Daily Random Quote

  • “Do you ever wonder what happens to your people when you’re not there, Dan?” Elizabeth asked, still drowsy from spending the morning lolling around on the bed, reading and napping. “Why, yes, I do” he replied, which surprised Elizabeth somewhat. “Do you make them do things, and then wonder if they really wanted to do that? Like ... · ID #3716 (continued)
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  • #3340

    I’ve been such a fool! Running away like that! Fanella admonished herself, biting her nails and pacing up and down in her room. I wasn’t paying attention! I should have stayed with that funny man, now I feel sure he would have taken me to that island in 2121 if I had just been patient instead of running off like that!
    Fanella heard a man laughing, and spun around, but there was nobody there. Dear god, I’m hearing things now, she thought.
    “I’m coming to get you, you daft bint, just hang on and don’t go anywhere!” Sanso told her via telepathic means. “We have a few other calls to make as well, but I will come and fetch you first, even if I have to use every shoehorning trick in the book. Now stop sniveling and I suggest you dress appropriately.”
    Fanella started sobbing, unsure whether it was relief or apprehension.
    “There, there,” Sanso said kindly. “You have a good cry, it will do you good.”

    #3336

    “Who the fuck stuck all these disgusting patches all over me?” Lisa shouted when she noticed them, and thus promptly forgot her dream. “Why have you gone so red in the face, Jack?”
    In an attempt to deflect the attention from himself, he countered: “Why were you standing on the table?”
    Lisa rose to the bait and replied that she was assessing the possibility of hanging the new map mannequin, the one that wouldn’t stand up on her own, from the beams on the kitchen ceiling.
    “I feel inspired to continue the map collage, now that I have an idea for where to put her when she’s finished.”
    Jack yawned, somewhat rudely.
    Lisa angrily pulled another patch off her left buttock. “You better be wondering what’s in your dinner later, Jack.” she said ominously.

    #3334

    “Hence the importance of complimenting a child on his first poops” were the concluding words of the lecture by Choanna Doyle, PhD, under a loud burst of applause.

    Sadie was pleased to have joined the Happiness Institute alumni’s yearly conference and was handling leaflets to the parents who were thinking about enrolling their children.

    When everyone had left the blue and purple amphitheatre, decorated with pink ribbons and heart-shaped reflective balloons, she went back behind the pulpit to gather her bag, only to be startled by Choanna, who was still here while she was expected in the main hall for her book signing.

    “Interesting lecture” Sadie said, as a way to sound polite, as the doctor was probably more used to, and expecting over the top fan reactions.

    “Oh, not that interesting, but thank you for your polite protestations of interest” she said with a soft smile.

    Sadie couldn’t help but blush, being at a loss for words.

    “The crap…” Choanna said
    “What?!” Sadie was confused
    “I guess, that’s the crap that got you off. It does the same for most people. The poop comment is actually quite pertinent.”
    “I don’t doubt that.” Sadie didn’t know what to say, but was sure she wasn’t too keen on more poop conversation. When she’d came back to her apartment after being absent for more than a week in linear time during her network assignment, her pet rabbit had playfully hidden bits everywhere and it had taken her days to get rid ot them, and of the smell.

    But Choanna chose to ignore the cue, and continued “you have to acknowledge this is serious business for the children, it’s their first real creation. This is an important development step for the future adult.”
    Sadie nodded politely, dying to roll her eyes, but sending waves of hearts instead, to cancel out any potential poop jinx.
    “Later, you see, it also will help the adult to not throw in the towel at the first failure. Huhu, I like to quote this analogy, it’s like a sculptor who would throw a lump of clay on the ground and immediately complain that it didn’t turn out well at the first try…”

    Sadie wanted to leave, and butted in a timid “Sorry, but…”

    “Exactly. People are always sorry, but you see, I did something very interesting today. I have decided to only speak of it if it synched with the events of the day, and you provided me with the synch when I saw you flinch at the bottled water earlier during my presentation. Did you know that blind tests of the best tasting water consistently ranked tap water the tastiest ? Now, sewers and poop now seem relevant all of a sudden…”

    “I’m getting late for my signing, that was nice talking to you!” she concluded mysteriously before leaving in a huff “But think about it!”

