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  • #3469

    Fanella was riding her new zebra friend in a big dry meadow. Something she had never seen before. There were other animals with them and it was delightful. The flight of the cranes transported her up to the clouds while the crocodiles would clap in unison in the marshes.
    The zebra had told her his name. Rene he was, and glad he’d met her before it was too late. He also said something that she didn’t quite understand. “Other friends are coming, you don’t have to worry.” Why worry when she was with Rene ? Other friends ? Lisa was coming back for her with Sanso ? “We’ll meet soon”, said Rene. Now she was having hallucinations. He was a tall man, half an ebony skin, half white and black zebra stripes. But he was already fading away.
    The return back to reality was harsh. She gagged and disgorged sea water on the beach. It felt as if she had been torn inside out.

    “There, there. Welcome back young Miss. You’re safe, now”, said a man. He was wearing a smile but she felt it was just a facade.
    “Are you okay ?” she asked. Even in the midst of drowning, her maternal instinct was stronger. Surprised showed up on the man’s face.
    “What do you mean ?”
    “You’re all yellow.”
    The man laughed. “I’m quite normal, young lady. Quite normal.” He put his jacket on her shoulders to help keep her warmth as social rules demanded. It was relatively dry, whereas he was drenched. He must have took it off before rescuing her from the sea.

    “We should have left her to the barracudas”, said another man. He wore a blue turban, casting a shadow on an already hard face. It was marked by a circular fresh scar around his nose, made by countless small sharp teeth. The flesh seemed to pulsate painfully. She shuddered when she saw his hook-leg, the hook half burried in the sand. She didn’t want to imagine what he could do with it.

    “Don’t pay attention to Berberus”, said the first man, “We have no business in hurting young beautiful ladies.”
    Something in his smile told her that it wasn’t always true. She forced herself a gracious face, as she had learned to do with the noble men back then in Versailles.
    “Thank you for rescuing me, Sir.” She pulled on the edges of the jacket as if she needed warmth. “My name is Fanetta”, she added, lowering her eyes.

    #3336

    “Who the fuck stuck all these disgusting patches all over me?” Lisa shouted when she noticed them, and thus promptly forgot her dream. “Why have you gone so red in the face, Jack?”
    In an attempt to deflect the attention from himself, he countered: “Why were you standing on the table?”
    Lisa rose to the bait and replied that she was assessing the possibility of hanging the new map mannequin, the one that wouldn’t stand up on her own, from the beams on the kitchen ceiling.
    “I feel inspired to continue the map collage, now that I have an idea for where to put her when she’s finished.”
    Jack yawned, somewhat rudely.
    Lisa angrily pulled another patch off her left buttock. “You better be wondering what’s in your dinner later, Jack.” she said ominously.

    #3290
    F LoveF Love
    Participant

      After a moment of stunned silence, Sadie decided that trusting in synchronicity to provide the answers, or rather the questions, was her best course of action. She quickly pulled up a random question generator on the e-zapper and asked politely, “Have you always had such arousing arms?”

      #3272
      EricEric
      Keymaster

        “There is a fine balance between touch ups and shoehorning”
        Jonbert was half-listening to the rant of his tailor and shoemaker, as he was trying on a new outfit and tartan kilt.
        Jonbert’s temper had improved slightly, and he was up to moderate amount of grumpiness as he’d learnt of the arrival of the elder whale, and of the throwing of his guests in the midst of the cetaceans. That explained how he could tolerate much of it.

        “You can’t just shoehorn any pattern under the pretext that you fancy it. It has to be in harmony with the moment, in pure synchronistic bliss.” His tailor, Erldrich Lumoncelli, was often prone to bouts of philosophical ramblings that Jonbert had to suffer to get the perfect tailored suits he wanted.

        “Oh, bugger that nonsense,” he suddenly shouted, unable to suffer more of the airy monologue. “You’ll give me that gold and orange tartan and those yellow dots on my green shoes if I tell you so. Orange will bring out my shiny hair and light complexion I reckon.”

