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  • #4552
    ÉricÉric
    Keymaster

      “It’s quiet here, don’t you think?” Godfrey was enjoying a moment, gazing through the Victorian windows of the silent mansion at the piglets running outside chased by Roberto.
      “Not in small parts thanks to Elizabeth Madam being abroad for a visit to her Uncle Bob.” Finley raised her nose off her wool balls, as she was indulging in a little knitting break from the cleaning duties by the fire.
      “God knows what it will bring though. I have an idea, she might come all shaken from so much family time.”
      “Certainly, no one wants to see her shaken though, we all remember too well the last… episode.” Finnley sighed.

      #4539

      Fox, layered in warm clothes, looked dubiously at the hellishcopter. He had assumed it was fantastic and awe inspiring creature from the underworld. But it wasn’t.

      “It’s a carpet with a circular wooden platform,” he said, feeling a bit disappointed. He noticed the steam that formed out of his mouth with every word and it made him feel cold despite the numerous layers around him.
      The carpet was floating limply above its shadow on the snow. It looked old and worn out by years of use. The reds blues and greens were dull and washed-out, and it was hard to tell apart the original motives from stains. Oddly enough it was clear of dust.

      “Not just a carpet, said Lhamom with her usual enthusiasm illuminating her face. It’s a magic carpet.” She wore that local coat of them which looked so thin compared to his multiple layers, but she had assured him it was warm enough for far worse temperatures. Steam was also coming out of her mouth when she talked.

      Fox was still not convinced. “And how fast does it go?”

      “Fast enough,” said Lhamom. “You’ll all be back in no time to the forest.”
      “Isn’t there a risk for the luggage to fall off? I don’t see any practical way to attach them.”
      “Oh! Sure,” retorted Lhamom with an amused look. “You won’t fall from the platform unless someone pushes you out.”
      Fox winced and gulped. His mind had showed him someone shaken by an uncontrollable movement and pushing him off the platform above the sharp mountain tops, and even if it his fantasy had no sound, it was not very reassuring.

      Lhamom looked at him sharply. “Are you afraid of heights?” she asked.
      Fox shrugged and looked away at Rukshan who was busy packing the camp with Olliver and their guide.
      “What if I am?” Fox said.
      “I have some pills,” she said, foraging in her numerous pockets. She brandished victoriously an old little wooden box that she opened and showed him brown pills that looked and smelled like they had been made by dung beetles.

      Rukshan had finished his packing and was approaching them with a messenger bag.
      “Don’t play with him too much, he said, in his current state Fox’s will swallow everything, except food.” Rukshan and Olliver laughed. Fox didn’t know what to make of it, feeling too exhausted to find clever retorts. Lhamom winked at him and put the pills back in her pocket.

      Rukshan put his hand on Fox’s shoulder. “We’re going home through a sand portal, he said giving putting a hand on his bag. I’ve gathered coloured sand from the different places we visited and Lhamom had brought some holy dripping water collected from the running nose of the lama headmaster of Pulmol Mountain when he last had a cold.”
      That sounded a little complicated to Fox and he didn’t try to make sense of it.
      “We’ll only go on the hellishcopter to fly throught the portal with all the stuff we collected. But I need time to make the sand portal, and from what you reported the dogs have said, we may only have little time available before that thing you have felt come to us.”

