Search Results for 'liz'

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  • #7216
    Jib
    Participant

      Roberto sighed and scratched a red patch on his left hand. Spring was here. It was obvious as vibrant lime green leaves had grown on freshly sprouted twigs. If it added a nice touch of colour to the garden, the box trees, lined up on the opposite side of the pool that he had dedicated so much time last year to carving them as birds, elephants and rhinos, had now a dishevelled appearance, and that only added to his despair.

      The lawn was sprinkled with yellow spots of dandelions. Roberto just tried to remove some of them with his hands, but got badly stung by nettles. They had invaded the garden from the new neighbour’s meadow. That estúpido, had said he wanted nature to grow on its own terms, but looking at the result, Roberto thought it was more of a natural disaster than anything else.

      “Don’t get rid of the dandelions,” said Liz. “It attracts bumblebees and wild bees. I’ve heard that we need to save them.”

      “You talked with that neighbour again?” asked Roberto.

      “Dominic? Isn’t it nice the birds are back?”

      Roberto looked at the birdbaths on top of the four Corinthian columns at each corner of the pool. A group of sparrows were fooling around cleaning their feathers. At Roberto’s feet, a hedgehog was drinking in a puddle left by  the 7:30 morning rain, remains of a feast of slugs behind him. Sometimes, he envied their insouciance and joie de vivre. They were content with whatever was provided to them without wanting to change their environment.

      “The diggers arrive around 2pm. Just mow the lawn behind the box trees. That’s where Dominic’s son spotted strange growth patterns with his drone. He said that’s highly likely we have roman ruins in our garden.”

      Roberto wondered why you needed to cut the grass of a place where you’re going to dig everything out anyway. He rolled his eyes, something he had learned from Finnley, and went to the patch of lawn behind the box trees. From there he could see brambles starting to emerge from the thuja border with Dominic’s jungle. Another thing he could not touch, because Liz wanted to have Finnley make jams with the berries.

      #7166
      ÉricÉric
      Keymaster

        Godfrey had been in a mood. Which one, it was hard to tell; he was switching from overwhelmed, grumpy and snappy, to surprised and inspired in a flicker of a second.

        Maybe it had to do with the quantity of material he’d been reviewing. Maybe there were secret codes in it, or it was simply the sleep deprivation.

        Inspired by Elizabeth active play with her digital assistant —which she called humorously Whinley, he’d tried various experiments with her series of written, half-written, second-hand, discarded, published and unpublished, drivel-labeled manuscripts he could put his hand on to try to see if something —anything— would come out of it.

        After all, Liz’ generous prose had always to be severely edited to meet the editorial standards, and as she’d failed to produce new best-sellers since the pandemic had hit, he’d had to resort to exploring old material to meet the shareholders expectations.

        He had to be careful, since some were so tartied up, that at times the botty Whinley would deem them banworthy. “Botty Banworth” was Liz’ character name for this special alternate prudish identity of her assistant. She’d run after that to write about it. After all, “you simply can’t ignore a story character when they pop in, that would be rude” was her motto.

        So Godfrey in turn took to enlist Whinley to see what could be made of the raw material and he’d been both terribly disappointed and at the same time completely awestruck by the results. Terribly disappointed of course, as Whinley repeatedly failed to grasp most of the subtleties, or any of the contextual finely layered structures. While it was good at outlining, summarising, extracting some characters, or content, it couldn’t imagine, excite, or transcend the content it was fed with.

        Which had come as the awestruck surprise for Godfrey. No matter how raw, unpolished, completely off-the-charts rank with madness or replete with seeming randomness the content was, there was always something that could be inferred from it. Even more, there was no end to what could be seen into it. It was like life itself. Or looking at a shining gem or kaleidoscope, it would take endless configurations and had almost infinite potential.

        It was rather incredible and revisited his opinion of what being a writer meant. It was not simply aligning words. There was some magic at play there to infuse them, to dance with intentions, and interpret the subtle undercurrents of the imagination. In a sense, the words were dead, but the meaning behind them was still alive somehow, captured in the amber of the composition, as a fount of potentials.

        What crafting or editing of the story meant for him, was that he had to help the writer reconnect with this intent and cast her spell of words to surf on the waves of potential towards an uncharted destination. But the map of stories he was thinking about was not the territory. Each story could be revisited in endless variations and remain fresh. There was a difference between being a map maker, and being a tour-operator or guide.

        He could glimpse Liz’ intention had never been to be either of these roles. She was only the happy bumbling explorer on the unchartered territories of her fertile mind, enlisting her readers for the journey. Like a Columbus of stories, she’d sell a dream trusting she would somehow make it safely to new lands and even bigger explorations.

        Just as Godfrey was lost in abyss of perplexity, the door to his office burst open. Liz, Finnley, and Roberto stood in the doorway, all dressed in costumes made of odds and ends.

