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  • #629

    A marmoset jumped from a bush in front of Akita and Kay. Oh, that’s only a monkey! said Akita. But suddenly the werewolf growled and started to chase the marmoset, which had just disappeared into the mangrove. Kay! Come back! Leave that thing alone! … Finding himself talking to the trees, Akita shrugged, wondering why the dog spirit who never chased anything before had become suddenly drawn to a minuscule monkey. He would sure come back, but that was odd…

    A large magpie jumped before Number Four (who went also by the nickname of Niv’, as N°IV was the name written on the cell). Oh, that’s only a bird… muttered the drowsing mummy, who started to jump at every abrupt sound cropping up inside the thick vegetation of the island… But soon, another magpie appeared from the sky and landed next to the first. And then another, until Four was surrounded by a crowd of big magpies looking oddly calm. Can’t fall asleep now… Can’t…

    :fleuron:

    #624

    Instantly Elizabeth regretted her spikey, voodish behaviour and scrambled to retrieve the telepooh. Her mother was Vood by nature, a particularly dysfunctional personality type, and Elizabeth had struggled all her life to avoid similar behavioural patterns. Her friends, and certainly her ex-husbands, would say perhaps with only partial success.

    Apologies Bronkel, I was engrossed in my writing. How can I help you?

    Bronkel appeared to be covered in bandages from what she could see of his upper torso, giving him the appearance of a rather odd mummy like creature. He was constantly searching for new beauty treatments to extend his youthful goodlooks, however at 167 years more and more desperate measures were being called for.

    Elizabeth! Thank God, Where in Flork’s name have you been? he shouted at her. His pudgy, prouty little face was scrunched in peevish vexation. I can’t talk for long, I am on the Island for a month and the connection is flork. Where in the name of Fock is the story you promised me?

    She could not find the words to reply to Bronkel. I wonder if I am mindblown? she mused. She had read of this horrible phenomenon, and seen the sad pictures of those thus afflicted. Poor wandering creatures, strange erratic behaviour, always travelling, always seeking. But for what? Hell on Dearth indeed. She shuddered.

    It is getting urgent you know, spluttered Bronkel. Every day I am reading of new treatment centers opening for those undergoing crisis due to the prolonged absence of the Fickle Four in their lives.

    She sighed, Pull yourself together Elizabeth, her bloodshot and tired eyes were drawn to the planetary horrorscope on the monthly calendar. Todays “Words of Comfort for the Descending” quotation was from the famous philosopher Lemone. She particularly loved Lemone’s ideas. Many considered him a nutter, a few thought he was a genius ahead of his time. For herself, she did not really know, only that his profoundly beautiful words offered a kind of solace or balm to her tortured soul at times such as this :

    Sometimes it takes a single sniggly thorny path to go through to reach Elysian avenues much more efficiently ~ Lemone

    Absolutely fantastic Bronkel, I think this is going to be the best novel yet! My God what an effort it took to say that, but for some reason Bronkel appeared to believe her and began to calm. Thank you Lemone, I could kiss you! she breathed an inward sigh of relief.

    Poke its eyes out! screeched Robert X exuberantly.

    A sniggly thorny path indeed, she thought, hanging up on Bronkel. She had fun using him and his island getaway for inspiration in her last novel. Fun, what happened to the fun? Is this what descended beings do, sit around in a dank, dusty office writing trashy novels?

    She began nervously smoothing out pieces of paper and tried to decipher the scribbled notes; …big soup party …..pointy teeth like cannibals…..tribal wedding ….

    Elizabeth put her head in her hands and groaned in abject despair. Twelve of the twenty mongoats fainted at the fearful sound.

    #619

    Home, at last… Bernie Eleonara Mynd, Viscountess of Shropshire sighed, dropping her hairy salmon coloured hermine fur coat to the butler.
    Now, leave me alone Vigor, I don’t want to be disturbed.
    Madam, Vigor bowed deferentially

    A smoking teapot of fine herb tea was prepared on the glass coffee table just near a black silk pouch. With a greedy look on her face, she untied voraciously the pouch to reveal the crystal skull she had just acquired.
    After a few seconds of beholding the priceless possession, she lifted the teapot lid with a stiff face which eventually smiled blissfully at the smell of the fine Earl Fuchsia crop which was infusing.

