Circle of Eights, Stories

Forums Yurara Fameliki’s Stories Circle of Eights, Stories

  • Creator
  • #78


      Back from the depths of his sleep, the dragon Naasir exhaled in a puff of smoke. He’d just woven a wonderful dream —for all dragons and creatures do dream of course, even if most humans doubt it.

      Yawning, Naasir stretched out his long slithery body. Fully stretched, his body was an impressive sight to behold. He was quite old by human standards, while in fact, he was still in his youth, and could very well stay as rambunctiously lively for many other long centuries.

      He had given the final touch to a new world he had been creating in his dream time for many nights now, and was rather proud of it —even if dragons knew no such thing as pride, his feeling at this very moment was very akin to being proud.

      He had filled this world with many wonders, dragons of course, and other creatures yet to be named. And magic was all pervasive in that world, and so slightly cloaked, that it could be used by many.
      It would be a great playground he thought, for he was not a possessive and dictatorial dragon. In fact, he could feel some others were about to step in, and tell and live the story of that world.

      Sighing in delight, like a sleepy cat of majestic dimensions, he cuddled again, about to sink deeply into the harp music playing in his mind, ready to dream and let that story be told again…

      Another Never Ending Story

      Malvina. That name had been thrown into a conversation Yann and Quintin had had together, during which Quintin had felt images come into his awareness. He had instantly liked that name.
      He was feeling the aura of a woman, long hair of a pale rosy color, with a noble bearing. That name had been around, and they had played with it to find more impressions.
      And they had felt it linked to breeding of dragons, in a sort of rookery.

      They’ve both felt her connected to Malika, an online friend of them, whose gentle touch and kindly influence, as well as her passion for dragons seemed to fit in quite interestingly.

      Then on an impulse, Quintin had begun to paint an image around it, letting his feeling guide his movements. He’d loved the peaceful environment he’d drawn, and even if he was not wont to share “unfinished” drawings, he immediately shared the initial sketches with Yann and Fiona.

      They both loved it, and Fiona even considered for a moment adopting one of the cute baby dragons to be born.
      “Buckberry” : that was the name Quintin felt for the baby dragon… But he did not see any character in that picture for Fiona. She would have to decide to step in, to get that baby dragon. What character would she be? A young impetuous rude adventuress, or an o(w)ld wizened witch? Perhaps a bit of both?

      These thoughts were now coming back to him.
      Ever since he had seen Yann’s pictures, those taken when he’d been in Old Albion, he had felt that something strange was manifesting.
      One of these intriguing coincidences: the picture of a cave that Yann has been visiting looked so strikingly similar to Malvina’s Rookery… And that playful kid in the cave was probably linked to Yann.

      So, now that the painting was finished, perhaps he could have people join in the fun. All that was required was imagination…

    Viewing 20 replies - 921 through 940 (of 1,160 total)
    • Author
    • #1051

        “That new door is funny” thought Leörmn
        “Well, I would have preferred you say it’s beautiful” he could hear the sweet voice of Arona answer grumpily.

        “That’s what I meant,” he answered “distinctively beautiful… And the ‘PEACE OFF’ on the door is a nice soft touch I must admit.”


        Playing hide-and-seek in the corridors, Irtak and the twin dragons were running and laughing.
        Passing in front of an oddly thoughtful Leormn, they stopped and looked at what he was contemplating.

        “What a nice door” said Heckle.
        “Nice and softly painted for sure” said Jeckle.

        “It’s funny” said Irtak. “I like funny things, and this one is very funny :-? it looks like you could go through it easily.”


          “What are we going to do now, Bea? This is dreadful news! I can’t bear the thought of moving again!” Leonora started to cry. “I can’t believe the landlord is coming back so soon. I like it here! I thought we were settled, for once, just for once, settled, stable….”

          Bea groaned. “Don’t, Leo! Stop snivelling for god’s sake, get a grip woman! We’ll just throw our stuff into some plastic bin bags and move somewhere else! How difficult is that, fer chrissake? I bet there’ll be another finca right close to here and it won’t be any trouble at all.”

          “What about the door!” hissed Leo. “Have you forgotten the door?”

          “What door?” asked Bea.


