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  • Yorath was still trying to explain the nature of forests, the rekindled understanding of the woodland habitats, the memory storing capacity of the vegetation in a vast network of twining tendrils and roots and so on, when Lobbocks burst into the room. Leroway had been finding himself unable to detach the workings of his mind from the ... · ID #4264 (continued)
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  • #3020
    TracyTracy
    Participant

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

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

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

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

      #3018

      Special Detective Bryan Connor of the Third Task Investigative Unit of the Surge Team Force pored desperately over his case notes. He’s been tracking the elusive Wordblade ever since the Wordblade almost wiped an entire Verse civilization off the face of Demonta, where the surge began. He scratched his temple feverishly & clamped his eyes shut. The Wordblade’s latest massacre occurred on Twitter, where he publicly slaughtered the alphabet.

      “How is it possible that he cannot be caught?” He pondered aloud. “He commits deed after deed of expression & he cannot be accounted for.”

      Just then, Mari Fei strode through his marble-walled office. Her commanding stride elicited an aura of assurance and regal confidence, & Connor turned around & met it with relief sighing through his breath. “Ah, Professor Fei of the Institute of Spirit/Consciousness. I’m so glad to see you. Perhaps you could-”
      “Assist you in locating Wordblade?” She chimed in. She laughed heartily at the sight of Connor’s astonished & mildly bewildered expression.
      “Don’t bother yourself with asking me how I know. I just do.”
      “Ah, then I have no need to impress the severity of these circumstances. The Wordblade’s elusive deeds are overwhelming: he seems to be intently breaking every rule for the sheer fun of it & he doesn’t care.”
      Professor Fei slowly walked pass him & climbed up the spiral stairs that led to a balcony overlooking the vastness of the Murtuda Galaxy. The Murtuda was the biggest galaxy in the southern Universe, & by far certainly the biggest, boasting a total of 125 portal-highways that bore the blood of intergalactic travelling.
      “Bryan,” she sighed. “Don’t concern yourself with catching Wordblade or understanding his motives. That young man is a danger unto himself, so we just let him be.”
      “But if we let him be then we may never calculate the amount of havoc he could wreak!”
      “I know that, but the issue still-”
      “No!” He broke her off. “The Counsel always justifies his deeds as an issue of self-freedom. He’s out there slaughtering alphabets & kicking poets’ butts for being normal & the Counsel embraces that?”
      He became silent for a moment, contemplating the Professor’s response. He knew he took a bold step but the Surge Team was on the verge of capturing Wordblade & they needed as much help as they could.

      When the Professor turned around, she looked calmly at him.

      #3017
      TracyTracy
      Participant

        meanwhile in South Africa, an alphabet slaughtering surge made landfall, scattering the inhabitants, celebrities and everyday heroes alike. Some suspected the elusive Wordblade

        “Alliteration ascends the assonance of abseiling abstract aspects of anterior antiquities from ancient altars,
        Bouldering down blocks of brooks that break the boring & bland borders of bondage,
        And blinking through bleak and black boxes of brisk bravery.
        Creeping into crops of crooked crocks with crotches of cockroaches cramming into cans of calamity, the crisp cat crackles the calling.
        Dreaming of damning devils and demons dancing in droplets of dreary darkness drags the drunken diligence from the draught’s damnation,
        Even the everlasting ethereal elves ebbed and eased into the effervescent eloquent estate of eternal elitism.

        For the feeble and fumbling fatuous frontiers, the folly frolicked and fornicated with the familiar friend from foes’ fervent fevers;
        Greater than gradient grand gestures of gestaltic granite grasses,
        The gruesome grizzle grabbed the gore by the gripped grunting.
        Higher than homelands of hands in horizons,
        Heavens and Hells or Hades hazily hear the honing of the horses and horns-
        In internal infernos of inflicting infringes of institutional insurrections Interrogations instigated imminent innate innovations.
        Jacknives of jaundiced and jilted jokers jabbed at the jumping jingles of the jesting jackals that jet over jerseys of jeering,
        For the Killer Krakens kelp the kites from kids who keep kaleidoscopes of kind and keen keepers.

