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  • #2955
    ÉricÉric
    Keymaster

      While stroking his mustache fondly, Ed Steam had the clearest realization that although he’d done that quite a few times in the past mostly to his advantage, it was a lot of work to rewrite timelines and figure out the hows and whens of everyone in his team.
      Maybe it was actually time for him to restore the original timeline while disappearing — by faking his own death to be certain nobody would thwart his carefully thought retirement plan. Then, he could also stop dyeing his mustache he figured… So many things to take care of, retirement would be so sweet.
      Although the Egyptian timeturner gave him all the time in the world, he actually felt like he’d lost already a great deal too much of it, and started to enact his plan without further ado.

      Procuring a body double was actually not so hard. The last surge had brought a few of them in Thrifteen’s Alley in their Moreguest Facility. A switch and a twist of the pocket portal and a zap and a blink of the miniaturizer was enough to get there and come back in seconds with a frozen pocket-size life-suspended body from the testing stock, with convincing enough miniaturized slim lips, safely put in a test tube in his waistcoat pocket.
      A six-shot cudgel from his artefact war trove was all he needed to make sure the amateur assassin in red robes they’d hired would be taken care of easily.
      Then, an enscombulator bedazzler ray spray would be enough to convince Mari Fe she’d managed to hit him, buying him time enough to then deminiaturize the thawed slim-lipped body double, to slip in his stead.
      Last, but not least, he would then have a few seconds to discombobulize Mari Fe while disappearing with a backup transportable portal. The plan was perfect. The original timeline restored in pristine conditions.
      Only for a few minor details of course. He’d almost forgotten to reprogram the mini-man in his pocket with enough memories for him to be a convincing Ed-himself sans la moustache of course. At least, for the short time he would survive (surge victims discovered still alive were placed in life suspension by the team, but this was mostly for medical analysis as they usually wouldn’t survive their conditions).
      Oh, and the bloody mustache of course… A squeeze of foolicle solventilator would be enough to make it temporarily invisible.

      Simple enough… Well, sandbagging Mari Fe would have probably conveyed similar results with minimal efforts, although the elegance of his plan, as well as the fact that he was loath to hit ladies did unmistakably weight in favour of it.

      And with that, he would be back in time for dinner.
      In fact, he already was.

      #2939

      Arona felt something was wrong. The invisibility cloack was moving on its own. She looked around and met Vincentius eyes. He seemed as puzzled as her. Actually, the cloack was moving upward. She looked behind her and gasped. Yikesi was almost as tall as herself. Actually, it seemed now that he was a bit taller than her, and he was still growing.

      Pearl screamed. She just saw what looked like feet appearing from nowhere, and legs were growing on top of these feet.

      Janet fall from Vincentius’ lap, the cloack was now only covering Yikesi’s head, which was big.
      Vincentius let the teapot fall on the floor, where it broke into hundreds of pieces. Bee and Mari Fe were upside down, and in all that confusion, the cat who was very specific in his vision spotted them. Despite his intelligence and his other dimensional quality, his instincts, reinforced by thousands of years of habits, influenced him deeply into the natural feelings of the hunter. He began to hiss and prepare himself to jump on his preys. But Arona was pushed by the still growing Yikesi and fall upon him in a ouch.

      Mari Fe, totally oblivious to what could have happened with the cat saw the gigantic body of a baby missing its head. The cloack was still big enough to hide it from sight.

      “Rats”, she said, “He ate all the jelly babies, we’re stuck into miniatures!”

      #2924
      Jib
      Participant

        Janet took a heavy stickman and smashed it on the worker’s head.

        “Damn it! Janet! What have you done ?” Pearl was beginning to wonder about that hit and smash epidemy. Would she be the next to succumb ? She resisted a strong impulse to smash Janet’s head with what appeared to be a wooden hyppopotamus and took a deep breath.

        “I don’t know”, Janet said with a little girl’s voice.
        “Oh! Be serious for a moment and stop breathing your helium balloon for Roaster’s sake!”
        Janet continued with the same voice, “At least we can throw them all through the portal now, can’t we ? Sorry, I won’t do that again…”

        “Roaster! That man with the vermillion robes is so heavy”, complained Pearl.
        “Maybe we can throw the portal at them and see what happens”, said Janet.

