Search Results for 'ink'
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Search Results
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In reply to: The Eights’ Shift, Stories
“The fact of the matter, Finnley,” Liz whispered confidentially to her dear freind, “ is that I feel scared to say something discontinous now, which results in me saying nothing (or rather, not all that much).”
“Leave it with me, Ann dear” replied the resourceful Finnley. “I’ll have a word with God about nonsense.”
“Liz” corrected Liz.
“Oh dear. I think you’ve been infected with the continuity virus.” Finnley looked worried.
In reply to: The Eights’ Shift, Stories
Well I don’t know about you, she said to whoever was listening, but I am inclined to think that something rather than nothing, even if that something is off the track, round the bend, out of line, unsupported by connecting links or threads, or simply just plain rubbish, is better than no thing at all. The time has come, dear freinds, to resume random impulsive meaningless nonsense, for it has far greater continuity than anything that might actually mean something however so much as it might be deemed continuous ~ for, and I express the blindingly obvious, there is no continuity thread to be found in nothing-at-all-ness.
In reply to: Random RewrEights – The Del’Eights thread
Elizabeth frowned as she hung Finnley.
“crazy!” he’d said. “killing spiders and magpies and lord knows what else”
“Woohoo”
Really, Elizabeth could be exasperating at times
Finnley had been silent hung in frustration floated across of Elizabeth’s closed eyes as she lay on the bed.
She was aware of the breeze and the giraffes heat was intense, heavy.
spiders webs, and the sound of gurgling….
and then silence and the tinkling of windchimes….
Big brown eyes atop gaze at Elizabeth as her eyes flutter open and then close again.
Elizabeth can see the head and shoulders and the serious face, she can see the lips up and down and round and round …..
Elizabeth drifted off to sleep.
In reply to: Scrying the Word Cloud
Eyes previous threads ~
Nobody!
Finnley free rather real string writing;
Strings tell attempt;
Lack experience.Dragons, whatever…
Stop!
Wondered…
Attention certainly taking,
Mused write somewhat ~
Seem face thinking…
Taken, wrote silly, shouted dancing!
Enjoyed!
Exclaimed comments ~
Voice life thread!In reply to: Scrying the Word Cloud
Sense turned string words,
Fine text answer.
Let liked, thinking needed Jane;
Lady thought ground itself getting cleaning!
Bugger future map.In reply to: Random RewrEights – The Del’Eights thread
Leo sighed, dropping her hairy butler, revealing her wrinkled scratched crotch…ruffled itchy body parts.
She drew a dangling deeply buried bosom, then stopped for a moment before unbuttoning her tight blouse and removing the corset that was constraining her breath.
Smiling wickedly, she recoiled ~ Lordy, what a stench! There’s no point in making over… I will soon be off.The pale figure whined, closing the wrong transaction.
Chris felt that there was more to grasp, and wanted to share, and he was alone. At least, It had all been a lot easier thinking a good victim act would soon make things wrong altogether. It was not about freedom and emotional blackmail, obviously, it had been the first time he had seen the girl unbearable. Who had any reason to be heard again? Somehow, Juan was a town gossip, not legally, but he had decided to take his Nicar Agua to Brazil.
But who really cared? Looking at trunk, It was a brief. It was linked to the old man…..In reply to: Scrying the Word Cloud
Morning cat work meaning Tina assignment
dragons taking news planet beautiful start
wondered away harvey truth yourself
communications large full surpriselinks random needed fishes please
remarked friend forgotten story
seem tree message gone
stay under create body
weaving somehow answer rememberIn reply to: The Eights’ Shift, Stories
As far as the Ooh-dimension was concerned, the shift of Vowellness was probably complete
“Thank Flove for that!” Ann (or was it Elizabeth?) exclamied. She continued to read the contents of the large manila envelope that had been delivered several weeks late due to the postal strike.
“Postal strike?” Gordon (or was it Godfrey?) inquired sarcastically. “Ann ~ or is it Liz? ~ surely you just made that up! Do you need an excuse?”
