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SageOnLL
@SageonLL
LIGHT WARRIOR * WAYSHOWER * PATRIOT * USMC SEMPER FI
"The Sage" on @LoquaciousLive
Leave the Craziness Join Us Wed 8:30PM EST on X
On Wisconsin!
Peace 2 All
5D , USA
Joined February 2025
239 Following
655 Followers
5K Posts
@ThatCheerMomOfX 😂😂😂😂😂😂😂
Good Creative storyline. have some fun follow @LoquaciousLive
The frost returns, the fever breaks,
The phantom from his slumber wakes.
A human voice returns from the dead,
Banishing decades in time of dread.
But many more still guard the shore,
As science opens up the door.
The Narrative: Chapter 5 — Post 4 of 4
Hatter carried the goblet across the laboratory floor and carefully handed the goblet through the heavy iron bars. The 1981 scientist hurriedly grabbed it and drank it down in frantic gulps.
In a flash, the air in the room shifted. The humidity vanished, instantly becoming meat-locker cold—the exact, bone-chilling temperature from Salty’s store.
Hatter and Sage watched in absolute awe as the zombie's terrifying cloudiness left its eyes, and a man stood before them completely back in his human form, wearing his weathered 1981 vacation gear.
The man leaned back and started laughing next to his smiling cell mate. Then shouted, "That was fantastic! Now we need to mix up a batch big enough to feed the entire horde... and cure the Zombie Army of Zombie Island! Oh, & my name is Bob by the way."
👉 Join Us Tonight 8:30PM EDT on our Livestream! Links in our Bio. Tonight we blend the Loquacious Zombie Cure. Make it for yourself using the 13 ingredient recipe below & toast with us.
👉The Loquacious Zombie Recipe:
3 drops Loquacious saline/msg solution
1 dash Angostura bitters
1 dash orange bitters
1 dash Absinthe
¼ oz. cinnamon syrup
¼ oz. grapefruit juice
½ oz. Falernum
½ oz. Grenadine
½ oz. Fassionola
¾ oz. Lime Juice
1½ oz. Chairman's Reserve Original Rum
1½ oz. Smith & Cross Rum
1 oz. Hamilton 151 Rum
🍹 🥃 Shoutout to the people keeping the funk alive:
Chairma's reserve Rum, Smith and Cross, Ed Hamilton Rums
Without them the cure would fail
#Tikiculture #Rumgeek
Good Adventure story with some decent humor. Got a minute? Fun Read
The past is dead, the old ways fail,
A modern perspective must prevail.
A tiny drop upon the tongue,
The greatest song left to be sung.
The final piece of Donn’s design:
Perfect ingredients all combine.
The Narrative: Chapter 5 — Post 3 of 4
Sage looked over the layout of bottles one more time, his hands steadying as he blocked out the howling from outside and the growling from inside the cell.
"I know I got this right," Sage said, his voice dropping into a calm, confident frequency. "My instincts are telling me. I'm only going to replace this one ingredient. This has got to be it. This is modern mixology. This is where we're going. Keep it simple Sage."
Instead of searching the ancient shelves for another mysterious potion or old rum, Sage reached into his pocket. He pulled out a small dropper bottle. He held it over the chalice and squeezed it, releasing only a few drops. He then added the rest of the ingredients..
"We just add a few drops of loquacious solution I forgot I had in my pocket this whole time."
The original creature in the jail—the 1981 scientist—suddenly stood up. Its eyes locked onto the fresh potion, and it began pounding on the bars once again. But it wasn't snarling in anger anymore—it was signaling frantically to bring the potion directly to him.
👉 Modern mixology meets an ancient curse. The final drop of the night hits next!
💬 Loquacious solution? Sage uses a modern mixology trick to solve a centuries-old riddle. Tell us what you think it is? 🧂🍹
#TikiGeek #HomeBartender
Want to know where this is going? Follow these guys. this is a fun, engaging storytelling
The base is poured, the guesses made,
A desperate game of chess is played.
Down the hatch, the liquid flows,
As terrifying tension grows.
The numbers fail, the eyes turn blind,
A cure too difficult to find.
