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In reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories
“Franiel, dear lad, are you here?”
The voice was sweet yet authoritative.“Yes, M’am. Is there anything I could do for you?”
Franiel had been at the service of Madame Chesterhope for a few moons, but he felt like it had been his whole life. He quite enjoyed the peaceful life at her mansion, which was interestingly only seldom visited.
He was offered food and shelter for his doing some repair work for Madame Chesterhope when she was requesting it. The rest of his time was free, and he used to go wander in the calm neighbourhoor to observe the nature which was so different from anything he had seen before. It was as though the whole countryside was by eerie mimicry perfectly suited to the strange lady with the foreign accent.
The simple work in communion with this nature had streams of words rise inside him like seeds sprouting after a warm rain. He wasn’t sure he wanted to express them however.
He had tried a few times to tell Lydia, but her merciless laughter alone would have nipped any of his attempts in the bud.One of his greatest satisfaction was to go to the ‘motorbike’ and try to figure out its functioning. Lydia had laughed at his stubbornness to try to make the old piece of junk work —by her own words, she’d rather delete the whole thing out of reality, if it was for her to decide. Luckily enough, it wasn’t for her to decide, and nobody else really cared for his attempts.
He wasn’t seeing Madame Chesterhope so often, and sometimes she seemed gone for hexades without anyone being able to tell if she was there or not. She simply seemed to have disappeared.
He had been buggered for a while to figure out who the “Others” she had mentioned on their first encounter were, but apparently, had said chatty Lydia who believed the lady to be completely nuts, she was referring to “TEAFERS” (said in a mock-conspiratorial tone). “Teafers?” Franiel had asked puzzled. “Ahaha, you’re so thick sometimes.” had answered Lydia almost chocking herself into gales of laughter “Thieves! She’s obsessed about thieves! I suspect she’s got some precious stuff she would hate to lose. But believe me, to be as obsessed by thieves as she is, she probably hasn’t got all this stuff willingly given to her…”Anyway, with all that being said about Madame Chesterhope, she remained to Franiel as much a mystery as she was the first day he’d met her.
— “Yes. There is something I’d love you to do, sweetheart. There are people who seem to be coming, and the mansion hasn’t received that many gentlemen for a while, as you can obviously tell. I would love you to assist Lydia in preparing the ball room, and the main hall, do some fixing where it’s needed, that kind of things.”
— “Yes, sure M…”
— “I won’t be there the next days, so be sure to make all things necessary before I come back. I count on you.”
— “Very well M’am.”In reply to: Scrying the Word Cloud
Library ‘light’ words,
Party step ~ hope real.
Knew, done: liked room.
Months dead portal getting human:
Obviously involved!
Wanted:
Away Case.In reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories
From Georges’ account of his first encounter with Phoebe Chesterhope. Part II
She wasn’t paying attention to the other clients. She was like one of these statues at Madame Tussauds, still and beautiful, surrounded by mystery. Was she lost in her thoughts? Her rich clothes suggested that she was fortunate and the anxious look the jeweller was giving her every 2 minutes let me think that she was also quite influencing.
About ten minutes after we had entered the shop with Catherine, a man arrived. Small and bald, poorly dressed, he was carrying a parcel wrapped in a piece of rough fabric that he was holding very carefully. The owner almost jumped on him in his rush and told him something briefly before he introduced him to Madam Tussaud, her face suddenly filled up with life. Not that she was smiling or welcoming him in any manner, but her eyes were suddenly sparkling with determination. I realized that she was taking on herself not to look too obviously at the parcel.
“I expect you have a more private place so we can discuss our arrangement with mister…”
“Fessard, Madam. Roger Fessard.”
“Whatever…” she took her time to look openly at the other customers before she continued, staring reproachfully at the man. “I need some privacy to evaluate what he brought me.”Her accent was almost perfect and her french flawless. But faking to be a stranger myself most of the time, I was sure she wasn’t from here… maybe Britain.
“Of course, Madam” said the owner in his conspicuous servile tone. He led Madam and Roger to a door behind the counter and they entered the room; the bald man put his packet on a table and began to unwrap it as Madam said sharply to the jeweller : “Leave us.” The damn man obeyed and closed the door before I could see anything more.
In reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories
From Georges’ account of his first encounter with Phoebe Chesterhope. Part I
On that bright sunny day of June, 1852 I was impersonating the heir of an American family involved in weapon industry… taking advantage of a business trip for my father, I was enjoying the night life of Paris and naturally got closer to a certain Catherine whose family’s wealth was quite substantial. The first part of the scenario was almost done… I had to make her infatuated enough to make her ask her father to lend me a big amount of money I was supposed to use it as an investment in our family business that was flourishing and quite.