        Color-blind Jonbert wasn’t obviously as savvy for colour matching as he was for time-travelling business, but Erldrich knew better than to infuriate him with aesthetic negotiations.
        “Very well Sir.”
        He finished taking the measurements quickly, folded back the swatches of textile, and bowed out as if his house was on fire.

        Jonbert pulled back his heavy mane of hair into a neat French catogan, truly a unapologetic snobbishness on his part, as it didn’t look very different from a usual ponytail, but somehow sounded more distinguished. Nobody likes to be compared to a pony, do they?
        He walked past the great central hall of the submarine, into the Sightseethroughing Dome Room, and considered for a moment to visit the butterfly nursery, in case the new butterflies were hatched yet. But if butterflies had taught him something is that you couldn’t hurry and cut open a cocoon before the butterfly was ready. There was no such thing as a mythical half-caterpillar half-butterfly creature, every change was a complete change, and it had its own timing.

        But now things were back on course, and the 22nd of February 2222 was still days ahead. Time again was on his side.

        #3169
        TracyTracy
        Participant

          As Sadie pulled open the seam of the crocheted ferret a dreadful smell wafted out.
          “I’m not putting my hand inside there, key or no key” said Terry. “Smells like dead fish how revolting!”
          “That’s because is IS dead fish, look!” exclaimed Consuela.
          “Thanks for all the fish” muttered Sadie crossly. “The key must be in the other ferret. Someone must have tampered with the tags. It would appear that we’ve been hoodwinked and this is the decoy meant for the Russians.”
          “Does that mean we can tie these actors up and gag them, then?” asked Terry hopefully.
          “Yes alright” replied Sadie, distracted. “We may need some extra time after all.”

          #3020
          TracyTracy
          Participant

            “Wordblade! I know you’re under there, come out!” Mari Fe hissed, her voice muffled under her disguise. When his face appeared through the folds of velvet, she laughed. “What have you done to the band music? Have you heard them? Somebody’s slaughtered their notes, was it you?”

            The Wordblade eased himself out from under the heavy carved platform, glancing up and raising an eyebrow at the statue of Jesus towering above him.

            “Very fetching” he said, as he pulled Mari Fe’s red pointy hat off and put it on his own head. “I saw lots of these hats in an 2nd hand shop in, when was it, oh around 2027 I think. Nobody could remember what they were for.”

            “Never mind that, can you do something about the slaughter of the musical notes? There hasn’t been any requirement for surge diversion tactics so far during Semana Santa this year, the energy has been very relaxed and disorganized, less regimental and alot less intense. You were supposed to check in with me first”, Mari Fe said, “But then, who wants to do what they’re supposed to these days?”

            #3009
            TracyTracy
            Participant

              It was the month of mass lunacy, and all through the house, all the creatures were snoring, except the mouse. All mad as Almad on the Rides o9f March, Mari Fe cackled out loud, then pulled a face, remembering the feel of the spongy mouse between her fingers in the kitchen sink. Expecting the blockage in the drain to be dog hairs, the surprisingly solid but spongy feel had been a shock, and the sensation had lingered nauseatingly.

              How long had he been in the mop bucket? Then it dawned on her ~ the dog leg riddle. Of course! He appeared just after the first dog leg clue ~ and no doubt left, via the mop bucket, when the dog leg riddle was solved.

              Mari Fe shivered, it was all rather spooky. No wonder she felt a bit mad.

              #2980
              TracyTracy
              Participant

                Mari Fe managed to find the earplugs, and gave them to Katarina. “Shove these in her ears will you, I need to calm down and catch my breath.” By this time Pearl was catatonic with Meloncholy, and Katarina had no trouble inserting the earplugs.

                Mari Fe pulled a carpet off the pile, threw it down onto the shop doorway step, and flopped down. She automatically pulled her ephone out of her pocket, and without thinking found herself checking in to FBF2. “She’s done it again!” she exclamined, jumping up. “ Tanit! She deactivated her FBF2 account 2 days ago ~ at exactly the same time as Elza reactivated her surge team location chip and took the Moscow case.”

                “Is that relevant?” asked Katarina, who was gently slapping Pearls cheeks, trying to revive her from the effects of the hypnotic melancholy choir.

