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  • #1189

    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!
    :mouse:

    #1188

    — “I’M FRIGGINCOLD!”
    — “I have to agree with Glor”, said Mavis, as Sharon was about to object to the loud whines
    — “Oh, bummer, you two peas in a pod! How can you be cold with all that fur on you! And how do you want to break out this prison you whiners eh?”
    — “You’re the bloody genius Sha, you tell us! Had you not signed us up for those stupid beauty treatments…”
    — “Now that’s a bit late for what-ifs, init? Let’s make the best of what we’ve got; had it not always worked out that way?”

    The two others Yeah’ed in unison.

    — “Do you mean we’ll burn our fleece to make us warm?”, Glor asked sheepishly
    — “Don’t be bloddy silly! If we want to escape, better keep that fur as long as we’re in penguin land !”
    — “So what?”
    — “What ‘what’?! Don’t tell me you haven’t noticed?” Sharon’s voice trailed off with a hint of hopelessness

    WHAT?!”
    — “You’ve been snotting all around for hours, and you haven’t bloddy noticed?!”
    WHAT?!”

    — “Our snot, bloddy ‘ell! It’s sticky like those goddam spider webs! With a bit of training, I’m sure we can knit a solid net and ropes and stuff to get out of ‘ere!”

    #1184

    “So we’ll be moving as soon as the others come back from their trip. Very well, that will be a great opportunity to see new environments for Yikes “ Vincentius acknowledged the news with his usual composure.

    “Very well then, I hope you are not too worried about Arona, but she…”
    “Not at all” Vincentius answered with a smile.
    “Oh… Okay then. Perfect!”

    Malvina added as if to make sure he had understood everything properly “So, I’ll be at my friend’s den for a few days. Georges and Salome will be here in case you need anything, and of course Buckie, though he might be a bit unpredictable…”

    “Have a safe voyage” so Vincentius, who was not of many words when it wasn’t about saying something meaningful, ended the conversation.

    :fleuron:

    To go to see her friend Yimho, Malvina wanted to look pretty —not dashing, but not looking like a country girl either. She reached for the linen embroidered dress with the zynder patterns. She loved it, it would be perfect.

    Yimho was a guy living nearby she had known briefly from her days of Sorcery training, who had a rejuvenating cave situated just under a hot spring, so that water was running almost everywhere inside the cave. On the walls, the floor, little pools everywhere. Yimho had this uncanny interest in golfindels and was telling all sorts of stuff to entertain people with; stuff that he got from tuning himself to the consciousness of the creatures.
    Malvina was thinking she would have a nice time there, though the echoes of clicking sounds throughout Yimho’s dwelling were a bit disturbing…

    #1183

    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…”

    #1182

    “Wait a minute, you’re telling me that you’re a Parcel Delivery company, and you don’t have a map? You deliver parcels and you don’t have a map, you don’t have the internet, and your delivery man doesn’t have a phone?”

    Bea was beginning to sound exasperated, Leonora thought. Must be the parcel people. “Parcel people?” she asked. “ A mobile phone wouldn’t be any use here anyway, Bea” she added “There’s no network cover.”

    “My address?” Bea said into the telephone in an increasingly desperate voice. “Three people have called asking for my address” Bea took a deep breath and tried to change her energy. “My address is The House Down The Road Behind The Black Horse Bar” Bea paused for breath and continued “Through The Green Gates which are Behind The Fountain And Next To The Palm Tree. Tomorrow? You were supposed to come today! You were supposed to come yesterday as a matter of fact so I stayed home all day…”

    “You weren’t going out anywhere anyway, Bea” Leo said mildly.

    “Well I won’t be here tomorrow, can you just leave the parcel at the post office? What? Of course they’ll know who it’s for, it’ll have my bloody name and address on it! What? No, I don’t know what street the post office is on, haven’t you got a map? No? Well Google it! You’re kidding. You’re a parcel delivery company! What’s your name, by the way?”

