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  • #5978

    In reply to: Story Bored

    TracyTracy
    Participant

      Board 4, Story 2

      “I told those teleporters not to trust the TPS, now look where they’ve landed Belen!” Pseu was not happy with the Inner landscape design team, either.

      Adeline: : “Ees zat racquet of yours plastic? Can I ‘ave eet for my collage?”

      Gayesh, please! This is our bedroom, not the clone surgery.” Becky was appalled.

      #5968
      ÉricÉric
      Keymaster

        Chanced upon a storyboard website.

        Challenge yourself at random connections and wild creative flexing.

        #5928

        Hello Whale,

        I don’t keep track of the days since we have been forcefully encouraged to stay home. I have plenty of carrots and chocolate mousse. Talking of mousse, I might have a mouse keeping me company. Let’s not hope it’s a family. But I heard that animals are coming back into town now that we are all cozy in our burrows. There have been mentions of chicks on the ring road. Not the kind of chick with makeup, the real fluffy and yellow ones. And one of my friends saw a fox roaming the streets while going to the supermarket. I bet he had a bag full of carrots. Now I wouldn’t be surprised having rabbits everywhere with all those carrots around.

        I may sound confusing but I guess that’s what being confined does to people. I even had day dreams of birds flying in my bedroom. I swear I really saw one. Well, to be fair I only saw its shadow, but it was a shadow in the air, not on the wall. I wonder what kind of bird it was. My little pinky said it was a finch, the one my mother loved looking at in her garden. She will be part of the numbers soon. Either with her death or with her survival. Now when I think of her I see her surrounded by a bunch of animals. I even saw the fox, but I don’t think it would count amongst the animals I see in town.

        Since I’m not trying to be analytic, I’ve found a strange poetry in life around here. People are talking like senators, all trying to give their certainties to the world, but I can tell you nobody knows shit and nobody has a clue. You might as well welcome the virus for some tea to get to know each other and have some interesting stories about yourself and your relation to nature.

        I’m raving again. Someone told me a joke recently. The national board of psychologists published a official communiqué because they received too many calls from people. They said it was normal in this time of confinement to talk to the walls or the objects in your house, and to call them only in case the objects talked back.

        What would they think if they knew I’m talking to a whale and it’s giving me advice for my writing? I can even hear them as it sends me short audio. I haven’t been able to figure out what they said in the audio though. I’m glad the advice for my writing do come directly translated and not in the form of a whale song. I’m grateful for technology in that case.

        Oh and one last mention. A friend told me about the current roller coaster of the stock market. I dreamt of a stocking market. I must say it was very colourful and the seller used their stockings in very creative ways.

        Keep the connection going! Talk to you soon Whale. I’ll have to find you a name. My pinky suggested Jorid so it will be my name for you.

        #5830

        In reply to: Tart Wreck Repackage

        “Well, that was certainly enlightening.” Star said, once they got out of the bushes where they’d fell.

        Tara looked at the bushes and mused “Must be what they mean when they say it all went pear-shaped from now on…”

        “Nonsense, Tara. At least we now know there’s a good chance the real Vince was planning to spread some pathogen into the cult, got caught and sent into a coma for it.”

        “Shouldn’t we leave Rosamund with those silly conspiracy theories? After all, we were hired to find Basil, not to save the world.”

        “Thank the Mother for that, we’re not equipped, and it can’t afford our saving.”

        “Speak for yourself!” hissed Tara. “So, Basil? Any idea where he might be now?”

        “My guess he’s held prisoner at the cult. We should give it a second look.”

        “Might be tougher now it’s in lockdown.”

        Star grinned widely. “I always knew I’d find good use for those nice fancy party nurse dresses.”

        #5670

        “Crocuses in meadow, Flower, Flower”, was singing Eleri. Humming was more accurate, she didn’t recall much of the lyrics, but the tune was easy to follow. She was quite fond of that popular song and liked to sing it whenever she was going to town in her flower dress floating in the wind. She had thought it nice if Gorrash woke up with a festive atmosphere. It would certainly be a shock already that so much time had passed since he was last awake. She wondered if he would remember anything from his broken time. She hadn’t talked much with him before, especially about his day-slumber time.