      Fox started. With his bowel adventures and Rukshan’s previous dismissal of the matter, Fox had forgotten about the odd presence he had smelled and that had seemed to preoccupy the hunting dogs at night.
      “What do you mean?” he asked, trying to not let worry crept back in his mind.
      “I first thought it was fantasies coming out of your imagination because of your poor health condition, but when I told Lhamom this morning she told me what it was.” Rukshan hesitated.
      “What? asked Fox, his heartbeat going faster.
      “Some kind of ancient spirit roaming through the mountain. It feeds of human flesh and is attracted by magic. It was liberated by an earthquake recently and it that Olliver and Tak felt. Up until now the dogs, who are the gardians of the mountains, were enough to ward it off for us despite the presence of the baby snoot. But now that Lhamom has brought the spoon and that I’m going to use magic for the portal, it may get bolder and the dogs will not be enough to stop it. Fortunately it only gets out at night, so we have ample enough time, Rukshan said cheerfully. Olliver also is exhausted and he can’t use his teleporting abilities for all of us. By using a sand portal I may even be able to lay a trap for the spirit when we leave, but I need to begin now and let’s pray the weather remains clear and windless.”

      It took some time for the meaning and the implications of flesh eating to sink into Fox’s mind. He looked nervously at the sky where it seemed a painter had splashed a few white strokes of clouds with his giant brush. Were they still or moving? Fox couldn’t tell. He looked back at Rukshan and Lhamom.
      “What can I do to help?”
      “I need you to explain the plan to the dogs so that they release the spirit when I give the signal.”

      #4501

      Granola allowed herself a few moments to bask in the glow of satisfaction. At least Lucinda had noticed the side bar suggestion she had implanted on the Face It web page, and had perused the ideas sufficiently to motivate her to try out one of the missions.

      “Invite a random stranger to join you,” it had said, “to join you for coffee in a nearby cafe, or invite them home for dinner, or to see a movie.” The page had included numerous other suggestions, but that was the gist. They did warn the reader that often, people were suspicious and expected a scam of some kind, and if the random stranger exhibited more that a token display of wary caution, to leave them with a cheery wave, and thank them for helping you to practice your confidence boosting exercises. Under normal circumstances, providing the level of fear and distrust wasn’t too high, this approach usually rendered the random stranger more amenable to an approach in future.

      In truth this wasn’t a difficult exercise for Lucinda, for she often spoke to random strangers and quite enjoyed it, although usually she didn’t extend that to personal invitations. But the Ask Aunt Idle Oracle had been droning on and on about interconnection being the primary factor in reducing signs of aging ~ yes, strange, but true: nothing to do with food or toxins or exercise after all ~ so the coincidence of Aunt Idle’s advice mirrored in the side bar suggestion registered sufficiently for Lucinda to actually remember it, and try it out on the bored looking fellow in the supermarket.

      Only hesitating slightly before extending his hand to grip hers in a surprisingly firm handshake, he responded: “I’m Jerk. Pleased to meet you.”

      Granola grinned from behind the pyramid of baked bean tins, and faded out of the scene. There was work to do on the side bar method for the next clue.

      Jerk’s eyes flickered over to the baked beans, registering the peripheral movement, just in time to see a disembodied foot wearing a red sandal vanish into the somewhat heavy air of the canned goods aisle.

      #4481
      TracyTracy
      Participant

        “In the pentatonic scale of things, one can only shake ones head kindly,” mumbled Liz, humming tunefully. “Of course, geotectonically speaking, “ she added, “Would be quite another matter, and could potentially result in considerably more shaking than an indulgent platonic head.”

        #4403
        F LoveF Love
        Participant

          random plot generator

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

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

          ALBIE
          Please Jenny, don’t leave me.

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

          ALBIE
          I am such a person!

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

          JENNY leaves and ALBIE sits down, looking defeated.

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

          ALBIE
          Goodness, Matt! Is everything okay?

          MATT
          I’m afraid not.

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

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

          ALBIE
          Defenseless elderly ladies?

          MATT
          Yes, defenseless elderly ladies!

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

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

          ALBIE
          You can start by telling me where this happened.

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

          ALBIE
          Focus Matt, focus! Where did it happen?

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

          ALBIE springs up and begins to run.

          EXT. A ROADCONTINUOUS

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

          INT. A LIBRARYSHORTLY AFTER

          ROGER BLUNDER a forgetful hooligan terrorises two elderly ladies.

