Éric

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  • in reply to: Seven Twines and the Dragon Heartwoods #4483

    Thankfully, there had been a little left of the potion that Tak had so voraciously eaten.

    Rukshan had almost aborted the trip to the desert to take care of the little shapeshifting gibbon urchin, whose new shade of green looked serious enough.

    As quiet as she used to be, Glynis had shown a lot of cool and dexterity in handling the suspicious food poisoning case. She was gentle with the little boy, and didn’t show much concern about his going through her stuff.

    In the end, she said she would be able to manage curing him, but that it would take probably a moon’s time.
    Seeing Rukshan’s longer than usual face about the delay, she was the one to push him to go to the desert mysterious blue beams.

    “Go with Olliver, he will teleport you both, and you can be back faster. Once you’ll be clear of what it is, we can plan something. It seems rather obvious nobody’s really ready to leave.” She glanced wryly at Eleri who was munching noisily on her goat milk’s oats.

    Rukshan smiled. She’d almost sounded as though she was the boss. In any case, Glynis was right. Despite the cottage becoming overcrowded, and the threat of nearby building work encroachments into the forest paradise, all the unexpected friends seemed not in a rush for a change of scenery. Fox, Gorrash, Eleri and Hasam’, Margorrit and Tak, and the occasional resupply visits from the village…

    “I think you’re right.” He picked up his bag and nodded at Olli. “Let us go and investigate this desert beam. Are you ready?”

    And in a flash of the golden egg device, gone they were.

    in reply to: The Precious Life and Rambles of Liz Tattler #4479
    ÉricÉric
    Keymaster

      Seems Liz’ is being a bit… what’s the word, catatonic? Godfrey chuckled to himself

      in reply to: The Precious Life and Rambles of Liz Tattler #4477
      ÉricÉric
      Keymaster

        I think you’re in dire need of a tonic, my dear Liz’.
        Lest it be said I’m a piece of platonic garbage, I’ll go right away get Finnley fetch you one.
        And no need to say it’s a synchrotonicity.

        in reply to: Seven Twines and the Dragon Heartwoods #4474

        Rukhsan was ready with his package, the plan, the backup plan, and all the disaster recovery plans they would never need to do their journey to the west.
        All of this preparation was starting to make him antsy, and he hoped everyone would make it in time to start the expedition.

        Eleri had promised to be back in time, but she had that tendency to… forget things even more since her bout of illness. Glynis’ ginkgo leaves tea had helped a little, at least for the memory thing, not really for Eleri’s stubbornness to have them wait for her return — such assertiveness that was a sure sign of her recovery she’d said.
        She’d gone already for weeks, and tonight’s was the departure… He had to trust everything would line up.

        Right now, there was nothing to expect… but the unexpected. All carefully laid out plans would never stand a chance once on the roads, he knew that. It gave him some small comfort to just be aware of all the places and manners where the camel’s back would break.

        Pricking up his ear in the still evening, he found out that this time, it seemed to start from the kitchen.

        in reply to: Seven Twines and the Dragon Heartwoods #4473

        Margoritt looked at the spot where Tak was nestled, under her desk, with a concerned puzzled look albeit mixed with a repressed laughter sparkling beneath the surface.
        No matter how stern she wanted to look, she had a soft spot for the antics of the youngling.
        “What have you done this time, dear? You have as guilty a face upon you as when you pilfered the raw mangoes that Mr Minn brought us, and got yourself an indigestion as a result…” she almost chuckled, but paused and squinted her eyes.
        “Well except you didn’t look so… green.”

        She craned her neck to see better the little face behind the mop of tangled hair.

        “My, my, my… what have we got here!”

        in reply to: Seven Twines and the Dragon Heartwoods #4470

        Despite using his human form frequently, Tak was at heart still the same little gibbon his friend had found in the bamboo forest.

        A lot of his inner turmoil had been transformed, like a new skin on a wound, especially after the ceremony. He no longer felt the weight of the other lives they had lived, nor the stir of revenge that was festering inside. His heart was like a forest after a fire, growing anew, fresh below the cover of dead ashes.

        During the past months, he had been mostly busy with himself. He couldn’t avoid the classes that Rukshan would teach him in the morning, but it still left a good deal of free time. He would wander in the nearby woods, listening to the sounds, exploring where it felt safe enough, and at times jumping from branch to branch in his gibbon form.
        He could feel Fox was a bit envious at times —struggling too much to retain his human form. It would become more difficult with the age, to stay longer in a form especially if you started to master it later in age. So he had to enjoy and relish the fact he was still young.

        In the forest, he had felt disturbance, but nothing like the ghosts that had chased them a long time back. There was work done at a distance, and it displaced creatures, the forest was angry. His companions too, and Fox was talking about doing sabotage work. Rukshan had asked him to take no part in it, but there was no telling how long he could resist the call.

