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  • The machine clicked and buzzed, a belt reeled around a pulley before it finally flushed out a purple gooey juice. “Mmmm, I’ve always loved this power smoothie,” said the Doctor, “Made with five different purple berries and some other secret ingredients.” He licked his lips with such greediness, he looked like a kid he might have been ... · ID #4672 (continued)
    (next in 02h 47min…)

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Éric

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  • in reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories #991
    ÉricÉric
    Keymaster

      Now, Dear Tina Prout (and he said this last bit a bit more firmly, hoping Tina would finally decide to change her name back to her maiden’s name Flove, which was hers before she married that Prout guy who had left her years ago, miserable and forlorn, but not without resources and quite a temperament to boot) You know, this is all about the cycle of transformations, and I’m taking great pleasure in observing the flow of events…

      in reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories #989
      ÉricÉric
      Keymaster

        Oh, he thought, at least Tina’s coming another 8 closer (then immediately thinking he was now changing it to another start of a cycle — another convenient way of saying he’d just blown this new magic occurrence of “858”, but wasn’t it how changes were supposed to be made?).

        Now, what the cloud had in store for him, he wondered…

        elikozoe sync closer especially dear ask soon suddenly began known difficult step”

        OK, Al thought, now that’s interesting… this was no coincidence that “Elikozoe”, his nom de plume (he was born Albert (Al) Yokoso, from a father of Japanese descent and a mother of Cajun descent) would appear like that out of the blue…
        As for “dear”, who else than “Dear” Tina :agreed:

        in reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories #987

        Interesting that we are heading to the 888 th comment in the play, and it will soon be August the 8 th with a third eight in the year number…
        Will we make it in time though? Get around that circle of eights? the thought left him pondering.

        in reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories #986

        Oh well, I think I’ve just made it… Wonderful technology ;))

        in reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories #985

        The door of the garage opened with a creaking sound, and Madame Chesterhope sped up into the gritty alley.
        In that dimension where she had hidden her command base, people were a bit sloppy about roads and tarmac, so she had designed a little modification on her machines to be able to levitate in some of the less practical areas; but she had to admit,… she loved the vibrations and bumps that the motorbike created with the friction of the ground surface.
        She started to giggle, all enthusiastic about the speed and the wind in her hair, that she ignored the road sign indicating that the road was flooded some miles ahead. The rain had been pouring cabbages all past hexades, so much so that her leather suit was in all honesty the best thing she could have worn, not to mention the fact of course, that it was making her totally sexy.
        Two peasants were coming her way, looking at her with wild eyes like they had just seen something otherworldly. Ahahah she laughed, the fools would soon have forgotten everything about it (another handy and sly magical modification she nodded to herself). Looking in her rear mirror, she could still see them wiggle their hands in a frenzy… What the fl…!

        :fleuron:

        On the road, the two peasants wondered what in the name of Shaint Lejus was that rider… But worse, it was heading straight to the pool that the swollen river had made recently, outpouring on fields and little sniggly and thorny paths, like this one. Making desperate signs to be seen and warn it, they watched in horror the black podgy thing with flabby flapping schpurniatz arms sink straight to the bottom of the pool.

        :fleuron:

        The landing was a bit bumpy, but she found her balance quickly. Those transdimensional puddles were a bit rough to get accustomed to, but once you knew how to manipulate it, you couldn’t forget it.
        Now, all she needed to got to the location she was heading to was to hop through a few more transdimensional puddles.
        Actually, all sorts of puddles could do the job, water puddles, even oil puddles… or run-over poodle puddles for that matter. She preferred water ones, for the quality of water was very fluid, and allowed for easier defocusing. Lately she had tried transdimensional exhaust fumes clouddles, but that was a bit disorienting more than helping.
        As far as she could tell, this first one had been projecting her to a dimension in between Earth and the Duane. Incorporating vibrational qualities of the two, with a little more rigidity though. The machine needed a little time to stabilize and get prepared for the next transdimensional jump.
        As far as she could tell, she was in a place that was not unlike her birthplace, in the countryside of England. There were occasionally some giveaways that she still wasn’t quite there yet, like an erratic flying schpurniatz, but she was close now.
        A few meters in front of her, she could see a lovely puddle that could do for the next jump. A bit small for her… well, motorbike, what were you thinking… but that would probably do it. She took another breath, then pushed the TDPP (Trans-Dimensional Puddle Propeller) button.

