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In reply to: Orbs of Madjourneys
Youssef had brought his black obsidian with him in the kitchen at breakfast. Idle—Youssef had realised that on top of being her way of life, it was also her name—was preparing a herbal brownie under the supervision of a colourful parrot perched on her shoulder.
“If you’re interested in rocks, you should go to Betsy’s. She’s got that ‘Gems & Minerals’ shop on Main street. She opened it with her hubby a few years back. Before he died.”
“Nutty Betsy, Pretty Girl likes her better,” said the parrot.
Idle looked at his backpack and his clothes.
“You seem the wandering type, lad. I was like you when I was younger, always gallivanting here, there, and everywhere with my brother. Now, I prefer wandering in my mind, if you know what I mean,” she said licking her finger full of chocolate. “Anyway, an advice. Don’t go down the mines alone. Betsy’s hubby’s still down there after one of the tunnels collapsed a few years back. She’s not been quite herself ever since.”
Main street was —well— the only street in town. They’ve been preparing for some kind of festival, putting banners on top of the shops and in between two trees near the gas station. Youssef stopped there to buy snacks that he stacked on top of the obsidian stone in his backpack. The young boy who worked there, Devan, seemed quite excited at the perspective of the Lager and Cart Race. It happened only every ten years and last time he was too young to participate.
The shop had not been difficult to find, at the other end of the street. A tiny sign covered in purple star sequins indicated “Betsy’s Gems & Minerals — We deliver worldwide”. He felt with his hand the black rock he had put in his backpack. If Idle had not mentioned the mines and the dead husband, Youssef might have reconsidered going in. But the coincidence with his dream and the game was too intriguing. He entered.
The shop was a mess. Crates full of stones, cardboard boxes and bubble wrappings. In the back, a plump woman, working on a giant starfish she held on her lap, was humming as she listened to loud rock music. Youssef recognised a song from the Last Shadow Puppets’ second album : The Element of Surprise. Apparently, the woman hadn’t heard him enter. She wore a dress and a hat sprinkled with golden stars, and her wrists were hidden under a ton of stone bracelets. The music track changed. The woman started shaking her head following the rhythm of the tune. She was gluing small red stones, she picked in a little box, on one of the starfish arms.“Bad Habits! Uhu. Bad Habits! Uhu.”
Youssef moved closer. His shadow covered the starfish. The woman raised her head and screamed, scattering the red stones in her workshop. The starfish fell from her lap onto the ground with a thud.
“Oh! My! Little devil. Look at what you made me do. I lost my marbles,” she said with a high pitched laugh. “Your mother never taught you? That’s bad habit to creep up on people like that. You scared the sheep out of me!”
“I’m so sorry,” said Youssef, getting on his knees to help her gather the stones.
When they were all back in their box, Youssef got back on his feet. The woman looked a him with a softened face.
“You such a cutie with your bear shirt. You make me think of my Howard. He was as tall as you are. I’m Betsy, obviously” she said with a giggle, extending her hand to him.
They shook hands, making the pearls of her bracelets clink together.
“I’m Youssef.”
Youssef didn’t need to insist too much. Betsy was a real juke box of gossips. He just had to ask one question from time to time, and she would get going again. He was starting to feel his quirk could be more than a curse after all.
“When the tunnel collapsed,” Betsy said, “I was ready to give up the stone shop. The pain was too much to bear, everything in the shop reminded me of Howard. And in a miners’ town, who would want to buy stones anyway. We’ve been in bad terms with Idle and her family for some time, but that tragic incident coincided with her brother Fred’s disappearance. They thought at first Fred had died in the mines with Howard, because they spent so much time discussing together in Room 8 at the Inn. I overheard them once, talking about something they found in the mines. But Howard never told me, he was so secretive about that. We even had a fight, you know. But Fred, the children found some message later that suggested he had just left the family. Imagine, the children! Idle was pissed with him of course. Abandoning her with that mother of theirs and that money pit of an Inn and the rest of the family. And I needed company. So we started to get together on a regular basis. She would bring her special cakes, and we would complain about our lives. At some point she got involved with that shamanic stuff she found online, and she helped me find my totem Bear. It was quite a revelation. Bear suggested I diversify and open an online shop and start making orgonites. I love those little gummy bears so much. So, I followed Bear’s advice and it has been working like a charm ever since. That’s why I trusted you straight away, lad. Not ’cause of your cute face. You got the Bear in your heart,” she said putting her finger at the center of his chest.
My inner Bear, of course, thought Youssef. That’s the magnet. His phone buzzed. He took it out and saw he had an alert from the game and a message from his friends.
You found the source of your quirk, the magnetic pull that attracts talkative people to you.
Now obtain the silver key in the shape of a tongue to fulfil your quest.Zara : Where are you!?
We’re at the bar, getting parched! They got Pale Ale!“I have to go,” said Youssef.
“Wait,” said Betsy.
She foraged through her orgonite collection and handed Youssef one little gummy bear and an ornate metal badge.
“Bear wants me to give this to you. Howard made it. He said it was his forked tongue key.”
She looked at him, emotion in her eyes.
“I know you won’t listen if I tell you not to. So, be careful when you go into the mines.”
In reply to: Orbs of Madjourneys
Two young women, identical to the purple lock of hair hiding their left eye, entered the room. They moved as one person to the table, balancing their arms and bouncing on the floor like little girls. Youssef couldn’t help a shiver as he remembered The Shining.
“We are the twins,” they said, looking at him from behind their purple lock of hair. “Don’t mind us.”
One spoke a few milliseconds after the other, giving their combined voice an otherworldly touch that wasn’t reassuring. One took the sheets of paper from under the obsidian stone and the other the notebooks. After an hesitation they left the stone on the table and went back to the door.
“Wait,” said Youssef as they were about to leave, “What was on that paper? It looked like a map.”
“We leave you the stone,” they said without looking at him. “You might need it.”
As they shut the door, Youssef jumped out of his bed and tried to catch up with them. People couldn’t just enter his room like that. But when he flung the door open, the corridor was empty. He had the impression echoes of a combined laugh remained in the air and, tired as he was, decided not to look for them. Better not break the veil between dream and reality.
Intrigued by what the girls said, he took the black stone from the table and the last snicker bar from his backpack. He noted he would have to go to the grocery store tomorrow to buy some. Once he was back on his bed, he engulfed the snack and, while chewing, turned the stone around, trying to figure out what the girls meant by “You might need it”. The stone was cold to the touch and his reflection kept changing but nothing particular happened. Disappointed, he put the stone on his pillow and resumed the game on his phone.
Youssef finds himself in a small ghost town in what looks like the middle of the Australian outback. He’s standing in the town square, surrounded by an old post office, a saloon, and a few other ramshackle buildings.
He had a hard time focusing on the game. He started to feel the fatigue from the day. He yawned and started to doze off.
Youssef is standing in the town square, surrounded by an old post office, a saloon, and a few other ramshackle buildings. Scraps of mist are floating towards him. A ghostly laugh resounds from behind. He turns swiftly only to see a flash of purple disappear in a dark alleyway. He starts to run to catch them but a man, thrown out of the saloon, stumbles in front of him and they roll together on the dust.
“It’s not that I don’t like you,” said the man, “but you’re heavy.”
Youssef rolls on the side, mumbling some excuses and looks at where the twins had disappeared but the alleyway was gone.
“I think you broke one of my rib with your stone,” says the man, feeling his chest.
He looks as old as the town itself and quite harmless in his clothes, too big for him.
“What stone?” asks Youssef.
The old man points at a fragment of black obsidian between them on the ground.
“Don’t show them,” he says, “or they’ll take it from you.”
“What did you do?”
“They don’t like it when you ask questions about the old mines.”