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

          MATT
          What is is? What’s the matter?

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

          MATT
          Who’s Roger Blunder?

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

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

          ALBIE
          You can say that again.

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

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

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

          ROGER
          Albie Jones, we meet again!

          MATT
          You’ve met?

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

          EXT. A PARKBACK IN TIME

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

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

          ROGER
          Would you like some wine gums?

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

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

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

          ALBIE
          Wait, you’re a hooligan?

          ALBIE runs away, screaming.

          INT. A LIBRARYPRESENT DAY

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

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

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

          He turns back and shouts.

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

          ROGER
          I’m not scared of you.

          ALBIE
          You should be.

          INT. A SWEET SHOPLATER THAT DAY

          ALBIE and MATT walk around searching for something.

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

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

          ALBIE
          You know nothing Matt Humble.

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

          Suddenly, ROGER appears, holding a pair of candlesticks.

          ROGER
          Looking for something?

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

          ALBIE
          Tell me something I don’t already know!

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

          ALBIE
          I know that already!

          MATT
          I’m afraid of dust.

          ROGER
          (appalled) Dude!

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

          ALBIE
          Prepare to die, you forgetful aubergine!

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

          JENNY enters, unseen by any of the others.

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

          ROGER
          Don’t hurt me! Please!

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

          ROGER
          Because Albie, I am your father.

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

          ALBIE
          No you’re not!

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

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

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

          Unexpectedly, ROGER slumps to the ground.

          MATT
          Did he just faint?

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

          ALBIE crouches over ROGER’s body.

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

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

          ALBIE
          What?

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

          MATT claps his hands.

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

          JENNY steps forward.

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

          ALBIE
          Jenny how long have you been…?

          JENNY puts her arm around ALBIE.

          JENNY
          Long enough.

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

          JENNY
          Then the elderly ladies are safe?

          ALBIE
          It does seem that way!

          A crowd of vulnerable elderly ladies enter, looking relived.

          JENNY
          You are their hero.

          The elderly ladies bow to ALBIE.

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

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

          One of the elderly ladies passes ALBIE a healing ring

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

          ALBIE
          I couldn’t possibly.
          Pause.

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

          ALBIE takes the ring.

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

          ALBIE turns to JENNY.

          ALBIE
          Does this mean you want me back?

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

          ALBIE
          Well you can’t have me.

          JENNY
          WHAT?

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

          JENNY
          But…

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

          MATT grins.

          JENNY
          But…

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

          JENNY
          Albie?

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

          MATT turns to ALBIE.

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

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

          Suddenly MATT stops.

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

          #4340

          Eleri’s eyes began to feel heavy and she blinked, trying to resist the increasingly strong urge to nod off to sleep, as a gust of wind rustled the branches overhead allowing the moonlight to illuminate something that looked very much like dragon scales. Eleri blinked again and shook her head slightly to shake the illusion back into some kind of realistic image. The sudden wind had dropped and the trees were motionless, the path below them dark. It was impossible now to even see what had looked like dragon scales in the brief flash of moonlight. All was still and silent.

          With nothing to see in the darkness and nothing to entertain her, Eleri’s mind started to wander, wondering if her grandmother being a dragon (as her father had often said) meant that she was one quarter dragon herself. It occurred to her that she very rarely thought of the dragon that was her grandmother, and wondered why she was thinking of her now. She had been a strong woman, who would fight tooth and nail to get what she wanted, always on the move wanting to get her teeth into a new project, leaving discarded suitors along the wayside as she swept along, grandly announcing to all and sundry, “Do you know who I am?”

          Formidable armed with a rigid crocodile (possibly baby dragon skin) handbag and matching shoes, stately and considerably girthy notwithstanding the stiff corset, her grandmother was not one to easily ignore. Dressed in dragon scale twinsets, in no nonsense crimplene navy blue and white, many were quite charmed by her forthright manner and the spirited ~ some would say arrogant ~ toss of her peroxide lacquered waves. Others were not so enchanted, and found her imperious manner unpleasant.

