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index « babble « Freestyle collective storytelling: Mortimer's Trip

posted : 2004.Jul.16 @ 2.48am
It goes like this:

Write a few paragraphs continuing the sequence of events, developing the cast of characters already introduced into the story to reveal their manifold patterns of behavior.

Wait until 2 (or 1 if you just can't wait) others have posted before taking another turn.

Gradually introduce new characters and kill existing ones, yet Mortimer must remain.

Post your own photos / illustrations, or grab them from pod member galleries.
ie. Air, Poxin, Mark S., phong, etc

That is all.

Twisted Evil

posted : 2004.Jul.16 @ 3.16am
Once upon a time, there wandered a scared little boy through the forest. His parents named him Mortimer, though he prefered to go by the name Ralph.

Having forgotten where he is going, Mortimer continued to stumble beneath towering trees in a dreamy daze, when his stomach began to growl at him. EAT.... EAT... EAT!

Looking around, he could not reccognize anything as food, yet he tore a strip off a cedar tree and began to chew on it... his jaws became tired from chewing, as the bark began to taste like dirt.

PATEWY, he spat it out. NEVAR, he exclaimed.

Following his hock of contorted tree fiber drenched in saliva to the ground, his eye caught a circular pattern. Kneeling down to the lush forest floor, Mortimer though to himself, "Ahhh.... what are these?"

posted : 2004.Jul.29 @ 10.39am
"Aiyeee!!", cried the sporekind "Touch not, mine topbrim. We are not the ones for eating."
Mortimer stepped back a pace and withdrew his hand, puzzling at what he was hearing.
"Is it sustanance you seek....or enlightenment? We Sporekind are well versed in the lore or leaf and twig. Follow us and find both!"

Echoing droplets of distant laughter cascaded like raindrops around him, then faded out gently like a cool passing breeze. Looking up, the leaves on the trees above shimmered like a million bristling scales on a goldenn fish. Glancing back downward, Mortimer watch wonderously as the mushrooms took flight, beckoning him to follow. And follow he did. Mesmerised he was.

Their path led to a beautifully twisted lump where root joins earth in loving embrace. The little Sporekind hopped through the curtain of root into a dark cavern beyond.

posted : 2004.Oct.02 @ 7.35pm
Past the dangling curtains of living roots and into a maze of twisted tunnels he descended with a speed and grace born of past-life muscle memory. As the sunlight faded behind him Mort's eyes adjusted to the darkness and he began to perceive subtle hues faintly glowing. Further on the glowing grew brighter and revealed a web that outlined the tunnel system like a curvilinear grid. He could no longer feel his feet touching the ground and seemed to be flying, straight down through the earth at the speed of thought.
After this initial amazement wore off he noticed that he wasn't alone. Hundreds of glowing spirits, faeries, astral entities and aliens were rocketing through these tunnels of perception, popping in and out of various realities and planes of existence. Up ahead Mort could see that a few hundred tunnels were swirling together at a giant hub and thought it a good idea to go and investigate.

posted : 2005.Feb.10 @ 5.58pm
Moving towards the hub,
Mortimer realized that it's size was much larger than first expected, A mass greater than anything he had ever seen lest the sky. At this point Mortimer was beginning to wonder whether or not he missed the sky, but his sense of adventure far outweighed the voice inside telling him to be careful. He decided to forget about the fact that there was no apparent way to get home and move onward (stomach still requesting attention) toward the swirling hub of tunnels.
The closer he got to the center of the situation, the more attention to him the various astral deities began to pay. Whispering unintelligible phrases, here and there sometimes collectively. It seemed as though the closer he got though the more collective and distinguishable the communication became.
After a while Mortimer reached the edge of the mass, at this point the sound of the spirits, faeries and astral entities was permeating his entire being, inspiring every emotion he had ever felt and then some... he didn't know if he wanted to scream or burst out with laughter but he just kept telling himself "it's too late to turn back. I must be brave".

Before him stood the 2 closest tunnels, composed of fractalizing patterns appealing to all senses, memories of his life and glimpses of his future interwoven with the swirling fabric composing each of the tunnels. Using what little sanity he could muster he perceived one tunnel as being somewhat familiar, slightly more comfortable, the other was much harder to discern.... shrouded in mystery. at this point he could feel both tunnels gently, yet powerfully, pulling at him... subtly stretching his body. All of a sudden in a very loud and clear voice the deities collectively exclaimed: "CHOOSE!"

With a deep breath

Mortimer closed his eyes

And chose the more mysterious of the two

At that point his entire consciousness exploded into an infinite sea of white light stretching beyond time and space in all directions.
For an eternal moment his existence ended yet occupied all that is and is not.

Slowly Mortimer opened his eyes.
and found himself sitting in a chair in a brightly lit white room.
The room had one door...

posted : 2005.Feb.10 @ 8.33pm
Mortimer rubbed his eyes. He wondered if the door was unlocked.
It was located on the side of a very large head. The head belonged to a small man
who wore a crooked smile and a name tag that read ~ Pleased to meat you.
The man held a plastic knife and a spoon.

Mortimer reached into his pocket and took out a snack
that he had stashed before entering the tunnel. The frail fairy squirmed in his hand.
He closed his eyes and popped it into his mouth.
The feeble flutter of wet wings made it a challenge to chew.

"You're giving me bad ones," said the doorman. "Nothing good comes from eating faries."

Mortimer did not like what he saw in the little man's eyes ~ hunger
and a desire to use the spoon.

He looked closer at the man's smile and determined that he was definitely a nibbler.
Mortimer's Nana had lost a finger to a nibbler on a similar journey.

Unwilling to tolerate such a loss, Mortimer picked up the chair
and rushed toward the little man. He knocked him to the floor
and wedged the large head between the chair and a wall.

The little man shrieked as Moritmer opened the door and climbed inside.

posted : 2005.Feb.21 @ 8.34pm
Mortimer pushed open the heavy groaning door and tumbled into a strange uncomfortable chair. He frantically looked around and decided that he was in some sort of plastic and metal box lined with transparent glass planes. A panel in front of him was filled with a bewildering array of glowing instruments. By some sort of weird involuntary action, his hands tightly gripped a round object while his feet danced a two-step on a set of pedals on the floor.
“Where the Hell am I?”, he wailed.
It was then that he learned he was not alone. Seated behind him was the scariest cast of characters he had ever seen and his question had awakened them from a drunken hibernation.
Alarmed at his cluelessness, the Chorus of the Damned shouted back, “It’s three A.M. and we’re somewhere in the Painted Desert. You’re taking us to freaking Calexico, driver! Now, put the pedal to the metal and keep your eyes on the line”
As the passengers quickly drifted back to sleep, Mortimer struggled to navigate the metal monster through the desert night. He found that when he pushed one pedal his life seemed to speed up and when he pushed another, everything seemed to grind to an abrupt halt. When he spun the hand-wheel he got dizzy and when he held it still he felt a calmness bordering on enlightenment.
“This is so kewl”, he marveled.
Mortimer tried to ignore a neon rod protruding from the floor that was desperately trying to get his attention. “Come on, shift me”, it urged. “a mighty sword is useless in the hands of a coward.” It continued, “All you need to do is power-shift me and you will be more powerful than a demon armed with an iron staff.”
Mortimer slowly reached for the glowing bar.


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