📚 › Tikfiji007

Veranassessee, a secret agent with many hidden and deadly skills, her torrid love affair with Agent Gabriele, on the paradisiac yet perilous island of Tikfijikoo.

So the Story goes...

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  • in Reply To: Circle of Eights, Stories #674

    Dr Bronkelhampton gazed at the impassive bandaged covered face of Sasha Goldenwort propped up in the corner of his office.

    Stupid fool, she said. What a bloody mess you are in now.

    I know, it’s all gone horribly wrong really. What shall I do?

    Sasha snorted. What! you are asking me? I let you perform your stupid untested experiments on me, clearly I am not the sharpest tool in the toolbox. No, don’t ask me for advise, I see my main mission in life, oops sorry in death that should be, is to haunt you for the rest of your sad little life.

    Don’t be hard on yourself Sasha, and in a way you died for a noble cause. Others won’t have to suffer the way you did.

    Oh Bugger off, said Sasha

    Chris? Nurse Bellamy popped her head around the door. Are you busy? I thought I heard you talking.

    Dr Bronkelhampton!”, Nurse Bellamy, please for God’s sake, can’t you get anything right!

    Nurse Bellamy flinched. Dr Bronkelhampton was acting so peculiar, she was worried about him. And It was all the fault of that little upstart, Veranassessee!

    :fleuron:

    Veranassessee wished she had thought to ask her boss to remind her what Plan B was. It had sounded good at the time, but now she found herself somewhat at a loss. She sighed. Sometimes she felt like chucking all this secret agent business in and marrying her devoted boyfriend, Mahiliki, on the neighboring island of Fukitupi.

    Well she was just going to have to play it by ear!

    in Reply To: Circle of Eights, Stories #675

    But what the heck is he doing? He’s not gonna puke into my car! Armando was giving short anxious looks at the rear having finally noticed where the frogging sound was coming from.
    Oh, no… Al is very professional Tina was giggling. You know, he’s a top consultant on health issues. He’d tell you that better than me, I’m just a cosemotologist, but he knows what he does
    Oh really? Armando sounded interested
    Indeed… Al started
    Cosemotologist? interrupted Armando, almost flying over a wild goose crossing the path of the car.
    Yes answered Tina, batting a few eyelashes in the process.
    It has to do with this new thing, like using emotions as make-up?
    Yes, sure. It’s pretty effective for black spots, for instance, I’m not telling that for you of course. Here’s my card, if you’re interested in some private consultation. I also do sebum-blotches analysis, all you have to do is apply your face on a sheet of paper…

    Oh, wasn’t that mean, Tina? although Sam was finding the discussion hilarious, he knew Armando was quite ticklish on his appearance.

    And what’s the use of his swelling and frog sounds then? asked Armando, in a subtle attempt to move the focus of attention away from him
    Mmm… I’m still experimenting, but it’s an alteration of some of our common digesting bacterias, to have us efficiently process some of the new foods. But as I see it, the process of adaptation of these new bacterias may have some unpleasant side effects of swelling. Fortunately, I’ve found some old beat in the MuSoundeum that seems to help dissipate the swelling effects… I suppose the singer is still alive now… Perhaps you even know her, she was called Britta Toothpicks

    Good grief, here it is! Armando was visibly very relieved to have the rooftop of their destination on sight. He started to descend abruptly, making Chump bark at the slight air decompression, and in a matter of minutes, at the sound of frogs and Britta Toothpicks’ beats, they had all landed safely on top of the River Soup Restaurant and Salsad a new hype all-you-can-eat restaurant, where people would sit on boats and scoop their food out of the soup-river.

    in Reply To: Circle of Eights, Stories #690

    Sitting at her desk, Alana couldn’t focus on the document she was reading. A report from one of her companies. She could feel the energy of that French guy Langlade. He was sent by the Baron, and she knew he was dangerous. She was expecting him this morning, and it was almost 5pm. Well she was a bit overwhelmed because of what was at stake. She couldn’t allow him to take it. She couldn’t allow the Baron to use it. And she couldn’t destroy it either.

    For the moment the crystal skull wasn’t here. She was aware that Langlade knew it. Though it was not for the reason he could imagine. And she wouldn’t reveal it to him… freely.

    She called Mr Isashi. She couldn’t put it off eternally.

    — Allow him in, Mr Isashi. Though take your time.

    — Very well, Aunt.

    — Is Harry here?

    — Not yet, Aunt. Do you want me to summon him?

    — No. Maybe it’s better if he doesn’t show up.

    He looked at her furtively, and she smiled back at him. Her fear well hidden under a dose of confidence. She would never allow it to happen.

    :fleuron:

    Robert was waiting in the living room. He was lounging on a golden couch when the man came back and told him she would receive him. At last…

    Well he was not in a hurry. He was patient, and so was the Baron… for now. And apparently he was to need a lot of patience.
    The pace of the Japanese boy was slow, and he wouldn’t allow him to speed up. Apparently she was nervous and wanted him to feel so.

    The corridor was well lit. Richly decorated with paintings or statues.
    He had to admit she had a refined taste.

    They stopped before a yellow door. The boy knocked 3 times and Robert could hear that the wood was very heavy. As he opened the door, they could hear a masculine voice.

    — You may need my skills.

    :fleuron:

    — Who are you? said Alana. And how did you get here?

    in Reply To: Circle of Eights, Stories #739

    Vessie Darl, Sha and I are just popping down to the beach for some more of them special beauty sea waters you told us about.

    Great idea, Gloria, responded Veranassessee vaguely. She watched absent-mindedly as Gloria’s generous body, clad only in a skimpy red bikini, disappeared down the corridor. There was something about that shade of red tugging at her memory. Vermillion red …

    Red! PLAN B! Oh my God! how could she have forgotten!

    It was two days since she had called him, that meant he would be here soon, that did not leave her much time to prepare.