          It was a simple matter of teeth, when it came to disabling her. The difference was remarkable. There was no actual reason why her lack of teeth should change her so ~ she still had the matching shoes and handbags, but the regal stance and the arrogant tilt of her chin was gone. Not having any teeth made her seem shy and evasive, and she mumbled, saying as little as possible. She lost the power of manipulation along with her teeth, and although nobody really understood why, many wished they had thought of hiding her teeth years ago. It was such a simple solution, in the scale of things.

          And the moral of that story is, Eleri concluded with a wry but not too dentally challenged smile, Toothless Dragons Don’t Bite.

          #4298

          He took the road again not much later after a light breakfast.

          The potion hadn’t seemed to bring about immediate noticeable changes. It told Rukshan something about its maker, who was versed enough in potions to create gradual (and likely durable) effects. Every experienced potion maker knew that the most potent potions were the ones that took time, and worked with the drinker’s inner magic instead of against its own nature. The flashy potions that made drastic changes in nature were either destructive, or fleeting as a bograt’s fart in the spring breeze.
          If anything, it did give him a welcome warmth in the chest, and a lightness on his back and shoulders.

          The Faes had been generous with him, and he had food enough for a few days. Generous may not have been the right word… eager to see him scamper away was more likely.

          Enhanced by the potion’s warmth, the Queen’s words were starting to shake some remembrance back to him, melting away a deep crust of memories he had forgotten somehow, pushing against the snow like promises of crocuses in spring. The core of the Dragon Heartswood was very close now, a most sacrosanct place.
          Faes were only living at the fringe, where life and magic flew, running like the sap of an old tree, close to the bark.
          Inside was darker, harder to get to. Some said it was where life and death met, the birthplace of the Old Gods and of their Dragons guardians before the Sundering.

          His initial plan was to go around it, safe in Fae territory, but after the past days, and the relentless menace of the hungry ghosts on his trail, he had to take risks, and draw them away from his kin.
          The warmth in his heart was getting warmer, and he felt encouraged to move forth in his plan. He gave a last look at the mountain range in the distance before stepping into the black and white thickets of austere trees.

          #4274

          “More bones?” asked Yorath, smiling, as Eleri caught up with him on the forest path.

          “I ask you, why is it,” she asked, leaning against a tree to catch her breath, “Why is it that we collect bones to make a complete one, but never go back to the same place for bones?”

          Yorath paused and turned, raising an eyebrow.

          “Never mind, don’t answer that, that’s not what I’m getting at ~ not now anyway ~ I just remembered something, Yorath.”

          He waited expectantly for her to continue, but she didn’t reply. He mouth had dropped open as she gazed vacantly into the middle distance, slightly cross eyed and wonder struck.

          “You were saying?” he prompted gently.

          Her attention returned and she grabbed his arm and pointed down towards the lowlands. “Look! Down there,” she said, giving his elbow a shake. “It was down there when I was a child and it was that one day in spring and I saw it. I know I did. They all said I read the story first and then imagined it, but it was the other way round.” Noticing her friends unspoken suggestion that she slow down and clarify, Eleri paused and took a few deep breaths.

          “I’d sort of half forgotten about it,” Eleri laughed. “But suddenly it all makes sense. There is a legend,” she explained, “that on one day of the year in spring all the things that were turned to stone to hide them came to life, just for the day. One of my earliest memories, we were out for a picnic in the hills on the other side of the valley and everyone had fallen asleep on rugs on the grass, and I wandered off. I was four years old, maybe five. You know when you see a rock that looks like a face, or a tree that looks like an animal or a person? Well on this one day of the year, according to the legend, they all come back to life ~ even the clouds that look like whales and birds. And it’s true, you see, Yorath. Because I’ve seen it.”