                But Mari Fe didn’t reply. She was following the other two ladies, who had disappeared into the back room.

                #2865

                In reply to: Tales of Tw’Elves

                TracyTracy
                Participant

                  “Rendezvous at Hunchies in an hour” whispered the housekeeper, furtively looking over her shoulder as she pulled off her rubber mask. The elevator doors opened as she was shaking out her sweaty red hair, the lank strands whipping the bowler hat of the man who was rushing out.

                  #2756

                  In reply to: Tales of Tw’Elves

                  TracyTracy
                  Participant

                    It had been several days since the Sinstringia sank not far from Rome and Luigi’s niece Flinella was still missing. She had been on board the cruise ship, a last minute decision to take the trip. When the police had banged on the door of her apartment the previous week, she fled through the bedroom window. She started to run, and realized it was attracting attention, so she slowed her pace and projected the impression that blue and white night shirts were the latest fashion. The slower pace calmed her somewhat, until she realized that the latest fashion energy she was projecting was also attracting attention, so she pulled some plastic bags out of a rubbish container and projected bag lady energy instead, and became virtually invisible.

                    #2818

                    In reply to: Snowflakes of Tens

                    F LoveF Love
                    Participant

                      Alfred, the clockwork Murganian, suddenly remembered he had an overdue library book.

                      He picked up the dusty book from the oven, took off his coat, rolled to the door and pulled a key from his shoe to let himself out. It was such a very long time since he had been out and he was most surprised to find that the seeds he had planted in the sky some time ago had grown to such an extent that his pathway was no longer accessible.

                      What to do? wondered Alfred. He wondered for a few minutes then realised that wondering was getting him nowhere and action was called for.

                      “Help” he shouted.

                      {link – key}

                      #2405

                      “These tapas are lovely, eh, Leo, what are they?” asked Bea.

                      “Arana Rebozada, whatever that is, some kind of squid I suppose, nice and crunchy anyway, whatever it is” replied Leo, who couldn’t remember the names of any of the characters in the new thread either.

                      Fishing into the depths of her capacious handbag, Bea pulled out a battered Spanish dictionary. “Oh here we are” she said, as she swallowed the last tasty morsel. “Breaded spiders.”

                      :yahoo_sick:

                      #2280

                      It was a pleasant walk to the Academy from Ann’s student digs, the leafy suburbs of Poubelleville were dappled with sunlight and sweetly scented with lilac blossom. Bird twittered in the trees and miniature zebras nibbled at the grass verges as Ann made her way to class. As she walked past a sidewalk cafe she spotted Monica, or rather Monica spotted Ann, and called her over to join her for a cup of rhubarb tea. Ann had forgotten she was late for class, and gave Monica the customary seven kisses ~ three on each cheek, and a final one on the nose ~ and pulled out a chair.

                      True to form ~ for Monica was the Academy’s best known gossip ~ after the inital pleasantries, the conversation soon turned to the latest scandal. Max the janitor, one of the students, and Professor Moose had been caught engaging in a menage a trois in the broom cupboard.

                      “All in aid of an assignment, so they said” explained Monica. “Who did you choose for your menage a trois, Ann? You’re in old Moose’s class, aren’t you?”

                      “Yeah, but I didn’t translate the assigment that way.” Ann frowned. “Gosh, I wrote a haiku about slobber instead, everyone will think I’m all prim and prunes.”

                      “Well, we only need one more” replied Monica with a sly grin.

                      “What?” Ann blushed as she cottoned on. “Oh!”

                      Monica wriggled about in her chair, revealing an expanse of lean tanned thigh, not altogether accidentally.

                      “Mind if I join you?” asked Good God Gordy, calling to the waiter for a cup of Hornygoatweed tea.

                      #2220

                      And look at the funny messages her business cards have on them! Lavender pulled a selection of cards from her purse. I mean how weird is this:

                      Lester’s ex-wife keeps the milk cold. Batman316 is a nugget

                      and listen to this one:

                      We have a lot of fun doing it and you can too.

                      So I just knew it had to be some sort of clue. So you know me … I just had to make an appointment to see her!

