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  • #1049

    Waiting for Anita to come with Yuki and the others, Rafaela :goat: was discussing with Armelle, who was perched on a branch. :y_orly:

    — See, I’ve been considering getting a more snappy name, you know… Can’t make nice puns with such a daft name, only fit to a goat… beh.”
    — (embarrassed silence)
    — Eggsactly… Mmmm, something shorter…
    — Like Traf?… :yahoo_raised_eyebrow:
    — Beh… it’s “fart” in reverse… isn’t it?… Though… there’s a catchy ring to it… Trafficky Traf, mmm… interesting…
    — (more embarrassed silence, floating insane images of a goat-headed wrestler on a ring of catch…)
    — Mmm, they’re taking such a long time to come, aren’t they?

    (simultaneous time notwithstandingly)

    #1044

    Just behind the plumpy panting woman who was coming to the campfire, Balbina could see the most interesting waddling goat she had ever seen coming along.

    “And I suspect the goat talks too?” Balbina asked Yuki.
    “Oh, yes… lots even… But don’t expect to understand all she says” Yuki added with a bwink.

    Hahaha, Balbina was amazed. That place was the most delirious dream/out-of-body projection she’d had in a long long time. How entertaining.

    “Beh, don’t be fooled, Balbina dear, it’s all real. And you’ll know very soon.” the goat started to greet her.
    “And you are?”
    Rafaela, at your service.”
    “How many more like you are there here? I’ve never seen such a funny zoo…”
    “A great deal actually” answered Yuki “but not so many of them are focused in this form. You still have to meet our dear Armowlle, who is doing some spying business and occasional rescue missions on the island, and our soft Arailynx who is on more subjective missions currently…”

    Balbina was wondering “and why did you say I’ll know very soon?” she asked the goat.
    Rafaela answered with a mysterious smile “Because I’m planning to communicate a way out of this island to two of my little protégés, and I expect some of these people will follow. And you are very likely to meet them in the flesh when they get there.”
    “Really?!” Balbina was amazed. This dream was taking qualities of realness she wouldn’t have suspected the least it to have.

    “Now,” Yuki cut short the amazement moment “we need to have those among our friends willing to leave, to be prepared to leave at dawn.”

    “Okay” Anita, who had been seated on the sand quietly till then, rocking gently from side to side in a calm meditation, said softly.

    “Oh, she really can feel us talking…” Balbina said more to herself than to anyone else. And looking closely at the girl’s energy field, she could see how expanded it was, reaching those of Yuki, Kay the spirit dog, and Rafaela and even hers in luminous threads.

    “Not all of them are leaving tonight” answered Yuki to her unspoken question. “I think Anita and her parents will, but it’s more than probable than the others will stay. Some have business to do here, and others are in vacations huhu…”

    “You’re right, seems like the one with the strange energy field is gone already?”
    “Oh Claude, you mean. Yes. His mummification experience wasn’t too pleasant, and he has unfinished business with the people of the island; no wonder he prefers to stay here on his own.”

    (on the beach, around the campfire, in Regional Area 1, or physical reality)

    Awww, plane-crash you say? ‘ow wonderful… Mavis was chatting with Akita. Ye need to come with me, ye can’t stay ‘ere all night. Besides, Shar and Glaw will be so thrilled to see you. And we were starting to think it was all boring ‘ere; didn’t know they would have real survivors like on real-TV!

    Aaron and his familythey would probably need some better shelter, I assume. This probably would be best for us to come with you… Akita answered. And apparently, Claude has left, so that’s just us…

    Owlright then! Mavis beamed, come with me handsome! she said, clutching the soldier’s muscular arm under hers.
    Don’t worry Akita, we’ll follow you, said Anita to the soldier who was visibly appealed by the woman but was also weary to leave Anita alone with her sleeping parents. Besides, we can see the lights behind the trees, it’s very near…

    See you there Anita! Akita said to Anu
    Bye Akita! And don’t worry, Kay is always with you she said with a mysterious smile.

    As they walked side by side to the facility, Mavis said “Kay? A friend of yours?”
    “Oh, my lost dog… Nothing to worry about” answered Akita absently.