        Longer than languid lads that laze in lost latitudes the lieutenant lounged behind lines of lingering losses-
        Maids mellowed around mazes of men and manners of mad moments and made for mates on mattresses on mothered matrimony.
        Noisy & never-ending neckties on nests of nicked numbers never nominated the nurses that nosed the nuns for nuns’ nihilism
        Beyond the Oligarchs of overt operations of obligating omnipotence ostracizing the omniscience & omitting its ownership to the omnipresent order.
        Pilgrims to pentagons by people from poached & palpitated places of placards of propaganda pondered their positions in this power polarity
        When quivering quills of quavering queens quelled the quarterly quests of the quaint quarrels.

        Because roving rivers of raging ravines and raving reviews raced to the rest of the ripped rampant ravages and revelled at the rambling randomness
        Structured subsiding and subsidized societies should string the strongholds of the supreme sultans of seeded senses.
        Taking the trusty treaty the trussed toppled truants took the trickling ticking of time to the tables of trampled trees of timber,
        For under the ubiquitous umbilical umbrellas of ultra-sounds from upper-level ulcers underground underworlds underestimated the union.

        Vivid visions of voracious vampires of vexing vacuum vortexes vilified the vindicated vindictives from the violent vapid vanity
        While wild & wily whiskers of whispered whisky whisked the wailing widows
        From the wells of wanting when the wanton warriors walked on waters.
        Yards of years of yearning the yesterday’s yonder yarns of yellow yolk yawned Into the youth’s yoked yams
        For zigzags of zapped zebras to zip the zest in zealous zones.”

        #3016
        ÉricÉric
        Keymaster

          The celebrity surge as well as the past week of haphazardous strategy meeting in Shangpoon had left Cornella panting and pondering on the mysterious meaning of the motto of these meetings: “touch stone, pass the river”…
          Now with Easter happening around the same time as the Chinese Tomb Sweeping day festival, an odd impish idea crossed her mind of switching the invitations she was to send for tomb-sweeping with those for Easter eggs hunting.

          #3012

          In reply to: Scrying the Word Cloud

          TracyTracy
          Participant

            started mouse eye eliza location thinking bugger purple taking skye
            late comment ground pin fine surge bodies chinese towards help covered

            #3007
            ÉricÉric
            Keymaster

              The impending strategy and budget review was now quickly upon them.

              The much questioned old new authority of the Surge Team had decided all the countries had to join for that week long first round of strategy plan and as Long Poon was too much of a reminder of work (they said, but many suspected too much of a reminder of Ed Steam’s empire), Madam Li had graciously offered to host the venue in Shangpoon, where they had managed to corner 15,000 floating piglets and her services were still probably needed.

              All the thirteen chief operatives were busy setting things in order, and delegating current tasks during their business trip. Some of them were still hopelessly fumbling in spreadsheets and slides —a inane exercise in style they thought, but still…

              “I can’t stand it!” Cornella almost exploded in front of her computer, now returned to decent level of cleanliness since Aqua’s return. She was sick of this old ageing alzheimering authority. Not that she missed Ed too much now. He was a pig —and gawd, this waxed mustache from another epoch… A pig they all liked because they didn’t know better at the time and his charisma covered for all the tiny slips of behaviour or even judgement. She’d seen that same feeling when the ceremony was held for his ashes spreading; most of the tears shed there had looked a bit contrived.

              The mission to replace the pope with an alien-reconfigured Jesuit was a success, thanks to clever team work and her stellar delicate planning skills. A plan hatched before Ed’s demise, but that the old guys had been glad to call theirs. That was the waking call for her. If they could get rid so easily of the papacy, she would blow that budget convention from inside.
              That required thorough planning though, and a bit of luck. Most of the chick would gladly be on board with this.
              That’s when the mysterious vanishing dog legs cabinet came back to her attention.

              #3006
              Jib
              Participant

                The pond was full of black tadpoles. The creatures were wriggling restlessly, following invisible currents, connecting dark stains packed with thousands of them. Benjamin Goat immersed a small plastic bottle into one of the biggest node, it sucked the little buggers like a fat syringe.
                “Such a small container won’t reduce their population too much”, he thought. Indeed, he had always wondered why there were so many of them in the early stages and why you would see so few frogs or toads. The remaining tadpoles were beginning to gather around his hand. He repressed a shiver. A new idea for a movie just sprang up from his subconscious. Something to do with man-eater tadpoles. That would certainly hit the box office for months.
                He smiled. There were enough of them in the bottle.

                “Yuck!” said a fat pink lady before licking her strawberry ice cream.

