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  • #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.

    #3278
    Jib
    Participant

      Terry had always been sort of a follower type of person. The trouble was when her friends were going in two different directions, or like now in one direction and one stay-still. Which one should she follow ? Consuela was a small dot of plancton in the immensity of the ocean, and yet she dared launch herself in the unknown. The others were sticking together, kinda. Sadie was desperately trying to send messages or to receive instructions, it wasn’t very clear, and Maurana was pouting since Consuela was gone.

      That’s not a real profession, Amar, she got startled when she heard her dad’s voice as if he was just behind. She turned with a jerk of her right hip, but no sign of him.

      That was as if she’d been stung by a bee. She’s been waiting all her life, now she wanted to move. Without warning to her friends, she began to follow the trail of bubbles left by Consuela. The others could follow if they wanted, but she wouldn’t left her friend alone in the dark water.

      #3272

      “There is a fine balance between touch ups and shoehorning”
      Jonbert was half-listening to the rant of his tailor and shoemaker, as he was trying on a new outfit and tartan kilt.
      Jonbert’s temper had improved slightly, and he was up to moderate amount of grumpiness as he’d learnt of the arrival of the elder whale, and of the throwing of his guests in the midst of the cetaceans. That explained how he could tolerate much of it.

      “You can’t just shoehorn any pattern under the pretext that you fancy it. It has to be in harmony with the moment, in pure synchronistic bliss.” His tailor, Erldrich Lumoncelli, was often prone to bouts of philosophical ramblings that Jonbert had to suffer to get the perfect tailored suits he wanted.

      “Oh, bugger that nonsense,” he suddenly shouted, unable to suffer more of the airy monologue. “You’ll give me that gold and orange tartan and those yellow dots on my green shoes if I tell you so. Orange will bring out my shiny hair and light complexion I reckon.”

      Color-blind Jonbert wasn’t obviously as savvy for colour matching as he was for time-travelling business, but Erldrich knew better than to infuriate him with aesthetic negotiations.
      “Very well Sir.”
      He finished taking the measurements quickly, folded back the swatches of textile, and bowed out as if his house was on fire.

      Jonbert pulled back his heavy mane of hair into a neat French catogan, truly a unapologetic snobbishness on his part, as it didn’t look very different from a usual ponytail, but somehow sounded more distinguished. Nobody likes to be compared to a pony, do they?
      He walked past the great central hall of the submarine, into the Sightseethroughing Dome Room, and considered for a moment to visit the butterfly nursery, in case the new butterflies were hatched yet. But if butterflies had taught him something is that you couldn’t hurry and cut open a cocoon before the butterfly was ready. There was no such thing as a mythical half-caterpillar half-butterfly creature, every change was a complete change, and it had its own timing.

      But now things were back on course, and the 22nd of February 2222 was still days ahead. Time again was on his side.

      #3256
      Jib
      Participant

        Linda Pol was struggling with the contracts formulation. Things had evolved almost too swiftly in the past —or should she say future, it could be confusing at times—, and now they had to rephrase a few paragraphs. Of course, the herd of lawyers were doing all that, but she had to check after them, she had to be sure they didn’t make a mistake.

        The e-zapper buzzed. First, Linda Pol dismissed it as she would have done with a fly of no importance. But you know how flies of no importance can really bother you when they keep buzzing around when you are trying to focus on something arduous. The fly kept buzzing until Linda Pol couldn’t stand it anymore. She looked at the name on the transparent screen and caught herself whining inwardly.

        It was her mother.

        She breathed deeply twice and prepared herself. All that took a lot less time that it took to write it. She answered with a deep male voice.

        “What do you want mum ?”

        “Your father and I…”
        Linda Pol shrieked silently. It wasn’t good when her mother began her conversation with those words. But she waited patiently.

        “… have been discussing about this book you told us to read. The Sands of the Species I think it was.”

        “Spices”, Linda Pol corrected automatically. And she winced about that. She could see her mother smile triumphantly. She had her son’s attention.