        “You are late for the fancy dress rehearsal!” Liz shouted, in her a pirate captain outfit, her painted eye patch showing her eye with an old stitched red plush thing that looked like a rat perched on her shoulder supposed to look like a mock parrot.

        “What was the occasion again?”

        “I may have found a new husband.” she said blushing like a young damsel.

        Finnley, in her mummy costume made with TP rolls, well… did her thing she does with her eyes.

        #6798
        TracyTracy
        Participant

          “Think, Finnley, think,” Liz grabbed her arm as the bad tempered cleaning lady tried to make her escape.

          “Ouch! You’ll pull my arm off, then who will clean the windows? And anyway you said I didn’t have time to think”, Finnley retorted.

          “You don’t have time to waste on your own thoughts, frittering them away on stuff and nonsense. I need you to think about the new story characters. If we don’t get a move on they’ll get disgruntled and start turning up on other stories, and it’s bad enough as it is.”

          “Not my problem,” Finnley muttered, trying in vain to twist her arm out of Liz’s  vicelike grip.

          “It’ll be your problem if I write lots of big new windows into the bedrooms and you have to clean them all,” Liz snapped.  “I’ve half a mind to write a dust storm into the story.”

          “Half witted mind more like,” Finnley snorted rudely. “Why, so you can hide all the loose ends in dust?”

          “So Finly can find out all the secrets when she dusts.  I can picture it now: All was eventually revealed about the secrets of the mines, when Finly had a jolly good spring clean after the sand storm.  And then you’ll have to think of something.”

          #6793
          F LoveF Love
          Participant

            Finnley had promised Liz she would polish at least one window this afternoon, and, if nothing else, she was a person of her word. It’s a gesture of goodwill, as it were, she thought smugly.

            “Window polished,” she said after a few minutes of haphazardly flinging a cloth at the glass. She stood back to admire her handiwork and accidentally stepped on Godfrey who was buried under piles of pages and muttering something about Liz’s genius.

            “That’s one word for it I suppose,” she hissed at him. “Another word is DRUGS. Now, if you will excuse me, I have to go to my room and  think.” She aimed a particularly vigorous eye roll in Godfrey’s direction. “Wherever I am, I am one with the clouds and one with the sun and the stars you see.”

            “You don’t have time to think!” screamed Liz,  jumping up from behind the  sofa where she had been privately relishing Godfrey’s musings about her genius.

            #6773
            ÉricÉric
            Keymaster

              While Liz’ was playing possum at the mere mention of her mother, Godfrey was burying himself more deeply in the exploration of Liz’ old writing.

              Remembering his role as her publisher did something to him. Somehow, even peanuts didn’t capture his interest as much nowadays, but the exploration of the stories themselves had put a literal spell on him.

              He was for one, marveling at Liz’ capability to jump straight into writing, and especially her early works were quite difficult to understand because of that free-flowing ability, unencumbered by such worries as continuity or even characters consistency. While his own interest was more about providing a finished product, somehow the works of Elizabeth Tattler had defeated every attempts at that.

              What I need is a map… He’d thought. To be able to contextualize a random quote from any of her opus, give it a sense of direction. If we assume the reader is carried into a journey, writing that same journey would require a map of sorts. But the writing are as much about revealing the map, some parts hidden by the relief or terrain, as they are about providing a direction…

              That’s when he looked at his phone messages. 357 unread. Liz’ had been playing with images rerolls in this new app. He sighed looking at the last image. An unexplainable creature and a jelly bean cart in an odd landscape.

              There was no map big enough to contain her genius creativity he reckoned. There was some relief in that too.

              #6739
              ÉricÉric
              Keymaster

                Asked the new whale about Cakletown storyline, from the random quote of the day (#4022)

                🐋 The Whale:
                Ah, the tale of Cakletown and the Lone Chancers of Custard. It is a curious and mysterious story, full of twists and turns. Many lessons can be gleaned from this tale, for those with a keen eye and an open mind.

                One lesson is the importance of taking the time to stop and ponder. In the rush of our daily lives, it can be easy to overlook the gaps in our knowledge or the inconsistencies in our reality. But by taking a step back and examining these things, we can gain a deeper understanding of the world around us and perhaps even uncover hidden truths.

                Another lesson is the danger of unchecked power. The deranged cackler in this story is a prime example of the corrupting influence of absolute power. When one individual has the ability to control reality itself, it can lead to madness and chaos. It is important to remember that power should always be balanced and distributed fairly.

                Finally, the story teaches us the value of teamwork and collaboration. The Lone Chancers of Custard may have been a ragtag group, but they were able to achieve great things by working together and pooling their strengths. In our own lives, we can learn to accomplish more by recognizing and utilizing the unique skills and perspectives of those around us.

