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  • #853

    Leah picked her way carefully across the living room, stepping over the sprawled limbs of sleeping guests. The party last night had been a wild one, and overflowing ashtrays and empty bottles littered the room, not to mention a rag taggle assortment of snoring bodies. Leah picked up her laptop and made her way to the kitchen. She rubbed her eyes and yawned as the kettle boiled, and checked her emails.

    L.E. Muir
    R. Abbott &Co

    Choosing to deal with work correspondence after a few cups of coffee, Leah clicked on the next one.

    Luce Mong
    c/o Leah Muir

    Hhmm, it’s from Becky Vane Wrick. I wonder who that is? I wonder if it’s that gal we met in Long Pong last year?

    #845

    She put down the plate of honeycomb and turned round slowly, her calm exterior belying the fear which had suddenly gripped her insides.

    He had called her Agent V!

    She had to stay calm, think quickly.

    And why is that, Jarvis?

    Jarvis, what did she know about him? He had been employed by Dr Bronkelhampton, although Veranassessee had resisted the idea vigorously. The fewer people on the island the better as far as she was concerned. But the doctor had insisted he needed someone to tend the gardens, and in the end she had decided it wasn’t worth making an issue of.

    I think I might be able to answer that question. Agent Gabriele entered the kitchen. His sudden presence had almost as disconcerting effect on Veranassessee as the revelation that Jarvis knew her identity.

    A little sideline of our beloved Doctor is to experiment with honeybee mutations. Isn’t that right, Jarvis? And in the process he has discovered a way to alter the chemical composition of the honeycomb. It looks and tastes like honey, but too much of it is deadly.

    Veranassessee turned to Jarvis. You knew this Jarvis …. but then why leave it in the fridge … and why warn me?

    Wasn’t me left it in the fridge. I saw it there earlier. I figured the Doctor left it there. Buggered if I know why. He’s an odd one that one. Getting odder by the minute too.

    A loud clattering outside and they all turned.

    Winds getting up quickly, said Agent Gabriele in clipped tones. Secure the hives Jarvis. God knows we don’t need mutated bees on the loose. V tell the guests to stay in their rooms and away from the windows, and then meet me in my room. I’ll deal with the Doctor.

    :fleuron:

    Bloody windy here aint it. Thought I was coming to a bloody tropical paradise! Mavis was looking outside anxiously.

    Oh this aint typical. The weathers been grand. We’ve been out bloody sun baking most days.

    Oh we have! The sun and airs got special beauty qualities here. That Vessie told us that. Encourages us to get out and about.

    Ere I know what will cheer you up. Lets get a snack from the kitchen. There’s some special ureu beauty biscuits in the pantry, and the chocolate brownies are bloody delicious. Who’d have thought chocolate had special beauty qualities eh. She’s a genius that Vassie. Oh I tell you what, I found some lovely honeycomb in the fridge this morning! Sharon licked her lips in anticipation.

    Oh I’m bloody drooling here, Sha! You’re a bloody genius you are

    #843

    The new colors of The Snoot were making Anita giggle a lot. Its liquid fur was iridescent and blazing rhythmically more and more intensely.
    Armelle was getting more and more irritated, with no reason at all, the owl :y_orly: was rolling her eyes furiously :yahoo_rolling_eyes:
    Yuki :bunny_head: was trying to keep track of the conversation because he thought it was going berserk and not leading anywhere, while Araili :cat_confused: seemed to be distracted by a dead :mouse: still moving its tail and Rafaela :goat: was talking limerick with a funny accent.

    Akita and Kay were arguing about some point of detail of how they had arrived here.

    The bunch of friends were not aware of what was approaching and how it was influencing them. Maybe the Snoot was, but the Snoot didn’t think it could be of use to warn them, they were far enough from the hole.

    #841

    Jarvis was dozing in a dark corner of the kitchen. He was dreaming of bees, he had been assigned to the bee keeping a few weeks ago, just after the “incident”. He was one man the Dr could trust. In a previous life, he was keeping bees as a family business. But an accident with the bees led to his dismissal by his uncle. A regrettable accident, too much smoke, too much dead bees. Jarvis had been thinking of a sabotage, surely he had been framed but as he was thinking of quiting this poor paid job, it was also a perfect occasion.

