It was very difficult to impress a Goullawk queen and a dachshund who routinely flit about throughout time and space but a conversation with an avatar of a Boddhisattva riding a dragon will do it.

"Gosh I'm sorta Catholic" muttered Sassy, "I was expecting the Angel in charge of Dachshunds or Saint Francis or maybe Saints Jack and Ron?"

(Scribal note if you cant figure it from the next line consider what the nicknames were of two leading mid twentieth century academics who were also writers.)

"Jack and Ron are busy having a talk with that producer in New Zealand.
Now Ladies you two are straying off the WAY ..."

"But we're following the list!" interrupted Goldie.

"Yes girls but are you thinking about why certain people and items are on the list?" retorted Tara firmly yet gently. "For example you already have Lady Zen Shipper so why will you be using a Vortex Manipulator? Have you thought about why certain people are not on that list? what that means? Please go somewhere quiet for a while and think about it?

Tara departed leaving behind a lingering aroma of blossom and a layer of petals all over the courtyard to the initial annoyment of the groundskeeper until a few months later he noticed the compost he added the swept up blossoms to was unusually effective.

Fluvia who had been extremely quiet for her while Tara had been speaking lead them off to a teashop for scones with jam and cream and a large pot of Ti Kuan Yin tea to ingest while they reconsidered their list.

Next time its an Oval Office

Wimbly Time

Ever wondered why a certain subset of linked universes and timelines has been beset by continual reality resets over the last few decades? READ THIS!?


Timelines wimble and Wobble and why!

Reg and company had an easy journey back to the Node apart from having to steer

around some cosmozooans and stopping to give a star whale directions.

The parking area at the node was curiously empty expect for one small figure, a

cylindrically orientated canid with short legs and red scorched fur on one side

that had been burnt very recently.

"Oh dear that's me again!" yelped Sassy.

"Look here I told you NOT to come back for three days well two and a bit or is

that one and a half now?
Honestly if you cant trust meself who can you?" retorted herself.

Reg made a strange wheezing noise suspicously like suppressed laughter.

JonaHexed studiously avoided eye contact with either Sassy, and Goldie blurted

out in a huff,

"Well I say, surely you can trust me ... most of the time ... if I'm not near

temptation and bling ... and then there  was that time I went shopping with

Selina ... but of course you can trust me!"

"I have to go get some rest before the climactic scene or resolution or whatever

happens next," sighed future Sassy,"Don't forget to come back and warn you and

oh temporal loop timeline tip! Grab a Vortex manipulator if you have a chance

to!"

She faded out like a Chesire Cat with one limb at a time disconcertingly slowly

dissolving.

"So what were we looking for again?" asked Goldie.

JonaHexed assumed a rhetorical position.

"Girls and gentleborg logic dictates .."

"or tyrannizes?" remarked Goldie flicking her tail flukes in a disrespectful

manner.

" a logical analysis suggests..." resumed JonaheXed glaring at the Goullawk, who

unable to resist the temptation of making a pun responded by asking him, "You

have a girl friend called Ana Lousis?"

(Scribal TIP consider theoriginal pronounciation of analysis in Greek)

JonaHexed glared at her again and continued,

 "that somehow Villians United! and gained access to the Wishing Jewel!"

"Er that is a Buddhist myth isn't it? The Cinatamani?" asked Sassy very

respectfully to soothe JonaHeXed.

"I don't speak Sanskrit..." muttered Reg, " but I take this is some kind of

crystalline based technology that converts energy to mass in response to a

psionic scan of users stationed within its receiving range?"

"Wow awesome technobabble Reg ... that .... that was a truly excellent

expository paragraph ... I think I'm just a bit jealous, " sighed JonaHexed.

"so there's this Wishing Jewel around here somewhere and the Villians probably

snuck one person in and then used it to open all the gates at once or shut down

the defences or some such thing and since they're  ..."

"still here and waiting for it to reset" stated a certain future version of

Sassy re-appearing once again with a sulphurous bamf of displaced air, "cos the

wish they made was for it to be highly improbable that anyone could help stop

them."

"oh well that's easy then," burbled Goldie, "we do stuff other people find

atonishingly improbable, or nearly impossible.."

"... and extremely annoying ..." muttered Jonahexed,

"all the time and with grace and style!

So where's this Cintamani wishy thing?" finished Goldie.

