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  • Illi was beginning to really appreciate being dead and the freedom it provided to create whatever she wished at a moments notice. She’d enjoyed being a shape shifter while she was alive, often changing into a rather odd cat-like creature which was one of her favourites. She’d had tremendous fun over the years, confounding people with that ... · ID #294 (continued)
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  • #4409
    Jib
    Participant

      “Pssst.”

      Finnley turned to her right, swift as a ninja. She was relieved to see Roberto, full of twigs and hay in his dark bushy hair. He had panda eyes.

      “What happened to you?” she asked in a hush before realising she only reacted to the way he prompted her. “Is that the new…”

      “No,” he said, “I just woke up from that strange cave with the moving roots and birth place of new characters,” he said rolling his ‘R’s like only he could. “It took me that long to come back into this thread. I just wanted to tell you the back door is open. I need to take a shower and clean the pool. Half of it is in summer, but the other seems to be stuck in winter.”

      #4407

      In reply to: Scrying the Word Cloud

      ÉricÉric
      Keymaster

        already sighed trees
        bossy head talking sudden
        send empty hands others birds
        stone stood covered gardener matter
        plants ones run outside

        #4404
        Jib
        Participant

          Liz left her bed at 8:30am, wearing only her pink and blue doubled cotton night gown, a perfect hair and her fluffy pink blue mules. She had been thinking about her characters while the sun was trying to rise with great difficulty. Liz couldn’t blame the Sun as temperatures had dropped dramatically since the beginning of winter and the air outside was really cold.

          When Liz was thinking about her writings and her characters, she usually felt hungry. Someone had told her once that the brain was a hungry organ and that you needed fuel to make it work properly. She didn’t have a sweet tooth, but she wouldn’t say no to some cheesy toast, any time of the day.

          She had heard some noise coming from the kitchen, certainly Finnley doing who knows what, although certainly not cleaning. It might be the association between thinking about her characters and the noise in the kitchen that triggered her sudden craving for a melted slice of cheese on top of a perfectly burnished toast. The idea sufficed to make her stomach growl.

          She chuckled as she thought of inventing a new genre, the toast opera. Or was it a cackle?

          As she was lost in her morning musings, her mules gave that muffled slippery sound on the floor that Finnley found so unladylike. Liz didn’t care, she even deliberately slowed her pace. The slippery sound took on another dimension, extended and stretched to the limit of what was bearable even for herself. Liz grinned, thinking about Finnley’s slight twitching right eye as she certainly was trying to keep her composure in the kitchen.

          Liz, all cheerful, was testing the differences between a chuckle and a cackle when she entered the kitchen. She was about to ask Finnley what she thought about it when she saw a small person in a yellow tunic and green pants, washing the dishes.

          Liz stopped right there, forgetting all about chuckles and cackles and even toasts.

          “Where is Finnley?” she asked, not wanting to appear the least surprised. The small person turned her head toward Liz, still managing to keep on washing the dishes. It was a girl, obviously from India.

          “Good morning, Ma’am. I’m Anna, the new maid only.”

          “The new… maid?”

          Liz suddenly felt panic crawling behind her perfectly still face. She didn’t want to think about the implications.

          “Why don’t you use the dishwasher?” she asked, proud that she could keep the control of her voice despite her hunger, her questions about chuckles and cackles, and…

          “The dirty dishes are very less, there is no need to use the dishwasher only.”

          Liz looked at her bobbing her head sideways as if the spring had been mounted the wrong way.

          “Are you alright?” asked Anna with a worried look.

          “Of course, dear. Make me a toast with a slice of cheese will you?”

          “How do I do that?”

          “Well you take the toaster and you put the slice of bread inside and pushed the lever down… Have you never prepared toasts before?”

          “No, but yes, but I need to know how you like it only. I want to make it perfect for your liking, otherwise you won’t be satisfied.” The maid suddenly looked lost and anxious.

          “Just do as you usually do,” said Liz. “Goddfrey?” she called, leaving the kitchen before the maid could ask anymore questions.

          Where was Goddfrey when she needed him to explain everything?

          “You need me?” asked a voice behind her. He had appeared from nowhere, as if he could walk through the walls or teleport. Anyway, she never thought she would be so relieved to see him.