    “Well would you believe it, she hung up on me!”

    “How wonderfully Spanish” said Leonora. “Remember the last parcel people? Wouldn’t deliver to houses without a number. So if I go out and paint a number, let’s say 57, on my gate, you’ll deliver the parcel, I said to them, and they said, well yes I suppose so, so I did. I went out to the shed and grabbed the first paint…”

    “That swimming pool blue”

    “…yeah bit bright isn’t it, that blue paint and I painted the number on it, and the neighbours came out and asked what I was doing…”

    “They delivered the parcel though, didn’t they Leo”

    “They did. There’s a knack to dealing with parcel people.”

    Bea was quiet for a few minutes and then asked “What’s that then?”

    “What’s what?” asked Leonora.

    “What’s the knack? How do you get parcel people to deliver?”

    Leo laughed and said she didn’t really know. “Change your energy, make a game of it, see what happens.”

    Just then the phone rang. Bea answered it.

    “Well how about that” said Bea, hanging up the phone a few moments later. “That was the parcel delivery man. He’s on his way now.”

    Five or six hours later, just after the parcel delivery man had finally arrived, Bea beamed as she opened the brown cardboard parcel.

    “I’ve been dying to read this, it’s the sequel to T’Eggy Gets a Good Rogering. I ordered two copies, I thought Baked Bean Barb might want one too, you know, as a bit of a thank you for the book she’s bringing round for us.”

    Leo said “You what!” and rolled her eyes. “Really Bea, couldn’t you have chosen something better than that?”

    “Define ‘better’, Miss Prim Prunes” retorted Bea. She was too happy about the books arrival to mind Leo’s remarks. Then she shouted “OH MY GOD! They’ve sent the wrong books!” so loudly that Leo jumped.

    “Good grief!” exclaimed Leonora, taking a closer look. “Circle of Eights! But that’s the book that Baked Bean Barb found on the rubbish tip, the book she’s bringing round for us!”

    “I don’t believe it!” Bea whispered, awed by the bizarre coincidence. “That’s the book with us in it.”

    “What a hoot!” said Leo.

    #2155

    In reply to: The Story So Far

    ÉricÉric
    Keymaster

      Tikfijikoo Island (continued)

      (see this comment for previous part)

      Mahiliki comes crashing down the island (with the pilot) having Veranassessee dumbfounded and speechless.

      Rafaela leads Paquita and Jose through their dreams into acceptance of their facial conditions, and out of the island’s experiments through a secret passageway underground.
      As well, Anita leads her parents away from the island, through a tunnel, thanks to the intervention of her favourite team of “invisible” essence friends. She bids Akita goodbye as he’s drawn to the impromptu fiesta by Mavis and tells him he shall see his spirit dog again.

      Meanwhile, Sha and Glo discover some strange hairiness side-effects to their absorption of honeycomb.

      [Fast forward a few weeks later.]

      Apparently Dory and young Becky who were going to Tikfijikoo discover the island is placed under quarantine.
      All clues indicate the vortex activities, cyclones, and mad spider experiments have put the international security at risk.

      Veranassessee is reporting the situation at the local headquarters of the Confregation (likely to be fired), while Mahiliki and the pilot are under scrutiny to check their stories…

      We find the three divas, Sharon, Gloria and Mavis with a little more hair, but not less slickness, in a military hospital on nearby Antarctica. Akita was brought there too, in solitary confinement because he pretends to be a WWII soldier and to be guided by a speaking dog (which is all real of course, but you never know). They soon plan to escape.

      Madame Chesterhope, who was unwillingly rescued on the submarine of captain Pavel is placed in some sort of detention.
      Meanwhile, Claude has visibly gotten back to Jarvis who had managed to get the crystal skull amidst the island’s confusion. They now both are on the submarine, toasting on the success of the operation of crystal skull’s retrieval.

