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  • “Oh silly me” Winky started to object (again), “I’m all nakie (and boobies), with a snail on me.” Then, she bit her lips, “I didn’t even know I had that much shyness and prudishness in me, lordy. I used to be much more daring.” She took a big inspiration, and channeling her inner fairy essence, started to ... · ID #2706 (continued)
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  • #4293

    The night was almost there, the dwarf would come out of his heavy daysleep any minute now. Fox had been collecting mushrooms along with twigs and branches to make some fire. He hoped the constant drizzle of these last few days had not rendered them too wet.

    The differences of his needs and cravings depending on his being a fox or a human had always amazed him. When he was a fox, he feared fire and would avoid it at all cost. When he was a human, he couldn’t spend a night out in the cold without a fire. His body was simply not good at keeping warmth inside when he had no fur. Today was no exception and Fox was certain the dwarf would also appreciate it to get rid of the cold of the stone.

    After piling up the wood for the fire, Fox smelled his harvest of fresh mushrooms. He imagined them accompanying a good rabbit stew and felt saliva water his mouth. His diet as an animal was mostly meat, whereas as a human he was oddly attracted to vegetables, and even enjoyed the taste of mushrooms. He might not enjoy them so much had he not met a girl once, so long ago when he was a still a cub learning to transform into a human. He remembered the girl had said she was called Eleri, which he had found amusing because in French “Elle rit” means “she’s laughing”.

    “How do you know French?” she had asked.
    “Oh! My master Gibbon teaches me French, he says it would give me another way of thinking the world.”
    “Your master must be fond of Romance stories,” she giggled.

    Fox didn’t really understood what she meant by that, and he thought it was not so important because what she had in her bag smelt so funny.

    “What’s that?” he asked.
    “You want some?” She handed a bunch of butterstache fungi to the handsome redhead boy. “I realise I don’t know your name.”

    “I’m Fox,” he said his eyes fixed on the strange looking things in her hands. He sniffed and wrinkled his nose. “Is it safe?”

    He remembered the look of incredulity in her eyes, her beautiful eyes. She was the first girl he had seen. He didn’t know much about humans except what Master Gibbon had told him in French, which didn’t really make sense at that time.

    “It’s totally safe, you might only have some funny experiences if you take the wrong ones in the forest,” Eleri laughed and Fox remembered the meaning of her name in French. He thought the name suited her well. He accepted her gift, for her eyes, and for her sincere laugh.

    Since that time, eating mushrooms was always coloured with joy and a sense of daring. The last rays of the Sun faded away.

    “It smells like mushrooms, and butterstache if I’m not mistaken,” said the raspy voice of the dwarf.

    #4254

    Eleri shivered. The cold had descended quickly once the rain had stopped. If only the rain had stopped a little sooner, she could have made her way back home, but as it was, Eleri had allowed Jolly to persuade her to spend the night in Trustinghampton.

    Pulling the goat wool blankets closer, Eleri gazed at the nearly full moon framed in the attic window, the crumbling castle ramparts faintly visible in the silver light. The scene reminded her of another moonlit night many years ago, not long after she had first arrived here with Alexandria and Lobbocks.

    It had been a summer night, and long before Leroway had improvised a cooling system with ventilation shafts constructed with old drainage pipes, a particularly molten sweltering night, and Eleri had risen from her crumpled sweaty bed to find a breath of cooler air. Quietly she slipped through the door willing it not to creak too much and awaken anyone. The cobblestones felt deliciously cool on her bare feet and she climbed the winding street towards the castle, her senses swathed in the scents of night flowering dama de noche. Lady of the Night, she whispered. Perhaps there would be a breeze up there.

    She paused at the castle gate archway and turned to view the sleeping village below. A light glimmered from the window of Leroway’s workshop, but otherwise the village houses were the still dark quiet of the dreaming night.

    Eleri wandered through the castle grounds, alternately focused on watching her step, and pausing for a few moments, lost in thoughts. It was good, this community, there was a promising feeling about it. It wasn’t always easy, but the hardships seemed lighter with the spirit of adventure and enthusiasm. And it was much better up here than it had been in the Lowlands, there was no doubt about that.