          “What’s that in the kitchen?”

          “What’s what? Oh! You mean her. The new maid.”

          He knew! Liz felt a strange blend of frustration, despair and anger. She took mental note to remember it for her next chapter, and came back to her emotional turmoil. Was she the only one unaware of such a bit change in her home?

          “Well, she followed us when we were in India. We don’t know how, but she managed to find a place in one of your trunks. Finnley found her as she had the porter unpacked the load. It seems she wants to help.”

          #4403
          F LoveF Love
          Participant

            random plot generator

            A BOOK SHOP – IT IS THE AFTERNOON AFTER ALBIE HIT HIS MOTHER WITH A FEATHER.

            Newly unemployed ALBIE is arguing with his friend JENNY RAMSBOTTOM. ALBIE tries to hug JENNY but she shakes him off angrily.

            ALBIE
            Please Jenny, don’t leave me.

            JENNY
            I’m sorry Albie, but I’m looking for somebody a bit more brave. Somebody who faces his fears head on, instead of running away. You hit your mother with a feather! You could have just talked to her!

            ALBIE
            I am such a person!

            JENNY
            I’m sorry, Albie. I just don’t feel excited by this relationship anymore.

            JENNY leaves and ALBIE sits down, looking defeated.

            Moments later, gentle sweet shop owner MR MATT HUMBLE barges in looking flustered.

            ALBIE
            Goodness, Matt! Is everything okay?

            MATT
            I’m afraid not.

            ALBIE
            What is it? Don’t keep me in suspense…

            MATT
            It’s … a hooligan … I saw an evil hooligan frighten a bunch of elderly ladies!

            ALBIE
            Defenseless elderly ladies?

            MATT
            Yes, defenseless elderly ladies!

            ALBIE
            Bloomin’ heck, Matt! We’ve got to do something.

            MATT
            I agree, but I wouldn’t know where to start.

            ALBIE
            You can start by telling me where this happened.

            MATT
            I was…
            MATT fans himself and begins to wheeze.

            ALBIE
            Focus Matt, focus! Where did it happen?

            MATT
            The Library! That’s right – the Library!

            ALBIE springs up and begins to run.

            EXT. A ROADCONTINUOUS

            ALBIE rushes along the street, followed by MATT. They take a short cut through some back gardens, jumping fences along the way.

            INT. A LIBRARYSHORTLY AFTER

            ROGER BLUNDER a forgetful hooligan terrorises two elderly ladies.

            ALBIE, closely followed by MATT, rushes towards ROGER, but suddenly stops in his tracks.

            MATT
            What is is? What’s the matter?

            ALBIE
            That’s not just any old hooligan, that’s Roger Blunder!

            MATT
            Who’s Roger Blunder?

            ALBIE
            Who’s Roger Blunder? Who’s Roger Blunder? Only the most forgetful hooligan in the universe!

            MATT
            Blinkin’ knickers, Albie! We’re going to need some help if we’re going to stop the most forgetful hooligan in the universe!

            ALBIE
            You can say that again.

            MATT
            Blinkin’ knickers, Albie! We’re going to need some help if we’re going to stop the most forgetful hooligan in the universe!

            ALBIE
            I’m going to need candlesticks, lots of candlesticks.

            Roger turns and sees Albie and Matt. He grins an evil grin.

            ROGER
            Albie Jones, we meet again!

            MATT
            You’ve met?

            ALBIE
            Yes. It was a long, long time ago…

            EXT. A PARKBACK IN TIME

            A young ALBIE is sitting in a park listening to some trance music, when suddenly a dark shadow casts over him.

            He looks up and sees ROGER. He takes off his headphones.

            ROGER
            Would you like some wine gums?

            ALBIE’s eyes light up, but then he studies ROGER more closely, and looks uneasy.

            ALBIE
            I don’t know, you look kind of forgetful.

            ROGER
            Me? No. I’m not forgetful. I’m the least forgetful hooligan in the world.

            ALBIE
            Wait, you’re a hooligan?

            ALBIE runs away, screaming.

            INT. A LIBRARYPRESENT DAY

            ROGER
            You were a coward then, and you are a coward now.