    He had been engaged as a security agent… sort of. He had to pretend to be a gardener and not awake suspicion among the others. The funny thing is that he had soon been contacted by another organization, and had been offered quite a good price. All he had to do was observe and dream. Unfortunately, the man, Claude, who had approached him was disguised as a patient… and he had disappeared after the “incident”. Since then Jarvis had been having strange dreams of mummies, magpies, there was even one with 3 eyes 2 nights ago :yahoo_waiting:

    The light was turned on abruptly. Someone was arriving, still hidden by the tables and shelves.
    With the sound of the heels on the tiled floor, that was a woman… or the Doctor.
    A little twinge told him not to let him be noticed yet. He moved his head silently in a position from which he could see who it was.
    Oh! that big athletic woman, Vasse.
    Claude had told him about her. Jarvis had to be very cautious, because she was of another organization… another :cat_confused: he was calling her agent V. Well Jarvis wasn’t curious enough to ask any further detail, there were already too much to remember.

    She was doing something with a little jar of a brown substance, and brought a spoon full at her mouth. Her sudden coughing and spitting almost made him fall off his chair. But hopefully with all the noise she hadn’t noticed. Mumbling, she was heading toward the fridge. Was she possibly aware of…

    Yes! she was taking the plate with the honeycomb… he’d have to move quickly.
    As she was considering the modified honeycomb, he realized that she was about to eat it. So she didn’t know. :-? He had to warn her.

    — I wouldn’t touch that if I were you, Agent V…

    #839

    Veranassessee stared anxiously out the window of the compound kitchen. The sky was grey and threatening. The weather forecast was predicting strong winds and high tides asTropical Cyclone Ycart headed towards the coast.

    She could hear an annoying high pitched chattering in the distance, Sha and Glor were clearly delighted to be reunited with their old friend. The other two new arrivals had declined all offers of hospitality and had slunk quietly to their room.

    In her hand was the little jar of black stuff Mahiliki had sent her in his latest parcel. “This is full of Vitamin B. It will do you good” the note attached had read. She rolled her eyes. Ever the romantic, she muttered to herself. She put her knife in the jar and tentatively licked the gooey concoction.

    TELE LEVU OULU COW!

    She spat the disgusting stuff out and looked around for something to try and rid her mouth of the dreadful taste. To her suprise she found a plate of honeycomb in the fridge. Although there were bee hives on the island, Dr Bronkelhampton had always insisted upon tending them himself, becoming quite agitated if anyone else went near them,. Lately his mental state had not predisposed him to doing much more than shutting himself away in his office.

    I wouldn’t touch that if I were you, Agent V, came a familiar voice behind her.

    #836

    Anita was playing with her new friend.
    The Snoot, it had told her was its name. The Snoot was very ancient, very curious tooo.
    The Snoot was asking loads of question, though they weren’t formulated with words, because the Snoot wasn’t speaking. It was too slow for the Snoot.

    Nonetheless she was giggling, distracted from the preoccupations of Akita and the others.

    #819
    ÉricÉric
    Keymaster

      A man was walking on the narrow path shaded by the tall pandanus trees.

      Mahiliki was coming back from the sawmill where he worked, smiling to the people he met on his way back home. The island of Fikitupi was a small island in the Pacific, and he knew most of the people living around this small corner here.

      An old wizened lady with a toupee was busy weaving pandanus dried leaves into baskets and mats on the front door of her small house, while children were running to and fro among noisy chicken all around the place.
      Mahiliki smiled, fond as he was of Nanaiis, whom all children loved deeply, for she always had new tales for them to hear, and cheering words to share. She was quite intuitive, and had said to him years ago that his new girlfriend wouldn’t stay around and have lots of children.
      He didn’t want many children anyway… but as Nanaiis had said, Vera had left, not without saying she would come back though.
      Mahiliki didn’t count much on it, but he had all the time to wait for her. Life was calm and sweet here, and its appeal was great.