The Narrative: Chapter 5 — Post 1 of 4
The revelation hit like a ton of bricks. The creature in the cell wasn't just a monster; he was the last author in the notebook. Sage quickly began mixing up a batch with the base ten ingredients, knowing with absolute certainty that he needed to add three more just as the riddle declared.
Sage paused, staring at the bubbling liquid. "I've got the base concoction, but we have no way to know how it tastes. We know that this original recipe ends in failure. We need to add three more ingredients before we can even try it."
Sage scurried about the bench, scratching his head. What do I add? Relying on his deep mixology intuition, he grabbed three distinct bottles, taking educated guesses, and added them to the potion. He poured it into a vintage goblet and handed it to the first crew member.
"Down the hatch, Chief Wilmot," Sage said, his voice deadly serious. "If this works, you'll know. If it doesn't... we need to put you in that cage somehow."
The Chief, trembling nervously, grabbed the goblet and took a heavy drink. Instantly, the look in his eyes changed. This missed the mark. Hatter and Sage knew everything they needed to know just from his face.
Hatter quickly grabbed the Chief, threw open the door to the jail cell while blocking the original creature from escaping, and shoved the crew chief inside. The sailor dropped to the stone floor, his body twisting, churning, and snapping as he transformed into exactly what had chased them across the sand.
Hatter slammed the cell door shut, turned to his partner, and said, "Try again, bud."
👉 One down, and the stakes just got lethal. Follow the Odyssey as the trials continue.
💬 The first test ends in disaster. Would you have been brave enough to drink that first goblet? 🏆🧪
@StraightFlorida 😁😁😁😁😆😆😆
I thought for sure he was going to bring the RC boat to the shore & get chased.
Thankfully he's only 80% Florida Man
@JRM58506966 I had both, 86 to 2011 😉
A handwritten warning, trapped in time,
A tragic end to a quest sublime.
The pages shift from old to new,
A dark inheritance brought to view.
The previous master failed the test,
Now modern hands inherit the quest.
Chapter 4 — Post 4 of 4 📜
"Do you think we can concoct something to cure this zombie?" Hatter asked, picking up a piece of vintage glassware.
Sage looked around at the centuries of strange apparatus. "We don't have much choice, brother. Either that, or we're trapped forever."
Brushing dust off the ancient tome, the crew gasped as the pages magically transformed right before their eyes—shifting from heavy hemp parchment to the modern white paper of a 1980s notebook.
They reached the final entry, written in vivid blue ink. Hatter locked eyes with Sage: "The last formula here has ten ingredients. Look... we need to add three more. Use your skills. We'll find the ingredients."
As they scavenged the room for old rums and mysterious potions, Sage flipped to the very back page and found a hidden note. Hatter and the crew read over his shoulder as he read the chilling words aloud:
“I made the formula of 10 ingredients. I have failed, along with the horde chasing the Grail across centuries. I was just a cocktail aficionado seeking the Grail on vacation in 1981. I pray that someday, someone will complete the formula and let me out of the prison I've put myself in.”
👉 Who is the creature in the cell?
Chapter 4 ends here! Chapter 5 drops tomorrow morning as the mixology trials begin. 🧪🌴
💬 Hit the comments with your immediate reaction to this story twist! 👇
This story just keeps building - Have some sun & put some adventure into your day. Read it from the beginning on their main page if you're not following along
The tools of science, old and new,
A twisted sequence brought to view.
Where eras crash and seconds bleed,
The lost lab holds the vital seed.
Bewildered eyes scan through the room,
Is this a savior or a tomb?
The Narrative: Chapter 4 — Post 3 of 4
Hatter and Sage followed the creature's trembling, pale finger. It was pointing directly at a long workbench cluttered with a dizzying array of laboratory equipment that spanned centuries. Distillation columns from the 1800s sat right next to electronic testing gear and glass beakers from the 1980s.
Sage and Hatter looked at each other, completely puzzled and bewildered. They had no idea what kind of anomaly they had fallen into, or where in the hell they actually were in the stream of time. They only knew one thing: for the moment, the thick limestone walls kept them safe.
The creature in the cell incessantly pounded on the bars, growling loudly as it pointed over and over again at the rows of dusty glass beakers sitting on a wooden shelf above the massive workbench. Hatter’s head snapped up, the musician in him instantly locking onto the steady cadence of the metal hitting metal.