    What a bizarre yet endearingly odd mad woman this one, bless her heart… was all Sadie could think after the dust had settled in her wake. And that blessed tart conveniently forgot to mention that interesting thing of hers…

    #3331

    “I’m so booooored” Amar sighed, after his eleventh 5-minute break of the morning was over.
    He looked at his polished nails, then at his two companions.
    “It’s so clean we could eat on that damn sewer’s floor, you should stop cleaning! Come on!”

    Reginald looked at him with pursed lips and a fist firmly planted on his hips “And, you are suggesting somethin’, or are you just going to rub it in some more?”

    “Hell yeah, if we’re going to be stuck here, we could redecorate, and make this place a bit more interesting. I’m thinking an underground club, with art deco sculptures and some bit of goth in the back, a stage with fat pole dancers, a disco ball and silver shimmer metallic glowing paint,… Don’t get me started!”

    “Sounds like a lot of work…” Reginald replied after a moment, giving no hint he was buying it.
    “But then, we ain’t got much to do, and I’ll be dying of boredom if we don’t shake this thing up. Count me in!”

    #3330

    With the aid of the holographic map, Irina, Mr R and little Greenie have been exploring the island.
    The next day they found a crashed plane from Aeroflot, not very far from their own landing spot. It was half burried in the mud and covered in green mossy vegetation. The doors were open as an irresistible invitation to enter.

    “A surprise, Mr R. I thought that this place was on your map. If I remember well, it didn’t show such an object.”
    “Forgive me, madam, indeed this plane wasn’t there when I triangulated the map I showed you.”
    “You mean it’s fresh ?” Irina’s voice seemed to suddenly carry some interest. “Maybe we can find some survivors”, she added, already doubting it considering all the moss on teh metallic shell.
    “I’m afraid we won’t, madam. I didn’t want to bother you with that little detail until I was sure. There are objects on this island that only appear after a certain date. Have you noticed it also happens with the vegetation and the insects ?”
    Irina pouted, “I prefer leaving that to your expertise.”
    “Of course, madam”, said the robot, affable. “The paradox is…”
    “Another paradox ? How interesting.”
    “…that it doesn’t seem to include us, or that little person.”
    “Any idea what the implications are ?” Irina began to wonder if there was any danger of being stuck permanently on this island.
    “I have several hypothesis”, he began, “The most probable is the lost room hypothesis. We arrived there through time space displacement and are not a natural part of this environment, hence we don’t change with its natural environment or inhabitants because we are not under it’s time sequence according to the Lehmon’s law.”

    Irina pouted. She looked at little greenie and thought of the implications about how their new friend arrived there. Whenre did she come from ? For her to be a bog mummy, she must have been there a long time. Or did she arrived already bogged ?
    Something caught her attention about the plane and distracted her of further thinking about the subject of their continuity risk in this place. The logo of the plane looked not so oldish.
    “Mr R. ? What do you think the date of the crash was ?”
    “The plane was lost in 2112.”

    Without further thought about safety, she entered the plane, followed first by little Greenie as she have been calling her new protegee, and by the robot who despite still talking about technicalities of accidental space time crossing theory, had turned on his speleo lights.

    Interestingly enough, Irina noted the clothes on the chairs or in the alleyways, here a pair of glasses, there a necklace, all layered as if the person wearing them had been puffed away.

    “Well, well, what have we here ? The light Mr R, please,” said Irina with as much excitement as a snail. He obliged her with his usual professionalism, revealing a teal blue scarf with pistachio green spirals. She took the cloth and stretched it to have a better look. It was one of those artistic kind of hippy abstract patterns connecting you to the cosmos.
    “I can’t think of anybody who would buy that thing, maybe she stole it from one of those duty free shops before they took off,” she said as petulantly as a pitfall trap.
    “Come here little Greenie, it’s time to make you pretty.”

    Irina did not have the chance to play with dolls when she was a kid, she didn’t know if she had some psychological lack or a bad doyle dating from that unremembered period of her life. She had compensated by toying with real people, playing with their emotions and deeper needs, or what they thought they needed. She became an expert at manipulating others, which gave her her first job in insurances, and then in the secret services. But then, she dealt with adults, showing emotions, or a certain level of brain activity. She wasn’t used to children stored in bogs.