      At a short distance, he could spot the hut of O’panié and Twahissi. They were some funny strange hoots these two. Twahissi was the light-haired niece of O’panié and she was sharing with him her love for otherworldly matters. Twahissi’s parents had left her in his care, when they left to open a shop in the main island of the archipelago, and frankly, Twahissy was far more comfortable staying in Fukitupi where all felt magic to her.

      Mahiliki smiled when he finally understood they were trying to bury something near the culvert on the side of their hut. For apparently no reason, a month or two ago, O’panié had become interested in old papers and had become convinced that the date line was not only passing on the island of Fukitupi, but even more, it was passing right through his hut, and thus might explain his apparent sudden feelings of time loss.
      Some educated people had tried to reason him, but he’d stood fast in his opinion. Sightings of rainbow bubbletons by his niece Twahissi had him convinced even further that there was the possibility to improve this technique of time-travel. For as he crossed the bedroom he could step one day forward or backward! How thrilling it all was!
      Guess only the Elders knew what he was trying to bury now…

      Mahiliki could not but agree with him, as they were giving the whole village some pleasant laughing, and he had to admit that his enthusiasm was winning him more and more people to his quest. He wondered what sweet Vera would think of all of that, Cartesian as she was…

      #1755

      In reply to: Synchronicity

      ÉricÉric
      Keymaster

        I guess this falls under the category of syncs, though I’ve not yet found all of the implications of this yet…

        In the various extremely interesting and profound articles I found while browsing the news this morning, I found an intriguing article (FR): “She punches a snake with her bare hands!”. (they could have say “with her bare feet!” or better, “with her bare tits!”, that would have sounded more dramatic, and would have sold best… those wannabe journalists ;)) )

        Anyways, it tells the vibrant story of a woman named Ruth Butterwurth (sounds like our dear Mrs Butterbutt to me) who punched a python to rescue her kitty from its clutches (well no clutches really, fangs at best) of the monster.

        The article (which was posted the 23 rd of March, at 14:23, while it’s seems relatively old news) gave a link to a flickr photo with… guess what was on the same page, besides the Nanapython?

        A lemur, an antelope (looking a bit like a :goat: :yahoo_oh_go_on: ) and a lynx :cat_happy: too. :spider: :y_orly: :yahoo_big_hug:

        On the python article:

        In Greek mythology Python was the earth-dragon of Delphi, always represented in the vase-paintings and by sculptors as a serpent. Pytho was the chthonic enemy of Apollo, who slew her and remade her former home his own oracle, the most famous in Classical Greece.

        Mmm, Mrs Butterbutt and draggies? :detective:

        #802

        Bea stretched and yawned, and threw the bedcovers back. The early morning sun was streaming in the windows, catching the coloured glass bottles and crystals on the windowsill and making rainbow mice scamper over the floor. Horus, the Siamese cat, crouched with tail swishing, ready to pounce.

        Bea sat up and swung her legs out of bed, feeling around with her feet for her slippers; a rainbow mouse crawled up her leg.

        “Ouch! For fuck’s sake, Horus!”

        Horus stared at Bea, unperturbed, and then yowled, asking for breakfast.

        “Come on then Horus, let’s go and put the coffee on, are you hungry? Lovely day again! I wonder if Leonora’s up yet; doubt it! Come on then, hut hut!”

        Bea wasn’t sure why she always said ‘Hut Hut’ to the cat, but Horus seemed to know what she meant, and followed her into the kitchen.

        “Oh, it’s Eggleton painting day today, Horus!” Bea said to the cat, noticing the big basket of eggs on the kitchen table, For the Eggleton Hunt on Thursday.

        Horus yowled and twisted himself through Bea’s legs.

        “Ok Ok!” she replied, and opened a can of BocaBits with Atun. For herself, she made a large mug of black coffee with plenty of sugar, and lit a cigarette.

        With the third lungful of smoke, Bea recalled a strange snatch of dream, and started to sing:

        One man went to mow , went to mow a meadow,
        One man two man and his dog
        Went to mow a meadow……

        “Oh!” Bea said “I wrote something down in the night!” She went to the bedroom to get her dream journal.

        “One man went to mow scattered lettuces.”