        “Chestnut in the woods”, she continued. Crack, crack made the dry twigs she walked on on purpose. It made her laugh and snort. She liked playing with her environment and made it participate in her own expression, it was like she had many voices and she could hear herself everywhere. She picked up a few chestnuts because she knew Fox was crazy about them. It was a blessing that the enchanted forest would still produce them out of season.

        When she arrived in town, Eleri didn’t waste time. She wanted costumes and props for the party, so she went directly to the Jiborium’s Emporium where she was sure to find everything she needed, and more. There was a crowd blocking the entrance, but it didn’t deter her from her idea. She elbowed her way up to the door where a man in a wheelchair was complaining about having not enough room to go in. Still in a jolly mood, Eleri found it funny that the man who took so much space with his cumbersome vehicle was asking for more room.

        “Move already”, she joined her voice to the man’s complaint and managed, Flove knows how to make the crowd part away enough so they could both enter the shop.

        “Thanks, young lady”, said the grumpy man. “It’s a hassle sometimes you know to move in this town. People with good health they do not realise.”

        “Oh! I know”, said Eleri. “My ankle just got better, but it was such a pain to move. I would have loved to have a chair like yours to move around, but alas I live in the forest most of the time and I’m not sure the chair would last long in there.”

        “Oh! but it would! They have the cross-country model here, on the fourth floor. Powered by lightning battery.”

        “Really?” said Eleri more to herself than for the man. Her mind was already elsewhere. “Thanks!” She kissed the grumpy man on the forehead and left, thinking of costumes and confetti. A cross-country wheelchair would be nice to bring back all of those. They might even need it for Gorrash if he needed recovery time.

        #5604
        ÉricÉric
        Keymaster

          “That trip of yours was surprisingly, or must I say, suspiciously long…” Lucinda gave them both a long glance full of innuendos, and added in case those were missed “where you on a honeymoon or something?”

          Shawn-Paul blushed to a shade of violent violet cramoisi, while Maeve just snatched her dog’s leash that Lucinda was handing her back rather nonchalantly.

          “Oh, you, will you just wipe the snark from your face, it’s making you look ten years older Luce. It wasn’t really a holiday if you must know everything.” She elbowed Shawn-Paul, who was looking vacantly at the tip of his shoes. “Why don’t you tell her?”

          “Why don’t you tell her?” he replied automatically.

          “It’s just been 6 months! Why do you make such a fuss about it?”

          “I’m not making a fuss, look who’s cranky! I can see you are venting your spleen on me after a sleepless night in the plane…”

          “Haha, yes”, Maeve admitted with a nervous chuckle. “The only thing that matters is we managed to collect the dolls and the keys, just don’t ask me how.”

          “You know I’ll ask.”

          “Yes, I know. Just… don’t.”

          “Fair enough. But it might be tough for me not to ask. I may forget… Besides, I must ask, do you have a secret benefactor that’s funding you all this time? Fabio’s kibble didn’t come free you know, you left me with barely enough for a week!”

          “Oh really? Dog’s kibble now? Let me make you a check right now.”

          “I think you need a good night of sleep.” Lucinda winked at Shawn-Paul, “him too. And we’ll talk later. I have tons of things to update you about my theater writing group. You might help me with the continuity bits… Waaa, calm down, no pressure!”

          #5574

          June was impatiently waiting for the Oober, and asking April every second where the driver was.

          “You should get the app if you’re so damn impatient!” finally snapped April who had watched a video on how to stop being a crowd pleaser and start asserting herself. Might as well be with June, as she was the kind of bossy britches who would let the light shine anywhere else than on herself.

          June looked at her and raised an eyebrow. “Good, you’re learning from our dear Pdt Lump, be yourself. Have you tweeted it already?”

          “Why do you always have to make everything a political statement?”

          “Because everything is, dear! Don’t get me started on that… Look, I think that’s our driver! Whoohooo!” She waved at him in an outrageous fashion.

          “Stop that! Or we’ll have to find another ride, or worse, get assaulted!” The driver did actually look a little bit started by the two in their matching red tracksuits. They had a street dance planned with the Chinese maids from the Chinese Embassy where the party was planned during the time it was empty, due to Chinese New Year.

          “Anyway, I hope the kid is going to be fine.” April sighed a little concerned.