        Pearl considered the idea for a few seconds, it was very tempting, but also so contrary to what they have been taught about portals, that it gave her chills. It could swallow the entire village, and the two Chicks in the same gulp.

        “The story has just begun said Pearl, we can’t do that.”

        #2919
        F LoveF Love
        Participant

          Mari Fe waited till Dru was inside before hitting him over the head with the vintage wooden rooster Sir Ed used as a doorstop.

          After considering various flight-or-fight scenarios, Mari Fe decided that a hasty departure was the path of least resistance.

          #2914
          TracyTracy
          Participant

            “I wish I knew, Ed. And don’t call me Chicken!” she added crossly. Mari Fe wasn’t sure what to do next. She needed to keep an eye on Ed, but she needed to revive Baltazar and get him in place for the exchange of the Kings during the parade.

            “Help me carry him up to the attic, Ed. I’ll tie him up and we can decide what to do with him later.” and then exclaimed, “ Oh lordy, what now!” as the doorbell rang. It was Rogelio from next door, the man who was to play the part of Baltazar in the parade.

            Mari Fe didn’t know what to do so she hit him over the head with a handy tagine that was displayed on her old Micronesian teak cabinet.

            “Firmly handled, Chicken”, Ed said, “But why on earth would you do that ?”

            “Don’t call me Chicken!” Mari Fe replied, thinking to herself I really must stop resorting to violence. “Help me carry him up to the attic, and we’ll tie him up with B… with that man.”

            Halfway up the stairs Mari Fe had an impulse to hit Ed over the head, with the detachable head of one of her mannequins. Plunging headlong from one disaster to another, she wished she had done it after the other two bodies were already in the attic. Now she had three large men cluttering up her stairs, and nobody to help her carry them up to the attic.

            “I’m in a pickle now”, she said. “I hope Bee arrives soon, with Janet and Pearl.”

            #2897
            TracyTracy
            Participant

              The ten dogs circled the round kitchen table, all the eyes were focused on the left over roast potatoes including Mari Fe’s. Suddenly there was a little bang just in front her and she froze and glanced up. A mouse had appeared on top of the microwave, and he froze too, and stared at Mari Fe. Time stood still for a long moment as they looked at each other. Mari Fe wondered if he would like a Marie biscuit, remembering the last time he was here, and how he would only nothing else.
              It wasn’t until later that she began to wonder if anything had gone wrong with the teleport arrangements with Baltazar. It was a remarkable coincidence, the time travel mouse popping in like that unexpectedly, after such a long absence.

              #2891
              TracyTracy
              Participant

                At approximately 11:11 Pearl heard a whoosh and a whoot, and then a loud thump. “Hop in, Pearl! toot! toot! Oh, and sorry about the porch swing, didn’t see it under all that snow” Bee was grinning from ear to ear. “First time I’ve used the snowmobile ski option, it’s a riot, haven’t quite got the hang of it yet though, but boy is it ever fun!”

                Pearl laughed and hugged Bee. “It’s great to see you! I love your hat!” It was an elaborate blue turban, over the top with feathers and jewels. “Looks fabulous against all that snow, very delft. You know, you could have just used the portal to avoid all that snow! Janet!” Pearl spotted Janet in the back of the red car, who was picking herself up off the floor, and adjusting her pointy hat.

                “But the journey was so much fun!” Janet said. “We bumped into Skolt, the travelling reindeer pee salesman, in Minnesota.”

                “I hope you saved some for me!” replied Pearl. “I’ve got the moonshine, let’s party!”

                #2881
                TracyTracy
                Participant

                  Baltazar made a face as he swallowed the time travel sickness pill. “Could have made them smaller” he grumbled.

                  Intu rolled her eyes. “Stop being such a jess and take this” she said, handing him a smoking frothing potion in a tall silver cup. “For the side effects of the Replicator.”

                  “I hate this time of year. Trying to be in a hundred places at once, all because of that stupid tradition.”

                  “How do you think I feel?” asked Jesus. “At least you don’t have to wear a nappy.”

                  “It’s not a nappy, it’s swaddling clothes. Haven’t they finished with all that religion stuff yet?” said Baltazar. “Maybe if we just don’t turn up, it will bring the end forward? Can’t we just stay here in Tartessos? Bugger their parades, I’m not going again.”