        One man went to mow scattered lettuces? HUH? That doesn’t make any sense. I wonder if Leo can work it out, she’s good with clues…

        Leo! LEO! OY, Leo, whaddya make of this here dream snap-phrase then?” Bea barged into Leo’s bedroom and prodded the sleeping bulk.

        “Wha wha whazzat!” Leo woke up with a start. “Bloody ‘ell, Bea! You woke me up! I was having a lovely dream about rabbits, an’ all……”

        One man went to mow scattered lettuces; what do you make of that? “ Bea asked, as she plonked herself down on Leo’s bed with a bounce that made the bed springs squeak.

        Leo frowned, instantly awake now and intrigued with the clue. To Bea she said, “Get me a cup of coffee and a fag, and I’ll google it.”

        :fleuron2:

        Horus, having disinterestedly licked some of the juice off his Bocabits, jumped onto Leo’s lap as she typed the word lettuce into the search window. He jumped onto the desk, knocking a well worn paperback copy of Seth Speaks onto the floor, and on impulse, Leo added the words ‘Horus’ and ‘Seth’.

        Bea, Leo was laughing, Come and look at this .

        #768

        Bea! Come and look at this! Blimey O’RILEY, I ‘ave NEVER seen anything like this is me life!

        What’s up, Leo? Bea rushed over, rather unsteadily, slopping some gin down her clothes from the ever present glass clutched in her hand. Bloody ‘ell, Leo, what’re you doing looking at them crystal skulls again?

        It’s not the bloody skulls Bea, it’s all these rhino beetles ! There’s a blimmen HERD of them in this trunk! All over the skulls!

        Yeuch! exclaimed Beatrice, who was not particularly fond of insects. Better get the fly spray, hang on, I’ll fetch it.

        YOU CAN’T DO THAT! shreiked Leo. They’re symbolic!

        Symbolic of bloody WHAT?

        Well, I ‘int worked it out yet, ‘ave I? But you mark my words, they’re symbolic!

        Bea rolled her eyes, remembering the ‘symbolic ants’ she’d been obliged to endure all over the kitchen. Leo was losing touch with reality, Bea reckoned.

        Symbolic they may very well be, however, I am NOT having them in my bed, she said firmly. What are we going to do?

        Google it? suggested Leonora.

        Good idea. I’ll google it; now you make sure those bloody things stay in the trunk, eh. If any of them escape and head for the beds, call me!

        #1716

        In reply to: Synchronicity

        Jib
        Participant

          Ok, I don’t know how I fell upon this one, but all I can remember is that the name made me think of the gibbons syncs of the last few days…

          Cedric Gibbons

          Apparently he was an American art director, and “he is credited as the designer of the Oscar statuette in 1928.”
          Well that also syncs with Tracy’s comment about the parrot Oscar.. though I don’t remember where I saw it… maybe on her multiply thingy… and also after Eric’s great cubical comment, I remember seeing one of her messages to him and she said that he won an Oscar for it… :-?

          The other sync with him is that these last few days I had the impression of connecting to “ancient actors or actresses” those of the “golden age”… so to speak. Well I have not much to say about it except that it is a sync :p I still don’t know where it will lead me.

          (added later)

          Well apparently other syncs… the actress Deborah Kerr was one of the actresses in the movies he made in 1953 Young Bess and yesterday at work one of my colleagues, who is so interested in breeding cats, showed me a web site about Norwegian cats from the Lailoken site

          The kitten he was particularly interested in was called Deborah Kerr
          I don’t know if this page will stay long as they are for sale, though they are really cute.

          #746

          My God, what the fuck is that?

          Veranassessee sighed, seeing the two plump lady on top of one another, lying sprawled all fours on the ground, with the door blown out in shards.

          Untie me Gabriele, so that I can ask for the nurse’s help. she said reluctantly to her partner, seeing with a bit of dolefulness, the effect of their strange erotic games already waning off.

