Search Results for 'sigh'

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  • #543

    The bal room was ready. Malvina was looking around and decided that all was perfect now
    She felt the subtle ripples of her friends energy. Sam was waiting patiently their arrival.

    The east wall just blurred and began to glow lightly of deep teal and emerald shades, blended in a beautiful and quite creative whirlpool.

    Malvina just moved her attention on the encoding of her hair and shift slightly some hue to express a dark stary night, sparkling and full of mystery.

    A thrill went through her body as she saw Georges and Salome emerge from the wall… and she burst into laughter at the sight of the marmoset which was looking at her with such a big smile :face-monkey:

    Her laugh rippled through the crystals of the cave, making their light iridescent and swinging.

    WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH! A giant disco ball :bounce: just for us.

    Georges couldn’t stop laughing and began dancing as Salome was generating a peppy and swinging music… he was all jumping and swirling, and Sam was jumping all around, barking at him with joy.

    — What the hell, began Leörmn but he was fascinated.

    And that’s when a wavy Irtak entered the discave with his 2 dragons… they immediately changed shape and began to swirl around with Georges, and Irtak was wondering if he was dreaming or if it was another process in his discovery… he was feeling as if he was dancing as the man-Georges. :yahoo_hypnotized: His body just started moving following the movements of Georges and they were just one.

    #534
    ÉricÉric
    Keymaster

      Well, to me, it was rather obvious it was a bleedthrough from one dimension to another… sighed Al, who had now half-long teal-coloured hair in perfect shape, as he was filing and shaping his nails turned back to a reasonable size.

      Oh, that FLOYD treatment did well on you marveled Saint Tina.

      FLOYD what?? looked back Becky, who was still fumbling into Sam’s hair, at the sound of the strange word that might have been a clue.

      FLOYD: Focus Lots On Yourself, Dimwit that’s the name of the treatment… It’s made of extracts of Fuckus Rapidus, a new plant that has been blooping in Russian taiga recently. It had covered a whole region in a fortnight. People wondered what they could do about them, but apparently, some old crone found an interesting use for them… But we’re getting side-tracked, aren’t we?

      Oh, this is fascinating Becky said, wondering if she would look better now with a mane of luscious raven hair on her beautiful dark-skinned head… What’s the name already? BOYF?

      No! BOYF is the exact opposite, it’s Blame On Your Friend it’ll have all your hair and nails fall in a few days, even your pubic hair I fear… I still don’t know what’s the use of that though there might be some customers for it… :-? Al was puzzled.

      #531
      TracyTracy
      Participant

        Jobson Batt and Ernie Young toasted each other with a warm glass of fine French brandy. Disaster Damage Team, or DDT, was doing fabulously well, and they congratulated themselves on their perspicacity and foresight.

        Another storm was heading for the west coast, and they chortled happily in anticipation of plenty more work for their booming business.

        #520
        TracyTracy
        Participant

          Oh you and your delete button, Tina! And what rubbish, ‘we can’t have it not making sense’ Since when did it ever make sense? Don’t try and blame me for your delete disorder, sweetie pooh!

          Besides, Tina, you can spell Joe with an E or and A or a U, I still don’t know who the fuck Joe is.

          Tina sighed. Becky, have some more coffee.

          #514
          F LoveF Love
          Participant

            Arona curled up in front of the fire with little Yikesy. Vincentius was telling Yikesy one of his intriguing and colourful tales of far away, imaginary worlds …. there seemed to be men with toads and a girl who liked to dance and a strange blue bull creature that everyone wanted to get their hands on. To be quite honest, Arona couldn’t really follow it, but she loved the sound of Vincentius’ soothing voice. She sighed happily, it was so nice to be back.

            #510

            :multimedia: Marvin Scrozzezi was considering a script that had been sent to him by his friend.
            Betty, his assistant, had insisted that he reads it…

            Seeing his current movie, it couldn’t be any worse in any case.
            The title of the script cracked him up.