            “I thought Tobi told not to open any door this month” Becky Tooh said to Tina, who was waiting patiently on the doorsteps.
            JUST open the BLOODY door!” an exerted Tina finally managed to blurt out, remembering Mehmot Lung’s teachings

            Tina had decided against all common sense to go to Becky Tooh (or BeckyT) and Sean’s house, not so much to happily gargle ga-bla-blu-blooes with the little crying and smelling babies, but to see if the clone’s health was really a concerning matter.
            Al’s lack of attention on the subject had not very comforting. To say the truth, he’d been horrible as usual, and hadn’t told her he was going with Sam on a trip in the Floridisles.

            Since New York’s flooding, and after a series of calamitous tropical cyclones, all was left of Florida was a thread of big islands, not as densely populated as it once was. However, a few of their friends were still living here, managing a dolphin ranch, and organizing on occasion some excursions with the dolphins in the lagoons.
            Of course, she had remote-viewed it all, but it was horrible enough from Al to have assumed she would figure on her own.

            But back to the subject, she couldn’t really decide if Beckitee’s state was alarming or not. Her lack of attention was surely running down the genes pool, she wasn’t expert enough to tell, but as far as her body was concerned, Beckitee looked absolutely perfect —though she still got hints of that little balding problem left, and so little (but noticeable, still) wrinkles on her arms, she thought.

            Surely Beckitee was beautiful… Not sure she was as funny as Beckipoo though.


            As she was sinking to the bottom of the raging sea, Madame Chesterhope first felt like a boiling rage inside her, at all the thwarted attempts, all the unfulfilled promises.
            Not a solid thing on which to carve a few runes or symbols to get herself out, not a single living being to use at her profit, she was alone, at the mercy of gravity.
            Not unexpectedly, flashes of her life, of her many lives, flickered like incoherent pieces of an unfinished mosaic in her mind.

            When did it went wrong? she thought… When did she lose touch with her magic.
            Not the mundane magic, not the one she used for these parlor tricks devoid of meaning, like that beautiful flying motorbike which was drowning even faster than her… She was speaking of her inner magic, her sense of connection with the elements, with herself, Phoebe.

            What had become of the frail grey-haired lady the apparency of whom she was so fond of taking years ago?
            She was tempted to blame many things; the twenty-first century of her own dimension, for one, which had made her rough and tough, out of need perhaps, and perhaps a bit out of laziness. It was out of tiredness mostly, tiredness to have to constantly justify her appearance to others, that she had chosen a more convenient one; that of the crone with more rotund forms, of whom one would only expect austerity and strength.
            You can see where it had led you. she was thinking.

            A few more miles further down, and perhaps she would meet the mermaids, like the guy said in that Big Blue motion picture
            Maybe there was some purity left in her heart, that would make the inhabitants of the depths greet her wretched soul. Or perhaps they all died before her, from the pollution of this strange world mutating in pangs and spasms of a painful childbirth.

            And what would you do now, if you have the choice? that sweet voice, like that of a thin grey-haired mermaid, was it her own, testing herself?
            The quest for magical artifacts seemed so far away at this moment. It had begun a long time ago, led her to discover new other-dimensional places… new tricks, all of them for what? To gain control over the elements, the others, everything that could threaten her, force her to change. How ironic. That the fear of change made her change so drastically.
            She wanted to make peace with all of that. The mermaids weren’t coming, but her own voice was still there for her. Perhaps she could muster the strength. To continue…

            Mustering all her force, she forcibly expressed the most propelling “prout” she’d ever made. Of course, she’d been learning a few tricks from the legendary Fartiste back in her youth when she went to Paris to perform at the Moulin Rouge… Sweetest time of her life, she had to admit…


            On the surface of the waters, bubbles started to form.


              Sam wanted to see by himself. He had suddenly remembered what Becky had told them once about a pet shop with a nine-tailed glowing fox. He hadn’t paid attention at the moment, but this was somewhat reappearing in his dreams lately. One of his focuses was the link, and he was seeing his face more and more looking directly at him.
              He usually wasn’t speaking with his other selves, he was rather directly exchanging energy with them. At first it had been a bit awkward, practicing with telepathy and conversing with his friends was his main focus of interest. But once he was aware of how he could do that more easily and more efficiently, his attention wandered to other means of communication.
              Eschraiel was currently nudging him, and his animal form was quite intriguing. Especially since there were those kind of animals living now!
              He had arrived at the shop without really paying attention. He was following his guts to lead him exactly where he wanted.
              Being soft, in the kind of mode of processing he was in currently, the people around were like objects around merged with his environment, nothing standing out. Except maybe that woman in front of the big parrot cage… no, not the woman but the color of her gown, a deep indigo, vibrant and shiny. She turned her smiling face in his direction, but it was like Eschraiel’s energy superimposed on hers. He smiled back at her and continued to the rear of the shop.