            MATT
            (To ALBIE) You ran away?
            ALBIE
            (To MATT) I was a young child. What was I supposed to do?
            ALBIE turns to ROGER.

            ALBIE
            I may have run away from you then, but I won’t run away this time!
            ALBIE runs away.

            He turns back and shouts.

            ALBIE
            I mean, I am running away, but I’ll be back – with candlesticks.

            ROGER
            I’m not scared of you.

            ALBIE
            You should be.

            INT. A SWEET SHOPLATER THAT DAY

            ALBIE and MATT walk around searching for something.

            ALBIE
            I feel sure I left my candlesticks somewhere around here.

            MATT
            Are you sure? It does seem like an odd place to keep deadly candlesticks.

            ALBIE
            You know nothing Matt Humble.

            MATT
            We’ve been searching for ages. I really don’t think they’re here.

            Suddenly, ROGER appears, holding a pair of candlesticks.

            ROGER
            Looking for something?

            MATT
            Crikey, Albie, he’s got your candlesticks.

            ALBIE
            Tell me something I don’t already know!

            MATT
            The earth’s circumference at the equator is about 40,075 km.

            ALBIE
            I know that already!

            MATT
            I’m afraid of dust.

            ROGER
            (appalled) Dude!

            While ROGER is looking at MATT with disgust, ALBIE lunges forward and grabs his deadly candlesticks. He wields them, triumphantly.

            ALBIE
            Prepare to die, you forgetful aubergine!

            ROGER
            No please! All I did was frighten a bunch of elderly ladies!

            JENNY enters, unseen by any of the others.

            ALBIE
            I cannot tolerate that kind of behaviour! Those elderly ladies were defenceless! Well now they have a defender – and that’s me! Albie Jones defender of innocent elderly ladies.

            ROGER
            Don’t hurt me! Please!

            ALBIE
            Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t use these candlesticks on you right away!

            ROGER
            Because Albie, I am your father.

            ALBIE looks stunned for a few moments, but then collects himself.

            ALBIE
            No you’re not!

            ROGER
            Ah well, it had to be worth a try.

            ROGER tries to grab the candlesticks but ALBIE dodges out of the way.

            ALBIE
            Who’s the daddy now? Huh? Huh?

            Unexpectedly, ROGER slumps to the ground.

            MATT
            Did he just faint?

            ALBIE
            I think so. Well that’s disappointing. I was rather hoping for a more dramatic conclusion, involving my deadly candlesticks.

            ALBIE crouches over ROGER’s body.

            MATT
            Be careful, Albie. It could be a trick.

            ALBIE
            No, it’s not a trick. It appears that… It would seem… Roger Blunder is dead!

            ALBIE
            What?

            ALBIE
            Yes, it appears that I scared him to death.

            MATT claps his hands.

            MATT
            So your candlesticks did save the day, after all.

            JENNY steps forward.

            JENNY
            Is it true? Did you kill the forgetful hooligan?

            ALBIE
            Jenny how long have you been…?

            JENNY puts her arm around ALBIE.

            JENNY
            Long enough.

            ALBIE
            Then you saw it for yourself. I killed Roger Blunder.

            JENNY
            Then the elderly ladies are safe?

            ALBIE
            It does seem that way!

            A crowd of vulnerable elderly ladies enter, looking relived.

            JENNY
            You are their hero.

            The elderly ladies bow to ALBIE.

            ALBIE
            There is no need to bow to me. I seek no worship. The knowledge that Roger Blunder will never frighten elderly ladies ever again, is enough for me.

            JENNY
            You are humble as well as brave! And I think that makes up for hitting your mother with a feather. It does in my opinion!

            One of the elderly ladies passes ALBIE a healing ring

            JENNY
            I think they want you to have it, as a symbol of their gratitude.

            ALBIE
            I couldn’t possibly.
            Pause.

            ALBIE
            Well, if you insist. It could come in handy when I go to the Doline tomorrow. With my friend Matt. It is dangerous and only for brave people and a healing ring could come in handy.

            ALBIE takes the ring.

            ALBIE
            Thank you.
            The elderly ladies bow their heads once more, and leave.

            ALBIE turns to JENNY.

            ALBIE
            Does this mean you want me back?