"You forgot to ask me why I need to travel back to learn you!" grumbled Future

Sassy.

Everyone shut up to politely allow for a more dramatic pause, even Goldie.

"You can only reset the Cintamani every three days and you have to offer it

something a sacrifice a soul a destiny something big and reality altering!"

Reg groaned. "One of those! Mkranky Crystals, Cosmic Cuboids, Crystal Skulls,

Grail Cups, honestly you humanoids!"

"I wonder who offered their soul?" said Jonahexed.

Flashback The Cintamani A day and a half ago.

A mysterious figure who's bald and thinks green and prple look good on power

armor ... er not so mysterious for some readers is reciting these words.

"I A@#$^&*@( L56789 of Continuum %@ offer up my soul in return for denying

access to this node and wishing jewel for three days Earth Greenwich Time

twentieth century to any being or power who can stop me re-inserting my cloneson

back into my reality on the understanding that a) whatever happens after the

three day period my clone son remains real and gets to live to a healthy old age

dying a heroic death and b) related and linked condition the first person to

make a wish after that three day period can not undo this one whatever happens

to me so may it be!"

Ah the capacity of English for recursivity!

However it didnt occur to the speaker that that meant some one who had no

interest whatsoever in whether his offspring was dead or alive could have access

or make another wish the very moment the three day period ended.

He walked off to join his villians to rounding up and confining anyone being

currnetly at the Node capable of making a better wish.

To quote a certain Gallifrey History can be rewritten


There was a sound of something grinding to a stop and then stiffly painfully

altering its course. A sound like a river flowing backwards forced into a new

course. Then a sound like a strawberry jelly wobbler quivering.

Time is wimbly!

"So why are we here if we cant change things for another day and a half and bit

?" asked Sassy.

"Cos you are going to need a lot of help to make sure one of you is first in

line to make a wish that brings Teceklstein back and fixes the mess here,

hopefully a wish that stops or limits all these annoying reality resets!"
stated Future Sassy who then disappeared again.

Jonahexed groaned quietly.

Then the giant robots appeared.

to be continued ...

Meanwhile in Teckelstein

Meanwhile in usually beautiful scenic Teckelstein the residents were not happy.

There was a howling blizzard on what should have been a lovely summer day.

There was none of the usual tourist trade from other realms and worst of all A.F. Teckelstein First Minister for just about Everything not had his morning saucer of hot chocolate milk.

A. F. was a magnificent example of European standard hunting Teckel with black and tan coloring and an tail best described as an elegant calligraphic whip wearing a monocle with a jewelled rim.

He was yelling at a speakerphone on his desk.

"What do you mean half the High Council disappeared and most of the rest can't make it through the storm.
Get some one with weather powers to make a tunnel or something.
Where's Leo or Mark?
Trapped in Chez Alfred?
Mark's wand isnt working and neither is Leo's gun?
The sky shield is cracking?
Yes I noticed that thank you!
Don't make me come down there and fix things myself!
And where are Sassy and Goldie?
Well them outside of the realm is always a mixed blessing.
We have more important problems!? Oh really!?
The first Dragon is what ... !!!
Oh Lieber Gott!"

A.F. walked away from the phone over to the windows.

A large statue of what appeared to be a warrior from the early Middle Ages wearing chain mail was acquiring icicles down in the courtyard.

Unfortunately the scales were dragon skin and the First Dragon had clearly had his shapeshifting abilities blocked half way during a change from his favorite human form to his full dragonish splendour.

"Okay now things are getting serious indeed" muttered A. F.

"Someone find my snowshoes" he barked in an imperative baritone.

Over in Chez Alfred unhappy customers were huddled around a fireplace fending off frost bite with mugs of hot chocolate or coffee or odder drinks. At a table nearby a man wearing a hood and a mask was glaring through snow googles at the innards of a gun and another was staring despairingly at a wand while a third was watching the mouth of a flame thrower that was thoroughly unfunctional.

"How the @#@$#%@@@4 can the laws of physics and magic be NOT working at the same @#@@#%$$ time?"

asked the man trying to fix his gun.

"Hey that was not a hypothetical science boys!" he snarled at the group near the fireplace.

"Dramatic cliches still work!" cried a phantom like stranger as he successfully forced the front door open.

"Whaaa that's not right you're not written to slam doors open!"

