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  • #2804

    In reply to: Snowflakes of Tens

    ÉricÉric
    Keymaster

      The wind was blowing strongly between the leaves, making ruffling sounds that were almost intelligible.
      The leaves were talking, like a chatter in a room full of people. He could hear them talking, saying various things.
      The smell of smoke of a nearby field, and the muffled sound made him long for a fresh beer at the local tavern. :beer:
      He could hear the voices becoming stronger, and as he walked under the becoming shade of the evergreens, he was hearing words and even sentences.
      That one was talking about her grandchild, this one about the rain and the poor weather this summer, another one about bohaha, whatever that was. Another flute-like voice was softer yet stronger than the others, as though it was directed at him. It said “… and all you have to do, truly, is to feel yourself into the dream, then you’ll know intimately what the next door is, and where it is leading you…”
      For him, it was to the pub.

      #2690

      In reply to: Strings of Nines

      Evangeline Spiggot sat outside the DDT bosses office, nervously twiddling her pony tail. She had no idea why she’d been summoned, but the tone of the memo was ominous. Eventually her boss, The Right Honourable B. F. Deale, was ready to see her.

      “What ho!” said Evangeline, in an effort to sound breezy and efficient.

      B.F. Deale glared. “Can you explain yourself?” he asked grimly.

      “Why, yes, sir! Sumari belonging, Ilda aligned, politic….”

      “I’m talking about DDT!” he shouted. “You’ve been diverting all our disaster damage calls to that ridiculous channeling show!”

      “Ah” she replied, “Yes, well, it seemed much more fun.”

      “Ah” replied B.F. Deale, momentarily non plussed. When he’d finsished unnecesarily shuffling some papers around on his desk, he continued. “Well, what about the disaster damage team? Hhhm? How are they supposed to, er, deal with disasters if they don’t even know about them?”

      Evangeline paused, giving the impression that she was deep in thought. In actual fact, she was deep in no thought, due to the influence of the Dead Dick Tracy channeled messages.

      “Well, sir, perhaps this indicates a changing trend towards having more fun and less disasters? Perhaps we could diversify, start our own Fun Department?”

      “By George, I think you’re on to something, Spiggot! I will hire someone to investigate this trend.”

      “Might I suggest Blithe Gambol, P.I.? Very hightly recommended, so I hear.”

      #2688

      In reply to: Strings of Nines

      ÉricÉric
      Keymaster

        With a temper he may have inherited from his mother (albeit adoptive), the shanghaied boy was proving to be quite a hassle to contend with. Minky was exhausted.

        First Yikes (that was the given name of the boy) had cried, pouted, and when gagged enough so that he wouldn’t be heard, he had then refused to walk, and even threatened to hold his breath till he would die. Good luck with this one, had laughed Minky (who had tried it before, but it never worked, and bossy old Messmeerah had promptly kicked him back to work). Actually, he was more annoyed with the refusing to walk kind of tantrum, because that meant he had to trudge with the boy on his back or on a luge, all the way to the evil lair —which wasn’t that evil, by the way, if you managed to focus away from the bloody stained altar…

        But there was something more serious he was quite anxious about —besides his bossy and irritable, though everlastingly beauteous, boss. He feared a certain purple dragon was on their trail…

        If I were you, came the ruffled sound from the makeshift luge that wouldn’t be the dragon I’d be worried about… Yikes was inwardly beautifully laughing (a trait he may have inherited by osmosis from Arona) thinking of how terrible Mandrake could be if asked to fetch something —a task he was too proud to refuse, and yet that he loathed to accomplish, as it was more fit to a canine than to his subtle feline standard.

        #2686

        In reply to: Strings of Nines

        TracyTracy
        Participant

          “Fish” said Raxie when asked what she would like for her Fragmentation Day lunch. Fish synchronicities had been sprouting up all over the plaice, sturgeoning you might say, if you were wanting to include the word burgeoning, burgeoning like the gnarly old grape vines waking up and unleashing green on the chalky hills.

          “The synchronicities and connections were like individual blades of grass turning into a meadow, singing and sighing as one in the breezes,” Elizabeth replied.

          “Well this is my own personal meadow” Raxie pointed out “These are all mine”.

          “Oops”

          “Who said that?”

          “Was it that guy over there in the bowler hat and checkered past?”