    Good Lord, that trip was exhausting!… she growled in a very deep voiced that suddenly sounded more male than before.
    Didn’t know I had to go as far as Spain to get that darn skull!

    Bernie suddenly ripped her fine chignon from her head, revealing a bald head with a few short black hair on the top. She spitted her false teeth, peeled off some wrinkled patches of latex skin, smeared the mascara around her globular eyes and scratched her crotch…

    A ruffled sound and a “mmm mmm” suddenly caught her attention off the itchy body parts.

    She went to the cupboard, drew a key dangling from a necklace deeply buried inside her ample bosom, then stopped for a moment, and muttered a “bugger” before unbuttoning her tight blouse and removing the corset that was constraining her breath.
    Smiling wickedly, she proceeded to open the cupboard, but recoiled at a pale tied and muzzled figure who looked much similar to whoever she was impersonating.

    Oh, Lordy, what a stench! There’s no point in making such a fuss Viscountess, this will soon be over… I just needed a few things, and will soon be off, tonight to be precise…

    The pale figure whined with pleading eyes.

    Oh, just don’t make these eyes at me…

    Bugger! I can’t bother with her now, she said to herself, closing the cupboard’s door oblivious to the plaintiff whines. Now, got to move on real quick, before they realize something was wrong with the transaction.

    :fleuron:

    Juan had insisted that they all spent Christmas together before Paqui and Joselito went for their trip. He felt that there was more to this trip that he could grasp, and wanted to share these precious moments now, not wanting to live on regrets.
    Now, the new year was here, and he was alone. At least, he’d been more than glad to see Claudio move out. It had all been a lot easier than he’d thought at first. Obviously, when Paquita had said to that maggot that she was going to accompany Joselito to his trip on the whachaname-Kikkoo Island, Claudio had been outraged, probably thinking a good playing victim act would soon make things right for him.
    But he’d been wrong altogether. It was not about love for him or the other. It was all about freedom and being what she wanted. And emotional blackmail very quickly proved besides the point.
    His father had been proud at Paquita. Her decision obviously was made, and it had been the first time he had seen the frail girl unwavering at the arguments.

    The situation had soon proved unbearable for Claudio, who had no longer any reason for hanging around Juan and Paqui’s house, and one day he’d moved out, rather discreetly, not to be heard again. Somehow, Juan was aware of the town’s gossips, that he had acquired some unexpected sum of money, not sure if all very legally, but the thing was that he had decided to take his chances by going some said to Nicaragua, others to Brazil or even to the US…
    But who really cared?

    :fleuron:

    On his plane for Valparaiso, Claudio was looking at the letter he’d found in the family trunk. It was a brief correspondence between his grand-father and a certain Cillian Mc Gaughran, and it was linked to the skull he had sold such a handsome price. Perhaps he could get more information about them, if the recluse old man was still alive, that is…

    #597

    “ As we have stated previously, these terms are quite limiting for explanation purposes. The terminology is not incorrect, by any means. It is only expressing a much, much smaller impression to you than, in actuality, these terms represent. If your interpretation of these terms is too literal, you may find yourself accepting concepts which have only been explained to you partially; for our explanation of concepts is only a minute portion of the entirety of any idea, or concept, or “doctrine.” Only playing, my friend! These concepts must be taken in at this present time, within your present understanding, to the intellect; and the intellect must be allowed to trigger the intuition, allowing a full circle of thought, so to speak; this full circle being a continuous flow of information to assimilation, to actualization, to creation”

    Patel

    Not AGAIN!! shouted Becky. For the past week every time she tried to open her blog page, it always opened on this old post of Patels. Usually, by a circuitous route, she did eventually manage to arrive on her most recent post…..but not today! That monkey Patel wouldn’t let Becky look at any other post but this.

