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  • Head Parcel, the postie, met What, What Ever said, “Head, I’m What.” “You’re What?” said Head. “That’s right!” What said, “I’m What Ever, Head Parcel, or What.” :penthingy: ... · ID #922 (continued)
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  • #3441

    Dark clouds had gathered in the sky, the temperature had dropped of several degrees, making the breeze feel colder. The group had been walking for hours in the bog toward the elusive temple. With the darkness of the clouds, its mirage had begun to fade away. Greenie had said they’d better stop when the image was gone because they could become lost.

    They had managed to make a wet campfire, and were trying to get warmth from the fleeting flames.
    “I had a strange dream last night”, said George to Arona who was sitting next to him.
    She smiled politely, not sure she wanted to hear about the winged man dreams. She considered standing up and being rude.
    “I was a teenager”, he continued, wrapping himself into his wings.
    Arona rolled her eyes inwardly, looking around for help. Mandrake was sleeping under her cape.
    “An island appeared one day on the coast, people thought it was an ancient magic island and feared to approach it. It was visible only for a couple of days. It was such a weird dream.”
    “Maybe you should write it down”, said Arona.
    “Oh! Probably not, if the P’hope gets hold of it, I have the feeling it’s not in my interest.” He grinned like a kid. “Anyway, I knew in the dream that the island was still there, it was still reachable. So one day I took my father’s boat. It was a small boat, not made to go too far from the coastline. I didn’t know, and I didn’t care. I went into the mist, completely trusting I would find this island that everybody feared. It was rising tide, and I had to fight the current pushing me to the shore. I think it’s a dream who brought me there, a dream of a girl calling me in a garden. George
    “Is that all?” asked Arona after a moment of silence from George.
    “Yes, it’s most certainly a silly dream, I’ve lived in Karmalott my entire life.”
    “You’ll have to work on your dream telling, pal”, said Mandrake, “the punchline is missing.”

    Nobody noticed how the flames of the fire were dancing into the green girl’s eyes.

    #3439
    TracyTracy
    Participant

      “Finnley, you’re late again” admonished Elizabeth. “And you look tired”.
      “It’s complicated” Finnley said. “It’s my other job, it’s hard to explain.”
      “Well if you’re too old to hold down two jobs, Finnley, perhaps you should give one of them up.”
      “Are you firing me?” asked Finnley in astonishment.
      It was Elizabeth’s turn to be astonished. “Certainly not! That’s not what I meant at all!”

      #3434

      Sadie soothed herself. It has only been 2 days. Get a grip. Your hair won’t smell yet.

      She wondered whether to speak—the longing to confide in someone was almost overwhelming— and she followed Finnley, trying to pluck up courage. Not only would it be breaking protocol to give away any details of her recent mission, more importantly, she did not want to frighten the elderly woman. Instinctively Sadie knew that if there was anyone she could trust it would be Finnley, who had been through so much in her own life and surely, innately perhaps, understood and accepted those things outside the established norm.

      “Finnley.” she spoke softly. “It is me, Sadie. I am not sure how to … I am here, but you can’t see me. Please don’t be frightened. Let me explain. It will make sense …. well sort of.”

      it will make sense?

      “Sadie? Where are you? What’s going on?” Finnley’s frail voice faltered and Sadie wished she could reach out and reassure her.

      “Maybe you should sit down.”

      #3427
      Jib
      Participant

        After the push-ups, Anna Purrna returned to her office, letting the Queens panting and sweating, certainly wondering how long it would last.

        The dwarf had requisitioned the best room and decorated it with pink and blue kitten plates on the wall left of his desk. The desk was positioned so that he would see anyone entering the room. It was something he had learned from Feng Shui, the position of power was when you faced the door and had no window behind. It was important no one could sneak up on you.

        Anna Purrna loved pink and blue, and she loved kittens. They were loving you unconditionally and were not as dependent upon you as dogs. And they pooped in their own personal toilets. She put her cane near a decorated hammer and sat at her desk. She sighed.