          “Don’t mention checkered pasts!” Elizabeth exclaimed, “Or the Ooh Dimension! You’ll open the sluice gates….”

          “Antidisestablishmentarianism”

          “Who said that?” Elizabeth and Raxie exclaimed together.

          “I don’t know, but that guy in the bowler hat’s disappeared, and can you see that fellow starting to appear over there? Must be a multidimensional Port Hole or something…”

          “Well, we know what a Froopish and fabulously magical place this is, so it stands to reason…”

          “Reason?” Raxie and Elizabeth were reduced to giggles at the very idea of reason having any standing.

          “A portal to the Froop dimension, here? Wow! Can I see?”

          “You’ll have to wear these goggles. And it will require some stamina, are you sure?”

          “Of course I’m bloody sure” replied Elizabeth tartly. And then she began to intuit something.

          “I don’t need googles*, silly!” she laughed. “I already AM multidimensional, I don’t need anyone elses googles. But it’s ok if you want to wear the googles” she added, not wishing to sound judgemental.

          “Actually, I like this amethyst crystal myself, I like the frequency. I have dreams of amethyst sometimes, they are a delight.”

          “Come and look at this sunset if you want to see a delight,” said Raxie, who was still a bit miffed about the goggles. “Who needs another dimension when we’ve got this one?”

          Elizabeth sighed with speechless awe at the spectacular sunset, a reflection of all her colours, and all her dear ones colours, all blended together with magic aqua and sparks of blue and tones of orange blossom.

          #2438

          AAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!
          Screamed the furry ball without notice in what seemed to the Mother Blubbit’s lonely ear the most piercing sound she’d ever heard.
          She was startled and threw that furry ball far away in another tunnel, the one leading to the lava chamber. Something in her inner alchemy had been altered with her moment of panic, one of the baby blubbit would be different for sure.
          That’s when she realized she had visitors.

          #2437

          Deep within the Furcano, the Mother of the Blubbits was growling. Her belly actually. She’d spent days and days, like every good blubbit alien mother, spawning a furry and ungrateful progeny.

          For each of the blubbits captured and slaughtered, she was compelled to balance the loss. Balance was her motivation —at first. Now she was starting to think that maybe drowning them in baby blubbits would be a better and quicker way to end their (and her) suffering.

          That was at that precise moment that something round and hairy rolled at her feet with a funny movement and strange soft sounds. How funny she thought, she suddenly felt compelled to balance that odd thing on her nose.

          Imagine the expression (yes you’d have to imagine it, because they didn’t have one) on the faces of our favorite Peaslanders when they came into the cave running after the rolling head to see said head balanced on the nose (pink and soft) of a giant and furry Mother Blubbit.

          #2436

          “I think they’re lost beyond hope” Muckus went back reporting to the evil Majorburgmester
          “Oh good!”
          “Probably more hopelessly lost than being in the Eighth if you ask me, last time I checked on them, there was a woman running for her head to the Furnace of the Furcano, and all the others following her…”
          “Sounds hairy.” the Major couldn’t help but add with a smirk on his face (framed and hanged to the wall) and a twitch in his left nostril.

          #2419

          “Cor blimey, Shar. That bloody course did bloody wonders for your speaking. Proper high class you sound! And all bloody philosophic like too! Sand eh? Who’d of bloody thought”

          Glor gazed at her friend in stunned wonderment.

          #2659

          In reply to: Strings of Nines

          “Bugger” said Sanso, rather bad-temperedly, but after all he had been practising for 57 days without a break. ‘I am never going to sound as melodic as that Vincentius.”

          #2075

          In reply to: Scrying the Word Cloud

          TracyTracy
          Participant

            Although done,
            Stranger, mother, everyone, creature
            looks attention:
            Girl, perfect black.
            Ask, perhaps himself free?
            Smile rude.
            Notice Leormn Fellowship Idea,
            “Eye write”
            Box teleport.
            Heard wonder, let Sharon replied.
            Random asked matter:
            Strange sudden (usually inside) particular finally… surely feeling sound, following home… clear…

            Realized, somewhat
            Hear happy laugh
            Mention hot ones
            Magic voice
            :creating_magic:

            #2657

            In reply to: Strings of Nines

            ÉricÉric
            Keymaster

              Yikesy didn’t want to sound ungrateful, nor did he want to hurt Arona’s feeling (all matters of age were a touchy subject at home, even and especially for ageless Arona), nevertheless he did find her a tad on the mother hen side.
              After all, he was nearly 18 now.

