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September 8, 2008 at 7:47 pm #1111
In reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories
With the winter coming so fast (no more season you see), Dory was busy tidying her patio waiting for the next plane to Long Pong.
All the dusty trinkets and the artworks she had brought back from her different excavations; she had to put them into some shelter, just in case. Last week the temperature had plummeted so quickly. She had to take the warm clothes out of the closets and realized she also had to change some of them in the process. Some unfriendly moth had eaten the wool of her favorite sweater…
She was feeling dull and empty. Almost like she had no more purpose. Doing that cleaning and tidying was a way of distracting herself from that impression, she knew it would pass.
Since the departure of her friends, Yann and Yurick, she had felt a bit lonely, even with Dan being present.
She lacked a new excavation project, one that would fill in her blood with excitement and passion.An odd thought made her shudder. For a moment she had considered the idea of having a baby.
— “No!”
Really, she should find something worthy of her unlimited energy and not something that would chain her in habits and force her attention outside of her. Though, she seemed quite short of energy lately… However, it was not the time, not the place… and merely not the life for it.She wondered : what were her friends doing?
Yann and Yurick were most probably preparing their new book, and Finn had told her last time that she was on the verge of adopting a baby Orangatun… “she would need spare jungle in her garden”, she chuckled at the sudden vision of Finn gardening her jungle… Well at least it would give her a good distraction.She stopped her tidying and came back inside the house. Where was the wireless phone again? Apparently everything was a mess… she’d have to rethink the “no” she had given Dan last time he had asked her if she needed a butler.
Oh! under her former favorite sweater, of course! She took the phone and composed Finn’s number. Maybe she would extend her trip from Long Pong to New Zealand…
September 6, 2008 at 3:01 pm #1108In reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories
“Nice cuppa, Norm, what kind is it? Doesn’t taste like Typhoo” asked Sue.
“Oh, it’s a herbal one I think, let me see” said Norm, rummaging in the bin for the wrapper. “Never seem to get a cup of ordinary tea these days, it’s all herbal stuff. Here it is: Siberian Watermelon and Mushroom”.
“Tastes quite nice” replied Sue, holding her cup out for a refill.
September 6, 2008 at 10:38 am #1100In reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories
“But where is PHLYNN, Rudiah, for god’s sake, he is supposed to be here. You don’t think maybe he’s a double agent do you?” Finnley whispered tersely. “And more to the point, where’s the bloody watermelon?”
“SSHHHHH!!” Rudiah elbowed him painfully in the ribs. “Lady T’Egg!” She pointed towards the door which had swung open, revealing Lady Theresa Eagleston. She looked furious.
September 6, 2008 at 10:30 am #1096In reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories
Well, I think you just got your answer, Becky, she said to herself, as she read the recent additions. Blimey O Riley! Where to go from here, I wonder? I think it might be best, she surmised, to continue with Hector hallucinating. After all, that will explain any bizarre eventuality.
September 6, 2008 at 10:29 am #1095In reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories
She put her hands on his balls, and her hungry look said more to him to any love whispers he had ever heard before.
“I love your 2 big pink balls”.Noise in the corridor.
Finnley looked suddenly afraid.
“Lady Theresa’s coming”…
They fumbled upon each other, trying to get back their clothes but could only half do it before she entered the library.
She gasped at the scene before her eyes.
“Finnley! what on earth?..”September 6, 2008 at 10:05 am #1088In reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories
“That sinister Finnley had plans to do away with Sir Hector, in the library, before dinner.”
“Perhaps I should amend that entry”, Becky mused.
“What’s that you said, Sugar Plum?” asked Gayesh, nuzzling her ear.
“Oh bugger off, Gayesh, can’t you see I’m busy?” Becky snapped, moving her chair away from the amourous doctor. “I have to attend to this before it all gets changed. Now shut up and back off.”
The unflappable Gayesh smiled, and poured the powdery contents of a vial into her drink, and waited.