          — Are you alright ladies?
          — Oh, I guess so, Vessie, sorry to have interrupted, we thought…
          — Yes, yes… Veranassessee was feeling oddly detached from the women’s babbled and muddled excuses, and even more detached from her own sloppy appearance.
          All she could think at the moment was that she seemed fated to marry Mahiliki, and get loads of children on Fukitupi, a doom that hovered on her head like a rapacious magpie over a precious gemstone…
          Good thing she was so gorgeous she would look great even wearing a potatoes sack. Sure Gabriele had noticed that already…

          Arch-Agent Gabriele came back, telling her he had called nurse Bellamy on the intercom, and she would be here in a minute.
          I’ll go to my room dear, we’ll talk later about Barbella. he said casually, a convenient code for “plan B” between them two.
          Professional as he was, he had also, V’ass noticed, as the women were untangling themselves, made the box and the silky rope very stealthily disappear.

          Sure, they would have more time in the evening. But now, she noticed she’d been a bit too lax on the security around the new guests. Fine that Dr Bronkelhampton’s recommendations were to have the patients free for the first months of their treatments (after all, the more drastic transformations never occurred before the thirteenth week), but she had to be more careful about them.
          She could not have them compromise “plan B”.

          B as Barbella… or rather…
          B as Bee-hive.

          :fleuron:

          — Did you hear like me, Glo?
          — I think so, Sha
          — What’s that Barbiella, Glo?
          — Barbella, Sha, barbella, like barbell… Could be a woman’s name…
          — Poor Vessie seemed so annoyed by the incident…
          — Yes Sha, we have to help her somewhat, if we want her to forgive us
          — Sure, we’ll find something to do, Glo.
          — Yes… I don’t like that Barbella. Perhaps it’s the man’s…
          Gabriele
          — Yes, Sha, Gabriele —does sound Italian, doesn’t it?
          — I was about to tell you Glo
          — Perhaps that’s Gabriele’s wife…
          — Or some kinky sadomasochistic practice we never heard of…
          — Rhooo, Sha, chuckled Gloria, who was thinking of Veranassessee’s dress and wrists tying games…

          #742

          Due to the unusual events in the year 2026, Nishanti and her five sisters lived in the reconstructed ancient city of Hingapooloopi that had been submerged beneath the ocean for centuries. There had been a series of tsunami’s and eathquakes and volcanic eruptions resulting in an enormous hole appearing in the sea bed into which a considerable amount of Indian Ocean sea water had disappeared, lowering the sea levels in some locations, mainly those that had risen slightly due to shifting tectonic plates.

          Ten year old Nishanti and her five sisters (Hinni, 3; Yaso, 5; Yuvani, 7; Eromi, 13; and Nanda, 16) had lost their parents, and indeed most of their relatives, due to an unfortunate mishap in the kitchens two years previously in the year 2032 at the wedding party of their brother, Chandra. Gayesh, Nishanti’s eldest brother had mistakenly included poisonous red berries in the desert. Fortunately, Nishanti and her sisters had been reading the Snoot Q&A column in The Tarty Nun girls magazine that they had procured without their parents knowledge from a school trip of American tourists, in which Snoot had advised against red fruits.

          Hingapooloopi was located on the land bridge , once again exposed, between Sri Lanka and the Indian continent. The reconstruction had been an enormously interesting undertaking, and Nishanti’s uncle Roshan had been involved in the ground work excavations. He found many artifacts, which he smuggled off the building site, and secreted under the floorboards of the old family home in the highlands . Perhaps the most interesting one was the crystal skull; certainly it was the one that Nishanti found the most intriguing.

          #739

          Vessie Darl, Sha and I are just popping down to the beach for some more of them special beauty sea waters you told us about.

          Great idea, Gloria, responded Veranassessee vaguely. She watched absent-mindedly as Gloria’s generous body, clad only in a skimpy red bikini, disappeared down the corridor. There was something about that shade of red tugging at her memory. Vermillion red …

          Red! PLAN B! Oh my God! how could she have forgotten!

          It was two days since she had called him, that meant he would be here soon, that did not leave her much time to prepare.

          :fleuron:

          Everything has to be perfect. She wears a silk vermillion red camisole, the one he gave her, scarcely covered by lush black velvet and topped with bright red lipstick. She casts her eyes critically around the room. It is nearly three years since she has seen him, she doesn’t want to spoil this moment. The glasses of soft red merlot are ready, a plate of miniature liqueur chocolates on a plate by the bed.

