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  • #3996
    TracyTracy
    Participant

      The following is an e-mail from the past, composed on July 01, 2010. It is being delivered from the past through FutureMe.org

      Dear FutureMe,
      The Absinthe Cafe
      Dawn and Mark had a bottle of Absinthe (the proper stuff with the WORMwood in
      it, which is illegal in France) but forgot to bring it. Wandering around at
      some point, we chanced upon a cafe called Absinthe. Sitting on the terrace, the
      waitress came up and looked right at me and said “Oh you are booked to come here
      tomorrow night!” and then said “Forget I said that”. Naturally that got our
      attention. After we left Dawn spotted a kid with 2016 on the back of his T
      shirt. We asked Arkandin about it and we have a concurrent group focus that does
      meet in that cafe in 2016, including Britta. Dawn’s name is Isabelle Spencer,
      Jib’s is Jennifer….
      The Worm & The Suitcase
      I borrowed Rachel’s big red suitcase for the trip and stuck a Time Bridgers
      sticker on it, and joked before I left about the case disappearing to 2163. I
      had an impulse to take a fig tree sapling for Eric and Jib, which did survive
      the trip although it looked a little shocked at first. As Eric was repotting
      it, we noticed a worm in the soil, and I said, Well, if the fig tree dies at
      least you have the worm.
      At Balzacs house on a bench in the garden there was a magazine lying there open
      to an ad for Spain, which said “If you lose your suitcase it would be the best
      thing because you would have to stay”.
      Later we asked Arkandin and he said that there was something from the future
      inserted into my suitcase. I went all through it wondering what it could be,
      and then a couple of days ago Eric said that it was the WORM! because of the
      WORMwood absinthe syncs, and worm hole etc. I just had a chat with Franci who
      had a big worm sync a couple of days ago, she particularly noticed a very big
      worm outside the second hand shop, and noted that she hadn’t seen a worm in ages
      ~ which is also a sync, because there was a big second hand clothes shop next to
      Dawn and Mark’s hotel that I went into looking for a bowler hat.
      Arkandin said, by the way, that Jane did forget to mention the bowler hats in
      OS7, those two guys on the balcony were indeed wearing bowler hats, and that
      they were the same guys that were in my bedroom in the dream I had prior to
      finding the Seth stuff ~ Elias and Patel.
      Eric replied:

      And another Time Bridger thing; a while ago, Jib and I had fun planting some TB stickers at random places in Paris (and some on a wooden gate at Jib’s hometown).
      Those in Paris I remember were one at the waiting room of a big tech department store, and another on the huge “Bateaux Mouches” sign on the Pont de l’Alma (bridge, the one of Lady D. where there is a gilded replica of Lady Liberty’s flame).
      I think there are pics of that on Jib’s or my flickr account somewhere.
      When we were walking past this spot, Jib suddenly remembered the TB sticker — meanwhile, the sign which was quite clean before had been written all over, and had other stickers everywhere. We wondered whether it was still here, and there it was! It’s been something like 2 years… Kind of amazing to think it’s still there, and imagine all the people that may have seen it since!
      ~~~~

      The Flights

      I wasn’t all that keen on flying and procrastinated for ages about the trip. I
      flew with EASYjet, so it was nice to see the word EASY everywhere. I got on the
      plane to find that they don’t allocate seats, and chose a seat right at the
      front on the left. The head flight attendant was extremely playful for the
      whole flight, constantly cracking up laughing and teasing the other flight
      attendants, who would poke him and make him laugh during announcements so that
      he kept having to put the phone down while he laughed. I spent the whole flight
      laughing and catching his mischeivously twinking eye.
      I asked Arkandin about him and he said his energy was superimposed. I got on
      the flight to come home and was met on the plane by the same guy! I said
      HELLO! It’s YOU again! Can I sit in the same seat and are you going to make me
      laugh again” and he actually moved the person that was in my seat and said I
      could sit there. Then he asked me about my book (about magic and Napolean). He
      also said that all his flights all week had been delayed except the two that I
      was on. He wanted to give me a card for frequent flyers but I told him I
      usually flew without planes ~ that cracked him up ;))
      ~~~

