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  • #3119
    F LoveF Love
    Participant

      The news of the Russians shook her and Sadie contemplated using the time in the carriage to do extra visualisation around a successful outcome for their mission. However, the temptation to get more details proved too tempting. Her Mentor at The Academy, Yuni Sauce, had advised she should curb her tendency to look at what is and spend more time creating what she desired the outcome to be, however Sadie found this a difficult habit to break. Especially when she was tired and worried that her bowl haircut looked ridiculous. It was okay for her 3 companions, they were wearing wigs! Well, it had seemed like a good idea at the time, she mused, trying to make light of it. Maybe she could ask her companions for some styling advice.

      She distracted herself by doing some quick research on her e-zapper; she discovered that on the 5th Jan 1757 a French domestic servant, Robert-François Damiens, attempted unsuccessfully to assassinate King Louis XV, by stabbing him with a knife. Damiens was captured and endured horrific torture before eventually being killed. Sadie shuddered at the description of the barbaric administrations performed on the poor man, who some thought to be mentally instable. Perhaps if she ran into Damiens she could warn him not to do it! She quickly dismissed the fleeting thought as foolish. It was strictly against protocol to knowingly mess with events in other time frames—other than the specific mission—and she could well lose her position at the Bureau if she were to disregard this rule. There was a difference of opinion as to whether changing events in time would alter the time line they were currently on, or whether a new parallel reality would be created. Until further research she knew she must adhere to protocol.

      #3118
      AvatarJib
      Participant

        Maurana found it difficult to climb in the coach with her 6” Goochi platform shoes. Golden intricate patterns on a red velvet. The first time she saw them on Internet, she immediately thought of Dorothy. What couldn’t she do with these shoes, she had thought. Where couldn’t she go ? She hadn’t thought of time travel at the time. Now the when couldn’t she go question seemed to be part of the shoes. She sat on the narrow seat, the one in the back. Sitting in that dark little coach, knees almost touching her face, the proud drag armor began to melt away, letting appear the insecurity of a teenager through the cracks.
        The teenager wondered for a moment if he had bumped his skull on the steel frame of the sewer and was dreaming, or maybe he was dead. He looked at his two friends, Consuela/Cedric was desperately trying to find the network with his phone, trying to reach his mother again. He was always trying to reach his mother when in doubt.
        Terry was climbing in the coach, apparently still herself as a drag. She seemed to be quite comfortable.

        “I can’t believe we’re going to meet the Queen”, she said with a thrill. She sat near Maurana, trying to make her false bum fit in the narrow seat. Her knees were also dangerously near her chin. “We’ll have to find new wigs and dresses, more suitable for the circumstances”, she said with glitter in her eyes. “I’m so glad we are in this adventure together, you, Consuela and meeeeeee!!” She kissed Maurana on the cheek and the lost Queen was back on her Goochies.

        Sadie got back in and looked at her e-zapper for a few seconds. “Tell your friend to get in. We have company. The Russians have sent their own team to retrieve the ferrets.”

        #3097

        The verdict was definitive. The competition had been fierce and now only the best of the best would go to the final and mysterious mission.

        Terry Bubble couldn’t believe her ears and fanned her glistening face with her powdered hands batting her eyelashes to contain the swelling tears when she heard Linda Paul say in her snarkily uppity voice : “Uhuh, that dress, oh that dress sweetie, that was an offense to good sense, but you did lipsynch to perfection with this pouty mouth of yours… Terry Bee, you stay with me.”
        Then, turning to the other competitor, the gorgeous Tina Turnover look-alike in her glittery purple dress, a.k.a. Shantay Mûre. “Shantay, you go away.”

        Terry bowed to the jury, firstly Linda Paul herself, of course, then the sultry sulky Sadie Merrie, and finally took an extra second for Lady Gugu, who she was sure tipped the balance in her favor. She never was a big fan of the ageing star, well-known for her antics and poultry dresses, but there was no denying she earned being the sensation she was all over China —or that he was, there were lingering suspicions about this, which of course didn’t matter in the drag race.
        It had to be thanks to her ; maybe she was fond of sardines. Otherwise, how could self-doubt-ridden Terry Bubbly, like her friends barely over their teens, could hope to compete with the other seasoned divas, like Pseu Flay with her lion-mane wig à la Cher, who were nonetheless one by one eliminated by a strange turn of events.

