Search Results for 'others'

Forums Search Search Results for 'others'

Viewing 20 results - 301 through 320 (of 558 total)
  • Author
    Search Results
  • #3374
    Jib
    Participant

      Amber Graystone was dead. Killed by a bunch of masked men. Linda Pol would be dead also if it weren’t for Mr Graystone, whatever his firstname was. That man knows how to use his gun, she thought. Too bad he was caught by surprise. He managed to kill the three men before they could hurt anybody, but it seemed they had gotten to their main target anyway.

      “They tried a car incident, poison. I thought I could protect her”, the man was holding his wife, tears in his voice. She had been shot in the head. One clean wound meant to kill. Linda Pol didn’t want to state the obvious, they were professionals. A vibration in her purse signaled a message on her e-zapper.

      Sorry for the glitch. It seems the Chinese have found a way to cloak themselves from our surveillance. Retrieve the data from the husband. The Management
      The queen began to wonder if they were the network management after all. Why would a TV network have a surveillance system and warn them about the Chinese ? Why would they send her meet a random scientist in Hawai’i ?

      While Mr Graystone was grieving his wife, Linda Pol took the liberty to remove the masks of the dead squad. The Chinese indeed. Nothing that could be useful, they all looked the same for her.

      She received another message.
      Move quick. Others are coming. The Management

      “You know”, she said aloud, “I think we should move.”
      “I can’t leave my wife here.”
      “I know, sweetie. But I think she’s already gone. And I fear those men are not be the only ones after your wife’s secret. Do you have any idea how we can get out discretly ?”

      A buzz from her e-zapper told her she just got her answer.

      #3373

      Jeremy was close to the safe house, in the past…
      He had to warn the others, and better hurry, as Max was usually sick travelling through vortices.

      #3349
      TracyTracy
      Participant

        The Continuing Adventures of the Three Time Traveling Maids From Versailles.

        The three maids, Fanella (previously known, briefly, as Fanetta), Mirabelle, and Adeline and the three time travelling Russian stage hands, Igor Popinkin, Boris and Ivan, leave Paris in the 18th century via hot air balloon, heading for the Tower of Hercules on the Galician Coast, with Mirabelle’s parrot. Sporadically they are assisted by Pseu Dan, a cross between a sort of oversoul 8 and a future focus with cloaking abilities and other skills, who tends to be unreliable due to a fixation on building a folly of tiles in the City.
        After a series of mishaps attempting to board the ghost galleon of Belen, an Amazonian shapeshifting timetravelling pink dolphin pod comes to their rescue, and they find themselves washed up on a beach near the Pillars of Hercules (Spanish side) in the year 2020 and are found by Lisa, a middle aged Englishwoman. She takes the six timetravellers back to her village, an experimental new kind of community in the orange groves not far from the beach.
        Jack is Lisa’s partner, and other inhabitants of the village include Etienne and Pierre.

        Mirabelle and Igor continue an on/off tempestuous affair, Mirabelle often considering Igor (somewhat unfairly) a feckless whoremongering cretin. Igor considers himself to be an average adventurous funloving young man willing to explore new opportunities.
        Mirabelle, once considered to be the bossiest of the three maids, finds she has no need to control the others in the absence of the responsibilities of working long hours for others at Versaille. Initially she struggled with learning the new languages, but was easily diverted from the worry and thus learned with ease, after the unexpected trip to Portugal (looking for the stolen whale tile) with Lisa. Lisa finds herself strangely attracted to Mirabelle while under the influence of sangria.

        Adeline settled into the new timeframe by pursuing her fascination with the unfamiliar multitude of coloured plastic objects, making them into sculptures. She and Boris have an easy ongoing friendship; Boris and Ivan settle into life at the village by taking an interest in car and tractor mechanics and farming, and digital photography.

        Fanella was the most unsettled, yearning to return to the familiar hometimezone in Versaille. She found peace in solitude outside in natural surroundings, often practicing teleporting and projecting by the river or in the woods. She rediscovers her adventurous spirit after a series of teleport and time travelling mishaps. Her unexpected meeting with Sanso in the Great Fire of London in 1212 starts another chain of teleport and timetravel adventures, as she is now determined to reach the island in 2121 that she read about in an old book of Lisa’s called Circle of Eights and Other Stories.

        #3345

        “He’s escaping!” Cheung Lok shouted in Chinese to the others.

        It seemed the scene had already played thousands of times in his mind, with various outcomes and different potential scenarios.

        Cheung Lok was struggling to understand why his choice of potential had finally left him in that New York apartment littered with maps, instead of following Jeremy and his strange cat to wherever they had disappeared.
        Somehow, it felt as if he’d been there, but had rewinded the action and chosen a different outcome.