    Her brow furrowed when she recalled her last days down there, when leaving had become the only possible course of action. Don’t dwell on that, she admonished herself silently. She resumed her aimless strolling.

    Behind the castle, on the opposite side to the village, the ground fell away in series of small plateaus. At certain times of the years when the rains came, these plateaus were green meadows sprinkled with daisies and grazing goats, but now they were crisply browned and dry underfoot. Striking rock formations loomed in the darkness, looking like gun metal where the moonlight shone on them. One of them was shaped like a chair, a flat stone seat with an upright stone wedged behind it. Eleri sat, appreciating the feel of the cool rock through her thin dress and on her bare legs.

    It feels like a throne, she thought, just before slipping into a half sleep. The dreams came immediately, as if they had already started and she only needed to shift her attention away from the hot night in the castle to another world. Her cotton shift became a long heavy coarsely woven gown, and her head was weighed down somehow. She had to move her head very slowly and only from side to side. She knew not to look down because of the weight of the thing on her head.

    Looking to her right, she saw him. “Micawber Minn, at your service,” he said with a cheeky grin. “At last, you have returned.”

    Eleri awoke with a start. Touching her head, she realized the weighty head dress was gone, although there was a ring of indentation in her hair. Her heavy gown was gone too, although she could still feel the places where the prickly cloth had scratched her.

    Suddenly aware of the thin material of her dress, she glanced to her right. He was still there!

    Spellbound, Eleri gazed at the magnificent man beside her. Surely she was still dreaming! Such an arresting face, finely chiseled features and penetrating but amused eyes. Broad shoulders, flowing platinum locks, really there was not much to fault. What a stroke of luck to find such a man, and on such a romantic night. And what a perfect setting!

    And yet, although she knew she had never met him before, he seemed familiar. Eleri shifted her position on the stone throne and inched closer to him. He leaned towards her, opening his arms. And she fell into the rapture.

    #4188
    ÉricÉric
    Keymaster

      There has been a satisfying sense of getting back to normality, after Bea had moved into her personal equivalent of a Witsness Protection Program. (She had to keep the typo for clueing value).

      That satisfying feeling did last, for somewhat longer than she had expected at first. Not by minutes, actually, but by months, if the old calendar was to be trusted.

      She had swept a lot of the strange, mildly irritating, or concerning, or revolting occurrences under the carpet, like the old dust mites and bunnies, and discarded graham cracker’s packages. She didn’t mind the crunchy sounds of her carpets.
      So, she would have been hard-pressed to tell what was the event that made her realise something was not as it should have been. There maybe wasn’t an event at all, maybe it was just the subtle movements of the heart itself.

      At first, she had discarded the parting words of the techromancer as another type of mess-with-your-head mumbo-jumbo.
      It was only last night that she had remembered something about her youth —she could hardly tell if it was a memory of an alternate timeline, or a true event, that really didn’t matter. For a little while, she had been drown into the feeling of innocence, kindness and expansion, the taste of which she had not felt for very long.

      Out of the unexpectedness, out of the emptiness, she remembered the poem of Custard the Dragon. She was suddenly struck by an entire dimension that was opened through reminisced words “But Custard cried for a nice safe cage.”

      Where had her inner dragon gone? Where did The Custard that gobbled a pirate go?

      #4130
      ÉricÉric
      Keymaster

        “I think you’re ready now” the techromancer said to an incredulous Bea.

        “Really?” Bea looked suspicious.

        “Yeah, well…” the techromancer looked embarrassed “Not really. You’re not so easy to teach, and I’m not a great teacher either, but with what you learnt, you should be fine. Besides, you need to go now. They are coming for you.”

        The techromancer pointed to one of the directions in his hut, one of the many paths or tunnels that would lead her to a safe escape. For now.

        “So this is goodbye.” Bea said, a tad annoyed by the unceremoniousness of it all. “What next now?”