        :fleuron:

        The selection had gone flawlessly. Linda Paul was boucing with effervescence and delight.
        “Dearies, dearies, you have been competing fearlessly against one another, now is time to be a team. Or find a time in which to be…”

        The three queens looked stymied. They were not used to share the limelight and shine in pairs, much less in a trio.
        Terry, Consuela, Maurana, you will be our three Muskqueerteers, fearlessly donning on wigs and shiny attires on a mission to retrieve a precious item for me.”

        The screen shined brightly to reveal a glittery pyramid, announced by the anchor’s male voice “The Queen’s Ferrets au Rochet!”

        “But of course, I cannot send you back without a chaperon. Fear not, fate has decided for us, that among the jury, it will be…”

        Terry hoped for Lady Gugu, she already looked like Elton Jaune in a wig, and would do great with Louis XIII, or Richeliou for that matter.

        “… Sadie Merrie!”

        “Oh good grief…” Terry’s shiny Elton Jaune in her thoughts suddenly was transphormed (as if they all had been into a huge deFørmiñG mirror) into that of Milady of Merry.

        #3085
        TracyTracy
        Participant

          “The rugby game was also in the ocean.”
          When Dove mentioned barnacles being like belief attachments (or something) Trove googled Barnacle Bill (the sailor), and listened to some rugby songs. She had recalled the rugby songs and how rude they were when she had overheard the bawdy conversation in the dressing room of The Twitz.

          #3062
          F LoveF Love
          Participant

            flower synch! but her mind was dulled with tiredness and she could not explain, although they questioned her relentlessly.

            “Just align with whatever path you are on… it is by far the easiest way” she whispered as she dropped off to sleep.

            She woke to find herself on a path. It was dark and only the ground directly beneath her feet was visible. It was hard to move forward under these conditions and she desperately wanted to see more. She fought with the darkness until, eventually, she realised the darkness was an illusion. With that realisation she took hold of the darkness and it fell away in her hands revealing a stage.

            The stage was bare, other than an old boot and a plain wooden chair. She sat on the chair and looked around.

            “This is a bit gloomy” she said. “I want flowers”. And deep crimson wild sweet peas appeared. “I want lots of flowers! And I want blue sky and sunshine and a few fluffy white clouds and a gentle sun shower for me to dance in and a rainbow to fill the sky with wonder.” And as she wished, the bare stage was transformed to a landscape filled with a vibrant profusion of colour and life.

            #3058
            TracyTracy
            Participant

              One could very well wonder why, when thoroughly appreciating a most exceptional ramble along uncharted or at least long forgotten territory, one would experience a back ache. That is, until one realized that without the back ache, one would have perhaps continued the walk, or, upon arrival home, engaged a few of the usual morning activities; instead of picking up a cold cup of tea and sitting down immediately at the computer to recover, enabling the perfectly magical incident of a perfectly timed conversation, far from unconnected to the initial ramble.

              #3051
              F LoveF Love
              Participant

                Recovering herself majestically, Tina put on her headphones and played her isotronic creativity tone in order to contribute (and the term “contribute” is used loosely) to the discussion (also used loosely) at hand.

                Tina sat and waited for inspiration. It soon became clear that inspiration had taken a vacation. “Without even sending any casebook notes for perusal. Selfish Inspiration!” thought Tina petulantly.

                Inspiration, telepathically picking up on the Tina’s thoughts, smiled knowingly to herself. Winter, to all intents and purposes, had already arrived, and yet the day was still and rather warm. Picking a particularly vibrant yellow daisy she noticed growing wild among the stones on the side of the path she skipped her way back to the hotel for breakfast.