        Dependence was exhausting. She had fought all her life not to be dependent, especially when she realized that, contrary to the other kids, she couldn’t say when I grow up. She would never grow up, and those arrogant kids in the playground would make sure she knew it morally and physically. She wasn’t all that crooked before.
        Now, she was driving a Harley.

        She took her e-zapper and wrote : “ZR nut reddy 2 face O’Thor ET yeast”.

        Writing in code was a habit she had taken when participating in RPGs. She knew it was an attempt to conceal her own expression. But it felt soothing at the time. It also helped her get better characters than dwarves and goblins. They wouldn’t even let her have an orc, saying she was too small for that. With time and perseverance she became an Adept with great powers and cunning intelligence. She was respected and feared. Which led her to work for the Management.

        Her instructions were clear. Make them stand for themselves. At least that’s how she interpreted it. She had carte blanche for the means.

        From what she had seen until now, Terry was the most promising of the three, but he was still following his mates. Maurana was too attached to the rules and seemliness, and Consuela was far too dependent on her mother. Anna could just provide the environment, they had to find their inner strength on their own and not forget the group.

        The e-zapper purred, she had reconfigured it so that it would have a cat personality. It reminded her of her Riga, her previous ginger cat. She died a few years ago and Anna couldn’t resolve herself to get another one. She couldn’t replace her Riga in her heart.

        The message read : “Begin phase two ASAP. Meow”.

        #3417
        TracyTracy
        Participant

          “Why haven’t these windows been cleaned?” snapped the bossy dwarf. “And these mirrors? The mirrors are disgusting, and I can smell unwashed hair everywhere.”
          “I’m not surprised, with all this housework, we haven’t had time to wash our hair, what do you expect?” retorted Consuela, almost at the end of her tether with the demanding interloper.
          Anna Purrna glared at her. “How dare you speak to me like that!”
          Consuela glared back. “Just what gives you the right to come here and start bossing us all around anyway? Where have you come from, who sent you?” Conseula was starting to warm up for a heated exchange. “What gives you the authority to boss us around?”
          “I am” replied the monstrous diminutive gargoyle, “Your inner dictator, made physical. For your own benefit.”
          Consuela was at a loss for words.

          #3416

          Noticing the distinctive odour of unwashed hair, Finnley looked around cautiously. Perhaps there was an intruder hiding somewhere. Of course, Finnley reasoned, it could be that Sadie had returned early, and had brought an unsavoury visitor with her who had left the lingering, but never the less pungent aroma. It surely couldn’t be Sadie, who was usually so scrupulously clean and sweet scented. Unless Sadie was poorly and had been too unwell to bathe.

          Her concern about Sadie over riding her fear of a possible intruder, Finnley checked the bedroom, calling out softly to Sadie, but there was no sign of her in there. Next she checked the bathroom, tapping gently on the closed door, and then cautiously pushing it open when she had no reply.

          Eventually, after checking everywhere and finding no sign of Sadie or any indication of an intruder, Finnley decided she was being over anxious ~ Sadie must have had a guest, and they had recently left the building together. She started to clean, methodically and efficiently. But her unease escalated as the more she cleaned, the stronger the smell of unwashed hair grew, and she was unable to pinpoint where the smell originated from ~ it seemed to be moving around, following her.

          #3412

          Sadie put on a jacket. She wasn’t cold but she found it fascinating to watch the jacket disappear as it made contact with her body. It wasn’t instantaneous, rather, it seemed to slowly dissolve. The colours faded first and then the fabric began to disintegrate until there was nothing visible. She stroked her arm and was relieved to feel the softness of the fleece jacket.

          Everything I touch, disappears. But it is still there.

          She checked her messages. Still nothing.”What the fuck are you doing, Linda Pol?”

          A soft click of the front door latch alerted Sadie that someone was entering her apartment. It was Finnley, her cleaner.

          Of course, she is not expecting me to be back yet!

          Sadie resisted the urge to call out. Finnley was an unusual lady— rumour had it that she had been abandoned by her mother at birth and raised by rats—however she was an excellent cleaner. Sadie watched as Finnley entered the hall, stopped and sniffed, as though aware of her presence. She had a flash of anxiety, wondering if her unwashed hair smelt.