        Not afraid of a good Chinese puzzle, he’d decided to meditate on it. He’d sent his henchmen back to the Corporation, so there was no distraction in the apartment. The summer heat was receding slowly with the sun setting, and a soft breeze made the paper blinds rustle to an irregular tempo.

        There was no point focusing on the tracking bug’s signal which he’d served in the sea cucumber dish to his guest, as its signal was now gone, and not even reliable. He even started to wonder if following such a fickle and capricious man was his way to the lost robot prototype.

        The meditation was soothing, if anything else, and his mind felt at peace for a while. Gone was the pressure of performance and success, gone were the merciless and faceless bosses to whom he reported. He was at peace. With the world, with himself, his choices, and even his vanished adversaries.

        When he opened his eyes, only a small ray of sunlight was left in the room, falling on a piece of lintel that seemed off.
        He sprung to his feet with the agility of a leopard, and with a swift and precise movement of his hand, removed the piece of sky blue panel. Under it, well hidden in a dusty corner, he found a crumpled bit of green paper that was probably hastily placed here before his team rammed the door open.

        Unfolding the paper, he smiled as it revealed a wonderfully drawn moving map.

        #3342

        “I don’t know!” Jeremy shouted at the guy with the round spectacles and the Chinese traditional garments full of intricate Chinese button knots.

        The guy showed no sign of losing patience although they’d asked him the question whole morning long.
        “That is unfortunate, Jeremy” the guy in charge said slowly. He was stroking Max in long broad stokes, flattening the ears with his palms, while the cat was purring like an engine oblivious to the danger in the room. “As you know, there are many ways to skin a cat…”

        “Don’t you dare harm Max!”

        “So let us recap from the start” the Chinese man said. “You told us you don’t know the man, or his companion. That they appeared and disappeared in a rag, to destination unknown.”
        Jeremy nodded, trembling of rage at the way the man was holding his cat.

        The Chinese man gave a brush of hand, which all the goons in the apartments took as a cue to leave them two alone.
        When they were all gone, he tightened his grip around the cat’s soft neck, and leaned closer to Jeremy:

        “My friend, the trace we left in our fugitive’s stomach led us to your place, so there is no doubt he was there. How he disappeared again is a mystery you will help us solve, whether you want it or not.”

        Jeremy looked at him quizzically “so why don’t you use your trace to locate him again?”

        “The problem is, by now, either he’s digested and dumped it somewhere in a hot steaming pile of shit, or he’s managed to cloak the signal. Those things were to be expected. I guess he went to you for a reason. He wasn’t able to locate our thief’s location without your help. So now, you will help us do the same.”

        Jeremy protested “But we tried it already, with the cucumber and all, but it didn’t work!”
        Somehow, a thought came with brief and intense clarity to him. The Chinese man noticed the glimmer in Jeremy’s eye and smiled thinly.
        “What is it?”
        “The map was working for him, as well as the cucumber, for some unexplainable reason. But not for you or me, it doesn’t mean anything! Of course! We have to try something different, focus on finding the person or thing you want, and let me draw another map.”

        Cheung Lok was starting to feel closer than he had been in months. He untied Jeremy, and gave him the cat. “Do it, do it now.”

        Jeremy lifted Max, tenderly wrapping the cat’s soft body like a scarf on his shoulders. He reached for the wall and took a coloured pin off the cork-board.

        While the Chinese guy was busy calling back his goons, Jeremy quickly started to draw on the skin of his arm a symbol with swirly lines, and going in a trance, started to dance into a swirling vortex.

        “He’s escaping!” Cheung Lok shouted in Chinese to the others, “Catch him!” he said, striving, but only too late, to catch the youngster who had just disappeared with his cat inside the vortex which was already rapidly closing around them.

        #3335

        Exhaustion got Lisa some sleep. She was in a black mood after the disappearance of Fanella who all of a sudden seemed to have become her preferred of the three girls, much to Mirabelle’s chagrin.

        As usual, the mood seemed to make things worse, and when Igor had tried to project to gather clues, it landed him in a nest of bees on the orange tree orchard over the fence, and it kept them busy for a while to remove the stings and soothe the poor guy in sea water cold baths poured in the stone coffin re-purposed into a nice bathtub.

        It had been a few sleepless nights, and Lisa managed to keep up thanks to coffee and nicotine patches. And cigarettes of course, which she’d tried to stop, hence the patches, but got confused, started again, and figured that a boost of nicotine gave her wings.

        The second night in a row without sleep, she was a wreck, and Jack put her in her bed, struggling a bit in the beginning but finally giving in.

        She woke up with the morning light, strangely refreshed and serene. She was pouring her morning coffee when she remembered the dream. Fanella was in it, and she was fine! She jumped off the table in her frivolous night garments to rush and tell the news to the others before she could forget it.