    :fleuron:

    Everything has to be perfect. She wears a silk vermillion red camisole, the one he gave her, scarcely covered by lush black velvet and topped with bright red lipstick. She casts her eyes critically around the room. It is nearly three years since she has seen him, she doesn’t want to spoil this moment. The glasses of soft red merlot are ready, a plate of miniature liqueur chocolates on a plate by the bed.

    She shakes out her long dark hair and looks in the mirror. Her chocolate skin glows, her eyes are bright. She will do. She touches the red silk camisole … it is still beyond her comprehension how she can have forgotten.

    When he arrives he is beautiful. Too beautiful. she thinks. It is so easy for him, effortless. He appraises the room and laughs casually, he knows how hard she has tried. Agent V he says, a pleasure to see you again. He kisses her. She remembers everything.

    He takes a sip of the wine. She watches him, unsure of herself. He has a black bag with him.

    He looks at her, sees her looking at the bag, and smiles slowly, I have something to show you, Agent V, he says, and she can sense his pride, the barely suppressed excitement in his voice.

    He opens the bag carefully, pulls out a small white box, handles it lovingly. Two years experimentation in the Russian lab, he says softly, delicate threads of spun blue bonnet spider silk and yet strong enough to hang a bridge on.

    He looks at her. Come here. he says

    She hesitates for just a moment thinking of Mahiliki, and then inwardly shrugs, bugger it, I never really wanted to live on Fukitupi island and have loads of babies anyway. She moves over to him. He takes the transparent silk and slowly starts to wind the delicate thread around her wrists. Try and break it, he whispers in her ear, kisses her neck.

    Then stops.

    My God, what the fuck is that?

    Veranassessee sighs.

    :fleuron:

    No I swear Sha, I am telling you, I saw him go into Vessie’s room.

    Oh my God Glor, he might be a murderer, or a bloody rapist even!

    I tell you though, he were right bloody gorgeous.

    Well never mind that! The door is locked Sha. I think we’d better shout out. Make sure she’s okay.

    Right, good idea. And then if she doesn’t answer we can bash the door in and we can both pounce on him.

    Right, on the count of three Glor, we’‘ll shout out, one… two… THREE!”

    in Reply To: Circle of Eights, Stories #746

    My God, what the fuck is that?

    Veranassessee sighed, seeing the two plump lady on top of one another, lying sprawled all fours on the ground, with the door blown out in shards.

    Untie me Gabriele, so that I can ask for the nurse’s help. she said reluctantly to her partner, seeing with a bit of dolefulness, the effect of their strange erotic games already waning off.

    — Are you alright ladies?
    — Oh, I guess so, Vessie, sorry to have interrupted, we thought…
    — Yes, yes… Veranassessee was feeling oddly detached from the women’s babbled and muddled excuses, and even more detached from her own sloppy appearance.
    All she could think at the moment was that she seemed fated to marry Mahiliki, and get loads of children on Fukitupi, a doom that hovered on her head like a rapacious magpie over a precious gemstone…
    Good thing she was so gorgeous she would look great even wearing a potatoes sack. Sure Gabriele had noticed that already…

    Arch-Agent Gabriele came back, telling her he had called nurse Bellamy on the intercom, and she would be here in a minute.
    I’ll go to my room dear, we’ll talk later about Barbella. he said casually, a convenient code for “plan B” between them two.
    Professional as he was, he had also, V’ass noticed, as the women were untangling themselves, made the box and the silky rope very stealthily disappear.

    Sure, they would have more time in the evening. But now, she noticed she’d been a bit too lax on the security around the new guests. Fine that Dr Bronkelhampton’s recommendations were to have the patients free for the first months of their treatments (after all, the more drastic transformations never occurred before the thirteenth week), but she had to be more careful about them.
    She could not have them compromise “plan B”.

    B as Barbella… or rather…
    B as Bee-hive.

    :fleuron:

    — Did you hear like me, Glo?
    — I think so, Sha
    — What’s that Barbiella, Glo?
    — Barbella, Sha, barbella, like barbell… Could be a woman’s name…
    — Poor Vessie seemed so annoyed by the incident…
    — Yes Sha, we have to help her somewhat, if we want her to forgive us
    — Sure, we’ll find something to do, Glo.
    — Yes… I don’t like that Barbella. Perhaps it’s the man’s…
    Gabriele
    — Yes, Sha, Gabriele —does sound Italian, doesn’t it?
    — I was about to tell you Glo
    — Perhaps that’s Gabriele’s wife…
    — Or some kinky sadomasochistic practice we never heard of…
    — Rhooo, Sha, chuckled Gloria, who was thinking of Veranassessee’s dress and wrists tying games…

    in Reply To: Circle of Eights, Stories #751

    Why you supercilious little prout! said the Mummy

    Steady on Sasha, I don’t think I deserve that. I am a great believer in personal choice. You chose to be part of my experiments didn’t you? Did anyone force you to come here? His voice started to raise petulently. Are you a victim Sasha? Just because one small thing went wrong, an accident, no more and no less.

    If it wasn’t for these damn bandages I would laugh.

    Dr Bronkelhampton threw his hands in the air in vexation. Try and see the big picture Sasha dear. How many times have I told you now? My God we have been through this over and over again. Are you listening Sasha? All you can think about is yourself and your own petty little life. You are dead, you need to accept this and move on.

    Silence.

    Sasha? … Talk to me Sasha dear one.

    Dr Bronkelhampton? Nurse Bellamy tapped lightly on the office door, and entered cautiously. She could hear Chris talking to himself, again. It was nothing new, he spent hours closeted in his office lately. Though today she started in shocked surprise when she saw him, the yellow wig from the early days of the clinic was perched precariously on top of his bald head, garish make-up roughly applied, yet not hiding the dark blue circles under his blood-shot eyes.

    He glared at her. Can you not see I am with a client, Nurse Bellamy?

    She cast her eyes reflexively around the small office, although she did not need to look. It was bare save for a pot plant and that dreadful mummy propped up in the corner of the room.

    I am worried about you, Chris.