Suddenly, the fog cleared, and Donn's riddle rushed back into his mind with absolute clarity: “The master's glass, a tasting glen... To break the chain and heal the host, Add three more to resurrect the ghost.”
"Sage..." Hatter declared, his eyes wide. "He's telling us. Use the laboratory. Use the laboratory." In an instant the zombie howled, raising his arms signaling TOUCHDOWN! Hatter hits paydirt!
👉 The riddle is a recipe. Follow us as the clock ticks down to the first test.
💬 Hatter's musical brain connects the pounding rhythm to the riddle. Do you ever use music or rhythm to solve a complex problem? 🥁🧠
#LoquaciousRumOdyssey #Storyteller
Hey, need a short break? Like adventure / Fantasy?
This is an engaging funny storyline if you're into #Cocktails & #ClassicRock
A spark of iron splits the night,
Old fuel ignites a ghostly light.
Across the floor, the shadows flee,
Revealing trapped antiquity.
From ancient brass to modern glass,
The timeline bends within the pass.
The Narrative: Chapter 4 — Post 1 of 4
Sage and Hatter stood frozen in the pitch black of the ancient limestone structure, the two fastest crew members who had outrun the sprinting horde breathing heavily right beside them.
Outside, the heavy oak door shattered the quiet, shuddering violently under a barrage of furious claws and non-human shrieks.
"Find some lighting," Hatter told the crew, his voice a tense, commanding whisper.
The two sailors scurried about the blackness, their hands sweeping frantically across cold stone walls and old wooden benches. Luckily, one of them struck a ferro rod.
Brilliant sparks cascaded into the dark, catching the volatile remnants of a wick in an old lantern. As more sparks flew, the room slowly came to life, illuminated by a bizarre, mismatched collection of oil lamps & lanterns ranging in age from the 1 A.D. all the way to the 1980s.
👉 Trapped in the dark, but the lights are on. Follow the Odyssey to see what the shadows reveal next!
💬 A ferro rod saves the day. What's your absolute must-have survival tool if you were stranded on an uncharted island? 🔦🔥
#Tikiculture #Cocktailhistory
The oak door slams, the iron falls,
Safe behind the limestone walls.
But in the dark, the shadows creep,
Secrets that the island keeps.
Screams and scratches on the wood,
Trapped where older failure stood.
The Narrative: Chapter 3 — Post 5 of 5
"MOVE! MOVE! FOR THE COVE!!" Hatter screamed over the chaos.
Sage and Hatter and the two fastest crew members dove inside the ancient structure and violently slammed the heavy oak door shut. The heavy iron latch dropped into place with a loud, echoing THUD.
Inside, there was nothing but their own heavy, ragged breathing in the dark, contrasted with the sound of furious scratching and the screaming of their crew right on the other side of the oak panels.
They were completely cut off from the ship, locked in the pitch black, with an army of sprinting phantoms hammering on the walls.
👉 Barricaded and surrounded. The journey continues tomorrow morning as Chapter 4 takes us into the dark to face what is hiding in the laboratory.
💬 They made it inside, but they're trapped. What would be your immediate next move in a pitch-black room with monsters scraping at the door? 🚪🔒
👉 Follow Us as we attempt to solve Donn’s riddle
📢 WE’RE LOOKING FOR CREW: Enjoying the adventure? Let Us know in the comments cast your net over the adventurers in your circle. Tag a Tiki friend for a ride along on the journey.
#Cliffhanger #Trapped #Storyteller
A boot heel snaps upon the shore,
One step unleashes what was locked before.
No shuffling dead, no slow advance,
A terrifying, sprinting phantom dance.
Run for the cove, secure the gate,
Before the jungle seals your fate.
The Narrative: Chapter 3 — Post 4 of 5
Sage decided to join the foraging party. He swung his legs over the wooden gunwale of the Durham boat and hopped down. The exact millisecond his boots hit the sand, the presence of the hidden master map triggered the island's curse.
BANG. A violent shockwave rippled through the sand in a stylized burst. The island wasn't abandoned. It was a cage.