        #3332

        The bell rang twice. Nobody was giving any sign of opening, until a lanky lad came at the door to open it, in long slow dragging strides on the carpeted floor.

        “We’re here for the audition” an excited face pressed on the glass door, staining it with purple lipsticky marks.

        The lad discreetly rolled his eyes, looked right and left, as if checking for some unseen danger, then released the magnetic lock. It was stuck, so he gave a yank and the door flung open, almost propelling the woman, and a child inside.

        “This way” the lad showed them, guiding them in unnerving slow motion towards a room on the higher floor of the loft. A dozen of people were already waiting here. The lad showed them the ticket dispenser, and the child with the woman understood before her they had to pick one. 39.

        The woman brushed the hair of the child compulsively and fought against invisible specks of dust on his coat, before they would sit.

        “Twenty two.”
        “Twenty. Two.”

        At the seat next to them, a child raised from his place, his mother pushing him towards the voice. This was as far as she could go with him.

        After the child had disappeared in the next room, the purple lipstick woman leaned towards the lonely mother and started to talk to her in brisk hushed voice.
        “You must be so proud… I’m proud too.”
        Noticing reproaching looks from the others, she lowered her voice more.
        “I was so excited when I heard about it… So many years and now. Imagine that, my son could become his disciple, imagine, his one and only disciple in years…”

        The other woman, who’d been patiently hearing the other one’s cackling suddenly turned red and replied in a voice that bore the certainty of a death sentence:
        “Oh, but make no mistake M’am, I have nothing against your son, but no one will beat my Paul to it.”

        #3330

        With the aid of the holographic map, Irina, Mr R and little Greenie have been exploring the island.
        The next day they found a crashed plane from Aeroflot, not very far from their own landing spot. It was half burried in the mud and covered in green mossy vegetation. The doors were open as an irresistible invitation to enter.

        “A surprise, Mr R. I thought that this place was on your map. If I remember well, it didn’t show such an object.”
        “Forgive me, madam, indeed this plane wasn’t there when I triangulated the map I showed you.”
        “You mean it’s fresh ?” Irina’s voice seemed to suddenly carry some interest. “Maybe we can find some survivors”, she added, already doubting it considering all the moss on teh metallic shell.
        “I’m afraid we won’t, madam. I didn’t want to bother you with that little detail until I was sure. There are objects on this island that only appear after a certain date. Have you noticed it also happens with the vegetation and the insects ?”
        Irina pouted, “I prefer leaving that to your expertise.”
        “Of course, madam”, said the robot, affable. “The paradox is…”
        “Another paradox ? How interesting.”
        “…that it doesn’t seem to include us, or that little person.”
        “Any idea what the implications are ?” Irina began to wonder if there was any danger of being stuck permanently on this island.
        “I have several hypothesis”, he began, “The most probable is the lost room hypothesis. We arrived there through time space displacement and are not a natural part of this environment, hence we don’t change with its natural environment or inhabitants because we are not under it’s time sequence according to the Lehmon’s law.”

        Irina pouted. She looked at little greenie and thought of the implications about how their new friend arrived there. Whenre did she come from ? For her to be a bog mummy, she must have been there a long time. Or did she arrived already bogged ?
        Something caught her attention about the plane and distracted her of further thinking about the subject of their continuity risk in this place. The logo of the plane looked not so oldish.
        “Mr R. ? What do you think the date of the crash was ?”
        “The plane was lost in 2112.”

        Without further thought about safety, she entered the plane, followed first by little Greenie as she have been calling her new protegee, and by the robot who despite still talking about technicalities of accidental space time crossing theory, had turned on his speleo lights.

        Interestingly enough, Irina noted the clothes on the chairs or in the alleyways, here a pair of glasses, there a necklace, all layered as if the person wearing them had been puffed away.

        “Well, well, what have we here ? The light Mr R, please,” said Irina with as much excitement as a snail. He obliged her with his usual professionalism, revealing a teal blue scarf with pistachio green spirals. She took the cloth and stretched it to have a better look. It was one of those artistic kind of hippy abstract patterns connecting you to the cosmos.
        “I can’t think of anybody who would buy that thing, maybe she stole it from one of those duty free shops before they took off,” she said as petulantly as a pitfall trap.
        “Come here little Greenie, it’s time to make you pretty.”

        Irina did not have the chance to play with dolls when she was a kid, she didn’t know if she had some psychological lack or a bad doyle dating from that unremembered period of her life. She had compensated by toying with real people, playing with their emotions and deeper needs, or what they thought they needed. She became an expert at manipulating others, which gave her her first job in insurances, and then in the secret services. But then, she dealt with adults, showing emotions, or a certain level of brain activity. She wasn’t used to children stored in bogs.