In reply to: The Jorid’s Travels – 14 years on
(TOC)
Chapter 2: A New Companion
Salomé: The vibrations look familiar.
Georges: Have we arrived, Jorid?
Jorid: Indeed Georges, we are nearing our destination. Salomé is correct in her interpretation, we are getting close to the planet you know as Duane, soon we will be close to the Luminjel temple location.
Georges: Really? It looks… different.
Jorid: This is again correct, we are at an earlier time than the one you knew. In fact, much earlier.
Salomé (turning to Georges): She seems to have taken your “back to the origins” prompt to the letter; Jorid, how far back are we?
Jorid: It seems it is not exactly as was intended. It is millenia before the Guardians arrived to the planetary system. Asari civilisation was permeating this system but it appears currently on the decline — accessing… — you may find local contact by the name of Andrimiñ. Their technology may assist in healing the case of knowledge poisoning.
Georges: Wait, what do you mean, not as intended?
Jorid: A creature seems to have attached itself to my hull, creating fluctuations in my directional array.
Georges: What now? Can you shake it off?
Jorid: It is not advisable. Suggesting manual investigation as the creature appears to be small and generally harmless.
Georges: Well, what can go wrong? Let me get my suit and I will go check it out.
In reply to: The Jorid’s Travels – 14 years on
Luckily for them, the sand structure with the nearby nests of snapping sand turtles was also a graveyard for the military drones that weren’t apparently programmed to register natural elements as threats.
They quickly found four of them who weren’t completely damaged, and with some technical assist from Jorid, Georges was able to repair the propulsion and deactivate the military programs and tracking beacons.
Klatu had some ropes in his speedster that they tied to their rudimentary drive and the drones, so they could carry Léonard’s body while he was still in stasis.
His vitals were generally positive, and Salomé kept checking on him, while Georges and Klatu managed attaching the odd assemblage of drones to their craft.
The ride back wasn’t as bad as the first time, maybe due to the extra cargo that made maneuvres more complex for their green driver.
“This is worth the detour. Seems like Klatu really wanted to save time and avoided to show us the scenic route the first time,” said Georges trying to break the tense worried silence.
Salomé smiled weakly “Léonard’s consciousness is embroiled into complex thoughts; they have to deal about some threat, the nature of which eludes me for now. It looks as though he’s absorbed some sort of forbidden knowledge, something potentially dangerous,” Salomé said to Georges. “I’m no longer as sure he was imprisoned for his punishment, but rather for protection…” she sighed. “for everyone else’s protection… I will feel better when we’re all back to the Jorid and we can run a full diagnosis.”
Georges looked at his friend apparently sleeping, and wrapped a loving arm around Salomé’s shoulder “It’s not going to be long now. He’s going to be fine.”
“Horrible doing business with you.” Klatu said as they parted, rubbing his hands together in gleeful satisfaction. Whatever the Jorid had organised as a deal for his payment, it seemed the added drones weren’t part of it and came as an extra bonus.
Inside the Jorid, while Salomé was setting up space for Léonard and making the preparation for the diagnosis, Georges looked at the tiles board, readying the craft for imminent departure.
A new tile had appeared, with a distinct pattern form, almost like an ogee.
“Jorid, is this new?”
“Indeed Georges, our adventure has inspired me to create new avenues of exploration.”
“Oh, that’s fresh.” Georges looked into the shifting symbol at its surface. After it stabilised, he could see there was a sort of spiral shell with forms reminiscent of the mocking turtles peeking out from the centre, surrounded by sand dunes.
“Jorid, tell me more please.”
“Sure, I’d call it ‘Sandshell‘. Do you want the full curriculum?”
“Absolutely, colour me intrigued!”
“The Sandshell:
Function: A reminder of the fragility of our perceived reality and the importance of questioning our assumptions
Families: Vold, Zuli, Ilda
Significance: The Sandshell represents the shifting and unstable nature of our beliefs, assumptions, and understandings. Like the sand that slips through our fingers, so too can our perception of the world around us be ephemeral and illusory. The image of the mock turtle serves as a reminder that we often live under assumed identities and in a world built on questionable foundations.
As advice: The Sandshell encourages one to question their beliefs and assumptions, to examine the foundations upon which they have built their reality, and to search for a deeper understanding of truth.
Depiction: The Sandshell can be depicted as a spiral shell with a mocking turtle peeking out from the center, surrounded by sand dunes. The sand symbolizes the instability of our perceptions and the turtle represents the assumed identities and neurotic fairy tales that make up our reality. The spiral form of the shell represents the journey of discovery and self-reflection.”“I love it,” said Georges enthusiastically “can we use it to plot our next course?”
“As a matter of fact we can Georges. Let me realign the grid and propose some suggestions. Do you have a seed thought to offer for this journey?”
Georges pondered for a while, when the image of the fishboard sprung forth in his mind. “Our little adventure is reminding me of our origins, Jorid —Léonard, working on the fishboard, your ancestor in a way… Us, finding Léonard… It feels like an adventure back to our origins. Can you project a destination on this vector…” then thinking at Salomé’s worried face “… that would be safe for our next stop, and allow us to find help for Léonard.”
“Verily.” Jorid answered back. “Course plotted. Please get comfortable until we arrive at our destination.”
In reply to: Orbs of Madjourneys
Xavier had woken up in the middle of the night that felt surprisingly alive bursting with a quiet symphony of sounds from nocturnal creatures and nearby nature, painted on a canvas of eerie spacious silence.
It often took him a while to get accustomed to any new place, and it was not uncommon for him to have his mind racing in the middle of the night. Generally Brytta had a soothing presence and that often managed to nudge him back to sleep, otherwise, he would simply wake up until the train of thoughts had left the station.
It was beginning of the afternoon in Berlin; Brytta would be in a middle of a shift, so he recorded a little message for her to find when she would get back to her phone. It was funny to think they’d met thanks to Yasmin and Zara, at the time the three girls were members of the same photography club, which was called ‘Focusgroupfocus’ or something similar…
With that done, he’d turned around for something to do but there wasn’t much in the room to explore or to distract him sufficiently. Not even a book in the nightstand drawer. The decoration itself had a mesmerising nature, but after a while it didn’t help with the racing thoughts.He was tempted to check in the game — there was something satisfactory in finishing a quest that left his monkey brain satiated for a while, so he gave in and logged back in.
Completing the quest didn’t take him too long this time. The main difficulty initially was to find the portal from where his avatar had landed. It was a strange carousel of blue storks that span into different dimensions one could open with the proper incantation.
As usual, stating the quirk was the key to the location, and the carousel portal propelled him right away to Midnight town, which was clearly a ghost town in more ways than one. Interestingly, he was chatting on the side with Glimmer, who’d run into new adventures of her own while continuing to ask him what was up, and as soon as he’d reached Midnight town, all communication channels suddenly went dark. He’d laughed to himself thinking how frustrated Glimmer would have been about that. But maybe the game took care of sending her AI-generated messages simulating his presence. Despite the disturbing thought of having an AI generated clone of himself, he almost hoped for it (he’d probably signed the consent for this without realising), so that he wouldn’t have to do a tedious recap about all what she’d missed.
Once he arrived in the town, the adventure followed a predictable pattern. The clues were also rather simple to follow.
The townspeople are all frozen in time, stuck in their daily routines and unable to move on. Your mission is to find the missing piece of continuity, a small hourglass that will set time back in motion and allow the townspeople to move forward.
The clue to finding the hourglass lies within a discarded pocket watch that can be found in the mayor’s office. You must unscrew the back and retrieve a hidden key. The key will unlock a secret compartment in the town clock tower, where the hourglass is kept.
Be careful as you search for the hourglass, as the town is not as abandoned as it seems. Spectral figures roam the streets, and strange whispers can be heard in the wind. You may also encounter a mysterious old man who seems to know more about the town’s secrets than he lets on.