          #3400

          If the sabulmantium was to be trusted, the beanstalk was a tangle of many paths, and the main and easiest accesses down its dangling twirly greenish tentacles were all outside of the city walls, in a zone where some lords managed to rule pockets of mass beliefs and a bunch of unattractive mongrel mobsters.

          “Sounds potential adventure material” Mandrake had had the nerve to say when they’d packed.
          “No it isn’t” Arona had said.
          Then with more gusto “NO IT ISN’T” as though to convince all the sleepy tarts of the nymphouse below her rented room.

          More doubts had sunken their claws in her tender heart, and a gulp of whatever astral cup didn’t seem in hindsight a worthy deal for all her troubles. Nonetheless, she was a woman of her word, which was probably why she wasn’t of many. Too much trouble being of all of them, whatever that meant.

          “Honestly Mandrake, keeping you on track is worse than herding… dragons.”
          She would have said sheep, but she wasn’t so rude yet. Mandrake could have taken that too badly, and he would again prove useful to distract the guards of the Southern Post. That’s where she decided to go, as with all the heat, it had to be the one less guarded.

          Indeed, when she arrived, as planned, the gate was badly manned, and sleepy soldiers where reaching for the rare spots of shadow.
          She decided to make a run for it. The soldiers didn’t look very fit. She started to go, thinking about zigzagging between the air bottles littering the plaza, when she felt a tug pulling her back by the cloak, almost sending her flying off her butt.

          FUCK!” she shouted as silently as she could. “You again! I thought I told you not to follow me! Mandrake, attack! Go for the balls!”

          She was in a fury, but Mandrake licked his paw with a disgusted look on his face that meant “Hnhn, not going for that, sweetie. You’re on you own to herd that dragon, my lovely pooh.”

          “Shhht!” the guy said with a bit smile.
          “Don’t shush me, you… ninnyhammer!”
          She didn’t know where the last word came from, but they sure felt good, although not quite rude enough.
          “Oh, the lady is a pirate who knows her insults.” he answered with his cocky smile.
          “Don’t mock me, you mooncalf”
          “You were trying to sneak out, were you?”
          “Why do you care, hobbledehoy?”
          “The guards have aircon chain-mail and armours, see, look at those bottles on their backs… How could you beat them running with your heavy cloak?”
          “Maybe Mr Snollygoster has a better suggestion?”
          “Of course I have, if you care to follow me, Ms Mumpsimus.”

          Arona was almost speechless. Not keen on following any stranger, she asked her guts, and they seemed to have a liking for the handsome fellow. It stirred old remembrance of going with the flow tactics, and when she did actually follow him, it had absolutely nothing to do with the fact that he and Mandrake were already ahead in one of the alleys.

          “Oh, no, let him have the keys to some secret tunnel, I won’t go for another sewer escape!”
          As if her guardien angel has heard her secret prayer, it happened that the stranger had some strange stone key in his bag, opening a secret wall entrance.

          “Oh.” was all she conceded to the stranger.
          Nonplussed he offered her his hand “George” he presented himself still with the same broad smile.
          She took his hand haughtily, and entered the vaulted tunnel, not telling him yet her name, in case she felt like choosing a sexy and mysterious code name. She could trust no one…

          “Traitor” she hissed at Mandrake who was purringly looking at the strangers’ boots.

          #3369
          Jib
          Participant

            Terry used to arrive early. She was always the first at the bar. She found stability and reassurance in the simple acts of opening the door, turning on the lights, preparing and organizing the tables and the little snacks for the customers.

            That day, after she opened the door, imagining daylight pouring inside, cleansing the darkest corners with the Love of the Universe, she found an envelope on the counter near the cashier. It was sealed with red wax.

            On it was written : “Terry Amar Bubble, from the Management”.
            She felt her heart sank. Her mind went blank, certainly a way for her not to put words on the unthinkable.

            When Cedric arrived later, he found Amar still in a trance, holding an envelop. He’d always been taught not to wake someone who was sleepwalking, but he’d also always had difficulties to not break rules. So he simply did what came first to his mind.

