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  • #1158
    TracyTracy
    Participant

      Mademoiselle Mongoose was the Director of Public Relations at the Z.O.O. (short for Zoological Organization of Outcasts) which was no easy task. Her job entailed ensuring that the members remained Outcasts whilst endeavouring to foster an attitude of Acceptance from the general public. The dilemma was that oftentimes, once an Outcast was Accepted, he no longer qualified as an Outcast and according to the rules, was no longer eligible to remain at the Z.O.O.

      Mlle Mongoose couldn’t find the new Outcast anywhere. The enormous Anaconda, affectionately nicknamed Nana Croissant, was Absent Presumed Escaped Soft, which was one of Mlle Mongoose’s biggest headaches at the Z.O.O. There seemed to be a disproportionate number of A.P.E.S. at the Z.O.O.


      Mlle Mongoose sighed. If Nana Croissant couldn’t be located, Mlle Mongoose would have to report the disappearance to her superior, Sir Raphael Cabra-Chevre. Thankfully the Z.O.O. also had a disproportionately high population of R.A.B.B.I.T.S. (Rare Intermediate ‘Best Bait In Town’ Stars), to cover for the erratic and unpredictable behaviour of the A.P.E.S., ensuring that there was plenty going on for the General Public at all times. (It may be noted by the S.W.A.N.S. ~ Sumafi Workers Affiliated Normal Society ~ that R.I.B.B.I.T.S. would be more technically accurate, however they were generally accepted as R.A.B.B.I.T.S. to Those In The Show ~ otherwise known as T.I.T.S.)

      Mlle Mongoose decided to enlist the help of the C.A.M.E.L.S. (Central Agency for Missing, Escaped & Lost Softs) before alerting Sir Raphael Cabra-Chevre.

      The Case of The Disappearing Aardvark was another matter, though. Mlle Mongoose decided to call in the M.E.E.R.C.A.T.S. (Missing Entities & Essences Roll Call and Time Share)

      #1323

      In reply to: Pictures Pool

      ÉricÉric
      Keymaster

        Added the first pics of the book to the pool (just to temporarily revive an otherwisely morribundish thread ;) )

        #1043
        ÉricÉric
        Keymaster

          Serendib Facility, Sri Lanka ~ (2036)

          Becky had been strangely shaken when she saw appearing in the last word cloud “dead becky” in huge letters.
          Surely she was not scared by death, as dead was only a different term for a different life, but she wasn’t sure she was ready to croak so young!

          Perhaps she died in childbirth; after all, it wouldn’t be so surprising because then the Serendib Facility looked very much like an eerie transitioning place. She tried to remember… When was the last time people had surprised her; done something unexpected, something she couldn’t have calculated. She thought Tina perhaps… Well, on the holographic visiophone, Becky had seen her with utmost details rolling her eyes, thrice even, at the mention of the ménage à trois… But of course,… that hardly counted as a surprise.

          She was starting to freak out. Gayesh! GAYESH! she called out running in the corridors of the facility barely managing to get a bewildered look from the nurses apparently now accustomed to her antics.

          A few moments later, she was comfortably seated in Gayesh’s office, with a warm cup of coffee in her hands. Aaaah, she loved that scent, the warmth that goes right to her heart. She felt comforted. At least if she was dead, the coffee seemed real enough.

          Gayesh had taken an undecipherable look once she had told him of her… premonition. She intuitively felt that there was something he wasn’t telling.

          She almost gurgled her last coffee sip uttering to the doctor “If I’m dead, then spit it now!”

          The laugh from Gayesh came as a surprise to her. “Ahaha,” she couldn’t help but notice, “a surprise !”

          Looking straight into her eyes, he told her “Well, perhaps your premonition has some deep meaning Becky dear, but you look quite alive to me, and with a constitution like yours, likely to live till 157 years old, if you ask me.”

