Search Results for 'sudden'

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  • #4063
    TracyTracy
    Participant

      A flash of orange fur caught Hilda’s eye. Inwardly groaning, she imagined it to be the peculiar joker from the west again. When the orange creature suddenly leaped up into a sycamore tree and started swinging from branch to branch Hilda realized that was unlikely.

      “A Sumatran orangutan!” Hilda exclaimed, rather thrilled at the unexpected encounter, and completely forgetting her intention to teleport back to Iceland.

      #4061
      Jib
      Participant

        The hotel manager closed the red ledger in a loud flap, releasing a cloud of dark dust. Connie wondered if it was becasue of that volcano with the unspeakable name which had been fuming again since their arrival.

        “There is no vacancy”, he said.

        “But, we had a reservation”, said Sweet Sophie with her sweetest voice.

        “Maybe you had, but had is in the past. Now there is no vacancy.”

        Sweet Sophie took a deep breath in and tried to imagine the poppy ground of her hometown in Cornwall. It didn’t work. She didn’t feel relaxed nor did she feel bliss. She had no imagination for that kind of positive thinking, her mind only worked for conspiracies and time paradoxes.

        Connie had been looking at her watch repeatedly, and breathing heavily. They had been trying to get past this man for fifteen minutes. His face was as pleasant as a Gib’s monkey ass. Not as Maybe not as comfortable to sit on though. Sweet Sophie couldn’t think with all the noise Connie was doing. She knew there was a solution, and she didn’t want to go to another hotel, their instructions were specific, get a room at Diamond Suites hotel.

        “It’s no use”, said Connie. “Let’s find another hotel. I’ve been told there is one called Blue Lagoon part of a wonderful Spa.”

        “Shush”, said Sophie. “I’m thinking.”

        “That would be a first”, said Connie with a conniving smile.

        Sweet Sophie didn’t pay attention, she was used to rudeness. Instead she looked at the manager’s ugly face and suddenly had an idea that might have come from the past but could be applied in the present to get them a key.

        “Of course it was in the past”, she began, “We just forgot to take the key of our rooms.”

        “Very well”, said the manager, “What are your room numbers ?”

        Sweet Sophie smiled. There was some progress. What did the letter say again ?

        #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”.

          #3978
          TracyTracy
          Participant

            A strange peacefulness enveloped Idle as she stood immobilized beside the sapling. A feeling of imperturbability washed over her, the grace of stillness. She glanced down at her legs and rather liked the smooth cold marble effect; so much more attractive that purple veins and loose skin. While her neck still had a degree of flexibility, she looked around, appreciating the hard still silent trees, their infinite serenity and refreshing lack of hustle bustle.

            But her quiet reverie was not to last long. The sudden appearance of a partly clad woman sent flocks of birds squalking away from the treetops in alarm.

            The woman immediately set to removing her shirt and rearranging it across her torso in an attempt to gain some kind of conventional modesty, dislodging the sticky paper scraps.

            Devan, who had chanced upon this usual scene in his search for his aunt, failed to notice the paper at first, so entranced was he with watching the attractive woman attempt to cover her voluptuous body with a gardening shirt. Mater, breathing heavily from the exertion of the search, came up behind him and slapped him soundly on the back of the head and gave him a push.

            “The paper!” she hissed. “Get the paper!”

            #3972
            F LoveF Love
            Participant

              Suddenly there was a piercing scream.

              Finnley’s face had turned white—although later she would claim it was not fear but rather the cucumber mask giving her face a death-like appearance—and she was pointing a shaking finger in the direction of Roberto’s derrière. Or more accurately, towards where Roberto’s derrière had been prior to the scream; like the others, he had jumped up in alarm at the ear splitting noise.

              “What the devil is the matter?” gasped LIz. She grasped Finnley’s shoulders firmly and shook her. “Pull yourself together; it’s just a bum crack. I know it is a long time since you will have seen a man’s bum, but really as I keep saying to you, if you will just smarten yourself up and make a bit more effort. I mean, look at you; you’ve got vegetables falling off your face ….” Liz shook her head in confoundment.