From the thick, dark jungle 150 yards down the beach from the left, a horde of cursed souls burst through the foliage. They didn't shuffle or stumble; they moved with the terrifying, explosive speed of Usain Bolt, tearing across the white sand directly toward the landing party as deafening, non-human shrieks echoed across the bay.
Panic broke out instantly. Hatter, Sage, and the remaining crew members high tailed across the sand, sprinting for their lives. Fifty yards down the beach, the shoreline curved sharply into a small cove on the corner of the island where an old, single-story limestone building sat half-swallowed by the jungle.
👉 The chase is on. The final drop of the night hits next!
💬 Forget the slow-walking dead—sprinting cursed souls change the game entirely. Hit the comments with your escape plan! 🏃♂️💨
📢 RECRUIT FOR THE ODYSSEY: If this sprint got your heart racing, invite a fellow adventurer into the crew
#Tikiculture #Tikiadventure
The anchor falls to the blinding white,
A paradisiacal, deceptive sight.
The galleys bare, the water clear,
But military instinct senses the veneer.
Forage the tree line, search the sand,
Before the shadows claim the land.
The Narrative: Chapter 3 — Post 3 of 5
The shore was finally within reach, but the voyage had exacted a heavy toll. The massive wooden frigate sat at a dead stop, her great canvas sails furled tight against the spars. The ink-black depths of the thousand fathoms had vanished, replaced by twenty-five feet of breathtaking, crystal-clear azure water. From the bow, the heavy iron anchor splashed into the brine, settling deep into the pristine white sand below.
The galleys were hollow echoes of themselves, provisions had reached a critical low, and the cryptic riddle remained a stubborn, unsolved ghost.
Hatter and Sage stood by the ship's wooden railing, silhouetted by the morning sun as it baked the deck, scanning the quiet horizon of the uncharted beach.
Hatter turned to Sage, his expression serious and calculating. "Provisions are dry, Sage. We're running on fumes and prayers. We need to lower a couple Durham boats, take a landing party of ten, and see what we can forage from that tree line."
Sage stared at the beautiful, eerily still sand, his military instincts flaring like a signal flare. He gave a slow, grounded nod. "Agreed. But we don't move an inch without our bearings. You prep the crew... I'm grabbing the map. Just in case."
Minutes later, the lifeboat hissed as it was pulled onto the white sand. Hatter was already moving, directing the ten crewmen as they fanned out toward the jungle's edge, searching for coconuts, berries, and any scrap of tropical sustenance. Sage remained a bit behind, sitting in the boat for a fleeting moment, silently surveying the dense tree line and monitoring every shadow.
👉 The island looks like paradise, but the trap is set. Post 4 drops tonight.
💬 THE TACTICAL VIEW: Sage's instincts are screaming despite the scenery. Tell us what you think they'll find on the island in the comments. 🏝🏝️
📢 EXPAND THE CREW: We've made landfall! If you're riding shotgun on this Odyssey, hit that share button or tag a friend to bring them on deck. Let's grow the crew before we row ashore.
#LoquaciousRumOdyssey #SurvivalMode #UnchartedIsland #AdventureTravel #TikiCulture #TallShips #BeachForaging #Storytelling
The charts are unrolled upon the deck,
A sudden shift, a deeper speck.
The crystal shallow fades away,
To sapphire blue at break of day.
Look to the port, the lookout cries,
As uncharted land begins to rise.
The Narrative: Chapter 3 — Post 2 of 5
Morning broke over a different kind of ocean. The Dry Tortugas were a memory to the east. Ahead lay a thousand fathoms of ink, and a destination that didn't exist on any civilized chart. The massive wooden frigate ran west-southwest, her canvas sails intensely backlit by the blinding morning sun positioned directly at her stern, casting long, dramatic shadows forward across the wooden deck of the SS Loquacious.
Hatter paced the planks, holding his head, completely consumed by the puzzle and muttering the words out loud for the hundredth time. "…The master's glass, a frozen line… bound by only nine… add four to resurrect the ghost…" Hatter stopped, his pacing urgent and stressed as he looked over at Sage at the ship's bow. "What the hell does it mean, Sage? Is it a math puzzle? A warning? What are we looking for?"