                #3046
                TracyTracy
                Participant

                  Oh vacancy! I thought you said vacation! Of course everyone’s on vacation, ever since the vacating spree at all the unministries and unfactories, yes, factories were factored right out of the equation when the 3D printers came out, and everyone went on vacation. Some of the folks from the unminsitries went on vacation to the new unfactory resorts, which were somewhat unsatisfactory really, and some of the folks went to the new unministry resorts which on the whole were more satisfactory, and generally speaking, in more prestigious locations, notwithstanding that the very idea of prestige was a quaint relic but historical re enactments were popular ~ not at first, but later, when the dust had settled after the initial shuffling around.

                  #3015
                  TracyTracy
                  Participant

                    Much to Pearls amazement the celebrity surge mania that had taken hold of the lower ranks of the surge teams assistants was starting to infest the higher ranks as well. In fact it had started to infect the celebrities themselves, as well as the royal families of several European and Middle Eastern countries. Celebrity mania had surged with an unholy vengeance just after lightning struck the Vatican, when the pope was led away in handcuffs the previous month. Royal princesses, not satisfied with the rank of just one position, recklessly started claiming the lives of feckless celebrities as their own. Celebrities started insisiting that they were directing Directors, and informing cameramen that they were a focus of theirs too. The cameramen wondered whether they even knew what P mode was, and who was in charge now anyway. The King of Spain decided to claim Madonna as his own, and refuted Lady Ga Ga’s claim that she was in fact directing him. A Pointless TV quiz contestant claimed to be directing Stephen Fry, which was clearly rubbish; many dismissed the claim as distorted.

                    #3009
                    TracyTracy
                    Participant

                      It was the month of mass lunacy, and all through the house, all the creatures were snoring, except the mouse. All mad as Almad on the Rides o9f March, Mari Fe cackled out loud, then pulled a face, remembering the feel of the spongy mouse between her fingers in the kitchen sink. Expecting the blockage in the drain to be dog hairs, the surprisingly solid but spongy feel had been a shock, and the sensation had lingered nauseatingly.

                      How long had he been in the mop bucket? Then it dawned on her ~ the dog leg riddle. Of course! He appeared just after the first dog leg clue ~ and no doubt left, via the mop bucket, when the dog leg riddle was solved.

                      Mari Fe shivered, it was all rather spooky. No wonder she felt a bit mad.

                      #2961
                      TracyTracy
                      Participant

                        Pearl sighed. “I can’t find the location. Even the dog leg method didn’t give me any clues. I’m going to forget this for awhile and have an hour on Flackbook.”

                        Mari Fe breathed a sigh of relief, and tried to erase Moscow from her mind. But before she had time to refocus, Pearl shouted “Aha! Katarina inserted the address on my newsfeed. Here is it, Mari Fe, look!”

                        It said:

                        “19 January at 15:00 in UTC+03

                        Каждую субботу начиная с 08.12.2012 на Лубянской площади / Every Saturday Moscow, Russia, Bolshaya Lubyanka 2, 107031”

                        Mari Fe groaned.

                        “There’s more!” Pearl said, “Baku / Azerbaijan “ ‎12.01.2013 Армия во время митинга в Баку”. She looked at her watch, and frowned.

                        Mari Fe, prepare for teleport right away. We have less than 6 minutes to get to Azerbaijan. Toot! Toot!”

                        “But I only have one pair of thermal socks and one Norwegian wool sweater!”

                        “Oh cheer up, Baku is among the world’s top ten destinations for urban nightlife, so I’ve heard. And Baku hosted the 57th EuroVision Debt Contest in 2012, too. We’re going to Fountain Square you’ll love it.”

                        Mari Fe set a strong intention to arrive in summer.

                        #2936

                        Sanso loved old maps, and was eager to help Vincentius spread the map out on the living room floor and have a closer look. It extended to a full 8 meters in length when it was rolled out, and Sanso and Vincentius had to kneel down and crawl over it to examine it. The map was like nothing they’d ever seen before, certainly it didn’t resemble the current state of the globe, although it had confusing similarities in places. Some of the names were familiar, but not in the usual locations, and there were some familiar land masses, but many were quite different.

                        Meanwhile, back in the kitchen: “Take the lid off and have a look inside” urged Janet.
                        YOU take the lid off, what if the mouse runs over my hand?” said Pearl. “I know, let’s get Ed to do it.”