          “Oh don’t worry about that, what could happen, really? Let’s enjoy our Friday night out, shall we.”

          #4862

          “Init been quiet as being caught in the doldruffs, my Mavis?” Sha was sandwiched in the cryogenic apparatus like a tartine in a toaster, with her ample person protruding like cheese squeezed in too much.

          The door flung open.

          “Good Lord, aren’t them splendigious, those little tarts, meringue and all.”

          Berenice, Barb’s niece, trotting in his steps, taking her role as the new temp assistant very seriously was about to voice a response that he quickly tutted away. “I wasn’t talking to you.”

          “Took me a while to find out the thread though, buried through all that poubelle creative thinking and monologues, and bla and bla. Action all gone missing safe for a little excitement in Tik…” He stopped, looking around suspiciously. “They’re here, I know. Stop it, now. Hey. Shut up!”

          He turned to Berenice. “I wasn’t talking to you. Who are you by the way? Has Liz or Lucinda written you in?”

          Sha, and Glo, and Mavis, all squeezed in the cryotanks were not wasting a drop of the show.

          “He’s been acting all strange, since he cracked that red crystal.”
          “Shht, Glo. You don’t want him to get mad and stop all our beauty treatment. I can feel my skin tighten and dewrinkle.”
          “T’is like ironing, fussure. Some steam and a good hot iron to remove the wrinkles.”
          “Ahahah, wrinkles yourself, they’re more like crevices, hihihi!”
          “But first, nuffin like a ice treatment to tighten the glutes.”
          “Oh uhuh, haha, she said glutes like a snotty beauty specialist. Next she’ll say we need to do Pontius Pilates…”

          Berenice couldn’t help herself. She blurted out in one quick sentence “But what are you planning to do with them, Doctor?”

          He paused a moment his conversation with the invisible guests then turned nonchalently at B.

          “But just… perfecting them, sweet thing. Oh, and love what you did with the beehive.”

          #4827
          F LoveF Love
          Participant

            “Ah! There you are, my dear,” said Alessandro. “I have searched all over the house for you and now I find you in the laundry.” He shook his head and waggled a finger at Liz. “Where is that naughty maid of yours who should be doing this?.”

            Liz leapt away from the laundry basket. “I was looking for something other than this … this obscenity,” she said flinging the pink satin garment to the ground. “And, who exactly are you?”

            “I am Alessandro! Fashion Designer extraordinaire. I am rather surprised you do not know of me,” he said, pouting. “Your maid employed me to assist you with your fashion choices.”

            “Cheek!” spluttered Liz.

            Finnley limped into the room. “Oh you are here. Good,” she said flatly. “Sort her out, will you, Alessandro. She has done nothing but moan lately.”

            Finnley, what is wrong with your leg?” asked Liz. “Don’t bother answering. You are merely trying to garner sympathy.”

            “Sure,” said Finnley. She bent down to pick up the pink satin with a loud groan. “I might cut this up for doll’s clothes,” she said mysteriously.

            #4825
            TracyTracy
            Participant

              “I’m so glad you’ve forgotten all that silliness about writing a book, Finnley dear. Now run along and put the kettle on, and why don’t you have one yourself,” Liz added in a surge of indulgent affection. “Come and put your feet up, you’ve been too hard at it, taking too much on. You can have the rest of the day off and sit with me, we can have a nice cosy little natter.”

              Godfrey smirked in the shadows as Finnley blanched. Roberto was peering in the French windows imagining Liz in pink satin with pom poms.

              “Please, don’t any of you dress me in pink satin again,” Liz announced to whoever was listening.

              But nobody was. They were all in the lavatory inspecting the woodwork. Or so they said.

              #4816
              ÉricÉric
              Keymaster

                “Josette, you got to do something about that crippling continuity anxiety of yours.
                Since when do storytellers have to explain themselves. Be creative, and let the creative flow wash away all doubts.
                “You can’t be dry already after the exhausting eight words of foreshadowing suspense you just wrought, or shall we rename this a Course in Floundering Beginnings? So, take a deep breath and try again: “once upon a time…” what already?”

                #4795
                TracyTracy
                Participant

                  The woman turned round to glare at the man with the demented grin sitting behind her. “I think this is yours,” she said, plucking a cashew from her hair and handing it to him through the gap between the seats. “I hope,” she added pointedly, “That the remainder of the flight will be less of a challenge for you.”