          Becky was greatly relieved, even though she still had the hunch that the mysterious handsome doctor wasn’t telling her all the truth. “I think that idle life is making me insane… I need to see some real dusty rocky stuff; all those projections won’t do for the rest of my life. All the more since I’m supposed to live that long!”

          Gayesh was looking more and more preoccupied.

          “What is it, dear?” Becky asked, starting to feel the pangs of angst coming back at her. (she whispered to herself some of her favourite mantras: stand behind the short wall, breathe, breathe, yes, YES, it’s not your energy…)

          “You see Becky dear,” Gayesh answered after a minute of silence, “there is still some issue with the cloning process; until we find some advanced way of doing it, the clones need some of your cells regularly to be kept in good health, otherwise, I can’t really promise Becky Tooh (that was how the clone#2 was nicknamed) a life as good as yours. That’s why I’m a bit reluctant at letting you go on some errands…”

          Well, if she’d wanted some surprise to see that she was alive, there she got more than enough, Becky thought.

          #881

          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.

          :fleuron:

          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…

          #1798

          In reply to: Synchronicity

          ÉricÉric
          Keymaster

            Some interesting syncs:

            Discussing the comment on Franiel and Vincentius with Francie, some things of interest:

            F: hahaha i laughed at the egg bit :egg_wink:
            E: bit silly I reckon :)) but somehow it synch’ed with two movies we’ve been watching yesterday
            F: yes, good to have a bit of silly in our otherwise serious story :|
            E: In one, there is that :ghost: ghost girl who stalks her husband new love affair, and ends up speaking through a parrot
            And the other, there is this shaman old woman who remote-views her people went on a quest, and ends up dying in stead of a girl, so that the young one lives…

            F: oh that is like your plants in the courtyard dream too —just had a recollection of you saying one gave up its pot for the other one
            E: Oh yes, true… Perhaps it’s just like a layering, like you do for strawberries, you use parts of the roots to do new plants…
            “Layering is more complicated than taking cuttings, but has the advantage that the propagated portion can continue to receive water and nutrients from the parent plant while it is forming roots.”

            E: “In air layering (or marcotting), the target region is wounded and then surrounded in a moisture-retaining wrapper such as sphagnum moss ;))

            Peat moss is also a critical element for growing mushrooms” that’ll make Tracy happy :))
            In New Zealand, care is taken during the harvesting of sphagnum moss=))

            F: “it can also be used as a substrate for tarantulas as it is easy to burrow into:spider:

            E: “Such Sphagnum bogs can also preserve human hair and clothing, one of the most noteworthy examples being Egtved Girl , Denmark”. Egg and B.C. sync :))

            F: cool name, Egtved. Oh thats interesting about the Egtved girl: due to be public this month
            E: oh, well spotted!
            F: shall we all pop over and check it out
            E: Ahahaha sure :world:

            #809

            Adorning the enormous wooden door of Chesterhope Mansion was a heavy bronze knocker in the shape of an ornate dragon. The door stood slightly open.

            Hello! Anyone there! Franiel called out several times, each time pushing the door open wider.

            Only an echoey silence responded.

            Franiel mindfully removed his boots. With a growing sense of excitement, as well as some slight trepidation if the truth be told, he entered the massive entrance hall. A black marble statue of a tiger reminded him curiously of his dream. To the left and right were doors, but after knocking gently, he found these to be locked.

            In the distance someone began to play the piano, a slow and simple melody. Franiel followed the faint sound to the door at the end of the hallway. He entered a massive dining room, in the center of which stood a very long table with 12 highbacked chairs. The furniture was heavy and dark, but sunlight streaming in through the window mercifully lightened the atmosphere.

            Crossing the room he entered the rear parlour from whence came the music. A woman sat with her back to him playing an upright piano. She had long grey hair, worn loose down her back. Franiel noticed how thin she was, and how straight she sat as her long fingers delicately caressed the keys.

            Hesitantly he knocked, not wishing to startle her. She stopped playing and turned towards him. Her face was gaunt, and such a pale colour, he found himself wondering if it had been a long time since she had seen the light of day. But her eyes were alive, bright and intense, and she did not seem awfully surprised to see him there.