Evading the ghosts and spectres wasn’t too difficult once you got the hang of it. The old man however had been quite an elusive figure to find, but he was clearly the highlight of the whole adventure; he had been hiding in plain sight since the beginning of the adventure. One of the blue storks in the town that he’d thought had come with him through the portal was in actuality not a bird at all.
While he was focused on finishing the quest, the interaction with the hermit didn’t seem very helpful. Was he really from the game construct? When it was time to complete the quest and turn the hourglass to set the town back in motion, and resume continuity, some of his words came back to Xavier.
“The town isn’t what it seems. Recognise this precious moment where everything is still and you can realise it for the illusion that it is, a projection of your busy mind. When motion resumes, you will need to keep your mind quiet. The prize in the quest is not the completion of it, but the realisation you can stop the agitation at any moment, and return to what truly matters.”
The hermit had turned to him with clear dark eyes and asked “do you know what you are seeking in these adventures? do you know what truly matters to you?”
When he came out of the game, his quest completed, Xavier felt the words resonate ominously.
A buzz of the phone snapped him out of it.
It was a message from Zara. Apparently she’d found her way back to modernity.
[4:57] “Going to pick up Yasmin at the airport. You better sleep away the jetlag you lazy slugs, we have poultry damn plenty planned ahead – cackling bugger cooking lessons not looking forward to, but can be fun. Talk to you later. Z”
He had the impulse to go with her, but the lack of sleep was hitting back at him now, and he thought he’d better catch some so he could manage to realign with the timezone.
“The old man was right… that sounds like a lot of agitation coming our way…”
In reply to: Orbs of Madjourneys
On her way back to her room Zara picked up a leaflet off the hall table about the upcoming lager and cart race. Before starting the game she had a look through it.
The leaflet also mentioned the competition held annually each January in Port Lincoln. The Tunarama Festival was a competition to determine just how far a person could chuck a frozen tuna. A full-fledged celebration was centered around the event, complete with a wide array of arts and cultural displays, other participation events, local market stalls, and some of the freshest seafood in the world.
There was unlikely to be any fresh seafood at the local lager and cart races, but judging from the photos of previous events, it looked colourful and well worth sticking around for, just for the photo opportunities.
Apparently the lager and cart races had started during the early days of the settler mining, and most of the carts used were relics from that era. Competitors dressed up in costumes and colourful wigs, many of which were found in the abandoned houses of the local area.
“The miners were a strange breed of men, but not all cut from the same cloth ~ they were daring outsiders, game for anything, adventurous rule breakers and outlaws with a penchant for extreme experience. Thus, outlandish and adventurous women ~ and men who were not interested in mining for gold in the usual sense ~ were magnetically drawn to the isolated outpost. After a long dark day of restriction and confinement in the mines, the evenings were a time of colour and wild abandon; bright, garish, bizarre Burlesque events were popular. Strange though it may seem, the town had one of the most extensive wig and corset emporiums in the country, although it was discretely tucked away in the barn behind a mundane haberdashery shop.”
The idea was to fill as many different receptacles with lager as possible, piling them onto the gaily decorated carts pulled by the costume clad participants. As the carts were raced along the track, onlookers ran alongside to catch any jars or bottles that fell off the carts before they hit the ground. Many crashed to the ground and were broken, but if anyone caught one, they were obliged to drink the contents there and then before running after the carts to catch another one.
Members of the public were encouraged to attend in fancy dress costumes and wigs. There were plenty of stationary food vendors carts at the lager and cart races as well, and stalls and tents set up to sell trinkets.
In reply to: Orbs of Madjourneys
The road was stretching endlessly and monotonously, a straight line disappearing into a nothingness of dry landscapes that reminded Youssef of the Gobi desert where he had been driving not too long ago. At regular speed, the car barely seemed to progress.
> O Time suspend thy flight!
Eternity. Something only nature could procure him. He loved the feeling, and compared to the more usual sand of Gobi, the red sands of Australia gave him the impression he had shifted into another reality. That and the fifteen hours flight listening to Gladys made it difficult to respond to Xavier’s loquacious self and funny jokes. After some time, his friend stopped talking and tried catching some signal to play the Game, brandishing his phone in different directions as if he was hunting ghosts with a strange device.
It reminded him he had to accept his next quest in a ghost town. That’s all he remembered. He could do that at the Inn, when they could rest in their rooms.
Youssef wondered if the welcome sign at the entrance of the town had seen better days. The wood the fish was made of seemed eaten by termites, but someone had painted it with silver and blue to give it a fresher look. Youssef snorted at the shocked expression on his friend’s face.
“It looked like it died of boredom. Let’s just hope the Innside doesn’t look like a gutted fish,” Xavier said.
An old lady showed them their rooms. She didn’t seem the talkative type, which made Youssef love her immediately with her sharp tongue and red cardigan. He rather admired her braided silver hair as it reminded him of his mother who would let him brush her hair when they lived in Norway. It was in another reality. He smiled. She saw him looking at her and her eyes narrowed like a pair of arrowslits. She seemed ready to fire. Instead she kept on ranting about an idle person not doing her only job properly. They each went to their rooms, Xavier took number 7 and Youssef picked number 5, his lucky number.
He was glad to be able to enjoy his own room after the trip of the last few weeks. It had been for work, so it was different. But usually he liked travelling the world on his own and meet people on his way and learn from their stories. Traveling with people always meant some compromise that would always frustrate him because he wanted to go faster, or explore more tricky paths.
The room was nicely decorated, and the scent of fresh paint made it clear it was recent. A strange black stone, which Youssef recognized as a black obsidian, has been put on a pile of paper full of doodles, beside two notebooks and pencils. The notebooks’ pages were blank, he thought of giving them to Xavier. He took the stone. It was cold to the touch and his reflection on the surface looked back at him, all wavy. The doodles on the paper looked like a map and hard to read annotations. One stood out, though which looked like a wifi password. That made him think of the Game. He entered it on his phone and that was it. Maybe it was time to go back in. But he wanted to take a shower first.
He put his backpack and his bag on the bed and unpacked it. Amongst a pile of dirty clothes, he managed to find a t-shirt that didn’t smell too bad and a pair of shorts. He would have to use the laundry service of the hotel.
He had missed hot showers. Once refreshed, he moved his bags on the floor and jumped on his bed and launched the Game.
Youssef finds himself in a small ghost town in what looks like the middle of the Australian outback. The town was once thriving but now only a few stragglers remain, living in old, decrepit buildings. He’s standing in the town square, surrounded by an old post office, a saloon, and a few other ramshackle buildings.A message appeared on the screen.
Quest: Your task is to find the source of the magnetic pull that attracts talkative people to you. You must find the reason behind it and break the spell, so you can continue your journey in peace.
Youssef started to move his avatar towards the saloon when someone knocked on the door.
In reply to: Orbs of Madjourneys
The road was stretching endlessly and monotonously, a straight line disappearing into a nothingness of dry landscapes that sounded a bit depressing. At regular speed, the car barely seemed to progress, and Youssef was rather serious at the wheel. Soon Xavier was left depleted of jokes to tell (even the bad ones which tended to come off easily with sleep deprivation), so he tried to catch some of the patchy network signal to reconnect where he’d left off on the game. There wasn’t much network, and all he could download in the car, even with the game in lo-fi mode, was a measly text message with the starter for his new challenge.
Your quest takes place in the ghost town of Midnight, where time seems to have stood still. The townspeople are all frozen in time, stuck in their daily routines and unable to move on. Your mission is to find the missing piece of continuity, a small hourglass that will set time back in motion and allow the townspeople to move forward.
A ghost town seemed apt indeed.