LizAnn chose to ignore her old freind Pig Littleton and continued to read.
And she couldn’t find anything new being published by Ms Tattler in all now probable directions she was looking into.
LizAnn snorted.
She was of course ignoring the disrupted echoes from the Jumbled Eights thread, which were probably the brainstorming board of ideas of the writer, which she had the greatest difficulty to follow (she wondered if even the writer could).
Reaching for her handkerchief, LizAnn snorted again. “No the writer bloody can’t follow it” she muttered. “But does it bloody matter!”
Her own thread and the details of the history of the Wrick family was always sketchy and full of holes;
“Aha Ha Ha Ha”
she’d attempted at learning more about the elusive Becky , but she kept blinking in and out of continuity, too quickly for her to follow her anywhere in her explorations
“Yes, where the devil IS Becky, Gordfry? or is it Godon?”
In reply to: Random RewrEights – The Del’Eights thread
The sky was most unusual. Something definitely weird was happpening.
Yann was looking at a TV show in which a clown was trying to juggle with his clothes.
Yann switched off the tv set and chose to go the cat in her basket.
“There you are!”
“Absolutely Sir”.
“Good very Good.”
Taking deep puffs of his pipe, he looked like a botle green velvet sofa, and that, combined with the crazy Baron of the nearby village, was the surest way of being left alone.
“The curious police want to know the details?” asked the Baron
“Not really … well now you make me think of it .. I reckon a bit.”
“ahahahahaha!” the manic laughter was infectious. Strange bugs were dancing. little dark skinned performers, tickling like an army of ants.
Rather than laughing, he’d taken a moment to consider the options. Obviously he couldn’t refuse help as his business had recently been pregnant, giving birth to conjoined twins.
So to speak.
In reply to: Strings of Nines
New Venice, October 2117
Now, where were we? Midora suddenly felt that the need for an agenda was called for. Spread out in front of her were a few collages and some balls of energy from all the links and connections she had found in the stories of her ancestors and gathered so far.
Since her fathers Oscar and Bart had adopted the twins Hari and Jacq, her usually tidy room had been a mess. Fortunately, the adoption was almost complete, and in a mere week, the twins would then be able to choose another family, which they made clear they intended to do. She felt so appreciative that adoption was no longer bound by traditional laws of responsibility of the parents and ridden by culpability; instead, it was a healthier cooperation between the parents and children, and children were free to go with other families if they felt the desire for a different experience.
When they’d adopted Hari and Jacq, Bart and Oscar had wanted for a continuation of the experience of bringing up children, which they did not have for a long time with Midora, as she was quite independent from an early age. And in truth, Jacq and Hari were very interactive and playful, and to be perfectly honest, quite a handful; in a few weeks, the apartment would surely seem deserted and empty.So, during that time, Midora’s researches on the stories had been put to a halt, and a lots of her energy balls which were usually neatly ordered on her lightboard were now merged for some, changed of forms for others… all thanks to her half-bros. She barely knew were to start to get a better view of it now.
Let me see… there were a few threads going on there, and all we need is untangle some of them…
She’d had fun reconnecting with the “Island of Dr Transvestite” theme, but now she found out, her favorite characters Shar and Glor, were now disembodied, stranded in transition, and perhaps waiting to be reborn to a nine-titted alien in the Worseversity after failed attempts of channeling. So far, no signs of developments for them though.
As far as the Ooh-dimension was concerned, the shift of Vowellness was probably complete, and she couldn’t find anything new being published by Ms Tattler in all now probable directions she was looking into. She was of course ignoring the disrupted echoes from the Jumbled Eights thread, which were probably the brainstorming board of ideas of the writer, which she had the greatest difficulty to follow (she wondered if even the writer could).
Her own thread and the details of the history of the Wrick family was always sketchy and full of holes; she’d attempted at learning more about the elusive Becky , but she kept blinking in and out of continuity, too quickly for her to follow her anywhere in her explorations.