            JENNY
            Oh, Albie, of course I want you back!
            ALBIE smiles for a few seconds, but then looks defiant.

            ALBIE
            Well you can’t have me.

            JENNY
            WHAT?

            ALBIE
            You had no faith in me. You had to see my scare a hooligan to death before you would believe in me. I don’t want a lover like that. And I am going to the Doline and I may not be back!

            JENNY
            But…

            ALBIE
            Please leave. I want to spend time with the one person who stayed with me through thick and thin – my best friend, Matt.

            MATT grins.

            JENNY
            But…

            MATT
            You heard the gentleman. Now be off with you. Skidaddle! Shoo!

            JENNY
            Albie?

            ALBIE
            I’m sorry Jenny, but I think you should skidaddle.
            JENNY leaves.

            MATT turns to ALBIE.

            MATT
            Did you mean that? You know … that I’m your best friend?

            ALBIE
            Of course you are!
            The two walk off arm in arm.

            Suddenly MATT stops.

            MATT
            When I said I’m afraid of dust, you know I was just trying to distract the hooligan don’t you?

            #4393
            TracyTracy
            Participant

              They have entered, now peace is all shattered,
              And the quiet was all that had mattered,
              But alas that is over,
              And blown is my cover,
              And I’m sulky and not feeling flattered.

              Petra was scribbling furiously in her expedition notebook, not wanting to forget the exact wording of the curious message she had received on waking from her nap behind the rocks. It was not the first time she had heard telepathic messages in rhyme, and wondered briefly about the possible connections, but then Lillianne woke up farting dreadfully, and she was distracted.

              #4392
              Jib
              Participant

                “Tourists!” shouted Ugo the gecko to his albino friends. They all stopped and turned their heads in unison to look at the two humans who had entered the premises, inside their small chests their hearts beating fast with excitement like so many small shamanic drums that only gecko ears could hear. Ugo was so engrossed in those two humongous creatures and the hypnotic rhythm of his friends’ heartbeats that he didn’t see the suckers from his front left paw were getting loose again. They had been damaged in a fight with a twirling bat one week ago and they still hadn’t heal nicely because he didn’t care so much. Soon his left paw got detached from the ancient stones of the wall, followed by his right and soon he fell. But like he was made of sticking rubber the fall was short and he got stuck again on a lower stone, walking on the head of a few friends in the process.

                “Sorry for that! I’ll have them checked, promise.”

                Some of the geckos missed a heartbeat, frightened by the sudden turmoil. They ran in what might appear random directions and panic quickly spread among the albino geckolony on the wall. By a miracle of nature and because they were all so fascinated by tourists, the geckos rearranged nicely only to stop a sucking steps away and turned their head back again toward the tourists. Their hearts beating in unison again.

                “Look! that dark wall over there with the white hieroglyphs. I’m sure it just moved!” said the tallest of the tourists. She was curious and decided to go watch by herself what that curious wall was about.

                #4385

                In reply to: Scrying the Word Cloud

                TracyTracy
                Participant

                  leaving gardener
                  doctor pull potions
                  whatever hold threads
                  potion holding memory dreaming spot
                  book present
                  making rude names fear round

                  #4378
                  TracyTracy
                  Participant

                    “The mansion to yourself?” snorted Liz. “You, Godfrey, will be going on ahead to make sure everything is ready for us. We’d like a nice leafy garden and a balcony, and do make sure we have a really good cook.”

                    “And we want first class tickets,” added Finnley. “Because we are worth it,” she added defiantly, noticing the various raised eyebrows. “I’ll go and find Roberto then shall I?”

                    “That’s a very good question, Finnley. Where the devil is he anyway? Godfrey, perhaps you should go and find him, and lay the law down a bit about wandering off the thread while on duty.”

                    “Funnily enough,” said Godfrey, clearing his throat, “Roberto appears to have fetched up in Mumbai. He was spotted a few days ago chasing chickens and trying to stuff them into a story thread. I was, ahem, going to mention it…”

                    Liz was just about to start complaining about always being the last to know what was going on, when a thought struck her about how marvelously fortuitous it was that she wanted Godfrey to go on ahead to India, and to also look for Roberto ~ who was conveniently in India!

                    #4370

                    The memories of the strange vision had faded away. Only the feeling of awe was lingering in his heart.

