Daily Random Quote

  • Becky and Sean had been honeymooning in Galle , on the southwestern coast of Sri Lanka, for just over a week. It hadn’t been going too well, truth be told, as Becky had become increasingly frustrated at her broadening waistline, and Sean had discovered the joys of cashew fenny liquor. You’re not getting fat, Becky, you’re pregnant! ... · ID #941 (continued)
    (next in 12h 16min…)

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  • #4398
    ÉricÉric
    Keymaster

      “Flat as a pancake!” she said with a doleful air and grandiose waves of her hands. “The world is flat as a pancake. Oh, sure it turns, about just as slow as needed so we won’t notice, little bugs that we are on that big flat pancake.”
      “Really? And the doline…”
      “At the center of it, obviously.” She paused mysteriously. “And if the legends are true, when the gates open, all the other stuff freely goes in and out.”
      “From where?” another student asked
      EVERYWHERE” she leaned her head forward, matted hair sticking to her temple, a feverish madness twinkling her eyes. “All the dimensions take a turn, turn, turn, turn.”

      #4397
      TracyTracy
      Participant

        “How’s the new dog settling in, Ma?” asked Albie, playing for time.

        “Oh, she’s doing fine, don’t you worry about that, and don’t try and change the subject!” retorted Freda. “Lottie told me all about it this morning. You had one job to do, one job!”

        “That’s what Lottie said,” replied Albie, looking down at his shoes and halfheartedly attempting to knock the dried mud off them on the chair leg. “Sorry, Ma,” he added sadly. “Shall I take the new dog for a walk?”

        Freda sighed. “Oh alright then, but don’t let her off the lead. And make sure you get back before the rain. And stop kicking mud all over the floor!”

        #4393
        TracyTracy
        Participant

          They have entered, now peace is all shattered,
          And the quiet was all that had mattered,
          But alas that is over,
          And blown is my cover,
          And I’m sulky and not feeling flattered.

          Petra was scribbling furiously in her expedition notebook, not wanting to forget the exact wording of the curious message she had received on waking from her nap behind the rocks. It was not the first time she had heard telepathic messages in rhyme, and wondered briefly about the possible connections, but then Lillianne woke up farting dreadfully, and she was distracted.

          #4392
          Jib
          Participant

            “Tourists!” shouted Ugo the gecko to his albino friends. They all stopped and turned their heads in unison to look at the two humans who had entered the premises, inside their small chests their hearts beating fast with excitement like so many small shamanic drums that only gecko ears could hear. Ugo was so engrossed in those two humongous creatures and the hypnotic rhythm of his friends’ heartbeats that he didn’t see the suckers from his front left paw were getting loose again. They had been damaged in a fight with a twirling bat one week ago and they still hadn’t heal nicely because he didn’t care so much. Soon his left paw got detached from the ancient stones of the wall, followed by his right and soon he fell. But like he was made of sticking rubber the fall was short and he got stuck again on a lower stone, walking on the head of a few friends in the process.

            “Sorry for that! I’ll have them checked, promise.”

            Some of the geckos missed a heartbeat, frightened by the sudden turmoil. They ran in what might appear random directions and panic quickly spread among the albino geckolony on the wall. By a miracle of nature and because they were all so fascinated by tourists, the geckos rearranged nicely only to stop a sucking steps away and turned their head back again toward the tourists. Their hearts beating in unison again.

            “Look! that dark wall over there with the white hieroglyphs. I’m sure it just moved!” said the tallest of the tourists. She was curious and decided to go watch by herself what that curious wall was about.

            #4391
            TracyTracy
            Participant

              It had been a long time coming, but Lillianne had known there was no rush. There had been a flurry of interest many years ago, but nothing came to fruition. All the ingredients were there for a banquet of discovery, but no cooks to combine the ingredients successfully ~ until now.

              They’d been very careful to cover their tracks, even laying red herrings along the way. Others were interested, they knew that, and they knew they’d been followed, sensing the lurking energy trails behind them. But the main thing was, they got there first. Now was not a time to relax, despite the urge to just pause and revel in the accomplishment.