    He slammed his fist on the desk and turned away from her, staring moodily out the window.

    Nurse Bellamy’s face reddened with emotion, she struggled to hold back her tears as all the anxiety of the last week threatened to overwhelm her. She reminded herself of the words of her dear nursing tutor Edwardo Lemenox. Always remember your calling as a nurse. When the road seems difficult, take a deep breath and remind yourself you are perfect.

    She took a deep breath.

    I am sorry, I mean Dr Bronkelhampton … I need to inform you that three new clients are expected tomorrow …. and we have two here waiting for their treatment to start … and I can’t entertain them for much longer, they are getting restless. Veranassessee is up to no good, and, Nurse Bellamy pursed her lips for a moment in annoyance .. and now she has a gentleman friend here.

    Dr Bronkelhampton turned towards her quickly, the wig falling off in the process, She has a gentleman friend? Here on the island? Who?

    Nurse Bellamy’s face reddened even more as she remembered her encounter with the drop-dead gorgeous stranger, the way he had looked into her eyes as he asked where he might find Veranassessee, goodness, she had nearly dropped her coconuts.

    in Reply To: Circle of Eights, Stories #754
    ÉricÉric
    Keymaster

      In the sparsely furnished room that V’ass had allocated him on the small building next to the clinic, Gabriele Ferrari, local Eastern Arch-Agent for the Confregation, was lying bare-chest on his bed. Despite the heat outside, the dark hair on his chest, and the lack of air-conditioning in the room, he was not sweating —the result of a total control on his chakras, a training the completion of which constituted the first requirement in accessing to the upper echelon of Arch-Agent.

      That Agent V was promising, he could tell. She was still a bit wayward and impulsive in her decisions, but spontaneity was an asset in their job. Mmm, better not get distracted now. Plan B was at stake.

      :fleuron: :fleuron: :fleuron:

      A few years before, Roma, Italy, at The Confregation Headquarters

      — I’m afraid this Dr B. isn’t very reliable. We got reports from the investigations you commissioned on his past, and upon further study of his Internet connections that we…
      — Spare me the details, Agent W.
      — Yes Principate, sorry Principate.
      — Thing is he has shown some mental instabilities, and early signs of schizophrenia.
      — Mmm… We both know schizophrenia is just a pathological sign of accessing other aspects of self… Nothing that can’t be dealt with with appropriate measures.
      — Yes Principate
      — Agent W, you know what is as stake, right?
      — Err…
      — Let me explain to you very clearly and simply Agent W. The artifact that we arranged for Dr B. to find and access the information sealed into it, this artifact, Agent W, is of utmost importance. That artifact is of course well encapsulated into the computer machinery we have provided the Doctor unbeknown to him… It is thus very important that you ensure the good progression of these works. But, despite his… de-ranged mind, as you may say… Dr B. is a brilliant scientist, and his works must proceed at all cost. If need be, send him a local agent to make sure of that.
      — Yes Principate.

      :fleuron2:

      Principate Haniel was quite concerned.
      It was a mere handful of years that thanks to the progress of computers they had managed to decipher parts of the encoded informations. The crystal skull that the Confregation had retrieved centuries ago from the greed and ignorance of Crusaders had waited long before they could start to be privy of its secrets. Centuries of patience would not be thwarted by mere negligence.
      Strangely the information they had deciphered were related to genetic encodings. The genome decryption of most of Earth species had not yet matched the pattern that was found inside the chunk of information until very recently, in an unexpected breed of spiders…

      Hoperfully Agent W would take the appropriate measures, Principate Haniel smiled ethereally. She would see to that.

      :fleuron2:

      Auckland, New Zealand, a week later

      — Agent V.
      — Agent W. Arch-Agent G.
      — We’ve be summoning you for some urgent matter that requires a local assistance. Arch-Agent G. here has advised that your service would be the most appropriate for this delicate matter. Are you aware of the dossier Operation Spider ?
      — Yes Agent W. Arch-Agent G has most kindly forwarded to me the details.
      — You’ll be leaving for the island at the end of the week, after you’ve been briefed on the most sensitive details.
      — Details Agent W? I thought everything was in the dossier?
      — There is a backup plan that has been devised from our best advised consultagents. Let’s call it Plan B for the moment. B as Bee-hive.
      — Very well Agent W.

      in Reply To: Circle of Eights, Stories #814
      ÉricÉric
      Keymaster

        Dr Bronklehampton just put the finishing touch on his last work of art.

        It had required him more patience than he usually had for such things, but his guinea pig has been behaving quite docilely, well, docilely enough to make his task easier.
        The most painful part for the Doctor had been to beautify the visible scars which had appeared upon careful examination of his subject, but he was greatly helped in his task. In fact, he never ceased to be amazed by the accuracy of the information delivered by the costly computer that the Confregation had granted him to pursue his work.
        But now,… now, she was perfect. Lovely as like a Chinese porcelain doll.

        Now that things finally were coming back into focus, the distant voices around made him frown. He was even starting to become suspicious of that Veranassessee girl that had supposedly come to assist him, as she was becoming dangerously close to the experience subjects, not to mention the visits of that Gabriel.
        This island was becoming more and more a crowded resort rather than the secret facility it was supposed to be. Not that he really cared, now that his ultimate deadly bodyguard was finished…

        in Reply To: Circle of Eights, Stories #818

        Veranassessee was not in a happy mood.

        The sight earlier in the day of Dr Bronkelhampton wearing his yellow wig, a bright pink dress which was several sizes too large for him, and carrying a chinese porcelain doll had disturbed her profoundly. She sighed, remembering how he had glared at her suspiciously and muttered to the doll he was holding in front of him as though it were some sort of a shield.

        He has totally lost it, but what to do?

        She had also spent much of the morning trying to avoid Sha and Glor. The pair seemed rather distressed about something … a missing dress was it? Veranassessee shook her head in annoyance. Good grief! She had neither the time nor the patience to deal with another of their foolish and pitiful concerns.