    Funny coincidence really that she’d watched the cartoon last night called Madagascar, starrring Patel himself as King of the Lemurs. Becky had to laugh. A rave party of dancing lemurs on ecstasy!

    #1990

    In reply to: Scrying the Word Cloud

    TracyTracy
    Participant

      Becky caught SIGHT OF THE MOON AND liked THE WHITE light. SHE FOUND herself SITTING quietLY, BLISSFULLY UNAWARE OF DEAD GUY sessionS IN THE white OF THE SILVERY MOON. I WILL remember THIS! OF ALL THE tripS, A MOMENT OF MOONLIGHT apparently WAS KEY. SHE knew HER random ROAMING years WERE HERE FOR MANY A year TO COME. THE NIGHT air AND THE MAGIC moon IS KEY. SHE wondered WHY SHE DIDN’T HAVE THE sense TO NOTICE THE moments MORE OFTEN.

      :yahoo_star: :yahoo_star: :yahoo_star: :yahoo_star:

      #1421
      Jib
      Participant

        GRAWOOOOOOOOOL :face-monkey:

        #1419
        Jib
        Participant

          yeah with a few beers in the blood all can make sense easily…

          :yahoo_monkey:

          #1984

          In reply to: Scrying the Word Cloud

          TracyTracy
          Participant

            TIME TO face THE words, LONG forgotten. Georges DIDN’T understand BUT SANSO noticed AND askED ABOUT THE trip. TED wondered ABOUT THE saloon, AND BECKY WONDERED ABOUT DR bronklehampton AND ALL THAT money. CLUES within key POINTS following huge COMMENTS, ALL happening NOW. A NICE round read gave ME AN INSIGHT TO THE times OF THE story THIS morning.

            :yahoo_idk:

            #1983

            In reply to: Scrying the Word Cloud

            TracyTracy
            Participant

              THE book, OR THE story HAD MANY aspects. sam AND everyone INCLUDING THE family WERE behind AND COULDN’T tell WHICH body WAS perfect AND WHICH WAS blue. SO MANY synch’S caught MY EYE, AND ALL WERE key. WHATEVER age YOU ARE, A random READ IS QUITE AN experience. ALL eyes ARE able TO SEE THE light, WHETHER IT BE lemon, god OR whatever. A huge followING, full OF nice focused structures.

              :yahoo_applause:

              #570

              It’s a very nice name, Arona. But you must have been dreaming. My name isn’t Floyd in this focus.

              Oh bugger it! said Arona, not really listening to Floyd, or whatever he said his name was. Floyd, they look like nice people don’t you think?,… a bit weirdo perhaps but the monkey is cute … and I do love dancing. I have not danced in ages. Oh let’s just join in anyway!

              Well, I am not really dressed for it, and I am not much of a dancer … answered Floyd uneasily.

              We can be anyone we want to be! responded Arona, in an unusually irrepressible mood. let’s just close our eyes and imagine how we want to look, and let’s go! Don’t forget to smile will you.

              Arona and Floyd join in the Disco Dance

              That was fun! and you are a great dancer Floyd! laughed Arona. And thanks Guys! hope we didn’t interrupt anything, she called out to the new arrivals at the cave.

              Not at all, join in anytime! answered Georges with a smile.

              Actually, Arona, it’s Sanso, not Floyd, said Sanso.

              Oh right! sorry … I was sure you said Floyd, silly me. I often get things mixed up, apologised Arona, graciously. Anyway, I think I had better go back and see what Yikesy is up to. I left him playing with that Salumbmatibum thingy. Goodness only knows what he will have created!

              #567

              Veranassessee (V’ass) Eloha, swimming like a naiad in the waves of the sapphire sea bordering the island of Tikfijikoo, was back in a few powerful strokes on the wooden planks of the pier from which she had just fallen.

