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  • #6774

    As they trekked through the endless dunes, Lord Gustard could barely contain his excitement. The thought of discovering the bones of the legendary giant filled him with a childlike wonder, and he eagerly scanned the horizon for any sign of their destination. As the fearless leader of the group, he had a deep-seated passion for adventure and exploration, a love for pith helmets. However, his tendency to get lost in his own thoughts at the most inconvenient times could sometimes get him in tricky situations. Despite this, he has an unshakable determination to succeed and a deep respect for the cultures and traditions of the places he visits.

    Lady Floribunda, on the other hand, was the picture of patience and duty. She knew that this journey was important to her husband and she supported him unwaveringly, even as she silently longed for the comforts of home. Her first passion was for gossips and the life of socialites —but there was hardly any gossip material in the desert, so she fell back to her second passion, botany, that would often get her lost in her own world, examining and cataloging the scant flora and fauna they encountered on their journey. It wasn’t unusual to hear her at time talking to plants as if they were her dolls or children.

    Cranky, meanwhile, couldn’t help but roll her eyes at Lord Gustard’s exuberance. “I swear, if I have to listen to one more of his whimsical ramblings, I’ll go mad,” she muttered to herself. Her tendency to grumble about the hardships of their journey had taken a turn for the worse, considering the lack of comfort from the past nights. She was as sharp-tongued as she was pragmatic, with a love for tea and crumpets that bordered on obsessive. Despite her grumpiness, she has a heart of gold and a deep affection for her companions, and especially young Illi.

    Illi, on the other hand, was thrilled by every new discovery along the way. Whether it was a curious beetle scuttling across the sand or a shimmering oasis in the distance, she couldn’t help but express her excitement with a constant stream of questions and exclamations. Illi was a bright and enthusiastic young girl, with a passion for adventure and a wide-eyed wonder at the world around her. She had a tendency to burst into song at the most unexpected moments.

    Tibn Zig and Tanlil Ubt remained loyal and steadfast, shrugging off any incongruous spur of the moment extravagant outburst from Gustard. Their experience in the desert had taught them to stay calm and focused, no matter what obstacles they might encounter. But behind the stoic façade, they had a penchant for telling tall tales and playing practical jokes on their companions. Their mischievousness was however only for good fun, and they had become fiercely loyal to Lord Gustard after he’d rescued them from sand bandits who were planning to sell them as slave. Needless to say, they would have done whatever it takes to keep the Fergusson family safe.

    Illi was hoping for eccentric traders and desert nomads to fortune-seeking treasure hunters and conniving bandits, but for miles it was just plain unending desert. The worst they found on their path were unending sand dunes, a few minuscule deadly scorpions, and mostly contending with the harsh desert sun beating down upon them. Finally, after days of wandering through the desert, they reached their destination.

    As they approached Tsnit n’Agger, the landscape began to change. The sand dunes gave way to rocky cliffs and towering red sandstone formations, and the air grew cooler and more refreshing. The group pressed on, their spirits renewed by the prospect of discovering the secrets of the legendary giant’s bones.

    At last, they arrived at the entrance to the giant’s cave. Lord Gustard led the way, his torch casting flickering shadows on the walls as they descended deeper into the earth. The air grew colder and damper, and the sounds of dripping water echoed around them.

    As they turned a corner, they suddenly found themselves face to face with the giant’s bones. Towering above them, the massive skeletal structure filled the cavern from floor to ceiling. The sight of the giant’s bones towering above them was awe-inspiring, and Lord Gustard was practically bouncing with excitement. The group behind him was in awe, even Cranky, as they were taking in the enormity and majesty of the ancient creature.

    Floribunda and Cranky exchanged a weary but amused look, while Illi gazed up at the bones with wide-eyed wonder.

    “Let’s get to work,” Lord Gustard declared, his enthusiasm undimmed. And with that, they set to the task of uncovering the secrets of the legendary giant, each in their own way.

    ÉricÉric
    Keymaster

      Some background for the storyline of Franiel

      For safekeeping and future explorations…

      Franiel a talented young monk from Mount Elok’ram is going on a journey of a lifetime after the death of the old abbot Hrih Chokyam Lin’potshee despite being his chosen successor unknown to everybody. He is sent by the usurper Elder Aum Geog to a journey down to the Village of Chard Dam Jarfon to engrave a precious chalice with sacred words on a sealed scroll.

      He encounters Léonard a zany alchemist with his dog Moufle who takes his precious cargo.

      Franiel finds shelter with Phoebe Chesterhope, a master thief who trains him until she disappears after taking her motorbike on a dangerous interdimensional mission on the day of Marduë. Franiel is then put back in the path of Léonard, who had stolen the chalice for safekeeping. Léonard teaches Franiel about the powers of the chalice (the famed Cup of Margilonia), on the day of Seldië, and activates its self-protective cloaking power to temporarily relieve Franiel of his burden.

      Under Léonard’s tutelage, the true destiny of Franiel is revealed, and he can claim his rightful place as the chosen successor of the old abbot, on the day of Marduë. With the help of Leonard and the power of the chalice, Franiel embarks on a new journey, equipped with the knowledge and skills he needs to fulfill his destiny. However, with someone else following him and the possibility of danger lurking around every hexade, Franiel must stay vigilant and continue to rely on his newfound allies to help him succeed. Only time will tell if Franiel is truly ready for the challenges that lie ahead on his path to becoming a great leader and guardian of the sacred chalice.

      #6770

      In reply to: The Stories So Near

      ÉricÉric
      Keymaster

        What satisfying conclusion to this saga?

        Granola was the tying material to their friend, and her pop-in nascent capabilities (ability to project into material matter, sometimes being corporeal) could help. Her goal was to wake her friends out of their routines, and reinvigorate the stories they tell themselves about their lives.

        • Maeve was the one making custom dolls.
        • Shawn Paul her handsome bearded bachelor next door was an aspiring writer looking for a story to tell and to become published.
        • Lucinda is their neighbour, enrolled in creative writing courses.
        • Jerk is a clerk at a local WholeDay*Mart and also manages a forum in his spare time.

         

        • Uncle Fergus is Maeve’s father’s estranged brother.

        The dolls were found in all across places, used by different groups, maybe glamour bombs for some, maybe ways to smuggle information and keys.

        Across their trips they connect with story characters, and unknowingly revive their stories.

        POP*IN THREAD (plot development suggestions, to be looked into later)

        Maeve and Shawn-Paul are still in Tikfijikoo, investigating the mysterious dolls and their connection to Uncle Fergus. They’ve also encountered strange happenings, including a missing girl and a strange man in a top hat.

        Meanwhile, Jerk is still moderating the forum and dealing with the strange messages. Lucinda is continuing her creative writing course and enjoying her time with Fabio.