            Hello she said, Who are you? I don’t think I have seen you here before.

            I am Franiel. I am sorry to arrive so unexpectedly … he began

            Oh no! you mustn’t be sorry, the woman interrupted, jumping up with a speed and agility which surprised Franiel given her otherwise frail appearance. She rushed over to him and then reached out and lightly touched his cheek. A look of wonder crossed her face and she stepped back.

            Oh my goodness! You are real! she exclaimed in astonishment. I thought you were one of the others.

            #616

            She had felt it.
            When the old man had left his body behind, she had felt it.

            Oorlaith had foreseen that he would decide to leave this World, and thus was not affected too much. However, she was not sure that Leonard, who she had sent to the highs of Mount Elok’ram had had time to retrieve the cup of Margilonia.

            Oorlaith had already collected the wand of Selvaniel, which Leonard had brought back to her, thanks to her indications, from the Forest bordering the Marshes. Now, she hoped he had time enough to get to the old Abbot.
            Otherwise, it might be more delicate…
            Much more delicate…

            Hopefully, she had made contact with Roselyn, who had been settling in another part of Asgurdy, on one of the numerous rocky islands bordering the South-western coasts, where life was scarce and the soil barren, but where it was safe enough to do magic in this superstitious land, as not much people ventured to these places.
            Her spiked dragon had helped her carve out her new residency and she was quite well installed now.
            Before moving from the deserts of Asgurdy, she had managed to get the sunstone of Agnima.

            #449

            All that farting had been quite exhausting, but the mummy felt that she was reincorporating vigor more quickly now, as the old fartesque energy was giving way.
            This was a quicker process than birthing, but also more disturbing.

            She slowly started to unwrap her bandages.
            She smiled as she saw her peach smooth skin on her hands.

            :fleuron:

            Malvina had clapped her hands and made the food and drinks and decorations disappear in the reception hall of the cave, feeling the time was not to big parties right now. The guest had moved again, and she had not been in the mood for party either.
            She had not yet managed to reestablish contact with her sisters and that was a more pressing matter.

            Leörmn had been retreating into his seasonal slumber, and would not be of great help at the moment, so she knew it was also time for her to get back to simple things and not worry about what was not yet here. Probabilities had simply moved, they would come back.

            The silgreen tree had bloomed, and she wanted to brew some potions with its flowers. She would then go with Irtak to the village sell some vials of potion, and perhaps they would take the opportunity to see Huÿgens too, as he sometimes needed such potions for his langoats.

            :fleuron:

            For Illi the cat, that cave filled with slimey scaly beasts was now out of her way.
            Good riddance.

            This dead Illi experience had been so intense she had almost believed there indeed was a pink indigo dragon right were she was at the entrance of the cave. But the impression had vanished all of a sudden, and she had found herself with her mind again her own only, without the echoing thoughts of that deranged other.
            She had found a tree nearby, and comfortably seated on some high branches had been mediating with the help of trance inducing betel catkins that she carried with her as she traveled.

            She had seen some weird stuff, like farting bandage wrapped people putting cobblestones to make a way to the sky, but that was enjoyable. As nothing really could make sense that night, she decided to go to sleep on her tree.

            In the morning, a snorting sound made her raise her pointy ears. Just below her tree, a man was eating and singing, looking at some map, obviously planning some interesting adventure…

            :fleuron:

            In the cave, where Vincentius was left with the Ugling boy and Mandrake, the latter finally decided to break the ice.