                  #4791

                  Once he’d finished to tell the story, and let the kids go back to the cottage for the night, Rukshan’s likeness started to vanish from the place, and his consciousness slowly returned to the place where his actual body was before projecting.

                  Being closer to the Sacred Forest enhanced his capacities, and where before he could just do sneak peeks through minutes of remote viewing, he could now somehow project a full body illusion to his friends. He’d been surprised that Fox didn’t seem to notice at all that he wasn’t truly there. His senses were probably too distracted by the smells of food and chickens.

                  He’d wanted to check on his friends, and make sure they were alright, but it seemed his path ahead was his own. He realized that the finishing of the loo was not his own path, and there was no point for him to wait for the return of the carpenter. That work was in more capable hands with Glynis and her magic.

                  His stomach made an indiscreet rumbling noise. It was not like him to be worried about food, but he’d gone for hours without much to eat. He looked at his sheepskin, and the milk in it had finally curdled. He took a sip of the whey, and found it refreshing. There wouldn’t be goats to milk in this part of the Forest, as they favored the sharp cliffs of the opposite site. This and a collection of dried roots would have to do until… the other side.

                  To find the entrance wasn’t too difficult, once you understood the directions offered by the old map he’d recovered.

                  He was on the inner side of the ringed protective enclosures, so now, all he needed was to get into the inner sanctum of the Heartwood Forest, who would surely resist and block his path in different ways.

                  “The Forest is a mandala of your true nature…”

                  He turned around. Surprised to see Kumihimo there.

                  “Don’t look surprised Fae, you’re not the only one who knows these parlor tricks.” She giggled like a young girl.

                  “of my nature?” Rukshan asked.

                  “Oh well, of yours, and anybody’s for that matter. It’s all One you, see. The way you see it, it represents yourself. But it would be true for anybody, there aren’t any differences really, only in the one who sees.”

                  She reappeared behind his back, making him turn around. “So tell me,” she said “what do you see here?”

                  “It’s where the oldest and strongest trees have hardened, it’s like a fence, and a… a memory?”

                  “Interesting.” She said “What you say is true, it’s memory, but it’s not dead like you seem to imply. It’s hardened, but very much alive. Like stone is alive. The Giants understood that. And what are you looking for?”

                  “An entrance, I guess. A weak spot, a crack, a wedge?”

                  “And why would you need that? What if the heart was the staircase itself? What if in was out and down was up?”

                  Rukshan had barely time to mouth “thank you” while the likeness of the Braid Seer floated away. She’d helped him figure out the entrance. He touched one of the ring of the hard charred trees. They were pressed together, all clomped in a dense and large enclosure virtually impossible to penetrate. His other memories told him the way was inside, but his old memories were misleading.
                  Branches were extending from the trunks, some high and inaccessible, hiding the vision of the starry sky, some low, nearly indistinguishable from old gnarled roots. If you looked closely, you could see the branches whirring around like… Archimedes Screw. A staircase?

                  He jumped on a branch at his level, which barely registered his weight. The branch was dense and very slick, polished by the weathering of the elements, with the feel of an old leather. He almost lost his balance and scrapped his hands between the thumb and the index.

                  “Down is up?”

                  He spun around the branch, his legs wrapped around the branch. He expected his backpack to drag him towards the floor, but strangely, even if from his upside-down perspective, it was floating above him, it was as if it was weightless.

                  He decided to take a chance. Slowly, he hoisted himself towards his floating bag, and instead of falling, it was as though the branch was his ground. Now instead of a spiral staircase around the trees leading to heavens, it was the other side of the staircase that spiraled downwards to the starry night.

                  With his sheepskin and back still hovering, he started to climb down the branches towards the Giants’ land.

                  #4778
                  ÉricÉric
                  Keymaster

                    “Oh, that can’t be THAT hard, give it to me Godfrey!”
                    “Wait Liz’, you could harm yourself!”
                    “Oh come on, hand over the darn thing, I’ve seen her do it a thous… well at least once or twice. And the second time, I was so drunk I thought it was the parrot who’d done it.”
                    “Alright, but remember you were the one to ask for it!”