      The Dream Bean

      Eric cracked open a special big African bean that is supposed to enhance
      dreams/lucidity so we all had a bit of it. The second night I remembered a
      dream and it was a wonderful one.
      (Coincidentally, on the flight home I read a few pages of my book and it just
      happened to be about the council of five dragons and misuse of magical beans)
      In the dream I had a companion with magical powers, who I presumed was Jib but
      it was myself actually. It was a long adventure dream of being chased and
      various adventures across the countryside, but there was no stress, it was all
      great fun. Everytime things got a bit too close in the dream, I’d hold onto my
      friend with magical powers, and we would elevate above the “adventure” and drop
      down in another location out of immediate danger ~ although we were never
      outside of the adventure, so to speak. At one point I wondered why my magical
      freind didn’t just elevate us right up high and out of it completely, and
      realized that we were in the adventure game on purpose for the fun of it, so why
      would we remove ourselves completely from the adventure game.
      In the dream I remember we were heading for Holland at one point, and then the
      last part we were safely heading for Turkey…..
      The other dream snapshot was “we are all working together on roof tiles” and
      Arkandin had some interesting stuff to say about that one.
      ~~~

      There were alot of vampire imagery incidents starting with me asking Eric if he
      slept in his garden tool box at night, and then the guy who shot out of a door
      right next to Jib and Eric’s, in a bright orange T shirt, carrying a cardboard
      coffin. He stopped for me to take a photo (and Arkandin said it was a Patel pop
      in); then while walking through the outdoor food market someone was chopping a
      crate up and a perfect wooden stake flew across the floor and landed at my feet.
      The next vampire sync was a shop opposite Dawn and Mark’s hotel with 3 coffins
      in the window (I went back to take a pic of the cello actually, didn’t even
      notice the coffins). Inside the shop was an EAU DE NIL MOTOR SCOOTER Share, can
      you beleive it, and a mummy, a stuffed raven, and a row of (Tardis) Red phone
      boxes.
      I had a nightmare last night that I couldn’t find any of my (nine) dogs; the
      only ones I could find were the dead ones.
      ~~~~

      Balzac’s House

      The trip to Balzac’s house was interesting, although in somewhat unexpected
      ways. (Arkandin was Balzac and I was the cook/housekeeper) The house didn’t
      seem “right” somehow to Mark and I and we decided that was probably because
      other than the desk there was no furniture in it. Mark saw a black cat that
      nobody else saw that was an Arkandin pop in (panther essence animal), and Dawn
      felt that he was sitting on a chair, and Mark sat on him. (Arkandin said yes he
      did sit on him ;) The kitchen was being used as an office. Jib felt the house
      was too small, and picked up on a focus of his that rented the other part of the
      house. (The house was one storey high on the side we entered, and two storeys
      high from the road below). There were two pop ins there apparently, one with
      long hair which is a connection to my friend Joy who was part of that group
      focus, and I can’t recall anything about the other one. Dawn was picking up
      that Balzac wasn’t too happy, and I was remembering the part in Cousin Bette
      that infuriated me when I read it, where he goes on and on about how disgusting
      it is for servants to expect their wages when their “betters” are in dire
      straits. Arkandin confirmed that I didn’t get my wages.
      The garden was enchanting and had a couple of sphinx statues and a dead pigeon ~
      as well as the magazine with the suitcase and Spain imagery. Mark signed the
      guest book “brought the cook back” and I replied “no cooking smells this time”.

      #3875

      Cornella giggled, dusting off her keyboard before leaving the office. Ed Steam might have something to say about it when he saw the new lists of identities in the morning, but it had been worth it. A little alliteration helped to pass the day, after all. For the most part the story refugees either didn’t notice, or at any rate didn’t complain. They were relieved that the endless process was over, or too nervous about starting a new story to notice.

