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  • “Psst|! Glynis!” the muffled voice seemed to be coming from behind the smugwort bushes. With a sigh, she plonked the unappetizing looking casserole on the table, making it look heavier than it was. Sighing again, Glynis made her way out of the open kitchen door with a slow heavy tread. There it was again: “Glynis! Shhh! Over ... · ID #4742 (continued)
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  • #4795
    TracyTracy
    Participant

      The woman turned round to glare at the man with the demented grin sitting behind her. “I think this is yours,” she said, plucking a cashew from her hair and handing it to him through the gap between the seats. “I hope,” she added pointedly, “That the remainder of the flight will be less of a challenge for you.”

      #4791

      Once he’d finished to tell the story, and let the kids go back to the cottage for the night, Rukshan’s likeness started to vanish from the place, and his consciousness slowly returned to the place where his actual body was before projecting.

      Being closer to the Sacred Forest enhanced his capacities, and where before he could just do sneak peeks through minutes of remote viewing, he could now somehow project a full body illusion to his friends. He’d been surprised that Fox didn’t seem to notice at all that he wasn’t truly there. His senses were probably too distracted by the smells of food and chickens.

      He’d wanted to check on his friends, and make sure they were alright, but it seemed his path ahead was his own. He realized that the finishing of the loo was not his own path, and there was no point for him to wait for the return of the carpenter. That work was in more capable hands with Glynis and her magic.

      His stomach made an indiscreet rumbling noise. It was not like him to be worried about food, but he’d gone for hours without much to eat. He looked at his sheepskin, and the milk in it had finally curdled. He took a sip of the whey, and found it refreshing. There wouldn’t be goats to milk in this part of the Forest, as they favored the sharp cliffs of the opposite site. This and a collection of dried roots would have to do until… the other side.

      To find the entrance wasn’t too difficult, once you understood the directions offered by the old map he’d recovered.

      He was on the inner side of the ringed protective enclosures, so now, all he needed was to get into the inner sanctum of the Heartwood Forest, who would surely resist and block his path in different ways.

      “The Forest is a mandala of your true nature…”

      He turned around. Surprised to see Kumihimo there.

      “Don’t look surprised Fae, you’re not the only one who knows these parlor tricks.” She giggled like a young girl.

      “of my nature?” Rukshan asked.

      “Oh well, of yours, and anybody’s for that matter. It’s all One you, see. The way you see it, it represents yourself. But it would be true for anybody, there aren’t any differences really, only in the one who sees.”

      She reappeared behind his back, making him turn around. “So tell me,” she said “what do you see here?”

      “It’s where the oldest and strongest trees have hardened, it’s like a fence, and a… a memory?”

      “Interesting.” She said “What you say is true, it’s memory, but it’s not dead like you seem to imply. It’s hardened, but very much alive. Like stone is alive. The Giants understood that. And what are you looking for?”

      “An entrance, I guess. A weak spot, a crack, a wedge?”

      “And why would you need that? What if the heart was the staircase itself? What if in was out and down was up?”

      Rukshan had barely time to mouth “thank you” while the likeness of the Braid Seer floated away. She’d helped him figure out the entrance. He touched one of the ring of the hard charred trees. They were pressed together, all clomped in a dense and large enclosure virtually impossible to penetrate. His other memories told him the way was inside, but his old memories were misleading.
      Branches were extending from the trunks, some high and inaccessible, hiding the vision of the starry sky, some low, nearly indistinguishable from old gnarled roots. If you looked closely, you could see the branches whirring around like… Archimedes Screw. A staircase?

      He jumped on a branch at his level, which barely registered his weight. The branch was dense and very slick, polished by the weathering of the elements, with the feel of an old leather. He almost lost his balance and scrapped his hands between the thumb and the index.

      “Down is up?”

      He spun around the branch, his legs wrapped around the branch. He expected his backpack to drag him towards the floor, but strangely, even if from his upside-down perspective, it was floating above him, it was as if it was weightless.

      He decided to take a chance. Slowly, he hoisted himself towards his floating bag, and instead of falling, it was as though the branch was his ground. Now instead of a spiral staircase around the trees leading to heavens, it was the other side of the staircase that spiraled downwards to the starry night.

      With his sheepskin and back still hovering, he started to climb down the branches towards the Giants’ land.