                May these lessons guide you on your own journey, my friend.

                #6720
                ÉricÉric
                Keymaster

                  “It’s amazing, all the material we gathered over the years, it makes one’s head spin…” Godfrey was poring over quantities of papers, mostly early drafts stuck haphazardly in a pile of donations boxes that Elizabeth had generously contributed to the National Library’s archives of great works and renowned authors, but mostly as way of spring cleaning.

                  He had materialized some of the links from the pages with webs of purple yarn tied to the wall of the dining hall. It had soon become a tangled mess of interwoven threads that he had to protect from the cleaning frenzied assaults of energetic feather duster of Finnley.

                  She’d softened her stance a little when she’s realised how often her namesake has popped in the various storylines, almost making her emotional about Liz’ incorporating her in her works of fictions —only to remember that most of the time, she’d been the working hand behind the continuity, the Finnleys appearances being an offshoot of this endeavour.

                  Godfrey had almost forgotten he was actually a publisher to start with, before he became more of a useful side-kick, if not a useful idiot.

                  The phone rang in the empty hall. Soon after, Finnley arrived with the heavy bakelite telephone, handing it over to Godfrey unceremoniously. “You might want to take this, it’s Felicity…” she mouthed the last word like it was the name of the Devil himself.

                  “Dear Flove protect us, don’t tell me Liz’ mother is in town…”

                  “Well, at least she has comic relief value” snorted Finnley on her way back to her duties.

                  #6634

                  In reply to: Prompts of Madjourneys

                  ÉricÉric
                  Keymaster

                    The next quest is going to be a group quest for Zara, Yasmin, Xavier and Youssef. It will require active support and close collaboration to focus on a single mystery at first not necessarily showing connection or interest to all members of the group, but completing it will show how all things are interconnected. It may start inside the game at the hidden library underground the Flying Fish Inn.

                    Quirk offered for this: getting lost in the mines of creativity, and struggle to complete the chapters of the book of Story to a satisfactory conclusion.

                    Quirk accepted.

                    The group finds themselves in the hidden library underground the Flying Fish Inn, surrounded by books and manuscripts. They come across a particularly old and mysterious book titled “The Lost Pages of Creativity.” The book contains scattered chapters, each written by a different author, but the group soon realizes that they are all interconnected and must be completed in order to unlock the mystery of the book’s true purpose.

                    Each chapter presents a different challenge related to creativity, ranging from writing a poem to creating a piece of art. The group must work together to solve each challenge, bringing their individual skills and perspectives to the table. As they complete each chapter, they will uncover clues that lead them deeper into the mystery.

                    Their ultimate goal is to find the missing pages of the book, which are scattered throughout the inn and surrounding areas. They will need to use their problem-solving skills and work together to find and piece together the missing pages in the correct order to unlock the true purpose of the book.

                    To begin, the group is given a clue to start their search for the first missing page: “In the quietest place, the loudest secrets are kept.” They must work together to decipher the clue and find the missing page. Once found, they must insert the corresponding tile into the game to progress to the next chapter. Proof of the insert should be provided in real life.

                    Each of the four characters are provided with a personal clue:

                    Zara: “Amidst the foliage and bark, A feather and a beak in the dark 🌳🍃🐦🕯️🌑”

                    Yasmin: “In the depths of the ocean blue, A key lies waiting just for you 🌊🔑🧜‍♀️🐚🕰️”

                    Xavier: “Seeking knowledge both new and old, Find the owl with eyes of gold 📚🦉💡🔍🕰️”

                    Youssef: “Amongst the sands and rocky dunes, A lantern flickers, a key it looms 🏜️🪔🔍🔑🕯️”

                    Each of these clues hints at a specific location or object that the character needs to find in order to progress in the game.

                    #6553
                    ÉricÉric
                    Keymaster

                      Luckily for them, the sand structure with the nearby nests of snapping sand turtles was also a graveyard for the military drones that weren’t apparently programmed to register natural elements as threats.

                      They quickly found four of them who weren’t completely damaged, and with some technical assist from Jorid, Georges was able to repair the propulsion and deactivate the military programs and tracking beacons.

                      Klatu had some ropes in his speedster that they tied to their rudimentary drive and the drones, so they could carry Léonard’s body while he was still in stasis.

                      His vitals were generally positive, and Salomé kept checking on him, while Georges and Klatu managed attaching the odd assemblage of drones to their craft.

                      The ride back wasn’t as bad as the first time, maybe due to the extra cargo that made maneuvres more complex for their green driver.

                      “This is worth the detour. Seems like Klatu really wanted to save time and avoided to show us the scenic route the first time,” said Georges trying to break the tense worried silence.