The welcome signs at the entrance of the town for their hostel were rather uninviting, but a festive banner mentioning the local “Lager and Carts festival” caught his attention. He counted the days. It would be next week-end; there was a good chance they’d still be there, the four of them. At least some action to look forward to!
When he and Youssef arrived at the Inn after that rather uneventful and terribly long drive, all they wanted was to get a shower and some sleep. Zara wasn’t back yet from her trip, but they both figured out they’d meet at breakfast in the morning.
The old lady with the sharp tongue had shown them their rooms rather unceremoniously; she was too busy ranting about an idle person not taking their *one job* seriously to care about details. Xavier almost asked for a wifi, but then thought better and decided to hold his question until he found someone to ask who was born in his century.
Xavier took room 7, and Youssef room 5.The rooms were quite nicely decorated. It reminded him of something he’d read in the plane from a commentary of the Bardo Thodöl:
In Tibetan the word for body is lü, which means “something you leave behind,” like baggage. Each time we say “lü,” it reminds us that we are only travelers, taking temporary refuge in this life and this body. So in Tibet people did not distract themselves by spending all their time trying to make their external circumstances more comfortable. They were satisfied if they had enough to eat, clothes on their backs, and a roof over their heads. Going on as we do, obsessively trying to improve our conditions, can become an end in itself and a pointless distraction. Would anyone in their right mind think of fastidiously redecorating their hotel room every time they booked into one?
— The Tibetan Book of Living and Dying
At least, he wasn’t feeling compelled to redecorate this room; it was perfect. The shared sanitaries, the boiler and the piping were another story, but that was probably coming from the same era as the owner, nice as she was.
After having unpacked his few belongings, and taken a hot shower, he laid on the bed looking at the ceiling, which was blank and made a nice contrast to the ornate walls full of colorful dots.
Luckily, searching through the signals available, he could see there was mostly one, and without any password. With the next neighbour a few miles away, no wonder nobody bothered with security.
He connected to AL to check a few parameters — there seemed to be some degenerescence in the programme output that wasn’t satisfactory, and he was wondering if some self-repair or training reinforcement mechanisms were missing. At the moment, nothing too pressing, but he would keep an eye on them.
Still no words from Yasmin… he thought drifting to sleep… I half expected her to be there already…
In reply to: Prompts of Madjourneys
Update & clarifications on the characters:
Looking at the avatars that Zara, Youssef, Xavier and Yasmin are using in VR.
Full name or real name in RL :: name in VR (
@nickhandle) description of avatar.- Zara Patara-Smythe :: Zara (
@zaraloon) is a 25-year-old woman of mixed heritage, her mother is Indian and her father is British. She has long, dark hair that she keeps in a sleek ponytail, dark brown eyes and a sharp jawline. She stands at 5’6″ and has a toned and athletic build. She usually wears practical clothing that allows her to move around easily, such as cargo pants and a tank top. - Xavier Olafsson :: Xavier (
@xavimunk) is a 27-year-old man of Norwegian and Danish descent. He has blonde hair that he keeps in a messy style, blue eyes, and a charming smile. He stands at 6’1″ and has a lean build. He is always seen wearing a colorful and bold clothing, such as a Hawaiian shirt and shorts. - Yasmin Ahmed :: Yasmin (
@yasminowl) is a 23-year-old woman of Egyptian descent. She has long, black hair that she keeps in a tight braid, dark brown eyes and a round face. She stands at 5’4″ and has a petite build. She usually wears conservative clothing, such as long skirts and blouses. - Youssef Ali :: Youssef (
@youssefbear) is a 26-year-old man of half Yemeni, half Norwegian descent. He has short, curly black hair, dark brown eyes and a square jawline. He stands at 6’2″ and has a muscular build. He usually wears comfortable clothing such as a t-shirt and jeans, and always has a backpack on his shoulder.
Full descriptions for real-life Zara, Yasmin, Youssef, Xavier:
Real Life Zara Patara-Smythe :: Zara is a 57-year-old woman who is an adventurous traveler and a passionate hobbyist. She has a full mane of gorgeous auburn hair that she keeps in a sleek ponytail, sparkling green eyes, and a warm smile that puts others at ease. She is of mixed heritage, her mother was Indian and her father was British. She is well-educated and well-off, either through an inheritance or a supportive and understanding husband. Zara is a lover of art, music, and history, and spends much of her time indulging in her passions. She is always eager to explore new places and meet new people, and her adventurous spirit often leads her to travel off the beaten path.
Real Life Yasmin Ahmed :: Yasmin is a 32-year-old woman who is kind, nurturing, and always puts others first. She has long, black hair that she keeps in a tight braid, almond-shaped brown eyes, and a warm smile that lights up a room. Born in Egypt, she grew up in a close-knit family and values the importance of community. She is a talented actress, who has kept her career a secret from those closest to her, in order to pursue a more fulfilling life working with children. Yasmin currently volunteers at an orphanage in Fiji, where she devotes herself to helping children in need.
Real Life Youssef Ali :: Youssef is a 34-year-old man who is driven, confident, and always up for a challenge. He has short, curly black hair, dark brown eyes, and a square jawline that gives him a strong and determined look. Born to a Yemeni father and a Norwegian mother, he has a unique blend of cultures that has shaped his world view. Youssef is a talented blogger, who has traveled the world in search of new and interesting stories to share with his audience. He is always on the go, with a backpack on his shoulder, ready for his next adventure.
Real Life Xavier Olafsson :: Xavier is a 36-year-old man who is bright, cheerful, and always looking for the positive in every situation. He has blonde hair that he keeps in a messy style, blue eyes, and a charming smile that never fails to win people over. Born to Norwegian and Danish parents, he has a love for the sea and an appreciation for the finer things in life. Xavier is an AI developer, who is working on a project he calls AL. He is always eager to share his ideas with others and is constantly seeking new and exciting opportunities.
In reply to: Prompts of Madjourneys
Zara is the main protagonist, and also the reluctant leader of the game. In RL, she is wandering off the trail nearby Arltunga, Australia, where she is visiting, staying at the small family run inn the Flying Fish Inn. Bert, the local handyman drove her there, told her specifically not to wander off, yet in search of where a mysterious compass she collected on the trail is leading, and egged on by her talking smart parrot “Beautiful Girl”, she goes off the trail to explore. The sun is still high, and she already started to hallucinate some hooded figures with blue frog-faces with jelly-bean carts.
Meanwhile, her friends Youssef and Xavier, just landed from abroad, are driving toward the rendez-vous spot at the Flying Fish Inn. The owners Mater and Idle don’t have any idea where Zara is.
Yasmin, the fourth friend in the group is still on her way from Fiji, bearing a message written in red on an envelope from a mysterious Fred, who we don’t know yet, but seems to be linked to Mater & Idle’s family.
What’s going to happen next to Zara? The game is encouraging her to explore her rudeness in a playful manner, in a medieval setting.
Provide a series of playful and fun actions for Zara, linking these contexts. You may incorporate Tiku, a wise and no-nonsense Aboriginal woman who may guide her though the Dreamtime challenges. Provide random keywords to each action in the list.Here is a list of playful and fun actions for Zara in the game:
- “Follow the Compass”: Zara can follow the mysterious compass she collected on the trail, as it leads her to new locations and challenges. Keywords: Adventure, Exploration, Mystery.
- “Converse with Beautiful Girl”: Zara’s talking smart parrot “Beautiful Girl” may provide humorous commentary and encouragement throughout her journey. Keywords: Humor, Personality, Support.
- “Solve Riddles with Tiku”: Tiku, the wise and no-nonsense Aboriginal woman, can guide Zara through the Dreamtime challenges. To do this, Tiku may present her with riddles or puzzles that she must solve to progress. Keywords: Wisdom, Intelligence, Spirituality.