              The creatures were in a dark room, their fur glowing with rusty and fiery shades. Apparently very engrossed in chasing each others tails… they had quite a lot to keep them busy. The little ones especially were jumping heartily on the older ones. Challenging them to retaliate… but getting apparently no response from them except a few grunts.


              No particular feeling at first.


              One of the little ones, maybe…


              This one. One of the older ones. A male. He was looking at him now, as aware of Sam’s energy as Sam was aware of his.
              He yelped a few times, standing like an Egyptian Sphinx.


              In no time, Sam was out with his nine-tailed glowing fox
              He’s so still, thought Sam.
              How would I name you? he thought, directing the energy to the creature.

              He opened his mouth and let his tongue out in such a way, it was like he was grinning and challenging him. Sam laughed and thought to the fox : So I have to play the impression game with you then.
              Maybe… I can call you Sam actually :))
              One bark was enough of an answer.
              So Sam it is!
              Another bark.
              I have to introduce you to my friends now… I don’t know why, but I have the feeling Al will love you


                Sam huh?

                Al was quite interested in the little furry creature. He suddenly remembered that when he had opened his old worn-out copy of the Yurara Fameliki stories at random this morning, he had found this excerpt about a guy wanting to get a dog… He could even remember the page number: 110.
                Al knew well enough that the book was a bit magic and that the described event would reverberate into his reality in many ways, but he didn’t know it would be in this strange fashion.
                Anyhow, he quite liked it.

                He was wondering now how Sam would do for the trip to the Floridisles with little Foxsam (huhu) —take it with them, or leave it for someone to keep?


                She had to hold her breath a few seconds more…
                Very few seconds…
                Another one… Oh by the Elder gods! what was this all about the time was stretching like an old rubber bag and she was about to burst out… sshitty lack of air!

                Calm down Phoebe. You can do it… WHERE IS THE SURFACE!?

                All of a sudden she realized she had lost her beautiful motorbike for good — one that took her years to find, and a few more years to insufflate its little particularities.

                Oh! MERDE!

                Another memory of her time at the Moulin Rouge…

                I lost the wand again…

                But that wand was a bit more special than her motorbike. Soaked with ancient magic from another dimension… A bit like that ring in that dimension… She shivered… her small intrusion in that one sufficed to disgust her… That giant spider… what was her name again? Well the name won’t help her surface and breathe… She remembered… she had stolen an egg from that spider… she had to get rid of it very soon afterward in a garbage dimension, but…

                What is this light… and where is the direction of the surface… it was like she was floating in no space, no gravity…
                That’s not gooood…
                I’m loosing…





                A big flushing sound and she could breathe again… it was painful as the water in her lungs was looking for a way out.
                Coughing and aching… She had no idea of the boundaries of her bodies as she was as wet as the ocean…
                But her friend of old times had saved her! She never regretted to help her in her youth, during a trip to Scotland…
                The contact of the… cold skin?
                It was a bit too cold to be her friend… and it sounded quite metallic.

                — Oye! Therrre you arrrre!

                What was that again!? A submarine? A Russian accent?
                She couldn’t accommodate her vision, she was still too busy to breathe loudly.

                — Deaaarrrr Pheobe! The Barrrron told me you’d be therrrre.

                Pavel Orgeanov!!! Oh not him now! He was the last one she expected to meet.


                  Yann switched off the light.
                  Yurick giggled.
                  — You sure you wanna sleep?
                  giggle back…


                    Today was the commemoration of the fifth anniversary of the first transmutation made on Earth.

                    Of course, it didn’t take into account previous attempts (or successes), because they were of the domain of science-fiction and dubious history facts. But now, not only was it rock-solid proven feasible, but also it had change people’s lives like the invention of electricity had about two century ago, in the mid 1800s.

                    At first, people had not grasped the profound implications of that discovery. It was another funny science experiment from researchers, and didn’t seem to have any more practical usage as did goat cloning, and creation of phosphorescent pigs. However, to mark the consciousnesses of the importance of the event, the government hadn’t skimped on the showcase. Not that it was of any importance after what evolution was bound to happen afterward, but still, huge sums of money were spent brilliantly.