              Trained in many martial arts and in the art of concealing her emotions, she effortlessly managed to maintain a perfect composure despite the fact that this unexpected moment of inattention may have cost the loss of the precious box of rare Blue Bonnet spiders —the venom of which was needed for the good success of the “treatments”.

              Sharon and Gloria, still cackling unceasingly, thanked Armando, the pilot of the seaplane, who had entertained them no end with his stories of mysterious wreckages and lost aircrafts.
              Now they’d just landed on this paradisaic island, and a gorgeous woman dripping in water was extending them a firm hand, greeting them.

              :fleuron:

              Al was wondering who had jinxed his last entry in the play, that he had to write twice, since some invisible mischievous hand had just made him lose the first in the /dev/null dimension.
              Good thing the Sumafairies bent over his crib had been gifting him with a good memory…

              :fleuron:

              Welcome at Tikfijikoo, where your kewlest dreams come troo.

              V’ass was satisfied. Though, most of the box had been lost, she had managed to save two couples of spiders, which would be enough for the two turkeys. :yahoo_chicken:
              As for the remaining ones, let’s just hope they’re all dead and drowned.

              #565
              TracyTracy
              Participant

                It had been a long trip home, and Dory was glad the journey was over. She sat on the patio in the warm winter sunshine, surrounded by affectionate wet doggy noses who prodded her arm, making her slop her fresh squeezed orange juice. The birds twittered and screeched in the lemon and olive trees. She closed her eyes and sighed with pleasure. Home!

                The screeching turned into a long drawn out yowl, and it was a moment or two before Dory realized that monkey Charlie had rounded up a gang of his canine buddies for another cat mauling expedition down at the bottom of the garden. Dory leapt to her feet and ran down the cobbled path, shrieking at the dogs to stop. She rescued the limp and traumatized, but thankfully unhurt cat, and wondered again what she was reflecting to herself every time her dogs ganged up on one of her cats.

                Shaking slightly, she sat down again in the patio chair, cradling the wide eyed cat, her fur standing in sticky peaks of dog saliva. Dory had stroked the fur smooth, and relaxed. Home! It was great to be home.

                #1974

                In reply to: Scrying the Word Cloud

                ÉricÉric
                Keymaster

                  WOW… lots of interesting ones in that cloud here:

                  — Once under thinking, session clear words God/Human waiting speaking word, language beginning feeling looked. Key herself aware […]
                  — Gaughran home looking funny random energies
                  — Tracy floating, magic color seemed trip
                  — Points side mountains, process great
                  — Bugger difficult! Nice interesting moment link :bounce: creating action
                  — Trust help face aspects seems play
                  — Structures changing… Dancing green heart Finn
                  Badul getting synch princess
                  Twilight book important
                  Elikozoe stories singing magical times. Able feel sort understand images mind, read Armelle. Voice started moments sync call Maevel

                  #1972

                  In reply to: Scrying the Word Cloud

                  Jib
                  Participant

                    =)) what an omen :))

                    quintin anna telling rose gave opened wondering sighed growing yourself laughing eyes mandrake particular key gift creating yikesy color game happened

                    #543

                    The bal room was ready. Malvina was looking around and decided that all was perfect now
                    She felt the subtle ripples of her friends energy. Sam was waiting patiently their arrival.

                    The east wall just blurred and began to glow lightly of deep teal and emerald shades, blended in a beautiful and quite creative whirlpool.

                    Malvina just moved her attention on the encoding of her hair and shift slightly some hue to express a dark stary night, sparkling and full of mystery.

                    A thrill went through her body as she saw Georges and Salome emerge from the wall… and she burst into laughter at the sight of the marmoset which was looking at her with such a big smile :face-monkey:

                    Her laugh rippled through the crystals of the cave, making their light iridescent and swinging.

                    WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH! A giant disco ball :bounce: just for us.

                    Georges couldn’t stop laughing and began dancing as Salome was generating a peppy and swinging music… he was all jumping and swirling, and Sam was jumping all around, barking at him with joy.

                    — What the hell, began Leörmn but he was fascinated.