As we were approaching a jeweller’s of the Saint-Germain district, my eyes noticed a woman coming from the opposite direction. Definitely not from Paris, something surreal in her appearance caught my attention. It was not something physical, and it was obviously something I couldn’t name at that moment. Intrigued as I was, I still kept my conversation with Catherine going on. I was quite trained to spot my next preys while I was still playing with the previous one, and with a stranger it would be even easier. She entered the shop.
I maneuvered quite subtly to approach the window without being noticed, and while my companion was raving about some of the finely made necklace and bracelets, I was observing the woman. The owner had made her sit on a chair near the cashier and was bringing her some tea. I couldn’t help but notice how she dismissed him harshly right away after that; apparently he wasn’t the one she wanted to meet that day. The man seemed somewhat offended but soon enough regained composure: there were other clients in the shop and he made sure his assistants wouldn’t daydream unnoticed.
“Do you want to go inside, darling?” I suggested to my mate, “I’m sure the choice is more interesting if we speak to the right person.”
I knew I wouldn’t have any problem to bring her into that kind of place, and the look in her eyes was quite validating. It took me a brief moment and a persuasive tip to one of the shop attendant to explain that I wanted Catherine to choose what she desired. I wanted a fine piece of jewelry suiting her beauty. All I had to do was let the clerk show her different set of jewels and and just look as if it was unfair to her beauty and let her look for another one. In between, I was free to observe the other woman sideways.
In reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories
The 3 ladies didn’t have the time to get prepared as the door was blown open by an explosion, the sound of which made their newly very sensitive ears suffer hell!
“Oh! me god I’m wounded!” Mavis shouted suddenly. “You 2 have to avenge me, I think I’m not gonna make it…”
“Don’t be so silly, Mavis, you’re perfectly healthy! It’s just watermelon flesh! But shush! We’re not alone…” shouted Gloria as the explosion had made her deaf too.
A shadow suddenly entered the room full of vaporized watermelon juice… The red mist was almost opaque and Glo couldn’t identify clearly what it was. A big round head, obviously an alien… but with their new strength and the snet they would put it down in no time.
She jumped on the form and shouted to her companions to throw the snet. As she tried to bite the big rounded head another jumped on her with a gnarling bark. She was projected on the opposite wall, almost knocked out. As the red mist began dissipating, she could clearly see a knocked out Akita with a watermelmet on his head…
In reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories
Everyone had been disappointed that the Day of the Dead Party had been a wash out, cancelled because of the torrential rain. An alternative date had not yet been set for the boulder moving party, and the interior of the mysterious mound was to remain an enigma for a while longer.
Dan had been frankly relieved about the cancellation, preferring to get sodden on the Volderama golf course instead. He’d been delighted to meet Sergio Garcia there, especially as his old friend Juani Ramirez had had a dream several years previously about him and Sergio.
Dory and Becky were disappointed though. They’d both been consumed with curiosity about the mound and it’s blue tiled interior and were eager to explore the inside physically, rather than with the customary psychic investigations and meditations. Never the less, they were both aware that when the time was right, everything would slot into place.
There was much to keep them occupied, what with the time travelling mouse that was camped behind the microwave oven, and the impending arrival of Granny Hill.
Becky had named the mouse Will, short for Will O’ The Wisp, but that was before she knew that he was a time traveller. She left him a variety of tasty morsels next to the toaster, which Will took to his hide-out — Marie biscuits, dried cranberries, little chunks of Swiss cheese, and sometimes an almond or two. She left him a piece of lettuce and two sweet corn kernels once, but he hadn’t been at all interested. Obviously Will wasn’t a victim of nutrition beliefs, and Becky was impressed.Wondering what else Will might like to eat for variety, and because she was beginning to realize that this wasn’t just any old ordinary mouse, Becky sent a message to Dory’s friend Mac Brock, who always seemed to be able to pull interesting information out of his hat. Mac’s wife Wanda replied first, confirming Becky’s impression that this was no ordinary mouse, but in fact contained an energy fleck of Tarkin, the Brocks non-physical friend from the future. Shortly afterwards, Mac replied, saying that Will-Tarkin liked asparagus.
Asparagus! Becky found that quite funny, because ‘asparagus’ had been the code word that the time travellers had said that they would use. She had been looking forward to meeting a time traveller. Little did she know that the first time traveller to come and stay at her house would be a mouse!
In reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories
Inside the cave Malvina was considering to move again.
