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  • Finally catching up with the fluid communication of the Snoot, Yuki realized that they had to move swiftly. — I think it’s our chance to move to another place. Well, of course we can do it already Rafaela, please don’t interrupt. I mean, Anu, you have a chance to leave this place and get back to your ... · ID #861 (continued)
    (next in 20h 39min…)

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Éric

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Viewing 20 replies - 861 through 880 (of 1,726 total)
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  • in reply to: The Room of Requirements #3124
    ÉricÉric
    Keymaster

      It should now be possible to attach some files to your comments.
      Use with moderation (don’t teaf other’s art or pics to upload them, prefer a !http://link_to.img! if you can instead).

      in reply to: The Time-Dragglers’ Extravaganzas #3123

      Sanso was positively bummed. With the sudden blanket of cold and snow falling down on the road and his carriage, he couldn’t use the transdimensional puddles which were either dried out or closed by a layer of ice. To make things worse, he had to take care that the barrel of champagne would not burst out at the rear, with all the bumps in the road, and had to slow down the zebras a little. The poor beasts were looking paler at every mile. He had promised to return them in good health to the Royal Menagerie of Versailles, and started to fear he’d gone over his head to impress Sadie and her lots.
      Chair, the appointed footman seated on the champagne with his cork bum didn’t look reassured either at every bump of the road.
      Of course, he had a plan B. Linda Paul wouldn’t have hired him if it were not for his knack for over-the-top unexpected and brilliant out-of-the-box solutions to problems he hadn’t planned for. He would give Linda Paul the show they deserved.
      They would have to go through one of the tunnels down the road, which he knew would lead them to Versailles in no time. But for that, he had to find the proper one, large enough and clear enough to allow passage for the carriage and his cargo. The entrance was near, and with a bit of magical focus, they could arrive before sunrise through the Grotto of Thétys, an artificial cave, now mostly demolished, but its residual cave energetic imprint could do well enough to let them through.

      in reply to: The Time-Dragglers’ Extravaganzas #3121

      Queen Marie, Our Good Queen, as the little gents liked to call her, had not been as excited at the prospect of the salon since a long time.
      She ringed the bell for the servant girl to bring more wood, as drafts of chilly air were coming from outside. Although quite modern and shiny, the palace was not as equipped for the cold season as the old castles from her mother land. Worse, with age and soft weather, she’d grown accustomed to being warm, and couldn’t bear the cold any longer.

      The crackling sound of the pine wood inside the small chimney was comforting and brought her back to her thoughts. A salon, full of delightful witty people, with laughters and costumes, entertainment and champagne wine. She’d heard a special batch of barrels from la Maison Ruinart would be brought especially for the Royalties. Of course, she knew most of those were small favors for the King’s mistress, Reinette, but she didn’t care. Oddly enough, she didn’t mind the woman, who had been always very delicate and considerate towards her, almost affectionate. To be honest, she was a blessing, as the inextinguishable appetite of the King for the flesh and woman beauty was now too hard to bear.

      But a party like this, ah… She reveled in the thought of seeing again monsieur de St Galle and the mysterious Comte de St Germain who always was the light of the party with his extravagant stories.

      The servant had finished to dress her for the night, putting her new powdered wig on the parakeet shaped wig-holder. She’d bought the wig with its lacquered holder in the morning from a small shop in Paris, which was had quite an aura of mystery she’d heard. Naturally she’d wanted to see for herself.
      The wigmaker was a gaunt and unassuming young man who notwithstanding made an impression on her. Jean-Baptiste’s wigs were simple and elegant, albeit not terribly inspired. His eyes, on the other hand, had a piercing yet soft gaze about them, and didn’t seem embarrassed to look at her, almost through her, as if she were a person, instead of the Queen surrounded by a retinue of bland people eager to please.
      “Let me draw you some fingers” he’d said to her, changing abruptly the topic from his rambling about books he was inspired to write about symbols. He’d forgotten the traditional address of “Your Majesty”, yet wouldn’t be stopped —regardless of the shocked expressions on the people’s faces.
      “You see, I love symbols, and when I draw people’s fingers, I can foretell events to come”.
      So that was it, she’d thought, the reason why everyone was ranting about him. He’d better be more inspired at that than wigs, as her patience was wearing thin.
      She’d had fortune tellers draw her cards a few times, but the fingers drawing part was curious enough to entice her into removing the glove off her eburnated fingers and letting him do his trick.
      An eldritch feeling crept though her spine as he was uttering words for each of the fingers he drew on with a slight pull of his hand, just enough not to crack the joints.