        “Well, that’s what I said.”
        No point arguing with that, Linda thought, _you know that’s what she’s looking for.

        “Anyway”, continued her mother after a pause, “your father and I have been discussing about who the grand-father really is. He thinks that it’s the main character’s mother after her operation and time travel, but I’m sure it’s his second grand son that was also his uncle and his niece.”

        Linda sighed, they already had that conversation before, and he struggled not to use that excuse with her mother, which would certainly start an argument, and he didn’t really had time for that with the new contracts. His mind noticed that it had started to rain. The drops rhythmically punctuating her mother’s sentences at the beginning, and then as the one way conversation went on, one drop per word. She always had a sense of rhythm, it was in her genes. Or that’s what people said anyway. Unfortunately, with his mother, that sense was mostly coupled with irritation and restraint.

        But the brain works in almost magical ways, and the rhythm of the drops associated with his assistant’s bum made him thought of something.

        “Mum”, she said when she could place a word, “I’m sending you a link that explains it all. Sweet dreams, I love you too.” She hanged up quickly. Don’t let her place one more word.

        The drag asked her e-zapper to find the link and send it to her mother. It’ll keep her mother busy for a moment, enough for Linda to finish her reading the contract. She realized that it made a lot more sense now.

        #3242
        TracyTracy
        Participant

          “Well, there’s absolutely no sign of him now” said Lisa, trying to work out what had been happening. “Igor must have been here, because this unusual shell is here, which wasn’t here before. But Igor, it’s as if he vanished into thin air. Jack’s been outside the front and he didn’t see him, Boris has been round the back, and he didn’t see him ~ it seems that you three are the only ones that saw him!”

          ~~

          Igor woke up in his bunk below decks, rubbing his cheek. The slaps to his face had seemed so real that it had woken him up, with the word “Ebanashka!” ringing in his ears. He sighed as he thought of the three girls, and how rudely they always treated him, as if he was a stupid good for nothing. He felt under his blanket for the magic conch shell. It wasn’t there!

          #3233
          F LoveF Love
          Participant

            Introducing Sadie Merrie (Queens Team and 2121 originated time-travellers)

            Sadie enters the story in 2121. She is a new graduate from the Happiness Training Academy.

            What can I tell you about Sadie?

            She used to work as a pet food taster before she entered the Academy. Now she works as a private contractor, currently contracted by Linda Paul to do time travelling missions.

            She has a bob haircut.

            Sadie is not particularly good at her job but she does try hard to put her happiness training into practical use.

            She may have a twin sister, who is yet to be introduced. I will keep you posted.

            Introducing Irina and Mr R the Robot (Management team)

            Irina enters the story in January 2222 in a rendezvous at a B&B with Sanso. The connection with Sanso is not quite clear.

            She is one of the elite class of that time period and leads a pampered life with many benefits. Irina, however, is under the control of the mysterious Management. Her mission when she is introduced in the story is to prevent the time travelling team (Sadie and the drag queens) from successfully completing their mission to retrieve the crystal.

            Irina has a robot called Mr R

            #3232
            F LoveF Love
            Participant

              Queens Team and 2121 originated time-travellers

              Reginald / Maurana Banana
              Cedric / Consuela Winnie
              Amar / Terry Bubble
              Sadie Merrie
              Linda Paul

              Supporting team

              Pseu, Maria del Mar, Janice (from the City, around 2257)
              Sanso (from other dimension, multi-dimensional travel contractor)
              Frindle, Trumble, Jingle (fuck knows who they are)
              the Hawai’i techromancer

              Management team (around 2222 and later)

              Irina, mermaid Russian spy and parrot whisperer

              Jonbert, the orchestrator of the time-travelling arcs, wanting to retrieve key information from St Germain which were collected in 1757. En route back to 2222 to intercept the whales’ crystal with help from Linda Paul’s team, and his luxury submarine