- “Collect Items”: Zara can collect items along the way, such as artifacts or treasures that may help her in her journey or lead her to new discoveries. Keywords: Collection, Discovery, Help.
- “Play Music with Beautiful Girl”: Zara can play musical instruments with Beautiful Girl, creating an entertaining and musical interlude in her journey. Keywords: Music, Joy, Creativity.
- “Cook with Mater and Idle”: At the Flying Fish Inn, Zara can join Mater and Idle in the kitchen and help them cook traditional dishes from the region. Keywords: Cooking, Culture, Community.
- “Race with Youssef and Xavier”: Zara can engage in friendly races with Youssef and Xavier, such as foot races or cart races, as a way to pass the time and have fun. Keywords: Competition, Speed, Excitement.
These playful and fun actions can add variety and excitement to Zara’s journey and provide an opportunity for players to interact with the world and characters in new and unique ways.
🔁 Regenerate responseIn reply to: The Jorid’s Travels – 14 years on
“That’s all Jorid had to say?” Georges mused at the sudden philosophical quote that read:
And doesn’t this point to something fundamentally tragic about our way of life? We live under an assumed identity, in a neurotic fairy tale world with no more reality than the Mock Turtle in Alice in Wonderland. Hypnotized by the thrill of building, we have raised the houses of our lives on sand. This world can seem marvelously convincing until death collapses the illusion and evicts us from our hiding place. What will happen to us then if we have no clue of any deeper reality? (The Tibetan Book of Living and Dying)
“I don’t know about this Mock Turtle, but those snapping sand ones that have been lurking about do look rather nasty. We shouldn’t waste any more time.”
Klatu opined “Klatu agrees with your female, sand turtle are lovely traps of death. Come with me now!” He intimated them to run into a sand opening he’d just made.
“Let me guess,” Georges said, “is it the equivalent of a Zathu prison? What powerful people could Léonard possibly have rubbed the wrong way this time?”
“Not prison.” Klatu commented “Death sentence.”
Salomé pointed out a glowing twirl of sand shaped as an ovoid form, inside which a human form could be discerned. “That would explain why he’s not more guarded…”
They approached carefully, expecting some extra booby trap, but nothing seemed to react to their presence, not even the moving sand egg.
“Let me guess,” Georges said, expecting a chorus
“DIMENSIONAL MAGIC!”
Klatu shushed them “Quiet stupids! Sound waves attract good turtles.”
“Is our friend OK? How do we break the spell?” Salomé asked Klatu. “Can you help?”
Klatu took a few minutes to inspect the shape, hopping carefully around it, and probing with soft whistling sounds.
“Friend in stasis for now. Kept fresh for questioning… possible.”
“Then we must hurry, how can we free him? Can I brute force this?” Georges asked, looking around for something to pierce the sand barrier and hook Léonard out of it.
“Only if you like sushi friend.” Klatu said, raising shoulders. “No finesse these primates.”
Klatu moved around the shape, taking some tools from his belt and making some elaborate plaits of sounds, as if trying to match the energy signature of the sand prison.
After a first belt of soundwaves was wrapped around, it seemed as though a first layer of the spell broke, and sand rained back into the external construct they were it. But a thin layer was still there, shifting and pulsating, almost clear as glass, and sharp as a razor blade.
“Crude encoding, but solid. Need more time.” Klatu seemed exhausted.
Georges was getting anxious for some activity. “Houses built on sand… Well I guess Jorid didn’t find the best quote to help…”
Salomé who was sitting cross-legged, trying for some time to connect to Léonard in his stasis, turned to Georges in disbelief. “Georges, you’re a genius!”
“What now?”
“Jorid gave us the last bit we needed. Until death collapses the illusion and evicts us from our hiding place. Remember? It’s risky but that could work!”
“Oh, I see what you’re thinking about. It’s mad, and it’s brilliant at the same time, how do we go about this?”
“I can’t reach Léonard, but maybe the both of us can.” Salomé joined hands with Georges.
“If he’s like anything I remember, he’d be in his mental palace, his workshop on the Duane… or in Marseille… or with Madame Jamelie…”
“Focus, Georges!”
“Duane it is, that’s where he did his best work.”
“We need to focus our energy to make him appear dead to the construct. It’ll be easier if we can locate precisely where his mind wanders.” Salomé said.
“He’ll be there, I know it. Let’s do this!”
The two of them joined hands and melded their minds, one as always, turning into a dark mirror of the abyss, bending light unto itself, leaving the void of creation at the place where Léonard was suspended.
Klatu looked at the scene suspiciously, but started to giggle as he saw the last layer he couldn’t open finally shatter and dissolve to the ground.
“Little apes full of surprises,… very awful, so very awful.” he said approvingly.
As his friends rushed to him, Léonard was on the ground, inert, but apparently alive.
In reply to: Orbs of Madjourneys
Youssef hadn’t changed a bit since they last met in real life. He definitely brought the bear in the bear hug he gave Xavier after Xavier had entered the soft sandal wood scented atmosphere of the Indian restaurant.
It was like there’d seen each other the day before, and conversation naturally flew without a thought on the few years’ hiatus between their last trip.
As they inquired about each other’s lives and events on the trip to get to Alice Springs, they ordered cheese nan, salted and mango lassi, a fish biryani and chicken tikka masala and a side thali for Youssef who was again ravenous after the jumpy ride. Soon after, the discussion turned to the road ahead.
“How long to the hostel?” asked Youssef, his mouth full of buns.
Xavier looked at his connected watch “It’s about 1 and half hour drive apparently. I called the number to check when to arrive, they told me to arrive before sunset… which I guess gives us 2-3 hours to visit around… I mean,” he looked at his friend “… we can also go straight there.”
Youssef nodded. He seemed to have had already enough of interactions in the past day.
Xavier continued “so it’s settled, we leave after we finish here. According to the landlady, it looks like Zara went off trekking, she didn’t seem too sure about Zara’s whereabouts. That would explain why we heard so little from her.”
Youssef laughed “If they don’t know Zara, I can bet they’ll be running around searching for her in the middle of the night.”
Xavier looked though the large window facing the street pensively. “I’m not sure I would want to get lost away from the beaten tracks here. There’s something so alien to the scale of it, and the dryness. Have you noticed we’re next to a river? I tried to have a look when I arrived, but it’s mostly dried up. And it’s supposed to be the wet season…”
Youssef didn’t reply, and turned to the leftovers of the biryani.
Despite the offering to top it off with gulab jamun and rose ice cream, it didn’t take too long to finish the healthy meal at the Indian restaurant. Youssef and Xavier went for the car.
“Here, catch!” Xavier threw the keys to Youssef. He knew his friend would have liked to drive; meanwhile he’d be able to catch on some emails and work stuff. After all, he was supposed to remote work for some days.
In reply to: Orbs of Madjourneys
Rajkumar had named his car JUMPY because he said it reminded him of his mother country. He drove like they were in the chaotic streets of an Indian city. Youssef’s fist was clenched on the door handle, his knuckles white. He needed to hold on to something just as much as he was afraid of loosing the door.
He had never been so happy as when Rajkumar stopped in front of his cousin’s shop and restaurant.
“Just in time for the best butter chicken in all Alice Springs!” said Rajkumar, pointing to the restaurant on the left.Smells of greasy sauce, meat and spices floated in the air. Despite his legendary hunger, Youssef’s stomach started to protest from the recent treatment on the road. If he had had any doubt, he was sure now that he wouldn’t go on a trip in Jumpy with Rajkumar.
“Maybe I’ll go for the scarf first,” he said.
Rajkumar noded and pointed to the right, to a stout man squating in front of a pile of scarves.