She couldn’t help but giggle softly at the thought of Arona fulminating at how restless that dragon of hers was. To tell the truth, she was one of high restlessness too. And her dragon, and his offspring were most of the time merely resonating to her high energy. Otherwise, they would be too happy to be left alone to dream in a corner of a cave glowing of glukenitch lights.
Now, she had to wait for Leormn’s return from his little vacation to be able to move swiftly. Granted she could do it alone, but it would be so tedious, with all those eggs hidden in various places. Perhaps she could do with a little vacationing herself. She was thinking, Georges and Salome would be certainly glad to take care of the cave in her absence, and of her guests.
She would go see them; she loved the little Ugling who was growing so fast he would now run in many places and ask funny questions. Vincentius (with the grumpy cat perched on his large shoulders out of reach from the bullying little one) was teaching him lots of things on the vegetation (mostly fungus and lichens inside) and on geology that the boy was eager to learn, with an unmistakable affinity for rocks though. He would be quick to learn how to summon the rock’s consciousness for many purposes.
She almost got lost in the tunnels again. “Someone should get those indications straight, dammit!” she swore as she entered a dead-end. A few turns right, and another left, and she was in front of the painted wall with the ‘PEACE OFF’ painted door. So that’s where they went… the door was visibly shut now…
A nearby snort suddenly caught her attention.“Buckberry? What are you doing here little precious; hasn’t Arona taken you with her? Well, silly me, obviously not.” She added, seeing the floor covered with crushed buckberries juice. “Awww, you don’t even have the appetite for your cherished buckberries…”
Malvina knew of course that it wasn’t the closed door that kept Buckberry here, as he most probably could go wherever Arona was, if she summoned him properly, but it was rather the fact she had left without notice. Malvina laughed heartily “Aahaha, don’t be soft Buckie, she’s probably been tricked by your daddie and your little buggers of brothers, but she’ll come back…”
In reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories
Phoebe was sweating a lot.
Apparently, her dream activity was very intense and the conditions of her guestly detention was quite harsh. A wooden board as a bed, and one of the scratchy kind of blanket, not even a nice color… quite indescribable, actually. But for now, she wouldn’t have time to think about it. Her feverish look and behavior would make them think she was in a bad shape, but it was quite purposeful. Even if they had removed all her trinkets and jewelry, obviously thinking that they were the ones giving her her abilities, she had more tricks in her pocket.
She was looking for something, something that should be in this dimension now. She wasn’t sure where, though and she needed it before they arrived at their destination. Leaving her body and the submarine, she had been aware of some unusual activity around in the ocean. Maybe whales, but they were acting differently the last time she paid a visit to this dimension, and something didn’t seem right. Maybe she could find it out later. She had more pressing things to attend to.In reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories
“Oh My God” exclaimed Bea. “I had a dream about the DOOR!”
“Oh, well done! The question is, did you remember it?” asked Leonora.
“As a matter of fact, Leo, I did!” replied Bea with a happy smile. “As a matter of fact, although I’m not too sure how factual matter really is, but anyway, I did remember the dream, and I wrote it all down.”
“Gosh, up early this morning, weren’t you?” asked Leo, who was sipping coffee at the kitchen table and watching the sun come up over the mountains through the open door.
“Oh I didn’t write it down this morning, silly! I wrote it all down last week.”
Leo placed her cup on the table and rubbed her eyes, frowning. “Wait a minute, let me get this straight…..”
Bea laughed ~ she was in rather a jolly mood, despite the early hour. “I had the dream last week, Leo, but I only just realized this morning that the dream was about THE DOOR”
“So what did you learn about the door, then?”
Bea frowned. “Well I’m not really sure. But it seemed so significant because it was that scary door, you know, the dreams I’ve been having for years about that door in that bedroom that’s too scary to get near, never mind go through….would you like to read it? Maybe you can interpret it for me.”
“If I must” sighed Leonora “You better pour me another cup of coffee then and pass me those cigarettes.”
Leonora read from Bea’s Dream Journal:
I was sorting winter clothes out on an upstairs landing of a cottagey gabled house, and decided to use the upstairs bedroom instead of the downstairs one. The bedroom was a recurring dream one, gabled attic with dormer windows kind of room. Then I saw the door and remembered this was the door I was always too terrified in dreams to open; it was so scary that I always wanted to use this bedroom but never could because of that terrifying door and whatever lay beyond it.“Didn’t you do a waking dream and go through that door?” Leonora asked. “Oh, yes here is is…”
Remembering that I had done a waking dream and gone beyond the door once, I marched up to the door, flung it open and strode through. Suddenly an almost overpowering fear and dread stopped me in my tracks but I carried on anyway.“Oh, bloody well done, Bea! Good for you, girl!” Leonora could be a bit waspish at times, but she was a kind old soul underneath.