              “But I’m knackered, Lillianne,” whined Petra, running her hands distractedly through her tangled hair. “Surely we can take a little nap before we continue. Over there behind those rocks, look! Let’s just nip behind there.”

              Lillianne pursed her lips. There was no point in arguing with Petra when she was tired. And the more she thought about it, the more a short rest sounded enticing. The climb down into the dense wooded gorge had been arduous, and her ankle ached where she’d twisted it on a loose rock.

              “Come on then, but only half an hour!”

              #4385

              In reply to: Scrying the Word Cloud

              TracyTracy
              Participant

                leaving gardener
                doctor pull potions
                whatever hold threads
                potion holding memory dreaming spot
                book present
                making rude names fear round

                #4384
                TracyTracy
                Participant

                  “What we all need now”, Liz was thinking out loud, “Is a more relaxed approach. We should stop trying to be proper clever writers and just blather.”

                  “If it’s supposed to be relaxed blather, why did you just fix three typo’s?” asked Finnley, the annoying maid, who had once again been peering over Elizabeth’s shoulder, looking for something to find fault with.

                  “Oh come on, that’s a bit much, Liz!” Finnley retorted, accidentally on purpose slopping Liz’s tea into her ashtray, knowing a pet hate of hers was a wet ashtray.

                  “Do be careful, Finnely! snapped Liz.

                  “Just taking a relaxed approach to being a maid, Ma’am,” she replied rudely with a flamboyant gesture with her feather duster, which whacked Liz smartly across the back of the head as she swanned out of the room with her nose in the air.

                  #4382
                  Jib
                  Participant

                    Devan came back from Brisbane to help them plant the sale sign in front of the Inn. He was not sure how his sisters would take the thing, but the twins have been gone, and Prune was planning to go to Mars, her latest fad since she had seen a TV program about the Mars mission. Devan couldn’t believe they were talking about colonising Mars, but he couldn’t believe his family has stayed so long taking care of the old Inn.

                    #4372

                    Glynnis felt a little overwhelmed; so many strange people after all the years of virtual solitude. She was happy to busy herself making juices in the kitchen.

                    #4370

                    The memories of the strange vision had faded away. Only the feeling of awe was lingering in his heart.

                    Fox was walking in the forest near Margoritt’s cottage. The smell of humid soil was everywhere. Despite it being mostly decomposing leaves and insects, Fox found it quite pleasant. It carried within it childhood memories of running outside after the rain whild Master Gibbon was trying to teach him cleanliness. It had been a game for many years to roll into the mud and play with the malleable forest ground to make shapes of foxes and other animals to make a public to Gibbon’s teachings.

                    Fox had been walking around listening to the sucking sound made by his steps to help him focus back on reality. He was trying to catch sunlight patches with his bare feet, the sensations were cold and exquisite. The noise of the heavy rain had been replaced by the random dripping of the drops falling from the canopy as the trees were letting go of the excess of water they received.

                    It was not long before he found Gorrash. The dwarf was back in his statue state, he was face down, deep in the mud. Fox crouched down and gripped his friend where he could. He tried to release him from the ground but the mud was stronger, sucking, full of water.

                    “You can leave him there and wait the soil to dry. You can’t fight with water”, said Margorrit. “And I think that when it’s dry, we’ll have a nice half-mold to make a copy of your friend.”

                    Fox laughed. “You have so many strange ideas”, he told the old woman.

                    “Well, it has been my strength and my weakness, I have two hands and a strong mind, and they have always functioned together. I only think properly when I use my hands. And my thoughts always lead me to make use of my hands.”

                    Fox looked at Margoritt’s wrinkled hands, they were a bit deformed by arthritis but he could feel the experience they contained.

                    “Breakfast’s ready”, she said. “I’ve made some honey cookies with what was left of the the flour. And Glynis has prepared some interesting juices. I like her, she has a gift with colours.”

                    They left the dwarf to dry in the sun and walked back to the house where the others had already put everything on the table. Fox looked at everyone for a moment, maybe to take in that moment of grace and unlikely reunion of so many different people. He stopped at Rukshan who had a look of concern on his face. Then he started when Eleri talked right behind him. He hadn’t hear her come.

                    “I think I lost him”, she said. “What’s for breakfast? I’m always starving after shrooms.”