              “It’s not the bum crack,” snarled Finnley, recovering her usual unflappable composure. “It is the tattoo on his bum. The tattoo of the girl with the glass feet. Do you not know what that means?”

              Roberto’s eyes narrowed as he began to back away towards the gate.

              In all the excitement, nobody noticed Godfrey picking up the sticky and ripped shreds of paper which Liz had let drop to the ground.

              Or did they?

              #3946

              In reply to: Mandala of Ascensions

              At the same time, and in a different space, Floverley was trying to help some characters out of the limbo state of forgetfulness.

              To lure them out of the woodwork, and offer them a much needed sexying-up, she had set up a luminary booth at the fringe of the Limbo states next to Nowherehampton, which stated in unapologetic fluorescent neon lights “FREE MAKEOVER” and in little letters “(hugs NOT complimentary)”.

              As far as she’d found, the little In Sects were still in winter slumber, and her business was at a crawl that she wanted to consider switching strategies, not that she was big on strategies, only needing but one “go with the flove”.

              Anyhow, the ring of the sudden distraction with Master John and Dispersee would surely do as well as a round of aura cleaning duties.

              #3943

              In reply to: Mandala of Ascensions

              Jib
              Participant

                The jiggong meditation’s end was signaled by a silent ring of the immaterial bell in between states of mind. MJ stretched his ideas and send a shepherd to gather his thoughts. Today only one student connected to the session. MJ acknowledged his presence with a slight flickr of his crown chakra and he checked his voicemail. 1223 messages from Dispersee. He let the potential irritation dissolve as it was born into existence and prepared to respond. No need to listen to the messages, it would only delay the answer.

                He felt a nudge from the student who hadn’t dissipated as he should. Some hesitation fluctuated in the energy. He turned his attention to the void and waited. His motto was to always let people ask the questions they had if they had any, and not begin a conversation if you hadn’t something important to say.

                Master John ?

                MJ sent some encouragement to the void where the student thought he was.

                I can’t think of a question, finally expressed the student out of nowhere.
                Maybe you don’t have any question, MJ said to the void.
                The student’s energy rippled with surprise. Had he been on Earth plane, he would have had a nervous laugh.

                Master John had already been aware that the void of the student had no question but was filled with interrogations. He was desperately trying to find something to ask in need to connect, unaware that the connection already existed and required no movement.
                MJ sent an energy egg to the student. Let him play with that. It was crafted according to the ancient Chinese culture and hard to crack. With lots of mind knots and shiny curly clues. MJ let his pride of having created the object dissolve like squid ink in the ocean of his mind.

                Suddenly absorbed by the illusory complexity of the egg, the student suddenly blended into the void of MJ’s mind, replaced by the myriads of Dispersee’s messages cackling simutaneously to catch his unwavering attention. He picked one of them and followed the thread to Dispersee and to a nice pique nique in the mountain apparently. Floverly was already there, sitting on a patch of red flowers.

                You could have changed after your jiggong, she said.

                #3918
                TracyTracy
                Participant

                  Liz chose to ignore Finnley’s last remark and continue with her explanation.

                  “The exercise was proving to be illuminating in many unexpected ways. Despite the well known fact (or let us say, well known assumption) that each individual leads themselves, and the widespread reluctance of the group to follow established leaders, when presented with an option to label oneself a leader, suddenly everyone wanted to lead.”

                  #3894

                  In reply to: Mandala of Ascensions

                  Frowning, Dispersee pondered the latest impulse and hesitated before including it in her report. The imagery had shifted from pools, to bubbles, to vapourous mist rising in shafts of sunlight, which sounded dangerously akin to ascending into the light, and that would never do. There was already far too much mumbo jumbo circulating about ascension and light, and altogether too many people sitting around on gluten free arses, ignoring everything, waiting for the shifted salt free shaft of the rapture to beam them up to the higher realms.

                  No, it was no good, she couldn’t possibly share the new imagery, it would be misconstrued and counterproductive. Dispersee waited for the next strange impulse, and further clues.