                  Intu gasped. “Baltazar, you can’t let me down now. This might very well be the last time, if everything goes according to plan. I tell you what, I’ll make a deal with you. I’ll arrange for you to meet the reindeer pee travelling salesman on the way.”

                  #2846

                  In reply to: Tales of Tw’Elves

                  ÉricÉric
                  Keymaster

                    After his epic escape, Loard Koala had found refuge, unbeknownst to even the shrewd and some said foxy Ted Marshall, in the depths of the Great Green Wall of Afraka. There, under swarms of migrating magpies cackling like a horde of harridans lamenting about the miseries of their existences, he was planning his return… secretly hoping for a celestial pardon from the Elvens.
                    From the top of a towering eucalyptree, smoking a large makeshift cigarillo from its leaves, he could see Canaria and its bountiful promise of a new world, and sighed contentedly.

                    #2092

                    In reply to: Tales of Tw’Elves

                    ÉricÉric
                    Keymaster

                      “Now what? T-R-E-X ? To be serious?…” Eliza was patronizing again. “What’s a Trex, by all means? That’s not even in the dictionary, I’m sure!”
                      “As if you’d started to care” Flinella rolled her eyes, while at the same time managing to discreetly wink in passing at the little reptile whose tail was wrapped around her neck as though it were the latest fashion. “By the way, it spells T-Rex, you dimwit.”
                      “Well, good for you sweetie, it only scores a measly 21 points.” Eliza bit her lip ignoring the offending remark. Then hit by a sudden realisation, she stopped dead in her tracks, all thoughts of vexation lost in the current wave of thought.
                      “Wow, I’d never thought of that, but just imagine the size of those dinos’ fleas … Makes me shudder at the thought of it.”

                      #2749

                      In reply to: Tales of Tw’Elves

                      TracyTracy
                      Participant

                        Luigi, preoccupied with worried thoughts about Flinella who he still hadn’t heard from, didn’t see the eu de nil motor scooter haring round the corner until it was too late. The scooter swerved, avoiding a head on collision, but clipped his shoulder, spinning him around. Luigi crashed into a signpost and fell to the ground. Shocked and dazed, he lay sprawled on the ground, unable to get to his feet. The narrow street was deserted, apart from a couple of tourists strolling along, looking upwards, as tourists so often do in foreign cities.

                        “Stupid irresponsible motorscooters, they should watch where they’re going” Luigi was saying, “Knocking old men to the ground like that, they should be more careful!”

                        This caught the tourists attention, so they stopped for a moment to look at the old man lying bruised on the ground. “You shouldn’t blame the motorscooter you know” said the woman. “You created that yourself”

                        “What are you talking about?” Luigi replied. “Please give me a hand, I can’t get back on my feet.”

                        “Well you created it, chum. I’m not going to give you a hand until you stop blaming the motorscooter and admit that you created it yourself.”

                        “Oh piss off, you vacuous fuckwit” replied Luigi, looking desperately around to see if there was anyone more helpful in the street.

                        #2794
                        ÉricÉric
                        Keymaster

                          (#235)
                          Well I think for you, said a green creature, to Roselyn. The creature had been there as some sort of exotic plant. I am Frowdup an unusual little Fairy Princess, rather antisocial, sadly.
                          Frowdup cleared his significant sort of way. I will try sad succinct and precise possible, he said.
                          Fairy Princess initiate a witch to magical design the cave with sand. You fly.

                          The creature had stopped Frowdup.

                          #2824

                          In reply to: Snowflakes of Tens

                          ÉricÉric
                          Keymaster

                            “Le tunnel”, as they called it now, had become a high-class French restaurant for bugs of all layers of bugsociety.
                            Crawlers, diggers and blood-suckers everywhere came for the most refined feast of meals imaginable. Roasted snail on shelly, topped with sherry sour cream with gorelick sauté and poursley purée was today’s special. Heck Thor and Walty Creemlon wouldn’t have missed it for anything and drooled of envy waiting behind the line of roaches who’d been camping there all night to be the first.

                            [link: tunnel]

                            #2742

                            In reply to: Strings of Nines

                            TracyTracy
                            Participant

                              “Minky!” called Winky, “Hey Minky, yesterdays attraction was tops, loved it! Great tour!”

                              “Ah” replied Minky, after a long pause. “What was it that appealed to you the most?” he asked, fishing for clues. He had no recollection of organizing any excursions.