                    The symbolic aspect of choosing what object to transmute wasn’t unnoticed. It could be virtually anything physical: garbage, contaminated soil… But it had to mean more.
                    Someone whose name was forgotten came with a suggestion and it slowly came up as the most natural thing —to close this area and open on the new one.
                    There had been many people still left to convince, the die-hard fanaticism, but it had to be it. And for good measure, the involvement of other nations was asked.

                    Sept. 4th, 2044, the ceremony opened with the display of what was left of Enola Gay that plane who had dropped the first atomic bomb, which had been almost forgotten in the West, but not completely in the East. And many nations came afterward, each carrying a symbol of what they wanted to recycle, to free themselves off.

                    Then all of these heterogeneous elements entered the P-Machine, a distant relative of the Z-Machine which had been adapted and enhanced to produce aneutronic fusion at its core —highest temperatures of the universe thought unreachable by human means, harnessed to change the elements at will, and producing no harmful radiations as the atomic towers of the past.
                    After a silent moment of unbearable expectation, melted gold started to flow out of the machine, making people wonder if that was all of it?

                    Yes, it was merely it. Transmutation could be done, and it was not so impossible as people thought in the past. It meant free resources, recycling of garbage, abundance for all… at people’s grasp.
                    What people had failed to recognize at the beginning, apart from the immense possibilities that were lying before them was that the machine could only transmute matter. And even if it could virtually free them of greed (because everything from gold to rocks was basically of the same value now), people’s own values were now made prominent, there was no camouflage left: no victims, no shortages, no lack of.

                    Even five years after, it still meant huge challenges, but there was hope.


                      She had been taken to her room by a handsome young Russian after the onboard doctor, who was quite handsome too, had examined her. She had the vague impression she was turning a tad nymphomaniac. She chuckled and she stopped as soon as she realized she sounded like an old goose. No she would not loose her dignity. But she needed to release her tensions.

                      The doctor had told her she was lucky they came at that very moment, but kept quiet after that. That she was aware of, but she couldn’t get more out of him and she was too tired to use her other tricks on him.
                      Better rest a moment; she was confident she’d be kept up to date soon enough by Pavel.

                      How strongly she was despising him…
                      She didn’t know it was possible before their first encounter in Paris, years ago. :yahoo_thinking:
                      Mixed feelings filled up those memories… :yahoo_angry: :yahoo_love_struck: it was also at the same time she’d met Georges, the Dandy as he liked to be called then. What a pair of thieves they were… When was it? 1852? 1853? She wasn’t sure…

                      Her first mistake was to ask them to retrieve that stone from the antique store for her… Of course she hadn’t told them what she was looking for… she only asked them to steal everything in the shop! Still, they didn’t bring it back from the shop though she was positive the sunstone was there… they told her that was all they found; Georges seemed so sincere that she wouldn’t have thought he would double her and keep the stone… and much less use it. Soon enough… yes soon enough she realized she had been deceived.

                      Her second mistake was to offer them an arrangement… but that’s another story. She was not as wary as she was now.

                      She sighed. :yahoo_sigh:

                      Nothing interesting to steal in that room. Just raw blankets and a plain wooden chair… she wouldn’t have expected more from Pavel. Always keeping the best for himself and not quite as chivalrous as the Dandy. Pavel… How did they call him back then? She couldn’t or wouldn’t recall it… something like the Monk… the Monkey would have better suited him, she thought bitterly.

                      But now; she had no time to loose in dim memories.
                      She had to plan her escape.

                      knock knock

                      It only took her a few seconds to compose herself.

                      — Come on in.


                      Were are we Anu? , the mother asked her young daughter trotting in front of her. My, it’s awfully dark in there… Are you sure we’ll find the others here?
                      — Yes Mum. Anu answered in a soft voice.
                      — Don’t be so anxious, Lily dear; trust our little girl; after all, she did so bravely well on her own after that plane crash.
                      — You’re right Aaron, but this place is so… I don’t know, it gives me the creeps. It’s like… I couldn’t tell why, but it’s like we’re not remotely close to the Miami… or even the Sarcastic Sea where we’re supposed to be stranded…
                      — It’s because we’re not, muttered Anita, more to herself than to her mother. But we’ll be soon enough, she added.
                      — Sometimes I wonder how can Anu know so well were we are when we’re so lost, her mother mumbled…

