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In reply to: The Time-Dragglers’ Extravaganzas
Elephants are not used to jump out of planes with a parachute in our reality. So when Lisa noticed a growing shadow around them. She raised her head and it took some time for her to make sense of what she was looking at. The huge grey butt of an elephant approaching relatively fast, desperately eager to establish contact.
It landed on Sanso who knocked by the shock fall into the bog. Now; there are certain chemicals in the bog that induce the hibernation process in a physical body. Sanso reacted to it quickly, blinked out of the island and found himself in a stasis between worlds.
“Sorry”, seemed to say the elephant with the cry elephants usually do. Then, it disappeared.
The three lone travelers looked at each other, feeling deeply lost.
Jube the Brave was having fun, playing his mass belief organ like a jazz musician.
In reply to: The Time-Dragglers’ Extravaganzas
King Artie was walking in the gardens along with the Chamberlain, on his way for a cooling bath in the rainwater tanks carved below the castle.
They stopped on the edge of the main courtyard, from which a large part of the land nearby could be seen. Plumes of steam where raising around the areas where the river’s water fell onto the land below. For the palace and the land were built high in the sky, believed to be latched upon an immense lump of earth, raised from the island by the roots of a giant beanstalk.
King Artie had never ventured outside of the castle. “Tell me Downson, is it true what they say, about that giant beanstalk? I’d like to see it sometime.”
The Chamberlain replied shaking his knuckle-less hand in the air. “Oh well, Majesty, a trip can be arranged, for certain. It would require some magi to guide us, but it can certainly be done. And of course, yes, it is true. Might not have been the case before, but you know, matter and reality sinks their roots deep into beliefs. Whatever the good people believes is, in fact,… actually true.”But King Artie’s mind was already quickly gone to another topic, not being too fond on dwelling on the metaphysical.
“Any word from Parsifal? Seems to have a unusual high activity of lost souls in the fog down below…”
“No, your Highness, no word yet from the Royal Sentries. Indeed, there has been unusual activity. Some people, I believe with a very active mind and quite an imagination. We had to ask our Priests to conduct a mass to repair a huge hole that appeared a few days ago.”
“Good. You should ask them to have the good people pray for some rain too. That damn heat is unbearable.”
“Of course, Sire. But you know, the good people’s beliefs are fickle, and apart from the farmers, a lot of the townsmen would prefer endless sun and no clouds. Hopefully our dear P’hope Jube the Brave will pray some sense into them.”
“Indeed. Otherwise, a good fall down the Fog Abyss will sure clean up our mass beliefs of those heretics, I expect.”In reply to: The Time-Dragglers’ Extravaganzas
The bell rang twice. Nobody was giving any sign of opening, until a lanky lad came at the door to open it, in long slow dragging strides on the carpeted floor.
“We’re here for the audition” an excited face pressed on the glass door, staining it with purple lipsticky marks.
The lad discreetly rolled his eyes, looked right and left, as if checking for some unseen danger, then released the magnetic lock. It was stuck, so he gave a yank and the door flung open, almost propelling the woman, and a child inside.
“This way” the lad showed them, guiding them in unnerving slow motion towards a room on the higher floor of the loft. A dozen of people were already waiting here. The lad showed them the ticket dispenser, and the child with the woman understood before her they had to pick one. 39.
The woman brushed the hair of the child compulsively and fought against invisible specks of dust on his coat, before they would sit.
“Twenty two.”
“Twenty. Two.”At the seat next to them, a child raised from his place, his mother pushing him towards the voice. This was as far as she could go with him.
After the child had disappeared in the next room, the purple lipstick woman leaned towards the lonely mother and started to talk to her in brisk hushed voice.
“You must be so proud… I’m proud too.”
Noticing reproaching looks from the others, she lowered her voice more.
“I was so excited when I heard about it… So many years and now. Imagine that, my son could become his disciple, imagine, his one and only disciple in years…”The other woman, who’d been patiently hearing the other one’s cackling suddenly turned red and replied in a voice that bore the certainty of a death sentence:
“Oh, but make no mistake M’am, I have nothing against your son, but no one will beat my Paul to it.”In reply to: The Time-Dragglers’ Extravaganzas
“Madam, I have found something…” Mr R was pointing at a large floating piece of moss in the middle of the bog where they had landed a few days ago.