It was a bit like a old slightly shabby but once grand hotel foyer, high ceilings (not the same as when I went through in the waking dream, which was then rows of closed doors on either side). The foyer opened out on the left into a large old fashioned restaurant dining room, with one person over on the far side sitting at a table. I carried on straight ahead through opaque etched glass double doors onto an upstairs outdoor terrace. There was a city scene below. On the left was a shallow ornately shaped ornamental pool.“Reminds me a bit of our trip to Barcelona, this does, eh” Leo commented.
“Yeah, I’m sure that had something to do with the gargoyle imagery” replied Bea.
A woman squeezed past me holding a small thick book and I knew she was going to jump off the terrace which was several storeys up. She collapsed into the pool, writhing backwards, baring a flat white breast and dropping the book.“Flat breast, hahah Bea, that weren’t you then, obviously, was it!”
Bea chuckled. “Not bloody likely! I reckon that bit slipped in the dream because I can’t find a comfortable bra lately”
“You and me both” replied Leo. She continued reading from the journal.
I picked up the book, and somehow ended up with two books, which seemed like guide books. I couldn’t hold onto the two books with the creature in my hand, which was weird, like a very heavy small furry grey reptile, or gargoyle.
“Maybe it was a baby dragon?”
“Don’t say that!” retorted Bea, who had a horror of dragons. “The thought did cross my mind too, though” she admitted.
I was holding it with one hand round its middle and the fat grey belly of it was bulging out under my fingers. It was unbelievably heavy for such a small creature and I didn't want to hold it, so I passed it to a boy. (Twice I was holding the creature, and twice I passed it to the boy, but I can't recall the other time)Back inside the building, I followed the boy down a big wide staircase that curved round to the right at a landing below. I started to fall down the stairs and knew it was because of the book that I was holding that the woman had been holding when she collapsed into the pool, so I threw the book down the stairs to save myself, and felt the tumbling down from the books perspective, although I stayed in the same place, clutching the banister.“Well I am amazed that you remembered so much, Bea! Going through the doors and finding the books reminds me of Jane’s Library you know”. Leo was starting to go into an altered state.
“Are you going into an altered state, Leo?” asked Bea. “Are you channeling Juani Ramirez again?”
“The creature, the gargoyle, was representing ‘a different species of awareness, of consciousness’” continued Leonora, as Bea hastily started taking notes. Leo wouldn’t remember what she’d said while she was channeling Juani, so it was essential that Bea record what was said.
“The weight was a marker to help you recall the creature, as well as being symbolic of denseness”
Bea couldn’t help making a snirking noise. Dense eh, she said under her breath.
“The door” continued Leonora “Is a signpost, a marker.”
Just then the phone rang, snapping Leonora out of the trance. Bea picked up the telephone, but there was nobody there.
“Pffft” said Bea.
“More coffee?”
In reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories
“I had an absolutely brilliant revelation last night” Bea was saying “about The Door. Buggered if I can remember what it was, though.”
“Well fat lot of use that is then, Bea” replied Leonora. “Any snapshots? Can you remember anything at all?”
“Well, there was a big pale green patch that floated down, then there was the floating part, oh and all the coloured light flashes…the French girl, the old fashioned scene…..and that weird change of focus, sort of off centre and a bit out of body, with the guy behind my right shoulder shouting HEY every time my focus started drifting back to normal. Oh, and the spiraling part, that was cool too!” Bea was starting to drift off into another world just thinking about it.
“Yes, well, now we know all about The Door” said Leonora sarcastically. “Very helpful, Bea, well done.”
“That’s it!” shouted Bea, leaning forward in excitement. “It’s about blocking energy!”
Leonora rolled her eyes.
“Holding tightly to energy, that’s what the closed door is. I can have an open door, and still be free to create who walks through it. We don’t lock the door here, do we, but we don’t get any intruders.”
“Maybe that’s because we’ve got nine dogs” said Leo. “And anyway, define intruder, in a ‘you create your own reality’ context. What’s the difference between an intruder, and a wonderful surprise?”
Bea was stumped for a moment. “That’s a good question, Leo, we’ll come back to that in a bit, but let me finish telling you this before I forget again.