"Which means" declaimed the phantom like stranger in disconcertingly cheerful tones that were even more out of character for him, " some badass capitalist running dog imperialist overlord be doin' some heavy duty messin' with reality."

Everyone in the Chez Alfred stared at him ...

Several persons jaws almost dislocated as the phantom like stranger proceeded to do a rap routine.

This was disrupted by an anguished scream from the kitchen from the owner chef.

"Nooo the oven's stopped and I had souffle rising!"

Someone screamed "Its the end of the world!"

Others ran out into the storm preferring the risk of hypothermia to an irate chef.

A few more compassionate souls ventured into the kitchen to comfort the chef a distinguished and former British Intelligence agent.

(No not the double zero and a seven one. The one who works as a substitute parent for a family of neurotic bat theme obsessed acrobatic crime fighters)

"Yeah but what's happening outside our world?" asked a more or less mad scientist thoughtfully who was a refugee from Black Dragon spell it like the Tea Island.


Next time "Yes it's a trap Goldie!"

Temporal Pests - Brief Appearances

A Visit to Brief Appearances where we meet the Hexiled One.

There is a place of rest between worlds where discarded minor characters from various dream woven mythos can rest while waiting to be reshaped by some dreamer into new characters. It is a realm of shadows and mists and odd areas of unexpected solidity where mountains are islands and seas are drifting clouds. One of those areas was occupied with, perhaps even stabilised by, a building with a large walled garden surrounding it on three sides. The front of this structure seemed rather like a palace of several stories plus or minus floors and wings as required, and had a strange and unconstant variety and number of windows. It had a very grand entry way of ramps and steps in granite and marble, sweeping up to a columned portico, and yet more steps leading towards pleasantly inviting shadows. Over the doorway in very elegant dark bronze letters on a white gold metal plate were these words

BRIEF APPEARANCES

A RESIDENCE FOR MINOR CHARACTERS IN WAITING

Although there was no true morning in this realm, where sunlight shone by consensus, there was a cycle of lighting varying from room to room. At that moment, one of its rooms was receiving spring morning light softened by mist. It was a very masculine reading room with an aroma of liquor and leather. The floor where not polished marble was covered by animal hides from common and unco beasts, such as tigers and unicorns, great white apes and mere baboons, and weapons with stains and dents that suggested they had been used on far stranger things then those, adorned the walls.

There were also many comfortable yet manly chairs and in one of the deepest and coziest of these chairs reclined a young male. He had the sort of generic Middle European coloring that manifests as light brown hair, somewhat indefinite in color, and eyes that varied from green gray to dark brown. He was reading what seemed to be a newspaper, which despite its appearance of being printed on paper, was actually a holographic  display for downloaded reports from popular e-zines on the antics of various producers and actors. The young man’s name, which usually started with a Jay and an O at least, was, for the moment and quite a while, JonaHexed, since he was currently appearing in a series of parodies and satires. He was quite relaxed until he heard a powerful deep yet female voice ring out across the width of the reading room.

“YOO HOO! JonaHexed where are you? We need your help!” yodeled Sassy.

This was accompanied by affectionate greeting gargles from Goldie.

“Gaghgagrrrhak? Argellalahak! Argle?! YOOOooo!”

which translates roughly as

“Oh where are you JonaHexed Dear! AH is that dear boy? Guess who! Us!!!”

Several residents looked up from their reading material and glared at the spectacle of a talking dachshund and a Goullawk, who had chosen to ride on a skateboard painted gold and purple, instead of flumping across marble flooring in the hallways, entering their sanctuary. JonaHexed however pulled his legs and his head down and made a futile, desperate, and foolish attempt to hide behind his paper. However from somewhere near the ceiling a rainbow serpentine streak with wings descended and hovered over his head giving away his location.

“Thank You Dragonfly!” barked Sassy who then trotted over to JonaHexed’s chair and pulled on one trouser leg, then smiled up warmly at JonaHexed who slowly lowered his legs to the floor and his paper to a table, sighed, and asked, “What do you want NOW?” Goldie with surprising agility rolled her skateboard around and over the floor rugs and parked it alongside JonaHexed’s chair. Both of them leaped onto the broad padded arms of the chair while the Dragonfly descended onto his shoulders and did an excellent imitation of a piece of Art Deco glass statuary depicting a rainbow colored wyvern. Sassy delicately but firmly placed one paw on JonaHexed’s shoulder, stared at him soulfully and stated, “Well we seem to have a problem getting home. Teckelstein keeps fading in and out and trying to become unreal!”