                    Fox was walking in the forest near Margoritt’s cottage. The smell of humid soil was everywhere. Despite it being mostly decomposing leaves and insects, Fox found it quite pleasant. It carried within it childhood memories of running outside after the rain whild Master Gibbon was trying to teach him cleanliness. It had been a game for many years to roll into the mud and play with the malleable forest ground to make shapes of foxes and other animals to make a public to Gibbon’s teachings.

                    Fox had been walking around listening to the sucking sound made by his steps to help him focus back on reality. He was trying to catch sunlight patches with his bare feet, the sensations were cold and exquisite. The noise of the heavy rain had been replaced by the random dripping of the drops falling from the canopy as the trees were letting go of the excess of water they received.

                    It was not long before he found Gorrash. The dwarf was back in his statue state, he was face down, deep in the mud. Fox crouched down and gripped his friend where he could. He tried to release him from the ground but the mud was stronger, sucking, full of water.

                    “You can leave him there and wait the soil to dry. You can’t fight with water”, said Margorrit. “And I think that when it’s dry, we’ll have a nice half-mold to make a copy of your friend.”

                    Fox laughed. “You have so many strange ideas”, he told the old woman.

                    “Well, it has been my strength and my weakness, I have two hands and a strong mind, and they have always functioned together. I only think properly when I use my hands. And my thoughts always lead me to make use of my hands.”

                    Fox looked at Margoritt’s wrinkled hands, they were a bit deformed by arthritis but he could feel the experience they contained.

                    “Breakfast’s ready”, she said. “I’ve made some honey cookies with what was left of the the flour. And Glynis has prepared some interesting juices. I like her, she has a gift with colours.”

                    They left the dwarf to dry in the sun and walked back to the house where the others had already put everything on the table. Fox looked at everyone for a moment, maybe to take in that moment of grace and unlikely reunion of so many different people. He stopped at Rukshan who had a look of concern on his face. Then he started when Eleri talked right behind him. He hadn’t hear her come.

                    “I think I lost him”, she said. “What’s for breakfast? I’m always starving after shrooms.”

                    #4368

                    When the rain stopped, Eleri stood motionless, suspended in between the enveloping cocophony of pattering drops. Already the saturated foliage was steaming and a dense mist arose from the sodden ground. The effects of the cake were wearing off, and the sudden change from exhuberance in the lashing rain, to the whispering silence and eerie rising fog left her speechless, and still. A moment, hanging like a swaying rope bridge between one scene and another.

                    And it was at that very moment, as is so often the case, that the mysterious Mr Minn appeared, dressed, it would seem, for a formal event. Raising his tall black hat he said with a smile, “Eleri! WE meet again!”

                    She swooned, and fell into his arms. Later, in retrospect, Eleri had to admit it was an extraordinarily well timed whitey, due to the after effects of the cake, but was pleased with the theatrical symbolism and timing.

                    Rolling his eyes, Micawber Minn called for Festus, his young assistant. “Carry her back to the party, and tell Margoritt I’m on my way. But first,” he said, “A necessary detour…”

                    #4366
                    ÉricÉric
                    Keymaster

                      It’s all a bit quiet there, where have they all gone again? One could hear plants growing in that silence.

                      “Finnley!” she shouted across the mansion, pondering at what demoniac activity the maid was devoted recently.

                      She hadn’t seen the maid in the all of the week, but somehow they had been communicating in a sort of eerie telepathic way, by subtle positions of objects in the house. A piece of clothe in this or that position would mean, please wash it hasta pronto, but if it was slightly above ground, she somehow would get it was meant to be just folded for another use. There had been a silent tug of war as to where the towel would dry, as she didn’t like it to be in the humid bathroom. And for every lunch, she would find something prepared in the fridge, ready to be heated in the microwave oven.

                      But she had to tell her, that was enough with chicken and grilled aubergines. A little variety would go a long way…

                      #4364

                      Rukshan had stayed awake for the most part of the night, slowly and repeatedly counting the seconds between the blazing strokes of lightning and the growling bouts of thunder.
                      It is slowly moving away.

                      The howling winds had stopped first, leaving the showers of rain fall in continuous streams against the dripping roof and wet walls.