        Perhaps I should tell those stupid nincompoops that to get hit on the head with a coconut is another special beauty treatment.

        To top it off, Agent Gabriel kept slipping into her thoughts in a most disconcerting and bothersome manner. And where the hell is he anyway? she thought miserably, cringing at the memory of their last encounter. Avoiding me, no doubt.

        Bugger! she swore, suddenly remembering the arrival of the new guests and feeling a growing sense of foreboding.

        :fleuron:

        Twenty minutes later the disturbing vision of a fat woman in a tiny pink bikini waving at her gleefully did nothing to dispel her concerns.

        in Reply To: Circle of Eights, Stories #819
        ÉricÉric
        Keymaster

          A man was walking on the narrow path shaded by the tall pandanus trees.

          Mahiliki was coming back from the sawmill where he worked, smiling to the people he met on his way back home. The island of Fikitupi was a small island in the Pacific, and he knew most of the people living around this small corner here.

          An old wizened lady with a toupee was busy weaving pandanus dried leaves into baskets and mats on the front door of her small house, while children were running to and fro among noisy chicken all around the place.
          Mahiliki smiled, fond as he was of Nanaiis, whom all children loved deeply, for she always had new tales for them to hear, and cheering words to share. She was quite intuitive, and had said to him years ago that his new girlfriend wouldn’t stay around and have lots of children.
          He didn’t want many children anyway… but as Nanaiis had said, Vera had left, not without saying she would come back though.
          Mahiliki didn’t count much on it, but he had all the time to wait for her. Life was calm and sweet here, and its appeal was great.

          At a short distance, he could spot the hut of O’panié and Twahissi. They were some funny strange hoots these two. Twahissi was the light-haired niece of O’panié and she was sharing with him her love for otherworldly matters. Twahissi’s parents had left her in his care, when they left to open a shop in the main island of the archipelago, and frankly, Twahissy was far more comfortable staying in Fukitupi where all felt magic to her.

          Mahiliki smiled when he finally understood they were trying to bury something near the culvert on the side of their hut. For apparently no reason, a month or two ago, O’panié had become interested in old papers and had become convinced that the date line was not only passing on the island of Fukitupi, but even more, it was passing right through his hut, and thus might explain his apparent sudden feelings of time loss.
          Some educated people had tried to reason him, but he’d stood fast in his opinion. Sightings of rainbow bubbletons by his niece Twahissi had him convinced even further that there was the possibility to improve this technique of time-travel. For as he crossed the bedroom he could step one day forward or backward! How thrilling it all was!
          Guess only the Elders knew what he was trying to bury now…

          Mahiliki could not but agree with him, as they were giving the whole village some pleasant laughing, and he had to admit that his enthusiasm was winning him more and more people to his quest. He wondered what sweet Vera would think of all of that, Cartesian as she was…

          in Reply To: Circle of Eights, Stories #823

          It had been more than a week now that Claude had broken loose from one captivity to fall into another.
          Not that this gang of strange shape-shifting magpie beings seemed to consider him a captive, rather an impromptu host that they felt obliged to take care of. But Claude wasn’t duped one moment.

          His precedent prison on Tikfijikoo had been relatively easy to break out from, thanks to that unasked for gift of preternatural strength he had gained from the experiments he had be subjected to. Actually, had he not almost been driven mad from pain, he would have been on the loose earlier. Thank the Magpies for his recovered sanity…
          Security on the island facility wasn’t the highest and most difficult he had been confronted to. They seemed to consider the relative isolation of the island and its deadly sharp coral reef encircling it their main asset in keeping their experiments clear from outside interferences.

          Claude snapped back from his thoughts and gazed fixedly at a tender green sprout at his feet while humming a nursery rhyme. An effective trick.
          He had to be more cautious… He knew they could read his surface thoughts…
          Apparently, he could come and go as pleased him, but as he had tried to find his way back to the island facility, he had discovered that the landscape was changing each time he felt close to it. And soon enough, he was finding himself back to the hidden settlement. He knew enough to suspect his affable alien hosts of playing tricks on his mind to keep him in check. Perhaps they were even bending space around their settlement, as far as he knew…
          Not intrusive, and yet not a very different treatment from the inhumane experiments. Except he had no mummy bandages this time…

          Know thy foe so went the adage, and Claude was determined to know enough about his new captors to escape and complete his mission.
          From what he was guessing, as they had not killed him, they probably would release him (if he was lucky) as soon as their mission would be completed —a mission which was most probably the same as his own. Snatching the crystal skull he knew was there somewhere. He could sense they were after it too.
          He was wondering who had hired them to retrieve the thing. Obviously they were not from the common lot of thieves, most certainly not even from this planet, and anyone who had hired them must have been in dire need of the thing.
          He had been told by the Baron that the crystals were storing ancient vast knowledge and that accessing it had been only possible since a few decades, actually since the discovery of coherent beams of light (laser). But even accessed, the information stored remained vastly incomprehensible, and deciphering it could take another millennium without appropriate knowledge of its holographic proprieties.
          The Baron had told humanity was like a child being given a box of books on relativity… And even the mad transvestite doctor was only toying with the tip of an immense iceberg.

          Those Magpies were far more advanced, Claude could see it clearly, and he wondered how he could outdo them, if that was possible. Quite frankly he didn’t know why they had not yet retrieved it. Perhaps they were having trouble locating it too…
          That would mean he still had a head start, however short.

          :fleuron2:

          A faint barking sound seemed to echo in his head… It was apparently coming from… the gnarled trunk of an old majestic tree… Whispers seemed to come from it too, like a child talking with an adult, and whispers around them…
          The tree seemed wide enough for him to enter into the biggest crack of its bark…
          Could it be one of their secret entrances and exits? There had to be coordinate points were they could get out of this warped space… What was he risking to try?

          in Reply To: Circle of Eights, Stories #839

          Veranassessee stared anxiously out the window of the compound kitchen. The sky was grey and threatening. The weather forecast was predicting strong winds and high tides asTropical Cyclone Ycart headed towards the coast.