      #4775

      The wind swooshed in the garden, making fallen apples roll on the ground. The air had a lively smell of earth and decaying fruit, and the grass was still moist from the morning dew.
      The statue of Gorrash was facing East, and the rising sun was bringing golden hues to his petrified face. Little snoots were curled in glowing colourful balls of liquid fur around the statue, making it pulsate with a quieting purr. Around Gorrash, the slope was peppered with some of the gargoyles rejects that Eleri had made and couldn’t sell at the market. Still, instead of discarding them, she’d arranged a little forest of painted gargoyles as a sort of silent watchful army guarding Gorrash’s sleep.
      Rukshan liked to meditate at the place, it helped with the stress he’d felt at coming back from the last ordeals. He wouldn’t have thought, but his identity had felt more shaken than he knew. He wasn’t feeling at home with the Faes any longer, and there were few people who could relate to his adventures in the villages nearby, where he was nothing more than an ominous stranger. Retreating in the Fae’s dimension, hidden from all and mostly abandoned was a tempting thought, but he’d found it was a lure with empty promises. He still had work to do.

      Tak and Nesy were already awake and were coming back for the rest of the story.
      He’d started to tell them about the Giants, the old forgotten story which he’d learnt many years ago in his previous life as a Dark Fae. Both were captivated at the prowess displayed by the Master Craftsmen, the old Rings of Stones that they built, the Cairns of the Fallen, and the Fields of Chanting Boulders where magic rituals where performed.

      “Tell us more Rukshan!” they said. “Tell us more about the Three Giant Kings.”
      “Do you remember their names?” he smiled back at the children.
      “Yes! There was Ceazar…” Tak started
      “Caesar, yes” he corrected gently
      “… and Archimedes,” Tak continued hesitantly
      “Yes, and who was the third one?”
      “He had a long and strange name! Nesy, help me!”
      The girl tried to help him “It starts with a V”
      “Vergincetorix!” the answer came from behind a bush.

      “Fox!” Nesy cried reproachfully. “It’s not even right! It’s Vercingetorix!”
      “Correct Nesy! And Fox, no need to lurk in the shadows, stories are not only for children you know.”

      Fox took a place near the gargoyle army garden, and a baby snoot jumped into his lap, cooing in vibrating mruii.

      “So what about these Kings do you want to know?” Rukshan asked.
      “Everything!” they all said in unison.
      “Oh well, in this case, let me retell you the story of the Golden Age of the Three Giant Kings, and how they saved their people from a terrible catastrophe.”

      #4773

      “Albie, wake up, sweetie!”

      “He doesn’t seem to have been hit as hard as the others, yet, he doesn’t look very bright…” Mandrake said to Arona, with a hint of concern behind the usual snark.

      “It’ll take him a day or two to recover. This was a psychic attack the scale of which I haven’t seen before.” Arona was assessing the situation. Luckily for her, the old protective spells woven in the cloak that she’d used to make her hijab had protected her from it. Sanso seemed to have been hit more, although the effects varied and honestly, it was always a bit difficult to be a fair judge of his sanity or lack thereof.

      “Strange things happen around these keys.” Mandrake said pointing at the key that Arona was wearing around her neck. “Are you sure you still want to run around places finding the others? Especially after what Fergus said about them?”

      “I never knew you to pussy out like that” she said with a smile “where’s your sense of adventure?”

      “The point is, I wouldn’t know where to start. It was all supposed to be a simple recon mission, wasn’t it? But that energy surge… Something else entirely; maybe we should leave it to Ed Steam and his team.”

      Mandrake stretched lazily, and continued “I wouldn’t feel bad about them, seems they got the hang of living in a ghost town, they don’t need all the action to feel good. Might end up wake up the underground monsters, if you let them.”

      Arona sighed “You still have a few of these pearls left, do you? Then let’s give Albie a day or two to recuperate, and we’ll bring him back to the Doline.”

      “Oh, that’s smart. From the Doline’s vortex, it’ll be much easier to pick up the energy signature of the other keys, check if they haven’t been moved.”

      “Better pray that they haven’t been moved, or found.”

      #4772

      It was ridiculous, outrageous even: trapped in a fictional story… Granola couldn’t believe it at first. But the facts were plain and simple. The walls of the glowing red crystal albeit slightly elastic wouldn’t let her pass.

      It all started when the Doctor launched his experiment, or at least that’s what she surmised from the past few days of observation from inside the crystal. She got to admit the vantage point was interesting, were it not for the red hue tinting everything in her sight. The Doctor was madder than a mad hatter, and kept very strange company.

      At first, she thought it was all inside of a story made up by her friends and that she was safely within the story realm, but of late it seemed it wasn’t as clear cut as it used to be. The Doctor lived in the same dimension as her friends after all; maybe he was the one who’d managed to voyage through dimensions. But Maeve, Shawn-Paul were still in their Australian adventure, at risk from the magpies, and the remote brainwashing; only Lucinda and Jerk were more or less safe for now, but they were trapped in their rut and lacking of inspiration.