          “I’ve heard of it, and the tree that guards it all comes to life, did you see her?”

          “Yes. And she said something to me, but I don’t remember what the words were. I knew she said something, but I didn’t know what.”

          #4156

          In reply to: Coma Cameleon

          rmkreeg
          Participant

            “Aaron!” his focus snapped. Was he day dreaming?

            As he came to the door, he looked at his suit in the mirror. It was keen, with straight lines and not a wave or wrinkle to be found. It was the epitome of structure and order.

            He hated it.

            He hated the way it felt. He hated the properness that came with it. He hated the lie.

            In the next moment, he began to shake off the prissiness. It felt as if he could wriggle out of it, loosen up a little. And as he stood there, shaking his hands and feet, trying to get the funk off him, the suit shook off, too. It fell to the floor in pieces as though it were the very manifestation of inhibition.

            As he stood there, in front of the mirror and half naked, a low murmur came up from his stomach. It was an uneasiness, a call to action, a desire to move…but he had no idea what for or why. It welled up in him and he became anxious without the slightest clue as to what he was going through. Frankly enough, it scared him.

            “AARON!”

            The voice was a part of him and there was nothing but himself staring at himself. Everything seemed to become more and more energized. It felt like he extended beyond the limit of his skin, like water in a balloon trying to push outward.

            Were it not for his containment, there was a very real possibility that he might just completely leap out of his skin and bones. He felt that, given a small slip in concentration, he’d be liable to explode headlong into the atmosphere with the vigor of a superhero on poorly made bath salts.

            His heart raced. He could feel it beating in his chest. He could feel it beating all over. What was happening? Where was he?

            He looked back at his surroundings and found himself sitting behind a tattered cloth spread with sunglasses and watches…and his suitcase?

            #3840

            Al’s gone too far this time, TinaBecky said, perusing the latest installment of the Reality Play. “He’s just adding old characters willy nilly now!”

            Tina just looked at Becky for a moment before replying quietly, “Isn’t that the point?”

            Gripping Tina’s shoulder firmly and giving her a little shake, Becky continued, “It’s getting serious, Tina, can’t you see the danger we’re in? Fictional characters are coming to life all over the planet, demanding birth certificates and passports and refugee status. Insisting on continuation, more detailed back stories; some are even demanding therapy for what the authors have put them through!”

            Tina looked shocked. “Is it really as serious as that?” she asked. “I had heard about it, but, well, I didn’t like to think too much about it…” her voice trailed off, hoping that Becky would drop the subject so she didn’t have to think about it any more.

            “It’s the Imagination Wave, Tina. We’ve never really understood Imagination or how to use it. During this wave, we’re going to find out, and it’s going to be messy, believe me! It’s not just the characters we’ve made up, it’s the land mass. Characters are looking for their lands, demanding compensation for missing islands…”

            “What are we going to do?” Tina whispered dramatically. “We’ve been churning out characters and littering changed landscapes with them and then just leaving them stranded, for nine years!”

            “And we can’t even get away from them all if we flew to Mars, either,” added Al, who had been eavesdropping from behind the door. He joined them and pulled up a chair. “Seriously, girls, we need a plan. This is our most important mission of all.”

            “Should we kill them all off?” asked Becky, wincing as she said it. “I didn’t mean that!” she added hastily.

            “Oh, you don’t want to do that!” Al replied quickly. “Some authors have done that and have been haunted by dead characters something awful! Dead characters are a worse nightmare than characters coming to life, believe me!”

            “Well I didn’t really mean it,” Becky said sheepishly.

            “Let’s ask Sam,” said Tina.

            #3526
            TracyTracy
            Participant

              Another bang on my bedroom door, my hands suspended over the keyboard. “Go away Prune!” I shouted, exasperated. “If you bang on my door again, I’ll come out and give you such a wallop, now bugger off, will you!”