      Balbina, an old lady living in the future timeline in Venezuela (same timeline as Anita and her parents) is moved to her son’s home, nearby old caves were she expects Anita and her parents may soon resurface.

      #1181

      “I told you, you shouldn’t have told them”
      “Shut up! You’re not even real, none of this is real…”
      “Well, I don’t know for you, but I feel real enough to be able to annoy you”

      Akita wasn’t sure if those hallucinations were due to the shock of the freezing temperatures of the Antarctica base, or to the medications they’d given them since the military troops had landed on the shores of that island to place it under strict quarantine. All of that was a bit fuzzy afterwards.

      He barely remembered how he’d been brought here. Someone had probably noticed the high energy vortexes occurring on the island, or perhaps someone in high places had been tipped about all the weird stuff that had occurred there. He couldn’t tell for sure.
      However, something strange had occurred. He had started to be able to see Kay, his spirit dog, reappear soon after.
      And that’s when everything started to go in a hellish downward spiral.
      Perhaps he shouldn’t have tried to convince the medics in the first place. Now he wasn’t so sure the dog wasn’t all but a figment of his imagination, which was all fine for him, but he had to know.

      “Has this… err… dog that you see speaking to you, has it ever told you anything you couldn’t have known yourself?” the medic had been asking him.
      That’s what had the doubts start to creep. Perhaps he was just another traumatized war veteran, like a few others, creating funny speaking critters in his mind to cope with the amount of trauma he went through. That would be quite possible.

      “Oh, come on Akita, you know I’m real, and everything we’ve gone through was real. Those friggin’ drugs they’ve given to you ain’t helpin’ you know”.

      Kay was right about that. He was slurring his words, and could barely stand on his own. They had to escape from here; real, unreal, it didn’t really matter; but he was sure of one thing; it wasn’t feeling good. Not feeling good in the least.

      “Kay?”
      “What?”
      “I suppose you got a plan, you sly dog?”

      #1177
      Jib
      Participant

        Yann was feeling a bit uncertain of what to do next. These past few days had been evolving in an unfamiliar direction and doing familiar things like going to work, eating at more or less fix hours (the same kind of food), and even checking the mail sitting on their sofa was feeling uncomfortable.
        Most of the time, if he continued focusing on what was happening in the outside world, he was feeling overwhelmed really quickly and things he was doing at that moment would kind of escape his control… the plates would fly over if he was washing the dishes, the tooth brush would hit his gums savagely if he was brushing his teeth… Not so gentle reminder in his opinion.
        Well, all of that was making him ponder about becoming completely insane in order to have an excuse of doing whatever he wanted at the moment he wanted…
        Too tired to proof read…
        :chomping:

        #1174

        Balbina had had a quite difficult week. Feeling cold, having trouble to find sleep, not even speaking of being unable to do the kind of out-of-body travel she had managed to do last time.
        She was almost starting to doubt she could redo it again.

        Of course, the relocation at her son’s cottage was a source of much change in her habits, and although he wasn’t at home most of time, she wasn’t really feeling like she was ‘at home’. Strangest thing really, as for the time she was at the hospice she wasn’t feeling as much an alien as in this cottage. At least, at the hospice, she was in a sort of neutral environment, some place where she wasn’t undesirable (would it be asking for too much to actually be desirable at her age?). Here, the environment wasn’t neutral at all; everywhere everything reminded her of her son: his books, the posters, even the dust on the coffee table was almost looking as though it was his own.

        So she had to adjust. Contort her energy to fit —to crumple herself!— into this place, as it would be likely she would spend quite some time here. She wasn’t asking for much really, as she wasn’t able to move from the bed he’d had installed in the spare room. Ghastly room, with a creepy wallpaper from a has-been era of the past days, year 2000 or close she’d guess, gaudy as it was… oriented to the south, with hardly bearable heat during the day. She would have loved to see the coast on the north, but instead, the only window was showing her the shade of the trees, and that ominous alligator-green mountain just behind.