              1757 King’s Versailles

              The Queen
              Madame de Pompadour
              her maid Nicole du Hausset, coming from a line of time-smugglers
              Mr Aliette the wigmaker and finger reader
              Count de St Germain
              Giacomo Casanova (pseudonyms Monsieur de St Galle / Jacques de Seingalt)
              Father Balbi, Casanova’s travelling companion
              Theater du Soleil actors (Lison Tailleur, Jean Pastisse, Geoffroy du Limon, Francette Fine)
              Robert-Francois Damiens, the assassim
              Jean-Pierre Duroy, the Grand Intendant, his wife the Pastry Chef Annie
              Cook and Helper
              ghost of Marguerite Isabeau

              The 1757 originated time-travellers

              Mirabelle the oldest and bossiest, Adeline the youngest (thief of the first ferret) and Fanetta, the French maids
              Igor Popinkin, Boris and Ivan the Russian con-artists and saboteurs hidden with the Russian Ballet troupe visiting Versailles
              Huhu the parrot
              The Whale ghost, the ghost ship (died/sunk around 1600s) and time-travelling fin whales of 2020s
              Belen, the whale
              Santa Rosa, the galleon
              the ghost obese gardener-captain Peter Pugh Petit Pois, from Peasland

              The Spanish farm and fat mermaid dolphins

              Lisa, Jack
              Pierre and Etienne
              The Italian cruise ship
              pink Amazonian dolphins

              #3214

              Huhu dived in an unexpected move and snatched the key while tittering in a manic parrot cackle.
              “So long floaters, and thanks for all the fish.”

              Obviously it wasn’t by mistake that a parrot was lurking in Versailles biding for its time.

              :fleuron:

              Meanwhile, a cucumber free Irina was trying to get the hang of the commands of the new p-box that could allow for entering the minds of animals.

              On the empty box lying at her feet, one could read the usual side effects caveats, especially for the birds section: Birds are very tempting, but a p-boxer may soon lose contact to the mundane things of earth, and want only to fly.

              #3212
              TracyTracy
              Participant

                Despite the exotic tropical scenery and the balmy air, Cedric was preoccupied with thoughts of the handsome Russian that had failed to appear for their rendezvous in the chapel yard. Try as he might, he couldn’t stop thinking about him, and his attractive accent. He puzzled endlessly at the way the fellow had mysteriously called him Marguerite Isabeau. What was the connection?

                #3210
                TracyTracy
                Participant

                  – 346:
                  RICHARD: I guess I have a question about incarnations or parallel realities. Do humans experience focuses as other species, and specifically dolphins? ‘Cause I had an experience with a powerful hallucinogen at one time, that I was actually remembering of a time when we were all — or I and other people that I was with — dolphins. I mean, it sounds crazy!

                  But then as I’ve been reading about it, I heard about this tribe in South America, where you mentioned I had a previous focus. It’s an area where there are these pink dolphins that actually are said to be able to shift their body structure. It sounds crazy, but I’ll just throw it out there anyway! They change their appearance and come out of the water basically, and then go back. The tribe that lives there protects these dolphins. If anybody goes anywhere near them trying to harm them, they will kill them, and it’s out of love, not anger.

                  I’m just very intrigued by this particular species of dolphins. I’m just wondering, ‘cause I really had a close … I mean, I had an experience where I thought I was breathing … I mean, I was under the water in a hot tub for five minutes! So it was just because of my belief system, maybe, that I was not needing to breathe air anymore? (Pause) I guess that’s a question! (Laughing)

                  ELIAS: Very well. This … you may not be discounting yourself in this in your questioning, and not holding fearfulness with myself that I shall view this as an inconsequential question, for in actuality, this is an interesting question.

                  Early within the onset of these sessions, I offered information to this particular species, and that species which you term to be whales in this physical dimension. I have expressed that creatures within this dimension do not hold essence, but are created by you, which IS essence, although they are consciousness. But I have also expressed previously that these two particular species of creature within this dimension have moved into an area of assuming essence.

