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  • #2746

    In reply to: Tales of Tw’Elves

    TracyTracy
    Participant

      “There hath he lain for ages, and will lie
      Battening upon huge seaworms in his sleep,
      Until the latter fire shall heat the deep;
      Then once by man and angels to be seen,
      In roaring he shall rise and on the surface die…..”

      After Petronella’s resounding success with the remote view and the head spinning afterwards as she pondered the possibilities, she spent a couple of hours randomly roaming around the internet, noticing how many synchronicities kept popping up.

      “Come be part of the adventure, and help mold the destiny of the Multiverse in the greatest story that is being lived and not told. Come participate in Chapter One, the Revealing and discover the secrets that have been only guessed at till now.

      The Isle has a plan for all…
      Wounds Heal, Scars Fade and Paradigms Shift,
      but GLORY is FOREVER!”

      Even the Rosehaven team were starting a new chapter.

      “The Unbound, Cadamus the Artificer, entered Rosehaven. “

      Cadamus? The name sounded familiar. Could it be Toobidoo, in disguise?

      #2831

      In reply to: Tales of Tw’Elves

      TracyTracy
      Participant

        Kerry sent a link to a remote view practice website as well, and just as Petronella was clicking on the link a image popped into her head of a bright yellow green snake.
        Further down the page she noted: “4) Magic. Your answer contains keywords that indicate that you obtained very specific knowledge about the target.” Very specific knowledge? Aha, Petronella thought, This has potential!

        #2845

        In reply to: Tales of Tw’Elves

        AvatarWhite Panther
        Participant

          Petronella had attended many “Occupy Movement” gatherings- she was one of the first to shuffle eagerly to Wall Street when the Yankee Americans were finally awakened from their stupendous slumber, and when the Spanish were shouting “Viva la Revolucion!” she was silently there, capturing every movement with her Canon IX-25 14.0 Megapixel camcorder and reporting to the rest of the world the rumblings of the impending revolution. This occupation was different, felt different, and conducted in a different manner.

          She dusted the dirt off the book, looked around to see if nobody spotted her picking the book up, and retreated back into her tent. She brew a fresh pot of coffee, bundled herself in her tiny, yet thick and warm blanket and set the book before her. It was an odd-looking book, none like the books she’d encountered- and she encountered many books! Its cover was plain, covered in a velvet cloth with the title written plainly and boldly on the cover: CANARIA. The name rang a distant bell, but she shook the afterthought and proceeded to open the book. As she opened the first page, another beam of bright energetic light- this time it was blue- swept past her like a hurried flock of bees. This was the fourth beam of light she’d witnessed in the past twelve hours, and she was beginning to think she was going crazy. What made the whole matter even more crazier was that these beams of light seemed to be WHISPERING AND GIGGLING, almost as though they were forlorn inhabitants of the vatican. She ignored the beam of light- yet again- and resumed with her book. Just then, a blip sounded from her tiny Lenovo notebook: Kerry had sent her an instant message on Facebook chat. Slightly chagrined, she leered over and grabbed her notebook, settling the book next to her. Kerry was offline, but she had left a link to a website. Petronella clicked onto the link, and an article popped up on the screen. She skimmed by, having little interest in Kerry’s New Age nonsense. She was just about to close the webpage when a sentence caught her attention: “When you practise remote viewing, you will be accorded a beam of light with its owwn colour that’ll identify with you.”
          The mentioned beams of light the sentence mentioned were the same she’d been witnessing, so she silently read on.

          #2586

          In reply to: Strings of Nines

          EricEric
          Keymaster

            “Now would you believe you were actually worried for her?” she told Georges, raising from the sand of the Kandulim where they were doing some people remote-gazing.
            “Well, for a moment I was, and you know that Salome. Even if we have not followed the same path, ours have crossed a few times, and I’m grateful for what she taught me in the beginning.”
            “I know, although I never really got that part of her… well other than from your experiences I mean.”
            “She even starts to remember her parrot, that was quite unexpected.”
            “ Do you believe she’ll be able to travel out of that other dimension easily?”
            “I don’t know… After that bravado escape from the Baron’s submarine, and the rough sea, I supposed she would need more time to recover and bring herself together, but she seems to have taken care of that in an interesting manner.”
            “Look! Ahahaha”
            “What?”
            “Did you notice she stole the poor guy’s cufflinks! She’s so mean ahahah, she never got past those magpie’s instincts”

            #1186

            Arona was fretting.