              #2404

              That silly Mayor’s idea suddenly found an unexpected and potentially interesting grace at the eye of Fwick the saucerer.

              After all, without having to go as far as frying the poor thing in breadcrumbs, some backing powder and yeast would actually do a lot of good to boost the immune system of the little spider…

              His thought felt almost disturbed by a squeaking sound followed by a muffled squeaghing, coming from the matchbox in his hands.

              #1317

              In reply to: Yuki’s Livrary

              ÉricÉric
              Keymaster

                January 21 st, 2010

                About Worlds creating and dreamwalking

                Has it occurred to you that your current technologies [such as social websites] are more than a little reflection of what you are doing as essence.
                It is more indeed, and very useful as an analogy.
                You have, for one, certainly noticed how different the “feel” of certain of these “sites” is, even when you are most of the time surrounded by the same set of friends and relationships? Yes you have.

                Let us call these sites “dimensions”. Yes, it sounds familiar, doesn’t it. You all participate in some manner into these, and you all have persona of yourself in various of these. They compete for your attention, and some of them are more popular than others —these are the ones which offer you the most fulfilling experience, not necessarily the most pleasant.

                In many ways, you connect as essence through these dimensions, which reveal aspects of your personalities, aspects that are not always visible or noticed in a direct interaction. When you congregate through these sites, you also start to realize, you have access to all of the others as essence, either through proxy of friends, or by direct interaction. You are all connected.

                They all have different rules, or shall we say, conventions; you can do certain things, certain others you cannot (or not yet), and others, you can, but they are not well tolerated or accepted.
                We let you do all the fine analogies, you mostly get the idea. The technical rules behind those sites are like your mass beliefs. They are helpful to maneuver your “avatar” —that focus of yourself inside the system— and without them, there would simply be no interest, no interaction, no experience.
                Of course, these beliefs can be bent ; with applications, made by these people wanting to develop new systems plugged into the architecture, to offer new functions, or interactions with others of these sites or dimensions.

                The creators of these dimensions are similar to dreamwalkers; some of them are bent on technology and development of the system at its core, but not all of them. Many in fact come with other intents, such as making the dimension a more beautiful, interactive, attractive or pleasant place. They all work together to bring the experience of the envisioned dimension to the other essences —and at some point, they also choose, themselves to interact, as a focus, fully part of their created dimension.

                Having that in mind, would it not seem natural that you would integrate more functionalities to these sites, if they respond to the promises of keeping focuses interested? What you call “upgrades” are in fact a major part of the conception of these dimensions, and occur quite frequently, either driven by popular demand, or by technical need.
                Such is the nature of the shift you are experiencing, which is above all a tremendous upgrade [of mass beliefs] towards a more integrated experience, without simply dropping the current dimension for another.

                We would finally like you to notice also that even if the biggest of these dimensions are calling for a great part of your attention, you also are attracted daily to countless others, little sites and areas, the purpose of which is different, but not less significant to your whole self.

                #2400

                Phurt knew there was something strange, her previous memory was that she was dead and now she seemed to be perfectly alive and alert.
                The environment was strange, though. It was all full of little balls and she could see many headless people. Compared to them, her size was quite ridiculous and she prefered not to make her presence known for the moment. She will have time later for her projects of conquest of the world. But is what world was she?

                All at her thinking, she didn’t see the creature coming and she almost died again out of fear when it began to breath in the air around. Maybe it was some kind of hoovering creature. She began to feel the vibrations as the dog (who has his head on for a change) began barking to notify his master that he has found the strangest little creature aroud. The master of the dog was a child of New Peasland and when he saw that strange little creature that he had never seen before, he called for his mother, who in turn didn’t know the little creature at all, and she asked her neighbor what it could be, but the neighbor didn’t know as well, so the went together to the mayor who in turn didn’t know what to think of it, but he was sure it had not been spotted before by a mayor of New Peasland, he would be the first, and he asked the kid to entrust him with his find and that he would tell him soon about it, thank you!