“This is cousin Ashish. You can’t find a better shop in town for scarves,” said Rajkumar. He high fived his cousin who looked like a giant in comparison with the short guide. They talked for a long time in what Youssef assumed to be some Indian dialect. At some point, his guide pointed a finger at him and said : “This big man is looking for a red scarf. I told him you had the best quality in town. Hand made, right from India. Ashish buys and sells the best to the best only. I have to go park the car and tell my other cousin to prepare you a meal. Best Indian food in Alice.”
After he left, cousin Ashish showed Youssef in. At the entrance incense burned at the feet of a couple of colourful Hindu gods. The intoxicating smell reminded him of a stop at a temple during his last trip with the documentary team. The face of Miss Tartiflate jumped into his mind. He would have to take care of THE BLOG at some point, but for now, he was looking for a red scarf. The inside of the shop was as messy as a Mongolian bazaar. Clothes upon clothes, and piles of scarves everywhere.
“Red scarves are over there, said Ashish. Follow me.”
He was less talkative than his cousin, which was a welcome relief. He led Youssef to the back of the shop. On the wall, the portrait in black and white of an old Indian man was watching over their shoulder.
Ashish took one long red scarf and put it around his neck.
“You can touch, he said. Very good quality. Very light. Like you wear nothing.”
Youssef took the end of the fabric in his hand. It felt very silky and light to the touch.
“That’s perfect, I’ll take it”, he said.
His phone buzzed in his pocket. He took it out and checked his messages.
- 📨
[Quirk Land] NEW QUEST OPENED
Looking at the time, it was already noon. Xavier must have landed in Alice already. He started to type a message to his friend :
💬
Meet me for lunch at Todd Mall. Patel indian restaurant next to fabric shopIn reply to: Prompts of Madjourneys
Youssef offered the following quirk: “unwilling magnet for talkative people in need of listening” (setting in a ghost town).
Setting: A small ghost town in the middle of the Australian outback. The town was once thriving but now only a few stragglers remain, living in old, decrepit buildings. You find yourself in the town square, surrounded by the old post office, the saloon, and a few other ramshackle buildings.
Quest: Your task is to find the source of the magnetic pull that attracts talkative people to you. You must find the reason behind it and break the spell, so you can continue your journey in peace.
Direction to investigate: Start by talking to the residents of the town, they may have some information or insights on the strange happenings in the town. Explore the old post office and the saloon, they might hold the key to breaking the spell.
Characters to engage: The residents of the town, including the old timer at the saloon and the postmaster at the post office.
Tile to look for: A silver key in the shape of a tongue, symbolizing the power of speech.
Proof of insert in real life: Take a picture of yourself holding the key, and send it to the game master as proof of completion.
In reply to: A Dog and a Dig – The trenches of the Time Capsule
Potential Plot Arch
The uncovered box in the garden of Bob & Clara is a Time Capsule which was actually buried in the future, but mistakenly sent to the past. It has symbols etched on it, that activate some nano-technology.
Due to its contact with it, Bob starts recovering his memories, while retaining the hallucinations of his dead wife Jane, which actually become more credible and intense.Will Tarkin is actually a time traveler from the future, who came to live a simple life in the past, selling stone gargoyles at the local supermarket and rediscovering the ways of his ancestors.
With the box being found and opened at the wrong time, it creates unwanted attention from the Time Dragglers who need to intervene to prevent alterations of the timeline.
Contents of the box are in part encoded books of stories from local families and would have revealed important things about the past, Jane’s death, and Clara’s future.With Bob recovering his memories, it’s revealed Jane and Bob were actually also refugees from the future, but had aged naturally in the past, which is why Will seemed to recognize Bob. Bob was living in hiding from the Time Police, but with the box discovery, it changes everything. The box being opened at the wrong time disrupts the natural flow of events and starts causing unexpected consequences. This creates a complex web of relationships and events that must be untangled and understood in order to move forward.
With his recovering of mental capacities, Bob partners with Will in order to restore the natural flow of time, even if it means his mental health will deteriorate again, which he is happy to do while continuing to live the rest of his life span with his daughter.
Potential developments
Clara Meets the Mysterious Will
Nora finally reaches the little village where Clara and Bob live and is greeted by a man named Will
Will seems to know Bob from somewhere
Clara starts to feel suspicious of Will’s intentions and begins to investigateThe Power of Memories
Bob starts to have flashbacks of his past and begins to remember the connection between him, Will, and the mysterious time capsule
Bob realizes that Jane, his wife, had been keeping something from him and that the time capsule holds the key to unlocking the truth
Jane appears to Bob and urges him to tell Clara about their past and the significance of the time capsuleThe Truth Behind the Capsule
Nora, Clara, and Bob finally find the answers they’ve been searching for by opening the time capsule
The contents of the capsule reveal a shocking truth about Jane’s past and the reason behind her death
They learn that Jane was part of a secret society that protected ancient knowledge and artifacts and that the time capsule was meant to be opened at a specific time
The group realizes that they were meant to find the capsule and continue Jane’s work in protecting the knowledge and artifactsThe Ties Between Living and Dead
Bob comes to terms with Jane’s death and the role she played in their lives
Clara and Bob grow closer as they work together to continue Jane’s work and preserve the knowledge and artifacts
The group encounters obstacles but with the help of the spirits of the past, they are able to overcome them and succeed in their missionA Realization of the Past and Present
Clara, Bob, and Nora come to realize the power of memories and how they shape our present and future
They also learn that things never truly remain buried and that the past always finds a way to resurface
The group successfully preserves the knowledge and artifacts, ensuring that they will be passed down for generations to come
The story ends with Clara, Bob, and Nora sitting by the fire, reflecting on their journey and the lessons they’ve learned.In reply to: Orbs of Madjourneys
To Youssef’s standards, a plane was never big and Flight AL357 was even smaller. When he found his seat, he had to ask a sweaty Chinese man and a snorting woman in a suit with a bowl cut and pink almond shaped glasses to move out so he could squeeze himself in the small space allotted to economy class passengers. On his right, an old lady looked at the size of his arms and almost lost her teeth. She snapped her mouth shut just in time and returned quickly to her magazine. Her hands were trembling and Youssef couldn’t tell if she was annoyed or something else.
The pilote announced they were ready to leave and Youssef sighed with relief. Which was short lived when he got the first bump on the back of his seat. He looked back, apologising to the woman with the bowl cut on his left. Behind him was a kid wearing a false moustache and chewing like a cow. He was swinging his tiny legs, hitting the back of Youssef’s seat with the regularity of a metronome. The kid blew his gum until the bubble exploded. The mother looked ready to open fire if Youssef started to complain. He turned back again and tried to imagine he was getting a massage in one of those Japanese shiatsu chairs you find in some airports.
The woman in front of him had thrown her very blond hair atop her seat and it was all over his screen. The old lady looked at him and offered him a gum. He wondered how she could chew gums with her false teeth, and kindly declined. The woman with the bowl cut and pink glasses started to talk to her sweaty neighbour in Chinese. The man looked at Youssef as if he had been caught by a tiger and was going to get eaten alive. His eyes were begging for help.
As the plane started to move, the old woman started to talk.
« Hi, I’m Gladys. I am afraid of flying, she said. Can I hold your hand during take off ? »
After another bump on his back, Youssef sighed. It was going to be a long flight for everyone.
As soon as they had gained altitude, Youssef let go of the old woman’s hand. She hadn’t stopped talking about her daughter and how she was going to be happy to see her again. The flight attendant passed by with a trolley and offered them a drink and a bag of peanuts. The old woman took a glass of red wine. Youssef was tempted to take a coke and dip the hair of the woman in front of him in it. He had seen a video on LooTube recently with a girl in a similar situation. She had stuck gum and lollypops in the hair of her nemesis, dipped a few strands in her soda and clipped strands randomly with her nail cutter. He could ask the old woman one of her gums, but thought that if a girl could do it, it would certainly not go well for him if he tried.