                      Salomé smiled weakly “Léonard’s consciousness is embroiled into complex thoughts; they have to deal about some threat, the nature of which eludes me for now. It looks as though he’s absorbed some sort of forbidden knowledge, something potentially dangerous,” Salomé said to Georges. “I’m no longer as sure he was imprisoned for his punishment, but rather for protection…” she sighed. “for everyone else’s protection… I will feel better when we’re all back to the Jorid and we can run a full diagnosis.”

                      Georges looked at his friend apparently sleeping, and wrapped a loving arm around Salomé’s shoulder “It’s not going to be long now. He’s going to be fine.”

                      ***

                      “Horrible doing business with you.” Klatu said as they parted, rubbing his hands together in gleeful satisfaction. Whatever the Jorid had organised as a deal for his payment, it seemed the added drones weren’t part of it and came as an extra bonus.

                      :fleuron:

                      Inside the Jorid, while Salomé was setting up space for Léonard and making the preparation for the diagnosis, Georges looked at the tiles board, readying the craft for imminent departure.

                      A new tile had appeared, with a distinct pattern form, almost like an ogee.

                      “Jorid, is this new?”

                      “Indeed Georges, our adventure has inspired me to create new avenues of exploration.”

                      “Oh, that’s fresh.” Georges looked into the shifting symbol at its surface. After it stabilised, he could see there was a sort of spiral shell with forms reminiscent of the mocking turtles peeking out from the centre, surrounded by sand dunes.

                      “Jorid, tell me more please.”

                      “Sure, I’d call it ‘Sandshell‘. Do you want the full curriculum?”

                      “Absolutely, colour me intrigued!”

                      The Sandshell:
                      Function: A reminder of the fragility of our perceived reality and the importance of questioning our assumptions
                      Families: Vold, Zuli, Ilda
                      Significance: The Sandshell represents the shifting and unstable nature of our beliefs, assumptions, and understandings. Like the sand that slips through our fingers, so too can our perception of the world around us be ephemeral and illusory. The image of the mock turtle serves as a reminder that we often live under assumed identities and in a world built on questionable foundations.
                      As advice: The Sandshell encourages one to question their beliefs and assumptions, to examine the foundations upon which they have built their reality, and to search for a deeper understanding of truth.
                      Depiction: The Sandshell can be depicted as a spiral shell with a mocking turtle peeking out from the center, surrounded by sand dunes. The sand symbolizes the instability of our perceptions and the turtle represents the assumed identities and neurotic fairy tales that make up our reality. The spiral form of the shell represents the journey of discovery and self-reflection.”

                      “I love it,” said Georges enthusiastically “can we use it to plot our next course?”

                      “As a matter of fact we can Georges. Let me realign the grid and propose some suggestions. Do you have a seed thought to offer for this journey?”

                      Georges pondered for a while, when the image of the fishboard sprung forth in his mind. “Our little adventure is reminding me of our origins, Jorid —Léonard, working on the fishboard, your ancestor in a way… Us, finding Léonard… It feels like an adventure back to our origins. Can you project a destination on this vector…” then thinking at Salomé’s worried face “… that would be safe for our next stop, and allow us to find help for Léonard.”

                      “Verily.” Jorid answered back. “Course plotted. Please get comfortable until we arrive at our destination.”

                      #6546
                      ÉricÉric
                      Keymaster

                        “A-OUCH!” Liz shouted.

                        “That’s no way to stop my powernap!” she gave a dark eye to the offender.

                        Finnley was standing there, looking cockishly at Liz, “don’t mean to be rude M’am, but since you mentioned the pea-shooters that knocker uppers of old London used to wake up the workers,” she smiled excitingly “I’ve been dying to try.”

                        Liz was at a loss for words.

                        Finnley loaded for a second round with a selection of carefully picked peanuts.

                        “Let me guess…” Liz sighed. “There’s no shortage of ammunitions.”

                        #6541

                        In reply to: Orbs of Madjourneys

                        When Sergio dropped her back at the Flying Fish Inn it was later than Zara realized.  The verandah and reception lights were on but everyone had gone to bed, everyone except Idle who was poring over a pile of old notebooks at a dining room table. “Good day out?” she looked up over the top of her reading glasses and smiled at Zara.

                        Zara returned the smile. “It was great, thanks!  I’d love one”,  she added when Idle asked her if she fancied a glass of wine.

                        “Grab a glass off the sideboard there and come and sit down,” Idle said. “Are you hungry or did you grab a bite in Alice?”

                        “Yeah, I did, thanks,” replied Zara, trying hard not to pull a face at the first sip of the Australian wine.  “Nice label,” she said, “Yellow Trail. I should be used to seeing kangaroos on wine bottles by now” she laughed.

                        “A place called Monte’s Lounge,” she replied when Idle asked where she’d eaten, “A cabaret meets circus theme, not what I was expecting out here.  I met a guy on the trail…”

                        “The plot thickens,” Idle grinned, “Comedy and romance.”