                  She didn’t have to wait long: the next morning, seized by another compulsion, she slipped out of the house into the dense swirling fog. Normally a big fan of bright contrast and intense colours, the diffused monochrome scenes were somehow restful to her senses. Water droplets danced in the air like common eye floaters, gathering on her skin and hair, wetting her as effectively as a dunk in a pool, but without the sudden shock of a plunge. It was insidious, almost sneaky, the way the mist pretended to be air but was mostly water. The fog connected everything in its path with its swarms of moisture droplets, drenching everything. Dispersee wondered if her wellington boot had sprung a leak as her left sock became coldly saturated, but it was the rivulets of clinging fog dribbling down her trouser leg.

                  The bucolic scenery in shades of grey reminded her of the common phrase “it’s not black and white” which had been much bandied about of late. No, it’s not, she mused, it’s shades of reflected dispersed fluid, masquerading as spaces and solid matters. Poised to take a snapshot of a particularly large dewdrop which was reflecting an interesting twisted sapling, Dispersee blundered into the stalk of the plant, causing a furious shivering along the stems and seed pods. She watched with a feeling akin to fascinated horror as the glorious individual droplets merged into a channel of least resistance, spilling down in streams to gather in the mud.

                  #3880
                  TracyTracy
                  Participant

                    The old woman looked him up and down before pushing past him, curtly telling him to knock because they were all asleep. Quentin quaked inwardly. He’d arrived at his new location, a dilapidated old hotel, although not without a certain other worldly charm, at an ungodly hour of the morning. Hovering on the porch, he was unsure whether to risk waking his new hosts. He didn’t want to make a bad first impression. He felt even more dejected and confused when he realized he had no idea what kind of first impression he wanted to make.

                    His first encounter saddened him, and he hoped they all weren’t as unwelcoming as she had been. He wasn’t accustomed to feeling like such a stranger, or so nervous and shy. What made it even worse was that Quentin was quite well aware that his lack of confidence would be bound to make everything worse.

                    “You’re not another one of those story refugees, are you? Did I frighten you?” the girl asked, as Quentin jumped at her sudden appearance from behind the spider plant.
                    “My name’s Prune, are you Quentin Quincy? Aunt Idle’s expecting you, but she’s not up yet. Are you going to be in the new room ten story?”

                    #3848
                    ÉricÉric
                    Keymaster

                      Sam was looking at the new breatharator that was just delivered. The big machine from purple, turned suddenly red and whizzed in like mad for a moment.

                      “Well, I think the energy has become more focused, can’t you feel it?” he said absentmindedly, to nobody in particular.

                      #3827

                      In reply to: The Hosts of Mars

                      ÉricÉric
                      Keymaster

                        The tunnels went dark and deep into the crust. Water was seeping through the cracks and made the progression difficult at times. But she had found her way out.
                        She could have died in the tunnels, unable to find her way to the surface, but for some reason, Maia trusted her instincts and her senses to guide her through them. Like the water, flowing through.

                        She didn’t know for sure how far she was from the MARS base when she emerged out, it was hard to tell the distances underground, sometimes you would go down for hundreds of meters, and when you’d look up, the stone ceiling would seem just a few meters overhead.

                        She wasn’t too sure why she had escaped like this and made herself a target. A sudden instinct, something that told her the others couldn’t be trusted, and that they wanted to clean them up.
                        Anyway, it was too late for regrets.

                        The desert wasn’t too bad at twilight, not too hot and better for her to travel unnoticed.
                        A few more days of walk in the desert, and she could find a road, maybe some motel where to spend the night. She still had a few bucks in her purse to see her through.
                        All she wanted now was to make sure her son was alright.
                        Her being alive and out was a threat to their program, and she intended to make the best of a bad situation.

                        Then she realized the humming sound in the back of her thoughts wasn’t random noise. There was a drone hovering, getting back apparently from some scouting. It wasn’t a military drone by the sound of it, more like a hobbyist’s toy. That meant there was someone out there, not far. Someone curious and potentially useful…

                        #3800

                        In reply to: Mandala of Ascensions

                        Dispy was starting her own secret Descended Dissent Classes.

                        It was not long ago that she had a very sudden and all-encompassing revelation at one of her flights above the great tundra of Siberia, which she liked for some reason to fly over, counting the red spots made by the fly agaric mushrooms in the tundra.