    She tried to put the scarf on Greenie’s head, and to smile like she had seen people do in the movies. Although something unexpected happened. Greenie became suddenly distressed and agitated. Then, she punched Irina in the face and began to mumble incoherent things.
    That child is stronger than I thought. And at the same time, she noticed a name in that gibberish. Didnt she just shout : “I frigging love you, Sadie Merrie.”

    “Her brainwave is showing unusual activity”, stated Mr R. “And my sensors indicate the presence has returned, with some friends. They just appeared outside of the plane.”

    #3313

    When Jack had sent Lisa a message to ask if Fanella had joined her and Mirabelle in Portugal, she was worried.
    “Mirabelle, Fanella has disappeared, do you know anything about it?” asked Lisa. “Did she say anything to you that might give us a clue? Was she planning on going anywhere, did she have any friends outside the village? I know she homesick for 18th century Paris, but she couldn’t possibly have gone back ~ or could she?”
    “Bit of a dark horse, our Fanella,” replied Mirabelle. “Always down by that river on her own, reading that strange old book.”
    “Not Circle of Eights and Other Stories!”
    “Yes, that’s the one. She was practicing projecting to the places in the book.”
    WHAT?? Mirabelle, there’s no time to lose, we must go back to the village at once. If Fanella has been doing that, she could be anywhere, anywhere at all ~ and the trail will be a hard one to follow!”
    “But what about our holiday? And not only that, what about the strange tile that was stolen that we’re supposed to be looking for?”
    “The damn tile can wait.” snapped Lisa. “But I haven’t forgotten your arousing arms,” she added, her voice softening. “But we must find Fanella first.”

    ~~

    Lisa was not surprised to find on her return to the village that everything had descended into chaos. She knew that her responsibility belief about her herd tribe had something to do with it, and although she detested the word control, she was well aware of her propensity for monitoring and guiding the creatures and characters in her domain. The lifestyle in the village had relaxed her guidelines about fair play to some extent, but by golly some people were lazy slackers at times. But the one thing that got her goat was being kept in the dark. How could she keep a benevolent control if she wasn’t aware of what was going on? When she found out that Fanella had been making a granite box, and that she was the last to know, she was furious.

    #3309
    Jib
    Participant

      The boy was giving her a tour of the grounds in a monotonous voice.

      “The hotel is actually divided in several pavilions, each representing a culture of the world and designated by a special name. The 888 pavilion was built according to the principles of Feng Shui in order to bring health and prosperity to the clients.”

      And certainly money to the hotel, thought Linda Pol.

      “The water spring represents the flow of energy. It is made in such a way that customers can hear a peaceful gurgle of water when they enter the building. It helps regulate the emotions and bring stability in life.”

      Linda Pol couldn’t help but notice that it was also skillfully made so that the water was always returning towards the building. A sudden roar startled her. She was so engrossed in her Asian prejudices that she hadn’t seen the lions.

      The boy, who had certainly planned that, recited his reassuring script to rich customers.
      “These lions, one male and one female, are held in an invisible electro-magnetic cell, they can’t escape or harm you in any way. They are from the Asian species.”

      “You mean they are real ?” At first she had thought they were carefully made robots, holograms wouldn’t have done the trick in direct sunlight. But real lions ?
      “Don’t tell me”, she continued, “they are here to shoo away the ill-intentioned.” For a moment, she had the impression that the eyes of the boy had shifted to an Asian breed.

      “Madame knows her Feng Shui”, said the boy with a fake smile.

      Could he be a robot ? What the fuck, all her vanity wasted to a robot ? Where has gone that gorgeous boy who brought her the message ?
      You’re paranoid, ma fille, said her mother’s voice.

      #3301

      Without Mirabelle and Lisa around, trying to encourage her all the time but succeeding merely in making her feel harassed, Fanella had relaxed enough to achieve a remarkable degree of success with her teleport and projection practice. Projecting had been easy enough actually, but a full teleport was another matter. But she was encouraged by her successes with the projections, and the few seconds of full body teleporting here and there that she had managed.
      Her attempts to return to her original physical focus timeframe had been futile; there were mental and emotional blocks and too much associated baggage getting in her way, and her lack of a specific intention with other timeframes had led not unsurprisingly to random times and places which had been unsettling ~ at times alarming ~ resulting in her finding herself back where she started in no time at all.
      Fanella decided to pick a date and a location and be firm about it and unwavering.
      She chose a date and a location based on an old battered book she had found on the shelf in Lisa’s house. It was called Circle of Eights and Other Stories. Many a happy hour had she spent reading the book down by the river, a gloriously feast of imaginative tales, with no dull steadfast tiresome normal plot or structure. It had appealed to her greatly, and sparked many fantastic ideas and wonderings. She felt particularly attracted to the tale about the island in 2121, and decided to make that her specific teleport destination.

