Search Results for 'voice'

The three drags had rented a limo to go to Linda Pol’s bar. It was located in the Court Julien and the narrow streets weren’t fit for a limo, but they didn’t care. They had to be noticed and a limo seemed the right choice at the time. Of course, they booked it together because they were young and had not enough money for their own personal limo.
“We should have taken the white one, black is so common and we look like a hearse”, said Consuela, pouting outrageously with her porn red lipstick.
“The rooftop is not high enough for my hair”, whined Maurana.
“No, mum, I’m staying at Robert’s house tonight, we are going to work on calculus for the exam next week”, was saying Terry to her… his phone with his normal voice.

Was it a nightmare? It felt nightmarish, but why? How? What was the nightmare? Was she going mad, finally slipping, down down into the swarming fogs of fear? Making it up? A tormented sick April fool, a late fool, creeping around in the dark? She rubbed her ankles, cold as ice, achilles heels scorched from the lightning. Was she making it up? Lighting, like Victorian gas lamps, the flashing pinpoints on the grey neutral gridweave of perception, falling, falling, into the damp dripping mist. A howling beagle held tightly in the confines of a rigid box, surely she makes it up, but why? It doesn’t make sense, it’s too loose, she howls for the tight rigid box of perception, while the beagle howls to be released. Black drips, drips onto the stack of books, smelling of smoke, inky tar drip drip drip from the chimney pipe, it doesn’t make sense, there was no fire at all that night, where do the black inky drips come from? Is she making it all up, and if so, why? Behind the row of trees a voice calling, calling, the haggard face of a crone appears, offering the black and white puppy from behind the fence. Oh no, a black and white puppy, not black and white, no, she replied, no, no, averting her eyes from its innocent face. Layers of nightmares swirl in the river mist, and nothing makes sense. And it all makes sense, and she screams for the confines of the rigid box as the beagle howls for release.

“Wordblade! I know you’re under there, come out!” Mari Fe hissed, her voice muffled under her disguise. When his face appeared through the folds of velvet, she laughed. “What have you done to the band music? Have you heard them? Somebody’s slaughtered their notes, was it you?”

The Wordblade eased himself out from under the heavy carved platform, glancing up and raising an eyebrow at the statue of Jesus towering above him.

“Very fetching” he said, as he pulled Mari Fe’s red pointy hat off and put it on his own head. “I saw lots of these hats in an 2nd hand shop in, when was it, oh around 2027 I think. Nobody could remember what they were for.”

“Never mind that, can you do something about the slaughter of the musical notes? There hasn’t been any requirement for surge diversion tactics so far during Semana Santa this year, the energy has been very relaxed and disorganized, less regimental and alot less intense. You were supposed to check in with me first”, Mari Fe said, “But then, who wants to do what they’re supposed to these days?”

The pond was full of black tadpoles. The creatures were wriggling restlessly, following invisible currents, connecting dark stains packed with thousands of them. Benjamin Goat immersed a small plastic bottle into one of the biggest node, it sucked the little buggers like a fat syringe.
“Such a small container won’t reduce their population too much”, he thought. Indeed, he had always wondered why there were so many of them in the early stages and why you would see so few frogs or toads. The remaining tadpoles were beginning to gather around his hand. He repressed a shiver. A new idea for a movie just sprang up from his subconscious. Something to do with man-eater tadpoles. That would certainly hit the box office for months.
He smiled. There were enough of them in the bottle.

“Yuck!” said a fat pink lady before licking her strawberry ice cream.

“It’s for my son”, said Benjamin just before realizing he was justifying again. His psychiatrist had told him there was no need for justifying, it was like apologizing, and he needn’t apologize, he was the great Benjamin Goat after all. He snorted and mimicked drinking from his bottle. This time, she was disgusted. She made the mistake to hold her ice cream too far from herself and one of those Gib’s monkey with the pink ass stole it. She was shouting now, people would pay attention to her instead of him. People always pay attention to what’s more annoying.
Paradoxically, he felt a pang of jealousy. He was not used to let go of others’ attention.