                “It’s for my son”, said Benjamin just before realizing he was justifying again. His psychiatrist had told him there was no need for justifying, it was like apologizing, and he needn’t apologize, he was the great Benjamin Goat after all. He snorted and mimicked drinking from his bottle. This time, she was disgusted. She made the mistake to hold her ice cream too far from herself and one of those Gib’s monkey with the pink ass stole it. She was shouting now, people would pay attention to her instead of him. People always pay attention to what’s more annoying.
                Paradoxically, he felt a pang of jealousy. He was not used to let go of others’ attention.

                His cell phone vibrated, three long vibrations and seven short ones. The code for his secret society. It was a great idea to put it in his last movie, unfortunately it hadn’t had the desired effect. People were so gullible that they would believe everything that came out in a fiction movie.
                “The Jesuit is in the place”, said a vocoded voice. That was all. It could only mean one thing. It was all going according to the plan. He smiled and handed out the bottle to a kid. He wouldn’t need that after all.

                #3002

                In reply to: Scrying the Word Cloud

                ÉricÉric
                Keymaster

                  world seen suddenly smiled, trip come realized
                  read beginning mean dead floor smell street
                  bottle quickly odd ground keep king moustache

                  #3001
                  ÉricÉric
                  Keymaster

                    Ed Steam’s brilliant plan was simple enough. He had dreamt about it a while ago and the idea had grown on him ever since. Now, he had all he needed to make it happen. The land, the materials, and the artefacts and rotes needed to manipulate the bulk of it around.

                    It was simple, actually and yet every detail had to be perfect. There were matters of perspective and proportions that were delicate to manage.
                    And of course he had to be careful using the artefacts with finesse, to be undetected by the Surge team’s monitoring systems. He had designed most of them, so he wasn’t too concerned, although Cornella’s upgrades may be more efficient.
                    He had calculated the project would probably take him years to complete, but he was fine with it, it was a fun adventure, creating your own palace so to speak.

                    First, the grounds. That of a glorious castle, with French gardens on a large lightly sloped tumulus. His armoured bears could stay in the surrounding forest where beehives were strategically placed.
                    On top of the tumulus, instead of a castle, there was a large mill, a cross between a windmill, castle and lighthouse maybe, with walls white and round, many entrances, rooms and stairs leading to the upper levels. That was where most of the work was to be organized. The whole roof was actually like a city, with narrow streets even.
                    Except the buildings where made from entire stacks of full-sized caravans, making living units, each with its own interior and decoration.

                    He didn’t know why the stacks of caravans were so appealing to him. Frankly, said like this it could seem like a hill of rubbish dump. However, he had visited this dream place when it was full of people, a fellowship of people living in the caravans and enjoying this particular place. He’d figured, this seems so great and I have the means to create it, so if not me, who else?

                    #3000

                    “How do you feel now?”
                    “Not so bad, considering I just survived a slug indigestion…”
                    Ernie and Jett were giving sad glances at their nearly empty glasses of Bourgogne red wine. Ernie’s plate of snails au beurre persillé was barely touched, and Jett who was eyeing at it for a while now as he was sucking on his empty shells decided now was a good time to grab it and switch it with his own empty one while continuing to rant loudly in the French restaurant with his mouth full.
                    “You see, that’s why I don’t like those bloody Chinese greasy spoons, especially after a surge. You never know what you’re goin’ to get. Me in’ haffin’ none of it sea bloody bottom-feeders cucumber…”

                    Ernie was still looking a bit pale, except for the occasional patches of purple hematomata, that the doctor mentioned would disappear once the body manages to expel the impossible to digest slug.
                    “Should have had that blessed surgery, would have been faster” he moaned.
                    “Are you kiddin’? Look, don’t want to be gross or anythin’ but last time I had things expelled too fast, it wasn’t a pretty sight!”
                    “Oh stop it again with your oily shit fish, that’s a blessin’ disgusting memory I would merrily forget!”.
                    “L’addition!” Ernie had had enough of Jett’s snail munching. It was time to get to their next assignment. Even if the occupational medicine doctor had tried to deter him resuming work too quickly, it was better that than dragging around an empty house in flip-flops and pajamas.
                    The good thing was that the Disaster Damage Team was never short of assignments. Most of the time they were working in locksteps with the Surge Team, clearing the aftershocks, so they didn’t have to fear about boredom.

