Search Results for 'mused'

— The Murtuane seems different than the last time I came, said Salome.
— Yes it is. People are changing it. It is becoming like a planet, spherical in a way. Badul is currently exploring its roundness.
— Hahaha, Badul, yes.

Salome smiled wryly.

— And there are these 2 other potentials, emerging too. The Duane I think is physically inserted already, on the opposite side of the sun… wasn’t it called Alienor last time we came here?
— Hehehe, you’re right… and there is that third planet, the Phrëal… a bit less physically focused. It’s trajectory is quite different from the 2 others. And in a few days it will merge with the Murtuane. That’s the reason of our presence here I think.

Salome looked at Georges, amused. Malvina’s energy was calling them. Tea time.

She was swimming swiftly in the cold water of the frozen zone. Baaneke was quite young by her people standards. She was also quite adventurous though inexperienced. Very curious about the beings of the other side, those who had chosen to dwell on the dry parts of this world. She was quite amused at their clumsiness whenever they fell in the ocean.

She was aware of her flock in the distance. The clarity of the water, its coldness made the clicks and the clacks even sharper. Their language had many subtleties and it was fluctuating with the vibrational quality of the waters in which they were generated. The further you were from the source, the more distorted it could be. Though it was quite precise and with some experience it was easy to focus on the energy and not the translation into sounds. But Baaneke wasn’t so easy peasy with this focus.

Her long body was rather slim and her color was smorgle barnished sand. She was very proud of it, and found herself quite attractive. The young male were often brömding at her… a bit rude, but she was feeling a huge satisfaction

She’d been following the strange floating structures for a few days now. The ancients called them : “sshiieap”.
She was fascinated by the beings on it… they were so awkward and it seemed to her they took great care of not diving into the waters… How odd of them, it was so easy moving in there, more easy than outside where it was so dry and windy.

She was aware of some signal in one of the shiieap, and she was curious about it. It was quite familiar to her.

Tina was sitting in a cafe waiting for the others to arrive.

She was studying the play with a bemused and perplexed expression. Good grief, where was her head at? Not only had she saddled poor Arona with a baby, now she had a hunky nanny to contend with as well.

She had been intending to bring Arona to the banquet in the cave … and had somehow got distracted.

She read what she had written in astonishment “bronzed skin pulled taut over rippling muscles”….. “He came bounding athletically over” …. “deep, melodic voice” …and to cap it off calling him Vincentius!

He didn’t even sound like her type, way too perfect, she mused. Thank goodness Al is nothing like that.

Still, she wanted to trust the process and follow the pictures that came to mind when writing the play, even if she didn’t know where they were going.

Becky was wondering what on earth Finn was on about. Gentle bemused and perplexed voice? Well, fair play to her, thought Becky, if she can here typewriting on a computer screen as bemused gentle voices, she’s a better man than I , Gunga Din……

What did you say your name was again? asked Finn, in a gentle, bemused and perplexed voice, to someone she thought was supposed to be Dory.

The thing is, Dory, George was speaking gently, but was looking pointedly into her eyes as he spoke, the thing is that nobody ever needs any help, as you are accustomed to think of it.

Do you like that line, Tina? Becky asked in a bemused way.

Tina reflected. Well I like the fact that he speaks in a gentle voice like me. Her voice trailed off. However, it’s just that it does sound rather simplistic, I mean …..

Oh thank god, the phone is ringing, I have created help so I won’t have to finish what I started to say.

India Louise and Eugenia momentarily forgot about the gold locket and walked over to the exceptionally long trunk. India dropped the locket into her pocket as she investigated the exterior of the trunk, which didn’t appear to have an opening. It seemed to have been made around whatever it housed, and permanently.

‘How strange’, mused India, ‘it must not be intended to open, ever!’

‘That makes me want to open it’, said Eugenia. ‘Let’s! Let’s open it!’

Eugenia was rummaging in the desk drawers for a suitable tool.

‘Wow, look at this, Indy’. She held a heavy black letter opener up to show India, with an elaborate carved dragon on the handle. The dragon had glittering amethyst eyes, and a serpentine line of coloured stones along its back.

India shivered involuntarily at the sight of the dragon. Horrid nasty creatures, dragons, she muttered, resisting an urge to cross herself. ‘Peace be with you, now bugger off’ she whispered the spell under her breath so Eugenia wouldn’t hear her and think she was a silly goose. Horrid scaley slimy stinky reptiles.

‘You go first, Genie, try and prise the trunk open.’ India didn’t want to touch the letter opener, but she was rather curious about the contents of the trunk.

Eugenia was a strong and capable lass, with a practical methodical mind ~ unlike India Louise ~ and before long the first piece of wood came splintering off.

‘Nice one, Genie, well done.’ India said as Eugenia wrenched off another few planks.

‘Oh MY GOD!’ ‘Jumping Jehosophat!’ ‘What the……’ ‘Holy Moly, Genie, what the….’. After a few initial exclamations, the girls were silent, the hair standing up on their arms.