                      An hour later maybe, his ear had turned to the sound of the newly arrived at the cottage, thinking it would be maybe the dwarf and Eleri coming back, but it was a different voice, very quiet, somehow familiar… the potion-maker?

                      He had warned Margoritt that a lady clad in head-to-toe shawls would likely come to them. Margoritt had understood that some magical weaving was at play. The old lady didn’t have siddhis or yogic powers, but she had a raw potential, very soundly rooted in her long practice of weaving, and learning the trades and tales of the weaving nomad folks. She had understood. Better, she’d known — from the moment I saw you and that little guy, she’d said, pointing at Tak curled under the bed.
                      “He’s amazing,” she’d said “wise beyond his age. But his mental state is not very strong.”

                      There was more than met the eye about Tak, Rukshan started to realize.
                      For now, the cottage had fell quiet. Dawn was near, and there was a brimming sense of peace and new beginning that came with the short silence before the birds started again their joyous chatter.

                      It must have been then that he collapsed on the table of exhaustion and started to dream.

                      It was long before.

                      The dragon is large and its presence awe-inspiring. They have just shared the shards, each has taken one of the seven. Even the girl, although she still hates to be among us.
                      The stench of the ring of fire is still in their nostrils. The Gods have deserted, and left as soon as the Portal closed itself. It is a mess.

                      “Good riddance.”

                      He raises his head, looking at the dragon above him. She is quite splendid, her scales a shining pearl blue on slate black, reflecting the moonshine in eerie patterns, and her plastron quietly shiny, almost softly fiery. His newly imbued power let him know intimately many things, at once. It is dizzying.

                      “You talk of the Gods, don’t you?” he says, already knowing the answer.
                      “Of course, I am. Good riddance. They had failed us so many times, forgot their duties, driven me and my kind to slavery. Now I am free. Free of guilt, and free of sorrow. Free to be myself, as I was meant to be.”
                      “It is a bit more complex th…”
                      “No it isn’t. It couldn’t be more simple. If you had the strength to see it, you would understand.”
                      “I know what you mean, but I am not sure I understand.”

                      The dragon smiles enigmatically. She turns to the lonely weeping girl, who is there with the old woman. Except her grand-mother is no longer an old crone, she has changed her shape to that of a younger person. She is showing potentials to the girl, almost drunk on the power, but it doesn’t alleviate her pain.

                      “What are you going to do about them?”

                      The Dragon seems above the concerns for herself. In a sense, she is right. It was all his instigation. He bears responsibility.

                      “I don’t know…” It is a strange thing to say, when you can know anything. He knows there are no good outcomes of this situation. Not with the power she now possesses.

                      “You better find out quick…” and wake up,

                      wake up, WAKE UP !

                      #4363

                      The rain stopped as suddenly as it had begun.

                      Margoritt showed Glynis to a small area, partitioned off from the main room; a narrow bed, a tiny window to the outside and and a simple wooden shelf.

                      “You’ll be wanting some privacy,” she said. “And something dry to wear,” she added, handing Glynis a dress, plain in shape and made from a soft woven fabric, pearly spheres woven into a dark purple background.

                      The second person to give me something to wear, she mused.

                      The fabric was amazing. It made Glynis think of stars at night and the way you could never see to the end of the sky. It felt both reassuring and terrifying all at the same time.

                      There is magic in the hands that wove this, she thought, hesitant though to voice her thoughts to Margoritt, however kindly she seemed.

                      “A master weaver has made this!” she said instead. “Was it you?”

                      “No, not I … but you are right, it was made by a master … as you can no doubt see, it doesn’t fit me any longer. I’ve had it sitting there going to waste for many years and am glad to put it to use. It doesn’t cover your head like the other did, but really there is no need here.” Margoritt smiled. “Go, get changed. Come out when you are ready and I will have some tea and cake for you. Then you can meet the others properly.”

                      “Is it okay? hissed Sunny in a loud whisper when they were alone, anxiously hopping from one foot to another.

                      “Yes, i think so … I’ve been very careful,” Glynis reached in her pouch and gently pulled out an egg.

                      “It’s amazing, isn’t it … almost golden… for sure it must be the gift the man from the market promised me in my dream … the way it just sat there on the path … lucky I did not stand on it.” She stroked the egg gently.