      In the bed warmed to a delightful temperature by the bouillotte, she began sliding into deep sleep, while a mixture of words half-forgotten or half-remembered danced around in her mind like the swirls of snowflakes dying on the warm window of her chamber: “funny moment, cold diversion, dream parade, house moustache pink, blue wonder carpets, possible king turned, green mirror travel, understand whole large parade”…

      in reply to: The Room of Requirements #3120
      ÉricÉric
      Keymaster

        Shifted a bit things around, to clean up things by removing the unused voting function and replacing it by the likes buttons. It should be more useful and will not mess the order of comments.
        Besides, you may earn some karma for liking and being liked.

        in reply to: The Time-Dragglers’ Extravaganzas #3117

        It was only mere minutes before a clunky coach drawn by a motley quartet of zebras arrived at the spot.
        “Hello darling,” the dashing coachman greeted Sadie while the footman was already busy ruffling around checking for any pieces of luggage to take.

        Sadie raised a concerned eyebrow.
        “Mr Deverte?”
        “Call me Sanso, darling, everybody does. You should get your drag queens here quickly, so we can depart without delay. The road is long and bumpy till Versailles, there is a promise of snow, and I got word you’re on a clock. Tally-ho!”

        For a moment, Sadie wondered if the assignment wasn’t indeed a punishment to atone for her preternatural goodness and beauty.

        in reply to: The Room of Requirements #3109
        ÉricÉric
        Keymaster

          I just restored the possibility to edit one’s own comments during at least a month. If you need to edit an earlier comment, let me know, I can extend it again.

          I also fixed the preview, which now must work as it should.

          As a bonus, some styles you can adapt to your comments for prettier quotes (the part in yellow is what to input in your comment, the result is displayed below) :

          bq(Quote). Some text in nice quote style

          Some text in nice quote style

          p{color:blue}. Some text in nice color (most color names should work)

          Some text in nice color (most color names should work)

          in reply to: The Time-Dragglers’ Extravaganzas #3112

          Momentarily left speechless as where to find the edit cogwheel of her last sentence, but not without focus, she booked on her e-zapper the Sanso Tally-Ho Coach for Versailles at no later than dawn of the morrow, while the queens banged on the caviste’s cellar door, thirsty for bowls of bubbles and fresh haircuts.

          in reply to: The Time-Dragglers’ Extravaganzas #3111

          Sadie had guessed right, that there was something off, which was soon confirmed by her all-purposes e-zapper. The date and place were both wrong by a smidge. They were sent off in the Champagne area, a few hundreds of kilometers off Paris and their royalties, and the date was 1757, a hundred years or so later than expected for a musketeer adventure…
          Different time, different Queen. They’d better hope to find a nice ride to get the treasure hunt going.

          Good thing was that the Dragcorp had outlets posted in advance, they would probably have something ready for them.

          “Listen ladies,” she said as they went out on the open to find out the night wasn’t ripe with opportunities in the little provincial town. “Let’s call it a night and get out of those garbs… “

          Terry pointed to a sign in the empty cobbled street and rudely interrupted “CHAMPAGNE, champagne for everyone!”

          in reply to: The Room of Requirements #3110
          ÉricÉric
          Keymaster

            Bumping the thread, to refresh our memory on the formatting (I updated links on the first comment on the thread).

            in reply to: The Time-Dragglers’ Extravaganzas #3097

            The verdict was definitive. The competition had been fierce and now only the best of the best would go to the final and mysterious mission.

            Terry Bubble couldn’t believe her ears and fanned her glistening face with her powdered hands batting her eyelashes to contain the swelling tears when she heard Linda Paul say in her snarkily uppity voice : “Uhuh, that dress, oh that dress sweetie, that was an offense to good sense, but you did lipsynch to perfection with this pouty mouth of yours… Terry Bee, you stay with me.”
            Then, turning to the other competitor, the gorgeous Tina Turnover look-alike in her glittery purple dress, a.k.a. Shantay Mûre. “Shantay, you go away.”

