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  • #7326

    Jeezel pushed open the door of her favourite florist The Enchanted Garden. The clear sound of wind chimes welcomed her. An ever changing melody atuned to earth and water. Flucinda was at the counter serving another client.  She might not be of the flamboyant kind but she knew her way with flowers. Her shop was a botanical wonderland, a cornucopia of color and fragrance that would make Mother Nature herself green with envy. The witch took a moment to breath in. It helped her relax a little.

    Jeezel! How are you dear?” asked Flucinda as the client left with his arms full of red roses. “You’re glowing as always.”

    The witch blushed just a little at the compliment. Flucinda’s dark brown eyes were as sharp as those of a silent observation assassin. They darted swiflty over Jeezel’s silhouette, taking mental notes, absorbing the energy, the secrets, the silent dialogues.

    “What do you need today?” she asked.

    “Petals of a white rose, lavender buds and mint. And a few other things.” She said, handing the florist a list.

    “Why don’t you wait in the heart of the Enchanted Garden while I’m preparing all that for you. Water is boiled, I’ll bring you some freshly brewed herbal tea.”

    Jeezel felt grateful to her friend. She sat on an ornate stone bench and enjoyed the soft serenade of trickling water from a sparkling fountain and the symphony of scents — delicate jasmine, heady rose, spicy carnation and a hint of sweet lily. It helped sooth her anxiety. She had received a request on Sponsoreons by one of her fans and loyal customer. Apparently the last full moon had pulled the thread on the tightly knit sweater of camaraderie at this poor soul’s job. There appeared to be more drama in that workplace than at at drag queen bingo night when the last sequin-studded handbag is on the line, and the usual symphony of productivity has turned into a cacophony of cattiness and pettiness. Even the smallest of issues were being blown up like a lip injection gone rogue!

    She had the perfect spell for it: Concordia. Used to bring harmony and peace, smoothing over the ruffled feathers and frayed edges. It was the divine choice for that case. However, such a potent spell was not to be taken lightly. If it was not crafted with precision, intent and a touch of flair, things could go haywire faster than a wig snatch in a lip-synch battle.

    “Here you go,” said Flucinda as she put the silver tray on a smooth rock at the edge of the fountain.

    “Wow! It’s fabulous,” said Jeezel.

    The teapot was a glamour, as opulent as a bejewelled crown. The steam rising from its beak carried whispers of secrets and spells, bringing out memories of rumours swirling around a backstage pageant. It was in another life.

    “Do I smell chamomile, lavender and valerian root?”

    “Yes.”

    Flucinda poured generously the yellow brew into an intricately carved white porcelain cup. Then added in a smidgeon of honey.

    “I know you like it sweet,” she said to the witch before adding a sprinkle of edible silver stars. “Take the time you need. Everything will be at the counter when you’re ready to go.”

    “Thanks Flucinda,” said Jeezel with a smile.

    She took a first sip. It felt like a warm hug in a cup from a dear friend who knows just what you need. And she noticed  a secret ingredient: a twist of lemon balm that gave the brew a citrusy zing. With every following sip, Jeezel felt the anxiety melting away like last season’s contour, leaving her ready to face the spellcasting with vigor and vim.

    #6770

    In reply to: The Stories So Near

    EricEric
    Keymaster

      What satisfying conclusion to this saga?

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

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

       

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

      :fleuron:

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

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

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

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

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

      #5993
      TracyTracy
      Participant

        “Do you think I should go back and get those dolls?” Dillie asked.

        Lucinda hadn’t hesitated.  “Yes. Go back and get them.” She nearly said, and look inside.  “And look for more dolls.”

        Then she changed the subject, not wanting to sound too pushy or eager. Or desperate, god forbid. It was important to ensure that Dilly didn’t give the dolls away on impulse or something, she was like that. Somehow Lucinda had to make sure Dillie would keep them safe and well hidden until such time as she could travel again, but without her having to spill the beans entirely. She decided to play it by ear.

        Then she realized she didn’t remember what the beans were anyway.