        Granola is currently on a mission to find Ailill and learn more about pop-ins, while also trying to reconnect with her friends and figure out what’s going on with the dolls.

        As for the mysterious man following Maeve, his intentions are still unclear, but it seems he has some connection to Uncle Fergus and the dolls. The group is still trying to uncover the truth and figure out their next steps.

        :fleuron:

        In the end, Granola’s pop-in abilities proved to be the key to unlocking the mystery of the dolls and their connection to Uncle Fergus. With her help, Maeve and Shawn-Paul were able to uncover the truth about the dolls and their purpose, and use them to reconnect with various story characters across their trips.

        Through their adventures, they also discovered the power of storytelling and the importance of shaking up their routines to keep their lives interesting and full of wonder. Jerk found a new sense of purpose in managing the forum and connecting with others through his passion for the dolls and their stories.

        In the final chapter, Uncle Fergus reconciled with Maeve’s father and shared the true meaning behind the dolls and their connection to their family history.

        While Shawn-Paul’s path led him to become a successful author, Lucinda’s path took a different turn. She found fulfillment in her creative writing course and continued to hone her skills, but she didn’t pursue a career as a writer. Instead, she used her passion for storytelling to help others, working as a therapist and using storytelling techniques to help her clients work through their struggles and find healing. Lucinda’s work was deeply rewarding, and she felt fulfilled in being able to help others in such a meaningful way.

        As for Granola, she continued to pop-in and out of their lives, using her abilities to bring joy and excitement to their everyday routines, and keeping their stories alive for years to come. The group remained close friends, bonded by their shared experiences and love of storytelling.

        #6737
        Jib
        Participant

          I hear the greenhouse airlock open. I don’t look up and keep my focus on the alien sweat pea plant I have been working on. I’m trying to get it to bind itself to the carbon mesh I printed to help it spread instead of grow like a ball. My hands are precise and my movement efficient. I’ve been practicing everyday since I embarked on this ship some fourteen years ago. I don’t allow distraction when I’m in the greenhouse, and Georges was often one.

          He plants himself on my left.

          “I found the beast,” he says.

          “One moment. I’m almost done.”

          I have to be careful with the tendrils. An abrupt gesture would cause them to wind around my fingers and pierce my lab gloves with their myriad of teeth. As sharp and poisonous as black mamba teeth, I’d be dead in seconds.

          “Here, little thing. That’s good,” I say, encouraging the plant.

          After the first three tendrils find their bearing on the carbon mesh, the rest of the plant follows.

          “That’s gross,” Georges says. “I don’t know why you always pick the most dangerous ones.”

          I don’t answer and observe the plant wraps its tendrils around the carbon wires like it found a prey. I spent weeks trying to find the right combination of softness and tension for the alien plant to accept it.

          “I’m done,” I say.

          I look up and I see the creature in Georges’ hands.

          “Isn’t she cute?” Georges asks.

          “She? Should I worry next time you tell me I’m cute?”

          The creature’s cute, as much as a rodent with protruding eyes can be. It’s clearly neither from Earth, nor from Alienor. The eyes are looking straight at me and its muzzle wiggles as if getting some information through its sense of smell. It isn’t dangerous, since Georges is still alive. He’s the opposite of careful and after all those years together, I have to wonder how he’s still alive.

          #6721

          In reply to: Orbs of Madjourneys

          Xavier was dramatically behind his work, but he could see the benefits to his mood of the break from his routine. While the others had been enlisted to a bush tucker cooking lesson by their hosts, he’d retreated to his room for some catching up with his programming.
          The lady with the dreadlocks in particular seemed to have taken a liking to Youssef so much so that she had offered to join their group for the cooking lesson session, which apparently was initially met with disbelief a first, then surprise and anxiety and finally made her family raise a few eyebrows profusely. Youssef didn’t seem bothered by it, and to be fair, did seem completely oblivious to the situation.

          Speaking of awkward situations, after the bar discussion, Glimmer had got off on her own, apparently going to chase for literal rainbows. She’d mentioned in a conspiratorial tone “You don’t see them rainbows nowadays, have you? See, that’s what I mean, them with the government electric waves, laser rays and stuff, they manipulate the weather… Keep people docile and hopeless. So I’m going on a chase.”
          Xavier had frowned at Yasmin before she could top it off with a “good luck with the unicorns.” He didn’t need telepathy to know that Yasmin could hardly pass on an ironic salvo in a potentially comical situation.
          Anyway, Glimmer leaving off to new adventures of her own without overstaying her welcome was met with a few sighs of relief. The four of them quite liked the comfort of their little group with their insider references and jokes.

          His programmic work was rather tedious and slow, but he’d made good progress connecting the new training model into the AL, and the muffled sounds of the cooking class with the occasional laughter did make him want to finish faster.

          He hoped he would get most of it done in time to enjoy the incoming festival. The town however ghostly it had seemed on arrival, had taken a unexpected liveliness with colorful bunting flags now spreading across all roads intersections.

          With all this newfound activity, they’d almost forgotten about the game. However, he could feel there was something more at play, and it would be a trial of Zara’s leadership capabilities —her style had often been solo. It was great for scouting mission and opening new doors in unknown parts of the game, but apparently the group quest required something different…

          #6623

          In reply to: Orbs of Madjourneys

          “I don’t know if it’s this place, but I never had so much trouble of keeping track of time…” Xavier mused.

          As soon as he’d came back to the Inn after his errand with the bird, he’d finally caught up with Yasmin and Zara. Both of them were in their rooms, and they wasted no time to get going. Zara had called Youssef who was still at the shop, so they could all meet outside for drinks.

          As soon as Youssef arrived, it was a huge rally cry of joy throughout the four of them.

          “Funny” Xavier said pointing at Youssef’s chest. “This one isn’t letting you go, despite all the huggin’ — the glitter speck on your bear, I mean…” The others were looking at him like he’d been alien or something. “The glitter? Am I the only one to see it? Oh forget it…”

          While the others were chatting about their day, Xavier was thinking about some of the bugs he had to fix in his program, as well as a flurry of ideas to improve the system. Coincidentally, Youssef had mentioned commissioning his help to do a robo-version of him to automatically answer his pesky and peppy boss. Well, he could probably do that, his friend didn’t seem too complex to model. As for doing his job… that was a stretch.

          The gales of laughters, occasional snorting and clinks of the pints brought him back to reality.

          While Zara was explaining all about the Carts race of the festival to Youssef, Yasmin leaned on conspiratorially:

          “Over there, — don’t look, be casual — yes, behind me,… have you noticed that lady? She seems bizarre and a tad familiar, no? You haven’t met her before, like in the game or something?”