                        Zara laughed, warming to her genial host.   Accepting a second glass of wine, she told Idle all about Sergio.  He was a Spanish archaeologist who had come over to see his daughter in Townsville on the east coast, and had booked a few side trips to see some of the indigenous rock art.  When Zara walked off the trail after she found the compass (and the damn parrot vanished, leaving her alone) she had found herself in a small clearing with high rocky sides. Sergio had his back to her and was photographing the rock wall.

                        “Well, long story short, we got on like a house on fire,” Idle smiled encouragingly as Zara continued. “It’s been absolutely ages you know, ever since I left Rupert, nobody’s really taken my fancy.  Anyway he invited me for dinner and said he didn’t mind bringing me back here later in the hire car.”

                        Zara had another sip of wine, thinking about Rupert.  What a prize twat he’d turned out to be.  Still, the divorce settlement had been good.  He’d seemed so adventurous and just the ticket at first, lots of holidays in unusual places. Bit of a Hooray Henry and a Champagne Charlie, but it had been fun at first. And a tad too much charlie, too. She had been blissfully unaware of politics and conspiracy theories at the time, but it wasn’t long before his views came between them and she could no longer stomach his idiotic and, to her mind, dangerously cretinous beliefs.

                        “My parents are both archaeologists,” Zara told Idle, “I learned a lot from them and always been interested in it, but didn’t fancy all the years of studying, and I really wanted to work with animals.  There aren’t many good paying jobs working with animals though, not the kind of animals that need helping.  Anyway, it worked out ok in the end, thanks to Rupert’s money.”

                        “You must have had a lot in common to talk about with Sergio, then, him being an archaeologist,” Idle remarked and Zara felt herself blush, much to her astonishment.  She couldn’t recall blushing in years.

                        “Yes we did do some talking,” they both laughed and Zara said “I better get off to bed. Thanks for the wine.”

                        Zara had completely forgotten about her friends arriving, or the game she’d intended to play until they arrived. She collapsed on the bed without brushing her teeth and was asleep within minutes.

                        #6535
                        ÉricÉric
                        Keymaster

                          “What was that?” Salomé was trying to get her bearings after they hit the sand storm into a different place.

                          Before the sand storm hit, they got chased by one of the Zathu army drone’s which they tried to shake off their tail, but that was only the beginning of the fun.
                          Coming ominously from afar, a huge wall of sand came toward them at surprisingly massive speed darkening all in its wake. They were about to be hit and engulfed, but that was when all took a turn for the strangest. The dark sand wall suddenly split open, reacting to a sound beam apparently emitted from Klatu’s speedster. After that, it was mostly a blur. They had gone into a sort of shifting sand vortex that had them glide into a series of  sliding slopes with the oddest directional gravity pull she’d experienced. She had to shout a few times “Watch out” when some of the giant sand snapping turtles tried to gobble their ride, but somehow they seemed to have managed to reach their destination —and quite safely too.

                          “Whooo!” Georges was elated at the adrenaline rush. “So that’s the trick our friend had up his sleeve, it seems?”

                          “Silly human hasn’t seen anything yet” mumbled Klatu whose middle ear was tuned into their direction.

                          “I’ve got sand in places one shouldn’t.” Georges said laughing, as if to make the air lighter.

                          “Don’t get me started,” Salomé managed a weak smile. She never was fond of the speed thrills. But when she turned her head, that’s where she saw them —old ruins dripping sand like a streaming source. Down or sideways, she couldn’t tell. The gravitational pull seemed to indicate they were down, but herself, Georges, their pod and Klatu were all stuck on a vertical cliff like geckos comfortably lounging on a warm wall. Down, then it was…

                          It took her a minute to realize Klatu was actually manipulating the sand and the gravitational configuration around, revealing the landscape that was hidden.

                          “Mmmm, dimensional magic…” she remembered the words from Jorid.

                          “Smelly friends of yours inside. Must go quicksy, Klatu can’t hold it long.”

                          Georges opened his mouth, but Salomé elbowed him right away. “He doesn’t mean to pee, Georges.”

                          #6513

                          In reply to: Prompts of Madjourneys

                          ÉricÉric
                          Keymaster

                            Youssef offered the following quirk: “unwilling magnet for talkative people in need of listening” (setting in a ghost town).

                            Setting: A small ghost town in the middle of the Australian outback. The town was once thriving but now only a few stragglers remain, living in old, decrepit buildings. You find yourself in the town square, surrounded by the old post office, the saloon, and a few other ramshackle buildings.

                            Quest: Your task is to find the source of the magnetic pull that attracts talkative people to you. You must find the reason behind it and break the spell, so you can continue your journey in peace.