            “Now, what is this all about? Can someone explain me? The purple sand is pretty, the green sky too, however it looks just like an insane dream from a deranged mind having abused smoke of robjane leaves.”

            Framing Irtak —who was having a funny pout on his face— the dragons Heckle and Jeckle were too busy considering with an amused attention the new form and energy field that their progenitor had taken.

            No words were spoken to answer Arona’s plea for answers, but answers were starting to come to them in the form of a bundle of energy which would be difficult to translate in a linear manner.

            They started to understand a few things. That for one, N’meôrl the Nirgual was not here by chance, at this place and time. Again, they had travelled far in the past of the history of their dimension, and events of great importance were in motion, that they were given to witness.

            At first, the flow of information they were having was like a stream they thought they had no control of, but as questions were forming they noticed that it was altering the flow which was then encompassing the answers to those questions.

            Like when Jeckle wondered if he and his twin had big birdies counterparts like this one to merge with, and got the following answer “No. For you are quite new essences fragments, and thus do not yet hold focuses in similar extent to your progenitor.”

            Arona was quite pleased by this new mode of getting answers, especially as she could visibly get the answers she was genuinely looking for, not those coming from questions she was only remotely interested in.

            N’meôrl was showing them also, that unlike him, they were not quite physically focused into that environment, and were not noticed by the small surrounding creatures like the little red scrabs crawling in the sand. They were mainly there to observe and draw their own conclusions, as soon some events would occur.

            As they’d finished absorbing the information, they started to notice a feeling of expectation in the air. N’meôrl conveyed to them that they would have to stay quiet in his peripheral awareness for “they” were coming, and he was on a delicate mission.

            :fleuron:

            Footsteps on the beach.
            A man approaching. He looks like Irtak and Arona, as if he had just come into this alien world from the same door they had taken. But he fails to notice them.

            He stays, facing the deep green waters of the ocean brushing the shore, as if expecting someone.

            A strange buzz starts to fill the space. A point of focused light the size of a pinhole appears in front of him, expands quickly with an elastic quality, and pops with a soft sound, revealing an improbably tall figure under a cloak.

            The man greets the new-comer with deference
            “Master Sinadron
            Jarvis, my good friend.”

            They start to walk on the beach at the unspoken invitation of the one with the smooth voice named Sinadron.

            “So, I’ve been told our little matter is going very well.”
            “Yes, very well, Master; I am deeply grateful for your intervention; without your help I’ve been told, my dear would not have been allowed to…”
            “Let’s not talk of such things any longer; it was such a delight to help two sweet young souls so deeply in love”

            Somehow, despite the words of kindness which are slithering with ease, the invisible witness got the uncanny feeling that they are but a deceptive fragment of the truth.

            “Now. Tell me”, the one named Sinadron continues in a mellifluous voice “Why have you called me for?”
            “The settlement you have suggested us to start on this land…”
            “Yes, I am aware, please go to the point instead of labouring things I am well aware of.” The voice had sharpened a bit.
            “I am sorry Master.”
            “Continue”
            “There is a growing dissent that…”
            “And from who that shall come?”
            “Err… I hear Pelorus has spoken to the Zentauras…”
            “Pelorus is but a nuisance.” The voice wasn’t asking for contradiction, though an imperceptible grin was floating on the half-hidden face.
            He continued “But I shall help you, once again
            “Master, you are too generous…”
            “Let me finish. I will provide you with more men and women, willing to start a new life under your command, to help you grow your settlement. There are a few slaves on the Duane, that place from where you come who will do great.”
            “Master…”
            “They will be there in an hexade. Make sure you stand your ground until then, even if that means confronting those nasty Zentauras.”

            And without waiting for the confused thanks, he disappeared, grinning widely.