        #5985
        TracyTracy
        Participant

          Lucinda had all but forgotten about the mysterious dolls, what with the global events dominating everyone’s thoughts. It was hard to focus on anything else, and even Helper Effy wasn’t pushing her too much to keep up with her writing.

          When her friend Dillie sent her the first photograph of a doll hanging on a tree in the Michigan forest, she’d found it amusing, of course, but had thought no more about it. It was always fun to find unexpected things in random places, but the significance of it being a doll had escaped her notice.

          When Dillie sent a photo of another doll hanging on a tree by a woodland trail a few days later, the penny dropped. Dolls! What were they doing in Michigan? Were there more dolls in those woods?

          Dillie had been tempted to take the dolls home with her, but hesitated. There was something strange about them and she intuitively felt she should leave them where they were.

          Lucinda wondered what to do. Should she go to Michigan? Ask her friend to go back and fetch the dolls and send them to her?  Wait and see if Dillie found any more?

          The dolls looked strangely pristine, as if they’d only recently been hung there. Who had done that, and why?

          #5975

          In reply to: Story Bored

          TracyTracy
          Participant

            Board 2, Story 2

            Lucinda,  worried about what Maeve would think when she found that the magic parrot had turned Fabio into a unicorn, prayed to the blue diamond. The doll behind her kept interrupting.

            Becky was having a strong word with the dragon about turning up in green wearing a waistcoat when she’d specifically ordered a sand dragon, and failed to notice the fox.

            Roberto decided it was time to talk to Godfrey about his piglets, after finding one of them hobnobbing with a suspicious looking character from another story.

            #5735
            TracyTracy
            Participant

              It was a rhetorical question, and Lucinda chose not to answer it, at least not out loud.  Although it was possible for a character to remove their attention from a story as long as the writer wasn’t writing about them,  as soon as the character was mentioned again, they would inevitably be required to participate. Or would they? wondered Lucinda. Who really knew?

              #5692
              TracyTracy
              Participant

                “Not so fast, Granola,” Lucinda spoke the words aloud. “One you are in a story, you can never leave. And not only that,” she continued ominously, “No story is ever finished. No thread is ever snapped.”

                #5662

                Jerk had been tracking all of it. He’d done a nice map of all the location the both of  them had travelled, with little animated pins for the dolls they’d collected.

                It was a bit difficult to get them all to focus, and by them he didn’t mean the pins.

                After Shawn-Paul and Maeve had come back home, their little lives at the building had resumed with some slight changes. For one, he’d finally realized through some fine deductive work worthy of Sherlock that Maeve was the one behind the dolls postings on his website. He was finally sure after a firewall update got her locked out of the website and she requested to get back in. Anyways, that made things easier, although they still mostly exchanged and discussed though the website despite them being front door neighbours on the same floor. But the arrangement was convenient, especially since Shawn-Paul had kind of unofficially moved in with her and Fabio.

                He’d invited them in Lucinda’s apartment to do a little old fashioned slide show  —Lucinda’s apartment was bigger he’d argued; and all the funny collection of paraphernalia she’d gathered on the walls and cabinets tops was always great to set the mood or do an improvised theme party. For sure, it didn’t have anything to do with the fact he wouldn’t need to clean up and push all the mess in the corners of his own apartment.

                Lucinda was all excited. And not just by her new boyfriend Jasper. She wanted to make a book about their expedition, and everybody had immediately rolled their eyes. Books in this century, she must be the last one dinosaur raving about books.

                The slide show started by the end. Where the dolls all ended up finally. La Isla de las Muñecas in Mexico: the Island of Dolls.

                That’s when they were all appreciating the fitting finish line that the door bell rang.

                Uncle Fergus?!” Maeve was incredulous; it was months they weren’t in contact.

                “I’m here for Jasper.” he said ominously.

                #5605

                “You’re right, it’s been a long trip and I need to catch up on some sleep,” agreed Maeve. “Thanks again, Lucinda. Come on, Shawn-Paul.”

                “Come round for lunch tomorrow,” said Lucinda. “I’d like you to meet Jasper.”