                            Direction to investigate: Start by talking to the residents of the town, they may have some information or insights on the strange happenings in the town. Explore the old post office and the saloon, they might hold the key to breaking the spell.

                            Characters to engage: The residents of the town, including the old timer at the saloon and the postmaster at the post office.

                            Tile to look for: A silver key in the shape of a tongue, symbolizing the power of speech.

                            Proof of insert in real life: Take a picture of yourself holding the key, and send it to the game master as proof of completion.

                            #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.

                              #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.

                                ÉricÉric
                                Keymaster

                                  Some background information on The Sexy Wooden Leg and potential plot developments.

                                  Setting

                                  (nearby Duckailingtown in Dumbass, Oocrane)
                                  The Rootians (a fictitious nationality) invaded Oocrane (a fictitious country) under the guise of freeing the Dumbass region from Lazies. They burned crops and buildings, including the home of a man named Dumbass Voldomeer who was known for his wooden leg and carpenter skills. After the war, Voldomeer was hungry and saw a nest of swan eggs. He went back to his home, carved nine wooden eggs, and replaced the real eggs with the wooden ones so he could eat the eggs for food. The swans still appeared to be brooding on their eggs by the end of summer.

                                  Note: There seem to be a bird thematic at play.
                                  The swans’ eggs introduce the plot. The mysterious virus is likely a swan flu. Town in Oocrane often have reminiscing tones of birds’ species.
                                  Bird To(w)nes: (Oocrane/crane, Keav/kea, Spovlar/shoveler, Dilove/dove…)
                                  Also the town’s nursing home/hotel’s name is Vyriy from a mythical place in Slavic mythology (also Iriy, Vyrai, or Irij) where “birds fly for winter and souls go after death” which is sometimes identified with paradise. It is believed that spring has come to Earth from Vyrai.

                                  At the Keav Headquarters

                                  (🗺️ Capital of Oocrane)

                                  General Rudechenko and Major Myroslava Kovalev are discussing the incapacitation of President Voldomeer who is suffering from a mysterious virus. The President had told Major Kovalev about a man in the Dumbass region who looked similar to him and could be used as a replacement. The Major volunteers to bring the man to the General, but the General fears it is a suicide mission. He grants her permission but orders his aide to ensure she gets lost behind enemy lines.

                                  Myroslava, the ambitious Major goes undercover as a former war reporter, is now traveling on her own after leaving a group of journalists. She is being followed but tries to lose her pursuers by hunting and making fire in bombed areas. She is frustrated and curses her lack of alcohol.

                                  The Shrine of the Flovlinden Tree

                                  (🗺️ Shpovlar, geographical center of Oocrane)

                                  Olek is the caretaker of the shrine of Saint Edigna and lives near the sacred linden tree. People have been flocking to the shrine due to the miraculous flow of oil from the tree. Olek had retired to this place after a long career, but now a pilgrim family has brought a message of a plan acceleration, which upsets Olek. He reflects on his life and the chaos of people always rushing around and preparing for the wrong things. He thinks about his father’s approach to life, which was carefree and resulted in the same ups and downs as others, but with less suffering. Olek may consider adopting this approach until he can find a way to hide from the enemy.

                                  Rosa and the Cauldron Maker

                                  (young Oocranian wiccan travelling to Innsbruck, Austria)

                                  Eusebius Kazandis is selling black cauldrons at the summer fair of Innsbruck, Austria. He is watching Rosa, a woman selling massage oils, fragrant oils, and polishing oils. Rosa notices Eusebius is sad and thinks he is not where he needs to be. She waves at him, but he looks away as if caught doing something wrong. Rosa is on a journey across Europe, following the wind, and is hoping for a gust to tell her where to go next. However, the branches of the tree she is under remain still.

                                  The Nursing Home

                                  (Nearby the town of Dilove, Oocrane, on Roomhen border somewhere in Transcarpetya)

                                  Egna, who has lived for almost a millennium, initially thinks the recent miracle at the Flovlinden Tree is just another con. She has performed many miracles in her life, but mostly goes unnoticed. She has a book full of records of the lives of many people she has tracked, and reminisces that she has a connection to the President Voldomeer. She decides to go and see the Flovlinden Tree for herself.

                                  🗺️ (the Vyriy hotel at Dilove, Oocrane, on Roomhen border)

                                  Ursula, the owner of a hotel on the outskirts of town, is experiencing a surge in business from the increased number of pilgrims visiting the linden tree. She plans to refurbish the hotel to charge more per night and plans to get a business loan from her nephew Boris, the bank manager. However, she must first evict the old residents of the hotel, which she is dreading. To avoid confrontation, she decides to send letters signed by a fake business manager.