          #6559

          In reply to: Orbs of Madjourneys

          Why do I always pick the cart with the wonky wheel, Zara thought, but she wasn’t going to go back and get another one and keep Sergio and Yasmin waiting outside. She zigzagged up and down the aisles until she came to the wine.  What was it the old dear back at the Inn was saying about the alcohol laws in Alice?  Well, surely that didn’t apply to tourists.  There were two men chatting in the middle of the aisle and Zara deftly skirted around them without the unpredictable cart crashing.  While she was perusing the wines hoping to find a nice Rioja, she couldn’t help but overhear the clear ringing tones of one of the men saying “True love never dies!” and a few other things which she later forgot, which she thought was quite an odd topic for two men to be discussing in the Piggly supermarket in the outback of all places.  The man with the poetic voice went on his way, leaving the other man with the little girl in the child seat of the cart ready to move on, but Zara’s cart was straddled across the aisle so she quickly moved it out of the way and continued scanning the wine selection.  A clear sweet voice rang out behind her. “Thank you.”  She turned, and her eyes met those of the girl (afterwards Zara could have sworn the child was 10 or 11, and surely too big to be sitting in the baby seat, but yet felt sure the child had indeed been sitting in the cart).  They exchanged a deep meaningful smile of magical proportions that defied explaining in mere words.  Later when Zara told Yasmin about it, she said it was “one of those moments, you know?” and Yasmin understood what she meant.  The child seemed somehow familiar, and there was that shimmery timeless oddness to the encounter which made Zara feel a bemused lightness.

          child in supermarket

           

          Zara was still gazing at the rows of wine bottles when Yasmin caught up with her. “What’s taking you so long, you haven’t even got anything in your cart yet!”

          Snapping her attention back, Zara asked Yasmin to help her choose the wine, asking her, “Do you ever feel like you can’t tell the difference between the game and real life?  Like sometimes a scene in real life isn’t quite real?”

          “I dunno about the game but real life seems strange enough. That woman outside with the BMW hire car that was in the loo before me, there was something familiar about her, something creepy.  And look what I found in the cubicle,”  Yasmin looked around quickly to make sure they were alone and pulled something out of her pocket.

          crucifix

           

          “Looks like the chain broke, is it gold? Might be worth something,” Zara was missing the point.

          “It’s a crucifix.”

          “If it’s gold it can be melted down and made into something else,” said Zara missing the point again.

          “It’s the same as the ones the nuns at the orphanage wear,” Yasmins whisper turned into a nervous snort.

          “I wonder who dropped it and what they were doing here.  That tart in the BMW didn’t look like a nun to me.”  Zara almost snorted too (was it contagious?) and then wondered why tart and nun sounded vaguely familiar and why yellow cabs had popped into her mind.  “Come on, we’ve kept Sergio waiting long enough already.”

          After all the deliberation over which wine to choose, they grabbed a half dozen bottles each without further ado and went to the checkout.

          #6551

          In reply to: Orbs of Madjourneys

          Xavier had woken up in the middle of the night that felt surprisingly alive bursting with a quiet symphony of sounds from nocturnal creatures and nearby nature, painted on a canvas of eerie spacious silence.

          It often took him a while to get accustomed to any new place, and it was not uncommon for him to have his mind racing in the middle of the night. Generally Brytta had a soothing presence and that often managed to nudge him back to sleep, otherwise, he would simply wake up until the train of thoughts had left the station.

          It was beginning of the afternoon in Berlin; Brytta would be in a middle of a shift, so he recorded a little message for her to find when she would get back to her phone. It was funny to think they’d met thanks to Yasmin and Zara, at the time the three girls were members of the same photography club, which was called ‘Focusgroupfocus’ or something similar…
          With that done, he’d turned around for something to do but there wasn’t much in the room to explore or to distract him sufficiently. Not even a book in the nightstand drawer. The decoration itself had a mesmerising nature, but after a while it didn’t help with the racing thoughts.

          He was tempted to check in the game — there was something satisfactory in finishing a quest that left his monkey brain satiated for a while, so he gave in and logged back in.

            :fleuron2:

          Completing the quest didn’t take him too long this time. The main difficulty initially was to find the portal from where his avatar had landed. It was a strange carousel of blue storks that span into different dimensions one could open with the proper incantation.

          As usual, stating the quirk was the key to the location, and the carousel portal propelled him right away to Midnight town, which was clearly a ghost town in more ways than one. Interestingly, he was chatting on the side with Glimmer, who’d run into new adventures of her own while continuing to ask him what was up, and as soon as he’d reached Midnight town, all communication channels suddenly went dark. He’d laughed to himself thinking how frustrated Glimmer would have been about that. But maybe the game took care of sending her AI-generated messages simulating his presence. Despite the disturbing thought of having an AI generated clone of himself, he almost hoped for it (he’d probably signed the consent for this without realising), so that he wouldn’t have to do a tedious recap about all what she’d missed.

          Once he arrived in the town, the adventure followed a predictable pattern. The clues were also rather simple to follow.

          The townspeople are all frozen in time, stuck in their daily routines and unable to move on. Your mission is to find the missing piece of continuity, a small hourglass that will set time back in motion and allow the townspeople to move forward.

          The clue to finding the hourglass lies within a discarded pocket watch that can be found in the mayor’s office. You must unscrew the back and retrieve a hidden key. The key will unlock a secret compartment in the town clock tower, where the hourglass is kept.

          Be careful as you search for the hourglass, as the town is not as abandoned as it seems. Spectral figures roam the streets, and strange whispers can be heard in the wind. You may also encounter a mysterious old man who seems to know more about the town’s secrets than he lets on.

          Evading the ghosts and spectres wasn’t too difficult once you got the hang of it. The old man however had been quite an elusive figure to find, but he was clearly the highlight of the whole adventure; he had been hiding in plain sight since the beginning of the adventure. One of the blue storks in the town that he’d thought had come with him through the portal was in actuality not a bird at all.

          While he was focused on finishing the quest, the interaction with the hermit didn’t seem very helpful. Was he really from the game construct? When it was time to complete the quest and turn the hourglass to set the town back in motion, and resume continuity, some of his words came back to Xavier.

          “The town isn’t what it seems. Recognise this precious moment where everything is still and you can realise it for the illusion that it is, a projection of your busy mind. When motion resumes, you will need to keep your mind quiet. The prize in the quest is not the completion of it, but the realisation you can stop the agitation at any moment, and return to what truly matters.”

          The hermit had turned to him with clear dark eyes and asked “do you know what you are seeking in these adventures? do you know what truly matters to you?”

            :fleuron2:

          When he came out of the game, his quest completed, Xavier felt the words resonate ominously.

          A buzz of the phone snapped him out of it.