      When it started, she had immediately noticed the huge bursts of energy, like waves of dark light, and had wished herself at the source of it, to see what was targeting her friends. In turn, it disrupted the evil machinery, and trapped her in the crystal.

      Mad as he was, the Doctor wasn’t lacking brains. He’d already figured out there was something special about the crystal, and was spending his days observing it ignoring the distractions provided by his beehived coiffed servant.

      She didn’t want to call Ailill for help, this one she’d got to figure out on her own, and fast, or else her friends may soon be in more dire situation.

      #4769

      Aunt Idle:

      I bet you were expecting reports of action and adventure, a fast paced tale of risks and rescues, with perhaps a little romance. Hah! It’s been like a morgue around here after that fluster of activity and new arrivals. Like everyone lost the wind out of their sails and wondered what they were doing here.

      Sanso took to his room with no explanation, other than he needed to rest. He wouldn’t let anyone in except Finly with food and drinks (quite an extraordinary amount for just one man, I must say, and not a crumb or a drop left over on the trays Finly carried back to the kitchen.) I told Finly to quiz him, find out if he was sick or needed a doctor, or perhaps a bit of company, but the only thing she said was that he was fine, and it was none of our business, he’d paid up front hadn’t he? So what was the problem. Bit rude if you ask me.

      Mater had taken to her room with a pile of those trashy romance novels, complaining of her arthritis. She’d gone into a sulk ever since I ruined her red pantsuit in a boil wash, and dyed all the table linen pink in the process. The other guests lounged around listlessly in the sitting room or the porch, flicking through magazines or scrolling their gadgets, mostly with bored vacant expressions, and little conversation beyond a cursory reply to any attempt to chat.

      Bert was nowhere to be seen most of the time, and even when he was around, he was as uncommunicative as the rest of them, and Devan, what was he up to, always down the cellar? Checking the rat traps was all he said when I asked him. But we haven’t got rats, I told him, not down the cellar anyway. He gave me a look that was unreadable, to put it politely. Maybe he’s got a crack lab going on down there, planning on selling it to the bored guests. God knows, maybe that’d liven us all up a bit.

      I did get to wondering about those two women who wandered off down the mine, but whenever I mentioned them to anyone, all I got was a blank stare. I even banged on Sanso’s door a time or two, but he didn’t answer. I made Finly ask him, and she said all he would say is Not to worry, it would be sorted out. I mean, really! He hadn’t left that room all week, how was he going to sort it out? Bert said the same thing when I eventually managed to collar him, he said just wait, it will get sorted out, and then that glazed look came over his face again.

      It’s weird, I tell you. We’re like a cast of characters with nobody writing the story, waiting. Waiting to start again on whatever comes next.

      #4768

      Probably afraid to catch the floo, Muriel had packed in a jiffy, and left the place without saying much more than a few admonitions.

      Fox winked at Glynis. “Good job at faking it! You should have done it a long time back. I still wonder how you managed to get all the hues right in the snotting potion. Look at those greens!”

      Glynis atchooed some more, in case Muriel was still within earshot, then laughed heartily. It was good to laugh. She disliked the saying that you always laugh at the expense of someone, but in that case it felt splendid. Muriel had been such a bag of chips on her shoulders, with her moaning and complaining and her hardly lifting a finger.

      After all the belly laughing was done, and some more for good measure, she looked at Fox’s wrinkled nose, and laughed some more: “the loo is still in a dire situation though!”

      He tittered jollily, hooting his reply “For sure! All the purple cabbage you fed that harpy didn’t help!”

      #4761

      Barbara’s office was dead silent apart from the regular bips of the machines. The whiteness of the painted walls made it feel like a psych ward. She shivered away the memories that were trying to catch her attention.

      It’s been two hours since the Doctor had locked himself up in his rage-release room, a spacious soundproofed room with padded walls. Not even a small window to look inside and check if his anger had subsided. Barbara clearly preferred the trauma of the shouts and cries and the broken plates that were hidden here and there for him to use when he needed most. But when he started his therapy with the AI psych module, the damn bot suggested he built that room in order to release his rage in a more intimate framework.
      Now the plates collected dust and the sessions in the room tended to last longer and longer.

      Today’s burst of rage had been triggered by the unexpected gathering of the guests at the Inn. The Doctor was drinking his columbian cocoa, a blend of melted dark chocolate with cheddar cheese, when the old hag in that bloody gabardine started her speech. The camera hidden in the eye of the fish by their agent, gave them a fisheye view of the room. It was very practical and they could see everything. The AI engineer module could recreate a 3D view of the room and anticipate the moves of all the attendees.