“At last,… some excitement, whoo…” said Irina with a deadpan expression that left no doubt as to her current level of excitement.There weren’t many clues as to where and when they’d arrived, but she already hated it.
The bog for one, wasn’t her idea of a great retirement place. Of course, there were probably other places to explore on the island, it wasn’t as if she’d stay here permanently, but for now, if the bog was a nexus point of teleporting, she’d rather stay around, in case others would come from there. That was one of the first thing you learnt during the Training, to secure your entry points. You’d never know what to expect, teleporting whales were probably the least dangerous of the things that could get stranded here. And judging by the amount of strange objects littering the area, she and her robot weren’t the first thing to have been discarded here.She’d tasked Mr R, in his immense resourcefulness, to build her a proper watchtower, or just for now, a downsized version of what she’d felt would be a decent one.
A proof of the robot’s talent was that with barely nothing, he’d managed in the past days to bulldoze a clearing in a less wet portion of the land. There, the light’s plays were purely gorgeous, creating the smallest ripples and endless reflections on the green tinges of the water —something Irina could observe with wonder for hours. Mr R had also managed to cook her a rather lovely braised water rat, with fresh peppermint and lotus roots caramelized in wild bees’ honey.
He’d already built the foundations of a anthill-sized promontory, with a clean deck where she could rest on a surprinsingly comfortable deckchair made of driftwood and pieces of whatnots gathered around the place. That was were she was enjoying the last minutes of sun for the day, just about when he’d asked her to check on his discovery. It probably was important enough for the robot to disrupt her digestive meditation.“Well, well… What have we got here…”
“It looks like a person, Madam… Female, around 28, judging by her bone structure. Her vitals are subtly low, but it seems she is alive…” the robot said after a careful scanning.
“Alive? With that color ?” Irina was quite perplexed and slightly amused too.
She wouldn’t mind some company and probably some intel on the island. Besides, there was a side of her that liked to nurse back to life those poor little wounded creatures. The girl would be her first greenish one…“Take her to our place, Mr R” she ordered the robot. “We will soon need double ration of your delicious water rat stew, Mr R”.
In reply to: The Time-Dragglers’ Extravaganzas
Irina started to smell foul play when she arrived at the coordinates indicated in the last of the laconic messages sent to her by the Management.
“Are you sure you got the coordinates right Mr R?”
“Very much so Madam, but if you will allow me, I will double check to alleviate the hint of doubt I perceive in your most suave voice.”
“Yes, do that please.”When becoming anxious, Irina tended to get prone to bossiness, and didn’t like what she heard in her voice.
“I adore this door.”
Yes, that was much better with suave undertones, with a hint of foreign raspy accent to spice it up.In truth, the door was plain, wooden, with a number painted on it, half erased, and a series of symbols which, although she could not place them, raised a distant alarm in her mind.
“Rainbow magic?…” That was how they renamed the lore of black magic when it was privatized and re-marketed to the masses. She had not seen rainbow magic in ages, and there was no way that door would lead to an actual island without moving her out of this time and space.“Bloody buggers. Should have read those cryptic fine prints more carefully.”
She realized there was a good chance her promised island was in a godforsaken place lost in time. She could count herself lucky if the deserted island was not in the palaeolithic and raided by dangerous dinosaurs…
There was little choice. Either boldly embrace the great unknown behind the door, and trust her luck, or stay behind, short of the island of her dreams and probably condemned to run from the Management’s evil plans anyway.
At least, with option one, the lottery could be favourable.
That was what you got for dabbling in sketchy and questionable shots.“Mr R, are you ready?”
“Always, Madam.”She felt lucky and pressed the door.
In reply to: The Time-Dragglers’ Extravaganzas
“Mission’s a success, your island awaits”
This time, the Management’s message seemed strangely clear, and Irina didn’t care to decipher it, in case it meant something else completely. The idea of the island was all she needed at the time.
“A simple Congratulations! wouldn’t have hurt them”, she was a bit disappointed, after all the efforts, but for now, an illegally staffed island was as good as that.
“Mr R, pack our things, we are retiring!”