        If she couldn’t project in her dreams as she managed to do before, she would soon either die of boredom or of heat. She wasn’t too sure which one would be the most painless and efficient.

        She pushed the button to have her bed roll a little closer to the window; once straightened up a bit, she was able to see the passageway to the mountain. She couldn’t explain why she didn’t like this mountain; it was quite beautiful; perhaps she feared to be lost and abandoned. All the more since she could feel so much presence in this environment. Unseen presence, and trickster ones too.

        She was tired, and yawned so much her tense jaw’s muscles ached.

        On the emerald path to the forest, a moving teal wisp of light caught her attention. Funny plays of light at this hour of the day. But the wisp was persistent, and it started to move towards her.

        “Good day Balbina!”

        The crazy rabbit was back again. And… she was sleeping? In or out?

        “In or out, smell my foot, it’s your choice, and matters not
        but be quick, and come forth, for Anita and her folks this wicked way come!”

        “The tune is set, the tunnel is close
        Of playfulness you’ll need a hefty dose”

        #1168

        Military hospital, Scott Base, October 2008

        “It’s BLOODY freezing ‘ere!” a hirsute mop of hair was whining on a camp bed next to two others.

        “Would you just shut the flove up, Glo! You’ve been whining for ‘ours now! It’s not bloddy believable…”
        “Like Mavis says, Glo! We all got in that same bloddy boat ye know… It’s no bed of stinkin’ roses for us either!”

        A long sigh came from Glo, again interrupting the silence.

        “A bloddy pity, you have to admit; being a lady, with PMS for years… At least I could console meself I didn’t have to shave like a man for Pete’s sake! And now we’re over with bloddy PMS, we are as hairy as gorillas!”

        “Don’t be silly Glo, they said they’d find a cure… innit Sha? T’is not what they said? Vessie promised us!”
        “Yeah, just before that little trollop ran away with the others, leaving us in quarantine… Not even a consideration for our efforts to help her seduce the sexy guy …”
        “Ungrateful yeah… When we could have stolen the guy’s heart easily…”
        “Ahahaha, no blimin’ way! not with your new hairdo Sha dear… Ahahah, don’t mean to be rude!”
        “Hey girls, any idea where’s Askitoy?…”
        Akita ?”
        “Put him in confinement I reckon… The poor bloke was delirious, saying he was a WWII soldier…”
        “Good thing the bloddy honeycomb didn’t make us loose our sharp wits, eh!”

        #1162
        ÉricÉric
        Keymaster

          Rneyl ba na Bpgbore zbeavat. Gurer vf gur cebzvfr bs urng va gur fxl ohg sbe abj rirelguvat vf pbby naq fgvyy. Fur bcraf gur onpx qbbe bs gur pbggntr naq naq fvgf qbja pnershyyl ba gur jbbqra fgrc. Ure obql uhegf sebz gur avtug.

          V xvyy guvatf, fur guvaxf, fheirlvat gur qel oebja cynagf va gur fznyy tneqra fur unq gevrq gb perngr.

          Fur jbaqref vs gurer vf fbzrguvat gung jnagf gb pbzr gb yvsr vafvqr bs ure, gura uvqrf sebz gur gubhtug. Abg orpnhfr fur qbrf abg jnag vg, ohg orpnhfr fur vf nsenvq. Fur qbrf abg xabj ubj gb oevat guvf guvat gb yvsr. Gur fueviryyrq cynagf orne funec grfgvzbal gb ure snvyher…

          [ encoded in ROT13 ]

          “What is that?” she asks. “It doesn’t come from The Book, does it?”
          “Well, our best team of psychic archaeologists just got it retrieved from purported old discarded bits in the Crypt.”
          “of…? You mean… apocryphal part of The Book? Are you serious?”
          “Quite possible, you see. Do you know what’s the ancient meaning behind that word ‘apocryphal’?”
          “You tell me.”
          ‘those having been hidden away’… But the intricacy of this reality makes it possible for us, in the future of The Book, to re-insert it directly into the past.”
          “So they’re no longer ‘apocryphal’…”
          “You could look them up actually, and perhaps you’ll find even the part where they’re speaking about us finding it even…”

          :fleuron:

          — Aaaaalbert! You’re not ferreting again in my old discarded files, are you?
          — Err… No, of course not Tina.