            #1144
            TracyTracy
            Participant

              Chuckling to herself about Sam’s latest entry (which was another splendid synchronicity with the daily random quote: “Just as Becky was retorting crossly to Al to please knock before remote viewing her…”) Becky Tooh went outside into the sunshine to hang out the laundry. Blinking in the strong sunlight she reached up to peg a towel on the line and noticed two huge eagles circling above her. I swear they are looking right at me, she said. She watched them circling until her eyes could stand the glare of the sun no longer, then turned back to the laundry basket.

              Oh will you look at that! she said crossly. Bird pooh all over the washing!

              #1084
              AvatarJib
              Participant

                Sam remote-looked sternly at BeckyAnd you were complaining it was nonsensical before?
                Apparently Gayesh didn’t give you entire satisfaction that you have new fancies… with men in tutus :yahoo_doh:

                #1062

                Were are we Anu? , the mother asked her young daughter trotting in front of her. My, it’s awfully dark in there… Are you sure we’ll find the others here?
                — Yes Mum. Anu answered in a soft voice.
                — Don’t be so anxious, Lily dear; trust our little girl; after all, she did so bravely well on her own after that plane crash.
                — You’re right Aaron, but this place is so… I don’t know, it gives me the creeps. It’s like… I couldn’t tell why, but it’s like we’re not remotely close to the Miami… or even the Sarcastic Sea where we’re supposed to be stranded…
                — It’s because we’re not, muttered Anita, more to herself than to her mother. But we’ll be soon enough, she added.
                — Sometimes I wonder how can Anu know so well were we are when we’re so lost, her mother mumbled…

                Balbina was following the little group as it was heading to the cave where one of the portal’s entrances was located. She could see the entrance clearly, glowing and sending ripples of energy coils, but that was only because she was travelling in her dream-body. While Anita, who was quite tuned into those things, wasn’t appearing to be lost, the parents seemed more than a little in the dark, and not only figuratively speaking…

                Balbina turned to the rabbit who was keeping her company.
                — And do you know were they’re going to?
                And do you like the things that life is showing you? giggled Yuki. Well, more seriously, it depends on what they’re choosing. And it could lead them to a place much more different than the one they expect to go to.

                A funny idea crossed the mind of Balbina, so much so that the elderly lady, who was looking rather youngish in her dreamlike appearance couldn’t help but express it.

                — Could they come to my place? They seem so charming people, and they seem to come from the same time as I do…
                — I thought you would never ask, Yuki smiled at her mischievously.
                — Oh, why?
                — Don’t you think it’s a funny coincidence that you are to meet them here and now?
                — Well… It’s just a dream, isn’t it?
                — And what if you could make that dream reality? Prove to yourself that it’s as real as anything else…
                — That sounds exciting indeed.

                “Here!” Anita was pointing a strange shaped bush of brambles.

                Rafaela was standing next to the bushes with Armelle on a tree nearby. “I’ve thought it would be more practical for them than the rock pool”
                “Good thinking dear” Yuki answered the goat.

                — And now? Balbina asked
                — I think it’s up to you and Anita, said Yuki.

                “And where are we going from there?” asked Lily to her daughter.
                “Not far from here, to a friend’s home, in Venezuela .” answered Anita with a wink which seemed lost to her parents, but not to the beaming Balbina.

                #1054
                EricEric
                Keymaster

                  “I thought Tobi told not to open any door this month” Becky Tooh said to Tina, who was waiting patiently on the doorsteps.
                  JUST open the BLOODY door!” an exerted Tina finally managed to blurt out, remembering Mehmot Lung’s teachings

                  Tina had decided against all common sense to go to Becky Tooh (or BeckyT) and Sean’s house, not so much to happily gargle ga-bla-blu-blooes with the little crying and smelling babies, but to see if the clone’s health was really a concerning matter.
                  Al’s lack of attention on the subject had not very comforting. To say the truth, he’d been horrible as usual, and hadn’t told her he was going with Sam on a trip in the Floridisles.