          It was a message from Zara. Apparently she’d found her way back to modernity.

          [4:57] “Going to pick up Yasmin at the airport. You better sleep away the jetlag you lazy slugs, we have poultry damn plenty planned ahead – cackling bugger cooking lessons not looking forward to, but can be fun. Talk to you later. Z”

          He had the impulse to go with her, but the lack of sleep was hitting back at him now, and he thought he’d better catch some so he could manage to realign with the timezone.

          “The old man was right… that sounds like a lot of agitation coming our way…”

          #6543

          In reply to: Orbs of Madjourneys

          The road was stretching endlessly and monotonously, a straight line disappearing into a nothingness of dry landscapes that sounded a bit depressing. At regular speed, the car barely seemed to progress, and Youssef was rather serious at the wheel. Soon Xavier was left depleted of jokes to tell (even the bad ones which tended to come off easily with sleep deprivation), so he tried to catch some of the patchy network signal to reconnect where he’d left off on the game. There wasn’t much network, and all he could download in the car, even with the game in lo-fi mode, was a measly text message with the starter for his new challenge.

          Your quest takes place in the ghost town of Midnight, where time seems to have stood still. The townspeople are all frozen in time, stuck in their daily routines and unable to move on. Your mission is to find the missing piece of continuity, a small hourglass that will set time back in motion and allow the townspeople to move forward.

          A ghost town seemed apt indeed.

          The welcome signs at the entrance of the town for their hostel were rather uninviting, but a festive banner mentioning the local “Lager and Carts festival” caught his attention. He counted the days. It would be next week-end; there was a good chance they’d still be there, the four of them. At least some action to look forward to!

          When he and Youssef arrived at the Inn after that rather uneventful and terribly long drive, all they wanted was to get a shower and some sleep. Zara wasn’t back yet from her trip, but they both figured out they’d meet at breakfast in the morning.

          The old lady with the sharp tongue had shown them their rooms rather unceremoniously; she was too busy ranting about an idle person not taking their *one job* seriously to care about details. Xavier almost asked for a wifi, but then thought better and decided to hold his question until he found someone to ask who was born in his century.
          Xavier took room 7, and Youssef room 5.

          The rooms were quite nicely decorated. It reminded him of something he’d read in the plane from a commentary of the Bardo Thodöl:

          In Tibetan the word for body is , which means “something you leave behind,” like baggage. Each time we say “lü,” it reminds us that we are only travelers, taking temporary refuge in this life and this body. So in Tibet people did not distract themselves by spending all their time trying to make their external circumstances more comfortable. They were satisfied if they had enough to eat, clothes on their backs, and a roof over their heads. Going on as we do, obsessively trying to improve our conditions, can become an end in itself and a pointless distraction. Would anyone in their right mind think of fastidiously redecorating their hotel room every time they booked into one? 

          The Tibetan Book of Living and Dying

          At least, he wasn’t feeling compelled to redecorate this room; it was perfect. The shared sanitaries, the boiler and the piping were another story, but that was probably coming from the same era as the owner, nice as she was.

          After having unpacked his few belongings, and taken a hot shower, he laid on the bed looking at the ceiling, which was blank and made a nice contrast to the ornate walls full of colorful dots.

          Luckily, searching through the signals available, he could see there was mostly one, and without any password. With the next neighbour a few miles away, no wonder nobody bothered with security.

          He connected to AL to check a few parameters — there seemed to be some degenerescence in the programme output that wasn’t satisfactory, and he was wondering if some self-repair or training reinforcement mechanisms were missing. At the moment, nothing too pressing, but he would keep an eye on them.

          Still no words from Yasmin he thought drifting to sleep… I half expected her to be there already…

          #6540

          In reply to: Prompts of Madjourneys

          ÉricÉric
          Keymaster

            Update & clarifications on the characters:

            Looking at the avatars that Zara, Youssef, Xavier and Yasmin are using in VR.

            Full name or real name in RL :: name in VR (@nickhandle) description of avatar.

            • Zara Patara-Smythe :: Zara (@zaraloon) is a 25-year-old woman of mixed heritage, her mother is Indian and her father is British. She has long, dark hair that she keeps in a sleek ponytail, dark brown eyes and a sharp jawline. She stands at 5’6″ and has a toned and athletic build. She usually wears practical clothing that allows her to move around easily, such as cargo pants and a tank top.
            • Xavier Olafsson :: Xavier (@xavimunk) is a 27-year-old man of Norwegian and Danish descent. He has blonde hair that he keeps in a messy style, blue eyes, and a charming smile. He stands at 6’1″ and has a lean build. He is always seen wearing a colorful and bold clothing, such as a Hawaiian shirt and shorts.
            • Yasmin Ahmed :: Yasmin (@yasminowl) is a 23-year-old woman of Egyptian descent. She has long, black hair that she keeps in a tight braid, dark brown eyes and a round face. She stands at 5’4″ and has a petite build. She usually wears conservative clothing, such as long skirts and blouses.
            • Youssef Ali :: Youssef (@youssefbear) is a 26-year-old man of half Yemeni, half Norwegian descent. He has short, curly black hair, dark brown eyes and a square jawline. He stands at 6’2″ and has a muscular build. He usually wears comfortable clothing such as a t-shirt and jeans, and always has a backpack on his shoulder.

            Full descriptions for real-life Zara, Yasmin, Youssef, Xavier:

            Real Life Zara Patara-Smythe :: Zara is a 57-year-old woman who is an adventurous traveler and a passionate hobbyist. She has a full mane of gorgeous auburn hair that she keeps in a sleek ponytail, sparkling green eyes, and a warm smile that puts others at ease. She is of mixed heritage, her mother was Indian and her father was British. She is well-educated and well-off, either through an inheritance or a supportive and understanding husband. Zara is a lover of art, music, and history, and spends much of her time indulging in her passions. She is always eager to explore new places and meet new people, and her adventurous spirit often leads her to travel off the beaten path.

            Real Life Yasmin Ahmed :: Yasmin is a 32-year-old woman who is kind, nurturing, and always puts others first. She has long, black hair that she keeps in a tight braid, almond-shaped brown eyes, and a warm smile that lights up a room. Born in Egypt, she grew up in a close-knit family and values the importance of community. She is a talented actress, who has kept her career a secret from those closest to her, in order to pursue a more fulfilling life working with children. Yasmin currently volunteers at an orphanage in Fiji, where she devotes herself to helping children in need.

            Real Life Youssef Ali :: Youssef is a 34-year-old man who is driven, confident, and always up for a challenge. He has short, curly black hair, dark brown eyes, and a square jawline that gives him a strong and determined look. Born to a Yemeni father and a Norwegian mother, he has a unique blend of cultures that has shaped his world view. Youssef is a talented blogger, who has traveled the world in search of new and interesting stories to share with his audience. He is always on the go, with a backpack on his shoulder, ready for his next adventure.