Instead he asked the flight attendant if there was wifi on board. Sadly there was none. He had hoped at least the could play the game and catch up with his friends during that long flight to Sydney.
When the doors opened, Youssef thought he was free of them all. He was tired, his back hurt, and he couldn’t sleep because the kid behind him kept crying and kicking, the food looked like it had been regurgitated twice by a yak, and the old chatty woman had drained his batteries. She said she wouldn’t sleep on a plane because she had to put her dentures in a glass for hygiene reasons and feared someone would steal them while she had her eyes closed.
He walked with long strides in the corridors up to the custom counters and picked a line, eager to put as much distance between him and the other passengers. Xavier had sent him a message saying he was arriving in Sydney in a few hours. Youssef thought it would be nice to change his flight so that they could go together to Alice Spring. He could do some time with a friend for a change.
His bushy hair stood on end when he heard the voice of the old woman just behind him. He wondered how she had managed to catch up so fast. He saw a small cart driving away.
« I wanted to tell, Gladys said, it was such a nice flight in your company. How long have you before your flight to Alice? We can have a coffee together. »
Youssef mentally said sorry to his friend. He couldn’t wait for the next flight.
More developments
Chapter 3: The Journey becomes more eggciting
The Flovlinden Tree
The group reaches the Flovlinden Tree, a massive linden tree in the heart of Oocrane, which is said to be sacred and is attracting crowds of pilgrims.
They meet Olek, the old caretaker of the tree, who tells them the story of Saint Edigna. He explains how the tree is said to have magical healing properties, and how the tree is responsible for the sacred oil that the pilgrims come to collect.
However, Olek reveals that the secret of Saint Edigna is not what it seems. Edna, an old woman who has been living far from the crowd for thousands of years, is actually Saint Edigna.
Olek shares that Edna has been living in solitude for very long. He tells the group that if they want to learn more about the sacred tree and Edna, they must travel to her hidden home.
The four friends were shocked to hear that Edna was still alive and wanted to meet her. They asked Olek for directions, and he gave them a map that showed the way to Edna’s remote dwelling.
They bid farewell to Olek and set off on their journey to find Edna.A Run-In with Myroslava
The group comes across a former war reporter, Myroslava, who is traveling on her own after leaving a group of journalists. She is being followed by mysterious individuals and is trying to lose them by hunting and making fire in bombed areas.
Myroslava is frustrated and curses her lack of alcohol, wishing she could find a place to escape from her pursuers.
The group approaches Myroslava and offers to help her. She joins forces with them and together, they set off on their journey.
As they travel, Myroslava shares her experiences as a war reporter, and the group listens in awe. She explains how she has seen the worst of humanity, but also the best, and how it has changed her as a person.
Myroslava and the group continue their journey, with the former reporter becoming more and more determined to shake off her pursuers and continue on her own.A Visit with Eusebius Kazandis’ Relatives
The group reaches a small village where they are expected by relatives of Eusebius Kazandis, the cauldron seller that Rose has met at the Innsbruck fair.
The relatives tell the group about Kazandis and his business, and how he has been traveling the world, selling his wares. They explain how he has become a legend in their village, and how proud they are of him.
The group learns about Kazandis’ passion for cooking and how he uses his cauldrons to create delicious meals for his customers. They are also shown his secret recipe book, which has been passed down for generations.
The relatives invite the group to try some of Kazandis’ famous dishes, and they are blown away by the delicious flavors.
The group thanks the relatives for their hospitality and sets off on their journey, with a newfound appreciation for Kazandis and his love of cooking.A Surprising Encounter with Edna
The group finally reaches Edna’s hidden home, a small cottage in the middle of a dense forest.
As they approach the cottage, they are surprised to see Edna, who is actually the legendary Saint Edigna, standing outside, waiting for them.The four friends have finally arrived at Edna’s dwelling, where they learned about her vast knowledge of the families connected to her descendants. Edna showed them her books, and they were amazed to find that their own family was listed among her descendants. They were even more shocked to learn that they were related to President Voldomeer Zumbasky and Dumbass Voldomeer, who was said to be a distant relative and carpenter who made the President’s wooden leg. It was rumored that they shared a common ancestor, but in reality, they were possibly secret twins.
The Secret of Dumbass Voldomeer
The four friends were determined to find out more about Dumbass Voldomeer and his connection to their family. They learned that he lived in the small city of Duckailingtown in Dumbass, near the Rootian border. They also discovered that Dumbass Voldomeer had been enrolled to take the place of the President, who had succumbed from a mysterious swan flu virus, to which Dumbass Voldomeer was immune. As they set to Duckailingtown, they couldn’t help but wonder what other secrets and surprises lay ahead for them on this incredible journey.
In reply to: Orbs of Madjourneys
Although not one to remember dreams very often, Zara awoke the next morning with vivid and colourful dream recall. She wondered if it was something to do with the dreamtime mural on the wall of her room. If this turned out to be the case, she considered painting some murals on her bedroom wall back at the Bungwalley Valley animal rescue centre when she got home.
Zara and Idle had hit it off immediately, chatting and laughing on the verandah after supper. Idle told her a bit about the local area and the mines. Despite Bert’s warnings, she wanted to see them. They were only an hour away from the inn.
When she retired to her room for the night, she looked on the internet for more information. The more she read online about the mines, the more intrigued she became.
“Interestingly there are no actual houses left from the original township. The common explanation is that a rumour spread that there was gold hidden in the walls of the houses and consequently they were knocked down by people believing there was ‘gold in them there walls”. Of course it was only a rumour. No gold was found.”
“Miners attracted to the area originally by the garnets, found alluvial and reef gold at Arltunga…”
Garnets! Zara recalled the story her friend had told her about finding a cursed garnet near a fort in St Augustine in Florida. Apparently there were a number of mines that one could visit:
“the MacDonnell Range Reef Mine, the Christmas Reef Mine, the Golden Chance Mine, the Joker Mine and the Great Western Mine all of which are worth a visit.”
Zara imagined Xavier making a crack about the Joker Mine, and wondered why it had been named that.
“The whole area is preserved as though the inhabitants simply walked away from it only yesterday. The curious visitor who walks just a little way off the paths will see signs of previous habitation. Old pieces of meat safes, pieces of rusted wire, rusted cans, and pieces of broken glass litter the ground. There is nothing of great importance but each little shard is reminder of the people who once lived and worked here.”
I wonder if Bert will take me there, Zara wondered. If not, maybe one of the others can pick up a hire car when they arrive at Alice. Might even be best not to tell anyone at the inn where they were going. Funny coincidence the nearest town was called Alice ~ it was already beginning to seem like some kind of rabbit hole she was falling into.
Undecided whether to play some more of the game which had ended abruptly upon encountering the blue robed vendor, Zara decided not to and picked up the book on Dreamtime that was on the bedside table.
“Some of the ancestors or spirit beings inhabiting the Dreamtime become one with parts of the landscape, such as rocks or trees…” Flicking through the book, she read random excerpts. “A mythic map of Australia would show thousands of characters, varying in their importance, but all in some way connected with the land. Some emerged at their specific sites and stayed spiritually in that vicinity. Others came from somewhere else and went somewhere else. Many were shape changing, transformed from or into human beings or natural species, or into natural features such as rocks but all left something of their spiritual essence at the places noted in their stories….”
Thousands of characters. Zara smiled sleepily, recalling the many stories she and her friends had written together over the years.
“People come and go but the Land, and stories about the Land, stay. This is a wisdom that takes lifetimes of listening, observing and experiencing … There is a deep understanding of human nature and the environment… sites hold ‘feelings’ which cannot be described in physical terms… subtle feelings that resonate through the bodies of these people… It is only when talking and being with these people that these ‘feelings’ can truly be appreciated. This is… the intangible reality of these people…..”