                All alone in her matchbox, Phurt started to relax, the last few event had been frightening and she couldn’t do anything to escape her assailants, but the eventually let her alone, even if it was in some kind of jail.

                MOUAAHAHAHAHAH, she laughed of her little spider laugh, which resembled more to a little squircking sound than to a laugh, especially in the New Peasland dimension. She had laughed because the walls of her prisons seemed quite tender and it would not demand her too much effort to get out. But for now, she was exhausted and needed some rest. It was not everyday that you found yourself alive again.

                #2394

                The poor Peaslanders were utterly disoriented by the blatant lack of sense in the Eighth Dimension. It was such a blessing they had for most of them already lost their head, kept safe by a dear member of the family.

                Once in front of them, the glowing figure uttered ominously:

                “opened everyone eye ball,
                Worserversity nonsense portal deep
                sheila Elizabeth bird gone surprise
                come speak thread
                face cat Godfrey later create”

                And then the figure disappeared in a fit of oink oink’s.

                “I think it’s her shoes that make the strange sucking sounds in the mud” aptly remarked little Pickel.
                “How come you know it was a ‘her’, it could have been a cloud as far as I know…” retorted Autie Toot who never got a chance to get a good look, with her head upside down in her arms.

                “Silence!” ordered Pee Stoll more raucously than he had wished to “We need to concentrate! This riddle may be the clue to the plague of blubbits, can’t you see?!”
                “Well… It’s not that easy, you know” Auntie Looh objected sheepishly, while still struggling with her garments as well as with her head.

                “I think it’s fairly simple” ventured S’illy (whom nobody ever listened to, probably owing to her tender age as well as her melodious voice) “We got to find the Worseversity, they probably have worked on a cure; our contacts there will be a sheila called Elizabeth… and a Godfrey will provide a cat to eat the bird and put us back to our dimension…”

                “Darn riddle!” sweared Pee furiously who hadn’t paid any attention “It’s probably just another bunch of nonsense!”
                “I guess we’ll just go anywhere then!” merrily suggested the Aunts each going in opposite directions while the bird rolled its eyes.

                #2651

                In reply to: Strings of Nines

                While Malvina had been enjoying the fishy delicacies of Olliburthon, she had gathered again a sense of purpose.
                “Not quite yet, but working on it…” she snapped at Leörmn, who was always quick to point out what wasn’t quite actualized. “You see, it is merely a matter of concentrating and soon it’ll be. Anyway, the fish is good here; look at those divinely prepared dishes! Leo would have loved them.”

                Leörmn wasn’t very concerned by the seeming (he almost thought “seaming” in another probability) lack of direction of late errands, as he was well aware they all served a purpose. Oh, he knew that very well indeed, so very well… — but bugger if he could explain what said purpose was. Of course he, like any dragon of his age, could have easily said, if the proper motivation, question or else had prompted him to investigate further. But in its own nature, a dragon wasn’t inquisitive. He was accepting, for all that is before him, is all that is.

                So when the idea germinated inside Malvina’s head, he already knew it would lead to a manifestation of some form, sooner or later.
                So how could he have been surprised when she told him.

                “You could at least play a little surprised!” she said “Doesn’t it sound fun and exciting to have our own Temple of Flove?”
                “I hope it won’t smell too much of fish, or you may repel your patients…”
                “Don’t be silly, we can’t be doing that here, you know that much better than I do!”
                Leörmn cracked a smile, knowing indeed very well where this would all lead.
                “And I will have a lovely white embroidered gown to officiate” Malvina was unstoppable “with pearls and shiny moonstones…”
                “Oh, of course, and rubies for the boobies” Leörmn couldn’t really remain serious.
                “That’s an idea!” Malvina was so enthralled she wasn’t really paying attention. Tomorrow she would bid farewell to Kalliona’s lovely company and Olliburthon charming gastronomy, and set her new journey’s destination to the Land of her ancestors, near the Great Lake of Umphillax, where her journey started, long before she even met her sisters.

                “Tally-oh!” Leörmn cheered, loving the way magic could make packing and unpacking so easy.

                #2388

                He was lying on her massage table, his nudity covered with a blue satin towel. Josephine had really soft hands and was a really good masseuse. Almondus Blondor had been waiting for so long for this massage that he wouldn’t let one bit escape his awareness; though, he was feeling as if he was inexorably slipping into the drum world, his heart was pounding, more and more present. His attention was merging with his old drum self, when he could remember clearly how it was before he came here through the portal himself.