September 6, 2008 at 9:25 am #1081In reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories
As soon as Finnley was out of sight of the potting shed, he ran like the wind towards the servants quarters below stairs. There wasn’t a moment to lose. Hector Coon would be arriving soon at Pilston and Plan 57 was about to be launched. Quickly Finnley unbuttoned his butlers jacket, dropped his sober grey trousers and inched himself into the pink tutu. Now all he had to do was lure the unsuspecting Sir Coon into the library….
September 6, 2008 at 7:45 am #1074In reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories
“What on earth is Al suggesting now, I wonder” mused Becky, who was catching up with the latest additions to the Reality Play. Frowning, she wondered how to handle it. It was often a challenge when one of the other writers interfered with her story line plans.
“Well, be honest, Becky” she said to herself “You were floundering a bit with all this boring tropical romance stuff, wafting around the Facility with nothing more interesting to do than sip cool drinks and wink at Gayesh.”
Becky put the sheaf of printed pages on the table beside her, lost in thought. The warm still evening air was beginning to be stifling, and she felt trapped, smothered in the blue velvet embrace of the night, sickened by the scent of the perfumed flowers and rotting fruit, and suddenly bored beyond endurance.
“I’m going back home” she decided. “I’ll leave a deposit of cells here, swap places with Becky Tooh, and she can come back here and take her chances with Gayesh and the clone experiment.”
Perhaps her babies and her lush of a husband back home would be more exciting.
“I can always swap back again later if it gets tedious in New Venice” she added, having a moment of trepidation at the thought of her responsibilities as a mother of triplets. She liked to keep her options open, keep an escape plan on the back burner.
With a light heart and a spring in her step, she grabbed the papers off the table and ran upstairs to pack.
“Maybe a stop over in Long Pong on the way” she decoded. “Oh look at that!” she said to herself “I meant to say decided and wrote decoded instead. Pfft” she grumbled “That must be because I’m worried about decoding all the other strange additions to the Reality Play that have been spewed forth lately. Sheesh, do Al and Sam honestly think I will ever catch up now? Oh bugger it all, Long Pong, here I come!”
September 5, 2008 at 10:49 pm #1072In reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories
This door is influenced by the energy you irradiate.

You have to trust your energy in order for it to lead you to the most fulfilling place.Irtak drew his hand closer to the rippling surface of the door. Its aspect was so changing that it was like he was seeing all the tiniest elements that composed the matter, whatever it was. Hesitating, he asked Leormn.
— Are you trying one of your tricks on me? It’s like I’m hypnotized.
He’s not trying to lure you in… said Jeckle.
The vibration you are currently feeling is the resonance of your energy with the one filtering through that door. said Heckle. I suspect it comes from another realm…
But it is close to this one, Jeckle added. His muzzle quivered with excitement. I feel a friendly energy filtering from the other side.The waves of curiosity emitted by his friends were compelling, and Leormn could feel it. He himself was very interested by what he could feel was some kind of counterpart of himself. He was familiar with the energy but it was somewhat different from his own.
Our strong desire is maintaining the door open. We can go safely through it and return in no time… he suggested in a soft persuasive tone.
Arona, who was feeling a bit forgotten, grunted and added a tad dubious :
— I’m not sure we should do it. We should tell the others… Where are they by the way?Apparently, the dragons and the boy were more fascinated by what was leaking out of her drawing. She’d been a bit surprised that one of her creations… if one could call the few brushstrokes a creation… that it could produce such an odd reaction. She couldn’t help but notice that the two words were anagrams.
Leormn looked at her with a renewed interest.
I’m feeling you are connected to that other realm, dear Arona. We all are in a way, but it’s like your lineage came from that… gate. Would you dare find out about your origin?
She looked at him dubiously. His gaze was so intense that one moment…
— Are you serious? she asked.
He grinned… Who knows… if you don’t go you may never find out
and I’m sure the others can take care of themselves when we are gone.Saying that he jumped on the other side like he was acting on a whim.
The twins looked at each other and followed him… and Irtak was next…
What was she to do?
It was almost as if the door was staring at her. Challenging her… and she didn’t really like to be alone in these dark corridors.
She jumped in and felt completely stretched out for what seemed a few seconds. She almost lost sense of who she was when an image started to form in her mind.