His cell phone vibrated, three long vibrations and seven short ones. The code for his secret society. It was a great idea to put it in his last movie, unfortunately it hadn’t had the desired effect. People were so gullible that they would believe everything that came out in a fiction movie.
“The Jesuit is in the place”, said a vocoded voice. That was all. It could only mean one thing. It was all going according to the plan. He smiled and handed out the bottle to a kid. He wouldn’t need that after all.

The phone rang while she was preparing her cabbage with soy sauce. It triggered a memory of a blue helmet. Quickly gone.
She hesitated a moment and stopped what she was doing to pick up the phone.
Her mother began speaking straight away.
“Where have you been all this time ? You’ll turn me mad. You’re so like your father, keeping to himself all those times when he was out playing mahjong with his friends. But I knew where that bastard was…”
Her voice was raspy after years of never being able to be speechless, and most astoundingly, she never repeated herself. The woman was even a sleeptalker. No wonder her husband would rather sneak out of the house to play with his friends.
Aqua Luna had developed an opposite habit, she would find her solace in silence and in doing house cleaning. But this time, the voice of her mother was fascinating. Something in it seemed different.

A blue flash interrupted her fascination. She almost jumped out of her pajamas.
“Listen carefully”, was saying the blue helmet.

Aqua Luna had difficulties understanding what the voice was telling her. The words made perfect sense, separately. They were like bubbles floating around her, she could almost see them. Each had a different hue and some where even shining a bit.
“What am I experiencing ?” she asked.
At least it was her thoughts, but she wasn’t sure the voice would understand as each bubble seemed to follow its separate route once out of her mouth.
When more bubbles appeared in the room, it seemed they were coming from all around her, and not from a specific location. She wondered if she was in some kind of whale ship, in its stomach.
When more bubbles came, she began to feel a bit irritated. She smashed one with her left hand and got startled by the booming “SHAKE”. She retreated on the spongy stomach which was emitting bubbles now. She tried to shoo them away and their explosion was more like a squishy sound.
A bigger bubble was coming toward her. It was with shades of pink and blue, very vibrant. She put her hands on her ears before it blew out, but the sound seemed to come from her skin now.

“HAHAHAHA”

When more bubbles came to her, the words she heard were the following

quickly full days told moscow
dragon sounds face earth itself
pin often middle herself under light
katarina warm asked further turned

It made no sense at all, but she was beginning to find it fun.

The fresh breeze on her face awoke Aqua Luna. She struggled a moment to open her eyes, and realized that it was completely dark around her. The floor she was lying on was soft and spongy, and when she moved to sit the soil emitted a weak suction noise as if full of water. But it was dry, that she could tell after so many years of cleaning. And the smell on her finger was merely that of her familiar detergents.
She was feeling a bit numb and in a neutral mood. She couldn’t remember how she arrived here. She hesitated a moment and asked “Where am I ?” Her voice sounded muffled and distant to her.
“You’re on my ship,” an unknown male voice answered after a few seconds.
“Why is it so dark?”
“I didn’t want to frighten you.”
“Am I a prisoner ?” she asked, checking if she could feel something else past the numbness. “Are you going to torture me ?” she probed with no more success with her feelings.
“To the contrary, earthling, you are a very valuable person to us.”
She thought about her work. Maybe the Long Poonese mafia abducted her to extract some information.
It was so dark that colors and shapes were beginning to appear before her eyes.
“Did you drug me ?”
“It was a necessary precautionary measure for your own good. “

Aqua Luna’s duster was stuck in Cornella’s keyboard. She was still struggling to free it without paying too much attention to the screen. The red symbols blinking on the maps would have confused her, she would not have understood their meaning or the significance of the buttons she inadvertently pushed in her struggle. She has grown in the countryside, at a time where there was no internet available. She barely used her Oopia telepooh her daughter offered her a few years ago. The truth was she didn’t know how to take the call, even after her son in-law, showed her. Richard, that was his name. “He got the face’s name” she thought imagining the rag was a hair in his nose.