    #1037

    Dory, what’s the elsespace arrangement? asked young Becky, rubbing the sleep from her eyes. And who is Gayesh? I had the strangest dream. I think I was in the dream, but I was older than I am now, and everywhere I looked, there was another me. Then I had another dream, a fat lady in a grey raincoat was sitting on a bench and she’d dropped her blue glass mosaic on the pavement and it was all shattered in pieces. She was on her way to the antique market with it to sell it and she dropped it…..

    Interesting, Becky, replied Dory absentmindedly. Don’t forget to write them in your dream journal.

    #2151

    In reply to: The Story So Far

    ÉricÉric
    Keymaster

      The Wrick Saga

      We become involved in the Wrick saga with the great-grand children of Lord (Hilarion) Wrick, living currently in Orkney Islands in 2057: India Louise and Cuthbert.
      The family has a long intricate story, but roughly we know:

      • Margaret, first wife of Sean Wrick (unique son of Lord Wrick) died in a tragic accident somewhere in the past, and now Sean can talk to her most of the times.
      • Sean has a penchant for strong spirits, but in an interesting twist of fate happens to meet and fall madly in love with older Becky (Vane), step-daughter of Dory, during the inauguration of the T.R.A.P. (transfocal reality attraction parc or something) in flooded New York (New Venice). They wed in a hurry (insert connection to Russia and old friends in the business of frozen reindeer meat) and plan a trip to Sri Lanka. Becky who has become pregnant from a “time-traveler” (Chris Robin) gives birth to her three first children, and seems to get cloned in a secret facility to pursue more noble ideals.
      • Lord Wrick dies after getting reconciliated with his son Sean. His fortune is inherited by Cuthbert who seems reluctant to bear the charge. His sister India Louise is pregnant with a son from the traveling painter Bill Jobsworth who was painting the family portraits and was involved in some unusual experiences during his stay at the castle (mummies and stone heads)
      • Later in the Wrick Saga, is born Midora, who gets the books from Cuthbert and India Louise and investigates them.

      The books are thought to be energy deposits of this story, initially started in our timeline by Dory, Finn, Yann and Yurick. The story then was rediscovered by Becky, who initiated a Reality Play with her friends Tina, Sam and Al.

      #1033
      TracyTracy
      Participant

        Dory was just about to set off for Rita’s house for the appointment with the hairdresser when she read the news. Rita was getting married soon and wanted to experiment with different hairstyles and make-up, and Dory had planned to join her for a bit of a make-over , out of curiosity, but the news of cyclone Ycart and its trail of devastaion caught her attention.

        Intuitively she knew that the island that she had tried to book a flight to while she was on a Heathrow stop-over had been affected by the cyclone, and right then and there Dory made up her mind to go to the island on the pretext of helping the relief aid workers. In actuality she was merely curious ~ well, more than ‘merely’ curious, she was feeling the pull of an interesting probability choice.

        #1809

        In reply to: Synchronicity

        Jib
        Participant

          ok there are enough syncs in such a short few time that I have to write some of them :)

          Since a few days, I have loads of them with Rome, it began with my desire to watch the series and shows it to Eric. Then something about a dream of Stacy ;;) and some pics of Rome coins Melissa sent me. And then at work, I heard someone tell another individual : “you mean you never went to Rome? Yes, I went…”

          I play with my sister, Francie and Eric to an energy ball exchange game, and there are some interesting hits each time. The bomb sent by Francie was particularly interesting in that it was a glass of wine, and after I looked at the energy ball early in the afternoon yesterday, we went to buy some stuffs for my new wood carving hobby :p and we found something interseting about a set for carving glasses. We bought it of course.

          At the book shop, where we found the prout syncs ;)), there was that book among the dvds… about Natural Vision Improvement by Janet Goodrich… and talking with Francie of the energy ball, I talked to her about this book and she told me about an optometrist in her city who does the same thing and that she had an appointment tomorrow!

          Well I think that’s all that I can remember for now :p

          #1011

          A Pacific island then… she thought

          Let’s move there…
          She could feel her ghost body hover, like a feather sucked into a whirlwind.
          She had to be confident she’ll snap back right at her lying body when she’ll be over with the trip.
          Trust that everything will be okay. As it always were. Will always be.