It expanded until she was surrounded by a warm sensation of well being and lightness. She was completely safe in this place.
A sudden woosh and a sensation of cold. She fell on the floor, her members suddenly failing her. The light was completely different and she couldn’t hear anything. Panic began to overwhelm her and she realized she couldn’t emit any sound either.
As suddenly as it was gone, her sense of hearing reappeared.
Who was shouting like that?
Arona… Arona!
The directedness in the tone was enough to make her recover her balance. She stopped shouting and began to notice her other senses… nothing particular at first, but she had the weird impression that it was different. Looking around her, she saw that the dragons were sniffing around like puppies and Irtak was following them like one of them.
— Where are we? she asked Leormn.
The sound of her voice was lower-pitched than usual, and Leormn started to laugh at her look of dismay.Hahaha! I don’t know yet… but we have all the time to discover.
— Can’t we come back to the cave now? I don’t feel comfortable here… look at the sand, it’s purple… maybe it’s some kind of bacteria or something, maybe it’s contagious…
He gave her one of those irritating wink. She was about to retort bluntly when she realized there was no way back.
The door had disappeared.September 5, 2008 at 3:16 pm #1069In reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories
The rain was falling outside the cave, and it was damp and wet all around. She came quickly back to her study, after letting Leo the little marmoset get out for a pee.
There, Malvina caught glimpses of what was lying behind the door that Leörmn and the others were considering.Infinite possibilities,
Stars twinkling,
A dark night’s sky
Blackness of the void of creationA red door, red like the earth…
September 4, 2008 at 11:04 pm #1065In reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories
The smooke of her pipe was creating interesting shapes flooting away from her.
Elizabeth had the weird impression that her story was taking an uncontrollable turn.
She woold have written a torrid sex scene with Phoebe and the yoong Russian on the submarine, but it was as if Finnley’s eyes were constantly reminding her of her own nymphoomaniac behavior. She had to let it unexpressed except in her imagination.Looking at the last curls of smooke, it was as if the pook-marked face of Pavel was taking life before her eyes. Thanks to her new croop, her feelings were far far away… She let the smooked face decomposed in a gracious gray whale.
She giggled thinking of Finnley’s disapproval… maybe she’ll write that scene after all.
She took a sheet of paper and a pen, but soon realized the words were not foorming as expected. The thud prooduced by the pen rolling on the floor was amusing too.Ooh!
The thud prooduced by her body rolling on the floor was more disturbing… and the last thing she saw before she lost consciousness was Finnley’s disapproving look… maybe she had written that scene after all…
A smile on her face she began to snoore soundly.
September 4, 2008 at 10:56 pm #1064In reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories
— Well, I wonder what your Gayesh is about Tina said to Becky.
You see, I’ve made my little investigation, and he’s not referenced as a scientist, much less a doctor in medicine anywhere…
— Pffft, OF COURSE he’s not, sighed Becky. He’s a busy man, with lots of secrets.
— AH-AH! I got you there. I thought you always said there was no secrets.
— Oh, sure, he doesn’t keep any secret from me. Becky was a bit cut to the quick in that implicit rebuttal of her investigatory skills. You’re not implying that I’m not…
— Well, to be perfectly frank with you Becky dearie
— Yeah, bring it on, sweetie; a little rudeness won’t hurt
— … I think you’ll become a fattened cow in a harem, if the harm hasn’t been done yet.
— Oh, that was rude.
— Oops, must have been my evil twin.Even Tina had been surprised at her unrestrained expression. “All for the best,” she thought to herself, “better with Becky than with Al, she’s really easier on forgetting others. Blessed be her short-term memory.”
September 4, 2008 at 9:50 pm #1062In reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories
— Were are we Anu? , the mother asked her young daughter trotting in front of her. My, it’s awfully dark in there… Are you sure we’ll find the others here?
— Yes Mum. Anu answered in a soft voice.
— Don’t be so anxious, Lily dear; trust our little girl; after all, she did so bravely well on her own after that plane crash.