                      Balbina was following the little group as it was heading to the cave where one of the portal’s entrances was located. She could see the entrance clearly, glowing and sending ripples of energy coils, but that was only because she was travelling in her dream-body. While Anita, who was quite tuned into those things, wasn’t appearing to be lost, the parents seemed more than a little in the dark, and not only figuratively speaking…

                      Balbina turned to the rabbit who was keeping her company.
                      — And do you know were they’re going to?
                      And do you like the things that life is showing you? giggled Yuki. Well, more seriously, it depends on what they’re choosing. And it could lead them to a place much more different than the one they expect to go to.

                      A funny idea crossed the mind of Balbina, so much so that the elderly lady, who was looking rather youngish in her dreamlike appearance couldn’t help but express it.

                      — Could they come to my place? They seem so charming people, and they seem to come from the same time as I do…
                      — I thought you would never ask, Yuki smiled at her mischievously.
                      — Oh, why?
                      — Don’t you think it’s a funny coincidence that you are to meet them here and now?
                      — Well… It’s just a dream, isn’t it?
                      — And what if you could make that dream reality? Prove to yourself that it’s as real as anything else…
                      — That sounds exciting indeed.

                      “Here!” Anita was pointing a strange shaped bush of brambles.

                      Rafaela was standing next to the bushes with Armelle on a tree nearby. “I’ve thought it would be more practical for them than the rock pool”
                      “Good thinking dear” Yuki answered the goat.

                      — And now? Balbina asked
                      — I think it’s up to you and Anita, said Yuki.

                      “And where are we going from there?” asked Lily to her daughter.
                      “Not far from here, to a friend’s home, in Venezuela .” answered Anita with a wink which seemed lost to her parents, but not to the beaming Balbina.


                        The creaking sound of the door reminded her of a young lampürnok during the mating season on the Duane. Loads of lamprunki (plural for lampürnok) near Mount Elok’ram in her little village.

                        The pock-marked face of Pavel appeared at the door.

                        — Pheeeebe! I am sooo glaad we meet again.

                        He entered and sat on what was supposed to be a bed.

                        — I can’t say I’m glad, Pavel.

                        She snorted.

                        — Last time I saw you, you were running away with one of my possessions. And by the Elder gods! Couldn’t you do something about your monstrous face with all that I taught you? Well, Georges was always better than you could be… I wonder where he is currently…

                        She had said that more to herself than to get any answer from him. He didn’t depart from his smile and his apparently joyous mood.

                        — Well, at least I saved you from a cerrrrtain death. And I know how grateful you arrre inside yourrrrself.

                        That horrid accent of his. It had always made her shudder. But she had to cope with it… for now. She needed to know where she was and why he seemed so sure he would find her there at that very moment. What was he looking for, and how was the Baron involved in all this.

                        — You know that I never liked small-talk. Why don’t you tell me what you want and stop pretending to be what you can’t be? All you can do is work for someone else. You’re too stupid and too coward to take any initiative. You’re too numb to use your imagination…

                        She didn’t like the quavering quality of her voice. She had to be dead tired that she was loosing her temper like that.
                        She cowered back in her chair as he started to move closer, his face suddenly twisted in anger. It was obvious he wouldn’t touch her, he still feared her, she could see it in his eyes… but he also knew that she was quite powerless at the moment. She’d almost drowned in that mass of water, it had changed her in a way she couldn’t fathom yet, and she could feel a small ball of anguish deep inside. She thought for a moment he would beat her. Though he managed to compose his fake joyful expression again.

                        — Listen Pheeeebee, I’m not the impulsive lad you knew. And though I’m not as good as the Dandy I can still impress you, I’m sure of it. But we’re not here to speak about parlor tricks or measure our prowess.

                        She couldn’t help but notice that he had lost his accent.

                        — The Baron… yes I work for him now… another old friend of yours… I wonder how old you are

                        As she was frowning he continued.

                        — Nonetheless, he needs your help in Hawaii.

                        A dim light in her mind. So he was after the skulls too. She had to be more cautious about what she could blurt out, especially in her condition.