        When he entered that night back in the cabin, there was a strange smell, something subtle and precious, like smokey and peppered with ambergris and with a feel of dew on a fresh lettuce. It came from a small package on the drawer in the burka lady’s quarter.
        It smelt too good. Surreptitiously he entered the room and opened the little thing, there was a creamy substance in it. Surely some nice spread for freshly baked bread.
        He couldn’t resist, the smell was tantalising. He dipped one finger, licked it, and… wow… in three quick gulps, licked the whole thing clear.

        Tak was at heart still the same mischievous little gibbon his mother loved so much.

        in reply to: Sold! To The Man In Pistachio #4468
        ÉricÉric
        Keymaster

          The telepath in teal didn’t know what to make of it. He for one couldn’t wait to jump in the era of instant teleportation.

          in reply to: Sold! To The Man In Pistachio #4464
          ÉricÉric
          Keymaster

            Phew, 7 years after that initial assessment… 10% done in a blip.

            The man in pistachio wondered if he had got it right. That odd contraption he’d just acquired seemed to be able to accelerate time.

            Not sure if it was a boon or a curse in disguise. Now he dreaded to push that button again. The refund policy of the auction house has expired obviously, people would have thought him disappeared or dead for all this time… And 7 years down the line, the world seemed a slightly foreign place.

            He brushed the thick layer of dust on the telly, and turned it on. It was the stuff of nightmares. President Tusk gloating on the news with his improbably orange hair. For a shift, he was in a deep shift.

            in reply to: The Precious Life and Rambles of Liz Tattler #4463
            ÉricÉric
            Keymaster

              “I have no bloody idea what just happened here” mused Godfrey to his cashew nut, mimicking Liz’ odd behaviour when she talked to the drafts of air only she could see, and stopped dead in her tracks and with wide saucer-sized eyes as if she was talking to Faes invisible to mortals such as themselves.

              “But I’ll expect Finnley would be able to ghostwrite all of it into a next bestseller. Wouldn’t be the first time, or the first Finnley to tackle the impossible.

              “But seriously,… I feel a bit concerned,” he found talking to the renewed pile of cashews in his palm oddly soothing, as they one by one disappeared. “All this sudden concern of old age, retirement and whatnot. It’s not like Liz’. She’d better snap out of it. Her well of inspiration is getting drier every minute she spends worrying about money.”

              He was considering naming the last cashew he’s salvaged. “What do you think, Rufus?”

              in reply to: Seven Twines and the Dragon Heartwoods #4460

              They heard a loud crash from the kitchen and rushed to see what was the poultry squawking about.

              It was Olliver, who apparently still had problems managing the landing while using his teleporting egg.
              The year that had passed had brought him a quiet assurance that the boy had lacked, even his stutter would not come as often, and his various travels using the golden egg had given him a wider outlook of what was in the world.

              “Rukji!” He called —he still would use the deferential moniker for Rukshan.
              “What is it Olliver? Calm down, can’t you see everybody is all tense?” the Fae answered.
              “Something has changed, Rukji. A great opening in the mountain. I was staying in a village I have seen a great blue light in the distance while there, across the sand and rocks desert, beyond the shifting dunes. Something that reminded me of what Gorrash told about his memories from his master. We should go explore.”
              “I’ll contact Lhamom, she may have heard stories and can help us get there until you get the hang of a group teleport.”

              in reply to: Seven Twines and the Dragon Heartwoods #4457

              It was no shadow day. The sun was right above head, shining its blinding light right through you. Everybody at the cottage was feeling the heat and trying as much as they could to cool themselves down.
              Only Hasamelis didn’t seem to mind. Being a God even a fallen One had its perks. Eleri was glaring at him annoyed while she was profusely sweating. There was always a tense flirtatious hatred, or rather a murderous love between those two, and it kept pulling them together, in a paradoxical way.
              Everyone were glad for the herb cooler that Glynis would decant for them.

              Rukshan was looking longingly at the horizon, maybe (he wouldn’t admit) thinking about the Queen, or for some better place to be…
              But since their fire ceremonial, he could feel releasing the Shards through the burning of the book had awoken something, and danger from an unknown place seemed to be lurking beyond the mountains.

              The Doors to the God Realm had opened again, and he wasn’t all sure it was a good thing.

              in reply to: Eight Turns of the Wheel #4450
              ÉricÉric
              Keymaster

                Starting from the end of the story, Albie finally understood where the traveler had come from, and why.

                In retrospect, it explained a lot. Why the story was going nowhere for enders.
                It begged to be turned around! — back to its origin. Otherwise, readers of the pages of the story couldn’t help but be taken by bouts of anterograde amnesia.

                All the forward looking thinking, the futurists, bound to become caught in a loop! Fighting for a patch of the present, while the expanse was to be discovered in the expired. Truth was in the return. Funny how regression seemed a word tainted of passéism, while it could in turn evoke seismic progress — regression therapy!

