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  • #3891
    ÉricÉric
    Keymaster

      Liz had taken well to her new prescription drugs.
      In appearance, it had seemed to have drained out the inexhaustible source of inspiration that let her write novels after novels. Or maybe that was just due to the absence of Finnleys to take care of the editing.

      In the meantime, Godfrey had worked hard to nurture her back to whatever state she called sanity and suited her best, and gently coax her to resume her former passion.

      “Godfrey, let me retire from writing, it’s too passé.” she was pouring concrete into the silicon molds to make new saint statues. Over the years, she’d accumulated quite a few of those saints and martyrs that she collected (or stole) from derelict places of cult during her travels. She liked to paint them back to life with gaudy colours, mimicking some sort of Mexican style. Sometimes she would dress them, and ask Finnley to sew them clothes and little hats.

      Strangely, getting her out of the hospice had made her want to populate the whole house with concrete clones of those statues. Maybe to fill a void of inspiration ?
      Nevertheless, Godfrey was amazed at her capacity to innovate. Her writing momentum was certainly at a low, but did she channel her creativity in many ways.
      The last batch of Christian martyr statues painted in the many outfits of David Bowie were a testament to that.

      #3782

      In reply to: The Hosts of Mars

      ÉricÉric
      Keymaster

        “Finnley!” Mother Shirley called. “Another brainwave is coming! Put me on speakers.”

        Taking on a dramatic voice, Mother Shirley started to prattle on the microphone.

        My dear parishioners, good day to you! Dramatic news before we engage our Bollothrope Meditation:
        “There is a fundamental change of vibrations. We have to face a destabilization of energies as we know them now. There are shifts to enter into entirely new consciousnesses. All agreements are rewritten. We will have new experiences of consciousnesses we never had before. The world will be joined by new consciousnesses never experienced before. The matrix as we know it will not exist anymore. A totally new bending archetype will arise, a new archetypical bending extraterrestrial energy. The energy of contact.”

        When she got out of trance, she reached for a glass of water, amazed at what she’d seen in her mind’s eye. There was hope for all. She still couldn’t believe in how many shades of blues such salvation came.

        She was still reeling from the high energies when she heard the sirens followed by the mars-shattering waves deep within the ground.

        #3752

        In reply to: The Hosts of Mars

        TracyTracy
        Participant

          Lizette was finding some of the new settlers quite a challenge. All they wanted to do was shop, and the shopping facilities were, well, not quite the Californian mall they were used to. It simply wasn’t possible to “swing by the store” every day for whatever item they decided they needed. Lizette was wondering why they’d come at all. Perhaps the ultimate purchase to amaze their friends had been a ticket to Mars…

          #3641
          F LoveF Love
          Participant

            ”What exactly are you still doing here, Finnley? I have Haki to do the cleaning and look after the baby and Sonia. And what a beautiful job she does too. Without any unnecessary complaining,” Elizabeth added pointedly.

            Finnley rolled her eyes. “And I suppose you expect her to do your proofreading as well?

            “Oh yes,” Elizabeth conceded gratefully, always amazed at Finnley’s perspicacity.

            ”By the way,” said Finnley, ”I know you miss Godfrey but you might want to stop with all the comfort eating. Your bum is starting to look obese.”