                      Oh of course, agreed Decimus, scratching his ear. You don’t have a business card for Dr Limur in there by any chance do you?

                      oh no, sorry. Anyway, before I meet Annabel, I intend to go shopping for some new parasites. Aspidistra asked me to bring some back for her … and it is the least I can do really.

                      Yes, parasites sound great, sighed Decimus. You know the name of Annabel Ingram does ring a bell. Is she the one who takes guided tours of the Doorway of the Goddess Amarylis Moo Rue?

                      #1215

                      “Well, Sanso” said Zhaana a trifle breathlessly, her flushed with wonder. “ The Elsepace Arrangement was certainly an eye opener, if eye opener is the right word. So what next?”

                      Sanso laughed uproariously. “What next? What next, AHAAAHAA HA HA! What next indeed!”

                      “What’s so funny?” asked the little girl, her face starting to crumple.

                      “Oh don’t do the old crumple face, Zhaana, I’m laughing at myself as much as anything” Sanso replied, giving her a quick hug. He couldn’t bear the sight of crumple faced children.

                      “Well, I still don’t understand why you’re laughing” she replied with a pout.

                      “It’s actually a very good question, and one I sometimes find I ask myself. Well, I used to ask myself “what next” all the time, as if it was somehow important to know where I was going next, to have a destination or a plan.”

                      “But if you don’t have a destination, how do you know where to go next?” Zhaana was confused.

                      Sanso smiled. “It doesn’t matter where you go next, little one, because you’re always at the centre of everything. You can go in any direction you want and you’ll always be at the centre of everything.”

                      “Well if that’s the case, why not just stay right where I am, then?”

                      “Do you want to do that? Stay right where you are?”

                      “No! I …er….no! of course not!”

                      “Why not?” Sanso asked with a gentle smile.

                      “Well, if I stay right here, and don’t go in any direction, everything will always be the same” she replied, frowning.

                      “And what would be wrong with that?”

                      Zhaana had to think about this. “Well, it wouldn’t be wrong I guess, but it would be boring. There wouldn’t be any surprises…..”

                      “Ah so you like surprises, then!” Sanso was grinning.

                      “Yes, I love surprises!”

                      “Well then why do you want to plan where you’re going next?”

                      Zhaana opened and closed her mouth like a goldfish. Sanso was confusing her, and she didn’t know what to say.

                      “OK then, Sanso, you are always wandering around, how do you decide where to go next?” asked Zhaana, rather cleverly responding to the difficult question with a question of her own.

                      “I get an impulse, or I see a sign, and I follow it.”

                      “What do you mean, a sign?” Zhaana understood about impulses: after all, she had followed her impulse to leave horrid old Uncle Grishenka and follow Sanso into the cave. She wasn’t sure about signs, though.

                      “I’m not sure I can describe a sign, really. They just appear, and so I notice them.”

                      “Well, after you notice them, then what?”

                      “Well” said Sanso “Then you interpret the sign however you want to, and then you act on it.”

                      “You can interpret the sign however you want?” asked Zhaana with a hint of disbelief in her voice.

                      “Yup” replied Sanso. “That’s about the size of it, Sweetpea.”

                      ~~~

                      “Oh Godfrey, I’ve been trying to get the theme word into this entry and I’m just not getting any closer.” Elizabeth sighed, and pushed her keyboard away. Quickly she pulled the keyboard back so that she could write what Godfrey replied.

                      “Have some more peanuts, Liz” he replied with a laugh.

                      Elizabeth pushed the keyboard away again and passed Godfrey the peanuts .

                      A few moments later Elizabeth pulled the keyboard back and wrote:

                      ~~~

                      Sanso, a word just popped into my head, do you think it might be a sign?” Zhaana asked excitedly. “It just popped in from nowhere!”

                      “Sure it’ll be a clue, and what was the word?” he replied, trying unsuccessfully to suppress a chuckle. He had heard the word too, and knew exactly where it was coming from, but he wasn’t going to spoil the moment for his little friend.

                      “Moonbeams!” she announced proudly. “I heard the word moonbeams !”

                      #1118

                      The corridors were unusually long and Malvina was thinking of urging Leormn back to the cave, but she pulled herself together and began to sing a well known song of her friends’ world.