              “It’s me, Corrie” came Clove’s voice. Walked over to the door and unlocked it. A chat with my sister might help me with this project. Unlike Prune, who would be guaranteed to disrupt my train of thought.

              Locking the door again I tell Clove what I’m writing about. We don’t go to school, me and Clove, we’re what they call “homeschooled” but what that actually means in our case is that we’re left to our own devices most of the time. Aunt Idle asks us (when she remembers) what we’ve been working on, and as long as we’ve been writing something or researching something, she’s happy.

              So when I saw the group project about alternative timelines to avoid the disaster timeline, I had some ideas. Well, to be honest, I didn’t have any definite ideas until I saw the other suggestions. All Americans, and all of them talking about changing the timelines by changing the results of presidential elections!

              “Not much chance of a different timeline there then!” remarked Clove astutely.

              “Exactly!” I knew Clove would get it, she knows were I’m coming from, but then, everyone knows twins are like that.

              “So this is what the plan is, right: “The goal of this exercise is to discuss amongst the group and choose significant past moments, and then As a Group, focus on creating alternate histories, thus sparking alternate timelines. We should vividly imagine moving forward from those probability forks and creating a more viable and desirable future.” Oh, and this bit here: “ our current timeline is convoluted to the point where many probabilities are leaning towards a disaster scenario simply to shake out of the current focus.” And then all these suggestions about different presidents, and then this: “My suggestion would be also to consider how we would like our current time frame to appear,” so I’m thinking…”

              “I’m thinking” interrupted Clove, continuing my train of thought, “Of all those states and communities that got with the programme ten years ago, and took their kids out of school and built those Earthships so they didn’t need money for water and electricity..”

              “And started cooperative worker owned businesses like they do in South America….”

              “And they all started a guaranteed basic income years ago, so everyone was doing what they did best, especially the kids, cos they had such great ideas and weren’t stuck in boring schoolrooms…..”

              “and there was no poverty, and nobody without a home…”

              “Yeah, and they all stopped paying taxes so there was no money for the military, and then loads more people stopped paying taxes too…”

              “Good one, Clove!”

              “So nobody gave a fuck what president was elected anyway, because they were all sorting themselves out, and those states and communities were doing so well…”

              “Because they’d already been doing it for years” I added.

              “…that other states and communities started doing it too.”

              “So that it snowballed, like dominoes, and there were more and more of these places..”

              “And they had exchange students and stuff like that to learn from each other, and shared stuff online..”

              “So when the disasters struck, it wasn’t half so bad because there were already a bunch of people managing perfectly well without dollars or oil, and they could help the people in the disaster. Makes more sense that electing another blimmin president, huh?”

              “Bloody obvious if you ask me” replied Clove. “Pity we don’t have basic income, did you see Mater’s face when she was talking to that debt collector?”

              That made me laugh, remembering her waving the stick around. “Her face was as purple as her cardigan.”

              In unison, we both starting singing Start Wearing Purple and dancing around, acting the fool. I had a purple wig hanging on the back of my chair, so I put that on, and Clove grabbed a purple feather boa off the coat stand. No shortage of wigs in this town, though god only knows why. Just about every damn trunk in every empty house is full of wigs.