                  Now; at the time framework that I was discussing this physically with individuals previously, this action had not yet occurred, but was very close, as I was expressing. Within this present now, this is accomplished, that these particular creatures are also an expression of essence, and choosing to be manifest within this dimension NOT in the physical form of your species.

                  Now; as to the addressment of these particular creatures in this area of South America and your myths surrounding these creatures, these are not myths, they are not stories, and they are not what you term to be imagination.

                  In the experimentation of manipulating consciousness to be creating of essence, these particular creatures engage the action altering form, allowing the connection of the physical manifestation of essence within this dimension to be holding an accurate understanding and empathic sense of your species and to be creating of a connection physically, a knowing, but also recognizing that the choice is not to be manifest as essence in the form of your species, but to be manifest in this other species.

                  Now; within this present now, all of the species of this particular creature — dolphins, and also your whales — are manifestations of essence, unlike all of your other creations of creatures within this dimension.

                  This opens the window for much misunderstanding. Therefore, I shall clarify, for this is not to say that your creatures are lesser than you. They are different, for they are a creation of you. They are not essence. They are your creations, but they also are, in a manner of speaking, a part of you, just as your finger is not your entire body, but it is an element of you. Your dogs or your elephants are an extension of you. They are a creation of yours. Your dolphins and your whales are not. They are their own expression. They are their own essences.

                  RICHARD: And now, they’re creating their own realities.

                  ELIAS: Correct.

                  RICHARD: So then that has come about recently and will be a notable, dramatic change.

                  ELIAS: Correct.

                  In this, you have allowed yourself a similar experience in allowing yourself to empathically experience these other manifestations of essence, allowing yourself the experience of the dolphin in like manner to those particular dolphins which have offered themselves the experience of your species.

                  RICHARD: But when they did that, that experience, that was before they were essence. Wouldn’t that be a creation of our consciousness at that time, that caused them to take on a human form?

                  ELIAS: No! This has been their choice as consciousness, moving in the direction of creating essence for themselves within consciousness.

                  In that, they have created their experimentation with form within this dimension. This was an element of their choice, to experiment in their exploration of whether they shall participate within this dimension in similar form to you, or continue to manifest within the form they have chosen but incorporating essence. Therefore, there has been a time framework of experimentation of shifting shape.

                  Now; within this present now, this continues, but not for the same reason. This continues occasionally as a playful act, for they hold the knowing — unlike yourselves — objectively that they hold the ability to shift shape.

                  You also hold the ability to be creating this, but you do not offer yourselves the objective knowing of this. Therefore, you do not manifest this.

                  RICHARD: How? How do we do it?

                  ELIAS: Ha ha! (Grinning, and laughter)

                  #3209
                  F LoveF Love
                  Participant

                    Sadie had been giving Linda Paul’s strange suggestion some thought. Was Linda Paul drinking again? she wondered. She had heard the rumours at the Happiness Academy about how he used to frequent the bars, tittering to himself, and apparently trying to telepathically freak out other bar patrons.

                    #3207

                    “Alohaaaaa” the frogs sang as they arrived on the place of refuge, Pu’uhonua O Honaunau.

                    Their wigs were a bit misplaced, but the queens were fine.
                    It didn’t take seconds before the ezapper buzzed.

                    “Here’s the plan ladies” Sadie read while trying not to roll her eyes. “Time off on this delightful place to get a rest, then we’ll be invited for a tour in a submarine. The owner is a bit reclusive, so we’ll mostly have that luxury water balloon all for ourselves.
                    Then we’ll see who stays a Queen in a diving suit. Just for now, enjoy the beach. With Love, Linda Paul.”

                    #3203
                    TracyTracy
                    Participant

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

                      #3201

                      Jonbert had developed an interesting theory while doing his morning ablutions about time travel and catching butterflies. He had a gorgeous butterfly nursery inside the submarine, and got the strange idea that trying to fiddle with time was like catching a prized butterfly among lots of others looking alike.