“Teckelstein is unreal!” snarled another occupant of the room who had previous experiences with its citizenship, of the negative variety. A few others nodded their heads in surly agreement but some persons with a well developed sense of irony simply smiled knowingly. Sassy ignored that comment and went on describing the situation to JonaHexed who nodded now and then. He knew from watching other folk try that about the only ways to shut up Sassy, or most dachshunds, sentient or not, intent on making what they regarded as meaningful noise, for extended periods involve muzzling, duct tape, or sheer bribery, and never lasted long anyway. Goldie warbled a steady background warble of agreement as an accompaniment to everything Sassy said. Several residents left the room to complain about the noise, and those few who did understand Goullawk about the inane banal remarks.

Goullawk communication can best described as noises made by an organic rubber flute, involving a series of arglings, titterings, and buglings, with an occasional shriek, whistle, or honk and odder noises, at various pitches and frequencies ranging from the infra to the ultrasonic. Possibly only H.P. Lovecraft could have transcribed it even partly. It is one of the multi-verse’s stranger languages and being polytonal appears to have hurgle as a major vocabulary component. It is not a soothing language to listen to unless you are cetacean, or if not, really truly like wind instruments and ambient music!

JonaHexed’s probability deflecting power cut in and the residence management was mysteriously distracted by a fight in the cellar, caused by vampire residents from a recently cancelled TV Series, who had only just moved in, clashing with minors from an a erotic horror novel series. There were also several ongoing arguments loudly echoing up the stairways from the lower levels.

One group were arguing over redecorating the crypts and how weapon collections and trophies should be displayed on the walls. Sword play was involved and much name calling about combat techniques from the sidelines by European traditionalists who did not approve of hybrid Eurasian fighting styles. Another group was abusing the imperative and the subjunctive while exchanging demands about which fabric colors would match both blood stains and candle light. There was an intense discussion involved persons of several sexual orientations being extremely feline about other people’s taste in humans, blonde or brunette.

While this diversion was taking place, JonaHexed, Sassy, Goldie, and Junior left the reading room and quietly proceeded towards the main entrance hall. A nearby secondary atrium was full of Roman historical mystery characters orating about whose author knew the most Latin. The edge of that crowd mingled with another consisting of a group of people busily congratulating a character who had miraculously survived a whole season of being the love interest of a certain USAF major in a SF series without being killed, tortured, or exiled and lost in distant space, and was about to graduate to recurring character status.

 Wandering through this crowd and winding around their legs and other limbs was a small confused being with short satin smooth red fur, a manly calligraphic whip of a tail, powerful forelegs tapering to diamond shaped paws, and dark hound eyes. This elegant example of dachshund masculinity spotted Sassy and run over to her stopping a few paces away from her, hesitating as if confused yet intrigued by the sight of another dog.

“Hello I am Marcus Rubius Teggellus” he stated by way of introduction, “ and et  and que that’s all I know about myself. You seem to be a similar kind of being to myself. The first thing I remember is a white space and a voice saying my name and then I was here? Dear and elegant lady whether you are of my kindred or not could you explain to me where I am?”

“This is Brief Appearances!” replied Sassy, “and it sounds like our scribe or someone who loves dachshunds just thought of a minor character. Do you recall what fictionality you’re from?” asked Sassy.

“Lovely Domina,” responded Marcus, “I … ego sum … I seem to know … Linguam Latinam cognosco! and fortunately English too! This is the atrium of some kind of palatium or grand mansio of a powerful magister?” he asked, clearly confused.

“Oh dear we can’t take you to Teckelstein!” sighed Sassy, “You’ll have to have your birth orientation here! Where’s that Roman Terrier? Mistress Night are you here?”

A small terrier of very indistinct but vigorous breeding trotted over to them followed by a group of Roman children.

“Mistress Night could you introduce young Marcus here to the orientation committee? He’s new. I have to go save Teckelstein!”

Sassy glanced back at Marcus who called out to her as she and the others left.

“Can’t I come with you? What’s Teckelstein? Wait dear lady!”

A welcoming committee of fictional pets moved towards Marcus and Sassy took a deep breath and focused on the task at hand hoping she could meet Marcus again soon!