help?”
    “I need you to explain the plan to the dogs so that they release the spirit when I give the signal.”

    #4518
    TracyTracy
    Participant

      Annabel Ingram, while aimlessly perusing the pile of old notebooks she’d picked up at the second hand market, felt the familiar sense of slack jawed wide eyed wonder at the unexpected synchronicity. How did that happen all the time! Annabel had opened to an entry about teeth, just after taking a call from the dentist about an emergency appointment for her partner. Not only that, but on impulse earlier in the day, she’d joined a favourite book share game with a few friends ~ despite previously ignoring it because of the difficulty of choosing favourites when there were so many.

      Sighing heavily, Annabel noted that the summer had been unusually humid, too.

      “Let’s just hope there are no booklice,” she muttered.

      #4514

      The so-called Police quickly left when they noticed there wasn’t much on the travellers, and that they didn’t look threatening.

      If you’re looking for a place to stay the tallest one said you should go to the Hoping Spice Hospice, it’s not far away from the main street, just three blocks north of here. He looked at the sky, where the waxing gibbous moon was rising.

      I wouldn’t stray too much outside if I were you. The desert black jackals are restless this time of year. He looked at Fox who was fidgeting suspiciously. The lack of sleep and being back in human form when they were called by the Police made him nervous.

      Then, we’ll be on our way. Peace be upon you, Constable. Rukshan said, pushing forward.

      :fleuron:

      The Hospice was an unassuming building, like all the other mud brick houses, except it probably had been lime washed in the past, and patches of the external wall had whitish spots shining under the moon sky.

      The veiled nurse in charge of the night service was sternly quiet, and guided them to a common room. Almost all the beds were full, and the patients seemed to have a fitful sleep.

      “What are those?” Olliver said before Rukshan could shush him. He was pointing at the oil lamps regularly spread across the room, which were shining with a dancing faint blue light.

      “Spirits…” whispered Fox gloomily “Captured spirits…”

      #4513
      ÉricÉric
      Keymaster

        “I feel really bad now,” Godfrey said to nobody in particular, although he hoped Finnley’s hearing was as good as usual, while she was busying herself dusting the booklice off bookshelves. With the humidity, there was an infestation, and Finnley was polishing her art of war against the invaders in novel ways each day.

        “There’s really no need” she answered, or maybe she wasn’t, but Godfrey was glad for their parallel monologues.

        “True, true, nobody has really forced anybody into a tooth synch…”

        “How clogged is the sink is what to think about…” never-missing-a-bit-of-synch Finnley answered, taking her bag of booklice harvest to the kitchen.
        Then, smiling wickedly while raising the bag to eye level “not as good as huhu bugs, but hey, it’ll make for a easier to chew medicine…”

        #4507

        It was still raining clumps of wet sand when Rukshan, Olliver, Fox and Twee arrived at the oasis.
        The light had dimmed and there was a feeling of hope mixed with dread in the vicinity. Only a mud brick wall no higher than a man’s waist was surrounding the village; and despite the infelicitous weather, standing here were a pair of sentinels so covered in sand clumps that they almost looked like a pair of stone wyverns guarding the entrance.

        “Sسلام Salum’ friends. We are simple merchants, passing through, please allow us some shelter for the night” explained Rukshan using what he could remember of his rusty Nomads’ old tongue.

        After a long silent glance at his strange companions, they shrugged and nodded him that he could go through.

        Rukshan signaled to the others to follow him. The central paved road was leading the the market place, which would constitute, with the masjid, the centre of the city, and the most likely place to find answers on their quest.

        Everyone seemed to have retreated to their places, in caves or the homes built on top of the caves from excavated materials. It was rather quiet except from the occasional thump noise made by the rain.

        They were about to enter an alley when they heard someone loudly call them.
        “Stop right here, Plastic Ban Police! – show us your bags and IDs.”

        #4493

        “Did you know that the beyond of the deserts was the birth place of the Master’s tribes — the guy who gave life to Gorrash” Fox said to Olliver in a conspiratorial voice. “I kind of miss him… though he’s too heavy to carry around by day, this chump.” He mused while wagging his tail smelling around for crunchy scorpions.

        “Funny you would say that” said Rukshan, who was ahead of their group, between long strides on top of the sand dunes. “I had dreams about this place, and I get the feeling there is some connection to old Fay legends about these tribes. The Sand tribes had old ties to Fays of the Woods, some said they were even more advanced in the Arts — alchemy mostly. But most of the knowledge has been lost. Only legends remain — that they could crystallise diamonds imbued with life… this sort of things. Some versions of the legends spoke of darker truths, that the diamonds were made to capture elementals, to give them power…”

        He stopped in his tracks. Looking at the horizon, the oasis village they were walking towards started to reveal itself. A beautiful patch of green against the variations of sand colours.