          Al quickly changed the view on the cyputer and added with a hint of malice in his voice “You don’t have anything to hide from me anyway, isn’t it?”
          “Don’t be silly Al, and you’d better prepare yourself. We’ll be late for the big Hallowe’en party at the Father Chase Memorial Garden. Becky’s supposed to make an apparition at the party, remember.”
          “Becky? You mean… The Becky?”
          “Yeah… You’re so absent-minded sometimes sweetie, good thing you got me, Sumafi as you are. Yes, that old twaddle-speaking silly exotic Becky, the one and unique!”

          #1161

          Perhaps I was a bit hasty in firing dear old Bronkel, poondered Elizabeth with a twinge of guoolt. Sure, he was mad as Almad and obsessed with deadlines, but at least he didn’t do my head in with all this psycho-booble like Godfrey PigLittleton.

          She sighed, and cast her eyes towards Lemone’s quote of the day for the descending. All morning she had been pondering the implications of his words:

          Clarify certain aspects, and take responsibility for how your energy is displayed, and do not rely on the machine to do it.

          Do not rely on the machine! Of course, herein lay the answer to all her diloomnas! She had been relying far too heavily on the machine.

          Which one though?

          She strongly suspected the compooter but she also knew he was a tricky booger that Lemone. Always talking in riddles.

          #2030

          In reply to: Scrying the Word Cloud

          ÉricÉric
          Keymaster

            Some selected bits from one tag cumulo-cloud:

            — “Matter (is) dimensional energies realized”
            — “Expect Hector (to) surface, Rafaela!”
            — “Leonora gets (to) keep saying ‘play attention!’”
            — “Close rain, friend magic, hope water seeing”
            — “Far within thinking, Arona sort days, (her) hold gives human comments great meaning”
            — “Soon blue seconds, call straight (at the) door, met surely physical; notice move (of) essence (in) fat huge dreams”
            — “Universe appear (in) book story”
            — “Malvina line although familiar answered busy funny heading”
            — “Tina looked love taking lots question indeed”
            — “Word usually working (in) short shifting pooh adventure”
            — “Seems Armelle starting soft reason; strange perhaps (in the) middle (of) rolling help (one may) spot dragons’ truth past spider times”
            — “‘Tell inside reality’: three words step (to) creating”
            — “Becky, allow yourself finding single beautiful playing light, dear”
            — “Cloud impulse shall house explain surprised black connection”
            — “Cool trust(ed) friends, portal plane”
            — “Aliens coincidence next talking”
            — “Walking arms seem flight silence; stone creature sound already entered field (of) aware(ness); scene trip apparently given reading”
            — “Beyond rolled Theresa, lately cave telling unusual morning”
            — “Wortex large, merely Glo”

            #1157
            ÉricÉric
            Keymaster

              “Companions, we should start an aaadventure!” Angela the White Goose stammered to her friends.

              Freaky the Ferret couldn’t help but notice the stammering which heard like a typing typo. “Speaking of which, it’s been weeks we haven’t got any news from Arky the Aardvark, have we?”

              “Go figure,… my bets are on an aliens’ abduction” said Weirdy the Weasel rather gloomily.

              “Don’t tell that!” Angela’s look of horror on her face was leaving her paler than the white of her pristine white feather —if that would have been possible, of course.

              “You know the aliens… Zey’ve started to move a few days ago… I heard the zoo-keeper tell about it” added Jobby the baby pygmy hippo with his most funny conspiratorial look.