            Ogregan, the Origeans

            Marvin giggled, almost spluttering his smoking chai on the script.

            He started to read the first paragraphs.

            FADE IN:
            EXT. WOODS
            A big humphing man plunges into the woods. Twigs slap at him,
            but the sound of gunfires keeps him going. Sheriff Marshall is
            taking the lead, but an auburn haired man plunges into the woods
            before him, followed by one dark-haired one. They are obviously
            brothers. The older one is ELVIN STREWN, he is following his
            younger brother with the lopsided hair, JAY STREWN.
            JAY is shooting at the fugitive, ALDO MC GALLIGAN, a local
            mobster known as the OGREGAN.
            
            Gunfire explodes in trees near the STREWN brothers, shot at them
            by MC GALLIGAN, and they dive and roll into hiding under a
            palisade.

            Interesting stuff, wonders Marvin… That mobster looks like a fascinating character…

            Flipping though the script he found page 57 another catching bit of reading…

             DISSOLVE TO:
            EXT. PROSPERITY BANK ; SHOT of a Texan bank on a quiet street.
            INT. PROSPERITY BANK
            There are three customers, male. Enters a MOTHER and her SON.
            TELLER#1: What can I do for you Mrs MC GALLIGAN?
            MRS GALLIGAN to her SON who is drawing on her dress: ALDO, will
            you keep still for a moment, good for nothing!

            Pfff, Marvin sighed, feeling bored.
            Not long after, he was sound asleep, snoring loudly on the comfortable chair.

            #483
            TracyTracy
            Participant

              V’ass placed the box carefully on the pier as soon as he got off the boat, and pulled his false handlebar moustach off with a yelp. Next to come off was the bowler hat, and shake out her tumble of blonde curls. V’ass shrugged off the charcoal grey pinstripe suit jacket and unbuttoned the crisp white shirt. With a long sigh of relief, she started to unwrap the bandages that had squashed her ample bosom to her chest.

              As the bandages fell in loops on the floor, they wrapped themselves around the box, and in an unfortunate twist of fate, when V’ass bent over to pick them up she inadvertently yanked the top of the box off.

              Oh…MY…GOD! V’ass shrank backwards as hundreds of huge blue spiders spilled out of the box. She lost her footing, and fell backwards into the sea with a splash.

              #479

              Dr Bronkelhampton peeled off his long blonde wig to reveal a completely bald, and rather sweaty, head underneath. For the purposes of the experiment it had seemed best to pose as a woman, however soon there would be no need for such subterfuge. Provided all went to plan.

              He gazed out the window at the ocean, the waves breaking gently on the golden sand. The tall coconut palms standing majestically. It was truly paradise. He slapped at his arm, if it weren’t for the heat and these damn mosquitoes!

              Veranassessee should be returning soon with the first of the arrivals. He sighed happily.

              A piercing scream broke his reverie. It had come from the laboratory, where the mummy, as he affectionately called his first guinea pig, or client, had been having another session under the Perlication Y3 Laser.

              #478

              Ted did a double take at the sight of the tall lean man. Fuck me! he cried in astonishment, It’s a doppelganger! Ted’s hand shook as he swigged down the dregs of his tequila; he slammed it down on the bar and called for a refill.

              #461

              Jose Maria stood sadly in front of the plate glass window. He avoided looking in mirrors, tried to forget his disfiguring scars, but occasionally he caught sight of his reflection in a window, and it always came as a shock. He avoided leaving the finca as much as possible, but had felt obliged to visit his frail and aged mother in the Residencia old folks home. His uncle Juan had come trundling up the dirt track to the farm in his clapped out old Citroen van, with the news that Josefina was expected to die within the week, and Jose Maria had agreed to make the trip into town.

              A pointless trip really, Josefina hadn’t recognized him, had called him Sally at first, and tried to kiss him; and then later she’d shrunk from him in fear, calling him Pierre.