        “If we keep on, we’ll arrive before sunset. Come on!”

        #4487

        Something seemed to jump from one of those anormal birds. A small dark spot in the sky at first it began to spread and look like a giant red flying squirrel and it was diving right at them. Rukshan caught Olli who was running around like mad and making the baby snoot nervous.
        “Relax. I think I know who it is,” he said.
        The creature landed in a geyser of sand and tumbled toward them. Rukshan pushed gently Olli to let it go its way and the ball of red hairs tumbled farther away. It sat in the sand, dazed.
        “Hi, Fox,” said Rukshan. “You couldn’t be left behind, could you?”
        Fox who had taken back his human form enough to speak.
        “There are more of them flying over the forest. I hijacked one of them to find you. I think Leroway has found new friends. I thought I could do like those squirrels, but I think I need more practice.” He said, spitting sand from his mouth.

        #4481
        TracyTracy
        Participant

          “In the pentatonic scale of things, one can only shake ones head kindly,” mumbled Liz, humming tunefully. “Of course, geotectonically speaking, “ she added, “Would be quite another matter, and could potentially result in considerably more shaking than an indulgent platonic head.”

          #4470

          Despite using his human form frequently, Tak was at heart still the same little gibbon his friend had found in the bamboo forest.

          A lot of his inner turmoil had been transformed, like a new skin on a wound, especially after the ceremony. He no longer felt the weight of the other lives they had lived, nor the stir of revenge that was festering inside. His heart was like a forest after a fire, growing anew, fresh below the cover of dead ashes.

          During the past months, he had been mostly busy with himself. He couldn’t avoid the classes that Rukshan would teach him in the morning, but it still left a good deal of free time. He would wander in the nearby woods, listening to the sounds, exploring where it felt safe enough, and at times jumping from branch to branch in his gibbon form.
          He could feel Fox was a bit envious at times —struggling too much to retain his human form. It would become more difficult with the age, to stay longer in a form especially if you started to master it later in age. So he had to enjoy and relish the fact he was still young.

          In the forest, he had felt disturbance, but nothing like the ghosts that had chased them a long time back. There was work done at a distance, and it displaced creatures, the forest was angry. His companions too, and Fox was talking about doing sabotage work. Rukshan had asked him to take no part in it, but there was no telling how long he could resist the call.

          When he entered that night back in the cabin, there was a strange smell, something subtle and precious, like smokey and peppered with ambergris and with a feel of dew on a fresh lettuce. It came from a small package on the drawer in the burka lady’s quarter.
          It smelt too good. Surreptitiously he entered the room and opened the little thing, there was a creamy substance in it. Surely some nice spread for freshly baked bread.
          He couldn’t resist, the smell was tantalising. He dipped one finger, licked it, and… wow… in three quick gulps, licked the whole thing clear.

          Tak was at heart still the same mischievous little gibbon his mother loved so much.

          #4446

          Margoritt’s left knee was painful that day. Last time it hurt so much was twenty years ago, during that notorious drought when a fire started and almost burnt the whole forest down. Only a powerful spell from the Fae people could stop it. But today they sky was clear, and the forest was enjoying a high degree of humidity from the last magic rain. Margoritt, who was not such a young lady anymore dismissed the pain as a sign of old age.
          You have to accept yourself as you are at some point, she sighed.

          The guests were still there, and everyone was participating to the life of the community. Eleri, who had been sick had been taken care of in turn by Fox and Glynnis, while Rukshan had reorganised the functioning of the farm. They now had a second cow and produced enough milk to make cakes and butter that they sold to the neighbouring Faes, and they had a small herd of Rainbow Lamas that produced the softest already colourful wool, among other things. Gorrash, awoken at night, had formed an alliance with the owls that helped them to keep the area clear of mice and rats and was also in charge of the weekly night fireworks.

          The strange colourful eggs had hatched recently giving birth to strange little creatures that were not yet sure of which shape to adopt. They sometimes looked like cuddly kittens, sometimes like cute puppies, or mischievous monkeys. They always took the form of a creature with a tail, except when they were frightened and turned into a puddle. It had been hard for Margoritt who mistook them for dog pee, but Fox had been very helpful with his keen sense of smell and washing away the poor creatures had been avoided. Nobody had any idea if they could survive once diluted in water.

          The day was going great, Margoritt sat on her rocking chair enjoying a fresh nettle lassi on the terrace while doing some embroidery work on Eleri’s blouse. Her working kit was on a small stool in front of her. Working with her hands helped her forget about her knee and also made her feel useful in this youthful community where everybody wanted to help her. She was rather proud of her last design representing a young girl and a god statue holding hands together. She didn’t think of herself as a matchmaker, but sometimes you just had to give a little push when fate didn’t want to do its job.