      When that girl with the fishnet handed out the keys for all to see and the other girl got the doll out, the Doctor had his attention hyper-focused. He wanted to see it all.
      Except there had been a glitch and images of granola cookies superimposed on the items.

      “Send the magpies to retrieve the items,” he said, nervousness making his voice louder.
      “Ahem,” had answered Barbara.
      “What?” The Doctor turned towards her. His eye twitched when he expected the worst, and it had been twitching fast.
      She had been trying to hide the fact that the magpies had been distracted lately, as she had clearly been herself since she had found that goldminer game on facebush.
      No need to delay the inevitable, she had thought. “The magpies are not in the immediate vicinity of the Inn.” In fact, just as their imprinting mother was busy digging digital gold during her work time, the magpies had found a new vein of gold while going to the Inn and Barbara had thought it could be a nice addition to her meager salary… to make ends meet at the end of the month.

      It obviously wasn’t the right time to do so. And she was worried about the Doctor now.

      To trump her anxiety, she was surfing the internet. Too guilty to play the gold miner, she was looking around for solutions to her boss’s stress. The variety and abundance of advertisement was deafening her eyes, and somewhere in a gold mine she was sure the magpies were going berserk too. She had to find a solution quickly.

      Barbara hesitated to ask the AI. But there were obviously too many solutions to choose from. Her phone buzzed. It was her mother.
      “I finally found the white jade masks. Bought one for you 2. It helps chase the mental stress away. You clearly need it.” Her mother had joined a picture of her wearing the mask on top of a beauty mask which gave her the look of a mummy. Her mother was too much into the woowoo stuffs and Barbara was about to send her a polite but firm no she didn’t want the mask. But the door of the rage-room opened and the Doctor went out. He had such a blissful look on his face. It was unnatural. Barbara had been suspecting the AI to brainwash the Doctor with subliminal messages during those therapy sessions. Maybe it also happened in the rage-room. The AI was using tech to control the Doctor. Barbara would use some other means to win him back.

      OK. SEND IT TO ME QUICK. she sent to her mother.

      #4754

      “Look” Fox said to Glynis, not a little proud of his accomplishment.

      The frame now hanged above the missing toilet seat was already giving the privy a little more cosy look. Of course, the smell of the room with the open hole was still making his nose wrinkle inwards, but the framed dried roses were a nice touch.
      He was particularly happy about the clever no-nail solution he’d found. Crushing together two spiky caterpillars and sticking them at both sides of the back of the frame — it kept the frame stuck nicely, and it could be re-positioned and readjusted to be perfectly level.

      Lost in admiration of his work, he was dragged out of his thoughts by a thunderous sneeze.

      “Good flovious! That flu looks nasty Glynis, you should get some rest, dear.”

      Glynis almost rip-snotted her kerchief in half while blowing her nose.

      “But who will do all the cleaning?” she asked plaintively.

      #4753
      F LoveF Love
      Participant

        But it wasn’t a window ledge. It was Godfrey, sitting cross-legged on the floor under the window ledge.
        “Oops, my bad,” said Finnley, dusting his head to make up for dusting it the first time. “Didn’t realise you were meditating.”
        “I’m trying to maintain my composure with all this dusting of window ledges when there are many more places which are gathering dust. Stories gathering dust, as it were,” he added cleverly.
        “Precisely,” snarled Liz, hoping to make up for her previous mistake.
        “Too late,” said Finnley.

        #4747

        In reply to: The Stories So Near

        ÉricÉric
        Keymaster

          WHERE ARE THEY ALL NOW ? 🗻

          a.k.a. the map thread, and because everything happens now anyway.

          POP-IN THREAD (Maeve, Lucinda, Shawn-Paul, Jerk, [Granola])

          🌀 [map link] – KELOWNA, B.C., CANADA

          It looks like our group of friends live in Canada, Kelowna.

          Kelowna is a city on Okanagan Lake in the Okanagan Valley in the southern interior of British Columbia, Canada. The name Kelowna derives from an Okanagan language term for “grizzly bear”. The city’s motto: “Fruitful in Unity”

          Interestingly, Leörmn the dragon from the Doline may have visited from time to time : Ogopogo / Oggie / Naitaka

          FLYING FISH INN THREAD (Mater/Finly, Idle/Coriander/Clove, Devan, Prune, [Tiku])

          Though very off the beaten track, the Flying Fish Inn may be located near a location that was a clue left as a prank by Corrie & Clove on the social media to lure conspiracy theorists to the Inn.
          🔑 ///digger.unusually.playfully

          It seems to link to a place near documented old abandoned mines.