          She could see the Earth from above… The Pacific Ocean, its huge vastness, delimited by coasts of lights.

          Oh, of course, she had not thought of that, but it was night there. She could see towns, concentrations of which were twinkling like shiny stars on a dark sky; but she didn’t want towns. Far too crowded, lots of energies that were maybe intoxicating at first, but she could feel she would be worn out in a second.
          For, as she traveled in spirit, she had access to so much more information than people usually get with their physical senses alone,… it was hard to explain.

          There… in that dark patch, when she moves closer, she can feel the immensity of the ocean surrounding everywhere. She moves closer to that long island that must be New Zealand, because she doesn’t want to be far from any sort of indication of her location. Keeping an eye on this, she spots something which isn’t a city light. It’s dancing, like a fire.
          How can she spot a fire at that distance is beyond her understanding, but she has learned not to question, and act upon her impulses.

          She wills herself at the fire.

          Waves, the peaceful sound of the waves.

          Around the fire, she can see a dog, crouched near a thoughtful man; there’s a young girl too, with a little white rabbit in her lap. The girl’s parents are resting in a hug, and a man with a strange energy configuration, the like of which she hasn’t seen, is closing the circle.

          What a bunch of interesting people…

          #1002

          Becky noticed with a satisfied smile that the word ‘Becky’ was by far the biggest word in the cloud. Hhhhmmmm, interesting, she murmured as she perused her random (well semi-random ~ she had deliberately chosen a cloud-batch with her name in it) selection of words.

          sudden feeling!! :yahoo_surprise: breathe!! :yahoo_yawn: remembered sort (appear soft?) :yahoo_wasntme: ~ akayli?? ~ :yahoo_thinking: seem…. cave…. yeah, huge! :cluebox: known luce; knew agreed. :yahoo_thumbsup: becky full power hey! :buffoon:

          #998
          ÉricÉric
          Keymaster

            “Okay,” Al started.
            “At the essence of I Ching, is the notion that everything is mutable, and changes. Everything changes, except the law that says that everything changes.
            “In many ways, the I Ching is like a book where the pages numbering change every time you start to read it. Not unlike our story composition.”

            “I get that,” answered Tina, interested by what would come out.

            “So,” Al continued, always disagreeably pondering, Tina would say. “usually, when people are drawing to read from the I Ching, they have six numbers that give an hexagram. And these numbers are carrying into them their potential change, which usually gives another hexagram to read.”
            “In our stories, the entries have a fixed identity, which is given by the system; this is our starting point. For your comments, this is ’4-191-328’.
            “But as everything evolves, our entries are given an order in the book; this order is changeable, and that’s what I will use for the second hexagram; in your case it’s ’2-151-223’.”
            “If you say so…” Tina sighed, a bit lost.
            “Oh, I’m inventing the rules as we speak,” Al said trying to reassure her somewhat.
            “I don’t know if that makes me feel better” she said.

            “Okay. Now, I need to create the hexagrams; hexagrams are defined by six straight or broken lines; zero or one, binary system. Here, Chinese usually use the convention that odd is straight, and even is broken… Ahaha, doesn’t seem to make sense, but odd is male, unbalanced into action, and is associated with single, straight things. Broken is paired, complete in reflection, unbalanced in passivity.”

            “And I wonder when we actually start to hear something that makes sense?” whispered Tina, a bit crossly.

            “Okay, the thing I see, is that I have trouble making one hexagram with seven numbers, ahaha”, Al laughed a bit embarrassed.

            “Oh, then no point in wiggling like that” said Tina very sweetly, “Scrap any bit that bothers you”.

            “Okay, anyway we can go deeper into them afterwards if needed; I’ll scrap the first number rather than the last, because you see, 2 and 4 are both even, and thus there is no mutation here.”

            Original Mutation
            8 ╌ 3 —
            2 ╌ 2 ╌
            3 — 2 ╌
            1 — 1 —
            9 — 5 —
            1 — 1 —
            4 ╌ 2 ╌

            “So here we are, if we scrap the bottom one, we get…”

            #992
            ÉricÉric
            Keymaster

              And, Al just got a striking revelation… that if you combine some entries numbers, you may get a I Ching sentence which may reveal some interesting clues…
              It’s all about the flow of transformations, sweetie. he mumbled to Tina in the most ponderous way.