                          Well, I wonder what your Gayesh is about Tina said to Becky.
                          You see, I’ve made my little investigation, and he’s not referenced as a scientist, much less a doctor in medicine anywhere…
                          — Pffft, OF COURSE he’s not, sighed Becky. He’s a busy man, with lots of secrets.
                          — AH-AH! I got you there. I thought you always said there was no secrets.
                          — Oh, sure, he doesn’t keep any secret from me. Becky was a bit cut to the quick in that implicit rebuttal of her investigatory skills. You’re not implying that I’m not…
                          — Well, to be perfectly frank with you Becky dearie
                          — Yeah, bring it on, sweetie; a little rudeness won’t hurt
                          — … I think you’ll become a fattened cow in a harem, if the harm hasn’t been done yet.
                          — Oh, that was rude.
                          — Oops, must have been my evil twin.

                          Even Tina had been surprised at her unrestrained expression. “All for the best,” she thought to herself, “better with Becky than with Al, she’s really easier on forgetting others. Blessed be her short-term memory.”


                          The smooke of her pipe was creating interesting shapes flooting away from her.
                          Elizabeth had the weird impression that her story was taking an uncontrollable turn.
                          She woold have written a torrid sex scene with Phoebe and the yoong Russian on the submarine, but it was as if Finnley’s eyes were constantly reminding her of her own nymphoomaniac behavior. She had to let it unexpressed except in her imagination.

                          Looking at the last curls of smooke, it was as if the pook-marked face of Pavel was taking life before her eyes. Thanks to her new croop, her feelings were far far away… She let the smooked face decomposed in a gracious gray whale.

                          She giggled thinking of Finnley’s disapproval… maybe she’ll write that scene after all.
                          She took a sheet of paper and a pen, but soon realized the words were not foorming as expected. The thud prooduced by the pen rolling on the floor was amusing too.


                          The thud prooduced by her body rolling on the floor was more disturbing… and the last thing she saw before she lost consciousness was Finnley’s disapproving look… maybe she had written that scene after all…

                          A smile on her face she began to snoore soundly.


                            Sam (the fox) had adapted quite well to Sam’s apartment.
                            He was rather fond of dark corners where his glowing fur would create more effects. An accurate reflection of Sam’s own centeredness on self and fascination with the influence of his energy on his environment, including other individuals.

                            A shift in his aspects made him feel dizzy for a moment. A nudge of energy from Tina and Al. They were at the floating terrace of a cafe and offered him to join in. Apparently, the ripples created by the hurricanes of last week were arriving in NYC. It was worth seeing. Some improvised surfing contest in the main channels of the city. Apparently Tina expressed quite freely to Becky and she needed to release the pressure. She had brought her bathing suit and was about to participate in the exuberant playful expression.

                            Apparently the fury of the elements somewhere can generate fun in another place. Something about influence and reconfiguration?

                            FoxSam was wagging his tails so it was obvious he wanted to come with him.
                            Sam wouldn’t have let him alone, anyway.


                            Care to come with me through that door?, Leörmn asked more out of courtesy than anything else.
                            It’s the newt cycle now, I infer it’s safe now to open that door.


                            From the tall windows of her manor of Pillaughpiffleston, Lady Theresa Eaglestone was eying Phlynn the gamekeeper. He was coming back from the wooden part of her ancestral domain, where he had apparently been hunting foxes.
                            He was quite a handsome man, and his pack of disparate dogs was making lots of noise greeting him.
                            Theresa had always loved men with dogs. There was such a virile aspect exhaling the scene that she almost covered the window’s glass with a bit of blur.

                            The “ahem” of her snooty butler looking down his nose almost made her jump.

                            — “Your cup of tea, Madam.”
                            — “Thank you Finnley. You may go now.”


                            The rain was falling outside the cave, and it was damp and wet all around. She came quickly back to her study, after letting Leo the little marmoset get out for a pee.
                            There, Malvina caught glimpses of what was lying behind the door that Leörmn and the others were considering.

                            Infinite possibilities,
                            Stars twinkling,
                            A dark night’s sky
                            Blackness of the void of creation

                            A red door, red like the earth…


                            Yurick was looking at his spam box.“Hey! Look at that,” Yann mentioned the last unread one.

                            "From Anita Felix: Its True Check It Out"

                            “Hehehe, Felix is happy in Latin… That’s good to know she probably is,” he added dreamily…

                          Viewing 20 replies - 921 through 940 (of 1,160 total)
                          • The topic ‘Circle of Eights, Stories’ is closed to new replies.