                    #4367
                    TracyTracy
                    Participant

                      “I brought you a present Liz,” said Finnley, looking relaxed and sun kissed. “From my holidays. I hope you like it!” she added, proffering a small gaudily wrapped gift.

                      “Where have you been?” asked Liz, with a beady glare of suspicion. “Why am I the last to know?”

                      #4365

                      The rain had poured again and again, across the night, with short fits of howling winds. There had been no sign of Eleri or Gorrash, and people in the cabin had waited for the first ray of light to venture outside to find them.
                      The newcomer, the quiet potion maker, stayed in her small quarters and hadn’t really mingled, but Margoritt wasn’t concerned about it. She was actually quite protective of her, and had continued her own chatter all through the night, doing small chores or being busy at her small loom, stopping at times in the middle of painful walking. She would however not cease speaking to whomever was listening at the time, or to her goat, or at times just to the wind or herself.

                      Rukshan had had several dreams during the night, and could tell he wasn’t the only one. Everyone had a tired look. Images came and went, but there was a sense of work to be done.

                      There were a few things he had managed to gather during that time awake when meditative state brought some clarity to the confused images.
                      First, they were all in this together.
                      Then, they probably needed a plan to repair the old.
                      As soon as they would find the two missing ones, he would share it with everyone.

                      ‘Hng hng’ — Rukshan opened his eyes to find Olliver drawing on his sleeve. The boy wasn’t very eloquent, but his postures would speak volumes. He was pointing to something outside.

                      Rukshan looked at the clearing just outside the cabin, at first not realising two things had happened. Then they both dawned on him: the first ray of light had come across the cloudy sky, and second, the clearing was empty of the vengeful God.

                      “Grumpf” he swore in the old Elvish tongue “that rascal is surely going after Eleri — Eleri who he now knew was the laughing crone of the story, rendered younger by the powers of her goddaughter, the tricked girl. Eleri, who having inherited of the transmutation powers, had turned the angry God who had been left behind into stone to protect all of them.
                      If the God would find her before they could get her to extract her Shard, at best they would be condemned to another cycle of rebirth, or worse, he would try to kill all of them to extract the other Shards from the others, one by one, until the Gods old powers would be his…

                      #4364

                      Rukshan had stayed awake for the most part of the night, slowly and repeatedly counting the seconds between the blazing strokes of lightning and the growling bouts of thunder.
                      It is slowly moving away.

                      The howling winds had stopped first, leaving the showers of rain fall in continuous streams against the dripping roof and wet walls.

                      An hour later maybe, his ear had turned to the sound of the newly arrived at the cottage, thinking it would be maybe the dwarf and Eleri coming back, but it was a different voice, very quiet, somehow familiar… the potion-maker?

                      He had warned Margoritt that a lady clad in head-to-toe shawls would likely come to them. Margoritt had understood that some magical weaving was at play. The old lady didn’t have siddhis or yogic powers, but she had a raw potential, very soundly rooted in her long practice of weaving, and learning the trades and tales of the weaving nomad folks. She had understood. Better, she’d known — from the moment I saw you and that little guy, she’d said, pointing at Tak curled under the bed.
                      “He’s amazing,” she’d said “wise beyond his age. But his mental state is not very strong.”

                      There was more than met the eye about Tak, Rukshan started to realize.
                      For now, the cottage had fell quiet. Dawn was near, and there was a brimming sense of peace and new beginning that came with the short silence before the birds started again their joyous chatter.

                      It must have been then that he collapsed on the table of exhaustion and started to dream.

                      It was long before.

                      The dragon is large and its presence awe-inspiring. They have just shared the shards, each has taken one of the seven. Even the girl, although she still hates to be among us.
                      The stench of the ring of fire is still in their nostrils. The Gods have deserted, and left as soon as the Portal closed itself. It is a mess.

                      “Good riddance.”

                      He raises his head, looking at the dragon above him. She is quite splendid, her scales a shining pearl blue on slate black, reflecting the moonshine in eerie patterns, and her plastron quietly shiny, almost softly fiery. His newly imbued power let him know intimately many things, at once. It is dizzying.