                So let us start from the end. The traveler had arrived, she’d come from the other side of the page. Turning that back, a whole new story was to be written of what led her to the Doline.

                in reply to: The Precious Life and Rambles of Liz Tattler #4449
                ÉricÉric
                Keymaster

                  “Speaking of green stuff, what’s with Roberto and his new green mohican?” whispered Godfrey conspiratorially to Liz. He kinds of look just like a Mary river turtle now… Only with less moss around the nose…”
                  “I think it’s one of Finnley’s idea of a practical joke… She may have suggested that it would look cute on him.”
                  Godfrey paused, considering the thought. “Well, that for sure would make it nicely into your new book, Liz’,” he said pointedly.

                  “A new book?” Finnley couldn’t help but overhear, and had faked the loveliest enticed look on her face.

                  Liz’, who wasn’t one to be fazed by the rumbustious maid quickly snapped back “Yes, it’ll start in the most unexpected manner you see. With an ending.”

                  in reply to: Seven Twines and the Dragon Heartwoods #4448

                  Somewhere on the roadworks…

                  The holes and cracks had awoken ancient creatures from the fabled hollow worlds of myths…

                  in reply to: Seven Twines and the Dragon Heartwoods #4447

                  It had taken Rukshan close to a year to clear the fog.

                  He had to admit, he’d dreaded more than was necessary. Faes where a bit thick headed and stubborn when it came to honoring vows and sacred words. There had been lessons to unravel for a lifetime in that year span they’d spent on the holy grounds.
                  Even the angry God had come around, and he wasn’t the threat Rukshan had thought he would be. Only another lonely soul, longing for companionship.

                  Yesterday, Rukshan had finished the book of Kumihimo. Propitiatory work, but he was beginning to see the benefits. He had finished collecting all the pages of the vanishing book, by burying himself in work for the commune, and on the few moments of silence left to himself, reaching towards the source of knowledge and gathering the elements once thought forever lost. Clearing of his Mind Palace.

                  Now he had to let it go. The Book was complete, and needed to be offered on the pyre.
                  Only then the Shards would be rightfully returned, rejoined and ready to spell the next evolution of their journey.

                  The pyre was neatly prepared. Gathering of fragrant herbs of the woods was a specialty of the Potion maker, the gorgeous assemblage of the beams had created a sriyantra-like pattern that seemed like it could easily open a portal to the Gods’ realm.

                  All of them had gathered around at the full moon. Gorrash had just awoken, and the feast was joyous and full of sparkling expectations.

                  Each of them took a thread to light the flames, and once the Book was put on the pyre with great reverence, all of them, one by one lighted one of the corners.

                  They all felt a great weight lifting from their chest, the weight of the sins of their past lives vanishing in the light, and a great joy pouring in from the dancing flames at the centre.

                  All was well and fresh on this night, and there was great content, and anticipation for what tomorrow would bring.

                  in reply to: Scrying the Word Cloud #4439
                  ÉricÉric
                  Keymaster

                    large soft breakfast colour often fire
                    appearance attention friends hermit life
                    sadness woods cottage return pleased
                    precious tea red bright direction

                    in reply to: Scrying the Word Cloud #4437
                    ÉricÉric
                    Keymaster

                      hole sat rukshan rid speak
                      gardener arrived half latest live
                      enter human cover away
                      mater arms side characters
                      once world rest

                      in reply to: Scrying the Word Cloud #4419
                      ÉricÉric
                      Keymaster

                        come interest mud completely forget
                        follow boring dragon ceiling spell
                        latest further dreams liz forgetful
                        realised starting towards death run quietly

                        in reply to: The Precious Life and Rambles of Liz Tattler #4418
                        ÉricÉric
                        Keymaster

                          “Hold right there!”

                          Liz’ looked over her shoulder to see the too familiar trenchcoat of Walter.

                          “Blimey! What are you doing here, lurking in the dark, you gave me a mighty fright!”

                          “It’s the Good Thoughts Police! Freeze your pen right where you are! We had our eyes on you ever since you started introduce all the queer characters!”

                          “What do mean, silly goose. All my characters have been queer, and I mean that as a compliment!”

                          “Shush now! Blatant racism, and hints of sexism and female coercion, you can’t deny that now! Black on white -err, I mean… Look at what you’ve done to the poor maid! You better write this off before the rest of the Political Correct Bureau is sending the cavalry!”

                          in reply to: Scrying the Word Cloud #4407
                          ÉricÉric
                          Keymaster

                            already sighed trees
                            bossy head talking sudden
                            send empty hands others birds
                            stone stood covered gardener matter
                            plants ones run outside

                          Viewing 20 replies - 441 through 460 (of 1,722 total)