“Very well Madam. Meaning no disrespect Madam, but is retirement an appropriate word Madam?”
She quizzically raised her eyebrow, to which, right on cue, the robot continued
“Madam is much too young to retire.”
She sighed, affecting a pose. “Well, I know. But this 2222 isn’t really all the fuss they’re making about it”
“I would agree with Madam, Madam always has the most astute perception.”
“Well, thank you Mr R.” she giggled happily.She sniffed suspiciously at the air around “Did you have ambergris for dinner Mr R?”
In reply to: The Time-Dragglers’ Extravaganzas
Irina wondered why Management was insisting she take a vacation in January. The memo she received only raised more questions, both of a philosophical as well as practical nature.
Irina
Your mission is to get the time travellers to trust you. Then await further instructions.
Faithfully, Management
Appendix 1: there is no such thing as trust
Appendix 2: believe in trust totally, and believe in it not at all.
Appendix 3: if you are trusting that there is no trust then you are trusting in something.
Appendix 4: FOR THOSE WHO NEED TO KNOW: it is January 18th, 2222In reply to: The Time-Dragglers’ Extravaganzas
“If you have any spare room in that basket, mademoiselle, can I come too?” asked Mirabelle, the oldest maid. “I feel like I’m stuck in the wrong time zone here, in this life of servitude. I am sure I was destined for much more interesting things than this.”
“Well” said Sadie, “It would appear that there is plenty of room in this basket, because the dragglers are going with Sanso and the, er, singing frogs. Who else wants to go in the balloon?”
“Would it be alright if Igor came?” asked Mirabelle, blushing.
“You tart, Mirabelle, if Igor’s going then so am I! And Fanella.” Adeline piped up. “I am so done with all this religious stuff and praying to Mother Mary. Take me to the future!”
“If Mirabelle’s taking Igor, then I want Boris to come too” said Fanella.
Mirabelle and Adeline looked at Fanella in astonishment. “You kept that quiet, you tart!” the cried in unison.
“I think Ivan should come too” added Adeline.
Sadie raised an eyebrow. “Well then” she said. “ I hope one of you knows how to fly this balloon, because I’m going with Sanso. Bon Voyage!” And with that, she left them to it and rejoined the others.In reply to: The Time-Dragglers’ Extravaganzas
“Can’t you use one of these neat rockets of designer? We’re in 2222 for fuck’s sake!”, asked a lean green-faced lady, with her cheeks decorated with cucumber slices, who was lying next to Sanso in the pneumatic rotating bed of the R&R B&B.
“Can’t discuss business with you honey, sorry” he snapped, while looking for his pants and gilded codpiece in the mess of the room.“And I thought of us as partners in crime…” she shrugged. Nonplussed, and quite naked apart from the cucumber covered parts, she lit a swigarette and switched the holographic display on.
“…when launching a rocket to orbit, a “dogleg” is a guided, powered turn during ascent phase that causes a rocket’s flight path to deviate from a “straight” path. A dogleg is necessary if the desired launch azimuth, to reach a desired orbital inclination, would take the ground track over land (or over a populated area, e.g. Russia usually does launch over land, but over unpopulated areas), or if the rocket is trying to reach an orbital plane that does not reach the latitude of the launch site. Doglegs are undesirable due to extra onboard fuel required, causing heavier load, and a reduction of vehicle performance.”
Sanso turned his head towards the display and raised an eyebrow. “Hell if I understood what it means, but that certainly explains a few things”.
In reply to: The Time-Dragglers’ Extravaganzas
“I don’t know why Cook is making such a fuss about that missing knife, making us all feel like suspects!” complained Mirabelle to the other maids, as they lined up shivering in the chilly servants quarters, to take turns splashing their faces in bowl of cold water.
“That’s not the only thing that’s gone missing, either” added Fanella, glancing at Mirabelle with a knowing look. Mirabelle nodded, looking over at Adeline with a raised eyebrow. “The queen’s ferrets have gone missing too.”In reply to: The Time-Dragglers’ Extravaganzas
The e-zapper’s signal was dropping until it was gone, while there were eerie hoots and echoes in the tunnels.