        “Remember what I told you,” the techromancer said enigmatically “about the custard.”

        “Oh well, that makes it so much clearer now.” Bea sighed as she popped out of the hut towards her new destination.

        #4105
        ÉricÉric
        Keymaster

          The techromancer was teaching Bea to hone her shifting skills.
          That was the only way she could escape her fate at the hands of the Scourge Moderators (or the Surge Team as they had been called in other iterations of that reality).

          Bea actually was a quick student, but she was too wild and would often go overboard with the whole reality shifting.

          “Focus!” he told her “only a sheet of paper will do for now.”
          “And you don’t actually need the cackling for it to work.”

          #4094
          ÉricÉric
          Keymaster

            Bea had finished taking notes for her last client’s reallocation.

            Nowadays, she wouldn’t release the cackle at each and every time.
            It was too time consuming to realign her wits after it shuffled reality, and it was actually more effective to do many changes at once.
            That much she’d learned. It was like giving dog food to a pack. Much better to give all at once to the hungry dogs, rather than try to organise the melee.

            She was about to call for the next client, when the walls of her kitchen trembled.

            The next minute, she was in a labyrinth, dark and comfortable, with a musky smell, and soft sounds of coconuts thumps on a beach faintly in the distance.

            A looming silhouette was here in the dark.

            “Hello Bea” it said “welcome to my hut, I am the techromancer.”

            #4010

            In reply to: Mandala of Ascensions

            Dispersee couldn’t stop thinking about the carbonite, feeling that there must be more to it than just a master tricksters method to slim down the graduate class. She wasn’t even all that surprised when, within moments of research, she had chanced upon the Villa Poppacea in Italy, although it wasn’t the carbonized apple that interested her.

            Some of her students were studying their Roman connections, assuming not altogether wrongly that the explorations would assist their ascension process. It appeared that one of the individuals that had come to their attention, Lucius Crassius, had owned the neighbouring villa.

            #3940

            In reply to: Mandala of Ascensions

            “Actually, I was thinking about you, Dispersee, for a rather delicate mission.”
            Medlik said in a slightly coying voice. “I’m getting anxious vibes from the Lady Floverley, and I think she may have run into trouble with the lost refugees.”

            Medlik knew he’d caught her attention at the words “archangeology” and “refugee”. He didn’t actually use yet the word “archangeology”, but don’t forget all time is simultaneous in the Ascended Spheres.

            “If I remember well,” Medlik continued with increased coyness “you were accustomed to delicate tasks of exploration in connecting with sensitive groups of people and tribes of many cultures in another lifetime of yours dear Gertie.”

            The remembrance of her old nickname triggered amounts of memories, sand and romance, not necessarily in that order, nor in any order as it may.

            “Well, then, it is agreed Lady Dispersee. You will go to settle the Dessert Lands, and offer the recalcitrant story refugees a domain carved from the old stories, with new borders and frontiers. Settle them well into their new territories, and let them forget about these silly liberties they have taken with their roles. Pip, pip, off you go. And don’t forget the Lady Floverley in her predicament.”

            Medlik almost thought of how leaderly all that sounded, but he wouldn’t tip off the Lady Dispersee who would surely stubbornly go the opposite way, had she realized she was about to miss a novel way to defy authority.

            #3499

            In reply to: Scrying the Word Cloud

            TracyTracy
            Participant

              max coffee
              smell particular creatures, somehow
              butt (silence ~ worry comes) elephant;
              myself, understand techromancer needed feelings.
              welcome arona! abalone according itself……

              #3489

              “Is a closet full of brooms the best place for a meditation ? I’m starting to get cramps” Terry whispered.

              The three queens couldn’t see Sadie’s eyes rolling, but heard her sighing “Dearies, when I was your age, I could meditate in far worse situations…”
              This wasn’t completely true, but Sadie knew a little truth bending wouldn’t hurt —to the contrary.