        She tried to put the scarf on Greenie’s head, and to smile like she had seen people do in the movies. Although something unexpected happened. Greenie became suddenly distressed and agitated. Then, she punched Irina in the face and began to mumble incoherent things.
        That child is stronger than I thought. And at the same time, she noticed a name in that gibberish. Didnt she just shout : “I frigging love you, Sadie Merrie.”

        “Her brainwave is showing unusual activity”, stated Mr R. “And my sensors indicate the presence has returned, with some friends. They just appeared outside of the plane.”

        #3329

        Jeremy was 23 years old and living in a 57 square meters apartment in Brooklyn. He had two passions in life. Dance and maps.

        Max growled. Well you could consider Max as Jeremy’s third passion. Max was a ragdoll cat with a tiny little genetic defect. His fur had this faint pink tint as if it had been put into a washing machine with red clothes. Max purred, satisfied.

        Jeremy’s apartment was an artwork in itself. He was painting as a hobby and had drawn a few maps on his white walls. He had the precise stroke that dance demands of a dancer’s move, he had the eye of a falcon concerning details and he loved connecting dots. For some of the maps he had used pointillism, and for others the ancient art of collage he had learned with his grand-mother Martha. Inspired by Matthew Cusnik he had made portraits of dancers with maps and other landscapes.

        Jeremy has been interested for some time in a particularly beautiful picture of the Abraham Lake that he wanted to render on one of the last remaining areas of his ceiling when Max jumped on his lap, purring like a caress junkie in need of a few strokes. Jeremy obliged his cat distractedly, too engrossed in the meanders of the picture and the few maps he could already see in his mind like a puzzle.

        Max jumped on the desk and tried to force his way between the keyboard and Jeremy’s hand. But he didn’t have enough time to fulfill his desire. The cat began to cough as if it had a train of thought stuck in his throat.

        “Shit! You’re not going to puke on my keyboard!”

        But it was too late, the cat opened its mouth and threw up a little ball of hair which bounced off the keyboard and crashed down on the floor.

        “ehw!” said Jeremy who cringed when he saw the hair ball on his carpet. “I don’t know what you ate but it smells like those wheat Polish biscuits.

        Jeremy had already taken some tissue to clean the cat’s mess, and the cat, certainly thinking it wasn’t enough was licking his fur again.
        “Don’t make another one like that. You know I don’t like it.”

        He was about to take the ball when it wobbled suspiciously. Then it began to grow. Jeremy blinked several times to make sure he wasn’t dreaming. When the hairball reached the size of a soccer ball, it was obvious there was something inside, it was deformed like the belly of a pregnant woman when the baby kicks in her bowels.
        “What on earth have you spawned, Max!” He looked at his cat, horrified that it could be one of those Aliens.

        Soon it was as big as a corpse bag for two, and Jeremy could tell from the voices that there were at least two people inside.

        Sanso got out of the ragdoll hair ball first, perfect hair as usual. Fanella struggled to get out of the mess of hairs, and was a bit disheveled.

        “Time for a reality check”, said Sanso. “Am I dreaming ?” When he saw all the maps and the ragdoll cat, he knew he was at the right place.

        “Who are you guys ? And how did you get out of Max ?” asked Jeremy.

        #3312

        “Madam, I have found something…” Mr R was pointing at a large floating piece of moss in the middle of the bog where they had landed a few days ago.
        “At last,… some excitement, whoo…” said Irina with a deadpan expression that left no doubt as to her current level of excitement.

        There weren’t many clues as to where and when they’d arrived, but she already hated it.
        The bog for one, wasn’t her idea of a great retirement place. Of course, there were probably other places to explore on the island, it wasn’t as if she’d stay here permanently, but for now, if the bog was a nexus point of teleporting, she’d rather stay around, in case others would come from there. That was one of the first thing you learnt during the Training, to secure your entry points. You’d never know what to expect, teleporting whales were probably the least dangerous of the things that could get stranded here. And judging by the amount of strange objects littering the area, she and her robot weren’t the first thing to have been discarded here.

        She’d tasked Mr R, in his immense resourcefulness, to build her a proper watchtower, or just for now, a downsized version of what she’d felt would be a decent one.
        A proof of the robot’s talent was that with barely nothing, he’d managed in the past days to bulldoze a clearing in a less wet portion of the land. There, the light’s plays were purely gorgeous, creating the smallest ripples and endless reflections on the green tinges of the water —something Irina could observe with wonder for hours. Mr R had also managed to cook her a rather lovely braised water rat, with fresh peppermint and lotus roots caramelized in wild bees’ honey.
        He’d already built the foundations of a anthill-sized promontory, with a clean deck where she could rest on a surprinsingly comfortable deckchair made of driftwood and pieces of whatnots gathered around the place. That was were she was enjoying the last minutes of sun for the day, just about when he’d asked her to check on his discovery. It probably was important enough for the robot to disrupt her digestive meditation.