            #3488

            “How very strange” said Igor, when they eventually reached the waterfall.
            “What?” asked Mirabelle, who was paying more attention to the parrot perched on her shoulder. She tickled him under the chin. “Who’s a pretty boy then? muah muah muah pretty parrot, where have you been?”
            Igor rolled his eyes at the kissing noises. “Look!” he said, pointing at the waterfall.
            “It’s a fucking waterfall, yes, I see it!” snapped Mirabelle. Finding Huhu had distracted her from the discomfort of hunger, thirst and an aching body, but Igor’s questions brought her back to the reality of their situation.
            Then it dawned on her. The waterfall plummeted downwards, in a seemingly infinite series of cascades and pools. It was impossible to see the bottom with the spray and mist, especially in the fading daylight.
            “But we are still at sea level, Igor! The waterfall should be going up, not down. I mean to say, we should be looking up at the waterfall flowing down. This isn’t making any sense. But look” she said, pointing to the first pool on the right. “There is a little hut there and some people. Fat people.” she added. “I bet they will have some food, let’s go and ask.”
            Igor stepped cautiously to the edge and and peered over, looking for a way down. He looked down, then looked back at the little stream they had followed from the sea, and then back down again.
            “This water is breaking all the rules!” he cried. “It’s flowing in both directions!”
            “Don’t be silly Igor, are you delirious? Everyone knows that water flows downhill towards the sea.”
            “See for yourself then, look!” he put a stick in the stream and they watched it flow gently back the way they had come, towards the bay. “Now watch,” he said, as he tossed another stick over the edge of the waterfall. It quickly disappeared from view as it rushed downwards, in the opposite direction.
            “Where is the source? Where is the water coming from?”
            “Those fat people might know. Have you found a way down yet?”
            It appeared that the only way down to the pool of the fat people was via the waterfall itself. There were sheer cliffs of malachite and rose quartz on either side of the waterfall as far as the eye could see.
            “I think we will have to go down the waterfall itself, Mirabelle.”
            She gasped and took an involuntary step back.
            “We will have to steer ourselves towards where we want to go, that’s all.”
            “Oh no, not me, if you think I’m going to just throw myself over a waterfall…Oh! Huhu come back!”
            The parrot flew down to the pool of the fat people, and settled on a banana tree, watching Mirabelle above looking down at him.
            “Fucking parrot,” muttered Mirabelle. “I’ll clip your wings when I catch hold of you, I swear I will. For your own fucking good! Well?” she said, turning to Igor. “Are you coming or what?” and she launched herself over the edge and into the waterfall, with one thought in her mind ~ the bloody parrot.
            With a great splash, she landed in the rose coloured pool, bobbing to the surface like a cork. Disgruntled silvery fish leaped out of the water, one of them landing on the barbecue. Mirabelle waded out of the pool, oblivious to the fish, and the looks of amazement on the faces of the fat people, and walked over to the banana tree.
            Huhu ripped a banana off a ripe yellow bunch and dropped it, squalking in delight as Mirabelle caught it in her hands. When Huhu saw that she was focused on peeling it and eating it, he fluttered down and perched on her shoulder. She gave the parrot the last bit of banana, and then turned her attention to the fat people and the barbecued fish.

            #3475

            Even two weeks after the escape, she still woke up in cold sweats, haunted by nightmares of being chased down narrow lanes, or driving a vehicle that would only go at a snail’s pace as soon as she tried to drive it.

            “Are you alright, dear?”

            The comforting presence of Robert helped sooth her. He brought her a tray with some lemon and cucumber water, knowing it would help with her sore throat. The artificial air of the Mars colony tended to do that.

            “Thank you Robert,… but you shouldn’t have. You’re not a robot any longer.”

            She still couldn’t believe what had happened. Maybe that was the gift of retirement the Management had in store for her all alone. Unexpected gifts, unexpected islands of solitude —even at the closest to Earth in months, Mars was still 122 million miles from her Russian homeland.

            It was still night outside. There, the days were slightly longer than Earth’s by half an hour or so, but she’d adapted to it rather quickly. It was still much better than the torpor on the island where she would loop on her days sometimes without even noticing it.

            “Anything I can do for you dear?” Robert looked appropriately sorry for her, not too much to seem condescending, not to little to seem not caring.

            “Put on some light music will you. The one from Beethoven that puts me in a meditative relaxation…”

            When the deep notes started in the background, she started to relax. Her throat felt fresh and her lungs appreciative of the oxygen produced by the greenhouse plants.
            Although she resisted slightly, inexorably she felt drawn to revisit the memories of the last day on Abalone.

            It always started with the labyrinth, and finding herself alone.

            :fleuron:

            “Mr R? Mr R?” she called. “Gweenie?”

            The labyrinth looked strangely like the laboratory white walls of the Chinese Robot Incorporated Mission Eternal where she used to work as an intern first, then as a head of research for cybernetics advancements. She was quite brilliant for her age, and the prospect of bringing a golden age to mankind was, at the time, quite appealing to her young exalted mind.