              Tina answered a bit flippantly “what you are up to now…”
              “Let me show you,” Al said, “could you point me two entries that are particularly meaningful to you?”
              “Oh, let me finish my entry first”, Tina answered

              Al waited…

              #989
              ÉricÉric
              Keymaster

                Oh, he thought, at least Tina’s coming another 8 closer (then immediately thinking he was now changing it to another start of a cycle — another convenient way of saying he’d just blown this new magic occurrence of “858”, but wasn’t it how changes were supposed to be made?).

                Now, what the cloud had in store for him, he wondered…

                elikozoe sync closer especially dear ask soon suddenly began known difficult step”

                OK, Al thought, now that’s interesting… this was no coincidence that “Elikozoe”, his nom de plume (he was born Albert (Al) Yokoso, from a father of Japanese descent and a mother of Cajun descent) would appear like that out of the blue…
                As for “dear”, who else than “Dear” Tina :agreed:

                #987
                ÉricÉric
                Keymaster

                  Interesting that we are heading to the 888 th comment in the play, and it will soon be August the 8 th with a third eight in the year number…
                  Will we make it in time though? Get around that circle of eights? the thought left him pondering.

                  #947

                  Orgetak was fond of taking a crocodile as an animal essence.
                  He was coming from a fragmentation of some big names of Essence Land, and he shared many connections with lots of other “essences siblings”. In that moment, he was having fun observing Rafaela… though he was having a weird sense of wanting to merge more thoroughly with her… perhaps that crocodile disguise was cloaking his judgment… He wasn’t too sure.

                  He had focused recently, to catch up with one of Rafaela’s own focuses, a rather famous one, whose genetic pool was a magical blend which would be spread in many new enticing physical probabilities. In a haste, despite of no time by which to measure it, he had created himself a past of an Sri Lankan geneticist named Dr. Gayesh Sitharaya, whose interest (or intent) dwelt in exploring the multiplicity of one individual’s aspects…

                  :fleuron:

                  What’s the catch then?
                  What do you mean Al?
                  Oh, come on Tinipooh, you know there’s always a catch… Surely Becky mentioned that on the phone…
                  Ahaha, are we speaking of the same Becky? :yahoo_rolling_eyes:
                  Well, why would that guy help her anyway. And I’m not really sure having another her on the loose is of any help for that matter :yahoo_hypnotized: Sounds more like a world domination plan to me… :yahoo_dontwannasee:
                  Well, you know Becky, always blissfully jumping in the stream, even if it’s full of piranhas. It’s good she even thought of giving us a call…
                  Yeah, too bad our thought reading techniques seem to get less and less reliable these days…

                  #936

                  California, 1849

                  Almost five months… Five whole months they’d been traveling all around the place at a very slow pace.
                  Twilight was enjoying every instant of being in the middle of that strange moving cohort.

                  She had been inspired to write daily. Not much at the beginning, but it was all “in the dedication and intent that marvel would shine through”, as Felix, the Otter man had been saying to her.

                  In truth, she wasn’t really expecting marvels, but marvels had come to her more than once.
                  At times, she even felt compelled to write about it to Jo and Elroy, her dear brothers. Of course, she’d been writing with a clockwork regularity, posting sometimes more than a few letters at each of their settling near a new town, all the way from Texas, to Colorado, Utah, Nevada and finally California. She wasn’t even sure the actual letters were reaching them, but she more than once felt like her thoughts had reached them throughout the distance, and her dreams would confirm her into these intuitions.
                  That trip was hard, harder than she would have guessed, with all the heat, dust and chaotic dirt trails, but the company and fellowship was always uplifting, and a joy of each instant.
                  Even the war between America and Mexico that made travel even more perilous was over after two years, and things all around seemed to settle down more peacefully as if to reflect that truce.