                        Janet and Pearl were cackling and bumping into each other, Pearl holding the teapot outstretched in front of her, and neither of them noticed Vincentius kneeling just inside the living room doorway, hidden behind his invisibility cloak.

                        Vincentius looked up but was unable to move in time. Pearl tumbled over his back and the teapot flew out of her hand. Vincentius managed to catch the teapot but the lid flew off and hurtled across the room, catching Sanso on the side of the head. Janet fell over Pearl and landed on Sanso, although of course she couldn’t see him, as he was wearing the invisibility cloak. Vincentius looked on in horror, clutching the teapot close to his stomach, upside down. Bee was able to slide down the spout, straight down into Vincentius’ shorts. Bee let out a long whistle. She wasn’t called Belle Endwhistle for nothing, after all.

                        Pearl sat up and rubbed her knee, wondering why Janet was hovering in mid air, and the tea pot was upside down and apparently defying gravity too. “Perhaps it wasn’t such a good idea to have a tea break after all”. She wasn’t able to see Arona and Mandrake rolling their eyes, hidden as they were beneath invisibility cloaks. Pearl wasn’t able to see Mari Fe either, as she was too small, and appeared as no more than a dog hair covered bit of chewed up toy goat leg on the floor.

                        #2905
                        ÉricÉric
                        Keymaster

                          The package was labeled in Sinese. Goat was fluent in a few languages after many a travel, and although Sinese wasn’t his mother tongue — he was only half-Sinese from his father’s side, he could read it well enough, and make himself passably understood in most of the Colonies.
                          It was a code, or more precisely, a reference. It said 时间舱23号, which you could probably translate as “Time capsule #23”. Back in the days, the Surge Team would bag and tag any strange artefact they confiscated during their missions, and usually would archive them in such capsules.

                          Although the concept of Time-capsule in itself for the old teams was soon to become somewhat of a mind puzzle if you thought too much of it, it still held value of… archaeological, rather than historical sorts for their descendants, such as himself. Of course, if you’d like some wild flowers, you’d rather pick them directly in the dewy meadows or mossy forests where they grew instead of taking them from the interstice of an old moldy book between the pages of which it had been laid down to dry, wouldn’t you. Now, anybody could easily become an historian with complete immediate sensory experience of past times at their perception tips —much like how it started, back in the twenty hundreds, with everyone able to become an amateur geographer in minutes with instant access to the satellites maps of Earth.
                          But being a map reader would never suffice to make you a sailor.

                          So, of course, Time capsules somewhat felt like such old dry plants if you were an historian. But if you were looking for ancient treasures or secret powerful artifacts, you knew you couldn’t just bring them from the past lest you disrupt the chain of events leading you to it. Many had gone madder than Lord Elmed trying to figure out safer ways. Time capsules were such a way.

                          “Now, I guess that fishy stench was there for a reason after all,” he sighed: to keep intruders and medlers off of its content, surely.

                          #2900
                          TracyTracy
                          Participant

                            As quickly as the mouse had appeared, it vanished. Mari Fe rolled a smoke and sat down, and tuned into FBF2. She was pleased to see Tanit had reactivated her tiles. Then she frowned. Coincidentally, Tanit had reappeared on FBF2 at precisely the same time as Elza had deactivated her surge team location chip.

                            #2888
                            AvatarJib
                            Participant

                              Aqua Luna was was mopping the floor of the Surge Team’s HQ. She was not strictly speaking a member of the Team, and the only sponge insigna she had was her mop and the few sponges she used to clean the keyboards and the screens of “the deck” as they called their room full of computers and screens and blinking red and blue lights.

                              She’s been here for ages, since Lord Ed Steam had founded the organisation actually. People didn’t usually pay attention to her and she could go everywhere. Almost. There was a room where she couldn’t go and she didn’t know what was in there. Only the higher ranked members could penetrate this secret room. She tried several times to cast a glance just before they closed the door, but there always was some bloody smoke coming out of the room.