        “Well, well… What have we got here…”
        “It looks like a person, Madam… Female, around 28, judging by her bone structure. Her vitals are subtly low, but it seems she is alive…” the robot said after a careful scanning.
        “Alive? With that color ?” Irina was quite perplexed and slightly amused too.
        She wouldn’t mind some company and probably some intel on the island. Besides, there was a side of her that liked to nurse back to life those poor little wounded creatures. The girl would be her first greenish one…

        “Take her to our place, Mr R” she ordered the robot. “We will soon need double ration of your delicious water rat stew, Mr R”.

        #3293

        The whales’ dance on the dark bluish background lit by the tiniest reflection on floating seahorses and other sea creatures, made the scenery look like an eerie night skyline, full of moving stars.
        The added feeling of weightlessness was empowering, and soon, the three queens passed side glances, barely interested by the words of wisdom of the hologram, and catching each other’s mind, almost asked their question at the same time.

        Terry was the quickest this time, “Please, please, can you do a rendition of the Name Game with your disco ball lights, we’re all dying to do a dance! Please?”

        Interestingly, the Hologram didn’t show any hesitation as it started to sing, and the three queens were all glowing as they adjusted their wigs, fins and other appendages.

        The Name Game
        Terry!
        Terry, Terry bo Berry Bonana fanna fo Ferry
        Fee fy mo Merry, Terry!
        Sadie! Sadie, Sadie bo Badie Bonana fanna fo Fadie
        Fee fy mo Madie, Sadie!
        Come on everybody!
        I say now let’s play a game
        I betcha I can make a rhyme
        Out of anybody’s name …

        The lights were on, and the dresses glittered, Terry in the spur of the moment added kelp extensions to her wig to match the sardine tones of her suit, while Sadie’s only concession to fashion was a little glowing golden jellyfish that seemed to match her bob cut, and made for a funny pulsating hat.

        Adamus was on, and unstoppable

        The first letter of the name,
        I treat it like it wasn’t there
        But a B or an F, or an M will appear
        And then I say Bo add a B
        Then I say the name and Bonana fanna and a fo
        And then I say the name again
        With an F very plain and a fee fy and a mo
        And then I say the name again
        With an M this time
        And there isn’t any name that I can’t rhyme.

        A chorus of dolphins tried to join, having Consuela burst hysterically into peals of unstoppable laughter.

        Consuela!
        Consuela, Consuela bo Bonsuela Bonana fanna fo Fonsuela
        Fee fy mo Monsuela, Consuela!
        But if the first two letters are ever the same,
        I drop them both and say the name
        Like Bob, Bob drop the Bs Bo ob
        For Fred, Fred drop the Fs Fo red
        For Mary, Mary drop the Ms Mo ary
        That’s the only rule that is contrary.

        Maurana was shaking her head in seducing moves, pretending not to die of envy of the others, and expecting her turn.
        And the music went on…

        Okay? Now say Bo: Bo
        Now Belen without a B: Elen
        Then Bonana fanna fo: bonana fanna fo
        Then you say the name again with an F very plain: Felen
        Then a fee fy and a mo: fee fy mo !
        Then you say the name again with an M this time: Melen
        And there isn’t any name that you can’t rhyme
        Maurana! Maurana, Maurana bo Baurana Bonana fanna fo Faurana
        Fee fy mo Aurana, Maurana!

        And they continued with all sorts of names for quite a while, even some of the whales’ and dolphins’ who were obviously enjoying the interlude.

        :fleuron:

        “Did you get all that on video?” Maurana asked Sadie.
        “Of course I did, the ezapper got it all. Linda Paul and the network won’t believe their eyes, it’s some heavy material! Even better than gold bars!” Sadie could barely believe what had just happened.

        The whales seemed to have been so thrilled that after a moment of silence, a smaller one broke off the cycle, went to the huge crystal and took a heart shaped shard of it to offer them.

        “I guess that’s their way of burning a DVD, what do you think?” Consuela was blissfully hopeless with technology, but could also have some moments of brilliance.

        “We should go now” Sadie said looking up from the ezapper “it looks like some unidentified giant blue crab is coming at us, and we better let the whales handle it.”

        “Are we going through that awful sewer again?” Maurana was starting to get green at the idea.

        “I don’t think so, I had Sanso pick us up at the underwater cave thanks to Consuela surprise reconnaissance mission. He just arrived and he just texted me his location. It’s not far from here. He seems to have managed to herd a few octopi to carry us across. Always surprisingly resourceful this one, I might start to like him…”
        Snapping from her emotions, she continued
        “Time to say your adieus to 2222 ladies. Tonight, everyone’s a winner. We’re going to be famous.”

