Search Results for 'ship'

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  • #3282
    F LoveF Love
    Participant

      Livy and Me
      – a suspense novel
      by Flove

      “I’m going to need expensive Italian real estate, big, expensive Italian real estate.”

      He had not known love or loss until he risked losing his brave basket ball player Livvy.

      His contented life is shattered when he learns that the lazy Dead Kennedys plan to bankrupt Livvy and he knows he has to stop them or his heart will die.

      At 40, the Exercise Mat Salesman from Belgium is both delightful and friendly. But will it be enough to protect Livvy?

      He goes to a Basket ball tournament in Hawaii where he acquires some expensive Italian real estate and Scooters. It finally seems that he will be able to stop the Dead Kennedys that wish to bankrupt Livvy.

      However, when Livvy calls, begging him to come home, he is forced to decide what is more important: stopping the lazy Dead Kennedys that bankrupting each other, or preserving his relationship with his basket ball player?

      Flove delivers a brave and poignant story that explores the love between a Exercise Mat Salesman and his basket ball player.

      “Never have there been more chilling villains than lazy Dead Kennedys that bankrupt each other.”
      – The Daily Tale
      “Are we seriously supposed to find a delightful and friendly Exercise Mat Salesman from Belgium heroic?”

      #3239

      The door creaked open and a shy Igor entered with a big rainbow conch.
      Mirabelle, I have come back for you!”

      Igor! How, what …” Mirabelle and Adeline gasped, lost for words.

      “I jumped overboard the ship after I stole this miraculous conch and swam back…”

      Before he could say the rest, Adeline jumped on her feet and slapped his face.
      Then Mirabelle’s turn, three times.

      The door creaked close like a laughing seagull.

      #3237

      Mirabelle, I have come back for you!”

      Igor! How, what …” Mirabelle gasped, lost for words.

      “I jumped overboard the ship and swam back. Sure, you are a bossy tart, but you look so hot when you put that birdcage on your head.”

      Mirabelle reddened. *“Ebanashka!” she cried, slapping his face.

      *crazy person in Russian

      #3236

      Belen quickly found out there was something amiss in the usual navigational patterns from her tile guidance system.

      Her initial plotted course to jump from Bay of Biscay 1757 to Hawai’i 2222 was almost whale calf’s play. Relying on the tiles beacons, it was easy for her to hone to an intermediate time, at the same location, from where it would be easier to navigate the ghost whaling boat. 2222 customs clearance was always a bother, as soon as human had started to time-travel, they had put unnecessary barriers around some key timezones such as this one.

      Her favourite stopover was on the other side of Galicia on the Mediterranean coast del Sol 2020, but then…

      Peetee Pois as Peter was affectionately called by Belen was the first to notice the sails of Барк Крузенштерн, the Krusenshtern swollen by the wind, seconds before they came crashing onto it, launching all the birds in a massive flock around the town that the tall ship had just left (coincidentally with Igor on board as one of the newest recruits of the Russian sail training ship).

      :fleuron:

      Lisa was still arguing with Adeline in broken Spanglish when they noticed the flock of birds at the horizon.
      — Something’s happening on the beach, Lisa snapped, quick let’s go have a look.

      #3232
      F LoveF Love
      Participant

        Queens Team and 2121 originated time-travellers

        Reginald / Maurana Banana
        Cedric / Consuela Winnie
        Amar / Terry Bubble
        Sadie Merrie
        Linda Paul

        Supporting team

        Pseu, Maria del Mar, Janice (from the City, around 2257)
        Sanso (from other dimension, multi-dimensional travel contractor)
        Frindle, Trumble, Jingle (fuck knows who they are)
        the Hawai’i techromancer

        Management team (around 2222 and later)

        Irina, mermaid Russian spy and parrot whisperer

        Jonbert, the orchestrator of the time-travelling arcs, wanting to retrieve key information from St Germain which were collected in 1757. En route back to 2222 to intercept the whales’ crystal with help from Linda Paul’s team, and his luxury submarine