Sadie’s report to Linda Paul would wait till a few hours. The broadcast wouldn’t start until the afternoon anyway, so they had time to relax. The carriage wasn’t so comfortable, but the blue lights provided a smooth reassurance, and the zebras were now trotting at a regular pace.Sadie looked with fondness at the boys in drags. A fondness which even surprised her. They were starting to reveal more of their true self as they were lulled to sleep in the carriage. How funny she thought, how a few drags and accessories can both hide and reveal parts of your personality.
Cedric, was a white guy from uptown actually quite challenged to grow a real beard, and he was playing that sassy bearded lady queen Consuela.
Amar the second-generation North African guy was raised in the suburbs before he chose to become the shiny Terry Bubble, while Reginald from the same neighbourhood was playing Maurana the big burly black queen,…The more Sadie spent time with them, the more which labels they chose to be called with started to become inconsequential.
She was actually more and more confident they would do a great job at blending by simply hiding in broad daylight. Their eccentricities would be a rousing success at the royal fête, they just had to hone their alibis a bit, and align on their story. As soon as they would be in Versailles, with the Russians from the competing cable network in toe, they had to be at the top of their games.In reply to: The Time-Dragglers’ Extravaganzas
It was only mere minutes before a clunky coach drawn by a motley quartet of zebras arrived at the spot.
“Hello darling,” the dashing coachman greeted Sadie while the footman was already busy ruffling around checking for any pieces of luggage to take.Sadie raised a concerned eyebrow.
“Mr Deverte?”
“Call me Sanso, darling, everybody does. You should get your drag queens here quickly, so we can depart without delay. The road is long and bumpy till Versailles, there is a promise of snow, and I got word you’re on a clock. Tally-ho!”For a moment, Sadie wondered if the assignment wasn’t indeed a punishment to atone for her preternatural goodness and beauty.
In reply to: The Time-Dragglers’ Extravaganzas
Sadie laughed out loud at the nonsensical rhyming texts coming through from her friend, Pseu. It had been drummed into them at the Happiness Training Academy that humour was a powerful way of raising one’s vibration and she was pleased that Pseu seemed to be deriving so much pleasure from Sadie’s latest mission. Consuela regarded Sadie quizzically and raised her beautifully arched right eyebrow even higher.
Noticing the puzzled looks she was getting from the 3 girls, Sadie felt her vibration lower slightly. Maybe she should take time for some team building exercises? After all, though it might seem like a waste of precious time now, it could pay dividends down the line when they really had to work as a team. She remembered some of the training videos she had watched the previous evening about connecting with others and had a brainwave.
“Right, girls! Anyone have a bowl?”
In reply to: The Surge Team’s Coils
There wasn’t a cloud in the sky over the mudflats of the Guadalquivir river delta. Bob and Dennis were having a late breakfast of tapas on the terrace of a local bar: battered cuttlefish testicles, ensaladilla Rusa, and reindeer meat montaditos, washed down with fino sherry.
“ We better get back to work, Dennis. I have a feeling we’re very close to finding something.” said Bob.
“Excuse me, did you mention work?” a voice piped up from a table behind them. “I’m looking for work. Just got out of jail yesterday ~ oh don’t panic!” the man in the scarlet sweater said, noticing their raised eyebrows. “I wasn’t in there for any crime, just for being an illegal immigrant. My name’s Barry, by the way, pleased to meet you.”
“Well, Barry, this is your lucky day!” replied Bob. “It just so happens we could do with an extra pair of hands today. Nothing permanent, or legal ~ ha ha ~ but a bit of cash in hand might come handy, eh?”
Barry was well aware of Bob and Dennis’s mission, but he didn’t let on.
“Be happy to, yes! What kind of work is it?”
“We’re looking for a p p p p portal, m m m mate” said Dennis.
In almost no time at all during the afternoon work in the mudflats and marshes, Barry shouted “Bob! Dennis! I think I’ve found it!” He was holding a large stone disc , looking for all the world like a Marie biscuit.
In reply to: The Surge Team’s Coils
Madam Li was gorgeous in her red silk chinese dress. She might be the eldest of the Team, but she appeared to be one of the youngest. She was proud of her Chinese ancestry. The two golden dragons on her dress emphasized her silhouette and her hair artistically arranged like an empress.