                #5604
                EricEric
                Keymaster

                  “That trip of yours was surprisingly, or must I say, suspiciously long…” Lucinda gave them both a long glance full of innuendos, and added in case those were missed “where you on a honeymoon or something?”

                  Shawn-Paul blushed to a shade of violent violet cramoisi, while Maeve just snatched her dog’s leash that Lucinda was handing her back rather nonchalantly.

                  “Oh, you, will you just wipe the snark from your face, it’s making you look ten years older Luce. It wasn’t really a holiday if you must know everything.” She elbowed Shawn-Paul, who was looking vacantly at the tip of his shoes. “Why don’t you tell her?”

                  “Why don’t you tell her?” he replied automatically.

                  “It’s just been 6 months! Why do you make such a fuss about it?”

                  “I’m not making a fuss, look who’s cranky! I can see you are venting your spleen on me after a sleepless night in the plane…”

                  “Haha, yes”, Maeve admitted with a nervous chuckle. “The only thing that matters is we managed to collect the dolls and the keys, just don’t ask me how.”

                  “You know I’ll ask.”

                  “Yes, I know. Just… don’t.”

                  “Fair enough. But it might be tough for me not to ask. I may forget… Besides, I must ask, do you have a secret benefactor that’s funding you all this time? Fabio’s kibble didn’t come free you know, you left me with barely enough for a week!”

                  “Oh really? Dog’s kibble now? Let me make you a check right now.”

                  “I think you need a good night of sleep.” Lucinda winked at Shawn-Paul, “him too. And we’ll talk later. I have tons of things to update you about my theater writing group. You might help me with the continuity bits… Waaa, calm down, no pressure!”

                  #4867

                  In reply to: The Stories So Near

                  EricEric
                  Keymaster

                    As it happens…

                    POP-IN THREAD (Maeve, Lucinda, Shawn-Paul, Jerk, [Granola])

                    Maeve and Shawn-Paul have left the Inn in Australia to travel to Tikfijikoo. What they are still doing there is anybody’s guess. Might have do with dolls, and rolling with it.

                    In Canada, Lucinda has enrolled in a creative fiction course, and is doing progress… of sorts.

                    Granola managed to escape the red crystal she was trapped in, after it cracked enough due to the pull of her friends’ memories.

                    FLYING FISH INN THREAD (Mater/Finly, Idle/Coriander/Clove, Devan, Prune, [Tiku])

                    The Inn is back to its normal routine, after the bout of flu & collective black-out.

                    Connie and Hilda have come out of the mines.

                    The others, we don’t know.

                    DOLINE THREAD (Arona, Sanso/Lottie, Ugo, Albie)

                    In the Doline, Arona has reunited with Vincentius, but is not ready for a family life of commitments.

                    NEWSREEL THREAD (Ms Bossy, Hilda/Connie, Sophie, Ricardo)

                    Sharon, Gloria and Mavis, are undergoing some cool fun in the cryochambers for beauty treatments.

                    Ms Bossy & Ricardo are speechless. Literally.

                    LIZ THREAD (Finnley, Liz, Roberto, Godfrey)

                    There’s always something happening. Listing it is not the problem, but keeping track is.

                    DRAGONHEARTWOOD THREAD (Glynnis, Eleri, Fox/Gorrash, Rukshan)

                    Rukshan is in the doldrums of the land of Giants’, an unexplored parallel dimension.
                    Gorrash has started to crystallize back to life, but nobody noticed yet.

                    Cackletown & the reSurgence (Bea, Ed Steam & Surge team, etc.)

                    Ed is back to the Cackletown dimension after some reconnaissance job on the whole dolls story interference. Might have spooked Maeve a little, but given the lack of anything surgey, have sort of closed this case and gone back to HQ.

                    #4862

                    “Init been quiet as being caught in the doldruffs, my Mavis?” Sha was sandwiched in the cryogenic apparatus like a tartine in a toaster, with her ample person protruding like cheese squeezed in too much.

                    The door flung open.

                    “Good Lord, aren’t them splendigious, those little tarts, meringue and all.”

                    Berenice, Barb’s niece, trotting in his steps, taking her role as the new temp assistant very seriously was about to voice a response that he quickly tutted away. “I wasn’t talking to you.”