              *****
              Three days later Josefina was dead. Jose was required to make another trip into town, much to his dismay, to the funeral. He stood quietly at the back during the ceremony, next to his cousin Paquita, who was attempting to hide a bad case of acne behind her long black hair. Jose Maria smiled at her kindly, and she smiled gratefully back.

              Paquita and Jose stayed close to each other for the rest of the day, and Paquita’s family invited Jose to spend the night at their apartment in town. Jose hesitated, but when he noticed Paqui’s hopeful expression, he relented and accepted courteously.

              Long after the rest of the family had gone to bed, Jose and Paqui sat on the balcony overlooking the industrial estate and the superstores, in companiable silence. Jose’s scars, and Paquita’s acne no longer visible in the darkness, they had both relaxed, and wondered vaguely why they’d never really noticed each other before.

              Paqui broke the silence. Well, you’ll have no worries now about money, Joselito.

              What do you mean? asked Jose.

              Well, Josefina won the lottery, and you’re her only child, Jose, it will all be yours.

              Jose’s mouth opened and closed like a goldfish. Lottery? Oh you must be mistaken, my mother doesn’t have any money. WHAT lottery win?

              #459

              Frankly, Malvina seems a bit down, Tina said to Al after having read the play’s entry.
              Oh, well, I suppose she has too her bad hair days… sighed Al who had shaved his hair in a mohawk this morning. He was thinking of trying some new beliefs adjustments so that he would be able to regulate more precisely the flow of his hairs…
              In fact, he knew it was just as easy as knowing that the hair do not grow, just like trees do not grow.
              A bit like the mummy in that old book from Anne Rice who could just absorb the rays of the sun to regenerate his body…

              :fleuron:

              Malika was painting her toenails. Bright fuchsia.
              She would spend Thanksgiving with her family, and felt some lightness would be very needed in that environment.
              She had decided on a white outfit, with light blue and white coach purse and little heeled shoes.
              A little quartz pendant to complete the ensemble would be perfect.

              :fleuron:

              Malvina had finished preparing the vials of silgreen bloom’s potion. There were thirty three of them, all lined up, and now she could go for her walk to the village.
              Strangely, she became aware of an energy; in fact two energies. They were diffuse in the background before, but now, they were popping to the forefront, and very intensely.
              Visitors?

              That was unexpected…

              :fleuron:

              Salome had thought of a gift for Malvina. She had shown it mentally to Georges, and he had smiled in her mind warmly.
              And as they walked into the tunnels, they started to gather particles of matter of that dimension around their focus of attention, and slowly started to become translucent bodies, and then fully focused.

              The gift was following them.

              #457

              Joe indicated left and pulled off the motorway.

              Fancy a cuppa, ‘arry? he asked his long faced companion.

              Arr, ok, Joe, may as well. Harry sighed. I just dunno what to make of it, y’know.

              Me either, ‘arry. What the devil got into ‘em? Buggering off like that! He shook his head sadly. I ‘opes they’ll be orlright.

              Joe pulled into the motorway service station and parked his car carefully between the white lines. I fancies me a plate of chips and egg, he said.

              Arr, me too, Joe, said Harry.

              ~~
              Harry wiped the egg and ketchup off his plate with the remains of a slice of buttered white bread and said, Our Fred says our Mavis is off, an’ all.

              Our Mavis? Blimey, ‘arry, not our Mavis an’ all. Joe tutted, and noisily slurped his tea.
              I wish, he said passionately, I wish I’d never bought that bloody computer, I knew nothing good would come of it. Perverts and bloody foreignors, the bloody lot of ‘em. What’s wrong with a nice pint of best bitter down at the Duck, eh? And a nice game of darts, eh?

              Or dominoes, added Harry.

              Arr, dominoes an’ all, agreed Joe.

              ~~
              A cuppa just i’n‘t the same without a fag is it, grumbled Joe.