      #3291

      Jonbert’s arms nearly fell, when his pet robot blurted out the news.
      WHAT?!”
      It could only mean one thing, someone was purposely sabotaging his efforts to gain life everlasting. How else could the keys have been activated in the presence of the crystal. He had specifically designed it to be activated by his own DNA.
      Good thing at least it had sent a signal to the central computer of the submarine, otherwise he would have been in the dark before the questions were exhausted.

      “Bloody buggers will ruin all my chances with their silly questions” There was no time to think, only for action. He buttoned his kilt, buckled his heavy studded leather belt, and flushed the toilet where he was sitting and shouted “Bring my exosuit! No! Not the one with the tentacles! No, not the clam-like one, dammit! Are you deaf or what, the one with the pincers!”

      #3285

      Secretly, Sadie had a beautifully laid out plan in her head, like a vacation plan with stop-overs at luxury hotels, and activities to entertain the children.
      That made her slightly miffed about the succession of sidetrack adventures and the lack of focus of her protégés.

      The plan was simple enough, they had to take the magical crystal from under the whale’s noses, and get back to the closest Time sewer, where they could funnel up (her fancy verb for “complete”) the special reboot edition of the Time Draggler’s show.

      Surprisingly, Linda Paul’s interest and instructions seemed to have weakened and her usually generous and unwarranted input have been inordinately limited. Maybe the summer heat wave had mollified her, or her projects had shifted since the pilot of the Time Draggler’s show had failed to grab the network’s attention and fulfil its promises.
      She couldn’t say. But something in what the techromancer told her had stuck, and she couldn’t quite shake it out. “A train will come for you, and you will have to catch it, this Time is your train.”
      The hell if she knew what Time that was anyway.
      But one thing was sure, this one-time gig was growing on her, and she didn’t want to get back to dog food tasting. So one way or another, she’d have to make it work, and move the drag’s lazy butts to make a heck of an entertaining show.

      “Look! I vink vey’re over vere!” Maurana was getting the gist of the telepathic conversation.

      It was lucky the interior of the cave was lit, as outside the night had fallen like a cold black carpet on a pack of dust bunnies, dropping the water’s temperature. Luckily, the suits seemed to have their own warming as well as glowing mechanism.

      Terry was over Consuela, who seemed unconscious and in a REM sleep.
      “Hey! Consuela learnt your eye rolling technique!” Maurana gleefully tuned towards Sadie.
      “Don’t be silly, I think he’s in shock, pass me that electric eel, to wake that bitch up.” Terry was always for a bit of drama. It seemed to do the trick.

      “Woah, you can’t believe the stuff I’ve seen…” Consuela’s pupils were dilated so much it was hard to see the whites of her eyes.

      “Classic case of red algae intoxication, no need to consult the ezapper for that” Sadie said. “It is known that dolphins use it as a shamanic tool to astral. The concentration in these waters is surprinsingly high. Nothing than some fresh water can’t cure.” Too much time under water, she started to babble like a fish.

      The Time window wouldn’t stay indefinitely open. She needed to get them move, and take back her authority. With children like them, one thing that worked was to shake some shiny stuff in front of them and let them follow it.
      “Anyone interested in a Whale Queen’s Race?”

      #3283

      When Huhu arrived at his destination, Irina was sunbathing to the last rays of a big red gorgeous sunset that painted the waves in iridescent shades of purple.
      At the same time, the sun’s course had already started a new day on the shores of New Zealand, where her sister was living, and she surely would be thrilled. Long had she waited for the 2222-2-22 marker.
      Here, in Hawaii, they would still be in 2222-2-21, for a few more hours.
      Irina started to shiver. 22°C her watch read. As if she needed to be any more quirky about this date…

      “Good boy!” she said to the parrot, taking the key it was carrying. Huhu tittered in contentment, cracking some of the pistachios she fed him distractedly.