I used to mentally open a big double door every time I did a meditation or went to sleep” Bea continued “and I havent opened that door in months. Well, sometimes it’s open, obviously, but I dont seem to throw the doors open wide anymore, you know, to other energies objectively, if you see what I mean.”Bea was starting to ramble. “I used to invite any Tom, Dick and Harry to my meditations as long as they weren’t aliens.”
“What about the dogs in raincoats dimension?” asked Leo “What were they if they weren’t aliens?”
“Oh, they were alright, I liked them. Oh you know what I’m like about that other dimensional stuff, don’t get me started on that now. I think occasionally things happen and I get rattled, and shut the door for a bit.”
“Right, so let see if I’ve got this straight” said Leonora “There’s more than one layer to this Door thing because what you’ve just told me is what’s going on in your reality. The question is, what’s going on in mine?”
In reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories
The island had never felt as populated as these past hours. Veranassesee didn’t know really which way to turn, really.
“Gather your wits, V” she told herself.
Obviously, it was a bit difficult, she had a terrible time to concentrate. The past few hours felt like they were stretching on forever in time, for no reason at all?
Take that mmm… wanton memory of the night with Agent Gabriele ; it was still fresh on her mind, and yet, she could hardly tell whether Gabriele was still around in his bungalow, or whether he had left… Feelings of guilt on her part perhaps. Well, it had taken her no less than forty pages… what was she saying? It had taken her no less than forty minutes to come back to him and fall with blissful abandon in his hairy manly arms, and that could as well have been happening two, three months ago for all matter and purpose.
Perhaps that was the work of evil aliens tampering with her mind and memories. Hardly an excuse, she had been trained for far worse occurrences. She had to list her priorities.
Gabriele.
Well, her mission of course. What were you thinking? Now that plan B seemed to have failed miserably, Operation Spider seemed likely to be a total fiasco.
She had apparently lost the item in a purple blood trail, and there was that fishy Jarvis she had to take care of too.
But somehow, if she could get that item back, perhaps she could redeem herself. Or else, dreary Fukitupi and Mahiliki would be waiting for her. Hardly a consolation.Of course, as if to add to the total disarray of her plans and desire to have things neatly organized, the Higloshama gang (that’s how she liked to call the three atomic divas — Mavis, Sharon and Gloria) had once again disappeared from their pods, probably to gaze at the moon in-between a few cyclones… Well, in any case, they would find a way to get back. If pigeons do, why not them?
As for the other patients, the door was closed, and they probably were asleep. Oh, and in any case, ugly-faced as they were, they probably couldn’t get far without triggering a trail of fear howling. She had to admit, she was sourer than usual. Anyway… down the list of problems.
Ah, the doctor of course. Well, he could go to hell, but that would be doing her too big a favour.
The sound of the plane coming to the island drew her out of her calculations. As she was adjusting her holster to greet the untimely airborne visitors, she sent a brief mental note as a leitmotiv to herself so that she wouldn’t forget “find the bee-man, Jarvis, Jarvis, Jarvis…”
And she did right.
She almost lost her composure when she recognized Mahiliki on the plane.In reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories
Bea sighed loudly, and dragged a tissue across her sweaty face. Leonora obviously hadn’t heard her, so Bea sighed loudly again.
What’s up with you now? asked Leo, who wasn’t really paying attention to Bea’s incessant whining.
Oh I dunno, I just don’t know what I want to do, Bea grumbled. My head’s in a fog. I’ve got hundreds of ideas, but I don’t want to do any of them badly enough to even think about starting anything. So then I try to sort a few thing out, you know, so I can bloody find things again, and I just end up with a big pile of bloody miscellaneous. It’s the bane of my life, all the miscellaneous stuff that defies categorizing. I should have been called Miss A. Laneous. I start to sort things out and then I get sidetracked; I never finish any sorting out, I just end up with more and more miscellaneous….her voice trailed off miserably.
Leo swiveled round in the computer chair, took off her glasses and glared at Bea. Bea, you know you always find what you need by trusting that you’ll find what you need when you need to find it. You’ve told me that time and time again. You’ve droned on and on about that, how you love finding ‘just the thing’ and ‘by accident’ and now you’re sitting there moaning and groaning because for some inexplicable reason ~ Leonora rolled her eyes ~ you think that having things neatly ordered would be a better way.
Well, it would be nice to be able to find what I’m looking for, Leo, Bea retorted.
Well if you found what you were looking for right away, you silly cow, you wouldn’t find all those other magical bloody surprises by friggen accident, now would you?
There’s no need to be rude, Bea said sniffily.
Now it was Leo’s turn to sigh. Why don’t you bugger off outside and find something to appreciate, you grumpy old bat. “Oh! look at this, Bea!” Leo exclaimed, “Look what I just found by accident!”