                      “You talk of the Gods, don’t you?” he says, already knowing the answer.
                      “Of course, I am. Good riddance. They had failed us so many times, forgot their duties, driven me and my kind to slavery. Now I am free. Free of guilt, and free of sorrow. Free to be myself, as I was meant to be.”
                      “It is a bit more complex th…”
                      “No it isn’t. It couldn’t be more simple. If you had the strength to see it, you would understand.”
                      “I know what you mean, but I am not sure I understand.”

                      The dragon smiles enigmatically. She turns to the lonely weeping girl, who is there with the old woman. Except her grand-mother is no longer an old crone, she has changed her shape to that of a younger person. She is showing potentials to the girl, almost drunk on the power, but it doesn’t alleviate her pain.

                      “What are you going to do about them?”

                      The Dragon seems above the concerns for herself. In a sense, she is right. It was all his instigation. He bears responsibility.

                      “I don’t know…” It is a strange thing to say, when you can know anything. He knows there are no good outcomes of this situation. Not with the power she now possesses.

                      “You better find out quick…” and wake up,

                      wake up, WAKE UP !

                      #4359
                      ÉricÉric
                      Keymaster

                        “So, that’s where the gardener has been hiding all this time…” Godfrey thought, quietly stepping out of the shadows into the sinkhole tunnels. “Maybe I’ll just tell Liz’ he has resigned. Although she seemed more taken by this one than with the previous guys…”
                        While the gardener was snoring loudly, he took time to look around, and noticed the sprouting sack.
                        “How curious that those old books have started to come to life again…”

                        An idea had crossed his mind, both dreadful and exciting. The portal…

                        Leaving the gardener to his dreams, and taking another secret exit out of the dark tunnel, opening another succession of doors with the turn of a key hanging from the watch chain of his burgundy waistcoat, he soon found himself reappearing into a deep secret place. A small round room, almost like the inner chamber of a burrow, with no visible door, no window, seemingly lit only by a single ray of light coming from the pinhole in the ceiling, reflected on the glittering curved walls. At one side, was a well, and one could hear the humming sound of flowing underground water.
                        On the well, where deeply carved words : “HC SVNT DRACONES”. Just below them, painted in white in Godfrey’s flowering handwriting : “Here be dragons!”

                        There still was the heavy latch, bolted by a large futuristic-looking lock.

                        Phew, still closed. Godfrey sighed a sigh of relief. He couldn’t imagine the damage to Liz’ frail hold on reality, where she to find about what was lurking behind.

                        Popping a peanut in his mouth, he smiled wryly, reminisced of what Finnley had said about her “discovering” of the attic; yes, their secret was fine with them for now. At least so long as what was locked on the other side stayed there of course…

                        #4358
                        F LoveF Love
                        Participant

                          “Jingle, where are you?” asked Finnley grumpily, peering into the darkness of the attic.

                          “Here”, hissed Jingle from behind some boxes. “Has that dreadful man gone yet?”

                          “Nope, still here. Drooling over Liz no doubt.”

                          “I won’t go back to my mother! That awful woman!”

                          “Well you can’t stay here so you had better go out the window.”

                          “What window? There is no window!” whimpered Jingle.

                          Oh for Flove’s sake! thought Finnley. No imagination. That’s her trouble.

                          Adroitly, she whipped out some power tools and cut a hole in the roof.

                          “There!” she said, taking a step back to survey her work. “A window. Now, off you go. And don’t come back.”

                          “Oh thank you, Finnley. You are wonderful!”

                          “I am, aren’t I,” smirked Finnley.

                          And after all, Liz didn’t even know she had an attic so she certainly won’t notice a window.

                          #4356

                          Fox woke up in the mud. He felt thirsty and confused, not knowing where he was or when it was, except that it was night time. He looked around him and despite the darkness he was seeing clearly. He was in a small glade, surrounded by tall trees. The grass had a strange greenish glow and seemed to float around like tentacles trying to seize whatever passed near.

                          An emotion rose from his heart and jumped outside of him before he could feel it. It had a colour. it was blue and had the shape of a drop of jelly, darker in its center. Fox looked, fascinated, as it taunted the blades of grass. His heart jumped as a longer tentacle almost caught the drop, that’s when he knew he had to take it back. He couldn’t let it out into the world like that.