      She’d just received additional information from the Management. Elusive as usual, and leaving a great deal to interpretation, including the interdiction.

      They’d promised to get her her dream island as a retirement plan. Some said it was the original land of the mermaids (who used to have as much feathers as Rio Carnival’s samba dancers), right off Italy’s Amalfi’s coast. Among its perks, it boasted to incorporate 8 staff, and a private grotto — that, if anything else than her fine waist line, would surely entice Sanso into other steamy booty calls.
      She’d seen the pictures of the properties, her first thought though was that she needed to shoot the interior decorator. In short, it was almost her moral duty to get it, and change the decor. On the whole, she was convinced the island would do her good.

      So, when she looked back at the previous instructions to see how good she’d done on her mission’s objectives, she shrugged a little. She’d understood instinctively right when it was delivered that it was a clever cipher, especially given the late date shift. So she had reinterpreted the actual commands, and leisurely waited for the travellers to appear, and get comfy. By now, she was certain they trusted her telepathic commands well enough, so that solved the trust conundrum.
      Basically, she was a major proponent of her own interpretation of old Ho’oponopono rituals. Instead of the usual mantra “I love you. I’m sorry. Please forgive me. Thank you.” hers was a bit more straightforward and was around the lines of “Green sickness to you. Peace be with you, and bugger off.
      Said a few times with proper intonation and inner work, and it was know to her to alter dramatically any block or resistance into a great flow of pure unfettered energy. So she had adamant faith that all she needed to do to complete her mission was to focus on herself and solve the resistance within by letting go.

      The last message was short.

      22 the code * whale that * BO

      It could only mean one thing. 22 was a clever cipher meaning conundrum as in a catch 22, but also an obvious reference to the temperature. So it could only mean one thing: tamper with the code on the 22nd, and send it on the way to the whales, with a bug on it.

      “Mr R, please, fetch!”

      The discrete, yet always present robot caught the key with grace, and on her careful instructions, proceeded to alter the code of the key.

      Irina was enjoying herself immensely, and found it a pity nobody could witness her true genius. “The ones who’ll read that key later, well… they are in for such a wild goose chase!”
      The second part of St Germain’s encoded hologram was now ripe with wonderful and bewildering information about blubbits and the magic kingdom of Peasland with obscure and arcane references of magic numbers like 57, that would have anybody sane turn mad as a hatter in no time. Hopefully the whales would be immune to the nonsense, but probably not humans.

      Now was the final part of the plan.

      “Mr R?”
      “Madam?”
      “I hope you are ready for this delicate reinsertion mission. Do you still have that octopus suit of yours ready?”
      “Of course, Madam. Right away Madam.”

      #3282
      F LoveF Love
      Participant

        Livy and Me
        – a suspense novel
        by Flove

        “I’m going to need expensive Italian real estate, big, expensive Italian real estate.”

        He had not known love or loss until he risked losing his brave basket ball player Livvy.

        His contented life is shattered when he learns that the lazy Dead Kennedys plan to bankrupt Livvy and he knows he has to stop them or his heart will die.

        At 40, the Exercise Mat Salesman from Belgium is both delightful and friendly. But will it be enough to protect Livvy?

        He goes to a Basket ball tournament in Hawaii where he acquires some expensive Italian real estate and Scooters. It finally seems that he will be able to stop the Dead Kennedys that wish to bankrupt Livvy.

        However, when Livvy calls, begging him to come home, he is forced to decide what is more important: stopping the lazy Dead Kennedys that bankrupting each other, or preserving his relationship with his basket ball player?

        Flove delivers a brave and poignant story that explores the love between a Exercise Mat Salesman and his basket ball player.

        “Never have there been more chilling villains than lazy Dead Kennedys that bankrupt each other.”
        – The Daily Tale
        “Are we seriously supposed to find a delightful and friendly Exercise Mat Salesman from Belgium heroic?”

        #3281

        “Isn’t that the greatest thing about those underwater goggles”
        After the shark threat had vanished, Sadie had contemplated for quite some time her new-found underwater abilities, and how to shift the weight of her body gracefully underwater. And then, she realized she could roll her eyes in the most peculiar way, with the membrane of the transparent skin massaging her eyeballs in the most relaxing manner. She’d never felt so good about rolling her eyes, and that was saying something.