Leo swiveled the computer screen round so that her friend could see.
“Illi sat up and surveyed her surroundings. The sky was a deep azure blue, the sun was making twinkling stars on the waters of the lagoon, a warm gentle breeze rustled the coconut palm leaves, and birds sang and twittered in the foliage. It was indeed idyllic, and Illi decided to simply enjoy it, while her new ideas formed into a reality.
Illi was enjoying a new found freedom in her contentment, in not pushing her energy in frustration, and meandered happily around the island taking mental snapshots of a thousand delightful and marvelous wonders, appreciating even the smallest most insignificant things. Time lost all sense of meaning: there were deep velvet indigo skies full of sequins, and there were abstract multicoloured sunrises and sunsets; there were cottonwool clouds in cartoon shapes suspended on a canvas of blue. It mattered not the day or night; there was no longer a sense of time passing, just a glorious collage of appreciation and beauty.”
Bea read the excerpt reluctantly, and harumphed.
Oh for Gut’s sake, Bea! Leo was getting exasperated. Try appreciating miscellaneous floundering fog then.
In reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories
When Veranassessee entered the room, looking for the guests, she was startled to discover the awful mess.
At first, she thought the cyclone Ycart may have been doing the wreckage, but soon she found out that no wall was gone, so it was obviously coming from inside the facility.
What the…
The super-calculator computer had been torn apart, and the electronic insides spread out everywhere.
The Confregration would be furious that all was left of their precious asset they entrusted the mad (mmm, mentally challenged) doctor to carry out his insane (err… unusual) experiments was a big pile of unworkable chunks.
She was thinking of how she could cover up that mess… given that the doctor was still probably reeling in frilly suspenders and silky dresses, she had time to clean up a bit. The Doc would probably won’t notice a difference, as megalomaniac as he was, he wouldn’t admit that a great part of his strides in his researches on spider genome were coming from the super-calculator…
That nose of a b… nurse Bellamy was probably cleaning up his drool, so she might have enough time to act.Pushing aside a few coconuts, Veranassessee backed away suddenly…
A trail of purple blood now?
In reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories
When Phurt awoke, it was all dark and the soil was sodden and drenched and she was all wet to the tips of her fine black and white hair. Her pairs of eyes blinked as a bright lightening illuminated the whole place.
It looked like a forest, and though everything was silent now safe the sound of the cyclone, she could tell there was water not very far, and that place had all aspects of a body of land surrounded by waters.
Jumping on her fine legs, she took a look around, looking for any clue… where she could start to build her new nest. The little ones would be soon requiring her attention, and she would have to secure a perimeter for them and herself. Who knew what unknown danger was looming in this unknown place?
As if answering her silent question, a thunder rolled into the sky opening it in two in a flash of a thunderbolt, revealing somewhere in the less dense parts of the forest, a protruding tip of what seemed a huge white dome-like structure.
That would be perfect indeed…Coming from it, a shriek suddenly filled her ears, parts of which where so clearly in the ultrasounds part of the spectrum that she could hear it perfectly…
HEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE-ah!
Glo was beaming.
— Aye, I think we got them all the nasty buggers!
— Good riddance! Good thing we took off our clothes, with all that nasty pomegranate juice everywhere
— Odd that those magpies gushed all bloody purple blood everywhere
— Odd indeed, now ye mention it, Sha
— What’s that “indeed” business all about now? Speaking like a bloddy ascended being are ye? Sharon said while readjusting her bra.
— Ascended beings my tits, never ‘ere when ye need them… Now, look at all this purple juice stains now, ruined all our beauty treatments…
— So what we gonna do of this UV lamp now? Sharon asked
— Odd lamp… Looks more a skull than a lamp to me, Sha…
— Yeah, they got bizarrest tastes ‘ere, with that clever doctor…
— Sure, that one obviously doesn’t know how to put lipstick properly, now you say it…
— UV skull-shaped lamps now… Next thing we know, we got magpies’ Bloody Margies
— Bloody Margies! Ya’re so smart Sha, ahahaha!
— I reckon we better keep it safe… Poor Vessie seems to have much on her plate with that sexy Italian… don’t want to make another bloddy blunder …
— Ya’re the brain, I reckon Sha. Let’s find Mavis and have some snacks… That honeystuff in the fridge was sooo addictiveIn reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories
Aum Geog spent a long time seating motionless before the piece of parchment which had just been delivered by a specially trained fincheon.