          She could hear an annoying high pitched chattering in the distance, Sha and Glor were clearly delighted to be reunited with their old friend. The other two new arrivals had declined all offers of hospitality and had slunk quietly to their room.

          In her hand was the little jar of black stuff Mahiliki had sent her in his latest parcel. “This is full of Vitamin B. It will do you good” the note attached had read. She rolled her eyes. Ever the romantic, she muttered to herself. She put her knife in the jar and tentatively licked the gooey concoction.

          TELE LEVU OULU COW!

          She spat the disgusting stuff out and looked around for something to try and rid her mouth of the dreadful taste. To her suprise she found a plate of honeycomb in the fridge. Although there were bee hives on the island, Dr Bronkelhampton had always insisted upon tending them himself, becoming quite agitated if anyone else went near them,. Lately his mental state had not predisposed him to doing much more than shutting himself away in his office.

          I wouldn’t touch that if I were you, Agent V, came a familiar voice behind her.

          in Reply To: Circle of Eights, Stories #841

          Jarvis was dozing in a dark corner of the kitchen. He was dreaming of bees, he had been assigned to the bee keeping a few weeks ago, just after the “incident”. He was one man the Dr could trust. In a previous life, he was keeping bees as a family business. But an accident with the bees led to his dismissal by his uncle. A regrettable accident, too much smoke, too much dead bees. Jarvis had been thinking of a sabotage, surely he had been framed but as he was thinking of quiting this poor paid job, it was also a perfect occasion.

          He had been engaged as a security agent… sort of. He had to pretend to be a gardener and not awake suspicion among the others. The funny thing is that he had soon been contacted by another organization, and had been offered quite a good price. All he had to do was observe and dream. Unfortunately, the man, Claude, who had approached him was disguised as a patient… and he had disappeared after the “incident”. Since then Jarvis had been having strange dreams of mummies, magpies, there was even one with 3 eyes 2 nights ago :yahoo_waiting:

          The light was turned on abruptly. Someone was arriving, still hidden by the tables and shelves.
          With the sound of the heels on the tiled floor, that was a woman… or the Doctor.
          A little twinge told him not to let him be noticed yet. He moved his head silently in a position from which he could see who it was.
          Oh! that big athletic woman, Vasse.
          Claude had told him about her. Jarvis had to be very cautious, because she was of another organization… another :cat_confused: he was calling her agent V. Well Jarvis wasn’t curious enough to ask any further detail, there were already too much to remember.

          She was doing something with a little jar of a brown substance, and brought a spoon full at her mouth. Her sudden coughing and spitting almost made him fall off his chair. But hopefully with all the noise she hadn’t noticed. Mumbling, she was heading toward the fridge. Was she possibly aware of…

          Yes! she was taking the plate with the honeycomb… he’d have to move quickly.
          As she was considering the modified honeycomb, he realized that she was about to eat it. So she didn’t know. :-? He had to warn her.

          — I wouldn’t touch that if I were you, Agent V…

          in Reply To: Circle of Eights, Stories #845

          She put down the plate of honeycomb and turned round slowly, her calm exterior belying the fear which had suddenly gripped her insides.

          He had called her Agent V!

          She had to stay calm, think quickly.

          And why is that, Jarvis?

          Jarvis, what did she know about him? He had been employed by Dr Bronkelhampton, although Veranassessee had resisted the idea vigorously. The fewer people on the island the better as far as she was concerned. But the doctor had insisted he needed someone to tend the gardens, and in the end she had decided it wasn’t worth making an issue of.

          I think I might be able to answer that question. Agent Gabriele entered the kitchen. His sudden presence had almost as disconcerting effect on Veranassessee as the revelation that Jarvis knew her identity.

          A little sideline of our beloved Doctor is to experiment with honeybee mutations. Isn’t that right, Jarvis? And in the process he has discovered a way to alter the chemical composition of the honeycomb. It looks and tastes like honey, but too much of it is deadly.

          Veranassessee turned to Jarvis. You knew this Jarvis …. but then why leave it in the fridge … and why warn me?

          Wasn’t me left it in the fridge. I saw it there earlier. I figured the Doctor left it there. Buggered if I know why. He’s an odd one that one. Getting odder by the minute too.

          A loud clattering outside and they all turned.

          Winds getting up quickly, said Agent Gabriele in clipped tones. Secure the hives Jarvis. God knows we don’t need mutated bees on the loose. V tell the guests to stay in their rooms and away from the windows, and then meet me in my room. I’ll deal with the Doctor.

          :fleuron:

          Bloody windy here aint it. Thought I was coming to a bloody tropical paradise! Mavis was looking outside anxiously.

          Oh this aint typical. The weathers been grand. We’ve been out bloody sun baking most days.

          Oh we have! The sun and airs got special beauty qualities here. That Vessie told us that. Encourages us to get out and about.

          Ere I know what will cheer you up. Lets get a snack from the kitchen. There’s some special ureu beauty biscuits in the pantry, and the chocolate brownies are bloody delicious. Who’d have thought chocolate had special beauty qualities eh. She’s a genius that Vassie. Oh I tell you what, I found some lovely honeycomb in the fridge this morning! Sharon licked her lips in anticipation.

          Oh I’m bloody drooling here, Sha! You’re a bloody genius you are

          in Reply To: Circle of Eights, Stories #859

          The wind howled. It screamed in fury. Cyclone Ycart in all its majestic glory was ripping over the island, screaming out its rage, like a demon swirling from hell.

          The rain started.

          Veranassessee shivered and cursed beneath the onslaught. Water saturated her long hair, plastered her thin cotton dress to her body and rain ran in rivulets down her face.

          She looked wildly around, trying to suppress the hysteria rising in her chest. She screamed out their names, but her voice was carried away by the winds. Breathing roughly, she paused, drawing in a calming breath.

          Then she saw them.

          Goddamit!