            Real Life Xavier Olafsson :: Xavier is a 36-year-old man who is bright, cheerful, and always looking for the positive in every situation. He has blonde hair that he keeps in a messy style, blue eyes, and a charming smile that never fails to win people over. Born to Norwegian and Danish parents, he has a love for the sea and an appreciation for the finer things in life. Xavier is an AI developer, who is working on a project he calls AL. He is always eager to share his ideas with others and is constantly seeking new and exciting opportunities.

            #6511
            ÉricÉric
            Keymaster

              Potential Plot Arch

              The uncovered box in the garden of Bob & Clara is a Time Capsule which was actually buried in the future, but mistakenly sent to the past. It has symbols etched on it, that activate some nano-technology.
              Due to its contact with it, Bob starts recovering his memories, while retaining the hallucinations of his dead wife Jane, which actually become more credible and intense.

              Will Tarkin is actually a time traveler from the future, who came to live a simple life in the past, selling stone gargoyles at the local supermarket and rediscovering the ways of his ancestors.

              With the box being found and opened at the wrong time, it creates unwanted attention from the Time Dragglers who need to intervene to prevent alterations of the timeline.
              Contents of the box are in part encoded books of stories from local families and would have revealed important things about the past, Jane’s death, and Clara’s future.

              With Bob recovering his memories, it’s revealed Jane and Bob were actually also refugees from the future, but had aged naturally in the past, which is why Will seemed to recognize Bob. Bob was living in hiding from the Time Police, but with the box discovery, it changes everything. The box being opened at the wrong time disrupts the natural flow of events and starts causing unexpected consequences. This creates a complex web of relationships and events that must be untangled and understood in order to move forward.

              With his recovering of mental capacities, Bob partners with Will in order to restore the natural flow of time, even if it means his mental health will deteriorate again, which he is happy to do while continuing to live the rest of his life span with his daughter.

              Potential developments

              Clara Meets the Mysterious Will

              Nora finally reaches the little village where Clara and Bob live and is greeted by a man named Will
              Will seems to know Bob from somewhere
              Clara starts to feel suspicious of Will’s intentions and begins to investigate

              The Power of Memories

              Bob starts to have flashbacks of his past and begins to remember the connection between him, Will, and the mysterious time capsule
              Bob realizes that Jane, his wife, had been keeping something from him and that the time capsule holds the key to unlocking the truth
              Jane appears to Bob and urges him to tell Clara about their past and the significance of the time capsule

              The Truth Behind the Capsule

              Nora, Clara, and Bob finally find the answers they’ve been searching for by opening the time capsule
              The contents of the capsule reveal a shocking truth about Jane’s past and the reason behind her death
              They learn that Jane was part of a secret society that protected ancient knowledge and artifacts and that the time capsule was meant to be opened at a specific time
              The group realizes that they were meant to find the capsule and continue Jane’s work in protecting the knowledge and artifacts

              The Ties Between Living and Dead

              Bob comes to terms with Jane’s death and the role she played in their lives
              Clara and Bob grow closer as they work together to continue Jane’s work and preserve the knowledge and artifacts
              The group encounters obstacles but with the help of the spirits of the past, they are able to overcome them and succeed in their mission

              A Realization of the Past and Present

              Clara, Bob, and Nora come to realize the power of memories and how they shape our present and future
              They also learn that things never truly remain buried and that the past always finds a way to resurface
              The group successfully preserves the knowledge and artifacts, ensuring that they will be passed down for generations to come
              The story ends with Clara, Bob, and Nora sitting by the fire, reflecting on their journey and the lessons they’ve learned.

              ÉricÉric
              Keymaster

                A background on the excavated mysteries from Twists and One Return From the Time Capsule.

                BACKGROUND CONTENT: Focus is on key protagonists:

                • Clara (a woman in her late 40s, taking care of her father, living the two of them with her Malinois dog VanGogh),
                • her father Bob (a widowed man with early stage dementia, who can see and speak to his dead wife Jane)
                • and Nora (nicknamed Alienor, Clara’s friend, a local thrill-seeking artist and amateur archaeologist)

                in an story of discovery around a mystery of a box (which is a Time Capsule found by Clara’s dog VanGogh) during a time and place of travel restrictions (and possibly time-travel restrictions).

                Tone of story is curious and engrossed with a mystery of the ages, some supernatural grounded in plausibility, looking for connecting dots with the past sometimes long gone, and a present that slips away in our memories.

                An encounter with the mysterious Will (possibly Will Tarkin), who seems nice and seductive yet acts unscrupulously and manipulative (seemingly recognising Bob from somewhere), could be the key to a big reveal, and possible links to Jane’s pasts. All while struggling to keep away the nosy neighbour.
                The conclusion will bring some realisations about the power of memories, the ties between living and dead, and how things never remain buried for long.

                #6506

                In reply to: Orbs of Madjourneys

                Bert dropped Zara off after breakfast at the start of the Yeperenye trail.  He suggested that she phone him when she wanted him to pick her up, and asked if she was sure she had enough water and reminded her, not for the first time, not to wander off the trail.   Of course not, she replied blithely, as if she’d never wandered off before.

                “It’s a beautiful gorge, you’ll like it,” he called through the open window, “You’ll need the bug spray when you get to the water holes.”  Zara smiled and waved as the car roared off in a cloud of dust.

                On the short drive to the start of the trail, Bert had told her that the trail was named after the Yeperenye dreamtime, also known as ‘Caterpillar Dreaming’  and that it was a significant dreamtime story in Aboriginal mythology. Be sure to look at the aboriginal rock art, he’d said.   He mentioned several varieties of birds but Zara quickly forgot the names of them.

                It felt good to be outside, completely alone in the vast landscape with the bone warming sun. To her surprise, she hadn’t seen the parrot again after the encounter at the bedroom window, although she had heard a squalky laugh coming from a room upstairs as she passed the staircase on her way to the dining room.

                But it was nice to be on her own. She walked slowly, appreciating the silence and the scenery. Acacia and eucalyptus trees were dotted about and long grasses whispered in the occasional gentle breezes.  Birds twittered and screeched and she heard a few rustlings in the undergrowth from time to time as she strolled along.

                After a while the rocky outcrops towered above her on each side of the path and the gorge narrowed, the trail winding through stands of trees and open grassland. Zara was glad of the shade as the sun rose higher.

                Zara water hole

                 

                The first water hole she came to took Zara by surprise. She expected it to be pretty and scenic, like the photos she’d seen, but the spectacular beauty of the setting and shimmering light somehow seemed timeless and otherwordly.  It was a moment or two before she realized she wasn’t alone.