              #3444

              In an effort to shake off the troubling feelings that lingered long after she awoke, Mirabelle went to find Jack to tell him about her dream. She found him hunched over his computer, frowning.
              “Ah, Mirabelle, pull up a chair and let me tell you about the strange dream I had last night.”
              Intrigued, Mirabelle listened, saving her story until after he had finished relating his.
              “There are too many coincidences for this to not mean something ~ something important. The parallels are everywhere! Look!” he said pointing to the screen.
              “Crumbling cities, structures smashed to smithereens and clouds of dust, facades of houses blown off revealing ordinary objects and furnishings in hideous juxtapositions, and crazy angles. And look here” he said, “ nothing as far as the eye can see but rubble, but one wall left standing, almost intact, with the map still hanging on the wall.”
              Jack turned to Lisa with a tear in his eye, and with a shaking voice he said, “I dreamed of a city like this last night, with all the facades blown off the constructs, and all the people were faceless as if they were wearing masks, but no! not like masks, there were empty holes where the faces had been, like bottomless black holes that made me dizzy to look at them.”
              “But it was just a dream Jack” replied Mirabelle, wondering if she was reassuring Jack or herself. “It doesn’t mean anything, probably that cheese you had for supper.”
              Lisa was in the dream” Jack replied. “And Ivan, and Fanella.”
              Mirabelle shivered. “They’ve been gone a long time, do you think something’s happened to them?” she paused and then added, “I had a disturbing dream too. It was my parrot, HuHu. He was calling me, oh! he was calling and calling, but I couldn’t see him in the fog, as I tried to follow the sound of his squalking in the swirling mist, I’d hear him behind me ~ no matter which way I turned he was always behind me, as if I was always facing the wrong way.”
              “Well” said Jack, squaring his shoulders. “Faced with these two dreams, and with the delayed return of Lisa, Ivan and Fanella, I think we should face up to it and send a search party to the island. Now, enough of that long face, Mirabelle! Run along now and find Igor, and tell him to prepare for teleporting. He can go with you.”

              #3333

              Jeremy didn’t understand what “sorry about the Chinese” meant when Sanso and his near naked woman friend had left.
              For one, it was a bit traumatizing to see them shrink again in the fat ugly mess of a cloth that was supposed to look vaguely like a doll of sorts, then disappear inside the map he’d been drawing for them.

              He looked at the map. A precious detailed map of an island, he’d been encouraged to draw for them. As usual he danced in a trance to make it, holding a cucumber in his hand as an anchor, the loon guy had said.
              Frankly, why he’d went along with their nonsense was now a bit beyond him. Probably seeing them getting out of Max had shaken his believability limit to a new level.

              The map was beautiful, drawn in fine green isopleths ; looking like the finest intaglio printing he’d ever seen that seemed to shift and move in gorgeous optical illusion patterns. He couldn’t bring himself to destroy it, as he’d promised them.

              There was a light knock on the door.
              When he saw the man’s face with his round sunglasses though the peephole, it dawned on him what Sanso had meant with his cryptic “sorry about the Chinese”, and Jeremy already regretted, too late, not having destroyed the map.

              #3331

              “I’m so booooored” Amar sighed, after his eleventh 5-minute break of the morning was over.
              He looked at his polished nails, then at his two companions.
              “It’s so clean we could eat on that damn sewer’s floor, you should stop cleaning! Come on!”

              Reginald looked at him with pursed lips and a fist firmly planted on his hips “And, you are suggesting somethin’, or are you just going to rub it in some more?”

              “Hell yeah, if we’re going to be stuck here, we could redecorate, and make this place a bit more interesting. I’m thinking an underground club, with art deco sculptures and some bit of goth in the back, a stage with fat pole dancers, a disco ball and silver shimmer metallic glowing paint,… Don’t get me started!”

              “Sounds like a lot of work…” Reginald replied after a moment, giving no hint he was buying it.
              “But then, we ain’t got much to do, and I’ll be dying of boredom if we don’t shake this thing up. Count me in!”

              #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?”

              #3284
              TracyTracy
              Participant

                Pooh
                – An Original Song
                by Consuela
                I get on with life as a writer,
                I’m a loose kinda person.
                I like basketball on Sundays,
                I like diving in the week.
                I like to contemplate scooter.
                But when I start to daydream,
                My mind turns straight to exercise mat.

                Boom boom shake da boom-boom-boom!

                Do I love exercise mat more than scooter?
                Do I love exercise mat more than scooter?
                I like to use words like ‘pooh,’
                I like to use words like ‘tart.’
                I like to use words about scooter.
                But when I stop my talking,
                My mind turns straight to exercise mat.