          Micawber Minn arrived, his face as long as the Lamazon river. He had the latest newspaper with him and put it on Margoritt’s lap. Surprise and a sudden sharp and burning pain in her knee made her left leg jerk forward, strewing all her needles onto the floor. Margoritt, upset, looked at the puddle of lassi sluggishly starting to covering them up.
          “What…” she began.
          “Read the damn paper,” said Minn.

          She did. The front page mentioned the reelection of Leroway as Lord Mayor, despite his poor results in developing the region.
          “Well, that’s not surprising,” Margoritt said with a shrug, starting to feel angry at Minn for frightening her.
          “Read further,” said Minn suddenly looking cynical.
          Margoritt continued and gasped. Her face turned blank.
          “That’s not possible. We need to tell the other,” she said. “We can not let Leroway build his road through the forest.”

          #4437

          In reply to: Scrying the Word Cloud

          ÉricÉric
          Keymaster

            hole sat rukshan rid speak
            gardener arrived half latest live
            enter human cover away
            mater arms side characters
            once world rest

            #4425

            In reply to: Scrying the Word Cloud

            TracyTracy
            Participant

              far gardener pulled peanut
              distance snow ages
              human spent immediately
              shoulder woke
              known loudly hanging
              leaving indeed believe
              love ones cleaning

              #4405

              In reply to: Scrying the Word Cloud

              ÉricÉric
              Keymaster

                hut silence arrived humans
                air fell comes above ape raised
                paused taking particular powerful window entrance
                death rather waiting minutes dry

                #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?

                  #4392
                  Jib
                  Participant

                    “Tourists!” shouted Ugo the gecko to his albino friends. They all stopped and turned their heads in unison to look at the two humans who had entered the premises, inside their small chests their hearts beating fast with excitement like so many small shamanic drums that only gecko ears could hear. Ugo was so engrossed in those two humongous creatures and the hypnotic rhythm of his friends’ heartbeats that he didn’t see the suckers from his front left paw were getting loose again. They had been damaged in a fight with a twirling bat one week ago and they still hadn’t heal nicely because he didn’t care so much. Soon his left paw got detached from the ancient stones of the wall, followed by his right and soon he fell. But like he was made of sticking rubber the fall was short and he got stuck again on a lower stone, walking on the head of a few friends in the process.

                    “Sorry for that! I’ll have them checked, promise.”

                    Some of the geckos missed a heartbeat, frightened by the sudden turmoil. They ran in what might appear random directions and panic quickly spread among the albino geckolony on the wall. By a miracle of nature and because they were all so fascinated by tourists, the geckos rearranged nicely only to stop a sucking steps away and turned their head back again toward the tourists. Their hearts beating in unison again.

                    “Look! that dark wall over there with the white hieroglyphs. I’m sure it just moved!” said the tallest of the tourists. She was curious and decided to go watch by herself what that curious wall was about.

                    #4370

                    The memories of the strange vision had faded away. Only the feeling of awe was lingering in his heart.

                    Fox was walking in the forest near Margoritt’s cottage. The smell of humid soil was everywhere. Despite it being mostly decomposing leaves and insects, Fox found it quite pleasant. It carried within it childhood memories of running outside after the rain whild Master Gibbon was trying to teach him cleanliness. It had been a game for many years to roll into the mud and play with the malleable forest ground to make shapes of foxes and other animals to make a public to Gibbon’s teachings.

                    Fox had been walking around listening to the sucking sound made by his steps to help him focus back on reality. He was trying to catch sunlight patches with his bare feet, the sensations were cold and exquisite. The noise of the heavy rain had been replaced by the random dripping of the drops falling from the canopy as the trees were letting go of the excess of water they received.

                    It was not long before he found Gorrash. The dwarf was back in his statue state, he was face down, deep in the mud. Fox crouched down and gripped his friend where he could. He tried to release him from the ground but the mud was stronger, sucking, full of water.

                    “You can leave him there and wait the soil to dry. You can’t fight with water”, said Margorrit. “And I think that when it’s dry, we’ll have a nice half-mold to make a copy of your friend.”

                    Fox laughed. “You have so many strange ideas”, he told the old woman.

                    “Well, it has been my strength and my weakness, I have two hands and a strong mind, and they have always functioned together. I only think properly when I use my hands. And my thoughts always lead me to make use of my hands.”

                    Fox looked at Margoritt’s wrinkled hands, they were a bit deformed by arthritis but he could feel the experience they contained.

                    “Breakfast’s ready”, she said. “I’ve made some honey cookies with what was left of the the flour. And Glynis has prepared some interesting juices. I like her, she has a gift with colours.”