        #3281

        “Isn’t that the greatest thing about those underwater goggles”
        After the shark threat had vanished, Sadie had contemplated for quite some time her new-found underwater abilities, and how to shift the weight of her body gracefully underwater. And then, she realized she could roll her eyes in the most peculiar way, with the membrane of the transparent skin massaging her eyeballs in the most relaxing manner. She’d never felt so good about rolling her eyes, and that was saying something.

        “BrllllSssadiieeee” came the urging sound in bubbles and gurgles, with a hint of despair dragging her out of the lovely eyeball massage session. The underwater acoustics needed some fine-tuning, so she had her wits to thank for understanding quickly the situation.
        Despite what might have looked like her sending messages on her ezapper, at the same time she was having in-her-body experiences, she was merely testing experimental echo-localization to pinpoint the spot where the pod of whales would be most likely found. The feedback buzzing had prompted her minutes ago that it had found 6 potential spots, and one only which was the most probable and located less than an hour’s diving distance. One thing she knew was that you had to be careful with automatic location instructions, so she’d run a second independent check and was waiting for the results when the alarmed look of Maurana turned and rolled in front of her face, almost giving her a fright.

        “Gbbbllood gracious, Maurana, what’s the matter?”
        “Gbblbl wooohoooglllbb bbbllrsfffftt plk plk plk skwooobbll!”

        “Oh, for fucks sake,” she telepathied “will you stop nattering in French, be more articulate.”
        “The others are drowned and I no longer see them, it’s awful, what should we do?!” the thought came back with force and a bit of campiness.

        “Well, that would depend what it is you want” straight answers were not Sadie’s forte.
        “I want to have our party with costumes and dances, I want to be the black pearl of the Ocean, I want to have more glitter and less molluscs, more chic and less kelp…” she started to sob profusely, half-choking and breathing from her tears. “I want my friends, and to be back hooooome”
        “Bloody hell, Reggie, now is not the time to lose your shit, pull yourself together dammit.”

        The reaction was immediate, the telepathic swearing was so out-of-the-ordinary that Maurana looked twice at Sadie, with her bob cut surrounding her face like a heavenly halo. Suddenly self-conscious, Maurana started to reapply some waterproof mascara to cover the stains.

        “I found them,” said Sadie with infectious calm “the ezapper’s first scan took them for a pod of whales or octopi for some reason. Let’s go get them, then we go visit the whales. But first, you have to try this, it will soothe you…”, as she started to show some more rolling motion of her beautiful blue eyes.

        #3278
        Jib
        Participant

          Terry had always been sort of a follower type of person. The trouble was when her friends were going in two different directions, or like now in one direction and one stay-still. Which one should she follow ? Consuela was a small dot of plancton in the immensity of the ocean, and yet she dared launch herself in the unknown. The others were sticking together, kinda. Sadie was desperately trying to send messages or to receive instructions, it wasn’t very clear, and Maurana was pouting since Consuela was gone.

          That’s not a real profession, Amar, she got startled when she heard her dad’s voice as if he was just behind. She turned with a jerk of her right hip, but no sign of him.

          That was as if she’d been stung by a bee. She’s been waiting all her life, now she wanted to move. Without warning to her friends, she began to follow the trail of bubbles left by Consuela. The others could follow if they wanted, but she wouldn’t left her friend alone in the dark water.

          #3276

          “Oh, fuck it” Maurana said when she saw Consuela darting ahead. “The bitch is going to tire and notice we’re all here waiting for the barmy robot to pick us up… I guess… eventually?”

          But Consuela was paying no attention, and continued until it would take too much effort to swim and catch her. Maurana felt a moment of panic. What about the others? Terry seemed still here, doing rounds and laps in her sardine colours, while Sadie seemed to catch her underwater breath. Maybe they should all wait for Sadie’s instructions, she always knew what to do.
          “Let’s just hope that darn e-zapper of hers is waterproof” she bubbled in giggles.

          #3273

          Consuela was always the more independent and adventurous. She didn’t realise at first that there was something not quite right about the perilous situation.

          Breathing under water was strange, and it felt like a not quite adjusted piece of garment (an ill-motherfucker-fitted thong Maurana would have said), as though her lungs were filled with a light yet mucous fluid.
          They’d all struggled and kicked the water in violent spams in the beginning, thinking they were about to die when the wetsuit automatic mucusbags went off, as a security measure for drowning, she’d guessed.
          But then, the magic happened and they realised they could breathe like fishes.
          Then the shark panic attack happened, which left them swimming for their lives with their prosthetic fins (and more or less graceful movements). But the shark didn’t seem interested after all, or it was driven away by a more juicy prospect, because they soon found themselves following a strange string of parallel lighted dots that dived deeper under water like an oddly placed seacraft runway. At least, that was what she thought at first, until she arrived at the cave’s entrance and realized nobody was actually following her.