                Boom boom shake da boom-boom-boom!

                Do I love exercise mat more than scooter?
                Do I love exercise mat more than scooter?

                I like to hang out with Godfrey,
                I like to kick back with Flove,
                But when left alone,
                My mind turns straight to exercise mat.

                Boom boom shake da boom-boom-boom!

                Do I love exercise mat more than scooter?
                Do I love exercise mat more than scooter?

                I’m not too fond of italian bank,
                I really hate germans,
                But I just think back to exercise mat,
                And I’m happy once again

                Boom boom shake da boom-boom-boom!

                #3022
                Jib
                Participant

                  “And now, breathe in, a little bit more… and let it out.”

                  Amanda didn’t think it possible for her chest to expand more than it already had. She swayed her body, hoping that maybe it would allow more air in. It was useless, she had the impression she had lost some air. Perhaps she shouldn’t breath too deeply when Johnette… no, when the goddess speaking through Johnette asks them to breathe in.

                  She had been introduced to Johnette and the Goddess of the Antic Earth by her friend Mona, whom she hadn’t seen in years and when she fall upon her the other day, she convinced Amanda to come to the Earth Circle Group and try the meditation “because it is so fun”. But Mona didn’t come to the circle the first time, and she hadn’t come either this time. Amanda didn’t know why she came back, she hadn’t felt anything the first time. But they had asked her if she was coming to the next meeting, and she couldn’t say no.

                  “Allow the divine breath of the goddess to fill your mind and your body with its pranic power of sustentation. And take another deep breath.”

                  And there, she had been thinking again, she had lost the rythm. She managed to exale silently with a few contortion of her body and caught up the group with shorter and shallower movements of her chest. It was exhausting.
                  “It’s only been the second time”, she reminded herself. No need to tell that she wasn’t feeling at all the effects of the pranic power of sustentation. Her body was more tense after the sessions. And the worst was her disappointment when all the others would talk about the wonderful experiences with the goddess and her angels. Johnette had told her it would come, and that she needn’t worry. She had to be free of her expectations and certainly not compare herself to the others.

                  The group was composed only of women. Except Norman, but he didn’t count. He was with Bianca. Amanda was sure that she had a wonderbra. She couldn’t have such a perfect breast at her age. And she didn’t seem the kind to have her breast reconfigured. She chuckled at the idea.

                  “Ahem.”

                  Amanda winced. Johnette was frowning. Or was it the Goddess. The idea gave Amanda the creeps.

                  “Now; clear your mind, my friends, for the next location will be revealed.”

                  Amanda had no idea what the Goddess was talking about. But according to the loud whispers, the others knew, and were expecting it. She noticed that the Goddess wasn’t frowning and caught a fleeting smile.
                  Johnette’s body began to shake and the most disturbing whale sound filled up the room.

                  “Sorry,” said Bianca, “wrong CD”.

                  #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.

                    #2977
                    Jib
                    Participant

                      The taser was a long range and when Mari Fe threw it away, it inadvertantly triggered the mechanism. The waiter was at that moment bringing a big plate of very hot soup to the table near Elza’s and was shocked. His body was shaken and Elza watched the soup making an odd design before splashing upon the table just behind her. She took advantage of the confusion to sneak out of the restaurant without paying the bill.

                      #2793
                      ÉricÉric
                      Keymaster

                        (#1702)

                        Becky had shaken the last dead becky in huge letters.
                        Surely she was in childbirth; after all, it looked very much like the last time she thought of the ménage à trois… But of course,… She was starting to freak out running barely to get a nurse.

                        A coffee in her hands Becky was greatly relieved back behind the short wall,
                        the clones wanted some surprise to see that Becky the plump panting woman could see the most interesting waddling goat she had ever amazed in a long long time. How entertaining.

                        “Beh, don’t be fooled.” the goat answered with a mysterious smile

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