— You’re right Aaron, but this place is so… I don’t know, it gives me the creeps. It’s like… I couldn’t tell why, but it’s like we’re not remotely close to the Miami… or even the Sarcastic Sea where we’re supposed to be stranded…
— It’s because we’re not, muttered Anita, more to herself than to her mother. But we’ll be soon enough, she added.
— Sometimes I wonder how can Anu know so well were we are when we’re so lost, her mother mumbled…Balbina was following the little group as it was heading to the cave where one of the portal’s entrances was located. She could see the entrance clearly, glowing and sending ripples of energy coils, but that was only because she was travelling in her dream-body. While Anita, who was quite tuned into those things, wasn’t appearing to be lost, the parents seemed more than a little in the dark, and not only figuratively speaking…
Balbina turned to the rabbit who was keeping her company.
— And do you know were they’re going to?
— And do you like the things that life is showing you? giggled Yuki. Well, more seriously, it depends on what they’re choosing. And it could lead them to a place much more different than the one they expect to go to.A funny idea crossed the mind of Balbina, so much so that the elderly lady, who was looking rather youngish in her dreamlike appearance couldn’t help but express it.
— Could they come to my place? They seem so charming people, and they seem to come from the same time as I do…
— I thought you would never ask, Yuki smiled at her mischievously.
— Oh, why?
— Don’t you think it’s a funny coincidence that you are to meet them here and now?
— Well… It’s just a dream, isn’t it?
— And what if you could make that dream reality? Prove to yourself that it’s as real as anything else…
— That sounds exciting indeed.“Here!” Anita was pointing a strange shaped bush of brambles.
Rafaela was standing next to the bushes with Armelle on a tree nearby. “I’ve thought it would be more practical for them than the rock pool”
“Good thinking dear” Yuki answered the goat.— And now? Balbina asked
— I think it’s up to you and Anita, said Yuki.“And where are we going from there?” asked Lily to her daughter.
“Not far from here, to a friend’s home, in Venezuela .” answered Anita with a wink which seemed lost to her parents, but not to the beaming Balbina.September 4, 2008 at 9:09 pm #1061In reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories
She had been taken to her room by a handsome young Russian after the onboard doctor, who was quite handsome too, had examined her. She had the vague impression she was turning a tad nymphomaniac. She chuckled and she stopped as soon as she realized she sounded like an old goose. No she would not loose her dignity. But she needed to release her tensions.
The doctor had told her she was lucky they came at that very moment, but kept quiet after that. That she was aware of, but she couldn’t get more out of him and she was too tired to use her other tricks on him.
Better rest a moment; she was confident she’d be kept up to date soon enough by Pavel.How strongly she was despising him…
She didn’t know it was possible before their first encounter in Paris, years ago.
Mixed feelings filled up those memories…
it was also at the same time she’d met Georges, the Dandy as he liked to be called then. What a pair of thieves they were… When was it? 1852? 1853? She wasn’t sure…Her first mistake was to ask them to retrieve that stone from the antique store for her… Of course she hadn’t told them what she was looking for… she only asked them to steal everything in the shop! Still, they didn’t bring it back from the shop though she was positive the sunstone was there… they told her that was all they found; Georges seemed so sincere that she wouldn’t have thought he would double her and keep the stone… and much less use it. Soon enough… yes soon enough she realized she had been deceived.
Her second mistake was to offer them an arrangement… but that’s another story. She was not as wary as she was now.
She sighed.
Nothing interesting to steal in that room. Just raw blankets and a plain wooden chair… she wouldn’t have expected more from Pavel. Always keeping the best for himself and not quite as chivalrous as the Dandy. Pavel… How did they call him back then? She couldn’t or wouldn’t recall it… something like the Monk… the Monkey would have better suited him, she thought bitterly.
But now; she had no time to loose in dim memories.
She had to plan her escape.knock knock
It only took her a few seconds to compose herself.
— Come on in.
September 3, 2008 at 10:42 pm #94Topic: The Best of Lemone’s Quotes
Best known in Oorth (Dimension of Ooh) for his best selloor Words of Comfort for the Descending, a groot philosoopher and wool of wisdoom, Erwin P Lemone has made a few delightful and abysmally profoond aphorisms that needed a proper anthology.