              “And they brought in a big lady anaconda, it came yesterday from nowhere!” Angela chimed in.

              “Perhaps she knows something…”

              #1145

              “Listen to this, Bea” Leonora said.

              Bea looked up from her book “What’s that then Leo? I’m just getting to the juicy part where T’eggy gets….”

              “Listen to this” Leo interrupted, and read from the book she was reading, “As a writer I feel free to do anything I please, investigating anything, saying anything…..as a writer I feel free to be psychic as a bird, do what I please and use my abilities psychically quite freely. When I think of me as a psychic I get hung up because I seem to be in the company of so many nuts. Writers may be as nuts as anyone else but it’s a nuttiness that doesn’t bug me ~ there’s no dogma attached…..”

              “What on earth are you reading, Leo?”

              “The memoirs of Jane Roberts” replied Leonora. “What a coincidence this is! I was just starting to think about writing some fiction, you know? Because when you write fiction nobody really questions what you write, it’s easier, somehow.”

              “Well if it’s fiction you’re after, I can recommend T’Eggy Gets A Good Rogering, it’s brilliant.” replied Bea helpfully.

              “Bloody hell, Bea!” said Leonora in exasperation. “I want to write tasteful enlightening fiction, wonderful stories with a moral and a point and a lesson ~ I don’t want to read the trash you read!”

              “Suit yourself, you judgmental cow” replied Bea huffily. “And anyway, you haven’t even read it, so how would you know?”

              #1135

              — “Dory?”
              — “What, hon’?” a distracted Dory answered to young Becky
              — “You’d better remove the magnets from the iron, or you’ll ruin another one…”
              — “What are you talking about?!” Dory was perplexed, trying to find her way through the airport to Gate 57-¾, but only to find nothing but benches in between Gate 57 and 58.
              — “Oh, never mind… It’s only a dream and you probably won’t remember it anyway.”

              “There!” the suspicious bag lady of the Heathrow terminal had reappeared briefly just for Dory to spot her entering the restrooms.
              Becky was already rolling the heavy bumper-stickers patched suitcase to follow her without question.

              — “But why are you taking the suitcase to go to the bathroom, Beck’?”
              — “What are you talking about Dory!” Becky was sometimes losing patience. “Can’t you see it’s the entrance for Gate 57-¾?!”
              — “Uh?” A moment of clueless mystery on Dory’s face. “Oh…” Another mini-black hole on her face.

              “Oh. Okay then. Let’s go…”

              If there was something that her exotic life had taught Dory, it was to never question the moment. If the circumstances are here, if the impulse is there, then go for it. Explanations will follow. And in case they don’t, make them up as you roll and rock!

              Becky meanwhile was rather surprised at how people, even her own step-mother, as tuned in ghostly stuff as she was, most of the time failed to see the things for what they really are. And if these big painted letters on the door “GATE 57 ¾” weren’t obvious enough, and people preferred to interpret them as restrooms, then… what else could be done? She sighed.
              Later on, she would learn that it was a common, well documented trait in human consciousness; that people were sometimes psychologically (but not physically) blind to stuff outside of their current focus of attention, or simply blind to things too far off their beliefs; in other terms, it was a matter of energy reconfiguration. As long as it worked…

              “Oh look at that… Yukailli Airlines counter is here! What bloody stupid idea to put a closet door at the entrance…”

              After having made the departure arrangements at the counter, Dory came back to Becky who was looking outside at the planes.

              — “Ain’t them beautiful?”
              — “Yeah, and I suppose you’re seeing planes, aren’t you?”
              — “Err, yes of course, what else, silly… Though now you ask me, they seem a bit weird… foggy or something”.

              In fact, what Becky was seeing wasn’t conventional planes. It was more like “fly-boats”. Some sorts of hybrid ships made to fly with huge wings transparent and shiny like those of flies.