                      His thoughts were interrupted when the horn signaled they had arrived in 2222 in one of the blind spots of the ocean’s depths close to the particular spot where… some interesting butterflies would be attracted.

                      The submarine was mostly entirely roboted. There was little for him to take care of, so instead of pacing around in his tartan kilts, he sat back in a comfortable 1980s garish sofa from his antique collections, and revisited his memories in his memory palace.

                      He had taken him great patience and cunningness to hatch the plan. Through many of his Time Tourist outlets and a few shell corporations, the last of one which was named Vague, he had manipulated events to design and hire the Drag Queen time contest. Drag queens wasn’t the original plan, more of an unexpected deviation, not that it really mattered. All he needed was just one mission. Then, he only had to make sure the contestant would be diverted to a carefully selected time zone, and given a key to smuggle.
                      The key wasn’t really important, what it collected along the way was.

                      For him to be able to breach the Time wall of 3333, he needed vast amounts of gold, and to his knowledge, it could only be accomplished through true transmutation.
                      Artificial gold, like artificial crystal wasn’t created as good as it gets in nature, and for some reason wouldn’t remain stable enough as the machines were propelled too far in time. Of course the irony of that was a conundrum in itself and wasn’t lost to him: after all, wasn’t transmutated gold just artificial too? After what centuries had managed to push as boundaries and envelopes, he wasn’t sure any longer what was artificial or natural. And it was his last ditch effort at living everlastingly.
                      He didn’t care if he could just chose another of these holobodies to project his thoughts into, he was old school, and stubborn to a fault. He had to see it through, even if, and especially if so many before him had failed.

                      The key was designed to capture a complete hologram of the person who seemed to have accomplished the transmutation recipe he desired: St Germain.

                      #3199

                      The tunnel-sliding in the jelly cart was actually much smoother than the zebra ride prior. “Bless those frogs, aren’t their croaking some delightful melody of the spheres to our ears?” Sanso in his wetsuit was oblivious to the slime around, grinning as widely as a puppy with an old boot to tear to pieces.

                      Bless that jelly cart… Sadie was thinking instead, beeswax in her ears, thankful for the heart of silence and peace inside. Save for the chitchat of the others, she could temporarily forget about the ezapper (slide safety measures prohibiting the use of ecletical devices during such travels), and retreat in the sweet serenity of her inner peace.

                      That was,… until the image of Linda Paul abruptly came into her inner eye, almost having her buggering it off with wild manic gestures and in a string of loud swearwords — an emotion which she immediately managed to turn into nothingness, but sadly not the image.
                      It was a memory of what she’d told her before they left.

                      It’s high fucking time, honey pie… she’d told her. High fucking time you find yourself a fucking amazing Drag Queen name, sweetie bee. Look, she’d said, drawing closer with an air of grand voodoo priestress, this ain’t no fucking small talk, this is important.
                      I can come up with ten thousands of names in a minute for you, but you got to choose for yourself.
                      Sadie had almost rolled her eyes, but just mentioned as lovingly as she could. “Am I not a bit too… female for that?” To which Linda had burst into laughter hysterically, then continued with even more compunction. “Ain’t nothing to do with gender, sweetie, I thought you knew that much.”
                      “Besides, offering yourself your Drag Queen name is an act of love and empowerment. You should try it when you’re ready. And then, you’ll accomplish miracles.”

                      Not that Linda Paul was known for euphemisms or understatements, but Sadie found she might give it some thought.
                      If only to get rid of that annoying affected voice in her face.

                      #3191
                      Jib
                      Participant

                        The next morning, Linda Paul consulted her mailbox. Seventy three messages. She had a nervous laugh. ‘Incredible’, she thought as she sifted through the mails. More and more incompetence, that was all there was in the mails. The maintenance team had been unable to unclog the time sewers. They were writing mails after mails to show that they were working. Linda Paul felt an urge to answer back ‘Stop writing mail and work!’ But instead she remembered the Love and Shine training she went with Sadie last month. “Breath in, deeply, blink three times slowly, and exhale”, she said inwardly. Already she felt better.