Oh, and the Alienor dimension was still going on, though most of its development wasn’t yet showing up. What had happened of Arona, Franiel, Irtak’s father, the gripshawk? And now that Malvina was gone too… She’d found Mrs Chesterhope after her strange amnesiac shapeshifting accident however; and that was encouraging.
So strange, all of these characters are so alive, she thought fondly, and yet none of them seem motivated enough to project themselves out with force and steadiness into her energy balls which still had a sort of blurriness and haphazardness to them.
She made the intent to project more energy in the direction of stabilizing the currents of the strands of stories, and the energy balls’ colors started to shimmer lightly. That was certainly the way to go. Which one would be the most alluring to explore and follow?
In reply to: Random RewrEights – The Del’Eights thread
Who the bloody hell is Becky Huh? Well, the same I’ve been waiting for AGES well after her long absence. Poor thing seemed to think it was he, Sanso.
Search for Ted got the head of Becky.
Twilight in your mind. wig is just great Bekkie ; a variation of a variation of you look ; terrible!
Nurse insisted in more intimate moments of course.
In reply to: Random RewrEights – The Del’Eights thread
There was a light on in the office. Perhaps the sun doesn’t shine?
Finnley cheered up Elizabeth and offered congratulations to the others not chosen to succeed.
“Listen to your heart and remember that I sprinkle you with bottled water.”
She had no idea what happened, but she suspected a couple of guests locked in the closet, and on the run, had been tiring. As Dr Lemane, the sniggley one said, “It’s a bit odd, don’t you think?”
In reply to: Strings of Nines
After five years of training of the dragon twins, Irtak was to do for the first time an act that would finally make him not just a dragon rider, but a dragon breeder in his own right. He had to part ways with them.
It was harder than he’d expected. He knew that if he wanted to bring more dragons into the great stream of the Duane’s life, he couldn’t only focus on the two buoyant twins. It’d taken them that long to manage channeling the intense energy of the two, and balancing their thirst of discovery with patience and adequacy of action.
Parting now was almost heart-breaking for him, even though the dragons had been reassuring they were only longing for new adventures with new companionship.In fact, they were so longing that they would have almost gone with any stranger, or perhaps even just on their own —reluctant as they were to admit they also greatly enjoyed human’s company. However, Irtak wanted to make sure they would be taken care of by not just anybody; as powerful as dragons were, the two were almost innocent and very young for that race, and they would greatly benefit from some wise tutelage.
Now that Malvina had left the cave, he didn’t know who to turn to for advice, and was feeling a bit forlorn, though his glubolin was still working fine. He’d been thinking about it for quite some time, and realized that some travel would really do him good, so he finally began packing.
The Southern Shores of Lan’ork would make a great destination to find a proper owner for the twins, and an interesting starting point for new adventures.In reply to: Random RewrEights – The Del’Eights thread
Her thinking promised life to those trying something different and now such a thing was possible. There was an atrocious dry mixture of plants to ingest which grew in the cemeteries of the Wise Ones, mixed with an herb from her father, Captain of the Tentacles. Very respected, he had a radiating power.
Dory had enjoyed a young wanderer, no need to beat her for that. Becky was very exciting and she barely knew where to start. One that had attracted her was Aratta, before she got stuck to a cushion. She was barely able to move, Dan had to calm her down.
I’m awfully embarrassed, but I’m stuck!
Oh dear! It’s natural, after all you decided to dance with what was coming….
In reply to: Random RewrEights – The Del’Eights thread
Tina was happy and winked. Her mind was made up. She was leaving tonight. She took a key and some nuts, squirrels, and a bit of chalk.
She ran, but was stopped in her tracks by a wall and a heavenly creature.
In reply to: Random RewrEights – The Del’Eights thread
#1198
Al was visibly deranged finding Becky scantily clad. Well, wait for him to shave, he smiled. Becky might eat some nuts, wondering why she had not thought of that in the first place. Becky had always been reluctant, or perhaps just forgetful.A clap made her moan in a silky voice, she felt energy crawl underneath her sabulmantium. It was Man, a distinctive pack of magic. What an impossible florid and baroque little marmoset playing a mouth harp.