                      :fleuron:

                      Mandrake was trying desperately to relax, but apparently Yikesy wasn’t seeing it that way. Vincentius was so patient that it wasn’t human… well he wasn’t human after all, and Mandrake was beginning to doubt the baby could be human too, his dark rocky face notwithstanding.

                      After all he had done to amuse him, the baby’s responses were quite disappointing. His subtle puns, his witticisms and his elaborate jokes all overlooked… And worse, that devilish baby dared pull his tail! Mandrake couldn’t help a disgraceful meow before he ran away from the scoundrel.
                      Vincentius had told him the baby was a bit young, but the cat was suspecting a particularly mischievous tendency.

                      The baby stopped crying and shouting. That’s when Mandrake realized someone was coming.
                      Strange song really, he had never heard that language before… maybe it was just jibberish. He sprang on his feet and sidestepped skillfully another attempt of the little one to catch his tail. It was the occasion he was waiting for.

                      :fleuron:

                      Focused on her 100th kilometer, Malvina hadn’t notice she was arrived. Vincentius was attending to the child’s need and she had just the time to notice the cat who had just snaked under her petticoat.

                      Mandrake, be careful! I almost walked on your tail…

                      — Meow! (that one was quite elegant and he was proud of it) Well, he said ironically, I was trained by the boy…

                      She laughed at the idea of Mandrake tormented by Yikesy.

                      — He’s Yike a cyclone, not resting until complete exhaustion.
                      The trace of bitterness in his tone surprised him, though he began to relax under her smile. That was a long time since he hadn’t purred like that… he really liked her presence and energy, and it seemed to influence the kid also.

                      — Are you going to make him sleep? he asked eagerly.

                      — Oh no, I’ve merely soothed your energy and the baby is responding quite readily to the newborn calmness of the room.

                      — That was rude, he said as if offended, but he was grateful for it. Vincentius, my dear fellow companion in this godforsaken place, he called to divert attention from him. Look at who’s here.

                      The semi-god turn quickly his head and bowed it slightly before returning to his main preoccupation.

                      — He’s a bit rude too. He had barely welcomed you…

                      — Well he’s quite aware I’m not here for him or the baby.

                      #944
                      EricEric
                      Keymaster

                        Becky pulled a loose cotton dress out of the suitcase, and scowled at her bikinis. I’ll go for a long hike, she muttered to herself, slipping a pair of strappy mule sandals on her feet. At least my legs aren’t fat! she said, admiring her slim ankles…

                        She stopped for a while wondering why this scene seemed so familiar. She had lived that day already… Was she going crazy?
                        What would you expect with time-traveling affairs? the voice of one of her babies smirked at her…

                        #942
                        TracyTracy
                        Participant

                          Becky pulled a loose cotton dress out of the suitcase, and scowled at her bikinis. I’ll go for a long hike, she muttered to herself, slipping a pair of strappy mule sandals on her feet. At least my legs aren’t fat! she said, admiring her slim ankles.

                          Slamming the door of the hotel bedroom behind her, Becky trotted down the stairs, hesitating momentarily at the dining room, she decided against breakfast, and strode out of the door into the morning sunshine.

                          Squinting in the glare of the bright tropical sun, Becky swore under her breath. Forgot my fucking sunglasses, damn! Not wanting to return to the bedroom and see Sean again, Becky strode on.

                          She walked and walked, hardly noticing a thing as she grumbled and fretted to herself. She reached the edge of the town and carried on walking; not paying attention to where she was going, she made randon turns to left and right, and eventually the paved roads petered out into dirt paths, and still Becky strode on in her flimsy sandals, squinting with the sun and the sweat that was dripping into her eyes.

                          By the middle of the afternoon, Becky was hopelessly lost and close to swooning with hunger and the overpowering heat, but she stumbled on. A sudden sharp pain almost doubled her over, and she stood clutching her stomach. Shit, I should have had breakfast, she swore under her breath, mistaking the pain for a hunger pang.