                    She glared at him sideways. “What is this thing Godfey?”
                    “Well, it’s called a broomstick, I thought you wanted to do some cleaning. For sure the place is in dire need of it.”
                    “I know what a broomstick is, thank you very much. Is this your idea of a practical joke, G?”
                    “Oh no Liz’, I could just have called your Mother for that, she would have loved to come and teach you.”
                    Godfrey, you better stop all this nonsense now, or I’ll have you put in a story oubliette, with only water and half a peanut a day for sustenance.”
                    “That’s torture! But, wait, if you didn’t want the broomstick, what was it, that you said you needed Finnley for?”
                    “Oh don’t you make me say it Godfrey! Just give me the red marker, and let’s get over with all the editing. That manuscript is really worth poubelle.”

                    #4776

                    When Albie woke up, it was shaking all around, as if the ground was quaking under him. It took him a moment to realize he was at the back of the jeep, and the jeep was careening on the dirt road, with none other than Mandrake at the wheel.

                    “Don’t stare at him like this, kid, and make yourself useful!” Arona shouted in the action, taking a Jiborium Emporium pellet gun while pushing a bag of ammo at him.

                    WHAT?!”

                    “I’m not sure you realized, but we’re being chased!”

                    The sound of a bullet flew by, missing the car window only thanks to an agile quarter turn of the wheel by Mandrake, followed by a sudden acceleration back onto the road.

                    “Who’s chasing us!!?” Albie was confused.

                    “Unclear!” Arona shouted, aiming at the black and white corvette behind them, with Ugo the gecko trying to keep stuck onto her head despite the shaking.

                    She fired three shots of her magical Owl Pellets, reloading after each one.

                    “We’re going to be short of ammo, Mandrake! How far?!”

                    “I DON’T KNOW” the cat meowed, braking to avoid running over a loitering marsupial.

                    HOW FAR Mandrake!?” Arona said, taking three new shots, managing to hit a headlight and the windshield.

                    “You have no idea how difficult it is to find a body of water in this place, do you?! We missed the turn to the waterhole about 30 miles ago, at this speed!”

                    “Better not to risk it, not enough water depth! We need the river.”

                    “Todd River should be around that cliff there,” he pointed. But the road ends… heEEere!!”

                    “GO FOR IT!”

                    :fleuron: ** S PLASH ** :fleuron:

                    The other car had braked just before the cliff, while the jeep was sinking slowly into the river which was carrying them near the shore.

                    “Quick Mandrake! The pearl!”

                    All Albie could see next was the swirl of pouring light mixed into the water vortex.

                    He held his breath as tight as possible, for as… long… as… possible.

                    GASP!

                    “Mmm, that was entertaining. But it ruined my dinner.”

                    The dragon was there, looking at the three of them drenched near its pool. They were back at the Doline.

                    #4745

                    Eleri was dressed in—too short— fairy garments and had sad looking transparent wings hanging on her back. Her hair was full of twigs and red and yellow leaves fallen from the trees.

                    “Have you been rolling yourself into the piles of leaves Ollie had gathered this morning?” asked Glynis.
                    Eleri looked like a child caught in the act.
                    “Guilty I guess, that’s my little pleasure these days. I recall when I was a little girl and my mom was handing me candies for being a good girl.” She sighed of relief. “Gosh! How I hated that period. I got rid of that neat little girl long ago and now I’m just being myself.”
                    She turned around and went back into the forest shouting like a tookantipooh trying to catch a young kakapo, leaving Glynis crestfallen with all the dish to clean again.

                    #4695

                    The note had troubled Maeve. It was different than the one Shawn Paul received, not only because it was handwritten and very long, but also because it implied someone, potentially even several groups, were after the dolls and the keys.
                    “You have to retrieve them,” the note eventually said, “and use the clues they hide to find the important people they protect.”

                    There was no signature, but it sounded so much like uncle Fergus, oddly wordy and mysterious. Was he still alive after all this time? Did he still ride his Harley?

                    Maeve’s first thought after the surprise was that she needed someone to take care of Fabio. The next thought felt like a brilliant idea. Lucinda. Maeve would go ask her to take care of Fabio during her vacation to Australia and would use that opportunity to spirit away the doll. She had the intuition she might need it afterwards.