            “Time to Wake up! Bitch!” He said, slapping Amar on the face with a queen’s grace. Cedric felt deeply satisfied with the sound of his slap. He’d been practicing on his own face in front of a mirror when he was younger.

            “I received a letter”, muttered Amar. He handed the envelop over to Consuela.
            “Hey! That’s for me too.” Her pronunciation of the last word hanging around in the air.
            She showed the words to Terry who felt confused because it was now written “Terry Amar Bubble & Consuela Cedric Winnie, from the Management”.
            “Let’s open it”, said Cedric, “I don’t want Maurana’s name on the envelope”. He tittered and broke the seal. It made a popping sound and released a golden powder.

            “Wow, did you see that, Terry ? It’s like fairy dust.”

            The message let them both confused. It simply said : “Your new intendant,Anna Purrna, arrives today. Be ready.”

            #3367

            Irina turned to little Greenie, who had so far only communicated in body langage, and little more than grunts.

            “Dearie,” she took the little face in her hand to look her in the eyes. There was slight resistance in the girl’s, but she was compliant enough that the feedback encouraged Irina to continue. “I believe, you know how to talk, this grunting telepathic business is getting tedious, and Mr R isn’t telepathic, you see…”
            “But Madam…” Mr R’s beginning to protest was quickly hushed by Irina.
            “You understand, don’t you?… Yes you do. Communicate with me, okay? You’ve been there longer than I am, and we probably can help each other.”

            Greenie’s eyes were showing clear signs of intelligence, and yet, there was some trauma still at the surface that she seemed to process, which made interaction tricky.

            Greenie pointed at the place were Irina had tried to meditate for the past hours.
            “Oh no, not again…” she sighed. She sat again cross-legged, but this time Greenie wasn’t finished.
            “What is? What are you trying to tell me?” Irina was confused. She hoped it was not about praying, but then realized that Greenie wanted to join.

            So they sat in front of each other, with Greenie’s small palms pressed to hers, and again started to meditate.
            “Mr R, some music of the angels, if you will”

            After a while, Mr R’s lulling music managed to appeased even the confused Huhu, and Irina started to feel a difference, as though she had broken out of her mind, and could connect to the teen girl in their light bodies.

            #3366

            “I’m rubbish at meditation!” Irina said, opening her eyes after her tenth session in a row.

            Mr R, who’d been waiting for her to come back from her inner trip, was, as usual, quick to dispense soothing encouragements
            “Madam doesn’t give herself enough credit. After all, you have managed to… shall I say… appear this quaint bird.”

            What? Irina looked at the direction Mr R was pointing at. That darn parrot again?!
            Indeed, looking quite puzzled to be on one of the bog’s shrubs, Huhu was tilting, or rather bobbing his heard from left to right in a pendulous and rhythmical fashion, while Greenie was jumping around the shrub eager to catch the colourful beast.

            “Then, that only confirms my suspicions…” she said. She had briefly connected to the bird, just about when she was processing the bleedthrough shotgun attack to bring her thoughts back to clarity. You wish… Sometimes the minds works in endless mysteries; she couldn’t tell why the bird came up in her thoughts, but it was apparently all it needed to appear there.

            #3365
            Jib
            Participant

              The room numbers were framed in a golden disc carved with what looked like zodiac animals and a circle of eights.

              Linda observed the man walking in front of her. As soon as the effects of the lust gas had dissipated, she had been able to focus on something else than his butt. He’d been watching over his shoulder, and it was not to see if she was keeping with his pace. He had been frowning ever since she’d met him, and you could say his whole attitude exuded wariness. Despite her Happiness Training and the meditation practice at night with Sadie, she was beginning to feel some bowel tension. Not good for her digestion.

              He stopped in front of room 57. He knocked, didn’t wait for an answer, instead used his magnetic key to open it, and entered. She followed. He looked one last time on both sides of the corridor, then locked the door.

              They were in a big yellow lounge. Linda addressed a silent prayer to the Good Taste Goddess, sympathizing with the pain She must have endured each time an interior designer had expressed such lack of sobriety. It wasn’t just the color. The furniture seemed to come from Hart to Hart, except the sofa was in a dark yellow leather, and the cushions in a bright magenta.