        1757 King’s Versailles

        The Queen
        Madame de Pompadour
        her maid Nicole du Hausset, coming from a line of time-smugglers
        Mr Aliette the wigmaker and finger reader
        Count de St Germain
        Giacomo Casanova (pseudonyms Monsieur de St Galle / Jacques de Seingalt)
        Father Balbi, Casanova’s travelling companion
        Theater du Soleil actors (Lison Tailleur, Jean Pastisse, Geoffroy du Limon, Francette Fine)
        Robert-Francois Damiens, the assassim
        Jean-Pierre Duroy, the Grand Intendant, his wife the Pastry Chef Annie
        Cook and Helper
        ghost of Marguerite Isabeau

        The 1757 originated time-travellers

        Mirabelle the oldest and bossiest, Adeline the youngest (thief of the first ferret) and Fanetta, the French maids
        Igor Popinkin, Boris and Ivan the Russian con-artists and saboteurs hidden with the Russian Ballet troupe visiting Versailles
        Huhu the parrot
        The Whale ghost, the ghost ship (died/sunk around 1600s) and time-travelling fin whales of 2020s
        Belen, the whale
        Santa Rosa, the galleon
        the ghost obese gardener-captain Peter Pugh Petit Pois, from Peasland

        The Spanish farm and fat mermaid dolphins

        Lisa, Jack
        Pierre and Etienne
        The Italian cruise ship
        pink Amazonian dolphins

        #3230

        The ghost captain of the Santa Rosa was an old Peaslander, Peter Pugh, otherwise known as Petit Pois on account of his vast girth. He’d had a fascination with whales all his life, admiring their immensity and smooth shapelessness, and had devoted his life to increasing his own blubber ~ unfortunately to the point where his legs failed to carry him further and he died, alone and frozen, on a cold winter Peasland beach. A particularly wild storm with immense waves had sucked him out to sea, taking most of the beach with him, but his spirit lived on, piloting the galleon for his ghostly lover, Belen. It was a match made in heaven ~ in their ghostly forms, they were vast but weightless, able to occupy the galleon fully, filling every nook and mossy cranny with their energetic formless bulk (but without sinking the ship or flattening the foliage).
        “Whale that!” he cried in response to Belen, excited to be teleporting to the balmy waters of the Pacific. The rough harsh climate of the Bay of Biscay reminded him of that cold winter in Peasland ~ he was looking forward to a tropical sojourn.
        “To the Big Island!” he shouted, and did a merry jig which caused a tsunami a few hours later on the Galician coast.

        #3229

        It was said long ago that the role of the parrot is that of opening communication centers. When this totem appears, one should look to see if one needs assistance in understanding views that are different from one’s own.
        Huhu didn’t care about any of these human assigned meanings to its existence.

        When the grip of Irina’s mind over Huhu the parrot was suddenly released, it found itself out of sight of the floating balloon and struggled to glide over the oceans’ air currents without losing too much altitude as well as precious degrees.

        The air was cold and the ocean had no end in sight, and if a parrot knew despair, Huhu would have succumbed to it already. But it was a brave parrot, as though inhabited by some divine spark, and it continued bravely, only guided by his senses.

        When it was about to faint from exhaustion, and dive dangerously close to the sea, was the precise moment when it noticed fumes swirling around in strange vortices erupting from the sea.
        A strange boat appeared at the surface with a shining light.

        Little did Huhu know, but it was the ghost galleon Santa Rosa which had a special thing for birds in distress, and would appear at times of need, a haven of luxuriant foliage and birds cackle, a benediction of safety in the turmoil of the seas.

        Nobody knew clearly when the galleon sunk, one of the last of his kinds in the Old Continent, probably around the early 1111s, but one thing was sure, it was a ghost ship long before Huhu was born and brought to Versailles in 1757.

        A ghostly form picked his soft body from the ground, delicately removing the key entangled on its foot, then placed the bird with great care on a bed of moss.

        We can go now Belen said the man to the whale captain of the ghost ship.
        Whale that! came the answer.