              Setting the ezapper on “drum”, they all started to follow the instructions that Sadie had given to them. Follow your spirit animal to the techromancer’s hut. Simple enough.
              Hell yeah she’d thought, feeling a little guilt at her cunningness if dear Linda isn’t going to send me back there, I’m going to find him, and a little pooling can go a long way.

              And if… someone asked in the dark
              If you don’t know your animal, just follow the bloody scorpions, they’ll help with the soul retrieval . Sadie answered, immediately regretting having spoken too much and opened the door for more question.

              She raised the volume of the drumming and closed her eyes.

              #3379
              F LoveF Love
              Participant

                At first, Sadie did not realise she was invisible.

                It was only when she looked in the bathroom mirror she realised something was missing, and even then it took a moment to register. Thinking about it later, it seemed strange to her that something as monumental as being invisible could have gone unnoticed for at least 5 minutes. Yet she had risen that morning with her usual feeling of happiness that everything was right with the world—it was a feeling she had worked hard to cultivate after many hours of selective brainwashing and meditation practice at the Academy.

                After the initial shock, Sadie realised what must have happened. Before bed the evening before, she had finally plucked up courage to do the set of exercises given to her by the Techromancer in 2222. He said it would assist her in her attempts to leave her body and explore other dimensions. Clearly, something had gone very askew.

                ”Right then”, said Sadie, trying to remain calm and rather relieved she could still hear her voice, ”I am going to have to message Linda Pol and explain the situation. I will request to be returned to 2222 so that I can have another chat with that Techno weirdo.”

                ………………………………………….

                Linda Pol was delighted to get Sadie’s timely message on her e-zapper. But she had no intention of returning her to 2222.

                Not just yet, anyway.

                #3363

                The Time Seam Bar, as they renamed it, for all the efforts put in it had a slow start, but after a few weeks started to do extremely well.

                Admittedly there was a bit of a public relationship boost offered (not quite completely out of generosity obviously) by the cable network. They’d been alerted of the re-purposing of the Time Sewer facility by the Queens after a routine control of their presence on cleaning duty. The report wasn’t glowing, but somehow a business-oriented member of the Board managed to get the Cable Network to lend some money and advertisement to bring the little venture to the next level.

                Props got a major overhaul and interior designers helped rearrange the space. They even got the Queens an impersonator of St Germain, an old has-been forgotten star who was still on the Network’s payroll and whom they didn’t know what to do with. He was actually doing a brilliant St Germain.

                Amar was in the room at the back, doing some accounting while Reginald was at the bar and Cedric was managing the fat dancers and, of course, St Germain’s shows. So far, the arrangement worked well, and they were quite proud of their success. Cedric’s mother couldn’t stop her praises and rants on the website’s page, so they had to moderate it a bit, but that was basically the most trouble they were in.

                “Another day gone well…” Reginald was removing his wig and make-up, with Amar still counting the last cash made for the day.
                “Reg’, I’ve started to remember things from our visit at the techromancer’s hut, I still don’t know what to do of it.”
                “I’ve been remembering stuff too… Some scary shit.”

                #3357

                When Irina, with Mr R and Greenie in tow, approached the spot where the robot had detected activity, she had a lurching sense in her stomach that something strange was about to happen.

                Some buzzing seemed to approach and leave, like a wobbling effect in the air around them, although she could see nothing.
                Mr R, with its caterpillar boots seemed to have to trouble moving ahead, but with a silent sign of her hand, had him slow the pace down and move more silently.

                A cracking sound, and she turned around.
                A woman with a shotgun pointed at her was there, and a guy with handsome features. Caught unaware, Irina froze, and closed her eyes, trying to reach some inner peace before the imminent gunshot.

                “Madam? Are you alright?” came Mr R’s soothing voice. Next to her, Greenie was drawing on her pants, with a concerned look on her face.

                She opened her eyes, confused and relieved. The odd couple of hunters seemed to have vanished. Yet, she could have sworn hearing a gunshot and the blood of a giant mosquito splatter all around.
                She could as well have dreamt all awake, as there were not a single trace around to back her vision.