Be it the place for such an endeavoor.
A few quotes
“Sometimes it takes a single sniggly thorny path to go through to reach Elysian avenues much more efficiently” — ID850
“rainy wedding, merry marriage” — ID1183
“Better speak nonsense than be dead or sorry” — ID1644
“It’s not the writer’s job to piece the stuff life is made of together, it’s the job of the reader.” — ID1661
“A new-born book is like a little baby, except it smells only of ink, and doesn’t make spurious sounds” (said at an interview with journalist Finckle Frettle on Oo-TV)
September 3, 2008 at 9:23 pm #1056In reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories
Sam wanted to see by himself. He had suddenly remembered what Becky had told them once about a pet shop with a nine-tailed glowing fox. He hadn’t paid attention at the moment, but this was somewhat reappearing in his dreams lately. One of his focuses was the link, and he was seeing his face more and more looking directly at him.
He usually wasn’t speaking with his other selves, he was rather directly exchanging energy with them. At first it had been a bit awkward, practicing with telepathy and conversing with his friends was his main focus of interest. But once he was aware of how he could do that more easily and more efficiently, his attention wandered to other means of communication.
Eschraiel was currently nudging him, and his animal form was quite intriguing. Especially since there were those kind of animals living now!
He had arrived at the shop without really paying attention. He was following his guts to lead him exactly where he wanted.
Being soft, in the kind of mode of processing he was in currently, the people around were like objects around merged with his environment, nothing standing out. Except maybe that woman in front of the big parrot cage… no, not the woman but the color of her gown, a deep indigo, vibrant and shiny. She turned her smiling face in his direction, but it was like Eschraiel’s energy superimposed on hers. He smiled back at her and continued to the rear of the shop.The creatures were in a dark room, their fur glowing with rusty and fiery shades. Apparently very engrossed in chasing each others tails… they had quite a lot to keep them busy. The little ones especially were jumping heartily on the older ones. Challenging them to retaliate… but getting apparently no response from them except a few grunts.
No particular feeling at first.
One of the little ones, maybe…
This one. One of the older ones. A male. He was looking at him now, as aware of Sam’s energy as Sam was aware of his.
He yelped a few times, standing like an Egyptian Sphinx.
In no time, Sam was out with his nine-tailed glowing fox…
He’s so still, thought Sam.
How would I name you? he thought, directing the energy to the creature.He opened his mouth and let his tongue out in such a way, it was like he was grinning and challenging him. Sam laughed and thought to the fox : So I have to play the impression game with you then.
Maybe… I can call you Sam actually
One bark was enough of an answer.
So Sam it is!
Another bark.
I have to introduce you to my friends now… I don’t know why, but I have the feeling Al will love you…August 29, 2008 at 9:36 pm #1055In reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories
As she was sinking to the bottom of the raging sea, Madame Chesterhope first felt like a boiling rage inside her, at all the thwarted attempts, all the unfulfilled promises.
Not a solid thing on which to carve a few runes or symbols to get herself out, not a single living being to use at her profit, she was alone, at the mercy of gravity.
Not unexpectedly, flashes of her life, of her many lives, flickered like incoherent pieces of an unfinished mosaic in her mind.When did it went wrong? she thought… When did she lose touch with her magic.
Not the mundane magic, not the one she used for these parlor tricks devoid of meaning, like that beautiful flying motorbike which was drowning even faster than her… She was speaking of her inner magic, her sense of connection with the elements, with herself, Phoebe.What had become of the frail grey-haired lady the apparency of whom she was so fond of taking years ago?
She was tempted to blame many things; the twenty-first century of her own dimension, for one, which had made her rough and tough, out of need perhaps, and perhaps a bit out of laziness. It was out of tiredness mostly, tiredness to have to constantly justify her appearance to others, that she had chosen a more convenient one; that of the crone with more rotund forms, of whom one would only expect austerity and strength.