              — “I hope they have crunchy coleslaw for meal, I’m starving” a contented and tired Dory said, when she collapsed into the comfortable seats.

              #1128

              When Balbina woke up from that which had been her longest and strangest projection out of her body ever, all the memories of this fantastic adventure were oddly still fresh and crystal clear in her mind.

              She doubted that it may have been as real as she has perceived it to be; but the funny rabbit, before they all entered the long dark tunnel, had winked at her and told her there would be signs for her.

              Outside the window, the sunlight was starting to show on the Cordillera de la Costa, the nearby mountains.
              She was feeling strangely rejuvenated by this unexpected night spent in far-away travels, and it was almost as if her whole body was feeling better than it ever was.
              But of course, it was more of the same. Fabella, the nurse would soon enter and great her with a…

              “Did Madam sleep well?”
              “Quite, yes”… Her voice was quivering. Hardly the youthful voice she had during her projections out of the body.

              So, there she was again, in that old people house, and no way out of this mis…

              “What?!” she made the nurse busy cleaning her instruments repeat —to which she was far too pleased to comply.
              “Yes, Madam, your son phoned this morning and told he would come for you…”

              Her son? That was most unexpected.

              What did the rabbit said already? Help would come from the most unexpected corners… Well, she had almost forgotten that this corner still existed!

              “Did he say something else?”
              “Oh, I’m not really allowed to tell, M’am…”
              “But of course, you can’t really resist (little goose)” simpered the old wincing lady in a whisper to herself.
              Fabella was indeed continuing, unstoppable “… but he seems to consider it’s too expensive to have you here, and would love to have you home with him”

              Well, of course, you can’t really expect him to be so generous for no reason Balbina was thinking… But anything would probably be better than this old fools’ home. Even her son’s home.

              Besides, it was located outside Caracas, near the mountains… And if the funny rabbit’s directions were correct, it was very, very close from where her hosts (provided they existed of course) were to re-emerge.

              She’d never imagined that falling into the abyss of sweet madness would be so exciting.

              #1123

              Upon hearing Malvina’s thoughts, Arona smiled to herself.

              If only she knew the truth!

              ( If I put big spaces in-between, it will make it look as though I have written more, decided Tina rather cleverly, still feeling a bit creatively uninspired.)

              Tempted though she was, Arona knew she must not give anything away. It was easier to stay in character if she did not allow herself to remember too often, at least until this cave mission was complete. Occasionally she allowed herself the luxury of remembering, yet to do so was to feel a yearning for home.

              It was a pity about the outfit of course, the mouldy cloak…

              ( hmmm was it mouldy though or just a bit on the musty side? )

              … which the Oddlings had decided she would wear for much of this assignment was not her favourite look. Even though she had managed eventually to lose it in the darkness of the cave, her current clothes were now almost in tatters. Arona sighed wistfully, remembering the beautiful silks, chiffons and organzas some of her previous assignments.

              Moments later she brightened again thinking of Vincentius and her other friends.

              There were certainly compensations, she decided philosophically.

              Arona was a little concerned about the meddling of Malvina and the others, although of course she realised they were doing it with the best of intentions to fulfill their own purposes. Arona understood all this, and sometimes regretted she could not tell them who she really was. The powerful thought shields she had been trained in by the Oddlings meant that her disguise had not so far been penetrated.

              Yet she hated to deceive.

              Not to worry. For now she must just focus on the completion of her own mission here.

              She called to Buckberry softly in her thoughts and felt a little thrill of excitement when she heard his response. She knew she would have need of the little dragon for the task which lay ahead.

              #1121
              TracyTracy
              Participant

                “George laughed pleasantly and said, But of course, I understand! Just be remembering, he added with a twinkle, that I am always available. And I have the ‘whole book’ in my carpet bag.

                “The Whole Book in his bag, eh” said Becky, thinking that it sounded very meaningful and profound, although she couldn’t quite put her finger on it. Well, it was late.

                #1112

                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.

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