                “That’s what it is then…” Irina started to realize something. “Mr R, if you will, what about those presence you detected earlier?”
                “Gone Madam, it seemed to have been a glitch.”
                “A glitch, yes…” she said pensively. “Or something else…”

                The things she’d just experience reminded Irina about some of the things she’d read in the past about the Bardo state of the Buddhists. She wasn’t a Buddhist, more a Realist ascendant Romantic. Yet, they made some interesting points about the nature of reality.
                Usually, Irina was the kind of girl who liked to work up to her goals’ achievements. Building the little place for herself, even if mostly the work of Mr R, was a good example. Give her enough time, and she would always find resources to make a better life for herself. But here, it seemed beside the point. It could well be an endless loop.

                She wanted to pierce the veil that surrounded the place, instead of erring in the fog of her own projections. She looked at Greenie and Mr R. She wasn’t sure they were real any longer, even if she had sure grown fond of them. She would see…

                Now, how to get this island to reveal its secrets… As much as she found it boring, prayer or meditation seemed to be the only solution she could come up with for now. Less fond of the first solution, she chose the second and sat cross-legged on a mossy patch of the bog, where the sound of water seemed to have the right qualities.

                #3346
                ÉricÉric
                Keymaster

                  Some update on the current plots and maps:

                  Queens Team

                  Our main protagonists seem to have yet to digest their past adventure…

                  In Marseille, 2121, contestants in a Drag Queen’s contest, they had their first mission through Time Sewer mysteriously sending them in Louis XV’s Versailles, and start a quest for mysterious ferrets with keys, helped in their travelling by their ex-judge turned chaperon Sadie, equipped with an all purpose e-zapper, and the batty Sanso always keen on providing the strangest travelling devices.

                  They find one of the keys in the stolen ferret left in the Chapel before they even really start on their quest. Not long after that, they are also robbed of their dance opportunity and show minutes before the attempt on the King’s life, due to the network cancelling their show (and decommissioning the Time Sewer). In a last ditch attempt from Linda Pol to provide the network with a valuable pilot material for the television show, she remembers references of a crystal (sent to her anonymously), and have the Queens propelled in year 2222, Big Island, Hawaii. On arrival, they chill and get sidetracked on a visit to a (you guessed it, mysterious) techromancer.

                  It all appears to be part of the plan to gain life-everlasting by transmuting gold of a (yes, mysterious) cranky old billionaire in kilts named Jonbert who is living in a time-travelling submarine with sentient robots, and who has manipulated events so that the Drag Queen show would place them in possession of a special set of keys that he could then retrieve from them.
                  Unsurprisingly, nothing works for him as planned.

                  Unknown to him, the Queens had only secured one of the keys, the other being unwittingly carried away by maids of Versailles during their balloon escape, with a parrot named Huhu. Manipulated by Irina, a… err… mysterious Russian socialite with a trusty robot Mr R at her side, the parrot steals the key, but faints of exhaustion during the escape in the ocean. The parrot is however rescued by on a ghost galleon and revived by its occupants, who are on their way to a particularly momentous whale gathering in 2222. Sidetracked by a navigation tile displacement, they are in the end successful in beating the odds and arrive too in Hawaii 2222.

                  Equipped in breathing wetsuits, the Queens are sent in the depths of the ocean, where their clumsy and noisy explorations are carefully followed by the octopi and other inhabitants of the underwater world.
                  They get sidetracked and temporarily separated when some go exploring underwater caves.
                  Whales are gathering, and activating the giant crystal, when everyone arrives at the scene. Somehow, Mr R on Irina’s orders manages to provide to an unsuspecting Sadie the second key, which has been expertly tempered with.
                  Sadie, realizing this is the missing key, activates it, and unleashes a chain of events leading to a earth-shattering revelations and a breathtaking video of a St Germain hologram doing karaoke with whales and other gyrating cetaceans drunk on red algae.