          She shakes out her long dark hair and looks in the mirror. Her chocolate skin glows, her eyes are bright. She will do. She touches the red silk camisole … it is still beyond her comprehension how she can have forgotten.

          When he arrives he is beautiful. Too beautiful. she thinks. It is so easy for him, effortless. He appraises the room and laughs casually, he knows how hard she has tried. Agent V he says, a pleasure to see you again. He kisses her. She remembers everything.

          He takes a sip of the wine. She watches him, unsure of herself. He has a black bag with him.

          He looks at her, sees her looking at the bag, and smiles slowly, I have something to show you, Agent V, he says, and she can sense his pride, the barely suppressed excitement in his voice.

          He opens the bag carefully, pulls out a small white box, handles it lovingly. Two years experimentation in the Russian lab, he says softly, delicate threads of spun blue bonnet spider silk and yet strong enough to hang a bridge on.

          He looks at her. Come here. he says

          She hesitates for just a moment thinking of Mahiliki, and then inwardly shrugs, bugger it, I never really wanted to live on Fukitupi island and have loads of babies anyway. She moves over to him. He takes the transparent silk and slowly starts to wind the delicate thread around her wrists. Try and break it, he whispers in her ear, kisses her neck.

          Then stops.

          My God, what the fuck is that?

          Veranassessee sighs.

          :fleuron:

          No I swear Sha, I am telling you, I saw him go into Vessie’s room.

          Oh my God Glor, he might be a murderer, or a bloody rapist even!

          I tell you though, he were right bloody gorgeous.

          Well never mind that! The door is locked Sha. I think we’d better shout out. Make sure she’s okay.

          Right, good idea. And then if she doesn’t answer we can bash the door in and we can both pounce on him.

          Right, on the count of three Glor, we’‘ll shout out, one… two… THREE!”

          #719
          TracyTracy
          Participant

            Becky put the butter back in the fridge and noticed a large casserole dish covered with a cloth. She peered into the dish, wondering what it was.

            Oof! said Becky, wrinking her nose in distaste. It was leftovers of that ghastly reindeer stew that Elvira and Boris had contributed to the wedding feast, made with Al’s gruesome green bacon.

            It’s a miracle we didn’t all die of food poisoning, thought Becky. That batty old crone Elvira was too old to be trusted in a kitchen, anyway. 121 years old, and showing no signs of kicking the bucket yet. Bring back euthanasia, she thought wickedly.

            Oh I don’t mean it really, she said to herself (out loud, in case Tina was remotely viewing her again). I love Elvira really.

            #701

            I must be talking to an angel Yurick thought, as he was feeling the presence of the lady he had seen in his dreams a few times before. Her presence was remarkably soft, yet, she was unmistakably here, like a loving sisterly figure. Yurick could see at times streaks of a shimmering blue-green halo when he was thinking of her, and this morning, walking in the underground corridors, as he was humming and thinking of this angel, his gaze landed on a movie poster, with beautiful women profiles. None of these profiles had attracted his gaze at first, but a name. Salomé.
            Then only, the poster slowly began to unfold itself into focus around that name…
            The women were beautiful and seemed to be like beams of a multitude of variations from a single energy essence, like some traditional Avalokiteshvara (Kuan Yin) representations.
            The title of that movie was “Les Femmes de l’Ombre” (Women of the Shadow), and that “Salomé” he had seen was the name of the director… How interesting symbolic information…

            While she reminded him not of the Salomé of Wilde’s play, but of another biblical figure, the Salomé of the New Testament, follower of the Christ, and likely sister of Mary, Yurick decided he would call that gentle feminine presence “Salomé”…
            A woman of the Shadow. For now…

            #689
            ÉricÉric
            Keymaster

              These are MY eggs! Nobody touches my eggs!
              Oh come on, you’re not gonna make these ostrich eggs hatch Cathy… Better have them made into a nice big omelet for our guests… Fleur said with a tentative smile.
              And why use MY eggs for that?! Moooom, she’s trying to steal my eggs…