                  Since New York’s flooding, and after a series of calamitous tropical cyclones, all was left of Florida was a thread of big islands, not as densely populated as it once was. However, a few of their friends were still living here, managing a dolphin ranch, and organizing on occasion some excursions with the dolphins in the lagoons.
                  Of course, she had remote-viewed it all, but it was horrible enough from Al to have assumed she would figure on her own.

                  But back to the subject, she couldn’t really decide if Beckitee’s state was alarming or not. Her lack of attention was surely running down the genes pool, she wasn’t expert enough to tell, but as far as her body was concerned, Beckitee looked absolutely perfect —though she still got hints of that little balding problem left, and so little (but noticeable, still) wrinkles on her arms, she thought.

                  Surely Beckitee was beautiful… Not sure she was as funny as Beckipoo though.

                  #1048
                  EricEric
                  Keymaster

                    When a distraught Becky had finished outpouring her verbose account, Tina drew a long much needed breathe —two in fact: one for herself, and another for Becky Pooh.

                    “You see Becky dear,” Tina raising softly her voice, with her usual sweetness and poise, “Your dear Dr Gayesh should definitely read the Cosemotology Monthly Report …”
                    “What are you talking about?” Becky couldn’t help but butt in.
                    “Well, no sooner than yesterday they had this in-depth article on the curative properties of nettles, especially on the effects of silicate which can help rejuvenate cells… This apparently has been used to improve some cloning processes on animals. I would expect someone with advanced talents like your Dr to know that, don’t you think?”
                    “Nettles? Are you sure you’re not on some better herbs than I would ever dream of tasting? This sounds like a lot of rubbish to me… And no need to roll your eyes, I can remote view you” Becky was infuriated. How could something so simple have escaped Gayesh?

                    “Unless of course he doesn’t want you to leave…” Tina said again so very softly it was almost inaudible.
                    “Oh, bugger with telepathy” Becky said, closing the connection to sink deeper into the ostrich feathers stuffed cushions.

                    #2149

                    In reply to: The Story So Far

                    EricEric
                    Keymaster

                      Tikfijikoo Island (continued)

                      (synopsis)

                      It starts with the Dr doing some evil tests on that remote island; he’s with the nurse Bellamy, whose forte is coconut tree frog-leaping, and Veranessesseesessesses with her impossible name (V’ass)
                      We then learn the Dr is mad, and his researches are financed by an occult organization, who V’ass is working for, to check on their assets; he’s mad but brilliant.

                      He’s a bit of a transvestite too (fullname Chris Bronklehampton)
                      The organization has given him a machine in which there is a crystal skull, unknown to him. This crystal skull seems linked to spiders somehow and his researches on spiders genome (blue bonnet), but we only know it’s coveted by many people. It’s all happening in our dimension, roughly at our time.

                      (Where Leo and Bea are renting Jose’s house and they are Dory’s and Dan timeframe ie: now)

                      The first experiences give dreadful results; there is Sasha (mummified by the doctor) who’s dead, and now speaks with the Dr; and there is Claude, who gained super strength and madness, and escaped the island facility.
                      Claude is one of those working with the Mad Baron ; he’s on a undercover mission to get the skull
                      (The false Viscountess —lady in salmon— at the auction was also working for the baron)

                      So Claude escapes but there is another mysterious person looking for the skull; it’s Madame Chesterhope, and she’s sent the magpies to steal it. The magpies are from another dimension, they are famous stealers.
                      Claude encounters the magpies on their mission. He’s captured in an energy labyrinth they have set on the island temporarily, to cover their tracks.

                      Meanwhile, Sha and Glo have arrived. Dory wanted to go but she couldn’t find the airline (bag lady)…
                      And Mavis later explains in a comment (555) how they all got involved in that adventure. She takes some time to convince her husband, and get to go to Tikfijikoo too. During the flight correspondence, she gets to know Paquita and Joselito.

                      On the island, the Dr is losing it seriously. He talks to the dead mummy, and had blond wig and stuff.
                      V’ass is reacquainting herself with the Italian of her secret organization, to report on the Dr. (insert steamy sex scene :)) ) )

                      Dory is back at Gib, with Dan and young Becky and later, her friends Yurick and Yann came to visit; go see Salitre :)
                      She has knowledge of Leo and Bea (Fletcher) – at whose place there are skulls too.