              “Wait here ‘till I call you”, he said. He left through a door on the right, taking his frown with him.
              Linda heard him talk to someone in the other room, certainly a bedroom. A feminine voice answered him. They argued for some time. The woman was the last to speak. Then the silence.

              Linda hesitated to seat on a jumping armchair with yellow and brown stripes. It was as if every cell of her body, and even the molecules of her clothes were repelled by the choices of the interior designer. She would have sworn her platform shoes were trying to levitate from the carpet.

              The man’s head appeared at the door.
              “Come in, she’s ready to see you.”

              Linda could see emotions struggle on his face.

              “But I warn you”, he said, his fists clenched, “she’s been sick since we have arrived. If my wife is tired, I’ll ask you to leave.”

              “Oh!” Linda said.

              #3357

              When Irina, with Mr R and Greenie in tow, approached the spot where the robot had detected activity, she had a lurching sense in her stomach that something strange was about to happen.

              Some buzzing seemed to approach and leave, like a wobbling effect in the air around them, although she could see nothing.
              Mr R, with its caterpillar boots seemed to have to trouble moving ahead, but with a silent sign of her hand, had him slow the pace down and move more silently.

              A cracking sound, and she turned around.
              A woman with a shotgun pointed at her was there, and a guy with handsome features. Caught unaware, Irina froze, and closed her eyes, trying to reach some inner peace before the imminent gunshot.

              “Madam? Are you alright?” came Mr R’s soothing voice. Next to her, Greenie was drawing on her pants, with a concerned look on her face.

              She opened her eyes, confused and relieved. The odd couple of hunters seemed to have vanished. Yet, she could have sworn hearing a gunshot and the blood of a giant mosquito splatter all around.
              She could as well have dreamt all awake, as there were not a single trace around to back her vision.

              “That’s what it is then…” Irina started to realize something. “Mr R, if you will, what about those presence you detected earlier?”
              “Gone Madam, it seemed to have been a glitch.”
              “A glitch, yes…” she said pensively. “Or something else…”

              The things she’d just experience reminded Irina about some of the things she’d read in the past about the Bardo state of the Buddhists. She wasn’t a Buddhist, more a Realist ascendant Romantic. Yet, they made some interesting points about the nature of reality.
              Usually, Irina was the kind of girl who liked to work up to her goals’ achievements. Building the little place for herself, even if mostly the work of Mr R, was a good example. Give her enough time, and she would always find resources to make a better life for herself. But here, it seemed beside the point. It could well be an endless loop.

              She wanted to pierce the veil that surrounded the place, instead of erring in the fog of her own projections. She looked at Greenie and Mr R. She wasn’t sure they were real any longer, even if she had sure grown fond of them. She would see…

              Now, how to get this island to reveal its secrets… As much as she found it boring, prayer or meditation seemed to be the only solution she could come up with for now. Less fond of the first solution, she chose the second and sat cross-legged on a mossy patch of the bog, where the sound of water seemed to have the right qualities.

              #3336

              “Who the fuck stuck all these disgusting patches all over me?” Lisa shouted when she noticed them, and thus promptly forgot her dream. “Why have you gone so red in the face, Jack?”
              In an attempt to deflect the attention from himself, he countered: “Why were you standing on the table?”
              Lisa rose to the bait and replied that she was assessing the possibility of hanging the new map mannequin, the one that wouldn’t stand up on her own, from the beams on the kitchen ceiling.
              “I feel inspired to continue the map collage, now that I have an idea for where to put her when she’s finished.”
              Jack yawned, somewhat rudely.
              Lisa angrily pulled another patch off her left buttock. “You better be wondering what’s in your dinner later, Jack.” she said ominously.

              #3335

              Exhaustion got Lisa some sleep. She was in a black mood after the disappearance of Fanella who all of a sudden seemed to have become her preferred of the three girls, much to Mirabelle’s chagrin.