      Zoe Zuckerberg to Zimbabwe was one of her favourites; and Quentin Quincy to Queensland. What did it matter that Zoe, previously known as Madam Li, had no desire to go to Zimbabwe, or that Ted Marshall had family in Spain? It was up to them to make up whatever they wanted once they started the new story. Her job was assigning names and locations, the rest was up to them.

      She’d laughed out loud when one of them sat down at her desk, clearing his throat nervously. Current name and location? she asked.
      Percy Piedmont from Paris, he said, I have a brother in Shanghai who has a new story, he said he’d insert me into his.

      Cornella couldn’t help wondering who had assigned him his last character role, and if they were playing games in the office to pass the day, too.

      Alright Percy, how about Shane Shylock?

      #3825
      TracyTracy
      Participant

        Gustave jumped when the phone rang, his heart hammering unpleasantly. Get a grip! he told himself sternly. Hesitantly he answered the call, expecting to hear an ear grating cackle.

        “Can I speak to Leonora, please? It’s Bea here,” the voice requested.

        “Er, sorry, I think you have the wrong number,” replied Gustave, feeling like a fool as he tried to calm his shaking hands.

        Leonora Butterworth?” insisted the voice calling herself Bea.

        Startled, he said “Ah, Butterworth’s the name, but I’m afraid I don’t know anyone called Leonora,” and then, astonished, he heard Bea start to sob and mumble incoherently.

        “I’m so sorry, was it urgent?” he asked, already feeling a responsibility to help the unknown woman. “Is there anything I can do to help?”

        “It’s the cackling,” Bea answered with a sniff, “It’s driving me mad. I thought a chat with Leo might help take my mind off it, but I haven’t seen her since the fiasco in Spain and I don’t know where she is, I was hoping this Butterworth number would be her and…..” her voice trailed off disconsolately.

        “It’s driving me mad too,” Gustave was surprised to hear himself say. “I say, er, Bea,” he cleared his throat, “Would you fancy meeting for a drink in the Spotted Dick Inn? To, you know, take our minds off it?”

        Gustave had regained his scientific composure somewhat, and was considering the benefits of an unexpected opportunity to research the effects of the cackling on the ordinary population.

        Bea readily agreed, old tart that she was, and said she would be there in half an hour.

        #3572

        In reply to: The Hosts of Mars

        ÉricÉric
        Keymaster

          It had been two months since the aurora. They had started to refer to it as the Cloud Aurora, since after it, rocks had started to leak moisture in all manner of places.
          Long, thin clouds had begun to appear just a month after, and the atmosphere composition seemed to alter itself as well, irrevocably.

          Everyone was busy doing analysis, sending reports to Earth and extrapolating on data. But John was more interested in running more explorations and extending the area of his scouting.

          Tonight, a new commercial ship from Earth would arrive. Mostly rich tourists bored with Spain or Italy, but a bit of fresh blood too, most likely winners of a stupid settler raffle. It had taken them years to arrive; it was hard for John to imagine being crammed in suspension, floating through endless void and cold space for so long.

          But then, he himself was quite excited being here to monitor the inexorable changes set in motion on the red planet.

          #3258
          TracyTracy
          Participant

            The curly beard of one of the men caught Lisa’s attention, and she tuned in to what he was saying, her focus fully on the windscreen reflection now, the car and it’s concurrent timeframe having faded from view. “It’s an honour to be killed by a bull , Intu ,” he said to the woman walking beside him. “Your grandfather’s death is heroic, you will appreciate that in time.”
            “Perhaps in time, Balthazar,” she replied, “But I wish he was still here.”
            Balthazar patted her shoulder, and Lisa noticed his ring ~ two dolphins leaping. With a flash she understood that Intu’s grandfather had refocused as a dolphin, many centuries later in the silk like sea off the shores of Faro.
            “You can write a story about him on a stone tablet when we get to Almodovar. And I promise I won’t give you a hard time about continuity.”
            Intu smiled weakly. She did enjoy writing random stories on stone tablets, often wondering if the people of the future would be able to make sense of them and put the pieces together. She had left tablets of stories here and there as she traveled, sign posts to elsewhere and elsewhen, imprinted with the energy of adventure and mystery, laden with clues for imaginative voyagers to unravel in any way their fancies led them.