                    #2996
                    ÉricÉric
                    Keymaster

                      “Blimey! The Pope, eh? Are you teasing me again?”
                      Vera didn’t answer.
                      “Oh come on! Don’t give me that need-to-know-basis treatment, as much as I love a good riddle, I hate secrets! Are we going to look for the reincarnation of a famous Pope à la Little Buddha? Tell me, tell me!” Bouncing with excitement on the rolling Eggsway made her almost fall head over wheels into a flangeway carved into the muddy track that went deeper into the forest.

                      Regaining her balance, she looked ahead to see Vera was already a few meters ahead — and navigating the Eggsway was becoming difficult. She knew she should have opted for the 4×4 model…
                      So… Vera wasn’t really paying attention, she would have to try another approach to worm answers out of her. What was so special about this place anyway? Lost continent of Mu, ancient architecture, maybe underwater tunnels… Nothing that would lead directly to the Vatican she surmised… Unless…

                      They arrived at a clearing in the forest, where blue glow sticks had been placed in a round pattern. Vera was standing there, after having carefully placed a glowing green rote at the center, staring at the middle of the light circle, and without turning her head to look at her, told Lulla “Here’s your answer coming.”

                      A huge buzzing throb started to fill the air, sounding to concentrate at a focal point not higher than 10 inches above the ground, at the exact center of the blue circle. It begun sparkling and * BooM *, in all its slimy tentaculeous glory, a spaceship was there.

                      “Special delivery from our alien friends” Vera said, finally deigning to look at Lulla.

                      The rather small spaceship started to slowly expand, becoming larger, until an opening appeared, letting a form emerge from the membranous appearance of the hull. The form which looked like some person was suddenly dropped unceremoniously with a * Plop! * while the spacecraft elastically recovered its initial shape.
                      Moments later, it was gone, and with it the buzzing sound.
                      The green rote payment was gone too. Greedy aliens.

                      “Come on, let’s bag this guy and bring him home for phase 2. A red convertible SUV is waiting for us at the portal’s entrance.”
                      So, that’s where I come in… Lulla was starting to wonder what was the use of her being here, since Vera was so bossy and secretive. But now,… Of course she was better at hatting, but she could call herself without bragging a real bagging specialist.

                      #2994
                      ÉricÉric
                      Keymaster

                        “You’ve fattened.” She had not yet set foot on land that Vera’s first comment to Lulla set the tone.
                        Lulla threw the rest of the skewer in the bin, and managed a genial laughter. She was not one to take umbrage, much less to hold grudges. And although technically Vera was not right (she had managed to lose a stone since Fat Tuesday), she was still weighing a whooping 23 stone. Far from her 57 kg ideal weight. She laughed to herself at the thought that she was weighing more than two of her ideal self. That had to account for something.
                        Relocating from the coast of Guyana where she was born to São Paulo had not been easy on her silhouette, as she liked to blame the greasy fast-food here. But at some point she had ceased to care, although such snarky remarks sometimes still managed to push her buttons.

                        “Yes, I know, look at those leggings, the stripes have that effect on me.” she simpered with a wink that she was sure would annoy Vera no end. “So what are we doing here small Pohnpei, micro-Micronesia of all places anyway?” She asked, pushing her pocket-size folding Eggsway ahead of the curb, while Vera was strolling at her side, in long strides of her fine endless legs.
                        “To do some cleaning, what else?”

                        Lulla stopped her Eggsway to look with bewilderment at the stoical Vera.
                        “Madam Vera Pappaloosa,” she said slowly, with a hint of concern in her voice. “I hope it’s not one of those messy jobs again that require to dress in funny smelly hot pink outfits that make us look like hot pink plastic bag ladies, and swim in it until you’ve lost two pants sizes by sweating them off?”
                        “Oh, stop it Lulla. You guessed right, I suppose. But don’t worry, you can keep your hat on.”

                        Lulla was ready to turn her heels, or rather her Eggsway’s wheels around, when she was surprised by Vera’s crystalline laughter. She was all the more surprised that she didn’t even know Vera was capable of laughter, being so expert at concealing her emotions.
                        “I was just pulling your leg, we’re on a mission to find the next Pope.”

                        #2990
                        ÉricÉric
                        Keymaster

                          Looking at the city illuminated by endless fireworks, Madame Li was almost glad to be back in Shanghai for the Chinese New Year. The vibrations, explosions and sparkling lights sent shivers of pleasure down her spine, reminding her of childhood excitement and of times before her awareness of such things as surges.
                          She wasn’t back for leisure however. A new snow surge had followed the air pollution surge. This was most unnerving, and she’d heard from Anita Charmpatti, her counterpart in India that a fog of pollution had hit New Dalhi as well.