              It i’n‘t, agreed Harry. I just don’t understand it, what’s our Sha’ need an ‘ealth farm for?

              ‘Ealth farm? Our Gloria never said nuffink about an ‘ealth farm, ‘arry.

              #446
              F LoveF Love
              Participant

                About time you woke up, came a familiar grumpy voice from behind a pile of logs. Mandrake emerged. And I don’t have fur balls, he added, haughtily.

                Mandrake, thank God! Arona had been a little concerned that , given the amount of time presumably had passed, Mandrake may no longer be with them. Tactfully she kept this to herself, given Mandrake’s especially truculent mood.

                Please tell me what happened now, she said to Vincentius. I think I am ready to hear.

                Vincentius looked uncertain, sighed , but agreed to tell her the tale. Afterwards, Arona was silent for quite some time. She stared thoughtfully at the fire, mesmerised by the dancing flames, gently stroking Mandrakes silky black coat.

                Oh bugger, she said eventually and stood up decisively. I really think I have to go and see that old lizardy croney woman, and without delay.

                I wish you wouldn’t, but I do understand, said Vincentius sadly.

                I don’t understand, said Mandrake crossly, twitching his tail impatiently and narrowing his green eyes

                Arona went over to the sleeping Yikesy and studied him with fond interest. He is not getting any better looking with age is he? She kissed him tenderly on the cheek and whispered in his ear.

                Thank you so much for caring for him, she said to Vincentius and gave him a huge hug.

                On the way out of the cave she ran into Leormn.

                Oh, she said, Vincentius said you allowed us to use the room. Thank you so much. And she kissed Leormn on what she thought would be his cheek, however, a little unsure of Dragon anatomy, it may have been technically a snout or something.

                Arona walked rapidly for several hours, trying to concentrate on the directions given to her by Vincentius and hoping that she was headed in the right direction. Eventually she started to tire and her determination faded. She sat down on a rock and closed her eyes. Her shoulders slumped in weariness and she despondently wished she was back in the cave with the others. She felt deeply sad.

                And is this something you really must face? asked a kindly voice in her head.

                I have no idea really, she answered despairingly. I don’t know. I mean I thought I knew. I thought if I didn’t then I would always be in fear. When I looked into the flames of the fire it all seemed clear. I needed to understand and face it, I thought anyway….

                hmmm, said the voice. Well the best advice I can give you is to trust yourself.

                Arona opened her eyes and saw, to her surprise, a small cottage in the distance. Why, I don’t remember that cottage being there a moment ago, she thought. It looks just as Vincentius described. How remarkable. I was closer than I thought! Her spirits rose.

                Outside the cottage the old crone was bent over, digging in a small vegetable plot. A basket of cabbages sat by her side. She stood up at Arona’s approach, wiping the dirt from her gnarly hands on her apron.

                Hello Arona, she cackled. I have been expecting you. I don’t believe we were properly introduced last time. My name is Lucille. And she held out a hand for Arona to shake.

                I have come to get some answers from you, said Arona, firmly crossing her arms and ignoring the outstretched hand.

                Lucille sighed and dropped her hand. Her pointy chin quivered, and Arona noticed a big wart, with one thick black hair growing out of it, right on the tip of lucille’s chin. She tried not to stare.

                Alright little one, Lucille said soflty. Why don’t you go and wait in the orchard. I will go and fix us a nice, cool drink of lemonade.

                The orchard was full of old fruit trees, their twisted trunks reminded Arona of Lucille herself. From one of the trees hung an old swing. Arona sat on it, holding the rope, and gently rocked herself back and forwards, thinking. She had to admit, she was, quite frankly puzzled. The visit so far wasn’t going as expected.

                She kept rocking, faster now.

                She hit her heels into the hard earth again and again.

                I don’t know. She tried to dig these words into the earth with her heels.