            #3205

            Maria del Mar first met Pseu at the Estate in the City. Maria del Mar had been projecting to the City regularly during her sleep states (the kind of sleep that land based humans would consider to be a hypnogogic state, which was the natural sleep state for whales). Pseu had been showing Maria del Mar the tile collection for the Folly and explaining about KILTs (Key Incident Link Tiles), and her friend Janice had been sharing her collection of Story World tiles. Maria del Mar described to them a similar system in her undersea world, whereby whales (and indeed other cetaceans) used energy imprinted markers for various purposes, such as teleport and time travel portal markers, and more importantly, for tracking the crystal’s time-shifting location (time shifting the location of the crystal was a necessary safety feature during the uncertain times preceding the end of the 21st century). Some of the markers were large (relatively speaking, not so very large for a whale) such as the ghost galleon the Santa Rosa, and some were small and inconspicuous, resting on the sea bed, but easily detected by connecting to the energy contained within them.
            One such marker, a tile shaped piece of ancient coral that was designated to mark a particular portal to Atlantis, had been reported missing. A small earthquake off the coast of southern Spain had dislodged the coral marker tile from it’s location in the Alboran Sea in the western Mediterranean, and it had washed up on the beach. It was unusual for a marker tile to dislodge, but a particularly strong pooling of energy had been a factor, drawing the coral tile magnetically to a beach not far from the land based timebridgers portal in a beach bar further up the coast.
            Someone walking along the beach one summer morning (coincidentally the same person who had designated the beach bar as a Timebridgers portal just a few kilometers away) had found the tile and taken it home with her, entranced with the unusual appearance of it. The morning beach walker had felt the pull of something that she couldn’t quite explain, and despite the weight of the strange object, she felt compelled to carry it home with her, and display it on her patio.
            Maria del Mar, Janice and Pseu discussed various other ongoing adventures and projects, agreed to assist each others explorations, and established a network of energetic links for ease of communication.

            #3203
            TracyTracy
            Participant

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

              #3093

              In reply to: Scrying the Word Cloud

              TracyTracy
              Participant

                taking spain
                knew black team under often help especially week starting

                #3089
                TracyTracy
                Participant

                  Trove wondered if she threw away all her stuff and went severely minimalist, the endless packing stuff to move dreams would stop. There was an unusual twist to this dream though: they had been living in Kove’s rambling house, presumably on the south coast of England (Kove was Dude’s ex) and when Kove came back home it became clear that it would be a good idea to move out (although there was nothing about the ex part of the actual story in the dream). Trove didn’t know whether to move back to Spain, or back to the Midlands. She wanted to see her grandfather again in the Midlands (even planned on going back there at least for a day or two to see him ~ despite that he had died years ago), but the thought of living there again was like an enormous black cloud. We have to go back down south again, we have to, she thought, and then realized painfully that she was too grown up now or too old to have anyone to move back home to, they would be “on their own” which was not without difficulty for some reason. Then, the packing started. The endless sorting out of mostly rubbish. One of the bedroom cupboards had an oven in it, a filthy blackened hole of grease and debris.

                  #3019
                  TracyTracy
                  Participant

                    The Pointy Hat surge had been resurrected in Spain, a premature re-enactment of an elaborate ritual of the religious past. Premature because the ritual wasn’t quite in the past yet, but was hovering on the shoreline of past ritual and future re-enactment. The overall energy of the surge was difficult to categorize, and a challenge to divert ~ if indeed, a diversion was necessary.

                    Mari Fe was wary of creating another fiasco like the Three Kings Parade, and had not announced any detiled plans, or any details, either. She trusted that should a surge diversion team be required, a surge diversion team would appear; and sure enough, the Wordblade had answered her call. Mari Fe was aware of the false flag propaganda about the Wordblade, and the deliberate rumour that the Surge Team was looking for him, but she secretly admired his alphabet slaughtering ways and radical approach.