She had just received the invitation to the Tartessos’ 3 King’s parade. Eventhough she didn’t much like travelling, it might be an occasion to go somewhere warmer. It was snowing again in Shanghai and she had been sent there to investigate this strange occurance in that part of the country. Not that it was really strange to her, she had been raised in Harbin, and its ice festival. But having cars half burried in snow in Shanghai was not a normal sight.
At the moment, she was staying at an over-heated serviced apartment near the Pearl Tower of Shanghai. One of the perks of being part of the Team. Ed had always offered them a good salary and an apartment provided with the job, and they could use the red fleet whenever the wanted.
When she had tried to open the window, and didn’t succeeded, the night sight from her window gave her chills. Reminding her that she so loved this city. All the lights, blinking in and out, creating organized or random patterns at every corner. The city had changed so much these last years.
Madam Li put the invitation on the table, she would think of it later and checked with the red fleet to book a flight as soon as she had found out about all that snow in Shanghai.
In reply to: Tales of Tw’Elves
“Yet another splendid piece of synchronicity!” The Leprechaun praised himself, while eyeing the delicious-looking chocolate cake with three layers of vanilla cream that simply willed itself into different flavours before his delighted, excited taste buds. Just as he was about to take his first bite into the scrumptious cake, a multi-coloured portal opened before his very eyes. Unsurprisingly, the host of elves, each in a different physical manifestation, jumped out of the portal and dusted the stardust off their garments.
“Mr Leprechaun,” one elf began. He took the form of a Spanish gentleman by the name of Raul Iniesta. “Raul” (as he will be called for the time being until he shifts shape) had long, black hair that he had no intention of bounding, instead allowing its blackness to flow freely upon his neck and over his shoulders like a nightly waterfall of moonlight and starry gazes. He had an almond-shaped face, and his skin was gently golden-brown, as if his physical birth took place on a beach at sunset. His eyes were sea-blue, glimmering gently in the luminescence of his own aura. He spoke in a gentle voice that was mightily influenced by a touch of spanish mixed with french accents.
“I see you have taken the form of a Leprechaun-” Raul stepped closer to observe the essence’s current physical. “How quaint.”
The Leprechaun dryly stared at Raul. “I don’t see anything wrong with my physical form Mr INIESTA,” he replied, placing emphatic strain on ‘Iniesta’. “Would it have made any difference if I were a flower?”
“If you were a flower you’d fit perfectly with my body of hair!” Raul exclaimed. The Tw’Elves laughed heartily at the joke, and an iridescent beam of energy simultaneously rose from their esoteric beings, giving forth a ray of happiness, albeit for a short while, towards the inhabitants of the sleeping dimension.In reply to: Strings of Nines
In reply to: Strings of Nines
“W-a-t-e-r-f-r-i-n-g-i-n-m-e-l-o-n … yes still way too short!” Yikesy wasn’t really the party type and felt ridiculous wearing a bowler hat. While the others were engaged in general merriment precipitated by the arrival of the champagne, he surreptitiously removed the map from Minky’s backpack.
He scanned the map till he found what he was looking for.
Meanwhile ….
Arona giggled. “Look at that sign! Waakaawaakawaawaawaawaawaawaawahuhun! I want to go there!”
Mandrake raised an elegant eyebrow. “I suppose it is as good as anywhere, considering we have no idea where we are going.”
“I will run ahead and make sure it is safe.” announced Vincentius melodically. “You rest Arona, and eat these delicious sandwiches I whipped up earlier.”
“And shall I lick her feet for you while we wait?” asked the sarcastic Mandrake.
“Splendid idea. Thank you Mandrake!”
In reply to: The Eights’ Shift, Stories
“These old ezines and blogs are fascinating” remarked Periwinkle, passing the one she had just been reading to Daffodil. “Thank goodness some folks had the foresight to print some of them!”
“I know, imagine if they hadn’t. We’d have no artefacts for the collection. Well, we have all those flat discs, but no way to decipher them. Oh, did I tell you? Bignonia found something even older than the discs!”
“NO!” exclaimed Periwinkle “Do tell!”