                  And now, looking at all of what she had gathered, she was amazed at these marvels she had collected, those nuggets of their lives, each moment seemingly so fleeting and trite, and yet, as they were put together, all marvelously interwoven.
                  Though she mostly loved passionate real-life stories, she had to admit she had a soft spot (or let it be said, an un-common spot) for one of her most delirious story.
                  She had been inspired to write something about giant ants after she’d been amazed at seeing huge ant hills during their trip in the deserts. There was this mad quack who was trying to extract some sort of honey from giant ants to make a powerful drug, and and she had added lots of her friends from the show inside this story. Herself was a delightful jet-black haired beauty with an impossible name and diverse and frustrated love interests, spying on the mad quack… She even started to dream about that story at times…

                  She loved that gentle slipping into abundant nutness…

                  Now that they were arrived in San Francisco, she was considering settling there for a while, sharing her time between writing and dancing. Time would tell.

                  #913
                  Jib
                  Participant

                    The afternoon was hot, a bit moist and sticky too. Yurick and Yann were enjoying the freshness of Dory’s patio.
                    Cold lemon drink in cocktail glasses, the radio playing some sun related song.
                    Dan was out playing golf with friends and would be here for dinner.
                    Dory, dozing on her rocking chair had told Yurick and Yann that they could use their computers, they had 2 of them, so Yurick could take Dory’s and Yann could take Dan’s. Yurick was busy checking his mails and answering all those who had submitted some article for the next issue of their e-zine, and Yann wanted some distraction. He was just looking at some pictures on Gurgle, some movies on Yootune. Some of them were cracking him up, and he had difficulties keeping his :-| face serious.
                    At the same time he was browsing through Dan’s pictures folders. Some of them were really amazing. Pictures of Dory on the field, with her pith helmet and her brushes, her shovels or even her pick. She was very funny looking when she was finding something seemingly out of nowhere, having dug all day long with no result and then finally some treasure! Often, Yann thought, it was only some fragment of a vase or some broken tool, but she always had this awe-inspired gaze ;))

                    What is the name of this singer again?, asked Yurick.
                    You ask me?

                    The grin on Yurick’s face was all that Yann was waiting for. Yann had no memory of names of singers or actors. Their face, once he had seen it were recorded in his mind, but their name was like a summer breeze, refreshing, but soon forgotten. He knew that Yurick was more asking that to himself.

                    Dunno me luv. You can ask the mummy in the living room if you want…
                    Hahaha, graowl

                    Hehehe. Funny that, thought Yann. Coming back to the computer screen, his eyes fall on a strange folder name.
                    Patate? What’s that!?
                    Double-click.
                    Just a few files. Videos mainly. The names weren’t very evocative…
                    Yann picked one and waited for the movie to begin.
                    It was kind of black and white movie… the grain was gross and old fashioned. There was no audio.
                    Yann had an old memory of a similar movie seen on the comodor computer of his cousin’s parents… his cousin had told him about some weird movie he had found in a floppy disk of his father…
                    So, there was a man, maybe in his 60’s, he was wearing a gray bathing suit and was a bit hairy. Drinking some kind of grey cocktail.
                    A girl came in… with an amazing leopard baby-doll!!! from what Yann could see, she was blond and fleshy. Oh! and she had some friends. All of them with a leo-part on them :-?

                    Ahem! Yurick? Wanna see what I found?
                    Hmmm
                    I’m sure you’ll find some interest :)) hahaha! Oh my Flove! She’s really doing it!?
                    =))

                    Seeing his friend hilarious picked the curiosity of Yurick and he eventually came to see. The look on his face when he saw what was happening was too much for Yann who burst into laughter. That was enough to wake Dory who almost fell off her rocked chair.

                    What is that? Where did you find that… thing? Dory looked offended, but soon she was blushing.
                    Oh! no… don’t look at that. It was a youthful mistake…