                Then she sidestepped her feet in crab-like movements in diminishing circles. The ropes of the swing twisted tighter and tighter.

                Arona leant backwards and stuck her legs out straight in front of her. The ropes unwound and sent her spinning. weeeeeeeeeeee hoooooooooooooooo!

                She looked up into the sky. Blue sky through the trees with racing spinning clouds. She felt dizzy.

                She stood up and braced herself against the seat of the swing. She held onto the ropes and pushed hard against the seat beneath her. She bent her knees under the swing. She kicked her feet forwards.

                She wanted to go higher. She bent her legs back under the swing. Then kicked them outwards. She stretched her body backwards and arched her back.

                I don’t know, she whispered.

                She sat upright. She bent her legs back under the swing. Then kicked them as hard as she could. She leant her body backwards. She stretched as far as she could. On the rebound her heels hit the ground hard, but still she wanted to keep going higher and higher.

                I DON’T KNOW! she shouted, as loudly as she could.

                :fleuron:

                Lucille returned with the lemonade.

                How do I know if it is safe to drink this? Arona asked. You have cast one spell on me, how am I to know this is not another?

                Lucille cackled. Dear little Arona, she said, if I wanted to cast a spell on you I would have done it before now.

                Okay, well that makes good sense, thought Arona, gratefully drinking the lemonade.

                #429
                TracyTracy
                Participant

                  Dory stuck three nicotine patches in a neat row along her thigh, and rubbed them to make sure they were properly stuck. She would be glad when the era of medical suggestibility was over. I really must remember to practice out of body travel, she thought, as she always thought when she had to travel by conventional means.

                  The sight of white ferret streaking through the airport lounge interrupted her grumbling.

                  #1848
                  F LoveF Love
                  Participant

                    ha cool, I only just saw this. :face-grin:
                    When will it be continued? :yahoo_sigh:

                    #403

                    November, 1 st 2057

                    Sean took another glass of scotch to give him some courage to call.

                    — It’s your twelfth now, that’s supposed to give you courage
                    — Oh, Maggie, my live is such a mess…
                    — It’s not, and you know it. Look at all our beautiful children, and Becky who went through so much just out of love for you…

                    Sean didn’t know whether he was actually seeing the ghost of his deceased wife, or a projection of her, still alive in another part of the Universe, but she always had been a comforting presence.
                    He had started to see her a few months after her disappearance.
                    Yes, during that T.R.A.P. expedition, yeah, “live-changing experience” they had said… True, too true… Perhaps the electromagnetic field had messed up with his brains, but now he could see her clear as day.

                    That had been a bit freaky in the beginning, and when they made love with Becky, he was a bit anxious to see her appear not invited. But Margaret had been discrete, well mostly. At times, he wondered if she had not sneaked into the bedroom and merged her energies with Becky’s, just to be closer to him… Becky’s acts did not always make sense anyway, so that was hardly a criterion to judge of that.

                    All his live had been like that. A jumble of incoherent stuff. Oh, he had enjoyed it, especially at the beginning. His father Lord Wrick was obsessed with the Shift, and had found some ancient knowledge in his youth. Mostly rubbish by nowadays standards, bunches of rotten books of prophecies handed down to a few chosen ones, who were supposed to be forewarned of doom to come. Now, they knew that they were only a wake up call, but at that time, it was another thing altogether.

                    Of course, the wealth accumulated over the centuries by the Wrick family had been helpful to access these precious archaeological documents. A few of them had played a key role.
                    For instance, the in-extenso Life and Deeds of Lord Gustard Willoughby Fergusson, a rare version of the diary of Lord Fergusson, annotated by his daughter, Illi, was telling an account of history much different than the one romanced after his death by his wife Floribunda von Grott.
                    Thanks to it, Lord Wrick had been able to acquire some inkling as to ancient treasures. Old fool…
                    It had killed his wife, Artemisia, devastated by the madness of her husband, and it had alienated the other part of the family too.
                    But all that counted was to make the discoveries, and perhaps enlight the masses.