                              Her mama had told her many times, ‘Aqua Luna, there is no smoke without fire’. There must be a huge fire inside that room for it’s always smokey.

                              The door opened again, but she was too far and she only could see the fumes again. ‘Could that be a dragon ?’, she thought. But what use could the surge team have of a dragon. Aqua Luna knew for sure that dragons were real. Her Mama had told her so when she was a kid, and she trusted her Mama, even when she was shouting at her. ‘It’s for your own good Aqua Luna”.

                              This time it was that young woman, Cornella who went out. She seemed concerned and she was talking in her unicomp.

                              #2861

                              In reply to: Tales of Tw’Elves

                              ÉricÉric
                              Keymaster

                                “Feels a bit empty now, doesn’t it? A bit of bloody hoarding wasn’t all that bad after all,” Elizabeth now mused amused, while her newly acquired pet lemur was massaging her cheeks with velvety paws.
                                swat
                                All had been oddly strange lately. She’d even felt in the mood for some sweeping,… not to mention managing to remind something to her editor.
                                swat
                                That was a first, as memory matters had usually been all shades of grey for her.
                                swat SWAT!
                                What next she would create, she wondered.

                                The drowsy lemur voiced a shriek of panicked anguish when she abruptly left her armchair.
                                “Oh, you bloody shush now, don’t get all bossy on me just because I forgot where I put my bloody satisfied-or-your-money-back coupon.”
                                Malicious as it were, the lemur had been for a purpose, and was quite good at it. Fly swatting. She wasn’t getting a refund on the rascal, dead flies were piling around, almost blocking the door, and that was a sight she reveled in.

                                #2851

                                In reply to: scattered grasps

                                F LoveF Love
                                Participant

                                  His voice lowered, she is saying some very strange things Tina, ….. Nothing Becks, I am not whispering …. and can you send some blue diamond healing energy… this conversation is getting stranger and stranger!

                                  #1514

                                  In reply to: Tales of Tw’Elves

                                  F LoveF Love
                                  Participant

                                    “Oh, and she got 222 points in wordplay for ‘youarethefuckwittp’ “ chimed in another, also unidentified voice.
                                    “Is that a word?”
                                    “Apparently so … yes I believe it is in the 2057 Erstwhile Lemoaning first edition dictionoory … phrases which have come into common usage … just because of how often they are used in everyday conversation.”

                                    #2092

                                    In reply to: Tales of Tw’Elves

                                    ÉricÉric
                                    Keymaster

                                      “Now what? T-R-E-X ? To be serious?…” Eliza was patronizing again. “What’s a Trex, by all means? That’s not even in the dictionary, I’m sure!”
                                      “As if you’d started to care” Flinella rolled her eyes, while at the same time managing to discreetly wink in passing at the little reptile whose tail was wrapped around her neck as though it were the latest fashion. “By the way, it spells T-Rex, you dimwit.”
                                      “Well, good for you sweetie, it only scores a measly 21 points.” Eliza bit her lip ignoring the offending remark. Then hit by a sudden realisation, she stopped dead in her tracks, all thoughts of vexation lost in the current wave of thought.
                                      “Wow, I’d never thought of that, but just imagine the size of those dinos’ fleas … Makes me shudder at the thought of it.”

                                      #2841

                                      In reply to: Tales of Tw’Elves

                                      TracyTracy
                                      Participant

                                        There was something afoot in amongst the silent racks of books, something Luigi couldn’t quite put his finger on. Frowning, he peered at the monitor screens ~ had he imagined that flash of light that caught his eye? And the occasional snatches of babbling conversations, had he imagined those too? He shook his head and shambled off to the coffee machine, checking his watch. 4:44, only a little over three hours to go. As he reached for a polystyrene cup, something brushed past him, making what little hair he had left stand on end. He swung round, knocking the pile of cups onto the floor, but there was nothing to be seen. He bent down to pick them up, momentarily forgetting his creaky arthritic joints, and heard a dull thud followed by muffled giggles. Luigi froze, and then slowly turned in the direction of the sounds. A book was lying open on the floor in aisle 57.

                                      Viewing 20 results - 321 through 340 (of 504 total)