                    So she prepared her luggage and cuddled Fabio who knew he wouldn’t be part of the trip.
                    “I’m sorry,” she said, “but I need you to keep that sad face of yours when we go see Lucinda.” In response, Fabio wiggled his tail happily and tried to lick Maeve’s face. “No! Keep the face,” she mimicked what she thought was a sad face.

                    After all was packed she went to Lucinda’s with Fabio and her luggage.
                    “I’m sorry, I’m going on a trip and I need someone to take care of Fabio,” Maeve said. As she had imagined Lucinda was moved by Fabio’s look and couldn’t refuse to take car of him.
                    “Of course! He’ll be well treated here with my new parrot.”
                    Huhu,” said the colourful bird.
                    “I think it comes from New Zealand,” said Lucinda. “It flew in yesterday and had not left ever since despite me not putting it into a cage, so I’m buying it food. It seems particularly fond of that doll I told you about the other day.”
                    Indeed, the parrot was on the sofa, trying to open the doll’s head. That’s when Fabio jumped and tried to catch the bird. He clearly didn’t like it and the parrot flew away to a higher ground on an old grannies’ Welsh dresser, making a few glasses and china fall down in an awful breaking noise. Lucinda tried to catch the bird or the china or Fabio, but could do neither of the three.

                    Seizing that as an opportunity, Maeve put the doll in her messenger bag.
                    “I don’t want to bother you longer, I have a plane to catch. Bye,” she said, and she left with bags and luggage without checking if Lucinda had heard.

                    At the elevator, she met with Shawn Paul.
                    “Hi.”
                    “Hi. I’m going to the airport,” the young man said. “Australia. Like you?”
                    She felt uncomfortable. The note hadn’t mention anything about him. Unless he was part of one of those groups who were after the dolls. Maeve grumbled something while holding her bag closer. She didn’t know if she could trust him.

                    #4670
                    ÉricÉric
                    Keymaster

                      Walter Melon knew there was something fishy about this invitation. Or maybe that was only the scent of homemade manure lingering on the Bristol board.

                      In his line of work, you couldn’t be careful enough. And his last visit to the Liz Manor had had its fair share of fishiness, stockings notwithstanding.

                      The invitation and the signature were obviously fake, even if the counterfeiter had taken some pain at imitating the shaky signature of the Dame of the place. But the lack of typos were a dead give-away.

                      I need your help to solve a tantalizing mystery in my latest novel, please come to my party Inspector. You’ll only need wear a towel, and bring your sharpest tools. I mean, your brains.
                      Sincerely yours, Elizabeth Mary Tattler

                      #4653
                      F LoveF Love
                      Participant

                        “Come on now,” said Ricardo. “Nobody has put anything out there about the dolls. Come and sit down on this nice comfy office chair and tell us what is going on. You will do yourself an injury running in those heels. Lovely shoes of course,” he added quickly.

                        Miss Bossy Pants glared at him suspiciously but allowed herself to be coaxed to the nearest office chair while Hilda and Connie raised their eyebrows and Sweet Sophie snorted.

                        “That’s right,” he said. “Just let me wipe that chair for you before you sit. Now, you tell us what’s going on while I make the tea. One sugar?”

                        Hilda and Connie made gagging noises.

                        Slimy creep, hissed Connie.

                        “No hurry then,” said Hilda. “We’ve only been waiting half an hour for tea already.”

                        Miss Bossy Pants wiped her forehead with a tea towel, too relieved to question what a tea towel was doing on the desk. She pulled her phone out and scrolled through her messages.

                        “I received this,” she said. “Read it out will you, Ric. I can’t stand to look at it again.”

                        “Put a lid on the doll story or you will be sorry. And I mean very sorry Very very sorry,” read Ric. “Hmmm rather unimaginative as threats go, don’t you think?”

                        “Scroll through to the next one.”

                        “By the way, it’s the DOCTOR sending this, in case you think for one moment this is an unimaginative idle threat.”

                        #4642
                        F LoveF Love
                        Participant

                          Finnley, how on earth did you manage to insert yourself in the kitchen and do the dishes while I was standing here twittering about doctors and whatnot. And here you are and the dishes are done but when I started my comment, I swear they were still on the bench.”
                          Liz peered at Finnley suspiciously.
                          “Do you have magical properties you aren’t sharing with us?” she asked.

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