                    Sean had never really forgave his father that he wanted to utilise Margaret and have her fit into his plans of grandeur. Of course, his father had willingly accepted the union, and despite all appearances (for the sake of those rapacious journalists) he had even pushed Sean to do it quickly. But all he was really interested in was her precious discoveries.

                    — Oh, but I was not innocent, Sean
                    — I know Maggie, you were obsessed by what we could offer to you, especially when you read about the botanical experiments in the deserts, which were related in that old book. But still…
                    — We all had grown up through that, you know…
                    — Yes, and what showed me that, was that I was concerned that the old vampire would suck my own children into his web, but Peregrine was too free for that, and Guinevere preferred to live her live outside of this madness too.
                    Becky had a good influence. Do me a favour, be kind to her.
                    — You know what?… Yes of course you’d know,… but let me tell you, so that we can laugh together… I found myself really happy and free when I stole the two magical books out of the Old Fool’s clutch. God knows how he acquired them, but one thing was sure, he was obsessed with them. I couldn’t get the mummy, but the books were a great take.
                    — And a funny idea to give them to your cousin…
                    — Yes, Dorean was the perfect person. I couldn’t leave them anywhere, my father would have found them again. At least he wasn’t in good terms with his brother and sister-in-law, so they were safe in their care. And at least, they were more grounded than my father, the perfect keepers for the books… I’m wondering what happened to them…
                    — That will upset you, but Perry’s twins got them.
                    — Oh really?
                    — Yes, and they are having fun with them, as was intended.
                    — That’s fine then, and we are less obsessed now than we were before, so I guess my father isn’t as much as a pain in the butt as he was…
                    — You father meant good
                    — Yes, like everyone, but why can’t we leave people alone at times? People can sort out their issues without the commiseration, and the good intentions… It’s poison even worse… Like I can drink and still be healthy, and nice, and…

                    Sean started to sob.

                    — I know, darling, but you’re as much of a sore as your father was… You focus so much on what’s not going right, and you don’t even appreciate that you can talk with your departed wife… That was nothing as easy in the old days.
                    — Do you think my father talks with mum to?
                    — I think he would be too proud to admit he is sorry… That may hinder the communication… But Arty wouldn’t bear grudge now. When we let go of the physical, things become so clear, we can only be accepting of everything. Perhaps you prefer to wait for your father to cross over? I can tell you something, that won’t be easier. That much I know.
                    — You’re right. It’s just that I don’t know how to start…
                    — Be yourself, talk about what you enjoy, where is your passion now… Perhaps that is the problem. You’re drowning your passion in your scotch.
                    — You’re right… I’ll tell him Léan will have a baby.
                    — Oh, he’ll love it!
                    — How time flies… sighed Sean, I still remember the little sweetie as a blue-eyed laughing baby herself, with Oliver and Illana. She was the only one of the triplet to have inherited her mother’s dark complexion. She’s so beautiful…
                    — Let’s call your father darling
                    — Yes, let’s call him.

                    ***

                    Lord Wrick had not expected to received that call. Well, he had renounced it so long ago.
                    He had been a bit shaken, but also relieved. He had proposed, on an impulse, to invite that whole part of the family he barely knew, Sean’s new partner, and all their children for next Christmas in the castle. Sean had told him they would probably come with Becky but that the children were now having their own lives, and it would have to be for another time.

                    ***

                    Lord Wrick went to see Bill, who was now painting the portraits of Peregrine and Linda in the veranda.
                    He would probably have to stay longer, to paint a lot of new family portraits.

                    That probably would come perfectly, as ever, as the Lord could tell India Louise loved to spend time with the painter. Perhaps she would become an artist too… :sumari:

                    #395

                    Sanso breathed a sigh of relief to find himself once again on his own. He’d found the flighty and changable Arona hard work, if truth be told, and was rather offended that she’d marched off with the baby Yikesy without even so much as a backwards glance at him. Sanso was a bit sad to see Yikesey leaving, (or Zacquer as he chose to think of him) but he knew he’d meet him again…somewhere, someplace, sometime…..