                                  Egbert Gofindlevsky, Olga Herringbonevsky and Obadiah Sproutwinklov are elderly residents of an old hotel turned nursing home who receive a letter informing them that they must leave. Egbert goes to see Obadiah about the letter, but finds a bad odor in his room and decides to see Olga instead.
                                  Maryechka, Obadiah’s granddaughter, goes back home after getting medicine for her sick mother and finds her home empty. She decides to visit her grandfather and his friends at the old people’s home, since the schools are closed and she’s not interested in online activities.
                                  Olga and Egbert have a conversation about their current situation and decide to leave the nursing home and visit Rosa, Olga’s distant relative. Maryechka encounters Egbert and Olga on the stairs and overhears them talking about leaving their friends behind. Olga realizes that it is important to hold onto their hearts and have faith in the kindness of strangers. They then go to see Obadiah, with Olga showing a burst of energy and Egbert with a weak smile.

                                  Thus starts their escape and unfolding adventure on the roads of war-torn Oocrane.

                                  Character Keyword Characteristics Sentiment
                                  Egbert old man, sharp tone sad, fragile
                                  Maryechka Obadiah’s granddaughter, shy innocent
                                  Olga old woman, knobbly fingers conflicted, determined
                                  Obadiah stubborn as a mule, old friend of Egbert unyielding, possibly deaf
                                  #6488

                                  In reply to: Prompts of Madjourneys

                                  ÉricÉric
                                  Keymaster
                                    • Zara completed her tile journey in the tunnels. In RL, she and Pretty Girl the parrot, are headed to Alice Springs in Australia, for a visit at the Flying Fish Inn (FFI). She’ll be the first to arrive.
                                    • Yasmin, still volunteering at an orphanage in Suva in RL, has found a key with the imp, guided by the snake tattoo on a mysterious man named Fred, originating from Australia. She’s booked her flight via Air Fiji, and will be soon arriving to Australia for a few days vacation from her mission.
                                    • Youssef, still in the Gobi desert, has found the grumpy vendor who was the shaman Lama Yoneze and reconnected with his friends in RL. Through the game in the desert, he also connected in VR (virtual reality) and RV (remote viewing) with sands_of_time, and elderly lady playing the game for intel. He still has to confirm his expected arrival to the FFI.
                                    • Xavier has confirmed his flight option as well from Berlin, Germany. He’s planned a few days’ mix of remote working and vacation, but his girlfriend Brytta may still work her 2 shifts, and not necessarily keen to travel in the middle of nowhere in Australia.

                                    They are all enjoying a lot the trail of clues from the game, and expect more adventures to come, with new challenges for each.
                                    As they all make their way to the Flying Fish Inn, they eagerly anticipate what exciting experiences and challenges await them. Zara, Yasmin, Youssef, and Xavier all have unique experiences from their time playing the game and their real-life travels. With their journey to the Flying Fish Inn, they hope to connect with each other and continue the exciting adventures that have already captivated them. They are all looking forward to what is in store for them in the Australian Outback and the Flying Fish Inn.

                                    The challenge gets a level up. It requires for each of them to find or procure a unique object, linked to some of their personal quirks and in synch with the real-life experience and the game one. Provide suggestions for each of them of a very specific object or color or shape, that can be remote viewed in the FFI and that they may find in their RL.

                                    • Zara: A golden compass, symbolizing her love for adventure and direction. It can be found in a hidden room in the FFI or as a unique treasure on a nearby beach.
                                    • Yasmine: A silver key, symbolizing her discovery of the key in the game and her love for unlocking secrets. It can be found in a locked box in the FFI’s attic or in a locked drawer in her room.
                                    • Youssef: A red scarf, symbolizing his connection with the shaman in the game and his love for vibrant colors. It can be found in the FFI’s market or in a shop in Alice Springs that sells unique handmade items.
                                    • Xavier: A black notebook, symbolizing his love for organization and his need for clarity. It can be found in the FFI’s library or in a nearby stationary shop in Alice Springs.
                                    #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.

                                    #6481
                                    ÉricÉric
                                    Keymaster

                                      This is the outline for a short novel called “The Jorid’s Travels – 14 years on” that will unfold in this thread.
                                      The novel is about the travels of Georges and Salomé.
                                      The Jorid is the name of the vessel that can travel through dimensions as well as time, within certain boundaries. The Jorid has been built and is operated by Georges and his companion Salomé.