                It was time to stop for a drink and the sandwich that one of the twins had made for her, and this was the perfect spot, but she wondered if the man would find it intrusive of her to plonk herself down and picnic at the same place as him.  Had he come here for the solitude and would he resent her appearance?

                It is a public trail, she reminded herself not to be silly, but still, she felt uneasy.  The man hadn’t even glanced up as far as Zara could tell. Had he noticed her?

                She found a smooth rock to sit on under a tree and unwrapped her lunch, glancing up from time to time ready to give a cheery wave and shout hi, if he looked up from what he was doing.  But he didn’t look up, and what exactly was he doing? It was hard to say, he was pacing around on the opposite side of the pool, looking intently at the ground.

                When Zara finished her drink, she went behind a bush for a pee, making sure she would not be seen if the man glanced up. When she emerged, the man was gone.  Zara walked slowly around the water hole, taking photos, and keeping an eye out for the man, but he was nowhere to be seen.  When she reached the place where he’d been pacing looking at the ground, she paused and retraced his steps.  Something small and shiny glinted in the sun catching her eye. It was a compass, a gold compass, and quite an unusual one.

                Zara didn’t know what to do, had the man been looking for it?  Should she return it to him?  But who was he and where did he go?  She decided there was no point in leaving it here, so she put it in her pocket. Perhaps she could ask at the inn if there was a lost and found place or something.

                Refreshed from the break, Zara continued her walk. She took the compass out and looked at it, wondering not for the first time how on earth anyone used one to find their way.  She fiddled with it, and the needle kept pointing in the same direction.   What good is it knowing which way north is, if you don’t know where you are anyway? she wondered.

                With a squalk and a beating of wings, Pretty Girl appeared, seemingly out of nowhere.  “It’s not that kind of compass. You’re supposed to follow the pointer.”

                “Am I?  But it’s pointing off the trail, and Bert said don’t go off the trail.”

                “That’s because Bert doesn’t want you to find it,” replied the parrot.

                Intrigued, Zara set off in the direction the compass was pointing towards.

                #6505
                prUneprUne
                Participant

                  I told Devan in no ambiguous terms to solve his own funny riddle.

                  I did try to make an effort, but that seemed a rather desperate way to catch our attention after not really caring about the family for so long.
                  It was good to see him though.

                  With all the activity around the coming guests at the Inn, it’s easy getting lost in the wind of activities, like the motes of dust hiding in Dido’s hair.
                  The twins did a good effort though, with all the decorating and stuff. I was sincerely impressed. Been a long time since I’ve been impressed by them. Seems they may actually grow up fine. Who would have known really.

                  Hormonal growth be damned, I’m feeling all sort of contradictory feelings about this.

                  Like, what about hearing about our funny father after all this time.

                  And Devan, who’d shut us all off, now back for a little make-over time… Or something else maybe. He doesn’t seem to realize the emotional landscape and baggage here. He’s a nice brother though.

                  It’s horrible. So much contradiction – I feel some rage on the surface, lots of… and underneath so much caring it’s painful.

                  So what happened to our father? Still alive? Quite possibly. I’ve had my suspicious when this strange guy posed as a friend to the twins on the social network some years back.
                  I was young when he left without a note; hadn’t started to write my journals yet, so my memories of him are very little. But I remember the chaos left after him; Mater wasn’t really the same after. I think she’s burned all pictures of him, and somehow pretends they never existed.
                  Idle plays it as if she doesn’t care, but I’m sure she does. She doesn’t want to let it be known, but she probably doesn’t want to hurt Mater more with this.

                  God, what a family drama. Why would Devan want to unearth all of this now, at a moment we were all quiet and settled like a decent respectable family.

                  It was maybe just keeping up with appearances, and the veneer was thin to start with.

                  That’s in the middle of all this angst mixed with puberty that it hit me.

                  Acrostic. Or ἀκροστιχίς in Greek. First verse, or first letter.

                  My dad was a writer, so he liked word riddles. And the little sign was a pointer.

                  >A mine, a tile, dust piled high,
                  Together they rest, yet always outside.
                  One misstep, and you’ll surely fall,
                  Into the depths, where danger lies all.

                  ATOI didn’t seem to make much sense, but I remembered how small “l” sometimes looked like a capital “I”.
                  Atoll was the clue I’m sure of it. Where to disappear if not to islands.
                  The letters at the end of the verses are spelling HELL. So it’s opposite.

                  Basically, Atoll Paradise.

                  A little Gugu search with AI, and that was it. That was our father here, with a number to call.

                  Atoll Paradise
                  Boat rentals – Island tours
                  Copywriter, biographer
                  Call FRED @ (+679) 215-7644

                  Now it’ll be fair if Devan is calling me crazy. We’ll have to call and check before saying anything to Idle or even Mater for now.

                  #6493

                  In reply to: Orbs of Madjourneys

                  “Welcome to the Flying Fish, do come in and I’ll show you to your room. Good flight, I hope? I bet you’d like a drink. Bert? Would you mind?”

                  Zara smiled and nodded to the charming old lady, standing up to follow Mater inside. “Gin and tonic, please, Bert.”

                  “They have dry laws in Alice you know,” Mater paused in the entrance hall.  “Not allowed to drink on this day or that day, I don’t know what the world’s coming to.”  After a moments consideration she added,  “Our Idle could do with moving to Alice,” forgetting herself for a moment.

                  “The twins have just decorated all the bedrooms, quite amazing I must say, they did a wonderful job. I hope you can sleep alright, I’m not sure I’d be able to.   They call it dreamtime but it’d keep me awake all night I reckon. If you’d like to change rooms, room 8 hasn’t been decorated. But let us know, because it hasn’t been cleaned, either.”

                  Zara found Mater’s candid manner endearing.

                  “I’ll show you the four rooms for you and your friends, and you can choose which one you’d like.  Here we are,” Mater opened the door to room 7.

                  room 7 FFI

                  “Wow!” Zara hadn’t been expecting something so, well, dimensional looking.  “Can I see the other rooms?”

                  Mater opened the door to room 3, on the opposite side of the corridor.

                  room 3, FFI

                  and room 5

                  room 5, FFI

                  and finally room 2:

                  room 2, FFI

                   

                  “I’d like room 3, please,” Zara told Mater.  “What fabulous rooms!”

                  “Well, let me know how you get on, dear. Now then, is that Idle back? She popped out to pick some fresh wild herbs for the supper. Now, come and relax on the vernadah and watch the sun go down, Bert’s bringing your drink.  I’ll go and see what Idle’s up to in the kitchen.”