          She stared in bewilderment. She could barely believe what she was seeing. Mavis had been right when she nervously told her Sharon and Gloria were having a picnic on the beach. There they were like two beached whales, apparently oblivious to the waves lashing perilously close to them.

          For a moment Veranassessee was sorely tempted to leave them to their fate.

          in Reply To: Circle of Eights, Stories #872
          F LoveF Love
          Participant

            His door was open. He had his back to her, looking out at the storm. Veranassessee knocked lightly on the door and entered. He turned towards her.

            You’re wet Agent V, he said, his eyes running slowly up and down her body.

            His gaze came back to her face and their eyes locked. She felt her knees go weak. God does that really happen?

            Why had nothing changed? She had not seen him for so long, had almost forgotten about him. She loved Mahiliki… didn’t she? She had managed to convince herself that Agent Gabriele was in the past. That was where he belonged. He was a fantasy.

            She was not a child anymore.

            God, but he was gorgeous though. Dark, sexy, he gave off an aura of untamed passion just barely suppressed below the surface. His face was more mature, more closed off than before, but still almost unbelievably handsome. At one time she had known every line of his face, memorized it, retraced it over and over in her imagination. She thought she had known him.

            He smiled. Better get you out of those wet clothes, you’re dripping on the carpet.

            Still holding his gaze, almost defiantly she pulled her dress off and let it drop in a soggy heap on the ground.

            She wanted this didn’t she? She turned and closed the door behind them.

            in Reply To: Circle of Eights, Stories #873

            A few moments later she was not so sure.

            What’s the matter?

            Oh you know … I am a bit distracted …too much going on I guess. She did not want to tell him that she could feel the presence of Mahiliki strongly in the room, his sweet trusting face gazing reproachfully at her. He would be worried about her, worried about the storm. She wondered how he was getting on.

            I understand, he smiled ruefully, it’s hardly perfect timing is it? Anyway that wasn’t the reason I asked you to meet me here, but I guess it just seemed like too good an opportunity to miss.

            I am sorry, she said, rolling her eyes.

            Maybe some other time. He handed her a robe.

            Sure. She wrapped it tightly around her. Anyway, the Doctor?

            All taken care of. I left Nurse Bellamy administering warm coconut milk, unbeknowst to her laced with a sedative. The Doctor will be peacefully sleeping for at least 24 hours.

            And Jarvis?

            Jarvis is an opportunist, but not dangerous. He was employed by the Doctor as a bodyguard, but has since changed sides. He is now working as a spy for the Magpies.

            The Magpies?

            Your hunch was right. The Magpies are operating on the Island, and they plan to strike soon.

            :fleuron:

            Sha was gazing dejectedly at herself in the mirror. Glor what d’ya reckon. Are all these bloody beauty treatments working or wot?

            Course they are!

            They looked at each other. Well, maybe it’s a bit soon to tell eh? she said doubtfully.

            Mavis! Sha shook the lump covered completely by blankets huddled on the bed. Come on Lovey, the storm won’t urt you. What d’ya reckon Mavis, ‘ow do we look?

            A dishevelled head popped out. You both don’t look no bloody different to me, ‘cept you’ve put weight on, she said honestly.

            Well that bloody does it, said Glor, We’d better find that Vessie, find out wots wot!

            in Reply To: Circle of Eights, Stories #876

            Oh what absoloote rubbish, giggled Elizabeth Tattler, taking another large sloorp from her 4th glass of red wine and putting large determined scribbles through the last chapter of the latest Noovel. It was the continuing saga of the Tifijikoo Island story. She really had to finish it, old whats-his-face was on the telepooh to her daily now, demanding to know when it was to be finished.

            More Sex! he had shouted at her last time. More sex, we want the bloody thing to sell don’t we!

            Well I have shut you up haven’t I, she snorted to herself, thinking happily of Dr Bronkelhampton passed out on the couch wearing a pink dress and mascara running down his face.

            More sex eh? Hooommmm, Elizabeth did not particularly believe in putting extraneous sex in her noovels. At the same time that character Veranassessee was annoying her a bit with all her indecisiveness. And what a bloody mouthful that name was. Was it too late to change it? hooommm probably. She had modelled her roughly on the cleaner, Finnley, quite an attractive girl despite her pooty face and superior, bossy ways.

            She vaguely remembered something a tutor at writing school had said to her once about writing sex scenes … what was his name? Emonel … no that was not quite right … Meenol! That was it!

            Make your writing detailed, with accurate depiction of suction noises

            Elizabeth broke into fits of laughter, slamming her fist on the desk gleefully and startling Robert X. (Unfortunately the fainting Mongoats had been banned from the building by that nasty Mr Arak)

            You know Robbie-pooh what is wrong with this?

            Robbie-Pooh, Robbie-Pooh, cackled Robert X.

            IT’S BOORING, The damn characters never do anything. Right well, time to fix that. She took another few slugs of her wine.

            :fleuron:

            Oh God, said Agent Gabriele. Who gives a shit about the Doctor or bloody magpies. I can’t stand this any longer. I must have you Agent V. He lunged towards her, ripping open her robe and exposing her naked body.

            You are so beautiful. All I ever wanted is you. That’s why I demanded this assignment on the Island … to see you again. I have not been able to get you out of my head. You’ve been driving me crazy

            NO NO, cried Veranassessee weakly, but her body said YES YES

            YES!

            Agent Gabriele kissed her on the mouth, making strange and passionate slurping noises, and, unable to resist any longer, she gave in to his need for her.

            ( Yes, Yes, YES! snorted Elizabeth, momentarily unable to write for laughing. Hooommm what about that Mahiliki? He was pathootic. Did he want the girl or not for God’s sake? )

            :fleuron:

            Mahiliki stared anxiously out at the storm. He could think of nothing but his darling Veranassessee. He must know if she was alright. He must go to her. He grabbed his car keys and drove like a madman to the airport.