        “BrllllSssadiieeee” came the urging sound in bubbles and gurgles, with a hint of despair dragging her out of the lovely eyeball massage session. The underwater acoustics needed some fine-tuning, so she had her wits to thank for understanding quickly the situation.
        Despite what might have looked like her sending messages on her ezapper, at the same time she was having in-her-body experiences, she was merely testing experimental echo-localization to pinpoint the spot where the pod of whales would be most likely found. The feedback buzzing had prompted her minutes ago that it had found 6 potential spots, and one only which was the most probable and located less than an hour’s diving distance. One thing she knew was that you had to be careful with automatic location instructions, so she’d run a second independent check and was waiting for the results when the alarmed look of Maurana turned and rolled in front of her face, almost giving her a fright.

        “Gbbbllood gracious, Maurana, what’s the matter?”
        “Gbblbl wooohoooglllbb bbbllrsfffftt plk plk plk skwooobbll!”

        “Oh, for fucks sake,” she telepathied “will you stop nattering in French, be more articulate.”
        “The others are drowned and I no longer see them, it’s awful, what should we do?!” the thought came back with force and a bit of campiness.

        “Well, that would depend what it is you want” straight answers were not Sadie’s forte.
        “I want to have our party with costumes and dances, I want to be the black pearl of the Ocean, I want to have more glitter and less molluscs, more chic and less kelp…” she started to sob profusely, half-choking and breathing from her tears. “I want my friends, and to be back hooooome”
        “Bloody hell, Reggie, now is not the time to lose your shit, pull yourself together dammit.”

        The reaction was immediate, the telepathic swearing was so out-of-the-ordinary that Maurana looked twice at Sadie, with her bob cut surrounding her face like a heavenly halo. Suddenly self-conscious, Maurana started to reapply some waterproof mascara to cover the stains.

        “I found them,” said Sadie with infectious calm “the ezapper’s first scan took them for a pod of whales or octopi for some reason. Let’s go get them, then we go visit the whales. But first, you have to try this, it will soothe you…”, as she started to show some more rolling motion of her beautiful blue eyes.

        #3277
        Jib
        Participant

          It wasn’t important to the techromancer how long he had been living in this hut in Hawaii. A very special hut connected to many realities and times at once, a perfect representation of his mind. People would get lost in it, they did not understand how it worked. He just had to emit the intention of whenre he wanted to be and let his body follow the sound patterns. It worked very similarly to that sarcophagus in Giza. He helped in its making.

          For now, he simply wanted to take a bath. He didn’t like being in contact with too much light, which always triggered a benign itching, soon spreading across his pale skin, erupting in red patches that only long immersion in water would sooth. His little sister used to say he was a dollfinn. It seemed strangely distant and yet close to this time-space reality.

          The roughness of his rags didn’t help with the itching. He liked to think of them as his Jedi costume. The fabric, plain and rough, helped him remember that he was also made of flesh. A most difficult idea to keep in mind, as his was expanded in many times and realities at once. It helped cover his pale skin from light contact as well as create an aura of mystery with the few people who managed to find him. He had been most surprised by the last one, Sadie was her surface name. Memories of futures past rushed through his mind hut, momentarily disrupting the sound flux leading to the bathroom, and amplifying the itching. Now was not the right time and place.

          Darkness and stillness are the basic components of awareness, he focused on that simple thought that would bring him peace and stability of mind. Keep the floughts away. It was easy to understand that for him darkness was as light is for us.

          The bathroom he had chosen was in almost total darkness, for us. Even if it had a window, it was night outside. The window was only for the gentle breeze. He didn’t need light as his inner vision could see the patterns of movements of his reflected mind. He took off his rags. In the absence of light, his pale silhouette was almost glowing. The patches of red now looked like continents on a ocean of milk. One could notice a dark spot on his sacral bone. The tattoo of a black scorpio with a red dot. Red was also the color of his eyes. He was an albino, with red eyes like a rabbit.

          He sank into the water with a gush of pleasure piercing through his mind. The multidimensional walls of the hut trembled.