                  The network is saved, and they are safely sent back to Marseille, where they are welcomed back by Linda Pol. It earns them a contract, which turns out to be mostly for the decommissioned Time Sewer maintenance.
                  They plan to turn it into a bar, in a re-enactment of their minute of fame, with fat pole-dancers as whales, and St-Germain impersonators singing contests.
                  Not much is heard from Sadie, who had managed to get a raise and less working hours, or of Linda Pol, last seen in Maui island, Hawaii, 2121.

                  #3324

                  Irina gave an appreciative look at the holographic map that Mr R had made of the island.
                  By a simple triangulation technique combined with sophisticated echolocation, the robot had managed to come up with a rough estimation of it, even though scattered patches were black, representing the blind spots, apparently due to the abundance of water bodies on the island that created interferences.

                  “Well, it actually looks better than I expected, the coast is a bit rocky, but probably more temperate and less humid than here. Some of those spots here seem to hint at habitations…”
                  “Madam is absolutely right” Mr R opined with confidence, and a glimmer of pride in his forehead interface.

                  “When the girl is well enough to travel, we’ll leave.”
                  “She’s still a bit cold and delirious.” The robot assessed, “Her condition has improved steadily, if not quickly. There is a good chance the green won’t go, but she will live.”

                  “Have you finished the sentinel?”
                  “Yes, Madam. It is complete and will serve well in monitoring the gate. Besides water rats and wrecked boats, not much seems to have went through recently. Although…”
                  “Yes Mr R?”
                  “I’m not quite certain Madam, which is confusing for me, but there was a moment were my sensors noticed a presence of a young person, but it lasted only for a few nanoseconds in a row, then I could not perceive it… It probably was a malfunction of my sensors Madam, I apologize, but the humidity…”
                  “I don’t believe your sensors malfunctioned Mr R. I do believe someone’s been trying to phase in, but didn’t succeed. Make sure your sentinel can detect such things…”
                  She went on: “Another thing, before I go for my astral meditation. Did you manage to get me a date? I’m no rocket science expert, but it sounds easier to get than your quite astonishing map Mr R.”
                  “Madam is too kind. And as as always, perfectly astute. This should be easy, but again this modest robot has run into a profoundly perplexing paradox.”
                  “A paradox, how exciting. What is it?”
                  “According to the shifting position of constellations during the nights and the sun’s elevation, the results differ from one day to another. We have to run a few more test to be conclusive…”
                  “Is is a local occurrence?”
                  “It seems to be true for the whole island, Madam. It is currently fluctuating between a series of years, some of which I mapped to the following years, in no particular order: 555, 777, 888, 1010, 1111, 1212, and so on until 2121, and as well, a series of related geographical points on the Earth.”
                  “No wonder it seems to be the garbage collector of the entire universe”, she sighed.

                  Then, something hit her.

                  If myths of such places were to be trusted… Could it be… the mythical Avalon ?
                  If that were the case… Who could well be the mysterious resuscitated bog mummy?
                  One of the island’s Queens ?”

                  She smiled to herself, brushing off the notion. Irina, you’re such a hopeless romantic…

                  #3285

                  Secretly, Sadie had a beautifully laid out plan in her head, like a vacation plan with stop-overs at luxury hotels, and activities to entertain the children.
                  That made her slightly miffed about the succession of sidetrack adventures and the lack of focus of her protégés.

                  The plan was simple enough, they had to take the magical crystal from under the whale’s noses, and get back to the closest Time sewer, where they could funnel up (her fancy verb for “complete”) the special reboot edition of the Time Draggler’s show.

                  Surprisingly, Linda Paul’s interest and instructions seemed to have weakened and her usually generous and unwarranted input have been inordinately limited. Maybe the summer heat wave had mollified her, or her projects had shifted since the pilot of the Time Draggler’s show had failed to grab the network’s attention and fulfil its promises.
                  She couldn’t say. But something in what the techromancer told her had stuck, and she couldn’t quite shake it out. “A train will come for you, and you will have to catch it, this Time is your train.”
                  The hell if she knew what Time that was anyway.
                  But one thing was sure, this one-time gig was growing on her, and she didn’t want to get back to dog food tasting. So one way or another, she’d have to make it work, and move the drag’s lazy butts to make a heck of an entertaining show.