        :fleuron:

        Flof-flof-flof-flof…
        Bugger, bugger…. What the bloody heck!

        Straw was flying all over her hair, and obfuscating her vision… Darn last puddle had to much mud in it, and her concentration went off for a split second, heading her towards a field of barley.
        Turning round and round for a moment in complete disorientation, she finally pushed the levitation button to take a little altitude.
        Oh, now,… at least she could tell she was in England, because she knew that place.
        How perfect! She could now just move into the dimension to the Pacific island. The GPS included in the modern expensive motorbike had been bipping as soon as it had found again the satellites, and it was now pointing the direction.
        Giggling again, she pushed a new button and disappeared into the sky in a supersonic puff of smoke.

        :fleuron:

        a few days later, Chestershire, UK

        AFP - 2008-07-21 - An new amazing design has been reported by eye-witnesses
        on a crop of barley of a local farmer along with reports of strange booming sounds
        and orbs of light. A sight to behold, the delicate intricacy of these interwoven
        patterns is believed by many to be the work of the Crop-circle Makers, some
        alien intelligence desiring to communicate with us. The theme of this crop-circle
        is thought to be a variation on planet Venus cycles, and would be highlighting
        the number of cycles lefts until the notorious end-date of Mayan calendar,
        Dec. 21st 2012. Scientists have brushed off the allegations of elderly pranksters,
        as this one seemed to have required levels of astronomical knowledge far beyond
        human intelligence.
        in reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories #984

        no network?!
        but what kind of cave it is? grumbled the voice again.
        Can’t possibly write such a funny (and long) comment on a cellphone anyway…

        in reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories #983

        Madame Chesterhope went to the garage, to get one of her preferred modes of transportation.
        She had dressed for the occasion in black leather, shouting a spell in a hurry to the mirror which had been flippantly reflecting back at her some awfully podgy image. Voodoo mirrors weren’t the quality they used to be these days. Bloody buggers of Goblinkeas manufactors… She would have a word with them soon.

        There it was. A shiny Farley Travinston motorbike.
        With some magical modifications, of course, but it had retained overall form and purpose closely similar to the original design. How she loved those machines! She had started to gather them for centuries (in Earth way of counting time), and she could still remember her very first one, the wreck it was compared to this one
        Of course, she had no use for them, but wasn’t that the point of decadent treasure piling up?

        All geared up, she hopped on the seat, and started the trans-dimensional engine. Where was it already? Pacific island… That could sound like vacations she smiled to herself…

        in reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories #982

        Am I suffering personality split now? wondered the voice again.

        I could have sworn this wasn’t my voice just now… How quaint…

        in reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories #980
        ÉricÉric
        Keymaster

          Tina, Tina? Does the tally non-rule on posts apply to the Reality play too? Becky asked, waking Tina in the middle of the night with some anxiety lingering in her voice.

          Oh I see, your babies won’t really let you sleep poor Becky Pooh Tina answered with commiseration.

          in reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories #979
          ÉricÉric
          Keymaster

            Why not take that daffodil paint here, to paint a door, sweetie? Leormn said with the most charming toothy smile that Arona could hardly resist kissing the scaly face.

            in reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories #977
            ÉricÉric
            Keymaster

              Well, shall we scratch all the glukenitches droppings first?, asked Leormn in winking dismay. You know, before we put the new wallpaper?

              A few seconds passed in silence. Naaah, just kidding. Have some paint please.

              And * pof * a few buckets of shiny flower-scented paintings pots appeared in front of Arona, with some nice brushes dipped in them.

              in reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories #975

              Well, now you mention it, sweetie, it’s quite funny because I was about to tell you the exact same comment… That may be a hint that at least our telempathic skills are slightly better when they are shifted, Leormn said with a draggle (that’s a dragon giggle)

              Arona could feel a warm blanket of his energy trying to reach her between her toes, but she felt so very ticklish, that she resisted a bit.