                          Not with the others so close.

                          Fox felt puzzled at the thought. What others was it referring to? He heard someone crying, it sounded like someone miserable. He felt something fall on his hands, droplets of water, and realised he was the one crying. He stood up and was surprised by the height. He found a little pond and looked at his reflection. The lonesome face of a troll was looking back at him.

                          Am I dreaming?

                          #4355
                          TracyTracy
                          Participant

                            “You incredibly rude fuckers after we were obliged to listen to yours for years,” Elizabeth’s fingers tapped loudly on the keyboard. “It would be at the very least polite to show a little interest, even if it is feigned, but no! Stuck up your own arseholes as usual!”

                            “You can’t say that, Liz!” Finnley gasped, looking over Liz’s shoulder.

                            “Fuck ‘em!” replied Liz, thrusting her keyboard to the back of the desk with a satisfied smile. “You just can’t get the crowd fillers these days. Now then, were is that tasty gardener?”

                            #4351

                            “Oh no!” Margoritt swore loudly, “not that cursed rain again!”.
                            They were about to share what was left of the cake for dessert when the first booming strike of thunder resounded violently across the mountains.

                            She cupped her hands in front of her mouth to rally the troops over the noisy rumble of the heavy dark clouds. “Inside! Everyone inside!” — when the rains started in spring, they could go on for days, drenching the countryside in curtains of water.

                            The first drops falling, quickly extinguishing the candles, Rukshan raised his head to look at the darker skies covering completely the moon’s glow “This is no ordinary rain…”

                            “You bet, it isn’t!” Margoritt said, looking more sombre than she ever was. “That magical umbrella won’t be enough this time, we are probably going to have to sit that one out inside. Help me bring the animals inside.”

                            In front of the small cottage, everyone else started to hurry inside, bringing back the plates, cups and leftovers, while Rukshan was preparing some wood for the fire to keep the moist away.

                            “Has anybody seen Eleri?” Yorath’s look was concerned. “She seem to have disappeared somewhere as usual… But she hasn’t come back yet,… and I’m afraid she took a large bite of the trancing cake too. It’s not a good night to trance out.”

                            Rukshan was torn between waiting a bit longer, or going to search for her, which would be risking lives during the dark stormy night. He was about to offer to go outside himself when Gorrash said briskly:
                            “Let me go find her, this storm is nothing, and I’m used to the dark. You all should stay inside. If I don’t come back at the break of dawn, you can go out to look for us, but don’t worry too much about me, I’ll blend in.” He winked at Fox who smiled weakly. He didn’t like this type of cold rain. Its smell was damp and rotten.

                            “Thank you Gorrash, that is very noble of you. Please, take care of yourself, and be back soon.” Rukshan said as he opened the door which was now jerking violently against the darkest night.

                            #4349
                            F LoveF Love
                            Participant

                              “Who’s been chucking stuff in the urn!?” grumbled Finnley. “Always someone messing things up round this place.”

                              She took the parcel and dumped it in the overflowing garbage bin.

                              Just in time for the rubbish collector, she thought with satisfaction.

                              #4348
                              TracyTracy
                              Participant

                                Godfrey might have heard the postman knocking at the door if he hadn’t had his earplugs in, and Roberto, had he been gardening as usual, might have seen the postmans’ approach. Liz, had she been downstairs in her sitting room, might have heard the knock. The postman knocked again, wondering whether to leave the parcel on the doorstep, or take it back to the office. He decided to leave it inside a large urn under the window, rather than carrying it back again, and made a mental note to mention it on his next visit to the house.

                              Viewing 20 results - 941 through 960 (of 2,636 total)

                              Daily Random Quote

                              • Becky and Sean had been honeymooning in Galle , on the southwestern coast of Sri Lanka, for just over a week. It hadn’t been going too well, truth be told, as Becky had become increasingly frustrated at her broadening waistline, and Sean had discovered the joys of cashew fenny liquor. You’re not getting fat, Becky, you’re pregnant! ... · ID #941 (continued)
                                (next in 12h 16min…)

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