                        She’d been very disturbed by the revelations about her assignment to the Mars mission. She’d genuinely thought she was in for the support of the greatest advancement of humanity since quite many decades, and to realize it was all a quite twisted experiment made her uneasy at her core. She had some profound respect for her teacher, and despite her usual impulses to immediately confront Medlik for the inherent contradictions in his self-professed compassion and wisdom talks, something in her had told her to remain quiet and observe. And more surprisingly, she had complied. And observed very attentively.

                        During her flight afterwards, the same strong impulse had told her to land in the tundra, right next to a very nice patch of red. Being ascended had the wonderful benefit she wouldn’t feel the bone chilling cold, and she could just immerse herself in the joy of the scenery, and at the same time felt all very quiet and full of love and, strangely, a sort of distant regret for not being able to feel more of the cold and the whole scenery. And in the silence, she had a sudden unraveling of reality like never before. She could see the contradictions she noticed, one after another, destroying every layer of what she thought she knew, only to be left as a silent, quiet and very aware presence. She could have stayed like this a long long time, but she felt the call for the next Ascended class, for which she was late, as usual.

                        She continued to ponder while she teleported back, and without word (again, quite unusual), formed the resolve to expose more of the truth she’d grasped. Create a fifth column for the Descended, something her old friend who liked spy fictions would definitely have loved to hear about. But for now, she would have to keep it quiet, and maintain her cover at the Order of the Ascended Masters. She’d worked quite hard (well, not as hard as many, but that wasn’t the point) to get to her coronation, so she now had a nice Light Clearance that allowed her to tap into the Coloured Light Rays. This would be helpful.

                        In the beginning, she’d thought naively that concealing her true motives and secretly recruit like-minded students would be terribly difficult, but to the contrary, she found the light to be very responsive and easy to bend into subtle illusions of the truth. In short, she could still lie very well, and quite effectively. As though the light helped her in her attempts.

                        At the moment, she just had one student, Domba. They were meeting out-of-body at a hut in Chernobyl. The place was actually quite nice, and teaming with wildlife and surprisingly gorgeous nature. The perfect hideout.

                        Her course, well, was a course in spontaneity mostly. She would help people question reality, and authority. Something she had been lightwashed to forget for awhile too.

                        Domba had a pure heart, and was full of illusions. It had been easy to recruit him. She had to start with what he brought to her. At the beginning, mostly quotes of spiritual teachers. She had to teach him to question and see by himself.

                        “The Buddha said that when we dedicate merit, it is like adding a drop of water to the ocean. Just as a drop of water added to the ocean will not dry up but will exist as long as the ocean itself exists, so, too, if we dedicate the merit of any virtuous deed, it merges with the vast ocean of merit that endures until enlightenment.” – Padmasambhava

                        That quote he brought was interesting. The idea of being a drop of water lost in the ocean was enough to make her lightskin crawl. Because it reminded her all too well of the manipulations of the ascended masters. Twisting just barely enough the Love stream, so that It would be redirected just were they wanted.

                        So they meditated on that for now.

                        #3759

                        In reply to: The Hosts of Mars

                        ÉricÉric
                        Keymaster

                          At the Monitoring Station Alpha-7, Eb Ruide was looking lazily at logs on the big screen and surveillance images.

                          Nothing ever interesting happened on MARS. Eb used all caps in his head, to distinguish it from Mars, the real Mars. But it didn’t actually matter, they only knew about MARS (Mars Animated Realistic Simulation).

                          He hadn’t been there at the beginning, but he’d heard the stories — even if all were sworn to secrecy for the sake of the world’s peace keeping, they couldn’t help but gossip among themselves. Must have been fun back then… Not a day without trying to fix something in the simulation. The lab rats were always trying to expand their perimeter, and physical and physiological barriers had to be put in place for them to help improve the simulation.

                          They were more or less all willing subjects at the time, part of the big deception. Eb didn’t know how it changed, what made them start to believe in the illusion, and start to forget. He could only assume… many didn’t believe in the world as it was, and preferred to go back to a foregone settler era where every life counted, and you could measure yourself against the big expanse of unknown land, instead of living the comfortable torpor like he was, alone in his Monitoring Station, only virtually connected.