                      “Sorry about all this, little one,” she said softly to the egg. “I wonder what creature you are inside this shell … and what safe place can we hide you till you are ready to come out of there?”

                      “I can sit on it of course,” said Sunny. “It will be my honour and privilege to assist.”

                      #4362

                      Eleri was entranced by the myriad shades of purple in the pouring rain; already soaked to the skin she made no attempt to shelter. She wafted around with her face upturned and arms aloft, swaying and stumbling and sometimes staggering as the wind buffeted her in between the darkly glistening tree trunks.

                      Never before had she seen so many shades of the colour purple!

                      #4359
                      ÉricÉric
                      Keymaster

                        “So, that’s where the gardener has been hiding all this time…” Godfrey thought, quietly stepping out of the shadows into the sinkhole tunnels. “Maybe I’ll just tell Liz’ he has resigned. Although she seemed more taken by this one than with the previous guys…”
                        While the gardener was snoring loudly, he took time to look around, and noticed the sprouting sack.
                        “How curious that those old books have started to come to life again…”

                        An idea had crossed his mind, both dreadful and exciting. The portal…

                        Leaving the gardener to his dreams, and taking another secret exit out of the dark tunnel, opening another succession of doors with the turn of a key hanging from the watch chain of his burgundy waistcoat, he soon found himself reappearing into a deep secret place. A small round room, almost like the inner chamber of a burrow, with no visible door, no window, seemingly lit only by a single ray of light coming from the pinhole in the ceiling, reflected on the glittering curved walls. At one side, was a well, and one could hear the humming sound of flowing underground water.
                        On the well, where deeply carved words : “HC SVNT DRACONES”. Just below them, painted in white in Godfrey’s flowering handwriting : “Here be dragons!”

                        There still was the heavy latch, bolted by a large futuristic-looking lock.

                        Phew, still closed. Godfrey sighed a sigh of relief. He couldn’t imagine the damage to Liz’ frail hold on reality, where she to find about what was lurking behind.

                        Popping a peanut in his mouth, he smiled wryly, reminisced of what Finnley had said about her “discovering” of the attic; yes, their secret was fine with them for now. At least so long as what was locked on the other side stayed there of course…

                        #4358
                        F LoveF Love
                        Participant

                          “Jingle, where are you?” asked Finnley grumpily, peering into the darkness of the attic.

                          “Here”, hissed Jingle from behind some boxes. “Has that dreadful man gone yet?”

                          “Nope, still here. Drooling over Liz no doubt.”

                          “I won’t go back to my mother! That awful woman!”

                          “Well you can’t stay here so you had better go out the window.”

                          “What window? There is no window!” whimpered Jingle.

                          Oh for Flove’s sake! thought Finnley. No imagination. That’s her trouble.

                          Adroitly, she whipped out some power tools and cut a hole in the roof.

                          “There!” she said, taking a step back to survey her work. “A window. Now, off you go. And don’t come back.”

                          “Oh thank you, Finnley. You are wonderful!”

                          “I am, aren’t I,” smirked Finnley.

                          And after all, Liz didn’t even know she had an attic so she certainly won’t notice a window.

                          #4342

                          The dinner had already started, the roasted chicken half devoured, and Fox turned redder when he saw Rukshan’s dismayed look. The Fae seemed much too rigid at times.

                          It was a good and cheerful assembly, and Lahmom the traveller of the high plateaus, with her adorned cowboy hat always proudly put on her golden locks of hair, was telling them of the shamanic practices of the people of those far-away places she had seen in her voyages.
                          It was all fascinating to hear, she had such a love for the people that she beamed though her sparkly eyes when she was telling them the tales of those shamans, and how they would drum in circles and be able to communicate with their group spirit…

                          “We should do that sometimes” a surprisingly talkative Gorrash said, as he munched his way though a large ear of maize. He seemed almost drunk on the fermented goat milk that he had found pleasantly attracted to.

                          “Oh, I’m sure we can find some old skin somewhere around my stuff” Margoritt said, amused at the idea of the challenge.
                          Lahmom winked at Tak who was hiding behind his plate, but not missing any word of the lively exchanges.