                          Perhaps a trifle unwisely, Becky decided to run, in an attempt to find the nearest house or village in which she could find a morsel to eat. Before long the inevitable happened, and she twisted her ankle on a stone and fell heavily, banging her head and knocking herself blissfully unconscious.

                          #877

                          Oh for foocks sake, Finnley grumbled, does that woman never go home?

                          Elizabeth Tattler was passed out on the desk, two empty wine boottles on the floor beside her chair.

                          Foock you too! Foock you too! Screeched Robert X

                          She grinned, she quite enjoyed Robert X, or MrX as she liked to call him.

                          So what’s our Elizabeth been up to eh Mr X? Finnley picked up the messy pile of papers on the desk and carefully put them in order. They looked sort of interesting. Maybe it was time for a rest break. She pulled out her vegemoot sandwooches on chunks of rye bread, and, carefully dusting it first, she sat down on a big armchair in the corner of the office to read.

                          Twenty minoots later she threw the pages on the floor in disgust, but then, disturbed by the mess it made, picked them up again.

                          The character Veranassessee left her particularly disturbed. What a name! And what a Wishy Wooshy Noomby Poomby. Whats all this YES YES YES businoos! That Agent Gabriele was a selfish and dictatorial bastood as far as she could tell.

                          She would see about that! She was no writer but she was sure she could do better than this load of old mongoat droppings.

                          Well she would if she could find a pen on Ms Tattler’s shamboolic desk anyway.

                          :fleuron:

                          Veranassessee (V) drew back from his sloppy kisses. Wait! Have you got protection? she asked, imperatively and sensibly.

                          Protection? … my gun is under the pillow … oh right I see what you mean, stuttered Agent Gabriele apologetically, reluctantly pulling himself from making suction noises on her breast to rummage for a condom in his suitcase.

                          Great, now say that stuff again. You know all that crap about how beautiful I am. I sort of liked it.

                          Agent Gabriele willingly obliged. Of course V recognised it for the lustful rubbish it was … still might as well have a bit of fun. He was damn good looking.

                          Perfect, she said. Now, what position do you prefer?

                          He was momentarily speechless, stunned, and even more aroused, if that was indeed possible, by her forthrightness.

                          She rolled her eyes. Yes, you know POSITION … on top … underneath ..front … back… through a hole in a blanket …? myself I like to keep things simple, don’t want to make too much mess around the place.

                          Anything you want Darling Agent V.

                          A little bit later he sighed contentedly. You are by far the best lover I have ever had.

                          Thanks, everyone says that. Hey! Put out that cigarette, there’s no smoking inside you know. She looked critically around the room. You know this room could do with a damn good clean, I could see dust on the headboard, you know, while we were doing it.

                          I’ll make sure I clean it next time, he murmered huskily, kissing her, and saying that stuff again, about how perfect she was.

                          :fleuron:

                          Finnley giggled to herself. Much better! Well who’d have thought she would have a bit of a gift for writing. Carefully she replaced the pages under the telepooh and made her exit. With a bit of luck Ms Tattler would never notice.

                          #872
                          F LoveF Love
                          Participant

                            His door was open. He had his back to her, looking out at the storm. Veranassessee knocked lightly on the door and entered. He turned towards her.

                            You’re wet Agent V, he said, his eyes running slowly up and down her body.

                            His gaze came back to her face and their eyes locked. She felt her knees go weak. God does that really happen?

                            Why had nothing changed? She had not seen him for so long, had almost forgotten about him. She loved Mahiliki… didn’t she? She had managed to convince herself that Agent Gabriele was in the past. That was where he belonged. He was a fantasy.

                            She was not a child anymore.

                            God, but he was gorgeous though. Dark, sexy, he gave off an aura of untamed passion just barely suppressed below the surface. His face was more mature, more closed off than before, but still almost unbelievably handsome. At one time she had known every line of his face, memorized it, retraced it over and over in her imagination. She thought she had known him.

                            He smiled. Better get you out of those wet clothes, you’re dripping on the carpet.

                            Still holding his gaze, almost defiantly she pulled her dress off and let it drop in a soggy heap on the ground.

                            She wanted this didn’t she? She turned and closed the door behind them.

                          Viewing 20 results - 61 through 80 (of 106 total)