                          At the Long Poon Headquarters, against all expectations, a certain Lord Lemon had taken over the head of operations, flanked with two even older museum-worth pieces of antiquities (names Hyphen and Dash). All that had left Cornella utterly disappointed after her last past weeks of brilliant interim. Truth be told, without her scrupulous continuation in the footsteps of Steam, the Surge Team could have been no more. She’d managed to rally back Skye after her taking unnoticed leave of absence in Wales that could well have been an attempt at an early retirement. She also had talked back (and not without a fight) Pearl and Mari Fe in line of duty, and after the looting of the artefact chamber, the collection of rotes gathered after the past weeks contained surges made it look as if they were all back to business.

                          That Lord Lemon was an old bastard from the early ages of the Team. Usually, in that risky business, you weren’t expected to grow very old, much less to be able to retire. That one having been able to do both surely meant one thing. He wasn’t here to fool around with,… even though he looked capable of little less than managing his early bouts of Alzeihmer’s.

                          #2986
                          Jib
                          Participant

                            Aqua Luna had difficulties understanding what the voice was telling her. The words made perfect sense, separately. They were like bubbles floating around her, she could almost see them. Each had a different hue and some where even shining a bit.
                            “What am I experiencing ?” she asked.
                            At least it was her thoughts, but she wasn’t sure the voice would understand as each bubble seemed to follow its separate route once out of her mouth.
                            When more bubbles appeared in the room, it seemed they were coming from all around her, and not from a specific location. She wondered if she was in some kind of whale ship, in its stomach.
                            When more bubbles came, she began to feel a bit irritated. She smashed one with her left hand and got startled by the booming “SHAKE”. She retreated on the spongy stomach which was emitting bubbles now. She tried to shoo them away and their explosion was more like a squishy sound.
                            A bigger bubble was coming toward her. It was with shades of pink and blue, very vibrant. She put her hands on her ears before it blew out, but the sound seemed to come from her skin now.

                            HAHAHAHA

                            When more bubbles came to her, the words she heard were the following

                            quickly full days told moscow
                            dragon sounds face earth itself
                            pin often middle herself under light
                            katarina warm asked further turned

                            It made no sense at all, but she was beginning to find it fun.

                            #2985
                            Jib
                            Participant

                              The fresh breeze on her face awoke Aqua Luna. She struggled a moment to open her eyes, and realized that it was completely dark around her. The floor she was lying on was soft and spongy, and when she moved to sit the soil emitted a weak suction noise as if full of water. But it was dry, that she could tell after so many years of cleaning. And the smell on her finger was merely that of her familiar detergents.
                              She was feeling a bit numb and in a neutral mood. She couldn’t remember how she arrived here. She hesitated a moment and asked “Where am I ?” Her voice sounded muffled and distant to her.
                              “You’re on my ship,” an unknown male voice answered after a few seconds.
                              “Why is it so dark?”
                              “I didn’t want to frighten you.”
                              “Am I a prisoner ?” she asked, checking if she could feel something else past the numbness. “Are you going to torture me ?” she probed with no more success with her feelings.
                              “To the contrary, earthling, you are a very valuable person to us.”
                              She thought about her work. Maybe the Long Poonese mafia abducted her to extract some information.
                              It was so dark that colors and shapes were beginning to appear before her eyes.
                              “Did you drug me ?”
                              “It was a necessary precautionary measure for your own good. “

                              #2981
                              Jib
                              Participant

                                Have you ever dreamt that you forgot to put your pants on to go to school or to go to work? How did you feel in the dream ? Ashamed ? At ease ? Were you wondering how you got there in your undies ?
                                Dream memories were flying in Madam Li’s head. It had been a recurring dream in her childhood and her most dreaded fear. She had always checked on twice before living her house that she had a dress or trousers long enough to hide her ankles.

                                Her cell phone didn’t have any battery left and she was late. She would have to find one in the street. She ran out of her apartment after having checked her outfits twice and reassured took the elevator. She had her bags with warmer clothes inside for when she’d arrive in Harbin for the ice festival. She looked nervously at her cell phone again, still no battery of course. She put it back in her handbag. Someone entered the elevator, 30 more floors to go. She gasped when she realized the man, a westerner, had no pants on. She looked away quickly. Was he not aware of the missing element in his outfit ? She decided to make as if everything was normal.