            Terry bowed to the jury, firstly Linda Paul herself, of course, then the sultry sulky Sadie Merrie, and finally took an extra second for Lady Gugu, who she was sure tipped the balance in her favor. She never was a big fan of the ageing star, well-known for her antics and poultry dresses, but there was no denying she earned being the sensation she was all over China —or that he was, there were lingering suspicions about this, which of course didn’t matter in the drag race.
            It had to be thanks to her ; maybe she was fond of sardines. Otherwise, how could self-doubt-ridden Terry Bubbly, like her friends barely over their teens, could hope to compete with the other seasoned divas, like Pseu Flay with her lion-mane wig à la Cher, who were nonetheless one by one eliminated by a strange turn of events.

            :fleuron:

            The selection had gone flawlessly. Linda Paul was boucing with effervescence and delight.
            “Dearies, dearies, you have been competing fearlessly against one another, now is time to be a team. Or find a time in which to be…”

            The three queens looked stymied. They were not used to share the limelight and shine in pairs, much less in a trio.
            “Terry, Consuela, Maurana, you will be our three Muskqueerteers, fearlessly donning on wigs and shiny attires on a mission to retrieve a precious item for me.”

            The screen shined brightly to reveal a glittery pyramid, announced by the anchor’s male voice “The Queen’s Ferrets au Rochet!”

            “But of course, I cannot send you back without a chaperon. Fear not, fate has decided for us, that among the jury, it will be…”

            Terry hoped for Lady Gugu, she already looked like Elton Jaune in a wig, and would do great with Louis XIII, or Richeliou for that matter.

            “… Sadie Merrie!”

            “Oh good grief…” Terry’s shiny Elton Jaune in her thoughts suddenly was transphormed (as if they all had been into a huge deFørmiñG mirror) into that of Milady of Merry.

            in reply to: The Time-Dragglers’ Extravaganzas #3088

            Checking his phone on the metro, Linda Paul giggled at the name that popped on the roster.
            She was already doing her job, he thought, happiness never was so close than after a marathon of Abwa Ham videos. He knew that Sadie would be the perfect addition to his team, as he was planning to send them all back in time for a very delicate mission.

            in reply to: Get your Surge Team straight #3078
            ÉricÉric
            Keymaster

              In light of the new story thread, I suggest a new one: “Get your Drag Team queer” :D

              in reply to: The Lost Loosid Threads—Behind the Scenes #3076
              ÉricÉric
              Keymaster

                Hernwick reemerged from the shadows. That happened once or twice every century, rarely more. He coughed out some dust and other unpleasant manners of things, then started some momentum.
                He would have to see what this area’s fashion had to offer first.

                in reply to: The Surge Team’s Coils #3075
                ÉricÉric
                Keymaster

                  X Trim (the new alias of Ed Steam) was pleased to see that as usual, things happened to converge his way especially when he went on to clean his inner old rattled cages caked in bird’s poop — a rather inelegant metaphor for going with the flow.

                  He’d been pondering going to a new line of business for awhile, had even gone so far as to discuss the matter of a new yearly launchpad, with the core team of old days and a brand new tagline —or drag-line, to be accurate.
                  All of that because of a rather quaint discovery of time traveling device, and a funny twist.
                  He had a brief hesitation for the reignited spark left in the draft of wind that would follow, but had figured for some time now, that all things would be alright in the end, and if it were not the case, then it wasn’t the end.

                  in reply to: The Surge Team’s Coils #3016
                  ÉricÉric
                  Keymaster

                    The celebrity surge as well as the past week of haphazardous strategy meeting in Shangpoon had left Cornella panting and pondering on the mysterious meaning of the motto of these meetings: “touch stone, pass the river”…
                    Now with Easter happening around the same time as the Chinese Tomb Sweeping day festival, an odd impish idea crossed her mind of switching the invitations she was to send for tomb-sweeping with those for Easter eggs hunting.

                    in reply to: Scrying the Word Cloud #3008
                    ÉricÉric
                    Keymaster

                      mari impulse towards come attention dead real flowers
                      cornella realized street already dream job square young magic once green fact waiting

                      in reply to: The Surge Team’s Coils #3007
                      ÉricÉric
                      Keymaster

                        The impending strategy and budget review was now quickly upon them.

                        The much questioned old new authority of the Surge Team had decided all the countries had to join for that week long first round of strategy plan and as Long Poon was too much of a reminder of work (they said, but many suspected too much of a reminder of Ed Steam’s empire), Madam Li had graciously offered to host the venue in Shangpoon, where they had managed to corner 15,000 floating piglets and her services were still probably needed.