                          “In all your travels, have you been to any of those places?” Lahmom asked Yorath who seemed distracted.
                          “I’m sorry, what?” he wasn’t paying too much attention “Has anybody seen Eleri?”

                          #4341

                          Before he closed it to prepare for the dinner, the page of the book had said “She is coming, heralded by Sunshine, and thus will the Gathering start”. Rukshan could be quite literal and thought that she wouldn’t come today, since the sun was about to set.
                          He wasn’t sure how the words had found their way into the book, and if the She was who he thought She was. In short, he was getting confused.

                          Back there, the Hermit’s message had been so clear, so urgently present.
                          Find who you were, find what you stole, and give it back. Then the threads will unravel and the knot of all the curses will be undone.

                          And yet, he started to doubt his path.

                          The high-pitched cry of “Circle of Eights” pierced through the fog of his mind, and Rukshan realised suddenly that… that was it. Why else, all these people would be around this place at this auspicious moment?

                          The trees’ messages had been shown right. He was the Faying Fae. The Sage Sorceress was probably still on her path, but the Teafing Tinkeress hunted by a god, the Gifted Gnome, on his way to become his own maker under the protection of a Renard Renunciate looking for lost souls… They were there. Five in total; with himself (Rukshan) — the potion-maker, Eleri, Gorrash, Fox, these were the rest of the names, and they made the five first strands. Who were the last two? Olliver, Tak?

                          Olliver would surely have rounded everyone around for the dinner by now.
                          Rukshan placed the book back into the bag. He would explain to everyone then, read the old tale of the seven thieves and their curses, and maybe they could all formulate a plan for remembrance.
                          Yes, remembrance was the first step. How to know what to do if you didn’t know who they were, what they stole…

                          He wasn’t too sure what to do with the God in torpor yet. He seemed less of a danger in his current state. That a God had been left behind, stuck in stone for so long, and right under their nose was mind-boggling. Another mystery to be revealed.
                          Surprisingly —and luckily— Olli had explained, Hasamelis seemed to believe that the young boy was a genius wizard, so he would maybe listen to Olli.

                          The second ‘Circle of Eights!’ seemed closer this time.

                          #4339

                          In reply to: Scrying the Word Cloud

                          TracyTracy
                          Participant

                            whole precious interesting jar
                            wisdom surprise
                            help let team writing
                            followed girl heart next ready
                            deep hear turned vaguely
                            mushrooms leave

                            #4337

                            As the night was coming on the party, lanterns were lit around the place, and Gorrash started to wake up.
                            He felt grumpy, and ready to take on the world, but suddenly realized there was quite a crowd assembled around the long table set up in front of the shack.
                            He would have grumpfed and grumbled and sworn angrily that they had started without him, but someone had put a nice plate of pebbles in front of him.
                            He couldn’t help but smile Nice touch, pointy ears!

                            His friend the owl hooted as if in approval.
                            “Oh there you are…” he said, seeing it was perched on… what exactly?
                            There was another statue, a big old winged thing that wasn’t there yesterday.

                            “Fox has some explaining to do…” he thought, wondering about this… Then he was startled to realise that said statue was just a strange large being, stuck in a sort of hypnotic trance.

                            “Has he woken yet?” the dwarf turned around to see the young lad who had addressed him, coming in his direction. “The witch’s magic mushrooms are very strong… it’s his fault; he wouldn’t calm down…” the lad said sheepishly.
                            As the dwarf was looking at the owl for explanation, she just decided to fly away for some vole hunting.
                            “Hello, I’m Olli… Olliver is the name.”
                            “Well, I’m Gorrash. You can call me Gorrash.”
                            “Mr Go- go-gorrash, the Fae has called all of us to tell us something, could you come please…”

                            Gorrash pointed at the tranced out god “and what about this big guy?”

                            Olli shrugged, “Ruk- Ruk-, Rukji said we can leave him there, he will join us later on the trip…”

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                          • Illi was beginning to really appreciate being dead and the freedom it provided to create whatever she wished at a moments notice. She’d enjoyed being a shape shifter while she was alive, often changing into a rather odd cat-like creature which was one of her favourites. She’d had tremendous fun over the years, confounding people with that ... · ID #294 (continued)
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