                      On the island, everything starts to get crazy; since Sha and Glo arrived
                      The magpies are ready to strike as a cyclone is coming.
                      Claude has recovered his memory and is no longer mad; but he’s still trapped and tries to find an escape in a strange tree. He goes into another dimension, the giant spiders’ one.
                      In this dimension there are a few human survivors. There is young Anita, and her mummified parents, but still alive from a plane crash; and a stranded soldier from WWII, named “Akita”, who’s got a spirit dog with him he’d found on the spider island.
                      They somehow managed to survive in the giant spider’s jungle (the island is on top of a sort of Bermuda triangle).

                      Anita is in communication with our four essences, who can manifest easily in this spider dimension and our essences are aware of an dimensional gate opening (the cyclone).
                      All this people get together and succeed in escaping through the wortex.

                      So now, that explains the people around the campfire on Tikfijikoo. It was all relatively brief, during the storm, where the others were sheltered on the facility (thanks to V’ass who cared for the careless Sha and Glo)

                      Sha and Glo find out the magpies trying to pry the computer open where the skull is hidden; they crush the magpies with coconuts bra slings (exit the magpies in purple blood ;)) )
                      They find the strange crystal skull they mistakenly think is some apparatus like an UV lamp. They take it to the UV room and plug it; it starts to project all sorts of lights
                      They want to dance, because it’s like a disco.

                      Meanwhile, one giant spider has managed to sneak through the portal, and goes close to them, but she gets sidetracked by the lightened skull and gets shrunk to a small size… and gets crushed by Sha and Glo (they’re the heroines of the day, but they don’t know squat ;)) )

                      There is also a honeycomb subplot with a man named Jarvis on the island, with beehives.

                      Now: Sha and Glo are dancing, Mavis is going out attracted by the campfire, finding out the survivors (The campfire was there because it’s night, and Claude is wary of the island’s owners, because he was abducted and mummified). The Dr is mad as ever.
                      The skull is in the UV room, but they don’t know what it is — only Madame Chesterhope and Claude are knowing (possibly Jarvis and V’ass); but Mme Chesterhope is flung into the ocean crashing into Mahiliki’s plane recently :))

                      #1798

                      In reply to: Synchronicity

                      EricEric
                      Keymaster

                        Some interesting syncs:

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

                        #1764

                        In reply to: Synchronicity

                        F LoveF Love
                        Participant

                          This afternoon we stopped at a little winery which is only open a few months of the year. I was staring at the red tops of the wine bottles to the point even of reaching out and touching one of them and saying “that’s nice” :yahoo_rolling_eyes: which made people look at me in wonder. When I got home I saw Tracy’s remote view object, so well .. my point is really … do you think I won?

                          #810

                          Quite frankly, Midora didn’t know how and where to look for Badul. She had spent lots of time delving into the labyrinth of chapters that composed the book, at first to no avail.
                          Only after some familiarization with the narrative had she come to roughly understand that the two books where rewriting the pages —or even, rewiring them— so that each time she started over, it was like a similar yet different story. Most of the alternate versions did occur within the same kind of environment, or the same dimensions as the previous ones, but there were always all kinds of small hints that made her get a small hunch that it was not quite the same story she had read before that was taking place now.
                          She had even become quite good at tracking down these flimsy moments where she found herself wondering what felt “different”, at odds, or simply not quite at the same place. Like in her dreams, these were precious cues telling her to pay attention. More than simple cues, of course some of them where howling at her face that something required her attention. The additions made by her distant relative Dory, or later on by her step-daughter Becky were compelling cases of such occurrences. Asynchronous apparitions of mummies sometimes reminded her of stories told by one of her father and where more generally speaking of symbolic death and regeneration, but when all of these cues where as many portals the details of which she could lose herself in…

                          Naasir had told her to find Badul. She knew Badul… Like Midora herself, Badul was a facet of the dreaming dragon who was exploring the many facets of itself in an intricate play, and it felt to her that Badul was stuck somewhere in the process and required some attention. In fact, she remembered that in all the versions of the stories that she had read about, Badul’s history was never ended. Each time, he was on his way to explore the new land he had discovered, and somehow, he just never get there.
                          When she was trying to get to the rest of the story, as much as she would search for it, there were only blank pages.
                          Perhaps it was for her to write them, like Indy did after she encountered that mummy decades ago, not necessarily to exorcise the experience, but rather to learn more about her connections.