                    “Took me a while to find out the thread though, buried through all that poubelle creative thinking and monologues, and bla and bla. Action all gone missing safe for a little excitement in Tik…” He stopped, looking around suspiciously. “They’re here, I know. Stop it, now. Hey. Shut up!”

                    He turned to Berenice. “I wasn’t talking to you. Who are you by the way? Has Liz or Lucinda written you in?”

                    Sha, and Glo, and Mavis, all squeezed in the cryotanks were not wasting a drop of the show.

                    “He’s been acting all strange, since he cracked that red crystal.”
                    “Shht, Glo. You don’t want him to get mad and stop all our beauty treatment. I can feel my skin tighten and dewrinkle.”
                    “T’is like ironing, fussure. Some steam and a good hot iron to remove the wrinkles.”
                    “Ahahah, wrinkles yourself, they’re more like crevices, hihihi!”
                    “But first, nuffin like a ice treatment to tighten the glutes.”
                    “Oh uhuh, haha, she said glutes like a snotty beauty specialist. Next she’ll say we need to do Pontius Pilates…”

                    Berenice couldn’t help herself. She blurted out in one quick sentence “But what are you planning to do with them, Doctor?”

                    He paused a moment his conversation with the invisible guests then turned nonchalently at B.

                    “But just… perfecting them, sweet thing. Oh, and love what you did with the beehive.”

                    #4859
                    TracyTracy
                    Participant

                      There was a lotto think about, and Lucinda was hard at it. At least she was hard at it until she noticed the typo. She kept forgetting about the lottery tickets. This pleased her because she’d heard a popular oracle say that forgetting about it was a good sign of winning.

                      She imagined Helper Effy’s wise and patient (if a trifle scornful) voice asking her if a lottery win would help her writing.

                      It was a good question.

                      #4858
                      EricEric
                      Keymaster

                        “Well, where were we?” Jerk took the articles where he left them when he got up to check the price on one lacking a barcode.
                        The blip blip resumed, with the impatient twitching lady pouncing on the items as soon as they passed the scanning, to cram them into her compostable bag.

                        Days were stretching in ennui, and he started to feel like an android. At least, the rhythmical blips and “Have a good day, thank you for your purchase” were now part of his muscle memory, and didn’t require much paying attention to.

                        He’d renewed the yearly fee to maintain his group website yesterday, but he wasn’t sure why he did it. There were still the occasional posts on the groups he was managing, but the buzz had died already. People had moved to other things, autumn for one. Really, what was the point of maintaining it for 3 posts a week (and those were good weeks, of course not counting the spam).

                        There was fun occasionally, but more often than not, there were harangues.
                        He wondered what archetype he was in his life story; maybe he was just a background character, and that was fine, so long as he wasn’t just a supporting cast to another megalomaniac politician.

                        The apartment blocks were he was living were awfully quiet. His neighbours were still in travel, he wondered how they could afford it. Lucinda was completely immersed in her writing courses, and Fabio was still around amazingly – Lucinda didn’t look like she could even care of herself, so a dog… Meanwhile, the town council was envisaging a “refresh” of their neighborhood, but he had strong suspicion it was another real-estate development scheme. Only time would tell. He wasn’t in a rush to jump to the conclusion of an expropriation drama —leave that to Luce.

                        Friday would have been her 60th brithday (funny typo he thought). Their dead friend’s birthday would still crop up in his calendar, and he liked that they were still these connections at least. Did she move on, he wondered. Sometimes her energy felt present, and Lucinda would argue she was helping her in her writing endeavours. He himself wasn’t sure, those synchronicities were nice enough without the emphatic spiritualist extrapolations.

                        “Happy birthday Granola.” he said.

                        :fleuron2:

                        Another crack appeared on the red crystal into which Granola was stuck for what felt like ages.

                        “About time!” she said. “I wonder if they have all forgotten about me now.”

                        She looked closely at the crack. There was an opening, invisible, the size of an atom. But maybe, just maybe, it was just enough for her to squeeze in. She leaned in and focused on the little dot to escape.