                  #6492

                  In reply to: Orbs of Madjourneys

                  With a determined glint in his eye, Xavier set his sights on the slot machines. He scanned the rows of blinking lights and flashing screens until one caught his attention. He approached the machine and inserted a coin, feeling a rush of excitement as he pulled the lever.

                  With a satisfying whir, the reels began to spin, and before he knew it, the golden banana appeared on the screen, lining up perfectly. The machine erupted in flashing lights and loud noises, and a ticket spilled out onto the floor.

                  🎰 · 💰
                  🍌🍌🍌

                  Xavier picked it up, reading aloud the inscriptions on the ticket, “Congratulations on completing your quest. You may enjoy your trip until the next stage of your journey. Look for the cook on the pirate boat, she will give you directions to regroup with your friends. And don’t forget to confirm your bookings.”

                  Glimmer let out a whoop of trepidation, “Let’s go find that cook, Xav! I can’t wait to see what’s next in store for us!”

                  But Xavier, feeling a bit worn out, replied with a smile, “Hold on a minute, love. All I need at the moment is just some R&R after all that brouhaha.”

                  Glimmer nodded in understanding and they both made their way to the deck, taking in the fresh air and the breathtaking scenery as the boat sailed towards its next destination.

                  As the boat continued its journey, sailing and gliding on the river in the air filled with moist, they could start to see across the mist opening like a heavy curtain a colourful floating market in the distance, and the sounds of haggling and laughter filled the air.

                  They couldn’t wait to explore and see what treasures and surprises awaited them. The journey was far from over, but for now, they were content to simply enjoy the ride.

                  :fleuron2:

                  Xavier closed his laptop while his friends were still sending messages on the chatroom. He’d had long days of work before leaving to take his flights to Australia, during which he hoped he could rest enough during the flights.

                  Most of the flights he’d checked had a minimum of 3 layovers, and a unbelievably long durations (not to count the astronomic amount of carbon emissions). Against all common sense, he’d taken one of the longest flight duration. It was 57h, but only 3 layovers. From Berlin, to Stockholm, then Dubai and Sydney. He could probably catch up with Youssef there as apparently he sent a message before boarding. They could go to Alice Spring and the Frying Mush Inn together. He’d try to find the reviews, but they were only listed on boutiquehotelsdownunder.com and didn’t have the rave reviews of the prestigious Kookynie Grand Hotel franchise. God knows what Zara had in mind while booking this place, it’d better be good. Reminded him of the time they all went to that improbably ghastly hotel in Spain (at the time Yasmin was still volunteering in a mission and couldn’t join) for a seminar with other game loonies and cosplayers. Those were the early days of the game, and the technology frankly left a lot to be desired at the time. They’d ended up eating raspberry jam with disposable toothbrushes, and get drunk on laughter.

                  When Brytta had seen the time it took to go there, she’d reconsidered coming. She couldn’t afford taking that much time off, and spending the equivalent of 4 full days of her hard-won vacation as a nurse into a plane simply for the round-trip —there was simply no way.
                  Xavier had proposed to shorten his stay, but she’d laughed and said, “you go there, I’ll enjoy some girl time with my friends, and I’ll work on my painting” —it was more convenient when he was gone for business trips, she would be able to put all the materials out, and not care to keep the apartment neat and tidy.

                  The backpack was ready with the essentials; Xavier liked to travel light.

                  #6487
                  DevanDevan
                  Participant

                    I’ve always felt like the odd one out in my family. Growing up at the Flying Fish Inn, I’ve always felt like I was on the outside looking in. My mother left when I was young, and my father disappeared not long after. I’ve always felt like I was the only one who didn’t fit in with the craziness of my family.

                    I’ve always tried to keep my distance with the others. I didn’t want to get too involved, take sides about petty things, like growing weed in the backyard, making psychedelic termite honey, or trying to influence the twins to buy proper clothes. But truth is, you can’t get too far away. Town’s too small. Family always get back to you, and manage to get you involved in their shit, one way or another, even if you don’t say anything. That’s how it works. They don’t need my participation to use me as an argument.

                    So I stopped paying attention, almost stopped caring. I lived my life working at the gas station, and drinking beers with my buddies Joe and Jasper, living in a semi-comatose state. I learned that word today when I came bringing little honey buns to mater. I know she secretly likes them, even if she pretend she doesn’t in front of Idle. But I can see the breadcrumbs on her cardigan when I come say hi at the end of the day. This morning, Idle was rocking in her favourite chair on the porch, looking at the clouds behind her mirrored sunglasses. Prune was talking to her, I saw she was angry because of the contraction of the muscles of her jaw and her eyes were darker than usual. She was saying to Idle that she was always in a semi-comatose state and doing nothing useful for the Inn when we had a bunch of tourists arriving. And something about the twins redecorating the rooms without proper design knowledge. Idle did what she usually does. She ignored the comment and kept on looking at the clouds. I’m not even sure she heard or understood that word that Prune said. Semi-comatose. It sounds like glucose. That’s how I’m spending my life between the Inn, the gas station and my buddies.

                    But things changed today when I got back to my apartment for lunch. You can call it a hunch or a coincidence. But as we talked with Joe about that time when my dad left, making me think we were doing hide and seek, and he left me a note saying he would be back someday. I don’t know why I felt the need to go search that note afterwards. So I went back to the apartment and opened the mailbox. Among the bills and ads, I found a postcard with a few words written on the image and nothing except my address on the back. I knew it was from my dad.

                    It was not signed or anything, but still I was sure it was his handwriting. I would recognise it anywhere. I went and took the shoebox I keep hidden on top of the kitchen closet, because I saw people do that in movies. That’s not very original, I know, but I’m not too bright either. I opened the box and took the note my dad left me when he disappeared.

                    I put the card on the desk near the note. The handwritings matched. I felt so excited, and confused.

                    A few words at the bottom of the card said : “Memories from the coldest place on Earth…”

                    Why would dad go to such a place to send me a postcard after all those years ? Just to say that.

                    That’s when I recalled what Prune had told me once as we were watching a detective movie : “Read everything with care and always double check your information.”

                    On the back, it said that the image was from a scientific station in Antartica, but the stamp indicated it had been posted from a floating post office in the North Pole. I turned the card and looked at the text again. Above the station, a few words were written that sounded like a riddle.

                    > A mine, a tile, dust piled high,
                    Together they rest, yet always outside.
                    One misstep, and you’ll surely fall,
                    Into the depths, where danger lies all.

                    It sure sounds like a warning. But I’m not too good with riddles. No need to worry Mater about that, in case of false hope and all that. Idle ? Don’t even think about it. She won’t believe me when I say it’s from dad. She never does believe me. And she’ll keep playing with the words trying to find her answer in the shape of smoke. The twins, they are a riddle on their own.