                          What were her own connections? She wondered.
                          What did happen to Badul on his way to the clandestine traveling portal of Gralm Tur? And why did it matter? Did he found something about the network, and some link to the skulls which have been an obsession for quite some time for some of the major and most intriguing characters of this inter-dimensional sopoohpera?

                          Truth was, Badul felt a bit like an oddball to her. She didn’t know how to get close to him. Apparently, when she had read the early articles from her great-uncle Cuthbert, she had found out that he had connected quite well to the daunting character. As a matter of fact, most of his comments had helped flesh out the character, while most of the other participants in the books had been only remotely observing his deeds. However priceless these clues were, Midora knew by now that they were not absolute, and would rewrite differently if the story was asking for it. And in fact, perhaps her own addition would change whatever his fate would have been.

                          :fleuron2:

                          Midora could feel Badul differently now… a young boy, whom she is babysitting, in another life.
                          Bastian is baby Badul’s name and he’s a toddler, a toddler exploring an unknown world made of colourful toys.
                          Midora (her name’s Ada in that focus) likes to work for little Bastian’s family. The woman, his mother, looks a bit odd like Morticia Addams, or like a Cher just out of her bed, but Ada likes her. She’s busy traveling alot, and doesn’t have much time to care for the baby.

                          Midora thinks she has read about his woman somewhere in the books…
                          Could it be that? Yes,… there is little doubt about it.
                          It seems like she’s just run into young Carla

                          #760
                          TracyTracy
                          Participant

                            Elvira eventually reached the 25th bush on the left at Nutley Park with a bag of assorted garments for the near naked Becky, but there was no sign of her. Elvira investigated the rain drenched foliage, and deduced correctly that the bush had recently been used as some kind of camoflage cover by a taller than average person, mixed race and probably naked.

                            Elvira chortled with delight; she had loved her days as a private investigator, all those years ago. Well, she said to herself, With a combination of forensic and physical clues, and telepathic and remote viewing skills, I’ll have Becky into some dry – and decent! – clothes in no time at all. Elvira stood quite still (in the torrential rain, which drew a few puzzled glances from the people rushing past), with her eyes closed and a happy contented smile hovering about her lips.

                            Elvira was connecting to Becky, but she was picking up diverse and nonsensical impressions. A moose running up a flight of stairs, a monk sitting in the road talking about a cup……

                            Pffft, said Elvira, no point in pushing it. Let’s have a look at the physical clues.

                            There was an obvious trail of flattened wet grass footprints which meandered, at an incongrously liesurely pace, Elvira noted, in a random higgledy-piggledly fashion between the bushes, and occasionally in circles.

                            Elvira set off along the trail with a spring in her sprightly old step and an aura of pleasant anticipation. She loved following a trail of clues! My, my, she said to herself, this is what I’ve been missing. Hhhmmm…..

                            #744
                            TracyTracy
                            Participant

                              Just as Becky was retorting crossly to Al to please knock before remote viewing her, a clap of thunder made her jump (causing her dress to ride up alarmingly) and the heavens opened. Lashing rain soaked her to the skin, making the few threads of her dress become completely transparent.

                              Becky moaned in disbelief. Well, she giggled, suddenly seeing the funny side. (She was connecting to the Kuzhebarian Laughing Monks). This is one Wet Tarty Nun that couldn’t get much wetter. I hope Elvira brings a towel.

                              #719
                              TracyTracy
                              Participant

                                Becky put the butter back in the fridge and noticed a large casserole dish covered with a cloth. She peered into the dish, wondering what it was.

                                Oof! said Becky, wrinking her nose in distaste. It was leftovers of that ghastly reindeer stew that Elvira and Boris had contributed to the wedding feast, made with Al’s gruesome green bacon.