                        They didn’t have much time, which was a bit of a paradox considering that they had a time sewer at their disposal, but the more it stayed clogged, the more difficult it would be to find the precise way out.

                        She put on her blue and silver work suit. It really fitted her. Doubled with artificial mouse fur, very warm and good for qi circulation. She had silvery stripes added to make it more queen-like. She chose her platform boots carefully, she didn’t want to get too muddy nor stay stuck in the time muck.

                        The time sewer central hub was not at the bar. This was merely one of the numerous available entry points. It was hidden in the calanques near Aubagne. She had to drive her Subaru SUV to go there. Which was not an easy task with platform boots. When she arrived on site, she realized the work team was not there. She squinted her eyes. That was suspicious. Who was sending the mails if nobody was doing anything ?

                        She went to the hub and almost puked before she could get close enough to see what was inside. The smell was terrible, all the scum of the ages seemed to have disgorged here. She found a gas mask, which fit perfectly once she had gotten rid of her Darco Barbane meringue wig. She saw her face in the side mirror of a truck. She looked a bit like Bobba Fet. She pushed away the irritation to have to go to such length with her pride to have the work done.

                        It was much better with the mask, she realized. So it was a small price to pay to the drag-style. When she arrived to the hub, it looked worse than she had imagined. The edge of the sewer hub was covered in white moss, which seemed to be pulsating slowly. She thanked her Love and Shine training once again, it helped her keep her smile on as she went on. What she saw next alarmed her. A few people were lying there, unconscious. Yet, some of them were wearing masks. Not a good idea to go further.

                        She’d always been proud of her quick wit. It had helped her a lot when guys were mocking her wigs at school. Now she needed it for another kind of life threatening situation. She looked around, trucks, barracks, more people on the floor, a ginger cat licking its balls… she laughed nervously. Strange that the cat didn’t seem affected. She noted that somewhere in her mind, she might need it later. Then she saw exactly what she needed. The dildo truck. She never remembered the real name, but it sure looked like a giant dildo in the front of a truck. She didn’t know what was its real use of course, but years of gauging the size of men’s attributes allowed her to see that it fitted perfectly the sewer hub.

                        “Hard on, ladies”, she thought as she climbed in the front seat, saying a silent prayer to all the Queens of all ages. She started the truck and began to move. She had the weirdest impression to understand what it mean to think with your dick. She stopped the truck, facing the sewer hole with her dildo. She noticed a small red button on the dashboard, it had a tag on it which read “lubricant”. She pushed it several times and nothing happened. Go to hell, she thought.
                        Then the queen revved up the truck. “Love and Shine, biiiitches”, she said as a mantra, and let it all go.

                        The mind has a tendency to forget unpleasant things. All she could remember was that she had to get in and out several times. And that nasty suction noise. But in the end, she could clean wash the white moss with the water jet incorporated in the truck. She turned the sewer back on and threw the gas mask in the hole to check it. As good as new, and the smell was gone too. Her incredible memory allowed her to register that the cat as well was gone.

                        #3190
                        Jib
                        Participant

                          Linda Paul, undressed and without make-up, was reading a book in his favourite rainbow couch. The book could be any of the ones in the bookshelves, actually he had picked it up randomly. His mind was musing about the last events and the last message he received on his e-zapper.

                          That someone was working against him and his teams was clear. It had always been like that since he first tried his mama shoes, dresses and make-up. He remembered the preparation of his first lip-sync when he was nine, for an x-mas eve. Grand ma ‘Paul almost had a fit; that’s when he realized how powerful his influence over people was. So a case of show cancelation and clogged sewer was by no mean worrying.