                    They left the dwarf to dry in the sun and walked back to the house where the others had already put everything on the table. Fox looked at everyone for a moment, maybe to take in that moment of grace and unlikely reunion of so many different people. He stopped at Rukshan who had a look of concern on his face. Then he started when Eleri talked right behind him. He hadn’t hear her come.

                    “I think I lost him”, she said. “What’s for breakfast? I’m always starving after shrooms.”

                    #4369
                    Jib
                    Participant

                      The door bell rang and Finnley left Liz confused by the present the maid had brought her from Bali. It was the statue of a man in a strange position. Liz had no clue what he was doing, but the statue was so big she could imaging using it as a stool with small silk cushion to make it more comfortable. It was made of wood. Liz touched the head of the statue and felt a momentary lapse.

                      “hum!”
                      Liz started. “Oh you’re back”, she said to Finnley with a smile. Finnley looked at her suspiciously.

                      “Did you take something while I was answering at the door?”

                      “Oh! right the door. Who was that?”

                      “Journalists. They are here for the documentary movie.”

                      The fleeting state of bliss was gone. “Journalists? For me?”

                      “For who else?” asked Finnley, raising her eyes. “Godfrey?”

                      #4366
                      ÉricÉric
                      Keymaster

                        It’s all a bit quiet there, where have they all gone again? One could hear plants growing in that silence.

                        “Finnley!” she shouted across the mansion, pondering at what demoniac activity the maid was devoted recently.

                        She hadn’t seen the maid in the all of the week, but somehow they had been communicating in a sort of eerie telepathic way, by subtle positions of objects in the house. A piece of clothe in this or that position would mean, please wash it hasta pronto, but if it was slightly above ground, she somehow would get it was meant to be just folded for another use. There had been a silent tug of war as to where the towel would dry, as she didn’t like it to be in the humid bathroom. And for every lunch, she would find something prepared in the fridge, ready to be heated in the microwave oven.

                        But she had to tell her, that was enough with chicken and grilled aubergines. A little variety would go a long way…

                        #4359
                        ÉricÉric
                        Keymaster

                          “So, that’s where the gardener has been hiding all this time…” Godfrey thought, quietly stepping out of the shadows into the sinkhole tunnels. “Maybe I’ll just tell Liz’ he has resigned. Although she seemed more taken by this one than with the previous guys…”
                          While the gardener was snoring loudly, he took time to look around, and noticed the sprouting sack.
                          “How curious that those old books have started to come to life again…”

                          An idea had crossed his mind, both dreadful and exciting. The portal…

                          Leaving the gardener to his dreams, and taking another secret exit out of the dark tunnel, opening another succession of doors with the turn of a key hanging from the watch chain of his burgundy waistcoat, he soon found himself reappearing into a deep secret place. A small round room, almost like the inner chamber of a burrow, with no visible door, no window, seemingly lit only by a single ray of light coming from the pinhole in the ceiling, reflected on the glittering curved walls. At one side, was a well, and one could hear the humming sound of flowing underground water.
                          On the well, where deeply carved words : “HC SVNT DRACONES”. Just below them, painted in white in Godfrey’s flowering handwriting : “Here be dragons!”

                          There still was the heavy latch, bolted by a large futuristic-looking lock.

                          Phew, still closed. Godfrey sighed a sigh of relief. He couldn’t imagine the damage to Liz’ frail hold on reality, where she to find about what was lurking behind.

                          Popping a peanut in his mouth, he smiled wryly, reminisced of what Finnley had said about her “discovering” of the attic; yes, their secret was fine with them for now. At least so long as what was locked on the other side stayed there of course…

                          #4346
                          Jib
                          Participant

                            At that moment the trap in the ceiling opened revealing the dark attic.

                            “Is that smoke coming from the attic?” asked Godfrey, suddenly worried someone had started a fire up there.

                            “It’s looking more like mist,” said Liz who had suddenly forgotten about her unborn babies. “You know, in those mystery novels they add some when they want to create an atmosphere of suspens.”

                            Godfrey looked doubtful as the mist was continuing to pour down from the attic in slow motion, like the harbinger of a darker secret. A loud noise made them jump. A metallic ladder, apparently attached on the attic’s floor which was the corridor’s ceiling, unfolded quickly. It stopped just before hitting the floor.

                            They all looked at each others, waiting for someone to say something. Anything.

                            “Go have a look, Godfrey,” said Liz.
                            “Shouldn’t it be Walter? He’s from the police after all, if there is danger he should be the one to take the lead.”

                            Liz looked a bit uncomfortable.
                            “I’m not sure,” she said in a hum. “There might be some dark secrets I don’t want to reveal to outsiders.”

                            “Are you coming or what?” Said a voice coming from the attic.

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