                    And that’s when a wavy Irtak entered the discave with his 2 dragons… they immediately changed shape and began to swirl around with Georges, and Irtak was wondering if he was dreaming or if it was another process in his discovery… he was feeling as if he was dancing as the man-Georges. :yahoo_hypnotized: His body just started moving following the movements of Georges and they were just one.

                    #506

                    Beattie and Leonora had finished unpacking their belongings, and had rearranged the meager furnishings of the little white washed cottage. There was one item as yet unpacked: a sturdy wooden crate.

                    What are we going to do with them, Bea?

                    Hmmm? Beattie looked up from the computer. Oh, the bloody skulls. Well, not on the mantelpiece that’s for sure! We’ll have to hide them again. How about in the old bread oven outside?

                    There’s an idea, replied Leonora. Give us a hand then, Bea

                    But Beattie was busy tapping away at the keyboard. Well, what a coincidence! she cackled, turning round to face Leo. Bert’s found another one!

                    #1959

                    In reply to: Scrying the Word Cloud

                    TracyTracy
                    Participant

                      key remembered! :yahoo_applause:
                      sync armelle energies! :yahoo_not_worthy:

                      #499

                      Thanksgiving, 1847

                      That last business trip in British Honduras had proven fruitful to Aldous. It had almost made him forget about the blue bull of the Disperso family.
                      Because Aldous was a collector. No one truly understood what were his motivations, but he was driven by the highest ideals. Some treasures weren’t deserved by the profane, he was thinking as he was munching on a tender juicy turkey leg.
                      He belched with profound depth.
                      Yes, he was doing everything with utmost depth and dedication.

                      Take that blue bull for instance… A gift from Indian officials he had managed to have them bring here. Its real place was in a zoo, with a small fee at the entrance of course, but most importantly some information on how it was acquired and by whom. Definitely not in the farm of some hillbillies just because they have happened to win that stupid rodeo contest.
                      In any case, he would put that right again in due time.

                      Let’s think of more pleasant things. Like these mahogany traders who had came into contact with remote Mayan tribes. Mahogany was nice, but Mayan treasure were even more interesting.

                      #492

                      Yurick found a very nice surprise in his mailbox. A parcel from his red bearded friend Gustav with whom he had not spoken much till Vienna .
                      Funnily it was for Yurick’s birthday, and his birthday was almost two months ago. And yet, it was perfectly synchronous with his many friends popping birthdays. Malika first, soon followed by Aina, and others.

                      In the parcel, there was a big stuffed panda, and an old video game Yurick was very fond of when he was a kid. It was called Monkey Island… A funny pirate’s game. He liked the island and monkey imageries. Like being in an island recently, yet not being cut off from the rest of the world…

                      Oh, and there was another game, one he didn’t know about, Grim Fandango, with skeletons on the cover, like playing some strange cluedo game…

                      And a novel from Proust, with Yurick’s name on it! A parody from the style of Proust’s contemporary, Balzac included…

                      Wow… so many syncs. He would call his friend in the afternoon.

                      #487

                      Jo was looking at Mc Gaughran. He didn’t like him. Especially since he was so insistant at buying their ranch. It was not the price that was important. Mc Gaughran had offered them much already and Jo was a bit shamefull that he even once considered the offer. They had a little argument about that with Elroy, and he had felt very tore appart opposing his brother. He was very close to him and was admiring him so much.

                      And he was feeling very protective toward his sister. She could do whatever she wanted, that was not the point. The point was he didn’t want other to bother her. And that Mc Gaughran was looking at her a bit too insistantly to his taste.

                      He finished his whiskey an looked at the barman, Thomas. He was a very good friend of Elroy and him and was like a giant dwarf, stout and big red beard. He knew he could count on him to have a look at the man.

                      — Have to go, Tommee, he mumbled. Be back later.

                      Despite his disgust of Mc Gaughran, he also had some stuffs to check about the new man in town. He was feeling a bit unseasy as if some things would be unfolded, things that should better stay burried. He left the saloon like a shadow.

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