Arona felt like beating dragons. She almost stopped in anticipation of a pile of conic shaped dirty sand, soil from the cave, the dragons doing. They are disagreeable kind of creature, made her dizzy.
The dragons had disappeared. Arona snapped to no one in particular, you will see how easy it is to come back if you feel so inclined.
At her touch, the dragon started to enclose a circle of sand, a curvy symbol.
The interior of the cave was out of focus, in all its splendor…
Fuck the babbled excuses, her own sloppy children wearing a potatoes sack. Sure Gabriele had noticed that nurse Bellamy in my room. Professional women made silky rope disappear.
Sure, more security, she had to be more careful about Barbella Bee-hive. I don’t like that Barbella. Perhaps it’s the kinky wrists tying games…
In reply to: Random RewrEights – The Del’Eights thread
(same random quote as above link #87)
Actually, thinking of Dory made Quintin remember:
“They are really bit rude around here”.
Dory stretched and yawned, and took in in a cloud of dust.
Dory wondered out loud if she should have an older man with curly grey hair and a long maroon djelaba and a tall narrow brimless black hat and watch him get laid.
I am so easy really, she thought giving it a last fond stroke. She finally surfaced from the flapping tangle of cloth just in time to see a group of people squatting next to a large oblong hole in the ground.
PFFFFFT! Deserted again.
Dory was getting bored waiting for this motley crew, looking slightly bemused, but smiling happily, she set off in search of Dory.
In reply to: Random RewrEights – The Del’Eights thread
#87 Quintin had a woman near London ~ a strange small replicate, put here for gracious officials. Strangely linked to the story, was Dory. The other participants didn’t really expect this quaint dream…
Dory made Quintin in Madagascar for the first time. Funny, but now they seemed to connect to Arona. Malvina disappeared, and once again Arona found this quite irritating. She could barely remember the music.
Really, things are shifting. In the name of heaven use magic I Scream or something!
A Man emerged from Arona’s lap. This is great, more comfortable than the ground.
Oh cute, said Arona, a talking Man, love your cape by the way.
Arona stroked Man. It was all feeling heat and humidity… and especially her hunger. Man sighed in an eggs sort of a way. She exclaimed delightedly, hugging the Man.
[¹] Note from the editor: Man being a noble reader
~~~~
Dory was dry, with strange hard shoulders and face. Her shawl finally surfaced flapping in time to a cloud of dust.
PPFFT! I’m all on my own. Dory was momentarily speechless.
In reply to: The Eights’ Shift, Stories
“I blame the Elsespace Arrangement” Monica said in response to Ann’s long winded diatribe. “Nothing’s been quite the same since it got so popular.”
“You’ve got a point there, Mon” Ann agreed. “We didn’t used to have all these mix ups before, did we?”
“Well speak for yourself, dear, I don’t get mixed up,” Monica said a trifle pompously.
Not ‘arf you don’t, Ann said to herself, smiling sweetly at her freind.
“I heard that” Monica replied.
“Soory, Monica.” Oh my god, look at that typo. “Sorry Monica” Ann corrected herself. “The thing is, I’ve been feeling so odd lately. Disconnected, somehow. But the others seem to think they’ve been offending me, but it’s not that.”
“Well, what is it then?” asked Monica kindly.
“I’m not going to tell you. Ah ha ha ha ha.”
In reply to: The Eights’ Shift, Stories
“Ahaha, dear Ann is really acting funny since her latest plastic surgery… I wonder if her new implants weren’t taken from some part of her head…”
“How unusually snarky of you, dear” (the author of previous comment will of course remain unnamed for fear of reprisal)
Harvey pondered for a moment “Well, that’s not at all a silly question, I don’t know really how we’ve become best friends… I think it was after you picked up a sodden mandarin on that shelf and I told you about the strong déjà vu of that scene”
“Really? I thought it was after we met during that Magritte’s exhibit?”
“Well, who cares really, I think we already knew each other from somewhen before.”