          #3276

          “Oh, fuck it” Maurana said when she saw Consuela darting ahead. “The bitch is going to tire and notice we’re all here waiting for the barmy robot to pick us up… I guess… eventually?”

          But Consuela was paying no attention, and continued until it would take too much effort to swim and catch her. Maurana felt a moment of panic. What about the others? Terry seemed still here, doing rounds and laps in her sardine colours, while Sadie seemed to catch her underwater breath. Maybe they should all wait for Sadie’s instructions, she always knew what to do.
          “Let’s just hope that darn e-zapper of hers is waterproof” she bubbled in giggles.

          #3274
          TracyTracy
          Participant

            This is a different kettle of fish altogether from my last diving experience, Consuela was thinking. Why, this is such fun, I can not resist exploring further. Bugger those elusive tentacles, I simply must see what’s around the next bend in this watery tunnel.
            Right or left? she wondered when a side tunnel branched off. She had a vague idea that turning left was perilous, so she turned right, and shortly came to a junction of eight cave tunnels leading up, down and sideways. One of the tunnels had a sign over the entrance crafted from purple limpets, saying “Get Your Mermaid Shoehorns Here”. Another tunnel entrance had a sign made of artificially manipulated pink coral saying “Willy Wave’s Wigs ~ new tentacle and seaweed designs” which was tempting, but it was the “Bloater’s Floater Bar” that seemed the most attractive choice of the moment. Consuela was curious to meet the inhabitants of this unexpected world, and the enticement of a “free cork floating bums with your first plankton smoothie” was hard to resist.

            #3273

            Consuela was always the more independent and adventurous. She didn’t realise at first that there was something not quite right about the perilous situation.

            Breathing under water was strange, and it felt like a not quite adjusted piece of garment (an ill-motherfucker-fitted thong Maurana would have said), as though her lungs were filled with a light yet mucous fluid.
            They’d all struggled and kicked the water in violent spams in the beginning, thinking they were about to die when the wetsuit automatic mucusbags went off, as a security measure for drowning, she’d guessed.
            But then, the magic happened and they realised they could breathe like fishes.
            Then the shark panic attack happened, which left them swimming for their lives with their prosthetic fins (and more or less graceful movements). But the shark didn’t seem interested after all, or it was driven away by a more juicy prospect, because they soon found themselves following a strange string of parallel lighted dots that dived deeper under water like an oddly placed seacraft runway. At least, that was what she thought at first, until she arrived at the cave’s entrance and realized nobody was actually following her.

            The others didn’t follow… She only had to hope that they would catch her later with a taxi or something…
            The thought of being able to discover the underwater cave trumped all sense of caution, and the lure of the prized crystal of exotic properties was enough to send her further down, despite the feeling of flashing tentacles creeping around in her peripheral vision, then gone in an instant the moment she turned the head around…

            #3271
            TracyTracy
            Participant

              Pseu realized with an unpleasant jolt that she had been neglecting the dragglers for far too long while she’d been sojourning in the City, and for one dreadful moment realized that she had completely lost track of them, and that they might be in danger. She excused herself politely, not that a polite excuse was necessary amongst such wide and weird souls, and sent some tentacles of attention in search of the dragglers.
              She heard sounds of watery warbles and burbling blips like farts in a bath and wondered for a moment if all was well and she was being intrusive. Bathrooms were generally considered out of bounds, particularly when time travelling or remote viewing pre 2020. But something about the sounds started to register as a language, and Pseu continued to listen, though still observing the protocol blindfold, as it were, not wishing to disturb anyone’s private bathing rituals. Were farts in a bath a kind of language, she wondered? Had she been missing out on potentially valuable information by not paying attention?

              #3269

              Gliding through layers of consciousness, Belen carried her precious cargo of the Santa Maria and its birds towards her destination.
              There were various variations of the same 2222, and she carefully adjusted the course along the 202 years gap, so as to swim to her favourite version of it. It required much love work on her part, addressing, piecing and peacing off many parts of human consciousness, while at the same time tenderly caring for the memories stored with her immense ghost body.
              The 2020 version they had just left, she knew, was already on the proper track towards global enlightenment. There were still horrors, concerns and anxiety about the course of the future, but with a greater perspective, it looked like the positive actions were gaining momentum and leaning towards a brighter fuller and richer future.