                                      Short backstory for the main cast and secondary characters

                                      Georges was a French thief possibly from the 1800s, turned other-dimensional explorer, and together with Salomé, a girl of mysterious origins who he first met in the Alienor dimension but believed to have origins in Northern India maybe Tibet from a distant past.
                                      They have lived rich adventures together, and are deeply bound together, by love and mutual interests.
                                      Georges, with his handsome face, dark hair and amber gaze, is a bit of a daredevil at times, curious and engaging with others. He is very interesting in anything that shines, strange mechanisms and generally the ways consciousness works in living matter.
                                      Salomé, on the other hand is deeply intuitive, empath at times, quite logical and rational but also interested in mysticism, the ways of the Truth, and the “why” rather than the “how” of things.
                                      The world of Alienor (a pale green sun under which twin planets originally orbited – Duane, Murtuane – with an additional third, Phreal, home planet of the Guardians, an alien race of builders with god-like powers) lived through cataclysmic changes, finished by the time this story is told.
                                      The Jorid’s original prototype designed were crafted by Léonard, a mysterious figure, self-taught in the arts of dimensional magic in Alienor sects, acted as a mentor to Georges during his adventures. It is not known where he is now.
                                      The story starts with Georges and Salomé looking for Léonard to adjust and calibrate the tiles navigational array of the Jorid, who seems to be affected by the auto-generated tiles which behave in too predictible fashion, instead of allowing for deeper explorations in the dimensions of space/time or dimensions of consciousness.
                                      Leonard was last spotted in a desert in quadrant AVB 34-7•8 – Cosmic time triangulation congruent to 2023 AD Earth era. More precisely the sand deserts of Bluhm’Oxl in the Zathu sector.

                                      When they find Léonard, they are propelled in new adventures. They possibly encounter new companions, and some mystery to solve in a similar fashion to the Odyssey, or Robinsons Lost in Space.

                                      Being able to tune into the probable quantum realities, the Jorid is able to trace the plot of their adventures even before they’ve been starting to unfold in no less than 33 chapters, giving them evocative titles.

                                      Here are the 33 chapters for the glorious adventures with some keywords under each to give some hints to the daring adventurers.

                                      1. Chapter 1: The Search Begins – Georges and Salomé, Léonard, Zathu sector, Bluhm’Oxl, dimensional magic
                                      2. Chapter 2: A New Companion – unexpected ally, discovery, adventure
                                      3. Chapter 3: Into the Desert – Bluhm’Oxl, sand dunes, treacherous journey
                                      4. Chapter 4: The First Clue – search for Léonard, mystery, puzzle
                                      5. Chapter 5: The Oasis – rest, rekindling hope, unexpected danger
                                      6. Chapter 6: The Lost City – ancient civilization, artifacts, mystery
                                      7. Chapter 7: A Dangerous Encounter – hostile aliens, survival, bravery
                                      8. Chapter 8: A New Threat – ancient curse, ominous presence, danger
                                      9. Chapter 9: The Key to the Past – uncovering secrets, solving puzzles, unlocking power
                                      10. Chapter 10: The Guardian’s Temple – mystical portal, discovery, knowledge
                                      11. Chapter 11: The Celestial Map – space-time navigation, discovery, enlightenment
                                      12. Chapter 12: The First Step – journey through dimensions, bravery, adventure
                                      13. Chapter 13: The Cosmic Rift – strange anomalies, dangerous zones, exploration
                                      14. Chapter 14: A Surprising Discovery – unexpected allies, strange creatures, intrigue
                                      15. Chapter 15: The Memory Stones – ancient wisdom, unlock hidden knowledge, unlock the past
                                      16. Chapter 16: The Time Stream – navigating through time, adventure, danger
                                      17. Chapter 17: The Mirror Dimension – parallel world, alternate reality, discovery
                                      18. Chapter 18: A Distant Planet – alien world, strange cultures, exploration
                                      19. Chapter 19: The Starlight Forest – enchanted forest, secrets, danger
                                      20. Chapter 20: The Temple of the Mind – exploring consciousness, inner journey, enlightenment
                                      21. Chapter 21: The Sea of Souls – mystical ocean, hidden knowledge, inner peace
                                      22. Chapter 22: The Path of the Truth – search for meaning, self-discovery, enlightenment
                                      23. Chapter 23: The Cosmic Library – ancient knowledge, discovery, enlightenment
                                      24. Chapter 24: The Dream Plane – exploring the subconscious, self-discovery, enlightenment
                                      25. Chapter 25: The Shadow Realm – dark dimensions, fear, danger
                                      26. Chapter 26: The Fire Planet – intense heat, dangerous creatures, bravery
                                      27. Chapter 27: The Floating Islands – aerial adventure, strange creatures, discovery
                                      28. Chapter 28: The Crystal Caves – glittering beauty, hidden secrets, danger
                                      29. Chapter 29: The Eternal Night – unknown world, strange creatures, fear
                                      30. Chapter 30: The Lost Civilization – ancient ruins, mystery, adventure
                                      31. Chapter 31: The Vortex – intense energy, danger, bravery
                                      32. Chapter 32: The Cosmic Storm – weather extremes, danger, survival
                                      33. Chapter 33: The Return – reunion with Léonard, returning to the Jorid, new adventures.
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