                                Things went worse when she got out of the elevator. There were two men and a woman waiting at the check out desk, and they had pink underwears. Apparently the first man didn’t know them and the service apartment employee behind his desk didn’t seem at all surprised by the situation. When it was her turn, he looked at her, and at her long dress. She gave him the keys and as he turned away to put them back on the wall, she noticed that he was bare legs too. Something was wrong. Was it a surge in the population ? Would she have to stay here longer ?

                                #2972

                                “I still don’t know what we’re doing here, Glo. Azerbaijan in the middle of bloody winter?”

                                “The nightlife, Sharon, the nightlife!”

                                “So what do we do during the day, then? Besides freeze our ample tits off?”

                                “Let’s have a cuppa somewhere and decide. I saw some lovely pastries in that cafe over there, come on.”

                                ~~~

                                Sharon licked the crumbs from her fingers and leaned over the table, whispering to Gloria. “Can’t help but eavesdrop, did you hear what those two on the table behind me just said? Something about buying carpets. I could do with a new rug for the bathroom, shall we follow them? They seem to know their way around here.”

                                “I dunno, Shar, they look a bit tipsy to me. Look at all those empty Guinness cans.”

                                #2968
                                ÉricÉric
                                Keymaster

                                  Madam Li contemplated the pill-like translucent object glowing bright red which could barely fit in the palm of her delicate hand.
                                  People usually said that you could try and hide your age as well as possible on your face, but that hands didn’t lie. Hers actually were still a young woman’s fine delicate and smooth work-of-art.
                                  The snow had stopped immediately, leaving the weather in the Pudding area as it used to be: a pale mist of polluted fog, thus returning Shanghai to its normal weather patterns. The rote was there in her hand, full of the last surge’s energy, a tempting promise of uncontrollable power, but she had seen far too much power struggle and horrors to be really tempted by it.

                                  Ed’s demise had taken her by surprise. Although she did look young, it was her heart who really betrayed her. She hated people leaving her, and she would have expected Ed to survive her own death. It was the first time she was considering ever so briefly the thought of retiring. Of course, she still would need to find a replacement at her post, but China was full of eager potentials, that wouldn’t take too long.
                                  Putting the rote in the diplomatic case, her gaze trailed on the invitation, still on the table. She wasn’t ashamed to admit her first thought went to the cleaning lady who had been careful to dust all around it, without moving it an inch off the glass table top.
                                  Spain just came as an afterthought, already having lost its appeal as soon as summoned.

                                  Wrapping herself in her white fur coat, she called for a taxi. She would be just in time for the ice festival in Harbin with a warm dog legs’ soup and some yak butter tea.

                                  #2950

                                  In reply to: Scrying the Word Cloud

                                  TracyTracy
                                  Participant

                                    map impulse~
                                    french round:
                                    real told towards gibber, looking life chinese far, done matter surely.
                                    lost home means sound, random bright.

                                    #2939

                                    Arona felt something was wrong. The invisibility cloack was moving on its own. She looked around and met Vincentius eyes. He seemed as puzzled as her. Actually, the cloack was moving upward. She looked behind her and gasped. Yikesi was almost as tall as herself. Actually, it seemed now that he was a bit taller than her, and he was still growing.

                                    Pearl screamed. She just saw what looked like feet appearing from nowhere, and legs were growing on top of these feet.

                                    Janet fall from Vincentius’ lap, the cloack was now only covering Yikesi’s head, which was big.
                                    Vincentius let the teapot fall on the floor, where it broke into hundreds of pieces. Bee and Mari Fe were upside down, and in all that confusion, the cat who was very specific in his vision spotted them. Despite his intelligence and his other dimensional quality, his instincts, reinforced by thousands of years of habits, influenced him deeply into the natural feelings of the hunter. He began to hiss and prepare himself to jump on his preys. But Arona was pushed by the still growing Yikesi and fall upon him in a ouch.

                                    Mari Fe, totally oblivious to what could have happened with the cat saw the gigantic body of a baby missing its head. The cloack was still big enough to hide it from sight.

                                    “Rats”, she said, “He ate all the jelly babies, we’re stuck into miniatures!”

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                                  Daily Random Quote

                                  • Yorath was still trying to explain the nature of forests, the rekindled understanding of the woodland habitats, the memory storing capacity of the vegetation in a vast network of twining tendrils and roots and so on, when Lobbocks burst into the room. Leroway had been finding himself unable to detach the workings of his mind from the ... · ID #4264 (continued)
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