              Just keep it still, you snuggly dragon she managed to say between short laughs

              You’ll find your friends back, you know; that’s just that you now need to beat your drums for a while,… just as Malvina needed to. I meant to tell you, she can get pretty hot-tempered, and usually it’s not a pretty sight, so she prefers to put everyone out of the way; and frankly, even for me it can be hard to reach her through all these dark clouds grumbling in her head.

              I thought the others were in that darn cave too? said Arona in disbelief (for she knew dragon’s talks weren’t really to be trusted)

              Well, can’t you tell for yourself? You’re more than capable to tune your vibration to your friends if you want to. You are as far from your friends physically as you are from them in your vibrational offering to the Universe

              You look different dragon, looks like you’re not speaking like the Leormn I knew Arona shook her head to try to see between the mist of teal-smoke enveloping and twirling around her.

              All things change Arona, and you know that better than anyone. Simply trust your feelings, and reach for the new version of those things you thought lost. They may appear different, but you’ll know without a doubt that you’re where you want to, when your anguish has left place to that warm feeling of being in the place you want that you long for.

              in reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories #973

              It’s been now a few months Malvina had relocated the cave to a new place and she’d been starting to reunite with her sisters in unexpected ways.

              But now, she was longing for something more. She wanted to find someone with whom to share more. To reflect the outpurring love.
              Leormn was smiling as he reached for her inner dialogue. Ever since Georges and Salome had brought them to this new place, the dynamic had changed, and there were new adventures showing up.

              in reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories #972

              The world at large seemed to be going out of whack, and yet, all things seemed more and more perfect to Yurick when he was observing how these sudden surges of unsettling energies where only skin-deep —unless of course people wanted to make them out of proportion, and have their fair share of drama.

              It was after all, only a matter of vibration. It could be as easy as noticing the least tension in his body, and releasing it as soon as noticed. It didn’t have to be big; small improvements were actual improvements, and really, all that ever mattered.

              So, on the whole everything was fine, and he was surprised at how much, despite the sometimes dreadful incidences that had reared their ugly heads the past few weeks, people he knew had been able to cope with them, and no less than embracing these usually deemed “ugly” extensions of people’s own vibrations.

              Noticing a slight tension in his solar plexus as Yann was telling him some little flowers where appearing on the cherry tomato plant, he released it with a grateful sigh…

              in reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories #970

              When Veranassessee entered the room, looking for the guests, she was startled to discover the awful mess.

              At first, she thought the cyclone Ycart may have been doing the wreckage, but soon she found out that no wall was gone, so it was obviously coming from inside the facility.

              What the…

              The super-calculator computer had been torn apart, and the electronic insides spread out everywhere.
              The Confregration would be furious that all was left of their precious asset they entrusted the mad (mmm, mentally challenged) doctor to carry out his insane (err… unusual) experiments was a big pile of unworkable chunks.
              She was thinking of how she could cover up that mess… given that the doctor was still probably reeling in frilly suspenders and silky dresses, she had time to clean up a bit. The Doc would probably won’t notice a difference, as megalomaniac as he was, he wouldn’t admit that a great part of his strides in his researches on spider genome were coming from the super-calculator…
              That nose of a b… nurse Bellamy was probably cleaning up his drool, so she might have enough time to act.

              Pushing aside a few coconuts, Veranassessee backed away suddenly…

              A trail of purple blood now?

              in reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories #966
              ÉricÉric
              Keymaster

                Sure aliens… Why not aliens? Becky said with a funny maniac laughter that sent chills through Tina’s back.
                After all, we’ve been talking to dead people for so long, we’ve forgotten all about alien lives… I want to believe!

                Well, Tina shrugged in complete abandon, I suppose that would not be your last eccentricity after all… But now that Al starts to believe such utter nonsense is beyond my understanding. I think I need to get more sleep too.
                See you tomorrow, and have fun with your rugrats darling pooh… she said with a sugary smile while closing the videoconf window.

                Phew… Becky sighed, with an anxious side glance at the silent cradles that may not stay silent much longer.