                    As the letters of the alphabet came straggling in from the battlefields of the south, Mari Fe welcomed them, and gave them all soup, urging them to rest. She warned them that they may be called on during the weekend, if the premature retro rituals got out of hand.

                    #3015
                    TracyTracy
                    Participant

                      Much to Pearls amazement the celebrity surge mania that had taken hold of the lower ranks of the surge teams assistants was starting to infest the higher ranks as well. In fact it had started to infect the celebrities themselves, as well as the royal families of several European and Middle Eastern countries. Celebrity mania had surged with an unholy vengeance just after lightning struck the Vatican, when the pope was led away in handcuffs the previous month. Royal princesses, not satisfied with the rank of just one position, recklessly started claiming the lives of feckless celebrities as their own. Celebrities started insisiting that they were directing Directors, and informing cameramen that they were a focus of theirs too. The cameramen wondered whether they even knew what P mode was, and who was in charge now anyway. The King of Spain decided to claim Madonna as his own, and refuted Lady Ga Ga’s claim that she was in fact directing him. A Pointless TV quiz contestant claimed to be directing Stephen Fry, which was clearly rubbish; many dismissed the claim as distorted.

                      #2997

                      After a few months travelling from Spain to France in their quest for the dragons, with already two visa applications for China rejected, endless unkind mocking laughs or condescending looks from strangers, and having had to pawn temporarily the sabulmantium to buy Vincentius a shirt, Arona and her motley family were thinking it was time for a turn of fate.

                      It didn’t take them too long hopefully.
                      Of course, the sabulmantium was recovered as soon as they had realized it was actually more lucrative in this dimension to have Vincentius take off his shirt in shady bars at night for a few meals and lodging, and some little extras. Mandrake had been kind to provide ample squeaking mice supplements, which Arona had politely declined, for which Mandrake faked each time the saddest of disappointments. All in all, so far their life on the roads had been easier than she would have thought.
                      Of course, they’d lost Sanso a few times as he couldn’t stay at one place for too long, and keeping track of his movements was near impossible. So they relied on trust that he would always find his way, which surprisingly enough, he did every single time.

                      He had been the one to provide them with the way to the island actually. One day, after weeks without news, he’d reappeared, hammering at the door of their little room at the top of their 9 storey hotel in Paris, near the St Honoré Market Place. He was wearing the quaintest bright violet velvet surplice, and was carrying a bottle of glowing green liquor.

                      To settle in a lovely island of the Ocean they called Pacific… It didn’t take too much convincing: Paris was starting to get boring, and far too cold. Arona missed the moist glowing warmth of Leormn’s cave, that was so good for her skin. She didn’t miss the riddles though.

                      The entry point of the tunnel was inside the catacombs, and they’d almost got lost a few times, she could have sworn, although Sanso was ever confident they were on track, even when a few dead-ends were staring at him in the face with toothless skulls grins. But after a few hours, the tunnel actually broadened, and glowed a lovely shade of orange.

                      It was funny, traveling through the Earth’s crust, made her almost feel at home. If all the dragons of this realm had left, and were hidden somewhere, she was certain it had to be to such a place. It gave her hopes again to meet one in this strange land which had forgotten magic.

                      #2995
                      ÉricÉric
                      Keymaster

                        In Ed Steam’s old office, Lord Lemon was like in a mausoleum full of ghosts.
                        Mostly computer illiterate, he favoured greatly goose feather and dark Chinese ink soft purr on the paper over the annoying clickety racket of the keyboards. So he wasn’t exactly feeling at home in Ed’s old shoes.

                        The team’s greeting party had been cordial, but he didn’t feel an overwhelming welcome either, not that he expected it. It was Ed’s team after all, he was the Rooster of the chicks of roast, whatever they liked to call themselves. He was not found of monikers and preferred to be addressed simply as Sir.

                        The call he received on the morning was perplexing him. They’d found an auditor dead with a Surge Corp. business card in his jacket in the streets of a Spanish city, he couldn’t really remember which, the accent on the phone was as dreadful as that of a Chinese civet, but… What was that about already? He’d thought his memory was improving, getting back on the field, but there were relapses again, he had to concentrate. Afternoon Scrabble games were not that bad after all.