                              “The Pop In, in that old Charlie Chaplin movie, very clever, I wasn’t expecting that!”

                              “Aha! Yes!” Thinking quickly, Minky added “I had a feeling you’d like that one”.

                              #2715

                              In reply to: Strings of Nines

                              TracyTracy
                              Participant

                                “It has been metaphysically proven” (Mandrake snorted rather rudely, interrupting Arona’s retort) “That cheap copies sold in markets are just as effective as brand name products.” Arona glared at the cat and continued, “The only difference is in the mind of the buyer. In fact, one could go so far as to say ~ although one wouldn’t, normally ~ that buyers of brand name products are…”

                                “Don’t say it!!” shouted Mandrake, looking anxiously over his shoulder, “Don’t say it!”

                                Arona stopped in her tracks, wondering what on earth was the matter with Mandrake.

                                #2812

                                In reply to: Snowflakes of Tens

                                TracyTracy
                                Participant

                                  The entrances to Faerie (and indeed to other alternate realities and dimensions) had been shrouded in disbelief for several centuries, but times were changing and the fog of scepticism was dissipating, evaporating like river mist on a hot summer morning. Looking for the entrances deliberately, Blithe found, wasn’t the most efficacious method. Sat Nav alone would be unlikely to reveal them, unless the locating device was used in conjunction with impulse and intuition. Any device and method could be used effectively when combined with random impulse, even Google Earth or Google Moon. Blithe’s friend and colleage Dealea Flare was making good use of this device on her travels, using it as a personal non physical airline and space shuttle service. Dealea could get from A to B and back again in no time at all, or even from A to well beyond Z and back again in no time at all using this device in conjunction with impulse and large dose of intention and focus. Blithe had the impulse down pat but still had difficulty with the focus, which was largely a case of having too many intentions at once, most of them somewhat vague.

                                  The more random and impulsive Blithe was, the better her investigations went, often leading her into a new and exciting exploration which may or may not be linked to the current intention. Such was the case when she went on a mundane shopping trip to the Rock of Gibber. As she sat sipping coffee at the Counterpart Cabana sidewalk cafe listening to the locals conversing in Gibberish, she noticed the extraordinary tangle of pipework on the building opposite. It reminded her of the steampunk world she had been investigating in her spare time. The text book steampunk world was intriguing to say the least, but rather grim, and tediously full of victims and fear. The inhabitants always seemed to be running away from someone. The steampunk world she was beginning to sense in Gibber was quite different in that it was a sunny cheerful alternate reality held together with a vast labyrinthine network of water pipes, scaffold, and connecting cables.

                                  Blithe paid for her coffee and strolled off, noticing more and more scaffolding and tangles of pipes as she climbed the warren of narrow winding streets. The air was different the higher she climbed up the winding uneven steps, the sunlight was sharper and the shadows denser, and there was a crackling kind of hush as if the air was shimmering. Cables festooned the crumbling shuttered buildings like cobwebs, and centuries of layers of crackled sun faded pastel paint coated the closed doors. Open doors revealed dark passageways and alleys with bright rectangles of light glowing in the distance, and golden dry weeds sprouted from vents and windowsills casting dancing shadows on the uneven walls.

                                  The usual signs of life were strangely absent and present at the same time; an occasional voice was heard from inside one of the houses, and there were pots of flowers growing here and there, indicating that a human hand had watered them with water from the pipe network. There was no music to be heard though, or any indication that the cable network was in use, and there were virtually no people on the streets. A lady in a brilliant blue dress who was climbing the steps from Gibber Town below paused to chat, agreeing with Blithe who remarked on the peaceful beauty of the place. The lady in blue said “Si, it’s very nice, but there are many steps, so many steps. If you are coming from below there are SO many steps!”

                                  There was a boy watching a white dog watching an empty space on the pavement, so Blithe stopped to watch the boy watching the dog watching nothing. Eventually Blithe inquired “What is he looking at?” and the boy shrugged and continued to watch the dog watching nothing. Blithe watched for a little while, and then wandered off. A small child was giggling from inside a doorway, and a mothers voice asked what he was laughing at. The child was looking out of the door at nothing as far as Blithe could see.