          🌀 [map link]  – SOME PLACE IN THE MIDDLE OF AUSTRALIA, OFF ARLTUNGA ROAD

          • Tiku, the local bush lady is living around the place.
          • The local shaman who rented the Jeep to Arona & her friends was nearby Uluru ‘s closest airport (Ayer’s Rock, Yulara). 🌀 [map link] : AYER’S ROCK, ULURU

          DOLINE THREAD (Arona, Sanso/Lottie, Ugo, Albie)

          This one is a tricky geographical conundrum, since the Doline is a multi-dimensional hub. It connects multiple realities and places though bodies of water, with the cave structure (the Doline) at its center, a world on its own right, where talking animals and unusual creatures are not uncommon.

          It has shown to connect places in the Bayou in Louisiana, where Albie & Mandrake went to see the witch, as well as the coastal area of Australia, where they emerged next in their search for Arona.

          At the center of the Doline is a mysterious dragon named Leörmn, purveyor of precious traveling pearls and impossible riddles. We thus may infer possible intersection points in our dimension, such as 🔑 ///mysterious.dragon.riddle a little North of Hawaii, in the middle of the Pacific Ocean.

          However, the inside of the Doline would look rather like Phong Nha-Ke Bang gigantic cave in Vietnam.

          NEWSREEL THREAD (Ms Bossy, Hilda/Connie, Sophie, Ricardo)

          It is not very clear where our favourite investigative team is located. They are likely to be near an urban area with a well-connected international airport, given their propensity for impromptu traveling, such as in Iceland and Australia.

          For all we know, they could be settled in Germany: 🔑 ///newspapers.gone.crazy
          or Denmark 🔑 ///publish.odds.news

          As for the Doctor, we strongly suspect his current hideout to be also revealed when searching from his signature beautification prescription that has made him famous in connoisseur circles: 🔑 ///beauty.treatment.shot at the frontier of Sweden and Finland.

          LIZ THREAD (Finnley, Liz, Roberto, Godfrey)

          We don’t really know where the story happens; for that, one would need to dive into Liz’s turbulent past, and that would confound the most sane individual, starting with keeping count of her past husbands.

          As a self-made powerful best-selling writer, we could guess she would take herself to be the JK Rowling of the Unplotted Booker Prize, and thus would be a well-traveled British uptart, sorry upstart, with a fondness for mansions with character and gardeners with toned glutes. Of course, one would need the staff.

          DRAGON 💚 WOOD THREAD (Glynnis, Eleri, Fox/Gorrash, Rukshan)

          This story happens in another completely different dimension, but it can be interesting to explore some of its unusual geography.

          The World revolved around a central axis, and different worlds stacked one upon the other, with the central axis like an elevator.

          We know of

          • the World of Humans, where most of the story takes place
          • the world of Gods, above it, which has been sealed off, and where most Gods disappeared in the old ages
          • Under these two, the world of Giants exists, still to be explored.

          At the intersection of the central axis of the world and the human world, radiates the Heartwood, a mystical forest powered by the Gem of Creation which has been here since the Dawn of Times, and is a intricate maze, and a dimension in itself. It had grown around itself different woods and glades and forests, with various level of magical properties meant to repel intruders or lesser than Godlike beings.

          The Fae dimension is a particular dimension which exists parallel to the Human World, accessible only to Elder Faes, and where the race originated, and is now mostly deserted, as Faes’ magic waning with the encroachment of humans into the Forest, most have chosen to live in the Forests and try and protect them.

          #4746
          TracyTracy
          Participant

            The sense of being left behind had deflated Lucinda. Everyone off having adventures, and here she was left minding the dog. She liked the dog, but not the feeling of missing out on the excitement, and the clues she received were few and far between.

            “Come on, Fabio,” she said, and the little dog looked up expectantly and wagged his tail. “Let’s go for a walk down by the river. We can pick up some granola cookies on the way back.”

            It was a particularly muggy day and not ideal for a long walk. She felt listless and heavy in the humid air. Before walking very far at all along the riverside promenade, she felt clammy and tired, and found a bench under a shady tree to sit on. Fabio cocked his head to one side and looked at her. Lucinda closed her eyes for a few moments, and started to admonish herself for her lack lustre and frankly boring state. “Buck up, for Pete’s sake!” she told herself, but was interrupted by Fabio’s frantic barking and pullling at the lead.

            A man on stilts was coming towards them, wearing long shiny trousers in black and white vertical stripes. Lucinda started at him openly, somewhat shaken, but curious. She could have sworn she’d seen him in a dream the night before.