                          Since the Aurora, it had been a bit hectic there. Actually, a big solar flare had almost frozen their equipment, and despite all the precautions, some of it filtered through the simulation. Water had leaked too, which could have been a disaster, but interestingly, it had given some of them a purpose, and all in all, it didn’t become the dreaded event they all feared. Even if all the ins and outs and communications were filtered, you couldn’t rule out a blunder. Especially with the lack of gripping activity.

                          Something biped on his screen. A red button was suddenly lit. He’d never been trained to know what the red button meant. He had to refer it to his superior. Oh God, I hope she’ll be in a good mood… Since she started her special diet and had lost so much weight, Finnley Morgan was always a bit unpredictable and snappily dangerous.

                          The irony of the ever-calm and dulcet AI named Finnley after her in the simulation wasn’t lost on him…

                          #3756
                          TracyTracy
                          Participant

                            Sally Salamander sought solace, sedately, serenely, surreptitiously slinking slyly sideways so slippery she seemed somewhat stoic and stalwart. Several stunned seedy souls slipped suddenly, sensing the sound of silence.

                            #3744

                            In reply to: The Hosts of Mars

                            ÉricÉric
                            Keymaster

                              Prune was listening to Maya and Yz, not daring to talk, much less to disagree.
                              Yz was back to the planet from her maintenance drill on the mothership, and had found their remote outpost overloaded with new clueless settlers.
                              Now, even Maya, who was always the understanding one was fuming at the vexing situation and couldn’t help but complain about the new Mars settlers’ manners (or lack thereof). The matter was of importance, but somehow Johnny couldn’t help but find it hilarious.

                              Johnny! Stop laughing, it’s not at all funny!”
                              “I’m sorry, it’s the nerves!” he replied “I didn’t want to poke fun at your horror story, Mum.”
                              “You damn right, it IS a bit of a horror story. Well, I don’t know what kind of a story it is. These new settlers that moved here are disorganized conflict and chaos all the time. And now nobody has a permit for sand scooter but me. So everything I do takes me 6 times as long with everyone else… and its hot!”

                              She paused a little, smiling at Prune, then turned to Yz, who seemed equally annoyed by the recent mess.

                              Prune ventured a word “But you really love the idea of cooperative community sharing, don’t you.”
                              Maya nodded, then continued “but it sucks! IT SUCKS!… and it’s all a bit weird too. It’s a daily juggle with what I’m willing to say yes to, and where I draw the line and say no.”

                              She sighed. “But some of it is fun, obviously. But much of it isn’t. I think everyone is struggling with finding themselves disconcertingly in a totally new place.
                              The new place for me is never being alone to do anything, where before I almost always was, and really wanted people to do things with. But they are LATE and I can do things on my own easier.
                              I prefer being a hermit while preaching about community. And doing things my own way while pushing for cooperation!”

                              It didn’t help that Maya had agreed to help organize the event for Mother Shirley (though the party had changed the event location to the nearby fancier townlet of Romars without notice, instead of their rugged but peaceful village).

                              The event had attracted the usual throng of nuts and illuminated sycophants, which would have dissolved just as well, if not for an unusual occurrence: Mother Shirley had claimed to have a divine vision by merging consciousness with the AI of the ship. She had seen floods and rains. Image that! As if water on Mars, was not ludicrous enough, now floods!
                              All of a sudden, all hell broke loose and the religious nuts managed to create a panic, and had loads of people rush for the higher ground… Well, you guessed, to their previously quiet outpost.

                              Of course, she had said nothing of the water-rocks she and John had found. Better not to encourage the nutters.

                              Strange new place, indeed…

                              #3715

                              In reply to: Scrying the Word Cloud

                              TracyTracy
                              Participant

                                journey following maps helped sorry karmalott edge morning ship lazuli
                                check wonder stick follow meet purple thanks suddenly stood family seem

                                #3674

                                Corrie:

                                I was offering the plate of mince pies to Mr Cornwall, who had been coaxed out of his room for the first time in ages and was sitting next to the gum tree sapling that Aunt Idle had strung with fairy lights in lieu of a Christmas pine, when they arrived. We were all surprised to hear the taxi hooting outside, that is, except Bert. I heard him mumbling something about “She bloody meant it, the old trout,” but I didn’t remember that until later, with all the commotion at the unexpected guests.