                        #4857
                        TracyTracy
                        Participant

                          WIB (workman in blue) opened his lunch box and unwrapped a sandwich. He sighed when he saw it was cheese and pickle again. It had been cheese and pickle all week, a sure sign that WAH (woman at home) wasn’t giving him the attention he deserved, throwing the easiest thing together day after day instead of planning a nice roast chicken dinner, with the prospect of a couple of days of savoury chicken sandwiches to take to work. She hadn’t even bothered to boil up a few hard boiled eggs for a bit of variety. He loved egg sandwiches. He wasn’t a hard man to please, he ruminated dolefully, chewing the cheese and pickle.

                          He reached for his flask to wash it down with a gulp of tea, and noticed with some surprise that she’d bought him a new flask. His old one had a few dents in the screw on cup, and this one looked all shiny and new. Anxious to wash down the cheesy lump in his throat, he unscrewed the cap and poured the flask over the cup.

                          But there was no tea in the flask, nothing poured out of it. He peered inside and shook it.

                          “That woman’s lost her marbles!”

                          It was the last straw. He stood up, shook the flask above his head, and roared incoherently.

                          “Everything alright, mate?” asked his work colleague mildly. WIB2 was contentedly munching a juicy pink ham sandwich. He even had a packet of crisps to go with it, WIB1 noticed.

                          “No tea? Fancy some of my coffee? Pass yer cup. What’s in the flask then, what’s rattling?”

                          WAB1 sat back down on the low wall and upended the flask, pulling at a bit of black stuff that was protruding from the top.

                          ““Maybe it’s full of banknotes!” WIB2 suggested.

                          “It’s a fucking doll! What the..?”

                          “Why did your old lady put a doll in your flask instead of tea, mate? Private joke or something, bit of a lark?” WIB2 elbowed WIB1 in the ribs playfully. “No?” he responded to WIB1’s scowl. “Maybe there’s something stitched inside it, then.”

                          ~~~

                          Lucinda, where is this going?”

                          “I don’t fucking know, Helper Effy.”

                          “I thought as much. Perhaps we’d better go back to the beginning.”

                          #4851
                          F LoveF Love
                          Participant

                            “I will overlook your whining,” said Helper Effy. “Great job with the action and continuity on your last scene.”

                            Lucinda glowed with happiness. “I owe it all to you, Helper Effy.”

                            This was true.

                            #4849
                            F LoveF Love
                            Participant

                              “I’m not sure this was a good idea,” said Shawn-Paul as the taxi driver sped away tooting and shouting, ‘good luck, you’re gunna need it!’

                              Maeve investigated the gate. “It certainly looks impenetrable … and the barbed wire fence is too high to scale… but, hey, who is writing this? Do you know?”

                              Lucinda, I think … “

                              “Oh well In that case there is bound to be a propeller thingy somewhere and we can fly over the fence.”

                              “Brilliant!” Shawn-Paul rummaged in his duffle bag. “Here it is! A wooden topped beanie! Best thing is, as Lucinda is writing, we won’t even have to explain how the mechanism works.”

                              #4848
                              TracyTracy
                              Participant

                                “If I may be so bold as to say so,” Lucinda said, meaning, ‘I’m going to tell you straight’. “Helper Effy, I think it’s a funny kind of teacher who only tells you what not to do without giving any advice on how to do it in the first place.”

                                #4844

                                “Better,” said Helper Effie. “I think it best not to attempt a sex scene too early on in your writing development. A most advanced skill. I did have one pupil … well you will have heard of her … the award winning writer, Finnley Moose? She wrote the most skilled sex scenes. Incredibly moving and … emotionally raw. The best sex scenes I have ever come across in a new writer.”

                                She smiled kindly at Lucinda. “I don’t expect you to all be Finnleys. Keep up the good effort.”

                                #4840
                                F LoveF Love
                                Participant

                                  “I see you are trying to sexy things up, Lucinda,” said Helper Effy. “Be mindful not to lose the plot in the process.”

                                  Lucinda reddened. “I’ll fix it,” she said.

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