            The peace shattering sound of a loud motor boat engine intruded into the scene, and when Lucinda looked back to the stilted man in stripes, he’d vanished. The sound of the outboard motor receded as the boat disappeared around a curve in the river; the waves it created splashing on the river banks long after it had disappeared.

            #4743
            TracyTracy
            Participant

              Petra woke up with a sickening lurch, her head swimming. Siting up she peered around at her surroundings. Where was she? Dolls? Cats? Petra didn’t have any dolls or cats, what was she doing here? Aghast, she suddenly realized that she had no idea who she was or where she was. And yet….

              #4742

              “Psst|! Glynis!” the muffled voice seemed to be coming from behind the smugwort bushes.

              With a sigh, she plonked the unappetizing looking casserole on the table, making it look heavier than it was. Sighing again, Glynis made her way out of the open kitchen door with a slow heavy tread. There it was again: “Glynis! Shhh! Over here!”

              For a brief moment she forgot all about feeling like a sloth in a concrete overcoat, and succumbed to a mild feeling of curiosity.

              “Who’s there?” she whispered, peering into the moonlit bushes. “Oh, it’s you|! Eleri, what the dickens are you doing lurking around in there?”

              “I’m, er, undercover,” Eleri replied. “Just tell me what’s going on, and be quick about it! I’m expected in another story any minute!”

              #4737
              ÉricÉric
              Keymaster

                “Oooh, isn’t that a funny place” Granola was surprised to have jumped in the odd unexplored corners of the story.
                “No wait, that’s just a rambling thread, not even a story… No matter.”

                While the paint was drying on the fresh developments, she had found herself slowed down and frozen in still frames while she was waiting for her friends to move the characters along. It was a rather unpleasant situation —granted, it was still a nice change from the erratic jumps from mental spaces to mental spaces.
                But, now it was getting boring, and when her monkey mind was getting bored, she started to shift again.
                She blinked back a few times; it was like hitting a refresh button to see if the characters had moved while she was gone, after all, her focus Tiku has her own agency. But since all time was now, it was really just a matter of tuning to the right frequency and follow the mood. Gosh, she started to think like Ailil; it wasn’t a comforting thought.

                “What is there to learn here? I’m obviously getting lost in sideway explorations.”

                She was familiar with the theory of the Hero’s Journey (or Heroine, thank you), and she found that progress and fun was often found in the most chaotic of places, exploring and transcending the unknown. Even if the natural tendency was to draw back to the known. But known is boring and stale, right?

                The Man in Pistachio was still somewhere around, with the Teleporter in Pink, and the Telepath in Teal. That much was known, but not much else.
                It was tempting to add more things to the known, like their names, and garments and things. How long before these known would lead to more forgotten things?

                Would she dare? After all, nobody was here to see and judge. And what’s more, it would beat the waiting for another plot advancement.

                She decided to be the Grinner in Bordeaux. Wait, that was too poetic, and too confusing… and too French.
                So, let us be the Red Woman in Grin.

                And she would be called Josette.

                #4732

                The day was young, and Mandrake was enjoying playing the cat in the Inn.
                Besides the benefit of unrepentant naps, what best way to be undercover in a dimension where talking cats where unheard of. His boots had been a subject for a casual chat during the breakfast, but he managed to get away with them, thanks to Arona’s quick wits who had explained he had sensitive paws.
                Some of the other guests at the Inn were a bit curious though, too curious.
                He’d almost jumped to rip his face off, when the Canadian guy asked whether it wouldn’t be best to have him neutered. Luckily, years of dealing with humans and dragons had left him with a patience for these types of shenanigans, even tolerating a pat or two on the head.

                The maid-who-wasn’t-a-maid was another story, she seemed to fear him, and chased him with a broom when he was wandering in the morning, looking for clues as to the key.
                While he was napping in a corner of the main hall on a dusted shelf near a silly looking fish, he had spotted a suspicious old man who had sneaked in and had done some business in a locked hangar before leaving. Maybe the man knew about the three words engraved on Arona’s key.

                doctor.experiences.funk

                #4730

                The vegetable garden was luxurious and greener after the rain. The trees were trembling with delight in the light afternoon breeze.

                Rukshan found Fox seated upright and legs crossed in between the courgettes and the purple cabbages. His eyes were closed and he didn’t flinch when the Fae approached.

                “Are you meditating?” asked Rukshan who wanted to get going on the mission already.
                “Kinda,” answered Fox without opening his eyes. “I’m using my imagination as a creative tool in order to make the carpenter show up and finish his work.” He breathed in deep and exhaled a humming sound.
                “I think you’re mistaken. It’s not about making the other do what you want.”