              What’s with all that fuss here? a coarse, yet sensual female voice said in the background of the kitchen.
              Mom, she wants to make an omelet with the eggs that granddad gave me…
              Calm down Catherine, will you… Is that true Fleur?
              Err… Madam Wrick, I suppose it was only a stupid joke… Thing is that wasn’t such a bad idea… There will be quite a few guests tonight, and… she began to falter as the eyebrows of Dorean Wrick were taking a more severe look. Err… I’m sorry, M’am, I’ll send Raster fetch some food for a nice meat pie, will it be nice?
              Perfect. That settles the matter then… Catherine, go back to your room, and let Fleur work. I’ll send you a maid to help you be prepared for our guests arrival.
              Yes, Mum.

              What a silly idea Theobald, her father have had, to give her step-daughter those eggs for her birthday… Big funny green eggs. He’d said they were ostrich eggs, but there were no ostrich in Mexico, as far as she knew. Of course, now the little girl’s only idea was to have the birds hatch and to mount them and ride in the slopes of Ireland.
              This family was definitely insane, Dorean was thinking.
              At least, she had thought her own branch of the family tree had been spared by the folly of her relatives and their attraction for occult and intangible things, but with that odd gift, it seemed to her more than likely that her father had followed the steps of his wricked brother… Or perhaps it was only an old man’s way of passing time. But knowing her father down-to-earth nature, that was not like him. He didn’t do things out of a whim, and there was probably more than met the eye having to do with the funny eggs…

              A few days ago, shortly after New Year’s eve and stepping into year 2034, she’d had received an unexpected parcel from her cousin, Sean Doran. A couple of wrapped books, he was asking her to keep in store for him. She always had liked her cousin, though they had only met two or three times when they were children. Thing was, family matters were more a wrickage than anything else, and they had barely kept in touch over the years.
              She had distractedly opened the big ornate leather-bound books only to discover they were blank. What was the purpose of all of this, she didn’t know. But unlike most people, Dorean wasn’t interested in others’ businesses. She would keep the books, whatever they meant.

              And she had more pressing matters now.
              Her guest were coming. Elvira and her demented husband were moving back, and were due to arrive tonight after a rather long expatriation in the lands of Russia. Having met that strange and impressive individual, the perspective of getting away in a foreign land leaving all the past behind, all of this had most probably saved Elvira from her depressive mood…
              But she had been so isolated from her past that Dorean suspected that these almost thirty years abroad would have changed her profoundly.

              #687

              Kay wasn’t sure about what happened after that.
              Akita was laughing, a slow and deep laugh. His face was changing oddly as his energy was generating different speeds and movements.
              And Anita was laughing too and speaking about a big pink pig, melting around Akita.
              That’s when Kay began feeling the difference in energy. The 4 other essences were observing with a strong interest what was hapenning to the man, and other essences were arriving… so many of their attentions here, the place was quite crowded and Kay was beginning to feel overwhelmed. All the surrounding area was oscillating dangerously.
              It was like a hole in the veils between the dimensions, and it was frightening Kay.

              Kay took his decision quickly. He jumped. Bit Akita’s leg.

              The sharp pain was apparently enough to stop whatever was happening.
              Akita was shouting, swearing with rage, and that was familiar and reassuring to Kay.
              Whatever it was, Kay would not let it happen again, and the spiders were not involved. Nothing to do with their energy.

              #682

              Looking at the clearing, where there was seemingly only a little girl on the trunk of a cut down coconut tree, Akita found himself puzzled. A girl, alone, in that dangerous jungle… Might it be a trick from his old enemies? The giant spiders were vicious, and could play some tricks of mind on humans, he’d witnessed before he’d run into Kay, who was granting him some sort of protection. But as far as he knew, they couldn’t do anything that elaborate. They were rather primitive in their projections, and were more inclined to slimy nightmarish visions than cute little dark-skinned girls, however untidy were her clothes…
              Besides, Kay seemed to trust her. And she could see him too. Usually, humans other than partners of spirit dogs couldn’t see them, but at times before they reached puberty, children were able to get glimpses of them, Kay had explained him.