                    No. It’s Prune’s help I need.

                    #6485

                    In reply to: Orbs of Madjourneys

                    The two figures disappeared from view and Zara continued towards the light. An alcove to her right revealed a grotesque frog like creature with a pile of bones and gruesome looking objects. Zara hurried past.

                    Osnas 1

                     

                    Bugger, I bet that was Osnas, Zara realized. But she wasn’t going to go back now.  It seemed there was only one way to go, towards the light.   Although in real life she was sitting on a brightly lit aeroplane with the stewards bustling about with the drinks and snacks cart, she could feel the chill of the tunnels and the uneasy thrill of secrets and danger.

                    “Tea? Coffee? Soft drink?” smiled the hostess with the blue uniform, leaning over her cart towards Zara.

                    “Coffee please,” she replied, glancing up with a smile, and then her smile froze as she noticed the frog like features of the woman.  “And a packet of secret tiles please,” she added with a giggle.

                    “Sorry, did you say nuts?”

                    “Yeah, nuts.  Thank you, peanuts will be fine, cheers.”

                    Sipping coffee in between handfulls of peanuts, Zara returned to the game.

                    As Zara continued along the tunnels following the light, she noticed the drawings on the floor. She stopped to take a photo, as the two figures continued ahead of her.

                    I don’t know how I’m supposed to work out what any of this means, though. Just keep going I guess. Zara wished that Pretty Girl was with her. This was the first time she’d played without her.

                    Zara tunnels floor drawings

                     

                    The walls and floors had many drawings, symbols and diagrams, and Zara stopped to take photos of all of them as she slowly made her way along the tunnel.  

                    Zara meanwhile make screenshots of them all as well.   The frisson of fear had given way to curiosity, now that the tunnel was more brightly lit, and there were intriguing things to notice.  She was no closer to working out what they meant, but she was enjoying it now and happy to just explore.

                    But who had etched all these pictures into the rock? You’d expect to see cave paintings in a cave, but in an old mine?  How old was the mine? she wondered. The game had been scanty with any kind of factual information about the mine, and it could have been a bronze age mine, a Roman mine, or just a gold rush mine from not so very long ago.  She assumed it wasn’t a coal mine, which she deduced from the absence of any coal, and mentally heard her friend Yasmin snort with laughter at her train of thought.  She reminded herself that it was just a game and not an archaeology dig, after all, and to just keep exploring.  And that Yasmin wasn’t reading her mind and snorting at her thoughts.

                    #6484

                    In reply to: Orbs of Madjourneys

                    Will be at Flying Fish this evening, Hope to see you all soon!  :yahoo_smug: :yahoo_smug:    Congrats, Xavier!  :yahoo_thumbsup: :yahoo_thumbsup:

                    Zara sent a message to Yasmin, Youssef and Xavier just before boarding the plane. Thankfully the plane wasn’t full and the seats next to her were unoccupied.  She had a couple of hours to play the game before landing at Alice Springs.

                    Zara had found the tile in the entry level and had further instructions for the next stage of the game:

                    Zara had come across a strange and ancient looking mine. It was clear that it had been abandoned for many years, but there were still signs of activity. The entrance was blocked by a large pile of rocks, but she could see a faint light coming from within. She knew that she had to find a way in.

                    “Looks like I have to find another tile with a sort of map on it, Pretty Girl,” Zara spoke out loud, forgetting for a moment that the parrot wasn’t with her. She glanced up, hoping none of the other passengers had heard her.  Really she would have to change that birds name!

                    If you encounter Osnas anywhere in the game, he may have what you seek in his vendors cart, or one of his many masks might be a clue. 

                    A man with a mask and a vendors cart in an old mine, alrighty then, let’s have a look at this mine. Shame we’re not still in that old town.  Zara remembered not to say that out loud.

                     

                    Zara approached the abandoned mine cautiously.  There were rocks strewn about the entrance, and a faint light inside.

                    Zaras mine entrance

                    This looks a bit ominous, thought Zara, and not half as inviting as that old city.  She’d had a lifelong curiosity about underground tunnels and caves, and yet felt uneasily claustrophobic inside one.  She reminded herself that it was just a game, that she could break the rules, and that she could simply turn it off at any time.  She carried on.

                    Zara stopped to look at the large green tile lying at her feet in the tunnel entrance. It was too big to carry with her so she took a photo of it for future reference.  At first glance it looked more like a maze or a labyrinth than a map.  The tunnel ahead was dark and she walked slowly, close to the wall.  

                    Oh no don’t walk next to the wall! Zara recalled going down some abandoned mines with a group of friends when she was a teenager. There was water in the middle of the tunnel so she had been walking at the edge to keep her feet dry, as she followed her friend in front who had the torch.  Luckily he glanced over his shoulder, and advised her to walk in the middle. “Look” he said after a few more steps, shining his torch to the left.  A bottomless dark cavern fell away from the tunnel, which she would surely have fallen into.

                     

                    Zara tile mine entrance

                    Zara moved into the middle of the tunnel and walked steadily into the darkness. Before long a side tunnel appeared with a faintly glowing ghostly light. 

                    It looked eerie, but Zara felt obliged to follow it, as it was pitch black in every other direction. She wasn’t even sure if she could find her way out again, and she’d barely started.

                    The ghostly light was coming from yet another side tunnel.  There were strange markings on the floor that resembled the tile at the mine entrance.  Zara saw two figures up ahead, heading towards the light. 

                    Zara mine tunnels

                    #6482

                    In reply to: Orbs of Madjourneys

                    With the flurry of activities going around, in life and virtually, Xavier had trouble keeping track.

                    His sanity demanded some clarity of intention and some focus. Too many threads were open, and of all things, he didn’t like loose ends.
                    Somehow that silly notion of the Golden Banana quest did pose him a nagging reminder of something incomplete he was eager to get a resolution to. That, or he was unconsciously getting annoyed at seeing his 3 friends making strides in their adventures. The pirate quest was fun enough, but he’d rather enjoy it without having to check everything against being a possible clue.

                    There were no rules against cheating. The thought struck him. Maybe that was it. The simplicity of it!

                    Since they made the rules, they could make them, break them, amend or bend them.

                    He looked up on the internet for an image he could feed AL, and *bam* it was there! In all its glory, a gorgeous Golden Banana on a purple cushion, in a pirate chest. The reward for an online game… That was eerie!

                    He’d had a sneaking suspicion the game was not just about virtual any longer. Synchronistic happenings like that were more than just random.

                    He logged into the game only to discover a simple message.

                    “Congratulations on completing your quest. You may enjoy your trip until the next stage of your journey.
                    Look for the cook on the pirate boat, she will give you directions to regroup with your friends.
                    And don’t forget to confirm your bookings.”

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