              As usual, the mood seemed to make things worse, and when Igor had tried to project to gather clues, it landed him in a nest of bees on the orange tree orchard over the fence, and it kept them busy for a while to remove the stings and soothe the poor guy in sea water cold baths poured in the stone coffin re-purposed into a nice bathtub.

              It had been a few sleepless nights, and Lisa managed to keep up thanks to coffee and nicotine patches. And cigarettes of course, which she’d tried to stop, hence the patches, but got confused, started again, and figured that a boost of nicotine gave her wings.

              The second night in a row without sleep, she was a wreck, and Jack put her in her bed, struggling a bit in the beginning but finally giving in.

              She woke up with the morning light, strangely refreshed and serene. She was pouring her morning coffee when she remembered the dream. Fanella was in it, and she was fine! She jumped off the table in her frivolous night garments to rush and tell the news to the others before she could forget it.

              #3296

              “Mission’s a success, your island awaits”

              This time, the Management’s message seemed strangely clear, and Irina didn’t care to decipher it, in case it meant something else completely. The idea of the island was all she needed at the time.

              “A simple Congratulations! wouldn’t have hurt them”, she was a bit disappointed, after all the efforts, but for now, an illegally staffed island was as good as that.

              “Mr R, pack our things, we are retiring!”
              “Very well Madam. Meaning no disrespect Madam, but is retirement an appropriate word Madam?”
              She quizzically raised her eyebrow, to which, right on cue, the robot continued
              “Madam is much too young to retire.”
              She sighed, affecting a pose. “Well, I know. But this 2222 isn’t really all the fuss they’re making about it”
              “I would agree with Madam, Madam always has the most astute perception.”
              “Well, thank you Mr R.” she giggled happily.

              She sniffed suspiciously at the air around “Did you have ambergris for dinner Mr R?”

              #3293

              The whales’ dance on the dark bluish background lit by the tiniest reflection on floating seahorses and other sea creatures, made the scenery look like an eerie night skyline, full of moving stars.
              The added feeling of weightlessness was empowering, and soon, the three queens passed side glances, barely interested by the words of wisdom of the hologram, and catching each other’s mind, almost asked their question at the same time.

              Terry was the quickest this time, “Please, please, can you do a rendition of the Name Game with your disco ball lights, we’re all dying to do a dance! Please?”

              Interestingly, the Hologram didn’t show any hesitation as it started to sing, and the three queens were all glowing as they adjusted their wigs, fins and other appendages.

              The Name Game
              Terry!
              Terry, Terry bo Berry Bonana fanna fo Ferry
              Fee fy mo Merry, Terry!
              Sadie! Sadie, Sadie bo Badie Bonana fanna fo Fadie
              Fee fy mo Madie, Sadie!
              Come on everybody!
              I say now let’s play a game
              I betcha I can make a rhyme
              Out of anybody’s name …

              The lights were on, and the dresses glittered, Terry in the spur of the moment added kelp extensions to her wig to match the sardine tones of her suit, while Sadie’s only concession to fashion was a little glowing golden jellyfish that seemed to match her bob cut, and made for a funny pulsating hat.

              Adamus was on, and unstoppable

              The first letter of the name,
              I treat it like it wasn’t there
              But a B or an F, or an M will appear
              And then I say Bo add a B
              Then I say the name and Bonana fanna and a fo
              And then I say the name again
              With an F very plain and a fee fy and a mo
              And then I say the name again
              With an M this time
              And there isn’t any name that I can’t rhyme.

              A chorus of dolphins tried to join, having Consuela burst hysterically into peals of unstoppable laughter.

              Consuela!
              Consuela, Consuela bo Bonsuela Bonana fanna fo Fonsuela
              Fee fy mo Monsuela, Consuela!
              But if the first two letters are ever the same,
              I drop them both and say the name
              Like Bob, Bob drop the Bs Bo ob
              For Fred, Fred drop the Fs Fo red
              For Mary, Mary drop the Ms Mo ary
              That’s the only rule that is contrary.