                    #891
                    Jib
                    Participant

                      His teeth had been nudging him for a few days, or maybe a few weeks actually. Last Wednesday, Yurick and him had a chat with their friends Michaela and Elias, and Yann told them about his questioning.
                      Now, he was wondering about what was the meaning of all that in his new understanding of his reality. He was having the impression that he was in a complex video game and that at the beginning he hadn’t been told about all the fun stuffs he could do in it. Many aspects of this video game were unraveling and still he was feeling cold feet about jumping ahead.
                      Yann was noticing that his teeth were nudging himself mainly when he was doing certain things, like judging himself, finding himself unworthy, trying to force himself in certain directions, or to force his body. It was like his body was an amazing communication device from him to himself. It was continuously giving him information, not only about his environment like temperature, smells, lights and images, but also about what would have been hidden like weather patterns, mass excitement or balance, mass tension or release…
                      Elias had told him and Yurick that their energy was constantly open to each other, in a continuous merging and exchanging process. They were quite aware of that now, and at the beginning of their relation it would have been overwhelming, but now it was really fulfilling in many ways. Even when they were not in physical proximity, they would be together and feel each other. But they were also more centered upon themselves and they were not as influenced by the mood of the other as they had been ;)) they had reached a more balanced relationship and were beginning to intensify the movement.
                      Yann had also begun to be aware of a humming tone, inaudible, but very present. It was humming under the veil of this reality and he had been told it was one of his language of communication. This was very intriguing and it was overlapping his interest in his body and his teeth, he was wondering about the effects of this humming tone on them.

                      #881

                      Aum Geog spent a long time seating motionless before the piece of parchment which had just been delivered by a specially trained fincheon.
                      Fincheons were not particularly elegant, (not to say downright ugly) one had to admit, but they were very convenient, once you noticed that their feathers were a special shining tint of grey which almost made them invisible. They always knew how to fly back, and this one had made no exception.
                      But it was a bearer of annoying news for the newly appointed Elder of the Monastery who was trying to curb his irateness by staying still.

                      This… he was at a loss for words. Breathe, breathe he exhorted himself.

                      A few months ago, when he was appointed Elder, his patient work of diligence seemed to have just paid off. He had thought he would be given the keys, and more importantly, the chalice.
                      But that sly dog of Hrih had decided otherwise. He had transmitted the chalice to that irresponsible and naïve novice Franiel, while giving him a bunch of rusted keys he didn’t give two poohs about.
                      Of course, it was only a matter of time before he could get it back, all he had to do was to make Franiel uncomfortable enough that he willingly relinquish the ownership to someone… someone like himself of course!
                      The annoying thing about this damn chalice you see, is that it won’t properly function with anyone else than the rightful owner (except for small uninteresting tricks). Obviously, Hrih didn’t want him to have access to its powers, but that old monkey was now gone, and there wasn’t much he could do about what was going on.

                      In fact, the plan was nearly perfect. Two birds, one stone. Bring Franiel to have some appropriate spell modifications carved onto that chalice, and have him give it back to the Elder, Aum Geog himself.
                      Obviously, he couldn’t just let go such a precious artifact in the nature without appropriate stealthy surveillance. Thanks to one of his faithful servants, Brother Derwish, he was kept informed of the progresses. A former master of disguises that a other-Worldly experience had him join the orders, Brother Derwish was no short of brains nor tricks in his bag, and that parchment was another proof of it.
                      If he had renounced to contact Elder Aum Geog directly through the glowing balls, and take the risks of unexpected delays, it was because they were most probably watched and their communication monitored.

                      So here went the news:

                      SPARFLY HAS MADE CONTACT WITH BIRD OF PREY. EGG DISAPPEARED.
                      NESTING CHANGED TREE. GNAT STICKS TO THE POOH.

                      Brother Derwish imaginative poetry could mean but one thing. Or two perhaps.

                      The little twit had been watched by someone else who had showed him some of the powers of the egg… err, the chalice. It would have partly activated the chalice, and make it disappear unless its owner needs it enough to have it appear again. Obviously, without chalice, or thinking it was lost, he had changed his course to another place.
                      Hopefully, Brother Derwish was following his trail closely.

                      If more disastrous news had to come, Elder Aum Geog would have to summon his char of marmoths (big toothed hibernating woolliphants) and go there by himself.

                      :fleuron:

                      Leonard was content. It had not happened exactly as he had thought, but as he had explained to Malvina, the only wise thing to do was to teach the boy about the powers of the chalice. That would active its self-protective cloaking power, and have the boy temporarily relieved of this burden.
                      For if he had been entrusted the chalice by the old Abbot, that was surely for a good reason.

                      As Franiel had been moving, Leonard had had Moufle watch over him. Apparently, Leonard and his dog weren’t the only ones on his trail… The wiry gangly tonsured guy clothed in a potatoes sack didn’t seem to be here by chance either…

                      #877

                      Oh for foocks sake, Finnley grumbled, does that woman never go home?