                The rugrats have names you know Tina, she said, more to herself than to the benefit of anyone else.
                And hell if I remember what they are now…

                in reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories #968

                Yurick winked at Finn:
                I don’t know for the evil plans of Gayesh, if he’s in alien abduction business or just trying to create a harem for himself, but Sanso seems much less cautious about concealing his harem plans ;))

                in reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories #967

                Yurick winked at Finn:
                I don’t know for the evil plans of Gayesh, if he’s in alien abduction business or just trying to create a harem for himself, but Sanso’s seem much less careful about concealing his harem plans ;))

                in reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories #964

                Tina, don’t listen, she’s only a clone!

                AHAHAHAH, now that’s Dory calling us delusional, see Finn…
                I told you she’s a mad woman, believing all
                that stuff about ancient pyramids in Spain ahahaha

                I’m not schizophrenic, no no!

                And now she only speaks about that Wrick she’s just met…

                STOP THE VOICES IN MY HEAD!

                :fleuron:

                Focus on what you KNOW, BE in the NOW

                ~ I AM ~

                I KNOW I am more than what I appear to be.
                I KNOW it is all One Experience.
                I KNOW I don’t need to know everything, and if I do, information will appear.

                ~ I KNOW I AM ~

                in reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories #960

                New Venice, July, 1 st 2035

                The night was hot in New Venice at this time of the year. The weather patterns had been steadily shifting for many years, and the climate was now sub-tropical in the inundated Big Apple, as more and more people resented the usual coldness of winters, and had subjectively agreed upon a heightening of the temperatures of a few degrees.

                Though accustomed to tell his body to relax, and vibrate at a lower frequency to counteract the sticky and displeasing effects of the heat, Al was finding sleep hard to find. Usually, he would attribute those moments of twitching slumberness to mass accessing of subjective information and bringing them to the objective. With the eclipse that would occur in the next weeks, those were still time of great cosmic synchronistic congruence.

                Needless to say, he and Tina had been somewhat stirred by Becky’s sudden casualness, and relative abandon not only of the Reality Play but also of her three lovely first born to her friends.
                People of that mysterious facility that Becky had briefly spoken so highly of had been doing a fantastic job, considering the very early birth, but still, Al had soon noticed the babies were displaying some kind of emotionless state which was eerie to observe in children that young. He had first thought of a remnant from the birth trauma, but it appeared that they were all perfectly aware, and even more than that, accutely aware of their environment to the point of displaying qualities of awareness akin to telepathy or pre-sentience.

                Sam’s innate talent with the young ones had been very beneficial to them, and Al was hoping, would help them access their emotional communications as a guidance system to navigate within the immense and potentially overwhelming quantity of subjective information they were given such an easy access to.

                Finally after having spent so much time before the cyputer, Al was collapsing from tiredness. He threw himself on the tatami for a healthy dose of rejuvenating sleep. Or so he thought…

                :fleuron:

                Al woke up with a chill, sweat beading over his eyebrow.
                He remembered.
                They would come… Hybrids from their future… He remembered having met one a few years ago.
                A strange bald guy with piercing eyes and strange snorting twitches on his face. One moment he was talking to him in the middle of the ramp waiting for a condocab, and the moment after, he had forgotten all of this encounter.
                The guy had said intently to wait for the time when the Dream would remind them it was the Time of the Reunion.
                So what was next? Aliens coming in their aluminum flying saucepans making mosquito sounds?
                That sounded awfully like the outrageous rants that old Russian guy named Pasha was making years ago in the archives of Dory —which they had taken as a basis for their Reality Play…

                Gosh, that dream was so vivid, it couldn’t be a coincidence… Especially since the first Hybrids to make contact all looked like they were clones of Becky!

              Viewing 20 replies - 1,361 through 1,380 (of 1,726 total)

              Daily Random Quote

              • The machine clicked and buzzed, a belt reeled around a pulley before it finally flushed out a purple gooey juice. “Mmmm, I’ve always loved this power smoothie,” said the Doctor, “Made with five different purple berries and some other secret ingredients.” He licked his lips with such greediness, he looked like a kid he might have been ... · ID #4672 (continued)
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