                        He’d perfected a neat technique to remember things, placing vivid images in memory palaces constructed in his mind were he could retrieve them later, but the thing was that his memory palaces sorely lacked a cleaning lady, and images sometimes blurred together or went missing, fading away. He sighed.

                        His gaze on the phone brought him back to his stream of thought. This would have been stored on the Suspicious Clues Palace, in Ed’s corner. His mind raced back in the atrium of his palace where he could see the various corners, and he went back into the Alley of Dark Secrets, then turned to the Corner of Lonely Puzzle Pieces. There were actually a lot of them, but the topmost one was vivid enough. It was a red blood hearing-aid spewing out a mean Larsen and bathing in paella. For “auditor murdered in Spain” obviously. He turned down mentally the volume of the hearing-piece. This was not a very elegant image, but he was in a hurry, and crude preposterous images always were remembered better he’d found out. The lewdest even more so. Which was why his Palace of Past Precious Moments was starting to look like a brothel he was loath to admit.

                        He was starting to wonder if Ed’s demise was not some sort of inside job. Circumstances were not really orthodox, but nothing was in their line of duty, so he had to look for something else. He’d already started to make an inventory of the storage room, just before the break-in, but computer handicapped as he was, between paper and memory palaces, he couldn’t figure it anymore and had to start it over with some help from Cornella.
                        At least, he’d sent Hyphen and Dash to discreetly investigate on the break-in and now, he will probably send them to investigate on… he faced a blank. All he could remember now was he was having the meanest craving for mussels and prawns.

                        #2988
                        ÉricÉric
                        Keymaster

                          Ed Steam’s Rally Update:

                          Where is your Surge Team now?

                          Other recurring characters in the same timeline:

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

                          Recurring other-dimensional characters in the same timeline:

                          Other characters in the future timeline:

                          #2968
                          ÉricÉric
                          Keymaster

                            Madam Li contemplated the pill-like translucent object glowing bright red which could barely fit in the palm of her delicate hand.
                            People usually said that you could try and hide your age as well as possible on your face, but that hands didn’t lie. Hers actually were still a young woman’s fine delicate and smooth work-of-art.
                            The snow had stopped immediately, leaving the weather in the Pudding area as it used to be: a pale mist of polluted fog, thus returning Shanghai to its normal weather patterns. The rote was there in her hand, full of the last surge’s energy, a tempting promise of uncontrollable power, but she had seen far too much power struggle and horrors to be really tempted by it.

                            Ed’s demise had taken her by surprise. Although she did look young, it was her heart who really betrayed her. She hated people leaving her, and she would have expected Ed to survive her own death. It was the first time she was considering ever so briefly the thought of retiring. Of course, she still would need to find a replacement at her post, but China was full of eager potentials, that wouldn’t take too long.
                            Putting the rote in the diplomatic case, her gaze trailed on the invitation, still on the table. She wasn’t ashamed to admit her first thought went to the cleaning lady who had been careful to dust all around it, without moving it an inch off the glass table top.
                            Spain just came as an afterthought, already having lost its appeal as soon as summoned.

                            Wrapping herself in her white fur coat, she called for a taxi. She would be just in time for the ice festival in Harbin with a warm dog legs’ soup and some yak butter tea.

                            #2903
                            Jib
                            Participant

                              Terry was a bit confused by all these blinks in and out. He needed some cheese and decided to focus the multronic stream of his TTI (Time Travel Implant) to a fridge in the region called Spain.

                              Unfortunately, the flux went right through a mousehole and he didn’t quite get to Spain. He was in a dark room. Noises were muffled here and there was no smell he could recognize. Before doing anything foolish, he turned on his night vision and everything appeared with cartoonish colours and enhanced black edges. It was the only one available when he borrowed it from Dr Frankenlaughner’s lab. You got used to it, eventually.