              Maurana was shaking her head in seducing moves, pretending not to die of envy of the others, and expecting her turn.
              And the music went on…

              Okay? Now say Bo: Bo
              Now Belen without a B: Elen
              Then Bonana fanna fo: bonana fanna fo
              Then you say the name again with an F very plain: Felen
              Then a fee fy and a mo: fee fy mo !
              Then you say the name again with an M this time: Melen
              And there isn’t any name that you can’t rhyme
              Maurana! Maurana, Maurana bo Baurana Bonana fanna fo Faurana
              Fee fy mo Aurana, Maurana!

              And they continued with all sorts of names for quite a while, even some of the whales’ and dolphins’ who were obviously enjoying the interlude.

              :fleuron:

              “Did you get all that on video?” Maurana asked Sadie.
              “Of course I did, the ezapper got it all. Linda Paul and the network won’t believe their eyes, it’s some heavy material! Even better than gold bars!” Sadie could barely believe what had just happened.

              The whales seemed to have been so thrilled that after a moment of silence, a smaller one broke off the cycle, went to the huge crystal and took a heart shaped shard of it to offer them.

              “I guess that’s their way of burning a DVD, what do you think?” Consuela was blissfully hopeless with technology, but could also have some moments of brilliance.

              “We should go now” Sadie said looking up from the ezapper “it looks like some unidentified giant blue crab is coming at us, and we better let the whales handle it.”

              “Are we going through that awful sewer again?” Maurana was starting to get green at the idea.

              “I don’t think so, I had Sanso pick us up at the underwater cave thanks to Consuela surprise reconnaissance mission. He just arrived and he just texted me his location. It’s not far from here. He seems to have managed to herd a few octopi to carry us across. Always surprisingly resourceful this one, I might start to like him…”
              Snapping from her emotions, she continued
              “Time to say your adieus to 2222 ladies. Tonight, everyone’s a winner. We’re going to be famous.”

              #3283

              When Huhu arrived at his destination, Irina was sunbathing to the last rays of a big red gorgeous sunset that painted the waves in iridescent shades of purple.
              At the same time, the sun’s course had already started a new day on the shores of New Zealand, where her sister was living, and she surely would be thrilled. Long had she waited for the 2222-2-22 marker.
              Here, in Hawaii, they would still be in 2222-2-21, for a few more hours.
              Irina started to shiver. 22°C her watch read. As if she needed to be any more quirky about this date…

              “Good boy!” she said to the parrot, taking the key it was carrying. Huhu tittered in contentment, cracking some of the pistachios she fed him distractedly.

              She’d just received additional information from the Management. Elusive as usual, and leaving a great deal to interpretation, including the interdiction.

              They’d promised to get her her dream island as a retirement plan. Some said it was the original land of the mermaids (who used to have as much feathers as Rio Carnival’s samba dancers), right off Italy’s Amalfi’s coast. Among its perks, it boasted to incorporate 8 staff, and a private grotto — that, if anything else than her fine waist line, would surely entice Sanso into other steamy booty calls.
              She’d seen the pictures of the properties, her first thought though was that she needed to shoot the interior decorator. In short, it was almost her moral duty to get it, and change the decor. On the whole, she was convinced the island would do her good.

              So, when she looked back at the previous instructions to see how good she’d done on her mission’s objectives, she shrugged a little. She’d understood instinctively right when it was delivered that it was a clever cipher, especially given the late date shift. So she had reinterpreted the actual commands, and leisurely waited for the travellers to appear, and get comfy. By now, she was certain they trusted her telepathic commands well enough, so that solved the trust conundrum.
              Basically, she was a major proponent of her own interpretation of old Ho’oponopono rituals. Instead of the usual mantra “I love you. I’m sorry. Please forgive me. Thank you.” hers was a bit more straightforward and was around the lines of “Green sickness to you. Peace be with you, and bugger off.
              Said a few times with proper intonation and inner work, and it was know to her to alter dramatically any block or resistance into a great flow of pure unfettered energy. So she had adamant faith that all she needed to do to complete her mission was to focus on herself and solve the resistance within by letting go.

              The last message was short.

              22 the code * whale that * BO

              It could only mean one thing. 22 was a clever cipher meaning conundrum as in a catch 22, but also an obvious reference to the temperature. So it could only mean one thing: tamper with the code on the 22nd, and send it on the way to the whales, with a bug on it.