They were looking down at the shrivelled features of a dried up body, covered in bits of disintegrating faded fabric.

‘A mummy! It’s a friggen mummy!’

Illi was getting bored waiting for Dory under the door on the cave ceiling with this motley crew. Sanso was looking slightly bemused, but smiling happily, as if he was enjoying the company after years of travelling alone. India Louise was yawning and fading in and out, there one minute and gone the next, and then back again. The parrot had flown off to look for Dory.

Watching India Louise drift in and out was making Illi fuzzy. She started to drift in and out as well. She started to piece together the out-bits until they all stuck together and formed a picture.

She was squatting next to a hole, a dry hole in the desert with the hot dry wind flapping her shawls. A boy, her son she thought, was leaning towards her, earnestly talking, and then a decision was reached…..

Then the scene changed and she was in a swirling mist, a pea souper, must be London. Illi’s thought intruded slightly into the scene, making it wobble and the images jumble up. Illi saw a tuppence on a grey pavement and as her eyes rose she could just make out through the mist a sign for an exhibition of artifacts. Illi felt herself drawn to the picture on the sign and felt the hot dry wind and the flapping of the shawls in the wind on her face again. The flapping was getting louder and louder and Illi opened her eyes.

The parrot was back, and Dory was with him.

Fiona had just received another rambling note from Dory, and was feeling rather bemused and perplexed.

Dory’s notes seemed to make less and less sense. The worst thing was that lately Quintin and Yann appeared to be following her lead. Of course she could be mistaken, the difference in language could be confusing things .. and there was all the merging they had been doing lately which meant they usually spoke in riddles. Fiona spoke very little French, just a few handy phrases such as “hello” and “butt”.

But as for Dory …

Fiona was a kindhearted person and tolerant of others. But these tales Dory was spinning appeared to be increasingly bizarre and nonsensical. Endless beginnings which never seemed to lead anywhere.

Am I being too rational? Fiona wondered, always humbly willing to accept her own shortcomings, or “dark corners” as Quintin liked to describe them.

One day, after a particularly outrageous note from Dory about an orgy in her kitchen with 57 Italians she had to cook for, Fiona felt compelled to gently and tactfully question Dory.

You are just out for revenge, Dory had hissed at her. It’s just a dream, I think … hmmmmm or am I a dream … or is it all a dream ….. I will go and ask Archie! and off she had dashed in a flurry of colourful shawls.

Bugger this, thought Fiona. Revenge had been the last thing on her sweet natured mind. With no more housework left to complete, she decided to go for a walk to the nearby cafe to take her mind from all this madness.

Sanso was used to travelling alone. He’d been exploring this cave on his own for several years now, and it suited him, on the whole. No need to confer, or compromise, or rush to keep up, or slow down to let others catch up. He could follow his own impulses without hindrance. He did meet others on his travels, but only at the cave entrances, or rather, the times and places that the cave entrances revealed. He never felt an urge to settle though at any of these places, always compelled to return to the caves mysterious and ever changing labyrinthine tunnels.

The disembodied voices and coloured wispies were always with him in the tunnels. Sometimes one would be louder than another for awhile, then another would assume prominence. The bleakest coldest times were when he wasn’t noticing them; that’s when he found himself going round and round in circles, lost in the maze.

The electric blue wispy had been around alot lately, comforting him with little explosions of pinprick blue lights, and a golden mustard yellow one. English, not French mustard, he reminded himself, although he didn’t think it mattered and wondered why he’d thought it.

Sanso had been almost crawling for some time in a particuarly cramped and difficult tunnel; bent double for most of the time, his back was aching and he longed to stretch out. The thought of going back, retracing his steps, was unbearable, so he continued, and tried not to be discouraged.
‘Find something to appreciate, Appreciation is the key’ the voice of the blue wispy sounded amused, but in a kindly and endearing sort of way. Harumph, muttered Sanso, easy to say! It would help if there was something to appreciate!

Just then Sanso heard another voice, muttering something over and over again. ‘… dragon egg dragon… egg dog egg … dragon dog egg…’ What the heck was that all about?

Ye Gads, how bizarre! mused the soft wet lump, I could have sworn something landed on me. Where did it go?

As Arona put her map carefully away she suddenly realised she was not alone. An odd looking creature was sitting on a rock a short distance away. Arona’s eyesight was not that strong, and she found it hard to make out clearly what sort of a creature it was, but she was amused to notice how it seemed to be talking and laughing to itself, nodding it’s head and sniffing the air. Perhaps it has been taking some of the hallucinogenic plants which grow so abundantly in this terrain, she thought to herself. The creature was now looking to the sky, as though rain were falling, and the sniffing was becoming more intense. How odd, thought Arona, and so convincing was the creature that she looked upwards herself, yet saw only the brilliant blue sky she knew to be there. Poor little fellow, she thought, it has really lost the plot.