            She knew where to go. She had to relive again that day where she’d thrown away all of that for a life in hiding. The mysterious benevolent messages of the Management had started a few weeks prior, leading her to question the motives of her employer, and realizing she’d become quite attached to her creation. The prototype robot from Project R had shown never seen before reactions to stimuli, and a learning curve that was exponential. “R” was meant as Retirement: retirement of the last class of labor workers, of those delicate works that still required a human touch.
            The Management had led her to uncover that under the Corporation’s vision, the prototype would lead humanity to its doom, becoming irrelevant, a flaw in the perfect design of profit they were looking for. So she’d taken the robot, and made a run for it.
            She wouldn’t destroy it. And it seemed the Management had no intention of her to do so. With the Management’s invisible hand, she’d disguised Mr R as a common robot for elites, and led a life posing as an elite with a secret life of a for-hire spy, heist-mastermind, or ghost executioner of similarly exciting prospects.

            So there she was again. The walls stretching to infinity in an endless stream of rooms nested one into the other, the fear of being caught creeping closer and closer.

            “Stop that. Breathe.” she told herself. She was no longer that young innocent scientist. As soon as her fear dissipated, the rooms stream stopped, and everything was back to focus. She walked to the room she remembered clear as day. Mr R was there, still plugged to the mainframe, with a strange black doctor in a white surgical gown and blue mask she didn’t remember was there.

            “Interesting situation you have here.” he greeted her, snapping his gloves to extend his hand to her. “You can call me René, I’m Tahitian.”

            She could feel her lucidity fluctuating and ready to explode in a multiplicity of scenarios, but managed to maintain her focus. She refrained to punch the guy in the face too, and simply took his extended hand with caution.

            “Congratulation.” he said, beaming. “You passed the test.”

            All of a sudden, she was no longer in the same room. She was in the comfortable B&B of 2222. René was in a sofa, comfortably seated, and they were sharing a drink.

            “What have you done with Mr R?” was her first thought.

            “Oh, nothing to worry about, I borrowed it for a while, there is someone else that needed passing through my maze, and he kindly obliged to help. I will show you in a minute. We had a little conversation earlier on, while you were stranded in your past.”
            “How long was I out?” she asked.
            “Oh, time is inconsequential here, but in your terms, a day or two.”
            “Didn’t seem that long…” she mused. “Where have you done with the others?”
            “Don’t worry about them, they are on their own path. Only one should concern you now. A certain Chinese and very persistent man.”
            “Oh, fuck.” was all she said. “I should have guessed, you’re with the Corporation.”
            “Not at all my dear, you can relax. So as I said, we had a little conversation, and you can be proud of you. This robot has broken through, congratulations. You can be very proud of your work.”
            “What do you mean?”
            “He has developed a personality and a consciousness of its own. It’s still budding, but it’s very strong, and he’s quite concerned over your well-being I might add.” he said with a wink.

            Irina was perplexed at the thought, but although it made some sense at a level, her conscious brain was struggling with the implications.

            “Show me what you have to, and release us.” she said to René, getting up from the hypnotizing warmth of the sofa.

            “In a minute” he’d say, “just have a look at the screen, will you.”

            Then, she’d understood. The guy pursuing her, Cheung Lok was there, trapped in his own labyrinth, trying to catch the robot that always eluded him.

            “He would rather die than let the robot go.” she said to René “we could be here for a while”.
            “Not to worry ma chère, his timing has no impact on ours. All of this happens in the now.”
            “So how this plays out usually?”
            “It depends. In this case, all that matters is what happens when he gets the robot.”
            STOP THAT! You can’t let him take it!”
            “Calm down, the robot will be safe.”

            In the next scene, Cheung Lok was securing the robot, who was pleading with him. “Please! I don’t want to become a hairdresser, let go of me!”
            The appeal seemed to have struck a chord, and some memories of Cheung Lok flashed through the screen, and it looked like as if the robot’s struggle mirrored his own to be his own man, free from the expectations of demanding parents, society, Corporation… Their love had been nothing but control, and had put him in chains. He sobbed, wishing for a new life free of these responsibilities.

            :fleuron:

            Irina awoke from the dream again. The last memories were a bit blurry, but still fresh in her mind. René had granted Cheung Lok’s wish. He was sent back to the Island, losing some years in the process, becoming back again a young adult full of unfulfilled desires, and no memory of his previous mission. Before the process happened, he wished for those who were still alive of his platoon to be given the choice to be sent back home with only memories of the robot and himself being destroyed, or to join him on the island, with a fresh future and memories. Surprisingly, most of them chose the first option. Not everyone was ready for a brave choice of facing one’s own desires and power.