                        All the thirteen chief operatives were busy setting things in order, and delegating current tasks during their business trip. Some of them were still hopelessly fumbling in spreadsheets and slides —a inane exercise in style they thought, but still…

                        “I can’t stand it!” Cornella almost exploded in front of her computer, now returned to decent level of cleanliness since Aqua’s return. She was sick of this old ageing alzheimering authority. Not that she missed Ed too much now. He was a pig —and gawd, this waxed mustache from another epoch… A pig they all liked because they didn’t know better at the time and his charisma covered for all the tiny slips of behaviour or even judgement. She’d seen that same feeling when the ceremony was held for his ashes spreading; most of the tears shed there had looked a bit contrived.

                        The mission to replace the pope with an alien-reconfigured Jesuit was a success, thanks to clever team work and her stellar delicate planning skills. A plan hatched before Ed’s demise, but that the old guys had been glad to call theirs. That was the waking call for her. If they could get rid so easily of the papacy, she would blow that budget convention from inside.
                        That required thorough planning though, and a bit of luck. Most of the chick would gladly be on board with this.
                        That’s when the mysterious vanishing dog legs cabinet came back to her attention.

                        in reply to: The Surge Team’s Coils #3003
                        ÉricÉric
                        Keymaster

                          The fourth-age interim authority of the Team had given new directives. They were clear enough. The new wave was in full bloom and required utmost attention, so all the operatives in action had to temporarily suspend their missions pending review.
                          Madame Li, for instance, was again in the middle of a food and water scare surge in Shangpoon, where bloated floating glowing gloating piglets were found roaming freely in the river of the city’s main water supply. And that was the least of those she had to corner these days in the most populous city of the country.
                          Simply enough, they were required to pay attention to what they paid attention and gave importance to… Which wouldn’t solve most of the surges, most of them had sniggered when they heard the speech.
                          “Or are they suggesting we are the ones creating the surges to get a rush of adrenaline, maybe?” Skye sighed.
                          A bit of unwanted leave in all this craziness wasn’t something they all were used to, especially under the previous management, but for all that was worth, they seemed to all relish a bit of pressure release.
                          “Relish that, old horseradish,” Pearl said “now I’m pretty sure they did overdo that religious stuff…”

                          in reply to: Scrying the Word Cloud #3002
                          ÉricÉric
                          Keymaster

                            world seen suddenly smiled, trip come realized
                            read beginning mean dead floor smell street
                            bottle quickly odd ground keep king moustache

                            in reply to: The Surge Team’s Coils #3001
                            ÉricÉric
                            Keymaster

                              Ed Steam’s brilliant plan was simple enough. He had dreamt about it a while ago and the idea had grown on him ever since. Now, he had all he needed to make it happen. The land, the materials, and the artefacts and rotes needed to manipulate the bulk of it around.

                              It was simple, actually and yet every detail had to be perfect. There were matters of perspective and proportions that were delicate to manage.
                              And of course he had to be careful using the artefacts with finesse, to be undetected by the Surge team’s monitoring systems. He had designed most of them, so he wasn’t too concerned, although Cornella’s upgrades may be more efficient.
                              He had calculated the project would probably take him years to complete, but he was fine with it, it was a fun adventure, creating your own palace so to speak.

                              First, the grounds. That of a glorious castle, with French gardens on a large lightly sloped tumulus. His armoured bears could stay in the surrounding forest where beehives were strategically placed.
                              On top of the tumulus, instead of a castle, there was a large mill, a cross between a windmill, castle and lighthouse maybe, with walls white and round, many entrances, rooms and stairs leading to the upper levels. That was where most of the work was to be organized. The whole roof was actually like a city, with narrow streets even.
                              Except the buildings where made from entire stacks of full-sized caravans, making living units, each with its own interior and decoration.

                              He didn’t know why the stacks of caravans were so appealing to him. Frankly, said like this it could seem like a hill of rubbish dump. However, he had visited this dream place when it was full of people, a fellowship of people living in the caravans and enjoying this particular place. He’d figured, this seems so great and I have the means to create it, so if not me, who else?

                            Viewing 20 replies - 861 through 880 (of 1,726 total)

                            Daily Random Quote

                            • Finally catching up with the fluid communication of the Snoot, Yuki realized that they had to move swiftly. — I think it’s our chance to move to another place. Well, of course we can do it already Rafaela, please don’t interrupt. I mean, Anu, you have a chance to leave this place and get back to your ... · ID #861 (continued)
                              (next in 20h 39min…)

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