        #3219
        TracyTracy
        Participant

          “Over there” shouted Allegra. “Mama Mia! Did you see that?”
          Her inebriated friends lurched to the railings of the cruise ship deck. The sea was like a sheet of molten gold in the light of the full moon, and the ripples from the waterspouts had left enormous interconnecting circles on the waters surface.
          “What the…”
          A moment after the flumes, the dolphins breached; glowing pink and draped in the voluminous skirts of the maids, they were an extraordinary sight.
          “They’re mermaids!” said Alma in astonishment, “Obese mermaids! I’ve never seen such fat mermaids, well not on this side of the Atlantic, anyway.”

          #3217

          On the cruise ship, an inebriated crew of hundreds of rich Italian tourists were popping Brachetto bottles of sparkling wine and having the time of their lives.
          The cruise was organized by a section of the Happiness Bureau to provide strange sightings and spiritual encounters à la mode.
          They had to resort to the sparking wine as to keep the excitement at its peek.

          The Management at the helm was holding its breath scanning the horizon for bleedthrough signs of the famed ghost ship.

          #3203
          TracyTracy
          Participant

            Whale time travel reached an unprecedented level of popularity in the 2020s. Whales were quicker to learn the skills needed than their human counterparts, less constrained by belief constructs and generally more relaxed and fun loving, less hidebound with responsibilities and worries. There were accidents of course ~ some accidentally teleported onto land, as in the case of the many “beached” cetaceans, humans mistakenly assuming that their swimming techniques had been faulty. Another common misconception was that whales spotted in waters that they normally did not frequent had been swimming off course, for reasons unknown but generally assumed to be because of pollution, radiation or underwater sonic disturbances related to the military. It was true that sometimes these factors were a motivating aspect, but primarily whales teleported and time traveled for the sheer fun of it. Time traveling back to times and places where whaling ships dominated the oceans was considered to be a sport for the dare devils and thrill seekers; time travelling to the future for those more interested in a relaxing holiday. Some whales had a particular interest in archeology ~ shipwrecks and underwater cities and so on, but the dates of arrival had to be timed correctly, as underwater cities were not always under water and a miscalculation could result in a stranding on land in the middle of a town square or atop a pyramid. Many an ancient legend of monstrous other worldly beings had arisen from such a faux pas.
            Whale teleport practice portals had sprung up all over the seas in response to the increasing demand from young up and coming whales eager to try their fins at the new pursuit. Most of them were static, and related to land mass locations, such as the waters between the Pillars of Hercules at the western mouth of the Mediterranean, or the area offshore from the Hercules Tower on the Galician coast. In fact, the whales surrounding the shores of Spain had been at the forefront of the explorations, and these two portals were well established.

            #3194
            TracyTracy
            Participant

              The ghost galleon Santa Rosa had been sailing the eight seas for many a long century, dust, wind borne particles and bird droppings, richly fertile and full of seeds, accumulating on the decks. Dried beans and grains in the crews provisions had sprouted and grown, and reseeded, and migrating birds had rested their wings many a time and replenished the fine growing compost on the galleons surfaces, depositing varieties of seeds from many a far land. The Santa Rosa was more of a floating garden than a decaying hulk, and the roots of the fruit trees wound elegantly around the skeletons of the long dead Basques in the hold (a sort of Basque bone corset for supporting whale ships flora). Birds had been the only visitors aboard the galleon, and the energy of Rose was strong, nurturing and supporting the prolific vegetation.

              #3193

              Although Basque whaling had been in decline for some years (which is not to say that whalebone basques had declined in popularity), the Santa Rosa whaling galleon had been patrolling the waters of the Bay of Biscay for almost 600 years, a ghost ship, navigated by the ghost of the last whale killed by her crew. Her name was Belen, although nobody knew that was her name. At the moment of her death she had had a premonition, a knowing of a far distant future when whales began the extraordinary pursuit of compiling lists of all their other lives. One in particular, Maria del Mar, a fin whale in the Gibraltar waters of the early part of the 21st century, had connected with her. Maria del Mar had a special interest in time travel, and urged Belen to occupy the ghost ship and keep it afloat as a practice portal for whale teleporting.