              “Mr R, please, fetch!”

              The discrete, yet always present robot caught the key with grace, and on her careful instructions, proceeded to alter the code of the key.

              Irina was enjoying herself immensely, and found it a pity nobody could witness her true genius. “The ones who’ll read that key later, well… they are in for such a wild goose chase!”
              The second part of St Germain’s encoded hologram was now ripe with wonderful and bewildering information about blubbits and the magic kingdom of Peasland with obscure and arcane references of magic numbers like 57, that would have anybody sane turn mad as a hatter in no time. Hopefully the whales would be immune to the nonsense, but probably not humans.

              Now was the final part of the plan.

              “Mr R?”
              “Madam?”
              “I hope you are ready for this delicate reinsertion mission. Do you still have that octopus suit of yours ready?”
              “Of course, Madam. Right away Madam.”

              #3277
              Jib
              Participant

                It wasn’t important to the techromancer how long he had been living in this hut in Hawaii. A very special hut connected to many realities and times at once, a perfect representation of his mind. People would get lost in it, they did not understand how it worked. He just had to emit the intention of whenre he wanted to be and let his body follow the sound patterns. It worked very similarly to that sarcophagus in Giza. He helped in its making.

                For now, he simply wanted to take a bath. He didn’t like being in contact with too much light, which always triggered a benign itching, soon spreading across his pale skin, erupting in red patches that only long immersion in water would sooth. His little sister used to say he was a dollfinn. It seemed strangely distant and yet close to this time-space reality.

                The roughness of his rags didn’t help with the itching. He liked to think of them as his Jedi costume. The fabric, plain and rough, helped him remember that he was also made of flesh. A most difficult idea to keep in mind, as his was expanded in many times and realities at once. It helped cover his pale skin from light contact as well as create an aura of mystery with the few people who managed to find him. He had been most surprised by the last one, Sadie was her surface name. Memories of futures past rushed through his mind hut, momentarily disrupting the sound flux leading to the bathroom, and amplifying the itching. Now was not the right time and place.

                Darkness and stillness are the basic components of awareness, he focused on that simple thought that would bring him peace and stability of mind. Keep the floughts away. It was easy to understand that for him darkness was as light is for us.

                The bathroom he had chosen was in almost total darkness, for us. Even if it had a window, it was night outside. The window was only for the gentle breeze. He didn’t need light as his inner vision could see the patterns of movements of his reflected mind. He took off his rags. In the absence of light, his pale silhouette was almost glowing. The patches of red now looked like continents on a ocean of milk. One could notice a dark spot on his sacral bone. The tattoo of a black scorpio with a red dot. Red was also the color of his eyes. He was an albino, with red eyes like a rabbit.

                He sank into the water with a gush of pleasure piercing through his mind. The multidimensional walls of the hut trembled.

                #3273

                Consuela was always the more independent and adventurous. She didn’t realise at first that there was something not quite right about the perilous situation.

                Breathing under water was strange, and it felt like a not quite adjusted piece of garment (an ill-motherfucker-fitted thong Maurana would have said), as though her lungs were filled with a light yet mucous fluid.
                They’d all struggled and kicked the water in violent spams in the beginning, thinking they were about to die when the wetsuit automatic mucusbags went off, as a security measure for drowning, she’d guessed.
                But then, the magic happened and they realised they could breathe like fishes.
                Then the shark panic attack happened, which left them swimming for their lives with their prosthetic fins (and more or less graceful movements). But the shark didn’t seem interested after all, or it was driven away by a more juicy prospect, because they soon found themselves following a strange string of parallel lighted dots that dived deeper under water like an oddly placed seacraft runway. At least, that was what she thought at first, until she arrived at the cave’s entrance and realized nobody was actually following her.

                The others didn’t follow… She only had to hope that they would catch her later with a taxi or something…
                The thought of being able to discover the underwater cave trumped all sense of caution, and the lure of the prized crystal of exotic properties was enough to send her further down, despite the feeling of flashing tentacles creeping around in her peripheral vision, then gone in an instant the moment she turned the head around…

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