With such strong ancestral connections to the land, Zara couldn’t help but wonder what the aboriginal people felt about all the mines. If one of their ancestors had shape changed into rocks, and then some foreignors came along and hacked and blasted their way through, what would they think of that?
“….many Aboriginal groups widely distributed across the Australian continent all appeared to share variations of a single (common) myth telling of an unusually powerful, often creative, often dangerous snake or serpent of sometimes enormous size closely associated with the rainbows, rain, rivers, and deep waterholes…..”
She drifted off to sleep thinking of water holes in red rocky gorges, the book laying open in her hand.
When she awoke the next morning with the slatted morning sun shining through the venetian blinds, the dream image of the water hole was bright and clear in her minds eye. But what was that strange character from the game doing in her dream?
She closed her eyes, remembering more of the strange dream. Deeply orange red boulders and rocky outcrops, shivering gum trees, and green pools ~ it was coming back to her now, that creature in the blue robes had appeared more than once. In one scene he appeared with a blue diamond lantern with what looked like a compass inside.
I’ll ask about the hiking trails today, Zara decided, and go for a walk in that gorge I read about yesterday. Bert said there were good hiking trails. You came here early so you could play the game, she reminded herself.
“It’s all a game,” she heard the parrot outside her window.
“I’d forgotten about the bloody parrot!” Zara said under her breath. “Pretty Girl!” she said, opening the blinds. “We’re going out for a walk today.”
In reply to: Orbs of Madjourneys
Youssef gave his passport and ticket to the woman at gate 11. He was followed closely by Kyle and other members of the team. The flight attendant looked at him and gave him his passport and ticket back without scanning them with her machine.
“I’m sorry, you’re at the wrong gate. Your flight is at gate 8,” she said.
“But I’m going to Boston. My ticket says gate 11.”
Youssef showed his ticket to the hostess, and she pointed the destination and the gate to him. She was right.
“Your ticket is for flight AL357 to Sydney. It’s currently boarding at gate 8. Next person please.”
Kyle patted him on the shoulder.
“You should have double checked your ticket, he said.”
“What’s wrong? asked Miss Tartiflate. Why are you going to Australia?”
“I’m not.”
“Well, it says you are,” she said pointing at the ticket. He didn’t understand the dark intensity of her gaze and her clenched fist, until he remembered that Botty Banworth lived there.
“I’m not… I mean…”
“You better not. If I hear you were in with that…”
The words got lost as they broadcasted a call for flight AL357 to Sydney at Gate 8.
“You’d better get that f…ing BLOG running during your little vacation or you can stay there and forget about your job,” she said before bumping into the border of the gate.
Youssef moved on the side and looked at his ticket to Sydney, puzzled. When he passed security his ticket was to Boston. He recalled a message from Zara saying she would meet them in Australia soon. But how could she have managed to change his ticket without his knowing.
Sure there was that moment when he had left his passport with his ticket on the table at the Starmoose when going back to the counter pick his second slice of cinnamon apple tart. But he was looking away only for a few seconds.
“This is the last call for flight AL357 to Sydney. Youssef Ali is requested at Gate 8 before we close the gate.”
“Let’s just hope whomever made the change thought about transferring my luggage to the right plane,” he said as he started walking to Gate 8 with his bag.
In reply to: Orbs of Madjourneys
It was a pleasant 25 degrees as Zara stepped off the plane. The flat red land stretched as far as the eye could see, and although she prefered a more undulating terrain there was something awe inspiring about this vast landscape. It was quite a contrast from the past few hours spent inside mine tunnels.
Bert, a weatherbeaten man of indeterminate advanced age, was there to meet her as arranged and led her to the car, a battered old four wheel drive. Although clearly getting on in years, he was tall and spry and dressed in practical working clothes.
“Welcome to Alice,” he said, taking her bag and putting in on the back seat. “I expect you’ll be wanting to know a bit about the place.”
“How long have you lived here?” Zara asked, as Bert settled into the creaky drivers seat and started the car.
Bert gave her a funny look and replied “Longer than a ducks ass.” Zara had never heard that expression before; she assumed it meant a long time but didn’t like to pursue the question.
“All this land belongs to the Arrernte,” he said, pronouncing it Arrunda. “The local aboriginals. 1862 when we got here. Well,” Bert turned to give Zara a lopsided smile, “Not me personally, I aint quite that old.”
Zara chuckled politely as Bert continued, “It got kinda busy around these parts round 1887 with the gold.”
“Oh, are there mines near here?” Zara asked with some excitement.
Bert gave her a sharp look. “Oh there’s mines alright. Abandoned now though, and dangerous. Dangerous places, old mines. You’ll be more interested in the hiking trails than those old mines, some real nice hiking and rock gorges, and it’s a nice temperature this time of year.”
Bert lapsed into silence for a few minutes, frowning.
“If you’da been arriving back then, you’da been on a camel train, that’s how they did it back then. Camel trains. They do camel tours for tourists nowadays.”
“Do you get many tourists?”
“Too dang many tourists if you ask me, Alice is full of them, and Ayers Rock’s crawling with ’em these days. We don’t get many out our way though.” Bert snorted, reminding Zara of Yasmin. “Our visitors like an off the beaten track kind of holiday, know what I mean?” Bert gave Zara another sideways lopsided smile. “I reckon you’ll like it at The Flying Fish Inn. Down to earth, know what I mean? Down to earth and off the wall.” He laughed heartily at that and Zara wasn’t quite sure what to say, so she laughed too.
“Sounds great.”
“Family run, see, makes a difference. No fancy airs and graces, no traffic ~ well, not much of anything really, just beautiful scenery and peace and quiet. Aunt Idle thinks she’s in charge but me and old Mater do most of it, well Finly does most of it to be honest, and you dropped lucky coming now, the twins have just decorated the bedrooms. Real nice they look now, they fancied doing some dreamtime murials on the walls. The twins are Idle’s neices, Clove and Corrie, turned out nice girls, despite everything.”
“Despite ….?”
“What? Oh, living in the outback. Youngsters usually leave and head for the cities. Prune’s the youngest gal, she’s a real imp, that one, a real character. And Devan calls by regular to see Mater, he works at the gas station.”
“Are they all Idle’s neices and nephews? Where are their parents?” Perhaps she shouldn’t have asked, Zara thought when she saw Bert’s face.
“Long gone, mate, long since gone from round here. We’ve taken good care of ’em.” Bert turned off the road onto a dirt road. “Only another five minutes now. We’re outside the town a bit, but there aint much in town anyway. Population 79, our town. About right for a decent sized town if you ask me.”
Bert rounded a bend in a eucalyptus grove and announced, “Here we are, then, the Flying Fish Inn.” He parked the car and retrieved Zara’s bag from the back seat. “Take a seat on the verandah and I’ll find Idle to show you to your room and get you a drink. Oh, and don’t be put off by Idle’s appearance, she’s a sweetheart really.”
Aunt Idle was nowhere to be found though, having decided to go for a walk on impulse, quite forgetting the arrival of the first guest. She saw Bert’s car approaching the hotel from her vantage point on a low hill, which reminded her she should be getting back. It was a lovely evening and she didn’t rush.
Bert found Mater in the dining room gazing out of the window. “Where the bloody hell is Idle? The guest’s outside on the verandah.”
“She’s taken herself off for a walk, can you believe it?” sighed Mater.
“Yep” Bert replied, “I can. Which room’s she in? Can you show her to her room?”
“Yes of course, Bert. Perhaps you’d see to getting a drink for her.”
- Zara Patara-Smythe :: Zara (