                                It’s a miracle we didn’t all die of food poisoning, thought Becky. That batty old crone Elvira was too old to be trusted in a kitchen, anyway. 121 years old, and showing no signs of kicking the bucket yet. Bring back euthanasia, she thought wickedly.

                                Oh I don’t mean it really, she said to herself (out loud, in case Tina was remotely viewing her again). I love Elvira really.

                                #713
                                TracyTracy
                                Participant

                                  Becky was far too happy to mind the snide undercurrents she could sense from poor jealous Tina. Dear Tina, she’d had eyes for Sean all along, Becky had known right from the start.

                                  Becky smiled kindly as she said to Tina: You’re such a sweetie pooh, Tina. I’m so glad you’re going to be such a big part of our special day.

                                  And then Becky threw her arms around her in a great telepathic energy bear hug and said ‘I love you, Tina’.

                                  Tina visibly quailed, Becky accurately remotely viewed, and her complexion turned an alarming shade of blotchy green. Tina spun round to the toilet, retching, thanking her lucky stars that she was already in the bathroom and close to the lavatory.

                                  #502

                                  Madame Butterbutt, the saloon landlady and iconic colourful figure, came back to her room in a fury.
                                  She was living above the saloon, in a large room tastefully furnished, with some exuberant objects that she had gathered from her many commercial acquaintances.

                                  She took one of her favourite cigarillos to calm her down.
                                  That Mc Gaughran was such a… she wasn’t at loss for words. But none of them would have been strong or decent enough for the dork that he was. Ooops she smiled, this last one had almost slipped out unnoticed.

                                  Unlike many people in that small town of San Demangelo, she wasn’t fearful of the man. Not of the man himself (she was almost a giantess compared to many women), and certainly not of his threats either, even though she knew what the man was capable of.
                                  She knew well many of his shady tricks, but she also knew things about him that most of the time sufficed to keep him quiet and docile.

                                  Today, she would have almost laughed at him when he had tried to pressure her by threatening to reveal to sheriff Ted Marshall her little trafficking of hallucinogenic toads. Pathetic of him.
                                  That was really nothing, a little commerce she had with some remote part of her family in Guatemala, especially the voodoo witch Nana Del Conda. These were regularly brought to her by the old ambulant quack Myrlin who was selling all sorts of hocus pocus remedies, keeping the potent ones for Madame Butterbutt.

                                  So nothing extraordinary about that… No,… what had brought her in that terrible mood was when the hoity-toity, pompous, arrogant, full of himself f*ckhead, oops she bit her lip again… When that jelly belly mugger had tried to coerce her into pushing the little Twi into his bed.
                                  Repugnant.

                                  When that foolhardy brother El Disperso is storming again into the bar to try to find quarrel and provoke the jelly pig into a brawl, she would perhaps let him have it his own way after all.
                                  Last time her loath of firearms had been directed strongly against the young boy, perhaps also to protect him too… Anyway, he was perhaps right, allowing himself to “float downstream”, from the hate to the anger… and perhaps to hope and joy again.
                                  She started to sound like dear ol’ Abe…

                                  #499

                                  Thanksgiving, 1847

                                  That last business trip in British Honduras had proven fruitful to Aldous. It had almost made him forget about the blue bull of the Disperso family.
                                  Because Aldous was a collector. No one truly understood what were his motivations, but he was driven by the highest ideals. Some treasures weren’t deserved by the profane, he was thinking as he was munching on a tender juicy turkey leg.
                                  He belched with profound depth.
                                  Yes, he was doing everything with utmost depth and dedication.

                                  Take that blue bull for instance… A gift from Indian officials he had managed to have them bring here. Its real place was in a zoo, with a small fee at the entrance of course, but most importantly some information on how it was acquired and by whom. Definitely not in the farm of some hillbillies just because they have happened to win that stupid rodeo contest.
                                  In any case, he would put that right again in due time.

                                  Let’s think of more pleasant things. Like these mahogany traders who had came into contact with remote Mayan tribes. Mahogany was nice, but Mayan treasure were even more interesting.

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