            As for her, René had been kind to offer Mr R a humanoid body before sending them through the teleportation boxes to the destination of their choices.
            Mr R had chosen Роберт (Robert) as a name for his new self (she’d been more than relieved he’d avoided René), and they’d agreed to let the boxes find the most beneficial location for them to go to. That’s how they landed in the middle of the central greenhouse of the main colony, in 2121.

            It was fifteen days ago, but still felt like yesterday.

            #3453

            The mirage was no longer a fleeting evasive picture.
            They could see the pyramid’s top quite clearly, drawing them to its spot. By the robot’s estimation, they should already have reached it two days ago.
            But it stood there, unmovable, and somehow still out of reach, an always moving horizon line.

            “May I suggest a drumming session?” Jeremy asked around the campfire.
            Arona raised her head silently but intrigued. The rude cat jumped on a flat stone and questioned him “What do you know about drumming, young boy?”
            “Well, obviously that place is protected from intrusion, and we have to find the key to its entrance. I found drumming can help align our intents and give us inner clarity. Maybe one of us will find clues.”

            It took them some time to discuss about technicalities, assemble a drum with a piece of Arona’s cape, and silence out their chatters, but after an unmeasurable and undetermined amount of time, they were all drawn into a pridanic journey to the rainbow world.

            When they came out of the trance, Jeremy looked at them, amazed and excited by what he had seen.

            First, they had travelled, guided by a herd of unicorns, to the heights of Karmalott, only to find it deserted, with faceless spirits leaving it.
            When they shared their accounts, it seemed they all had seen in some form, the old City descending, with the wilting beanstalk bearing its weight with increasing difficulty. A flight of storks guided many to a safe place, and they’d seen most people would be fine.

            It was then that they saw the P’hope mounted on a creature flying awkwardly like a bat, descending towards the pyramid. Greenie recognized him and with him painful feelings of betrayal came back. George as well remembered old secrets, and why he was the King, and how his departure had precipitated Karmalott’s fate.
            As for Irina, riding on a spirit zebra, she’d found that people from her past were after her and her dear Mr R, and had followed her on the island. Using the teleporting boxes of the temple could send her to a safe place. Maybe on one of Mars’ posts.
            Arona realized, there was little hope she could claim her bounty, as there was no longer a City to bring Greenie back to. But then, a spirit tortoise showed her the Cup she was promised was lying deep in the underground clear lakes under the temple.

            Jeremy was quick to point it out. “That’s it! The entrance is from below, we have to follow the underground currents.”

            #3450
            Jib
            Participant

              Accounts of the Journey to the Lower Realm

              Eric
              I was at a steppe first, like I was meditating in the desert, then went through a forest entrance, and stayed under a tree. There were lots of sounds and animals life, flapping wings sounds, deers, ants, but the most vivid presence was that of snake, and I was a bit suspicious, but it came back very gently, inviting, and after I recognized it, it made me journey, travelling like a dragon or feathered multicolored snake to an ancient place.
              The snake analogy with shedding old skin comes to mind, after accepting it, it makes a lot of sense.
              I saw green and purple at times.
              I felt a horse too but it was just a hooves’ sound.

              Flove
              I went through the entrance to a cave. I asked my power animal to come. An ancient tortoise came up to me. I asked if this was my power animal but i felt such love for the tortoise that i felt that was my answer. We explored energetically what the tortoise wisdom i need is. I put my hand around the tortoise neck and we swam in the water.
              I wanted to cry, I loved the tortoise energy so much. And the protection of the tortoise shell.
              I saw a snake.
              The horse was the first animal I felt, right as I went in the entrance. I stroked the horse as i went by.
              I saw a unicorn too, [and ]was surprised by the unicorn.
              I didn’t sense many creatures. just the horse, the snake and the unicorn.