Sage stood firmly at the bow, his back to the rising sun, scanning the horizon ahead with focused, intense eyes. "I'm just not sure yet, brother," Sage replied, his tone deep, gritty, and grounded. "But thank God those words didn't end up in a swiss cheese hole. You remember them exactly, right?"
Hatter walked up to the bow railing next to Sage, both men silhouetted by the morning glare as a pod of spotted dolphins surfed in the wake of the bow in front of them. He shook his head with a wry, nervous smile, quoting with a philosophical, classic rock swagger: "Yeah, I remember. Makes me think of what Peart wrote… 'Mystic rhythms capture my thoughts / We sometimes catch a window / A glimpse of what's beyond.' We're staring right through the window now, Sage. We just need to find the damn island."
Suddenly, the ocean beneath the hull shifted. The crystal water instantly plummeted into an impossibly rich, dark sapphire blue—the sign of a massive drop-off into a thousand fathoms. A heavy morning sea air hung in the wind as the hull pushed through the deep water.
Not thirty minutes later, the sailor in the crow's nest screeched, “LAND HO!” He leaned out over the nest rail, pointing frantically. “Look Captain! Ten degrees to port on the horizon... there she is!” Sage looked over at Hatter, the corner of his mouth twitching into a grin. “And you thought we were lost at sea.”
👉 THE ISLAND IS SPOTTED. What happens next? What's your guess?
EXPAND THE CREW: If you’re riding shotgun on this Odyssey, hit the share button. Invite a friend & bring them on deck. Let's grow the crew before we row ashore,
#TikiLore #RumMixology
Gooooooooood Morning X
The morning light crests the horizon,
the voyage is officially underway.
We promised an early start today
The map holds the cryptic key
to the next phase of our Rum Odyssey.
Study it with care. This isn’t merely about navigation; it is a tactical blueprint of the delicious Tiki encounters that lie ahead.
The Challenge: Chapter 3 — Bonus Post (1 of 5)
We have coded the parchment with eight specific cocktail clues. Can you identify every one of them, and do you recognize the legendary Tiki figures they represent?
The water shifts to the ink-black of a thousand fathoms, revealing an island that exists on no official chart. The riddle begins to take shape.
Analyze the visual clues and tell us: What do you believe we’ll be flash blending? 🧭🥃
#LoquaciousRumOdyssey #Tiki #RumMixology #CocktailHistory #Adventure
The master's glass, a tasting glen,
The past is bound by only ten.
To break the chain and heal the host,
Add three more to resurrect the ghost.
The Narrative: Chapter 2 — Post 5 of 5
The ship sat fully afloat next to the pier, her decks ablaze with lantern light. The ghostly crew was a blur of motion, hauling ropes and prepping lines. Donn gestured broadly to the vessel, then pointed to the hovering, glowing map.
"I present to you the SS Loquacious," Donn said, his voice an echoing, powerful baritone. "She has a full crew, she's provisioned, armed, and she belongs to you now. Listen closely, Gentlemen. There have been many that have come before you seeking to Drink with the Grail... and you'll find many have failed."
The purple fire in Donn's eyes flared intensely as his voice dropped into an enigmatic, chilling cadence. He tapped a marker on the glowing map.
"Before you board, commit these words to memory: The master's glass, a tasting glen, The past is bound by only ten. To break the chain and heal the host, Add three more to resurrect the ghost."
He stepped back into the midnight mist, gesturing to the open sea. "Now Gentlemen, sail her west-southwest past the Tortugas. When the water turns the deep blue of one thousand fathoms, you'll find an island that isn't on any map. That's your destination."
Hatter and Sage looked at each other, completely awestruck. Hatter's face was lined with a look of deep, profound concern. Sage firmly took the glowing Map from Donn's hands, squared his shoulders, and turned toward the gangplank to board. Without hesitation, Hatter followed closely behind.
As the map left Donn's hands, the purple fire vanished, and he instantly returned to his natural state, fading slightly into the midnight mist. He raised a hand in a final salute as the ship cleared the pier, shouting:
"Good luck, boys. You're going to need it."
The SS Loquacious under full sail sliced through the black water heading out into the immense, star-filled night sky of Key West, leaving the Knight pier far behind.
👉 THE SAILS ARE SET: Tomorrow morning—very early—we are dropping the official map and kicking this journey into overdrive.