          The others didn’t follow… She only had to hope that they would catch her later with a taxi or something…
          The thought of being able to discover the underwater cave trumped all sense of caution, and the lure of the prized crystal of exotic properties was enough to send her further down, despite the feeling of flashing tentacles creeping around in her peripheral vision, then gone in an instant the moment she turned the head around…

          #3262

          After they’d jumped in the robot (which had shapeshifted into a sand buggy big enough for them), they had to cling tight to the railing of the light vehicle, as the robot was driving recklessly into a jungle of unexpected leaves and green vegetation tentacles.
          It wasn’t long before they were back on the gorgeously rugged Hawai’ian beach, taken on an unexpected dune racing along the coast.
          The queens looked exhilarated, but Sadie was a bit overwhelmed, especially after what the Techromancer had told her.

          The wetsuits fitting session passed in a blur, as the breathable elastic material was made to adapt to their bodies. Really, the only thing left to choose would have been color, but it was able to change itself at will, with very little shades it couldn’t replicate to perfection, even the Bollywood shine and twinkle that was all the craze in the 2019s.

          “But we’re in the 2222s now!”, Maurana had voiced her disapproval of her choice of glittery fashion. Little did Sadie care about it. Her mission seemed to stretch to sidetracks and unneeded distractions on her path to Great Happiness.

          All four of them clad in their fancy bathsuits and looking more like hippy frogs than sassy mermaids, they followed the robot on the miles-long deck that led to the horizon.

          After half an hour of walking on the narrow bridge, they were at a good distance from the coast and Terry started to pant and breathe heavily in her green sardine scales costume.
          “Stop! I got to catch my breathe, how long it’s going to be now? We were promised a soirée! Not a walk on the wild side!”

          The robot, rolled back a few steps, and turned briskly.
          “Actually, Sir, this is a perfect spot for your whale training”

          And before they realized, the robot had opened the deck under their feet, plunging all of them in the ocean screaming.

          Thanks to her excellent training and natural sharp reflexes, Sadie was the first to realize a few things.

          • They were all alive
          • They were able to breathe underwater
          • Their suit enabled them to talk and understand each other in what sounded like whale-speech.
          • A looming shape was quickly closing on them, looking dangerously like that of a giant toothy white shark.
          • Her mind was a mysterious thing.

          Why? Simply because the previous thought was coinciding with another one which was saying unequivocally that she still hadn’t found a proper dragqueen’s name for herself, and yet another one, even more funny than all others, saying in between bursts of infectious laughter that her last words could well be whale speech, and would make a hell of an epitaph.

          She floated for a time moment stretched into an eternity, weighing all the rippling probabilities and wondered what her next move would be, as she was in the void of creation, hovering under a vortex of thoughts, with a sea of twinkling stars beckoning her further down the ocean’s clear bottomless depths.

          #3257

          “You look just like your father” was Lisa’s mother’s only remark when Lisa had thoughtfully sent her a couple of photos from Portugal. No compliment coming from her, thought Lisa, rolling her eyes. And it wasn’t even true ~ she looked nothing like her father, something else must have triggered her mothers comment, some other association.
          “Remember your new policy, dear, don’t take it personally” Mirabelle reminded her. “Just another cranky old crone stewing on an old trigger. Besides,” she added, “What about Frank and Molly? Can you get a more specific remote view? Stuck in a carob tree could be almost anywhere.”
          “You’re rather sweet for such a bossy tart” replied Lisa with a grateful smile. “Shush now then while I access their location.”
          Lisa closed her eyes and waited for the images to appear. There was an explosion of purple and a great deal of static before an image began to appear of carob pods on a car windscreen. As Lisa viewed the glass a strange thing began to happen and she started to focus on the reflections. There were dozens of people approaching, all wearing brilliant white robes trimmed with gold. The robes were short, and revealed a considerable amount of tanned muscled leg, and a murmur of appreciation escaped her lips. What handsome fellows, she thought, but there’s something odd about them. Either this is a fancy dress party on a dry dusty hill, or another time zone.

          #3246

          Jonbert’s robot had easily found the location, but it was in standby in a cafe near the techromancer’s hut, posing as a tourist in a flower shirt with a straw hat and a glass of coconut oil.