            — How pitiful we left that sabulmantium to the snorting man… Mandrake said, we could have had a peek into Arona’s adventure… Not that I am concerned, she is so brave, but you know, she’ll always be my little… What am I saying? mumbled Mandrake temporarily confused.
            — Oh, you mean, Arona had a sabulmantium?
            — Mmm, well, of course… We projected hairy cows and stuff… (I’m really saying the stupidest things today, might be that herbal tea, shivered Mandrake, licking his paw and combing with it the unkempt hair on his head)
            — Interesting… But you know if you want to have a look, we can do otherwise. Let me see…
            — (trying to make yourself important, huh) thought Mandrake

            Vincentius took a little blue bag tied to his belt, and threw a pinch of a smelly mossy powder on the smoldering embers.
            A thick greenish smoke started to rise making Mandrake retreat carefully (or tactfully he would say) in his favourite place behind the pile of logs to look at the discomfiture of poor Vincentius without having to overwhelm him too much with his own superior sharp intuitive senses.
            But to Mandrake’s surprise, the smoke steadied like a moving wall, and images started to foarm.

            — Hey, this is my little girl, Arona! Mandrake couldn’t help but say.
            A-lo-na, the slow voice of Yikes/Zacquer said.

            #258
            F LoveF Love
            Participant

              India Louise sat at the end of the extraordinarily long oak dinner table. A tiny figure engrossed in some drawing. The morning sun shone in the window, brightening the otherwise dark room.

              Lord Wrick walked in, not seeming to see India Louise at first. He held a letter in his hand, and some old newspaper clippings. He sat down heavily at the table, opened the letter, and read it. After reading it, he sat staring into space for a long while.

              India Louise looked up from her drawing.

              What is wrong Grandpa? You look sad. She walked over to him and hugged him. See look at this. Look at my drawing of a flower, perhaps that will cheer you up. The painter Bill has been showing me how to use these paint sticks and also how to use my mind to help make the painting have life.

              It is beautiful India Louise.

              What did the letter say Grandpa. Why is it making you so sad?

              It is just an old letter, India Louise.

              Yes it looks very old. Was it bad news?

              Just reminds me of things I wish I had said a long time ago, said her great grandfather, Regret is an awful curse

              The little girl hugged him again. Yes it sounds awful. I think I will draw another flower for you grandpa.

              He smiled. Thank you India Louise. I will be back soon. I will put the letter away now.

              Yes, put it away now. I can’t see any point looking at it if it makes you sad, and then come and see the flower I will draw for you.

              Lord Wrick walked over to the bookshelves and reached up. There was a tin on the top shelf. He opened the tin and got out an old key.

              He walked down the passage way, to the right and then down some stairs leading to the cellar. There was a door, which had not been opened for some time, and he had to use some force to get the key to work in the lock.

              The room was dark, musty, mostly full of what would seem to be junk, which had been thrown there when people did not know what else was to be done with it. There was an old chest of drawers against one wall. He pulled open the top draw, fingering gently some of the items, more old letters, a feather, some pebbles, a diary, some old paintings and photos. He knew each object had a life of it’s own, memories which create worlds. He added the letter and the newspaper article.

              As he left the room, he wondered whether to lock the door again, and decided not to. He had a funny feeling within himself as he made this decision to leave it open, a shift, as though his simple decision had changed things, somehow.

              Silly old fool he thought, laughing at himself. He would go and see the flower that India Louise was drawing for him.

              #181

              As the voice was becoming louder, Írtak felt also the presence of Leörmn. He was feeling this liquid vibration that was his signal for the shapeshifting of the tunnels. He knew that Leörmn was aware of his presence and wouldn’t change the tunnel he was in, but he could possibly forget to leave him an exit.

              He felt the presence of Malvina reassuring, she was also supervising the progression of the girl. He knew it was not for him to intervene and help the girl, she was to find her own way. And if her choice was to find him she would, otherwise he had still to find that missing egg.

              Since he’d found Malvina and Leörmn he’d unraveled many of his own abilities. They were quite different from those of Malvina, nonetheless she told him that they were perfectly fitting his own exploration. He could feel the eggs and the only difficulty was to follow a path that would lead him to any lost egg before it was too cold.

              And for now, the egg was in another direction than the one from which the voice was coming. He just added his own encouragement and trust to the girl, and he continued his little quest.

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