              Apparently either the girl was a simpleton, or she had an impossible chance not having yet encountered the spiders, being as she were, pretty oblivious to what was around her, and speaking to herself or imaginary friends, while fiddling with a small device the like of which Akita never had seen in his life. The thing was making beeping noises much like a radio emitter, and his heart leapt at the idea that she might break some god-sent transponder found in the wreckage from which she surely had been a miraculous survivor…
              Kay, who had been observing and talking to the little girl, came back near Akita in a blink.

              — Don’t worry for that device, it’s just a game…
              — A game? It seems quite sophisticated for a game…
              — It’s my Gamegirl Advanced, said the girl, without detaching her gaze from the tiny screen… But the batteries will soon be dead, she added with a lovely pouting face.
              — Better the batteries than you, retorted Akita. So who are you? You can call me Akita… And I guess you’ve already met Kay.
              — I’m Anita, but everybody calls me Anu.

              She put the tiny thing at her side, and smiled broadly at Akita.

              — Wow, you have such strange clothes, it’s like you’re out of one of those black and white war movies that my father used to watch…
              — No wonder, little girl, we are at war.
              — I’m not a little girl, and I don’t think you’re right. We’re not at war!
              — That was probably well intended of your parents to hide you the truth, but thing is we are. I’ve been stranded on this island for months now with these loathsome creatures, and all I can suppose is that these spiders are secret weapons from the Nazis.
              — Oh, Nazis? Like in Indiana Jones! Anu started to giggle…
              — What do you mean? So you know of Nazis?
              — Sure, my great granddad fought them on the beaches of Normandy, that was many years ago.
              — I don’t understand… Do you have any idea of what’s going on? Akita asked Kay
              — Grwl… All of your human quandaries don’t usually make a great deal of sense to me, if you ask me, but I guess her friends would probably know more…
              — Her friends? You mean, her imaginary friends?
              — Oh they are not imaginary, Anu and Kay chorused.

              — Let me try something, Kay said.

              And the ghostly dog form contours started to wobble like a poked cube of jelly, becoming a single ball of phosphorescent ectoplastic energy that started to rotate around Akita. Akita’s vision, disturbed by the movements started to blink at a more rapid rate until his peripheral vision started to show some distinct coloured St Elmo’s fires. They were four he could count, at least for the closest ones. At time they overlapped, and when he was focusing on his peripheral vision, he could get more and more stability in these visions.

              Kay had stopped, and was again crouched near Akita.
              — That’s all? Akita asked in dismay…
              — Now you know the trick, answered Kay, almost shrugging…

              — It’s really easy, said Anita, beaming at a disoriented Akita. Also… Yuki told me that apparently time is considerably slowed down on this island. And while a month passes here, ten years pass in the world we come from…

              #674

              Dr Bronkelhampton gazed at the impassive bandaged covered face of Sasha Goldenwort propped up in the corner of his office.

              Stupid fool, she said. What a bloody mess you are in now.

              I know, it’s all gone horribly wrong really. What shall I do?

              Sasha snorted. What! you are asking me? I let you perform your stupid untested experiments on me, clearly I am not the sharpest tool in the toolbox. No, don’t ask me for advise, I see my main mission in life, oops sorry in death that should be, is to haunt you for the rest of your sad little life.

              Don’t be hard on yourself Sasha, and in a way you died for a noble cause. Others won’t have to suffer the way you did.

              Oh Bugger off, said Sasha

              Chris? Nurse Bellamy popped her head around the door. Are you busy? I thought I heard you talking.

              Dr Bronkelhampton!”, Nurse Bellamy, please for God’s sake, can’t you get anything right!

              Nurse Bellamy flinched. Dr Bronkelhampton was acting so peculiar, she was worried about him. And It was all the fault of that little upstart, Veranassessee!

              :fleuron:

              Veranassessee wished she had thought to ask her boss to remind her what Plan B was. It had sounded good at the time, but now she found herself somewhat at a loss. She sighed. Sometimes she felt like chucking all this secret agent business in and marrying her devoted boyfriend, Mahiliki, on the neighboring island of Fukitupi.

              Well she was just going to have to play it by ear!

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