                Fox opened his eyes. “Don’t tell me what to do,” said Fox feeling a tad tense. “It’s a technique transmitted to me by Master Gibbon.”
                “I’m just saying…” began the Fae.
                “Oh! You’re happy, I can’t meditate now I’m too tense,” Fox bursted out.
                “I guess if you got tense that easily, you weren’t that relaxed in the first place.”

                Fox got up and squished a courgette. That seemed to put him into even more anger, but Rukshan couldn’t help laughing and Fox couldn’t keep angry very long. He walked on another courgette and laughed.
                “I don’t like courgettes,” he said.
                “I know. Glynis will not be very happy though if you crush all the vegetables.”
                “Yeah. You’re certainly right. When are we leaving?”
                “Mr Minn’s nephew, who’s a carpenter, was just visiting in the city and Margoritt asked them if they could help with the carpentry. You know how Mr Minn can’t resist her charms. They have collected the material from the other carpenter and they are coming tomorrow to finish the work. So we’ll be ready to go. I just have to convince Glynis to let Olli come with us.”
                “Margoritt is coming back?”
                “No. She’ll stay in the city. You know, her knees… and her sister being at the cottage.”
                “Oh! I had forgotten about her,” said Fox raising his eyes to the sky.

                #4725

                A wild eyed crow was cawing relentlessly since the wee hours of the dawn.
                Nothing much had moved since everyone arrived at the Inn, and in contrast with the hot days, the cool night had sent everyone shivering under the thin woolen blankets that smelled of naphthalene.
                Deep down, Bert was glad to see the old Inn come back to life, even if for a little while. He was weary of the witch though. She wouldn’t be here without some supernatural mischief afoot.
                He glanced in the empty hall, putting his muddy pair of boots outside, not to incur the fury of Finly. He almost started calling to see if anybody was home, but thought better of it. Speaking of the devil, Finly was already up and busy at the small kitchen stove, and had done some outstanding croissants. In truth, despite all her flaws, he liked her; she was a capable lady, although never big on sweet talks. No wonder she and Mater did get along well.
                Bert started to walk along the hall towards the hangar, where he knew old cases where stored, one with a particular book that he needed. It was hard to guess what would happen next. He found the book, that was hidden on the side of the case, and scratched his head while smiling a big wide grin.
                He was feeling alive with the kind of energy that could be a poor advisor were his mind not sharp as a gator’s tooth.

                The book had a lot of gibberish in it, like it was written in a sort of automatic writing. For some reason, after the termite honey episode, Idle had started to collect odd books, and she was starting to see spy games hidden in the strangest patterns.
                Despite being a lazy pothead, the girl was smart, though. Some of her books were codes.

                Bert’s had his fair run with those during his early years in the military. So he’d hidden the most dangerous ones that Idle had unwittingly found, so that she and the rest of the family wouldn’t run into trouble.
                Most of the time, she’d simply forget about having bought or bargained for them, but in some cases, there was a silly obsession with her that rendered her crazy about some of those books. Usually the girls, especially the twins, would get the blame for what was thought a child’s prank. Luckily her anger wouldn’t last long.

                This book though was a bit different. Bert had never found the coding pattern, nor the logic about it. And some bits of it looked like it talked about the Inn. “Encoded pattern from the future”, “remote viewing from the past”, Idle’s suggestions would have run wild with imaginative solutions. Maybe she was onto something…

                He looked a two bits, struck by some of the parts:

                The inn had been open for a long time before any of the tenants had come, and it had been full of people once it had been full all day long.
                She had gone back after a while and opened up the little room for the evening and people could be seen milling about.
                The rest of the tenants had remained out on their respective streets and were quiet and peaceful.
                ‘So it’s the end of a cold year.’
                The woman with golden hair and green eyes seemed to have no intention of staying in the inn as well; she was already preparing for the next year.
                When the cold dawn had started to rise the door to the inn had been open all night long. The young man with red hair sitting on a nearby bench had watched a few times before opening his eyes to see the man that had followed him home.

                There was a young red hair boy that had arrived. He was curious as to the man following.

                The other random bit talked about something else. Like a stuff of nightmares. And his name was on it.

                The small girl stood beside him, still covered with her night clothes. She felt naked by the side of the road. There was nothing else to do.
                In the distance, Bert could faintly hear the howling of the woods, as two large, black dogs pounced, their jaws ready to tear her to pieces. The young girl stared in wonder and fear before the dog, before biting it, then she was gone. She ran off through the bushes. “Ah…” she whispered to herself. “Why am I not alive?” She thought to herself: this is all I need.
                If I am here, they’ll kill or hurt my kids. They won’t miss me for nothing.
                She ran the last few kilometers to her little cottage; not long after, Bert heard the sound of the forest. He was glad it was.