                              The room was still dark, but a cartoonish dark. That was mysterious. A squirking sound, like an amazonian squirrel, startled him. His curiosity was picked. He took a piece of what was left of his Marie biscuit and began to walk as silently as he could toward the squirrel sound.

                              #2896
                              ÉricÉric
                              Keymaster

                                While her Western colleagues were busy chasing illegal time travellers in Spain, Katarina was busy overseeing the light flux changes at an Ukrainian old pyramid site.
                                She’d read about the snow on the Gizeh site, and was quick to make the link between this pyramid and hers. In fact, the land had been under a spell of high temperatures and draught, unusual for winter. Intense continuous aurora activity was even spotted further north, sometimes lasting during the pale daylight.
                                She wondered if this was localized or could have affected other parts of the pyramid network.
                                She’d tried without success to contact Elza, her Middle East colleague, but she seemed to have disappeared without a trace… Not only was she unreachable on her com devices, but worse, her location chip was deactivated.
                                Never mind those stupid techs, Katarina had the resources of a long lineage of shamanic priests running in her blood — finding a missing person shouldn’t be more difficult than doing some soul bits retrieval. Unless… Elza was deliberately hiding from the Team…

                                Jib
                                Participant

                                  The Surge Team

                                  ~ The 13 Chicks of Roast ~ aka TCoR or T-Core

                                  1. Cornella, from Ullapool, posted to Long Poon
                                  2. Pearl, USA, North Carolina
                                  3. Mari Fe, Spain
                                  4. Skye, London
                                  5. Katarina, Ukrain
                                  6. Vera, from NZ, posted to Tahiti or pacific islands
                                  7. Kiki, Swaziland
                                  8. Björk, Iceland
                                  9. Janet Mendyourhall, from LV, Nevada, posted to the West Coast
                                  10. Lulla, Brasil
                                  11. Madam Li, Harbin, China
                                  12. Anita Charmpatti, India
                                  13. unknown yet, current location Middle East

                                  ~ Cleaning ladies ~

                                  Aqua Luna in Long Poon

                                  ~ Other characters ~

                                  Ed Steam, the big boss (aprox. 6’7’‘)
                                  The Management aka Man-T-Core

                                  #2814

                                  In reply to: Snowflakes of Tens

                                  TracyTracy
                                  Participant

                                    While Yuhara and Sylvestrus were exploring Second Life worlds (Frolic Caper~Belle was still on an extended leave of absence), Blithe Gambol, although she didn’t entirely realize it at the time, was exploring First Life worlds on the Coast of Light.

                                    Blithe and her partner Winn set off for the drum festival in the late afternoon heat, with the intention of reaching the Light Coast before sundown. The strong low sun flickered on and off as it hid behind trees and hills, and the hot dry wind whipped Blithes hair into her eyes, leaving the heavy heat of the Coast of the Sun behind and tranforming it into a light bone dry atmosphere that seemed to suck the air out of Blithe’s lungs. She filled the vacuum with smoke, listening to the words of the music playing ~ must be a reason why I’m king of my castle….king of my castle…it reminded her of Dealea’s story about King Author.

                                    When they reached Vejer de la Frontera they made a wrong turning, although they were well aware that no turning is a wrong one. The new direction took them in a circle behind the Vejer promontory, through the umbrella pines along the coast. The sky was golden yellow behind the black sillouttes on one side, with a periwinkle sea on the other, rocky pale grey outcrops blushed with pink paddling in the gently lapping waves.

                                    As they entered the village of Canos de Meca, they slowed to crawl behind the inching cars, as tanned people in brightly coloured clothes wove in and out of the traffic, and in and out of the exotic looking bars and restaurants. Blithe remembered the Second Life worlds she had been exploring earlier that day, and wondered if Second Life came with the smells of sardines barbequeing on the beach, or a warm breeze wafting past laden with snatches of laughter and conversation. Visually, certainly, Second Life would be hard presssed to beat the visual appeal of Canos de Meca at sunset on an August evening. There were plenty of opportunities to observe the people and the hostelries, as the traffic got progressively worse until it eventually came to a standstill. The narrow lanes were lined with parked cars, and throngs of people carrying coolers made their way to the sand dunes near the lighthouse.