                    He had to admit he was glad to see the back of that horrid cat, at any rate.

                    Sanso didn’t really have a plan at that point, so he just started walking, walking along the cave tunnels, trusting that he would find another portal/cave entrance soon to another adventure.

                    Such was his trust and superb state of allowing,that no sooner had he thought of finding a portal and a new adventure, as he rounded the very next corner, a blaze of sunshine streamed into the cave and a gust of hot desert wind.

                    #327

                    The rain was pouring cabbages :weather-showers: for several days now, almost the whole week… Baul was fed up with that filthy weather of Cromash Tur. The capital of this 4th kingdom was quite nice and pleasurable, but it lacked sun and warmth… Baul had come to Nâabooli, the capital of Cromash, in order to settle an arrangement. Something quite particular that he couldn’t find in his own land of Erpet Mesh. He’d been travelling for weeks with his guards and servants when he arrived in the city and all that for some foo’kin rain! But something more important than brooding and pouting was on his mind.

                    Tonight he was alone, no servant, no guard… he was wearing a black coat made of goat skin on his usual blue and yellow silk robe, he couldn’t wear anything else, his skin was too smooth and delicate. He was spending great amount of money to take care of his body, it was his own pride, and he considered himself as a very handsome and appealing male.

                    The man he was about to meet wasn’t hiding, but oddly was acting in full sight. Nonetheless, Baul didn’t want to be seen with him, Baul was an ambassador of sort from Erpet and he couldn’t be seen entering in an Assassin’s house. In Cromash, the Assassins were quite a respectable and wealthy, but in Erpet they were outlaw… one of the numerous differences between the two kingdoms, one they would never agree upon. Baul found it quite useful though; many times he’d met Ar’Am Khra, one of the best of this profession.

                    For this meeting, as always, Baul had chosen a tavern, the Landgurdy, called after one of the former 12 kingdoms. The 4 remaining ones were at war most of the times, they couldn’t maintain peace more than a few years at best, and Baul had found many ways of benefiting of this situation. Merchant, Ambassador, and much more. He was thriving with plotting :face-angel: :face-devil-grin: and it was quite useful to be one of the ambassadors of Erpet Mesh, offering him safety wherever he was going. It was one of the few respected rules that were common between the Warring Kingdoms.

                    The Landgurdy was quite a crowded tavern, and the owner was a friend of his, though not really officially. There was that private room on the rear of the building, know only of a few chosen “friends”, so they could enter unnoticed by the usual customers and by would be spies. The rear door was seemingly leading into another building, and some arrangements had been made over the years.

                    Baul knocked the code at the door, and a vasistas was open quickly and closed even more quickly. The door opened then and he entered in the darkness of the house. If anyone opened the door, he or she wasn’t there anymore, but Baul knew the place quite well as it wasn’t his first meeting with the Assassin.

                    :fleuron:

                    The Assassin was waiting in the small room, square shaped with only a wood table and one chair. No window. One dim lamp.
                    He was sitting on the lone carved chair. His clients needn’t sit.
                    They were mere beggers.
                    The one that was coming now, was quite amusing.
                    The first time he met him, Baul was quite young and inexperienced in his own skills. Though he was quite ambitious, Ar’Am Khra had to admit it.
                    The usual reaction when seeing the Assassin’s pale complexion was shivers and disgust. He was used to it and it was a game that he had enhanced with a little bluish glowing dagger tattooed on his forehead.
                    The dagger was the mark of his profession, though not so obviously exhibited by the others. Cowards.
                    At that first meeting, Baul didn’t react the way his other clients did. And it was not influenced by his utmost concerns at that time. Beside his inexperience he was quite engrossed in what he had called his “mission”.
                    Ar’Am Khra did not know of any mission, there were merely contracts.
                    And he was doing what his clients were paying for.
                    Accomplishing his contract even after the death of his clients.