                  “Look! I vink vey’re over vere!” Maurana was getting the gist of the telepathic conversation.

                  It was lucky the interior of the cave was lit, as outside the night had fallen like a cold black carpet on a pack of dust bunnies, dropping the water’s temperature. Luckily, the suits seemed to have their own warming as well as glowing mechanism.

                  Terry was over Consuela, who seemed unconscious and in a REM sleep.
                  “Hey! Consuela learnt your eye rolling technique!” Maurana gleefully tuned towards Sadie.
                  “Don’t be silly, I think he’s in shock, pass me that electric eel, to wake that bitch up.” Terry was always for a bit of drama. It seemed to do the trick.

                  “Woah, you can’t believe the stuff I’ve seen…” Consuela’s pupils were dilated so much it was hard to see the whites of her eyes.

                  “Classic case of red algae intoxication, no need to consult the ezapper for that” Sadie said. “It is known that dolphins use it as a shamanic tool to astral. The concentration in these waters is surprinsingly high. Nothing than some fresh water can’t cure.” Too much time under water, she started to babble like a fish.

                  The Time window wouldn’t stay indefinitely open. She needed to get them move, and take back her authority. With children like them, one thing that worked was to shake some shiny stuff in front of them and let them follow it.
                  “Anyone interested in a Whale Queen’s Race?”

                  #3277
                  Jib
                  Participant

                    It wasn’t important to the techromancer how long he had been living in this hut in Hawaii. A very special hut connected to many realities and times at once, a perfect representation of his mind. People would get lost in it, they did not understand how it worked. He just had to emit the intention of whenre he wanted to be and let his body follow the sound patterns. It worked very similarly to that sarcophagus in Giza. He helped in its making.

                    For now, he simply wanted to take a bath. He didn’t like being in contact with too much light, which always triggered a benign itching, soon spreading across his pale skin, erupting in red patches that only long immersion in water would sooth. His little sister used to say he was a dollfinn. It seemed strangely distant and yet close to this time-space reality.

                    The roughness of his rags didn’t help with the itching. He liked to think of them as his Jedi costume. The fabric, plain and rough, helped him remember that he was also made of flesh. A most difficult idea to keep in mind, as his was expanded in many times and realities at once. It helped cover his pale skin from light contact as well as create an aura of mystery with the few people who managed to find him. He had been most surprised by the last one, Sadie was her surface name. Memories of futures past rushed through his mind hut, momentarily disrupting the sound flux leading to the bathroom, and amplifying the itching. Now was not the right time and place.

                    Darkness and stillness are the basic components of awareness, he focused on that simple thought that would bring him peace and stability of mind. Keep the floughts away. It was easy to understand that for him darkness was as light is for us.

                    The bathroom he had chosen was in almost total darkness, for us. Even if it had a window, it was night outside. The window was only for the gentle breeze. He didn’t need light as his inner vision could see the patterns of movements of his reflected mind. He took off his rags. In the absence of light, his pale silhouette was almost glowing. The patches of red now looked like continents on a ocean of milk. One could notice a dark spot on his sacral bone. The tattoo of a black scorpio with a red dot. Red was also the color of his eyes. He was an albino, with red eyes like a rabbit.

                    He sank into the water with a gush of pleasure piercing through his mind. The multidimensional walls of the hut trembled.

                    #3262

                    After they’d jumped in the robot (which had shapeshifted into a sand buggy big enough for them), they had to cling tight to the railing of the light vehicle, as the robot was driving recklessly into a jungle of unexpected leaves and green vegetation tentacles.
                    It wasn’t long before they were back on the gorgeously rugged Hawai’ian beach, taken on an unexpected dune racing along the coast.
                    The queens looked exhilarated, but Sadie was a bit overwhelmed, especially after what the Techromancer had told her.