Fincheons were not particularly elegant, (not to say downright ugly) one had to admit, but they were very convenient, once you noticed that their feathers were a special shining tint of grey which almost made them invisible. They always knew how to fly back, and this one had made no exception.
But it was a bearer of annoying news for the newly appointed Elder of the Monastery who was trying to curb his irateness by staying still.This… he was at a loss for words. Breathe, breathe he exhorted himself.
A few months ago, when he was appointed Elder, his patient work of diligence seemed to have just paid off. He had thought he would be given the keys, and more importantly, the chalice.
But that sly dog of Hrih had decided otherwise. He had transmitted the chalice to that irresponsible and naïve novice Franiel, while giving him a bunch of rusted keys he didn’t give two poohs about.
Of course, it was only a matter of time before he could get it back, all he had to do was to make Franiel uncomfortable enough that he willingly relinquish the ownership to someone… someone like himself of course!
The annoying thing about this damn chalice you see, is that it won’t properly function with anyone else than the rightful owner (except for small uninteresting tricks). Obviously, Hrih didn’t want him to have access to its powers, but that old monkey was now gone, and there wasn’t much he could do about what was going on.In fact, the plan was nearly perfect. Two birds, one stone. Bring Franiel to have some appropriate spell modifications carved onto that chalice, and have him give it back to the Elder, Aum Geog himself.
Obviously, he couldn’t just let go such a precious artifact in the nature without appropriate stealthy surveillance. Thanks to one of his faithful servants, Brother Derwish, he was kept informed of the progresses. A former master of disguises that a other-Worldly experience had him join the orders, Brother Derwish was no short of brains nor tricks in his bag, and that parchment was another proof of it.
If he had renounced to contact Elder Aum Geog directly through the glowing balls, and take the risks of unexpected delays, it was because they were most probably watched and their communication monitored.So here went the news:
SPARFLY HAS MADE CONTACT WITH BIRD OF PREY. EGG DISAPPEARED. NESTING CHANGED TREE. GNAT STICKS TO THE POOH.Brother Derwish imaginative poetry could mean but one thing. Or two perhaps.
The little twit had been watched by someone else who had showed him some of the powers of the egg… err, the chalice. It would have partly activated the chalice, and make it disappear unless its owner needs it enough to have it appear again. Obviously, without chalice, or thinking it was lost, he had changed his course to another place.
Hopefully, Brother Derwish was following his trail closely.If more disastrous news had to come, Elder Aum Geog would have to summon his char of marmoths (big toothed hibernating woolliphants) and go there by himself.
Leonard was content. It had not happened exactly as he had thought, but as he had explained to Malvina, the only wise thing to do was to teach the boy about the powers of the chalice. That would active its self-protective cloaking power, and have the boy temporarily relieved of this burden.
For if he had been entrusted the chalice by the old Abbot, that was surely for a good reason.As Franiel had been moving, Leonard had had Moufle watch over him. Apparently, Leonard and his dog weren’t the only ones on his trail… The wiry gangly tonsured guy clothed in a potatoes sack didn’t seem to be here by chance either…
In reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories
Tina flicked through an old, and obviously well read, hard-copy of Wisp magazine as she waited in the cafe for Becky. Al had just had an article submission accepted in the prestigious magazine, complete with photos of himself at different stages of his experiments. She chuckled to herself thinking of it.
Where was Becky?
In reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories
Sam was having a weird dream in which he was having a romantic relationship with Becky after having influenced Sean in a slippery sleepy slope.
As the vision was developing itself, it appeared that they obviously had loads of children, like 7
Some of them were energies he was already familiar with, some he had glimpsed during Becky’s broadcast the other day.
Some others were newly added to this dimension and Becky and him were gladly offering them an entry point, so to speak… and there was the potential for a few more.
Sam smiled, because in wanting so bad not having these children, Becky were adding more fuel to this probability
no matter who the father was. She may have been struggling with it, but it was one of the main point of her focus.In reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories
It had been more than a week now that Claude had broken loose from one captivity to fall into another.
Not that this gang of strange shape-shifting magpie beings seemed to consider him a captive, rather an impromptu host that they felt obliged to take care of. But Claude wasn’t duped one moment.His precedent prison on Tikfijikoo had been relatively easy to break out from, thanks to that unasked for gift of preternatural strength he had gained from the experiments he had be subjected to. Actually, had he not almost been driven mad from pain, he would have been on the loose earlier. Thank the Magpies for his recovered sanity…
Security on the island facility wasn’t the highest and most difficult he had been confronted to. They seemed to consider the relative isolation of the island and its deadly sharp coral reef encircling it their main asset in keeping their experiments clear from outside interferences.Claude snapped back from his thoughts and gazed fixedly at a tender green sprout at his feet while humming a nursery rhyme. An effective trick.