          Jonbert had received additional information about the whale network which seemed to change slightly his plans. The Ghost Whale who was supposed to preside over the rituals was apparently delayed in Time, making the retrieval of the second key problematic.
          He would have loved to rudely prompt Linda Paul to get her Queens in alignment, but for now, there was no point to that yet. He’d better leave them at their little escapade, under close surveillance from his robot.
          In all cases, they would all have to wait more in the nexus of times.
          Using his ivory carved forking long shoehorn, he scratched his itchy back. It was for him rather infuriating to be stuck, he sighed “Stuck in 2222!”. The robot bearing those news had learnt it the hard way.

          He stroked distractedly his luscious mane of red hair. At 153, thanks to regular nano-implants, Jonbert was incredibly healthy, in a very healthy and hairy manner, unlike many others he wouldn’t name.

          #3228

          The techromancer was living in a techut, with a teak deck.
          The secretary at the entrance, all clad in white, arose from the surface of her glamour egazine and eyed the four of them with a reproachful eyebrow.
          “Do you have an appointment?”

          Tricky question Sadie thought It may well be the Universe testing my resolve.

          “Of course we do” she said, removing her shades with a deft hand, and the most convincing impersonation of a rich obnoxious elite member she could enact.
          “Don’t you know who I am?”

          The secretary looked a bit puzzled, but before she could answer, Sadie continued
          “Is the big guy here?”
          She pressed inside, leaving the drags a bit surprised for a second behind her, who after a look at each others, followed on her trail toot suite.

          Well, that wasn’t difficult.

          After a series of cumbersome curtains which looked heavy, mouldy and slightly alive, she thought she’d arrived at the final room, but the last curtain opened to the back of the techut, in the garden from which they had entered.

          Mmm, this one has some tricks, but nothing that cannot be ezapsolved

          She placed the ezapper on living signal locate mode, and found that she may have made a wrong curturn.
          She almost bumped into the silently curious drag queens, and arrived in front of the room.
          She signaled her friends in tow to wait for their turns outside.

          A guy in a hood with dreadlocks covering his face and strange lighting coming from his belt was sitting there in a meditation posture, surrounded by big glowing crystals which looked a tad fake.

          #3226

          With years of intense Happiness training, and being herself a certified Happiness Coach™ in Rainbow Unified Bliss®, Lisa was reasonably adept at dispelling the occasional bouts of frustration that the six time travelers were experiencing while familiarizing themselves with the new time frame. Learning the new languages, both the local Spanish and the common language of the village tribe, English, was of paramount importance, and Mirabelle in particular was having difficulties. A basic vocabulary was easy enough, but when it came to grammar, Mirabelle was hopeless. Thus her communications were of a very basic and rudimentary nature, and she often felt unable to express her feelings, or her thoughtful observations on the many nuances, similarities and differences and overlaps of the current time and 18th century France. Not only was she obliged to learn two new languages, but was also learning to read and write. Often it seemed like all work and no play, too much pressure to perform, to learn, to do well at her studies, and yet play breaks were always frustrated in some manner because of her difficulties in communicating clearly. The fact that the others were progressing better with the languages made her feel alone, adrift in a sea of her own unexpressed thoughts.
          Adeline had a more relaxed approach to the language difficulties, less inclined to struggle with it and more likely to chatter endlessly to Boris instead, and ask him to translate when she needed some help. She had discovered an interest, and some considerable talent, in the art room, experimenting with the paints and materials, and spent many happy hours engrossed in her paintings and playful collages of mundane (but to her, bizarre) objects. She was like a magpie, collecting items that caught her eye. The bright colours and smoothness of plastic appealed to her, especially when transformed in shape by one of those odd little plastic fire making gadgets. Sunglasses were another favourite, especially the different shades of lens. It was not unusual to hear one of the villagers complaining that the lids to the tupperware containers were missing, or all the bottle tops had been removed, to find they had all been glued together, with the flyswatter, a few odd flipflop beach shoes and the mirror lenses out of someones shades. But the villagers were on the whole amused, generously indulgent, and good naturedley rolled their eyes at her creative curiosity.
          Boris was practical and capable, and true to form, was learning rapidly. He had no particular desire to express vague rambling thoughts (indeed, he was not a vague and rambling man by nature) and turned his attention to more practical matters. When he wasn’t chatting to Adeline, he was watching Jack tinkering inside car engines, or playing with Pierre’s camera and had quickly learned how to upload and play with the images on the computer. Often in the evenings Adeline would sit beside him and watch drowsily as the images changed in front of her eyes on the screen.
          Ivan and Igor were learning what they needed to learn while doing it ~ tending the goats and chickens, working outside on the land, or helping with various building projects. They had taken to the local bars like ducks to water, and spent the evenings downing copious amounts of beer and wine with the locals, all of them babbling and shouting incoherently, but seeming to understand each other in the camaraderie of inebriation.

        Viewing 20 results - 301 through 320 (of 558 total)