                :fleuron:

                Josephine was using the very potion she was preparing when she heard the tinkling sound… and she was unaware that her hand had taken a wrong ingredient, one of the most important ones. Even if she had known, she would have been unable to tell the consequences of the switch. Almondus could just disappear, melt, transform into a big giant dragonfly… at the moment, she was into a trance, far even from the idea that she could do such a mistake. She never did mistakes!

                :fleuron:

                Bentworth Sadnick was all but confident in his new appointment by his peaster. He had never been alone at the portal before, and he feared most of all that someone would come ask a question. In his mind, it was unthinkable that someone would even dare ask to open the portal…

                He was lost in his hamster wheel, too exhausted by the race to do the usual chores —sure his peaster would notice when he comes back. But what if some official came by? It would certainly be a disaster, Bentworth would be caught stammering and that would only add to his confusion. Wasn’t it hot here? So hot, maybe if he could just put his head aside for a few moments… no, it was forbidden, his peaster had repeated it thousands of times to him, and had him repeat it ten times more… though it could help, sure, release the pressure in his head. His hands reached the hook of his head-fastener and a sudden release of pressure popped into the silence, ending in a harmonious whistling sound.

                Holding his head in his hands, face turned to his chest, he was unable to see the strangers coming from the distance. He sat on the first step of the stairs climbing to the portal, his head resting on his lap, looking at his belly button (his clothes were too short for him, and he was looking like a child grown too fast). Though he was the only one present and when he suddenly heard a raucous voice asking if he could make his bird sing, he feared that it was some kind of sexual offer and were his head on, it would have blushed, but it was still releasing pressure and the sudden squirck sounded like a yes.

                That’s when he lost his head, he stood up briskly and his head rolled on the ground, hitting a stone in the process. His head was knocked out, and he couldn’t use it for the moment. What had his peaster told him so often: “Always do as if you know what to do! Don’t let people see you don’t know, even if you don’t… pretend that you have all the answers. You’re here the most trusted Peaslander and everybody will trust what you say.”

                “Sh-show mme yu-your bi-bird!”

                The Aunt and Dolores looked at each other… the others being headless it would have been pointless.
                “Are you the Keeper of the Old and notwithstanding Great portal of Nibabuz.”

                As he was about to say yes, another release of pressure from his unconscious head made a squirmish sound. As they were waiting, he said the word that would seal his destiny.
                “Yeyes!”

                :fleuron:

                That’s when Almondus, falling asleep, farted. Was it the mixture of Josephine? Was it that he hadn’t done a detox cure for centuries? Nonetheless, that had the disastrous effect of inducing Josephine in a lethargic state. She stopped massaging him and stood there still. Her spearit gone, far worse than if her head had popped out on its own.

                #2382

                A tinkling bell notified Josephine that someone had found the object. The prophecy was right, things were beginning to get into place, and soon, it will be revealed. Unfortunately, she was busy making a very delicate potion for one of her patients and the sound of the bell distracted her and she took a very dangerous spider venom instead of the toad juice she had intended.
                She didn’t realize her mistake, and maybe it was part of the prophecy too. Soon, it will be revealed.

                #2375

                Suddenly, they began to hear little muffled sounds coming from the roof.
                “Oh! not that pop corn rain again…” sighed Mewrich Peamon.
                If Silly still had her head on, she would have looked thrilled and excited by the anticipation of making a pop-corn-man or throwing pop-corn balls at her brother. Where was he? Oh here, just coming from the other other room. She couldn’t see the guilty look on his face, of course, as he got no head… but their mother could, and she was taking notes of all of it for when they’d be back.

                #2374

                The sound of a boiling kettle resounded screeching in the air so loudly everyone looked at Pee as if he was the culprit.

                AAAAARGH, by the beard of Wrathfa the Bloody Goat, darn rotten rusted spigots again! That frigging plumbing is not at all was it’s used to be!…” Mewrich Peamon sweared in mild despair. “This morning alone, I had to remove one of them again, it’s been months I haven’t taken a hot bath…”

                “But of course,” he added with darting eyes when the others didn’t look that surprised “you haven’t come here to hear about that.”

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