              Jib
              First I saw little white skulls, whistling like the shells of the guy in the video.
              Then I become my shaman self and I have my magic cape. I find the entrance [to the lower realm,] which was kind of difficult at first as if there was some distracting energy.
              I finally enter the lower realm and find my horse right away, he’s very excited and I ride with him for some time, just for the pleasure of being with an old friend.
              Then I ask him to lead me to Abalone and show me whatever is interesting.
              He leads me to see an old shaman, man or woman I don’t know.
              The shaman makes me sit in his room and offers me tea, then tells me to relax and wait.
              So I relax and I begin to project to Abalone as the Giant beanstalk, I begin to grow and grow and grow and have the city built on top of me. I am the whole island.
              I have the impression that the beanstalk is in the center of Gazalbion or very close to it
              Then I come back to the place and have the impression the Shaman wants to delay me, so I say thanks and ask my horse to show me the rest.
              We go the the old Temple and I feel that there is something special there, once again he tells me to relax and just allow not look for things.
              So I wait and feel that the time and space is weird that it flows around the stones in a particular way, like when you follow a certain path or corridor, you may go forward in time and another way lead you back in time. If you take a wrong turn you can end up in a loop.
              Then the signal for the return begins, so I go back from where I come from and thank my horse.
              It was cool and fun to be there again.
              I projected at some point to check if everyone was ok, and felt like it was fine.
              I saw a unicorn too.

              Tracy
              That was interesting, about half way through a zebra started follwing me, well on my right. I saw all kinds of animals, but they were all doing their own thing or turned away, except for the zebra, until the change of tempo and then I was swept up in a flock of cranes I think (or herons or storks but I think cranes), but then the zebra was waiting at the top. I could feel his warm muzzle sort of on my right shoulder.
              First was a field full of unicorns on the left but they were just grazing, then a bison head who turned away, then the group of deer I thought, but the zebra walked over to me grazing. Me and the zebra waited for goats to cross our path.
              The feeling of being in amongst the cranes was amazing and the zebra fell back while that was happening, but then at the end he was waiting.
              I was surprised by the unicorns cos I don’t even think about them usually.
              There were lizards sucttlign around under the cranes.
              A couple of times I strongly saw purple and green, and thought of Jib.<i> not really ask [the zebra if he was the power animal] in words, but his presence calmly walking beside me with the feeling of his muzzle on my shoulder was comforting.
              When the cranes distracted me from him he fell back, but he was waiting at the top.
              The cranes feeling was marvelous, really, they were all flapping gracefully all around me on the ascent. So cranes and zebra stand out the most.
              [At some point] I started going down old stone steps, at first me and FP were kids holding hands, with jib and eric behind us, then I thought, wait, I’m supposed to be doing this alone.
              The unicorns in the very beginning were in a castle courtyard type place but they ignored me.
              Then a bison head who turned away these were in niches in the stone walls
              I ended up in a stalactites type cave, but there were mostly old old stone steps with stone walls along the sides.
              There was a crowd of people, well a small gathering, towards the bottom, but they were, er, faceless. Innocuous.
              I am quite amazed at how great that was! and how many creatures actually popped up
              and how the feeling was of the zebra and the cranes.
              The zebra was stoic and steadfast and comforting, the cranes were exhilarating and uplifting.</i>

              #3436

              “Well, that was certainly unexpected!” said Sanso, pulling his pants up. “Now then, back to the revolution. Can you lead me to my three friends?”
              “Hop on my back” replied Lazuli.
              “What again, so soon?” asked Sanso in amazement.
              “When I shapeshift into a donkey!” Lazuli laughed.

              #3377

              “What does it say, Sanso?”
              The four travelers had arrived on the island in patchy swirling fog in a field full of cucumber plants and sundials. The sundial nearest to Sanso had a letter tied to the handle with blue ribbon.
              “If that’s not for me, I don’t know what is,” he snorted, untying the letter as Lisa looked at him in amazement.
              “Really, Sanso, that seems so implausible,” she said.
              “What does it say?”

              bq(Quote).“And we start to hope that if we keep on digging,” Sanso read, “All the way to the core, if we don’t stop, if we perforate the land like a honeycomb, if we make it as flimsy as silk, maybe it will suddenly collapse in on itself. And then, like a tray piled with cups of coffee and cookies that crashes to the floor in a mess of crumbs and glass, it will all mix together.

              The upper part and the lower part will blend. And the rules will change. And we’ll be able to say with a sigh of relief: Here is a piece of sky mixed with a cracked piece of sea; here is Shujaiyeh mixed with Sderot; here is Zeitoun mixed with the Mount of Olives; here is compassion mixed with relief; here is one human being mixed with another. above, and with them build a new land.”