                      Elizabeth Tattler was passed out on the desk, two empty wine boottles on the floor beside her chair.

                      Foock you too! Foock you too! Screeched Robert X

                      She grinned, she quite enjoyed Robert X, or MrX as she liked to call him.

                      So what’s our Elizabeth been up to eh Mr X? Finnley picked up the messy pile of papers on the desk and carefully put them in order. They looked sort of interesting. Maybe it was time for a rest break. She pulled out her vegemoot sandwooches on chunks of rye bread, and, carefully dusting it first, she sat down on a big armchair in the corner of the office to read.

                      Twenty minoots later she threw the pages on the floor in disgust, but then, disturbed by the mess it made, picked them up again.

                      The character Veranassessee left her particularly disturbed. What a name! And what a Wishy Wooshy Noomby Poomby. Whats all this YES YES YES businoos! That Agent Gabriele was a selfish and dictatorial bastood as far as she could tell.

                      She would see about that! She was no writer but she was sure she could do better than this load of old mongoat droppings.

                      Well she would if she could find a pen on Ms Tattler’s shamboolic desk anyway.

                      :fleuron:

                      Veranassessee (V) drew back from his sloppy kisses. Wait! Have you got protection? she asked, imperatively and sensibly.

                      Protection? … my gun is under the pillow … oh right I see what you mean, stuttered Agent Gabriele apologetically, reluctantly pulling himself from making suction noises on her breast to rummage for a condom in his suitcase.

                      Great, now say that stuff again. You know all that crap about how beautiful I am. I sort of liked it.

                      Agent Gabriele willingly obliged. Of course V recognised it for the lustful rubbish it was … still might as well have a bit of fun. He was damn good looking.

                      Perfect, she said. Now, what position do you prefer?

                      He was momentarily speechless, stunned, and even more aroused, if that was indeed possible, by her forthrightness.

                      She rolled her eyes. Yes, you know POSITION … on top … underneath ..front … back… through a hole in a blanket …? myself I like to keep things simple, don’t want to make too much mess around the place.

                      Anything you want Darling Agent V.

                      A little bit later he sighed contentedly. You are by far the best lover I have ever had.

                      Thanks, everyone says that. Hey! Put out that cigarette, there’s no smoking inside you know. She looked critically around the room. You know this room could do with a damn good clean, I could see dust on the headboard, you know, while we were doing it.

                      I’ll make sure I clean it next time, he murmered huskily, kissing her, and saying that stuff again, about how perfect she was.

                      :fleuron:

                      Finnley giggled to herself. Much better! Well who’d have thought she would have a bit of a gift for writing. Carefully she replaced the pages under the telepooh and made her exit. With a bit of luck Ms Tattler would never notice.

                      #875
                      TracyTracy
                      Participant

                        Chris Robin’s brief sojourn in the past had been an interesting one. He’d only spent a couple of hours in the year 2034 and had unfortunately arrived during a rainstorm. He arrived back in the year 2163 soaked to his skin, but grinning like a Cheshire cat. Armed only with the time travellers password, ‘Tarty Nun’, Chris had expected to spend alot more time trying to making contact with a TF, or ‘timetravellers friend’ than he did; he was astonished to see a tarty nun almost immediately upon arrival.

                        The girl was giggling to herself, and reciting limericks as she wandered aimlessly through the bushes, looking really quite fetching in an interesting little garment. As she brushed past him, seemingly oblivious to his presence, he heard her whisper the password. “… coming… in … tarty nun…..”

                        #867
                        Jib
                        Participant

                          “Actually, Sam said, you are already pregnant. I don’t know if you had realized it, but it is clear in your energy. You are creating a vortex entry point in your womb.”

                          He winked mischievously.

                          “It all seems to be about influence and suggestion these days, he added with a wink. Remember, you are playing with these probabilities not because you are a victim of them, but because they present an interest to you. And remember also that they would be all actualized by one of your probable selves nonetheless.”

                          Becky did the rolling eyes, and it seemed she wouldn’t stop when Sam burst into laughter and hugged her. He kissed her swiftly and said :

                          “You can call Sean now, he understands more about it than you realize.”

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