                    He was remembering of an amusing event.
                    A client had hired him to end the life of another man, and the second man went a few days after to his office to beg him to kill the first man.
                    The Assassin accepted the contract.
                    A few days later he killed the second man.
                    He executed the first one not long after that, thus respecting the second contract. :yahoo_skull:

                    He never questioned the motives of his clients.
                    It was not for him to judge or to understand. Though most of the time he did understand quite well.
                    His main motivation was the payment and his own pride in expressing his skill with subtleties and newness.

                    The door opened smoothly. Baul entered the room.

                    :yahoo_alien:

                    :fleuron:

                    Yann and Quintin had an interesting chat during the afternoon. Yann had some new impressions about the map of Lord Wrick annotated by Quintin. Something about the Warring Kingdoms, triggered by a dream of an Assassin in one of them. It was frustrating not to be in the same room so Yann could show Quintin directly on the map, but with Internet there were some other options.

                    The names of these lands were Ata’Meliu, Dam Adbor, Erpet Mesh and Cromash Tur. These 4 Kingdoms were rather scattered on the Lan’Ork part of the continent, pieces and bits everywhere, though Ata’Meliu was more in the center and the South of the Lan’Ork, Dam Adbor in the East and in the North, and Cromash Tur in the West and South West parts, Erpet was divided in 2 main areas, one located on the Northern land just before the Isthmus of Ghört’s Hammer, and a smaller one lost in the middle of Ata’Meliu.

                    Yann only had the impression of 2 of the capitals, Naat Medin was the one of Erpet Mesh and Nâabooli of Cromash Tur.

                    Quintin just sent him the map so he could draw some more comments and sketch the boundaries of the Warring Kingdoms. He didn’t know why, but he felt some movements were about to begin, some reconfigurations of the borders :world:

                    #316
                    TracyTracy
                    Participant

                      Do you understand? George asked with a penetrating stare.

                      Dory sighed, yeah yeah yeah. I must have read the concept a hundred or a thousand times, but I keep forgetting! Why is that George? I understand that in theory, but I always seem to forget, when the crunch comes to shove…her voice trailed off confusedly.

                      #276
                      F LoveF Love
                      Participant

                        Whanga the witch crawled out of the narrow entrance to her cosy cave to survey the day. Perfect witching weather she chuckled gleefully to herself; a tad overcast and cold, which made her job much easier, as even the fairies tended a little to despondency in such weather conditions. She noticed a bruise on her left shin and sighed. Whanga was used to this sort of misunderstanding in her job of course. She enjoyed her work, and was proud of what she did, however humans in particular just didn’t understand the service she provided, and were quick to be vengeful. The dream world left her a little exposed unless she remembered to do her protective spells before sleep, and last night she had just been too weary. Still, she thought cheering up considerably, she had obtained another wand for her collection yesterday, and felt sure this would improve her Witch of Loathing ranking.

                        Still feeling a little put out though about the bruise, although this was mainly pride, as she was impervious to pain in the way the humans suffered it, Whanga looked into her glass ball to see what knowledge it would reveal. That little Fairy Princess from the Land of the Far White Cloud was carrying on she saw. Hmmm who was that fat lady with her though? Whanga wondered. She looked very familiar to Whanga, who felt a ripple of uneasiness in her right index finger, a sure sign of danger. This could be trouble ….

                        She looked again and saw a young human female, attacking her violently in her dreams. For a moment Whanga toyed with the idea of revenge and cackled happily at the idea of all the mischief she could cause.

                        Pull yourself together Whanga, said Whanga, drawing back reluctantly from this delightful daydream. Keep on track. You know it won’t get you any points with the high witch adjudicators, it is the fairies you must focus on.

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