              She could feel the Contact Crystal pulsate steadily and it opened her blowhole chakra. Blowing her mind, as it were.

              The Big Island was like a beacon, with the flows of lava rippling heatwave signatures in the ocean, and it didn’t take long to enter the stream that would lead them to the pod and the meeting point.

              As she sensed they’d arrived in 2222, and that they were floating on the surface of a calm ocean, she gently opened the energy bubble sealing the ghost and alive cargo of birds and vegetation, so they could breathe in the pure air and enjoy discovering around.

              “Belen, look at you, not a ounce more of blubber since we last met! You ought to tell me how you keep so fit”
              “Batshatsassani!” Belen was pleased the see the great female orca who’d come to greet her.
              “Still with your entourage, it seems” her friend said without a hint of malice, blowing a few rings of bubbles around in a relaxed manner. “Let me accompany you to the ceremony.”
              “With great pleasure, dear. Rest assured, I won’t carry my entourage along for the time of the ceremony.”
              “It would have been cumbersome, no?” Oftentimes humour (and irony in particular) were a lost subtlety on the orca’s mind. Belen just smiled to answer, revealing a great range of ghostwhite perfect baleens.

              As they swam their way along the beautiful clear ocean, they were greeted by a pod of joyously rambunctious great dolphins, a good half size bigger than their common dolphins cousins she’d seen swimming near the coasts of Portugal. The leader of the pod was doing acrobatics to retrieve and play with a funny scarf made of colorful feathers. It was no surprise the dolphins were playing games, really. That or chasing food took the best of their time. But the scarf was the strangest thing Belen had seen in a long time and it triggered some kind of forgotten memory. Odd thing for her to not remember a memory, unless it was from another probable dimension… She followed the urge to ask.

              “Were did they get that?”
              “Oh, it’s nothing important… Four strange aquatic thingies went down earlier this morning, making a whole lot of noise around. They looked like one of those aliens, but so clumsy we thought they were probably sickly and left there to die by their tribe. The ‘phins took the fancy red gills from one of them.”
              “Are you serious? Are they OK?” Belen huge heart felt panicky at the thought of the small creatures left to die without help.
              “Of course they are, I knoooow we have to keep our reputation, you know. Where they are now, I’m not too sure. But the octopi from the camouflage squad are on it, following them. According to the last I know, the aliens have been lost for awhile in the underwater caves. When they’re exhausted, we’ll send them somewhere else… Can’t attract too much attention to ourselves, with the ceremony and all…”

              #3267

              “You have a tentacle hanging down your chin Mirabelle” remarked Lisa, reaching for her camera.
              Mirbelle obligingly waited while Lisa took a photo, though she was not at all sure why she wanted a picture of it.
              “I don’t know anything about holidays. Are holidays about eating tentacles on the beach, then?” she asked.
              “Well, they can be about that yes, but not entirely. There are lots of things to do on holidays” replied Lisa.
              “Like what? Why do people have holidays?”
              “A short break from working every day usually, although people who don’t work take holidays too. For a change of scenery, and a rest. Although holidays aren’t always about rest ~ some people get very little rest and walk all day, or cycle or something. People in colder climates often want a holiday in the sun, and people who live inland often want a holiday by the sea. In fact” Lisa continued, “Some people spend all year dreaming about a holiday by the sea, in the sun.”
              “If they love the sea and the sun so much, why don’t they just move to the coast then?”
              “Well some of us do! Then we go to a city for our holiday, because it’s different I suppose.”
              “So a holiday is a for a change, then? Because people like a change?”
              “Only if it’s a holiday, I mean, people usually resist change ~ unless it’s a holiday.”
              “But if you changed something at home and didn’t go anywhere else, would that be a holiday?”
              “Only if you had time off work, otherwise it wouldn’t be a holiday.”
              “But if you changed something at work, wouldn’t that be a holiday?”
              “Well no not really, that kind of change usually pisses people off.”

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            • “Do you ever wonder what happens to your people when you’re not there, Dan?” Elizabeth asked, still drowsy from spending the morning lolling around on the bed, reading and napping. “Why, yes, I do” he replied, which surprised Elizabeth somewhat. “Do you make them do things, and then wonder if they really wanted to do that? Like ... · ID #3716 (continued)
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