He had to be more cautious… He knew they could read his surface thoughts…
Apparently, he could come and go as pleased him, but as he had tried to find his way back to the island facility, he had discovered that the landscape was changing each time he felt close to it. And soon enough, he was finding himself back to the hidden settlement. He knew enough to suspect his affable alien hosts of playing tricks on his mind to keep him in check. Perhaps they were even bending space around their settlement, as far as he knew…
Not intrusive, and yet not a very different treatment from the inhumane experiments. Except he had no mummy bandages this time…Know thy foe so went the adage, and Claude was determined to know enough about his new captors to escape and complete his mission.
From what he was guessing, as they had not killed him, they probably would release him (if he was lucky) as soon as their mission would be completed —a mission which was most probably the same as his own. Snatching the crystal skull he knew was there somewhere. He could sense they were after it too.
He was wondering who had hired them to retrieve the thing. Obviously they were not from the common lot of thieves, most certainly not even from this planet, and anyone who had hired them must have been in dire need of the thing.
He had been told by the Baron that the crystals were storing ancient vast knowledge and that accessing it had been only possible since a few decades, actually since the discovery of coherent beams of light (laser). But even accessed, the information stored remained vastly incomprehensible, and deciphering it could take another millennium without appropriate knowledge of its holographic proprieties.
The Baron had told humanity was like a child being given a box of books on relativity… And even the mad transvestite doctor was only toying with the tip of an immense iceberg.Those Magpies were far more advanced, Claude could see it clearly, and he wondered how he could outdo them, if that was possible. Quite frankly he didn’t know why they had not yet retrieved it. Perhaps they were having trouble locating it too…
That would mean he still had a head start, however short.
A faint barking sound seemed to echo in his head… It was apparently coming from… the gnarled trunk of an old majestic tree… Whispers seemed to come from it too, like a child talking with an adult, and whispers around them…
The tree seemed wide enough for him to enter into the biggest crack of its bark…
Could it be one of their secret entrances and exits? There had to be coordinate points were they could get out of this warped space… What was he risking to try?In reply to: Synchronicity
These are quite interesting… The retelling story feels particularly fit, especially considering The Story so Far threads
I also wasn’t aware of the CK(Conductive Keratoplasty) corrective eye surgery with sounds rather than laser methods…
But I didn’t come for that, actually.
I was browsing something totally unrelated, and found a news about the plot of Toy Story 3 revealed by the Wall Street Journal (ref). Something got my attention obviously, when I saw Circle 7 a division of Disney who worked on the previous Toy Story movies before acquisition of Pixar…In reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories
India Louise , standing in the draughty upstairs hallway outside Bill the artist’s bedroom, jumped out of her skin as Nanny Gibbon rushed down from her room on the third floor shouting, OCH AYE THE NOO! There’s a moose loose aboot the hoose!
Nanny Gibbon stopped abruptly when she saw India Louise.
Och, lassie, and what are you doing here in the wee hours of the night?
Er…..India had to think quickly. She couldn’t tell Nanny that she was hoping to tell Bill about the mummy that she and Eugenia had found in the unlocked ‘Locked Room’, so she said: There was a moose in my room! It went that way! she said, pointing up the stairs from which Nanny Gibbon had just descended.
OCH! The hoose is infested with moose! What’ll we doooo?
India Louise looked up at Nanny Gibbon quizzically. What was with all the ‘Och Aye’s’? Nanny was from Brittany, not Glasgow, what was the matter with her? Then India recalled the Scottish Dialect classes that Nanny had been attending…..obviously with a good deal of success.
The truth was that Nanny Gibbon was terrified of mice (which is how non-Scots pronounce moose); she suspected a reincarnational drama involving moose, er, mice, was the root of it all.
India was trying to think of something helpful to say (and congratulating herself on her quick thinking, although she regretted adding to Nanny’s alarm) when a shriek came from the direction of Cuthbert’s bedroom.
Nanny and India Louise raced along the corridor and banged on Cuthbert’s door.
OCH AYE, what NOO? Are ye alright, ma wee bairn? Open the dooor, Cuthbert! Nanny cried.
A pale trembling Cuthbert opened the door. I had an awful nightmare! I was reading our book, you know, the funny one with the blank pages, and I turned into a wolf
Och, there, there, ma wee laddie, there’s nay a wolf in the hoose, it’s a moose!
Cuthbert looked up at Nanny and said, rather rudely, Are you alright? Why are you talking like that?