📢 EXPAND THE CREW: If you're hooked on the lore, hit that share button tonight or tag a fellow traveler who needs to be on this voyage with us. Let’s grow the crew before dawn.
💬 DECODE THE RIDDLE: "The past is bound by only ten... Add three more to resurrect the ghost." Drop your guesses below—what do these numbers mean for the adventure ahead? 🥃📊
#LoquaciousRumOdyssey #TikiLore #Storytelling
The ocean boils, the timbers groan,
A ghostly vessel claims her own.
From velvet depths of black and foam,
The old world finds a brand new home.
The canvas snaps, the lanterns flare,
A phantom ship commands the air.
The Narrative: Chapter 2 — Post 4 of 5
BANG. The instant Donn touched the scroll; a shockwave of energy rippled through the air. Donn’s eyes ignited, turning into the exact same blazing, electric purple that Sage and Hatter had seen burning out of Salty’s eyes. In his hands, the scroll violently uncurled itself, hovering in mid-air as the parchment transformed into a glowing, shifting projection of the master Odyssey Map. The ink didn't just bleed... it came alive.
Suddenly, the dark Atlantic Ocean next to the pier began to boil and churn with white foam. Bubbling up from the black depths, the towering wooden masts of a massive ship broke the surface.
It was a spectacular, pristine 1776, 32-gun wooden frigate. The heavy groan of ancient oak echoed through the midnight air as water cascaded off the hull, and canvas sails loudly snapped and lapped in the Key West breeze.
👉 We are officially waterborne. The final orders of the night drop next.
💬 Imagine standing on a pier at midnight and watching a 1776 frigate rise from the ocean. What's your immediate reaction? Run or climb aboard? 🤯⚓️
#LoquaciousRumOdyssey #TikiAdventures
The clock strikes twelve on wooden stone,
The captains do not stand alone.
A linen shirt, a Panama brim,
The midnight mist surrounds him.
A ghostly name spoken clear,
The first creator closes near.
The Narrative: Chapter 2 — Post 3 of 5
Sage let off the brake, and the white TRD rolled backward out of the parking space. The engine roars to life, its headlights cutting through the heavy nighttime humidity. The truck pulls out of the gravel lot, its taillights vanishing down the dark, palm-lined Key West Avenue headed toward the Knight Pier.
Sage & Hatter stood end the concrete walkway of the pier, face tense with realization, Sage glancing at his watch. The analog watch reads 12:00 midnight. In the background, on the square tarmac at the end of the pier the glowing silhouette of a man dressed in a white linen shirt, 1940’s era trousers & straw hat stands perfectly still under the flickering pier light.
Sage's voice was deep, gritty, and flat. "Are you... Donn? Donn the Beachcomber?"
The mysterious figure tilted his Panama hat up, a knowing smile breaking across his face. He was wearing a classic, short-sleeved white linen shirt and 1940s-style tailored trousers.
"Sage... your historical knowledge serves you well," Donn said, a smooth, old-Hollywood swagger in his warm chuckle.
Hatter and Sage stood awe-struck, the salty air suddenly stuck in their lungs. Only one question echoed through the silence of their minds: How the hell did this ghost know Sage’s name?
Donn steps forward, his eyes locking onto Sage with intense focus. He extends his hand, which is emitting a faint, ethereal, supernatural glow. "I've been expecting you. Do you have the scroll?"
Sage reaches into his cargo shorts pocket, pulling out the weathered, ancient scroll they took from Salty's cellar. He extends it, and the moment the parchment meets Donn’s glowing hand—the world shifts.
👉 The exchange has been made. Next post drops in a few hours—don't miss the ignition. Follow us on the Loquacious Rum Odyssey
💬 He knows his name. How do you think Donn the Beachcomber is tied to Salty and the scroll? Give us your wild theories below! 🏴☠️🔮
#LoquaciousRumOdyssey #Tiki #Rum
@StraightFlorida You're missing the Keys Dude, directly related to the NoFla cracker but he lives in 2 million dollar POS canal house & somehow has a 36ft. center console with 3- 300 Yamahas on the back loaded down with $3500 worth of fishing gear 🤣🤣🤣🤣
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