            ( Hoommm, thought Elizabeth, I really don’t know anything about small island airports and planes. Well booger that, I will research them later on the internoot )

            You must fly me to Tifijikoo Island! demanded Mahiliki, holding the pilot (who had been sitting out the storm in a little airport building thingy ) at knifepoint.

            Are you mad? said the pilot. There’s a freakin cyclone, or hadn’t you noticed?

            Yes, I am mad, I am mad with love. Fly me there or you are a dead man.

            :fleuron:

            ahahahaahah, laughed Elizabeth happily.

            in Reply To: Circle of Eights, Stories #877

            Oh for foocks sake, Finnley grumbled, does that woman never go home?

            Elizabeth Tattler was passed out on the desk, two empty wine boottles on the floor beside her chair.

            Foock you too! Foock you too! Screeched Robert X

            She grinned, she quite enjoyed Robert X, or MrX as she liked to call him.

            So what’s our Elizabeth been up to eh Mr X? Finnley picked up the messy pile of papers on the desk and carefully put them in order. They looked sort of interesting. Maybe it was time for a rest break. She pulled out her vegemoot sandwooches on chunks of rye bread, and, carefully dusting it first, she sat down on a big armchair in the corner of the office to read.

            Twenty minoots later she threw the pages on the floor in disgust, but then, disturbed by the mess it made, picked them up again.

            The character Veranassessee left her particularly disturbed. What a name! And what a Wishy Wooshy Noomby Poomby. Whats all this YES YES YES businoos! That Agent Gabriele was a selfish and dictatorial bastood as far as she could tell.

            She would see about that! She was no writer but she was sure she could do better than this load of old mongoat droppings.

            Well she would if she could find a pen on Ms Tattler’s shamboolic desk anyway.

            :fleuron:

            Veranassessee (V) drew back from his sloppy kisses. Wait! Have you got protection? she asked, imperatively and sensibly.

            Protection? … my gun is under the pillow … oh right I see what you mean, stuttered Agent Gabriele apologetically, reluctantly pulling himself from making suction noises on her breast to rummage for a condom in his suitcase.

            Great, now say that stuff again. You know all that crap about how beautiful I am. I sort of liked it.

            Agent Gabriele willingly obliged. Of course V recognised it for the lustful rubbish it was … still might as well have a bit of fun. He was damn good looking.

            Perfect, she said. Now, what position do you prefer?

            He was momentarily speechless, stunned, and even more aroused, if that was indeed possible, by her forthrightness.

            She rolled her eyes. Yes, you know POSITION … on top … underneath ..front … back… through a hole in a blanket …? myself I like to keep things simple, don’t want to make too much mess around the place.

            Anything you want Darling Agent V.

            A little bit later he sighed contentedly. You are by far the best lover I have ever had.

            Thanks, everyone says that. Hey! Put out that cigarette, there’s no smoking inside you know. She looked critically around the room. You know this room could do with a damn good clean, I could see dust on the headboard, you know, while we were doing it.

            I’ll make sure I clean it next time, he murmered huskily, kissing her, and saying that stuff again, about how perfect she was.

            :fleuron:

            Finnley giggled to herself. Much better! Well who’d have thought she would have a bit of a gift for writing. Carefully she replaced the pages under the telepooh and made her exit. With a bit of luck Ms Tattler would never notice.

            in Reply To: Circle of Eights, Stories #878

            Old Narani is becoming too soft.
            While the attraction of the hole was intensely beckoning, Phurt had been appointed by a strange twist of fate to the guard of the prisoners by the Old Mother.

            Bugger Narani whisspered Phurt, why not just kill them, these stupid two-legged animals. Why the pain of keeping them alive? Good thing the daily dose of sedative venom had them quiet now. They would only scare the mooing preys. Stupid, stupid.
            Of course, it would be easy to just sink a little more than usual her sharp tooth into their neck so fragile. A regrettable accident…
            Phurt couldn’t help but smile a grin as wide as her hairy eight-eyed face. But she wasn’t known as the Doctor of Breath for nothing. Her mere breath could be as sweet as a jasmine scent or terribly deadly. She had never missed a target, never could have.
            She was no mere Spinner; how could the Mother have put her to such a slighting task. Degrading. For her, the most promising Hunter of her generation to be doing this while they all were securing the hole perimeter.

            She would have to go. Something was nudging her to move, something like a fluid water sound, that whispered that nothing could happen to those prisoners. No one would be fool enough to dare to enter the Nest.
            Ahaha, why would she care? Nobody would know. And the little ones would alert her in any case.

            With a prodigious jump, she sprung to the forest in the direction of the hole. She couldn’t be denied her destiny.

            :fleuron:

            Is it gone now? a voice whispered under a pile of giant ferns
            I think it is growled Araili’s voice Thanks to the Snoot’s power of suggestion, I suppose… The Snoot might find spiders eggs delicacy enough to help us in our rescue operation.
            Shall we go there now? Kay? Ready to go and report back if everything’s clear?
            Ready.

            :fleuron:

            Rafaela was not finding it very difficult to jump on the rocky slopes. It was only difficult for her to remember to stay physically focused so that Anita wouldn’t fall to a certain death. And of course, even more difficult to resist to the attraction of nibbling a few crunchy thistles and brambles that grew here and there.
            But Yuki’s attention was here to remind her, and so far, their progression had been smooth and easy.

            But all of a sudden, the small pink nose of Yuki raised in quicker spasms sniffing the air intently.
            What? What? asked Rafaela who almost forgot her focusing. What?! Did I fart or something?

            Anu who was having the time of her life jumping on the coarse back of the goat giggled at her clueless question.

            — I think the spiders are moving too. We’ll be reaching the hole before them, and the Snoot tells me they won’t be moving close to it. But they won’t let anything or anyone get out of it. Let’s hope dear Armelle will spot a path for our friends.
            — Not to worry, Rafaela said matter-of-factly, Army is good at spoohtting. She’s the best I know at that.
            — OK, let’s move on…

            :fleuron:

            Claude was finally seeing a pinhole of light, at a close distance. He could just continue to crawl out his way to the light, and he would soon be release. And to cheer him up, he reminded himself that no man nor beast he feared, with his phenomenal strength agility and speed he now had. Too bad he didn’t have any time to get a proper super-hero attire he smiled to himself.