                Maybe the witch was not here for nothing after all.

                #4719

                Granola suddenly popped back in the real world — the one with her friends she meant. Oh, this was all rather confusing. Looking around, she was feeling quite corporeal.

                “That can’t be right!”

                She looked around, feeling herself. That wasn’t her body, it was Tiku’s. Yet, if she was corporeal, did it mean she was in the mental space with the story characters? Boundaries seemed to blur. She took a spin around to get a feel of the space, and fell on her bum with an infectious laughter.
                Tiku was quite pliant and surprisingly accommodating of her in-that-body visits. It was as though they could converse, but it felt like a familiar voice of her own, not someone’s else.

                “I’m in the magical thread of their story, am I not? It’s all in their head…” She thought. She could feel Tiku’s mind there, laughing and answering back something about the Dreamtime, that it was all the same and connected anyway.
                “But it’s confusing as hell!” She liked a bit of order, and explanations in big bold letters.

                A jeep coming out from the horizon followed by dark billowing smoke braked noisily in front of her.

                “Hello there!” A girl was driving, wearing a sort of loose grey hijab, smiling at her.
                Tiku-Granola waved as her, still sitting on her butt.

                “Are you in trouble? No? Great. Listen, we’re looking for an Inn, it shouldn’t be very far from here. Our GPS is a piece of rubbish and is making us turn in rounds… Could you point us there, I’m afraid I took a wrong turn at the last fork in the road.”

                Granola left Tiku to reply, as she seemed to know exactly what to answer.
                “No Miss, you’re on the right road, it’s just a little ahead, you’ll find the old washed-out sign that points to the mines. Follow the sign until you reach the little brook, cross it and it’s on the left, 2 miles, then right, then…”

                Arona stopped the lady.

                “It seems a bit complicated, and my copilot here isn’t that good with memory riddles” she added pointing at Sanso. “Would you care to join us for that last mile.”

                “Sure, of course, I was planning to go back there anyways. Never seen such activity in a while. Seems they’ll need a bit of help there, with all the guests coming.”

                #4718

                “Tsk tsk,” said Rukshan when he heard that the carpenter hadn’t done anything yet.
                “At least the joiner came and fixed the mirror in the bathroom,” said Fox trying to sound positive.
                They were in the kitchen and Glynis was brewing a chicken stew in Margorrit’s old purple clay pot.
                Fox seemed distracted with saliva gathering at the corner of his mouth. Rukshan realised it was not the best of places to explain his plan with all the smells and spells of Glynis’ spices.
                “Let’s go outside it’ll be best to tell you where we are going,” said Rukshan.
                Fox nodded his consent with great effort.

                “If you go out, just tell Olli to bring in more dry wood for the stove,” said Glynis as they left.

                They took the Troll’s path, a sandy track leading in the thick of the forest.
                “Are you sure we’ll find him there?” asked Rukshan.
                “Trust me,” said Fox pointing at his nose.
                “I thought you had abandoned the shapeshifting and using your fox’s smelling sense?”
                “Well if you want to know, Olli is quite predictable, he’s always at the Young Maid’s pond.

                “I realise I haven’t seen the lad in months,” said Rukshan.
                Fox shrugged. “He’s grown up, like all kids do.”

                They arrived at the pond where Olli was sculpting a branch of wood in an undefinable shape. Rukshan had almost a shock when he saw how much little Olli had changed. He was different, almost another person physically. Taller and with a man’s body. It took the Fae some time when he had to tell himself that the person in front of him was the boy that had helped them in the mountain. But Rukshan was not the kind to show many emotions so he just said.

                “You’ve grown boy.”
                Olli shrugged and stopped what he was doing.
                “I’ve heard so,” he said. “She wants more wood?”
                “Yeah,” said Fox with a knowing grin.
                “Okay.”
                Olliver sighed and left with supple movements.

                When the young man was gone, Fox turned towards the Fae, whose eyes seemed lost in the misty mountains.
                “So, what is the plan?”
                “I’m thinking of a new plan that shall make use of everyone’s potential and save a young man from boredom.”

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              • “Psst|! Glynis!” the muffled voice seemed to be coming from behind the smugwort bushes. With a sigh, she plonked the unappetizing looking casserole on the table, making it look heavier than it was. Sighing again, Glynis made her way out of the open kitchen door with a slow heavy tread. There it was again: “Glynis! Shhh! Over ... · ID #4742 (continued)
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