              “Oh my,” said Fanella, “Are you sure we’ve come to the right place?”

              “And an entire people will rise to the surface of the earth,” Sanso continued, “ Pale and faded, blinded by the sun that beats down on the land. And we will stand in silence, waiting for our eyes to adjust to the light. And as we stand there in silence, the fear and anxiety will gradually creep into our heart, that while we were finding refuge in subterranean Gaza, the land above took its own life, was left behind and emptied out.”

              “Gorden Bennet,” said Lisa.

              #3181

              Out-of-body invisible to-anyone-but-spirits Geoffrey was looking amazed at the scene in front of him. He was back in the Chapelle near his body when he witnessed the fit, which translated to him in French like “merde, merde, merdasse, merdum, merdarum” and latin-like declination of the word.

              Some unspoken words of wisdom seemed to superimpose on the scene from many voices which roughly translated as “don’t say poop if you mean to say shit”.

              As an actor, this was easy, he just had to follow the script, but as himself, he often bit his tongue when he wanted to say to Lison that she was hamming up the play just for fear to hurt her feelings being the star of the play (or to avoid creating even bigger bickering amongst the troupe).
              When he’d wake up, he felt like encouraging Francette to be more daring on the stage and let her light shine bright. That should even the odds.

              #3153

              Reginald gaped in amazement at the brainwave that had struck Sadie. Poor thing, he thought, she seemed to have these fits sometimes, where she would hang on a word, frozen in time for minutes, and then resuming as if nothing had happened.
              He snapped his fingers in front of Sadie, but she remained motionless. Pity, he thought, there would be none of the delicious crocodile eggs poached from the Menagerie left when she would come back to her senses…

              #3138
              TracyTracy
              Participant

                “What on earth are you doing?” asked Cedric, watching with amazement as Pseu suddenly ran off towards the piles of construction materials near the Royal Opera House of the Palace.
                “Shhh! I’ll catch you up in a minute.”
                Pseu had received an urgent message from one of the other characters on her chaptershiftwatch, a young fellow in Grenoble called Jacques Coctuit. Jacques, like many of his friends and neighbours, was crouched on the roof, throwing tiles at the soldiers below. When Jacques ran out of tiles, his burning desire for more tiles blasted forth, and Pseu registered the request, and simultaneously broadcast a request for tiles.
                The heaps of doubly fired tiles scattered around the building site of the new opera house would be perfect, and although their disappearance would be noticed, it would not create as much fuss as would any new materials disappearing. Nobody would mind much if a pile of rubble to be discarded went missing. Quickly and efficiently, Pseu teleported the tiles to the roof Jacques was sitting on, who noticed merely that there were more tiles than he thought, and would only later, after the adrenaline had worn off, wonder at how they had appeared in a pile by his side.
                Pseu had one of the tiles diverted to The City as a memento, to add to her collection of Key Incident Link Tiles (or KILTs for short) for the new Teleport Folly at the Estate.

                #3017
                TracyTracy
                Participant

                  meanwhile in South Africa, an alphabet slaughtering surge made landfall, scattering the inhabitants, celebrities and everyday heroes alike. Some suspected the elusive Wordblade

                  “Alliteration ascends the assonance of abseiling abstract aspects of anterior antiquities from ancient altars,
                  Bouldering down blocks of brooks that break the boring & bland borders of bondage,
                  And blinking through bleak and black boxes of brisk bravery.
                  Creeping into crops of crooked crocks with crotches of cockroaches cramming into cans of calamity, the crisp cat crackles the calling.
                  Dreaming of damning devils and demons dancing in droplets of dreary darkness drags the drunken diligence from the draught’s damnation,
                  Even the everlasting ethereal elves ebbed and eased into the effervescent eloquent estate of eternal elitism.

                  For the feeble and fumbling fatuous frontiers, the folly frolicked and fornicated with the familiar friend from foes’ fervent fevers;
                  Greater than gradient grand gestures of gestaltic granite grasses,
                  The gruesome grizzle grabbed the gore by the gripped grunting.
                  Higher than homelands of hands in horizons,
                  Heavens and Hells or Hades hazily hear the honing of the horses and horns-
                  In internal infernos of inflicting infringes of institutional insurrections Interrogations instigated imminent innate innovations.
                  Jacknives of jaundiced and jilted jokers jabbed at the jumping jingles of the jesting jackals that jet over jerseys of jeering,
                  For the Killer Krakens kelp the kites from kids who keep kaleidoscopes of kind and keen keepers.