“I got it!” she exulted, pushing unknowingly the key combination to lock the session again. She returned the keyboard to its former position just as Cornella arrived.
“Oh! Thank you Aqua, you’re such a sweetie.”
The cleaning lady who didn’t really understood English put on her talk-to-my-hand smile. And left the room. She would clean the other desks later, she needed a break.

Cornella’s voice stormed out.
“What the heck! There has been a breach in the artifact chamber!”
But Aqua Luna wasn’t paying attention, it was like French to her. She was rather wishing she could taking one of those red limo to go back to her place. The Chicks always used them to go everywhere, but Aqua had to take the public transportation system. That wasn’t fair.

She sneaked into the garage, not aware of the camera system or the alarm system. Tony, one of the chauffeurs was there.

Yikesy, who had been quietly observing the assembled gathering, gave a whale-like shout. Fortunately, he had remembered to wear his voice-muter gadget, and for most of those gathered in the room his shout was nearly imperceptible.

Sanso, who had his voice-muter-deactivator turned up full volume, leapt up in alarm. In the process, poor Janet went flying, landing on Sir Ed, who had been starting to stagger unsteadily to his feet. The impact of Janet’s ample frame hitting him full-force caused Sir Ed to lose his footing and, in his descent, he knocked his head on a charming wooden replica of a Tahitian dancing girl. (This was actually the same one which had earlier been mistaken for a hippopotamus.)

“What is the matter, Yikesy?” asked Sanso, managing to keep a clear focus in the midst of the ensuing chaos.

Yikesy smiled smugly. “I knew there was something strange about this map, and I have cleverly worked it out: there are 257 place names and all of them, except 12, have 5 letters and start with the letter E.”

“Of course, I should have spotted that!” exclaimed Sanso. “Well done, Yikesy.”

“Arona, look at that old parchment”, whispered Vincentius with his melodious voice, “I think it can be of help, it looks like a map. I grabbed it when we went out of that portal.”

“Honey, we’re shrunk!” explained Bee. “Remember that jelly baby I gave you half an hour ago? It was a miniaturizing potion. We’re inside the Magpie shaped teapot on the shelf in the kitchen.”

“That would explain the strange shape of this room and the curved chimney alright, but what to we do next?”

“Well, there’s a snag.” said Bee. “The re-enlargement jelly babies are still in the bathroom. We’re going to have to find a way back there.”

Just then the sound of muffled voices became louder and closer. “Anyone fancy a cuppa?” they heard Pearl asking.

And then the earth moved. Bee and Mari Fe were hurtling from one side of the teapot to the other, crashing into each other, trying to find something to hold onto on the slippery walls.

Sanso rubbed his sore head.

“Oh well, just one of the hazards of the job, I suppose.” he said philosophically.

“Okay, coast is clear,” he whispered into the portal.

One by one, Arona, Vincentius and Yikesy piled into the small bathroom.

“Don’t forget me!” hissed Mandrake.

“You know,” Mandrake continued, snootily, “there are some who will say we should not be here. There will be some who will be tsk tsking for all they are worth.”

“Positive energy, please Mandrake.” smiled Arona. Mandrake rolled his eyes.

“It will be fine, just remember: nobody must know who we are or why we are here, and positive intentions at all times.” Sanso was tremendously excited. It was a long time since he had had such an exciting mission.

“Why are we here, again?” asked Vincentius, in his deep melodious voice.

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.”

There wasn’t a cloud in the sky over the mudflats of the Guadalquivir river delta. Bob and Dennis were having a late breakfast of tapas on the terrace of a local bar: battered cuttlefish testicles, ensaladilla Rusa, and reindeer meat montaditos, washed down with fino sherry.

“ We better get back to work, Dennis. I have a feeling we’re very close to finding something.” said Bob.