              #3189

              2222 had been hailed the pinnacle of human development (that is, until 3333 was at reach), which prompted a whole Time Tourism business during this year.
              It required a lot of finicky logistics, as to ensure a stable sustaining of this particular year and avoid predatory behaviour which could potentially lead to the collapse of the future as it was known —a matter which in most cases wouldn’t be given two figs about, but which here, could have dramatic repercussions on the ITBC (International Time Bank Conundrum) itself.
              As a matter of fact, it wasn’t before 2255 that Elbert Twostains elaborated the first working version of his Unified Theory of Time Puddles, hence ushering humanity into a bright future, and past, and present, where and when nothing would ever be the same again.
              As such, there quickly was an embargo declared by the ITBC on any close relationship and ancestor, and connected people which could lead to a disruption of their juicy business.
              Apart from these minor restrictions which were for the good people’s own good, a lot was actually possible and allowed. Some maverick travellers used to vocally resent and disapprove of those restriction, but mostly because they thought the theory would have been discovered anyway, Elbert or not, and secretly because they enjoyed beating the drums of the restrictions (which restrictions tended to get quite restricted themselves past 2222).

              Jonbert Dirk had made a fortune as a Time Tourism moghul, or so the official story went. Truth be told, much of his fortune was amassed thanks to time smuggling and past treasures plundering and reselling on the black market of antiques. Let’s not be hasty to judge the old man though, It was a tricky business back then, to find the proper time to retrieve a given antique so that your precious item didn’t look like the cheap porcelain fresh out a sweatshop in Sina.

              By 2233, he was a multi bullionaire (billionaire in gold bars, as gold was needed to time-travel, it was an even more precious commodity than before), and had outlets with his brand all over the places and times.
              Like the rich men of the past who had themselves built splendid yachts big as cities, he was of more modest and practical tastes, but not insensitive to the display of power this offered. So he had himself built a spacious submarine richly decorated and equipped with the last generation of TTEs (Time Travelling Engine). Over time, he’d found the use of a submarine much easier to conceal during his time travels, and like a Captain Nemo of the future, enjoyed the luxury of whale watching and underwater symphonies while sipping his caipirinha in the pool of his submarine.

              Few people knew how to contact him, so it was with some surprise that he’d received the request for genetically enhanced pacific frogs. Belligerent frogs were all the fad in last century, but this century had a soft spot for the smaller, and more resilient pacific singing frogs.
              A man of his immense resources was definitely the way to go if you needed such rare and exotic species delivered to you in short notice.
              He was in a good mood today, so he signaled the order to the central computer.
              As the batch was dispatched, he smiled wryly, thinking he had waited for the inquirer to be indebted to him for quite some time. Shrinking old was a mean business, and he had not amassed enough gold to jump past 3333, where life everlasting was discovered. He was certain this curious and elusive fellow would be in position to help.

              #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.”

                #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?

                  #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.

                    #2992

                    In reply to: Scrying the Word Cloud

                    ÉricÉric
                    Keymaster

                      ship janet added buns gone godfrey
                      herself sue pinterest loved silly black photos
                      elves teapot give continued secret plan guy thinking

                      #2988
                      ÉricÉric
                      Keymaster

                        Ed Steam’s Rally Update:

                        Where is your Surge Team now?

                        Other recurring characters in the same timeline:

                        • Ed Steam • last seen fomenting a sinister plot in his secret hideout after faking his own demise and looting the Surge HQ artefacts warehouse (#2946)
                        • Aqua Luna • last seen at an unknown location, in a mysterious ship after a probable alien abduction in Long Poon (#2945)
                        • Belle (Bee) Endwhistle • last seen flushed out-of-body in the magic E-map, but didn’t yet reappear unlike Pearl and Mari Fe (#2902)

                        Recurring other-dimensional characters in the same timeline:

                        Other characters in the future timeline:

                        #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. “

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