                  Longer than languid lads that laze in lost latitudes the lieutenant lounged behind lines of lingering losses-
                  Maids mellowed around mazes of men and manners of mad moments and made for mates on mattresses on mothered matrimony.
                  Noisy & never-ending neckties on nests of nicked numbers never nominated the nurses that nosed the nuns for nuns’ nihilism
                  Beyond the Oligarchs of overt operations of obligating omnipotence ostracizing the omniscience & omitting its ownership to the omnipresent order.
                  Pilgrims to pentagons by people from poached & palpitated places of placards of propaganda pondered their positions in this power polarity
                  When quivering quills of quavering queens quelled the quarterly quests of the quaint quarrels.

                  Because roving rivers of raging ravines and raving reviews raced to the rest of the ripped rampant ravages and revelled at the rambling randomness
                  Structured subsiding and subsidized societies should string the strongholds of the supreme sultans of seeded senses.
                  Taking the trusty treaty the trussed toppled truants took the trickling ticking of time to the tables of trampled trees of timber,
                  For under the ubiquitous umbilical umbrellas of ultra-sounds from upper-level ulcers underground underworlds underestimated the union.

                  Vivid visions of voracious vampires of vexing vacuum vortexes vilified the vindicated vindictives from the violent vapid vanity
                  While wild & wily whiskers of whispered whisky whisked the wailing widows
                  From the wells of wanting when the wanton warriors walked on waters.
                  Yards of years of yearning the yesterday’s yonder yarns of yellow yolk yawned Into the youth’s yoked yams
                  For zigzags of zapped zebras to zip the zest in zealous zones.”

                  #3015
                  TracyTracy
                  Participant

                    Much to Pearls amazement the celebrity surge mania that had taken hold of the lower ranks of the surge teams assistants was starting to infest the higher ranks as well. In fact it had started to infect the celebrities themselves, as well as the royal families of several European and Middle Eastern countries. Celebrity mania had surged with an unholy vengeance just after lightning struck the Vatican, when the pope was led away in handcuffs the previous month. Royal princesses, not satisfied with the rank of just one position, recklessly started claiming the lives of feckless celebrities as their own. Celebrities started insisiting that they were directing Directors, and informing cameramen that they were a focus of theirs too. The cameramen wondered whether they even knew what P mode was, and who was in charge now anyway. The King of Spain decided to claim Madonna as his own, and refuted Lady Ga Ga’s claim that she was in fact directing him. A Pointless TV quiz contestant claimed to be directing Stephen Fry, which was clearly rubbish; many dismissed the claim as distorted.

                    #2877
                    TracyTracy
                    Participant

                      “But Pearl” asked young Frank Lee Wright, “You’re asking the impossible! How can we divert and diffuse the surges at the same time as kidnapping Ed Steam? Surely the energy projection required would be too contradictory?”

                      “Ahhhh!” replied Pearl with a wise looking eyebrow wiggle. “This is a clue already, did you notice that sign that just flashed up saying “draft saved at 4:44”? Never forget all is in alignment, and we have non physical friends on the case.”

                      “But Pearl” replied Frankie, “How is that of any practical use?”

                      “Ahhhh! You will be amazed at the simplicity of my plan, young man. We will divert a surge in the direction of Ed Steam. Ed Steams own impetus will be his downfall. Think Aikido!”

                      #2838

                      In reply to: Tales of Tw’Elves

                      TracyTracy
                      Participant

                        The old man screeched to a halt, his car fishtailing wildly. His bad tempered frown at the slow moving traffic morphed in an instant into slack jawed eye popping amazement. The road had literally disappeared into an enormous hole. Good Lord! he shouted. Although he wasn’t a religious man he considered himself to be a gentleman, and didn’t swear in front of his wife. What the dickens is that? he asked her, but she was speechless with shock. The sports car they had been following, and the unmarked bus in front of it that had been holding the traffic up were nowhere to be seen.