“Excuse me, did you mention work?” a voice piped up from a table behind them. “I’m looking for work. Just got out of jail yesterday ~ oh don’t panic!” the man in the scarlet sweater said, noticing their raised eyebrows. “I wasn’t in there for any crime, just for being an illegal immigrant. My name’s Barry, by the way, pleased to meet you.”

“Well, Barry, this is your lucky day!” replied Bob. “It just so happens we could do with an extra pair of hands today. Nothing permanent, or legal ~ ha ha ~ but a bit of cash in hand might come handy, eh?”

Barry was well aware of Bob and Dennis’s mission, but he didn’t let on.

“Be happy to, yes! What kind of work is it?”

“We’re looking for a p p p p portal, m m m mate” said Dennis.

In almost no time at all during the afternoon work in the mudflats and marshes, Barry shouted “Bob! Dennis! I think I’ve found it!” He was holding a large stone disc , looking for all the world like a Marie biscuit.

“Feels a bit empty now, doesn’t it? A bit of bloody hoarding wasn’t all that bad after all,” Elizabeth now mused amused, while her newly acquired pet lemur was massaging her cheeks with velvety paws.
swat
All had been oddly strange lately. She’d even felt in the mood for some sweeping,… not to mention managing to remind something to her editor.
swat
That was a first, as memory matters had usually been all shades of grey for her.
swat SWAT!
What next she would create, she wondered.

The drowsy lemur voiced a shriek of panicked anguish when she abruptly left her armchair.
“Oh, you bloody shush now, don’t get all bossy on me just because I forgot where I put my bloody satisfied-or-your-money-back coupon.”
Malicious as it were, the lemur had been for a purpose, and was quite good at it. Fly swatting. She wasn’t getting a refund on the rascal, dead flies were piling around, almost blocking the door, and that was a sight she reveled in.

His voice lowered, she is saying some very strange things Tina, ….. Nothing Becks, I am not whispering …. and can you send some blue diamond healing energy… this conversation is getting stranger and stranger!

Meanwhile back at the ranch – and it was a true ranch with horses and cattle and mountains stretching as far as one could see – Neb was sighing in dismay. He had an odd scrunched look upon his face, and he was curled up in the fetus position.

“How am I supposed to life like this!” Neb demanded.

“All these bloody synchronicities, manifestations and freaking reality shifts are making me feel very uncomfortable.” Neb pouted. Neb tried to imagine his happy place, any happy place would do, but all he could muster was the thought of white buns and spider webs.

“Is not this the point of The Shift?” asked a voice in Nebs head.

“Why bloody not!”

“You don’t know where I’ve just come from, and what I was doing, and what I’ve seen with my very eyes.” Neb moaned.

“So your afraid yet once again, my friend. You fear a lot of things, and have many beliefs about your shelf, elf, I mean self.” said the voice.

“My thoughts manifest in an instant, and usually not in a pleasant way. No not at all, and most uncomfortably obvious too.” said Neb.

“That’s splendid!”

“Sounds to me like your shifting right along, and from what you’ve said, you are allowing your reality to shift quite easily.”

“With ease!?” shouted Neb.

“Its a bloody mess, is what it is. I seem to attract just what I don’t want, and rarely what I do, and this is all to much for me to accept.”

A pink poodle with twenty or so linked sausages in its mouth strolled up to Neb. The poodle grinned, and dropped the sausages in front of Neb, then strutted in a westward direction.

Neb looked at the sausages, and cringed.

“Oh, and she got 222 points in wordplay for ‘youarethefuckwittp’ “ chimed in another, also unidentified voice.
“Is that a word?”
“Apparently so … yes I believe it is in the 2057 Erstwhile Lemoaning first edition dictionoory … phrases which have come into common usage … just because of how often they are used in everyday conversation.”

“My word, I don’t know who that writer is, but her historical accuracy, not to mention her ability to maintain continuity in the face of such … such … such … “ the voice trailed off, at a loss to find words for such brilliance.