            :fleuron:

            On Tikfijikoo, the Magpie’s energy maze-cloak was now lift. The fury of the cyclone was now in its full power, and the Magpies were starting their swift deployment.
            The item was left unguarded in the operation room, as far as they could tell, and in the chaos of the elements, surely a few magpies would be unnoticed.

            They had to move quick now. The portal would be opened soon too. They couldn’t come back without bringing “it” back with them.

            in Reply To: Circle of Eights, Stories #889

            Wow that had been bizarre! Veranassessee stood at the bathroom basin and splashed icy cold, reviving water on her face. She knew she’d had sex with Agent Gabriele … however the experience had a slightly surreal quality, not unlike a dream, details slipping elusively away from her as she tried to grasp hold of them. She giggled nervously as she dried her face with a towel. Did she really want to remember? She had just passed Agent Gabriele in the corridor and he had winked at her, saying he couldn’t wait to try the ‘reverse cleaning maid ‘ again. A sudden image came to mind and she saw her skin darken in the mirror as a hot wave of embarrassment flooded her. Good Grief! She thought guiltily of Mahiliki. She hoped the other island had not been too badly affected by cyclone Ycart, so far it seemed Tifikijoo had come off quite lightly.

            Veranassessee had already checked on the guests, Jose Maria and Paquita were still in their room, Mavis was huddled under her bedding and informed her in a muffled voice that Sha and Glor had gone looking for her.

            :fleuron:

            Well she’s not in her bloody room so where is she eh? Gloria and Sha were on the warpath, determined to get some answers from Veranassessee.

            ‘Ere, Sha! Bloody hell! Glor shook her head in disbelief.

            What’s up Glor?

            Bloody magpies … there are bloody magpies in ‘ere!

            What! Nasty little buggers those magpies. Poke yer bloody eyes out if yer aint careful.

            ‘Ere what they up to eh? Bloody hopping all over that whats-a-ma-callit-doo-dacky machine.

            They’ll be going for the shiny bits I reckon. They do that those magpies. ‘Ere we’d better stop them, might never get our bloody beauty treatments if they bugger that machine up.

            in Reply To: Circle of Eights, Stories #930

            Tikfijikoo was in sight, washed by strong winds and pouring rain.
            Hopefully, the major part of cyclone Ycart has passed.
            A faint smile briefly illuminated Mahiliki’s face at the thought of soon being reunited with his love.

            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 #1026

            The GPS was indicating that she was getting closer every minute. She was at less than 8 minutes as the crow flies from the island.
            She had to make a small detour to avoid the now less powerful but still dangerous cyclone Ycart, but all was under control.
            The night had fallen upon her like a bird of prey, and cloaked in the velvety shadows, she smiled, baring her teeth full of squashed mosquitoes.

            All absorbed by the blinking lights of the GPS, and her head full of the roar of the wind and the raging sea, she sadly didn’t notice the hydroplane coming from her left at full speed.
            The shock was brutal, and Madam Chesterhope got ejected from her motorbike which went with her alongside, spiraling down until crashed into the ocean.

            WHAT THE…!”

            :fleuron:

            We hit something! the distraught pilot shouted to Mahiliki.
            Drawing his knife again, thinking of how close he was now to dear sweet Vera, he shouted back “any damage? how close are we now?”
            “Seems OK, but what about the thing we hit?”
            “Bugger it! Move!”

            in Reply To: Circle of Eights, Stories #1112

            The island had never felt as populated as these past hours. Veranassesee didn’t know really which way to turn, really.

            “Gather your wits, V” she told herself.

            Obviously, it was a bit difficult, she had a terrible time to concentrate. The past few hours felt like they were stretching on forever in time, for no reason at all?

            Take that mmm… wanton memory of the night with Agent Gabriele ; it was still fresh on her mind, and yet, she could hardly tell whether Gabriele was still around in his bungalow, or whether he had left… Feelings of guilt on her part perhaps. Well, it had taken her no less than forty pages… what was she saying? It had taken her no less than forty minutes to come back to him and fall with blissful abandon in his hairy manly arms, and that could as well have been happening two, three months ago for all matter and purpose.

            Perhaps that was the work of evil aliens tampering with her mind and memories. Hardly an excuse, she had been trained for far worse occurrences. She had to list her priorities.
            Gabriele.
            Well, her mission of course. What were you thinking? Now that plan B seemed to have failed miserably, Operation Spider seemed likely to be a total fiasco.
            She had apparently lost the item in a purple blood trail, and there was that fishy Jarvis she had to take care of too.
            But somehow, if she could get that item back, perhaps she could redeem herself. Or else, dreary Fukitupi and Mahiliki would be waiting for her. Hardly a consolation.

            Of course, as if to add to the total disarray of her plans and desire to have things neatly organized, the Higloshama gang (that’s how she liked to call the three atomic divas — Mavis, Sharon and Gloria) had once again disappeared from their pods, probably to gaze at the moon in-between a few cyclones… Well, in any case, they would find a way to get back. If pigeons do, why not them?

            As for the other patients, the door was closed, and they probably were asleep. Oh, and in any case, ugly-faced as they were, they probably couldn’t get far without triggering a trail of fear howling. She had to admit, she was sourer than usual. Anyway… down the list of problems.

            Ah, the doctor of course. Well, he could go to hell, but that would be doing her too big a favour.

            The sound of the plane coming to the island drew her out of her calculations. As she was adjusting her holster to greet the untimely airborne visitors, she sent a brief mental note as a leitmotiv to herself so that she wouldn’t forget “find the bee-man, Jarvis, Jarvis, Jarvis…”

            And she did right.
            She almost lost her composure when she recognized Mahiliki on the plane.

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