                        ~~

                        Connie Leadbetter was nervous. It was her first date with Chad Pickins and the first time she’d been in his flashy sports car. They were on their way to a festival in Hot Springs to celebrate the magic of nature, oddly enough. Connie’s nervousness had manifested itself as a digestive system upset, and to her horror, she farted and followed through on the soft pink leather seat of Chad’s car. Mortified, she passionately wished that the ground would open and swallow her up.

                        ~~

                        The Tw’Elves, who weren’t allowed to talk on the bus, were busy discussing their situation telepathically. The previous week they had been arrested by Homeland Security as a threat to the nation, and were being transported to a detention camp in North Dakota. This eventuality wasn’t really part of their plan, but as so often happens, it slotted in nicely, albeit unexpectedly, with the Perforation Plans. Sink Holes had been appearing for some time in the middle of the north American continent, neatly following a north south line, stretching from Hudson Bay to the Gulf of Mexico, so the Tw’Elves mentally punched another hole in the perforation line to fascilitate their exit from the doomed bodies they were wearing at the time. Thus, the separation of the two halves of the continent came one hole closer to fruition.

                        ~~

                        The Energy Leprechaun gave himself a cake for another splendid synchronicity, seamlessly connecting Connie’s wish with the intention of the Tw’Elves.

                        #2476
                        ÉricÉric
                        Keymaster

                          There, at the special bodies event, a big spiritism session was organised.
                          Through one of the old bodies of wisdom, came forth the great Forehead of Mazelduk, eager to converse with the lowly bodies and impart its knowledge of the great things bodies couldn’t fathom.
                          Such thing was, for instance, that bodies of sweet Peasland did not need to wait for the coming of the alien bodies (the alien bodies would be easily recognizable, as they were shaped as pears). Peasland bodies could very much so start to contact them, on their own —and even better, with a bit of luck, hope for successfully abducting some of them.
                          Such was the grand wisdom of the Forehead.

                          #2459

                          The ice is melting,
                          That tart won’t rise,
                          We’d better off meringuing
                          To get off this maze

                          All the others were flabergasted at all the (seeming yet inspired) nonsense Doily would speak by the minute.

                          They had to admit her Porette syndrome if not getting worse everyday, was making her do the oddest things.

                          #2652

                          In reply to: Strings of Nines

                          TracyTracy
                          Participant

                            “We walk, Ia’eh and Minkah, Desher and I,” Elizabeth read the email from Hypatia, “ towards the dark ridge of stone where the books lie hidden, awaiting the day they should be found again…..When Cleopatra ruled, the books numbered 400,000…and this, I think, is true. By the time of Theon of Alexandria, an age in which the books were no loner in the Great Library of the Palace of the Ptolemies, which was also no longer, but housed instead the “daughter” library of the Serapeum, they numbered 360,000. Those lost to the Bishop of Theophilus amounted to a tenth of these. But no matter if full half were lost, that Minkah brought out from Alexandria so many amazed me then; it amazes me still. He not only carried them here, but brought back an account of where each cave was sited, and which jars were placed in which cave.”

                            “Godfrey, didn’t we know a Minky once, who was a sort of a servant?”

                            “We did indeed, Liz, you were the one who inserted him into the story, surely you remember?”

                            “Well, the name rings a bell, Godfrey, but where did we meet him?”

                            Godfrey snapped his fingers and as if by magic, an excerpt from the Reality Play appeared:

                            “Just then a funny little man with a huge cheeky grin appeared and held out a tray. Smoothies! Coconut and berry smoothies, and pink cakes, croissants”

                            “Croissants!” interrupted Elizabeth.

                            “… and oranges, and a box of cadbury’s chocolates…”

                            “Don’t remind me about Cadbury’s” groaned Elizabeth. “I simply can’t bear it that they’ve blinked into another dimension”

                            Godfrey continued: “ Dory slurped and munched and gobbled and slurped some more, and underneath where the chocolate was, she saw a brochure.
                            On the front cover was a picture of a cave. OOHH A CAVE! Dory loved caves! Let’s go to the cave today, Minky! she said to the funny fellow with the impish grin. Minky winked.”

                            “He was going to take Dory to the caves!” Elizabeth exclaimed. “Why didn’t I finish that story thread!”

                            “There’s no need to wring your hands like that, Liz” said Godfrey soothingly. “You can continue it now!”

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