“Yes, even older! Funny looking contraption, with two reels and a ribbon. An information storage device, so they say, although they haven’t discovered how to decipher it.”
“I wonder why we’re still not simply accessing that information without, well, without messing around with the physical contraption, you know?”
“Wouldn’t be any point in being here in the first place, if we weren’t going to mess around with physical things, silly” replied Daffodil.
There was no answer to that, so Periwikle didn’t answer. She continued to thumb through the printed pages.
Periwinkle and Daffodil sat together on the patio in the warm spring sunshine, sipping lemonade
and leafing through the papers. Bright white clouds in cartoon shapes romped across the blue sky,
and the birds chattered in the trees,
occasionally landing on the printed pages and cocking their heads sideways to read for a moment, before flying off to tell their friends, which was usually followed by a raucous group cackling.
“Dear Goofenoff” read Daffodil, “This one looks interesting Peri, someone here is asking for advice on a problem.”
“What’s a “problem”, Daffy?” asked Periwinkle. “For that matter, what does the word “advice” mean? Oh, never mind” she said as she noticed Daffodil rolling her eyes, “I’ll look it up in my pre shift dictionary of defunct words.”
“She’s asking the Snoot too, about the same problem. Oh, I think I’ve heard of them! It’s coming back to me, the old Snoot’n‘Goof team, they were quite famous in the beginning of the century, I remember hearing about them before in a Shift History discussion.”
“Well, I can’t say I’ve ever heard of them, but then, I’ve never been into history like you, dear. So what is this “problem” all about, then?”
“I’ll read it out to you, it’s way too convoluted to put in a nutshell. Lordy, they sure did complicate matters back then, it’s almost unbeleivable, really, but anyway, here goes:
Dear Goofenoff,
I don’t know what to do! I am confused about which probable version of a blog freind, let’s call him MrZ, I have chosen to align with. The first probable version was ok, nothing to worry about, and then I drew into my awareness the probable versions of MrZ that some of my freinds had chosen to align with….”
“Blimey”, interrupted Periwinkle, who was starting to fidget. “Is it much longer?”
“It’s alot longer, so be patient. Where was I? Oh yes:
“….and while that was very interesting indeed, and led to lots of usefully emotionally heated discussions, I started to align with their probable version, at times, although not consistently, which led to some confusion. So then I had a chat with someone who was more in alignment with my original probable version, although there were aspects of that probable version that were a little in alignment with the other folks probable version, notwithstanding. I suppose I was still in alignment with the other folks probable version when it came to my attention that there was another individual that might be aligning with a probable version, and my question is, in a nutshell, is it any of my business which probable version the new individual on the scene is aligning with?”
“Well, I can tell you the answer to that!” exclaimed Periwinkle.
Daffodil rolled her eyes. “Yes, dear, WE know the answer, but the point is, SHE didn’t know the answer at the time, which is why she asked Goofenoff.”
“If you ask me, she knew the answer all along” Periwinkle intuited. “What did Goofenoff say anyway?”
“He said:
Are you requiring a short or a long answer?”
Daffodil turned the page to continue reading. She frowned, and flicked through a few pages.
“What a shame, some of these pages appear to be missing! Now we’ll never know what Goofenoff said.”
Periwinkle laughed. “Well, never mind that anyway, have you seen the random story quote today? Rather synchronistic I’d say, listen to this bit:
Illi felt much better, and was sitting at the breakfast table, basking in the warm shafts of sunlight filtering in through the window, and listening to the birds singing in the lemon tree outside.”
In reply to: The Eights’ Shift, Stories
“HE PUT A BLUBBIT DOWN MY KNICKERS!” sobbed Lilli, loudly.
Unfortunately Lilli too had inherited the Stoll family curse, and her voice raised to such a level caused poor Fwick to cover his ears in horror. Being no fool, and quickly realising that without a head this ear protecting action would do no good at all, he instead decided he must evict these raucous Peaslanders from his abode, poste haste.
“Yes, indeed, Mewrich Peamon is the man you want to see. A strange fellow, lacking sense some may say, but very good with birds notwithstanding. Now, please, don’t thank me again. I mean really, don’t …. “ he muttered, ushering the guests in the direction of where he hoped the door was.