                          But the message was another piece of muffin. Linda Paul took his zapper on the crystal coffee table and checked the last entry. “Make preparation for next mission. Transfer elephant and soprano to sixth quadrant 4×2. Don’t forget the frogs, we’ll need them. Send queens asap.”

                          In his experience, asap usually meant tomorrow. The poor girls wouldn’t have the time to rest and recover from the sewer, which was still clogged by the way, and the frogs were useful with their slimy skin to go past it more easily. Which meant we wouldn’t have the time or the resources to unclog the sewer until the next mission. They’ll have to move in the time drag school as soon as possible.

                          Linda texted his professional shopper team, they’ll need new dresses, fake nails, make-up, and wigs tonight. She’ll organize a little soiree to introduce the team formally to the time (fish)network.

                          And with a blurry zoom effect, she looked at the bottle of blue glowing pills on the coffee table. She’ll need them sooner than she expected.

                          #3183

                          “Can’t you use one of these neat rockets of designer? We’re in 2222 for fuck’s sake!”, asked a lean green-faced lady, with her cheeks decorated with cucumber slices, who was lying next to Sanso in the pneumatic rotating bed of the R&R B&B.
                          “Can’t discuss business with you honey, sorry” he snapped, while looking for his pants and gilded codpiece in the mess of the room.

                          “And I thought of us as partners in crime…” she shrugged. Nonplussed, and quite naked apart from the cucumber covered parts, she lit a swigarette and switched the holographic display on.

                          “…when launching a rocket to orbit, a “dogleg” is a guided, powered turn during ascent phase that causes a rocket’s flight path to deviate from a “straight” path. A dogleg is necessary if the desired launch azimuth, to reach a desired orbital inclination, would take the ground track over land (or over a populated area, e.g. Russia usually does launch over land, but over unpopulated areas), or if the rocket is trying to reach an orbital plane that does not reach the latitude of the launch site. Doglegs are undesirable due to extra onboard fuel required, causing heavier load, and a reduction of vehicle performance.”

                          Sanso turned his head towards the display and raised an eyebrow. “Hell if I understood what it means, but that certainly explains a few things”.

                          #3174
                          TracyTracy
                          Participant

                            “Frindle, is Geoffroy alright?” asked Trumble. “He seems to be muttering that peculiar gibberish again, is he having another one of his turns?”
                            “It’s his control issues again, Trumble, he’ll get over it. I think he’s already seeing the green light. He’s having trouble seeing each moment as discrete, with it’s own back story, each story entry as a picnic basket, complete with it’s own history and associations. Each picnic basket is a piece of the puzzle, but they may not fit immediately together, and I think that’s what troubles him.”
                            “As usual, you’ve hit the nail on the head, Frindle. Funny how it all seems like deja vu, doesn’t it?”
                            “Trusting that the invisible connecting links are seamlessly interwoven even if they are not apparent is not for the faint hearted” added Jingle, “It would behoove us to remember that we all struggle at times to fit the pieces together. Which is why this is all such a beneficial exercise.”
                            “True enough, Jingle” replied Trumble. “Many’s the time I’ve had a mad scramble to find a connecting link and make it fit.”
                            “And many’s the time you’ve fucked up but by not paying attention, Trumble” Frindle pointed out.
                            “Ah, but that’s because I’ve been paying attention to another aspect instead, you rude tart” retorted Trumble.

                            #3168
                            TracyTracy
                            Participant

                              Cook swore loudly for the umpteenth time that morning, throwing her wooden spoon across the room. “I just can’t get the consistency right! These tarts are a disaster!”
                              “Now, now, Cook” said one of the kitchen helpers, kindly patting her back. “You’re trying too hard to make sure the tarts are perfect. You know you create your best concoctions when you’re feeling playful and confident. Perhaps you should take a small break, and pop over to the chapel and pray to Mother Mary for lightness and ease.”
                              “I do believe you’re right” replied cook, smiling gratefully at Helper and wiping her floury hands on her apron.

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