You can see where it had led you. she was thinking.A few more miles further down, and perhaps she would meet the mermaids, like the guy said in that Big Blue motion picture…
Maybe there was some purity left in her heart, that would make the inhabitants of the depths greet her wretched soul. Or perhaps they all died before her, from the pollution of this strange world mutating in pangs and spasms of a painful childbirth.And what would you do now, if you have the choice? that sweet voice, like that of a thin grey-haired mermaid, was it her own, testing herself?
The quest for magical artifacts seemed so far away at this moment. It had begun a long time ago, led her to discover new other-dimensional places… new tricks, all of them for what? To gain control over the elements, the others, everything that could threaten her, force her to change. How ironic. That the fear of change made her change so drastically.
She wanted to make peace with all of that. The mermaids weren’t coming, but her own voice was still there for her. Perhaps she could muster the strength. To continue…Mustering all her force, she forcibly expressed the most propelling “prout” she’d ever made. Of course, she’d been learning a few tricks from the legendary Fartiste back in her youth when she went to Paris to perform at the Moulin Rouge… Sweetest time of her life, she had to admit…
On the surface of the waters, bubbles started to form.
August 29, 2008 at 6:08 pm #1054In reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories
“I thought Tobi told not to open any door this month” Becky Tooh said to Tina, who was waiting patiently on the doorsteps.
“JUST open the BLOODY door!” an exerted Tina finally managed to blurt out, remembering Mehmot Lung’s teachingsTina had decided against all common sense to go to Becky Tooh (or BeckyT) and Sean’s house, not so much to happily gargle ga-bla-blu-blooes with the little crying and smelling babies, but to see if the clone’s health was really a concerning matter.
Al’s lack of attention on the subject had not very comforting. To say the truth, he’d been horrible as usual, and hadn’t told her he was going with Sam on a trip in the Floridisles.Since New York’s flooding, and after a series of calamitous tropical cyclones, all was left of Florida was a thread of big islands, not as densely populated as it once was. However, a few of their friends were still living here, managing a dolphin ranch, and organizing on occasion some excursions with the dolphins in the lagoons.
Of course, she had remote-viewed it all, but it was horrible enough from Al to have assumed she would figure on her own.But back to the subject, she couldn’t really decide if Beckitee’s state was alarming or not. Her lack of attention was surely running down the genes pool, she wasn’t expert enough to tell, but as far as her body was concerned, Beckitee looked absolutely perfect —though she still got hints of that little balding problem left, and so little (but noticeable, still) wrinkles on her arms, she thought.
Surely Beckitee was beautiful… Not sure she was as funny as Beckipoo though.
August 27, 2008 at 11:03 pm #1048In reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories
When a distraught Becky had finished outpouring her verbose account, Tina drew a long much needed breathe —two in fact: one for herself, and another for Becky Pooh.
“You see Becky dear,” Tina raising softly her voice, with her usual sweetness and poise, “Your dear Dr Gayesh should definitely read the Cosemotology Monthly Report …”
“What are you talking about?” Becky couldn’t help but butt in.
“Well, no sooner than yesterday they had this in-depth article on the curative properties of nettles, especially on the effects of silicate which can help rejuvenate cells… This apparently has been used to improve some cloning processes on animals. I would expect someone with advanced talents like your Dr to know that, don’t you think?”
“Nettles? Are you sure you’re not on some better herbs than I would ever dream of tasting? This sounds like a lot of rubbish to me… And no need to roll your eyes, I can remote view you” Becky was infuriated. How could something so simple have escaped Gayesh?“Unless of course he doesn’t want you to leave…” Tina said again so very softly it was almost inaudible.
“Oh, bugger with telepathy” Becky said, closing the connection to sink deeper into the ostrich feathers stuffed cushions.August 26, 2008 at 1:33 pm #1046In reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories
Sharon and Glo were scratching their back at the same time.
“I think I’ve got something there… a sunburn maybe… it’s been itching since a few hours now and it bloody wouldn’t stop. Will you have a look for me Sha?”
“Well have a look for me first, my hump is bloody itching too… I think I have allergies… and it will bring you luck
dear.”
“Oh my Floveness! you’ve not shaven your hump today! I didn’t know you were so blimey hairey! I promise I won’t tell Mavis. Shall I fetch some biafine?”
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