                                  As the sun climbed higher, Blithe began to descend into Gibber town, winding and weaving through the alleys, wondering how she had failed to notice this place half way up the Rock until now. She came to a crumbling wall with a doorway in it that looked out over the bay beyond the town below. This must be one of the entrances, she deduced, to this alternate world in Gibber. “Entrance”! Blithe had a revelation. “I never noticed that the word ENtrance and enTRANCE are spelled the same.” Later, back at the office, Frolic Caper-Belle said she thought it was probably a very significant clue. “I’ll file that in the Clue Box, Blithe”, she said.

                                  {link: entrance}

                                  #2807

                                  In reply to: Snowflakes of Tens

                                  ÉricÉric
                                  Keymaster

                                    Everything was white, from the sky to the ground and the limit between them was not even discernible. Despite the lack of visibility, he felt confident that the house was near. His small feet were making crunchy sounds, and at times, between two gushes of wind, he could almost see the fur at the top of his boots.
                                    At a distance, some woolly beast, a yak maybe, was making a muffled sound that resounded in the landscape, and like the beast, he was feeling strong against the elements. On his left were some black shriveled trunks of some small deciduous trees, and it looked like the only life around.
                                    This was far from the truth; even if most of it was frozen in a deep slumber, there still was a lot of life underground.
                                    He had been chasing a few rabbits, and though he had to compete with the lynxes at that game, he had managed to get one. That was why he was feeling so strong and proud. He could feel the still warm little soft creature against his belt, dangling at each of his steps. Soon he will be home…

                                    [link:white]

                                    #2806

                                    In reply to: Snowflakes of Tens

                                    ÉricÉric
                                    Keymaster

                                      The leaves were dry. They’d started to change to a brownish hue at the tip, then rapidly withered. They’d hoped it wouldn’t affect the whole crop, and when the first tea bush went down, they quickly uprooted it, for fear it would spread to the whole hill.
                                      But despite their best efforts, the tea bushes went down, one by one, as though engulfed by a deadly plague. He and she were worried for their next year income, as their tea field was their main source of revenue. The highlands had always been favourable to them, and it seemed such an unlikely and truly unfair event given that the beginning of the year had brought an unexpected bounty of huge tea leaves.
                                      What had happened? He was quite the pragmatic about it: disease, pests, too much sun, over-watering, over-pruning… nothing extending outside the visible, the measurable. She was the mystical: core beliefs, did she worry too much about that sudden wealth and made it disappear, the evil eye, greed and covetousness, celestial punishment.

                                      It never occurred to her she could reverse it as easily once she understood what it was all about.
                                      Well, she almost started to get an inkling of that thinking about warts. How efficiently she got those growths when she was so troubled about them, and how they all disappeared when she forgot about them. How not to think about something that’s already in your head? In that case, distraction never worked; it was a rubber band that would be stretched then snapped back at the initial core issue.
                                      Snap back at yourself.
                                      >STOP< – She stopped. Time to read that telegram delivered to oneself.
                                      Everything still, for a moment. Dashed.
                                      She started to look around.
                                      The air was still, hot and full of expectation.
                                      Almost twinkling in potentials.
                                      Like a providential blank page, in the middle of a heap of administrative papers full of uninteresting chatty figures.
                                      The pages are put aside, only the blank page is here.
                                      She can start to populate it with colours, sounds and life, anytime. Lavender maybe. Soon.
                                      But not yet now.
                                      She wants to breathe in the calmness, the comfort of the silence. Even the crickets seem to be far away.
                                      She was alone, and impoverished…
                                      She is alone, and empowered, … in power.

                                      [link:leaves]

                                      #2800

                                      In reply to: Snowflakes of Tens

                                      ÉricÉric
                                      Keymaster

                                        Wrick rolled his eyes, which made the TV set zap to a cartoon channel which immediately caught the children’s entire attention.
                                        “So much for trying to get them to focus on depth.” he said looking at the daft-looking goat’s head with its tongue sticking out hanged on top of the altar.

                                        “Let’s wheel out of this room and leave it at that.” he mumbled in his breath.
                                        “And hope the cook will cut on the shallowts, it gives me such a bad breath, actually”.

                                        #2691

                                        In reply to: Strings of Nines

                                        Blithe Gambol’s report was a trifle unexpected. She had advised her clients to take a closer look at Share’s Novel Attempt and the interesting new developments there before proceeding with the “case” which had rather cleverly turned into a picnic hamper

                                      Viewing 20 results - 601 through 620 (of 868 total)