                    The wetsuits fitting session passed in a blur, as the breathable elastic material was made to adapt to their bodies. Really, the only thing left to choose would have been color, but it was able to change itself at will, with very little shades it couldn’t replicate to perfection, even the Bollywood shine and twinkle that was all the craze in the 2019s.

                    “But we’re in the 2222s now!”, Maurana had voiced her disapproval of her choice of glittery fashion. Little did Sadie care about it. Her mission seemed to stretch to sidetracks and unneeded distractions on her path to Great Happiness.

                    All four of them clad in their fancy bathsuits and looking more like hippy frogs than sassy mermaids, they followed the robot on the miles-long deck that led to the horizon.

                    After half an hour of walking on the narrow bridge, they were at a good distance from the coast and Terry started to pant and breathe heavily in her green sardine scales costume.
                    “Stop! I got to catch my breathe, how long it’s going to be now? We were promised a soirée! Not a walk on the wild side!”

                    The robot, rolled back a few steps, and turned briskly.
                    “Actually, Sir, this is a perfect spot for your whale training”

                    And before they realized, the robot had opened the deck under their feet, plunging all of them in the ocean screaming.

                    Thanks to her excellent training and natural sharp reflexes, Sadie was the first to realize a few things.

                    • They were all alive
                    • They were able to breathe underwater
                    • Their suit enabled them to talk and understand each other in what sounded like whale-speech.
                    • A looming shape was quickly closing on them, looking dangerously like that of a giant toothy white shark.
                    • Her mind was a mysterious thing.

                    Why? Simply because the previous thought was coinciding with another one which was saying unequivocally that she still hadn’t found a proper dragqueen’s name for herself, and yet another one, even more funny than all others, saying in between bursts of infectious laughter that her last words could well be whale speech, and would make a hell of an epitaph.

                    She floated for a time moment stretched into an eternity, weighing all the rippling probabilities and wondered what her next move would be, as she was in the void of creation, hovering under a vortex of thoughts, with a sea of twinkling stars beckoning her further down the ocean’s clear bottomless depths.

                    #3246

                    Jonbert’s robot had easily found the location, but it was in standby in a cafe near the techromancer’s hut, posing as a tourist in a flower shirt with a straw hat and a glass of coconut oil.

                    Jonbert had received additional information about the whale network which seemed to change slightly his plans. The Ghost Whale who was supposed to preside over the rituals was apparently delayed in Time, making the retrieval of the second key problematic.
                    He would have loved to rudely prompt Linda Paul to get her Queens in alignment, but for now, there was no point to that yet. He’d better leave them at their little escapade, under close surveillance from his robot.
                    In all cases, they would all have to wait more in the nexus of times.
                    Using his ivory carved forking long shoehorn, he scratched his itchy back. It was for him rather infuriating to be stuck, he sighed “Stuck in 2222!”. The robot bearing those news had learnt it the hard way.

                    He stroked distractedly his luscious mane of red hair. At 153, thanks to regular nano-implants, Jonbert was incredibly healthy, in a very healthy and hairy manner, unlike many others he wouldn’t name.

                    #3245

                    Sadie stared for a long silent moment at the odd looking guy, wondering how whatever he could say could help her on her path.

                    She was about to decide it was a fruitless quest and leave the girls waiting behind have a crack at him, which would be easy given his desperate lack of style and fashion and need for a manicure. But then, the techromancer broke his meditative silence and said in a very loud voice:

                    GOOD day to you! You KNOW very well you are only going to get an ANSWER if you ask your QUESTION, and that getting back without asking it, is not ACTING on your EXCITEMENT. So, what is your STORY, HERE in the 2222 NOW?”

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                  • “Oh silly me” Winky started to object (again), “I’m all nakie (and boobies), with a snail on me.” Then, she bit her lips, “I didn’t even know I had that much shyness and prudishness in me, lordy. I used to be much more daring.” She took a big inspiration, and channeling her inner fairy essence, started to ... · ID #2706 (continued)
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