                                    Eventually, after several slow drives past looking for a miraculous parking space that didn’t appear, Blithe and Winn found a restaurant in between the coastal villages that was strangely empty of people. Even Winn, who was much less inclined towards fanciful imaginings than Blithe, remarked on how surreal the place was. It could have been anywhere in Spain, so strangely ordinary was its appearance in comparison to the Moorish beach hippy style of the villages. They ordered food, and relaxed in easy silence in the oasis of calm ordinariness. Blithe wondered if the place actually existed or if she had created it out of thin air, just for a respite and a parking place, and a clean unoccupied loo. Another First Life world, perhaps, constructed in the moment to meet the current requirements of ease.

                                    At 11:11, after another two drives through the crawling cars and crowds, Winn turned the car around and headed for home. At 12:12 they reached the Coast of the Sun, shrouded in sea mist, and at 1:00am precisely, they arrived home. Later, as Blithe lay on the bed listening to the drums playing on the music machine, she closed her eyes and saw the sunset over the Atlantic, and felt the ocean breeze of the fan. She projected her attention to the dunes of Trafalgar ~ which, incidentally, didn’t take two hours, it was instant. In another instant, she was back in her bedroom, sipping agua con gas on the rocks and chatting to Winn. Seconds later, she was in a vibrant nightclub overlooking the beach, dancing in spirit between the jostling holidaymakers being served at the bar. She imagined that one or two of them noticed her energy.

                                    Clearly, teleporting from one place to another had its benefits. The question of parking, for example, wouldn’t arise. But Blithe wouldn’t have wanted to miss the late afternoon drive to the Coast of Light, and the golden slanting lightbeams flickering between the cork oaks making their cork shorn trunks glow red, or the ocean appearing over the crest of a hill. And if she had arrived in an instant at the location she was intending to visit, then she would never have encountered the sunset from the particular angle of the approach via the wrong turn. Variety ~ and impulse, and the opportunities of the unexpected turns ~ was the weft of weaving First Life worlds ~ or was it the warp?

                                    link: weaving worlds

                                    #2571

                                    In reply to: Strings of Nines

                                    Glor…”
                                    “What dear?”
                                    Glor, ain’t you bored silly in that cottage?”
                                    “Well Sha, now that our Joe and ‘arry are gone fishin’ all day… and thinking of our glorious days on that island…”
                                    “Tell no more! I was thinking of that too… Would be good to have another beauty treatment for sure…”
                                    “Any idea where that doctor might be now Shar?”
                                    “As a matter of fact, I do…”
                                    “You’re kidding me Shar!”
                                    “I’ve got a cousin in Spain, ya know…”
                                    “Who? Barb?”
                                    “Yeah, Barbie. I’ve got news from her from time to time, when she’s squatting in those tourists houses in Spain while they’re empty in the low season.”
                                    “And what? Tell me all, I’m dying Shar!”
                                    “I’ll tell you if you bloddy stop interrupting! Now, last week, she mentioned she heard from a woman in Spain that they saw a doctor during a silly nut-age conference, he was talking of rejuvenating cures, and she even got a sample.”
                                    “A sample?”
                                    “Yeah, a bloody sample. She told me those silly twats gave them to their dogs! Can you believe it Glor’?”
                                    “The silly buggers! Throwing away precious reejoo-whatever samples!”
                                    “Anyway, the doctor was speaking with whales too. Every year he told them (Barbie told me) going upside down in the sea to upgrade his whale speech.”
                                    “Whale speech you say Shar…”
                                    “Kind of rings a bell init?”
                                    “Hell yeah! I remember Vessie told us about those funny swimming suits for the Doctor. Could be him!”
                                    “You know what?”
                                    “What Shar?”
                                    “I’m having a funny brainwave now… I’m thinking we need some vacation in Spain…”
                                    “And leave Gustav to cook the bloody fish for the boys ! You’re brilliant Shar!”

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