                                “Here, take the lot,” I said, shoving the mince pies on the old guys lap, as I rushed to the door to see who it was. A tall autocratic looking woman swathed in beige linen garments was climbing out of the front seat of the taxi, with one hand holding the pith helmet on her head and the other hand gesticulating wildly to the others in the back seat. She was ordering the taxi driver to get the luggage out of the boot, and ushering the other occupants out of the car, before flamboyantly spinning around to face the house. With arms outstretched and a big smile she called, “Darlings! We have arrived!”

                                “Who the fuck it that?” I asked Clove. “Fucked if I know” she replied, adding in a disappointed tone, “Four more old farts, just what we bloody need.”

                                “And a baby!” I noted.

                                Clove snorted sarcastically, “Terrific.”

                                Suddenly a cloud of dust filled the hall and I started to cough. Crispin Cornwall had leaped to his feet, the plate of mince pies crashing to the floor.

                                Elizabeth! Do my eyes deceive me, or is it really you?”

                                Godfrey, you old coot! What on earth are you doing here, and dressed like that! You really are a hoot!”

                                “Why is she calling him Godfrey?” asked Prune. “That’s not his name.”

                                “He obviously lied when he said his name was Crispin Cornwall, Prune. We don’t know a thing about him,” I replied. “Someone had better go and fetch Aunt Idle.”

                                #3673
                                TracyTracy
                                Participant

                                  “Who else is coming? Don’t remind me, I can’t bear it,” Elizabeth said fretfully while Norbert opened and closed his mouth like a goldfish.

                                  “I have an idea!” she announced suddenly, standing up and crushing a mince pie that had rolled under her desk. “Gather round, come on, come on!”

                                  Arona Haki shuffled in with the dustpan and mop, as Finnley blew her nose loudly and wiped the tears from her eyes. Norbert stood silently, waiting.

                                  “It wouldn’t matter WHO came,” Liz paused for effect, “If none of us were here!”

                                  “But we are here, aren’t we,” remarked Finnley. Norbert and Haki murmured in agreement.

                                  “We are now!” replied Liz, “But we could be gone in an hour! We could go and visit my cousin ~ third cousin twice removed, actually ~ in Australia. They have an old inn and it’s sure to be half empty, it’s in the middle of nowhere, and,” she added triumphantly, “It will be lovely and warm there!”

                                  “Blisteringly hot, more like,” muttered Finnley, “And would they like unexpected visitors for Chri, er Kri, er, that date on the calendar?”

                                  “I’m sure they’d be delighted, “ replied Liz, crisply. “Not everyone is as curmudgeonly about Chri, er, Kri, er that date on the calendar as we are. And anyway,” she added, “If I write it into the story that they are delighted, then they will have no option but to be pleased to see us.”

                                  “If you bloody lot are coming to the Flying Fish Inn, I’m buggering off to Mars for the holidays” said Bert.

                                  Elizabeth spun round, saying sharply, “Bert! Get back to your own thread this instant! The bloody cheek of it, thread hopping like that, really!”

                                  #3671
                                  TracyTracy
                                  Participant

                                    Elizabeth suddenly felt overwhelmed with loving kindness, and hugged everyone. “I am so sorry I’m a sourpuss at times, I love you all.”

                                    While everyone was speechless, she continued: “This is indeed a trying and difficult season at times, despite our best efforts to eradicate it from our calendars. The social constructs of cheer and goodwill must never be confused with acquiescing to the pressures of the needy, if the needy resort to emotional blackmail and bullying. Indeed, it is a kindness to all concerned, not least ones own self, to refuse to kowtow simply because of the date on the calendar!”

                                    “Hear! ……Hear!” said Norbert slowly.

                                    “Blimey,” muttered Finnley, while Arona Haki whistled and said “Bloody heel!”

                                    “Waaaahh wahhhha!” cried the cold baby shivering on the patio.

                                    “Oh my god, the fucking baby!” Elizabeth shouted, leaping up and running outside, and accidentally tipping over the sherry bottle and the plate of mince pies.

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